The met officer said thunder clouds , but clearing so thought might have a go. Posed as wing-man in a Vic of three a/c. Acting Flt Lead Sgt Reese spotted and attacked a 2 seat type. I stayed on his wing as he smoked the e/a. ( his 6th machine) . Turning for home, I noticed that our # 3 a/c was missing What happened ?
#4515005 - 04/06/2007:01 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,831Fullofit
The claim for Albatros from yesterday has been denied. The cloud cover over the Frontlines had increased significantly forcing Toby to stick to his own side of the mud. They’ve been assigned a patrol over friendly aerodrome at Lechelle. On their way to the ‘drome, Mulberry noticed a pair of dots crossing the lines and heading straight for them. He prepared for a battle but when the two dots turned out to be two SPADs, he breathed a sigh of relief. The two tan biplanes raced passed them without looking back. Must have been late for tea. Further on he spotted a flight of Quirks escorted by Fees. Toby said a silent prayer for them as they crossed the lines into enemy airspace. There was a good chance not all of them would be coming back. When they arrived over Lechelles he knew they were too late. Several hangars were in tatters with bomb craters scattered around them. The Huns’ve already been here and gone. There was no sign of them. They meandered above the field for a while. After their patrol was over they returned home along the front lines without seeing a single Hun.
"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys, The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain, From out of my arse take the camshaft, And assemble the engine again."
#4515035 - 04/06/2010:20 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
“Herr Ganz!” It was the good doctor. “I think you will be able to return to your Jasta tomorrow.” Ganz was looking out the window. On good days he could see the patrols take off as Cateau was just a mile from the airfield. Wulf and Ey had dropped by a few days ago to check on him. According to Wulf, the English and French were making a push and they needed every airman now. Ganz had assured Wulf he would be ready. Ganz turned toward the Dr. “I want to thank you Doctor, the stay here has not been bad. But, I believe I have had enough of your hospitality” Ganz said with a smile. The Dr. continued, “you may have some headaches for a while.” He handed Ganz a bottle of pills, Take one of these when you feel you need to.” Ganz looked at the pills. “These will not adle my senses will they?” He asked. The Dr. laughed, not at all!” Ganz never thought it could be so but he could not wait to get back to his Jasta.
Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end. BOC Member since....I can't remember!
#4515047 - 04/07/2012:05 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Carrick - good stuff. Wonder what No.3's fate was....safe, I hope... Fullofit - Quirks escorted by Fees. Dear god. I hope Mulberry gets as many of those damned hun raiders as possible. I have a feeling they'll be back at La Bellevue before long... MFair - Aha, Herr Ganz has recovered just in time to enjoy the month from the 'right' side of things!
2nd. Lt. Evan C. Easom, No. 48 Squadron RFC.
April 5th, 1917.
The night of the 4th, in the Bell tent with Ackerman in another drunken, silent daze, was atrociously cold, despite the slowly-warming spring weather. Evan had managed a cap of brandy to warm himself before Ackerman had drained the bottle, murmuring an undirected curse under his breath and slumping over, still in uniform. Evan only removed his tunic to sleep, throwing his thick wool cover over himself and shivering in the almost vacuum-like chill. From one of the Sergeants put on the AA guns he’d bartered, using cigarettes, a pair of the man’s puttees, which he now wrapped around his double-socked feet in a vain attempt to stave off the painful chill.
In the morning, the pilots made their way lethargically to the Mess, the bitterness of the raid and lost comrades still lingering in the air. Capt. Robinson was awaiting them patiently beside the Operations board with its freshly chalked-in sorties. Once all the Squadron pilots had arrived, he called for attention. “Gentlemen, from now on we will be taking a bigger role in this war. The big infantry push is four days away, no doubt you’ve heard the preliminary artillery over the past few days, so expect us to be doing more reconnaissance work. I also want at least one machine and crew on standby at all times, in case those damned huns come back to raid us again. Crews on alert will be posted on this board, and will rotate each hour and a half”. The room was silent, save for the odd sipping sound of a pilot taking a gulp of tea, or coffee.
“We will be operating in and around Arras, reconnoitring the Hun trenches. I want you all to look out for artillery positions and any unusually large troop concentrations. One crew from each flight will be detailed for aerial photography”. A batman passed a cup of tea to the Captain, and he uttered a quiet thank-you. As he took a sip, Evan thought that he looked very tired. “‘B’ Flight will be on the first show, over Arras. I’ll lead the flight myself. I want every airman to be on the lookout for Vee-Strutters. Remember, if we are attacked, keep formation and catch them in the crossfire!”.
Evan endeavoured to secure himself a cup of coffee and breakfast before he had to get ready. As he sat down to eat, Ackerman entered the mess, rubbing at his reddened eyes, and slumped down into the seat next to Evan. “Morning, Ackerman,” Evan tried, tentatively. His room-mate made no reply.
At 11 O’Clock, the pilots of ‘B’ flight climbed into their machines, and promptly Robinson’s Bristol shot forwards, followed by Holliday’s, and then the five remaining Bristols. One by one, they slowly turned off to the East before slowly forming into a ‘V’. Scarcely ten minutes after they had taken off, the engine of Evan’s Bristol suddenly groaned unnaturally, and began to cough thin, grey smoke. Panic immediately set in - Fire! As he switched off and glided down, hastily firing a signal flare to inform Robinson of his trouble, he realised with great relief that, no, the engine wasn’t on fire. But, something was definitely wrong with it, and so he curved down in a wide ‘C’ to return to La Bellevue, coming down two or three fields short. With a great sigh, he heaved himself from the cockpit. “Bit of a bust, that, eh?” Wickham said behind him, and he scoffed. “Typical. That big speech from the Captain this morning and we have a dud engine”. Evan sighed. “I think we’ll be awfully in shape by the end of this war, if we keep having to walk everywhere,” he replied, and the two airmen set off back towards La Bellevue.
Bitterly, as they arrived back on the aerodrome, Evan motioned over one of the Ack-Emmas. “We came down just South of here, a couple fields over. That’s where the machine is. Do you think you could fetch it for us, Corporal?”. The mechanic, a Corporal by the name of Blair, gave Evan an unimpressed look. “Well, oi s’pose I’d better ‘ad, Sir” he replied.
It was around lunchtime when Evan heard the telltale rumble of Bristols returning to the field. As he lounged back in one of the armchairs beside the fireplace, he listened to the engine of the first Bristol, humming louder as it came in to land. Then, here came the second. He heard it through the thin Mess walls as it taxied and switched off. With a twinge of confusion, he realised that he couldn’t hear any other machines. These two must have returned early. He lit a cigarette, deeply inhaling and allowing himself to sink further into the armchair, when suddenly the door to the mess swung open, rattling viciously against the outer wall and startling Evan and the two ‘A’ flight pilots that also occupied the mess. The invader was Ackerman, who stormed across the mess, still in full flying gear and with his face oil-blackened, and slammed his hand down on the bartop. “Whiskey!” He demanded of the gobsmacked bartender, who quickly produced a glass and uncorked a bottle. “The Bottle, curse you!” Ackerman roared, snatching the bottle from the table and swigging greedily from it.
“What the bloody hell is all this about, Chris?” one of the ‘A’ flight pilots shouted over, and Ackerman swung around on his heel with a wild, animal look in his eyes. “We ran into them, didn’t we? The damned Richthofen Circus! They tore us to pieces!” The words reverberated off the walls, as the ‘A’ pilot fell silent. Swaying like a lunatic on his feet, Ackerman aggressively drank once more from the bottle, before seeming to go into a numb, vacant state, wandering off in a daze and slumping down at the mess table. Holliday then appeared in the doorway, he, too, in full flying gear. Shakily he removed his helmet, quietly approaching the Batman who stood dutifully in the far corner, doing his best not to show any surprise at Ackerman’s outburst. “Sergeant Davis,” Holliday said, almost in a whisper. “Fetch all the aircrew”.
Within fifteen minutes every pilot and observer, even Shaw, the Sergeant-Pilot from ‘A’ flight, had been assembled in the Officers’ mess, sitting or leaning in lines before Holliday, who stood with a glass of port in his hand. The aircrew pretended not to notice the ripples in the liquid, as the glass quivered slightly in his hand. Ackerman remained at the mess table, still in his daze.
After a pause, in which the energy in the room became charged with sinister anticipation, the men fell into silence and looked expectantly at Holliday. He took a long sip of his port, and then he spoke. “Captain Roberts is gone. Adams, Cooper, Leckler and their observers, too. All dead”. The room stirred. Hushed disbelief echoed among the men. “...Which makes me acting C.O”. The mess stagnated unnervingly. Evan’s thoughts raced. ‘The Richthofen Circus’, Ackerman had said. Evan knew of them. Manfred von Richthofen, the top living German Ace, who flew a red aeroplane. He’d read about him in the newspapers.
Evan thought about what would have happened had his engine not failed earlier that day.
Last edited by Wulfe; 04/07/2012:05 AM.
#4515055 - 04/07/2001:53 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Wulfe, the story of the air raid and Rast’s unexpected death was shocking. Things are building up to Robinson’s last flight! As I was writing this episode, you posted the outcome of that flight. I’m not sure they did interventions in 1917, but Ackerman is going to need one very soon. With luck, Evan will get to fly his Bristol the way God intended.
Epower, I really enjoyed the story of Oliver’s basic flight instruction and chuckled at the Aussie’s comment. Absolutely terrific job setting up this character.
Carrick, some great pictures of the dark clouds there. Is Nigel flying a Nieuport 17 or 23?
Fullofit, I agree with what Buckeye Bob said. Toby processes Huns like he was gutting fish!
MFair, it will be good to see Ganz back in the air again!
Lou, a massive thank you for slipping me a copy of your work in progress at Vert Galant /Galand. It looks tremendous and the work on the farm at the corner is first rate. Hats off to you and FullofIt on that one. I tried to show it off a little in this episode…
An Airman’s Odyssey – by Capt James Arthur Collins, VC, DSO, MC
Part One Hundred and Fourteen: In which the war turns serious again
We had a late snow on 3 April. Enough fell to cover the ground and gather in drifts about the huts. Davison had to send a lorry to Amiens to fetch enough coal to keep the squadron from freezing. We had a thought to having dinner in Doullens but as the roads were icy and treacherous, we settled down instead to an afternoon and evening of poker and vingt et un. One of the new fellows, McEntegart, played a bit of piano and dutifully bashed out the RFC standards and some of the latest show tunes – “A Bachelor Gay” and “Another Little Drink Wouldn’t Do Us Any Harm.”
The guns had been pounding the Hun positions on Vimy Ridge for two weeks. Now they opened up along the whole front north and south of Arras. Even twenty miles away from the lines, the guns were loud enough to shock you and the vibration rattled the bedside tables. We spent the next day talking with the mechanics and checking our ammunition. We knew what lay ahead. Major Harvey-Kelly had us squaring things away and taking care of our personal kit. He got like this when he expected a visit from “Boom” Trenchard. But the General did not come.
The weather cleared at midday on 5 April. Orders followed quickly and we were in the air by half past four that afternoon. I led Sheeley, McEntegart, and Reed to meet a pair of Quirks over Doullens. The poor Quirk merchants were calling an artillery shoot near Vimy Ridge. The weather had turned sunny with large and scattered castles of clouds. Not trusting Sheeley and McEntegart’s formation work yet, I led them around the cloud banks and not through them. We arrived over the lines and were met almost immediately with a very large group of vee-strutters. The Huns approached from the north, directly head-on. They were scarcely a hundred feet above us and outnumbered us at least two to one. I remembered what I’d heard about Albert Ball. Ball flies directly into the midst of the Huns to confuse them. If Ball and his single Nieuport could confuse a Hun formation, I imagined that Collins and four Spads were up to the challenge. I don’t know where Albert Ball finds his Huns, but mine did not appear to confuse easily. The first few seconds were mad. A brown and green Albatros flashed in front and I fired. Tracer flew past my head, the smell of phosphorus in my nostrils. Full right rudder – hard turn. Another Hun coming straight at me. I fired. He fired. I sensed the rounds flashing past. And then it seemed that I was suddenly all by myself with three Huns for company. Two of them – these ones were DIIs – flew as a pair. The third, a DIII, worked in the opposite direction. Whatever I did left a Hun on my tail. For nearly five minutes I twisted and turned and climbed and dived, firing the odd very short burst as the lone Hun or the pair flashed past. It seemed like an eternity and then suddenly the pair was gone. I did a half-loop downwards as the vee-strutter passed yet again and caught him turning towards me. I fired a long burst into him as we closed on each other and think I must have hit something important, for the Hun put his nose down and headed east. The Spad dives like a brick and I closed on him with the throttle fully open. My second burst appeared to hit the pilot between the shoulders. Or at least I hope it did, because as I rolled to watch the Albatros fall it burst into flames. A minute or two later, Sheeley caught up with me and, pointing downwards, gave me a thumbs-up signal. This was logged as my thirty-second confirmed victory.
"The first few seconds were mad."
"Or at least I hope it did, because as I rolled to watch the Albatros fall it burst into flames."
C Flight was on standby throughout 6 April, Good Friday, from six in the morning until six in the evening. We did not have long to wait. At half past six the klaxon sounded. Enemy air activity had begun over our lines northwest of the Lens. We ran to the sheds, where our flight gear was laid out on a table by our machines. The engines were already turning over in warm. We took off into a clear sky and climbed directly toward Lens. There we spotted a lone two seater but as we approached a large group of Albatri appeared out of the sun. We climb to meet them. This group were not as keen as the gang we’d run into yesterday but it was still daunting to fight Huns whose machines out-turned hours and outnumbered us two to one yet again. I tangled with one Albatros, a DII, until he decided to quit the game. Then I spotted another on the tail of a Spad about a thousand feet below. I dived on the HA and hit him with a burst before he knew I was there. The enemy pilot immediately dived towards his lines. There was no escaping the Spad in this situation. I fired nearly two hundred rounds before the Albatros began to smoke and dipped into a shallow dive that became ever steeper. The Hun crashed and made his reserve trenches. There was a Spad a half-mile off and I hoped its pilot could confirm my kill. I could not be sure, but the machine looked like Sheeley’s. I returned to Vert Galant and reported to Watley, the RO. He said he would check with Sheeley when he landed.
"I fired nearly two hundred rounds before the Albatros began to smoke and dipped into a shallow dive that became ever steeper."
Sheeley never did land. We never saw him again. My Hun went down as “driven down” – an indecisive result. Sheeley had never had a chance. He arrived with only six hours on single-seat scouts and none on a Spad. He was a novice to formation flying and had broken his undercarriage twice in a week. Now he was at the sharp end of a push. Now he was gone.
That afternoon we were ordered to shoot up the a station north of Douai. These were terrible missions for our machines. With no bombs and only one machine-gun, there was so little that we could do. The task left us at low altitude, deep in Hunland, and surrounded by enemy aerodromes. We did as we were told and shot the place up. I ordered the fellows to use no more than one hundred and fifty rounds in case we had to fight her way home. As it was, we encountered a huge formation of enemy scouts. Fortunately, they did not see us so far below them and against the earth.
April would be a long month.
#4515058 - 04/07/2002:09 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Raine - you are most welcome, glad you're making use of it. Poor Sheeley, yet another green, under-trained pilot who really didn't stand a chance. How many more of those will become fodder for the Albs I wonder.
Carrick - so Nigel's crew, just like Collins' lot, were sent to attack a rail-yard with nothing but their single guns. HQ is off their bloody rockers if you want my opinion. Glad he made it back in one piece.
Wulfe - sometimes a dud engine can be a real life saver. Evan was spared that encounter, but the Circus is definitely in town to stay and Bloody April's only just begun. Fingers crossed your man makes it through the month. Fingers crossed for all the King's pilots here actually.
MFair - good to see Gunther is being cleared for flight duty again. Just in time to join his friends in the big show. Be careful up there.
Fullofit - even though he doesn't need it, too bad on Toby's latest denied claim. I've no doubt he'll have plenty of chances to raise his score closer to that hundred mark. And those poor Quirks indeed, can't imagine how those sods will survive the impending madness.
Epower - Oliver's in an actual plane at last. Now the fun truly begins. Another fine report, and screenshots as well.
Lederhosen - great to see you back with us! I look forward to your first report from your new man.
BuckeyeBob - yeah, Toby's clinical all right.
Beanie - stay a while, have a drink.
7 April 1917 66 Squadron R.F.C. Vert Galand, France
Despite two days of dud weather, followed by a day of no enemy air encounters for Captain Swanson, there was still big news. America had at long last declared war on Germany and was going to join the fight! Now how soon that was to actually happen was as yet unclear. Still, exciting stuff. Further news, General Trenchard and his aide Captain Baring would be visiting all the RFC squadrons in the area tomorrow, so preparations were being made and sprucing up was under way. Amid all this the job of war of course continues, and to that end Swany and his crew were tasked to knock down an enemy gasbag across the way. Here is that late-morning sortie in a nutshell.
Captain Swanson attempts to lead B Flight over to attack the Hun balloon northwest of Cambrai, however 2nd Lt. Gordon Taylor keeps wanting to take the point.
Rockets missed, gun jammed, while the dam'd sausage continues to float there mocking the King's airmen.
After repeated efforts to free up the Vickers the bent casing is at last ejected and Swany goes back to finish the job left undone by the rest of his crew.
A most warming sight, but one not enjoyed long as B Flight must now make a run for the lines with a swarm of V-strutters in angry pursuit.
The furball begins just on the friendly side of the mud and the Captain is about to take a shot when Lieutenant Montgomery horns in on his target, nearly colliding with him in the process.
Swany leaves his first target to the interloper and chases down one of the now-retreating Albs, catching the Boche low over the friendly trenches.
The fleeing Hun is soon reduced to a smoldering crater, and as Swanson brings his kite around he wonders, "How has that lone building survived the unending shelling?"
Back at camp, after parking his Pup in front of the north hangar, Captain Swanson heads off to have some pointed discussions with at least two of his flight mates about their unacceptable and dangerous behavior.
#4515210 - 04/07/2009:16 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,831Fullofit
MFair, glad Herr Ganz is on the mend. He will need a lot of headache pills to deal with those Tripes. Let’s see what those Jasta 6 boys are made off.
Wulfe, another terrific tale. Evan must be thanking his lucky stars, but one of those days he will eventually meet the Circus. That will be the day they will find out what the Brisfit was made for. Too bad about Robinson. Hopefully Holliday will be more receptive to unconventional aerial battle tactics.
Raine, gutting them like fish? Well, if their machines look like fish, then why not? That is a mighty handsome barn you have there, you lucky dog! Yikes! That was some scrap. Good thing Collins came out of it in one piece and still able to smell phosphorus. Congrats on your latest victories. No matter how many, each one tastes sweet. And one more thing: where do you find all these nice juicy Schwarms full of tasty targets?
Lou, that 100 mark will signify Toby’s demise. He will have to transfer to Fees (if there are still any flying). I see there may be at least two more broken noses at Swany’s camp. The audacity, the cheek, the sheer stupidity of getting in front of his Pup. I would have continued to fire “through” the idiot. They can only learn from their mistakes.
There were four of them circling above when Toby and his flight were ordered to scramble. It was dawn and the enemy planes were easily visible against the dark sky with the rising sun illuminating lower surfaces of their wings. There was no need for Archie to show him the way and there was no need for the powerful spotlight to highlight his targets. Toby saw very clearly through his rage. These intruders were harassing them each morning. Toby would make them pay. The enemy machines, seeing that scouts have been scrambled, turned east and proceeded to make themselves scarce. One pair went quickly and was ahead of the other pair which lingered behind fore some reason. Toby craned his neck up at all times to keep his targets in view. He finally caught up to them and commenced his fire. The trailing machine was hit and after some time caught on fire. Toby quickly switched to the other machine and opened fire again. The enemy dove for the deck to pick up some speed and Mulberry followed. He could see the other pair ahead staying high and decided to disengage. His machine was already dangerously approaching safe dive speeds. He climbed back to pursue the other two Huns. He knew the one diving would be picked up by his flight.
The sun was now peaking through the clouds and the trailing Hun was coming into view. Just as Toby was about to squeeze the trigger the two-seater began to turn spoiling his aim. Mulberry quickly adjusted his aim and opened fire. He was now close to the other machine and could see the individual silhouettes of the gunner and the pilot. His bullets ripped into the fuselage. Toby watched as the gunner went down and the next second the pilot as well. The enemy machine was now free falling to the ground, but Toby didn’t have time to watch it crash. There was another Hun in the air and of all the luck his Vickers has jammed. He continued to bang on the breach to dislodge the bent cartridge. He also kept his position behind and below the DFW. Finally! The jam was clear and Mulberry’s machine gun was now ripping into the last Boche aeroplane. He nearly had him, but his ammo belt held only 500 rounds and he just fired his last few. He watched with disgust the Hun fly away in opposite direction. Toby thought to himself next time this one may not be so lucky. He returned to Furnes and claimed 2 DFWs.
Hq ordered another Strike at the same Rail Jct. Right O. I was lead with 3 a/c while top cover had 3 more a/c. Same routing so tried to hit the target from the enemy side to surprise them. No dice. we were coped by 2 V Strutter's top cover lost one N-17. then the e/a was on us. Taka Tacka scatter then turn, I took 8 hits before my wingman got him the other e/a didnt stick around so I hit the target with a drum at low level then haul &&& for home. We lost 2 a/c that day. Dont know what happened to the other pilot in my flight but we landed with only 2 a/c.
Last edited by carrick58; 04/08/2001:24 AM.
#4515257 - 04/08/2001:25 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Great reading gents! We really do have some 1st rate authors here. Well I’ve been out almost 3 weeks. I could not stand it so here is one of tomorrow’s missions.
Offstv Gunther Ganz Jasta 6, Wassigny April 7th1917
Ganz was glad to be back at Wassigny. His head was still bandaged but he was cleared to fly. The Dr. had made Ganz a bandage with a strap that would pull it down snug. Something like an eye patch but it was worn over his right forehead and pulled tight around the back of his head. It was, surprisingly, very comfortable to wear. Ganz had tried putting his leather flying helmet over it and found it to work well.
Wulf was glad to see Ganz return as everyone knew the English and French were starting a big push any day and he needed all of his pilots. Especially the more experienced ones. “Herr Roth is running up his score quickly! It’s good you are back so you can retain the unofficial title of our leading ace!” Wulf said. Ganz laughed, “I’m sure I will have my opportunities Sir. At present I just want to get back to flying.” Would slapped him on the shoulder, “Come, let’s have dinner. I’ve ordered the cooks to lay out the works!”
Ganz encountered all the ribbing a pilot back from hospital. Everything from how some pilots will do anything for leave to crude jokes about nurses. It was all in good nature but then Herr Roth sitting across from stated that the bandage did not look big enough to warrant almost 3 weeks away. Ganz reached behind his head, pulled the strap taking the bandage off his head and stated, “judge for yourself.” The wound was about 3” long and still open. It was ghastly. Wulf quickly restored order among the browns and howls. “I think you have proven your point Herr Ganz!” Ganz replaced the bandage and smiled. “Desert anyone!” he said.
April 8th Ganz, flying in the 2nd position, followed Wulf down the field and up into the sky. It felt good. No, it felt great! thought Ganz. They were 2 escort 2 DFW’s to bomb Lomgavesnes airfield a few miles behind the lines. They had not reached 1000 meters before Wulf pulled up sharply. It only meant one thing. Ganz looked to the side to see a Nieuport diving down. He pulled up and rolled over behind the machine firing in short bursts. He felt shaky. “Calm down” he told himself. After 300 rounds the Frenchman wobbled and nosed over headed to the ground. Climbing back up he saw another Nieuport on the tail of an Albatros. He drove him off and followed him firing the whole time. He was only a few meters behind the Nieuport. The Nieuport suddenly seemed to stop in mid air and Ganz pulled up. He felt the impact. Fear gripped him but he realized he still had control over his machine. The last he saw of the Nieuport it was spinning to the ground. Suddenly he felt sick. Wassigny was just ahead and he cut the engine to glide in on approach. He was unsure of his undercarriage and slowed to almost a stall. To his relief, it was intact and he rolled to a stop. His mechanics helped him from the machine. He was a bit wobbly. “I’m ok, thank you.” he said to Hienz who was holding him steady. Hienz smiled, “ welcome back Herr Ganz.”
Last edited by MFair; 04/08/2001:26 AM.
Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end. BOC Member since....I can't remember!
#4515270 - 04/08/2005:37 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
26 March, 1917 - Folkestone , England Weather unchanged. Channel crossing uncertain. Maybe this afternoon. CFS – Upavon. That was a time. My first English Christmas. ____________________________________________________________________
17 December 1916 – Upavon Aerodrome, England
I’m a week now at the Central Flying School. Higher Training on more powerful aircraft. I started with the Shorthorn but in the last 2 days I’ve gotten to fly the Avro. She’s a light and forgiving machine, I can throw her about with a bit more abandon than the weak, finicky old crates we flew at Brooklands. Hopefully I’ll get a chance on the B.E.2 soon. All manner of flying here, almost all of it solo, which makes for a grand time. The instructors are upping the ante each day. They give us direction and advice but much of the curriculum at the CFS is ‘learn by doing.’ No more the simple take off, circle in sight of field, land & repeat. Now, I land with engine off or climb to 5000 ft and spend an hour or more on a circuit. I’m learning the landscape around Upavon but it gets confusing with the light covering of snow, and the compass on many of these kites tacks port and starboard forever before it settles.
My new uniform is here. Morning routine just got a bit more complicated but there are plenty of the other fellows who kindly help a newly minted officer get his kit sorted. I swear Tom is staring at himself in the mirror 3 times a day.
20 December 1916 Took the B.E. up again today. She’s more powerful than the Avro but a bit heavier. Where the Avro glides somewhat reluctantly to Earth, the BE races down eagerly, like a horse straining at the bit and quickening pace when it’s rider turns toward home. At first light I was away on a long cross-country circuit. Higher and higher into the cold Winter morning. South toward the Sea.
“Now Dawn the yellow-robed arose from the river of Ocean to carry her light to men and immortals."
21 December, 1916 Winter Solstice. Christmas is almost here and the mess looks festive with all the decorations. Was it only a year ago I was home with Mother and Father? 1916 will be a proper English yuletide, what with the snowy ground and freezing weather. Christmas in California was never like this. I can’t wait. The dodgy weather means “All Leave Cancelled.” Most of us would rather fly anyway and I’ve got nowhere to go. My friends are here and, huzzah!, the Met office predicts good flying weather for the next several days.
Something else arrived today - a very nice message from the King.
24 December, 1916 Looping the BE is almost old hat by now, but I’ve yet to do two complete loops without having to dive after the first to pick up speed. Loops and slips and vertical turns. Today I tried to stand her on her tail and climb straight upwards. My joy was brief, and gravity halted my progress in short order. I forgot to kick the rudder bar hard at the top to bring her over and she thrashed about horribly. I almost went into a spin. On landing, Lt. Strugnell, one of our more experienced instructors, pulled me aside.
“Winningstad, more rudder at the top and don’t wait until you’re falling backwards, man! It's good that you’re testing the machine, but don’t pull the wings off. And another thing, I wouldn’t do that sort of maneuver anywhere near the front lines. Hang motionless in the air like that, and you’ll be a tasty snack for some passing Hun. ”Keep your speed up!”
26 December 1916 What a Christmas. A day later and I'm a bit worse for wear. The Boss, Major A.C.H. Maclean, bless him, must have pulled some strings because there were cases of wine and port, seemingly beyond number. General opinion, from those with experience in such matters, was that this Christmas dinner was by far the best in recent memory. Feasting, carols and good cheer all around. My first taste of English Christmas pudding, too. Delicious! Better even than Cook’s famous Spotted Dog on Astoria. I got a little down thinking about Mother and Father, Smokey and the boys, but couldn’t stay glum for long. Not with friends around and the entire mess singing. Port flowed, and the increasingly ribald verses of “Mademoiselle from Armentieres,” had everyone roaring with laughter. Tom and Mike added some real doozies.
A package from home! Treasure! Mother sent some heavy wool socks and a marvelous assortment of treats - jams, chocolate, and candied orange peel among others. Father sent me a new copy of the Iliad, identical to his own well-thumbed edition. Thinking about Eliza today. I wonder how she’s doing in France. We hit it off so well, i thought, but she never answered my letters. Probably been in the thick of it, what with so many wounded from the fighting this Summer and Fall. I sure would love to see her again.
Last edited by epower; 04/08/2001:47 PM.
#4515302 - 04/08/2001:44 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: May 2012 Posts: 3,976RAF_Louvert
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Epower - another marvelous write-up for your man. And the screenshot and documentation are toppers.
MFair - oh man, another close one for Gunther. That boy needs to get himself a working good luck charm and fast. Welcome back indeed.
Carrick - I fear Nigel may be losing it. What possessed him to fly that low over a Hun rail-yard? I'll bet the ground gunners there had a field day popping away at a target that close. Glad he made it back in one piece, amazing he did.
Fullofit - those predawn videos were excellent and eerie. Toby tore through those Hun two-seaters with a vengeance, up until that last one. That one nearly tore your man a new one. Glad Chesty got clear of it without an injury, or worse.
8 April 1917 66 Squadron R.F.C. Vert Galand, France
More big doings at Vert Galand. Another group arrived yesterday, 56 Squadron with the new Se5's and their start turn, Albert Ball, a fellow with nearly as many confirmed victories as Captain Swanson. It was an odd thing though, that while the famed RNAS pilot T.C. Mulberry had nearly twice as many kills to his credit as either Ball or Swanson, it was Ball getting nearly all the press. Swany could understand it in his case, he was an American volunteer, and he had discovered over the past year that a fair number of high-ranking individuals in the British military and government didn't like the idea of a Yank being in front of their own, and they'd been doing their best to play down Captain Swanson's record. But Mulberry was one of their own and yet was hardly mentioned in the papers. For whatever reason, Ball was the one to watch.
Swany and B Flight were sent out at dawn to meet up with a flight of Strutters from 43 Squadron and given the task of watching over them while they did a thorough recce of the area around Vimy Ridge, no doubt in preparation for the big push that was on the way. It was a long flight to the AO, and once there it took the Strutters nearly an hour to do their job. They were interrupted once when a group of five Albatros scouts came diving in on them, but the Hun were quickly dispersed, initially by Swanson and his crew, then immediately thereafter by seven RFC Nieuports that crashed the party. One nearly collided with Swany, at which point the Captain waved off his flight and gave the signal to regroup with the Strutters. The only other excitement was a lone Rumpler that was clearly performing the same task for the Hun that the Strutters were doing for the RFC. After watching the enemy two-seater go back and forth repeatedly about a mile away Swany decided to spoil his day and darted across to attack. Several bursts from the Vickers and the Boche bus began licking flames and streaked towards earth, a trail of black smoke marking its path. The Captain and his crew then regrouped once more and followed the Strutters back to their camp, after which they too turned for home. After nearly two-and-a-half hours aloft the sight of Vert Galand through the clouds was a most welcome one, and once back on the ground the lads of B Flight warmed up with gallons of hot tea and stacks of toast and plum jam before filling out their AARs. Sometime after that all the pilots turned out for a visit from General Trenchard, who was making a tour of the RFC squadrons in the area despite suffering a bout of bronchitis. Along with him of course was his ever-ready aide, Captain Baring. It was a less-than-pleasant visit, and a brief one, with most of the talk centered around the job that lay ahead and the potential losses to the RFC and RNAS because of continuing plane and pilot shortages. They were being asked to do a very, very big job with nowhere near enough resources to do it, but "Boom" was confident his men were up to the challenge. Time would tell.
Captain Swanson leading B Flight on an escort for a trio of Strutters from 43 Squadron up to the lines at Vimy Ridge for a recce of the area.
Over the lines near Vimy five Albatri attempt to spoil the show. Swany latches on to one that is about to attack his charges.
Suddenly, and seemingly from out of nowhere, an RFC Nieuport cuts directly in front of the Captain and steals his kill - BASTIDGE! Swany looks around to see no less than seven of the Nieups now engaged with the Hun. He waves off his own flight and they continue on with their escort.
The ground below is alive with barrages, the mud being churned up everywhere in preparation for the big push that is about to commence.
Throughout the recce a lone Hun B/R bus had been performing the same task for the Kaiser, along the same route as the Sopwiths. As the Strutters are wrapping up Swany goes after the Boche bus.
Several bursts from the Vickers and the enemy plane starts licking flames and streaks towards earth, a trail of black smoke marking its path.
After nearly two-and-a-half hours aloft, a most welcome sight through the clouds - home, and some hot tea and breakfast.
#4515303 - 04/08/2001:55 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
1 April: Intercept – Forward Observers reported that there were enemy aircraft crossing the front line and making for St Quentin approaching from the South West.
Kette Vier was tasked with patrolling from Bohain to the factories situated South West on the out skirts of St Quentin.
Feldwebel Ulrich Laumann was unable to take due to engine failure, leaving only 2 aircraft in the Kette.
To Karl’s disappointment they failed to spot any enemy aircraft and returned to Wassigny.
2 April 04h46: Patrol Behind Friendly Front Lines – Lieu-Saint-Amand to Neuilly. Uneventful flight
2 April 13h27: Close Air Support (Rumpler DV from FA 40Lb). Attacking targets in Roupy area.
4 British DH-4 heading West were spotted over the front line treaches but they did not engage. The attack was carried without the lost of any aircraft. HQ reported that there had been no serious damage inflicted on the enemy targets.
3 – 5 April: Flights Cancelled
6 April 05h45: Reconnaissance (DFW CV from FA (A) 258 Villers-Plouich to Havincourt
At 06H50 the Kette was heading North West at 10,500 feet. The 3 two-seaters were below at 8,000 feet.
A lone French Nieuport 23 heading South East attacked the DFW’s. He could not have seen the Kette coming from the direction of the sun. The Kette leader Oberleutnant Reinhard Muller signalled for the Kette to attack. Being only one enemy aircraft there was more of a risk of a collision with another Kette aircraft than from the lone Frenchman. Reinhard Muller was the first to engage the French Nieuport. Karl saw the French machine go out of control and start to break up over Hermès.
The Kette continued is escort of the two-seaters although Lt Ernst Meyer had to make an emergency landing at Brayelles air field having suffered engine failure. We were informed that his aircraft was damaged during the landing, but he was able to walk away from it (any landing you can walk away from is a good landing!)
Reinhard Muller submitted a claim for the destroyed French Nieuport 23.
6 April 14h37: Patrol Friendly front Lines – Havincourt to Bullecourt.
Almost after take-off Lt Bernard Frankl had to return to with engine failure.
At 15h36 the Kette was heading East towards Boursies when they spotted Albatros DIII’s from another Jasta engaging French Nieuport 23’s. The Kette headed towards the area, but by the time they got there the fighting had disbursed. Karl hit the side of the cockpit in frustration.
The Kette continued with the patrol which was uneventful.
7 April 04h47: Reconnaissance – Villers-Plouich to Roisel
Although enemy aircraft were spotted the flight was uneventful
7 April 13h43: Patrol Behind Friendly Front Lines – Guise to Bohaln to Escaufourt.
Kette Drei and Vier were engaged by 7 French Nieuport 23’s over Bohain. The French attacked from the West at 11,000 feet, which gave them the height advantage. Both Kettes reacted to the French aircraft as one. Karl and a Frenchman circled each other each trying to get the advantage. Their private battle positioned them away from the furball and West of Bohain. Both pilots made a pass at each other and Karl was able to hit the French aircraft. Karl saw a smoke trail coming from the French aircraft, so he pressed the attack. The Frenchman attempted to get away on a couple of occasions. Finally, Karl got on to the tail of the French machine and fired a number of long bursts of 30 – 40 rounds each. They had both descended to round 2,000 feet when the French aircraft went out of control and crashed destroyed near a line of trees, 2 miles West of Premont and 2,5 miles from Mont St. Martin (apologises - I know these should be in kilometres).
On his return to Wassigny Karl submitted a claim for the French Nieuport 23. He awaits confirmation. Oberleutnant Reinhard Muller also submitted a claim for one French Nieuport destroyed.
Last edited by Beanie; 04/08/2002:13 PM.
BOC Member 'BWOC BWOC BWOC'
#4515311 - 04/08/2003:17 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Lou, the reason Ball is getting more press than you and Mulberry has nothing to do with nationalities. He’s just much better looking!
Fullofit, and the score keeps climbing.
Epower, I dare say you are giving everyone a run for their money with the stories. Excellent!
Raine, stay safe bud, the Spad has never been my favorite either.
Carrick, your screen captures alway amaze me. They are excellent.
Beanie, congratulations on the Nieuport.
My apologies to any I have missed.
Offstv Gunther Ganz, Jasta 6 April 8, 1917
As the Jasta lounged waiting for their afternoon patrol, Wulf burst into the room. “To your machines gentlemen! We have inbound aircraft!” Minutes later Ganz was climbing out with his flight. They reached 2500meters and began a wide circle of the airfield. Ey signaled he had engine problems and dropped out. That left 4 in the flight. Ganz spotted the seven specs high above. They were like hawks over the barnyard. One dropped down to play and Hollar and Ganz turned to engage. As soon as they did, another dropped down in ambush. He over estimated his speed and missed his chance. Ganz was on him in a second. It did not take long before the Nieuport was tumbling to earth. He spotted another low and dove. It was a quick engagement and the Nieuport headed west. Ganz gave chase but was not gaining much ground. He was about to give up when Schubert joins him. With the mud approaching, Ganz steadied his craft and gave a long burst which startled the Nieuport. He turned and Schubert made shirt work of him. As Ganz was watching the show bullets smacked his machine and he immediately pulled into a turn. “Where did he come from” Ganz thought to himself! They were both in a circling turn trying to gain advantage. Ganz noticed the plum of vapor coming from his machine in the tight turn. Fuel leak! He was in a fix. If he broke off, the Frenchman would have him, but he knew he didn’t have long. After 5 turns the nieuport suddenly broke off and headed west. Then Ganz saw Schubert. He gave him a wave as his engine sputtered to a stop. Luckily there was a nice field for him to set down in. Kette Eins got the Coudron that the Nieuports had been escorting. It had been a good day.
Before dinner Ganz was called to Wulf’s office. He walked in an saluted. Wulf did not look up. “I just wanted to inform you that your last 3 claims have been confirmed.” He then looked up with a big smile and added “Leutnant Ganz!”
Last edited by MFair; 04/08/2003:21 PM.
Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end. BOC Member since....I can't remember!
#4515317 - 04/08/2003:46 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)