Whoa Lou! More bling for Gaston. He will definitely have to get a new plane with a more powerful engine to haul those medals around. Do you keep track of all those awards, because I’ve lost count? Thank you. Also, congratulations to Wulfe for receiving a new decoration. Way to go!
"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."
#4475563 - 05/27/1912:27 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 3,406Fullofit
26 May, 1916 06:05 morning mission Senard, Verdun Sector Escadrille N37 Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux 30 confirmed kills
All three latest claims have been confirmed. 30 is a nice round number. Gaston should get a medal from Anthony Fokker for making him rich.
This morning their patrol took the ‘B’ flight over the enemy aerodrome of Tichemon. They found two Aviatiks circling over the 'drome. Gaston was ready to fire at his target when shots ripped through the canvas of his wings. “- Merde! Who's shooting?” Bloody Vouillermoz was taking pot shots THROUGH Gaston! "- Quel imbecile!" Voscadeaux disengaged and observed his wingmen. Adjutant Barnay shot one Aviatik down right away, but then also had to disengage, leaving Vouillermoz on his own. The Sous-Lieutenant lost his nerve and started to weave to evade any return fire. Gaston reengaged and took a shot, but the moron flew right in front of him, spoiling his approach. He had to go around again. Gaston made another pass and took the Boche out with one burst. He spiraled down crashing near a forest close to the aerodrome. The two airmen returned promptly to base. Gaston had daggers in his eyes. He will have to watch his back closely with this one.
Line patrol NW of Senard was assigned for Gaston’s afternoon mission. He and Vouillermoz encountered three Eindeckers on the French side. Gaston gave chase and two monoplanes turned to face the French Ace, while the third one bolted for the front lines. Voscadeaux was weary of S.Lt. Vouillermoz attempting to shoot him in the back again, but the man was a coward. As soon as the Fokkers showed up, he deserted Gaston and ran for the nearest airfield. Gaston preferred it this way. At least he won't have to worry about getting his back perforated by friendly fire. The two Fokkers converged on Gaston and a mad turning contest was in full swing. The pair tried to coordinate their efforts, but as soon as Voscadeaux swung his Nieuport on the tail of one of the Boche pilots, he lost his cool and dove for safety. Gaston let him go and remained high with the other monoplane. The man had some skill and was able to dive away when things went sour, but Violette was easily able to keep up and eventually shot the Hun out of control to crash below. Once back at the airfield, Vouillermoz tried to make up an excuse of an engine failure but Gaston wasn't interested. He was less than impressed and was glad his regular wingman, S.Lt. Japy will return to duty tomorrow.
"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."
#4475609 - 05/27/1901:40 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Nice stories Gents! I"m glad to see all are still alive. Lou, thank you for the awards to our deserving flyers.
Lt. Mark A. Jericho May 27, 1916
Todays missions were uneventful. Bomb Athies Junction and a recon of the area west of Cappy. I have yet another observer. 2nd. Lt. Gomm. Why the Major is set on saddling me with new gunners is beyond me. He has experience but is a quiet sort. Yesterday had been a bad day. We were doing a recon west of Fricourt with one Nieuport escort. All was well when I spotted 2 biplanes diving in from above. The Nieuport broke off to attack. I was very confused! What were these machines? Aviatticks do not attack. As they flew past I saw the black crosses on their wings. Rolands! I had heard of these machines but this was my first encounter with one. Advice had been to "avoid at all costs!" A little too late for that I thought. They were fast! I juked all over the sky trying to avoid the one that stayed on us. Our only saving grace was that we were an experienced flight and it was 3 on 1. Soon he was nowhere to be seen and I called off the show and we headed for home. Griffen was no where to be seen. All the way back to the aerodrome I wondered if he had gone west. Arriving over home I saw Griffens machine on the field. My relief was short lived as I could see men pulling his observer out of his compartment. It was Phillips, my last observer. He was dead. He did not die without a fight though. They had brought down one of the Rolands.
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!
#4475633 - 05/27/1903:38 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Solo Patrol near Loos: Over the lines , I spotted and chased a Recon machine ( a Blue color ) I made 2 passes getting off 1 full drum then I took 4 hits abut the tail found the machine would barely go up and down. ,but turned ok. looking around, it appeared that ripped fabric had twisted around the cable ( elevator ). I arrived over our field and cut power to see what glide angle to use for landing. after try # 4 I went dead stick on the aerodrome touching the wheels in the center of the field and stopped just in front of the end Fence.
#4475647 - 05/27/1904:30 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Carrick, it was fortunate that Keith was able to get his mount down on the ground in one piece after his last encounter. Losing elevator control can be a real ender.
MFair, Jericho and his crew most certainly had their hands full with those Rolands. There is no good way to go up against them. Condolences on the loss of Phillips.
Fullofit, Gaston should consider taking Vouillermoz into a dark alley somewhere and leaving him there. With wingmen like that who needs the Hun?
27 May, 1916 Fienvillers, France 70 Squadron, R.F.C. Lt. Randolph Arvid Swanson, MC & Bar, CdG 12 confirmed victories, 1 pending claim
After three days of rain at their new digs in Fienvillers Lieutenants Swanson and Dent flew their very first combat mission today in the Strutter, and what a fantastic treat it was! The new plane surely beats everything else currently in the skies above the front, hands down.
Shortly after breakfast Swany had been tasked to lead an offensive patrol across to Beaumont-Hamel. Three Strutters of A Flight, (in fact the only flight of 70 Squadron currently in France due to the continued aircraft shortages), lifted up into a beautiful late-spring sky. The young Minnesotan was feeling particularly proud of his own mount as it sported the new livery he'd come up with: a white swan emblazoned on crossed swords over a squared version of the flag of Norway. He'd also had the engine cowl painted in the same orange-red as the flag background, and had added a large white 'S' ahead of the roundels on the fuselage. Upon seeing all of this Lieutenant Dent had stated, "Well, isn't that spiffing, but what about me? Do I not rate any representation on this new bus of ours? You could at least give me my county's crest below my office, or is that too much to ask", the G/O had chided. Swany laughed and agreed, and a short while later a diminutive version of the blue shield and six yellow martlets of County Sussex had been added to the rig just under the rear cockpit. When asked if he approved, Chris chuckled, "Yes, that's very nice, but you should have made them smaller".
As the Sopwiths approached the mud they were met by a trio of Eindeckers who, upon seeing the new British mounts, immediately turned tail for home. But it was a futile move as the Strutters quickly caught them up over Bapaume. The Hun realized the situation and turned to fight, which was really their only option, poor as it was. Swany and Chris went after the leader, who was turning tightly in an attempt to get on the tail of one of the other Sopwiths. Swany began a short-lived game of cat and mouse with the poor Hun pilot, who hadn't a snowball's chance in hell of escaping. The Strutter could easily turn with the Fokker and could out-climb and outpace it in the process. In a few short moments Swany had lined up on the fleeing Hun and for the first time in his career was able to fire on his prey. He watched with great satisfaction as the bullets from his forward-facing Vickers ripped through the wing of the Eindecker, which immediately spiraled down in an effort to escape. Swanson dove to follow and as soon as the Hun straightened out to fly away Lieutenant Dent took his turn, banging away with the Lewis gun. Again the Hun tried to escape, and again Swany brought the Sopwith to bear on him and lined up for another volley, this time seeing his fire land directly in the cockpit of the beaten Hun ship. The Eindecker went into a lazy tumble that lasted all the way to the ground. Having baptized their Strutter with its first victory, Swany turned back to the west and headed for home, passing an enemy observation balloon that was swaying gently in the morning breeze some distance to the south. For a moment he thought about giving it a go, but decided discretion was likely the better part of valor. Besides, Archie was getting their range and he didn't want to give them more time to zero in.
Upon their return to Fienvillers Swany and Chris made their reports and cheerily talked with the rest of their flight about the fantastic success they'd all just enjoyed as the other two crews each had a claim as well. These new Sopwiths were the bee's knees!
The Sopwith Strutter belonging to the team of Swanson and Dent.
A proper cockpit.
A soon-to-be doomed enemy.
Absolutely no chance of escape.
The G/O takes his turn.
Swany delivers the coup de gras.
The long, slow fall.
A tempting target, but one best left for another day.
#4475721 - 05/28/1912:16 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 3,406Fullofit
MFair, Rolands make my skin crawl. They’re not supposed to be this good. I’m glad you survived your first encounter. Carrick, damaged crate is never fun to land. Good thing Keith kept his cool. Lou, finally in the thick of it. It’s payback time. Must have been a shock to that Hun in his tub. It’s almost unfair. There will be a lot of empty chairs on the German side soon. And I am envious of all those shiny dials in that Strutter office. Congrats on another victory.
27 May, 1916 06:35 morning mission Senard, Verdun Sector Escadrille N37 Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux 32 confirmed kills
The two claims from yesterday have been confirmed and Gaston was glad to have Japy back on his wing.
The morning patrol took the ‘B’ flight over St. Mihiel. It was a lucky day for Gaston. They’ve encountered three Fokkers flying low over the patrol area. The ‘B’ flight dove down and engaged. One of the Eindeckers was able to fire on Gaston but as Voscadeaux turned the attacker rammed into his flight mate who was also trying to pounce on Violette. He went down in a column of black smoke. Second Eindecker was hit and spun out of control all the way to the ground beside the first smoking crater. The third tried to drag Gaston over the trenches. Gaston received small arms fire but stuck to his prey and brought him down in a unrecoverable spin at low altitude. The three columns of smoke rising from the clearing between the Amblonville and Souilly Forests marked Violette's latest victims. After returning back home the armorers counted only 30 spent rounds.
I will be away for a few days, so I've allowed myself to fly one day ahead in order not to fall behind too far.
28 May, 1916 04:10 morning mission Senard, Verdun Sector Escadrille N37 Capitaine Gaston A. Voscadeaux 33 confirmed kills
Only one of the Fokkers was confirmed. There was too much confusion who was shooting at whom to confirm the first one. Only the low level Eindecker was properly witnessed by Japy.
Gaston and his flight encountered three Eindeckers over Stenay aerodrome. During the battle, Gaston was able to shoot one down in flames and pretty much cripple the second one before running out of ammo. Japy finished him off and the third one fell to de Geuser's guns. With the Fokker threat removed the ‘B’ flight returned to base.
Woah, plenty to catch up on! But, now I am (almost) all caught up. I've never been so thankful for the bad weather, which allowed me to get a large chunk of the time I'd missed back. Only two days behind now!
A heartfelt thank you to Lou for the Medaille Militaire - I shall wear it proudly. Fullofit - Congratulations on more Bananes, well-earned! I belive that's now a Legion D'Honneur Chevalier, Croix de Guerre with 4 palmes and now the British MC. Quite a haul! Gaston already has quite the chestful of ribbons, I wonder just how many he'll have this time next year...
I see Gaston's had his first encounter with a 'Wolfish" - and shot it down. Just what we can expect from the darling of France. But keep your eyes out for that Voullermoz fellow...he may just be more dangerous than the Wheelfish...on a happier note, 33 victories now! That's quite something!
Lou - the long-awaited return of Swany to the front! I'm immensely jealous of your new mount, and the livery looks great. Looks like that poor Eindecker had no idea what hit him, and I couldn't help but chuckle at both the pilot and the observer getting stuck in to the poor helpless monoplane. Target practice! No doubt Swany won't waste any time in getting back into his old scoring ways.
MFair - So Jericho was next in line to meet the dreaded Roland...and in a Morane, no less...great work staving the Bosche off. Shame about Phillips, though...glad to hear he added one more victory to his list before the Hun got him.
Apologies if I've missed anybody!
Sgt. James B. Fullard, Escadrille N.31, Ochey Aerodrome, France.
May 26th 1916:
Standing beside what remained of N.676, Thierry’s disgust was evident. He stood, cigarette in hand, shaking his head with a vicious look in his eyes. “Fullard, tu Salaud...how in the name of god do you expect me to fix her? This poor little coucou has flown her last!”. I couldn’t bring myself to look my mechanic in the eye. “I know it’s bad, Thierry, but she’s a fighter. She stayed in the air in that state, and she got me down safe! I owe it to her to at least try to fix her”. Thierry scoffed. “Fix her? Do you hear that, Souris? Fullard’s going to fix her! We have the day off!”.
I let out a deep sigh. “Look. Name your price. Anything you want, food, drink, money...just name it. Please, Thierry, Souris, try and fix her. If anyone can do it, it’s you two”. Thierry let out an exasperated sigh and scratched behind his ear. “Dammit, Fullard. Dammit. Fine. You’re lucky I like you. But don’t expect her to be flying anytime soon. She’ll need a new engine, a new wing, and a lot of replaced fabric”. My face lit up. “Thank you, Thierry! I owe you one!”. As I turned to leave, Thierry called my name again. I turned to face him.
“A rudder. That’s what it’ll cost you”. “...er, what do you mean?” “I want a Bosche’s rudder to decorate the wall. Aviatik or Eindecker, your choice. But that’s the price”. “Done”.
The next morning we were afforded a gloriously long lie, and Georges didn’t call on us until 7 O’Clock. When we stepped into the mess, we were surprised at the presence of de Villeneuve, his face grave and serious. A moment later, Devienne appeared from the hallway behind us, with Georges in tow. “Gentlemen. Have a seat. Today’s mission is an important one”.
Anxiously we seated ourselves. Since my arrival at the Escadrille, I had yet to see the C.O. personally call upon us to relay his instruction. I shot Devienne a nervous glance, and he gave me a subtle shrug in return. I don’t know either. Clearing his throat de Villeneuve laid flat a map of the front before us. “The Bosche have been moving aeroplanes to the front via the Metz spurline junction. For that reason, it has fallen to us to destroy the junction. Make no mistake, this mission will be very dangerous. You will be flying low behind enemy lines. You must remain vigilant! Fullard, I’m tasking you with leading the attack”.
I went cold. “Me? Sir, I -” de Villeneuve silenced me with a wave of his hand. “Seeing as your own machine is undergoing repairs, you are to take Sergent Chaput’s Nieuport. You will gather on the flight line at 0800. That is all”. Promptly folding the map away into a pocket, de Villeneuve made for the door, pausing to quickly wish us good luck before stepping out into the aerodrome. We sat in silence for a few moments, looking at each other with dumbfounded expressions.
At 8 AM, we gathered on the flight line. Chaput’s machine, and its two mechanics, made their final checks as I stepped into the machine, before swinging my prop. I watched as one of the mechanics rushed to attach two streamers to my struts, then turned to my flight, whose engines were idling in harmony with my own. As I had seen Jensen and Ortoli do many times before, I waved my chocks away, signalled to Devienne and Quinchez that I was taking off, and pushed the throttle forwards.
As our balloon line came into view, I looked back at my flight and signalled them to tighten up our formation. I scanned the skies ahead for signs of German aeroplanes - once we started our attack on the Junction, any formations of Germans we missed would be able to surprise us. Quinchez occupied my thoughts - he was far too inexperienced for this kind of work.
We crossed the lines. Scanning the ground below and looking over my map, I looked downwards for the Junction, feeling my nerves becoming more strained. As we approached the Junction, my blood ran cold. Below and ahead of us was a large German aerodrome. From within a long line of hangars poked the noses of Fokkers and Aviatiks, and opposite them was a huge hangar unlike anything I had seen. I tensed up, awaiting the inevitable barrage of anti-aircraft fire. I then noticed two machines on the German flight line. I strained my eyes, and my blood seemed to stop in my veins. They were Rolands.
Past the aerodrome was Loos Spurline Junction. I pushed my Nieuport into a dive, rocking my wings to my flight. Quickly, I urged my flight in my head, Let’s hit that junction and get the hell out of here before those Rolands get off the ground!
We descended at terrifying speed, fanning out our formation for our strafing attacks. I first fired a long burst into a building, watching as tiles rained down from the roof and shards of shattered glass showered onto the ground below. Suddenly the railyard was a mass of grey specks, running wildly to the numerous machine-gun nests. As I overflew the railyard, there was a hail of tracer all around us, an unbelievable amount of bullets being thrown our way. Despite my fear, I circled for a second attack.
Again and again we strafed the boxcars and buildings, and each time our bullets seemed more ineffective than the last. After the fourth strafing attack, I fired the flare signalling the end of the attack. To continue was insanity. Flying out towards the lines, I looked back anxiously for my flight. As I looked over my shoulder, I saw three holes in the fuselage, not an inch from my back.
As first Quinchez’ Nieuport appeared, and then Devienne’s, I breathed a sigh of relief. We climbed back towards the lines, keeping our eyes peeled for vengeful German aeroplanes. As I looked back, I saw a flight of three Fokkers high, circling over the railyard. Upon our return to Ochey, I tiredly stepped down from Chaput’s Nieuport and went to make my report. For the next six days, the rain returned with a vengeance, and we enjoyed a much-needed rest from combat flying. I wrote Michael, and Andrew, telling them of the railyard attack. Of my fifth victory. I asked Michael of the Escadrille Americaine, whether or not they had a full complement of pilots. Then, to my shock, on the morning of the 24th I was called to de Villeneuve’s office, and presented the Medaille Militaire. That night Lemoine organised a binge in my honor, and we awoke the next day with thunderous headaches. Devienne’s call of “Temps Aeronautique” was never so well-received.
Our time off came to an abrupt end on the morning of the 25th. The rain still poured, but de Villeneuve deemed the weather to be acceptable. Before first light, the pilots of the dawn patrol were roused, myself included. We sat down for cocoa and buttered toast in the mess. Our mission was artillery spotting over the front. As we ate, Quinchez nudged me, a grin on his face. “Hey, Fullard! Think we’ll get another chance at the Bosche today? I’ve been just waiting for them to show their faces again ever since we gave that Aviatik a hiding”. I shrugged. “We don’t usually see Bosches this early. Maybe a stray Aviatik, but I wouldn’t count on it”. Across the table, Ortoli laughed. “These green pilotes, so eager for the fight! Don’t worry, Quinchez, one or two scraps with some proper Bosche pilots will knock that attitude out of you!”.
We finished our breakfasts and made our way to our lockers, to retrieve our flying gear. As I did so, I was intercepted by Thierry, a smug smile on his face. “Fullard. Are you going over the lines today?”. I nodded. “Good! Well, you can get me that rudder then”. My eyes widened in realisation, and Thierry couldn’t fight back his grin. “That’s right - she’s done. Et Voila!”. As he said the words, he pointed to the machine that sat at the rear of the hangar - my machine.
With my mouth agape, I looked over my Nieuport. She was in a sorry state. The upper wings had large sections of re-fabriced linen, mismatched in colour from the original fabric. A new Vee-strut connected the left planes. The cowling had been replaced, and underneath it sat a new engine. However, most noticeable of all was the replaced wing, which had been painted in a brown and green camouflage. “Engines and fabric are more easily replaceable than entire wings. This one was originally intended to replace the wing of some machine or other in another Escadrille, but the airframe was written off instead. A friend of mines at Senard tipped me off, and I sent Pierre in a truck to pick it up. Your little coucou may look….unusual...but she’ll fly. Speaking of, we’d better wheel her out to the flight line”.
On the flight line, Ortoli was in fits of laughter. “Mon Dieu! Fullard, you’re going to fly that?! Well, it was nice to have met you, mon ami! Can I have your flying coat after it falls apart in flight?”. Beside him, Jensen shook his head with an air of distaste. Even Quinchez was trying to mask a smirk at the sight of my battered old machine, but I didn’t care. For an unexplainable reason, the machine had become very important to me, and I was simply glad that Thierry, the miracle worker, had brought her back from the edge of death.
Once my colleagues had exhausted their amusement at my machine, we climbed aboard our Nieuports and Ortoli led us into the sky. The weather was miserable, and in moments we were soaked to the bone. Nonetheless, we pushed on towards the lines.The artillery spotting itself was uneventful, but over Pont-a-Mousson we sighted two Fokkers, returning to their own lines. Immediately we dove towards the Germans, with one turning tail upon sighting us. The other, however, pointed his nose straight upwards at me, firing an inaccurate, but defiant, burst.
We circled together, but every time I got behind the Bosche he snaked out my guns, rolling onto his back and half-looping away. After three repetitions of his trick, I realised we were descending further and further, right above the German trenches and the awaiting machine-guns and rifles. I decided to fly back towards my own lines, watching closely to see if the Bosche would follow. To my excitement, he did. Once we were over neutral ground, I could chase him as low as I liked.
It was then that I realised we were alone. No sign of the other Fokker, or my three wingmen. Once we were well clear of the German lines, I swung around, and our private duel commenced.
The German’s flying was wonderful. At first we circled, each keeping pace with the other until I pulled the stick hard, tightening my turn. No sooner had I brought my gun to bear when the German expertly danced away under my nose. I followed in a dive, but there was no trace of the Eindecker. Suddenly, to my alarm, tracer flew past my right wingtips, and instinctively I broke away to the left, turning to see the German monoplane firmly affixed to my tail. Using the Nieuport’s climb, I zoomed upward and out of the Fokker’s guns, before banking over and diving back down on his tail. We entered in a series of turns, reversals, loops, slips, rolls, neither of us having so much as a chance at the other, until eventually the German straightened out and made a bid for home. Immediately I settled my sights on his tail and pulled the trigger, and the Eindecker shuddered gracefully, before slowly rolling onto its back and falling vertically towards earth.
As soon as I had pulled the trigger, I felt regret for the German flyer who had displayed such skill. Until then, I had never known a Fokker to be such a threatening opponent. As I turned for home, scanning the skies for any sign of my flight, I vowed to drink to the memory of the German that night. The thought was quickly replaced, however, by the realisation that if I had led the German further into our own lines, I could have salvaged his rudder for Thierry.
I was the second to arrive back at Ochey, after Ortoli. Joining him in the mess and removing my soaked-through tunic, I asked him where the others were. He looked at me, his face grave.
“We left you to get your man, and followed the other Eindecker. He dove down to ground level with Quinchez in tow”. “What? Down into the Bosche trenches? The idiot!” “I’ve told the damned hothead never to do that. I’ve told him”. “Well? What happened?”
Ortoli didn’t answer. He wore a tired expression. Lemoine entered from the hallway, immediately picking up on the mood. Slowly pulling up a chair, he turned to Ortoli.
“Who did you lose?” “...Quinchez. I saw him crash just ahead of the Bosche lines. But he got his Fokker before he went down”. “Merde. Poor Quinchez. He was a good sort”.
I felt a nausea creeping up into my throat. “Why couldn’t he have been more careful?” I asked weakly. Lemoine gave me a sympathetic look, and uttered “C’est la Guerre, my friend. It’s a horrible thing”. He offered up his hip flask and I took a swig, passing it back to him. As I did, we heard Jensen’s Nieuport landing on the aerodrome.
After changing into dry clothes, I made my way to the C.O’s building to write my report. There was a knot in my stomach that night as I entered my room, seeing Quinchez’ bed neatly made and unoccupied, the letter he had begun to write to his sweetheart resting on the pillow. I felt ill at the thought of Georges’ arrival tomorrow, to erase any trace of my roommate. Just as I was settling in for the night, Georges arrived to inform me that my Fokker claim had been rejected.
Last edited by Wulfe; 05/28/1912:49 PM.
#4475784 - 05/28/1901:20 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Fullofit, glad to hear your regular wingman is back. I don't think the Fokker factory can replace them as fast as you shoot them down. Lou, that is one fine looking machine. I'll take one just like it! Wulfe, Another gripping account Sir! Top notch stuff. I hate railyard attacks.
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!
#4475800 - 05/28/1904:01 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: May 2012 Posts: 4,670RAF_Louvert
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Wulfe, that was a close one indeed. A few inches farther forward and Sgt. Fullard would have been receiving les Croix de Bois. As to the Médaille Militaire, it is an unusual award in that it can only be given to NCOs as a valor award or long service medal, or to generals or admirals who have served as commanders-in-chief as a supreme award for leadership. Officers do not qualify for it.
Fullofit, Gaston just continues to drive up his score. The man really is a wonder.
28 May, 1916 Fienvillers, France 70 Squadron, R.F.C. Lt. Randolph Arvid Swanson, MC & Bar, CdG 12 confirmed victories
"Denied due to lack of visual confirmation" was the official word handed down on two of the three claims put in yesterday by A Flight. The only claim awarded was that submitted by Lt. Phillip Knight and his G/O, Lt. Collin Hull. While Swany wasn't sure how the others felt about it, he didn't care one whit about having his claim rejected, he was simply glad to now be flying a bus that could run rings round the Hun. He had his second opportunity to take the Strutter up over the lines during this morning's patrol, which turned out to be nothing more than a tour of the front. Not a single enemy plane was seen, and Archie was very light, so the entire crew was allowed to enjoy the outing without interruption or concern.
After landing and turning in his report, and after a brief conversation with the CO, Lt. Swanson took a stroll into town to inquire about rooms that might be available. He'd decided he would like to try living somewhere other than in camp as he'd been doing that since coming over in January. Not that the officers' billets weren't fine, (they were), he just wanted to have a go at the local housing for a change. After some checking about he was directed to head along the Rue de la Gare to the east and look for a large old two-story house with cream-colored stucco and a russet tile roof. The woman there had been renting out nice, tidy rooms since the war began, and at a fair price.
A short walk later and Swany located the described estate. It sat on the north side of the road just passed the rail line near the edge of Candas, and it was a lovely old building despite showing its age. After knocking at the door several times a small, elderly woman answered. Her face was stern and she seemed annoyed that whatever she'd been doing had been interrupted. She smoothed her dark grey hair with a wrinkled hand as she looked Lt. Swanson up and down, her sharp brown eyes taking him in. She noted the wings sewn neatly on his tunic and seemed thoroughly unimpressed; equally so by the Military Cross with silver rosette above them. However, upon spying the ribbon of the Croix de Guerre her face beamed.
"Aaah, you have been presented one of our high honors, you must be a very brave young man", the woman proclaimed. "I am Madame Corcelles. And you are?"
"Lieutenant Randolph Swanson, from the RFC camp up the road", Swany responded in his best French.
"Well of course you're from the RFC camp up the road, where else would you be from? And I imagine you are here about a room, yes?"
"Yes madame, I am. I was told you have some of the nicest rooms available in the area and offer them at a price that is most affordable."
"Some of the nicest!?" The woman was taken aback. "I have THE nicest rooms anywhere and you would be lucky to have one at any price."
"Apologies madame, I did not mean to offend, I was only repeating what I was told in town", Swany replied with a sheepish grin on his face. He had come to the immediate conclusion that this woman tolerated very little.
"Yes, well, that's fine - no need to apologize - how would you know. But once you see the rooms, THEN you'll know. Come with me." The woman grabbed the Lieutenant's hand and practically dragged him through the doorway. Swany was surprised at just how strong she was, given her apparent age and diminutive stature.
A short while later, after a tour of the estate and a showing of the rooms, Mme Corcelles announced that an accommodation was available and that Swany could take it, provided he would be a clean, quiet tenant, and pay his bill on time. With that an agreement was reached and the Lieutenant was given a wonderful little second floor apartment on the corner facing the rail line and the street. The negotiated price included breakfast, and if he also wanted supper that could be had for an additional five francs a week.
After Swany had paid the first two weeks in advance, the Madame presented her newest renter his room key, then, in no uncertain terms, outlined the rules of the house. "There is to be no food preparation of any kind in the rooms. If you choose to smoke you may do so in the parlor or outside in the garden, and NOWHERE ELSE. You may not have women up in your room, EVER. You will entertain guests only in the parlor or the garden, and only until 9:30 pm. You will be very quiet when rising, and as I know you will likely be up early on occasion to go off and do your flying I will have a cold breakfast set out if you wish to take it. Otherwise, hot breakfast is served between 7:30 and 9:00 every morning. If you choose to join us for supper, it is served promptly at 7:00 pm. You will be sure your boots are clean before entering my house, there is a scraper and a brush outside each door. Please be out of your room between 10:00 and 11:00 in the morning as that is when cleaning and tidying is done. Do you understand these rules?"
Swany assured Mme Corcelles that he most certainly did.
"Good. I am sure you will find it very pleasant here Lieutenant, and you will soon discover that I am a very fine hostess. I take great pride in my establishment." The women grabbed Swany's hand for the second time since their meeting and shook it firmly as she added, "It will be a pleasure to have a hero such as yourself staying with us. And remember, rent is due on Monday every week, no exceptions."
Swany chuckled to himself a fair portion of the way back to camp as he thought about his new landlady. The woman was a real pistol, of that he had no doubt.
#4475830 - 05/28/1907:50 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Dawn Patrol : Bounced 2 Recon types on our side of the lines . They split up 1 to the East the other West, our flight of 5 packed on the one going East. Top cover made a firing pass ( 2 a/c ) then my section , I fired Two 8 rd strings and came back around. My 2 other a/c closed and scored Black smoke puked out and she went over in a nose dive going full speed as the wings came off. Total : 1 kill for 2 a/c damaged.
Afternoon defensive Patrol: Our 3 machines engaged 2 Recon types in our local flying area. Tubby Long, got both. I came up under 1 e/a and as I stalled the Gunner hit my kite with 2 packets of fire. I recovered control ,but my machine just wobbled all over the sky so eased off power and headed home. counted 12 hits close together right wing fabric was shed ed near the Roundel. Score 2 destroyed for 2 damaged. + 1 Missing Dh 2 never saw what happened to Lt Russ.
Sqn Status: 9 a/c left of 14. Pilots : 7
Last edited by carrick58; 05/28/1907:53 PM.
#4475874 - 05/28/1911:38 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)