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#4488666 - 09/06/19 04:22 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) ***** [Re: Raine]  
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HarryH Offline
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All Lazlo got for his broken arm was an apple strudel.

Marvelous stuff Raine, two in one night!! Your man deserves his gong smile


System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4488668 - 09/06/19 04:45 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe Offline
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The Gong of Gongs! The VC! First of the campaign! Huge congrats, Raine!!! Very well deserved, after shooting down TWO Zeps!

Last edited by Wulfe; 09/06/19 04:45 PM.
#4488677 - 09/06/19 05:31 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: HarryH]  
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Raine Offline
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Originally Posted by HarryH
Marvelous stuff Raine, two in one night!! Your man deserves his gong smile


Thanks Harry, but it actually wasn't two in one night. He got the first in late August and the second on 3 September. On 3 September he thought he had two because after destroying the one in the searchlights, he was firing at another when it ignited. Then he later learned that Fred Sowrey was also firing at the same Zep at the same time and was closer.

Last edited by Raine; 09/06/19 05:32 PM.
#4488679 - 09/06/19 05:34 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Gents, I go away for a few days and have 3 pages to catch up on! Gongs, zeppelin’s falling like rain and ace’s everywhere. Great stories all.
Harry, when Drogo gets wounded, I’ll take my strudel with cream!


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!
#4488680 - 09/06/19 05:46 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

6 September 1916
Fienvillers, France

As Captain Swanson led A Flight up into a beautiful fall morning he was feeling quite fine. His headaches were all but gone now, thanks to the regimen he'd been following for the last two weeks. And his left leg was nearly back to its strong limber self, so much so in fact that after his dawn jog around the south field he'd actually gone to the woods beyond the camp's watch tower and climbed one of the larger birch trees just to test things out. Doing so brought back a flood of memories from his days working with his uncle in the forests of northern Minnesota. Days that seemed so long ago now even though he'd only been away from home for little more than a year. Time was a slippery thing in war, had it really only been fourteen or so months? And when did he leave his friends at Number 3 Squadron and those outdated Moranes? Not even six months ago at this point, yet that too seemed to be a lifetime ago somehow. 3 Squadron suddenly reminded him of what he'd learned through the Comic Cuts last night, that his good friend James Collins had bagged himself yet another Zeppelin! "There will be no living with the hero now", Swany chuckled to himself, though truth be told he was royally chuffed for his pal.

While the four Strutters made their way towards the front, passing the city of Doullens along the route, the Captain caught a glimpse of something far off, low and to the southeast - a glint of wings. He turned and began a shallow dive to investigate. As he did so the anti-aircraft guns west of Albert started popping away at the intruders, which soon revealed themselves to be a flight of three Halberstadt biplanes. Swanson gave the signal and dove with two of his wing-men onto the enemy, while the remaining Strutter stayed high to act as look-out. As the fur-ball commenced the Sopwith off to Swany's right, occupied by his friend Lt. "Patty" K-C-Patrick and G/O 2nd Lt. Stanley, merged with one of the Huns, each plane banging away at the other as they did so. As they skimmed passed their wings touched and both went spinning down out of control. The Boche did not recover and slammed into the ground, bursting into flames on impact. Patty was luckier and managed to right his mount just in time to set down hard in a clearing near a small farmhouse. The Strutter was belching black smoke as Swany watched with relief to see his mates scramble from the wreck just before it burst into full flames. Thank God for small miracles.

Captain Cruikshank and Lt. Walsh were tied up with the second Halberstadt so Swanson and Dent went after the third Hun, who apparently had decided retreat was the better option and was scampering past the field near Baizieux, the ground gunners there firing away like mad at the fellow as he did so. After several minutes Swany had at last gotten within range of the fleeing enemy who had been clawing for altitude throughout the chase. A short burst from the forward-facing Vickers enticed the Boche to turn and fight his attacker. It was a short fight, the Halberstadt soon falling out of control into a pasture below. A nearby herd of sheep seemed little affected by the smoldering remains that now marred their grazing rights and went about their ovine business quite uninterested in the affairs of man.

The three planes of A Flight that were still in the air regrouped and finished the assigned sortie, a patrol of the lines between Courcelette and Guillemont. Apart from a pair of Rolands that were spotted racing east over Delville Wood no other sky Huns were seen and after thirty-some minutes of loitering about over No Man's Land Captain Swanson turned and brought his team back to camp. As they were landing Swany noticed a pair of B.E.12s from 19 Squadron at the far end of the field that had just returned from one of their outings as well. The group had joined 70 Squadron several weeks ago at Fienvillers and was now sharing space with them. They seemed a fine bunch of fellows. Shortly after landing and filling out AARs and claims Swany was pleased to see the two wayward lads of his flight returning to camp, sans Strutter of course. Patty and Stanley had caught a ride from Baizieux on a tender and appeared none the worse for wear for their excitement, apart from a large knot on the young G/Os head. When asked how it happened, K-C-Patrick chimed in before his gunner could answer. "He's claiming he hit his head on the cockpit edge due to my hard landing, but he really got it when he jumped from his office and smacked his skull on the gun mount on the way out. The lying buggar!" Stanley tried to defend his version of events but his sheepish grin gave him away.

"Ah well", the Captain replied cheerily, "either way I'll buy both of you a drink in da mess after dinner for your efforts." Swany was simply glad his two flight mates had been graced with enough time to escape, a few seconds longer and they would have burned to death with their plane. Time - it really was a slippery thing.


A Flight about to take off into a beautiful fall morning.
[Linked Image]

Diving into a trio of Halberstadts.
[Linked Image]

Relived to see his mates escape the wrecked Strutter, Swany goes after a fleeing Hun.
[Linked Image]

Another enemy about to fall.
[Linked Image]

A smoldering crater in the pasture, an uninterested herd of sheep nearby.
[Linked Image]

Returning to Fienvillers Swany spots two of the B.E.12s of 19 Squadron parked at the end of the field.
[Linked Image]

.

#4488687 - 09/06/19 07:15 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine Offline
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Lou,

Great story and photos. Swanson is such a pro -- take off, bat a few Halberstadts out of the air for fun, carry on with the mission, and back for cream cakes and tea. All in a day's work...

Here is a quick piece from Collins.

An Airman’s Odyssey – by Captain James Arthur Collins, VC, MC

Part Fifty-Nine: In which my life changes


“Do you know why I have sent for you?” It was the second time in a week and a half that I had met General Henderson. This was the fellow who had brought the RFC into being, who learned to fly in 1911, who had commanded it in the field before General Trenchard, and who was the most impressive soldier I’d ever seen. He was tall, striking, and impeccably turned out, a DSO ribbon leading the band of campaign ribbons on his tunic. His voice, rich Scots mixed with public school English, was tonal caramel.

“No sir.”

[Linked Image]
Brigadier-General Sir David Henderson

“Your life, young Collins, is about to change. I have here a letter from the King, who has seen fit to award you the Victoria Cross. Do you know what that means for you?” I was breathless. Free pints at the Kings Head came to mind. I stared blankly at the General, who continued. “It brings expectations. It brings responsibility. You wear it not only for yourself, but for all you serve with. Do you understand what that will mean?”

“I believe I do, sir,” I said. God, what comes after the pints? “Example, sir. One needs to serve as an example.” A schoolboy answer, but the best I had.

“That is exactly the point,” said the General. “When the award is gazetted later today, your life as a private person is effectively done. You will never again be out of the eye of the people. I expect you to do our Flying Corps proud.”

“Yes, sir.” I had rather hoped that shooting down a Zeppelin or two would help me meet girls, and had mused about the likelihood of a filthy weekend or two. The former was still likely. The dreams of the latter were rapidly receding.

The General passed across his desk several bars of crimson ribbon. “You can get these up today but leave the ribbon off the tunic you will wear to your investiture. Oh yes, the investiture. Major Higgins will meet you at the station in Windsor on Saturday at one o’clock. You’ll travel there with Lieutenants Sowrey and Leefe Robinson, who are both receiving the DSO. The investiture is at the Castle at two. And it’s just for the three of you. Let me be the first to congratulate you, Captain Collins.”

“Captain, sir?”

“Yes, and you’ve been approved officially as flight commander with Thirty-Nine. Now I believe you’d best be off to see your tailor. You are to meet me at Simpson’s in the Strand at seven. We’re dining with the Secretary of State for War, Mr. George, and the Leaders of the Lords, the Marquess of Crewe. Both Liberals. They wish to meet you.”

“Is there a political agenda here, sir?” I dared to ask.

“There probably was when Lloyd George set up the meeting. And I suspect Colonel Aitken was involved. But the Marquess invited himself. He and Mr. George are not exactly in accord with one another. My job, Captain Collins, is to keep you safely out of whatever they are up to.”
I thanked the General, who pulled his chair back as a sign I should leave now. “Oh, Captain Collins,” he said, “have you met a marquess before?”

“No, sir.”

“Then know it’s a simple ‘My Lord’ when you do meet him. Until seven, then. See your tailor.”

Attached Files 220px-Brig-Gen_David_Henderson.jpg
#4488701 - 09/06/19 09:40 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Ooh, royalty! Good stuff Raine. Hope the meeting goes well for Fullard smile

Well done Lou, only it pains me to see your man knocking down my Halberstadts!


Feldwebel Lazlo Halász,

Jasta 1, Bertincourt, France
September 5th- 6th 1916

Kette zwei had one further mission that day of the 5th. The weather had improved only slightly. As the walked across the filed to their machines, Lazlo noticed some activity over by the parts stores. Several of the mechanics and riggers were gathered around something and seemed to be busy with tools. He didn't have time to find out more. Soon they were airborn, on their way to rendezvous with a pair of 2-seaters assigned to carry out observation over the enemy trenches north of Albert. They had been up for no more than 10 minutes before Lazlo spotted three enemy aircraft below. He immediately turned, slowed the engine and descended upon the machines. They must have seen him coming because the lead machine immediately jinked left and the others broke in the opposite direction. Lazlo set his sights one the closest of the trio and readied his weapon. Once again his aim was poor. Worse still the cloud was fast thickening and Lazlo watched the enemy machines dissapear into the murky, dank vapors.

"#%&*$#!", he cursed, wondering whether to follow. He was already well over the li9nes, and looking around he suddenly realized he was alone! He decided it would be better to turn around and head home. He had no chance of finding his flight in this weather, and the worry of another engine failure made him more cautious than normal.

Back at his field, one of the mechanics beckoned to him to come over to the tool shed. He dismounted and strolled over.

"We thought this might help you get some practice with your gun". The mechanic beamed with pride as he pointed to a makeshift target constructed from canvas stretched across a lightweight wooden frame. It had a large red bullseye in the middle. Attatched to the frame were a series of wires that the riggers were busy adjusting. "The idea is that we connect the target to one of our old trainer machines and take her up for you. You can follow and as we turn, the target will be available for you to adjust your gunsights and improve your aim". Lazlo was very impressed and also very touched that the men would go to so much trouble for him. He gave the mechanic a big bear hug which almost squeezed the air out of him. Dropping him to the floor, Lazlo thanked him and the other men.

"Danke, danke, danke!", he exclaimed. "Now I will become super marksman, Ja? Ho, ho, ho, ho!"

The next morning they awoke to good weather, finally. There was no time for a practice run at his new target because enemy aircraft had been reported to be harrassing their field at Palenpham. When they finally arrived, sure enough there were several Caudron machines getting ready to drop more missiles. Kette zwei dived on them hungrily. Lazlo found himself immediately behind one of the big 2-seaters and pulled the trigger of his gun. Immediately there was a lound crack followed by a tearing sound. The top left plane broke away and the enemy craft began a leaf-like tumble toward the earth below. Lazlo circled lazily, admiring his handiwork, watching until the machine eventually exploded into the ground.

On the way back they encountered two of the new DH2 scouts. Lazlo and the rest of his flight danced around with them for several minutes. He was very impressed with the aerobatics of these machines. He was completely unable to bring his gun to bear, let alone get off an accurate shot. Eventually the DH2's took off for home. Back at their home field Wintgens greeted him with a hearty thump on the back.

"Good show, Big Red! Your first victory, if it goes through! Ahh, there's going to be some drinking tonight, at least that's for certain". Lazlo beamed down at the little airman with the pince-nez spectacles. Life was good.



To be continued......


n.b. Probably the best WOFF session I've had in months! Sadly, I have a problem with the Nvidia recording software so no videos to post. What a pity!!


System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4488702 - 09/06/19 09:41 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: MFair]  
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Originally Posted by MFair
Gents, I go away for a few days and have 3 pages to catch up on! Gongs, zeppelin’s falling like rain and ace’s everywhere. Great stories all.
Harry, when Drogo gets wounded, I’ll take my strudel with cream!


you got it smile


System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4488726 - 09/07/19 01:13 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou, you make it all look so easy!

Harry, congratulations to Lazlo!

Drogo Dorn
Sept. 3, 1916

Jasta 7 was in high spirits. The 3 Coudron's brought down by Dorn and Mock had been confirmed. There had been a real party in the mess last night. Dornhiem was well pleased with his new pilots. They had preformed well. The whole Jasta was in the air today to patrol the lines east of Verdun. While over the patrol area, Dormhiem dove and Mock followed. Drogo went into a shallow dive to follow but had not yet seen the threat. It was not long before he saw Dornhiem with a Nieuport coming around on his tail. Drogo went into a full power dive and then pulled up as Dornhiem went over him in the other direction. Drogo pulled up on the stick and fired as the Nieuport came into his view. He must have scored hits because when he caught sight of him again he was headed south and home. Drogo pulled up to get back to altitude and could not see anyone. He still had not found the knack of spotting machines in the air. Looking around he saw Mock engaged with another Nieuport close to the ground. Drogo dove again and was soon coming down behind the Frenchman. He fired before pulling up. Again, the Nieuport headed home. Drogo decided to do the same and turned north. His machine was immediately hit with machine gun fire. He banked and looked behind but there was nothing there. Again bullets smacked into the Fokker on all sides! Drogo suddenly realized he was low over the enemy trenches and tried to get away but not before he was hit still again with bullets. The Fokker wobbled and the stick felt useless in his hands. It was banking to the right and he could not straighten the machine out. He found a little control and but the Fokker was loosing power.The ground was coming up fast. He crossed over his trenches. The next thing he knew his machine was skipping across the rutted ground. He came to a sudden stop and could not believe he was still alive. He was shaking as a group of infantry pulled him from his machine.

Sept. 4th
There were no flights today. Mock and the rest were ribbing Drogo for wrecking his machine. Drogo was trying to act none the worse but inside he was in turmoil. He knew he had cheated death. It had happened often in the trenches when he was in the infantry but for some reason this was different. He had to shake this feeling.

Sept. 6th
Yesterday was a flight to the same patrol area where Drogo had almost met his demise. It was not a comfortable flight for him. The rain and cloud made it worse. He had seen how nimble the Nieuport machines were and knew he was outclassed in his Fokker. He imagined a Nieuport behind every cloud and they all were coming for him. He felt no better today as the crossed the lines to patrol around the 3 aerodromes near Verdun. Drogo had to choke down his fear as every fiber in his body wanted to turn toward home and safety. He was more than relieved when the flight headed home without making any contact. He was sweating as he landed back at Martincourt.


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!
#4488764 - 09/07/19 02:40 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou - great job! Halbs or Eindeckers - all the same to Swany! Good thing your mates ditched that bus in time - a very close call for them indeed!

Raine - Thoroughly enjoying Collins' tale. He's one of the most incredible DiD characters I've seen. I thoroughly hope you consider turning his tale into a novel!

Harry - Great show from Lazlo! I imagine those Caudrons aren't easy to down! Be careful around the DeHavs though - they may be long in the tooth, but they can still bite back!

MFair - Oof, close call for young Drogo...flying low over the lines is always hellish. Glad your man got away safe and sound...



Sous. Lieutenant James B. Fullard,
Escadrille N.124 'Americaine'
Bar-le-Duc, France.

September 5th, 1916


I was greeted at the breakfast table by Bert Hall, who I found lazily flicking through the most recent arrival of mail for the squadron. Setting a fresh newspaper aside, he turned to me. “Oh, hey, James. Letter from your brother”. Immediately I stiffened. “That some kinda joke, Bert?” I asked, my teeth gritted. He looked at me, puzzled, before realising his mistake. “Oh, right. No, it’s from, er...Andrew”. In shock, I ran over to his side. “Where? This one?” Bert handed me the letter and I tore it open.

“Dear James.

Thank you for writing to me, and sorry that I couldn’t respond sooner. The Legion has had a rough time in the Somme, but I’m currently enjoying being in Paris after catching a Bosche bullet.

I am broken-hearted to hear of Michael’s death. I can’t imagine how you must feel, having seen it. If possible, come and join me in Paris. I should love to see you again. We’ll drink a toast to big brother. I’m sorry to tell you that Jack Brown was killed by a German Sniper not long after we got to the Somme. Luckily the bullet got him in the head, and he died painlessly. It may not be worth saying, but I sometimes think we may have made a mistake in coming to France. That being said, I’m glad that I’ve been a part of it all.

With love,

-Andrew”.


“Jack Brown,” Bert said, and I realised he had been reading over my shoulder. “Friend of yours?”. Immediately I crumpled the letter into a ball. “What the hell, Bert! Don’t be reading my damned letters!”. He was taken aback, anger flashing over his face. “Well don’t leave it so damned exposed then! Here, you can read mines if you want!”. He thrust a letter at me. “What would I want to read your mail for?” I asked, angrily, before taking a breath. In a more calm voice I tried to reason. “Look, Bert, that’s personal stuff, okay? I’d prefer you didn’t read it”. Bert shrugged, sitting back down. “Well, fine”.

Sitting down myself, I sighed deeply. “Jack Brown was one of our childhood friends from San Francisco. We used to play baseball in his backyard. He went off to join the Legion a few months before us”. My voice quietened. “Damnit. Little Jack Brown. Can’t believe he’s gone”. Bert patted me on the back, but it felt insincere. “This damned war, eh? C’est la Guerre, as they say. At least he got it quickly. Now, I’m organising a poker game for tonight. You in?”. I shook my head. “Nope. You ain’t foolin’ me anymore, Bert. Every time we play you take me for all my pay”. Bert let out an irritated sigh. “Hell, nobody round here is any fun. It’s about time one of us went West so that some replacements come in. Maybe then I could get a damned game of cards with somebody”. I looked at him in speechless disgust. “What? Just kiddin’” he said testily.

Fearing I might fail to resist taking a swing at the vile little man, I removed myself from the dining room and headed to Behonne, where I was unsurprised to find Lufbery lounging in a Bessoneau beside his machine. “Morning, Luf. Mind if I join you?”. “Be my guest, mon ami. You look annoyed. What’s up?”. I shrugged. “Just Bert winding me up, is all. He’s a nasty piece of work”. Luf chuckled. “Oui, he’s a real Salaud. If he wasn’t one of us I’d have shut his mouth for him already”. We fell into silence as Luf loaded a Lewis drum, sorting through a box of ammunition and discarding the crooked rounds. “Merde, look at this! Who makes these useless bullets? It’s no wonder we haven’t won the war yet” he muttered, tossing another bent round onto the discarded pile. “You do that before every flight?” I asked, gesturing towards the quarter-filled drum. He nodded. “Better to find the bad rounds down here than up there”. “Ha! Too right. Well, I’d better go and check the assignments”.

Keeping with his promise, Thenault had departed the Escadrille for the day to visit Cowdin and McConnell, leaving De Laage in charge. The stoic French second-in-command pulled no punches in reminding us that, despite our free camaraderie, he was still our superior officer (in my case, by seniority). I was ordered to lead my flight on the 2 O’Clock patrol over Verdun - an assignment we were all too happy with. However, his next words sent a shiver of irritation down my spine. “Bert Hall shall be joining your flight”. Not wanting to let Thenault down, I tried to put Hall’s abrasive nature out of my head as we lined up our Nieuports on the airfield, gathering my pilots around me. “Okay, boys. Listen up”. My men turned to face me, their private jokes and conversations fizzling out. “We may be on our side of the lines, but I want you all to keep a sharp lookout for the Bosche. Those damned Rolands don’t have any problem coming over, and we still don’t know anything about the Bosche’s new Biplane. If we do spot the Bosche, I want you all to wait for my signal before attacking. Clear?”. The men grunted in agreement, and we sneaked a last cigarette before climbing into our machines.

The rain had started up again by the time our patrol had set off, and miserably we lifted into a freezing sky, the ice-needle raindrops stabbing mercilessly at our uncovered faces. As we turned towards Verdun I attempted to tuck my scarf up underneath my goggles, wearing it like a facemask, but this only led to my goggles steaming up with my breath and so I quickly abandoned the idea. We climbed up to the base of the heavy grey clouds above us, weaving in the small river-like channels between them as we made our way to the proud fortress-city. Our machines were buffeted about horribly as we flew, but we managed to make it to the city in good time. As we flew over the remnants of its residential areas, something caught my eye below. Peering down, I spotted two machines whirling in their own private duel. I strained my eyes to try and identify the two combatants, and eventually saw that it was a Nieuport chasing the tail of an Eindecker. Curiously I watched from above as the two opponents whirled around in a right-hand circle, becoming ever-increasingly close to the ground. Suddenly in a single tracer-burst the Eindecker shuddered in the air and dove into the side of a ruined house. Well done! I told my French comrade in my head.

Looking forwards I was shocked to find two massive machines heading towards us. Panicked, I started to bank away, but as my eyes took in the shape of the two behemoths I realised it was a pair of Caudrons. Snapping back onto course and feeling a little silly, I watched the two machines drift past. For the next ten minutes the sky was clear of friend or foe, but as we made our third rotation over Verdun I caught the glint of wings high above us. Looking up, I saw an Aviatik heading North. After a thorough scan around the Bosche, to make sure he had no friends waiting in ambush, I signalled to the flight to start climbing.

Flying ahead and below of the German and blocking line of sight with his nose, we crept up to the Aviatik’s altitude as he crossed over the centre of no-man’s-land. I quickly looked over my wingmen, had one more brief scan for other enemy machines, and ordered the attack. As we approached I couldn’t believe my eyes - Bert Hall shot ahead of our formation and dove straight at the Aviatik! I cursed him for his rashness and followed. Suddenly, I saw a flash of tracer from the German machine, and immediately Bert’s Nieuport fell away in a spin. Shocked, I curled around onto the Bosche’s six. As I tried to aim my shots, however, the hateful wind rocked the nose of my Nieport up and down violently, and I spat a curse as I watched my tracers hitting every section of sky apart from the one the Aviatik occupied. I circled around for a second attack, and then a third, before finally a great gust of wind tore my nose upwards and I fell into a stall, falling away from the Aviatik which sailed away indifferently. Punching my dashboard in frustration, I watched the others attempt to bring down the Bosche - all to no avail. One by one they circled back, each having expended their ammunition. Miserably we flew back to Behonne.

Thenault had a call from Bert around suppertime - his machine’s engine had been badly shot, but he had managed to fall away and land at Verdun aerodrome. Shortly afterwards I called upon the Capitane in his office and asked for a 48-hour pass.

"A 48-hour pass? What for?"
"Well, you see, my brother Andrew is in Paris wounded, and I haven't seen him for over a year".
"Hm. I see. Well, I can't guarantee anything, you understand. However, I shall check the flight roster for the next two days and see what I can do".
"Thank you, sir! By the way, how was Cowdin, and Mac?"
"They are both well, Mon Ami, but.."

Sadness flashed in the Capitane's eyes for a moment.

"Seeing Cowdin was...hard. That bullet gave him some terrible wounds. It is as his letter says - the doctor told me he'll never again fly. It is a cruel thing for an airman to discover".
"That's a damned shame. We'll keep paying the Bosche back for him, though! Good night, sir".

Thenault smiled. "Yes, we will. Bonne nuit, James".



Last edited by Wulfe; 09/07/19 03:05 PM.
#4488766 - 09/07/19 03:17 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks, MFair & Wulfe. Yet to be confirmed.

Be careful with Drogo, MFair! In my experience, avoid Nieups like the plague and only pick on Caudrons. I know what you mean about spotting the buggers. Without dots on, it's tough!

Great episode, Wulfe. I love your writing style, full of detail.


System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4488776 - 09/07/19 05:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: RAF_Louvert]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 3,696
Fullofit Offline
Senior Member
Fullofit  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 3,696
Ajax, ON
Raine, congrats on another victory. Dent can eat his words now and the good Graf must be stomping his feet madly that his creations have found a terror of their own. Excellent description of what it might have been like to live the highlife as the hero of the Empire and congrats on the VC. That is one prestigious gong and a free pint ticket. Well done Captain Collins!

Lou,
Originally Posted by RAF_Louvert
Fullofit, Toby could have let his wingman have that one, but I imagine the fellow is just so focused on making it to triple ace status.

That’s not it at all. Toby despises moochers. He will not stand for doing the hard bit and then someone else waltzing in and taking the credit for it.
Looks like Swany doesn’t have that problem. His wingmen eliminate their own targets (in very unorthodox way) and leave him alone to his own devices and his own Huns. That’s the way it should be. Hmmm, maybe Mulberry should buy Sharman a drink? Another well done report. Glad Swany is on the mend.

Harry, Lazlo is just a teddy bear. One of those plush, stuffed ones that you see at the fairs. One of those large ones that will crush you if it falls on you. Great story and I’m looking forward to the target practice session. On the other hand, does he really need to shoot? He could simply fly to the enemy machines and rip their wings off with his bare hands, or is that bear hands? Just be careful when you attack those Strutters. They do put up a good fight.

MFair, well that little escapade didn’t go well. Looks like Drogo’s wings have been clipped by this experience. Hopefully he will be able to get over it quickly and learn to avoid flying low over the trenches. I expect he will soon find the right “spirit” to conquer his fears. Congrats on the confirmed Caudron. I’m glad I’m not flying one of those things anymore with everyone else ripping them to shreds.

Wulfe, darn! Bert survived. I’m disappointed. I am hoping you can make that despicable excuse for a human being pay for all the wrongs he has done. Good luck with the pass. Looking forward to a Paris tale. Perhaps James will meet une Parisienne, while he’s there?


7 September, 1916 05:00 morning mission
Luxeuil, Alsace Sector
3 Wing RNAS
FC Tobias Chester Mulberry
15 confirmed kills

The morning was still young. The five o’clock sun was just peeking out and trying to pierce through the cloud layer with little success. Mulberry was the leader of ‘B’ flight, while Collishaw was leading the ‘A’ flight. Both men were the only members of their respective flights. The trip to bomb Nancy railyard was long and monotonous, with a bit of excitement developing when Ray’s engine began to smoke halfway through and he had to peel off. Mulberry continued alone and reached the front lines without seeing any other planes throughout the entire trip. This all change when Toby was nearly at the target and noticed an Eindecker stalking him from behind. The Hun crept up from below while Mulberry was busy lining up his plane with the approaching railyard. By the time he swung his machine around the E.IV was firing and leaving holes in his wing. Despite that, the British Ace was behind the German pilot very quickly and returning fire. The monoplane squirmed around but it was no use. The petrol vapours were trailing behind him, betraying the severity of his situation. The Hun turned the Oberursel off for fear of catching on fire and dropped quickly down to land near the train tracks, while Toby continued to make it difficult for his foe. Finally the stricken Fokker touched down on the bumpy surface, nosed over and remained in this position to signal his defeat to the Englander. Toby continued on and dropped his cargo on the nearby railyard, hitting the barracks and sheds, then quickly turned back to return home.

YouTube Link



"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."
#4488786 - 09/07/19 08:16 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
carrick58 Offline
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carrick58  Offline
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Congrats to Raine on the V.C.

#4488788 - 09/07/19 08:18 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Fullofit]  
Joined: Dec 2014
Posts: 1,340
HarryH Offline
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HarryH  Offline
Member

Joined: Dec 2014
Posts: 1,340
Originally Posted by

Harry, Lazlo is just a teddy bear. One of those plush, stuffed ones that you see at the fairs. One of those large ones that will crush you if it falls on you. Great story and I’m looking forward to the target practice session. On the other hand, does he really need to shoot? He could simply fly to the enemy machines and rip their wings off with his bare hands, or is that bear hands? Just be careful when you attack those Strutters. They do put up a good fight.


Yours certainly puts up a good fight Fullofit smile

Feldwebel Lazlo Halász,

Jasta 1, Bertincourt, France
September 7th 1916

Lazlo was in low spirits. He had all but given up on his claim for the Caudron being approved, until that morning at breakfast when Von Keudell walked up to him and slapped him on his broad back.

"Congratulations on your first official victory, Big Red! May there be many more!" The whole room erupted into cheers, whistles and applause. Lazlo beamed, unable to stifle his feelings of pride. "That's right, confirmation arrived just fifteen minutes ago. How do you feel now?", Von Keudell asked.

"Well, naturally I am happy, but it was just a lucky shot, certainly not good marksmaning".

"Marksmanship", Von Keudell corrected him. "I wouldn't worry too much about that old boy, a victory's a victory. Well now, that reminds me, how's the target practice going?". Lazlo's face fell again.

"Badly, if the truth I am telling. I cannot shoot straight with that damned thing." He had already been up early that morning, chasing the old Aviatik B1 around the field with its makeshift target trailing along behind. When they had come back down to inspect the damage, there had been none! Nearly 200 rounds had managed to completely miss the target. The mechanics had tried to cheer him up and offer advice, but he was unconsolable.

"I'll have a word with the mechanics. I think I have an idea of what the problem is", Von Keudell marched off in the direction of the workshops.

When they got the order to go up later that day, Lazlo noticed something different about his Halberstadt. The mechanics had repositioned the gun mount to be higher up. Now, although he still had to crouch low in the cockpit, he could just about manage to aim with the use of the sight. He thought to himself that this would probably lead to better success that simply firing aimlessly as he had been doing. Their mission took the southwest over Albert, accompanying a lone Roland CII. There was no sign of the enemy and so no chance to try the new gun sight. Lazlo's machine once again suffered an engine failure, but he was able to put down safely on the main road, about five miles short of his field. A tender was soon dispatched to collect him. After the engine had been repaired he went up one more time for a bit more target practice. It was awkward and uncomfortable squatting to line up the shot, but he managed it. Back on the ground together with the mechanics, Von Keudell and Kurt Wintgens, they inspected the target. Murmurs of approval went around the group.

"Very good, Big Red! I think you've found the knack! Watch out Wintgens, he's after your score". Von Keudell winked at his colleague and they both chuckled. Lazlo was as proud as punch and extremely relieved. Now to shoot down some more Frenchmen!

To be continued......


Last edited by HarryH; 09/11/19 04:08 PM.

System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4488790 - 09/07/19 08:22 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
carrick58 Offline
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carrick58  Offline
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Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
Keith Cunard Mallory
2nd LT, Rfc
29 Sqn, Ablee AF.
DH-2's
4 Kills


Sep 6, 1916.

Dawn Patrol: 6 a/c no contact

Offensive Patrol : 5 a/c no contact

Sqn Status:

18 DH-2's on hand
16 " Flayable
14 " Combat Ready

Pilots : 12.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-09-07 13-05-08-18.jpg
#4488816 - 09/08/19 04:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
Posts: 4,879
RAF_Louvert Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
RAF_Louvert  Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Senior Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 4,879
L'Etoile du Nord
.

Carrick, where have all the Boche gone? Quiet flying for Kieth and his mates.

Harry, congrats to Lazlo on his first victory - well done. Hope the new gun mount works out for him.

Fullofit, another successful outing for Toby. And 15 confirmed at this point? I'm sensing another gong in the man's future.

Wulfe, excellent episode as always. I hope Fullard can relax and enjoy himself a bit with that 48-hour pass, the fellow certainly deserves to.

MFair, Drogo needs to be more watchful. If the Nieups don't get him the line fire will.

Raine, great vignette on Collins' second meeting with General Henderson. James is doomed to be on his best behavior from now on I fear.

.


8 September 1916
Somewhere in France

It was early morning as Captain Swanson sat quietly in one of the small tents at the dressing station of the 1st London Field Ambulance, having been moved to its relative safety near the remains of Trones Wood sometime after midnight. There was a cot in the tent that had been offered to him as a place to rest, but Swany had instead spent the night sitting in the camp chair next to it. He couldn't have slept if he'd tried. Outside, under one of the many muddied sheets and blankets, lay the body of his longtime G/O and good friend, Lieutenant Christopher Dent. The brave fellow had given the last full measure fighting off the Halberstadt that had conked the engine of their Strutter over Lechelle during an intense dogfight at dusk on the 7th. A fight which ended in a draw with both planes gliding off in opposite directions looking for a friendly place to land. The last thing Chris had done, before the bullets ripped through his chest, was to fire one final burst from his Lewis gun that landed squarely in the engine of the Boche plane, bringing its prop to a grinding halt. Swanson had no doubt that it was for this reason, and for this reason alone, that he now sat here still among the living. The young Captain's eyes began to glisten as he thought again about the sacrifice his mate had made; the thought had haunted him all night. Swany raised a hand and wiped his face, then grabbed the cup sitting next to him on a upturned ammunition box. He finished off the remnants of the cold, weak tea within and set the drained cup back on the makeshift table.

The flap of the tent was pulled aside and a Sergeant of the 56th Division stepped in to announce that it was time for the Captain to continue his journey west. Fresh troops had arrived and the last of the fellows who had been pushing the lines east of Guillemont were being relieved. Swany would be able to travel back with them to the reserve station at Fricourt and catch a tender from there on to Doullens. He would be on his own at that point to sort out the jaunt over to Fienvillers. Swany thanked the Sergeant and asked that he send his gratitude again to the lads of the London Infantry for getting his G/O and him away from the battle that was raging when he'd landed his mount at Leuze Wood the night before. He also asked that, when it was possible, to arrange for the body of his G/O to be sent to Fienvillers for burial. The senior OR assured him both requests would be honored.

It had been a harrowing landing for the young veteran pilot - his G/O shot, the engine gone, the sky nearly pitch dark, and no real certainty about which side of the lines he was about to set down on. Swany had aimed for what he hoped would be a relatively smooth field and glided the Sopwith onto it. The area turned out to be pocked with shell holes, with a thick tree line looming large ahead as the Strutter jolted and staggered across the ragged ground, coming at last to rest mere feet from the woods. The Captain, adrenaline coursing through his system, scrambled from the cockpit and swung around to get at Dent. He undid the straps and lifted the man up and out of his seat, hugging the motionless gunner to his chest and sliding off the lower wing of the plane. He then put Chris over his shoulder and sprinted away from the gunfire and towards the trees in front of him, Boche bullets zipping about from numerous directions as he did so. A voice from the woods yelled out, "Over here mate, get your arse over here before Fritz gets a bead on ya!"
Swany ran full speed towards the voice and as he did so numerous figures appeared from the darkened brush ahead to guide him in. Once out of the line of fire his hosts introduced themselves as a squad of the 56th London Infantry who had recently arrived as relief troops and were now finishing up the Guillemont push that had begun a week ago, the woods they were now in having been recently secured from the retreating Hun. The ownership of the field Swany had just landed in however was still being contested. No sooner had the brief introductions been made when a stretcher was brought up and Chris was placed gently upon it by two of the Londoners, the fellow at the head giving his mate a telling glance as they did so. Twenty minutes later Swany and his G/O were at the dressing station where Chris was looked at and pronounced dead immediately. The Hun bullets had torn through his aorta, ending up against his spine, the Doctor noting he'd likely bled out into his chest within several minutes of being shot. Swany went suddenly and completely numb. Chris was gone.



A brave soul goes to join the Choir Invisible.
[Linked Image]

.

#4488821 - 09/08/19 08:33 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 3,696
Fullofit Offline
Senior Member
Fullofit  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 3,696
Ajax, ON
Lou, sorry to hear about Dent. That's a kick to the nether region for Swany. And he was doing so well with the headaches gone. I hope he doesn't get consumed by desire for revenge and starts knocking out all Halberstads he sees. How about going solo? RIP Lieutenant Dent.

8 September, 1916 12:55 afternoon mission
Luxeuil, Alsace Sector
3 Wing RNAS
FC Tobias Chester Mulberry
15 confirmed kills

It was back to Nancy rail yard again. This time Toby was sent on his own and he wasn’t in good mood. The Fokker he downed near the rail yard yesterday could not be credited due to lack of witnesses. Perhaps he should ask all of his foes to kindly crash on the friendly side of the mud, so that someone could witness it. If he ever gets shot down, he will definitely make sure to crash on the French side, so that whoever shoots him down does not get credited for his hard work either. The weather was taking a turn for the worse. Large clouds gathered and the ground mist intensified. He was having difficulties recognizing any of the landmarks and the navigation became that much more difficult. Mulberry eventually reached the yard after a long flight and dropped his ordnance right smack in the middle of the yard. As he was about to turn back when he noticed two specks in the distance at low altitude. They had to be Huns to fly this low and not be harassed by Flak. Toby went after them, he had decisive height advantage and could easily convert it into speed to catch up to them. The two silhouettes were getting closer and he could recognize them now. Eindeckers! One of them made an about turn and was rising to meet him. He’d been spotted. A green Fokker came into view and turned into Toby’s flight path. He banked to port hard. The airframe creaked in protest and his body grew heavier with centrifugal forces. He gnashes his teeth with the effort to keep his head straight to keep visual contact with the enemy. The Hun disappeared above the top plane for a second and when he reappeared he was moving in opposite direction. Toby flicked his Strutter to starboard to keep on the German’s tail. He fired when he thought the monoplane would fly in front of his gun. Short burst. There is no need to waste ammo. The green Fokker dodged, dove and climbed but Toby remained glued to his tail, continuing to take snap shots. Finally the two planes aligned and Mulberry squeezed the trigger and continued to keep it pressed until he saw the German pilot slump in his seat. His craft rolled onto its back and crashed into the ground inverted. Toby took a look around to get his bearings. There was Flak being fired at him from a nearby factory. He had to be east of Château-Salins. He made a mental note of the location and the time for his report but was debating if he should even bother. The ground mist was becoming much thicker. Toby pointed his airplane south.

YouTube Link



"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."
#4488830 - 09/08/19 10:23 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 3,086
MFair Offline
Senior Member
MFair  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 3,086
Raine, I wish Jericho was still around to see James in all this glory.

Harry, congratulations on the victory! I hope the new sight adjustment works.

Wulfe and Fullofit, you two are top notch story tellers. Enjoying both!

Lou, ouch! Sorry to hear about Dent. That’s a terrible loss. I agree with Fullofit, don’t get all fired up and do something silly.


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!
#4488833 - 09/08/19 10:40 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
carrick58 Offline
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carrick58  Offline
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Posts: 6,659
Keith Cunard Mallory
2nd LT, Rfc
29 Sqn, Ablee AF.
DH-2's
4 Kills

Sep 8, 1916.

I have been on a little Holiday in the City while " A Flight " had the Duty. I say, good old time visiting the Sqn's favorite watering hole . La Fem De Chasse

https://giphy.com/gifs/jbunzie-jassica-rabbit-cosplay-actress-SA6ex6xPxNz9rVwQrF/fullscreen

Last edited by carrick58; 09/08/19 10:44 PM.
#4488836 - 09/08/19 11:20 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 3,086
MFair Offline
Senior Member
MFair  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 3,086
Drogo Dorn
Martincourt
Verdun
Sept. 6, 1916

Kette Zwei was flying a patrol of friendly territory near Dun-sur-Meuse. The patrol had gone well without any contact until the flight was headed back to Martincourt. Dornhiem pulled up and to the left and Drogo and Mock followed. Dorn strained to see what he knew was the enemy. He soon saw the two big Coudron's above them heading south. He kept his eyes on them and kept climbing. With the French still well above he noticed he was alone. He looked around but could not see his flight. Still well over friendly territory he kept climbing. It took him 10 minutes to come to bear on the Coudrons. He fired his first burst and passed under the beast. He came around and did the same. It took him 5 passes but but finally the Caudron's top wing collapsed and it went down in a field. Looking around Drogo saw an observation balloon and knew where he was. He headed home. Approaching Martincourt he saw his flight landing. Once on the field he jumped out of the Fokker telling Dornhiem he had shot one down. "Well, lets hope someone saw it" Dornhiem replied.

Sept. 8, 1916
Drogo's good mood was gone. Dornhiem was having ear trouble and he would be tasked with Mock to patrol around Verdun. It was all he could do to climb into the cockpit. Once in the air he felt no better. Kette Einz would be behind them. As he and Mock approached Verdun Drogo was looking all around for the Nieuports he knew were there. He looked right and Mock was no where to be seen! "He was just there" thought Drogo. Looking behind him he saw a biplane on his tail. It was not one of his flight! He pulled up and around just in time to make the Nieuport miss. He looked could not see Mock. He headed south for home. Just then Kette Zwie, two machines, passed him going south. Drogo was torn. "Where was Mock. Should I stay and get killed with him or keep heading for safety?" He made one bank to the right and saw Mock below to the south with 2 Nieports. Drogo decided he could not live with himself and dove. He made one pass at the Nieport on Mocks tail and climbed for safety. He saw Mock heading for home and he did the same. As they were crossing the mud he saw 2 more Nieports closing in on Mock below. All three machines were ahead of him so he dove down and came up behind the two Nieuports. "They don't know I'm here!" thought Drogo. As he closed and almost ready to fire, one of the Fokker DII's from the other flight passed over his head and opened up on the trailing Nieuport driving it away. The remaining Nieuport was still on Mock's tail and still unaware of the Fokker behind him. Drogo slowly closed the distance and when 75 yards away he opened fire. The Nieuport immediately pulled up and banked around to the right. To Drogo's horror he was coming around on his tail! Fear gripped him like a vice and he went into a power dive to shake him. He pulled up at tree top level at the edge of the mud on his side of the lines. As he did canvas ripped and he heard something pop but he still had control but the Fokker was sluggish. He looked back and the Nieport was still coming down on him. A field was ahead and Drogo cut the motor and landed way too fast. He bounded across the field but luckily it was smooth and there were no fences or trees. He looked up just as the Nieuport flashed overhead. The machine banked around and the pilot gave a wave and headed south. Drogo waved back, just happy to be alive.

Back at Martincourt, Mock was waiting for him. "You sure saved my life today!" Mock said. Not wanting to tell him he almost ran away he just kind of mumbled "You would have done the same my friend." That night a report came in that the observation balloon observers had seen Drogo bring down the Coudron. His score now stood at two.


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!
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