I tell ya what, I don't participate here, but the stories and pics/videos here are always very enjoyable

MFair, the bomb that made that crater must have blown the extra wings off those aeroplanes!

Fullofit, I am starting to despair of ever catching up with Ziggy. Terrific work getting to 64.

Lou, I am very jealous of Freddie's AC. Wouldn't it be lovely to take one of those around the English countryside?

Carrick, good luck with your impending move…

KK, good to see you dropping by.

I'm rushing to catch up. Here is the latest instalment from Vogel.


Tagebuch of Oblt. der Res. Hans-Dieter Vogel, PLM. HHO, EK1, EK2, Hanseatic Cross

Jasta 12, Roucourt, France

Part 43

9 October 1917

Although the weather scarcely improves, we are on standby from five in the morning. From the north comes a terrible thunder of guns. It seems impossible to believe that the enemy is still pushing forward around Ypres, yet such are the reports. The ground mist lifts about 8:30 AM and we are ordered over the lines. Our job is to patrol from Lens south to Bapaume. I am happy to stay far away from Ypres this morning. The cloud is low and over Ypres we should be forced to fly between the thousands of shells in the air.

We are on our fourth circuit when we see the enemy. Eight brown Sopwith Camels head directly towards us. We are outnumbered but have no choice. In the first pass, a Sopwith flies past me on either side, each missing a head-on collision by less than a metre. From there the fight begins. I dare not simply turn with these machines. They spin about like a child’s top and can be on your tail in a flash. The secret is to keep up your speed and climb gently every time they dash past you. Only when you are above them can you turn before they are on you. This game you must keep up until one of the enemy pilots makes a mistake.

After several minutes, one of my two friends makes his mistake. The Englishman changes the direction of his turn and dives below me. I roll my Albatros onto its back and dive at him with throttle fully open. My burst seems to cause some damage. I cannot stay with that Camel. He has a friend somewhere. The brown colouring of the Sopwiths blends with the murky sky and clouds. I search for the missing Englishman and find him only by the sound of his machine guns as he dives past me. Once again we trade head to head passes and I play my little game of climb and turn. The wind is carrying us deeper into German territory. I bide my time and then, as I expected, my opponent tries to dive away. He must be low on fuel. My Albatros is slightly quicker than his machine and I close on him in a dive. My first burst finds its mark. Tracer smoke curves gently down and seems to vanish into the substance of the enemy machine, falling all about its cockpit. The pilot falls forward and the Sopwith noses down, eventually falling into our lines west of Riencourt.

The victory is confirmed later that morning, number 48.


"The pilot falls forward and the Sopwith noses down..."


10 October 1917

A fine morning at last! The phone rings shortly after seven-thirty and we take off bound for Canvin, near Lens. Heavy enemy activity is reported. There are four of us: Ewers, Neckel, Becker, and me. We arrive to find to of our observation machines and four or five Albatrosen from another Jasta all swirling about northwest of Canvin, fighting a greater number of English Nieuports. Like the cavalry in a Western motion picture we rush to the rescue. Our opponents are skilled and for several minutes the fight is uncomfortable. Then, as always seems to happen, the melee spreads out over the countryside and I find myself alone with a single Nieuport. The Englishman tries every trick he knows, turning, zooming, diving, rolling, but I stay with him. In the end I catch him coming out of a dive and looking in the wrong direction. My machine guns speak and he falls into a spin from which he does not emerge.

I find myself close to the lines west of Haubourdin. I climb eastward and search for some friends to continue our patrol. Over Phalempin, anti-aircraft bursts alert me to more enemy activity. I search the sky in vain before seeing a single white Nieuport flying low near the aerodrome there. He is stalking a damaged Albatros that is preparing to land. My engine roars as I fall on the unsuspecting Englishman. I pull up less than one hundred metres above the ground and quickly close up to the Nieuport. Only then do I fire. The Nieuport staggers away and I see its propeller begin to slow. A stream of white vapour trails behind the stricken aeroplane. I watch as the pilot levels out to land in a nearby field. He skims a line of trees and settles into the furrowed farmland. Just when it seems that he is safe, his machine takes a bounce and lands nose-down. I circle about and watch as the pilot emerges from the shattered aircraft, seemingly unhurt. A group of soldiers run from the road at the far side of the field toward the crash site. The British pilot looks up and waves. I give him a salute and waggle my wings. The soldiers have their rifles levelled and I hope they are not trigger-happy. I am only a minute or two from the aerodrome at Phalempin. I throttle back and turn to land there.


"My engine roars as I fall on the unsuspecting Englishman."

I am met within a couple of minutes of landing by the Staffelfuehrer of Jasta 30, Hans Bethge. I did not know Oberleutnant Bethge before but find him to be a splendid fellow. Like myself, he is a Berliner by birth but has lived away from the city for much of his life. He wears the Hohenzollern House Order proudly, which likely signifies about twenty victories in the air. He immediately invites me to his squadron mess for breakfast, but I am bubbling over with excitement and want to go and retrieve my Englishman. Bethge thinks that this is wonderful sport and we dash over to his squadron office to retrieve his Benz car. A clerk is pressed into service as a chauffeur and Bethge grabs a carton of cigarettes, three glasses, and a bottle of cognac as we leave.

A column of smoke leads us quickly to the field where I find the Nieuport already reduced to bits of metal and ash. I enquire about the pilot and a disinterested NCO points in the direction of the road. Becker sends his driver running to ensure that the Englishman is not driven off before we meet him. Back at the road we encounter an officious sergeant of the Fellgendarmerie. He protests that he lacks the authority to turn over a prisoner to us. I insist that this prisoner has highly specialised information and must be interrogated by the Luftstreitkraefte immediately if the value of that information is not to be compromised. I ask the sergeant whether he wishes to be reported as obstructing such an important intelligence operation.

And that’s how I meet Lieutenant Stephen Allwood of the Royal Flying Corps. He has emerged from the wreckage of his machine with nothing more than a badly bruised knee. I ask him how he has been treated by the soldiers and he tells me that they were very upset that he set fire to his machine but were mollified when he lit a cigarette and handed out the rest of the contents of his cigarette case. The military police sergeant arrived too late to get a cigarette so helped himself to the fine silver case.

We return to Phalempin and enjoy coffee and bread and jam. Having drunk several toasts in cognac in the car, this is most welcome. We make telephone calls and arrange for Allwood to remain in care of Jasta 12 until the next morning. I invite Bethge to dinner and he agrees. Bethge undertakes to guard Allwood and have him driven to Roucourt by five o’clock in the afternoon. With that I head over to the field where my Albatros has been refuelled and rearmed.

There is one more flight this day. Around three-thirty in the afternoon we fly south toward Bapaume and attack an enemy balloon. I lead the attack and fire more than one hundred rounds, seeing smoke begin to rise from the Himmelwurst. It explodes into flame just after I break off and I am certain I have credit for this kill. But when we return to Roucourt, I learn that Joerke and Ewers were already firing at the balloon. I appoint Mueller to arbitrate. He reviews our reports and asks detailed questions and then awards the victory to Joerke.

As if in compensation, I learn that both Nieuports from this morning have been confirmed. These two victories in the air bring my total at last to fifty!

That evening’s celebration is a memorable night. Steinmesser has produced a case of exquisite champagne – Pol Roger 1895. I look at him across the table and point a finger downwards toward the basement of our château. Steinmesser gives a half-smile and shrugs his shoulders. Allwood proves to be an amiable companion. He proposes a toast – I translate for the others – to the German air service. And when we sing the national anthem, he joins in. I note, however, that he is singing something about “German, German overalls.” The kitchen has produced some credible breaded pork cutlets with red cabbage cooked with apples and chestnuts, and roast potato. After dinner we discover that Allwood has a fine touch on the piano. He plays a number of ragtime tunes and regales us with a fine tenor rendition of “If You Were the Only Girl in the World.” Bethge asks whether the party atmosphere is a common thing at Jasta 12. I ask the boys to answer him and Feldwebel Falke tells him that we only party when we win but that we win a lot. Immer suggests that we invite the Oberleutnant to our next shooting party, “if he can hold his liquor.” Poor Bethge does not know what to make of all this.

It seems too cruel to realise that tomorrow Allwood will be marched into real captivity. We sit up until midnight and reminisce about London. I confess that I should be very happy to settle in England one day, but the war has probably made that impossible. Allwood suggests that I consider Canada, something I have never contemplated. Finally it is time to show him to his room on the third floor. We lock him in after taking his shirt, tunic, flying boots, and trousers. It turns out that Allwood and I wear the same shoe size. We trade – he acquires a pair of comfortable brown shoes and I acquire a pair of dashing, sheepskin-lined thigh boots, fresh from Harrods.

Raine, couple shots from you there that just seem real, too. Amazing. Gorgeous.

I must state for the record that listening to Matt Milne's epic WOFF Menu Music album makes writing so much easier and atmospheric. I found it yesterday, languishing in GrooveMusic. The WOTR one is available through Apple music but I prefer the WOFF soundtrack.

MFair - Immer's one of the cool kids now. Glad the shoot went off without incident. That Schobinger fellow firing over the shoulder on the other hand is definitely needing a talking to. That claims officer too. What's going on up there?
Mein Gott! Eindeckern! Was ist los?

Carrick - Road food is good food in the great War as well. Nice find. Who knew changing Aerodromes could be such an ordeal. BTW, when did Marcel time travel back into September? Did I miss something?
Congrats on the promotion to Section leader. Bon Chance avec le Claim. Excellent pic of what will be known 50 years hence as low lag pursuit. 1 vs 3 on Oct 12th (Hey you're back in October) looking rather precarious. Glad it worked out and Marcel is still in la Guerre.

Fullofit - Well done nailing those Nieups. Whatever your E management may or may not be, you've a great knack for judging rate of closure and maintaining time on target, or Krumpet in this case. Oliver and Ziggy fought in that same brilliant blue sky on the 10th. Amazing atmosphere. Some nice long range potting there too. Is it me or did Nadette know the sun would illuminate her in that way? Curly's Law.

Lou - What a nice ride Freddy has waiting for him at Biddendon. Is the AC-10 the only one? I bet you wish we still had the Model-T now that you have that smoking new rig. I wonder if there's a Freddy v Aunt Rhea drag race in our future.

Raine - I very much enjoyed your rainy day tale of 'The Shooting Party' although I fear the experience aged poor Meuller. Its effect on Mitzi remains hidden in the darkness of the future. The Shooting Party is one of my favorite movies. It was James Mason's last hurrah, and a delightful, tightly written Edwardian romp. Gielgud as the animal rights activist is magnificent (as always)and occasionally hilarious. James Mason went out with one of his best performances. That's the pic I linked. No doubt I would appreciate it more now than I did 35 years ago. Alas, not available on any current streaming service. Rereading the story, it occurs that my initial response might have come across as a bit flippant. If so, that was in no way my intention. 50! Hals und Beinbruch! Vogel was a most affable host to poor Allwood. "When you fall. We will give you a sendoff when you fall!" Nice trade. Those English Fug boots are quite the score.

Raine, You now have your very own Englishman!
Gents, I hope the campaign gods do not mind but I am 2 days ahead. I will be out of touch for a week so wanted to get this down. My next episode will be "Immer visits Home"

Ltn. Ivan Immer EKII
Jasta 12, Roucourt
Sept. 14, 1917
Immer had had a few close calls the last few days but his spirits were good. Vogel was right. The hunt was a good escape. He had returned to the skies without the awful dread he was experiencing. As his patrol ended and they approached Roucourt, all the machines peeled off for landing. As Immer started to enter the circle he noticed two silver machines below to the north. Nieuports!! He hit full throttled and dove. One climbed to meet him as the other bore down on the landing flight. Immer matched every move the Nieuport made and was soon behind it pouring round after round into it. It nosed over and crashed near the airfield.


Climbing up and looking around he saw the other trying to make his escape. Again Immer dove and was soon on its tail west of Roucourt. It met the same fate as his partner. Immer was beside himself. He had not had a confirmed kill in weeks. As he came in for a landing he could still see the smoking wreck south of the field. "They will have a hard time refusing that one." He thought as he came to a stop. His friend Schobinger was there. "Magnificent Der Wolfe! Wonderful flying my friend. Lets go examine the crash!" Immer climbed from his machine. When Schobinger asked about going to see the machine again, Immer turned and snapped, "Ive seen enough dead in this war. If you want to examine the corpse, be my guest!" at that he went to file his report.


At night at Kasino, it was announced that both Nieuports had been confirmed. Immer now had 20 kills. It was a joyous night with much drinking and music. Schobinger found Immer and apologized for any insult Immer thought he had made. Immer smiled. "It was nothing my friend. After a year in the trenches you get used to death. You live with them, sleep with them......." Immer continued, "Lets just say I have seen enough dead bodies for a life time eh!

Oct.15, 1917
The flight takes off at 8am to defend a balloon near Lens. As Immer leaves the ground he scans the skies for any enemy that like to ambush them. Nothing. As he turns south and starts to climb tracers hiss by his machine. He pulls up as a Triplane goes by. The next few seconds are confusion. Archie, machines and tracers fill the air! Immer finds himself on the tail of one and fires, hitting the Triplane good. Checking his tail he returns his attention to the Tripe. He closes and fires a long burst which causes the Triplanes upper wings to fold and it spins down near Cantin. It was all over and the flight returned. All but the new pilot Immer had been protecting for the past few weeks. It seems Eckoff didnt have a chance. He was gone.


The afternoon patrol was up again after a quick lunch. Over Bersee Immer spotted 2 Camels up high and started to climb. One came down to play. The Camel pilot overshot his dive and Immer was on him in a heartbeat pouring lead into him. Just before colliding he pull up and felt a jolt. He and Becker had collided! It seems their wings had just touched as Immer could not see any damage and had control of his machine. The close call had hit him hard and he started shaking. "Cut power, get her on the ground!" He thought. He landed at Bersee shaking like a leaf!

Vogel was received a call from the adjutant at Bersee. "Sir, we have one of your pilots here. A Ltn. Immer. He his fine. He had a mid air collision and we have inspected his machine. The mechanics say it is flyable but the Ltn. is pretty shook up Sir and he refuses to fly." A short while later Vogel was at Bersee to pick up Immer. Schobinger was with him to fly the Albatros back to Roucourt. Immer did not say a word as he joined Vogel. Vogel finally broke the silence. "You need a rest Immer." Immer did not look at him but replied, "I'll be alright Sir! I just need a nights sleep." As the Lorry pulled up to Roucourt, Vogel said, "My office Ltn." Immer followed him to his office and Vogel sat down behind his desk pulling some papers from the drawer. "You have five days leave Ltn. I suggest you go home and see your family." Immer started to protest but Vogel held up his hand. "This is not a request Immer, It is an order." Vogel smiled. "We can't have Germany's newest hero out of sorts can we?" Immer weakly smiled back. Vogel continued. "Take this" he said as he handed Immer his Luger. "Berlin can be a bit nasty now days. Also, Stienmesser has a special bag for you. Staples are hard to come by in Berlin now, I'm sure your family can use them eh?"
"Yes Sir" Replied Immer.
to be continued.

À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 34 of many



5 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

10.00 Escort 2 DH-4 from RFC-25 on reccy of lines between Ledegen and Menin. Maxwell, Johnson, Turnbull, Jeffs in addition to Preston-Cobb flying his first combat patrol

Turning North from Menin we ran into a pack of Albatri. Got onto one and put half a drum into him. The Alb staggered and began a slow, wide turn to starboard. Closing in to finish him I noticed his comrade behind me.



Breaking off I fought this new Hun. When I gained the advantage, he spun down through the clouds to 2000 feet, then flattened out. Fired again from 60 yards. The Vickers jammed but it was enough. The Hun fell 100 yards from his aerodrome at Menin.



Circling, I watched him fall and finally managed to clear the stoppage. The silver outline of a Pfalz also went slowly round the aerodrome.


I felt a twinge of remorse, but it soon passed.

Leaving the smoking wreck of the Pfalz just east of the Menin-Roulers road, I formed with Turnbull and we made our way back over the lines. Intercepted another Pfalz low and running East.


The second Pfalz shed its wings after a mere 20 rounds.

Couldn’t find Turnbull. Circled and climbed looking for the rest of A Flight but without success. Returned alone to Estrée-Blanche.

Turnbull, Johnson and Maxwell landed just ahead of me. Jeffs and Preston-Cobb did not return. I’d seen Jeffs chasing off east after a V-Strutter as did Maxwell but neither of us saw him after that. Preston-Cobb telephoned from Caëstre. He’d been shot about severely and made a forced landing in a field but was otherwise unharmed from his first brush with the Hun. Grandpa spent much of the afternoon on the telephone hunting news of Jeffs. Nothing.

Rain washed out the late afternoon patrol. Wing rejected the all-black Albatros and the second Pfalz, confirming only the Silver Pfalz with the damaged wing. Seventy-three.



6 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

I woke to Harris’ quiet voice and the staccato of raindrops on the tent roof.
“Morning patrol cancelled, sir,” he said.

Lazy morning. Major Baring returned today, sans monocle, but bringing with him the famous painter William Orpen. Hoidge and Arthur are to sit for portraits next week. Major Blomfield had one of his “ideas,” that Major Baring, as the ADC to Boom, should “officially” open the new circular saw. The entire squadron, officers and men, assembled after lunch whereupon Major Baring made an excellent speech, then after smoking half a cigar proceeded to cut it in two. The recovered butt end was placed in a glass box prepared for the occasion and now hangs in the mess. Next came the first firewood log, and after that Major Baring really got going. He removed his cap and cut this in halves as well. Not content he began to remove his tunic for the same purpose before we carried him away to the sound of thunderous cheering.



The afternoon and evening were Ping Pong and a great deal of singing. Having little talent for the game I stuck with singing. I’ve barely had a call for Cinquante-Quatre in the last month. “Hello my Dearie” and “Where the Black-Eyed Susans Grow,” are the current rage with the Squadron. Orpen got the best of Mac in two games of Ping Pong much to everyone’s amusement. It was a thoroughly enjoyable day.



7 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

Rain again this morning.

Five new men arrived during this past week, three of whom will join me in A Flight. Dodds arrived yesterday, Harmon three days ago. Preston-Cobb is a grizzled veteran by comparison with a combat patrol and 7 days of experience to his credit.

Clearing this afternoon. I led my three fledglings plus Cunningham and Shone on a practice patrol behind the lines. The latter two arrived 3 and 5 days ago respectively. Bloody children’s crusade again.

Two letters from 54 Squadron each bearing splendid news. One from Goodbehere formally thanking me for my gift of Cinquante-Quatre. Having survived into October he proudly made good his claim on my spare copy and inscribed his name on the title page. I still don’t believe he’s 4 years my elder. The other was from Stewart. The Maids of France are safe for now as the incorrigible rascal has orders to Home Establishment after nine months of frontline service. Tremendous. Stewpot made it. 54 Squadron still fly Pups against DVs and these new Triplanes. Madness!



8 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

10.00 Line Patrol between Arras and points 8 miles Southeast. A less experienced A Flight this morning. Two newer men, Wilkinson and Preston-Cobb joined veterans Maxwell, Turnbull, Johnson. Preston-Cobb to his credit was none the worse after being roughly handled three days ago. Wilkinson was on his second stint with the squadron having returned mid-August. Originally posted to 56 Sqn on April 20, he flew a month before being wounded at the end of May.

Vile, rainy weather until we passed through the cloud layer at 8000 ft, then clear skies. Reached the lines at 15,000 feet and for the next ninety minutes saw no enemy aeroplanes. Made a low sweep under the cloud layer but found nothing. Visibility limited. Our patrol time elapsed, set course for Estrée-Blanche. Archie Puffs under the clouds north of Bapaume! The varnished orange plywood of the Alb stood out against the mud.


Candy Cane Albatros! This lot nearly killed me back in July.


I was flying a Pup then. They were like cats toying with mice then losing interest.


Today was different. On the Bapaume-Arras Road his life and strength left him.

Conditions unflyable for the remainder of the day. Worked the bag to flame off the excess energy. After such an intense bout of combat flying in August and September this enforced idleness grows tedious. Practiced Rugby football passing with two of “The Children” (Arthur and Muspratt.) Learned more about the rules. I hope to play in a match soon now that my wounds are fully healed. Have started running in preparation.

No further news about Jeffs today. My claim on the Candy Cane Hun still pending.



9 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

12.00 Escort 2 DH4s from RNAS-5 on reccy of enemy lines. Diksmuide to the Veurne-Jabbeke Road. Same group as yesterday, Maxwell, Turnbull, Johnson, Wilkinson and Preston-Cobb.

Rainy at lower altitudes but cleared once we got above 10,500 feet. Reached the lines at 13,000 feet.


They were just sitting there, 1000 feet below.

Sideslipping down to control my speed I still got too fast. I landed a short burst then went high.


I got lucky and hit something vital on the first pass. My second pass sent him down out of control.

Climbing west with Turnbull we spotted another Albatros making his way east toward Zerkegem.


After a sharp go round I got a short burst into his engine. The Albatros coughed up a cloud of smoke then the propeller stopped. He may have been wounded since he made no effort to avoid the trees. The Albatros cartwheeled, eventually landing upside down but didn’t explode. I thought I saw movement but couldn’t be sure. Low and 8 miles over I’d no intention of investigating further. We made haste for the lines. Returned to patrol altitude but found no sign of the DH4s or A Flight.

High winds and renewed downpour scotched the evening patrol. The Wing dispatch rider was late again. Poor devil got stuck in the mire. He brought mixed news.

The Bad: A Flight, in support of tomorrow’s attack on Poelcappelle, would conduct a deep offensive patrol. Most worrisome given that half our flight had no real experience of air fighting.

The good: Yesterday’s Candy Cane DV and the two Albatri from this afternoon all confirmed. Seventy-six.

EPower, 76! It takes more than luck to achieve that. Congratulations Sir!

MFair - Our posts crossed in cyberspace. You've taken to pic posting with the enthusiasm of a new convert. Well done! Sorry to hear about poor Eckoff. The new ones aren't lasting long on either side of the lines. Ack. Collision again! Maybe this rest will do Immer some good. Can't have him fearful and hesitant in the air. He'll be right as rain after some time at home.

p.s. H&B on 20. Some Blue around Immer's neck is in the future I think.

Raine, I have a feeling it may be difficult to catch up to Hahn, unless he ends up in a hospital, or worse. But reaching 50 isn’t something to sneeze at either. Congrats on reaching that half a century mark.
Now, Allwood is going to have some warm memories while in captivity. He should be introduced to boiled cabbage diet as soon as possible. And starch, lots of starch.

MFair, nice work on the two Nieups, they always are tough customers but Immer had no problems with them. Congrats on a round number. Twenty confirmed victories. There should be another celebration following Vogel’s 50. Enjoy your time off. I know you’ll be itching to get back.

Epower, thanks for that favourable assessment. I don’t know what you mean, I’m sure, about maintaining time on target. It was target fixation, pure and simple. And did she know about the naughty illumination? Only the woman could answer that.
So, Oliver is terrorizing the skies above Menen. I’m surprised Ziggy hasn’t met any S.E. 5’s recently. Maybe that’s for the best. Then, it looks like the rainy spell had saved numerous German pilots’ lives from Winninstad’s guns. He is quickly approaching that magical number. Any bets when Oliver’s going to hit a 100?
I didn’t realize that Major Baring was such a circular saw enthusiast.

13 October, 1917 08:45
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM AO
66 confirmed kills

Only one Camel was confirmed as Zygmunt’s. The other one went to the Flak batteries that were so ineptly peppering the sky.
Jasta 36 was on their way to Houplin aerodrome to protect the observation balloon stationed nearby. Near their first waypoint close to Menen they were met by a flight of English Dreideckers. They attacked individually. Zygmunt fired on the first one to arrive as he was passing him and left him for his wingmen behind. He already was aiming at the next one in line. He fired, but missed. Hahn decided he would engage him and turned around to follow. He kept after him until he caught the Tripe at the top of his loop and sent a series of volleys into the fuselage. He then continued to follow the Britisher and fired again when the enemy attempted to climb. He almost felt sorry for the enemy pilot whose luck was definitively not on his side. Every time he tried to escape by climbing away, Ziggy would be there firing. He noticed the Triplane had a white 9 painted on the side of the fuselage and the wheel spats were painted red. The English pilot finally took the hint and began to dive instead of climbing. It helped for a while, when Zygmunt momentarily lost him in the ground clutter, but quickly required him and continued his hunt. Another Albatros also decided to get a piece of the Sopwith, but had not much luck engaging the enemy. The Britisher made another escape attempt by climbing out of reach, but Ziggy was all over him and sent another well aimed burst into the cockpit. The Triplane corkscrewed down and crashed into the bridge below, collapsing it in the process. As Hahn watched this unexpected destruction, another Tripe came into view. Zygmunt followed and continued to fire, first blowing off the tip of the middle starboard plane, then the rest of the wing. This second machine spun violently to the ground and left a gaping crater near some trees. The fight was over and the battle-weary Albatrosen returned quickly home.

YouTube Link

Fullofit - 'Time on Krumpet' as in being able to saddle up and sit behind the foe whilst pouring 2 Spandaus malice into said opponent. Contrast that with Oliver either blowing past or throttling down too much and letting the gap open. Congrats on the two Triplanes. Happy thoughts for the confirmation.

Epower, thanks! I'm keeping my fingers crossed for those two. They did go down rather nicely. I thought you meant Nadette when you said Krumpet. Apologies, but you do understand my confusion.

You'll need some time on target with her too. We'll discuss 'saddling up' at a late date, should it come to that.

Marcel Jules Gilbare
Adjutant
ESC. 15 GC 13
Peirrefonds, Marne
1 Victory
6 Unconfirmed

Oct 13, 1917.

Still no Orders. Posted to Escort 3 bombers to pound troops on the line. No aerial contact.,

Those unconfirms are piling up, carrick! Reminds me of one of my careers! Plane looks nice, though!

14 October, 1917 08:50
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM AO
68 confirmed kills

Both Tripes have been confirmed.
Zygmunt’s Jasta was assigned to patrol over Kruishoutem aerodrome near Waregem. As they were sitting in their machines on the start line, a flight of Bristol aeroplanes overflew the airfield at low altitude. Thankfully they haven’t dropped any bombs. Could they be coming back empty from a bombing run earlier? Zygmunt was first off the line and watched as two Englanders turned back to attack. One of them lost control, or was hit by Flak and quickly crashed at the edge of the airfield. The second one was now being pursued by Hahn after two circuits of chasing tail. A barrage of Spandau later, the Brisfit nosed over and crashed in the adjacent corner of the airfield to where the first two-seater had been shot down.
Zygmunt was now searching for the reminder of the bombers and soon found them mixing it up with the rest of his Schwarm over the aerodrome. Ziggy quickly engaged one of them that appeared to be preoccupied with one of the Albatrosen. It made Hahn’s job that much easier and soon the Bristol was on its last legs. The gunner was unresponsive, probably nursing a mortal wound. In his final desperate move the British pilot attempted to ram Ziggy when he flew beside the crippled machine. The maneuver didn’t work and the bomber keeled over and smashed headlong into the ground right between where his other two compatriots have crashed earlier.
There was no time to sit on his laurels. Yet another Brisfit crossed his gunsights. This one realized what was about to happen and initiated his withdrawal. Higher and higher he went. Too far to be caught. Zygmunt watched as his prey was getting away and then a burst of Flak engulfed the Britisher. Direct hit! His machine lost control and began to dive. The pilot regained control, but it was too late. The Albatrosen were all over him like a pack of wolves. He was soon being perforated by the German machine gun fire. Hahn wondered why the gunner wasn’t firing at him. He had plenty of opportunities. Was he injured? No! As the gunner opened fire Zygmunt realized he was fixated on von Bülow who was flying behind him. Lower and lower the Brisfit went, just above the treetops. Ziggy came around for another firing pass. He opened fire just as the bomber hit the ground and turned over. The rest of the English raiding party had left the area. Zygmunt gave the signal to land. There would be no patrolling over Kruishoutem today.

YouTube Link

Mr Rawlings: Just a Stock Esc a/c. I was going skin it ,but just a lot of work.

Fullofit: Ziggy corning the market oh Kills.

Marcel Jules Gilbare
Adjutant
ESC. 15 GC 13
Peirrefonds, Marne
1 Victory
6 Unconfirmed


The Post caught up with us at last. In a letter, my sister she took a job in Zee city to help with the War effort., But will keep up her school studies.

https://giphy.com/gifs/toby-wing-movies-1930s-qyXqG6itWzLCTdqnge/fullscreen

15.Oct 1917
Jasta 23b, Jametz airfield, Verdun


uhhh... been meaning to write something but never get around to it.
Suffice to say that Willi was given the clear by the MO....which meant that he was being forced back into active flying on the front.
This meant a transfer to Jasta 23b and a promotion to Hauptmann.

Must say it's nice to see colourful skins again

15 October, 1917 07:45 morning mission
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM AO
71 confirmed kills

Zygmunt was happy - all three Brisfits have been confirmed.
Patrol over friendly aerodrome at St-Maria-Aalter was the order of the day. They were well on their way to their first waypoint when they noticed 3 dots engulfed in Flak. A flight of Albatrosen was on an intercept course and Ziggy thought that for once someone else will do their job for them, but as the 3 dots turned, the flight above didn’t budge, as if they never noticed them.
“- Well if you want it done right, you’ve got to do it yourself.” Zygmunt adjusted his mount’s course to intercept the 3 dots. He could see one of them peel off and turn towards the Schwarm. Hahn watched him fly by and let his wingmen take care of him. He concentrated on the two ahead. He could see another one of them approaching, he aimed ahead of his flightpath and squeezed the trigger. At the same time the Camel pilot dropped down as if he was reading Ziggy’s mind and spoiled his aim. They’ve entered the vicious circle already composed of the first Camel and members of his Schwarm. After some time Zygmunt had one of the Camels in front of him and nearly out of commission but the Britisher’s wingman came to the rescue and began to fire on Ziggy. Zygmunt had to abandon his victim and begin to evade. He quickly got rid off his tail the pursuer and reacquired his original target, which in the meantime was able to gain some altitude. It only took a few more seconds to bring the damaged Sopwith down. Ziggy could now concentrate on his wingman, but seeing his mate’s demise, the other Camel reconsidered further engagement and skillfully retreated across the lines. He had height advantage and Zygmunt saw no point chasing the Englander over the trench lines. He gathered his pilots and returned to Ceurne.

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15 October, 1917 15:10 afternoon mission
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM AO
71 confirmed kills
Awaiting one claim confirmation

Scramble! The formation was still high when the German machines were off the ground and climbing. Zygmunt noticed one diving on him from high up. He was certain it had to be a SPAD. He let him come closer and would get out of the way at the last moment, let the enemy overshoot and he would then pounce on his back. “- Still too far ... too far ...”
Bullets started to rain and hit Ziggy’s machine. “- Scheiße!” He miscalculated, or the enemy was a crack shot. Never mind, he would now pounce on his foe as he flew by. He was shocked to see it was a Camel, not a SPAD. “- How did he not rip his wings off pulling out of such a steep dive?” Zygmunt’s observation had no answer. The Camel just pulled up and stayed up. Hahn’s plan wasn’t worth two Pfennigs. He would have to do this the hard way. That is if he could shake that Sopwith off his tail. Thankfully one of Ziggy’s wingmen came to the rescue and swatted the Englander from his rear. They’ve began their deadly chase with other machines getting in the way. He saw this Camel had a white “A” painted on the top wing. A few more turns later and Zygmunt noticed another Camel on his tail. He abandoned his original target, seeing two more Albatrosen were taking care of him and decided to deal with the threat behind him. This Camel had a white “K” on his wing and the two pilots were going head to head with each other. Another pair of Albatrosen were also after his target, but Hahn ignored them, concentrating on his target. They came close and at some point the Camel performed some kind of a miracle move that left Ziggy flying in the opposite direction. The “K” was getting away and Hahn fired at his target from long range, not expecting to hit him, but more out of frustration. The Camel changed direction. He must have been hit. It was his mistake. Zygmunt was able to catch up and pump him full of lead. The engine caught on fire and the Camel went down immediately. The rest of Zygmunt’s Schwarm scattered the remaining intruders and after mopping them up the flight returned to base.

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