Ah, sorry chaps, been distracted recently. My RTX2070 didn't last long before going up in flames (not literally) but my dear old mate at NV managed to find me a 2080 to replace it! So I'm back in business, but like others in the campaign, Lazlo is snowed in. Good thing really, as he's not been doing too well recently. A couple of close calls!

MFair, great to see Ganz doing well. Hang onto this one!

Seb, you've only been in this thing for 10 minutes and you have 9 victories already. Impressive work!

Fullofit, OK enough of the breasts and back to knocking Huns out of the air. Leave our Halbs alone please!

Lou, get young Swaney back in the air. His country needs him! Enough with the clogs and dikes

Raine, you're off adventuring by now. Hope you have a great trip!

MartinDavies, welcome to the less than friendly skies! Great to have a new fellow along for the fight, exciting start for, err, you!

Oberleutnant Lazlo Halász,
Jasta1, Proville, Flanders
February 4th - 5th 1917

It had been a raucous evening. Lazlo and his fellow pilots were up till the early hours drinking, dancing, and singing. Lazlo had managed to bring down yet another balloon, marking his 10th victory. Von Keudell teased him that he was still two victories ahead of him, on 12. The two men were the leading pilots in the Jasta, and had great respect for each other.

"The problem is being, the youngsters", Lazlo had confided in a slurred tone. "They is not getting the trainings which is needed, and then they come here wanting to kill Frenchmen, thinks it is easy thing to do and boom!", Lazlo made a loud clapping noise, "they are blowed out of the skies. just one or two missons, maybe. Big waste. More training needed." He sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching the embers burn in the grate. Tomorrow they would be balloon hunting again. Lazlo knew he should turn in for the night but he decided to have one more drink....

The morning of the 5th was bitterly cold once again. They set off toward their target. When they arrived at the target, Lazlo was preparing for his first pass at the large dirigible when he was rudely interrupted by several bullets to his upper right plane, courtesy of a DH2. The fellow seemed like a good pilot. Momentarily distracted from his task, Lazlo turned and pursued his assailant until it was clear the fellow was running for his nearby air field. Lazlo turned back for the balloon. As he neared he heard the sound of another DH2 closing in on him. He cursed under his breath and turned his machine away from his target. At that moment a loud bang and a blinding flash of orange burst upon him. Lazlo felt a surge of pain around his temple but managed to steady his machine, although clearly something was not right. Flak!, thought Lazlo, the first time he'd ever experienced a direct hit from it, and now he was leaking fuel. Well behind enemy lines, Lazlo had no choice but to look for a safe spot to land. He tried desperately to get closer to the lines, thinking it would give him more of a chance to escape. Finally, after a very tense descent and a risky landing, he was able to clamber out and find a hiding place while he waited for darkness to descend. No matches! he had searched his jacket pockets. Maybe he'd left them in his machine, but there was no going back to burn it, since French ground troops had already arrived at the scene and were inspecting the German craft, stripping it of mementos. Lazlo finally was able to sneak back across no mans land, clouds thankfully blotting out the moonlight.

"Of course, we're relieved that you are alright, Herr Halasz. However, failing to destroy your machine constitutes a grave error. I'm afraid that you will be demoted to Lieutnant as a result of this error. That is all. Dismissed".

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rec
1 Sqn RFC


Feb 12, 1917.

Day Off so went into the City and took in a show.


https://giphy.com/gifs/betty-boop-clara-b-lnriEzsL3fag66YqbS/fullscreen

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rec
1 Sqn RFC


Feb 13, 1817.

Balloon bust. Dove on a Hun Gas Bag West of Lens. I had completed my pass ( some one knock it down ) then a flight of e/a's dropped in and started copping about. 2 of our cover flight got forced down then 1 N 17 was shot down, ( Sgt Gotall ) from B Flight, I dropped on a Hun machine giving him the Drum full, Pulled up , leveled off, and reloaded. I must have hit him because he was still low and slow.
I then dove and gave him another full drum, Slowing, smoking, and going down he headed East for Lens, My claim was rejected. Enemy side of line and No witness, Losses: 2 e/a forced down listed as missing + 1 Destroyed Pilot KIA. Enemy 1 Balloon + 1 a/c forced down ? ( mine )

Carrick, looked like a nice show!

Harry, that was a close one. There are a 1000 ways to die. Glad you made it back.

MFair: Glad that they were not the V strutters coming onto the Front.

Feldwebel Gunther Ganz
Jasta 6, Flanders
Feb. 13th, 1917

The flight had eaten breakfast and were sitting in the mess awaiting takeoff. Ganz, reading a newspaper remarked to
Loerzer that “the French were consolidating there fighter units with some of their top fliers. They will be known as the Storks.” Loerzer replied, “that’s all we need eh.”

Barenfager, who was leading the flight downed his coffee and announced, “we are off gentlemen!” With that they all rose and went to their machines warming up on the field. They were to escort two DFW’s to recon the lines from Monchy to Lens. It had snowed for two days and Ganz thought it was the most glorious sight he had ever seen from the air. The skies were blue and cloudless. The earth was solid white as far as he could see.

Just north of Monchy, a flight of Nieuports, about two thousand ft. above came into view. It looked as though they would go on their way but two pulled away from their flight and circled above the flight of Albatri. Barenfanger tired of the company and signaled Holler and Ganz to take care of them. As the two started climbing, one of the Nieuport’s fled but one stayed. He certainly was game for a fight. Soon the Nieuport dove on Holler and they started circling each other. Ganz saw his chance and pulled in below the Nieuport. Raising his nose he fired 2 short bursts. The Nieuport immediately dove west with Ganz on his tail. After several bursts the Nieuport started spinning down. Ganz was not making the same mistake he made before and pulled up watching the Frenchman go down ear St. Vaast. Then he saw Holler dive down firing at the stricken Nieuport. The Frenchman never came out of his spin.

The two joined up and not finding their flight and went home. “I finished him off good” said Holler as they climbed out of their machines. Ganz looked at Holler with a stunned expression. “Finished him off! He was already dead!” exclaimed Ganz. Holler waved his hand in disagreement, “he was about to skeedadle home Herr Ganz.” Ganz had to be careful as Holler out ranked him. They were still arguing when Wulf joined them at debrief. “Enough of this gentleman!” Wulf exclaimed. “One of our balloons has confirmed the Nieuport. The question now is who shot him down. Both airmen started to state their case when Wulf stopped them. “I will settle this” he said as he reached into his pocket. He withdrew a coin and instructed Holler to call it as he flipped it into the air. Wulf caught the coin and announce “congratulations Lt. Holler”

Note: Carl Holler, in his wartime letters states that one of his victories was settled by the commandant by a coin toss.

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rec
1 Sqn RFC

1 un confirmed


Feb 14, 1917.

Patrol : No Contact.

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rec
1 Sqn RFC

Borrowed the Motorcycle from Maintenance and popped down the road to a FEE Sqn. I traded a flight coat and 3 Bottles of wine for a 97 rd Lewis Drum used on the bomber. I figure it might give me an edge when coping about with the Huns

Lou, glad to have you back. Now, have Swany receive a swift one in the pants and get back to this war business.

MFair, congrats on the Iron Cross. Always better than the wooden one. Make sure Günther continues to receive the iron kinds.
Don’t worry about the stolen kills. What goes around, comes around.

Seb, looking forward to von Toombs resuming his quest. Hopefully he’ll stay away from the hospital for a long while.

Harry, what?! What the? Lazlo’s demoted for “not smoking”? That ain’t right! I’m appalled. Isn’t it enough he survived? The nerve!

Carrick, too bad about that unconfirmed Halb. You’ll get him next time.


13 February, 1917 09:00
St-Pol-sur-Mer, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar
57 confirmed kills

Toby and his flight were sent to patrol over St-Omer. They circled the ‘drome for 25 minutes without encountering other planes. Mulberry’s engine went dud near the end of patrol. He had to put down at St-Omer. When he got back to St-Pol the rest of the squad was in the midst of packing up. Tomorrow they’ll be transferring closer to the Front.

Fullofit - Lucky for us Hun that you can't find us, slightly concerned though you're moving closer to the front and therefore closer to me!

HarryH - Well done on getting home ok! Its a risky thing this flying lark!

MartinDavies - Glad your boy is still alive - I look forward to reading his adventures!

carrick58 - Well done on the 'Gas Bag' - Hope its confirmed for you A show and a lewis gun great work!

MFair - That's a superb detail about the coin toss, shame your man didn't get it though ... very sporting!

War Diaries Of Sebastian von Toombs

"...the poor chaps had the fright of their lives seeing me fall as a falcon on a mouse before, in an instant, I realised my mistake!"

Feldwebel Sebastian von Toombs
Jasta 18
Halluim /Rekkem
9 Confirmed Kills
No Claims Pending

Sunday 14th February 1917

St. Valentines Day. We spent a very cold hour this morning at first light with the chaplain. I read the lesson today it was from St. John’s Gospel; it was about love. The passage was Jesus’ words to his disciples, “Greater love Has no man than he lays down his life for his friend”. These words I think touched us all profoundly, as we fly and fight laying down our lives for our country men, family, wives, sweethearts and children. We thought too of Josef and Jacob who had died beside us, instead of us, and we vowed to remember them. As we left chapel there was a heavy, somber mood among us, each of us daunted that these words were some kind of prophetic foretelling spoken over our fates today. In silence and reflection we walked to our huts and dressed quickly in the warmest clothing we could find, each one standing as close as possible to the faithfully burning stoves at the centre of our lodgings.

Earlier, the Sun had dawned on the most beautiful spectacle. The trees, tents, buildings and airfield was covered in the most spectacular show of snow, white, pure, untouched and unsullied by war. Icicles were beginning to form around the entrances to hut and tent. Warm air meeting the early morning icy breath giving birth in turn to glistening daggers drawn invisibly to the frozen earth below. Our invisible enemy, Gravity, always mischievously at work.

We could barely walk to our planes so muffled against the cold were we. Goose fat smeared our cheeks, noses and lips. Fur coats and scarves wrapped tightly around us as we sought to smuggle the heat from our huts as some kind of illicit contraband into the brisk, frigid air.

Our engines were being warmed up by mechanics, and we were ready for the off. It was cold, but Lord it was beautiful! To be in the icy blue air that day was a joy and privilege that I shall never forget. After eight days earthbound, six of them hospitalised, to be, once more floating above all life was a miracle and delight.

Our patrol was a long one, south as far as Arras with the majority of our time over the lines in enemy airspace. Early on we saw a number of fellow German Pilots, Halberstadt’s, DFWs and other Albatros. But once over the lines the skies were blue and empty. I sought continually for specks that spoke of enemy life but saw none. I was fooled a couple of times, by the glare of the snow, and once utterly taken in by two DFWs returning from west to east near Lens.

I descended on them quickly having got the jump on them, and the poor chaps had the fright of their lives seeing me fall as a falcon on a mouse before, in an instant, I realised my mistake. I relished the blunder as I climbed back to the schwarm, laughing into my scarve like six year old. Walter who was leading Zwei today was smiling too at my comic antics as I drew level at 3000meters. We were airborne for just under 100 minutes. Over an hour and a half of sheer joy and soaring delight! Oh for the wings of a dove, who, I believe, is never weighed down by its wings!

"...To be in the icy blue air that day was a joy and privilege that I shall never forget."

To be Continued...

Wonderful storytelling, Seb! You are very good at capturing the mood and inner thoughts of von Toombs, and conveying his youthful exuberance for the pure joy and beauty of flying. How long will it take for the ugly realities of war to rob poor Toombs of his innocence? Or, will he be one of the lucky few who escape such a fate?

Bob, thank you so much, that’s really great encouragement! Have a great day sir!

Seb

Seb, I’m with Bob. Great storytelling. Now all we need to do is knock this nonsense out of your head and transform you into a bitter, grizzled, disillusioned killer.

14 February, 1917 08:00
St-Pol-sur-Mer, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar
57 confirmed kills

They were landing one after another. First Compston then Crandall, Thom, Booker and Scudmore. Toby was last in line, making sure everyone was safely on the ground before landing himself. The flight took less than half an hour and they’ve moved 15 miles further east. Mulberry could see the frontlines while circling the aerodrome. It will be now much easier to reach the Huns. His engine came to a stop and an Ack-Emma was already standing beside ‘Anne’ to help him disembark.
“- Welcome to Furnes, Commander!”

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rec
1 Sqn RFC

1 un confirmed


Feb 15, 1917.

I got shot down today. Posted to an 8 a/c Patrol to Escort Be's as we join up a flight of Albatros Scouts fell on us. I fell on one e/a as it passed then my left aileron fell off as bullet holes peppered my wing. Spining out of control. I saw a Be on fire and going down. The e/a gave me up as a victory, but I recovered near the deck and plopped her down hard doing a ground loop breaking up part of the other wing. Started hiking towards a Farmhouse in the distance.

Fullofit - I'm not entirely sure young Toombs will ever get over the sheer joy of flying, I guess it depends on how long he lives... Jasta 18 morale is 'very high', we'll see if a few more deaths change all that. come to think of it Toby being in Furnes may change all that!

carrick58 - Great escape! glad you brought her down safely! Were the natives friendly?

War Diaries Of Sebastian von Toombs

"..I swallowed down the fear in my throat and started to breath deeply, and find my focus."

Feldwebel Sebastian von Toombs
Jasta 18
Halluim /Rekkem
9 Confirmed Kills
2 Claims Pending

Monday 15th February 1917

Last night we celebrated life, adventure and a noble cause, we felt invincible. The drink flowed freely and toast after toast was drunk. Paul Strähle made a speech that captured our mood most fittingly, and with glass held high he made a toast to battle. He began by tapping his glass. He gained our drunken attention and preceded to wobble slightly as he climbed up onto a chair.

“Gentleman, brothers, airmen of the Kaiser. “ He began, ”The infantry moan, ‘From battle, murder, and sudden death, Good Lord, deliver us!’“ He quoted, pausing and taking a sip from his glass. Gaining confidence and supernatural stability he continued. “I ask you, how can any breathing man ask for that? These are our meat and drink! The very things that make life worth living!” The Mess was swept away, myself included, and cheered him on enthusiastically. There is no one like Paul for romanticising what we do day after day! When he’d had a skin-full he gives the chaplain a run for his money for eloquence and lifting our spirits, and tonight, our spirits were already pretty high and soggy. Truth to tell, the chaplain would have run a mile from this particular competition.

Paul continued, embracing us all with a wide sweep of his glass, “Into battle, murder, and sudden death, Good Lord, deliver us ... up to our scarf-covered necks! That’s what I say’ Lifting his class, head held high, his chest puffed out, he toasted us all in a booming voice, “To battle murder and sudden death!”**

“To battle murder and sudden death!” We cried eagerly as one man. At which point he was unceremoniously lifted from his perch and carried around on our shoulders, he was in that moment our king, spokesman and cheerleader-in-chief. Moments later one of my alcohol-fuelled comrades managed to slip, fell flat on his face, followed, like falling dominos, by half the Jasta. We lay a heap of tangled bodies arms and legs, my shoulder wound throbbing ever so gently as we laughed.

It was at this point the Kommandant, sitting untouched on a corner table cleared his throat and attempted to bring some order, discipline and sobriety to the occasion. He said, “Well done chaps, let’s call it a night now shall we? Can’t very well have the whole Jasta all hospitalised stinking like a brewery can we now?” One by one we drifted or staggered from the mess chased by the moonlight.

The morning still with throbbing shoulder and throbbing head, I joined the rest of the chaps in the mess eating cold sausage and smoked fish and drinking a litre of steaming coffee. The briefing was short, patrol over friendly lines the Tommies are becoming bolder and bolder each day. Our goal was our airfield at Wynghene.

The snow was more scarce this morning, but the air no less crisp and as blue and bright as yesterday and I longed to be airborne once more. Undaunted, by my headache and shoulder wound I dressed and made my way to the field. Hans Greer, my mechanic was waiting for me, we smiled and exchange details of the warm up, he told me for the second day running how good it was to have me back! I felt genuinely warmed by our conversation, simple and affirming as it was! I know my plane is well cared and in good hands when I’m away from her.

As we were on our outward flight, flying in beautiful formation just over Ledgem I spotted flak being fired near the Passchendale Observation Balloon. I thought the Kette would have noticed, but it seemed I was the only one. I flew to investigate, but seeing that the rest of the kette, remained on course I was presented with a dilemma, should I continue to investigate or should I fly back to the kette? I decided to investigate the voice nagging me and reminding me that I have only been out of hospital a few days and should therefore take no risks was drowned out by Paul’s booming exaltation from last night “To battle, murder and sudden death”. I thought too about the chaps in the Observation Balloon being shot at like wooden ducks at a fair and decided there was only one honourable thing to do. “Greater love has no man than he lays down his life for a friend... and all that!”

I pointed my faithful Albatros at the flak bursts and started to climb. I was resolved to surprise them and jump on the enemy from hight. I approached And got into a good position. At about 3km away I could see that my prey were three pushers, DH2s or such like. I continued climbing knowing that although they had the numbers their aircraft were at a huge disadvantage. At 500 meters I was astern and above them and thought I would have this in the bag. Once more I heard Paul’s words.

They had moved on from the balloon and were now flying south our side of the lines which meant to my disadvantage I was flying into the sun. Suddenly the three planes turned in an instant and started flying towards me. I’d been rumbled. I swallowed down the fear in my throat and started to breath deeply, and find my focus. My goal was simple and twofold. First survive, and second to get as many snap shots off at them as I climbed, dived and turned allowing them no opportunity to get on my six. It worked. After a few minutes one dropped away leaving me with two, after a couple of particularly nice shots in one it too dropped and headed for home leaving me and one other. He and I fought in a twisting, sparkling and spiralling dance, finally I was one his six and got a number of bullets into him. He span to earth, but it was a ruse ... he recovered his spin and a low altitude began to make his escape. For a moment I lost sight of him his plane dissolving into the green and browns of Flanders fields. I tried to think like him and started to fly west, a few moments later I spotted him, a black speck over a patch of he remaining snow. He was flying towards the lines. I swooped on him and he spun out of control smashing into our sector of the lines 7km directly west of the Passchendale Observation. As I had saved their bacon I hope they’ve spotted my claim.

I set course east in attempt to rejoin my Kette, somewhere, I guessed by now near Roulers. As I neared the city I spotted a single pusher type above Roulers and about 600m above me. I climbed and he’d drives to give fight. A tumbling dogfight quickly ensued. Quickly I on his tail, he too tried to fool me with the spin rouse, but I was not to be fooled and allowed no escape. I followed him as he too made for the lines. After a number of rounds I finally watched him crash in a ball of flame 400 meters south of the rail track 5000 meters direct west of Roulers city north tip. 5km north of Roulers army base, very close to BU Road Crossing at the edge of a ploughed field.


I continued east and not seeing my Kette, landed at Wynghene where the chaps were already landed, smoking, drinking coffee and eating buns laughing about the ‘empty’ skies!

I have filed two claims today both for DH2s

To be continued...

** These words are not Paul Strähle's but adapted from Leslie Charteris's Saint Novel "Enter The Saint"

Seb, with a motivator like Paul, von Toombs may stay positive for a long time. Little does he know April will provide much needed morale boost as well. As to Mulberry moving to Furnes, it should not affect the Fliegers at Halluin. Toby’s Tripes will most likely stick to patrolling the shorelines. Congrats on the two Gitterschwänze. Hopefully they will be confirmed.

Carrick, I assume Nigel is fine and has not been captured by enemy forces. Let us know.


15 February, 1917
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar
57 confirmed kills

Settling in.

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rec
1 Sqn RFC

1 un confirmed


Crossing the fields, I approached the Farm only to run into the farmer out bird hunting. Being told that there was no phone. I spent the night. I awoke early , feeling refreshed I headed for a Town 6 miles away.

Carrick, happy to hear you are in one piece.

Seb, congrats on the two claims. Be careful running off by yourself. It can be hazardous.

Fullofit, hope things go well at the new base.

Feldwebel Gunther Ganz
Jasta 6
Feb. 14

What a day! Our flight was sitting in their machines ready to take off when a tent hanger exploded! I was in a bit of a shock wondering what could have happened when 2 Strutters flew over spraying everything with machine gun fire. I didn’t know what to do and looked over at Ey, our flight commander. His machine had started to roll forward so I did the same. Ey climbed and gave chase to the Strutters. I happened to look north and was shocked to see 5 Nieuports coming down on us. It was the perfect trap. From there on out it was instinct. Tracers filing the air. Take a pot shot at one flashing by and avoiding a collision with friend and enemy. Finally I got on the tail of one chasing an Albatros and with 3 bursts he nosed into the ground with a tremendous explosion. Ganz pulled up and the sky was empty. He landed where he had taken off 10 minutes before. It was the most exciting and terrifying minutes of his young life. The flight had claimed 3. Confirmation was just a formality as the proof lay smoking within sight of the field.

Feb. 15.
Patrol Friendly territory. The flight was at 3000m west of Cambrai when Ey signaled. 3 FE’s about 300m up and to the east. We immediately gave chase. Reaching their height our machine caught up with them quick. I closed a little below and behind one and started firing. I could see pieces coming off the machine! Just before I collided with it I nosed down and turned away. At the same moment my instrument panel and wind screen went to pieces. I was also aware of a stinging pain on my thigh. I turned again and saw the FE going down in flames. “That gunner had some fight in him” Ganz thought to himself. He circled a bit bu his flight was no where to be seen so he headed home.

Feb. 16th
The whole squadron was milling around the mess. They had 15 more minutes before the morning flight when a the adjutant burst in. “Get in the air now! Inbound aircraft.” It was almost funny. Holler turned to run out the door but tripped, throwing a half full cup of coffee across the room. No, it WAS funny! “Better hurry Lt,! Your going to miss the fun!” Exclaimed Ganz. The flights were airborne in a few minutes. “There they are” Ganz said to himself as he spied 7 machines high over the field. Ganz followed Wulf on take off. The rest of the squadron scattered as soon as they were airborne. One nieuport dove on Wulf and he and Ganz were having a grand time with him before another showed up. Ganz took the new comer on but soon lost him. All this was taking place not 300 ft. above the field. While climbing for altitude Ganz saw a Strutter at ground level headed west. The Englishman never knew what happened and soon went down west of the field. Above and two the east Ganz could see 2 machines circling so he started to climb getting closer he could see Barenfanger and a Nieuport going round and round. Ganz climbed under the enemy machine and opened fire. He immediately dove to flee but Ganz and Barrenfanger were on him. Barebfanger finally sent him to the ground wow here he crashed.

It was a good day. The Jasta had claimed 3 and Ganz, with the FE yesterday and the Strutter today, was the leading Jasta Ace with 6.

Carrick, if you continue to dilly dally, they will execute you for desertion. Hurry it up, Old Bean.

MFair, I’m thinking Ganz is starting to have too much fun in his Albatros. Congrats on the latest claims. Those poor Fees and Nieups stand no chance. Just you wait till the Tripes come to town.


16 February, 1917 08:00
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar
57 confirmed kills

It was their first mission from the new base. They were given a simple assignment to start with. Take the flight up and patrol the friendly front lines between Nieuport and Diksmuide. Things are never simple.
There were six of them. Toby spotted them flying north, just east of Nieuport. One of the Huns peeled off and came straight at them. Mulberry ignored him and continued after the rest of the Schwarm. The flights merged but Toby flew straight through and emerged on the other side of the furball, checking if he didn’t pick up a tail. It seemed everyone already had a partner so he continued to observe and look for any biplanes that didn’t look busy. Soon enough he found one without a partner and Toby came behind to keep him company. The Halberstadt was slower than the Tripe and Toby had to be very careful not to collide. He damaged the German machine and continued to circle it taking potshots when possible. Eventually they were separated from the rest of the fight and getting closer to the ground. The Halberstadt was now trailing dark smoke, which made him easy to pick out against the ground clutter, but even then Mulberry managed to lose him, only to pick him up again in the form of a smoking crater. The Hun must have stalled and crashed into the ground while out of sight.

YouTube Link



Mulberry was now turning back and looking for any stragglers. He found one followed by two others. He was sure the two Tripes were chasing the Hun back to his aerodrome and he decided to help. He came closer and realized his mistake. It was a Tripe being chased by two Halberstadts and they were herding him deeper into Hunland. Toby jumped on the leader but quickly realized his wingman had spotted ‘Anne’ and was now gunning directly for her. Mulberry banked to counter the German’s move, which was now diving away, while his leader continued to follow the other Tripe. Toby made a split second decision to leave alone the Hun that was now diving away and take care of his leader first. He swung his Triplane around to follow and realized too late that the Halberstadt he was just sparring with didn’t dive away, but was coming around and was now sitting on Mulberry’s tail. Another switch. The other Tripe will have to fend for himself. Toby had his hands full. They continued to circle each other until Toby had enough of playing follow the leader and flicked his plane in the opposite direction. That move tricked the Hun and now Toby was directly behind, firing at the hapless German. His Halberstadt’s engine caught on fire and Toby watched as the inevitable was about to happen. The Halberstadt smashed into the ground and continued to burn. Mulberry was now turning for home when he noticed the other Halberstadt right in front of him. He gave chase and brought this one down on fire as well. The Tripe which the two Halberstadts were chasing came along on his starboard. Toby could see the name on the side of the cockpit. ‘Verda’ - it was Compston. The two men flew side by side all the way back to Furnes. Mulberry made another claim for 3 Halberstadts.

YouTube Link




Sorry Harry ...