Thanks Raine and Lou!

WOFF keeps on delivering the most delightful surprises

Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,


Oct 24, 1916.

Morning Escort: Routine flight for a G-4 Recon. Encountered Zee Bosche on Zee way back Great little shoot en up No losses to both sides all 3 N-16's damaged.

Late aftternoon. AF Attack with a Zeppelin Shed I fire off the big Drum 97 rds then pulled up to reload watching as 3 enemy machines took off. I followed the one that banked to the right closed to 159 meters and held down the trigger all 47 rds cooked off the e/a motor stopped and he crashed in a field. No score as no witness and over enemy land. We lost 1 KIA , plane destroyed + 1 damaged out of 4 a/c.

Raine, that was some up-side-down adventure in that SPAD! Glad you came out of it in one piece. Looks like Collins will have to adopt to the new speed of his mount and not blast by his enemies at the speed of sound. BTW, those roundels look so wrong on a SPAD.
Raine, why would Mulberry leave his Strutter? Do you know something he doesn’t?

Hasse, that’s some ribbon! It’s got palms, it’s got stars, there’s even a medal somewhere.

Lou, Toby will definitely try his best to shoot all the Verdun Huns down, because it only takes one of them to shoot Mulberry down.
I am so glad Swany’s visit with the king went without a hitch. I was prepared to read about him challenging the monarch to a tree-felling competition.
Congrats, on that Aviatik. I’m surprised it even attempted the crossing. Must have been lost or dropping off a spy. Let’s see what the brass will say to that and if they will come up with any excuse to deny the American that claim. Fingers crossed. I do like those in the cross-hairs shots.

Harry, crikey! That was a mad fight. No wonder spittle flew from Lazlo’s lips. That looked like a cut control cable. I’m seeing a lot of it recently. I wonder if it’s a PE “thing”?

Way to go Carrick. You let those Zeppelins hiding in that shed have it! Congrats on that Eindecker. Too bad about it being unconfirmed, but we all know it was you.


24 October, 1916 07:45
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry
29 confirmed kills

B Flight
SC Tobias C Mulberry
FSL Sebastian Colburn (wingman)

Mulberry’s and Colburn’s Boche Nieuports have been confirmed. They’ve been told it was a new type of Fokker.
3 Wing RNAS is still settling in at their new aerodrome of Ochey. Toby’s first mission in Verdun was a patrol of friendly front lines west of Pont-à-Mousson along a 5 mile stretch. There was no friendly or enemy activity noted or encountered, but it was a good orientation flight for him and his wingman.

Thanks Fullofit I would have loved to see a Zep being pulled out.

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

October 23rd, 1916.

On the morning of the 22nd I was finally acquitted from the Hospital. By that time, I suspected that the Escadrille had already begun to depart for our new Aerodrome, Cachy, which sat just beside the great winding Somme River. As my orders were to return to the Escadrille as soon as possible, I ordered for a taxi to drive me to the station at Luxeuil, requesting that we stop by the Aerodrome first so that I might get a chance to say goodbye to my English friend, Toby Mulberry. However, as we pulled in I found nought but British and French mechanics, readying spare parts and unused airframes for transit. Spotting Devaine, one of our Orderlies, attempting to board a protesting Whiskey into the cab of a truck, I asked him where the Naval Air Service pilots had gone. With a shrug, he simply said “Don’t know, Sir. They all took off together and headed North. I think they’re moving on”.

Disheartened, I pressed on to the station where I boarded the ten O’Clock train to Reims. As the train slowly trundled through the French landscape, greyed slightly by a dull sky and moisture hanging from the leaves and blades of grass, I vaguely wondered where the English pilots had been sent. Hopefully somewhere nice and quiet. My thoughts then wandered to the Somme - the rumours that had drifted our way on nights drinking during our leave in Paris. Devious new German machines - fast scouts with two guns, that hunted in packs.



When I arrived at Cachy in the early evening, I was surprised. The aerodrome was huge, with vast amounts of mechanicians, aeroplanes, ammunition, and vehicles stretching out in all directions. Everywhere were Nieuports painted with all manner of different squadron insignia. As for the quarters, they were entirely unlike the Fougalore Villa at Bar-le-Duc, or the Pomme D’Or at Luxeuil. Rather than excessive luxury, Cachy wood was a dank, muddy affair, with duckboards winding between endless rows of dank temporary barracks and large Bessoneaux.

I was eventually directed by a Caporal to the new home of Escadrille ‘Americaine’ - an untidy-looking temporary barracks slotted among several others of the type. Opening the door, I found a familliar sight. The barracks was not unlike the one I had stayed in at Escadrill N.31 - I entered into a small mess with a central table, around which the pilots of the Escadrille were crammed, jostling for space. To the right, a small doorway that led into a corridor wide enough for only one man, assumedly leading to the pilot rooms.

As my fellows saw me, they gave a cheer, and I greeted them one by one with quick “Hello”s and “Welcome back”s. Among the faces was James MacConnell. “Mac! Glad to have you back!” I told him, firmly shaking his hand.

“By the way,” I asked Rumsey as I fell into a chair beside him, “I haven’t seen Nimmie in here. Where is he?”. The atmosphere in the room turned cold. “You don’t know? Oh, that’s right, I suppose you were in the hospital at the time,” Rumsey replied, quietly. I recognised the look in his eye, and a wave of sadness came over me. “How did it happen?” I asked after a long pause, barely audible. Rumsey sighed. “A telephone wire. He didn’t see it as he was landing”. The mess fell quiet for a moment.

“When?”.
“The day after you were shot down”.
“Ah, hell”.

And so I came to learn that Norman Prince had died in the Alsace.

As I tried not to lean too heavily against Rumsey at our crowded table, Thenault appeared behind me and slapped me on the back. “James. I’m glad you could make it so soon. We have some new pilots, let me introduce you”. One by one I was introduced to the new men - Robert Soubiran, born in France but raised in America, Willis Haviland, a Minnesotan and an ex-American Field Ambulance driver, and Fred Prince. Of the latter, when I was introduced, Thenault informed me that he was Nimmie’s brother. The man smiled, sadly. “I came out here to fly with Norman, but I learned he was killed just two days after the fact”. Sympathetically, I put a hand on his shoulder. “He was the very best of us”. Fred sighed. “I’m going out for a walk, and a cigarette” he mumbled, heading towards the door.

Pausing for thought, I followed him. “Fred,” I called softly after him, and the man turned round. “My brother died too. He was a pilot with the Escadrille”. Fred didn’t respond. “The one thing I wish I’d done is talked a little more about it, you know, when I needed to. Enjoy your walk” I said, turning back into the mess. “Thanks,” Fred mumbled behind me.

At suppertime we anxiously crowded around the table awaiting to see how the food at Cachy compared to the fine dining we had experienced at our last two postings. Beforehand, however, Thenault rose to the head of the table to give us a quick introductory speech as to our new home. “My Americans,” he began, as we fell silent.

“Welcome to Cachy. We have been chosen as one of the four squadrons that will make up a new unit within the French Air Service - Group de Combat 13. This unit consists of four Escadrilles, N.65, N.67, N.112 and, of course, N.124. We will be working closely with these other Escadrilles, who also currently reside here at cachy. Their barracks are next door to ours, so introduce yourselves! Also residing here is the newly-formed Group de Combat 12, consisting of Escadrilles N.3, N.26, N.73 and N.103.

Now, as I’m sure you’ve seen, there are a vast amount of pilotes and machines at this aerodrome. It is bearing this in mind that I urge you to be courteous and respectful to your neighbours, and uphold our fine reputation within the French Air Service. That means no poker games, Bert”.

The room echoed with laughter. The Capitane waited for it to die down, then continued.


“Both of our Groupes de Combat will be treated as one large unit, known as Groupe de Combat de Cachy. Let us show them that the American Escadrille is it’s crown jewel!”

With a round of rigourous applause, we finally settled down to eat. After a ten-minute wait, we had begun to wonder where our food was. It was eventually De Laage that disappeared towards the kitchen to inquire, returning with a surprised look on his face. “Well?” McConnell called out. De Laage shrugged. “They said no dinner preparations have been made…”.

So, it was with no supper and empty stomachs that we turned in for the night. This is where our next shock awaited us. To say our rooms were like sieves would be an understatement - a sieve is more watertight. Everything seemed damp, from the beds to the walls to the hard, splintered wooden floor, and the rooms seemed colder still than the outside - a heat vacuum in which we found ourselves shivering violently. To make matters all the more worse, not a single bed in our barracks had any blankets! Elmore wandered into my room, a slight grimace on his face as he lit a cigarette. “This is a hell of a place to send us,” he muttered, and I laughed. “What, you don’t like the new digs?” I asked him. Shaking the match out, he smirked. “It aint Georgia…”.

After much cursing and complaining from the pilots, we resolved to climb into our Combination suits in order to try and keep out the bitter cold, curling up on our cots and shivering ourselves into uneasy slumber.

After a cold and miserable imitation of sleep in the new Barracks, we awoke on the 23rd early for our first day of operations at the Somme. Thenault greeted us, before giving us our flight assignments for the day. “What’s for breakfast?” Soubiran asked. Thenault, sheepishly, shrugged. “We still don’t have any arrangements for food”. “Hell with that,” Lufbery spat, “I’ll head into the nearest town and get some supplies myself. Come on boys, cough up some money”. We all put a few francs into a pot, and Lufbery pocketed it for later use.

Wandering out onto the aerodrome, we must have looked the picture of misery, for we were immediately approached by a small group of French airmen. “êtes-vous les Américains?” one asked. “Oui, that’s us” Luf replied. “Ah, a pleasure! But, why do you all look so...er...down?” the pilot asked us. “We haven’t eaten since we arrived yesterday. Apparently no food arrangements were made for us” I responded. The pilot’s face twisted into a look of shock. “Mon Dieu! But you can’t fly on empty stomachs! I know - come and have breakfast with us! We’re a few barracks across, and we have plenty food to spare”. Immediately our faces lit up. “Well, that would be delightful!” Elmore piped up. “You’re a real daisy, Mister….er…”. The pilot beamed. “Ah! Where are my manners! Louis Bucquet, Escadrille 3”.

We followed Bucquet to Escadrille N.3’s barracks, where we found a much more homely mess. It was every bit as dank as our own, but pictures lined the walls, a gramophone softly played away, and a portable stove provided some warmth around two long dining tables, packed closely together. As we entered, we were introduced to some of the pilots around the table.

“Gentlemen! These are the Americans! My new friends, this is Monsieur Rene Dorme, one of our best flyers. At the end of the table is Albert Hertaux. Beside him is Georges Raymond and Charles de Guibert. Don’t play them at cards”. He winked. Instinctively, we all looked to Bert. His face had lit up like a christmas tree. “Here is Albert Delluin, and this fine gentleman is-”

Rumsey cut him off. “Oh, he needs no introduction! That’s Georges Guynemer, the 18-victory Ace!”. Rigorously he shook Guynemer’s hand. The man was frail-looking, boyish around the face, almost innocently so - but shadows under his eyes hinted at restless nights, and the medals that glinted at his chest betrayed his lethality. Guynemer wasn’t the only star among N.3, however. Many of them were aces already, with some being Double-Aces.

We sat down around one of the tables as freshly-made omelettes were brought for us, and what followed was one of the most pleasant breakfasts I have had in France, despite the damp cold of Cachy Wood. We talked about new machines that the factories in France were trialling, the German machines that were arriving at the front, the biggest scraps we had been in so far. One or two French pilots seemed to recognise me as the ‘American Ace’, which embarrassed me slightly. Apparently one or two newspapers had written small articles about me. As I explained to our new French friends, I was simply the luckiest with confirmations. I was further embarrassed (as well as astounded and pleased) when Thenault arrived and announced to me that I had been awarded eight additional palmes to my Croix de Guerre, which were to arrive by the end of the day.

With our bellies full and our spirits lifted, we bid good morning to our new friends at N.3 and made our way to the Aerodrome. We had an easy day’s work ahead of us - we were only to fly familiarisation flights to Doullens and back, to get a feel for the Somme country.

Despite this, I found myself nervous as we boarded our aeroplanes at 8:30 in the morning. With me were Elmore, Pavelka, Bert Hall and De Laage. After checking my controls, and signalling to the other pilots, we started our engines and lifted up into a beautifully blue sky, peppered with gently rolling clouds. After ten minutes’ flying, my nerves eased slightly and I found myself enjoying gently rolling back and forth, peering down at the Somme. Everything was so flat! I had become used to the rolling hills of Verdun. I was enjoying myself so much that I almost missed a commotion up ahead - two Nieuports, chasing a larger pair of aircraft. Aviatiks! Immediately I signalled the flight and we joined the chase. I ducked down and approached the rear two-seater from underneath it’s tail - but as I drew nearer I realised that the machines were not Aviatiks after all - they were British B.E.2s! I broke off my pursuit and gave the Englishmen a wave, before pointing our flight back home.

Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,
Late in day of the 24th.



The Esc had a visitor. A N-11 dropped down and landed . The pilot was an old buddy of our Esc, Commandant a high scoring Ace Jean Navarre. He was wined and dined at the Chateau by the C.O. as he related his tales of action in the skies and in Paris . To the heart break of my fellow Airmen, He asked and received a favor to wear into Combat from " Claudette " the Esc's Chambermaid. I saw him wearing it as he lifted off headed back to his Aerodrome.

Goodness, between Carrick and Wulfe, nearly all the great French aviators have been featured in one day!

Great episode, Wulfe. Good to see Fullard preparing to get back in action.

Sorry about Claudette, Carrick. No doubt she's been swept off her feet by the dashing "Sentinelle de Verdun" in his bright red machine!

Congrats on the Fokker for Mulberry, Fullofit. The tally keeps climbing!

Offiziersstellvertreter Lazlo Halasz
Jasta 1, Bertincourt, France
October 23rd 1916

Von Keudell sat across the table from Lazlo, a look of concern lingering on his face.

"You really shouldn't be taking chances like that, my Big Red compatriot. It's hard enough hunting those things down as a pack! Don't be tempted to go after them alone in the future, or the Fatherland will be mourning the loss of yet another pilot". Lazlo sighed and leaned back in his chair. He didn't like being lectured and yet he knew his friend was talking sense. Von Keudell took a sip of his beer and continued. "..and now that your Nieuport from the other day has been confirmed, you're sitting at four victories! Don't squander your chance of more decorations for the huge chest of yours", he chuckled, before emptying his glass.

"I know, I know", a chastened Lazlo replied. "It's just that those big, slow old things are dropping dreadful explosions everywhere! On our fields, on our trenches, our train stations, and most terribly, on our food convoys! It's enough to make me sickening." He slammed his empty glass down in frustration. Von Keudell smiled, picked it up and wandered across to the bar to get refills for them both.

Earlier in the day, kette zwei had encountered three Nieuports near the lines. A quick skirmish had ensued and Lazlo, having had the upper hand on one of them, watched miserably as the Frenchman had suddenly broken for no man's land, heading west, keeping low to the ground. Lazlo had known it would be both futile and dangerous to pursue, so he had done the sensible thing and retreated, climbing to gain height. He realized now that Von Keudell was correct, and wished he'd shown the same restraint this afternoon. Instead, he'd ended up with a ruptured fuel tank in field, in the middle of nowhere. The news that his fourth victory had been awarded took some of the embarrassment out of things. He resolved to be more careful in future.

Carrick, good job and that Eindekker. Too bad you didn’t get credit.
Fullofit, don’t get too comfortable in your new home. The campaign gods have plans for Toby.
Wulfe, that was a great description of the aerodrome at Cachy. It was every bit as bleak and expansive as in your story. Some really great touches, especially the conversation with Fred Prince and the breakfast with Esc. 3.
Harry, I was getting nervous watching lies slow dance with those Caudrons. Look out for the big guy. And congratulations on the fourth victory!

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

Part Seventy-Five: In which I make friends with the Spad

We lost Tidwell over the lines. He was last seen going down under control, so we waited and hoped. Lieut. Whiting was appointed acting flight commander in his place, but for the time being Henderson and I had the flight commanders’ Nissen hut to ourselves.

On the morning of 22 October 1916, I led Child and Dalton north to Lens, where there was an observation balloon that wanted burning. I was finding the Spad a twitchy gun platform after my long service in BE types. A bit of balloon busting was just the ticket to set me right. We took off shortly before nine in the morning and circled north of Bertangles to gain height. We then followed the smoke haze over Doullens as our landmark, and from there we searched out the smoke haze over Arras. It was a simple five minute flight through the clouds from Arras to our target. I descended out of the cloud layer at five thousand feet and made out the dirty brown sausage hovering three miles behind Vimy Ridge. At full throttle and in shallow dive, I closed quickly on the balloon, firing all the way. As I pulled up to avoid colliding with the thing, smoke began to curl up from it. But Orlebar had followed me in and his first burst caused the balloon to ignite. He formed up to my left and gave me a very rude sign.

I climbed into the clouds and headed west. Despite circling for nearly ten minutes, I saw no sign of Child or Dalton, so with Orlebar I made my way south along the lines. I had flown nearly to the Somme River when I spotted a lone two-seater a thousand feet below. The Spad dived on it like a gannet. My first burst caused some damage but the Hun’s gunner was too good. I broke away and looped back three times. After the third attack, the HA – a Roland, I believe – went into a spin. I did not see it crash. On my return to Fienvillers, I claimed the Hun as driven down. Unfortunately no one on the ground could confirm whether it crashed and it went unrecognised.

My afternoon flight that day was cut short by a dud engine. It was a cold day and the thing simply would not warm up. Eventually, it quit and I glided into the large field at Bertangles.

I flew alone twice the following day, seeing nothing. Another engine failure required me to descend over the lines and land at Bellevue.

On 24 October I led a patrol of four Spads for the first time. It was me, a new fellow named Cverjanovic (whom I had nicknamed Bolshie), Child, and Orlebar. We ran into two Rolands and gave chase. I damaged one but took several rounds in the radiator and was forced to glide back over the lines yet again, landing in a field south of Arras. Orlebar had better luck, bagging a Roland.


"I damaged one but took several rounds in the radiator and was forced to glide back over the lines yet again"

I was finding the Spad difficult to get used to. It was wonderfully quick, climbed and dived well, and had fairly good visibility except forward and up. But it was sluggish in turns and could spin without warning if one lost speed, especially at lower altitudes. 25 October, however, was my first really good day with the new machine. At nine-thirty in the morning, we returned to Lens to attack another balloon. This time I managed to set it ablaze without Orlebar’s help. We patrolled south along the lines after the attack. Near Bethune, we saw a large scrap straight ahead of us. A formation of French Nieuports was tangled with a formation of Halberstadts. We raced to the aid of our allies – Child, Orlebar, and the Bolshie. One of the Halberstadts passed in front of me, close on the tail of a Nieuport. It took only a few seconds for Spad to close with the Hun. I put a long burst into him. He zoomed banked and dived eastward. Again I closed on him quickly. This time he could not get away. The Hun stood on one wing and then fell out of control, crashing a half-mile north of the enemy aerodrome at Ablainzeville. The balloon was confirmed as my thirteenth victory but the claim for the Halberstadt was rejected.


"This time I managed to set it ablaze without Orlebar’s help."

The day was not over. At two-thirty in the afternoon I led Bolshie and Child on a distant offensive patrol. Or at least it was intended to be a distant offensive patrol. As we approached Beaumont-Hamel, we spotted several Nieuports scrapping with several of the Huns’ latest scout, the Albatros. It was rare to see the Huns on our side of the lines, especially at low altitude as these ones were. We broke up, with each Spad chasing a different Hun. I shot some pieces out of mine and chased it eastwards over the lines where it crashed into a ruined village. Climbing back to our own side of the lines, I spotted another Albatros heading for home. It was easy to dive in close on the unsuspecting Hun. With my second burst his machine burst into flame. This was new to me – a horrifying sight. The Albatros dived shallowly eastward, a thick column of orange flame and black smoke drawn out behind. The dive became steeper and steeper, and then, just before it hit the ground, the machine exploded and fell in smoking tatters to the mud below. Child was able to confirm the kill, my fourteenth.


"...just before it hit the ground, the machine exploded..."

I did not celebrate that night. For one, I was still disturbed by the sight of the machine falling in flames. For another, Bolshie had not returned from the afternoon flight. The French reported that he had flown into the ground while chasing a Hun. Finally, we received news that Tidwell had indeed been killed. That night, Whiting was made temporary captain and given Tidwell’s flight. I helped him move into the Nissen and he helped me finish a bottle of port.

.

Raine, the Spad is revealing its secrets to Collins, and from the look of things James is taking advantage of them. It is tricky getting the hang of a BnZ fighter. After watching that enemy plane burn I hope Jim won't be haunted by the same nightmares that still visit Swany on occasion. I also hope he won't be haunted by the many mechanical issues those early Hissos had, but I'm afraid that one is a given.

Harry, congrats on Lazlo's latest victory. And the big fellow shouldn't beat himself up too much, we all have the odd lapses in good judgement from time to time, and if a holed petrol tank is all he gets out of it he's a lucky man.

Carrick, Rene has quite the competition on his hands now after that visit from Navarre. I fear Claudette's eyes may have wandered. And a zeppelin shed attack, eh? That's not something you see every day.

Wulfe, a wonderful episode to catch us up on Fullard. Glad to see him back in the fight and settling into his new digs, damp and cold as they may be. Here's hoping the Somme proves to be good hunting grounds for the new Groupe de Combat de Cachy and it's many star pilots.

Fullofit, Toby and his crew are getting comfortable in their new surroundings as well. Fingers crossed the "Devil's Anvil" allows Mulberry to be the one doing the hammering there.

.

RAF: Navarre actually did fly around with a Ladies Stocking on his head although why and how he acquired it or them is lost to History. Some say that He was a "Stage Door Johnny " and was given them by the most popular Women Singers of the Paris night Clubs as a Airman's Rabbit Foot. The Unkind, say that he payed for them to keep his head warm. It was well know that Navarre and Nungesser prowled the Paris night spots, often together returning with a woman on each arm near dawn. Leaving only time to fly in evening clothes on patrol . Parisian Females were known to give or send them " Favors " to take into Combat as if to defend the Women of France ( like the Knights of Old. )

On a different Note, This is the 1st Zep Shed that I seen in the career mode in France. Another WOFF game surprise ?

The Zep sheds have been around for awhile.
Months back I was flying a Hun career that had a Zep hanger at the home airfield.

.

Oh yes Trooper, since OFF actually. I used them in my RAE Farnborough mod a couple of years ago. In the sim they only occur naturally in a couple of places that I am aware of, not counting that Easter Egg in the mountains of the Alsace somewhere, (assuming it's still there).

Carrick, I remember reading, in several sources, about the woman's stocking that Navarre used as a bandanna. He was a character for sure.

.

Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,


Oct 25, 1916.


Dawn Patrol : 2 Section put up 4 machines + a Rover from 1st Section. We had a go at some Albatross machine, but they ran away from us. Score 0 to 0

Last lite AF attack: I went armed with Rockets and 2 47 rd drums. Made 2 passes at Zee Bosche then ran for home. almost got lost, but saw the lights of the field and landed. Losses 1 N-16, pilot missing. out of 4 a/c sent over.

Thanks HarryH. They ( French Aces ) must have been seen as the Rock Stars of their time.

Wulfe, what an introduction to Somme! Should have stayed in Alsace. More food, dry beds and ... hills. So, James has now met the famous Guynemer, the lucky dog. Hopefully the skies over Cachy will be more plentiful in enemy machines to shoot down than the kitchen hamper. Good thing Whiskey wasn’t there, or they’d have to it the cat.

Carrick, you can’t compete with Navarre. Only he can wear pantyhose on his head and look good.

Harry, congrats on the confirmed Nieuport. And an important lesson Lazlo had learned about those Caudrons. They’re not such an easy prey. They are pretty maneuverable and that gunner is pretty handy with that rear-facing mitrailleuse.

Raine, I’ll make sure Toby doesn’t unpack all the way.
That was a good idea to get some target practice on that balloon, but the engine troubles make it almost not worth going up. Too bad about the unconfirmed Halb, but at least the balloon served as a consolation prize. And then there were the Albatrosen. Looks like not much of a challenge for the British ace, must a small consolation for fallen comrades. Hopefully the SPAD’s technical problems will soon be resolved.

Lou, the Devil’s Anvil appears to be a veritable hotspot. Plenty of ground action can be witnessed along the front lines. The ground battle has been kicked up a notch in PE.


25 October, 1916 09:50
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry
29 confirmed kills

The weather continued to cooperate and it was deemed acceptable for a bit of arty spotting NE of Verdun. It was a long haul and a little tiring to babysit Draper this far, but it was worth it. As they neared their assigned area, two familiar shapes emerged from the clouds ahead and just below. Toby was surprised to see more Eindeckers even here at Verdun. Draper gained more altitude while Toby went to work. His wingman decided suddenly to stay out of the fight and it was all up to Mulberry. The pair of Fokkers swooped under the Strutter’s fuselage and split behind, while Toby tried to decide which one to pick as his first victim. He found him in his gunsight easily and proceeded to perforate the obsolete bird. He could see smoke emitting from the engine and as he came closer he noticed the pilot sitting still in his seat. He was dead and the plane continued on its own straight and level. He also noticed the other Fokker about to do the same to him from behind. Toby quickly banked to avoid the enemy fire. The Fokker was trying hard to keep up but was hopelessly outmaneuvered. Toby stayed behind the monoplane and continued to fire until the old crate started to smoke profusely. The engine caught on fire and the whole machine continued to descend. Then there was an explosion as the fire reached the petrol tank and the whole contraption dropped to the ground like a rock, crashing into the No-Man’s Land west of Perroi Pond. It was Toby’s first victory in Verdun.

YouTube Link

Fullofit: Great Vid.

Rene Deassult Lavasure
Sgt, Esc N 68
Manancourt,en Vermois,
Verdun France,


Oct 26, 1916.

We put up 3 a/c for Patrol and had one machine to turn back , We spotted and attacked a recon type at 3,900 ft. I used my 47 rd drum getting a few hits saw fabric peeling off the top wing. Pulled around to reload and saw my wingmate and the e/a disappear in the clouds and haze. I returned to base alone. 1 N-16 and pilot missing.

19. FRIENDS IN HIGH PLACES

Flugplatz Johannisthal, 12 October 1916.

“Please, take a seat. We don’t always have to conduct our business standing up”, Dr. Hildebrandt spoke and motioned for Julius to sit down opposite the Kommandant’s massive desk. Julius was curious to hear why he had been summoned to Dr. Hildebrandt’s office once again. Some time had passed since their previous private conversation.

The Kommandant adjusted his pince-nez and then gazed directly at Julius. “How are your students progressing?”

“Quite well, I’d say. Some are slower than others, but there have been no quitters, thus far.” It was unusual for the Kommandant to initiate small talk. Normally he went straight to business. Julius wondered what the reason for such unexpected behavior could be.

“That is good to hear. And how are you doing, personally?” This was even more surprising. Julius paused for a second before answering.

“Well, I guess I’m doing fine. Being an instructor is not what I wanted to do, but we’ve already talked about that. But I’m greatly enjoying the test flight opportunities. I wouldn’t mind doing more of those.”

“Indeed. Well then, I have some news for you.” The Kommandant leaned forward in his chair and crossed his hands, like he was about to share a big secret with Julius. “Today I received an order from the Feldflugchef himself. You are to report to the airfield of Jagdstaffel Zwei in France as soon as you can be released from here. It will take a few days to find a replacement for you, so you’ll have some time to get used to the idea.”

Julius was taken completely by surprise. A transfer back to the front? And not to my old unit, Jasta 1? Before he could say anything, Dr. Hildebrandt continued. “Herr Schreck, once again you have the look of a fish on dry land. Remember the last time it happened?” He smiled, somewhat resignedly, while Julius struggled to find words.

“Jasta 2? But… isn’t that Boelcke’s Jasta? I mean, Oswald Boelcke’s!”

Dr. Hildebrandt kept smiling in silence.

“But why me?”

“Why not? It makes perfect sense if you think about it.” Dr. Hildebrandt began counting with his fingers. “You have four confirmed victories, the Iron Cross second class, and a good service record.” He paused before continuing. “And maybe you have some connections too?” The Kommandant gave Julius a knowing look. Julius immediately understood this was a reference to his father’s position in the Prussian Ministry of War. He was silent, his mind working furiously to process the news. Dr. Hildebrandt continued.

“Since this is an order, it doesn’t really matter what you or even I as your commanding officer think about it. Personally, I’d have liked to keep you here as an instructor. You have been doing a satisfactory job, and we always need more people with combat experience.”

Julius had regained enough of his composure to give the Kommandant a coherent response. “Herr Major, that is the problem. I don’t want to do a satisfactory job. I want to excel as a pilot! And I doubt I could ever do that as an instructor here. It’s not what I was meant to do, if I may be so bold.”

“Have you ever been anything but bold with your words here? Some commanding officers, men of the old Prussian school, would not tolerate it as willingly as I have done.” Dr. Hildebrandt spoke with a sterner voice now. “But I don’t want mindless, strutting martinets in my flying school. So, I’m prepared to give some liberties to my subordinates – provided they get the job done. And you certainly have, Herr Schreck, you certainly have.”

Both men fell silent. Julius worried he had gone too far with his habit of speaking frankly.

The Kommandant broke the silence. “Hauptmann Boelcke is not just any officer, you know. He has considerably more influence in the circles of power than any other man of his rank. The Feldflugchef pays close attention to his every suggestion. And through the Crown Prince, who is greatly fascinated by all things flying, he has the ear of His Majesty himself.”

“Without a doubt, you have been given a fine opportunity, Herr Schreck. If you prove yourself to Boelcke, everything will be possible for you in the Luftstreitkräfte. But you have to earn it too!” The Kommandant took off his glasses and leaned back in his chair. “I will get the paperwork in order. And you had better start preparing for the greatest challenge of your life!”

Julius left the Kommandant’s office feeling both happy and scared. The Fates seemed determined to keep his life interesting.

Thanks Carrick!
Hope your missing man resurfaces. Hopefully he’s just being cared for somewhere by Claudette’s younger and prettier sister.

Hasse, does Julius’ father not like him? Why is he sending him to the Front when he has such a posh job? What does Leni think of him leaving again? More tears I suspect.


26 October, 1916 08:50
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry
29 confirmed kills
Awaiting 2 claim confirmations

It seemed Mulberry did nothing but babysit the ‘A’ Flight these days. This time he was to escort MacLennan and Eggleston to bomb enemy troop camp north of Verdun. The weather was relatively good with some large clouds marking otherwise clear sky. Their trip to the front was uneventful, which suited Toby just fine when it came to these long escort duties. It was the target that was problematic. When they arrived, two Rolands circled the camp like a pair of vultures waiting for some prey to come into view. They swooped immediately after spotting the Strutters, but they didn’t count on them to be the escort and not the heavy bomb laden birds. These Strutters had no qualms taking the fight back to the enemy. Toby went after one while his wingman, Colburn engaged the other. The enemy gunner was a crack shot and managed to perforate Mulberry’s wings. The Lewis also took the brunt of another volley misfiring every few rounds, but the Roland wasn’t faring any better. Toby could see damage to one of the wings and the German machine was soon circling lower in search of a clear spot to land. His landing was not successful and the pale-blue Walfisch crashed into a field at the edge of NML. Toby was now on his own and making his way south to the other side of the trenches. He was able to cross the front lines and reform with Colburn. 'A' was able to complete the mission without being harassed and returned home safely as well. Another day, another Roland.

YouTube Link

Claudette's sister ? Ahh man ur killing me By the way, Good Vid. Those Roland's are bad news I have lost a few good pilots to those 2 seat boys and a couple of Aces.

Hasse: nice touch to the story ur pilots Old man pushing him off to War.