Ahhhhh, with two Chamber maids Zee Esc is a happy place. No dust bunnies in the Chateau upstairs or down. No problem with Replacements arriving except that more show up than were request ? It must be Zee Esc colorful Banner or that they can fly for France. No matter with more Rain, Zee Wine will flow and maybe a checker game or two by the fireplace, However, on a sad note there are rumors about a rising German Baron with 9 Kills more a calculating flying machine than a man.
Last edited by carrick58; 11/19/1901:56 AM.
#4497730 - 11/20/1902:04 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
The snow began to fall on the 17th in the evening, continued through the 18th and didn’t stop till late on the 19th. The first snowfall of the season was not substantial but sufficient to keep all the pilots on the ground. Boredom settled in quickly and between drinking games and weak attempts to build le bonhome de neige, men grew restless but in good spirits. Toby discovered the soothing properties of mulled wine. It tastes the best by the window with snowflakes coming down outside. The next morning the engines were being warmed up early for a bombing run SE of Bapaume. The landscape changed significantly with snow partially covering the ground. It was as if someone powdered it with icing sugar. The roads were easier to see with the snow outlining them on each side. Flight Sub-Lieutenant Theobald in his Strutter was approaching the target - a sleepy troop camp suddenly roused by the aero engines rumbling overhead. The ‘B’ flight observed the mayhem from high above. Soldiers running in all directions. Bombs exploding in the middle of the camp. Spooked horses running away blindly. Then dark smoke and quiet. Only a ring of men around the fires passing buckets of water to put out the flames agitated the scene. But there was something else. Someone else was watching. Toby noticed a two-seater skulking around under cover of the rising sun. He chased the enemy machine all the way to Lechelle. He kept his prey above with the rear gunner out of view, then closed in and opened fire. The Walfisch didn’t expect the attack, but reacted instantly and dove for safety of the aerodrome’s guns. Mulberry gave chase in an attempt to bring down his foe before it was too late. He sprayed the Roland with gunfire along the entire length of the fuselage and the flames began to lick the enemy plane. Toby knew it was over, but the rear gunner of the burning Walfisch disagreed. With superhuman effort the German fired at the withdrawing Englishman, puncturing his petrol tank. Toby was miffed when he realized he would not make it back. The engine sputtered and had gone silent. Only the rushing wind whistled by. Mulberry made a forced landing in No-Man’s Land near the friendly trenches. He quickly unfastened his harness, jumping out of the cockpit he’d ran for cover. It only took five minutes for the German field artillery to zero in and destroy his aeroplane. Toby was lucky to be alive.
Well Gents, Ernst bought the farm. On a balloon busting mission he dove with his flight leader, like an idiot, with no power thinking his DII could dive just like the AI DII without damage. Gingerly pulling out of the dive he heard Rice Krispies and headed back to the lines. Over NML at dusk he saw a machine approaching from behind. Yep, Nieuport 17. And a persistent cuss at that. Three times he turned into him and then headed back home. The Nieuport still came. His DII was not flying the best and as he tried this tactic one more time his machine was hit and it rolled to the side. Ernst momentarily got control to land but a big tree he could not see in the dark got the best of him.
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!
#4497801 - 11/20/1910:50 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,594Fullofit
MFair, that is another kick in the berries. At least he managed to write his mom before meeting the tree. Now we know why we’ve never heard of this artist. Sorry to see Ernst go. Good luck with the next fellow.
"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."
#4497803 - 11/21/1912:15 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
The e/a looked like zee slice of Swiss Cheese. On a 3 a/c Rail-yard mission , we ran into a flight of enemy Scouts. We had Height so I led them in a bounce. It quickly deteriorated into a dogfight. Amis would say, it was a barroom brawl. Lewis 's Barked and the deeper sound of the Hun MG's roared over the motors. Turn ,zoom , Chandell Over and over. My chap had some hits from my 1st drum so I reloaded and closed to 200 feet. Fired off 47 rds Fabric came off. dropped back and put on my last drum while seeing my wingman sitting there watching me. Closed, Tacka, Tacka, tacka, Bang, Bang ,Bang, . Empty ! ,But the e/a was on fire and it quickly flip over like a Pancake and crashed . My flight had knocked down all 3 e/a about 1/2 way to Metz. Climbed and headed home.
Last edited by carrick58; 11/21/1905:32 AM.
#4497852 - 11/21/1904:32 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Argh! Sorry to hear of your chap's demise, MFair. I had always wondered about AI in dives - it always felt like they could do things that would simply break my plane if I tried to follow! Now I know.
Found a little flying time today, and so I've begun the mad dash to try and catch up with the rest of you gents.
Sous Lt. James B. Fullard, Esc. N.124 'Américaine', Cachy, France.
November 3rd, 1916.
Life at Cachy was harder than we had expected. Our Escadrille’s food shortage continued to persist through the weeks, with us relying on the kindness and hospitality of the neighbouring Escadrilles to keep us fed. This, however, we were able to repay through supplying the French pilots with as much coffee as they desired - something that, no matter our situation, we had never run short of.
It didn’t take long for the freezing, damp barracks to take its toll on us, and on the morning of October 24th I woke up from a shivery slumber, slowly becoming aware of a terrible ache in my throat and a pressure in my nose. Scarcely a minute after my waking, I groaned and fell backwards onto my cot, shivers and flashes of heat intermittently coursing over me as I was racked by painful, dry coughs. I had contracted the flu.
And so, for our first week at Cachy, I found myself laid out in a bunk, piled under my flying coat and whatever other covers we could get our hands on, while the boys went up to learn of the new threats that awaited us in the Somme. During this time I was in an awful funk. Left to my own thoughts, my mind played tricks - one day telling me that I was doing nothing to aid the war effort, other days telling me that I wanted desperately nothing more than to run home, back to America, with my tail between my legs. Finally, though, my flu subsided and I was able to fly once more.
I would then have to catch up on the familiarisation flights that I had missed, which I volunteered to do alone, to allow Escadrille operations to continue unhindered. Thenault was apprehensive at first, but reluctantly agreed. During these flights I didn’t see much, save for the flights of Nieuports going to and from the lines, except for one hairy encounter on November 1st when I saw a shadow dance across my tail. Looking up, I was horrified to see that I had flown directly underneath three Rolands! I made a quick escape before the Bosches had time to notice me.
Around this time, we were joined by Adj. Robert Soubiran. Like Luf, he had been born in France before moving to America later in his early life. Prior to joining our outfit, Soubiran had done much heavy fighting in the trenches, eventually being wounded and spending four months in the Hospital. He seemed an upbeat type, and fit quite well into Escadrille life.
Also around this time is when the first new machines were delivered to the Groupe de Combat de Cachy. “It’s the latest thing from the factory!” Bill Thaw had excitedly told me, as we looked over one such machine, now owned by Guynemer of N.3. “150 horsepower engines, and I’ve heard they can do over 200 kilometers an hour!”. I looked over the new craft - named the "Spad" - it had a long, bulky fuselage and close-set, squared off wings. It looked heavy. “200 kilometres an hour, eh?” I muttered, with a critical eye. “I’ll believe it when I see it”.
Over the next few days, more of the new Spads were delivered, being distributed first among the Escadrille’s commanders and Aces, with later arrivals being handed down to the other pilots. As for myself, I continued to fly old N.1814. The first of N.124’s Spads went to Thenault, naturally, and then a second was assigned to Lufbery. According to the latter, the new machine “would win us the air war”. I may have been unconvinced by the new machine’s appearance, and the exuberant claims of its abilities, but by this point I had learned to take Luf’s word as gospel when it came to aeroplanes.
On November 3rd I had my first combat in the Somme. We had been assigned to a routine fly-over of the nearby English aerodromes, which had been getting some heat from Roland squadrons in the past few days. It was a job none of us liked. As we flew to the West of Corbie, I suddenly spotted the telltale little white candy-floss puffs of Anti-Aircraft fire. Rocking my wings, I turned my flight towards it, spotting three small black dots in among the barrage not long after. As the distance closed, I spotted their sleek, fish-like fuselages. Dammit. Rolands.
However, as we grew nearer, my fingers tensing around the control column and the throttle, I realised that these were not Rolands...they were smaller, and monoplace. Warily, we overflew the three Bosches, who circled eagerly below us. They were keen for a fight.
Finally, I exhaled shakily and tipped my nose downward at the trailing Bosche. The four machines of my flight followed suit, and in the next instant we were dancing above the clouds with the fishlike Bosche machines. Circling with the German I had attacked, I quickly realised with a lurch of unease that this new Bosche type was excellent. I pulled as far back on the stick as I dared, but the German continued to match my turn - and I could now see the black glint of two machine-guns, poking menacingly outward from underneath the Bosche’s squared-off upper wings. To my horror, I realised the German was starting to gain on me in the turn - but then he suddenly dove away, having lost his nerve. I put my Nieuport into a screaming dive, chasing down after him, and before long I could see my tracer knocking off sections of strut and tailplane, tearing holes in the insolent black crosses on his wings. A moment later and the Bosche shot upright in his seat, looked backwards at me in a bizarrely dramatic manner, and flopped forwards over his control column, his machine twirling towards earth like an autumn leaf. In spite of myself, I found a callous humour in the Bosche’s theatrical last moments. Looking over my shoulder, I saw Luf’s Spad just above and behind me. He looked down at me, giving me a curt nod.
As we landed at the aerodrome, I de-planed and went to Luf’s side. “Hey, what were those Bosche planes?” I asked him, as he fumbled with the buttons on his combination. “Albatros” was his curt response.
That night brought confirmation for my "Albatros" - my fifteenth victory.
Welcome back Wulfe and congrats on the 15th for your man!
Lazlo is back, too! I've been too busy to write anything but he's flown a number of missions. I will catch up best as I can with all your reports from while I was away! Meantime....
Jasta 1, Proville, France November 15th 1916
"Ah, it's our gentle giant, returned to the fold once more". Leffers smiled warmly at Lazlo, welcoming him back to the officers' mess and guiding him to an empty wingback chair near the fireplace. An orderly had just placed several new logs in the hearth and the flames crackled, eagerly consuming the fresh fuel. "So tell me, how was your trip home?", Leffers sat down opposite the pilot and leaned toward him in anticipation.
"Well, my mother. she is shrinking! Shorter than when I saw her last. My brother, is much irritating like usual, and the weather, nice. Warmer than it is here", grinned Lazlo.
"Ah yes, the mediterranean climate is to be appreciated, that's for sure, especially in the winter months. But here is where the important work for the Fatherland lies, my dear chap. We are pleased to have you back!"
"Pleased to being back. What has been happening here, then?"
"Well, the enemy is still gaining territory on the ground, although they have been mostly quiet in the skies. However, they have some very good pilots operating in this sector. Hawker, and Mullberry are two good ones. Collins and Stanley another two. Then there's Guynemer and the Amercaine, James Fullard. It seems the whole world is against us! We must stay vigilant and do what we can to support our brave men on the front lines. I feel that it is only a matter of time before our generals organize a counter attack to drive the French back". Lazlo noticed the concern on the Commanding Officer's face.
"Well, we have great pilots also! Von Richthofen, Von Keudell, Julius Schrek, Bohme, and that's just a few namings!". Lazlo was trying to lift the mood.
"Ah, yes indeed", smiled Leffers. "Well, now that you are back, we have you too, and I have news. I want you to assume permanent leadership of schwarm zwei, starting tomorrow. Your first mission will be to escort an Aviatik on a reconnaissance mission to survey the enemy lines either side of Arras".
"Escort business, always tricky to see the Aviatik, extra so when there is clouds weather". Lazlo stroked his chin, concern now showing on his face. He'd never had to lead an escort mission before, just blindly following whoever was leading. He knew this would be different.
"It's easy, Lazlo. Think of it like this: you are the shepherd and he is the sheep. You simply stay far enough behind that you can see his movements, but not too far that some nasty wolf can come in and bite his head off!" Leffers shouted the last few words, startling Lazlo a little.
"No! No head biting! I will make sure of it!". Both men stood and saluted each other before going about their evening. Lazlo decided to get an early night.
To be continued......
#4497855 - 11/21/1906:02 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Wulf, good to see you back. The bad thing about my pilot is I KNEW what was likely to happen. And it did.
Harry, also good to see Lazlo back.
I will back in the air next week. News at 11
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!
#4497856 - 11/21/1906:28 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Mar 2011 Posts: 195VonS
WWI Flight Sims on a Mac
WWI Flight Sims on a Mac
Joined: Mar 2011
Great stories gents' - keep them coming. I always like to pop in here from time to time and catch up on the latest adventures. I may look into the Fokk. D.II and D.III for a future ver. of my FM update package - it's perhaps time to increase the max. dive speed and max g-load tolerances on those biplane wing warpers, by about 10-15%, to make them more competitive with the AI-flown D.II and III warpers. With those two-bay wings they should be a bit sturdier in dives than the single-bay prototype and also the strange single-bay Austrian version of the D.II, sometimes known as a B.II.
Happy flying, Von S
Last edited by VonS; 11/21/1906:31 PM. Reason: Added pic. of single-bay B.II.
The knife skittered across the toast as the Secretary for War prepared to create another batch of soldiers. The egg before him was perfectly soft-boiled with a warm and inviting yolk. His lips smacked beneath the famous bushy moustache. Now streaked with grey hairs, but not so striking as the great sweeps of white above his ears.
“Marvellous eggs, Frances,” Lloyd-George commented approvingly to his personal secretary, who sat opposite him at the breakfast table. “The hens have done us proud with this morning's work.”
Frances Stevenson poured him another cup from a teapot that stood between them.
“Now,” Lloyd-George opened, after despatching the first yolk-headed soldier. “I had another meeting with Aitken and Carson yesterday. They told me that Bonar Law is considering resigning. They went to him to ask if, having done so, he would be willing to form a ministry. Flat out refused, he did. Ah thank you.” He slurped on a fresh cup.
“He said that he wouldn't think of being responsible for a ministry to run the war now. Nothing but disaster ahead! Said he'd be blamed for losing the war and getting poor terms for peace.”
“They will back you for Prime Minister, David.” Frances told him. “If you secure Bonar Law's support.”
“I wouldn't join them,” Lloyd-George scoffed. “Unionists* and Tories might let me be Prime Minister, but they will never trust me. Nor I them. Too much differs in our philosophy and always will.”
The Welsh Wizard leaned forward with a twinkle in his eye. “I need them in my pocket and not holding my leash. Now, Frances. I have a little mission for you.”
“Bonar Law's parliamentary private secretary is Stanley Baldwin. His daughter Diana is supposedly engaged to one of Lord Derby's boys. Derby being my undersecretary at the War Office, I know that he and Baldwin are going through a rocky patch at the moment.
“It turns out that is because young William has cut it off with Diana and won't take her letters.” The old man tutted. “If we can smooth young love a little, I shall have Baldwin in my grasp and he has Boney's ear! What I want you to do, my dear, is make social call on Diana Baldwin. Do what you can to find out why they're having a lover's tiff and fix it if you can. Let me know what you need to do so. Be quick! The game is afoot and I want all the pieces on my side of the board.”
France, November 15th 1916
“They what?” “'Downed by anti-aircraft fire.'” Dobson, the recording officer for 60 squadron, repeated apologetically. “The machine gunners at twelve squadron claimed that Fokker as their own. I'm sorry Wags.” “Confound it!” Stanley snorted. “Here I am stuck chucking rockets at Hun trains and my victories are getting stolen by oiks flying Ack-Ack trucks!”
*In this case, the term refers to the Liberal Unionist party, who actually merged with the Conservative (also known as the Tory) party in 1912.
I have based this conversation on ones that Frances Stevenson recorded in her diary for mid-November 1916.
#4497893 - 11/22/1903:51 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Another clean up, our 3 a/c were assigned to Escort a G-4. Over the meeting place North of Nancy. and amid heavy cloud cover, we could not located the craft. Letting down in zee soup , we spotted 2 Halb Scouts, below us and off to the starboard side. I put us in place but couldnt keep up in the dive so both my mates scored for no loss. After that RTB.
#4498025 - 11/23/1912:57 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,594Fullofit
It took Toby entire next day to get back to Vert Galand after his landing in No-Man’s Land and watching his airplane destroyed by the German artillery. It didn’t take long to confirm the Roland he set on fire and which in turn cost him his Pup. As it happens this claim was very pricey. There were no more spare Pups available and Toby had to fly a Nieuport. “- This is not a Pup. It is more like ... Poop. Can I have a Strutter instead?” Mulberry was desperate. The French machine was unfamiliar to him. “- I’m sorry. We’ve traded all our Strutters for these Nieuports. That is all we have.” The C.O. was no help. “- Let this be a lesson to anyone not taking care of his aeroplane. Bring it home, or you’ll be like Mulberry here, flying a Nieupe.” He addressed all the pilots gathered at the morning briefing. The briefing went on and they learned their flight would be escorted by the ‘A’ flight in order to take out the observation balloon NE of Bapaume. There was no sign of the first snow on the ground anymore. Clear skies were welcomed by all pilots. The trip to Bapaume was short and uninterrupted by German surprises. Booker and Galbraith remained high while Mulberry and Huskisson lunged at the sausage. They both fired at the same time and the gasbag burst immediately. Toby didn’t keep them in the area long. He gave the signal to regroup soon after the attack was over. They were all safe and undamaged.
I have to be Slow, smooth and easy with N-16. Too steep ( the wings peel off ) Too tight of turns instead of carving a turn it stops flying and falls. zoom and get to slow it stalls and spins ( chance of recovery Small thru Zero.