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#4470527 - 04/15/19 03:33 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lt. Mark Jericho
April 13, 1916

Jericho and Camille left the restaurant late in the evening. He had learned that Camille's husband had been killed in 1914 when the fighting started. She had no family and was supporting herself in the only way she could. They had a wonderful time walking the streets of Amiens but it was getting very late. Jericho walked her to where she was staying and when he started to leave she took his arm and started to pull him into into the room. He stopped and raised his hand saying, "you don't owe me anything ma'am." She smiled back and said "money, no" and pulled at his arm again. How could he say no!


[Linked Image]

April 15, 1916
Jericho sat in the predawn light listing to the Morane engine and feeling the chill of the wind. They were off to bomb the front lines southwest of Monchy. Before takeoff Christian had told him, "you had best forget about that woman for a while mate! If you don't, you may not ever see her again." Jericho looked at Christian and said, "that woman has a name and it's Camille." Christian had no idea why Jericho was smitten with the girl but he was so that was that.


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!
#4470539 - 04/15/19 04:27 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Heck, MFAIR, after that pic I'M smitten with her too!

#4470567 - 04/15/19 07:21 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Germany
nice jug(s)


make mistakes and learn from them

I5 4440 3.1Ghz, Asrock B85m Pro3, Gtx 1060 3GB
#4470574 - 04/15/19 08:12 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Jericho, you dirty dog! Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Cowboys do love to ride, after all. Great narrative MFair, I'm curious to see what becomes of Jericho's newly found attraction - and, of course, how it might affect him in the air!

Sgt. James B. Fullard,
Esc N.31,
Ochey Aerodrome, France.

April 15th, 1916 (Part 1).


The sun was only beginning to cast its light over the dew-soaked grass of Ochey aerodrome as I quietly pulled on my uniform. I was surprised as I awoke to find a figure in the bed next to mines. From under the sheet poked the top of a black-haired head, gently snoring away. I made sure to be careful not to wake him as I crept out into the corridor and made my way towards the mess. Georges was in his usual spot at the corner of the table, smoking a cigarette as he read through the newspaper. “There’s somebody in my room..” I told him. “Yes, sir. The new replacement”. Victor’s replacement. I pulled a chair out, the legs scraping across the ground, and almost immediately from the corridor came the cry of “Who’s out there causing that racket?”. “Fullard,” I called back. “How’s the weather?” came Lemoine’s voice. I made my way over to the door and cracked it open, peering outside before calling out “Clear”.

Presently Messier, the Orderly who tells us our assignments, arrived and, with a great grin on his face, set about the work of knocking on doors and waking the pilots up. “Up, up up, you lazy lot! You’re flying today!” he called, as a chorus of protests and insults rolled out of the pilots’ rooms. Before long, we were all assembled in the mess. Messier took no notice of the pilots cursing him under their breaths as he listed off the assignments.

I was assigned to the first job of the day - escorting our Nieuport 12 on a reconnaissance mission over St. Mihiel, alongside Metayer (the new arrival). This time, Lt. Auger himself would be leading our escort. Tartaux, as Lemoine had predicted last night, would be piloting the Biplace. After that, I was set to patrol near Nomeny, further east down the lines.

We congregated on the airfield at 6am. From the cockpit of the Nieuport 12 I saw Tartaux staring intently at us, a fearful coldness in his gaze. I knew that he was assessing us, making his opinion of our usefulness. “You two,” snapped Auger, “Sharp eyes. If I wave you off, you go straight home”. We both nodded, and boarded our machines. As with my first patrol, the excitement built within me as the distant scar of no-mans-land drew ever-closer.

[Linked Image]
Finally, some sun!!!!

As we crossed over the top of the ruins of St. Mihiel, with the Two-Seat Nieuport below and in front of us, I recalled Ortoli’s remark. The Bosche come from the North and the East. Slowly, methodically, I scanned the skies for any sign of the enemy. Nothing. We flew for ten minutes or so, before suddenly Auger violently rocked his wings and went into a near-vertical dive. Confused, I followed, and ahead of me appeared the shape of two Eindeckers. They were flying the opposite way to us, completely unaware of our presence.

[Linked Image]

My heart rate quickened as they grew in our sights. And, suddenly, Auger was behind one. Our formations burst outwards, and before I could come to my senses I was in the midst of a twisting dogfight. An eindecker flashed in front of me, and I fired a burst into him, watching as he slipped into a spin before quickly recovering. I gave chase, hungry for the kill, as Auger’s machine took up position behind me. The Bosche tried to curve away, but I stuck close to his tail. Simultaneously two bursts of tracer fire hit him - one from my machine and one from Auger’s - and I watched the pilot bolt upright in his seat before slumping forwards. Who’s bullet got him?! I asked myself as the Eindecker slowly tilted forwards, going into a screaming nosedive. The last I saw of the Bosche, he was still in his death-dive, the fabric ripping away from his wings. Looking around me, I could find no trace of my wingmen, and so I flew back to the edge of the mud and started to climb. My eyes were drawn to a thin line of smoke rising from the mud, and as I strained my eyes I could see that it was what remained of the Fokker Auger and I had downed.

[Linked Image]

I saw a small cream-white shape flitting around in circles, at near ground level, over the wreckage. It was Auger, taking a closer look at his handiwork. I flew over to join him, appearing at the same time as Messier. Together we triumphantly formed up, and I couldn’t help but punch the air, letting out an excited whoop. We showed them! I thought, grinning at my compatriots from my cockpit. I saw Messier blankly looking back at me.

As we climbed out of our cockpits at Ochey and the mechanics appeared to wheel our machines into their hangars, Thierry ran a hand along the fuselage of my bus. “Hmmmm….” he said, with a critical nod, before looking over his shoulder at me with a sharp-toothed grin. “This coucou smells of victoire! Could it be? Did our Américain shoot down a Bosche?”. I punched him on the arm playfully. “Oh! Oh! But he did!” Thierry cried, poking me in the ribs. In the middle of our horseplay Auger strode up to us. Thierry cleared his throat, smoothed his overalls down and went back to his work. “Fullard. Excellent work. I saw your Bosche fall. I’ll telephone the front and ask the army for confirmation. We go back up at 2 O’Clock”. I snapped to attention, but couldn’t prevent the stupid smile on my face. “Yes, sir! Thank you!”.

In the mess I finally had the chance to introduce myself to my new roommate. “Sergent Albert Metayer. It’s a pleasure” he told me as I shook his hand. He was very softly spoken, quiet. His voice itself had a quality of being cold and emotionless, and in his deep green eyes was a look of infinite assessment. His face, clean-shaven, youthful, sharp and pale, remained frozen in a blank expression, save for the occasional slight upward turn at the corner of his mouth as he smiled unconvincingly.

“That was a good scrap this morning,” he said as we sat down to a late breakfast of ham and eggs. I agreed. “Yes, wasn’t it? Auger and I got one Bosche, but I never saw what happened to the other”. Matter-of-factly, as if declaring that the sky was blue, he replied “I shot him down”. I raised an eyebrow. “You got one? On your first patrol?”. “Of course. He got in front of my guns”.

As my eyes met his, I saw not a scrap of dishonesty. Behind the dull fire that burned in his eyes, I saw that he was telling the absolute truth. Here, I thought to myself, is a real killer.



Last edited by Wulfe; 04/16/19 07:43 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4470589 - 04/15/19 09:30 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe, nice story again! Your new mate bare watching.

Lederhosen, it is a nice little jug. I had not noticed it before.

Raine, I always was.....I mean Jericho always was a sucker for the sleepy eyed brunettes.


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!
#4470613 - 04/15/19 11:53 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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MFair: Dont do it ! Ur wallet will be empty and U will have to sell Ur Horse.

#4470621 - 04/16/19 12:07 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: carrick58]  
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MFair Offline
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Originally Posted by carrick58
MFair: Dont do it ! Ur wallet will be empty and U will have to sell Ur Horse.

rofl


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!
#4470622 - 04/16/19 12:09 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Sgt. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N31,
Ochey Aerodrome, France.

2 Claims Pending.

April 15th, 1916 (Part 2).


At Two O’Clock Auger, Metayer, little Devienne and I all congregated on the aerodrome. Hastily we boarded our machines and I looked over the map, on which our patrol route had been marked out in pencil. We were headed further east from St. Mihiel, where we would patrol near the borders of the region of Lorraine. The lines straightened out at that sector, so we would only have to look North for incoming Bosches.

We got underway, our four Nieuports lifting up into the clear blue sky and heading towards the lines. Behind me, I noticed that Messier was already slowly scanning the skies above us by the time we had reached Nancy. I thought it overly cautious, but I scanned too. Nothing appeared to me save for the giant shapes of two Caudrons sailing peacefully along, side by side. As I watched them disappear behind a cloud, I wondered if they were piloted by my friends at C.66.

Immediately as we crossed into the mud I saw them. Three Eindeckers, slightly higher, boldly flying out to meet us head-on. My grip tightened on the flying stick as our two formations closed the distance. One dove down to attack, and before I knew it he was on my tail. Feeling panic building up, I twisted and turned, trying to shake the German, but a burst from Auger soon had him looping away. Together we gave chase as I saw our wingmen pursuing the other two Fokkers. Auger was behind the Bosche, but as I approached he curved away to the flank. His intent was clear. Get him, Fullard. I flew as close as I dared to the Bosche’s tail and pressed down on the trigger.

I was taken completely by shock as an intense heat hit my face, and sparks showered my windshield. Instinctively I pushed the nose of my machine down and zoomed underneath the Eindecker, and it was then that I saw a sight I shall never forget for as long as I live. As I looked up, not five feet above my head was a brilliant plume of fire erupting from the nose of the German machine. I was almost close enough to reach out and touch the wheels. I skidded away to the right of the burning Eindecker and looked into the cockpit. Mercifully, the German pilot hung limp in his seat, and for one haunting moment the machine, still consumed by fire, flew on straight and true, as if the aeroplane itself was making one last bid for its lines. Then, silently, its nose dropped and it fell into oblivion.

[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]
[Linked Image]


Stunned into silence at what I had seen, I turned back towards French lines. From behind the edge of a cloud appeared a Nieuport, who fell into position behind me. It was Metayer, the same indifferent look on his face. He waved to me casually as he joined me, as if we had run into one another on the street. Soon after, we found little Devienne circling in the mud. After lingering for a few moments, expecting Auger’s arrival, Devienne signalled to return home.

At suppertime the mood in the Barracks was euphoric. Auger had returned a half-hour after us; he had chased a Fokker as far as Metz before catching him and bringing him down. With his ghostly little smile, Metayer told us how he had brought down his second Fokker - an account that was corroborated by little Devienne. “Là! Là! Là! Là! You are telling me that our new man brought down two Bosches on his first day?! It has taken me all my time in the air to score twice!”. Ortoli scoffed. “Lemoine, that is because you’re always too drunk for aiming! All the Bosches have to do with you on their tail is fly perfectly straight! But, two shot down on your first day, Metayer, that is a rare feat indeed. You must be a real A-1 pilot!”.

From the end of the table, Chaput pointed out “But, did you hear, our Americain has also claimed two today!”. Lemoine spat a mouthful of wine out in shock. “Merde, this can’t be! Two brand new pilotes, with four Bosche between them before sundown! Man, what luck we’ve had! Two Voscadeaux’s have come to our squadron!”. “Oh! No, no! I was lucky! For both of mines Auger was at my side helping me!” I responded, embarrassed. “All the same,” Ortoli cut in, “congratulations to you both! You have made France proud. There are Bananas in your future, and lots of them!”. I frowned in confusion. “Bananas…?”. He gave a wry smile. “Medals”.

“And yours? You acted alone?” Lemoine asked Metayer. He shrugged. “And you think they’ll be confirmed?”. “Oh. It doesn’t matter to me. But, anyway, I think it’s time I went to bed”. Lemoine’s face turned beet red. “Doesn’t matter, he said! You don’t want to build your score?!”. Metayer’s hollow smile appeared again. “My friend, I am a soldier. What does fame do to win the war?”. With that, he disappeared into the corridor.

We sat quietly for a few moments. “He makes me uneasy” Ortoli finally said, and there were murmurs of agreement. “ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʜᴇ ɪs ʀɪɢʜᴛ,” Jensen remarked, “ᴡᴇ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟ sᴄᴏʀᴇs”. Little Devienne scoffed. “Speak for yourself, Viking! I plan to become France’s As des As!”. Lemoine grunted in agreement as he took another swig of wine.

I entered my room at the end of the night to find Metayer sound asleep, not even stirring. As for myself, I was restless. In my head, I replayed the events of the day. I found myself unsettled slightly by the image of the burning Fokker.


Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4470628 - 04/16/19 12:36 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Red Cross
Station 5
Paris.





Commandant Esc 26.

This is to inform you that The German High Command has informed us that Sgt Emile La Mont is in the bag. His machine made a hard landing and he was captured while setting fire to his flying machine
on our side of the lines. Again, They complain about this practice. It needlessly causes surrounding fire damage. The machines are inferior to theirs , there is no need to destroy what is left of them.
It was signed by a Maj, Fredick Grosse.

Raymond Snitch
Station 5
Admin.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-04-15 17-08-42-23.jpgCFS3 2019-04-15 17-15-23-19.jpg
#4470634 - 04/16/19 01:47 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine Offline
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Wulfe, Fullard’s story has had a great beginning. I am enjoying the character of Devienne especially. Congrats on the early victories – the photo of the flaming Eindekker is a gem.

Lederhosen, glad to hear your back is getting better.

Lou, East London meets Northern Minnesota. That’s a marriage made in heaven! Great sketch of Dirks.

Scout, Abeele seems to be bringing luck. Fine job on that balloon.

Fullofit, congratulations on Gaston’s promotion. There is a massive dose of confidence in his flying these days. The videos are real lessons in flying. And then to top it all off with getting injured. Take care of Gaston – I suspect he is about to become an icon of la patrie! I second Wulfe’s and MFair’s comments that his devil-may-care approach is at once inspiring and terrifying.

Hasse, it is so good to see Julius in his scout now. And here’s a toast to his first kill. Just watch for the Moranes overhead. Collins’s No 3 Squadron keeps getting sent to drop bombs on Bertincourt.

Carrick, Emile in the bag! Who is next?

MFair -- "I came into this world covered in someone else's blood, I damned sure don't mind goin' out that way!" – That’s a line you could build a whole movie script around.

An Airman’s Odyssey – by James Arthur Collins
Part Thirty-Five: In which the war begins to get lonely...

It struck me at the end of the week that we had been flying from Lahoussoye for five days and hadn’t been dry once. On Tuesday, 11 April, we flew twice to Bertincourt and dropped bombs through the mist in the general direction of the Hun aerodrome at Bertincourt-Vélu. During the first attack, three Fokkers sailed past us in the mirk and did not notice us at all despite the machine gun fire that danced about our Moranes.

That afternoon we were told the sad news that Swanson is leaving us. I thought back to the day last summer we took bets on how quickly he could chop down the tree at Long Branch, and the laughs on the long train ride to Saint John. And the SS Scandinavian, which we all joked was named for Swaney. And the cold mornings at Netheravon. And the first thrilling days together at Auchel. It had been a long and twisting road. Now he was off to England to join a new squadron that was working up. Before he embarked, he was to fly some trials at Candas against the Fokker he’d downed. Unlike the two I’d had a hand in putting down in our lines, Swaney’s hadn’t been picked apart by souvenir-hunters. Best of all, he’d gained a bar to his well-deserved MC.

On 12 April 1916 we took off in rain and darkness for a reconnaissance well north of the Somme. At one point I saw flashes from our Archie somewhere near Bouzincourt and went to inquire. The visibility was too poor to find the Huns responsible for this display and I spent another hour finding the Major again, eventually rejoining him only to arrive at the end of our allotted time over the lines. In the afternoon we dashed over to Vimy to hit a rail station behind the Hun lines and inched our way back into a headwind. My room-mate from Bruay, Dalton, and his observer Ethan Williams had been seen to put their crippled machine low east of Bapaume. Williams shared my billet with M. and Mme. Poidevin. To make matters worse, Lawley, the other observer at the Poidevin home, was missing along with his pilot, Embrey. I tried to remember what Lawley and Williams had told me about their families. I told the senior observer, Captain McNaughton, that I’d sort their kit. To the man’s eternal credit, he said to leave it to him.

I broke the news to the Poidevins and they were genuinely shaken by it. They insisted I accompany them to the little village church where they offered the priest a few francs to say a Mass for leurs enfants anglais. That night I managed a fresh loaf from Madame Defossez senior and brought it with a bottle of wine to share with the Poidevins in their little kitchen. They made me promise to be careful.

In the morning the drizzle and wet turned to a proper storm and all flying was scrubbed. The forecast was poor and the Major granted me permission to leave for a couple of nights in Amiens. I got on a tender heading west around ten and marvelled at the signs of war all along the straight Roman road to Amiens – horses gathered in churchyards, tents crowded under the trees in every field. The road was quiet by day, but at night there was a constant rumble of wheels and neighing and cursing and singing as the machinery and men of war passed, heading eastward on their way to history. It was a glorious feeling to be driving in the opposite direction this wet morning.

I was let off at the Carlton, across from the station, and headed upstairs to spend a good hour in a warm bath. From there it was off to the Hôtel du Rhin for a lunch of oysters and the best omelette I have had or am ever likely to have. I shared a table with a young Scots staff officer who pointed out a fellow a couple of tables over as Bairnsfeather, the brilliant cartoonist (and also a staff officer). Jericho was about town somewhere, I knew, but I did not see him and to be honest was not in the mood for company. First on my list of things to do was to drop a bag of dirty wash off at a proper laundry for a good scrub and starch and then find a barber for a good haircut and shave. Then I visited the cathedral, sat in a park and fed ducks, watched a Chaplin film, and retired for a nap before dinner, awakening at eleven at night in time for a dinner of red wine and frites.

Afterwards, I closed the curtains against the rain and slept again.

#4470699 - 04/16/19 03:15 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Aleck A. MacKinlay

April 13 and 14, 1916: RFC-29 made the move to Abeele in foul rainy weather. Construction crews have been busy since I left, with an entire new set of wooden barracks and offices erected on the west side of the road across from RFC-6. Our canvas hangers came with us from St. Omer.

April 15: Before I could order our attack on the railyard. we were jumped by at least three Eindekkers. I ended up in a swirling go-round with two ... one tan and one green. They both flew well and aggressively and I could not get an advantage. It crossed my mind that I might be dueling Boelke and Immelman and in serious trouble. Suddenly the green machine broke off and headed east, diving for the protection of a balloon installation. I followed and fired bursts at closing range as tracers from the ground whistled by me. 'Turn and fight me' ... I didn't want to shoot him in the back ... but he bore straight on and my rounds found their mark. He spiraled into the ground. His tan friend was screaming in on my tail but was too slow to help. He too broke away and headed for the adjacent German airfield. It would be foolish to follow so I turned for home. James was suddenly there, having downed the third Eindekker in a one-one-one fight. and we flew home together.

So I killed a man today. It is a very weighty thing, a thing that seems lodged behind my heart and will probably stay there for the rest of my life. And yet it was necessary. This man was trying to kill me and in the heat of the fight I had no hesitation to pull the trigger. It's later that you feel it. I wish he had turned to fight ...


Last edited by 77_Scout; 04/16/19 03:43 PM.
#4470758 - 04/16/19 08:30 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe Offline
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Raine - I've said it before and I'll say it again. Your storytelling absolutely shines in the little details - the quiet moments between the carnage of the air war. How you can create such captivating stories when speaking of things so simple as a trip into town continues to astound me. You really get a feel for Collins as a character. Great stuff.

77_Scout - And so, the inevitable has occurred - MacKinlay has ended a life. I love the way you've described Aleck's reaction - sadness mixed with a sense of 'it had to be done'. It reads very much like a real-life memoir of a R.F.C pilot - Albert Ball's letters home and McCudden's memoirs spring to mind. I look forwards to more!


Sgt. James B. Fullard
Esc. N31
Ochey Aerodrome, France

1 Confirmed Victory.

April 16th, 1916.

Little Devienne’s cry rung out, piercing our ears as we lay, half-awake, in the easy haze of morning: “Bonnes nouvelles! C’est temps aéronautique!”. Cheers of happiness came from every room. Turning to me, Metayer said “But isn’t that rain I can hear on the roof?”. Smiling, I explained to him that when little Devienne says it’s flying weather, he means weather so bad that you can’t fly in it. Metayer seemed puzzled by the concept, a slight frown on his face as he pulled on his uniform.

I enjoyed the wonderful warmth of my bed for a few minutes more before begrudgingly rising and heading to the mess. As I walked through the corridor, I couldn’t help but smirk at the almighty rumbling sound coming from Ortoli and Lemoine’s room. As I stepped into the mess, Ortoli muttered “Tch! Do you hear that, Fullard? If wars could be won by snoring, there would not be a Bosche in France by nightfall!”. I bit back a laugh.

It wasn’t long before little Devienne retreated back to his cot for some extra shut-eye, leaving just Ortoli, Jensen, Metayer and I to enjoy our bowls of porridge, brought out by Georges and the cooks. Ortoli was excitedly telling us of the latest Nieuport scout, a faster equivalent of our N.11s with a more powerful engine, when an orderly I didn’t recognise quietly entered from outside. With an air of officialdom that made me wary, he slowly unbuttoned his greatcoat before clearing his throat softly and placing his hands behind his back. “Sergent Metayer, Sergent Fullard, Lieutenant Auger has requested your immediate presence”. Beside me, little Devienne whispered “That’s Auger’s orderly...you had better go along and see what the C.O. wants”.

We followed the orderly through the mud and rain of the Aerodrome to the small white building that acted as Auger’s office. Though the door we found a modest room, almost reminiscent of a dentist’s waiting room, in which sat a small and impeccably kept desk - assumedly belonging to the orderly. To the left of the desk was a solid oak door, also painted white, behind which awaited the C.O’ office. The orderly held the door open for us. Metayer promptly strode through, and I sheepishly followed. We both snapped to attention as the Lieutenant leaned back in his chair, looking critically over us with his piercing blue stare. His desk was solid and purpose-built. Little else apart from a telephone, a lamp, and a small stack of papers was on the desktop. In front of the desk sat three ornately-carved wooden chairs with blue velvet cushions.

“Gentlemen. Please, sit”. We obeyed. “I have good news for you both. Last night I telephoned the lines on your behalf, and inquired about any trace of your claims. It is with happiness and pride that I can now tell you that, Metayer, both your Fokkers have been found and confirmed. Fullard, the Bosche you burned was seen to fall in the middle of no-mans-land. It has also been confirmed. But, the army never saw your Fokker fall at St. Mihiel amid the fighting on the ground. May I offer my congratulations! It is rare that two pilots from the G.D.E score in their first week”. He stood up from the desk and held his hand out to us, and one by one we shook it. I was glowing with pride, but beside me Metayer wore his indifferent look. He seemed not to care one ounce that his victories had been confirmed. Even more astounding was the fact that he showed almost no reaction to hearing Auger’s news that he was to be awarded the Médaille Militaire, save for the appearance of his ghostly smile and the quiet response of “I am honoured”.

Back in the mess I found that the rest of the pilots had appeared from within their rooms, and in a state of excitement I told them the good news. With a red-faced grin, Lemoine boldly cried out “Pinard tonight, my boys! We must celebrate!”

Celebrate we did, and the wine flowed until we had to remain seated for dizziness (except for Metayer, who didn’t touch a drop). The only pilot among us able to retain his composure was Jensen, who seemed to have an impossible tolerance for alcohol. By the end of the night, as our uniforms hung unbuttoned and wine-stained off of our backs, Lemoine surprised us all by softly breaking into song. We fell silent as his voice rose from a quiet mumbling to an impassioned cry as, to the tune of Bonsoir M’amour, he told us of war, profiteering, death, damnation. The smiles faded from the men’s faces, and with a shaky Crescendo Lemoine reached an impossibly sad and beautiful refrain.

Adieu la vie, adieu l'amour
Adieu toutes les femmes
C'est bien fini, c'est pour toujours
De cette guerre infâme,

C'est à Lorette, sur le plateau
Qu'on a risqué sa peau
Nous étions tous condamnés
Nous étions sacrifiés


The last syllable hung in the air above our heads. There was no sound, save for the gentle tap-tap-tap of the rain on the Barracks roof. Lemoine smiled faintly to himself, taking a sip of wine. A single tear coursed down his cheek like an avion in its final vertical fall. “We used to sing that at Lorette” he said quietly, before he seemed to slip into reminiscing.

I glanced over at Metayer, who also seemed to have been cast into some distant memory. “We sung to the same tune” he said, barely audible, “Only, the words were different at Verdun”.




Last edited by Wulfe; 04/17/19 07:07 AM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
#4470768 - 04/16/19 09:34 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Wulfe]  
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77_Scout Offline
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Vancouver Island, Canada
Originally Posted by Wulfe
77_Scout - And so, the inevitable has occurred - MacKinlay has ended a life. I love the way you've described Aleck's reaction - sadness mixed with a sense of 'it had to be done'. It reads very much like a real-life memoir of a R.F.C pilot - Albert Ball's letters home and McCudden's memoirs spring to mind. I look forwards to more!


Thanks Wulfe. I really am not even attempting to reach the level of story telling you guys are demonstrating ... all the story lines are so, so good. I might be able to show half the imagination of you, Lou, Raine, MFair and Fullofit, but it would take me hours and severely strain my brain so I am keeping things brief! Enjoying the great reads every day!!

#4470787 - 04/16/19 11:19 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,504
Fullofit Online content
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Fullofit  Online Content
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Posts: 2,504
Ajax, ON
MFair, that’s a noble thing Jericho is doing, jugs or no jugs. I was looking into her eyes, by the way, honest. There’s one thing Jericho needs to know. It is nearly impossible to scratch his pubic area in his gauntlets and the rest of his flight gear when the crabs start to bite.
Wulfe, this Metayer fellow scares me. Seems like a coldblooded killer. Congrats on the confirmed victory. And it is a memorable one. We’ll make a Voscadeaux out of you yet!
Carrick, any chance Emile is planning an escape? Perhaps set the Stalag on fire to create a diversion? Good luck!
Raine, Gaston is just trying to do his job. Believe me, he doesn’t want to die, but in the heat of battle some rules may get forgotten. Looks like Collins is taking his friend’s departure pretty hard. And I’m sure the missing crews exacerbate his depressed state. I’m glad James is able to deal with all of this by keeping himself busy. Hopefully sunnier days are ahead.
Scout, that looked like one intense dogfight. Great video. Congrats on the victory even if it is at such a high psychological price. BTW, it takes me literally hours to write anything down. Hopefully you’ll continue to expand your range. Potential is definitely there.


"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."
#4470839 - 04/17/19 12:41 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
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RAF_Louvert Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
RAF_Louvert  Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Senior Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,616
L'Etoile du Nord
.

Wulfe, great stuff as always. Fullard is off to quite a good start with a confirmed victory already under his belt. That flamer was unnerving to be sure. To Metayer, I would start to wonder if the man isn't a sociopath given his total non-reaction to nearly everything.

Scout, a fine video and entry. I agree with Wulfe, it read very much like a diary entry of one of our RL counterparts.

Raine, it has been ridiculously soggy in our AO for the last week. Glad to see James has weathered it all in stride, too bad though about Lawley and Williams.

Carrick, looks like Emile will be sitting out the remainder of this war as a guest of the Kaiser. Here's to your next man.

MFair, there's little wonder what Jericho sees in the comely Camille. Hope she doesn't end up breaking Mark's heart.

Fullofit, Gaston needs to get himself some caution. Your man is going to get himself killed if he keeps going at it the way he is, perhaps this hospital stay will teach him to tread with a bit more care.

Hasse, congratulations on the first confirmed victory for Julius. Outstanding.


.


17 April, 1916
Candas, France
No.2 Aircraft Depot, R.F.C.
2nd Lt. Randolph Arvid Swanson, MC & Bar
12 confirmed victories

Yesterday, shortly past lunch, and after days of delay due to mechanical issues, rain, and wind, the mock battle between the captured Fokker and the Morane at last took place. 2nd Lt. Swanson and Captain Thomas could have flown it on the 15th but they were asked to wait until the following day as General Trenchard himself was coming to Candas to view the show. The Depot had received word from Captain Baring, the General's assistant, that the two of them would be flying in on the morning of the 16th. Swany was fairly nervous as he and dozens of other officers and men watched the pair of R.E.7s settle gently onto the north field at half past ten. Baring climbed down from the number 2 bus while the Depot Commander greeted General Trenchard as he deplaned from the lead ship. After the usual formalities and a cursory review of the troops the General asked to meet the men who would be flying. Swany made a concerted effort not to let his accent get the best of him and, when Trenchard wished him luck, responded with a clear, nearly untainted "Thank you General, I vill do my best to give a good accounting of the Morane".

Two hours later the Parasol and Eindecker were sitting side-by-side in front of one of the large Bessonneaus, each machine receiving a final once-over before lifting off. The Fokker was sporting recently painted roundels and rudder stripes to cover the numerous Hun markings as a precaution against any uninformed ground troops who might fire upon it thinking it to be an actual enemy ship. It had been agreed in advance that the two planes would climb to 3,000' and begin the trial directly above the group of hangars along the eastern edge of the depot. The Fokker was to come from slightly above and head-on at the Morane. It had further been determined that each would do his utmost to get their gun trained on the other at every opportunity. To this end Swany would be flying with a Lieutenant Robert Beckman who was to act as his G/O and man the Lewis. Of course neither craft would be armed, and all concerned would be on the honour system when it came to reporting any firing solutions each had managed throughout the engagement.

The signal was given and the trial commenced as Swany followed his opponent across the field and up into the blue, cloud-dotted skies. The rain was gone and the winds were very light, thankfully. After reaching altitude Thomas climbed away from Swanson, and at a thousand yards out swung around and came at the Morane as it circled over the field. Swany turned to face the incoming threat and when the two ships had closed to within 200 yards of each other the show began in earnest. AM Dirks, as promised, had checked over the engine on the Parasol and had it ticking over beautifully, and the riggers had trimmed out the kite just as Swany had asked them to; it responded as well as any Morane ever did. It was a wonderful thing to watch as the two opponents twisted and turned and rose and dove, each attempting to gain the upper hand. Captain Thomas was having a hell of a time getting any shots of worth on the Morane. Just when he thought he was about to have a good line on Swanson the man would flip the Parasol into a gyration that suddenly had it coming back along one flank or the other of the Eindecker, which would present Lieutenant Beckman with an opportunity to rake the side of the Hun craft. After about fifteen minutes of putting their respective kites through its best paces each pilot signaled the other and the exhibition was concluded. The two planes glided back down to the field where the fliers were congratulated on a fine display and where General Trenchard asked each man to give his report and assessment.

Captain Thomas stated that he had only managed four clear "shots" on his opponent, none of which would likely have hit anything vital, probably only venting some canvas a bit. He added that the Fokker was not much of plane to fly as it tended to want to stall out and was a bear to turn. Its only real advantages he could see were its forward firing gun and its slightly better speed.

Lieutenant Beckman, (who truth be told was looking a tad wobbly after the go-round), noted numerous occasions where his pilot had offered him excellent shots into the engine and cockpit of the Fokker, provided he was able to keep his wits about him after certain of the acrobatics. He'd no idea the Parasol could do some of things Swanson had made it do but added that once he was made aware of these maneuvers and could come to expect them it made for some fine shooting chances.

2nd Lieutenant Swanson then gave his thoughts on the affair, again doing his dam'dest not to let his Norsk accent creep in. He stated that while the Parasol was indeed a match for the Fokker, it was only so provided you had it tuned up as finely as you could, and provided you had a G/O that knew how to shoot and a pilot that knew how to handle his bus. Swany went on to say that he had serious doubts the Morane would have much chance at all against the next new kite the Huns introduced as said kite would surely be more nimble and speedier than the Eindecker. When that time came it would be a different story.

General Trenchard was most pleased, not only with the trial, but even more so with each man's honest opinions. He noted that he too was mindful of what the next new enemy plane might be, which was why the British aircraft designers were being ever-diligent to create superior buses for the King's airmen. "Not to worry men, you'll have the newest and best ships, and they'll beat whatever the Huns might be coming up with. You just keep doing your jobs the way you've just demonstrated. You make me proud of the R.F.C."

That evening Swany was informed that he could leave the depot in the morning and make his way to St. Omer. As he lay in his bunk, staring up at the unpainted ceiling boards of his billet, listening to the rain that had begun again, tapping against the window, he thought about what the General had said and hoped it would be true. They needed better planes, much better than the Morane. He thought about his friends James and Mark and the rest of the crew back at Number 3; if they were to stand a fighting chance up in the clouds they had to have new mounts before the Hun got theirs. He wondered about his own upcoming posting and what the planes there would be, supposedly some of the "newest and best". That would be a godsend, but of course he would fly whatever they gave him. That was his job.



Preparing for the show.
[Linked Image]

The merge.
[Linked Image]

Swany, with the advantage, gives Captain Thomas a wave.
[Linked Image]

Round and round they go.
[Linked Image]

Oh to have a forward-facing gun.
[Linked Image]

Wrapping things up.
[Linked Image]

.

NOTE: Trenchard and Baring actually did visit the Depot at Candas on the 16th to view a captured Eindecker, this being noted in Barings's ""Flying Corps Headquarters 1914-1918". A must-read, in my humble opinion.

.

#4470866 - 04/17/19 01:53 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2013
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loftyc Offline
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loftyc  Offline
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Posts: 348
16 April 1916
Sgt. Bud "Bert" Bogart
18th Sqd. RFC
Bruay aerodrome

Hello again; I introduced myself about a month or so ago and then proceeded into obscurity. The thing is, my Wing Commander says I'm not allowed to fly when it's regular or clear sunshine out, as that interferes with something called the TrackIR system. He wasn't able to tell me more about it; classified, I guess. Anyway, bottom line is I'm not getting much time in the air. However, ...

the squad started out on DH-2s, which I had a tough time taming. And then, I I finally got the hang of the ride, and the lay of the land, someone decided to change our mounts (to FE-2s) and our 'drome. Offhand, that smacks of German infiltration and espionage to me. So here we are at Bruay, which for navigation purposes may as well be in the middle of Kansas, for all I can tell. I'm gonna have a heck of a time finding my way back to here, I'll wager. But my biggest beef right now is the plane. Slower and less maneuverable than the DH-2. And then there's the gunner. Twice now, I've gotten dead behind a Hun, and my boy up front, a Capt. Bennet, just sits there! What's up with that?? I'm screaming for him to shoot, and he's just sitting there!! The first time, the Hun got behind us, and Bennet wouldn't use that special backwards gun, and so we got shot up pretty bad. Then, to boot, I managed to get down low over one of our balloons, figuring that they at least would scare him off, but they wouldn't shoot either!

After a few days in the hospital, we found one of those new Rolands the Germans got, and Capt. Bennet just sat there again. Cripes, I dang near rammed the Hun this time, and Bennet didn't even flinch. This time, I did manage to scare the Hun down low, only to get shot at by his infantry. Not much control left in the bus, so figured to put down in a field. And don't you know, right when I'm 50 or so feet above the ground, the real-life sun poked out of the clouds, flooded the room and the Trackir, I completely lost vision, and crashed (amazingly unharmed) .So, My gunner won't shoot, my infantry won't support me, the Sun is against me. Something's not right....

Is there something I need to do to get an AI gunner to shoot?

#4470924 - 04/17/19 08:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 5,253
carrick58 Offline
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carrick58  Offline
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Fullofit:


Not a Chance, Emile is in the bag. He was shipped off to Mannschaftslager Work Camp near Hameln, Germany.

#4470925 - 04/17/19 08:55 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
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carrick58 Offline
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carrick58  Offline
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Posts: 5,253
Keith Cunard Mallory
Sgt, Rfc
29 Sqn, Ablee AF.
DH-2's


April 17, 1916.

Myself and 3 other replacements came up from the Pilot Replacement Pool to Report in. We had a chance to watch a section taking off. Bloody Good show then I was assigned as Mess Sgt / Spare pilot for B Flight. I will be assigned a flying machine later.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-04-17 13-24-24-35.jpgCFS3 2019-04-17 13-26-29-89.jpgCFS3 2019-04-17 13-26-46-97.jpg
#4470933 - 04/17/19 11:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,627
MFair Offline
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MFair  Offline
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Posts: 2,627
Wulfe, You are not the first to be haunted by a burning airplane. Great story as always.
Raine, Stay out of trouble in Amiens. But without Jericho to look after, you should be fine.
Scout, I am humbled you include me with the stellar author's in this group but it does not come easy to me either. That being said, nothing wrong with brief. Great video. I thought those 2 might get the best of you for a moment.
Lou, What a fantastic story with the screen shots! Top notch and not a little work I would think. As for Jericho's broken heart, is there anyone who has not suffered from that at least once.
Lofty, Good to see you back. Unfortunately I cannot help with the gunner situation.
Carrick, Good luck with Mallory.
Fullofit, Crabs?! Be careful there Pard! You don't want to be insulting Jericho's girl! In all seriousness, better women than Camille have done worse in desperation. The prostitutes of the old west come to mind. Many were lured out west with the promise of fame and fortune only to find that the only way to survive was prostitution.

Lt. Mark Jericho,
All flights had been cancelled due to dud weather. Jericho had not had much time to think since moving to the new aerodrome but now it hit him how much he missed Swany. No more sing a longs with his fiddle or late night talks. He would miss the man and hoped their trails would cross again. Christian was a good sort but he came from a different world than Jericho. The only thing they had in common was fighting in the air. Christian was refined with perfect manners. Jericho could respect that in Christian as he knew that under the veneer of society stood a real man. Jericho had had his fill of the fancy pants type back at university in Mississippi. He knew most would run from a fight but not Christian. Christian seemed to enjoy stories of the old south in America and constantly prodded Jericho for information. As they listened to the rain Jericho had told him about his childhood in Mississippi. By the time the war of Northern Aggression ended it was very bad in the south. There was not much left but his father had been able to keep things going after the war and was making a pretty good living at farming. "So how is it that you ended up a cowboy in Texas" Christian asked. "Circumstances" Jericho replied. Christian looked at him, "Circumstances?" he asked. Jericho quickly changed the subject. "Did I ever tell you about Skillit?" Jericho asked.
"No, I don't believe you have old boy. Whatever Skillit is." Christian answered.
"Not a what! A who, dammitt." Jericho spit out.
Christian lit his pipe and sat back. "Well then, tell my about Skillit."
Jericho took a big gulp of coffee and rested the cup in his free hand. "Well, Skillit was a black fellow that worked for my father. Coming up my job was to help Skillit. A fine a man as there ever was. He would work you in the dirt too! But, he always made it fun. He taught me some gospel tunes and we would sing all day long while doing what needed to be done. That's where I learned to sing. He even taught me harmonies. Yep. He was one fine man.
Jericho talked for a while about the old farm until Christian asked again. "So tell me, if I am not being to bold, what were the circumstances that sent you to Texas."
Jericho looked at him for a while then said, "Your being a little bold Pard. But, if we live long enough, I'll tell you.

Note: Sandra Lorenzo Ratcliffe, aka "Skillit, was a real person. He worked for my father on the farm and during the summer my brother and I were his "helpers." He was and is one of the finest human beings I have had the pleasure of knowing. I was fortunate to attend his 100th birthday party this week. Though in a wheel chair he is still sharp and still had that big ever present smile. The least I can do is honor him in a story.


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!
#4470945 - 04/17/19 11:40 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2018
Posts: 293
Wulfe Offline
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Wulfe  Offline
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Posts: 293
Lou - great shots of the captured Fokker doing battle with Swany! And nice story about Trenchard. I'm sure Cpt. Thomas is glad he's not a Hun after duking it out with the R.F.C's Star Turn! But - more importantly - I am eagerly awaiting news of Swany's new posting - and his new bus!! I'll have to keep my eyes peeled for a copy of Flying Corps Headquarters 1914-1918.

loftyc - Trackir can be a real pain on a sunny day. Luckily your guardian angel was looking out for you this time! Graham A. Campbell (rest his soul) had trouble with Fee gunners sleeping on the job as well. Hopefully your observer wakes up for the next scrap! Looking forwards to hear more from Bert.

Carrick - sorry to hear about Emile. Rotten luck to be captured due to a dud engine. Best of luck with Keith - 29 Squadron's a good posting to get! I wonder if he'll bump into Aleck MacKinlay in the near future...

MFair
- Sounds like Jericho is going through a mixed bag of emotions at the moment. I'm glad to see that he can rely on Christian, though. Lovely vignette about Skillit. I hope he had a wonderful 100th(!!!) birthday.



Sgt. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N31,
Ochey Aerodrome, France.

April 17th, 1916.


We nursed our thunderous headaches over breakfast, listening to the rain as it continued its offensive of our roof. “I hope this rain lasts forever” Ortoli muttered, earning a grunt of approval from Lemoine. “Not me, I’m keen to get back up at the Bosche. But, man, not with this headache!” said little Devienne, one hand on his forehead as he slouched over the table. Lemoine smirked. “Emile Devienne: l'Enfant Ivre”.

Word had arrived from Michael. I found comfort in his familiar rough-edged handwriting as I read his letter. His Escadrille had been as affected by the weather as our own, and since his arrival he had only managed seven hours of flying. Being so close to Verdun, however, he had already seen his fair share of combats, and more than once had come back with his bus holed up by an unseen enemy.

‘I found it quite bizarre! One moment we were flying along peacefully, and the next minute I could taste the phosphor of the tracers in the air and I saw little holes appearing in my planes. I didn’t hang around to see who the culprit was, instead I threw my ship into all manner of mad twists and turns, looping and rolling around like the devil.

Before I knew what was what, the sky was totally empty! My patrol had vanished, and the bullets at my back had stopped, so I flew home on my own. The rest of the patrol landed ten minutes later and told me what had happened. We (or, rather, they) had mixed it up with three Fokkers. I didn’t even see any of the devils! Since then I have become more attentive in a scrap, and have even sent a Bosche running for home with smoke trailing from his engine.


Enough about me, though. How about you? Have you had your first scrap yet? I hope we both get leave at the same time so that we can catch up over a beer.

Miss you Kiddo,

Michael.


Excitedly I fetched paper and pen to write back, telling him of my encounters with the Bosche and the two planes I had downed. I also wrote of the fellows at my Escadrille, citing them as ‘as good a bunch as I could hope for’. Sealing the envelope, I stored it in my room, planning to leave it with Georges at suppertime.

As I walked back into the mess, which was heavy with boredom, Ortoli turned to me from the half-hearted card game that he, Lemoine, Chaput and little Devienne were playing. “Oh, Fullard, I meant to ask earlier. Have you heard about that Americain outfit that’s being assembled at Luxeuil? It turns out there’s quite the collection of Yanks in France, now!”. I looked at him in puzzlement. “American outfit? How do you mean?”.

As he explained, the Aeronautique Militaire was assembling an Escadrille specifically for American airmen. The unit would be staffed by French Officers and be led by a French C.O, and would be flying old hand-me-down Nieuport 10s. As it turned out, Dr. Edmund L. Gros, whom Michael and I had encountered in Paris when we had volunteered, had a hand in the creation of the unit. In truth, I had feared the encounter - for my mother, by a bizarre twist, was a friend of Madame Gros, the Doctor's mother. Madame Gros was, as rumour stated, the most beautiful woman in all of San Francisco, and the de-facto 'queen' of the French Colony there. Michael and I had feared that Dr. Gros may send us back home owing to the family connection.

“Do you think they’ll offer you a spot?” Ortoli asked. “Well, maybe! I’m not sure! But, imagine that, an Escadrille of Americans!” I responded, “Oh! Maybe Michael will be given a place as well!”. Ortoli raised an eyebrow. “qui?”. “Oh - my brother. He’s a pilot, too”. “Ah, mais oui. You’ve said before”.

“ɪ ᴡᴏɴᴅᴇʀ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇʏ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴀssᴇᴍʙʟᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴀɴɪsʜ ᴇsᴄᴀᴅʀɪʟʟᴇ” Jensen pondered. Little Devienne, who had been half-listening, bit back a grin. “A whole Escadrille of Vikings? But you must be the only Danish pilote in all of France!”.

Over dinner, we discussed the rumours of a British push at the Somme - a move that would alleviate the pressure off of Verdun. “Hopefully all the air Bosches are whisked away when the English make their offensive. It would be a nice rest for us!” Lemoine ventured, taking a swig from his ever-faithful hip flask. Chaput shrugged. “No concern to me either way. Those Fokkers can’t hold a candle to our coucous”. Devienne added that if two brand-new pilots such as Metayer and myself can bring down two Fokkers each in a day, we scarcely had any reason to worry where the Bosches were on the lines.

We retired early that night, trying to escape the boredom of another flightless day through sleep. I lay awake in my cot for a while, thinking of the American Escadrille at Luxeuil.

Last edited by Wulfe; 04/18/19 02:14 PM.

Aircraft Profiles of the Deep Immersion DiD Campaign: http://simhq.com/forum/ubbthreads.p...deep-immersion-did-challenge#Post4468813
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