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


Oct 27, 1916.

Madding day. Morning flight no contact, but had a flight-mate crash when I was landing.

Late morning: Patrol: spotted a C-4 being attacked by 2 fighters broke off from my 3 a/c flight.to help. I got there too late for the C-4 it just broke apart. I stayed high till the 2 e/a separated then dove and chased one. after many turns and reversals I got him with 3 long bursts and he broke into Flame a real smoker I watched him go down in the trees to our west I had taken a few hits so landed at a friendly AF only to hit a pot hole, ( the enemy had bombed earlier) My landing broke apart and the ship ground looped. The medics said I should be back up in a few.

20. FAREWELLS

Berlin, 13 October 1916.

Julius was waiting for his father to return from the Ministry of War. The apartment on Friedrichstrasse was empty. The family’s sole remaining servant was having the evening off. The old man has good taste, I’ll give him that! Julius thought as he admired the modern Jugendstil furniture and art decorating the apartment. It was stylish, but not luxurious. His father was an admirer of Frederick the Great and liked to imitate the warrior king’s Spartan lifestyle. Hanging on the wall of his father’s study was an old photograph, which showed Georg as a young cadet. He was smiling happily next to Helga, Julius’s mother, who had passed away soon after his birth. Seeing the photograph always caused a melancholic feeling in Julius.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the front door opening. Soon the familiar, bulky shape of Oberstleutnant Georg Wilhelm Schreck appeared in the doorway. He seemed surprised to see Julius standing in his study.

“Julius? I thought you were at Johannisthal.”

“I needed to speak with you, father.” Georg said nothing as he walked over to his desk and lowered his briefcase next to it.

“I’m leaving to the front, father. To Hauptmann Boelcke’s Staffel in France. As soon as the Kommandant finds a replacement for me.”

Georg still stood facing away from Julius. After an awkward silence, he spoke. “I know, Julius. I know. And there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Why would you need to do something it? You are not in the Luftstreitkräfte!”

Finally, Georg turned around to face Julius. He seemed tired, as if time itself were finally catching up with him.

“Because I arranged your transfer to Johannisthal in the first place.”

Now it was Julius’s turn to remain silent. Ever since his last meeting with Dr. Hildebrandt, he had suspected his father’s involvement in his career. But to hear it from the old man himself was still something of a shock.

“Why, father? Do you think I’m not good enough to serve with the men at the front?”

Georg had a pained look on his face now. Clearly, the discussion was very uncomfortable for him.

“No, that is not what I think, at all.” He crossed his arms and began pacing back and forth in the study.

“Surely you understand that this has been a devastating year for our armies in the West. It’s true that we’ve repelled every enemy offensive – but at a terrible cost to ourselves. The casualties are staggering!” Georg stopped and looked at Julius again.

“And then Immelmann fell. I had thought… I had hoped, that in the Fliegertruppen, it would be relatively safe for you to serve. But things change so rapidly in this bloody war! So, I pulled some strings and got you a transfer to Berlin.”

Julius was now furious with his father. He wanted to shout and scream, but with an extreme effort, he managed to restrain himself.

“Did you ‘pull strings’ for Hermann too? Because he’s in the trenches right now, convinced that he’ll soon join the ranks of those staggering casualties!”

“It is what it is, my son. One day, you will have children of your own. And then you will understand”, Georg spoke with a calm voice. His face now had the typical stoic look Julius was so familiar with. It implied that arguing with the man was completely useless.

“From now on, you will stop interfering with my career! I will be the master of my own fate, not you!” Julius’s self-restraint finally failed, and he shouted angrily at his father. Frightened and angered by his outburst, Julius then spun around and stormed out of the study, leaving the elder Schreck standing alone by his desk.

***

Bahnhof Friedrichstrasse, 16 October 1916.

The platform of the Friedrichstrasse station was full of soldiers and their relatives, who had come to bid farewells to the men going back to the front. The ecstatically cheering and flower-carrying crowds of 1914 were only a distant memory now. The war had become ugly and serious, and glory had made way for simple survival. Leni and Julius were hugging each other among countless other Berliners doing the same thing.

“No tears, right?”

“No tears! There’s no need for them, because you’ll come home safe and sound!” Leni sounded very brave and determined to Julius. But her beautiful blue eyes betrayed her true feelings.

“Excellent! My brave little Leni”, Julius said and once more kissed Leni quickly on the lips. Then he let her go, picked up his old backpack, and boarded the train. Finding a seat in the crowded officer’s car, he peeked out of the window and waved at Leni. The train was slowly picking up speed. Julius could see Leni defiantly holding her chin up. Sunlight was reflecting from the tears flowing down her cheeks. Fighting back tears of his own, Julius stayed in the window and waved madly until Leni disappeared from his view, as the train followed the curving track on the other bank of the river Spree.

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Wonderful writing Hasse, simply wonderful. I hope Julius can survive the meat grinder he is about to get back into.

Carrick, nurses for Rene, eh? Perhaps he'll soon be sporting a woman's stocking round his head just like Navarre.

Fullofit, Toby makes me nervous the way he goes after those Rolands like they are Eindeckers. I fear his luck is going to run out if he keeps on with that tactic.

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I do hope that it is only the stockings

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Hey, to each their own. Just ask Chesty, (or maybe it's only a rumor that he wears a woman's support undergarment).

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What gets me is where the Navy got the signal to hoist " Maggie's Drawers "





































n

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I believe Maggie gave the signal herself after several hot buttered rums.

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After flying and writing (I'm trying hard to get Julius up to date), I've had some time to read the other fine reports in the thread. Good stuff!

Raine, an early Spud squadron! Definitely an interesting choice. IMO, we've had too few Spad pilots in our DID campaigns. I think the S.VII in unmodded WOFF is not the first variant, which came into service in the fall of 1916 and suffered from an underpowered engine. So James should have a good chance in fights against the Albatros D.II.
Lou, good job hunting down that pesky Hun intruder! It's great that WOFF occasionally offers such rare encounters, which are known to have happened in real life too.
Wulfe, good luck at Cachy! I enjoy reading about your pilots adventures in the Escadrille Americaine.
Harry, Julius is now stationed at Lagnicourt with Boelcke's boys. Maybe he'll get a chance to meet Lazlo at some point? Jasta 1 was his old unit, after all.
Fullofit, I see Toby continues to clear the skies of Huns with his Strutter. The poor old Fokkers are definitely outgunned and outmaneuvered when facing him.
MFair, just when said Drogo should be doing well in Jasta 7 with the Albs! I hope I didn't jinx him. Better luck with your next pilot.
carrick, I trust Rene will take good care of the nurses.

Rene, D. Lavasure
Sgt, ESC 68.
Rehabilitation Ward & Spa.
Bed 113, Bungalow 3.

28 Oct 1916.

My Nurse Josette said that my Hip is dislocated and my little finger is broken. I will be in her hands for about a week and she will administer the physical therapy.

Lou, stay away from Toby’s underwear drawer. And if you must know, he likes to call them “cupped suspenders”.

Raine: Hmm, Lazlo's going to keep a wary eye out for Collins and his Spad! Haven't seen any of those around as yet, but maybe he will soon. Congrats on the Halb!

Carrick: That looked like a Halb also! Too many of my comrades falling to all these skillful entente pilots

Hasse: Yes indeed, I feel a plot development coming on....


October 26th-28th 1916

Offiziersstellvertreter Lazlo Halasz
Jasta 1, Proville, Flanders, France

On the 26th, Lazlo's unit was moved further from the front to a new field at Pronville. The enemy advances were obviously worrying and Lazlo felt this was a sensible precaution. He didn't want to wake up one morning underneath a 65lb shell! On the 27th, Lazlo had managed to bring down his third balloon and was credited with his fifth victory. The irony wasn't lost on him, when the following day, they were directed to defend one of their own balloons just east of Bapaume. A lone DH2 was spotted approaching the area and was brought down by a combination of fire from Lazlo and other members of the unit. The kill was eventually awarded to Bethge.

After returning from the balloon defense mission, Lazlo walked into the officers' mess and overheard Leffers talking with Zander.

"Yes, that's right! It seems that Bolecke wanted him to join his merry band over there, to fly alongside that rising young star, Von Richthofen. What Boelcke wants, Boelcke gets, apparently".

"I wouldn't be too certain of that", said Hahn, who had just entered the room. He'd obviously been listening in on the conversation, along with Lazlo. "I'm afraid I have some very bad news for you all. Neither Julius or any other flieger will be accompanying Herr Boelcke in Jasta 2. I'm sorry to say that he lost his life earlier today in an accident. All the men present were shocked. Gasps of amazement and horror went around the room. Lazlo found himself immediately thinking back to the week before, when Boelcke had personally congratulated him on his promotion. Lazlo didn't really expect that he would be summoned to join Boelcke's unit, and he realized now that would never happen in any case.

"Oh my god, how terrible. This is a major loss for the Fatherland"., said Zander.

"Indeed it is", muttered Leffers. "I wonder if Julius will still transfer there, given this news".

"Well, who knows. Perhaps you'll find out soon enough. I received a telegram from Julius earlier today, saying he intends to drop in on us to say hello at some point." Both men had been friendly with Julius when the two Jastas had been stationed in Bertincourt, prior to Jasta 2's move to Lagnicourt. Lazlo remembered him vaguely, but had never had the opportunity to meet and speak with him back then. He couldn't help wondering if Boelcke had picked Julius over himself for Jasta 2. Not that it really mattered, now that Boelcke was dead. They just had to carry on with the fight. Lazlo sighed to himself and decided to get an early night.

To be continued....

Rene, D. Lavasure
Sgt, ESC 68.
Rehabilitation Ward & Spa.
Bed 113, Bungalow 3.


Oct 29. 1916.

A msg from the Commandant of Esc 68 was relayed to me by the Ward attendant . It read that my claim was turned in late and my kill was disputed. It seems that Archie claimed the same a/c. Being the lesser publicized service, the Army Field Corps felt that , as a matter of public Morale, the Kill should be awarded to the Archie thus my claim was denied.

Thanks Harry It would seem that the Air War is picking up as we near 1917.

Fullofit, Toby is creeping up on 30 victories. Outstanding!
Haase, there are going to be some amazing stories coming from Jasta 2. I loved the "Farewells" story. Wonderful stuff.
Carrick, congratulations on the flamer. Rotten that the Archie stole your credit. By the way, I suspect your ground loop was just an excuse to get back to one of those "special" hospitals you seem to find.
Harry, I'd forgotten that Laszlo and Julius were briefly at the same field. I'm looking forward to reading about a new meeting between our two valiant Huns!

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

Part Seventy-Six: In which I am shaken by a Hisso

The recording officer informed me at breakfast on 26 October 1916 that C flight’s morning patrol, scheduled for quarter to ten, was no longer to be a defensive patrol. Instead, we were to attack a new balloon that had appeared behind Bapaume. The replacement for poor Bolshie had not yet arrived and Child’s machine was still being worked on, so the job was left to Orlebar and me. I told Orly that we were not to dawdle over the lines. We would approach above the clouds that hung at 4000 feet and dive towards the target in the last three miles. My orders were then to climb due west and regroup over the Hun lines.

The Spad was a joy on mornings like this. No longer was it necessary to circle for nearly an hour to gain altitude, thinking all the while about the possible fight to come. The Spad came up to speed quickly, lifted off, and soared over the treetops into the morning air. Most mornings saw us take off into a south-west wind and this was no exception. Once up thousand feet, I throttled back and turned due east. Orly caught up with me a couple of minutes later, and together we began a steady climb south of Doullens, picking our way through the cloud cover. I estimated the time we would need before beginning our descent. Off to the south, a lone Caudron circled. To the north, a BE2 plodded homeward.

I counted off the minutes and then waggled my wings to signal the start of our descent. The moisture from the clouds streaked my windscreen with droplets and finally, we broke through. Below the mud and devastation of the front line. Bapaume lay beyond, a jumble of low brick houses and the church, some intact, some in ruins. And beyond that, and orange-brown sausage hung in the sky, catching the odd ray of sunshine that found its way through the cloud. I opened the throttle fully and the Spad surged ahead. From 300 yards, I began a steady patter of five-round bursts. The balloon came up quickly. I broke away to the left. Behind me, Orlebar pressed home his attack, and to my delight, the balloon burst into flame. I climbed away towards the lines, already at 4000 feet by the time I reached the German lines. There I circled and waited for Orly to form up.

I decided to follow the lines south towards the Somme before returning home. We were passing Fricourt when two brown Halberstadts appeared a little above us, heading north-east. They saw us and we saw them at the same time, and a smashing good scrap began. I was starting to get the hang of fighting in a Spad. Every time my Halberstadt approached head-on, I climbed a little, using the Spad’s superior speed. Gradually, in this manner, I gained a clear height advantage over the Hun. We passed each other head-on yet again. This time, instead of a gradual climb I zoomed and with full right rudder, came about in an “Immelmann” turn. This move let me catch the Hun as he banked about and I fired straight down into his cockpit. I saw him spiral downwards, flattened out, and landing field a mile behind our lines, close by narrow gauge rail line. I saw several soldiers running towards the German machine.


"Gradually, in this manner, I gained a clear height advantage over the Hun."

I could not stay to watch. Orly was about a half-mile off and a little farther south. His Hun looked like it might get the better of him, so I closed the distance between us as quickly as possible. His Hun was alert, though, and ran for home. We had a modest binge that night. We celebrated Orly’s balloon, and one of our battalions had phoned in my Halberstadt even before we landed.

The next morning I was to lead Child on a distant patrol to Vraignes where there was a Hun aerodrome. I was not particularly happy about this assignment. Most of our Spads were still under repair, and this was a long way to go with only two scouts. I need not have worried about how far I would fly into Hunland, for I had crossed the lines barely a mile when the Hispano-Suiza began to vibrate furiously. It felt like the entire engine was about to shake loose. I switched off just in time, as there was a strong smell of petrol in the cockpit. I had images of petrol spilling over the hot engine and began side slipping westward towards our lines. I spotted the large pond near the aerodrome at Chipilly, where I put down. Child escorted me back the whole way; my orders were not to proceed if left alone. I was able to get a ride back to Fienvillers in time to commandeer another Spad for the afternoon patrol.

Orlebar and I were to meet up with a pair of French Caudrons and escort them over the lines but when we got to the rendezvous point north-west of Albert, we found several Halberstadts scrapping with a couple of French Nieuports. Our friends in the Caudrons had long since given up and departed for home. Orly and I lent our weight to the fight, and before long I got a few rounds into one of the Halberstadts. The Hun tried to break for home but was unable to outdistance the Spad. It took two bursts before he put down into a field just east of Albert. I watched from above as a crowd of our boys in khaki helped the German pilot from his cockpit. I was shocked to realise that the Hun had landed in the very same field that yesterday’s Halberstadt had ended in! I wanted to drive out there and retrieve a souvenir, but by the time I landed I was far too tired to care.

On 28 October, we flew twice again. The afternoon patrol was interesting, a very long jaunt with Orly to the lines near Armentières. From there we were to patrol south past Arras. When we arrived, three of the new Albatros scouts approached from the north and we had a highly entertaining time of it for nearly ten minutes. I tried the same zoom and full rudder turn that I had used on yesterday’s Halberstadt. Once again, the Spad was able to catch the Hun in his own turn, and I fired straight down into its engine and cockpit. When last seen, the Albatros was tumbling earthward. The other Huns tired of the fight and, short of ammunition, Orly and I headed home. One of balloon detachments reported the crash.

In the past four days I had managed to down five Huns. Major Rodwell had a large chalkboard mounted in the mass to record our victories. He explained over drinks that he had wanted to do this for a while, but until we received our new scouts the prospect was too depressing. Now, with embarrassing emphasis, he took a piece of yellow chalk and wrote the number seventeen beside my name.

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Raine, Collins has quite the run going with his new mount, five victories in four days. Am I sensing a Bar to the MC in our Canadian hero's near future?

Carrick, tough break on the ground gunners getting the credit for Rene's kill. I'm sure nurse Josette can, and will, help him feel better about it all.

Fullofit, cupped suspenders? I thought perhaps it was a mansierre.

Harry, a nice intertwining of the Lazlo and Julius story lines. Terrible news though about Bolecke, a great loss for the fliegertruppen.

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Captain Swanson has been making the odd ground-based jaunt around the area in between his regular HE flying stints. He was invited to Sheerness on the 24th where the town elders presented him with a gift of a hundred pounds and a certificate of appreciation for the downing of the Aviatik over their city on the 22nd. He was also summoned, again, to General Henderson's office on the 26th where there was a great deal of discussion about the numerous articles in the papers concerning Swanson and his most recent actions, along with his investiture at the Palace. The General noted that, while he most certainly appreciated the Captain's service and commitment to the cause, the young man should put a greater effort into maintaining a somewhat lower profile. Being that he is a VC recipient, (which in and of itself requires that its bearer uphold proper decorum), HQ sees it a bit unseemly for Captain Swanson to be receiving so much press about his singular achievements when in fact it is the valiant efforts of all the men in uniform that will ultimately bring an end to the war. Swany couldn't have agreed more heartily with the General but went on to ask just what it was he was expected to do about it all. It wasn't as if he was running around looking for the accolades. After all, the press, and people in general, will do what they want to, and chasing after those they see as their heroes seems to be all the rage at the moment. The General understood the Captain's plight and could only say that he should simply continue trying to keep his head down as much as possible and get on with the work at hand. Upon being excused, Swany walked out onto the streets of London and was reminded numerous times within the first block that keeping one's head down while sporting the RFC wings, a VC, a DSO, an MC with Bar, a CdG, and three wound stripes was nigh on impossible.

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Harry, that was exactly the kind of story I was thinking about! Julius will have to pay a visit to Jasta 1 when the opportunity presents itself.
Raine, I can say from personal experience that WOFF does a pretty good job at recreating the infamous Hisso engine problems. Be careful out there!
Lou, at least they haven't sent Swany on a tour of the States yet, to drum up support for the Entente cause.

And now the latest from Julius...

21. BOELCKE

Lagnicourt, 18 October 1916.

The airfield of Jasta 2 was constructed on the southwestern side of the town Lagnicourt, which was located roughly halfway between Arras and Cambrai in France. The distance from the field to the front was not long, which made the place ideally suited for intercepting the Entente airplanes operating in the sector.

The field was bustling with activity when a supply truck from the nearest army Flugpark brought Julius there. Mechanics were busy working on the brand new Albatros fighters of the Staffel, and tents and sheds lined the field. The pilots were comfortably housed in buildings. A friendly NCO led Julius to the office of the Staffelführer, Hauptmann Oswald Boelcke. The famous aviator was studying what appeared to be reconnaissance photographs with a magnifying class. Smiling, he turned to greet Julius.

“Leutnant Schreck! Welcome to Lagnicourt!” Boelcke ignored military formalities and shook Julius’s hand firmly. The ace was shorter than average, which made him about the same size as Julius. He had blue eyes and a short blonde hair and seemed to be in excellent shape physically.

“How was the trip? Not too uncomfortable, I hope!”

“I’ve had worse. Trains tend to move very slowly these days, with all the urgent transports getting priority. The lorry that brought me here had some trouble with the muddy roads, but nothing too serious.” Julius took an instant liking to his new commanding officer.

“I’m glad to hear that. Now then, you must be wondering why you were suddenly assigned to my Staffel here”, Boelcke said with a curious look on his boyish face.

“To be honest, I have been thinking about it a lot, Herr Hauptmann.”

Boelcke smiled mischievously. “I’m sure you have! Well, it’s quite simple really. I have been given a carte blanche, as the French say, by the Feldflugchef himself. It means that I’m free to recruit promising pilots for my Staffel, anywhere I can find them. And I found you from Johannisthal! With four victories under your belt, you are almost a flying ace already. I got the impression that you’d rather be flying in a Staffel at the front than teaching rookies to fly at Johannisthal.”

“You got it right, Herr Hauptmann. May I ask who told you that?” Julius decided to try and see how much information he could squeeze out of his amicable Staffelführer.

Boelcke laughed in a disarming way. “You hear all kinds of things in my position! Maybe I’ll tell you later. But now, we have more pressing business to attend to. You already know the basics, having served at Bertincourt for many months. By the way, you have a fine Jasta there now, with some excellent pilots, such as Gustav Leffers and that rising star, Lazlo something, a very big and impressive looking fellow.”

“Gustav is a friend of mine. He showed me the ropes when I first arrived at the front.”

“Yes, he told me as much when I spoke with him a couple of days ago. Oh, lest I forget, he sends his greetings to you. They are doing well and are having a busy time shooting down all the British planes in their sector.”

Now it was Julius’s turn to smile happily. “That does sound like Gustav to me.”

Boelcke nodded and then changed the subject.

“In your opinion, what is the most important duty of a fighter pilot?”

“To shoot down enemy airplanes, Herr Hauptmann.” Julius answered without hesitation.

“Yes. And how should he try to achieve that goal?”

“By attacking aggressively.” Again, Julius replied instinctively to the question.

“Yes! You must be aggressive, but more importantly, you must fly and fight smart!” Boelcke was completely serious now. “When you see the big picture, the achievements of a single pilot are meaningless. The only thing that matters is the team effort. The enemy outnumbers us, so we must gain the advantage by better training and tactics.” He pointed to the field which was visible from the windows of the room.

“I want my men to become the best and smartest fighters of every flying corps in the world. Eventually, every Jasta will follow these same rules of combat, and we shall clear the skies of enemies! Of course, this means constant practicing of flying skills and tactics even when we are not assigned to combat duty. It will not be easy, but it will be necessary, if we intend to win this air war. And I intend to win it.” Boelcke looked back at Julius.

“I will do my best, Herr Hauptmann.” Julius couldn't think of anything better to say.

Boelcke nodded, then seemed to relax and began smiling again. “Now, let me give you a tour of our small base here. Word of your arrival must have reached all ears by now.” Boelcke directed Julius out of the room. When he stepped into the narrow corridor, he bumped straight into an officer carrying a large pile of maps. The maps scattered on the floor. Julius blushed and apologized to the man. He was taller than Julius, and just like Boelcke, he had blue eyes and blonde hair. The handsome young officer smiled and offered his hand to Julius.

“Don’t worry about it! You must be the new guy. My name is Richthofen. Manfred von Richthofen!”

Hasse: Nice one! Looking forward to Julian's visit Good luck with Jasta 2!

Raine: Collins is on a spree! Well done, sir!

October 29th 1916

Offiziersstellvertreter Lazlo Halasz
Jasta 1, Proville, Flanders, France

The Red Giant had found himself lost for words. It didn't happen often, but he had just left Zander's office having been told that he would lead Schwarm zwei on today's missions. Presumably his fifth victory had been what prompted Zander to give Lazlo this responsibility, and he didn't intend to take it lightly.

The morning mission was set to be a patrol of friendly lines between Vimy and Monchy. Lazlo was furious when his schwarm were jumped only minutes after takeoff. They drove the French Nieuports away eventually, but two machines were damaged. Not a good start, thought Lazlo, but not his fault at least. In the afternoon he was once again leading another patrol of their own lines. After just over an hour of constant vigil, Lazlo spotted what looked like a trio of Nieuports near the French side of the lines at about 2500 metres. He signaled his fellow pilots to climb and engage. One Nieuport came down while the other two stayed high. Lazlo with Zander behind him kept climbing for the two. Eventually they engaged. A twisting, turning fight ensued, but Lazlo was unable to gain any advantage. Eventually they broke off and returned to Proville.

That evening Zander sat next to Lazlo at the bar in the mess.

"Good work today, Lazlo. We have a leader in the making! You did well to avoid the enemy ambush this morning, and this afternoon you acquitted yourself well". Lazlo beamed at the praise, turning even redder than normal.

"I want to be first class leader, for the fatherland", declared Lazlo, raising his glass in a salute with Zander. "Down with the French airmen, and down with the British airmen, I will get them from the skies in every ways I can!". The mess rang out to the cheering of Jasta 1 pilots, at which point Lazlo promptly toppled off of his stool, landing in a heap on the floor.

"Watch out there!" cried Von Keudell, as he ran to the big man's aid. It took three of them to haul Lazlo back to his feet. "Hmm, I think you're going to have a sore head in the morning my dear chap. Perhaps you've had enough for tonight". Von Keudell helped Lazlo back to his hut, making sure he was alright before rejoining the party.

To be continued......

Good stories, guys

Rene, D. Lavasure
Sgt, ESC 68.
Rehabilitation Ward & Spa.
Bed 113, Cabana 11

Oct 30, 1916


They moved me around today. Now I am in the more convalescent ward will probably start Zee physical exercise program in a day or so. Mon dieu ! Got a new nurse as well.


https://giphy.com/gifs/u-tube-iIvtJvIcvaI3eAxVJh/fullscreen

Harry, Lazlo is quickly becoming the balloon specialist. Too bad about that “would be” invitation to join Jasta 2, by the man himself. Time to start impressing that upstart Richthofen.

Carrick, why don’t they “steal” some other pilot’s kills and give them to AA? Why does it always have to be Rene? Tough luck on that denied claim.

Raine, no need to creep - Toby blew past that number after latest mission.
Don’t you just hate it when you pump this gasbag full of lead and it still just hangs there, while your wingman sneezes and the thing explodes? Why not let him do all the work and swoop behind to finish the balloon off next time?
Congrats on that Halby and then the déjà vu. We need those weak SPADs to give the Germans a fighting chance.

Lou, mansierre? That’s a mouthful.
I have a solution for Swany for how to go unnoticed in London. Don’t wear anything. This way the public will not be able to see all the gongs.

Hasse, well now. Just in time to meet the legend and then bump into an even greater one and all without realizing it. Julius will have his hands full if he wants to keep up. Good luck with any future claims. I hear Manny likes to steal them.


29 October, 1916 07:50
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry
32 confirmed kills

The Eindecker shot down in flames and the Roland were confirmed as Mulberry’s latest victories.
Edwards, Draper and MacLenan were ordered to bomb factories at Pont-à-Mousson. Mulberry and Colburn accompanied the ‘A’ flight but were intercepted by a pair of Eindeckers east of the Puvenelle Forest, just south of Marbache. Toby evaded their initial attack and fired at one that swooped down in front of him. The burst was fatal. The German machine went into a spin and crashed below. That left only the one chasing after Colburn. Toby stuck to him like glue. The second Hun met exactly the same end as the first: cut linkages, a spin and a crash. When all flights returned home, the news of a confirmed kill of one of the Eindeckers already waited for Mulberry.

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