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#4496044 - 11/05/19 01:56 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: MFair]  
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Originally Posted by MFair
By the way, I’ve never seen her out of her habit!

MFair, you think she's catholic? eek2


"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."
#4496117 - 11/05/19 07:51 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Hasse, great episode on poor Boelcke's demise!

MFair, Ernst is off to a flying start (no pun intended)! You're getting good at this combat thing wink

Carrick, I had a tennis racket like that once. A bit limiting. Great vid smile

Raine, Collins is going great guns in his Spad (no pun intended)! Please lay off the Halbs... actually, don't worry. We've downgraded to Fokkers frown

Fullofit, nice vid. That Roland did not want to surrender! Loved the way it disappeared into the forest and then exploded!

Offiziersstellvertreter Lazlo Halasz, Eisernes Kreuz 2 Klasse
Jasta 1, Proville, Flanders, France

November 5th 1916

Lazlo sat in the office across from his commanding officer, Lt. Leffers.

"Congratulations on yet another balloon, Lazlo. You really are quite adept and bringing them down. Six victories, now. Only two behind me! I want you to lead this morning's patrol. Take the Schwarm over to the enemy's field at Boiry St Martin and then follow their lines north of Arras. Stay high, around 3500M. It's pretty nasty out there right now, but if you get above the cloud you may chance upon some French 2-seaters. Don't take any chances!"

"Yes, Sir!" Lazlo stood up, clumsily knocking his chair over as he snapped off a salute, then bending to retrieve and replace the fallen piece of furniture before exiting. Leffers sighed to himself. The man might be good at shooting down balloons, but he wasn't to be trusted in small spaces. Things tended to break when he was around. Leffers looked again at the file on his desk in front of him. Yes, nearly three months without any leave. Lazlo was due for a break from flying. A little time off tended to work wonders for his pilots. He resolved to inform Lazlo when he returned, that he would get ten days of recuperation, starting tomorrow.

Lazlo, blissfully unaware of his imminent vacation, settled into the cockpit of his new machine. None of the pilots had been particularly happy to get these ancient Fokkers. They had all hoped for the new Albatros, but it seemed that Richthofen's lot had the only ones available. Still, he was getting used to his. He had complained to Von Keudell that it flew like a crab. Von Keudell had corrected him, pointing out that crabs couldn't fly. Lazlo found that, contrary to expectations, he needed to apply a little right rudder most of the time, especially when turning left. Young Alexander Blank, his rottenflieger, who was something of a mathematics wizard and a keen student of aeronautics, had tried to explain the theory of wing warping and why the Fokker had "fishing reels" (as Lazlo called them) to guide the wire bracing for the wings.

They took off and Lazlo forced himself to concentrate on the task at hand. He was still not used to having to focus on navigation at all times. Today, with very poor visibility, he was already finding it a challenge. Nevertheless, eventually he managed to steer schwarm zwei to the objective, and began a lazy tour north along enemy lines. They passed Arras, eventually making the turn back south by Thelus. Lazlo wondered how they would ever spot anything in this terrible weather. After about twenty minutes of patrolling, Lazlo decided to make the turn eastwards. He glanced back at his formation, having set his compass and pointed his machine eastward. Suddenly he heard a hail of bullets strike and a sharp pain from his left thigh jolted him. Turning, he caught the briefest glimpse of an enemy machine coming straight towards him. Instinctively he began to take evasive action. He could smell fumes and saw a vapour trail coming from his machine. This was very bad, thought Lazlo. More bullets! Lazlo threw the Fokker into a looping dive. Looking over his shoulder he caught a glimpse of his pursuer. A moment later his engine died! Lazlo's heart was in his mouth as he quickly checked his compass. Urging the powerless machine down, he looked behind him again. Nothing! Mercifully it seemed that his foe had either lost interest or was otherwise engaged. He hoped and prayed that his flight mates were taking care of things for him. Lazlo was finally able to land his Fokker on a dirt road about 500M behind friendly lines. He climbed out, dusted himself down and saw the tear in his tunic, warm blood matting his upper leg. A voice startled him.

"Looks like you've got a bit of a wound there, big fellow! Follow me, and we'll get it dressed for you". The kindly infantryman led Lazlo to a medic who was able to get him bandaged up. Transport was arranged for Lazlo and his machine was covered by canvas blankets until it could be recovered. He'd had a very lucky escape!




* I've always thought it would be cool to suddenly meet an E/A coming out of the clouds. If only Lazlo hadn't been looking the wrong way when it finally happened, and it happened so quickly at that! I used a slo-mo editing feature so you can make out some of what happened here. Unfortunately this seems to mess up the YT encoding, so it's only low resolution frown






Last edited by HarryH; 11/05/19 07:54 PM.
#4496126 - 11/05/19 08:48 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit, I think so.

Harry, boy howdy was that close! The difference between a dead man and a hero is only “that much.” Glad Lazlo is still with us.

Fw Ernst Everhardt
Ugny Field, Flanders
Nov. 5th, 1916

Ernst flew another patrol on the afternoon of the 4th. They had no contact and he was amused to watch Holler singing in his Albatros while on patrol. He had no idea what he was singing but the way he was moving his head back and forth moving his mouth he knew he was singing.

Kette Eins was off at 10 am this morning to patrol enemy lines west of Marchelepot. Same wind , rain and cold as yesterday. Southwest of Peronne. Ey suddenly turned toward the west. Ernst had not seen them before but now they were closing in on what had to be Coudron’s. His 3 mates closed on one and were taking turns with it so Ernst went after the other. He made 5 passes on the beast before it finally went down over NML. Again he could not see his flight and returned to Ugny on his own.

Back at base he reported he had shot down one of the Coudron’s. Wulfe asked him for details. Once he realized Ernst was talking about one of the two they attacked he burst out laughing. “I put that one out of action on our first pass! Did you not see the pilot collapse at the controls?”

Ernst stammered a bit “Well, no sir. It turned right and you and the others went for the other one. It went down in a slow spiral. I followed it down almost to the ground! It was under control!”

Wolf straightened up and looked hard at Ernst. “Why do you think we all went for the one on the left?” Ernst just stood looking at Wulf. He continued, “We all went for the one on the left because I hit the pilot with my first burst and it was over for him. They don’t all go down in a ball of fire Herr Everheardt. You may be a very good pilot and a crack shot, but, you have a lot to learn about fighting in the air. Anything Else?”

Ernst immediately said “no Sir!”

Wulf sat down at his desk and said, “dismissed.”


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!
#4496133 - 11/05/19 11:31 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Harry, when I saw that Roland successfully land in the middle of the forest I thought that was the luckiest sod I had the pleasure of shooting down. That is until I saw him finish in a ball of dust.
Now, Lazlo is another one of those lucky sods. Like MFair said, that was close. Lazlo definitely is brave to fly this death trap of a Fokker.

MFair, so our rising star has learned how victories are being snatched by any man that lands first and claims it for his own. All is fair in love and war.


5 November, 1916 07:55
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry DSC&Bar, DSO
32 confirmed kills
Awaiting 1 claim confirmation

Those bloody Rolands! Always getting in the way. They were closing in on the target when Toby noticed two of the vultures circling the field. The Strutters were able to drop their bombs on the hangars before the Walfisches were upon them. Mulberry was able to place a few rounds in one, then left him to Colburn to finish him off. Toby in the meantime switched to the second Boche. Rolands weren’t napping either and returned the favour, perforating Toby’s wings. He was able to get a burst into the fuselage while the German attempted a hammerhead turn and then disappeared below scampering for the nearest airfield. Mulberry didn’t follow, but watched from afar as one of the Huns reached safety of its aerodrome. They’ve regrouped and left Mars-la-Tour aerodrome burning.

YouTube Link



"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4496143 - 11/06/19 12:37 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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“Hello stranger!” Gwilym Lewis declared with a smile. “Long time no see... I say, 'no see.' Hahaha!”
William Stanley stood in the entrance of the hangar with a pained expression.
“What's that?” asked a pilot that Stanley hadn't seen before.
Stanley replied with a curt nod in the Welshman's direction. “Lieutenant Lewis is making a jest at my expense. I was sent home with an eye infection. Couldn't see. Couldn't fly. It took me over a month to persuade the doctors that I could come back. Meanwhile, Lewis has not become any more amusing; I see. How does it go Bill?”

“It has been good. We had a record week leading into October, and then it has been dud weather ever since. I'm glad it has cleared up for you. Are you back?”

“Sadly not. I'm waiting in the pilots' pool. What's with Curphey?”

Curphey was running from the direction of the squadron office toward them.
“Huns!” He cried. “Spotted heading our way!”
“Well!” Lewis declared, “let's go and get them!”
“Mind if I tag along?” Stewart asked. He didn't wait for an answer before he started for one of the DH2s.

Two Rolands were within sight even as the DH2s clambered into the sky. One remained high, but the other dived down.
“This one fancies himself a champion eh?” Stanley thought to himself.
The DH2s of Stanley, Curphey, Lewis and Robb curved around to attack the two seater. The Roland was a fearsome fighting machine and the gunner was a danger. The four British pushers swarmed the machine and Stanley put in a burst at about 70 yards.

To his surprise the Roland's engine began to smoke and the German machine went into a dive that ended with a high speed collision with the trees lining the road north west of Vert Galand junction.

“I didn't expect that!” Stanley muttered in astonishment.

There was much celebration through the afternoon at 32 squadron. Parts of the Roland were brought into the officers' mess as decorations. In the reports, Stanley claimed a partial share with Lewis and Curphey.


On returning to St Omer, Stanley was greeted with several messages.
He tossed the letter addressed in Diana's hand away without opening it, but focussed on the telegram.

“Acting Captain WAG Stanley promoted to full Captain. To proceed to 60 squadron immediately.”

Stanley looked thoughtfully at the message.
“60? what do they fly?”

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Statistics as of 31st October 1916

Captain William A G Stanley
no medals
114 missions 114.92 hours active duty
5 confirmed victories (including that Roland) 11 claims
60 Squadron RFC Savy

#4496155 - 11/06/19 02:24 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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The stories are getting detailed. Good writing all. Well made vid Harry H and Full of it

#4496157 - 11/06/19 02:41 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,
Verdun France,

Sqn Totals:
16 Flyable a/c
12 Combat ready
8 Pilots.

Nov 5. 1916.

Smash up with Zee Bosche to day, My early Solo Patrol was a DUD But Zee second flight was a winner. Our 3 machines on offensive Patrol bounce 2 Hun a/c . Mine , an older model , was low and slow. I was able to coast up his prop-wash to 200 ft and my Lewis barked off 56 rds. the e/a nosed over and crashed amid a convoy. Wing man saw it all. Totals for the fight 2 e/a destroyed and 1 Truck.
Our side 1 lost + 1 damaged.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-11-05 17-37-23-19.jpgCFS3 2019-11-05 18-00-36-27.jpgCFS3 2019-11-05 18-01-07-64.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 11/06/19 02:43 AM.
#4496158 - 11/06/19 02:47 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Harry H : I tried to learn to play tennis last summer with a group of people ( 5 Females + 2 men ) ended up having all of them telling me how to play so I went to the Pool instead.

#4496255 - 11/06/19 10:36 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: carrick58]  
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Originally Posted by carrick58
Harry H : I tried to learn to play tennis last summer with a group of people ( 5 Females + 2 men ) ended up having all of them telling me how to play so I went to the Pool instead.

I don't blame you wink

Maeran, Hello! I see Capt Stanley has been quietly getting on with things wink. Looking forward to hearing more about '60' sqd.

Fullofit, Lazlo has no choice in the matter. Just hoping he'll avoid trouble until those buggers in command send us some Albs!

Lazlo went up on a solo this morning looking for the damned Frenchman who had shot him up the day before. He had to borrow Von Keudell's machine as his was still on its way back. Just as terrible as his own machine. After an hour of freezing rain he'd had enough and returned home. Long defensive patrol in the afternoon up at Lille, then back home for tea and off to the railway station!

Lazlo will be on leave for about 10 days. Have fun everybody, and stay safe up there!!!

H

#4496269 - 11/07/19 12:19 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Maeran, looks like those transfers are very popular. Just like those Rolands.

Carrick, where did you find that old kite? In a museum?

Harry, enjoy the time off. Hope Lazlo goes back home to find out he's very famous there.


6 November, 1916 08:45
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry DSC&Bar, DSO
33 confirmed kills

The Roland from two days ago was now confirmed.
They were ordered to attack the Verdun NE junction rail yard. Draper accompanied them on this outing and followed the pair just 100 yard behind. The Flak was heavier than usual when they were crossing into the Hunland and wasn’t any lighter over the target. Nevertheless they’ve scored good hits on the supply sheds and the maintenance structures. Thankfully there was no contact with the enemy planes and they were on their way back . As they were crossing back over the No-Man’s Land, Colburn was hit by Flak but continued on. He bled out and crashed. Toby noticed his absence only some miles later. He didn’t even realize what had happened to his wingman until he landed at the airfield and learned of his fate from a telephone call received through the office. The funeral will be in two days. This was not the only news. He was summoned to Captain Elder’s office and was told he was being transferred to a newly forming unit in Flanders. The H.Q. called in and requested most promising pilots to be sent immediately. Toby was to pack, settle his tab at the mess and take the train to Amiens tomorrow.

[Linked Image]

Attached Files 1916-11-06.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."
#4496273 - 11/07/19 12:44 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Maeran, good to see you back!
Harry, enjoy your leave Sir!
Carrick,
I hope she is confirmed.
Fullofit, nice video as always Pard.

Fw Ernst Everheardt
Ugny airfield, Flanders
Nov. 6, 1916

At 10am flight Zwei was up to escort a Roland to bomb an army base south of Cappy. As the flight of 4 took off they were attacked by at least 3 Nieuports! Ernst climbed, then dropped down on the tail of one and began a twisting fight at tree top level. It was over quick as the Nieuports wing collapsed and it crashed near the field. He saw another ahead and was coming up behind it when Holler dropped down and sent the Englishman to his grave. Three of the flight formed up. Ey was nowhere to be seen. It was then that Ernst’s legs seemed to turn to jelly. The adrenaline rush was over. He had to fight to make his body control the machine and stay in formation. Once at altitude he had settled down. He took a few deep breaths to gather his wits as he realized they were going over enemy lines.

The flight met the Roland and proceeded to their destination. Crossing the lines, Mallinckodt signaled engine trouble and turned back. Now only Hollar and Ernst were left. Fortunately they did not meet the enemy over the lines. Once they arrived at the target the flight circled for 10 minutes while the Roland did his work. As they turned for home Ernst realize how exhausted he was. They made it home without incident.

As Ernst pulled himself from the cockpit, his mechanic, Bert, helped him to the ground. The mechanic had a big grin on his face. “Why the big grin Bert?” Ernst asked.

“Ifetched you another souvenir Herr Everhardt! I retrieved the Lewis gun from the English machine you downed. I have her all safe in the hanger. She is bent a bit but thought you might want it.”

“Well, that’s wonderful! Thank you very much!”

There was another celebration in the mess as Jasta 6 had claimed 2 more Englishman. Confirmation was just a formality as the prove was just a short walk from the airfield.


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!
#4496278 - 11/07/19 01:11 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks MFair.
Congrats on another victory. If it continues like that, Ernst will be able to put together a new Nieuport form spare parts. Where is that Gong Fairy? Still trying to put that habit on?


"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."
#4496286 - 11/07/19 03:33 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Maeran, welcome back! Wonderful to see Stanley in a great story.
Fullofit, great video. I'm really looking forward to reading about your new squadron.
Carrick, good luck with the claim.
MFair, Everhardt is off to a roaring start. Well done!

Here's a bit of excitement from Collins…

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

Part Eighty: In which I meet the enemy


Two days of cloudy, wet weather. On the afternoon of 4 November we were to patrol along the lines south of Arras. I led Child and Orlebar again, plus a new man named Plympton, just transferred in from a Martinsyde squadron. I chose to climb all the way to the front rather than circle for height. The key to managing the Hispano-Suiza, I had discovered, is to avoid flying at full throttle too long. Climbing very gradually helped. That was the theory, at least.

Or it was until we approached Beaumetz-lès-Loges. Then all hell broke loose. A connecting rod end bearing went, screeching away until a loud bang and a spray of oil put an end to my day and I glided back to the aerodrome at La Bellevue.

The second patrol of the day on 5 November took off at 3:45 pm and saw Child, Orlebar, and I head towards Arras again. Arriving over the lines at 9500 feet, we began our first leg northeast towards Monchy. It is necessary close to the lines to examine the sky in segments. Nowhere is this more important than when looking downwards. Hostile aircraft blend into the ground so easily that it is extremely difficult to pick them out until they approach to within a half-mile. I had been taught to scan each sector from right to left because one’s eyes naturally dance over things when going left to right; that is the way we are used to skim the written word. So it was that I was peering over the right side of the cockpit when I noticed two machines far below heading north-east over no man’s land. Even from a mile and a half above them, the white squares on their wings – on which the Maltese crosses were painted – gave them away as Huns. I waggled my wings and began a long dive to catch our prey.

Before we could get within range, the two HAs broke left and right, turning to meet us. I selected the one on the right and flashed past it, firing all the way. I zoomed and turned, looking for my target. It was only then that I realised that neither Orlebar nor Child had followed me into the fight. One of the enemy machines – they were Halberstadts – was circling back towards me. The other had disappeared, likely heading home. My next head-on pass was more successful than the first. I could see my tracers disappearing into the Huns’s fuselage and I was able to turn and get behind the fellow. I had him cold and began to close the distance for the coup de grace.

Suddenly, rounds began to smash into my machine. The windscreen shattered. Two jagged, splintered holes appeared in the instrument panel. The engine sounded odd. And I tried to bank the machine to the right but instead the left side of the machine drooped downwards in a forty-degree left bank. There was no lateral control other than what I could produce with the rudder. The power died away; it was hopeless. The mud and shattered trees and barbed wire came up quickly. I pressed on the right side of the rudder bar with all my strength, trying to keep the nose up as I sideslipped closer and closer to the earth. The Spad hit with a thud and a cracking of longerons. It bounded into the air in a wave of mud and water, slammed back to earth and skidded, smashing into unseen obstacles. Just before what little was left of the Spad came to a stop, it slid sideways over the lip of a large shell crater and with a couple of bone-jarring lurches, slithered into a putrid muddy pond.

For a moment I hung sideways in the cockpit as greenish brown water poured in. I was alive and relatively unhurt. I unbuckled and slid over the side, disappearing up to my chest in the filthy stew at the bottom of the crater. For a moment I could not pull my feet from the treacly mud at the bottom. The massive weight of my sodden clothing fixed me in place. A surge of panic short-circuited my brain and I feared that I would sink deeper into the slime and disappear forever. With intense effort, however, I hauled myself along the fuselage towards the broken tail of my machine and, stepping onto the higher side of the tailplane, reached the greasy bank of the shell crater.

It must have been about 4:30 PM and the sun was dimming in the grey and cloudy sky. That is when I first heard a welcoming voice. A small problem – it was a German voice.

Grüss Gott, Englander!” It said. “Wilkommen in unseren Trichter. Und für Sie übrigens is der Kreig vorbei.

I didn’t understand a word of this at the moment. The speaker was a short and very muddy officer in a grey field cap. He was pointing a nasty pistol at me. Behind him, three other Hunnish soldiers in filthy greatcoats were laughing. With them sat a gloomy British private. One of the three German soldiers, a sergeant I believe, began in English. “The boss says welcome to our hole – and by the way, the war is finished for you.” The man introduced himself. His name was Josef and he had been a waiter in Birmingham before the war. It seemed that they had been out on a snatch patrol the previous night and had been stranded here when the sun came up before they regained their lines. We were apparently about seventy-five yards from the German lines on one side and about two hundred yards from the British lines on the other side. Josef introduced me to Private Meighan, whom they had snatched from his listening post the night before. Meighan looked only slightly less displeased to meet me than to have met the Germans.

The officer said something and glanced at his watch. Each of the others rummaged through pockets and packs looking for cigarettes. I understood that they had been given permission for a last smoke before darkness set in. Josef explained that they would likely lie low until about eleven before crawling back to their own trenches. “We do not have a password that is good after midnight,” he said.

“I’m sure Meighan here can talk safely into his trenches after midnight if you’d like to get a bit of sleep,” I suggested. This produced a chuckle from Josef, and he translated it for the officer. The officer laughed and shook his head. I cadged a smoke from one of the Huns and laid back in the mud to wait for darkness. A series of distant pops sent my new friends scurrying down to the water’s edge. I remained where I was, blissfully unaware. Seconds later, for violent explosions showered mud over us all, and rattle of dull thuds shocked me as bits of shrapnel pounded into the far bank of crater. One could hear the hot metal hissing in the mud.

“Mortars. They are looking for your machine,” Josef said. “Let us hope they do not find it.” The mortaring continued for five minutes and bombs dropped all around us without finding our hole. I asked if there was time for one more cigarette when it was all done, but the German officer understood my sign language and shook his head to say no. The outline of my Spad turned gradually to a blue shadow against the black wall of the crater. A yellow-white necklace of tracer drifted bright against the dark sky over our heads.

“That will be my mate Tipper,” said Meighan. “Always gives the b*stards a belt from the Vickers at stand-to. Good on him.”

TO BE CONTINUED…


#4496291 - 11/07/19 04:30 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,
Verdun France,

1 e/a confirmed
1 Trk confirmed


Nov 6, 1916.


Morning Patrol was a washout. Afternoon was good hunting. my flight was going in and out of clouds when I spotted our rover a/c being attacked below. I went low as fast as the N-16 was able ,but too late to stop the e/a from shooting him down. I popped on tail chased while firing off Lewis rds. Finally over Toul, The e/a caught fire and rolled over crashing into the earth at low altitude. I filed a claim upon RTB, but army said no one Reported it. Since I was alone with no witness It will be Un confirmed. Score 1 to 1.

Attached Files CFS3 2019-11-06 19-37-52-84.jpgCFS3 2019-11-06 19-45-41-03.jpgCFS3 2019-11-06 20-05-08-28.jpgCFS3 2019-11-06 19-59-11-97.jpgCFS3 2019-11-06 19-58-41-82.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 11/07/19 04:31 AM.
#4496308 - 11/07/19 10:35 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Great pics, carrick! thumbsup


WOFF UE, BOC member, Albatros pilot.

#4496322 - 11/07/19 11:38 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: May 2012
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RAF_Louvert Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
RAF_Louvert  Offline
BOC President; Pilot Extraordinaire; Humble Man
Senior Member

Joined: May 2012
Posts: 3,686
L'Etoile du Nord
.

Carrick, Rene is keeping busy since his return to active duty. Some super screenshots. And I think your retreat to the pool from all that tennis "help" was a sound move.

Raine, a cliffhanger! Can't wait to see which way Collins heads, but I certainly hope it's to the friendly side. And a clever follow-up in your earlier episode on the whereabouts of Camille. Too bad about poor Sheeley.

Hasse, a moving account of Boelke's end. Beautiful bit of writing.

Maeran, nice catching up on William's story. Rolands pecking away at him as well I see. And 60 Squadron you say, that should prove most interesting.

Fullofit, those Rolands certainly do get around. Good to see that Toby and his lot managed to survive them repeatedly. Nice videos, as always. And a transfer for him as well? Oh the anticipation.

Harry, that was a close call for your fellow. I hope Lazlo enjoys his well-earned leave, a break from his less-than-satisfactory mounts will be most welcomed I imagine.

MFair, a wonderful introduction to your new man, and he's an artist to boot. Ernst seems to be adapting quickly to life as a combat pilot in the fliegertruppen. Four victories already, outstanding, despite the dressing down he received from Wulfe. Also, that Holler fellow is a hoot.

.

Captain Swanson and his small crew at Stow Maries continue to have a quiet time of it as far as the Hun are concerned. Nary an enemy to be seen in the skies for over a fortnight now, and it should be noted that no one at 37 Squadron is complaining about it.

.

#4496410 - 11/07/19 11:33 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,594
Fullofit Online content
Senior Member
Fullofit  Online Content
Senior Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 2,594
Ajax, ON
Gentlemen, thank you for the kudos on the moving picture report.

Raine, that had to be one nasty spill. Glad Collins is still with us albeit in a precarious situation. The Germans don't worry me as much as that greenish-brown water. Hepatitis comes to mind. Next time try to crash into a shell crater with clean water.

Carrick, that looked like a slam-dunk. Rene has the worst luck. Maybe he should paint a few nudes to console himself?

Lou, the Huns have Swaney figured out - let him rot in England, while they do all the damage in France and Belgium, ja?


7 November, 1916 07:50
Ochey, Verdun Sector
3 Wing RNAS
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry DSC&Bar, DSO
33 confirmed kills

Toby was packed and ready for his trip to the new aerodrome but ‘Daddy’ had a final favour to ask of him before he left. The new man that was to replace Toby, FL Ethan Whieldon, needed an orientation flight and Mulberry couldn’t say no to his C.O. They were sent to patrol friendly front lines east of Pont-à-Mousson. The weather was promising despite the low hanging cloud cover. Toby knew they will be treated to a sunny sky once they clear the grey clouds. They began to roll and Toby quickly gained some height. He looked back at the new man’s machine following to his starboard and somewhat at a lower altitude. He continued with curiosity to follow Ethan’s progress. The man dove under Toby’s wing to gain extra speed in order to catch up and then banked left to form up. His turn was clumsy and rather abrupt, placing his machine directly on a collision course with Toby’s Strutter. If Mulberry hadn’t jinked to avoid the other man’s misjudged turn, the mission would be over very quickly with two crumpled wrecks falling towards the earth. This did not bode well for the new pilot and Toby had to be constantly aware of the other man’s position. Each turn was a challenge. Finally they’ve reached the front at 10,000 ft and began their race track patrol. Toby was quickly reminded of his own orientation flight of the area not too long ago. Just like then, there were no enemies to spoil their training flight and after the prescribed time the two ship formation turned back to Ochey. Toby made sure Whieldon landed first. Once back on the ground he gave Ethan a few pointers, especially to be always aware where the rest of the flight is and to make sure never to fly in front of other planes, especially the enemy. He said his goodbyes and climbed into the cab of the tender that would take him to the train station. He was off to Flanders.

YouTube Link



"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4496419 - 11/08/19 01:20 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,672
MFair Offline
Senior Member
MFair  Offline
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Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,672
Raine, another cliff hanger. I sure hope James makes it back. Great description of the shell hole.
Carrick, I will second elephant. Great pics.
Fullofit, it would be a real tragedy for Toby to be done in by a rookie! Good luck with the new squad.


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!
#4496422 - 11/08/19 02:11 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,660
Raine Online content
Member
Raine  Online Content
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Joined: Jul 2014
Posts: 1,660
New Brunswick, Canada
Carrick, congratulations on the first victories.
Lou, enjoy a bit of relaxation in England. It won't last long once Swanson is back in France.

Here is the rest of Collins's story. This is a case of literally reading "between the lines."

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

Part Eighty- One: In which I am captured yet again



The evening grew progressively darker and colder, and I shivered uncontrollably in my dripping clothes. The night sounds punctuated my misery: the sigh of wind gusts brushing the scrubby tufts of grass at the rim of our shell hole, the occasional creak from my ruined Spad, and the splashing of a rat in the water at the bottom of the hole.

“Look at the fat devil,” said Josef, the former waiter. “He is eating that poor man’s face.” A dark, bloated form drifted in the muddy pond.

“Oh God, that’s disgusting.”

“Something you do not see in the air,” said Josef. “We call it Tommy soup.”

I thought of the shoddy Persian rug, the good port, and the warm stove in my Nissen hut. I wanted to go home. Besides, I had just started the latest PG Wodehouse. I wondered which of the boys would claim it back at the squadron.

Meighan must have been a mind reader. “I’ll take my chances with whizz-bangs any day before you’d catch me up in one of those things.” A flare popped somewhere overhead, illuminating our crater in icy blue-white light, split by long black shadows. One machine gun, then another, and then a third began firing over our heads from the direction of the German lines. The flare lowered and died away, leaving us blinded in the dark. The machine guns continued.

We didn’t hear them at first but rather sensed motion in the dark. The officer with the pistol fumbled for his holster. Before he reached it, a thick London-accented voice barked at him, “Don’t move or I’ll blow yer bleedin’ ‘ead off.”

Bayonets glistened in the dark and grenade pouches thumped and rattled as shape after shape slid down the side of the crater. My captors were caught unprepared. Josef hoarsely ordered his two privates, who raised their hands slowly. The German officer said something angrily to Josef, who responded with a shrug and something that sounded cynical. Then Josef said in English, “You can shoot that idiot if you want but we won’t give you trouble.” The German officer must have understood the gist of this, for he also now raised his hands.

I must have stupidly been watching this scene play out as if in a motion picture because I remained hunched over with my arms folded in front of me, still shivering. There was a blinding flash and a stunning bang directly in front of my face. I felt the crack of a bullet hitting the crater wall behind my head and splattering my back with mud. “Show us yer ‘ands, ye filthy Boche bugger,” the man with the rifle in my face said. The bolt snapped back into position. “Or I’ll put the next one right in yer clock.” Convinced by the man’s power of persuasion, I raised my hands.

“You can relax,” I said. “I’m on your side. So is he.” I jerked my thumb in the direction of Meighan.

“You sound like a Yank,” said the man with a rifle in my face.

“I’m Canadian actually. Captain Collins, Royal Flying Corps.”

“I don’t give a tinker’s if you’re a flying pasty. Keep yer hands up.” I was still trying to decipher this when another fellow took control of the situation and ordered the man with a rifle in my face to relieve my Hunnish companions of their weapons. He motioned for me to stand and approach him. My knees and legs were weak with the cold and shock of my crash landing, and I must have appeared half drunk to him. He asked how I came to be here and I replied that I had flown in, and pointed to the ruined Spad. He asked my name again and I told him.

“Are you the Zeppelin Collins?”

“Yes, but right now I’m the soaked to the bone, sore as hell, and glad to meet you Collins,” I said.

“Sorry, sir, but I need you to open your coat.” I knew what he was after, so I unbuttoned my flying coat and held it open. The sergeant, for that’s what he was, peered at my tunic and the row of ribbons. “I’ll be buggered,” he said. “It looks like we’d better be getting you home, sir.”

My night vision was back and I was surprised to see nearly a dozen armed men in khaki now huddled around the bottom of the crater. It was a small fighting patrol that had been caught by the German machine-gun fire. Meighan was passed over to them and seemed to know a couple of the men. The sergeant ordered a corporal by the name of Pearson to take me quietly back to their lines. He instructed Pearson to arrange for a diversionary stonk on the German positions opposite at exactly two in the morning, at which time he would extract the others. I asked the sergeant to treat Josef decently as he was a good sort. And with that, Pearson and I clambered up the side of the shell hole and began a long and exhausting crawl through mud and wire.

It was well after midnight before the password was given and we were manhandled over a parapet and into a frontline trench. Corporal Pearson guided me along a labyrinth of duck boards to his company position, and from there down a winding communication trench to a deep dugout with hessian draped in layers over the entrance steps. At the bottom of the steps, I pulled aside another curtain of hessian and entered a spacious room with a planked floor and tin roof. Snoring figures huddled in cots tucked into little cubbyholes in the wall. A trestle table in the middle of the room was cluttered with glasses, a London illustrated News, and a brass hunting horn. Best of all, two kerosene lanterns gave off both light and heat. An officer, older than the others, sat at the table smoking his pipe. He wore a heavy blue woollen sweater tucked into his trousers so that his braces could be worn on top. Pearson came to attentìon and introduced me. The major held up a finger for me to wait while he awoke another officer with instructions for battalion mortars and the diversionary bombardment. He turned back to me. “Major Warrington’s my name. And you’re the Zep killer. So what are you doing out over the top, sitting in a crump-hole with a bunch of Jerries?”

“Freezing, actually, sir.” I described my afternoon’s entertainment, my time with Josef and my other hosts, and my rescue by the fighting patrol. The major noticed that I was still shivering and ordered me out of my wet clothes, supplying a warm set of woollen pyjamas and a lovely dry greatcoat. He stoked a small stove and the best of all, he poured three fingers of whisky into a dirty glass and threw me an unopened pack of Murads. Wonderful fellow that he was, he sent for some food and topped my glass twice over. The food arrived, a fairly bland stew enlivened by the major’s personal supply of an Indian pepper sauce. By the time the stew was finished, I was falling asleep over my dish. He pointed to his own cubbyhole but I had noticed a stuffed armchair by the far wall and I staggered over to it, stretched myself diagonally across the chair, and was asleep in seconds.


#4496460 - 11/08/19 11:47 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Dec 2012
Posts: 2,672
MFair Offline
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MFair  Offline
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Raine, splendid yarn my friend! I was expecting a drown out prison stay. Excellent.


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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