Another week comes to an end...and a bloody one at that.
Adam is still in hospital after once again proving the old (well, new at the time) adage...."Lose sight, lose the fight!".
A few days later Ingvar joined him after a nice high speed pass on a B.E.2 turned into a windscreen splashed with his blood and a smoking trail back home.
In 1918, Eaton makes it three after finding out that the Hun still has plenty of fight in him. When his flight's recce gets interrupted by some D.VIIFs, Eaton is A-holes and elbows trying not to get pasted.
He eventually separates a single D.VII from the flight and chases him to low altitude. The fight see saws back and forth until the Hun gives up the ghost and tries to run for home. He then proves the also "new" adage of being "out of altitude, airspeed, and ideas".
Looking around and suddenly feeling very alone, Eaton heads for the allied lines...and almost makes it.
Suddenly, there is a terrible tearing sound and blood spatters his windscreen. Eaton looks back to see two more D.VIIs who must have come out of altitude to jump him. Despite taking a shellacking, the SPAD somehow stays together. But it can't be for long. Eaton twists and turns. He has no altitude to keep his speed up, and the SPAD is no angles fighter. The best he can do is continually attempt to spoil first one then the other Hun attack. But he's getting lower and slower. How long can the engine last?
Miraculously, one Hun calls it a day. Now, it's just 1v1.
"Well my friend" says Eaton, "I may not be going home tonight. But neither are you."
In the end, the Hun doesn't make it home.
Eaton does.
By far, things are going best for the Brits and thank God, my entire air contingent is in the hospital!
Harry has been playing old Harry (see what I did there?) with the Boche in the north. He has been on the receiving end of a surprise Halberstadt attack, but the Pup is made of stern stuff. And he's been giving the Huns some love in return, despite the blasted weather.
George has moved to the Snipe after a rolling twisting fight with a beautiful and well flown D.VII that lasted ten minutes.
George finds the Snipe a fun crate, but still no stroll in the park when up against D.VIIs
Hmmm, this should be fun.
All my lads have found out the hard way this week just how survivable their machines are when it comes right down to it. Luckily, George pulled through this scrape.
After the action this week, I'm exhausted.