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#4468946 - 04/04/19 11:38 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine Online content
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It is with great delight that I, in my official capacity as Deputy Assistant Gong Fairy, temporary, acting, unpaid, hereby announce that it is the King's distinct pleasure to confer upon one Randolph Arvid Swanson, the award of...of. Dammit, where is that chit they gave me? Wot? Tea is up? Well then, good show and all that. Must be off.

[Linked Image]




Attached Files WOFF_DID_British_MC_Bar_Randolph_Swanson_001.jpg
Last edited by Raine; 04/08/19 01:36 AM.
#4468949 - 04/04/19 11:43 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Good on you Lou, congratulations!

Wulfe, didn’t mean to wake you boys up but orders are orders. Nice blend of stories!


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!
#4468974 - 04/05/19 01:43 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Looks like the Gong Fairy has been busy again. Thank you for including Gaston in the festivities and thank you all for the congrats. I salute you. Congrats to Swany and Campbell. Well deserved.
Wulfe, The Violet Devil? I like it. It sounds even more terrifying in German: Das Purple Nurple.
That miserable weather seems to be getting under the skin. Let’s hope for some sun soon. Great crossover into No. 3 “world”. Congrats on the confirmation. Graham’s definitely on his way. I like the custom skin profiles. You need to add the Kaiser’s finest to your collection.
Lou, first, congrats on the bar to go with your MC. Looks like you’ll have to her a longer ribbon soon. That’s a subtle paint job on your bus. Good thing L’Aviation Militaire isn’t so uptight as RFC otherwise the Purple Menace would never see the light of day. Do you think the back of your bus should be painted in different colours to mask Rankin’s vomit?
MFair, ouch! That would be a terrible way to go, to be snuffed by a cable. I don’t know how you do it - flying in formation in the dark.

2 April, 1916 6:35 morning show
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent  Gaston A. Voscadeaux
9 confirmed kills

Recon of enemy front sector north of Chalons.
Lieutenant Dagonet was back from the hospital after his mid-air collision with a Boche and the miraculous crash landing. He lead the mission all the way to the front, stayed on station for 22 minutes and returned back to base without any contact. The weather was atrocious and the Boche stayed snug in their comfy beds, all safe from rain and wind tossing them around.

2 April, 1916 14:50 afternoon show
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent  Gaston A. Voscadeaux
9 confirmed kills

Gaston was ordered to attack enemy factories at Sedan. Le Prieur rockets were loaded again.
"- Third time's a charm." Voscadeaux thought to himself as the previous times he carried these weapons, the missions didn't go as planned. It was only him and his wingman Adjutant Adelus. The weather has not improved one bit. Perhaps les Boches will also stay in bed all day? They were off and crossing the frontlines at 2,400 m. Just a bit further north Gaston heard a loud bang as one large splotch of oil hit his windscreen. The engine started to make a racket not unlike the one his wife used to make in the kitchen. He had to leave Adelus to complete the mission on his own. Voscadeaux wasn't happy with the decision but he had no choice. His plane was slowly losing altitude and he was at 1,800 m when he crossed the frontlines on his way back. Gaston decided to set his sick machine on one of the roads. As he was waiting for the recovery crew he was impatient to hear any news of his wingman. Thankfully by the time he returned to base with his Nieuport, Adelus was already back safe and sound. What is it with these Le Prieur rockets? Will Gaston ever get to use them?


"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."
#4468997 - 04/05/19 08:46 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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lederhosen Online content
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Germany
Met this one today... we decided to call it a draw


Attached Files Unbenannt.jpg
Last edited by lederhosen; 04/05/19 08:47 AM.

make mistakes and learn from them

I5 4440 3.1Ghz, Asrock B85m Pro3, Gtx 1060 3GB
#4469045 - 04/05/19 03:45 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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77_Scout Offline
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Vancouver Island, Canada
Aleck A. MacKinlay
April 3, 1916

Lead a patrol over friendly lines near Bethune. The German's were throwing up a terrific barrage and enemy spotting planes were expected, however, none where present. Clear skies made for a good flight.Edit and Berkely kept formation beautifully and the DH2 is a charm to fly.

Last edited by 77_Scout; 04/05/19 08:14 PM.
#4469102 - 04/05/19 07:17 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Emile Benoit La Mont
Sgt, N 26
St. Pol-sur-mer, AF
Flanders, France


April 5, 1916.


News Today.

Dawn Recon: Ran into Monoplanes down low my Escort engaged ( no kills No loses ) I stayed high and engaged 2 seat types After they hit my machine 3 times, I left the area for Home.

After breakfast Bread and Jam with Wine. We transferred to a forward AF Koksijde and Turned in our old a/c for N-11's and N-16's.

Late in the day , 2 Section went up to test fly and check our flying area. I was assigned # 2 a/c. All were slightly used from different Units.


Attached Files CFS3 2019-04-05 11-37-40-35.jpgCFS3 2019-04-05 12-06-11-52.jpgCFS3 2019-04-05 12-08-01-63.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 04/05/19 07:21 PM.
#4469103 - 04/05/19 07:20 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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MFair Offline
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Carrick, so your in scouts now. Good on you Bud, be careful.
Fullofit, glad you made it back. I hate engine failures!
Lederhosen, you may have been lucky, that looks like someone important.

Last edited by MFair; 04/05/19 07:23 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!
#4469105 - 04/05/19 07:22 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Oh Yes.

#4469106 - 04/05/19 07:56 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

Carrick, congrats to Emile on his new kite. The N11 is a wonderful plane to fly.

Scout, clear skies, both in terms of weather and enemy planes, are always appreciated. Plus, Aleck gets to enjoy those clear skies in a DH.2, the lucky bugger!

Lederhosen, that is the standard livery of the N11s of Esc.65.

Fullofit, too bad about the dud engine on Gaston's latest outing. But at least he set his mount down in one piece, so there is that.

Wulfe, it is exciting and a bit nerve wracking when one gets to lead the flight. A wash-out is not so much fun though, but what can you do about the weather.

MFair, a dud engine for Jericho too, eh? Must be something in the air. And I remember reading about that incident with the cable and hook - such a foolish waste of men and machine.

Raine, thanks for the bling! Swany will wear it proudly.

.

5 April, 1916
Bertangles West, France
3 Squadron, R.F.C.
2nd Lt. Randolph Arvid Swanson, MC and Bar
10 confirmed victories

2nd Lt. Swanson has had an outstanding day. The weather was beautiful and there was not a Hun to be seen in the skies on either the morning or afternoon sorties, both of which he was tasked to lead. The first outing was a bombing run on the Hun aerodrome at Bertincourt, ten miles behind the lines and no escorts to keep watch. It was a tense trip that far beyond No Man's Land without cover, but the two Moranes of B Flight made it there and back with nothing more than some Archie to contend with. They even managed to set three tent hangars on fire. The second sortie was a recce of the enemy lines south of Guillemont. Again, Archie came calling, but apart from that, no excitement. Captain Rankin was particularly pleased as it meant a fairly smooth and level ride on both occasions. After landing and reporting in from the afternoon mission the Major informed his star pilot that he had been awarded the Bar to the Military Cross for the outstanding work he had been continuing to do with No.3 Squadron. Swany was dumbstruck at the announcement. A second award, and in little more than three months at the front!

"You'll need to find a rosette to fit to that ribbon on your chest, my boy", the Major noted in a cheery tone, then pausing for a moment continued. "You know, I may just have one here you can make do with until you have a chance to buy your own." The CO rummaged through the top drawer of his desk and after several seconds produced the needed item. "Yes, success, here it is!" He handed the small silver flower to Swany.

"I, ah, yes Sir - thank you Sir - thank you very much", the young airman stammered, still taken aback by the news.

The CO laughed, then shook Swanson's hand. "No need to be so shocked by it Lieutenant, you are most deserving of the honour. You will of course be expected to buy the first round after dinner tonight."

Swany gave a broad smile as he answered, "Of course, sir. It vill be my pleasure!"

.


An outstanding day.
[Linked Image]

.








#4469111 - 04/05/19 09:36 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Yes! One step closer to the V.C, Mr. Swany!! Congratulations, and very well deserved!

2nd. Lieut. Graham A. Campbell,
No. 24 Squadron R.F.C,
Bertangles West, France.

It was early evening when Major Hawker gathered us on the airfield, and he had a keen, serious look in his eye. “Okay, gentlemen,” he begun, as we tensely hung on his words, “here it is. We’re escorting a Quirk from 13. I want you all to stay close, and no mucking about when we’re in Hunland. Campbell’s leading ‘B’ again, and I’ll lead ‘A’. Let’s show those boys that they can count on 24, eh?”. We let out a quick cheer, and headed to our machines through the mud and rain.

Miller was waiting to swing my prop, and as I climbed into the nacelle he sighed. “I wish you bloody fools would stop flying my DeHavs through this damned rain - you’ll deteriorate the spars!”. I shrugged, and pointed to Hawker’s bus. “There’s the man to talk to about it…”. He laughed in defeat, and grabbed hold of a propeller blade. “Well, happy hunting,” he offered, and brought the blade down with a force. The engine purred into life, and I started blipping it while waiting for Hawker to lift off. Promptly he did, and the rest of us followed, heading to Doullens to climb.


Freddy dropped out with engine trouble as we got to Doullens, turning back for Bertangles, as the rest of us pressed on through the rain. Hawker’s flight had disappeared to the North to climb up themselves. I took us up to 7,000 feet and checked my map. We were to meet the B.E. over Albert. Fortunately, the wind seemed to be regretting its maltreatment of us, and by way of apology it caught under our wings and gently lifted us upwards, affording us an impressive climb rate. I thanked it under my breath as we turned towards our rendezvous point.

As we approached Albert, a large shape emerged from the clouds ahead of us. I waggled my wings to signal my flight, but as we drew nearer I realised that it wasn’t our B.E. Instead, it was a twin-engine Caudron, heading away from the lines. We circled Albert for a few minutes, weaving through the thick clouds, but there was no trace of our Quirk. Confusedly, I checked my dashboard clock, and looked over my map again. We were in the right spot, at the right time...but where was our B.E? And, come to think of it, where was ‘A’ flight? I thought that they must have headed to the lines together already, and so I pointed us East once more and begun to climb through the haze.

We could see nothing but cloud ahead, and almost missed the fact that we were crossing into the mud as we approached (what I thought to be) Bray. How the hell are we meant to find an aeroplane in all of this? I thought bitterly, as I tried to make sense of our position. Through a break in the clouds I spotted the de Haut Lake, and realised we were too far North. Cursing under my breath, I turned us south, wiping off my goggles and scanning the clouds for either the Quirk or ‘A’ flight. By this point I was utterly miserable, and would happily take either if it meant getting home sooner. Finally, the clouds gave way to open air, and with a start I realised that we were flying above the border of Hunland, where the untouched grass meets the first craters. I looked around, but still there was no sign of anything.

Suddenly - I spotted a shape, low, moving along the river. I squinted my eyes against the rain, and saw that it was an aeroplane. One of ours, perhaps? I slowly descended, trying to get a better look - and then noticed the black crosses on the wings. It was a Fokker, making his way West from his own lines. I made one last check for the B.E, which was still nowhere to be seen, and then begun to stalk the unaware Hun.

Suddenly, he started turning back for his own lines - he had seen us! I rocked my wings wildly and went into a dive, coming down on the lone Eindecker with my wingmen at my back. He tried to skid away to the left, but was too slow, and I saw my tracers cutting away the fabric from his wings. Desperately he made a full loop and then turned for Hunland again, but my wingmen were upon him now also - there was no escape for him. I curved off to a flank as Tidmarsh took his turn at the Eindecker. His fire was accurate, and I watched as more bullets impacted the helpless Fokker. Wilkie then came in from above, but he hadn’t seen Tidmarsh. For one agonising second it looked like they were about to collide - but then Tidmarsh saw Wilkie bearing down on him and dove steeply away. “For god’s sake, pay attention!” I cried out, as my voice was torn away by the wind and shredded to nothing in my propeller blades.

Wilkie’s tracers also found their mark - and the Hun fell into a spin. I thought then that he was for it, but the Hun righted himself and pulled up mere inches from the ground, again desperately trying to make for home. Wilkie wasn’t having any of it, however, and again he bore down on the Eindecker. Before he could fire, the Eindecker wallowed in the air, before slamming into a tree and coming to an abrupt stop. As I circled overhead, I could see the Hun pilot slumped over in his seat. Not a moment after he had crashed, a torrent of Archie begun to go up at us from Hunland, and we immediately swung around for our own lines.

[Linked Image]

Once the archie had stopped pestering us, we begun to climb again over no-mans-land. As we climbed North, another shape emerged high above us from the clouds. I tensed, readying myself for another fight, but as I looked over the new machine I could scarcely believe my eyes - it was the B.E! I shook my head in disbelief as we steepened our climb to catch up to the two-seater. As we popped up on his right side, the Observer gave a start and grabbed his gun, but quickly recognised our machines and loosened his grip, before angrily turning my way, tapping his watch and shrugging dramatically. Where the hell have you been?!. I gestured to the sky, and then returned the shrug. Look at the bloody weather! No wonder we couldn’t find you!. The observer seemed to ponder this for a moment, and then nodded his head to the side. Okay. Fair enough.

[Linked Image]

We escorted him back into our lines, seeing him off with a wave at Cappy before, finally, I fired the washout signal and we turned for home. Wilkie stuck with me as the others melded away into the clouds, making their own ways home. As we came in to land, we were shocked to see the crumpled wreck of a DeHav on the aerodrome. Quickly landing beside it, I jumped out and recognised it as Freddy’s bus. Dread crept up in me as I ran towards the mess with Wilkie, ducking into the tent, but we both breathed a sigh of relief as we found Freddy idly chatting away with the Major.

“Any luck, fellas?” Freddy asked us. “Never mind that - what the bloody hell have you done to your crate?!” I cried. He laughed, and threw his arms up. “My engine stopped and the wind hit me side-on as I was dead-sticking it in. Lucky to walk from that one, actually, but my poor bus is a write-off”. I shook my head as I took a seat. “So, Campbell, did you ever run into that Quirk?” the Major asked, and I nodded. “Yes, but only after we’d had a scrap with a Fokker”. The Major raised an eyebrow. “Did you get him?” “Wilkie did”. “Bloody good stuff!”.

Tidmarsh and Andrews arrived not long after us, just as we were preparing the mess dining table for our dinner. We had the usual ceremony, with the Old Man standing to his feet and clearing his throat. He looked over the telegram, and his eyes widened in faux-horror. “Wot’s this?! No confirmed victories! Have you all been sleeping up there?!”. There was a collective groan around the table. “Ah, but wait - there is something from H.Q!” the Old Man said, in an overdone surprised voice. Curiously, we turned our attention back to him. “It seems that H.Q is giving Campbell the M.C!”.

I sat in stunned silence as the rest of the chaps patted me on the back and held a toast. “To Graham’s M.C!” came the ear-splitting cry, as the alcohol was brought forth by the Batmen.

Oh - P.S: I've added two new profiles to the gallery - 2.Lt. Swanson's Morane 'L' and Vfw. Willi Rosenstein's blue Aviatik! I'll add the link to the thread to my signature at some point for easy reference, should anyone care to check out the profiles in the future!

Last edited by Wulfe; 04/05/19 11:46 PM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4469132 - 04/06/19 12:58 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe Offline
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2nd. Lieut. Graham A. Campbell, MC,
No. 24 Squadron R.F.C,
Bertangles West, France.

April 5th, 1916.



I heard Johnstone’s apologetic voice softly calling my name as I slowly drifted into consciousness, and was met with the strange sensation of my tent being lit by the glow of an oil lamp. Blearily I took the cup of tea being pressed into my hands, and looked up into the friendly face of the Orderly. “Whasszgoinon..?” I mumbled. “Sorry to wake you, sir, but your escort patrol is scheduled to leave in 20 minutes”. I looked at my wristwatch, puzzled. “But...it’s only twenty-to-four!”.

Half-crawling out of my tent into the dark, frosty morning, I found a miserable silhouette shivering as it sat atop an ammo crate. “Morn’ Campbell” came Wilkie’s voice from the dark shape, and I grunted in response. “We’ve got a patrol this early?” I asked. Wilkie let out a long sigh. “Yup. We’re ferrying a pair of Quirks from No. 9 to Delville wood. Command wants them to be over their target at first light, so…” my eyes, now slowly adjusting, made out the shape of Wilkie raising his arms and gesturing at the darkness. Soon we were joined by Saundby, who was in a fouler mood than either of us combined. He muttered combinations of profanities I would never have dreamed of as he sidled up to us. Wilkie and I couldn’t help but chuckle, as he let out a fresh wave of swearing, followed by “...never get any bloody sleep until I’m dead…”.

We met with Freddy on the way to the aerodrome, where our buses waited for us in near pitch-darkness. To our surprise, he seemed positively raring to go. “Morning, Fellas! How about this? Night flying!” (He said the words ‘Night Flying’ as if presenting the name of a cabaret show, his hands shooting out to his sides). We groaned in chorus, and Saundby added “They can’t even wait until it’s light to disturb us now!”. Freddy grinned, and slapped him on the back. “Well, look on the bright side mate, it’s not raining anymore, and you get to pay No. 3 back for waking you up!”. I watched an evil grin spread across Saundby’s face as he pulled his flying helmet on. “Yeah...right! Good idea, Freddy!”.

Hawker was already aboard his bus, waiting for us, when we got to our own machines and climbed in. “Ready, chaps?” he shouted to us, which was met by a harmonised “No” from Saundby and Wilkie. Hawker’s laughs were quickly drowned out by our engines starting up, and my own laughs were also lost as I realised that Saundby, his chocks still in place, was running his engine as loudly as possible, opening up the throttle as fully as he dared to, before eventually idling again. Poor old No. 3, they don’t deserve that! I thought to myself, as I saw the white flash of Saundby’s grin smugly turning to us. Soon we were rolling down the field into pitch blackness. I have no shame in saying I had the wind-up proper as we approached the end of the airfield, where the land dipped steeply down, and I tried to picture the distance to that now-deadly drop-off as we approached.

With much relief I lifted off okay, but as I looked forwards I was horrified to realise that Hawker’s bus had already vanished completely into the darkness. I felt panic start to rise as I heard the others’ engines around me, but saw nothing. Suddenly, from out of the gloom, a DeHav flashed sickeningly close to the nose of my machine, and I jerked upwards on the stick in shock. I strained my eyes, trying to make out the pattern painted on the machine’s struts, and cried out in delight as I realised it was Hawker.

As I was sidling into formation, another DeHav shot over my head, giving me an awful scare. Nervously I tiptoed my own machine to my position in the formation, praying all the while that the others could see me better than I could see them. How on earth are we ever meant to find the Quirks like this? I thought to myself, as suddenly yesterday’s clouds and rain seemed like easy work. To the East my eye was drawn to a brilliant searchlight splitting the sky in two, at the base of which could be seen the occasional burst of an Archie gun. I knew that there must be a Hun up there, but how they ever expected to know where they were, I surely had no idea. By any means, our flight decided to overlook the ‘Attack Everything’ rule on this occasion. The climb up to altitude was terrifying - I kept my eyes firmly fixed on Freddy’s bus as we went up, not daring to look at my dashboard or my map for even a second for fear of a collision.

[Linked Image]

It was then that a fresh terror ambushed us - we had flown into a cloud. Suddenly there was nought but pitch blackness in front of me, and I felt terror grip me as I desperately looked for something - anything - to tell me where my wingmen were. Above me, I could barely make out the faintest image of a DeHav’s unpainted lower surfaces - feeling as if I was in some kind of horrific dream, I glue my gaze to the dull, wallowing shape, fighting the urge to drop away and run back to Bertangles. As we broke out of the other side of the cloud, I felt a single sob of elation escape me.

For a precious moment I saw clearly the silhouettes of my flight against the dull blue-white of a cloud - and I noticed that there were only three. Who had we lost? No time to try and work it out. I felt overwhelmed as I tried to find my position in the formation, and then suddenly we were into another cloud, and I was hit by a fresh wave of terror.

Through some divine miracle we managed to continue upwards without killing ourselves, but not before we were subjected to the horror of two more clouds. But, I then noticed that the sky had shed its black, adopting instead a deep, dark blue, and I could have cried with happiness as I realised that the sun would soon be peeking over the horizon. As the sky continued to lighten, and the first pink tones begun to take hold of the clouds, I could finally make out the painted struts of my wingmen - and with a lurch in my stomach I realised that it was Freddy who was missing, but I was distracted from thinking upon his fate by the yellowy flash of the B.E’s appearing underneath us. We gratefully assumed our position above and behind them as they lazily banked to the East.

Our approach had been perfectly times - as we crossed into the mud, the sun had only just begun to creep over the horizon, and our visibility was finally restored. Below us, the Quirks ambled lazily on, basking in the pink glow, as we hovered above, keeping our eyes peeled for any early-morning Huns. As we overflew Bapaume the sky seemed to suddenly burst into colour and life, and I forgot the terrors of night-flying as I looked out over the beauty of the clouds, soaked in the pinks and whites of dawn.

[Linked Image]

I looked back out over my shoulder, feeling quite at peace, when my happiness came to an abrupt stop. With a nauseating lurch I made out the shape of no less than six Fokkers, who had cleverly hooked around us as we had gone deeper into Hunland and now bore down on us from the direction of the mud. Frantically I rocked my wings, and at once Hawker swung his machine around in response. I tightened my grip on the stick as we curved around to face the Huns, and before I could prepare our formations merged.

I quickly got behind one Eindecker as the two sides exploded outwards into a wild, chaotic tangle of looping machines, and put a long burst into him, at which point he fell away in a vertical dive with smoke pouring from his engine. Just as soon as he had disappeared, bullets tore through my own wings, and I pushed the nose down in a panic to escape my unseen pursuer. I skidded away hard to the left, trying to get a glimpse of the Hun behind me, and spotted him as he banked away.

[Linked Image]

I zoomed up above him before nosing over and coming down in a vertical dive, but this artist was crafty and pulled away out of the reach of my Vickers. I then found myself twisting in a seemingly infinite corkscrew, down, down, down with the Hun, as we stared into each-other’s faces. Eventually we found that we had run out of sky, and as we danced around each other mere feet from the rooftops of Bapaume, I found myself slowly catching up to his tail. Just a few more centimetres and I would have him…

[Linked Image]

At my back, I felt the engine suddenly shudder, and fall silent. My blood ran cold - I was too low to glide home, too far in Hunland to escape through the mud. In a dumbfounded haze, I looked for a place to land, as the suburbs zoomed below me at deadly speed. I tried for the mud, but to my horror I realised that dead trees blocked every possible landing spot. I suddenly realised that I was about to die, alone, in Hunland. I thought of Switch-Off, Jimmy Reynard, and McHarg, I thought of my parents; the look in my Father’s eyes when he had shook my hand as I’d left for the last time. I thought of Jacky-Boy, and what I’d say to him in the next few moments. I thought of Hawker, still above my head somewhere, indomitable, and how I had let him down. I thought of Jeanne’s Coffee.

My bus impacted hard, rolling across the ground as sickening speed, as over my head flew the triumphant Eindecker. I saw the sun reflect in his goggles as he smugly looked down at me - his most recent victory, and, defeated, I let go of the stick.

Ahead of me, the trees and fences rushed up with open arms, welcoming me into eternity...


Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4469135 - 04/06/19 01:17 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

NOOOOOOOO! Say it ain't so Wulfe, say it ain't so.

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#4469138 - 04/06/19 01:20 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe, d#$nit! This better end ok!


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!
#4469144 - 04/06/19 02:08 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Carrick, finally a mount with a forward-firing weapon! I smell another Ace in the makings.
Lou, the problems a double Ace must face. Hopefully Swany will be able to post a picture of the said rosette. Any word from Georgette?
Wulfe, an exciting battle with that Eindecker. Close call with the target fixated wingmen and I loved the silent exchange with the Quirk’s observer.
Ok, I hate night flying. I hate Fokkers. I hate engines dying at low altitude with no place to land.


3 April, 1916 05:35 morning mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
9 confirmed kills

Finally the heavy rain clouds cleared this morning and Gaston was greeted with blue skies and bright sun. They have loaded Le Prieur rockets for their attack on enemy troop camp south of Grandpré. They've departed at 05:35 and made a quick trip to the target area. Gaston was stoked. He will finally fire the rockets he tried so many times to use before. This time there was no raid on the aerodrome, no dud engines. Voscadeaux was lined up and looking at the tents and sheds in the distance. He made himself ready, finger ready on the trigger.
"- On y va!" Gaston pressed the trigger. Nothing. He pressed again. Nothing again. He was now flying through a hail of bullets. The rockets would not fire.
"- Merde! Merde! Merde!" Voscadeaux was furious. "What is wrong with these things?" He saw other also having similar problem. They all circled back and returned with no damage inflicted to the camp. Gaston landed his plane and kicked the ground out of frustration as he walked back to the mess hall. It was later discovered that due to the recent wet weather the fuses on the rockets had become damp and would not fire. Gaston was not amused. At the mess he looked for a bottle of red to drown his sorrows.

[Linked Image]

3 April, 1916 13:30 afternoon mission
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Sous Lietenent Gaston A. Voscadeaux
9 confirmed kills

They have loaded Le Prieur rockets again on Voscadeaux's machine with assurances that this time they will truly work. Gaston wasn't so sure but took them along nevertheless. They were to attack factories at Martincourt. The weather turned and thick mist settled over the surrounding country. The French Ace took his two wingmen and navigated through this mist into La Bochie. It was a long flight but thankfully uneventful. Gaston saw the factories below and gave the signal to attack. Before take off they decided they will all attack as one and release their ordnance at the same time for maximum damage. This was the moment Gaston waited for a very long time now. They were getting close. With his trigger at the ready, Gaston concentrated on the task and when the first burst of Flak exploded close to his bus, he involuntarily squeezed the trigger. The rockets with great billows of smoke, one by one, left his aeroplane.
"Non, non, non! Come back!" Gaston accidentally released his missiles and the wingmen followed. The entire salvo went to waste. Not a single one hit the intended target. With his mouth wide open in disbelief, he was inhaling the acrid smoke left by his weapons. Gaston was foiled again. They started to shoot their Lewis MGs, but the brick structures of the factory did not show any signs of damage. It was futile and Gaston realized it right away. He gave another signal to reform. They were defeated and retreating with Flak mocking them as far as its range would allow it. Voscadeaux watched his wingmen form behind him when one of them veered off to one side and started to make abrupt direction changes. He was a dot now, but not alone. Another dot joined him in the deadly dance. Gaston quickly turned back to help his wingman. It was Adjutant Adelus, but he didn't need any help. He was pounding on an Eindecker, which was currently trailing a thick tail of gray smoke. Gaston watched with pleasure the enemy squirm uselessly, but then Adelus broke off his attack and flew towards the front lines, totally ignoring his target. Was he out of ammo? They did expend much of it on the factory walls. Without thinking twice, Voscadeaux took his wingman's place and brought the Boche down. The engagement was over and they all turned for home, but the Huns haven't quite finished playing yet. Two more Fokkers milled around above, observing the fight and now one of them dove down to attack the French fliers. It was purely by chance that Gaston noticed the move and countered the German's maneuver. The monoplane was no match for the French Ace and soon ended up in front of his gun. Voscadeaux was certain he had him and kept landing shots, despite the other airman's attempts to break free. Just a few more burst and ... Gaston was out of bullets. He flew alongside the Hun and watched him. The German retuned the gaze. He was a young boy with cheeks red from the cold wind. He formed a feeble smile, probably thinking that Gaston spared his life on purpose. Gaston flicked his hand off his flying cap fashioning a weak salute, then banked away from the young Boche and flew back home keeping an eye for any high-flying Huns attempting to ambush him. Back at the base he put in a claim for one Fokker. Adjutant Adelus was sore his near kill was snatched from him.


Attached Files 1916-04-03.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."
#4469161 - 04/06/19 06:56 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe Offline
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Had ya going there, lads? I'll tell you what - WoFF certainly had me going...I really, really thought Graham was a goner that time...note to self: when being shot from behind in a pusher, expect your engine to conk out!!

Fullofit: The Le Prieur curse continues! Hopefully Gaston's C.O will see sense and stop making him take the bloody accursed things out!


2nd. Lieut. Graham A. Campbell, MC,
No. 24 Squadron R.F.C,
Somewhere near Bapaume, France.

April 6th, 1916.


I awoke in an unfamiliar building, in a wonderfully comfortable bed. Beside me sat a concerned-looking old man, who upon seeing me roused from my sleep, quickly uttered a hushed remark to an unseen figure, before turning back to me. “Am I dead?” I blearily asked him, and he smiled warmly, but sadly. “No, Monsieur Pilote, you have been lucky”. Lucky? I thought vaguely to myself, as images of the scrap started rolling back into my mind, If I was lucky, I wouldn’t have been shot down!. Warily, and in a more hushed tone, I asked “Am I captured?”. The smile in return was no longer sad, but instead was sly and foxlike, hinting at the old man’s ferocity in his younger days. He let out a low chuckle. “No, not yet. Let’s keep it that way, ah?”. Slowly I raised myself up, becoming aware of a dull throb in my head. As I sat up, I saw the second figure in the room - a short, elderly lady in a simple frock. She stood with her hands clasped together, a worried look on her face.

Suddenly, I recalled the abrupt end to my fight. “How am I supposed to get across the lines!” I cried out, and simultaneously my elderly hosts shushed me, sitting perfectly still for a few moments before breathing out a collective relieved sigh. “Silencieux, Monsieur Pilote!” the elderly man whispered, and I clapped a hand to my mouth. Relaxing again, he asked “Across the lines? Why, you already are…”. I looked at him confusedly. “No - this is Bapaume...behind the Hun trenches…”. He shook his head. “Non, this is Courcelette. We found your Avion on the outskirts, just past the German lines”.

I felt a flicker of hope. I’d made it past the Hun lines! I could get home! As if in response to my thought, the old man leaned in close. “You must wait until late, in the dark. Then, you must go! At night they send out flares, that illuminate the ground, so stay low. But - before we plan your escape, you must be hungry”. As it turned out, he was spot-on.

The poor old couple only had raw potatoes to offer, but gratefully I accepted my share, wolfing one down and thanking my wartime hosts. It seemed to fulfil them, to hear my voiced appreciation. Back on my feet now, I cautiously approached a shuttered window, cracking it open a hair and peeking outside. What I saw sickened me - the town had, only two or three buildings left intact, with the rest having been reduced to nought but ash and rubble. In the streets lay dead horses and men, dressed in grey and in khaki. Without thinking, I muttered “how can you live here?”, before turning round quickly and, in shame, beginning to apologise. I was stopped by the old man holding a hand up. “Ah, but we are old souls, Monsieur Pilote, and this has been our home for many years. Why leave it behind now?”. I looked into the man’s eyes, strong and fierce, and felt a deep sorrow for him - but also a respect. Although the man wore tattered civilian clothes, and his body was thin and frail, I saw in him a fighting spirit greater than that of the bravest airman.

“Get some more rest,” the old man said, a subtle defiance in his tone, “prepare for nightfall”.

Last edited by Wulfe; 04/06/19 06:57 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4469180 - 04/06/19 12:54 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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RAF_Louvert Offline
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L'Etoile du Nord
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Wulfe, yes, you did have us going. I can breath a sigh of relief now, knowing that Graham is relatively safe and be looked after by that brave old French couple. Great stuff. Also, that screenshot in your previous post with the Airco in the red sky is stellar.

Fullofit, what folly by the powers-that-be, sending Gaston and his wingmen out to attach a factory with rockets. Even if your man had been able to get them on the target it is highly unlikely they would have done anything apart from mar the brickwork. Another fine video, and another claim for your courageous Frenchman, let's hope it gets approved. It would make him a double ace! Also, this is what the WWI British MC ribbon with the rosette attachment looks like.

[Linked Image]

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#4469182 - 04/06/19 01:00 PM 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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Ajax, ON
Wulfe, that’s a relief. It looked very grim, but it looks like Campbell had a bit of a Chicken Little moment. I was expecting him to wake up in hospital out for 3 months cared for by an angel, but instead it’s an old man and he’s ok. Looking forward to the night escape account.


"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."
#4469185 - 04/06/19 01:09 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
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Lou, apart from spit, rockets are all Gaston has in his arsenal. He was hoping to start a fire or two. It is still early and the Brass knows not the capabilities of its own weapons yet. Thanks for the pic of the rosette. Looks perfect as another motif for Swany’s bus.


"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."
#4469199 - 04/06/19 01:53 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,477
RAF_Louvert Offline
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Senior Member

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Posts: 3,477
L'Etoile du Nord
.

6 April, 1916
Bertangles West, France
3 Squadron, R.F.C.
2nd Lt. Randolph Arvid Swanson, MC & Bar
10 confirmed victories

Another fine day for flying at Bertangles. 2nd Lt. Swanson was up early for his jog around the field and he really needed it this morning. His head was throbbing from last night's celebrations in the mess. He had intended to pace himself but that plan did not work out and by evening's end he'd lost count how many drinks he'd had. Truth be told, he'd been drinking quite a bit over the last week since the loss of Captain Craig. Had it only been a week? It seemed like an eternity ago. Time is an odd thing, especially war time. Minutes, even seconds, can seem to crawl by depending on the situation, while the days and weeks are gone in a flash. The young airman was mulling this over, among other things, as he rounded the field. The cold, crisp, early morning air felt good in his lungs and was doing wonders to clear his head. As he finished the final leg past the Bessonneaus he determined he would restrict his drinking to no more than one or two a day, perhaps even less. He did not feel good about himself when he overindulged. "All things in moderation", as his father would say.

The Brass Hats were taking advantage of the good weather, sending all the teams up twice daily. Swanson again was tasked as the leader of B Flight for both sorties, which suited him fine. While the added responsibility did make for a bit more stress, that stress was offset by the relief of not having to follow someone else. Swany much preferred being able to pick and choose what he felt were the best routes to and from the assigned targets and patrol areas. Today, those targets and areas were as follows: in the morning a recce of the Hun trenches west of Pozieres; and in the afternoon another run at the aerodrome at Bertincourt to drop more Coopers on it.

It was another dry day in terms of aerial combat. The Eindeckers actually seemed to be avoiding the boys of No.3 Squadron. During the second outing Swany spotted a trio of the Fokkers crossing over the mud well below as he was returning from Bertincourt. There were two tan ones being lead by a green one, but they all stayed well below despite turning to follow the Moranes for a short while. Swany wondered if they were actually giving chase or simply going through the motions for the benefit of their countrymen in the trenches. Whichever it was, there was no engagement. On the same outing, as B Flight was passing south of Doullens, a pair of French Caudrons were spotted and Swanson flew up next to them and he and Captain Rankin gave a wave. He was impressed by the size of the machines and wondered how they were to fly. This thought no sooner moved on when the Le Rhône in his bus began to cough and sputter. No amount of fiddling with the mixture would make it smooth out, so he made best speed available back to Bertangles, a grayish smoke trailing behind for the remainder of the trip. Fortunately, the beast kept running and got them home and on the field in one piece. It had been a while since he had engine trouble, so Swany figured he was past due.

Later on in the afternoon, 2nd Lt. Swanson went to the CO's office to ask permission to leave camp so that he could travel up to Auchel for a visit to Georgette's. He wanted to let the woman know that he was OK, as he had left quite abruptly due to the latest squadron move. The Major said that, unfortunately, he could not allow one of his pilots to be away at the moment, things were simply too busy. Perhaps in a week or so, if business settled down. Until then a letter to the madam would have to suffice. While Swany was not happy with the Major's response, he was not unhappy with it either. He really did not know quite what to do about Georgette anyway, and some additional time to think about it would not be a bad thing.

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A trio of Eindeckers that refused to come up and play.
[Linked Image]


Giving a wave to the French aviators.
[Linked Image]


Making it home with a bucky Le Rhône.
[Linked Image]

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#4469263 - 04/06/19 09:31 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Lou that was a close call

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