10 July, 1917 06:00 morning mission
Ghistelles, Flanders Sector
Jasta 17
Offizierstellvertreter Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2
9 confirmed kills

After two days of bad weather, being cooped up and no opportunity to take his new mount for a test flight, Ziggy was relieved the bad weather relented. They’ve been sent on barrage patrol of friendly lines between Mesen and Messines. It was wonderful to take his new D.V up, but the enemy didn’t want to cooperate and none of their planes were sighted. Nevertheless it was a delightful flight.

10 July, 1917 12:50 afternoon mission
Ghistelles, Flanders Sector
Jasta 17
Offizierstellvertreter Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2
9 confirmed kills

Their second mission of the day was a balloon defence north of Passchendaele. It was a waste of time. No one intended to attack the balloon they were protecting. They came back home with nothing to show for it. The new Albatros’ Mercedes engine run smoothly and Ziggy had no complaints as to its performance.

Fullofit: Sweet looking DV

Raine: Claims rejected ya got Robbed. It makes one wonder what the claims people do all day.

Fido Bedlow
Sgt, Rfc.

23rd Medical Unit
II Corp Hospital
3rd Army Bungalow 7,
Bed 9
Narbonne, France.

July 11, 1917.


I get released tomorrow .

Carrick, I'm sure the nurses will be sorry to see Fido go.

11 July, 1917 05:50 morning mission
Ghistelles, Flanders Sector
Jasta 17
Offizierstellvertreter Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2
9 confirmed kills

They’ve been ordered to scramble. Enemy machines were approaching. Ziggy and the rest got off the ground unmolested, but once in the air, a whole unit of Pups came after them. Zygmunt noticed an Englander coming right at him and they began to scrap with each other. Another Albatros arrived soon after, but the two of them could barely keep up with the Englander. Hahn was able to get in a few shots and thus weaken the enemy. The other Albatros jumped at the chance to fire at the Pup as well. Each man wanted the glory of bringing the skillful enemy down. Ziggy felt like he did most of the damage and deserved this kill. He managed to slip in and land last rounds into the falling Sopwith. Feldwebel Fitzner in the other Albatros was not amused. He was robbed of an easy victory-steal. Zygmunt finally had a machine that would protect him from thieves.
After the fight the two pilots were returning to Ghistelles when Zygmunt noticed movement below and found another Pup trying to slink back across the lines. Hahn’s new D.V easily caught up with him and unloaded unimaginable amount of lead into the back of the English plane. The stricken machine took a dive and crashed below. Zygmunt decided it was a right time to return to base. Schwarm Eins was already circling the aerodrome in a landing pattern and could easily confirm Ziggy’s claim.

YouTube Link

Fido Iggy Bedlow
Sgt Rfc
19 Sqn
Estree-Blanche,
Flanders, France.

July 12, 1917.

1 Victory confirmed.

I managed to get back in time for the afternoon flight. The Sqn posted 10 a/c out of 22 assigned for a Balloon mission. I wondered why till we flew into a mess of Hun Scouts above the gas bag. At less 6 of the devils diving zooming and rolling. We claimed 2 e/a a double by A flight Leader. we lost 1 Spad. I saw the fight and jumped in with the rest for awhile I had some good shooting til he rolled ( had a whit mark on the side ) and came up on my tail then it was try and get rid of the sod. Finally, he let go as we crossed into the allied side.

Fullofit, just checked in and watched your video. That was a fair bit of flying my friend! Loved how you jumped in and kept your mate from stealing your kill. And the second one. Well, he never knew what hit him, and a roll on top. I will get caught up with everyone else soon. Keep,safe gents.

MFair, thank you for your praise. With this new Albatros it is not any easier to fight the enemy, but it is at least easier to fight off your own flight mates.

Fullofit, those scrambles are a love/hate relationship. Exciting but oh so dangerous!

EPower, your catching up quick! Seems your squad has had a rough time with so many losses. Hope you get revenge again on Voss. Something tells me he is still around.

Raine, happy to see Dieter’s wounds are healing and he is back in the fight. And a new machine to wreak havoc with!

Ace, Reggie is moving up fast. Promotion and new machine. Congratulations.

Carrick, Elf’s? Bongs! I sure am glad you got out of that hospital. They must have had the good stuff.

Badger is doing well at Hospital. His leg is healing well and the nurses are nice, if nothing to look at. He will be back on the 19th.

Mfair: The Hospital seems to be a dream surrounded by a purple Haze. Well , time for my pilot to Saddle Up.

I’ll excuse you while you kiss the sky!

MFair, I’m glad to see Badger is recovering well in the hospital, despite the ugly nurses. In a way it’s better that none of them has caught his eye. He’d be blind by now, but if he insists on eye candy, I suggest he talks to Carrick. He seems to have a monopoly on the lookers.

12 July, 1917 05:50 morning mission
Ghistelles, Flanders Sector
Jasta 17
Offizierstellvertreter Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2
11 confirmed kills

Both Pups from yesterday have been confirmed. Zygmunt was now a Kanone - an ace with 10 or more confirmed kills.
First to congratulate him was Jakob Wolff. Ziggy could tell the old man was jealous but also proud of his protégée.
“- Junge, now that you’re Kanone, you must paint your plane so everyone can tell who you are and keep out of your way. Have you decided yet what it will be?” Wolff put his arm on Hahn’s shoulder and squeezed it hard.
Ziggy winced from pain but didn’t complain. It was better than having another cigar being stuffed in his mouth.
“- Do you think I should paint it red?” Zygmunt was testing the older pilot.
“- Nein, nein! You’re not that good. And besides, it wouldn’t complement the colour of your eyes. Think harder.” Wolff squeezed Ziggy’s shoulder with full force.
The young man got the message. This was serious.
“- I could paint a big “H” on the side of the fuselage...”
“- Bah!” Wolff let go of Zygmunt’s shoulder with resignation. “- If that’s the best you can do ...” He started walking away.
“- What would you suggest?” Ziggy didn’t want to disappoint his friend.
Wolff paused for a moment. “- How fond are you of your family name?”
Zygmunt reflected for a moment. Kids at school used to tease him because of it. He still remembers the crow of a rooster sound they were making whenever he’d show up: “Kikeriki!” He shuddered.
Not anymore. He was among adults now. No one made fun of his surname. Now they had grownup names, much more rude.
That settled it. Ziggy would have his emblem.
But for now they had a mission to fly. It was balloon busting near Nieuport. The target was destroyed and no opposition was encountered. It seemed the men would have an easy day.

12 July, 1917 12:00 noon mission
Ghistelles, Flanders Sector
Jasta 17
Offizierstellvertreter Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2
11 confirmed kills

Their second mission of the day was to patrol enemy front lines between Diksmuide and the Channel Coast. Ziggy and the rest of Schwarm Zwei arrived over the patrol area and began their circuit. It didn’t take long before the Englanders arrived with the intention of scaring the Albatrosen away. The German pilots begged to differ and a furball ensued. Zygmunt sparred with one of the silver Nieuports and along with another Albatros chased it to the edge of the No-Man’s Land. The other pilot was Ltn Schuster. Ziggy recognized him by the white lightning on the fuselage. In the end the Britisher went down south of Nieuport. After returning to base Hahn was surprised to learn that Schuster placed a claim along his own for the downed Nieuport. It seems there is more than one way to poach a victory.

YouTube Link

MFair: LoL , I cant seem to put anything passed U.

Fullofit: Good Vid.

Fido Iggy Bedlow
Sgt Rfc
19 Sqn
Estree-Blanche,
Flanders, France.

July 13, 1917.

1 Victory confirmed.

Well, the Boche spanked us today. We were in a good fighting postion as Lt Penland led the 8 of us down on 2 Recon types around enemy held Roulers area. looking up I saw 6 e/a scouts coming down on us. In order to avoid getting the chop , I broke right climbed and engaged. Turn, dive then zoom. The Huns were all over us. I got off 52 rounds, saw a Spad explode , then had Huns on my tail. I tried a reversal to head back for our side and picked up 6 holes in the wing. along with 2 fighters close. I broke off combat by nosing over at 11,000ft and sped away No Hun could catch me. RTB The Sqn lost 2 Spads shot down + 1 crashed short of AF + 3 Lt Damaged. Claims 2 V strutts , Front haft was painted Blue..

Great stuff, everyone. I wish I could say something for each of you but my post would be ten times longer than I'd want.

Here's a quick update up to the 11th of July so that I can get back on track with him (Real life is being tough as always).



Loss and change
The diary of Flight-Lieutenant Reginald Capell, No. 9 Squadron, R.N.A.S

8 July
Rain through the night had many of expecting any chances of flying to be called-off, but were surprised to be stirred awake by the orderlies around 0445. We all were in decent shape considering our celebration for Boutiller. There was a very light drizzle, but the clouds were scattered enough for the sun to start peaking through. Visibility wasn't the best, but it certainly wasn't the worst. I was surprised to find Morley in the mess. I asked him if he was supposed to be back in Yorkshire by now, and he laughed, telling me a long tale about how he got held up in St. Pol. Many of the R.N.A.S chaps were being sent back to their units, hints of something big coming. He made his way back to Flez but found us gone. Luckily some of the 22 and 24 mechanics were still back there and told him that we were at Filescamp. He finally caught up with us late last night after most of the squadron had retired. He decided to stay in the mess and wait for us to wake up. His story was amusing, but it had us buzzing all the same. Leaves were on hold, people were coming back. Units were receiving Camels and we needed to be trained on them, but that wasn't the case for a full hold. Morley said up north was full of our troops building up. Something was coming and soon.

Around 0630, both A and B flights were told to head out: two-seaters were harassing the PBI near Lens. Mott led B-flight, along with Pinder, Redgate, Banbury, and myself. Morley was headed out with A-flight and was hollering from excitement that he had a Tripe now. We took off towards the North East in the drizzle and gained altitude under the clouds (an uncomfortable 5000 feet). I felt that I could reach up and grab a handful of the clouds at times. Once over the lines, we saw a few two-seaters that followed their routine of diving to the East in a hurry. Mott began rocking his wings with a fury, my stomach sinking as I fear he might lose a wing or all. He point to the South and eleven specks came to view. All Albatri. A-flight was within distance and joined us as we turned. No one could safely gain a height advantage. We charged head-on at 5000 feet, the world silent, and when in distance everyone opened up on both sides.

Everyone spiraled in their own direction, some with black smoke behind them, some alone, some with one or two of the enemy on them. I found one, mostly black, and did my best to follow him. He evaded as best he could as I popped shots into him (I'm starting to hate having one bloody Vickers to their two). He flipped over and dove down fast, in control, and disappeared. Then I noticed one on my tail. I hit hard rudder, twisted and turned, eventually losing him. Another came into my sights, this one on Pinder. I opened up, letting him get a long burst, and watched him smoke and dive. This one wasn't in control, and he headed straight behind enemy lines. Another to claim. I had no time for excitement, this time two were on me and I did my best to lose them. I could see the tracers go over my head, some hitting my wings, even felt my rudder begin to lose complete control. Mott and Banbury saved me, coming out of no where as they followed one each as the Albatri split into two directions. I tried to see the extent of my damage. The rudder was a bit finicky, but I had control. I went up to 5000 to evaluate what the situation was, and all I saw was everyone heading back to their lines. I didn't waste time and headed back to Filescamp.

The scene on the ground was one to remember: a couple of Tripes were smoking. Pierce, Mott, Banbury and Pinder were all shot up, holes about and their engines leaking. Boutillier had called in from behind the front, his Tripe written off completely, he with only a few cuts and scrapes. Redgate took a piece of his wing to hit cheek, asked if it was enough to go home. The Squadron Commander laughed and told him he might have to lose an appendage or two before consideration. All seemed to be good considering the odds, but we were missing one: Morley. Pierce and Mott were in HQ. I lit a smoke outside the door and eavesdropped. Pierce had seen him go. An Albatros had a grip on him and he had no match for it. He saw all three wings on the port side crumble, the Tripe spiraling out of control and crashing over lines. The Sqd. Cdr. phoned it in and received confirmation of it. Morley was KIA. Once they were done I headed in for my claim. I was told they'd check into it, and that my last claim from Flez was a wash: no confirmation. Tough luck, they say.

I headed back to my berth, washed up, and decided to just sit alone for a while. Morley was the squadron's first loss since I arrived. Other's said they were surprised that it took this long, but I didn't want to hear it. I looked through my chest and decided to read some Blake, something I hadn't done much of since arriving in France. I opened the book and turned to "The Lamb," and it felt more fitting than before:

Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee
Gave thee life & bid thee feed.
By the stream & o'er the mead;
Gave thee clothing of delight,
Softest clothing wooly bright;
Gave thee such a tender voice,
Making all the vales rejoice!
Little Lamb who made thee
Dost thou know who made thee

Little Lamb I'll tell thee,
Little Lamb I'll tell thee!
He is called by thy name,
For he calls himself a Lamb:
He is meek & he is mild,
He became a little child:
I a child & thou a lamb,
We are called by his name.
Little Lamb God bless thee.
Little Lamb God bless thee.

After dinner, the Sdn Cdr gave an announcement: we were moving out again. We were to move further North to Bray-Dunes in two days. We were to pack up tonight to load all of our personal belongings minus our intimate kit. I headed straight in and packed and called it a night.

9 July
The weather was awful, so much so that HQ decided to not risk a delay of flying on the 10th that our Tripes were loaded up with our belongings. We would be heading up after them the next morning. I spent the day writing to home, surprised I hadn't received a letter from then yet.

10 July
We left early, around 0200 and, thanks to crowded roads, miscommunication, and good military guidance, we didn't arrive until close to dinner. Bray-Dunes is even larger than Filescamp. I haven't had a chance to look around, but I know there are multiple units sharing this place. Maybe tomorrow I'll have a chance to scout out the area. A morning patrol is likely for me.

Fullofit, another nice merry go round. Great Vid.

Carrick, I still say your screen shots are the best.

Ace, that sounded like a real rodeo.

Thanks Carrick. Looks like the 13th wasn’t lucky for 19 Sqn. At least Fido didn’t end up back in hospital. Can’t complain about that.

Good stuff, Ace. I’m not gonna lie. I couldn’t make my post ten times longer even if I tried.

Thanks MFair! It's getting harder and harder to shoot anything down.

13 July, 1917 05:50
Ghistelles, Flanders Sector
Jasta 17
Offizierstellvertreter Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2
11 confirmed kills
Awaiting one claim confirmation



The enemy flight approached from Diksmuide. Schwarm Eins spotted them first and changed course to intercept. Hahn’s flight followed and entered a brutal melee. Ziggy latched on to one of the British machines and immediately noticed something different about them. They had two guns. These were the new kites the British were preparing. He could see now why they were named Camels. A prominent hump covered the gun breeches giving it its sobriquet. The battle was vicious and Zygmunt soon realized he’d better step back if he wanted to avoid a collision. Three other Albatrosen were jockeying for position to eliminate this new threat. Zygmunt left this battle and concentrated on finding a new target. There were many to choose from. He decided to engage the one that was chasing another Albatros. The Britisher was too preoccupied with his target to notice Ziggy slip behind. Hahn couldn’t tell if he’d hit his adversary when he fired. He was still trying to establish the best aiming point without leaning to the side to one of the gunsights, but at least he’d gained his adversary’s attention. The two German machines tag teamed and worked well together to chase the enemy across the No-Man’s Land, all the way down to treetop level. Zygmunt worried about ground fire, but they were well behind trenches and the risk was acceptable. The two Fliegers took turns firing at the Sopwith, but the enemy eventually went down after Ziggy’s broadside salvo.

YouTube Link



The two pilots separated on their way back, each trying to find their respective Schwarm. Zygmunt continued to gain altitude and scan the skies for more enemy machines returning across the lines. He quickly spotted one flying low on his port side. Hahn’s Albatros roared as it gained speed in a dive. He was closing on the unsuspecting Englander. He opened fire from to far of a distance and most likely missed again. He’d hit something on his second attempt and the Camel banked to avoid any further hits. Ziggy kept his plane behind and continued to fire. The enemy in front absorbed a lot of fire, but in the end the pilot had been hit and the entire machine nosed down and crashed below. Ziggy barely made the turn to point his plane east when he noticed another Camel fly by. It was even easier to catch up to this one and shoot it down. The Camel was engulfed in flames and immediately after exploded right in front of Ziggy’s eyes. Was it his imagination, or did he taste blood on his lips?

YouTube Link



Hahn was ready to go back home now. He was eager to claim 3 of these new machines and hear how other men of his unit fared against this new type of enemy plane. Zygmunt expected the enemy to proclaim this 13th day of July to be rather unlucky. Little did he know only two other Albatrosen from this morning’s mission were able to return to the base. All others had to put down in the field with various degrees of damage and wounds. The 13th July appeared to be devastating to both sides.

Fullofit – nice work on that pop on 11 July. I thought for a second you and the other Albatros were going to cleave unto each other. Ziggy is certainly having more good fortune with the claims guides than Vogel and I hope his three claims from 13 July go through. I love Ziggy's new livery.

Carrick – congratulations to Fido on his first victory!

AceMedic – good to see Capell in action! Congratulations on bagging three Huns already. Are you test driving Lou's Bray Dunes mod?


Tagebuch of Fw Hans-Dieter Vogel, EK2

Jasta 26, Iseghem (Izegem), Belgium

Part 14

10 July 1917.

After a day of wet weather and low cloud the sun breaks through and we are again preparing to fly. At noon we receive orders to attack a new enemy balloon in the vicinity of Neuve-Chapelle, by Bethune. Leutnant Loertzer will lead me, Dannhuber, and Blume. The boss plans to cross the lines farther north and approach the balloon from the west. Our machines are waiting and their engines are roaring as we arrive at the field in the Benz. After the storms the sky is wonderfully clear with only occasional clusters of cloud. Already it is a hot day.

The sweat that has been running down my back now chills as we climb ever higher to the northwest. Below a British barrage is turning over mud that has already been turned over a thousand times. Between the shell bursts lies a ghastly moonscape of water-filled craters and mere shadows of villages and woods. There are no signs of the million men who live there. All is wet and dung-coloured and dark. But here aloft we are a class apart, our machines clad in black-and-white striped livery like the chargers of mediaeval knights, the air we breathe piercing and avoid of toxic gas, the bullets we fire aimed – our deaths will be at the hands of a foe we see, not sudden annihilation from a shell fired many kilometres away.

The boss waggles his wings and begins to climb. I look up and there they are, bright flashes in the noon sun. Silver Nieuports, a mass of them! These are French machines. I have seen this same red-ringed cockade in paintings of the Revolution. The beginning of the fight is our crazy minute when machines flash before your eyes and you fire at one thing and then another. Now I see a Frenchman on the tail of an Albatros and dive on him. I hit him with my first burst. He spins downwards. I follow and hit him again. He turns beneath me and I turn behind him. I hit him again and he noses down until he smashes into a field a few kilometres south and west of our aerodrome at Rumbeke.

I am alone at 500 metres height. I see a lone all-black Albatros in the distance – Jasta 7. But here comes trouble. Three English triplanes are diving downward towards us. One heads for the black Albatros and the other two head for me. For several minutes I fight only to survive, edging ever closer to the field at Rumbeke where there will be machine guns on the ground. We circle and zoom and dive over the aerodrome. I get behind one of the Englishmen and fire. His wings shatter and flame erupts from his engine. The triplane falls short distance beyond the field. Now there is the matter of his friend. The remaining Englishman is a good pilot and the Sopwith is a good aeroplane. Several times he catches me in a turn and bullet smash into my Albatros. Then he makes a mistake. I have managed a climbing turn and can fall onto his tail. The Spandaus speak and the triplane falls. I turn over the aerodrome and search the sky. I am alone. There is no sign of the black Albatros. Three black columns of smoke rise slowly into the air south of the field. These are certainly victories number 10, 11, and 12.


"Three black columns of smoke rise slowly into the air south of the field."

...
“Rejected?” I stammer. “Herr Leutnant, they can’t be serious.”

Leutnant Loertzer nods his head gravely. “I have been arguing with Fourth Army as much as I dare. The ground gunners at Rumbeke claimed the two Sopwiths and Jasta 7 has claimed the Nieuport. Already General Hoeppner is on his way to congratulate them. There is no way to undo this mess.”

I respond with undignified descriptions of mental inferiority and low birth among the staff. The boss does little to discourage me. And then he asks a question I do not anticipate. “Can you get your kit together and be prepared to occupy your new billet before dinner tonight?”

“Sir, I hope that I may at least move into the same house as Feldwebel Steinmesser. Is that at least possible?”

The boss shakes his head. “No, it is not. The good Feldwebel cannot be accommodated in this main building, Offizierstellvertreter Vogel.” He stood and shook my hand. “Now get your crap together and move in. Leutnant Goering’s old room has been held vacant. You may have to share it when we get a replacement pilot but it is probably the best room on the upper floor. Get yourself sorted before supper. I will send an orderly to prepare your uniform so that you can be dressed properly at dinner.”

He did not lie. The room was at least half again as big as any of the other rooms I have seen, including “Pastor” Loertzer’s room. It has a cast iron coal burning fireplace and a washstand with running water. The bride window opens onto the back garden and has heavy shutters to block out the summer heat during afternoon naps. I am not yet a true officer but will be treated like one in the Kasino. Already I have forgotten the three columns of smoke at Rumbeke.

11 July 1917.

We are sent back to get the balloon we did not see yesterday. This time I am the leader, with Blume, the Pastor, and Leutnant Dahm – newly transferred in. I plan to cross the lines a little farther south towards Armentieres. The sparkling blue sky is partly broken by great billowing clouds. Our four shadows play against the white walls of the sky canyons like a magic lantern show. The lines pass beneath and I strain to see the first glimpse of the enemy’s balloon line. Bloom is the first to see them – eight brown biplanes tumbling on us from high overhead. The wings are distinctive, the upper plane straight and the lower plane with a sharp dihedral. Once again we have found the new Camels. It is eight against four and we are fighting for our lives. I fire a quick burst at a turning Englishmen but two more are already moving in behind. I remembered to turn to the left because none of our machines can turn inside a Camel to the right. For many minutes I turn from one English machine to the other as we fall lower and lower toward the mud below. Then at last I make a climbing turn and get a chance to fire. It is not a good shot. I simply point my machine in the general direction of the little brown scout and press the trigger. But it is enough that the Englishman is done for the day and breaks away. Now I turn and desperately search for his partner. There he is, above me and turning into a dive. We pass head-on, both firing. I climb a little each time we pass, and then I turn in a dive. After several rushes at each other, the English machine breaks away. Is he damaged? I suspect he is for I am catching him quickly. I close to within twenty metres and fire. The Camel falls into a spin and crashes into the mud of no man’s land.


"The Camel falls into a spin and crashes..."

I climb to the east again. The field at Halluin can be seen in the distance and I had in that direction. But something is approaching to my left and below. It is another Camel, low over the torn ground. I come about and dive on the lone Englishman who does not see me until it is too late. My first burst causes him to throw back his head and fall forward over his controls. The enemy machine tumbles to the ground.


"My first burst causes him to throw back his head and fall forward over his controls."

Now it is time for home and safety. But still there is one more Camel and its pilot means to end my day. He dives on me and I climb to meet him. Once again I struggle with the nimble English machine. One must trade height for manoeuvrability and the fight comes to treetop level near our own trenches. But then I catch him in a climb. He has lost sight of me and I am beneath him. My bullet smashed into his machine. The Sopwith turns west but I am on its tail and firing. The little scout is shattered. Its planes and struts fly past my Albatros.


"The little scout is shattered."

Three Camels in ten minutes! I race to Iseghem to make my claim. Incredibly, none of my machines are reported to Fourth Army. I have destroyed six enemies in two days for no credit at all. But I am a deputy gentleman now and must hide my anger.

Well done everyone. the screen shots are great as well as the stories.

Raine - Six unconfirmed in two days?! Oh that's just mean. Nice work by Dieter even if Fourth Army thinks otherwise. Looks like the Tommies aren't quite used to their new camels yet.

Carrick - Tough return from hospital. Maybe Fido should "relapse" temporarily and get some addition PT from Nurse Gina

AceMedic - Excellent catch up. Quite the fight there. Congrats on the kill. Bummer about poor Morely.

Fullofit - Mass carnage seems the order of the day for everyone. Congrats on the hat trick!

Seems the fickle finger of fate is at work again, denying Vogle his just deserts!