Voss. Sweetheart’s name was Werner Voss. I would be taking a special interest in him. Foster was reasonably sure this was same Hun who forced him down on April 6th.
0445 hrs. Enemy aircraft sighted approaching the field. We scrambled but as usual, had no chance to catch them. I understand now that we’re just getting aeroplanes clear of any bombs that may fall. The new shelters and trenches at the field served well. No injuries and very little damage.
1440 hrs. Patrol of our lines between Havrincourt wood and Cambrai. Blustery winds and low cloud ceiling. Pixley led. I flew #2 with Sutton, Mac and Hyde. As we completed our last patrol circuit and were about to turn for home, 3 Albatri appeared 2-3000 feet overhead. They just sat on us for 5 minutes, which rather scattered our flight. When they did come down, A-Flight intercepted 2 of them and the third came on alone. Red Tail !! One of the Jasta 11 crowd.
He must have been extremely keen.
The poor sod had no chance at all. All three of us shot him. I put two 20 round bursts into him at close range.
He slumped forward in the cockpit and the Albatros nosed over into a steep vertical dive from which there would be no recovery.
Yesterday’s Magpie with the “A” and the Baron’s man from the afternoon both confirmed. Fifteen. No news yet about Monty's condition. Hit in the thigh was all I could learn. I'll get up and see him as soon as I can get away.
Ackers has a 48-hour pass, the lucky dog. No doubts about where he’s going! I gave him a note of thanks to deliver to Madame de Rochefort.
#4527606 - 06/26/2009:02 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Shelby Horace Longstreet Sgt Esc 84 of CG13 Pierrefonds, Marne Jun 26 1917.
Hell ah popping. Big fight today. On Offensive Patrol over flying e/a AF's ( show the flag and the enemy will feel bad ) The Esc put up 8 a/c out of 14. The flight was at 10000ft over Hun land and I spotted our 3 rovers diving on a flight of V struts. down I went to help. Only this Melee ran into another Flight and my remaining 4 a/c joined. I shot at every thing that passed in front and tried to help clear the tails of our machines. Hits ? the e/a kept rolling away till they got down to the deck and my Spad 7 was sluggish in maneuvers . Landed with 96 rds left of 400. We had 3 a/c destroyed + mine had 5 bullet holes to patch. Esc Claims 2 e/a. none for me.
Intell: One e/a flight had red ring on a green elevator New Unit ? the other flight mixed some had Green wheel covers.
Last edited by carrick58; 06/26/2009:25 PM.
#4527619 - 06/26/2010:44 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,887Fullofit
Lou, more AA guns at Ghistelles? Even one would be better than what they have now. It seems the Flak crews are always at the beach. That Brisfit is going to be a killer. And adding that second Lewis at the back, that’s just not fair! How is a Hun supposed to sneak up behind and survive return fire?
MFair, oh dear. Badger’s in trouble! I hope everything is alright and he will wake up in the hospital and realize the pretty prostitute he had for his 21st is also a nurse (but don’t tell anyone). Congrats on all those confirmed kills in a row. You must have broken WOFF.
Epower, what a rollercoaster! That many days squeezed into a report. I’m glad you’re catching up to the rest. Congrats on all those magpies. I’m also glad Oliver is using that bag. He’ll develop a heck of a right hook I expect. Jolly good, continue. BTW, there is nothing wrong with a cigar in an open cockpit, just look at John Belushi in 1941.
Raine, crap! Gong Fairy wasn’t kind to Hauptmann Brandenburg either. Here’s another thing to ponder how realistic WOFF is and DiD makes it that much more. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for that transfer to a Jasta, hope it’s not somewhere in Alsace. It wouldn’t make things that much more exciting, I suppose. I agree with Epower, it is a nice pic of a Gotha. Is it G.III or G.IV?
Carrick, keeping my fingers crossed for that claim to come through. Shelby needs a confirmed victory to improve his morale and get off the sauce.
In the morning the Schwarm was sent to escort 3 DFW’s from SS-30b on recon of Front lines between Menen and Paschendaele. After second circuit of the front something started to rattle in Hahn’s Mercedes engine. He decide to play it safe and detached from the formation to get to the Flugplatz as soon as possible. He was making good time and the engine appeared to hold. At one point he noticed 4 machines in the distance right at about the same altitude. He thought it could be Schwarm Eins also returning to base, but as he got closer he changed his mind. These were two-seaters. He didn’t pay much attention to them, but the other formation was getting closer still. Eventually Ziggy noticed these planes had round crosses, in fact these were no crosses at all. Enemy machines, but he didn’t dare to chase after them. His engine could go kaputt at any moment. The two-seaters were coming closer still. Hahn was not worried, they would simply fly by. Ziggy continued on. Two of the large planes detached from their formation and began their attack on the Albatros. “- Are they barking mad?!” Ziggy couldn’t believe the cheek of these Englanders. Ready or not, he had to react and teach them a lesson. He banked and the two-seater banked right with him as if it were a scout. “- What is this? How is this even possible?!” Zygmunt realized he could be in real trouble. Then his engine began to bang and clank and make other unfamiliar sounds. “- Cholera!” Ziggy had a habit of involuntarily swearing in Polish when he was in trouble. “- That won’t do.” He had no choice now but to avoid being shot at. The two large scouts continued their attempts to get on his tail. Hahn could do no more than to turn inside them, but he was running out of altitude quickly. One of the Englanders attempted a deflection shot, but missed. Ziggy thought a large letter “F” had been painted on the fuselage and the top wing. The wheel spats could have been painted blue, but he wasn’t sure. It was a close call and it was time to look for a safe landing spot. It wasn’t easy with the two Tommies at his back. He was now only a few dozen meters above ground, flying level and waiting for the bullets to begin striking his plane. Maybe the first one will hit him in the head and it will be quickly all over. The shots never came. Ziggy looked back and the rear was clear. The Englanders let him go. Maybe forcing him down was enough for them? He concentrated on his landing. Hahn found a clear field to land and gently set his machine on the ground. Once his Albatros stopped, he sat in the cockpit and began to laugh hysterically. He cheated death and he never felt more alive.
Wonderful stories gents. This war is really heating up for everyone. Too many close calls.
Lt. Ainslie Harris Bruay June 26, 1917
40RFC was at mess for dinner when Harris walked thrilling the door with his arm in a sling. “Badger!” called out Lt. Keen. The mess erupted in cheers as Harris was shown to his chair. He had to shove away the 2 drinks put in front of him. Once the commotion had calmed down, Keen demanded, “So, Badger, tell us how the squadrons top ace was bested by the Hun!” More laughter from the group. Harris rocked his chair back. “Oh, it was easy! All you have to do is fly between him and his spandau’s. Simple as that.” The squadron roared with laughter again. Harris continued to tell how one of the red machines had hit him with a good burst wounding him in the arm. With his left arm useless and his Nieuport slow on the stick he had dove west with the Hun on him the old time. “I thought I was headed for the last roundup!” He would be out a week.
As he left for his quarters the Major extended his hand. “You gave us a scare Lt. Good to have you back safe.” Harris replied, “I’m just glad to be here Sir. Thank you.”
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!
#4527652 - 06/27/2002:43 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Balloon defence near Diksmuide. Two collided, one shot down. The Kasino was loud. Träger’s dog Greif was jumping on everyone and making racket. The men conversed enthusiastically. They’ve just returned from their morning mission. Some still in their flight gear, drinking and boasting. It was an exciting mission. The two flights were sent to protect the balloon near Diksmuide. None of them reached their destination. All the action occurred right near the aerodrome. They’ve been attacked by the RFC and the men couldn’t stop talking about it. Jakob Wolff, as usual, was handing out cigars like candy. “- I was right behind young Ziggy and had the front row seat!” Wolff had to be the loudest of them all. “- As we formed up after take off I could see a hive of Englanders dropping on us from the sun. We all scattered and they just dropped right in the middle of us. There were planes everywhere. I think those were Pups, am I right Julius?” Buckler raised his head upon hearing his name, distracted from his own story being re-told to others sitting around. Greif howled. “- Yes, I’m right!” Wolff continued. “So, these Pups were everywhere. In front, behind, anywhere you looked. One of them latched onto my tail and I couldn’t shake him. Young Zygmunt here came to the rescue. Have another cigar.” He shoved one of the long, fat stogies in Ziggy’s mouth. “- He shot at the blighter and spooked him. He then caught two of those Tommies on his tail. I tried to swat them away, but I couldn’t get into position. Then something extraordinary happened. As they were circling like mad around each other, Ziggy got off a few rounds and the Englander decided to run. He kept looking behind to prevent young Ziggy here lining up the shot. He should have instead been looking ahead. The poor sod flew right into one of his own! The two Sopwiths went down. Hey Ziggy, did you claim both of them?” “- Nein Jakob, only one. I only shot at one of them.” Hahn responded still trying to spit out a bit of tobacco stuck to his tooth. Wolff continued: “- Seeing this, the rest of the Britishers decided it was time to make themselves scarce and made a beeline for das Zwischengelände, but it was not all over. We both saw another Pup and we both gave chase. Ziggy was closer but I was gaining and I would have overtaken him to take the prize, was it not for the louts flying in the opposite direction chasing another Pup. Was that you Träger? You Schwein!” There was only a rude hand gesture coming from Träger in response. “- Anyway, I had to swerve to avoid the other planes, while Ziggy continued on and in the end shot down the Pup. He went down west of the aerodrome. We can go take a look at the wreckage after the afternoon mission. Julius, did you get any of them?” Buckler was about to respond when the air raid siren went off. All the men jumped to their feet and filed out the door towards their machines. Greif stayed behind barking at nothing in particular...
Carrick - Zut Alors! What a depressing start to the weekend. I was really liking the Shelby character in his killer SPAD/truck. My condolences.
MFair - I'm greatly relieved to see the Badger safely returned to his den. Will the wound rate a stripe? If so, Dulcinea might give him a discount on his next visit to Paris, wounded hero and all.
Fullofit - I just noticed those Bristols act like dolphins herding fish into a bait ball then racing in for a bite. Very nasty. Well done by Ziggy getting out of that situation and landing his wounded machine. Is it my imagination or do enemy aircraft want to ram your pilots more than is usual? Nice disposal of the Pup there.
#4527739 - 06/28/2012:16 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,887Fullofit
Ziggy was climbing as fast and as high as his Albatros would allow him. He still had the unlit cigar Wolff gave him in the Kasino clenched between his teeth. There was much confusion where the enemy was coming from and the individual airplanes scattered all around the aerodrome to cover all directions. As Ziggy flew on south of the airfield he noticed some movement and flashing of brightly painted undersides of wings. Dogfight! He quickly turned his Albatros in that direction and as he approached, two of the Jasta machines collided just in front of him almost taking him out as well which would make a perfect Mercedes star pattern out of the falling debris. He barely avoided that collision and chased after the culprit of the mishap. A Pup which thumbed his nose at recently vanquished Fliegers was squirming in front of Ziggy’s gunsights. Soon two more German kites arrived on the scene and joined the fight. Zygmunt kept his distance to avoid another crash, which was a strong possibility with all the aeroplanes in the air. He then bided his time and picked the right moment to strike. The Pup took incredible amount of punishment before going down, but in the end he did go down to Ziggy’s fire.
After the fight it was time to return home. Hahn turned back and prepared to enter the landing pattern, but a burst of Flak caught his attention near the No-Man’s Land. He looked closer to see another Pup turning towards him. Ziggy was about to enter another dogfight. He was ready. He aimed the nose of his Albatros at his opponent and squeezed the triggers for a quick burst and a quick pull up to avoid a head on collision. He then reversed to see the Englander do the same. Another burst into the belly of the Sopwith and another reverse. The pup was game for another head on attack, but Ziggy was too low for it to work properly. As the Britisher passed overhead, Zygmunt looped his mount and found the Pup at the end of it. He fired another two quick bursts then his D.III was below his enemy again. The two pilots traded acrobatic maneuvers to keep out of other’s gun range. The British pilot was good. Better than Ziggy and always ended up behind the V-Strutter, but thankfully out of position. Let’s face it, the Pup is a more agile fighter, yet Ziggy managed to stay out of harm’s way. Another loop and the Pup disappeared from sight. Hahn’s head turned in all directions, scanning for the adversary, but he simply vanished. By the time he noticed him again, the Pup was well over the frontlines, leaving the young German to his own devices. Ziggy was certain that it would take the Pup pilot only a few more turns to either shoot him down or make him crash into the ground below. They ended their duel very low. Now Zygmunt turned his plane around towards the aerodrome and began to climb.
It didn’t take too long for him to spot another battle raging at high level, involving a train of Albatosen, a few Pups and copious amounts of Flak coming from the battery stationed near the observation balloon. He saw two shapes separate from the furball and dive for the deck. It looked like an Albatros was in trouble with a Pup following closely behind. Zygmunt immediately turned his plane toward the fight, but could only observe as he was lower than the two combatants. When they dropped lower, Ziggy took the opportunity to fire a few shots at the Englander. This seemed to distract him and gave a chance for the Albatros to escape. It was Träger, and Ziggy regretted getting involved right away. The Schweinhund didn’t deserve rescuing after stealing Zygmunt’s claim earlier in the month. The young pilot struggled to stay behind his target, but fired enough shots to make the Pup’s engine cease. This made the German pilot’s job more difficult since the heavy Albatros couldn’t keep up with the slowly gliding Sopwith. Then Träger showed up and moved in for the kill. “- Oh no, you don’t” Ziggy was furious the man would steal another one of his kills. The two Germans jockeyed for position to fire the last burst, but in the end it was unclear who would claim the enemy scout. Meanwhile, the stricken Pup settled gently on the grassy field, apparently unharmed. Ziggy was livid. Träger had to pay! But his revenge had to wait, there was another Pup approaching, being closely followed by an Albatros. As before Zygmunt’s plane was positioned below the battle and he had to wait for the fight to come down to his level. Once he joined the melee, the other V-Strutter disappeared, apparently content with his contribution to this skirmish, leaving Ziggy one-on-one with the Pup. This suited Zygmunt just fine. Collision with friendly aeroplanes was now one less thing he had to worry about. The Pup was now in retreat. Hahn had to pursue the British plane deep into No-Man’s Land before finally wounding or killing the pilot and watching the plane nose down and crash into the mud below.
Settling in The Diary of Flight Sub-Lieutenant Reginald Capell, No. 9 Squadron, R.N.A.S.
24 June The journey from home to No 9 Naval Squadron only took two weeks, but it felt like an eternity. A mix up in Dunkirk that almost sent me back to London, a case of mistaken identity when I was briefly accused of being an AWOL sailor posing an officer while at St. Pol sur Mer (who the poor chap really was I don't know). I was told that I would be transporting a Sopwith Tripe south to Flez-Cuzy where No 9 was located gave me a moment of celebration. I was beyond elated to hear that I would be flying and fighting in one of the best pieces of machinery we had to offer. The night prior to leaving I received notice that I wouldn't be flying it, and that I would be taking a train to Amiens and would finish the trip via the road. This ended up being multiple trains, multiple stops, many cigarettes, and all of my patience. I arrived In Amiens on the night of the 23rd and remained at the station. Prior to sunrise on the 24th, a lorry was identified to take me to Flez-Cuzy and I was on my way.
The young Army Corporal didn't say much. He drove fast and had no patience for those in the way on the road. We passed camps of British infantry, hospitals, lines of troops marching in both directions. I thought we may have gone in the wrong direction as blue uniforms started to blend in with the khaki. How far south were we going exactly? I offered the Corporal a cigarette and he relaxed a bit and became a better road companion, tellinme he had been transporting wounded and replacement pilots for both the RFC and RNAS in the area. Told me I would be rather pleased with the arrangement in Flez.
It was a little after 0900 when we the aerodrome came into view. It wasn't as large as the ones I had seen up north in Flanders, but it wasn't small. I could see a few RFC FE's lined up and a few odd looking ones (later identified as RFC DH5's). As we round the final curve I saw it: Tripes! I was going to a unit with Tripes. I could have danced in my seat, but I held myself back for the Corporal's sake. The lorry pulled up and stopped in front of a small hut with the White Ensign flying over it. I hopped off and grabbed my bag. The lorry was speeding off before I had a chance to even turn to the Corporal to say anything. I admired the few of the field one last time before I mustered the courage to enter.
Inside, a Chief Petty Officer met me and asked if he could help me. I told him who I was and he pointed to two gentlemen in the back room. "Report to them, Sir. They'll get you situated." I walked over and saluted. They peered up from their maps. One introduced himself as Flight Commander Mott, who was acting Squadron Commander until the real CO returned from Dunkirk. I was questioned about my training, experience, history, etc. They seemed please to hear I had Pup experience. I was told the other gentleman, Flight Commander Pierce, was in charge of B-flight and needed a replacement. To my disappointment, I was informed I would continue to fly Pup's for the time being. The squadron had been fitted with Tripes but all new pilots fresh from training would fly Pup's until a later point determined otherwise. It wasn't the time to argue, although I wanted to. Pierce told me to follow him and he'd show me around. He had one of the orderlies take my gear while I was shown the B-flight hanger. Along the walk I was informed the squadron shares the aerodrome with two RFC squadrons: 22 and 24. Each has their own mess so we won't have to deal with them often. I met the Air Mechanic's that would be working on my Pup. It wasn't anything fancy, but it would do. Pierce informed me that I would be going up for a quick familiarization flight later in the afternoon. For now, he wanted me to settle into my berth and to grab a bite at the mess.
My berth was a small room that would be shared by two of us. Flight Sub-lieutenant Morley would be my berth-mate. We exchanged a few words and he walked me to the mess.
Around 13:45, Pierce found me and told me he and Morley would take me up for a quick flight around the area to get the sights. Morley was also flying a Pup, but Pierce's Tripe was a beauty. 12 miles from the line, once airborne you could see clearly over. It was a struggle to keep up with Pierce. The Tripe seemed to gain altitude without any issues as Morley and myself appeared to be crawling. Pierce took us north to Havrincourt Wood, with Cambrai clear in our sights over on the Hun's side to the East. We then flew safely on our side down towards the Oise River. This was to be our AO. The area didn't really have any crazy landmarks to throw us off. A perfect line of balloons marked where I could follow north or south if I needed to get back.
That night, after dinner, I was informed that I would be up early for a show if needed. B-flight would be up if word came in of any Hun two-seater over or beyond our lines. I was impressed how Morley appeared to be snoring within seconds of touching his pillow. I, on the other hand, stared at the ceiling forever. My watched show 0100 before I felt my eyelids grow heavy.
25 June The CPO from the orderly room came in to shake me awake around 0330. I felt like I had only blinked for sleep. I was up and dressed quick and headed towards the B-flight hangar. I stood there by myself forever before other pilots and mechanics showed up. That's when Pierce told me that they hit the mess up first for tea and a quick bite before briefing. They took mercy on me and let me go grab something after the briefing. We were to stand by until called to go up and hopefully catch the Hun before they head back over to their side of the lines. We didn't get an alert until 0455, in which we were airborne at 0500. We were to go to the lines just north of St. Quentin. The flight was six in total, and I was the lonely Pup. Gaining altitude and keeping formation proved a harder task that the day prior. Luckily Pierce and the other pilots took pity on me and slowed down. We hit the front line just above the clouds at 8000 feet. A single Hun two-seater was spotted and we headed in its direction. Within seconds, Pierce rocked his wings and turned sharp to his right. Hun V-strutters were coming in from the South. My first time over the lines and we were going to fight.
It lasted seconds. The Tripes went every which way and the Huns did as well. I was by myself. I couldn't see anyone. My heart sank and I felt like a sitting duck. I performed circles for a while looking every which way, and was relieved to find Boutillier appear from behind a cloud heading in my direction. I settled in on his left and he gave me the signal to RTB, which we did. We returned back and it was long before the rest of the flight returned. They all ran to HQ and settled their claims. Pierce found me and sternly ordered me to the hangar. He informed me of how scraps work and how I should react. He wasn't happy to find me sitting alone over the lines as Boutillier found me. I was instructed to RTB if I ever find myself unable to identify any friendly aircraft from our flight. He reminded me that a Pup alone stand no chance. I apologized and said it wouldn't happen again.
Shortly after lunch we received another alert, this time to the SouthEast, East of Tergnier. Pierce led myself and two others (Whealy and Pinder) to intercept. It was the same setup: a single Hun two-seater low with cover high above. We turned towards the Albatri and engaged. This time, I did better and was able to keep awareness of everyone's location. One Albatros attempted to get on my tail, but I learned that while the Pup is much slower, it turn faster. Hard right rudder saved me from soiling my pants. After a few turns I gained the advantage and unloaded on the Hun. He began to leak something, but he dove East and in a hurry. Once back home, Whealy said that he watched it go over the lines and that it probably didn't crash. I couldn't claim it. Pierce seemed pleased with my performance as he didn't wish to speak to me alone.
I attempted to get to know some of fellow squadron mates but many seemed a bit distant. Morley chatted a bit, we talked about London and Eton (he graduated two years before me). A few drinks were had and I sent out a letter to father and mother to let them know where to reach me.
26 June That morning, around 0545, A and B flights both took off on a patrol behind the lines near Longchamps. After correctly getting breakfast first and then meeting at the hanger, the five of us were airborne along with four from A flight. We gained altitude (my poor Pup dragging the entire way) and hit the lines at 13,000 feet. Pierce rocked his wings and pointed upward. I didn't see anything. Everyone continued forward so I assumed that we were just carrying on. Suddenly, tracers were everywhere and the flight turned in every direction. The nine of us mixed with the eleven V-strutters and it was every man for themselves. I fired whenever a Hun crossed my sights. It didn't last long, and again I found myself alone with Boutillier again. We had dropped to 8,000 feet. WE circled the lines together for a bit but didn't see anyone else from the flight. Again, he gave the signal to RTB. We did and found the rest of our flight already there. Most of the Tripes would holed up pretty good. I was the only one with a mark. No one seemed impressed or thrilled with that.
After lunch, shortly before 1400, Pierce grabby myself and a few others sitting in the mess for an impromptu intercept. Multiple DFW's were seen up near Havrincourt Wood. We were airborne within minutes and pushing our way north. Pierce, Banbury and myself continued north while Mott, Whealy and Pinder turned East towards Cambrai. After twenty minutes, Pierce rocked his wings and pointed down. We pushed our noses down and began to drop at an angle I wasn't quite comfortable with. The wires of my Pup began to scream and shake. The Tripes were going much faster in the drop than I was. I was beginning to think this would be it. They opened fire and I did as well. I couldn't make out what we were firing at. We leveled off and I could see it: a single DFW heading Southeast. The three of us turned around it and came at it head on. I was the last in the three man formation, and as we charged head on, I watched as my tracers hit and the entire craft began to smoke. It turned nose down and through the clouds. I got one! We returned to base where I learned that neither Pierce or Banbury noticed it, but I still put in the claim. Pierce told me, if true, then it was a very lucky shot and that I should take pride in that level of marksmanship.
Pierce and I settled into the corner of the mess after dinner, where I picked his brain about keeping formation in the Pup and how to keep with the Tripes. He apologized that it would be an adjustment and that the flight would just have to work together until everyone has the same crate and are on equal footing. For now, the Tripes weren't coming down for the newer pilots. He did share that Mott was notified that many of the RNAS squadrons would be refitted with the new Sopwith that had been tested. When that would be he didn't quite know, but that it was a promising sign that the rumour mill was extra active lately. He told me to remain patient and to keep asking questions. It wasn't too long after this discussion that Mott arrived and informed me that my claim had been denied. No one on the ground had seen the DFW go down. I must have looked upset as both he and Pierce told me not to worry about it. A lot of "sure things" go without being confirmed. I was informed that I would be up with B-flight early the next morning. With this, I decided to attempt to get some sleep. 27 June Pierce led B-flight at 0445 on a patrol behind the lines southeast of Cambrai. We flew at 15,000 feet and the view was breathtaking. The six of us patrolled our route without encountering and Hun scouts. We saw a few two-seaters, but they all dove full-speed eastward whenever they saw us. Pierce took us low on the return home and I enjoyed my personal tour of the French countryside, seeing farmers doing their jobs as if there wasn't a war going on. Camps of British troops waved to us, as did children at houses. I could have easily been distracted with the joys of the bird's point of view. This was why I joined.
1320 called for a repeat to the same area. HQ received word of more Hun two-seaters patrolling the area. Mott led the flight and we followed the same path, but as we hit the lines at 12,000, a loud "CLANK" shook my Pup violently and began to smoke. Oil was leaking from somewhere and filling the cockpit. I cut the engine immediately and fell behind the formation. I could only hope someone saw me as I turned West. The quiet descent was unsettling. I could hear the shells beneath me. I couldn't hear any other engine noise. I saw a long road heading southwest and slide-slipped my way down. I ended up on the road North East of Lechelle near one of our observation balloon's. The gentlemen there were nice enough to call in to HQ my location and treated me to some tea, and a #%&*$# of brandy, while I waited. It was a few hours later the lorry arrived and a few air mechanics arrived. B-flight's Petty Officer Mechanic was with them and asked me many questions, each answer received with a grunt and disbelief. Clearly whatever I said wasn't the right answer or what he wanted to hear. Once everything was settled, I bit farewell to the balloon fellows and head back to Flez-Cuzy. We arrived just after dark and Pierce was glad to see I was alright. Mott had seen my malady and watched me turn West. They thought I was a goner but were relieved to find out that the squadron had been contacted by the time they arrived. The crews spent the entire night working on the Pup. I should have insisted that, if it wasn't much of an issue, I could just fly a Tripe the next day, but this wasn't the place for that. Mott informed me I would be flying with him the morning and to wash up.
Around 2345 we heard sirens and all rushed outside. We could hear the engines of Hun bombers and watched as the rail depot to the east lit up. We smoked and watch the show, hoping no one was injured. The sky lit up and it wasn't long before it returned to silence. An eerie experience to somewhat enjoy.
28 June Mott led us at 0545 on an escort mission. Six of us accompanied three RFC RE8's over the lines southeast of Havrincourt Wood. I was relieved that we were escorting slow recon crates as I felt like we were going at a comfortable speed for my Pup. We didn't run into any EA and there were no issues. I was able to catch a quick nap before lunch.
Pierce led four of us around 1430 behind the lines between Cambrai and Escaufort. We met a flight of v-strutters on the other side. I found myself on the tail of one with a black tail and white and black strips along the body. I pressed down and fired into him, but after a short burst it stopped. A major jam occurred and I felt my body go cold. I was a sitting duck. The Hun dove East at a fast rate. I leveled and messed with the jam. Luckily Pinder and Simpson were back with me and the jam was rectified. We met back with Pierce and continued our patrol. We returned back to base where I inspected both the Vickers and ammo. The ammo was loaded right, and I had a word the PO.He apologized and said it wouldn't happen again.
After dinner, I pulled out the bottle of scotch I had grabbed from my father's study before leaving, in hopes that this might be the ice breaker with the fellow pilots. Morley, Pinder, Simpson, and Whealy all perked up and joined me. It was the first time any had said more than three sentences to me. It has been an adjustment to be treated like the new guy, some haven't even made eye contact. I feel that I have a lot to learn. Morley has insisted not to take it personal, that this is just how it is and that with time people will open up. I don't doubt that he's right, but for now, it's unsettling to be reading alone while other's talk. Perhaps a few more missions and things will even out.
Last edited by AceMedic88; 06/28/2007:08 PM.
I got fired as the door man at a sperm bank. Apparently it's in poor taste to tell leaving customers "Thanks for coming."
Former U.S. Army Medic - SGT.
#4527806 - 06/28/2007:45 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Arrived as a replacement last night and posted for flight with Dawn Patrol. Feels funny being a yank from N.Y. with a British Sqn, but that's the Breaks. The U.S. is supposed tp be entering the war ,but no information. Maybe 1918 ?. Dawn: Off as a wingman to the X.O. briefed to stay tight and High. Sqn Rule : No turning fights with the Boche. I did get to fire a few long range shots as we fell in with some e/a's.. No claims by the Sgn ,but no one shot down either,
AF Security flight: No contact,but had a Spad go into the Fence when landing, The medics said the pilot broke his face.
My flight Leader said its ok to paint Ur Kite, but go find the Paint.
#4527816 - 06/28/2010:04 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
While Lt. Harris has been in the hospital he has been working on a model ship. Since the weather is nice there is lots of fishing to do also. That is what is taking up most of his time. Oh! Wait! That’s my real life! Got a bit befuddled.
Ace, ripping story hoss! It seems Capell is settling in very well, straight to the grinder.
Carrick, doesn’t take you long to get back in the saddle.
Fullofit, great videos. Ziggy will be the equivalent of Toby for the Huns.
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!
#4527863 - 06/29/2010:25 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: May 2012 Posts: 4,040RAF_Louvert
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
MFair - Most relieved to see that Harris survived that last scrape, I was afraid he’d gone west on us. And a week off is not so bad, eh. As for getting a bit befuddled, I’m right there with ya my friend.
Carrick - Shelby gone, and claimed by ground fire? Of all the bad luck. Here’s hoping your new Yank Fido can survive a while longer than his predecessor.
AceMedic88 - A fine bit of catching up on Capell. And a bottle of scotch is always a safe bet as an ice breaker in a flying outfit.
Fullofit - Ziggy has been a busy fellow. What’s he doing though saving that kill-stealer Träger, let the beggar fend for himself. Now to those cigars, your man should save them and sell them on the black market, they’d bring in some folding money I’m sure. Excellent videos as always.
Epower - A wonderful bit of catching-up on your Oliver, and beautiful screenshots to help tell the story. That one with the red-nosed Alb falling is brilliant, could be a painting. Also, nice touch adding the old AAR.
Raine - Edmund is back from Ghent and already bored. Flying those Gothas he’s better off bored than risking the enemy scouts, he is right to be concerned about the first time they have to go up against them. Here’s hoping his transfer to single-seaters comes through before then. Love that old photo by the way, saved it to my collection.
It’s been a busy past few days here for me, so it was most enjoyable right now to be able to sit and catch up on all your stories. My fellow Freddy is tripping along nicely but still a bit behind, (about right for him), however I will get in a few more sorties today and hopefully have him up to date soon. No encounters yet with the Hun so his Bristol is still yet unproven in a scrape.
#4527916 - 06/29/2003:48 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: May 2012 Posts: 4,040RAF_Louvert
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
28 June 1917 11 Squadron R.F.C. La Bellevue, France
Six days of beautiful summer weather had seen the Bristols of 11 Squadron out on numerous sorties along the frontlines from Lens to Cambrai. The King’s airmen were itching for a chance to get their new mounts in a few go-rounds with the air Hun and see how they would perform. It had been determined by the squadron’s veteran pilots and observers that, given the mount’s outstanding performance and capabilities, it should be flown more as a scout in combat than as a B/R bus. Major MacLean, being a forward-thinking CO, and trusting in the opinion of his seasoned fliers, gave his blessings and instructed all teams to switch to these tactics and see how effective they might be. Proving said tactics had been a bit tricky for the last week due to a distinct lack of willing Boche participants.
‘A’ Flight had a spot of action on the 23rd when Lieutenants McKeever and Duncan fired on a lone Albatros scout but were unable to bring it down as it was well above them and beat a hasty retreat. ‘C’ Flight had a similar experience on the 24th with a pair of V-strutters that also had the height advantage and refused to come down and play despite being taunted by two of the teams. It wasn’t until the 26th that the Bristols were able to show their true colors when crews from both ‘A’ and ‘C’ flights tangled with a total of ten Albatros scouts on two separate outings, destroying four of the enemy planes and sending two others down out of control. Sadly, the squadron did lose a man that day when 2nd Lt. P C Ross was wounded in battle, having sent off two of his attackers in the process. He died from his wounds shortly after landing his own mount and saving the life of his G/O. He was given a simple hero’s burial in the camp cemetery the following morning.
During this same period ‘B’ Flight had no encounters with the Hun at all, although 2nd Lt. Abbott did spot a trio of Albs well over the lines on the 25th but his flight leader did not give chase. However, today’s first outing was about to end ‘B’ Flight’s drought, though in a fairly odd way. Shortly after mid-morning Lieutenant MacAndrew and his G/O Lieutenant Scott led the teams of West and Edwin and Abbott and Yale on a line patrol south of Havrincourt Wood. The three Bristols were thrumming along beautifully as they ran their assigned route, turning to the southeast at Old Mossy Face and following the lines from there down several miles, then back up to the woods. Frederick was doing a fine job of holding his position off his flight leader's portside, all the while looking around and up and down as Thomas had instructed him to do. "Head on a swivel Freddy, all the time head on a swivel." This was his twenty-first sortie since joining the squadron a fortnight ago and he was starting to feel like an old hand.
After making a long, lazy circle over Havrincourt MacAndrew signaled engine trouble and dropped out, heading down towards Bapaume to land. Lieutenant West took over as flight leader and continued on briefly before his mount also took ill. 2nd Lt. Frederick Abbott and Lt. Thomas Yale watched as their remaining teammates glided off, leaving them to fend for themselves high in the empty blue. The seasoned G/O thought it prudent that he and his charge return to camp rather than run the risk of encountering a swarm of Hun scouts on their own, and instructed Frederick to turn their bus back towards La Bellevue. As young Abbott brought the nose of the Bristol around to the northwest he spotted a pair of Boche B/R planes, far off but directly in front of them. He excitedly directed Yale’s attention to the specks in the sky and the duo readied their guns. Frederick approached cautiously, having been told both during training and since joining the squadron to avoid giving the enemy gunners a clear shot. And being one who tended to do what he was told, he proceeded to keep the bulk of the hostile planes between the Hun G/Os and himself, thus blocking their shots, while at the same time allowing Thomas an open field of fire. For the first pass young Abbott carved in front of and below the Boche pair while Yale placed solid volleys from his twin Lewis guns directly into the front of both planes. The Huns stuck together and attempted to fire on their solo attacker, but took no evasive action. Frederick then came up from behind and below and managed a few shots with his Vickers before having to break off and drop beneath the enemy to avoid their hate. With the Bristol’s superior speed and maneuverability he was quickly ahead of and below the pair again, giving Thomas another fine firing solution. Still the enemy brace maintained their formation. Abbott then came back around once more, lined up on the trailing Hun, and let loose with the Vickers from some considerable range, continuing short bursts as he closed. The enemy gunners had just begun returning fire when suddenly the engine of the Bristol started coughing and sputtering. Abbott quickly throttled down and turned away, giving Yale one last chance with the Lewis guns, and as Frederick aimed their bus towards the field at Bapaume the King’s pair watched with great satisfaction, and some surprise, as the trailing Hun bus rolled over and fell from the sky, crashing barely a mile from the aerodrome they were now gliding down towards.
After landing and taxing up to one of the hangars, young Abbott couldn’t get out from his office fast enough and nearly took a header scrambling down from the Bristol, but managed to catch himself at the last second and avoid the pratfall.
“We got one of the rotters, Thomas, did you see? Gave them a sound thrashing we did! By Jove, first blood for me and my fine lady here!” Frederick flashed his toothy smile as he patted the side of the Bristol, his excitement unbridled.
“I certainly did see Freddy, and a fine job it was too!” Thomas replied in a hearty voice. “You gave me some outstanding shots up there and got in some of your own. I don’t believe they even landed a hit on us – smart flying, lad, well done!”
2nd Lt. Abbott still grinning from ear to ear, asked the Ack Emmas who’d gathered around, to have a look at the Bristol and see what the issue was with the engine. And moments later he and Lt. Yale were joined by the other two teams of ‘B’ Flight who’d landed ahead of them at the field and had watched the aerial battle play out over their heads. After a round of introductions with the CO of the camp, followed by a round of congratulations on bringing down one of the Boche intruders, a tender was made available and everyone went over to inspect the wreck. It was easy to find as a dark column of smoke drifted up from the crash site to mark the spot. Upon arrival it was immediately evident that both the pilot and G/O were dead, each having been thrown clear of the craft on impact. After going through their pockets and securing the found contents tarps were placed over the bodies, then it was on to inspect the smoldering plane. It turned out to be a DFW C-series, or what was left of it at least. The engine compartment and cockpits were already burned out, however the wings and tail feather were still recognizable. And Frederick was able to salvage one of the prop blades that had snapped off on initial impact some fifteen yards back from the wreck. “Spiffing! Should be able to get two canes from this, one for each of us Thomas old scout”, he proclaimed, wiping the dirt and grass from his prize and holding it above his head. To say the young man was chuffed would be putting it most mildly.
(to be continued)
For the first pass young Abbott carved in front of and below the Boche pair while Yale placed solid volleys from his twin Lewis guns.
Frederick then came up from behind and below and managed a few shots with his Vickers before having to break off.
With the Bristol’s superior speed and maneuverability he was quickly ahead of and below the pair again, giving Thomas another fine firing solution.
Abbott then came back around once more, lined up on the trailing Hun, and let loose with the Vickers from some considerable range.
The King’s pair watched with great satisfaction, and some surprise, as the trailing Hun bus rolled over and fell from the sky.
It was easy to find the downed Boche as a dark column of smoke drifted up from the crash site to mark the spot.
#4527932 - 06/29/2006:46 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)