Journal Entry: August 22, 1915
St. Pol-sur-Mer

I'm so furious I could scream. I've been ordered by the old man to start building some fighting spirit in my fellow fliers and what do those idiot bean-counters up in Wing headquarters do, they stifle all of my work. Let me try and explain the situation. It all started two days ago, Oscar and I get ordered to do a line patrol up near Loos and I'm excited about the prospect of what Oscar might do in this sortie. Oscar has been exhibiting more and more confidence and fighting spirit, so to encourage that I'm going to let him take the lead if we encounter any Huns during the patrol. As usual, a Hun comes trundling along not unlike a cow going to the slaughter and before I can even signal Oscar he has already started his attack. As a matter of fact, you can see just how close this poor Hun came to ramming me.

After his successful attack we returned to St. Pol and began our celebrations. I just learned a few minutes ago that his claim has been rejected. He was so overjoyed at his success, this news will crush him. It's as if those idiots at Wing are fighting against us. Why should they care if he gets credit for this victory, they will never lay their life on the line like Oscar will. If he should fall, they won't even notice. Bean-counters, damn them all, they should be lined up and shot. I will just have to explain this to him somehow while still encouraging him. Blast, I hate this job.

I've been promoted to Squadron Commander, but does it really matter? I've no squadron to command, so I'll just continue with my supply paperwork and fly my sorties.

I did manage to score victories number 25 and 26 today, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I'm so focused on trying to get the others to start demonstrating some fighting spirit that my own tally doesn't quite mean as much.

Member and provider of banjo music for the Illustrious BOC