NEVER should on regard ANYthing in a war as easy...

Climbing for altitude, I spotted Flak near a balloon. The a cloud of dark smoke fell to the ground.
Should some entente fighters have attacked and downed our nearest balloon?
Curiously, I headed in that direction and soon I saw 2 BE.2c performing a wide curve after their
successful attack, to fly back over the lines. I climbed and climbed to get at them, before they
would cross the mud. I reached them, when we approached the German trenchlines.

And then I made a mistake. Thinking they were easy meat, I climbed up too high behind my target.
I had forgotten that they have gunners now! (Mmuahahahahaaa!!!)
I could only damage him a little bit - kinda tickle - before he shot my engine up, and wounded me.
Now, who said the rear gunner were not lethal enough?

With a sputtering engine I turned east, but the engine cut out completely NW of Bapaume.
So I glided to the long straight well-known road Cambrai-Bapaume and landed on it.
When my Halberstadt came to a halt, I saw grazing sheep nearby.
One gave me a long wondering look.
"Yeah, I know!" I thought...

They want to have me in hospital for 11 days - okay, where are my books? ...

Congrats on the promotion, Lou! Now there's nothing else left to gain except that VC.

Olham, sorry to hear your pilot got hit, but at least he's still alive!

Congrats on your promotion, Lou! Now you're running with the big dogs!

Tough luck, Olham...sorry to hear that! Its easy to get lulled into complacency with those 2-seaters. I do it all the time when not playing DiD! They miss and miss and miss, and then shoot you right between the eyes

Soldiers in grey wool overcoats, animals in dirty white wool overcoats. What in the world are you going to be greeted with on your next landing Olham?

Is that a catch question???

British operatives are very good at disguise...I think those sheep are actually British agents!

Not really. Maybe just bad humor. When you landed at Bellonne and the soldiers ran out to greet you I just assumed they were wearing their wool grey overcoats. Now its sheep in their dirty whites. It is just September though so they may not have been wearing them. Just wondering whats next boss!

Olham, don't feel bad. It's a long long war with plenty of chances for such mistakes and all of us being human means that we need to remember those mistakes if we want to survive. It is too, too easy to fall into complacency isn't it.

Maybe you will be lucky and have a nice nurse to sooth your pain!

CatKnight,

After reading your post again today I'm pretty amazed by your writing style...most excellent! I read it last night but was too tired to comment much. This is a lot of fun as there are some very good writers in the DiD campaign

Thank you all - I had just discovered a beautiful nurse, and asked her, if she could take care
of my terrible injury, when she gave me a cold look and said something like "that's just a graze,
come back, when you need an amputation". Damn, war makes us hard, doesn't it?
My comrade said "she likes you - she is only too shy to admit it."
Some are optimists, even in the fierces battling.

Same thoughts cross my imagination too.

26 August 1916
Sgt Achille Coppens
5 Esc "Comete" Squad (RNAS-1), Belgium
Nieuport 11 "Bebe"


07:56 Escort of Strutter Recon Mission to Amentieres

This morning B Flight consisting of four Nieuport 11's set out on an escort mission of a Strutter recon at dawn. The Strutters merged with our flight path ahead of us. As the Nieuport is a slower plane than the Strutter we spent most of our transit time trying to catch up to them.

While they were still in front of us and approaching their recon destination over the lines at Amentieres we spotted 5 contacts co-alt with the Strutters and closing on them. The three Strutters immediately turned and headed back towards our lines which is something I hadn't seen them do in the past. We continued to fly past them putting ourselves between the cons and the retreating Strutters. Within moments the cons came into view as five Halberstadts! Our flight leader dove into the Halberstadts which were slightly below us and a general fight ensued.

Very quickly I realized that three of the Halberstadts were interested in me, and seeing no help coming from my squadmates I began to extend towards our lines. In level flight I was a little faster than the Halberstadts, but not by much. Finally I saw my squadmates coming my way at which point the three Halberstadts chasing me separated and each singled one of us out...time to fight!

While slightly slower the Halberstadt seemed to climb better than my Nieuport and was able to gain altitude during our fight. But I was able to out turn the beast and finally got the advantage and shot him down. Then seeing no one else about I returned to base and found all of our flight had returned safely. The Halberstadt appears to be a dangerous opponent and I would not have taken on two at once.

About to become my first Halberstadt kill...



13:27 Line Patrol at Messines

Another afternoon patrol of deja vu all over again. Five of us in B Flight headed out towards the line on a very nice afternoon. As we approached the line we spotted two contacts and our flight leader gave chase. Down we went towards the deck and the German lines, and I could quickly tell our pursuit was leading us back to the airfield south of Menen once again. As we approached the airfield two Fokkers that were trying to land came into view. I'm thinking "third time's a charm" and this is where I'll buy the farm if I go into that airfield again. Five of us, two of them, have at it boys!

But one Fokker turned back towards us and flew past my four attacking wingmates directly at me. The Fokker pilot was good and squeezed everything he could out of his plane, but he was no match for my Nieuport and fell to my guns. About that time my four buddies came running past me for home so I was outta there as well!

I'm beginning to think my squadmates all want a piece of the Halberstadt action and think they will find it at that airfield at Menen. But it has reached the point of a fatal attraction from my point of view.

Newport 11, one of my favorite planes! I just checked out the first post recently, there are some tremendous bouts of flying going on in this campaign, kudos to all!

Mudwasp: Regarding OFFice: Close. Apparently part of OFFice was based on 'Bletchey's Personality Profiles,' which I am using.
RAF Louvert: Congrats on the promotion!
All: Thanks for the kind words.
*****

Off. Ernst Jung
August 26, 1916

"And....Fechtstellung!" This cry from outside my office brought me into the rec room. This morning found Flieger Schaber somewhere between sitting by the card table or on it, apparently quite comfortable and enjoying his coffee. He was watching.... Zentgrad. Unteroffizier Zentgrad had his back to me and was prancing around like a dancer.

"What in..?" I began. Schaber looked at me and his jaw dropped. Zentgrad whirled in mid-prance ... and nearly took my head off with a fencing sabre.

"Oh!" Zentgrad cried. "I'm sorry. I didn't see you there."

"Obviously." I brushed the blade aside. At least it wasn't sharp: A weapon intended for sport rather than murder. "What are you doing?"

"Practicing!" He lowered the weapon. "That, and..." Something in my gaze unsettled him, for he shied away. "Keeping in shape, you know."

"Practicing for what, Zentgrad? Are you going to signal the next enemy pilot and challenge them to a duel? How about pistols at ten paces?"

"It would be easier," he muttered.

"Excuse me?"

"I said..." Now he wouldn't meet my gaze at all. "It'd be easier. You know. To see your opponent coming. To not have to worry about ... when somebody, anybody really with a machine gun..." He looked up now with moist, bloodshot eyes. "What I mean is..."

"Shape up, Zentgrad. No one's shooting at you yet."

"Yes sir," he said. "Sorry, sir."

Fear. I understand fear well enough. I felt it rising in me now. Whoever thought having an observer sitting and standing right in front of you, blocking your field of vision while you tried to land, was a smart idea... I can never show it though, not until the day I'm relieved of command. May it come soon.

Still, at least I have some idea what to do with fear. I nodded at the sabre. "Do you have another one of those?"

He looked startled, then nodded towards a box on top of the piano. "There."

Two pairs of eyes followed me as I took the box down and opened it. There were indents in the padding for two swords. I knew what happened to the first one. The second I carefully drew. Dull like its brother, and maybe a little heavier than I'd used in school. Someone thought to paint it black, which I thought a shabby thing to do to a beautiful weapon like this. I lifted it carefully, wrapping my hand around the grip and stared at it for a moment.

"Be careful, sir," Zentgrad began. "It's not sharp, but it can still..." I slashed the air with the weapon. Yes, a little too heavy, but serviceable. I raised the sword, stared at Zentgrad along the point, and smirked.

"Well?"

He grinned tightly. "Fechstellung!"

I'm pretty sure neither one of us correctly followed all the rules inherent in the sport. 'Right of way', for example, went by the boards within the first seconds as I whacked his shoulder at the same time that he got my ribs.

Schaber apparently chose to play judge, for he said "Double touch. Again."

I looked at him in surprise. How many fencers did I have?

'Fechstellung', or 'En garde', seemed to be next to go, for while I was distracted Zentgrad launched a furious attack. I blocked a thrust, slash, slash, then he chose to remind me why fencers use helmets. A sideswipe made me reel.

Zentgrad pulled back. "I'm sorry, sir. Perhaps we should..."

"Die!" I charged, throwing technique out the window along with everything else. He was too startled to put up more than a token defense and I smacked him smartly in the ribs.

"Right!" he snarled. A second's token acknowledgement to a fencing stance, then we were upon each other. Thrust, parry, stab, riposte, stop-hit, lunge. By now more pilots and observers were filtering in for our morning debriefing. Shock, amusement, possibly respect, then they rushed out of the way as the two of us fought.

We actually managed to lock weapons, I'm still not quite sure how. We struggled: I was taller and a little stronger, but he was younger. Then I glanced to my right. "Schaber!"

Zentgrad turned. I pushed hard, throwing him into a table. He stumbled and fell. I swung down hard, missing his head by less than a foot, and grinned.

"You cheated!" he spat.

"There is no cheating in war." I offered my hand.

He glared at me for several moments, and I thought our next fight might be for real. Then he laughed and took my arm.
----------

Today command thought we would like to try some recon work near Nieumunster aerodrome to see what the Brits were up to. Both flights would go: Four planes and two respectively. Go in, let the observers take a few pictures and notes, go home.

"Zentgrad, I want you with me," I said. "Schulte, Schaber, you as well." Oswald Schulte was the one I'd had to reproach about his shaving technique. A dark haired man whose beard seemed to need only a few hours to grow. He leaned against the wall and nodded grimly. "Nuellig, Palz, give us a few minutes head start then come in."

Not a bad plan, I thought. I still thought this as I lazily drifted up to 5,000 feet. 'Good enough,' I thought and slowly arced towards the front. We'd lost contact with the second flight almost immediately, but they were probably just falling behind.

As we approached No Man's land, Hauptmann Soelis leaned back. "Airplanes," he reported. "Straight ahead, maybe two or three miles."

I grit my teeth, prepared to abort then and there. "Brits?" I asked. He already had a spyglass up, supporting his elbow on the fuselage to minimize any vibrations. "No..I don't think..." He talked to himself for a good minute. "Crosses? Two-seaters? Who are... Mein Gott. It's the other flight!"

I yawed out of formation, the others following me some seconds later and peered at the distant dots. How in HELL did they get past us? So far past us?

"Give them a burst," I told Soelis. "Let them know we're here."

"They won't hear us," he said.

"Do it anyway!"

He did and they didn't. No surprise with artillery falling everywhere and now anti-air batteries opened up. A few sullen yellow bursts and rising smoke near my wings just to let their pilots know we're here.

"God damn it."

Soelis swiveled back. "Not that I care, but if we don't complete our mission command's just going to send us right back out here."

I looked up at his placid face and resisted the urge to punch him. "I know my duty."

"Good." He turned back, and I resumed course.

They were ahead of us. Too far ahead of us! If the Brits showed up, it would be minutes before we could get there. Minutes before....nothing. Nothing at all. If the British showed up we'd turn tail and leave them to their fate. Aviatiks aren't fighters, and even if the four of us joined them in time we'd just be more targets. More kills.

I slammed the cockpit. Somewhere deep within the inner workings of the aeroplane, something thumped and rattled unhappily. I made a note not to do that anymore.

Soelis ignored my distress. He'd loaded his camera with film, and now stood and pointed it straight downward. Click.

"Keep an eye on them, will you?" I asked wearily. He nodded.

And so we circled for the better part of...oh, a century or two. I twisted my head around so much I imagine it'll be sore tomorrow, but thankfully the Brits took the morning off. Both flights turned for home. Like yesterday, I flew straight into a cloud to discourage any last minute pursuit and this time my flight followed me.

We landed after an hour and a half in the air with the only snag being both flights trying to land at the same time. I stayed above the fray as they jockeyed for position. Still alone, except for a low flying Eindecker who thought he was doing some good patrolling farmland, and I followed them in.

---------

For once there was some sign of life in the rec room once we landed. We were 2 for 2, and if we weren't exactly doing well we were doing what command asked. Good enough, I thought, good enough.

In the rec room I listened to Zentgrad and Nuellig argue how they were going to fix the phonograph. The latter concocted some strange scheme involving retrofitting a rotary engine to the player, which sounded as hilarious as it did unlikely. Someone laughed. It was good to hear a laugh in this sad little place.

I found messages waiting for me. The usual drivel. Cost estimates to replace our housing with something a little more palatable then tents. Two rejected claims...

Apparently right before I arrived Schulte and Zentgrad both claimed to have shot down an Airco. Unfortunately their reports lacked detail, while a top flight of Eindeckers escorted them. Those had fled (of course), but one of their pilots thought he should get credit. At that point, was High Command to believe the imprecise words of a few recon pilots who couldn't even see clearly, or a member of the vaunted and feared fighting Fokkers of der Fatherland? How typical.

"Thanks, Command." I muttered. "Thanks a lot."

Great Reading , Cat! Really enjoy all the reads while I have to stay in bed.

Thx all!

Damn good writing, CatKnight - enriching our literary "DiD Campaign Reading Corner" very much.

Yes, Truly!

Aarik flew two missions today, both escorting Aviatiks. The Aviatiks didn't show in the morning mission. They did show in the afternoon and flew to the east of Loos, right over the front. Then made their way south. Aarik spotted a flight of large EA two seaters passing by, they didn't engage. Father south another flock of two seaters approached from the west. Black flak smoke tipped him off well before they were in view. He finally got a bead on them and watched closely as they started to pass above the Aviatiks and below him. Right when he thought they would just pass by, the Strutters engaged the Aviatiks.

Aarik dove with the other 5 pilots in B-Flight right behind him. He smoked the engine of one strutter on his first dive and climed away. He spotted his next victim and dove in behind and below the Strutter, then pulled up and peppered the front 1/3 of it sending it ablaze. He climbed away again and watched his squad destroy the remaing two Strutters.

He remained with the Aviatiks as they slowly went south over the front and followed them to their homefield before RTB.

I missed this earlier, Carrick...congrats! That's an impressive milestone to reach in DiD

Ok, CatKnight, when does your book come out? You are that good

And Cat Knight could be your pen name...I like it!