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#4493072 - 10/15/19 10:45 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) ***** [Re: Raine]  
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What a great character Elmore is! We had a local bully on our street when I was growing up, called Stephen Elmore. Agh, I hated him!


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#4493101 - 10/16/19 01:56 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
France,


Mon Dieu ! I offered to Paint the Commandant 's Wife. Instead I paint zee shed and my aeroplane.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-10-15 18-34-27-92.jpg
#4493102 - 10/16/19 01:58 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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What kind of person has a name like Elmore ?

#4493176 - 10/16/19 03:17 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Boo to Stephen Elmore. He'll get his, if he hasn't already! Rest assured, Fullard's Elmore abhors bullying wink

Sous. Lt. James B. Fullard,
Esc. N.124 'Americaine'
Luxeuil, France.

October 14th, 1916.


At 6 O’Clock I was roused by Pierre, my Orderly. “Desole, Monsier, but you are due for patrol at 7:30. Here’s a cup of cocoa”. Taking the drink and thanking him, I blearily threw back the covers and stepped to my feet. Within five minutes I was in uniform and joining the other unfortunate morning-patrol pilots downstairs. “Morn’, James” Rumsey offered, clearing the sleep from his eyes. I grunted. Beside him was Raymond Elmore, dissecting an omelette before holding it up on the end of his fork the way an aristocrat may hold up a glass of wine. “You know,” he started, “considering the country’s current dilemma, I must say that France has just the most exquisite food. Worth fighting for, I’d say”. Luf rolled his eyes as he dropped a scrap of food for Whiskey, who was curled up at his feet. At the far end of the table, Paul Pavelka quietly worked on a letter home. Only after I’d been served an omelette of my own, which I wolfed down with no trace of the finesse demonstrated by Elmore, did I glance towards the mission board that had been erected in the dining room of the Pomme d’Or. There was our sortie, at the top of the list. 0730 - MULHOUSE PATROL.

I frowned slightly. “Say, Luf. Isn’t Mulhouse on the Bosche side?”. He glanced over at me and responded with a curt “Oui”. I nodded, before looking towards Elmore.

“Elmore-”
“Oh, please. Call me Raymond”.
Raymond, we’re going over to the enemy side today. It’s not going to be like any trip you’ve been on before. I’ll need you to stick close to me and avoid fighting if you can. If you’re damaged in any way, turn straight for home”.


Raymond smiled sweetly and sipped his coffee. “Oh, no need to worry on my account. I’ll be the picture of good sense”.

At 6:30 we headed to the aerodrome to go through the tiresome motions of donning our flying gear. Fortunately the October cold meant that we didn’t overheat too rapidly as we awaited our ships being brought out, but with the rain coming down we were soon soaked through. One by one, they appeared from the Bessoneau line, and before long we had climbed into our cockpits and started up our engines. My own machine purred softly to itself as beside me Elmore winked before pulling down his goggles. Once I had made sure all our ships were ready to go, I gunned the throttle and took off ahead of my formation. The rain continued to beat at us for the long flight to the lines as we weaved among the clouds. Finally, we reached the front and, after flying through the centre of a huge, towering cloud, we emerged out into the eerie quiet of no-man’s-land. With every cloud bank I expected ambush as we continued further into the German lines.

The clouds only thickened as we drew nearer to our patrol area, and ominously they started to close in on us. Feeling claustrophobic, I doubled my scanning efforts. Over the top of a German aerodrome, two silhouettes materialised from within the mist, close, below us. My heart stopped cold as they came into focus - they were Rolands. Steeling myself, I rolled over for the attack.

Almost instantly bullets sparked off my cowling and shattered my windshield. Jolting in my seat, I fired wildly before curving away to the side. My body felt heavy and dull as I turned again to attack the Roland. It attempted to curve away with me following, shooting at it recklessly in my pursuit. Lower and lower we spiralled, until eventually I fired a burst and the Roland became passive in the air. I must have hit the pilot. Getting behind it once more, the German observer and I fired non-stop in a final, fatal crescendo. The Roland shuddered and fell towards earth, landing within eyeshot of its aerodrome.

As I turned for home I noticed little black and white specks flashing before my eyes. Blinking in confusion, I looked down to check my compass and make sure I was flying back home. That’s when I realised that the cockpit was drenched in dull, glossy red. “Oh, hell” I murmured in disbelief, as I realised what had happened. The dull heaviness became a burning, more intense than anything I’d known, beneath my ribs. A fresh realisation hit me. Or, more accurately, rolled over me not unlike the waves roll over your feet as you stand by the ocean. In a moment of surprising peace, I realised that I knew what came next. On this unassuming morning, just like any other...

I was going to die.

The machine seemed to fly itself as I lost my sense of direction. I became faintly aware of somebody flying closely behind me. The grey sky brightened as the clouds seemed to open and invite me towards the earth below. Gladly I drifted down - and discovered I was in the centre of No-Man’s-Land. “Well, old girl,” I told my ship, “least I can do is land you proper. You deserve that much”. Down we glided, the mysterious machine still following behind me, until I spotted a flat field behind our lines, just big enough to land in. I wheeled down towards it and, shakily, my Nieuport found the earth again.

As my ship rolled to a stop, I fumbled to switch off the magnetos, before finally slumping down and exhaling deeply. I let my heavy eyelids fall shut.

#4493197 - 10/16/19 06:02 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Noooo, a cliff-hanger ending.... Fullard must live! Quick! Summon the medics!!

.... he'll live. Even Elmore would offer odds against him dying wink


Last edited by HarryH; 10/16/19 06:42 PM. Reason: clarification

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#4493207 - 10/16/19 07:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Vizfeldwebel Lazlo Halász,

Jasta 1, Bertincourt, France

October 15th-16th 1916

Lazlo had spent the previous evening studying the information they had regarding enemy squadron locations and makeup. There certainly did seem to be a concentration of French opponents in the region, with a mix of Nieuport 16 and 17 variants. He was still awaiting word on his claim for the DH2. Von Keudell had offered him some words of sympathy on the wait but Lazlo didn't mind too much anyhow.

"I'm not caring really. It's only a number on a pieces of paper. Unmeaning. No uses to anyone. What matters is we all stay live, no?" Lazlo's booming voice was met with approval in the mess.

"Quite right old chap", smiled Von Keudell, handing the giant man another glass of schnapps. They enjoyed watching this affable fellow relaxing with a drink and his language only became more 'inventive' as the evening wore on.

The next day dawned with clear blue skies. A perfect, crisp autumn morning, thought Lazlo. Their first patrol was a leisurely stroll around the Villers-Carbonnel area, checking on their fields there and keeping an eye out for marauding Caudrons. Nothing to be seen. Later in the afternoon they went up again, this time to take care of an obsevation balloon north of Arras. The skies were rose pink as the sun began its slow descent. Arriving at the target, Lazlo tucked in behind Diemer and Von Keudell, waiting for them to dive. Breaking through the cloud cover, there was the balloon below. Lazlo loosed off a few short bursts, pretty sure he'd missed, but just as Diemer and Von Keudell had peeled away, Lazlo saw the balloon begin to ignite, smoke rising from the forward section. He pulled up and circled the big smoking shape, watching, fascinated as the damage spread and a second column of smoke began to rise from its belly. Then, whumpf!! The object burst into a huge fireball. Lazlo turned for home, scanning the skies for his wing mates.

Back at Bertincourt Von Keudell came over to Lazlo's machine as he was dismounting.

"Good show, Lazlo, another one for you I think!"

"No, no, I was missing the whole thing. Bad shooting, very bad". Lazlo was shaking his head furiously.

"Well then, I'll put the claim in for you. I checked with Diemer and he's sure he didn't hit it, and neither did I!"

Lazlo heard later that evening that, indeed, he'd been credited with his third victory, and his second balloon.

"I've got a new nickname for you, Lazlo" laughed Von Keudell, "Triple B, the Balloon Buster from Bertincourt!" The mess was awash with the sound of laughter and clinking glassware. Lazlo wasn't at all sure he deserved all this attention.



Last edited by HarryH; 10/16/19 07:10 PM.

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#4493213 - 10/16/19 08:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Wulfe: Quick get him a nurse.

Attached Files suspense_saturday.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 10/16/19 08:23 PM.
#4493216 - 10/16/19 08:16 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,
Oct 16. 1916.



I went up on a patrol for a Balloon attack being tail end the other pilots got Zee Bosche. I broke off at the lines and all alone soon found a Hun Scout to play with. Ever so soon my big 97 rd drum clicked empty as he led me deeper to the enemy side. I broke off and turned for home at full speed. Score 0.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-10-16 12-34-09-60.jpgCFS3 2019-10-16 12-48-35-17.jpgCFS3 2019-10-16 12-48-46-86.jpg
#4493217 - 10/16/19 08:17 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: carrick58]  
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Originally Posted by carrick58
Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,
Oct 16. 1916.



I went up on a patrol for a Balloon attack being tail end the other pilots got Zee Bosche. I broke off at the lines and all alone soon found a Hun Scout to play with. Ever so soon my big 97 rd drum clicked empty as he led me deeper to the enemy side. I broke off and turned for home at full speed. Score 0.



Wise move wink


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#4493219 - 10/16/19 08:25 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Right you are, I dont want to get to the middle names with the letter " E " too soon.

#4493246 - 10/16/19 11:38 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou, poor chinless colonel. No respect at. What has he done to suffer these insufferable colonials? Each one smarter than the last. They shoot a few Huns and they think rules and order don’t apply to them. If it were up to him both of them would be wearing a different kind of ribbon in front of a firing squad.

Harry, I would refrain from shooting friendly observation balloons if I were Lazlo. It never ends well for the Fliegers. Hope the DH2 gets confirmed. So Big Red is now a Balloon Expert. From watching the video I’m pretty sure one round at least found the gasbag. Well done!

Carrick, your new man goes through ammo like the last one went through nurses.

Wulfe, glad Fullard is back and with a new friend. Great intro to Elmore. And Bert getting his just deserts. Also, you can’t blame Rumsey for stealing Fullard’s kill. With so little of the Huns around everyone is eager to score.
And now this! Could we have our first pilot dying of blood loss? I hope not! Those awful Rolands will be the end of all of us. Waiting impatiently to find out what happens next.


15 October, 1916 08:50
Luxeuil, Alsace Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry
28 confirmed kills

It was a gloomy day. There still was no word of the American’s whereabouts. Fullard was missing since yesterday and Toby worried about his friend. He didn’t like the odds the Canadians were giving him, but they were still better than that waste of the human skin Bert Hall.
He had to occupy his mind with the task at hand. They’ve been sent to spot for the artillery along the front between Colmar and Mulhouse. They may as well have stayed at the base. The fog was so thick one could walk on it. The mission was eventless.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files 1916-10-15 Fog.jpg

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4493250 - 10/17/19 12:33 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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So much catching up to do!

Hasse, what a wonderful vignette in the Tiergarten. The melancholy reminded me of some of your last entries in the Olham DiD. Excellent writing.
Fullofit, that deadstick landing was a nailbiter. Mulberry is tearing up the Fliegertruppen.
Lou, way to go with the Chinless Wonder! Great taste of Swany's character.
Harry, congratulations on Lazlo's third victory and second balloon,
Carrick, So Rene has painted the plane and the shed! If that CO asks "who likes music?" tell Rene to keep his hands in his pocket. Otherwise he'll be tasked to move the piano!
Wulfe, please say it ain't so. I can't stand the suspense, and I'm really curious about Elmore. Come back, Fullard!

Here's Collins's next chapter...

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

Part Seventy-Three: In which I am appeased


I tried something new on 12 October – I flew alone to the lines and wandered about. It was not as dangerous as it might otherwise have been as there were thick clouds and heavy drizzle. Not sure what I thought I’d accomplish. Still, it felt good thumbing my nose at all the unseen Huns below.

The next two days saw C Flight escorting BE2s, typically accompanied by one of our two Spads. Our BE12s were slow enough to make it easy to keep station above the two-seaters, but Tidwell (or Henderson) in the attached Spad had to circle about constantly.

On the afternoon of 14 October, drizzle cancelled a planned reconnaissance patrol. The madness hit me again and I took off alone to explore the front south of the Somme. Once more, the clouds were dark and heavy, and rain smacked into my windscreen like birdshot. If the Hun showed up, I thought, I wouldn’t see him until I nearly flew into him. I was about to turn around and go home when I was surprised by three machines flying passing a few hundred feet overhead. I turned about and began to climb after them.

The third machine had disappeared by the time I came about. But the other two were clearly Halberstadts and clearly annoyed. I caught one in its turn with a quick burst, cursing that it was impossible to aim properly with a BE12 in a hot scrap. Then the rattle of a machine gun alerted me to the other Halberstadt, which had caught onto my tail. I kicked the rudder bar and banked hard left. The Hun countered my maneuver, zooming up. By this time the first Hun was back in the game and approaching me head-on. I could smell the phosphorus from the tracers whizzing past my head. With full rudder I skidded past the HA and was sure that some of my rounds hit home for I lost sight of that machine and did not see it again.

Now it was just me and the remaining Halberstadt. I found him before he found me and managed another unaimed burst as he turned sharply towards me. The Hun’s machine staggered and put its nose down. This was my chance. I dived on him and began firing, leaning out of the cockpit to aim the Vickers properly. It had to fall.

But I had forgotten the third machine, a two-seater. It opened fire from close behind and I gave up my pursuit to turn as tightly and quickly as I have ever done in an attempt to turn under him. The enemy machine was blue and green, shaped like a cigar, and it handled like a scout. This was my first encounter with an aggressive Roland. The Hun and I circled about one another in the cloud and stinging rain. That is when I noticed a strong smell of petrol. My gravity tank was holed. A spray of petrol soaked my left shoulder and a fine white mist trailed behind. I rolled The BE12 on its back and dived into the cloud layer below, switching off as I did so. The machine emerged from the cloud tilted well to one side about two thousand feet above the mud of the front line. I aimed for a distant patch of grass I could make out through the rain. There was a farm track across an open field and just enough room to pancake into the mud.

I was not completely sure that I was safely within our own lines. Should I set fire to my machine or not? My dilemma was resolved when two poilus approached, jabbing their bayonets in my direction and ordering me to raise my hands. I had learned little French in school but had worked with enough Québecois that I knew how this lot swore. Or thought I did. What I did not realise was that the French in France swore very differently from those in Québec. In Québec, all the profane words referred to sacred items in the Catholic Church. A French-Canadian worker in the Collins distillery had once explained it to me. He said “People swear by what they’re afraid of. For you Anglais, it's sex. For us, it's religion.” In any event, my attempts at Gallic indignation resulted in my captors being convulsed in laughter. I heard them say something about “un Canadien – un bâtard du curé” and the bayonets were lowered. I was escorted to a deep dugout about a quarter-mile away, where for the rest of the evening an elderly lieutenant plied me with apple brandy. The tender showed up about midnight and drove me back to Fienvillers while the recovery team struggled through the night to take my machine apart for its own return in the morning. Back home again, I sheepishly accompanied my combat report with a confession that I had left the clock in the cockpit. Naturally, it had disappeared before the BE was recovered.

The next morning, I was dispatched to RFC HQ where I was escorted to a room occupied by General Trenchard and Lieutenant-Colonel Dowding, the morose little bird of a man who commanded the HQ Wing of which 19 Squadron was part.

[Linked Image]
Hugh Dowding as a Brigadier, 1917

This summons seemed an over-reaction to losing a clock. But the General put me at ease by informing me then I had been awarded the DSO for having shot down my third and fourth Zeppelin. He presented me with both the ribbon and the medal, explaining to me that he couldn’t afford to send me home for an investiture, and adding that he suspected the King was probably tired of me by now anyway. He stated that my successes of the past week had been added to the citation just before being gazetted. Colonel Dowding glumly added that he understood that the lot at the Hotel Cecil were reportedly fed up with me as well because they suspected I had a relationship with the American press. He noted that he personally was sure it was not the case. Lying glibly, I assured him that he was correct. I added that I suspected the RFC in London knew I was innocent, and the DSO was a way of appeasing me. I was grateful in any case. That formality out of the way, the General called for tea and we spent a good half-hour talking about night-flying training, Zeppelins, and the deficiencies of the BE12.

There was a woman in the village who did sewing, and I sought her help to put up the ribbon before heading back to the aerodrome. After the past two days I intended to drink for free.

Attached Files Dowding.JPG
#4493255 - 10/17/19 01:22 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks Fullofit. Yes, two hits actually. Bloody lucky is Lazlo.

Nice one Raine, congrats on the DSO, sorry about the clock!


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#4493372 - 10/17/19 11:33 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine, congrats on the DSO. I would have to agree that the King was probably bored of the same bloke being awarded all sorts of medals for keeping the city safe. An intense battle with that Roland and the pair of Halbs. Lucky to have escaped with only a punctured tank. Next time keep those SPADs close.


16 October, 1916 07:45
Luxeuil, Alsace Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry
28 confirmed kills

The enemy troop camp near Colmar was bombed to smithereens this morning, but no contact with the enemy. After returning home two scouts from Escadrille Americaine were sitting on the edge of the field. Usually there would always be three. Still no word of Fullard.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files 1916-10-16.jpg

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4493441 - 10/18/19 12:14 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,



18 Oct 1916.


2 Sections 3 a/c managed to get a morning Escort of G-4's then the rain closed down Flight Operations. All flights Cnx.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-10-18 04-47-34-02.jpg
#4493519 - 10/18/19 08:10 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Carrick, damned rain.

Fullofit: hoping Fullard turns up eventually!

Ugh, bad weather in the Flanders region has wiped out all flying until next week! I suppose that gives me a change to catch up on my neglected "honey do" list this weekend smile

Jasta 1, Bertincourt, France
October 16th-17th 1916

Things had been relatively quiet for Jasta1. Mostly escort missions north of Arras, but without any unwelcome attention from either British or French machines. However, one bit of excitement was afforded the squadron, when on the evening of the 17th, having returned to their field at Bertincourt, the pilots noticed an unfamiliar machine sitting at the edge, by the trees.

"Goodness, take a look at that!" purred Von Keudell, as he stepped down from his Halberstadt. Lazlo was a short distance behind his friend as they trotted over to admire this wondeful looking craft. "My oh my, that's an Albatros!". Von Keudell walked up and ran his hand gently along the fuselage, feeling its ribbed sections and admiring the craftsmanship.

"Oi, get away from that!", cried a voice from the hangars. Several mechanics came running across to where Lazlo and Von Keudell were standing. "That's Hauptmann Boelcke's machine, that is", declared one of the men. "He's asked us to keep an eye and make sure no one touches nothing! That includes you, sir, begging your pardon". The mechanic looked as if he'd landed in a briar patch, caught between following Boelcke's orders and not wanting to be disrespectful to one of his own pilots.

"Ah, well then. I shall have to tell Oswald that you're doing a fine job", smiled Von Keudell. The mechanic's eyes widened.

"What, are you friends with the great man?"

"We've had a few good drinking sessions together, let's put it that way". Von Keudell winked at the man and set off for the Officer's mess, with Lazlo loping along behind. As they walked, Von Keudell turned to Lazlo, keeping his voice low. "You know, Boelcke is putting together his own Jasta. He's hand picking the best pilots he can find. He's already got that Von Richthofen fellow who's something of a hot shot. Perhaps he's heard of your balloon busting prowess and has come to make you an offer you can't refuse". Von Keudell nudged Lazlo in the ribs.

In the mess, there was Boelcke, surrounded by the other members of Jasta 1. Zander was standing next to him and turned toward the door as they entered.

"Ah, there he is now, Lazlo Halasz. You said you wanted to speak with him", said Zander.

"Mein Gott!" exclaimed Boelcke, surveying the huge pilot. "You're an enormous fellow, that's for sure! I'm amazed your machine is able to get airborne at all, with you in it!" The men erupted into howls of laughter. Lazlo stood calmly, used to this kind of teasing by now. "Well, my big red giant, I have some good news for you. You have been promoted to the rank of Offiziersstellvertreter, effective immediately!" More cheers rang out as Lazlo's fellow pilots surged eagerly toward him, patting him on the back and offering their congratulations. Lazlo was dumbfounded, and particularly overwhelmed when Boelcke himself came over and shook his hand. "Keep up the good work", Boelcke grinned, "You never know where destiny might take you. The Fatherland thanks you for your service!"

More cheering and many drinks followed, as the mess witnessed its happiest occasion in a long while.


To be continued......

[Linked Image]

Last edited by HarryH; 10/19/19 12:07 AM. Reason: spilling mistaiks

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#4493539 - 10/18/19 09:43 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Great stories gents! We have a new pilot, promotions, a missing pilot and medals. Hope I didn’t miss anything.

Fw Drogo Dorn
Spincourt Aerodrome
Verdun
Oct. 18, 1916

Drogo had finally returned to Jasta 7. There were a lot of new faces in the Jasta. Mostly green pilots fresh from flight school. “They will have to grow up quick” thought Drogo. He was surprised to learn that Goering had transferred out. “Good riddance” Drogo knew he more than likely saved his life by driving off the unsuspecting Spad that eventually sent him to the hospital but he was almost as certain it was the thought of another victory and not saving a fellow flier that was his motivation. His father and mother had visited while he was convalescing. It was good to see them after so long even if it pained him to see his mother so concerned. “Don’t worry mother, it will take more than a stray French bullet to do me in” he had told her. His father showed nothing but pride in his son. He had been mentioned in the local paper as an “up and coming flier” with 6 victories.

The Kommandant had told him his new machine would be an Albatros DI. Drogo could not wait to get back into the air in the newest machine. He still walked with a limp and still used a cane but that would not stop him from getting back in the air.

“Good to see you back Drogo!” His friend Marconnay had exclaimed. “It’s good to be back” Drogo replied with a smile.
“We have a few new chicks to look after it seems” Marconnay added. Drogo looked around the room. “Yes, it would seem so.”


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!
#4493562 - 10/19/19 02:38 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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#4493589 - 10/19/19 11:58 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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18. THE ALBATROS

4 September 1916. Flugplatz Johannisthal.


Julius was seated in the cockpit of a brand new Albatros D.II fighter. A mechanic stood on the wing, helping Julius to adjust his safety belt. Soon everything was ready for takeoff. Julius switched on the magnetos and gave the thumbs up for another mechanic to spin the propeller. The 160 hp Mercedes engine roared into life, making the cockpit tremble in expectation of flight. After letting the engine warm up a bit and then getting confirmation from the ground crew that the way was clear for takeoff, Julius increased the throttle gently. The engine responded well and the Albatros began to roll forward. Quickly the speed of the machine increased, and then, after a short run, Julius pulled the control column back. A lurching sensation followed as the machine easily left the field and began a steady climb to a higher altitude.

Julius was so excited that he could not help but smile happily. This Albatros behaved unlike anything he had ever flown before. The Fokker monoplane, and even the Halberstadt scout, were slow and clumsy machines by comparison. The Albatros seemed to have no bad habits at all and obediently followed every movement of the throttle, control column and rudder pedals. Most importantly, it seemed capable of maintaining adequate power even during an extended climb. The Fokker Eindecker in particular had been woefully lacking in this respect, a disadvantage which had caused Julius endless frustration during the battle of the Somme, as Entente planes had been able to outfly him by simply staying a little bit higher than his Fokker.

This being a test flight, the Albatros was carrying scientific instruments which recorded changes in speed and altitude. Julius had been instructed to climb to 3000 meters and then perform certain aerobatic maneuvers and make mental notes of how the airplane behaved during them. It was an assignment which pleased Julius a great deal more than his duties as a flight instructor, so he made the most of this rare opportunity.

***

Half an hour later Julius landed back at Johannisthal. The representatives of Albatros Flugzeugwerke were anxiously waiting for him, and the lead designer of the company, Diplom-Ingenieur Robert Thelen, personally helped Julius out of the cockpit.

“Well, how did it go?” Thelen asked Julius, who was removing his goggles and helmet. This had been the first time Julius flew the Albatros D.II, and Thelen was eager to hear the opinion of somebody with no previous experience of this scout type.

“Herr Diplom-Ingenieur, you have created a fantastic airplane. You must get this type into production as soon as possible! It will turn the tide in the air war!”

Thelen seemed both happy and relieved to hear Julius’s first praise for his design. Smiling broadly, he patted Julius on the back like an old comrade and began a more detailed questioning while other members of his team removed the equipment from the Albatros. Julius had made an influential new friend on that day.

***

After an extensive debriefing, Julius was ordered to see the Kommandant of Johannisthal, Dr. Hildebrandt. Entering the office of the aviation pioneer, Julius didn’t know what to expect. Hildebrandt greeted him in a way that was friendlier than usual, and then went straight to business, as was his habit. He presented Julius with an official document from the Ministry of War. It was a letter of promotion. Julius was now a Leutnant of the Imperial German Flying Troops.

***

The news of the promotion spread quickly throughout the airbase. Later that night, Julius’s fellow instructors arranged a party to celebrate the occasion. It was fun, but also gave Julius a headache the following morning.

Life seemed to be smiling at Julius for now. He could only pray that it would last.

[Linked Image]


"Upon my word I've had as much excitement on a car as in the air, especially since the R.F.C. have had women drivers."

James McCudden, Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps
#4493654 - 10/19/19 05:18 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Carrick, thank you for the welcome back!
Hasse, very nice story. I hope Julius is back in the fight soon.

Drogo Dorn
Spincourt
Oct. 19, 1916

Drogo awoke to the sound of rain. He was sure there would be no flights today. He arose and massaged his thigh. It was very tinder in the morning. A good meal and some exercise would do him good. He could not wait to get into the air with his new Albatros.


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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