Corderoy reaches a milestone.

Diary of Capt. Geoffrey Corderoy, RFC
Part 36: 29 October 1917 – 1 November 1917

29 October 1917 – Poperinghe aerodrome

I am settling in to life in “Pops.” The countryside is crawling with activity with units of every kind coming from the lines, going to the lines, or generally just slogging away at the business of war. The guns are very loud here and go all day and night, with the odd heavy crashing into the town just a couple of miles down the road. The town itself is the railhead for the big push that is entering another phase. The Canadians taking over from the Anzacs. I passed some Australians on the road and they looked absolutely ragged. They have fought well but conditions here are impossible, the ground sodden and the drainage systems in the farmland shattered by shellfire.

A little to the southeast of the town there is a large camp of Chinese coolies who are doing heavy work on the light railroads that all seem to converge on Poperinghe. One sees them occasionally in town, shouting at one another and bartering with confused shopkeepers. They seem to come in sets of twelve![1]
I led a defensive patrol down to Mont-St-Eloi today. Very cloudy and grey. Did not see a thing.

Visit from Col Holt [2] this afternoon. Seems satisfied, but is pushing me to bring in flight commanders from other squadrons. I told him I am sure we have good people and asked for a little time to get to know them.

30 October 1917

C.O.P. to the south side of the salient. Patrol for forty minutes before a very large group of Albatros scouts appears out of the north. We engaged and began a mad brawl. The Camel is much harder to see from than the SE5a, and I narrowly missed collisions more than once. I feel that I should try to stay above the main fight to control things, help when needed, and warn of new Huns; but today that is impossible. There are simply too many of them. I find it necessary to handle the Camel rather gently. But because of that I know I am not pushing the grid to its limits. Twice I find myself with two Huns behind me. At least this time I am not peppered and don’t stall. At length, I see a yellow Albatros with purple and green wings climbing below me and fall on him. My first burst does damage and the Hun breaks away. Before he can outpace me, I fire 100 rounds after him and he rolls over and heads straight down, crashing near Wervik. Howson was close behind me and seconds my claim, so that makes 29!

In the afternoon we fly far north along the coast to bomb the Hun aerodrome at Vlissinghen. I notice a very large group of EA circling about Nieuwmunster, but I guide my fairly new bunch back over the lines. We were far too deep into Hunland to start a lot of trouble.


"Before he can outpace me, I fire 100 rounds after him and he rolls over and heads straight down, crashing near Wervik."

31 October 1917

Grey weather and too much paper to get up twice. I join Sigismund for an attack on a balloon the Huns have put up south of Menen. I am first in and dive on the thing, firing all the way from 300 yards out. I see black smoke begin to emerge and loose my rockets while pulling up. Bull’s eye! The Le Prieurs do their job and the exploding gas throws my Camel onto its back. The Hun balloon is gone and I see no parachutes. This is confirmed as my thirtieth victory.

The celebration is somewhat muted, because we learn that a new lad, Norris, has put down in Hunland with a dud engine. He was ten miles over with “C” Flight and didn’t have a chance. He seemed to land all right, so we hope to hear soon that he is safe. I write his parents and tell them what I know.

1 November 1917

Over again to Menen area, this time to bomb and strafe the Hun aerodrome at Iseghen. We make a proper mess of the place and then patrol over the salient until it is time to come home. No Huns are about. The scenes below are horrid, like fighting in an open sewer. The villages on our maps are completely indiscernible from more than a thousand feet. One could become a conshie here.

Wrote to Catherine Senechal. Rather touchy, knowing that she was engaged to one of my former fellows. Is it proper to write back? I am not at all sure what “fondly” meant when she signed off. We English can propose to a girl with a term like that, really. But I try not to read much into it. Perhaps she simply had an interest in pilots, any pilot. She was rather smashing though. Put the envelope in the post before I think about it too much.

Got a very nice call from Gen Trenchard congratulating me on 30 victories, then commenting that he has heard I need flight commanders!

It really is ripping being the squadron commander, though. I have a wonderfully cozy spot in the back of the squadron office, with a bedroom and small sitting room. I am setting up to have tea and drinks in the sitting room with each flight in turn on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. The idea on the surface is to talk shop and war fighting, but at a deeper level I want to get to know the chaps on a less superficial level than is possible in the mess.

Notes:

[1] The Chinese Labour Corps had a camp from August 1917 at Reningelst, just outside Poperinghe. They worked on the rail infrastructure in the area, as well as in ammunition depots.

[2] LCol Felton Vesey Holt, DSO, commander 22 (Army) Wing, to which 70 Squadron was subordinate. The wing was under 5 Bde RFC, under BGen Lionel Charleton, DSO.