Subject Lost pilots: A report by the Commander 4th Hussers wishes u informed that 2 of ur a/c came down near his forward positions. One crashed and the Pilot Sgt Short was buried the other was shot down and made a forced landing , and was seen running away. . However, rest assured that we will find him
Henri de Grossie, Col, 1st Bde 4th Hussers
#4476405 - 06/02/1904:28 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Jericho's Morane bounced a few times before it came to a stop at the end of the field. After switching off he laid his head back and closed his eyes. He could still see Jenkins observer falling like a torch from the burning Morane. "You OK?" asked Gomm, his gunner. Jericho sat up and pulled himself upright and stepped out of the machine. He pulled his leather helmet and flying coat off. "Yea, I'm OK" he answered. Gomm climbed out from the rear seat and joined his pilot on the ground. Arnold's Morane was coming to a stop not far from them. Arnold and his gunner jumped out and ran over to Jericho and Gomm. Arnold was the first to speak. "Did you see what happened?! Did they make it?" Jericho turned to him like a Rattlesnake. "Hell no they didn't make it!" he said. At that he grabbed his coat and helmet and walked swiftly to debrief.
After dinner Jericho was on his cot when Richard's, his old gunner and now hut mate entered. "Heard you had some bad luck today old boy" he said without looking at Jericho. Jericho didn't say anything for a minute then spoke up. "My lucks fine Pard. That poor son of a B#@ch Jenkins and his gunner had a barrel full of bad luck." Richards sat down on his cot and poured himself a drink. "Want one ol boy?" He asked.
"No thanks Pard. It would just add a headache to a pissy mood is all." As Richards sipped his night toddy Jericho spoke up again. "Just after we dropped our eggs 3 of the bas#@ds hit us. I was looking back to give Gomm a shot and he drove the Hun on our tail off. I turned back around to size the situation up and Jenkins Machine was flaming. Just as I looked, his gunner, don't even know the boys name, stood up and fell out of the Morane. He looked just like a burning match head with arms and legs still trying to beat out the flames. Bad thing is, I got so pissed off I dove at the one we drove off and followed him down to 2000' before I got my wits about me and broke off. Could have ended up going west myself." Jericho raised his 45 to the light. He cocked it and eased the hammer back down before replacing it in it's holster.
Richards took another sip. "It's a bad way to go that's for sure" he said. Jericho sat up in his cot. "Well I ain't goin' out that way. No godd#@m way and I'm telling you straight up!"
"You can't dwell on it. All we can do it get up in the morning, do our job and hope we come home" Richards said swirling the last of his drink. Jericho looked at him. "Oh I'm gonna do my job. I"m gonna kill the sons of bi#@h's".
Jericho was up at sunrise with C Flight. They were to do some Artty spotting southeast of Cappy. He told Gomm, "If we get attacked, don't just count coup on the sob, kill him." Gomm looked at Jericho, "Count what?" While climbing into the Morane Jericho said, "I'll explain later. Just remember what I said." It was a beautiful day for flying and the spotting went off without a hitch. "I recon nothin's coming our way with these 2 DH2"s up above" Jericho thought. Just as they turned west to go home 3 Fokker's dove down head on at them. The two escorts took care of 2 and Cochran's gunner knocked one out of the sky with one burst. When they landed Jericho told Cochran's, " Hey Hoss, would you mind showing Gomm here that trick!"
That afternoon they were headed to Bertincourt. Before the flight Gomm had asked Jericho what counting coup meant. "Well, this was before my time. The plains indians in America were some of the bravest warriors around. To show their bravery one would touch the enemy with his hand and escape unharmed. Don't really see the point in it myself. Kinda foolish if you ask me but it sure meant big medicine to them. My point is, don't just put a few holes in his machine. Knock the sob down.!" Gomm shook is head. "I'll do my best."
Archie over Bertincourt was as accurate as Jericho had seen. It was close. Too close! Once they dropped their eggs Jericho turned the Morane around and headed back west with the Archie following them. Just before getting to the lines Gomm signaled him. An Eindecker was coming from behind. As soon as the Fokker got close the other 2 machines opened up followed by Gomm. Jericho looked back just in time to see the green Hun belch smoke from his engine and turn away. He instantly dove and turned back to catch the Hun. It was not long before they pulled up beside the Eindecker with it's prop coming to a stop. Gomm did not hesitate and let loose a burst which sent the machine spinning to the ground. Jericho reached back and patted Gomm on the arm and gave him a thumbs up.
That night at mess the Major announced that Jericho's Fokker had been confirmed. This was met with cheers all around.
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!
#4476447 - 06/03/1912:50 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Wulfe, Nieuport 12? What happened? Is that some sort of punishment for deserting Esc 31? Seems like tough times are ahead of the outfit. And finally, the time has come. Escadrille Americaine and Michael. Sorry to see the Esc 31 gang go, but looking forward to meeting the Americans. Great start to Fullard’s new chapter and straight into action on your first mission. I can feel trouble brewing between competing brothers. With Michael finishing off that flaming Fokker, James may be shortchanged on that claim.
Lou, looks like Mme Corcelles is running a tight ship. Better keep those shoes clean. And speaking of clean. Time to do a thorough laundry after that petrol shower. Congrats on yet another confirmed Hun! Swany may not believe it but 13 was unlucky ... for that Hun, that is.
Carrick, Keith just needs a bit of good luck. MISSING? What do you mean MISSING? Is Keith in trouble? We need more details!
Raine, an expertly crafted piece of storytelling. Mothers can be so unreasonable and meddlesome all at the least opportune times. I am in awe of the research and the amount of detail packed into your stories. I’m glad James was able to unravel the mystery of his transfer and reverse the effect. And what an effect it had on Collins - another Hun downed! Congratulations!
Originally Posted by Raine
I envy your skill.
I’m not worthy of such high praise. I just “stir” the joystick and hope for the best.
MFair, glad you had your computer issues resolved. Those kids, sometimes they come in handy. Now, get those transfer papers to the American Escadrille sent out already! Then again, Jim is coming back, so never mind. Just keep those Eindeckers off your back. And I must say that was some great writing with that last entry. I liked how the whole story was structured. Congrats on that last Fokker. Sweet revenge.
Hasse, that’s some bad luck with Julius’ claims. Hope you recover quickly. Forget the E.IV. You don’t want to end up like Immelmann.
The weather finally improved and the sodden turf that was their airfield once again was usable. The Fokker on fire from a few days ago was confirmed but even better news was that the new airplanes have arrived as promised. Yes, it has been exactly 2 weeks since OBD made their promise of new machines. The new bird was an improved Bebe. Nieuport 16 - the mechanics called it La Bête (The Beast). At first glance Gaston couldn’t tell the difference and thought the C.O. was having a laugh at his expense and had to be shown that it had a larger wing and a bigger engine to pull it along. Gaston liked the new camouflage and decided to leave it the way it was. He was never fond of the tan dope and decided to cover it with his signature purple, thus all lower surfaces had to be repainted. He was also fond of the vulture painted on the side of the fuselage. It was Capitaine Feierstein’s idea to add it to Gaston’s mount. Gaston thought it to be an appropriate warning to all the Huns and simply added a V beside it to mark it as his own. Perhaps one day it will become the escadrille’s insignia? The morning mission was a patrol of enemy front lines, west of Bechamps. There were no Boches anywhere in sight to test the new plane. Gaston’s first impression of the new Violette was an incredibly loud engine and terrible rearward view due to a protruding headrest. Th baptism of fire will have to be postponed.
Yesterday we found a lone Bristol scout. I thought they had been pulled from the front. I havn't flown/fought one for yrs now. So the hunt is on, and I'm much quicker. Yippy I thought. Fall out of the sky behind him, give a squirt, over shoot. No problem, my passenger will pick him of from his left front.....ha ha, take that you.....waaaaaa He has a bent gun !! To my horror I remembered the things MG shoot to the left side outside of the prop. A few chunks of cockpit and a holed fuel tank later WE drop out of the sky and run for it.
quite an ugly engagement that one
make mistakes and learn from them
I5 4440 3.1Ghz, Asrock B85m Pro3, Gtx 1060 3GB
#4476497 - 06/03/1912:05 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: May 2012 Posts: 3,464RAF_Louvert
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Lederhosen, how far did your man get with a hole in the petrol tank? Have to watch those Bristols and that skewed gun.
Fullofit, Gaston's new ride looks spiffing. A tad more subdued than his last one, but there is still no doubt who it belongs to. As to drawing first blood with it, that will come soon enough.
MFair, Jericho appears to be whipping Gomm into shape. Congrats on his latest victory, but I fear this whole bloody business is taking it's toll on our resident cowboy.
Carrick, is Keith pulling a Yo-yo? Hope he's not gone AWOL, the Brits take a very dim view of such behavior.
Hasse, Julius needs to make a friend at HQ that can lobby for his claims. It's not fair that he's doing his job yet getting little credit for it. Here's hoping things turn around for him.
Raine, wonderful episodes as always, and the mystery is at last solved. I do feel bad though for Jim's mother, the woman is clearly unstable. Congrats on victory number four.
Wulfe, wonderful stories as well and as usual. I am so very jealous of your fellow getting to serve with the Escadrille Americaine, what a fantastic group. But scary stuff on that last landing, luck was definitely on Fullard's side. Hope he gets confirmation on that Fokker.
Great stuff Gents, keep the tales coming. And remember to post your stats as of 1 June 1916. Thanks!
Three RFC Brass Hats were strolling down a street in London. Two walked into a bar, the third one ducked. _________________________________________________________________________
Former Cold War Warrior, USAF Security Service 1974-1978, E-4, Morse Systems Intercept, England, Europe, and points above. "pippy-pahpah-pippy pah-pip-pah"
#4476615 - 06/03/1910:24 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Gaston just knew this morning will be different when he lead Japy and Garrigou on a patrol over enemy camp SE of Sivry-sur-Meuse. High above the front they’ve encountered a pair of two-seaters. The powerful engine brought them in range in no time. The new scout could climb like a monkey. Gaston opened fire and brought the Aviatik down. He left the rest of his flight to deal with the other Boche. He was already in pursuit of a trio of Fokkers escorting another two-seater further along the front lines. Again, his new plane brought him near his enemy quicker than ever, but that was it. The agility of the Bebe Gaston expected was nowhere to be found. He was struggling to stay up in the air in a turn. The heavy machine stalled with each bank. Suddenly the venerable Eindecker has become a dangerous foe. This plane was not a monkey, it was a pig! A pig with a heavy snout. It was only by luck that Gaston was able to stay out of the Spandau's range. He finally isolated one of the Fokkers as the other two nearly collided and filled it full of holes. Voscadeaux was sure the Eindecker was heavily damaged, but couldn't finish the job, as the other two Fokkers were right behind him. Another few clumsy turns and he saw his pursuers connect. This was his opportunity, he got on the tail of one of them and fired. The pilot slumped in the cockpit and the machine went straight down. He looked around and saw the last of the Fokkers gliding. Voscadeaux climbed on his tail and fired, but missed. The speed was too great. He came around for another pass and saw the Boche's prop start to windmill. He had only one more chance for attack before his target would be too low to continue, especially when flying this pig. He aimed and fired. The rounds connected, but didn't do enough damage. Gaston watched the Eindecker float down onto a stretch of flat land and stop. The Hun was safe on his side of the mud. Voscadeaux had to rethink his fighting strategy. This new plane was a handful. He needed to get used to it. Japy and Garrigou claimed a two-seater each. Overall it was a successful mission but Gaston’s luck could run out at any time.
The line patrol took the ‘B’ flight west of Bechamps this afternoon. There was no contact ... except one. The machine was visible from far away. It was instantly recognizable. The Great Navarre was returning from his hunt. Gaston pulled alongside and gave the French Ace a most hearty salute. He could see the smile on Navarre’s weary face. The Sentinel of Verdun returned the salute and the two airplanes parted ways.
"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."
#4476631 - 06/04/1901:35 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Wow, a gong!!! Thanks, Lou. Jim has been a bit of a journeyman of late -- long flights with few or no encounters -- and his fifth victory was frankly a surprise (story to follow tonight). I nearly didn't claim it but then thought "What the heck."
#4476686 - 06/04/1904:22 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
About bloody time! Congratulations, Raine. Very, very well deserved.
Now, then. Some distressing news from les Americanes.
Adj. James B. Fullard, Esc. N.124 'Americaine', Behonne Aerodrome, France.
June 2nd, 1916:
On the morning of the 2nd, Thenault had called me into his office for the first time. As to be expected, it was a luxurious study decorated in fine golden ornamentation. The window looked out towards the sleepy town of Bar-le-Duc from behind heavy red curtains, and lining the walls were bookshelves, matching the finely-shaped mahogany of the Capitane’s heavy writing desk, in which resided aged academic books, their spines worn from hours spent within the hands of amateur scholars.
I stood before the Capitane, who sat well-postured in his fine leather armchair. Slowly, with deliberation, he raised himself to stand and produced a cigar box from within a desk drawer, handing me one and lighting another for himself. “They are quite excellent, James. And they are contraband! So, that only improves the flavour”. He gave me a wink. Thanking him, I lit my own cigar and, as gestured by Thenault, took a seat in the chair opposite him. Resting his cigar in a large glass ashtray, he leaned over two pieces of paper laid flat on his desk.
“I’ll cut to the chase. It appears that you and Michael have both claimed the same Fokker from yesterday”. My eyebrows raised slightly in surprise, as I thought back to the fight. I was sure he had been set alight before Michael had even gotten close! Perhaps I was mistaken. Leaning back, Thenault gazed at me expectantly. “Well?”.
I sat quietly for a moment, considering. In my head, I saw no reason why Michael would attempt to claim my victory, unless he was certain he had delivered the killing blow. Was it possible that he had arrived before the Fokker had caught fire, and I was so absorbed in my gunnery that I hadn’t seen him? By any means, I was sure that he had made an honest mistake. Finally, I answered Thenault. “Give the victory to Michael” I said, with a smile on my face. The corner of Thenault’s mouth turned upwards. “Very well. The victory shall be awarded to Michael”.
With the officialdom out of the way, Thenault invited me downstairs to have breakfast with him. I accepted - although, it felt bizarre to be dining alongside the Commanding Officer. In Escadrille 31, we never so much as saw a man with a commission, let alone shared the same space with them! We were joined by Bill Thaw and Norman Prince, who had come down from their rooms nursing heavy hangovers following a night of decadence on the town. As we greeted each other and sat down around the dining table, two orderlies arrived bringing us each a plate with a large Omelette, of the type only the French can make. I was astounded by how delicious the meal was, after the typical rations of Ochey.
After our breakfast, Thenault drove us to the Aerodrome, which was already alive with personnel immersed in their day’s work. An engine droned overhead, and I looked up to see the sky-blue Nieuport of Chapman turning loops and slips and spins in a jovial display of stunting. Thenault laughed as he watched the Nieuport finally stand on its tail, hang in the air for a moment, and swoop back down to earth in one fluid motion.
At noon Thenault gathered the pilots as the mechanics begun to wheel our machines out of their hangars. As we stood before him, gone was the joviality and informality I had enjoyed over breakfast, replaced now with the calm professionalism that had awed me upon my arrival at the Escadrille. “Gentlemen. Today we are to fly a patrol over the city of Verdun. I shall lead the low flight, which will consist of James and Michael Fullard, Johnson, and Cowdin. McConnell, you shall lead the higher patrol and watch over us, lest we be attacked from above. Balsley and Chapman will fly with you. We are looking for Bosche reconnaissance machines, but don’t neglect to keep an eye out for any marauding Fokkers! We shall take off in twenty minutes”.
The sky was beautifully clear and tame as we lifted from the aerodrome and climbed towards Verdun. Below us, the River Aisne shone like gold in the warmth of the sun, and happily we traced its line towards the Argonne forest. In the back of my mind, however, was my forced landing on the 30th, and so I kept an eye downwards for places to land, should I need to. Below were the long rolling hills of Verdun, accented by fences and telephone wires. Very few acceptable landing places made themselves apparent to me.
Suddenly, as I was appraising a long wheat field by the banks of the Aisne, a flash of white caught my eye. I gave my full attention and saw three sets of wings, reflecting brightly in the midday sun. At first I assumed it to me McConnell’s flight, but an instant later I recalled that they were supposed to be the high flight...I rocked my wings, gaining Thenault’s attention, and indicated to the shapes. He peered over the side of his cockpit, turned back to me and nodded once, then swung our flight around to pursue. As we closed, I was astounded, for here in front of us, flying not 500 meters from the ground, were three Eindeckers!
We dove towards their tails and at once they snapped around to face us. I watched as Thenault carved their formation in two, firing at one machine in a head on-pass. A moment later and we had broken into a furious furball, machines looping and circling to get on each other’s tails. I found myself behind one German and fired a long burst into him. At once his machine erupted into flames, and I curved away to a flank. Then, my mouth wide-open in shock, I watched as Michael’s Nieuport promptly settled in behind my Eindecker and fired a second burst into the machine. My blood boiled. I watched as the Eindecker’s nose dropped and Michael followed. A moment later and my rage was replaced by horror. Michael’s Nieuport gave a sickening jolt, and the lower wing started to buckle. In a panic I watched as my brother tried to wrench his Nieuport out of its dive and the bottom wings snapped entirely away. For a moment, his machine carried on, almost comically resembling a Morane, but then the upper wings folded also and his Nieuport fell dart-like towards earth.
Black spots flashed in front of my eyes. My nostrils and mouth were taking in air, but I wasn’t breathing. As I watched in helpless, sickening horror, Michael’s Nieuport crashed into the earth and splintered into nought but matchwood, small clouds of dust being kicked up from where the now-severed pieces of his machine cascaded across the earth. Time slowed, and stopped completely. What had just happened…? My brother was dead. Frantically I circled to earth and landed alongside his wrecked machine, narrowly missing a fence as I did so, and rushed out from my Nieuport, crying out Michael’s name in pitiful desperation. When I reached his machine, I found his body twisted unnaturally, his face blankly staring downwards at the floor of his machine. Blood dripped from the end of his nose, and from his mouth which hung slightly open, his jaw cocked to the side, its bone jutting out from his cheek. I pulled him from the wreckage and held him close, crying out my pain and confusion in a long, animal sound.
That is how Thenault found me after he landed alongside my Nieuport - clutching Michael’s body to my chest, sobbing and cursing, asking why, before finally falling silent as I was detached from the world suddenly, all feelings washing away except for a deep, immovable grief which swallowed me whole. Thenault had his hand on my shoulder. He was saying something. The grief swallowed his words too. Blankly I looked up at him, his face, sheet-white, was a mixture of pity, sadness and shock. Overhead, the other Nieuports circled.