Carrick, congratulations on your second victory!

Fullofit, I still have to catch up on some of your videos but I'm amazed at the way Ziggy keeps finding more Frenchmen to swot out of the air. Just please be careful about flying too low over enemy territory!

War Journal of Flight Commander George Ewan MacAlister, DSC

8 Squadron, RNAS
Mont-St-Eloi, France

Part 15


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"I was able to dive on its tail and put two long bursts into it."

We put up six patrols on 12 January without anyone seeing an enemy machine. The Huns have become shy. Draper opined that they are regrouping in preparation for a big push in the spring, which we all know must come now that the filthy Russians have chucked it in and before the Americans Han show up in meaningful numbers. We should enjoy the peaceful days while we have them.

We had a visit overnight from a good fellow from 65 Squadron, a man named King. His machine threw a cylinder while he was on patrol well to the north of his normal territory and he put down for repairs with us. We invited him for a proper naval dinner and young Stephane taught him some fine new words. In exchange, King introduced a new ritual to the mess. Glass in hand, he approached Johns singing the children’s song, “Do You Know the Muffin Man?” Johns had not been introduced to said baker so they all had to had to take a drink and then link arms and the two of them sang the refrain to Munday, who also caused the others to take a drink. Now the three of them linked arms and continued the song. Before long, fifteen unsteady pilots were knocking over tables trying to get to the remaining fellow who had not met the muffin man. This is the spirit that will win the war.

I finally had a crack at a Hun on 13 January. I led a patrol north towards Ypres, where we were dived upon by a large group of Albatri. I focused on staying above the scrum and waited for an opportunity. It came in the form of a dark green Albatros, which had spun out of the fight and headed home. I believe it was making for the aerodrome at Haubourdin. I was able to dive on its tail and put two long bursts into it. The EA spun out of control and did not recover. Compston joined up with me and the two of us ran into a group of three more Albatri. It was a tight scrap for several minutes and at one point I bounced my undercarriage off an enemy machine which I had not seen. My Camel was unharmed and I never did catch sight of the Hun.
The green EA was confirmed by Compston and is my twenty-sixth.

On the following day we were back up to Ypres. It was nearly time to return when Cumming spotted a pair of two seaters up around 14,000 feet. It was a long stalk. To my dismay, the Huns saw us when we were still out of effective range. The closer of the two machines banked and dived. Its observer began firing when I was still 300 yards off. This is normally a sign of a windy gunner, but not this time. I felt a burning pain on my right upper calf. Instantly I broke away and reached down to find a distressing amount of blood running over my boot. I put down at Bailleuil where I had the pleasure of seeing King again. His OC was an odd sort. The fellow came to see them hoist me out of my Camel and took a brief look at my leg, whereupon he announced, “I say, topping luck. Just a scratch. You’ll be back chasing cabin boys in a week, sailor.” As much as the thing hurt, I am afraid he is right. About the scratch, not the cabin boys. They drove me to No.11 CCS, located in an unpronounceable town a little to the north-west of the field. There I was kept until the morning of 18 January 1918, when I was permitted to return to the Squadron but remain subject to daily examinations and am exempt flying duty for another week. I confess I can use the rest.

Attached Files Kill 26.jpg