Gentlemen, another round of great storytelling.
Lou, that was a hair raising experience. Getting your wings clipped like that will take at least two years of his projected life span. Good job of getting it all in one piece (minus the tip). Wonder why the Hun couldn’t do the same? Good luck with both claims. Now you have at least a 50:50 chance of confirmation. I know, I know - never tell you the odds. That Hun in the sun screenshot is a beauty.
MFair, tough luck with your former observer. He should have stuck with Jericho instead of gallivanting with other officers. Chin up, the weather can only get better. As to the voice of targets in the area, those are limited and I’m afraid you will have to come back to that rail junction time and time again, until Germans decide it’s not worth repairing it anymore. What’s the point? Jericho will just come and bomb it again. Scheiße!
Scout, too bad about the Fees. Will have to make do with the Quirks for now. I think Aleck should propose installing a front firing MG on his crate. Maybe mount it on the top plane?

22 February , 1916 8:12
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Today’s recon mission will take Gaston to front lines where the Meuse River crosses it. He expected this to help greatly with navigation and finding the target. Just after take off, Gaston busied himself with his usual routine in preparation for the hop to the frontlines. Blanket of clouds made everything drab and without depth. Even his wingman had disappeared into the background. Where was he? Gaston started to scan around when out of the corner of his eye he noticed a machine barreling towards him. It was Cpl. Mondeme trying to get to his position in the formation, nearly flying through Gaston’s Nieuport just to get there. His heart skipped a beat as Mondeme flew just under his wings. Gaston thought his wingman went mad for pulling a stunt like this. As he flew alongside him, he shook his fist at the younger pilot.

Sun and partly blue sky peeked from behind the monotone clouds above 2000 m. Gaston was right, it was easy to locate the assigned patrol area. As expected, French artillery was off mark due to the lack of airborne ranging. There was talk of French planes being swept from the skies by the Fokker monoplanes. This was evident by the scene below. The guns were simply firing blind. Meanwhile German shells seemed to find their mark each time, thanks to the frequent corrections from the Boche observation machines. This was about to change at least in one sector. Roze was busy noting the fall of the shells. Once the information was passed on to the army boys, some Huns will be very unhappy near the Meuse River area. They didn’t linger too long over the target and both flights returned home safely. Gaston will have to talk to Cpl. Mondeme regarding the near collision earlier this morning. The Boche is one thing, but being rammed by your own flight-mate is another.

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."