More rain off and on today Visibility is down less then 1mile in a dark murky sky with low ceiling to match, Posted as duty officer, I just settled in when the guard at the gate call ed, said there was a Visitor. I hustled on down, and was greeted by The Comte's Mistress Etain de Winter she said that she had goodies for the Commander. I allowed her to pass with her many gifts and she gave me a bottle of Champagne Vintage 1902. Very rare . I later learned that she has a friend that smuggles a few across the lines since the most of the Vintage is in the hands of the Huns.
Last edited by carrick58; 12/19/1902:48 AM.
#4500881 - 12/19/1902:57 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Late morning Solo flight: I came across a Bosche Recon a/c in the clouds. Making a diving pass, my Lewis barked and tracers flew. Pulling up in a climbing turn, I banged off the rest of Zee drum then banked right to reload out side his gunners line of fire, As I reloaded I saw the e/a climbing up into the cloud bank and disappeared. I never located him so RTB.,
Last edited by carrick58; 12/19/1909:57 PM.
#4501001 - 12/20/1903:19 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
It has been quiet in the air recently, but thanks to Carrick we have lots of eye candy to check out in the campaign thread!
Harry, good luck with the new machines.
I'm going to be away for a few days around Christmas so I played ahead until Christmas Day. That way be able to catch up when I get back to my WOFF machine.
An Airman’s Odyssey – by Capt James Arthur Collins, VC, DSO, MC
Part Ninety: In which I meet a choir boy
Hansel’s celebration in Amiens was a wonderful evening. We spent about three hours over dinner at the Salon Godbert, where we had a wonderful time destroying several large platters of oysters and washing them down with very good champagne. That was topped off by a leg of lamb and some sort of garlic-infused rabbit. All were feeling jolly and I announced that we would take a stroll before pudding. I found my way back to the Café Jericho, the spot owned by my late chum’s fiancée, Camille. Child attempted to persuade me that the best finish to our meal would be to bring young Hansel to a palace of horizontal entertainment. I shuddered, remembering how he done the same thing with a drunken Sheeley not long before poor Sheeley was shot down. I absolutely forbade it.
The genuine and enthusiastic welcome from Camille and her exquisite pastries soon put all such thoughts out of mind – or at least out of decent Christian minds. I can’t speak for Child. We topped off our treats with too many glasses of Calvados, for which Camille refused payment. Hansel was clearly smitten with Camille and attempted to chat her up in his best public schoolboy French. Camille flirted with him shamelessly. It was clear that none of this would amount to anything because, despite persistent questioning, none of us could provide Hansel with the French word for “ripping.” We each left something under our saucers in thanks for Camille. As we left, I explained to Hansel that he should not to be too forward with Camille as she had only recently left the convent.
We remained grounded until 16 December and even then I scarcely got into the air. Two or three minutes after take-off, something large and noisy gave way in the Hisso and I had to put down at Bertangles. On 17 December, we responded to a report that came in while we were having breakfast. Hun machines had been spotted near Amiens. I really didn’t think that we would be there in time to encounter anything but once we were above the clouds we could see bursts of Archie in the distance. We raced to catch up, climbing all the way. Up at eleven thousand feet were two observation machines and a pair of Albatri. One of the Hun scouts stayed with the two-seaters and the other dived at us – very plucky considering that Hansel, Orlebar, and Child were with me. I was the first on the Hun and managed to get a burst into him. He spun away and headed east, but Child and I dived on him. I fired 150 rounds into him from close range and saw his propeller begin to windmill. Child fired a short burst as I turned for another run at the HA. Just before the German machine seemed about to put down the field, it banked crashed into a tree line, bursting into flame. We reported the combat, and credit was given to Child on the assumption that his last short burst must have caused the pilot to lose consciousness. I did not argue.
Bad weather prevented flying until the 20th. We entertained ourselves by decorating the mess for Christmas with pine boughs and bits of ribbon and tinsel. Hansel provided the entertainment by singing carols in a fine high tenor. He informed us that he had been a chorister in the Chapel Royal, a thing that required attending school within St James Palace. His voice broke early, however, and he left after only eighteen months. Many of the fellows were bowled over by this news and plied Hansel with questions about his experiences. As the colonial representative, I was baffled by the entire conversation. Back in Saskatchewan when I was a young boy, the closest thing we got to choral singing was the parade of joyless dirges emerging from the wood-frame Presbyterian chapel two concession lines away. I asked Hansel what we were talking about and he explained that the Chapel Royal is something called a Royal Peculiar. “Hansel, I think you are a Royal Peculiar,” I told him. That seemed to end the discussion.
On 20 December 1916, the klaxon sounded shortly after first light and we were informed that enemy aircraft were headed in our general direction. I took off with Hansel and Child and we soon spotted a pair of Rolands heading straight for Candas. We were only able to catch one of the machines and we took it in turns to chase it as far east as Albert. When we landed, Hansel had to be helped from his machine as he had taken a round to his leg. Fortunately, it was a mere graze but it kept him on the ground for a couple of days. I was thankful that I had not let him go gallivanting around Amiens with Child. Memories of Sheeley.
On 21 December, Orlebar forced a Roland down but it landed behind its own lines. We had another scrap with Rolands the following day. This time I managed to put several long bursts into the Hun, but it was Child who finished him off so there was no credit.
On 23 December, I flew for nearly two and a half hours over the lines between Albert all the way north to Arras and back several times without seeing another machine in the sky.
On 24 December, we took off shortly after eight in the morning for a line patrol between Arras and Bapaume. As we arrived at the north end of our patrol area, we spotted three enemy machines flying north-east off to our right. We dived at them – Hansel, Orlebar, Child, and me. I expected the Huns to put their noses down and run away but to their credit they turned to meet us. Two of the Huns touched when we were still some distance away. It was horrifying – one machine burst into flame while the other broke up in the air. The poor pilot could be seen waving his arms and legs as he hurtled downwards towards the mud below. The third was made of stern stuff and pressed his attack on the four of us. It did not end well for him. I managed a crippling burst which caused the German machine – a Halberstadt – to emit a stream of grey smoke. He tried to spin away but Hansel was quickly on his tail and finished him off. Our choir boy had his second kill. I hoped it would not change him.
That night all the officers served dinner to the other ranks, a fine British Army tradition. The other ranks entertained us after dinner with skits done on a makeshift stage in a spare hangar. The skits, naturally enough, were mainly satirical takes on the officers and senior NCOs. There was one in which a drawling cowboy pilot complete with Stetson and flying goggles strutted about inside a cardboard-box Spad gunning down Huns with a pair of six shooters, all the while swearing like a trooper and drinking from a bottle of Yukon Gold whisky. I was the recipient of many sideways glances, but the thing was genuinely funny. The best part was that the cowboy had to get his Yukon Gold from the riggers, who (in the skit) used it to thin dope for the aircraft.
As we left the sheds, a light snow began to fall, each flake catching the light of a low moon that shone through a gap in the clouds. It was quiet and even the guns diminished their constant rumble. Hansel began to sing “Silent Night.” Should I live to be a hundred, this will be my strongest image of Christmas.
#4501009 - 12/20/1905:23 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Harry, congrats on a new mount. Looks like Lazlo will finally be able to show his comrades his full potential. That roomy cockpit will be a godsend for Big Red.
Carrick, unlike Harry I have no issues deciding what I like more. The ladies, of course. Keep ‘em coming! BTW, is Rene okay after his encounter with the pet?
Raine, Hansel dodged a bullet but only literally. Good thing it is only but a scratch. Now, to the culinary description. You know that when someone describes their meal as “some sort of garlic-infused rabbit”, they’re most likely eating a cat. God help you all. Good choice with calvados to wash down all the sweets. It also looks like Collins’ outfit attracts all the local Rolands. Hopefully James can deal with this sudden show of affection. Enjoy the time off and if we don’t see you before the holidays, here’s wishing you the best of the holiday cheer. Merry Christmas!
The rain’s incessant pattering has finally come to an end. The long period of foul weather brought with it foul moods, but now that the flights resumed everything went back to normal. All traces of snow were washed away by the rain, leaving large puddles on the still frozen ground. Long drainage trenches had to be dug to relieve the ponding on the airfield. Huskisson joked that even the air service can’t get away from trench warfare in this war. It seems rain didn’t bother the enemy observation balloons as much as the aeroplanes and one went up near Delville Wood in the last few days. The ‘B’ flight would take care of it while being escorted by the ‘A’ flight. It was a complete surprise to the Huns when the two flights arrived overhead and commenced their attack. Toby’s salvo ignited the gasbag which immediately erupted in flames. Each flight reformed and returned to base after seeing the target go down. After Mulberry made his report and submitted the balloon claim, the squadron commander, Geoffrey Bromet let it slip that tomorrow Toby would receive his early Christmas present.
"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."
#4501147 - 12/21/1905:57 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Fullofit, what's the pressie?? Put us out of our misery, or do we have to wait for Santa to arrive?
Sadly, Lazlo did NOT get an Albatros for Christmas. Huh?? Dumb brass hats.
Oberleutnant Lazlo Halász, Jasta1, Proville, Flanders December 20-21 1916
Finally a break from the cloudy, sleet filled days occured on the morning of the 20th, and flying became possible again. Clear blue skies greeted Lazlo that morning, as he strode away from the office, in stark contrast to the jumble of confused thoughts in his head. He needed to escape into the vast solitude above, to be alone, to try to grapple with everything he had just learned. He reached his DII and climbed aboard. He tried not to, but couldn't help stealing an envious glance at the Alabatros machine in the next hangar to his. They had received ten of these machines but none of them were to be his, at least for now. He had learned this from their present commanding officer, Oberleutnant Hans Kummetz only ten minutes ago. He had also been informed that he had been promoted to the same rank as his CO, effective immediately. None of this made any sense to Lazlo. If he was so highly thought of that he be promoted, then why could he not fly one of the best machines the Jasta possessed? Kummetz had explained that there were 14 pilots and only 10 machines. In his view, Lazlo was one of the more competent fliers of the DII and so it made sense for him to be one of the 4 to stay in that machine until more of the Albatros machines could be secured.
Taking off and soaring into the skies westward toward the front lines, Lazlo tried to make sense of things. Gradually, as he climbed to 3500Km, he saw that this was the way things had to be. He marveled to himself how far he had advanced ith the German air ranks since his arrival in the summer and wondered if he should put in for a transfer, perhaps to lead a Jasta of his own somewhere. Unfortunately he had no connections on the inside who would be able to pull strings for him. He realized it was probably a hopeless idea, but nevertheless it helped to brighten his mood. Soon he was enjoying being aloft once more and began to concentrate on the task at hand. He flew over Bethune and then turned north toward Monchy, scanning the skies for signs of enemy aircraft. After an hour or so, with nothing to show for it, he returned to Proville.
That evening in the mess, Von Keudell commiserated with him over a glass of brandy. "Never mind, big fellow, you're bound to get an Alb for yourself soon enough, and while you're waiting, let us do the hunting and fighting. Keep yourself away from trouble and enjoy the respite!" Lazlo mumbled his thanks and tried to numb his sorrows with refill. It was going to be a difficult period, but Von Keudell was right, with an army of Albatri around him, he should be able to steer clear of trouble.
The next day schwarm zwei were dispatched south to St Quentin. Even Lazlo felt a welling of pride as he glanced left and right at the powerful, menacing formation. He doubted anyone would risk tangling with them on this day. He was proven correct. Not a single sign of the enemy all day.
#4501183 - 12/22/1912:43 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
Joined: Nov 2014 Posts: 2,588Fullofit
Harry, it is a disappointing reoccurrence happening time and time again when a high-ranking pilot has to tough it out in an old piece of junk while any lowly Feldwebel gets a nice shiny mount. Does anyone know if there is a file that can be worked on and edited to make the plane allocations done by rank? I'm not even asking to allocate the best machines to highest scoring pilots, but at least by rank. Congrats on the promotion. It looks like Lazlo will be stuck with that Halb until Jasta gets rid of them. Good luck with the transfer if that is even an option.
Toby’s early Christmas present stood on the airfield. Finally the replacement Pups have arrived and he was glad to be rid of the Nieuport. Mulberry’s plane was unusual and stood out from the rest like a sore thumb. His Pup’s cowling was made out of copper, casting warm orange reflections at anything nearby. It was no wonder the pilots immediately christened it The Tea Kettle. It didn’t matter. Toby and Holtcombe would fly proper buses now. The orders were to Escort 2 Caudrons from Esc 18 on a recon flight of the front sector between Arras and Albert. Toby didn’t mind trundling along, babysitting the Caudrons. The skies were free of enemy scouts and he was happy again.
"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."
#4501189 - 12/22/1901:18 AMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)
I sure have missed you Gentleman! It seems everyone is still here and no one has gone west. Great stories all.
Dec. 22, 1916 Sgt. Frank F. Lucas 54 RFC English Channel headed to France
54 Squadron had been formed in May as a home defense squadron but things change during war. It was equipped with Pups in October in anticipation of its need at the front. Frank Lucas had been posted to 54 along with Sgt. Sears in Mid December. The weather had been horrible and the squadron had not up much when the orders came to ship to St. Omar. As the weather was still too bad for flying, the squadron would go by transport across the channel. Frank was hoping he might receive a new machine as his Pup at Castle Bromwich was prone to engine failure. Out of the 4 patrols he flew after being posted, two had ended in engine failure.
Acting Major Kelham Kirk Horn was CO of the squadron. Frank liked the man very much and had a lot of respect for the 30 year old Australian. He was a had but fair taskmaster. Frank liked the fact that he did not look on the two sergeants, himself and Sears, as being anything less than Pilots in his squadron. One of the points he stressed was that once combat patrols started, only claims that were an absolute certainty would be submitted. Frank figured this might be his way of stressing that the squadron fight as a unit.
Sears and Frank stood on the cold wind swept deck of the transport as opposed to the dank smelly bowels of the ship. “Might as well get used to this. What you say friend?” Frank asked Sears. Sears pulled his coat closing the neck a little more. If that was possible. “I suppose you are right” he replied as he watched the low grey clouds skid across the sky.
Frank liked the 27 year old Englander. In his short time with the squadron they had become good friends. The friendship might have come from necessity. As the CO treated them as equal pilots in the air, on the ground they were still sergeants.
Frank gripped the rail a little tighter and his mind flashed back. How the hell did a 20 year man from Alabama end up on he ship in the English Channel? He could not wait to get down to the business of combat flying.
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!
#4501229 - 12/22/1909:07 PMRe: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)