Wooden nickels ?

Lou - I'm not sure yet if Oliver ever got to Singapore during his voyages on Astoria, but Smokey sure did, and likely he knows that particular brothel. I'll ask him if the General has a point or not.

Carrick - First landscaping now lone wolfing. I'm getting concerned for Nigel.

Wulfe - Great to see Evan back. He went full-blown Bishop on those Albs.

Raine - a suberbly well-written example of a concise backstory and introduction. Some days I do wish I'd gone that route. Total flashbacks of reading Josephine Tey's "Daughter of Time," as a kid. Yes, I do believe Richard offed the children.

MFair - Luftstreitkräfte vehemently protests the shopworn condition in which you have returned Leutnant Ganz to hospital. Flowers will work nearly as well to gain Nurse Heidi's favor.

Fullofit - Did these wingmen find some downed flieger's methamphetamine stash? Yikes! Congrats on surviving. Isn't here a setting for this or was that just the formation flying one from years ago?

Fullofit, that was as close as it gets! Can’t lose Toby now.

Buckey, ah, but he wasn’t hit in the head this time. It was his good leg, that makes 2 leg wounds and 1 head wound. If he Ganz makes it through this war he will be one lucky man. To your point, he never should have dove from above and behind giving the gunner a perfect shot.

Two wounds to each arm and you will have all your appendages covered, although you may not have enough room on the sleeve for five wound stripes.

ePower, I'm sorry I did not include you in my recent summary. Will Oliver's lady friend turn out to be a Florence Nightingale or a femme fatale? Perhaps both? Stay alive so we can learn the truth!

Carrick, you've answered my question about a wooden nickle. But, what about a plug nickle? And, why am I suddenly obsessed with nickles?

Bob, are you sure it’s not Nicole? I’m pretty sure I could obsess about her too.

Epower, no idea what they were smoking, but it couldn’t have been any good. And if there is a setting to make wingmen keep their distance then I’m all for it, but that may only happen with the upcoming update.

Time will tell, Bob, assuming young Oliver survives. My money's on a bit of both.

BTW, any chance we can temp you into having a go?

Still haven't had a chance to catch up on everyone's stories. It's late now so I'll do it tomorrow...


The Life and Times of a Temporary Gentleman – memoirs of Second Lieutenant Thomas “Bertie” Wilder, Royal Flying Corps

Chapter 2

9-11 April 1917


I was lucky to find a room in St-Omer, the Hôtel de France. It was tempting to write whomever is Prime Minister of France this month and inform him that the place is defaming the country’s good name. I paid to share a room with another novice pilot only to find that the place had one narrow bed. It was too late to move so I slept on the floor. Breakfast in the morning consisted of coffee and a simple bun. I headed to the airfield to get an early flip in a Sopwith. Every airman I had met coming from France told me that inexperience kills the majority of pilots in their first three weeks; I’d be blasted if I was going to let unfamiliarity with rotary scouts kill me.

But the army is what the army is. I reported to the adjutant of the Pilots’ Pool who told me to go back for my kit and report to the Pool HQ by nine o’clock. There I would find a tender to take me and another chap to a place called Aire, where I would join No. 40 Squadron – Nieuport scouts! I protested strongly that I had never seen a Nieuport scout, never mind fly one. The adjutant was less than sympathetic. His response was, “Well then, you should have plenty of opportunity with 40 Squadron. Good luck. Cheerio!”

The tender was already there when I arrived with my kit, having paid a porter to trundle it over in a pushcart. Another pilot, a fresh-faced boy named Skeffington, was also waiting for the tender and bound for 40 Squadron. A lieutenant emerged from the hut and greeted us. His name was Gregory. He spoke with a very plummy accent tinged with a hint of Irish. I double checked his rank. He was at least 15 years older than me and far too old to be a lieutenant. But he spoke with an air of authority and suggested that the two of us ride in the back. There is easily room for one more passenger up front , but I thought the better of arguing. Make a good first impression and all…

It took an hour on desperately muddy roads to get to Aire. Skeffington paddled on the whole time. He done his final training at Gosport and was a cocky little snit. “Nieuports are topping,” he proclaimed. “You can throw them about and outturn any Hun. Are you good with the Lewis? They have a quadrant mount, you know. But try not to tear the wings off. Happens all the time. Probably why were both headed to Aire at the same time, what? Chaps thundering in without wings. Us as replacements. What school did you go to? I’m a Carthusian myself.” He was wearing a maternity jacket and RFC collar dogs so I asked him what regiment he’d fought with before transferring. That shut him up quick enough.

We arrived at the aerodrome just before lunch. There was a fine drizzle and mist, and all flying was scrubbed. The officers’ wooden huts were on the west side of the field close to the men’s kitchen building. Lieutenant Gregory told us to throw our bags in the first hut and pointed to a building on the far side of the field. “That’s the officers’ mess. Meet me there and I’ll introduce you to the CO.”

Lunch was underway when Skeffington and I arrived. It was an informal affair. Clearly, many of the officers were not in attendance. The CO’s name was Major Tilney. Gregory introduced him as an old Etonian. Tilney asked about my background and I told him my father was an old India hand but had been invalided home. That took some of the sting out of my account of life at Reading School. He was appalled at my lack of preparation for Nieuports and suggested that I take a flip in one the moment the weather broke. I dutifully took my place at the bottom of the table, introducing myself to the subalterns there. It seemed many of us were new here. And I learned that the squadron had only recently given up their obsolete FE8s.

The rain persisted. Skeffington insisted on going up regardless of the low ceiling. He attempted to roll his Nieuport over the field and was nearly buffeted into a line of trees bordering the village to the immediate north of our field. He gave up and put his machine down, breaking the undercarriage in the process. I listened to some of the older hands pronounce it a foolish effort and retired with some satisfaction to my hut. Six of us shared the hut – a South African named Hall, another Royal Engineer named Ellis, Skeffington, and a tall Irishman named “Mick” something. And of course, me.

The despatch rider from Wing arrived before dinner with squadron orders for the morrow. I learned that Major Tilney would assign patrols orally after the meal and would post formal orders about an hour later.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Skeffington talked a great deal until Ellis asked how many undercarriages he broke at Gosport. After that the chat was mainly about the great push underway. It appeared that the Canadians had succeeded in taking high ground at Vimy and that this was considered a Major Victory. Barlow, I learned, had also been a despatch rider like me until it was discovered he was only 15 at the time! Now he was back in service and had only recently joined the squadron. Another recent arrival was the tall Irishman, whose name was Mannock and who spent most of his meal eyeing me suspiciously.

I was assigned to C Flight, commanded by Captain Todd. Mannock, Hall, Ellis, Skeffington, and I filled out the rest of the flight. On the morning of 10 April 1917, we were to fly up to St-Omer and patrol there because Hun bombers had been making forays over our lines in that direction. Ellis stayed back and Lieutenant Napier from B Flight took his place. It was an uneventful jaunt and gave me an opportunity to learn a bit of the landscape and get familiar with the Nieuport. As the new bug, mine was one of the squadron’s older machines. Regardless, I liked the thing immediately. Visibility was excellent and the aircraft was nimble. When I had a chance I practised lowering the Lewis gun on its mount and changing the ammunition drums. I had a chance to fire a few bursts to warm the gun and was impressed by its rate of fire. Apparently the gun fires at a slight angle above the horizontal and the sight needs to be adjusted for the preferred range. Mine was set to 100 yards which is considered rather close but is an effective range in a fight. At least my formation flying was not too shoddy. I dropped back a couple of times and once got a bit ahead of Napier, on whose right I flew. But at least I did not come too close to him and when we landed he gave me a few pointers and told me that I had done well for first time out on an unfamiliar machine.

At three in the afternoon, Captain Todd led Mannock, Hall, Skeffington, and me towards the lines near Vimy. There were reports of heavy enemy presence in this area. Captain Todd told me to keep alert and to dive under the formation if we came under attack. “If you hear a machine gun, presume it’s firing at you and get the hell out of there. Never fly straight when near the enemy.” We took off and circled the aerodrome, climbing to 5000 feet before setting off south-east to the lines. We had flown for about 20 minutes and climb to 8000 feet before I got my first look at the front from the air. It looked like a giant had dragged his heel across the earth, ripping up the green fields and tumbling over towns and villages. Around Vimy a constant rippling of shell bursts created a pall of smoke that hit the ground from view. My neck had begun to hurt from turning and searching the sky. Todd had flown south for ten minutes and now turned north again. A minute later he waggled his wings – his sign for “enemy sighted.” The other machines began to climb and I followed, searching vainly. Just when I thought the whole thing must be a joke, a yellow and green streamlined aeroplane flashed past me and I caught the merest glimpse of black crosses. I remembered to dive under the formation – but there was no formation. Our Nieuports turned left and right, some climbing and some diving. A glance over my right shoulder revealed an ominous looking machine turning behind me. It was time to learn about the Nieuport.

I turn to the right as tightly as I dared. The Hun turned with me. My first instinct was to do something different, but I noted that with each circle I was gaining an advantage. If I could hold this turn radius for 15 or 20 more circles, I would come out on the Hun’s tail. The enemy pilot must have come to the same conclusion, for he tried to dive under me. I rolled and followed him, throttling back and thinking of Skeffington’s description of Nieuports shedding their wings. The machine groaned fearfully as I pulled it level and open the throttle. The Hun was ahead of me and turning left. I turned more sharply and drew closer. Now, for the first time, I fired the Lewis gun in anger. I remembered to aim slightly ahead of my target in the turn. To my great surprise, I saw rounds hitting the Albatros (for that is certainly what it was). Another silver Nieuport suddenly pulled directly in front of me from beneath and I wrenched my machine to the right to avoid a collision. I stalled briefly, recovered, and emerged to find the Hun less than 300 yards in front of me. A thin stream of grey vapour trails behind him. I checked behind and all was clear. I waited and then waited some more. The enemy machine grew larger in my gunsight. And then I fired – three long bursts. I knew from the first that the Hun was finished. His machine staggered and dropped its wings to the left and then spiralled down to crash between the lines.


"His machine staggered and dropped its wings to the left and then spiralled down to crash between the lines."

On our return to Aire, Hall reported seeing the Albatros fall and crash. It was my first time over the lines, and my first claim, and now it was confirmed. That night I drank for free in the mess, chatting freely with Napier and Ellis and even Gregory, the plummy officer who had met us at the pilots’ pool. I learned Gregory was a Harrovian, a champion cricketer, and a great friend of the poet Yeats. Skeffington did not join us. He had not been seen since the beginning of the scrap that afternoon.

The morning flight on 11 April was another defensive patrol down towards our aerodromes near Amiens. We saw nothing and returned by eight o’clock for a proper breakfast. I began to pick up on the mess gossip. The squadron saw itself as a cut above the normal and the old boys were harsh in their criticism of any pilot who did not show “moral fibre.” Moral fibre, I suspected, was sold at a discount in places like Eton and Harrow. A mere Redingensian like me had to pay full price to be judged fit. And my confirmed Hun had been deemed an adequate down payment for probationary membership in the squadron’s inner circle. There were at least a couple of pilots who were considered “not quite.” Mannock, the tall Irishman, was one of them. I was advised to watch him carefully in a scrap.

That afternoon we were over the lines again, this time to escort a pair of BE2Cs on an artillery shoot behind Vimy Ridge. The BE2 was a mainstay of the RFC through the first two years of the war. Now it is desperately outdated and many of the chaps say it is next to murder to send them out over the lines. Nonetheless, the two machines we were shepherding were flown by stout fellows. They cross the lines at little over 5000 feet and paraded back and forward amidst thick anti-aircraft fire to do their job of work.

This was my first experience of “Archie,” as anti-aircraft artillery is universally termed. The expression derives from the popular George Robie song. The first time I saw it was when we passed the German balloon line, climbing to get above the escorted two-seaters. A flash appeared a hundred yards ahead and just to the right of my machine and was immediately replaced by a black cotton-like puff of smoke. I could smell the cordite as I flew close to it and saw the black turned to brown. Burst after burst appeared all around us. I looked behind and saw the puffs of smoke like black breadcrumbs marking our path.

The two-seaters finished their work and headed back to our side of the lines. Todd flew several hundred feet above them and a half-mile behind. We had reached the lines after ten minutes of fighting a westerly headwind when Todd fired a red Very light to signal that enemy aircraft were in sight. I looked all about without success. Napier noticed and gestured behind us. Then I saw them. There were six Albatros scouts about 500 yards behind and above us. They were gaining quickly. I thought the temptation to turn about and meet them, but was sure that I should wait for a signal or something from the flight commander. The Huns drew even closer. Then, when they were about 250 yards away, Captain Todd pulled up into a climbing turn. I banked vertically and followed.

For the next eternity, the sky was full of flashing Hun machines and the smoke-streams of tracer rounds. I saw a silver Nieuport with an Albatros on its tail, firing. I dived on the Hun and fired a quick burst. It rolled on its back and disappeared. Now tracer was whizzing between my wings and I climbed into a turn to shake off the Hun. Now another Albatros was attacking head-on. We both fired and at the last second passed within inches of a collision. And then the sky was empty. I turned west, gasping for air and elated at being alive. I looked all around. Far off to the south-west I saw a single machine heading west but could not tell if it were a Nieuport or a BE2. Then I looked behind and saw five machines circling about. Some of our lads were in trouble. I thought of the conversations in the mess. Already I was over our own lines and well rid of the fight. But if I did not turn back I would risk becoming a social outcast. With a heavy heart I turned about and climbed into the fight. There were two Nieuports and three Huns. As I approached, two of the Huns gave up and headed east. The third was hard on the tail of one of the Nieuports – Todd’s. I fired from a distance and it turned away and dived for home.

I headed west and then, remembering the lone machine I’d seen earlier, I angled towards the south-west. I was feeling dutiful now and wanted to ensure that our two-seaters made it safely home. It seemed like the right thing to do. It also seemed rather safe. As I regained our lines I saw two machines in the distance. One was clearly a Nieuport as it showed up white against the dark earth. The other was following it and was of a darker colour. As I approached, the darker machine turned east and revealed itself to be an Albatros which had been following one of ours. With a height advantage I turned and dived on the Hun. He did not see me until it was too late. I fired a full drum in short bursts and saw the Albatros spin down and crash near the German lines to the east of our aerodrome at Boiry-St-Martin. I claimed this Hun but our Recording Officer could not confirm it without securing a witness from the front. He said he would make some telephone calls.


"I fired a full drum in short bursts and saw the Albatros spin down and crash..."

All in all, it had been an eventful couple of days.

.

Wulfe - Evan appears to be getting the hang of the Bristol and how to fight the Hun with it. But I too want to know what's become of Wickham, and why the sudden replacement. Another fine episode.
As to Swany going up against those infamous jastas, he can only guess who his opponents might have been. Much as in your own man's experience, anytime a bunch of brightly colored Albs are zipping about the assumption is it must be the Circus.

Raine - I am thoroughly enjoying getting to know Bertie Wilder, a most interesting fellow. He's wasted no time proving his mettle in combat, it's no wonder he's already been invited into the inner circle. Now as to his heritage and his ancestor's service to the Norreys family, clearly that long line of gardeners worked at Yattendon Castle, (when there was castle), so I have to ask: which of Bertie's forebearers was about during the whole Henry Norreys/Anne Boleyn affair, and how were they involved in it? Something tells me that, in some way or another, they must have been. I can only hope that, whoever it was, they kept their head.
"...employed at the Tower of London as the King’s child-minders", that one made me laugh out loud.

MFair - To quote the falling pot of petunias from HHGTTG, "oh no, not again". Poor old Gunther, catching yet another bullet. Ah well, helloooooo nurse! Here's wishing him a speedy recovery.

Fullofit - Looks like Toby was the interloper initially in that near-ender. That other Tripe jockey wanted his kill back and wasn't going to let Mulberry or anyone else get in his way. He chose --- poorly. Glad Chesty was able to keep on the right side of the sod in that one.

BuckeyeBob - Yup, you called it, no way to keep something that outrageous a secret for long. And the "General Whisperer" indeed. Lucky Swany has him for a CO, eh what?

Carrick - Actually, if you check online prices, wooden nickels are worth quite a bit more than five cents. Just sayin'.

Epower - It would not surprise me a bit to learn that Smokey has some fair knowledge concerning Singapore brothels, given what we know about him so far.

.

Lou,

Bernie's ancestor Tobias Wylder testified against Henry Norrys. He was going to testify on Ann's behalf, but Thomas Cromwell paid better. He acquired a lovely cottage on the estate after and no one said anything against him.

After Cromwell was executed, Tobias joined the Church and moved to Newbury.

.

hee hee hee

.

.

14 April 1917
66 Squadron R.F.C.
Vert Galand, France

Rain and sleet over Vert Galand and the front today which resulted in two cold, wet tours of the lines at Vimy with nothing to see but, surprise surprise, rain and sleet. Two of Captain Swanson's claims from yesterday's outings were approved giving him another brace of V-strutters to his credit, bringing his current total to 65, over twice that of snitcher Ball across the road. This news, along with that he received yesterday afternoon from Major Boyd about his new livery, has Swany in a fairly good mood, all things considered. Now if the nightmares that have been haunting him over the last several nights would depart, he'd be doing quite fine, or at least as fine as a fellow can be whose job it is to go out two or more times a day to stare death in the eye.

.

What a great selection of stories! Gathering them up as Epower and Lou have suggested would be a fine project.

Fullofit, Toby is making it look too simple. The flight with a collision was a shocker. It says a lot about Toby that, in the half second after colliding, he managed a five or six round burst at the Albatros. The gods must be smiling at the boy. In the next few seconds, the Hun crashes and the other Tripe goes down, but Toby carries on regardless!

Lou, I enjoyed Major Boyd’s conversation with the General. And it’s good to know that the GOC clearly frequents the more fashionable and colourful Singapore bordellos. By the way, the Recording Officer just answered the phone. It seems that one of our field artillery batteries has reported to Albatri and the balloon shut down by what appeared to be a flying pinball machine.

Wulfe, that was an excellent recounting of 48 Squadron’s smashing by Richthofen’s gang and the evolution of fighter tactics with the Bristol.

MFair, I hope you avoided too much damage from the tornadoes that passed through your way! It makes you shake your head. First, a pandemic comes and locks you in the ranch. Then a tornado hits the ranch. You give up and decide to fly WOFF for a break from reality. Then you get knocked out for 15 days! I wouldn’t be buying any lottery tickets right now if I were you… Best of luck, pard!

Epower, thanks for the kind words. I looked up “The Daughter of Time” and it sounds like one I really must read. Mind you, according to family lore in Bertie’s household, Nicholas and his lovely wife might not have technically been ordered by Richard III to snuff the little princes; instead they were demonstrating a very early version of “working toward the Fuehrer.”

Carrick, Nigel has more guts than Dick Tracy going after those two seaters like he does. I have always found the Nieuport scouts to be very vulnerable to their gunners!

Raine, I like Skeffington! This “Mick” on the other hand ... probably will end up like that Ball prat. Congrats on your first and at the same time confirmed victory.
Toby continued to fire because his reflexes aren't what they used to be. it was not intentional. I'm pretty sure the other Tripe caught a few of those as well. And I still don't know why he remained in one piece. Divine intervention.

Lou, normally you would be right, but that git wasn’t doing the chasing but instead was being chased by the Albatros. He should have been grateful.
Congrats on another two victories. That will show Ball how it’s done. He will not get any claims by snitching.

14 April, 1917 05:45 morning mission
Auchel, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar, L d’H
94 confirmed kills
Awaiting one victory confirmation

The bombs whistled by Toby’s plane as they fell to one side and exploded harmlessly near the aerodrome which he had just taken off from. As he climbed, the Ack-Ack pointed the way in the sky where the enemy was lurking. He could make out 4 Albatroses ahead, but the bombs came from overhead. This had to be the escort and the bombers roamed freely high above. No chance to get at them, but the escort ... that’s another story. They spotted Mulberry and his wingmen climbing to meet the challenge. He could see them diving one at a time. Toby saw one dive away to one side while the rest stayed together. It would be an easy kill, isolated like that by himself, but he’d seen the Huns resort to all kinds of subterfuge. It was a rouse! As soon as Toby would turn to chase, two more Huns waited just above ready to pounce on his tail. Instead, he banked to meet the two Boches waiting for an easy kill. The mad turning began, but Toby’s machine was much more maneuverable and he soon had them scrambling. They were flying too close to each other and Mulberry knew one of them had to give way. As soon as one of the Huns dove away, he was on him and firing. The German squirmed in every direction but it was no use. Toby’s gun found him at each turn. The Albatros took immense punishment and in the end disintegrated mid-air. Mulberry was already twisting to find the second Hun and it only took a few moments to have him on the run and being shot at. The second Albatros went down close to the smoking column of the first one. Mulberry flew through a cloud of dirt and dust that the enemy’s wreck kicked up in the air when it crashed. Toby scanned the sky, but didn’t find anything except a formation of Triplanes from the ‘A’ flight serenely floating through the air in perfect formation, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just occurred. Toby rolled his eyes and was about to turn back to the airfield when he noticed more Archie bursts to the east. There was more action to be had. As he approached the melee, he realized two Albatroses battling with a single Tripe. He watched as one of the Huns made a tight turn to get on the tail of the Tripe, who in turn was following the other Albatros. It was a train of planes and Toby was about to become the caboose. Mulberry watched everything play out in front of him. First, the leading Albatros went to port to avoid the Tripe, then the Tripe went to starboard to avoid the trailing Albatros and finally the trailing Albatros dove to avoid Toby. Since Toby didn’t have to avoid anybody, he followed his target down and made sure the Boche never went up again. The Albatros crashed east of the aerodrome. It was a short flight back to base.

YouTube Link




14 April, 1917 11:40 noon mission
Auchel, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar, L d’H
94 confirmed kills
Awaiting four victory confirmations

The HQ sent them to patrol over enemy airfield at La Petrie. Toby always considered these kind of missions to be a hunt for tired and wounded prey returning home. They would circle like vultures above enemy aerodrome waiting for the enemy to come to them after completing their mission. They were approaching their destination, but suddenly Jenner-Parsons peeled away and soon was followed by McDonald. ‘Bob’ Little stayed with Toby. The other pair must have spotted a Hun somewhere that was currently escaping Toby’s gaze. He traced their flightpath with his eyes to a point ahead. There! They were following a single Albatros. Mulberry considered joining the other two, intending to help them if need be. He knew where there is one Hun there will be more. He was just about to make his move when he noticed that “more” part of his last thought. They were flying directly above him. Where did they come from?! He continued to fly in their shadow, while gaining altitude to reach their level without being detected. They continued straight on. The leader had his fuselage painted scarlet red. Could it be? The fellow that followed him had a black tail. The pair was oblivious to the goings on just below. Toby was now close, really close. He looked to port where Jenner-Parsons and McDonald disappeared chasing their Hun. There was no sign of them. Then he scanned his rear. ‘Bob’ was still trailing behind him. He was gesticulating at something further back and above. Mulberry craned his neck to see. There were three more Huns in pursuit. It was getting interesting. Will he be able to reach the red Albatros before his friends crash the party? Toby took another look at his target, but the plane wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Where is he?! Had he been spotted? Toby’s heart stopped. Was the Baron hunting him? Where did he get to?! There! The red plane was diving steeply, but he wasn’t after him. He must have spotted Jenner-Parsons or McDonald battling one of his wingmen and was getting ready to pounce on any survivors. Little did he know he was being hunted himself. Toby was now just behind him, his Vickers trained on the red fuselage. Fire! ‘Anne’ began to spit venom. The rounds connected with the Albatros in front, but then his Vickers fell silent. Bloody hell! A jam! Not now! Toby desperately assaulted the back of his gun with his gloved fist. The Albatros in front continued to fly inexplicably straight and level. Did he hit him and paralyzed or blinded the Hun? The breech cleared. Toby squeezed the trigger again. More bullets smashed into the plywood monocoque and then the pilot disappeared inside the cockpit, the engine let out a cough of grey smoke and the red machine nosedived straight down. Mulberry couldn’t believe. It was done. The Baron was no more. He felt disappointed. Robbed of an epic dogfight, historic battle. It felt like a backstab in a dark alley. He had no time to feel sorry. Baron’s bodyguard with the black tail found him. The two machines began their air ballet, with Toby staying on the tail of this new challenger. The Boche was capable and skillfully avoided finding himself in front of Toby’s gunsight. There had to be an end to this duel. The “black tail” eventually used up all the altitude and had no more places to hide. No more tricks to use. Toby’s bullets began to find its target and the Hun was finally bested. His Albatros crashed to the ground just south-east of La Petrie aerodrome. Mulberry looked around to find himself alone, deep inside enemy territory. He quickly gained some altitude and made a beeline west towards Auchel. Once on the ground he made two more claims.

YouTube Link

Raine: 2 Seat 's have done in more of my pilots than trees. Nigel more often than not fires at Long Range. Thus no kills so far,but as in Sat Night Fever " He's Staying alive".

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rfc
1 Rfc Sqn
Flanders
2 unconfirmed
Bell Asylum, Flanders


April 15, 1917.


The Sqn put up 7 a/c including a few N-23's assigned to our leader's and Aces for a Rail Jct attack. We caused little damage. Later during mess, the C.O. came by and said that I was put in for 2nd Lt.

Excellent stories gents - keep them coming. They are a great morning read with my coffee.

MFair - Sorry to hear that Granz is in hospital again - how long will he be away for?

Unteroffizier Karl Roth

Jasta 6 Wassigny 8 – 14 April 1917

8 April 06h46: Intercept inbound aircraft - Front Line Trenches, Havrincourt

Kette spotted 5 British Sopwith Pups heading West at 12,000 feet. Kettes Vier and Drei were at 12,000 feet heading South West approaching from Anneux. The Kettes circled and attacked the British aircraft. Karl spotted a British machine circling to get on the tail of Feldwebel Ulrich Laumann. Karl positioned himself to incept the British aircraft. He got on to its tail and fired two long bursts of 20 – 40 rounds each. The British pilot attempted to head West, but Karl again fired three short bursts of 5 – 20 rounds each. The British aircraft went out of control and crashed 500 feet West of Havrincourt Wood. All Jasta aircraft returned to Wassigny airfield safely.

Karl submitted a claim for the destroyed British Sopwith Pup. Also, Lt Bernard Frankl also submitted a claim for a downed Sopwith Pup.

8 April 14h58: Intercept – Patrol area over area over Tournai

As the Kette was gaining height to start the patrol, South West of Le Cateau they were attacked by 6 French Nieuport 23’s from Esc 67 at 4,000 feet. Both Drei and Vier Kettes reacted to the threat and a number of private battles started. Karl was in difficulty as a French pilot attempted to get on his tail. Karl in his Albatros DII was unable to out climb or out manoeuvre the French machine. Karl took a burst of fire which tore into his aircraft. Karl tried to keep his height, so when the French Nieuport made a dive and over shot, Karl was able to get onto tail and fired a burst of 20 – 30 rounds. This seems to have put the Frenchman off continuing the engagement, as he headed Westwards. Although Karl attempted to pursue the French aircraft, he was unable to keep up so decided to return to Wassigny airfield. Karl was relieved have landed safely without damaging his Albatros, although his aircraft had been lightly damaged during the engagement.

Feldwebel Ulrich Laumann claimed a Nieuport 23 destroyed South of Le Cateau.

9 April:

Karl was informed that his two claims had been confirmed. Also, Oberleutnant Reinhard Mueller had a French Nieuport 23 claim confirmed which bring his current tally up to 4 kills.

9 April 06h46: Reconnaissance – Miesnil-Bruntel to Ham

The group were subjected to heavy enemy ground fire but no damage was sustained, and all aircraft returned safely.

Oberleutnant Reinhard Mueller flying with Kette Drei claimed a French Sopwith Stutter destroyed over area of Bohain.

9 April 15h52: Patrol Friendly Front Lines – Tergnier to Etreillers

Rain throughout the patrol. Uneventful flight.

Lt Bernard Frankl had his Sopwith Pup shot down on 8th April confirmed. He now has 2 kills.

10 April

06h45: Patrol Enemy Front Lines - Villers-Plouich to Etreillers. Weather overcast. Uneventful flight
15h27: Ballon Defence – Anneux, 3 miles West of Cambrai. Uneventful flight

11 April:

Oberleutnant Reinhard Muller had his claim confirmed in respect of the Sopwith Strutter that downed on 8 April. This is Reinhard fifth kill, so makes him an ace ‘big gun’

Feldwebel Ulrich Laumann also had his Nieuport 23 claim confirmed giving him his first kill.

05H46: Intercept – Report of enemy aircraft in area of Tournai

Lt Ernst Meyer had to made an emergency landing at Aulnoye as his engine was overheating. He landed safely.

As the Kette was descending to land they were attacked by 5 Nieuport 23’s from Esc Lafayette approaching from the South West at a height of 8,000 feet. The Kette was heading North at 7,000 feet. As the Kette reacted to the attack, Karl made a sharp turn, which allowed him to gain some height and keep out of trouble. Karl noticed that a French aircraft was on the tail of Reinhard Mueller, so Karl circled to intercept. He got within 150 feet before he fired two long bursts of 20 – 30 rounds. The French pilot attempted the head West, but Karl fired two more long bursts of 30 – 40 rounds.

The French machine went out of control and crashed, 1-mile West of Wassigny and ½ mile South of the church.

On landing Karl noticed that all the Kette aircraft had received damage, except his.

Feldwebel Erich Wolff also claimed a Nieuport 23 destroyed.

14h51: Close Air Support (3 DFW CV from Fa (A) 294b) – Attack targets in the Langaveries area.

Attack was made by all three aircraft. All aircraft returned safely.

12 April:

Feldwebel Erich Wolff and Karl both had their claims confirmed. Erich’s second kill and Karl’s tenth.

06h46: Patrol Enemy Front Lines – Tergnier to Roupy. Uneventful flight

15h05: Balloon Busting – Observation Balloon located West of Montigny Ferme.

The Kette approached from the North East. Lt Bernard Frankl would lead the attack, with Karl following up. Feldwebels Erich Wolff and Ulrich Laumann would give top cover.

As Bernard Frankl approached to make his attack, 2 French Spad VII’s attempted to attack Bernard and Karl. Both reacted, and as soon as the French pilots realised that they would not be getting any easy kills they turn away and headed West. Karl attempted to pursue them but was unable to keep up, so he positioned himself so he could protect Bernard from any further attacks, as he continued his approach. The balloon exploded in a great ball of flames and smoke. Both Jasta 6 pilots headed back to Wassigny. All Kette pilots returned safely.

Lt Bernard Frankl submitted a claim for the destroyed observation balloon.

13 April: Karl got some good news this morning - that he had been promoted to Vizefeldwebel and has been allocated an Albatros DIII which had previously been flown by Lt Johannes Osterkamp (who had recently been posted as a flight training instructor). Until there is time to change it, Karl would fly with the livery that Johannes has had painted on the machine.

Note: The allocated aircraft is an Albatros DIII (early).

06h46: Balloon Busting – Observation Balloon Location East of Lechelle.

HQ were so impressed with yesterdays mission that they have given the Jasta another balloon busting task – ‘Lucky us’

The flight to Lechelle was uneventful. The Kette approached the observation balloon site from the North East. Oberleutnant Reinhard Mueller lead the attack, followed by Karl. They must have taken the ground defence gunners by surprise as the balloon was in flames before there was any ground defensive fire. The Kette formed up and all returned to Wassigny safely.

Oberleutnant Reinhard Mueller submitted a claimed for the destroyed observation balloon.

15h14: Balloon Defence – St. Quentin

Uneventful flight.

14 April:

Lt Bernard Frankl had his claim of an observation balloon on 12 April confirmed. This is his third kill.

05h47: Airfield Defence – Aniche

Uneventful flight.

14h33: Patrol Friendly Front Lines – Etreillers to Tergnier

Uneventful flight.

.

Beanie - Karl has been a busy man. So how many victories does he have to his credit now? He must be getting up there. Great screenshot of his kette in the air.

Carrick - Whatever lucky charm Nigel carries with him he best take good care of it. How he manages to make it back in one piece after flying that low over a Hun railyard, well that just has to be some amazing good fortune.

Fullofit - The Baron is dead? I don't believe it, I think someone else must have taken his plane out for a joyride. Now whoever it was flying that black tail, he looked to be more of the ace. Still, Toby managed to best him too. Well done.

Raine - A pinball machine? Who was the Recording Officer, Lieutenant A.N. Achronism?

.

15 April 1917
66 Squadron R.F.C.
Vert Galand, France

Two sorties for B Flight today, both line patrols. The morning outing was uneventful, not so however for the afternoon show. It started well enough, with the successful bringing down and capture of another DFW, but ended much differently. The following tells the tale.


After stalking his prey carefully Captain Swanson opens fire on the DFW and sees the gunner immediately slump off to the side. He also sees the target's prop windmill to a stop. Quite the devastating volley.



The King's ace cautiously pulls along side the Hun bus, ready to carve away on the chance that the Boche G/O may be playing possum. He is not.



Swany swings back and forth around the disabled enemy bus and signals the pilot to land at the aerodrome below. Amid freindly AA bursts the Captain escorts his prize down to Chamblain where he sees it land intact.



Swanson rejoins his flight and finishes the patrol, thinking all the while that afterwards he shall return to Chamblain to inspect his trophy. But on approach to Vert Galand one of the Pups begins belching smoke. It's that of 2nd Lt. Dobbs, a new fellow who arrived not but two days ago, green as the spring grass.



Captain Swanson pulls along side and watches helplessly as the plane suddenly catches fire. The lad looks directly at him, his face contourted with fear and panic. Swany tries to signal to Dobbs to shut off the fuel and mags and dive to extinguish the flames, but in the next instant the Pup goes nearly vertical as the boy writhes about trying to escape the hell that is now his cockpit. Seconds later he and his Pup are one, a fiery crater in the field below.



Captain Swanson lands his own mount, looking over at the remains as he coasts to a stop. He leaps from his Pup and sprints across to help, knowing full well there will be nothing to do now but wait for the wreck to burn off, then find what little there might be left to bury of the poor unfortunate.


.