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#4508403 - 02/25/20 02:31 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) ***** [Re: Raine]  
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The air Raids are adventures in WOFF. I have lost a few pilots in them just after take off. Hang in there

#4508420 - 02/25/20 05:06 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Phew, lucky escape for Toombs! Well done. I may just try that mission for fun smile. Lazlo's been grounded because of snow, but hoping he'll be up again today perhaps?


System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4508427 - 02/25/20 05:35 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Enjoying all the reports. Here is my first for yesterday. Not sure if I'll stick to this format but it is a start.

[Linked Image]

Last edited by grishin; 02/25/20 08:34 PM.
#4508445 - 02/25/20 07:22 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Hey grishin! Welcome to the crew. Its a great place to be. May Falkenrath have a long and illustrious career.

Happy Hunting

#4508447 - 02/25/20 07:26 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: SebToombs]  
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Thank you Toombs. Your pilot reports are always a pleasure to read. I'll be happy if Falkenrath lasts a month and even happier if he makes it to a one-seater.

#4508460 - 02/25/20 08:14 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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[Linked Image]


[Linked Image]
*Shortly after takeoff.
[Linked Image]
*Back to the base. First flight complete.

#4508461 - 02/25/20 08:24 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Sgt Philby
1 RFC Sqn

Ya Yes Old Chaps I remember my 1st Flight


https://giphy.com/gifs/seinfeld-preseason-aMh59aKR8vjdC/fullscreen

#4508463 - 02/25/20 08:32 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Last edited by carrick58; 02/25/20 08:35 PM.
#4508470 - 02/25/20 09:08 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Grisham, welcome to DID! We always need fresh meat for the grinder. Good luck!

Seb, those air raids are always 10 on the pucker scale! Glad you made it.

Gunther Ganz
Jasta 6
Feb. 25th. 1917

As Ganz readied for take off, little did he know today would change his life. His flight of 6 were to patrol from Cambrai to Saint Quentin. Once reaching patrol altitude they headed NNW for the patrol, while passing over Mont St. Martin they were attacked by Strutters from the northeast. It was at least 7 of them. In a second the planes were twisting, turning and firing. Ganz got on one and had to disengage as another got on his tail. Looking down he saw a Pup attacking one of his flight trying to land. “Where did he come from!” Ganz thought and immediately dove to rescue the pilot. As he dove in firing the Pup climbed steeply but Ganz stayed with him firing. He could see the Pup shutter and start to smoke. The Pup leveled off as his propeller stopped. Ganz looked around and seeing no other machines pulled along side the Pup and pointed down to the airfield. The pilot was no fool. He knew when it was over. The Pup pilot saluted and slowly turned toward the airfield. Ganz stayed beside him hoping the ground gunners could see what was happening. They did and stopped firing. The Pup and Ganz landed together and came to a rolling stop. Ground personnel and pilots swarmed the Pup. A few had rifles pointed pointed at the helpless pilot. He raised his hands and then slowly unstrapped himself and climbed out of the machine. The Commandant of the field walked to the Pup pilot and saluted. They were shaking hands as Ganz made his way through the crowd. As he approached the commandant asked “what’s your name”. Ganz saluted, “Offizerstellvertreter Gunther Ganz, Sir!” The Commandant smiled, “Well done! Well done! I would think there will be a medal in your future for this feat!” The Pup pilot was Flight Commander Frank Hudson of 54 Squadron.

Historical note: Flight Commander Frank Hudson was shot down in July of 1917 and spent the rest of the war in captivity.
Story note: actually, the fight went as described in the sim. All except Ganz telling him to land. In sim he went down intact next to the airfield but hey, I love the Blue Max!


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!
#4508476 - 02/25/20 09:42 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: MFair]  
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MFair, That is story telling at its best! brilliant and well played sir! They say we Hun are no gentlemen - but chivalry is not dead our side of the lines (sometimes!!)

grishin, Nice pictures! Your greens are very vibrant! Glad its going well so far!

Last edited by SebToombs; 02/25/20 10:28 PM.
#4508480 - 02/25/20 10:10 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Seb, thank you Sir! Actually the story fell in my lap. Once it was confirmed and I knew who it was I was flabbergasted that he was shot down and taken captive in real life. I’m starting to get the feel of Ganz. Thanks again Hoss.


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!
#4508501 - 02/26/20 01:50 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Seb, challenge accepted. My Albatros is a little rusty.

YouTube Link



Sorry to see von Toombs taken out of action, but take solace. You’ve been against the best and survived. Rough around the edges, that’s true, but alive nonetheless. Rest, gather strength and prepare for more encounters like this one.

Harry, we need Big Red. Nurse Higginstein shouldn’t keep him all to herself.

Grishin, welcome to the fold. Lady Luck is with you. Alsace is a quiet sector, good to get your sea legs (wings?) Take good care of your Roland, watch the stall speed and above all listen to Ernst. Here’s hoping for a quick transfer to scouts. Good luck!

MFair, Ganz is quickly becoming a legend in his own right. Well done! Most important is gaining the experience how to fight gains those devils. Gunther seems to have figured them out. Looking forward to his next conquest.


25 February, 1917 09:00
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar
61 confirmed kills

The two-seater from two days ago was finally confirmed. A small consolation for Scudmore’s death.
They’ve been sent to patrol friendly front lines from Diksmuide to north of Ypres. At their first checkpoint they were accosted by 3 Halberstadts. Toby took one out on fire. He saw someone collide and by the end of the engagement he was flying with only one wingman.

YouTube link



FSL Robert ‘Bob’ Little followed Toby dutifully, both pilots aware that if they run into anymore Huns there will be trouble. The trouble appeared on the horizon in the form of two dots. One of them turned back to attack the two Tripes, while the other dot continued on. Mulberry was pleased. They have made their first mistake. The dot transformed into another Halberstadt, which proceeded to park himself behind Toby but far enough as not to be an immediate threat. That was the second mistake. Toby was the bait and the Hun swallowed it hook, line and sinker. ‘Bob’ was right behind and peppered him mercilessly. Meanwhile, Mulberry was gaining on the other Halberstadt. He snuck behind and opened fire. The surprise was complete and after some resistance the Hun fell to the ground under no power.

YouTube Link



Toby looked around for ‘Bob’ but he could only see a biplane higher up going rather slowly. He snuck up on that Boche as well and surprised him with a volley. More tumbling down and spinning, but eventually this Halberstadt had to fall as well. This one had more luck and managed to land his sick mount and escape death. Toby made his way back across the lines and made three claims upon landing at Furnes. Hopefully ’Bob’ saw it all.

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."
#4508502 - 02/26/20 01:51 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Now that I'm back in Canada, I have a great deal of reading and video watching to do to catch up with everyone's story. For now, I'll share the first instalment of what I pieced together during my short holiday.

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

Part One Hundred: In which I meet a familiar face and plan an unfamiliar future


What a week! It took Davison and I a day and a half to reach Paris, a stop and go trip mollified only by our good fortune in securing seats in a second-class compartment. The French carriage had plush benches and a central corridor, far less confining than the typical English equivalent. We arrived in the City of Light in a rainstorm around ten in the morning and, ignoring the bellowing French NCOs who marshalled other ranks into receiving areas, we pushed their way out of the station and flagged a taxi to the Hotel Mirabeau. There we found our rooms, napped briefly, and shaved. Unfortunately, the hotel was permitted to give us hot water only every other day and today was not it. A luxurious bath would have to wait.

It was one o’clock when we emerged onto the rain-soaked Rue de la Paix. Despite our hunger and the filthy weather, we dawdled past the magnificent shop windows, gazing at the fine jewellery and elegant dresses on display and – more longingly – at the young seamstresses fitting out the store mannequins. I wanted to head for the Place Vendôme to see Napoleon’s personal version of Trajan’s column, but Davison insisted on leading me in the opposite direction towards the Opera square. The Café de la Paix, he announced, was the place to be seen.

“By whom?” I asked him, for I knew no one in this place. Or so I thought.

[Linked Image]
Cafe de la Paix, Place de l'Opera

“Jimmy!” We had scarcely got her table when a girl’s voice cut through the chatter of senior officers, louche petty nobles, diplomats, and perfumed demi-mondaines. I searched the crowded room. The place went on forever. Then I heard it again: “Jimmy!”

“Alex?” I gasped. It was Alexandra Anderson, the American journalist who had stolen my heart and nearly brought “Swany” Swanson and me to blows! She was dressed beautifully in an emerald green skirt, high-collared blouse, and grey tweed jacket embroidered in silver. She extended a gloved hand which I kissed awkwardly. I turned to introduce her to Davison and in my shocked state nearly forgot her name. Davison quickly introduced himself and ended my stammering.

Alex had been dining with a dashing looking older gentleman, replete with monocle. “This is Robert Service, the poet and writer. He’s a Canadian Brit like you. Robert,” she said, “This is Jimmy Collins of Collins Yukon Gold infamy. You two really need to get to know one another. Come join us at our table.”

The penny dropped. I remembered my dad in his later years reading a long poem about a Yukon prospector who had cremated his friend. The opening lines stuck with me: “There are strange things done in the midnight sun by the men who moil for gold….” It turned out that Service knew of my father even though he had not met him. He was an engaging fellow and we had emptied two bottles of champagne before I could turn my attention to Alex. [1] By this time poor Davison was already in her thrall. She was a stunning as ever, and I enquired about how she came to be in Paris. She explained that since the Huns had resumed unrestricted submarine attacks on shipping and the US had broken off diplomatic relations, the Chicago Tribune wanted someone on the ground in Paris to write about America’s lack of readiness for war.

[Linked Image]
Robert Service

“They got me in by telling the French that I was writing about Edith Wharton’s charity work and other women stories. But I’ve been building bridges with French commanders and military experts. Now that I’ve done all the really hard work, those bastards in Chicago are sending F[b][/b]loyd Gibbons here next week to put his byline on the whole #%&*$# thing.” I could tell the Davison had never met a woman quite like Alex.

It was some lunch. Service invited Davison and me to his place for dinner in a couple of nights’ time. He had learned about Davison’s background as a wine buyer and wanted to introduce him to some friends. Alex invited herself along for good measure. And then, as quickly as it had started, Service was looking at his watch and excusing himself. Alex went with him.

“Well, Collins,” said Davison, “I have to hand it to you, old boy. I thought that I should be showing you around the city but it seems that you already know everyone here.” We had a good chuckle and headed out to see the sights of the city.


The dinner at Robert Service’s apartment on the Rue Montparnasse began innocently enough. Our host and his French wife Germaine,[2] had gathered an interesting and intimate group at the table (their two infant daughters were in another room with their nurse and Germaine rose frequently to visit them). [2] I sat across from Alex, herself seated beside Davison. The fellow on my right was a dapper little man about sixty years old named Gaston Lebefvre. He was a vigneron, a specialist in wine growing. Davison was as enraptured as Aristotle at the feet of Plato. He plied Lefebvre with questions throughout the dinner and I confess that the discussion drew me in to the point that Alex gave up on her two pilots and struck up a conversation with a playwright who was sitting on her other side. Then I heard Lefebvre say something intriguing.

“The producers of some of our better wines are having a difficult time. Of course, they cannot export any longer to Germany or Austria. And now it seems they will lose the Russian market as well. And the government is not interested in supplying the army with the finest wine. Pinard et singe is good enough for the poilus.” Davison looked puzzled and I stepped in to translate.

Pinard et singe means cheap plonk and monkey meat,” I told him. And turning to Lefevre I asked whether he knew of any good properties for sale.

“Indeed,” he said. “Some of them are quite desperate. The family Arnaud is looking to sell their property in the eastern part of the Bordeaux region, Pomerol. Only twelve hectares but a very fine product.” He paused and stared the ceiling, trying to recall the name. “Château… Château Pierre… non… Château Perron…non…”

“Not Château Pétrus?” said Davison.[3]

“Oui, c’est ça!” Lefevre exclaimed.

[Linked Image]

Davison stared at me across the table. “Collins, this is some opportunity. Pétrus is a top drawer producer. I might pay as much as £12 a bottle for a good year. Think what it could be worth after the war.”

I was hesitant to contemplate “after the war.” It was tempting fate. But my interest was up, Alex was ignoring me, and I saw for an instant a possibility of a future. For some time now I had felt too British for Canada and too Canadian for Britain. Could I perhaps carve out a career as a gentleman vintner in France? I engaged Lefevre more deeply in the matter. The Arnaud family were indeed eager to sell and Mr Carson had an offer to back in Ontario buy the distillery and was negotiating for a better price. Further, M. Lefevre thought several of the Arnauds’ key people could stay on. Davison was keen on being involved but lacked capital. He knew the business side well, though, and thought he could manage direct sales very profitably. I was confident he could. Now all that remained was to see the place. Apparently there were other properties in the region for sale. I offered Lefevre a commission if he helped us with the introductions and negotiations and the deal went through. By the time the port arrived, Davison, Lefevre, and I were planning an excursion to Pomerol. I would wire Carson tonight.

To be continued…

Notes:

[1] Robert Service (1874-1958) was a British born writer and poet who found fame with his Yukon-themed poems “The Cremation of Sam McGee” and “The Shooting of Dan McGrew.” His first novel, The Trail of ‘98, added to his fame. He worked as a war corresponded in the Balkans and moved to Paris in 1912 where he met and married his wife, Germaine Bourgoin. When war broke out 1914 his attempt to enlist failed and he worked briefly as a war correspondent and then as an ambulance driver. Following recovery from health problems in 1916, he settled down to enjoy his wealth. He continued to write prolifically and passed away in Monaco in 1958. Germaine lived until 1989.

[2] Robert and Germaine Service had twin daughters in 1917, Doris and Iris. Doris died of scarlet fever the following year. She lived in Monaco until her death in 2006.

[3] Collins’s role is fiction, but Château Pétrus is real. Possibly the premier wine of the Pomerol region, it sells for more than $2500 a bottle today. The Arnaud family did sell the property in 1917, but not to Collins. Instead it was sold to a newly-formed public corporation. Over the next 28 years, it shares were gradually acquired by the widow Mme Edouard Loubat.

Attached Files Café dela Paix.jpgRobert Service.gifPetrus_1931_chateau_card.JPG
#4508509 - 02/26/20 03:08 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Welcome to the fray, Grishin! Great to see a steady stream of new pilots joining us!

Herr Ganz, great story and hearty congrats!

Toby just keeps knocking 'em down. There's no stopping him.

Welcome back Capt. Collins, and please save me a bottle or two of the Petrus! Great chapter.

Seb, get mended soon!

....Lazlo bagged himself a Tripe! Too busy to write up the account but will try to find time soon smile


System: i5 8600K @ 3.6GHz,16GB DDR4 @2666MHz. RTX2080, MSI Z370 mobo, Dell 27" G-SYNC @ 144Hz. 2560x1440

#4508533 - 02/26/20 11:54 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine, Great to have you back, super chapter! I’ve not read of Swany and Collins dust up over Alexandra Anderson, but I’m intrigued I’ll read through from the start! Like Harry, I’m up for a bottle of Château Pétrus.

Harry, congrats on the Tripe they are my downfall and thanks for the get well wishes!

Fullofit, I loved the video of the scramble challenge, that was a nail biting moment at 4:54 with one Tripe in front of you and one Tripe behind you. But you expertly handled them and they fell to you guns! It was nice seeing you on the other side, if only for a while! I loved too how you weren’t drawn over the British lines very often, their ground fire can be devastating. Also, congrats on the three claims for Toby!

Young Toombs (standing centre with the bandage around his head) continues to recover in hospital chomping at the bit to be back in the air ....[Linked Image]
The comedy moustache competition has been a hit! The nurses can barely containing their laughter!

Happy hunting chaps!

Last edited by SebToombs; 02/26/20 02:55 PM.
#4508567 - 02/26/20 08:51 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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[Linked Image]


[Linked Image]
*Few minutes after takeoff. Heavy sleet.

[Linked Image]
*Home within reach. Weather has calmed.

[Linked Image]
*Peaceful view.

#4508590 - 02/26/20 11:10 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Seb, it was nice to see Von Toombs out of the Krankenhaus at last. I particularly enjoyed your photographs from that cold flight on 14 February. Then I saw the beautiful shots from 16 February and read of your further claims and close calls. Von Toombs’ story is truly engaging I hope only that his fearless urge to attack does not lead him into taking too many risks. The new Albatros D3 is a beauty. That last episode, though, was really frightening. The machine on your tail simply would not let go. I found myself hunching in my chair while watching the video. I’m very glad von Toombs is on the mend and will be back soon.

Harry, I’m glad you were able to put out your RTX2070! The episode where you got hit by flak was a nailbiter. I assume that Laszlo passed through no man’s land disguised as a tank.

MFair, Ganz is off to a blistering start! Great job at bringing down Hudson with a touch of chivalry. Ganz may be a frightful Hun but there’s something vaguely Southern gentleman about him.

Carrick, poor Nigel is having no luck in the claims department. Keep your chin up! Simply surviving is the most important skill in this campaign.

Fullofit, it’s really not fair giving an ace like Toby triplane and putting up against nice, cuddly Halberstadts. If the campaign gods had any sense of justice, he’d be transferred to become the CO of an RE8 squadron. Hmmm. Congratulations on breaking the 60 kill barrier! That is a true accomplishment.

Grishin, welcome to our madness. I enjoyed your combat report format and wish you good luck in your new career. That is one good looking Roland.


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

Part One Hundred One: In which my life changes


Bertie Davison and I returned to the Hotel Mirabeau. I cabled Carson back in Ontario and learned in response that we had a new offer for the distillery from the people in Montréal. Under the terms of my father’s will I had certain financial obligations to my mother and sister, but I could recall nothing that bound me to retain ownership of the distillery. I directed Carson by return wire to confirm that fact with my lawyers and accept the offer. Davison and I stayed up until midnight talking over cocktails in the bar. I could not remember being so excited. Davison was married with a wife and infant daughter in Durham and had little to spare in the way of capital, but his knowledge of the wine market was excellent and his French was passable. We agreed that if the deal for the winery looked good I would put up the capital and Davison would receive a 20% share on credit, which he would repay from dividends as we showed a profit.

We needed to go shopping for civilian clothes. Lefebvre had promised to secure rail tickets to Bordeaux for us and would accompany us there. Our RFC travel warrants did not allow us to go beyond Paris so we decided to keep our hotel rooms and travel in mufti.

Lefebvre proved to be an amiable travelling companion and brought with him a well-stocked picnic hamper. We arrived in Bordeaux and were picked up at the station by a friend of Lefebvre who had a prewar Unic Torpedo. From there we went to Libourne. Bertie and I were booked to share a room in a somewhat grubby little hotel. The restaurant next door more than made up for the accommodations. Lefebvre joined us for a dinner of venison and produced a bottle of Château Pétrus. Was this to be my future, I wondered as I watched the waiter uncork and decant it. The grape was a Merlot, which I had learned from Davison produces a middling quality of wine. “But every rule has its exception,” he said to me, “and this is the grandest exception of all.” The waiter poured a small amount into my glass.

It was an experience like no other. The wine felt like silk on the tongue and the rich, complex taste moved in waves in one’s mouth – a hint of spice, like cinnamon, and a warm, earthy tone. I listened as Bertie and Lefebvre tried to capture the taste in words. This was something I had dismissed as a pretense and understood little of. I understood it now.

“It is the… we say argile,” Lefebvre said. “That’s French for clay,” Davison added. “This bottle is a 1905. Pétrus can reach its peak in 15 to 20 years if the vintage is good.” The dinner was memorable. Lefebvre said he would join us at the winery the following morning, and that we should be prepared to leave the hotel at nine o’clock, at which time a member of the Arnaud family would pick us up.

At exactly nine the next morning a simple carriage arrived, driven by a dusty farmhand and bearing a stunning young woman who introduced herself in halting English as Thérèse Arnaud. Bertie hastened to sit across from her and I followed him into the carriage. The lands of Pétrus were a mere twenty minutes from the town, and during the entire time Bertie monopolised the conversation with Thérèse. Yet I thought I saw her glance in my direction. Or perhaps it was just my imagination.

I had expected a château of some description, but the only building that stood out among the rows of vines was a rather sad farmhouse. We met Thérèse’s uncle there on our arrival. He was clearly the boss of the business. Our negotiations dragged into the afternoon. Neither food nor drink was offered a. Around two o’clock I stood up, exasperated. I told Lefebvre I was tired of trying to make myself understood in French and that I had a war to get back to. If Arnaud was truly interested, I would write a cheque for two thousand francs as a deposit and would have the rest of the money wired to his bank by the end of business Friday. Then I wrote the amount of my final offer on the back of a calling card. Turning to Thérèse, I asked for our coats. Her uncle held up his hand.

[Linked Image]
"Chateau" Petrus

“If I agree to sell to you at this price, will you offer employment to M. Savard, my chief vintner? And to Mme Girardin, the housekeeper?” His English had suddenly become perfect. I smiled and told him that we would do better than that. I would offer to keep him as manager of operations and to keep the entire complement of workers employed until at least six months after the war’s end. And should I not survive that long, I would provide Davison with the right of first refusal to buy my share of the business. Whatever Davison did not buy would then be offered to the Arnaud family based on a fair and independent valuation. He thought for less than a minute and extended a hand, and then called for Mme Girardin to bring a bottle of 1899 with some cheeses and paté.

I had become the owner of a wine estate. Now I simply had to break the news to my family, get back to Paris and arrange for money transfers, and stay alive long enough to enjoy the whole thing. Thérèse shook my hand and then planted a kiss on both my cheeks. She said she would pray for me, but first we would eat and she would take me for a drive through the countryside. There was no mention of Bertie coming along. He looked at me expectantly and, good friend that I was, I told him to sod off.

Attached Files Château Petrus.jpg
Last edited by Raine; 03/23/20 05:54 PM.
#4508596 - 02/26/20 11:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine, welcome back! Hope you had wonderful time and will soon fill us all in. Looking forward to it.
So, there really is something more interesting than an alluring woman. Alcohol! Or is that profit? I have a feeling Collins is getting tired of chasing after Alex. Making wine in France after war, if it ever ends, sounds like an excellent idea.
Great to have you back and your engrossing chronicles.

Harry, a Tripe?! Well done! We need to hear about it. What are you waiting for?

Seb, I have to admit you are the most attractive person in that photo, including the nurses. Those bandages is a good look for you. You should consider keeping them.
As to the scramble challenge, the trick is to stay close to the airfield and let the Flak boys help you. wink Thanks for the praise. I appreciate it!

Grishin, good going. As tempting as it sounds, those Nieuports would have eaten Rauhbein like yourself for breakfast. Better obey those orders.


26 February, 1917 09:00
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar
64 confirmed kills

All three Halberstadts have been confirmed. Even Toby was surprised the two behind the lines were witnessed.
By now it was a familiar song: Patrol friendly front lines from Nieuport to Diksmuide. They climbed to altitude and commenced their patrol - all 5 seconds of it. Toby had the best seats to the “show”! The ‘A’ flight was engaging a pair of DFW’s which happened to cross their path and were now coming overhead. Toby didn’t expect to be a part of this free-for-all massacre. He watched as a gaggle of Tripes split the two bombers and gave one a smoking tail. There was an opening and Toby “passed by” and gave the Hun a friendly squirt from his Vickers, then disengaged to watch the ‘A’ flight finish him off. They tried, but in the end they decided to leave him alone. As if on command they disengaged and followed one another like a family of ducks. Toby grinned to himself and sat his plane behind the smoking beast. The German pilot saw him and aimed his plane towards the sun to handicap the British ace, but it was too late. Toby’s Vickers was singing and the bullets were ripping into the fuselage and the rear gunner. As he came closer he saw the threat was eliminated. He only needed a few more rounds to down this Boche. Then suddenly fwoomp! the petrol ignited and the entire plane was engulfed in flames. It happened so quickly it startled Toby. That was it and just like that they were back to the mundane task of patrolling the skies again.

YouTube Link



They were on their final leg of the patrol, flying north when Toby noticed a rather unnerving sight. Two Ketten of Halberstadts on an intercept course. He looked to his right to check if his wingmen were still with him and then dove in, head first. He picked a victim right away and followed. His rounds slapping the Hun’s fuselage. Toby looked back to see a whole train of angry pilots on his tail and was forced to disengage. His wingmen were doing their best to keep the Halberstadts off his back, but he preferred to play it safe and make himself a difficult target. The engagement has just only begun, he will get his kill yet. He found two more Huns still on his tail and engaged them immediately. Mulberry watched them both as they were turning in circles. He waited for one of them to make a move. There, the trailing Halberstadt lost his nerve and turned the other way. Toby was on him in an instant, firing his gun. The Hun dove away, leaving Mulberry one on one with the other German. Toby knew this dance already and didn’t feel like being led in a circle for the next ten minutes. He flicked his Tripe up and turned tighter than the Halb. He had him! The Boche was in front and getting hit. Toby saw vapour trailing from his fuselage. The German biplane spun down to avoid more fire. Toby let him go. He already had another target in sight. Something weird about that one. He was flying very slowly and Toby had to duck under to avoid a collision. He sparred with him for another few seconds and then watched as the Boche’s propeller began to windmill and then dive for the mud below. Mulberry circled above deciding if he should follow. He didn’t feel like turning ‘Anne’ into target practice for the PBI’s in the trenches. He looked around, the skies were becoming empty but a shape running away east caught his attention. Would he catch him? There was only one way to find out. Toby went after the shape, diving slightly to pick up speed. It took him only 15 seconds to catch up, just in time to see that plane’s propeller stop just like the others’ before. Toby quickly scanned his rear for any surprises and leaned into his Vickers gunsight. He had only enough time for one burst before he overtook the sick Halberstadt. When he looked back, the Hun was now trailing a faint ribbon of vapour. The German was diving for the deck and Toby had had enough of letting them all get away. He circled above for a second contemplating what to do. He then followed this Boche against his better judgment. He came from behind and fired. The Halberstadt pilot dove lower again and Toby paused again trying to convince himself it was a good idea to follow him this low. The change of scenery made up his mind. They were nearly behind the frontlines and the risk of concentrated fire from the ground was minimal. Mulberry dove after his prey again. More fire and yet another dive. They were now on the deck. Toby aimed for the final time and squeezed the trigger. As he flew over the crippled biplane, he watched him catch a tree with his wing and plummet to the ground, collapsing and erupting into a fireball. Mulberry was already turning back to the other side of the mud when another Halberstadt flew by in front of him. He noticed the propeller wasn’t turning. Perhaps it was one of the earlier birds he had wounded? Toby was on him right away firing abeam from below and then positioning himself behind. He had to circle a few times around the Boche to bring him down. This one had luck on his side and was able to land his crate in a field near a church. Mulberry flew nearby and waved to the disembarking pilot. The German was in no mood for pleasantries. Toby flew on to again attempt a crossing of the No-Man’s Land. He didn’t even complete his turn in the westerly direction when one more Halberstadt, returning from air battle happened to fly right in front of Toby’s gunsight. He snuck up behind the German machine, aimed and opened fire. The Hun attempted to evade, but was too low for a dive and instead tried to out-climb a Tripe. It was a costly mistake and for that took a terrible punishment. The debris was flying, puffs of smoke erupted and in the end the pilot made an uncontrolled dive through the trees and smashing into the ground with enormous force. Toby was now pleased with himself. Four Huns in one outing wasn’t too bad of an effort. He turned again for the frontlines, which seemed further and further away each time he tried his return. And this time wouldn’t be any different. Like a skipping record his view was filled again with another German returning from the fight. What will he do? Does he have any ammo left? Only one way to find out! He snuck up behind his target and leaned into the sights. Activity he practiced so many times today. He fired short, controlled bursts. Each bullet had to count. Toby had only enough time to fire two volleys before the German pilot was forced to land and nose over, destroying his machine in the process. Mulberry wondered if he should just close his eyes and turn west to avoid any more Hun encounters. He decided against it. Thankfully this was the last German to return from the battle. Toby had enough time to gain enough altitude before reaching enemy trenches and avoid any fire from below. Upon his return he claimed five German machines, but was not optimistic. All of them occurred behind enemy lines.

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."
#4508597 - 02/26/20 11:58 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 3,696
Fullofit Offline
Senior Member
Fullofit  Offline
Senior Member

Joined: Nov 2014
Posts: 3,696
Ajax, ON
Originally Posted by Raine
Fullofit, it’s really not fair giving an ace like Toby triplane and putting up against nice, cuddly Halberstadts. If the campaign gods had any sense of justice, he’d be transferred to become the CO of an RE8 squadron. Hmmm. Congratulations on breaking the 60 kill barrier! That is a true accomplishment.

The Gods must be crazy! I agree that it is not fair, but it's not my fault. Why are they still flying these cuddly Halberstadts? Everyone else in here is flying the Albatros by now.
Congratulations on your new property. Looks like it'll come fully stocked and complete with Thérèse to boot. Alex is going to be jealous.


"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."
#4508598 - 02/27/20 01:08 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
carrick58 Offline
Hotshot
carrick58  Offline
Hotshot

Joined: Aug 2010
Posts: 6,659
In a fair world, Toby would be in a BE2 as a Observer with a Rock.

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