It had been a fortnight since Captain Stanley had arrived at Savy.
“Come in,” Smith-Barry called from his side of the office door.


“Hello Stanley. Just a quick chat.”
“Yes sir.”
“I see that you are controlling the Nieuport well. When I have flown with you, I have seen that you engage the enemy readily. Leading to some success for your flight.”
“Thank you sir,” Stanley brightened up. He had thought that this was a dressing down.
“Yet you have not scored a victory of your own. Are you holding back, Captain?” Stanley's commanding officer peered over the desk quizzically.
Stanley felt slightly affronted. “Not at all sir. We are a military unit and our job is to destroy the enemy in the air. The results are in the reports sir.”
“Indeed they are. Yet a leader of men must be show ambition. Captain, I know that you are capable. You are currently the third highest scoring pilot on the squadron. If Ball were still here, then I would have reduced you to a deputy leader.”

Smith-Barry leaned forward. “Show me your fighting spirit Captain. Perhaps make an engine test and have a look around? See what happens? Dismissed.”

Stanley's pride had been pricked. Smith-Barry knew what he was doing, but by the time that he had realised it, William was well over the lines.

Far below, a Fokker biplane was rising to meet him.

This was no surprise to Stanley. He had been stalking the flight of German scouts since they had turned homewards from their patrol. As he had hoped, one of the three had become separated from the group and now battle was imminent.

The two aeroplanes danced around one another. Stanley found that this pilot was better than he expected and he could not get a good shot on the black crossed machine. After about five minutes, the enemy pilot seemed to change his mind and dived away. Stanley considered giving chase, but realised that the Fokker was close to the safety of Epinoy aerodrome. Even if he caught up with it, he would be exposed to Archie at best and machine guns as well.

Turning west, Stanley looked for easier prey.

A while later, William spotted two aircraft far to the north of him. As he investigated he found a FE2 fleeing west with a Fokker scout harassing the beleaguered pusher all the way.

Stanley began a dive to come to the rescue.

The dive was fast, but it was long and even as he reached the fight, the British 2 seater nose-dived into a copse near the aerodrome of Avesnes-le-Comte. The ill fated pilot had been fleeing for safety there, but had succumbed at the last moment.

The Fokker was turning for home when Stanley slipped in behind it. He was so close. He waited until he was closer. Now he wasn't rescuing the Fee crew, but instead would avenge them.

Closer. He could see the oil stains on the fabric of the German fuselage. Now he pulled the trigger.

The German pilot turned to throw off his attack, but a thin grey smoke trail appeared. In moments a flame flickered from under the cowl of the Fokker and Stanley watched as the aeroplane streaked down as a flaming wreck.

He noted the time and the location on his notebook. After circling the aerodrome and waving at the BE2 crews who were peering up at him, he set course for Savy.