Lou, PM me with a link to your skin and I'll put you in my campaign. You never know, you might show up! smile

Feldwebel Lazlo Halász,

Jasta 1, Bertincourt, France
September 12th 1916

Lazlo had been dreaming about balloons going up in flames, re-living the events of yesterday. He had seen himself walking to the office to register his claim, when suddenly he realized that, actually, he had completely forgotten to do that yesterday. Real life merged confusingly with his dream for a moment, until Lazlo had let out a huge, booming laugh.

"Ho,ho ho!", he roared, realizing the enormity of his blunder.

"What on earth are you doing, Lazlo?", his room mate Brueuer grumbled, having been rudely awoken by the big man's outburst from the bunk below him.

"Ogh, I am so stupid being. I forgetted completely to be making the claim for the fat sausage that I ate up yesterday", Lazlo chuckled at his own joke.

"Oh, is that all? For goodness sake, let me sleep! You'll be getting plenty more chances at those things, I expect. There's a huge focus on supporting our chaps on the ground around Delville Wood right now, so we need to blind them to our counter manouvers. You wait and see, we'll be going over there again, for certain, and probably soon. Now then, let me sleep!". Lazlo made his apologies.

What seemed like ten minutes later, but in reality was two hours later, the men were roused by an orderley. They were to go and chase off some enemy 2 seaters that were bothering the airfields to the south. Lazlo quickly washed and dressed in his flying garb, running to his machine. He ran through his checklist, making sure everything was ready. He'd had four engine failures in the past week and really hoped today would be better. After about 20 minutes they reached their destination, the field at Hervilly / Montigny Ferme. Sure enough, almost immediately they spotted two BE2s, about 500 meters below and a kilometer away. They appeared to have spotted the Jasta planes and were turning hard toward the lines to the west. On the outskirts of Peronne they caught up with them. It didn't take long. Lazlo was a little slow to arrive but he managed a few passes at one of the unfortunate machines, until eventually he saw it go down from a hail of bullets from Wintgens.

Back at their own field, Von Keudell attempted to console Lazlo for his blunder with the claim.

"Hey, Big Red, don't be tooo hard on yourself. They probably wouldn't have awarded it to you anyhow! High Command is very stingy with those things. They make up a million reasons for why the things blow up other than because of our actions. No point in worrying about it. Now 2-seaters over our own fields, that's a different story. Get yourself into the action quicker next time". He grinned and patted Lazlo lightly on the shoulder. Lazlo winced slightly. It only really hurt now when he was casting his line on his days off fishing, but just occasionally, if he knocked it, he'd get a jolt of pain. "Ooops, sorry old chap. Forgot you're still mending". Lazlo smiled back.

"Do not be worry. Everything is doing well". They strolled off to the canteen together to have their lunch. That evening there were festivities planned. They were making a trip into Cambrai and a fine dinner lay in store for all the Jasta members, to celebrate some new arrivals to their ranks. Lazlo was a little nervous. He had never been to a big city in his life, or even a restaurant for that matter!

To be continued......


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