Carrick – I agree with you about the SE. It's a wonderful machine and makes you feel very safe.

Fullofit – Ziggy keeps on ticking. I liked how in the second video you could hear the American pilot say oh just before he crashed. It was as if he had just noticed the big hole in his chest.

George still has troubles with claims but at least he got the other one confirmed…

War Journal of Flight Commander George Ewan MacAlister, DSC

8 Squadron, RNAS
Mont-St-Eloi, France

Part 13


"Immediately, thick black smoke began pouring from the Pfalz…"

Roamin’ in the gloamin’
By the bonny banks of Clyde
Roamin’ in the gloamin’
Wi’ a lassie by ma side…

It had become my party piece. As our squadron’s only Scot, the role of Harry Lauder fell naturally to me and I broke into a Glasgow patter you could spread with a knife. I left the Irish songs to Price and Brendon. Maudlin things, anyway. All about poor wee Maggie dying of consumpthing and innocent young Michael being packed off to Australia. The Canadians couldn’t seem to get past “Alouette.” And if the English didn’t have Chu Chin Chow, they’d have no music at all. So that wasn’t for a Scot who could sing, we should need to acquire an American. And that was an excellent reason to thank the Scots.

The drinks were flowing tonight. We’d promised Janine to have her son, Stephane, back by eight o’clock. It was past ten and he was still working the bar as any good twelve-year-old ought to do. He had taught us that an extra few centimes would purchase a double shot and the boys were all feeling somewhat overserved. Now squadron commander Draper was reciting Kipling and Dennett was performing Henry V. It was a grand night.

The occasion was my twenty-fifth victory. We received a call from one of our compass stations that enemy aircraft were active north-west of Saint-Quentin. It was, strictly speaking, just out of our normal patrol area but we put together a scratch flight of six machines which I led and were over the area in about twenty-five minutes. We thought at first that we were too late, but Munday began waggling his wings. He pointed to the west and I acknowledged. About 2000 feet higher and a mile off there was a formation of seven scouts. I climbed south to put the sun at our backs and we began the stalk.

The Huns were alert and spotted us when we were still a long distance off, so it was a matter of them diving into our formation. Then there were machines all over the sky. Collision was a real danger. At one point I came under fire from an enemy I never saw. He must have come up beneath me when I was banked in a tight turn. I spun out of there and recovered a thousand feet below, just in time to see a silver Pfalz flash past. I was on his tail in a second, but Price was ahead of me. The Hun shook him off but did not see me until after I fired at him, hitting his wings. From that point, the matter was nearly concluded. The Hun tried to dive away but dared not do so at full throttle because of the damage he had incurred. I got behind and fired. Immediately, thick black smoke began pouring from the Pfalz and it dived vertically until it hit the ground west of Fontaine-Uterte.

A few minutes later I bagged another one, a lone Pfalz heading for home. But I had no witness for the second. Price confirmed the first victory and I considered it a good day.