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#4453047 - 12/12/18 07:49 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

10 Dec 1915.

I Took the Bus up to 5000ft and flew around for an 1 1/2 hrs. While waiting my turn for the Dead Stick Landings, We all watched as Jumbo made his approach and went straight into the ground. Why ? Too Fast ? No up elevators ? All flights Cancelled.

Attached Files Aeiral_Warfare_of_WW1 (37).jpg
#4453052 - 12/12/18 08:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nice video Fullofit. Kudos on the dead stick landings and aerobatics

Carrick, Sorry you missed your turn at the controls. Especially as it was at the expense of Jumbo.

Mark A. Jericho
England
December 1915

Jericho sat in front of his instructor, Capt. Crittenden, as Crittenden looked over his file.

"It seems you took a very queer route to end up in the RAF Lieutenant. One year at university, a few years as a..." He paused for a moment. "Cowhand" he asked more than stated.

"Yes Sir" replied Jericho. "I was a top hand at the Bar T ranch near San Antonio Texas."

Captain Crittenden went on, "So you got your ticket to fly at Stinson Aviation in San Antonio then to Canada." Another pause. "What took you to Canada?"

"Circumstances Sir." replied Jericho.

Captain Crittenden eyed Jericho for moment and stood up looking out the window. "Thomas says you are a natural pilot Lieutenant." Turning back toward Jericho with a stern look he added. "He also said you are a bit brash."

Jericho started to speak but Captain Crittenden raised his had which silenced him immediately. "Lieutenant, I have had the pleasure of serving with some very good pilots in France. I dare say some much better than yourself" He stood for a moment and let the words sink in before adding, "and most of them are dead. It takes a lot more than a good hand at the controls to survive over the front. I hope you will learn that or you too will be joining them."

"Yes Sir!" replied Jericho. Jericho was pretty good at sizing someone up and he instinctively knew to listen to everything he had to say. Captain Crittenden was not the sort to pee on your leg and tell you it was raining.

"I think its time to see how you do with aerobatics" continued Capt. Crittenden. "I will see you on the field in half an hour."

"Yes Sir" Jericho replied as he saluted and turned to leave.

"Lieutenant!" the captained called after Jericho.

"Yes Sir?" Jericho answered.

"Anything I tell you will not be subjective. Is that clear?"

"Yes Sir." Jericho replied with a salute.

Walking back to get his kit Jericho went over the meeting in his head. He liked Captain Crittenden. He demanded respect and Jericho could tell he deserved it. Nothing fancy or false about this character, he was the genuine article.


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!
#4453062 - 12/12/18 11:35 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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2nd Lt Aleck A. MacKinlay

December 12, 1915

I am finally back on my feet after several days being down with some sort of cold or flu; terrible chills and a hacking cough. Had two days of confusion running around London trying to figure out my transport to France and confirming the details of my deployment. It seems the army is quite good at moving large groups of men to the front, but getting a single replacement pilot to his assigned post throws the whole system into a tizzie. Finagling that two weeks on leave apparently bunged things up a bit. I would have been wiser to just stay at No.5 Training and transfer out with the other graduate officer-pilots. Too clever for my own good!

Regardless, after seeing just about every clerk in the War Office and Quartermaster Generals offices in Whitehall I am on now my way. I had some notion that I would be ferrying a replacement aircraft across the channel right to my destination, but the reality is much less romantic or straightforward. I am to be shipped along like so much human-cattle by train to the Dover Marine Station, and any 'ferrying' I do from there will be on an actual ferry across the channel. Hoping for decent accommodations in Dover tonight ... have seen too many faces today and need some private time to settle myself.

#4453065 - 12/13/18 12:13 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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13 Dec., Fldwbl Karl Arnt Lofthoven reporting. I have completed 5 training flights in the Aviatik BII. However, I have several issues with it that may prove insurmountable. Foremost is that it requires over half forward control lever to just maintain level flight! If I relax my hand (and indeed whole arm) even the slightest, the tail immediately drops, the nose goes up, and the plane goes into a stall. I managed only briefly to look back at the tail and confirmed that there is considerable negative deflection on the elevators, so it's not just a control stick/cable problem. Also, I was afforded the opportunity to test a captured British Be2, and found able to be hands-off the stick completely, something that would be fatal in my craft. I gather that the rest of you are Entente pilots (!), but perhaps one of you has at some time tested an Aviatik and can confirm or deny my observations? I find it too incredible to believe that such unstable behavior would be allowed on a production craft. Maybe my tailplane was misaligned during construction?

Unfortunately, what this leads to is that I can only fly this beast for an hour tops before my arm is too fatigued, as well as being able to only fly in clear, daylight skies, as I need a horizon for reference if the nose starts to creep up. Obviously these are restrictions not suitable for a front-line unit. Does anyone know perhaps of a field mod that KoFL issued that my mechanic should be aware of?

Also, the captured RAF plane had a timepiece, altitude meter,and an airspeed meter, all of which should be on every German plane. Why aren't they? Of course we're better fliers that the British (or anyone else) and don't explicitly need these gauges, but they sure would be operationally quite useful.


(edit: I misspelled my own name!)

Last edited by loftyc; 12/13/18 12:15 AM.
#4453076 - 12/13/18 02:06 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Loftyc,

Perhaps you're flying the machine without Fat Franz in the front seat????

#4453078 - 12/13/18 03:01 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Hey all,

Got my first entry here. Knocked it out on my break at work (hence written by hand, rather than typed), and scanned it when I got home just now. I'll be transcribing it later tonight, but wanted to get this up and out there pronto.

[Linked Image]


[Linked Image]

Anyway, for those of you who can't read my handwriting (presumably all of you, haha), my pilot's name is Michael Atherton Thorne, formerly an observer in No. 1 Sqn, RFC, and before that a writer for the only newspaper in the town of Cochrane, Alberta (population 300 people, 1 quarry, 1 sawmill, and 4 brick plants).

#4453093 - 12/13/18 07:19 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Talk about going above and beyond, just reading that gave my hand sympathy cramp Mortuus.


Let's pretend I got the BWOC badge to embed here.

Wenn ihr sieg im deine Kampf selbst gegen, wirst stark wie Stahl sein.
#4453096 - 12/13/18 08:34 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: loftyc]  
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Originally Posted by loftyc
13 Dec., Fldwbl Karl Arnt Lofthoven reporting. I have completed 5 training flights in the Aviatik BII. However, I have several issues with it that may prove insurmountable. Foremost is that it requires over half forward control lever to just maintain level flight! If I relax my hand (and indeed whole arm) even the slightest, the tail immediately drops, the nose goes up, and the plane goes into a stall. I managed only briefly to look back at the tail and confirmed that there is considerable negative deflection on the elevators, so it's not just a control stick/cable problem. Also, I was afforded the opportunity to test a captured British Be2, and found able to be hands-off the stick completely, something that would be fatal in my craft. I gather that the rest of you are Entente pilots (!), but perhaps one of you has at some time tested an Aviatik and can confirm or deny my observations? I find it too incredible to believe that such unstable behavior would be allowed on a production craft. Maybe my tailplane was misaligned during construction?

Unfortunately, what this leads to is that I can only fly this beast for an hour tops before my arm is too fatigued, as well as being able to only fly in clear, daylight skies, as I need a horizon for reference if the nose starts to creep up. Obviously these are restrictions not suitable for a front-line unit. Does anyone know perhaps of a field mod that KoFL issued that my mechanic should be aware of?

Also, the captured RAF plane had a timepiece, altitude meter,and an airspeed meter, all of which should be on every German plane. Why aren't they? Of course we're better fliers that the British (or anyone else) and don't explicitly need these gauges, but they sure would be operationally quite useful.


(edit: I misspelled my own name!)


Aleck once had a dream were he flew over 30 missions in an Aviatik BII. Weird right? ... that a Scottish boy would have such an odd dream.
Anyway, in the dream he had to fly the plane with the stick well forward just to stay level. Being an awesome dream-pilot he of course could simply use his senses (eyes and ears) to judge altitude and airspeed. smile

#4453133 - 12/13/18 05:56 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

11 Dec

Services were held for Jumbo with full honors. I guess that I will ne ver see the 2 pounds and a 1/2 penny he owed me.

12 Dec: I did my 2 Dead Stick landings to day. The 1st Spot on,but the second ? I made a good approach floating down like a leaf from a tree then touch down and run out. The a/c ran out of air field came to a shuttering stop then became bogged down in the soft ground. A little damage to the prop and a landing wheel.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-12-13 09-23-25-58.jpg
#4453209 - 12/14/18 09:47 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Sgt. Graham A. Campbell.
Hounslow Heath Aerodrome
December 14th, 1915.


On the morning of the 13th, we were all up bright and early, excited at the prospect of the day's activities. For the pilots on the roster, a day of jubilant flying! We were getting along well in our training, and were now spending more time in the air. For the pilots not on the roster, London awaited! Andrews, to reward our progress, had begrudgingly allowed non-rostered pilots to continue their decadent day-trips into the Capital. Hugo Lane and Jacky-Boy had set out shortly after our breakfast (the usual Ham and Eggs - the delicacy of Hounslow) in a flat-bed truck to undergo one of their favourite past-times, watching the soldiers come to and from Kings' Cross Station. I don't know why they enjoyed this so much, although we are all young, and perhaps it is the remnants of childish make-believe, playing at soldiers in the back yard. By any means, they would not be seen again until the evening.

Freddy Foster, with his trademark confident grin, set out at 10 O'Clock on his next training flight; Andrews had instructed him to take a B.E.2 on an hour-long flight in the direction of his choosing, where he would then land, taxi back around, and make the trip back. I was scheduled to do the same today. Doyle Weston and Teddie Lawson were sharing the second B.E. to make short solos around the Heath, and Albie Chapman, one of the more advanced students, was allowed a 'free flight'. Once he returned, I would then take the bus up and do the same.

As I was idly chatting with Julian Davies, one of the more shy recruits whom I'd not had much contact with, there was a horribly familiar crashing sound, and I turned round to see one of our B.E's crumpled on the ground in flames. Inside was poor old Albie, burning away with the machine. In horror, I realised that, although I was mortified, I was not surprised, nor did I turn away as they pulled Albie's body from the doused wreck. Had death really become so known to me? Of course, later, when the moment had passed, I cracked up and nearly cried out in fear. It all seemed like some sick part of my training - First seeing Webb's near-miss, then the D.H.2's spin, and now Albie, a friend, burnt up in a crash. It felt as if I was being built up, one step after another, towards being nonplussed by death and horror, to view it as an unfortunate matter of fact.

Teddie Lawson, who had been up on the opposite side of the aerodrome, was pale as a sheet when he landed, and could scarcely stay on his feet as he wobbled away from the B.E, clearly in shock. He didn't say a word for the rest of the night, apart from one chilling phrase he uttered as we made for our bunks; "I saw the whole thing". When Freddy tried to soothe him, he reverted into his blank, unresponsive state. I fear he may wash out, as Webb did. Hugo and Jacky-Boy were equally shaken by Albie's sudden and random death, but Freddy pulled us all together and calmed us down. I suppose he had a great many of his friends die in Galipoli, and was attuned to the reality.

This morning, we held a funeral for Albie, in which I was a pallbearer. Even through the solid wood coffin, I could pick up the nauseating smell of burnt skin and bone. For the sake of the fellows, I retained my composure, but once the affair was over with I was violently ill. Andrews saw this, and ordered me grounded for the day. Jacky-Boy is up at the moment, but his bus is very much reserved in its manoeuvres.

Training has become a strange ordeal for me. On the one hand, the camaraderie is wonderful, and the flying itself is exhilarating, but the occasional sudden and violent death, possibly of a friend, hangs over us all. I suppose, in many ways, this is a premonition of what our lives will be like in the war. I must put Albie out of my mind, sad as his passing is, and focus on completing my training, if I am ever to earn my wings.


Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4453261 - 12/14/18 05:51 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Another entry from 2/LT Thorne. Not enough of interest to put in a letter, yet, so just some scribblings in a notebook about some flying and some talks with fellow students (with apologies to Donald Jack for a blatantly stolen joke).
EDIT: The OP mentions training targets at Catterick and Thetford provided by RAF_Louvert; what mod are they in?
[Linked Image]

Last edited by Mortuus; 12/14/18 07:00 PM.
#4453315 - 12/15/18 01:47 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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William Stanley did fly again after lunch. He took an FK3* up and circled around underneath the steel grey clouds at 6000 feet before making a landing that he was quite pleased with. Captain Moller described it as "too steep and too harsh. Keep it up and you shall break the undercarriage."

Dismissed for the day, Stanley left the aerodrome to walk along the main road up to the officers' mess. Every day there were onlookers here; old men, women, men from the factories on Sundays and schoolchildren whenever they could. There had been flying at Doncaster since the first air meeting in 1909, and the people of the town still enjoyed the spectacle.

"You're very brave young man," a lady in an old grey shawl told Stanley as he passed by.
"Thank you madam," the newly fledged pilot replied.
"Them aeroplanes are very dangerous," the lady replied. "Last week a poor soul fell out!"
This gave William reason to pause. "Fell out?"
The woman nodded "Ooh yes. He was very high up. Arms and legs waving. God rest him, the ambulance ran out fast, but he can't have survived that fall."
"How terrible."
"Yes. Every few weeks some poor soul falls out. Very often the aeroplane just keeps on flying away. It's aweful."
Stanley blinked at the woman, "do you often come to watch the flying?"
"Oh yes. It's a modern miracle."


Opposite the main entrance to the racecourse, a large townhouse provided the RFC officers with both a mess and accomodation. It was exceeding richly furnished in the fashion of Edwardian England. Polished wood floors peeked out from under rich Persian rugs. The walls were papered with light coloured textured lincrusta in art nouveau patterns, however it was mostly hidden behind paintings, hunting trophies and sporting prints. This was clearly the house of a sportsman.

Unusually, to Stanley's mind, amongst the foxes and highland stags were posters for the Blue Cross fund. In these the league for the protection of 'Our Dumb Friends,' decried the plight of working horses, especially those serving with the army. There was even a collection box in the mess bar.

[Linked Image]

"It's Lord Lonsdale's house," a greasy haired student pilot explained, "well not his main house. He uses it for the races."
"I thought so," Stanley replied. "There are pictures of him everywhere."
The greasy haired young man blinked. "Do you know him? I'm Barnestaple by the way, how d'you do?"
Stanley shook the proferred hand. "Not personally. I have seen him about, most recently at Windsor just before the war. My name's Stanley. Have you been flying today?"
"Not today. We can't all fly at once. Hopefully tomorrow. Did you go up then?"
"Yes. Just a few circuits to get used to the machines. I say! I have a thirst, is the bar through here. Come along!"

[Linked Image]

There was more flying the next day. Stewart made a cross country flight to the nort east of Doncaster. The confluence of the Trent and the Ouse loomed in the distance before he turned back for home.

After landing Stanley was met by another student pilot.
"Hello what?" The yellow coated man grinned. "You've been up a few times eh?"
"Why yes," Stanley replied, removing his flying gloves.
"Now that you have a handle on the controls, I wonder if you could settle a wager between my friends and I?"
"Oh?" Stanley raised his eyebrows. "What wager is this?"
"We think that no cavalry man can loop a BE2." The pilot rocked on his heels. "Its a skill that it takes an engineer to accomplish."
Stanley scowled. "I say! I was in the Blues you know. I'm as good as any sapper!"
"So you'll do it?" The man wheedled.
"Do what?"
"Loop in a BE. It would have to be over the aerodrome. So that we could see."
Stanley was indignant. "Of course I can loop. Fifty pounds says I can."
Was that a moment of worry on the man's face? "That's a bit rich. However, I think that I can live with the guilt of relieving you of that cash."
"You're on!"

As the man walked back to his friends, Stewart wondered what he had let himself in for.

---------------------------------------------------------

*BE2 really.

The house belongs to Lord Lonsdale, also known as the yellow earl. He was well known in sporting circles and spent most of the family fortune on extravagance.
He was also a rival to the Earl of Derby (William Stanley's father). The two vied to raise more pals' battalions than the other.


Good stories gentlemen. Your handwriting is far clearer than mine, Mortuus. Mine looks like a spider stepped in some ink.


#4453372 - 12/15/18 02:33 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
13-14 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

The Caudron was heading east. The pilot in the cockpit was barely looking for any terrain landmarks anymore to navigate by. He knew where he was going and was confident of reaching his destination without too much trouble. The sky was clear and the sun which was rarely seen this time of year was shining brightly, casting playful reflections and dark shadows inside his cockpit. The autumn leaves on the trees below assaulted his senses with the multitude of hues saturated with brilliant reds, fiery oranges and bright yellows. The roads and train tracks snaked their way on the ground beneath, switching sides from port to starboard and back, as if they were playing hide and seek with the aviateur, who was tracking them. The waters of Marne were shimmering in the distance to the north. Harvested fields and sprawling forests filled the reminder of his vista. Gaston was on his way to Villeneuve-les-Vertus near Epernay as part of his next piloting exercise. Land there and return back, all in one go. The awe inspiring views surrounding his machine would be something he’d enjoy immensely, were it not for the dark plume of smoke his #2 engine was trailing. The trouble started 3/4 of the way to the destination airfield. There was no point turning back now and Gaston decided to fly on. He kept glancing at the ailing engine and giving it the looks as if it were Kaiser himself. He knew he will not hear the end of it when the captain at Le Bourget hears of it. He’ll tear him a new one for sure, but before this unpleasant activity occurs, he will have to get his butt down to earth in one piece and preferably not in flames. The smell of burning oil was noticeable and he was risking the engine catching on fire, but it was either this or getting stranded somewhere in the middle of an empty field with no help in sight. Thankfully the engine stabilized and kept on running albeit with significantly reduced RPMs. He was slowly losing altitude but the aerodrome soon appeared in view and Gaston was able to bring it in. Le Pou was the first person Gaston recognized and it was him who again took care of the Caudron’s sick engine. Once the mechanic had a look, he estimated that the repairs would take a whole day. Broken rings in one of the cylinders were the culprits of this most recent mechanical failure. Gaston braced himself for another phone conversation with his captain.
The next day Gaston was up very early, anxious to be back up in the air and on his way to Le Bourget. He found his Caudron in the hangar being looked over by Le Pou who was scratching the body part that no one should see being scratched. Gaston pretended not to see and instead inquired about the repairs. The mechanic assured him that the engine was now better than new and that he can take off at his leisure. Gaston didn’t waste any time. He thanked Le Pou for his tireless efforts and started his preparations. He was in the air within the hour and flying, by now, down the beaten path toward Paris. As promised, the engine purred like a well-fed kitten and Gaston soon was greeted by the sight of La Ville-Lumière. He could not resist the temptation and took the bus over the city outskirts to get a better look. It was like seeing an old friend. The view of this great metropolis filled Gaston with pride and inspired him with resolve and will to keep it safe from Le Boche. He promptly turned north and came in for the landing. He didn’t care anymore what Le Capitaine had to say about his piloting skills. Gaston has now a new mission. He will be the guardian of the French people. The Sentinel of France.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files Shot12-10-18.jpg

"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."
#4453453 - 12/16/18 03:23 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ajax, ON
15 December, 1915 22:00
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

[Linked Image]

Voscadeaux was sitting in the cockpit of his Caudron with the instruments illuminated by a small lightbulb flickering in tune with the droning of the engines, which were currently spitting small plumes of flame from the exhausts. He could see the waxing moon in front of him and made a mental note to keep it at his back for the duration of the flight to keep himself oriented in the right direction to his destination. He was excited to test his skills in this new environment. He wasn’t sure what to expect with darkness surrounding him on all sides. The Caudron started to roll and was soon in the air with the burning oil drums and the lights from the hangars flashing by and then nothing... Total darkness with the exception of the moon, the instrument panel illumination and the receding lights of the aerodrome. Gaston could not see the ground or even the horizon. He couldn’t even tell if he was flying straight, let alone navigate to a distant aerodrome. The feeling of dread grabbed him by the throat and rammed its tentacles all the way down to the pit of his stomach. The entire body was instantly drenched in cold sweat. He couldn’t see and was afraid to make any adjustments as not to upset the balance of the machine. With each second he was flying further into the depths of hell and further away from the safety of the aerodrome. His only reference now was the position of the moon. Gaston quickly made the decision to turn back. He will not lose his life senselessly. He kicked the rudder and watched the moon slide to the side and end up at his back. Gaston was hoping he was still flying level and was desperately searching for any hint of the airfield he had left just a few minutes ago. He finally noticed faint lights to his port side and carefully approached them. It was the aerodrome! He lined his craft with the glowing row of burning oil drums and flew past them, then made a ginger 180 degrees turn. His nose should now be lined up for final approach and Gaston tried feverishly to recall the locations of every nearby tree. He will need to avoid them without ever seeing them. The glow of the airfield was getting closer. He could not see how close the ground was and had to trust his instruments. Gaston had to force himself to avoid descending too early for the fear of ramming into the high berm ahead of the airfield. He travelled the final distance blindly, praying that his altimeter was properly calibrated and he will not simply smash into the pitch below disintegrating the machine and splattering his brains on the nearest tree. This thought was interrupted by a heavy thud. He was on the ground and the Caudron was groaning in protest to the rough handling. Gaston looked at the clock. His entire “mission” lasted 7 minutes and was a total fiasco. A definite fail. What now? Is he a washout? Will Le Capitaine be just too happy to tell him to go pack his bags? Gaston had no answers.

Attached Files IMG_0999.jpg

"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."
#4453517 - 12/17/18 01:06 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
Catterick AF
Air Training

13 Dec .

Posted for aerobatics at 0910 hrs. The Instructor standing by my a/c said Go up do a few loops side slips then go Higher and do a spin then up again and another. It was not that easy. I did the side slips without a problem. I started loops at 735 Meters pulling out at 200 and 135 Meters. ( The machine protested with loud groans coming from the wings that I thought they would crack ) The motor missed ( carburetor ? ) Last was the spins. The Instructor later said that they looked more like slow corkscrews than spins, but passable.

Attached Files CFS3 2018-12-16 16-37-32-80.jpgCFS3 2018-12-16 16-53-01-59.jpg
#4453677 - 12/18/18 12:54 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Carrick, where is everybody else? Christmas shopping?

16 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

Le Capitaine witnessed the entire event. Gaston’s excuse and then the repeated pleas fell on deaf ears. He was all too happy to dismiss Gaston.
Voscadeaux was to pack his gear and leave first thing in the morning. Gaston didn’t expect anything else from his superior. He didn’t go to sleep that night reflecting on his future.



The sun was up for some time before Gaston realized it. He was sitting on a bench with his kit beside him, waiting for transport to take him back to the train station in Paris.
He was watching someone walking a dog on the airfield. It took him a while before he realized it was a woman. She was wearing the French Army uniform, but no rank was apparent. She came over and asked if he was also waiting for the car to take him to the city. A small consolation, but it looked like Gaston would have a travel companion. Her name was Nicole Girard-Mangin, as they started to talk he learned she was the first female doctor in French Army. Gaston was hugely surprised and fascinated to hear this.
Nicole explained that during the mobilization in 1914 a clerical error occurred and her documents were issued expecting Dr. Gerard Mangin - her ex-husband. Due to the great need for doctors, she was accepted and posted at Bourbonne-les-Bains. Last month she was transferred to the military hospital at Verdun and was flown in just last evening in what she called “the coldest flying machine in the world”. It had to be a Farman. She was now travelling to Paris to personally supervise delivery of the specialized medical equipment that will accompany her back to Verdun hospital.
She, in turn, asked Gaston what brings him to Paris. Reluctantly he recounted his pitiful story, describing in detail his last night’s class and the captain’s reaction and accusations of cowardice. Nicole listened and posed a few questions. She then said she knew a few men with condition described by him and that it never stopped them from becoming pilots. She explained that Gaston was suffering from nyctalopia (night blindness). There was nothing that could be done about his vision, but there was something she could do about the oaf that dismissed him. Gaston could not believe what he was hearing. They went into the offices and Dr. Girard-Mangin had a lengthy discussion with Gaston’s commanding officer. Gaston was back on the flying roster thanks to the good doctor. His captain listened to her diagnosis and reluctantly gave in. Even he knew able pilots were in great demand. He promised Gaston not to let him off the hook this easily and that in place of the night mission, he would have to fly to the front and remain over NML for 1 hour! He called it the reconnaissance exercise. That is after he passes his bombing accuracy tests. With glee in his eyes and a maniacal chuckle he dismissed Gaston, who was still trying to figure out what to make of all of this and who IS this woman?
The car taking Nicole to Paris was idling near the offices. She was sitting in the cab while Gaston was shaking her hand in gratitude and to wish her well on her way. She squeezed his hand and said to look her up if he’s ever in Verdun. The car drove off leaving in its wake one large dust cloud and one lucky student-pilot. He kept on waving goodbye until the car disappeared from view. The most difficult exercise was still ahead of him.

[Linked Image]
Dr. Nicole Girard-Mangin and her dog Dun.

Attached Files nicole-dun.jpg

"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."
#4453698 - 12/18/18 04:27 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jul 2014
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Raine Online content
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Raine  Online Content
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I’ve been on the road with work and haven’t had much stick time the past two weeks, and after tomorrow I have a house full of kids and grandkids for two more weeks, so I’ll have to make up an excuse for my pilot. I’ll fly some catch-up missions, but I fear he will be late getting to France.

MFair, Good Jericho story. We’ll be seeing you in the new year in France! 77_Scout, hope Aleck has a good voyage and journey to St-Omer. Fullofit, that was a great vignette with Dr. Girard-Mangin. You’ll have to remind Gaston that he’s married, but I’m not 100% sure it will make a difference. Maeran, terrific opening to the saga of Stanley, but then you’ve always excelled at this stuff! Mortuus, I am enjoying the beginning – especially since I found my battered copy of “Three Cheers for Me” by Donald Jack. Keep up the good work. Carrick, I’m glad you’ve been keeping the thread occupied through the pre-Christmas rush. Loftyc, I don’t recall that issue with the Aviatik, but it’s been a long time. Lou, Good job on the dead-stick landing. And I love the Norse lesson! And Wulfe, great description of Campbell witnessing his first crash.

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins
Part Six: In which I meet a farmer and fly about in a defective machine
.


The BE I flew this week, 2343, was past its prime. So said the Technical Sergeant, and so say all of us. I believe I wore it out on the 7th with a long flight. I was to fly for two hours, making a landing in an open field and returning to Netheravon. I decided to head towards London. Flying directly over the city was forbidden, but I thought I might see Windsor Castle and perhaps put down for tea and scones with His Majesty. The wind, however, had other plans and after an hour I was still only approaching Bracknell. Still, the area offered wide open farmland and I selected a large fallow field devoid of telegraph wires, poplars, and other protuberances, and settled the machine down gently. As I bounced merrily to the downwind edge of the field for takeoff, an older fellow on a motorcycle raced over the grass towards me. Dismounting, he came over to my aircraft and deftly climbed up onto the wing-root.

“Turn off that damned fan,” he shouted and I obliged, suddenly fearful I’d broken some law. “Wonderful piece of kit, this,” he said, patting the front of the cockpit rim.

“I hope you don’t mind my landing here,” I began. “You see, my orders...”

“#%&*$# the orders, man. That was a lovely landing. I intend to take my ticket myself.” Good God. The man was eighty if a day. “I don’t think the flying corps would take me, though. Come, you must have some tea.”

It was freezing and I was tempted and he insisted further and mentioned brandy and I’m a weak man. So it was I spent a wonderful hour with Mr. Sumner, who owned the large farm on which I’d landed. He was a wonderfully interesting fellow with a great fondness for things technical and he asked me enough about my machine to have me worrying he was a German spy. At length he drove me back to the BE in a wagon, together with a farmhand whom I taught to pull on the prop. Having successfully restarted without killing anyone, I took off and headed home, working on my story for Mr. Thomas, our instructor.
The day ended with congratulations from Thomas and the Technical Sergeant on diagnosing a faulty sparking plug and successfully replacing it in the field.

Over the next several days I was to practice dead-stick landings. On the first day I took off into a clear sky, turned south and climbed to just over 2500 feet when the motor quit completely and would not restart. I put the nose down and turned gingerly back to the field but came up short, narrowly missing a fence and a line of chestnut trees.

All was made right in the morning, so I again took off in 2343, looping around far to the south to approach the field from the east. But just before reaching 6000 feet, the Renault died again, this time filling the cockpit with the smell of petrol. I sideslipped immediately to lose altitude and cool the engine, using a technique Jericho had discussed a couple of nights before. I pancaked clumsily onto the aerodrome and was told I still needed two decent landings.

So on the 10th I tried again, by now overly nervous. I came over the field high up, just east of my intended spot. Thinking I had lots of time I spiralled to the east and ended up too far away. Twice I nearly stalled and in the end I flopped the machine short of the mown field, breaking the left side wing spar.
Captain Hampton-Lewis tore a strip off me for being a bloody fool and a rotten pilot and threatened to send me back – but came up short when he remembered I hadn’t transferred from the Army.

Finally on the 11th I managed a perfect landing, rolling right up to my intended spot on the field, and I the afternoon I repeated the show.

[Linked Image]
Starting the glide

Next day it was a free flight with orders to try tight turns but to avoid playing “silly bugger” with the machine. Aerobatics was frowned upon, but we were all keen to try our hands. Swany had discussed spins over dinner one evening. Our machines were the C type, which had a tail fin as opposed to the B type with only a rudder. C type machines were harder to spin. There were those who swore that spins were nearly always unrecoverable, but Thomas had suggested that one had merely to put the nose down, hold everything central, and pray. Oh, and avoid DH2s and Moranes like the plague.

So I climbed to 5000 feet over Salisbury and turned north. After entering a shallow dive to gain speed, I zoomed until I lost all airspeed and then gave full right rudder. The machine fell over and began to turn like a leaf caught in a whirlpool. Before I lost my senses due to the motion I pushed the stick hard forward. Almost at once the BE fell out of the spin and I regained control. I tried the manoeuvre twice more. Spins seemed like child’s play. I thought momentarily of trying a loop, but the lumbering aircraft dissuaded me and I returned to Netheravon content for the moment.

Attached Files Dead-Stick.jpg
#4453834 - 12/19/18 12:13 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
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Fullofit Online content
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Fullofit  Online Content
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Joined: Nov 2014
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Ajax, ON
Originally Posted by Raine
Fullofit, that was a great vignette with Dr. Girard-Mangin. You’ll have to remind Gaston that he’s married, but I’m not 100% sure it will make a difference.

Raine, Madame Voscadeaux sleeps soundly, trusting her husband will do the right thing.
Great story, just make sure Technical Sergeant doesn't make James replace all the spark plugs.

Lofty, I had a few QC flights in the Aviatik. You're right, they do want to climb. All 3 of them, B.I, B.II and C.I! How can you stand this? This seems like an issue OBD should be made aware of.


"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."
#4453938 - 12/19/18 10:29 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,436
Fullofit Online content
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Fullofit  Online Content
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Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,436
Ajax, ON
17-18 December, 1915
Le Bourget
Sergent Gaston A. Voscadeaux

-“Why does this always happen to me?” Gaston kept on asking himself as he watched two Augustinian monks walk out of the captain’s office all covered in soot and ashes.
-“VOSCADEAUX!” Captain’s voice could clearly be heard not just outside of his office, but throughout most of the aerodrome.
Gaston got up from his chair and entered the office as per his captain’s invitation.

Yesterday morning...

-“Finally some real action.” Gaston could hardly contain himself when he heard that the bombing exercises are up next. “This is what I’m here for.” He was instructed to pick a target and have at it. When he went in the morning to inspect the “ordnance” slung under his Caudron, his enthusiasm was deflated significantly.
-“Students aren’t allowed live ammunition.” Was the tired explanation given by the armorers to all the pilots who came by and complained that these did not look like bombs. ‘The bombs’ were canvas sacks filled with ashes from the kitchen stoves. When dropped and had exploded, they would leave a nice mark on the ground spreading the light grey contents, indicating the impact point. This would aid the pilots adjust their aim as necessary after returning from their bombing run and examining their handiwork.
Gaston decided to attack a bridge north of the aerodrome. He approached it from the south flying along the road. When he was over the bridge he released one of the bags and made a whistling noise to complete the illusion. The sack hit the water to one side of the bridge, leaving no mark. Gaston should have known better! He switched to a different target. One that would leave a mark. A bend in the river cut by a straight line of the road would delineate his new target area. He will try to hit that small piece of land. There was still a chance that his bombs would fall into the water, but it was a chance he was willing to take. After making an about turn and approaching his target from the north he released his second bomb. He made another whistling sound with his mouth and then, after witnessing the impact on the ground he made a sound of an exploding shell from a Soixante-Quinze. Gaston was happy with his aim and decided to give it another go to make sure it wasn’t just luck. He put some distance between the target and his plane and then made a tight turn to line up for another run. Another set of whistling and exploding sounds. By now his moustache was full of spittle, but his egg hit the right spot again. Gaston had one more sack of soot and very little saliva left. He decided to increase the level of difficulty and aim for a small shed on the farm just south of the bridge. He will have to be more precise with such a small target. He was coming fast and had little time to aim. The bomb exploded wide and Gaston could only blame himself for rushing it. Tiny droplets of rain begun to fall from the overcast sky telling him the exercise was over.

This morning...

The weather cleared up overnight and now Gaston was carrying his four sacks of ashes at 2000 m through the clear blue skies. He made the decision to switch it up and pick a target in a totally different location from yesterday. East of the aerodrome he found some ruins surrounded by a small forest.

[Linked Image]

He made his first run on the go to simulate a surprise attack and the bomb hit the east side of the building. He flew over the target and made another run from the south at a reduced height. This time his bomb hit the north end of the target. Gaston turned east and approached the target from the south again. His third bomb, released early, fell on the south side, while Gaston’s machine banked west for the final run. His last bomb bounced of the roof and hit the west face. The building was now covered in a cloud of ashes on all four sides. Gaston made another circuit around the target admiring his work, turned east and made his way to the aerodrome.

Now...

-“Sergent Voscadeaux, you are an even bigger idiot than I’ve imagined.” Captain’s friendly voice greeted Gaston as he was walking through his door. “I just had a visit from two monks. Did you know that someone earlier today attacked their monastery? Apparently there was dust and ashes everywhere. I had to explain that it was an accident and that one of our students couldn’t tell the difference between a monastery and ruins. I’ve had it up to HERE with you! Why can’t you follow orders? But you know what? I don’t care. Let someone else deal with you. Tomorrow you’re flying your final examination mission and that’s it. It’s over. Heh, heh ... Over, you hear me? What are you standing here around? DISMISSED!” Gaston didn’t have to be told twice. As he was leaving a thought crossed his mind: “I don’t think the captain likes me.”

Attached Files 1915-12-18.jpg

"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."
#4453948 - 12/20/18 12:13 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
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Posts: 926
Vancouver Island, Canada
I will be away over Christmas, so will catch up with you all in about a week. Looking forward to a good read then!
Cheers!

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