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#4547565 - 12/07/20 06:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) ***** [Re: Raine]  
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Was there once a thread here?

#4547566 - 12/07/20 06:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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OK, now we're just getting silly and it's probably time to - ooo, wait - is that Baklava?!

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#4547568 - 12/07/20 06:49 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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There still is Raine, we just need to clear away the clutter. I'll get rid of the Baklava.

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#4547569 - 12/07/20 06:50 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Not before I cleanup the syrup with my finger. Oh #%&*$#, now I'm doing it!

#4547570 - 12/07/20 06:52 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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LOL! It is catching, isn't it?

.

#4547574 - 12/07/20 07:00 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Its messy when the BWOC overspills, isn't it?

#4547577 - 12/07/20 07:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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So true, and so very messy.

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#4547588 - 12/07/20 07:44 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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epower Online grunt
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Eva Green. Oh my.

#4547589 - 12/07/20 07:49 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Indeed.

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#4547597 - 12/07/20 09:07 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Eva Green, with barely a thread.
Oops, wrong thread


We will remember them.
#4547600 - 12/07/20 09:38 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Hold on a mo Ted, what thread were you looking for, and where might one find it?

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#4547602 - 12/07/20 10:11 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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If it’s Eva Green and barely a thread then it must be Camelot - the TV series.


"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4547605 - 12/07/20 10:25 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Makes sense because, as you know, in short there's simply not a more congenial spot for happily-ever-afterings.

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#4547711 - 12/08/20 06:01 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Thanks all.

#4547728 - 12/08/20 07:36 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Jeffery Kornelius , Thorpe
Sgt , Rfc.
41 Sqn, France.

Dec 7, 1917.


I say had a go at the Huns after signing in and being shown the Taps on the SE 5a. Smashingly good to fly about and feel the kite shudder when the guns fired. I was tail end of a flight of 5 flying a loaner a/c # 3 when we chased 4 e/a down the lines. I fired as I dove pass to far away and off center so missed. I zoomed looked back as my wing mates took out a 2 seat and a V strut.

Attached Files CFS3 2020-12-08 11-11-10-67.jpgCFS3 2020-12-08 11-12-11-32.jpgCFS3 2020-12-08 11-13-44-09.jpgCFS3 2020-12-08 11-14-26-84.jpg
#4547743 - 12/08/20 10:11 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Shredward Online content
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Camelot ? Camel lots ?
A thinly veiled attempt to get this thread back on threads....errrrr....topic


We will remember them.
#4547753 - 12/08/20 10:51 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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BWOC Survivor!...So Far!!
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Shredder;

Are you referring to the one hump or two hump(Bactrian) version??

Last edited by Robert_Wiggins; 12/08/20 10:53 PM.

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#4547777 - 12/09/20 04:05 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Lou - Excellent pic of the pyramids there. Another fine outing by Freddy.

OK, now it's time to get this thread back on topic after four, count 'em, pages of digression. It was fun, I do admit.

BTW, I received a courtesy memo from the relevant authority and should warn you Anglophile types that you may be facing a formal tsk-tsking for failing to recognize or comment when I dropped two of the most famous literary addresses in SW London. I even mentioned the Bellamy's next door in the first one. Untold minutes laying these Easter eggs... I had to cry in the shower briefly.

_________________________________________________________________________

À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 46 of many



29 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

Major Blomfield saw A-Flight off on the morning patrol for the last time. I made it a point to thank him again for bringing me to 56. I have no desire to command a squadron but should that fate befall me, his would be the example I would follow. I will miss our dapper little CO and his boundless energy.

8.00 Line Patrol Neuve-Chapelle to Vimy Ridge. Exploded a plug after takeoff. Returned to Estree.

1.30 Afternoon amazingly clear. Distant Offensive Patrol from Wynghene Aerodrome NW to the Roulers/Ostend Road. Hoidge, Turnbull, Johnson, Dodds and Read. Still worried about Read but he looked positively enthusiastic this morning. I set Turnbull to look after him.

Lines at 8000 feet. Northeast of Roulers we tangled with a pack of six Pfalz.

[Linked Image]
His left top plane folded after my second burst.

Found Dodds then grabbed west looking for the remainder of A Flight. Caught another Hun racing for home.

[Linked Image]
The second Pfalz crashed into the trees but didn’t explode.

I circled the wreck and thought I saw the pilot drag himself from the cockpit. Another day, Fritz!

A flight was scattered all over Hunland. Low on ammunition and altitude Dodds and I headed west to our lines collecting Hoidge and Johnson along the way. Circling back we saw no sign of Turnbull or Read.

Passing NW of Ypres 3 Albatri attacked from height. Periwinkles again!
After a brief fight, one Alb fled east, Dodds and Hoidge saw to their man

[Linked Image]

I had the third in jeopardy when my Lewis jammed. The Vickers was empty. When I zoomed high to clear the stoppage, Herr Periwinkle seized his chance and made good his escape.

Turnbull and Read landed shortly after our return to Estrée. They’d scrapped inconclusively with some Albatri near Ypres. Turnbull reported that Read had sent one Hun east trailing smoke. Read appeared completely undone. He sat down on the grass shaking and remained completely unresponsive. Hoidge and I stood him up and got him into the Squadron hut where Grandpa Marson administered some medicinal whiskey. Read had done his duty but the poor bugger wasn’t cut out for combat flying. The CO sent him off to hospital.

Evening dispatch rider brought news from Wing confirming both Pfalz. 84 now.
_____________________

Major Rainsford Balcombe-Brown, MC assumed command today. He was six months with No.1 Squadron last year, essentially the entire Somme battle. I don’t envy him. He has some huge shoes to fill succeeding ‘Dickie’ Blomfield.

[Linked Image]
Change of Command. Rainsford Balcombe-Brown and Richard Blomfield



30 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

Patrol of Friendly lines this morning. Circling for altitude in our usual spot near Fruges, my radiator burst. Belching steam I headed back to Estrée-Blanche.

[Linked Image]
Engine quit over the Lys with Estrée Blanche in sight. Landed safely.

Two days in a row! Flight Sgt Picket and Corporal Allyn put the proverbial bullet to the head of this Hispano. I’ll fly a spare this afternoon while they fit a new engine to B.35

Read’s replacement arrived this afternoon. Indra Roy. He is the first Indian pilot I’ve met. I liked him immediately.

Spent the late morning on the bag then the afternoon taking Roy up on Orientation and training flights. I do hope he lasts longer than poor Read.



31 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

8.00 A-Flight would attack the Loos Rail junction and for the first time carry 4 Cooper bombs. Unopposed into the target which received a d@mned good thrashing.

[Linked Image]

No sooner had I reformed A Flight when a Boche gunner scored a lucky shot and holed my petrol tank. I could smell the fuel as I climbed frantically for the lines, some 5 miles distant. Switching to the gravity tank I was above No Man’s Land when the Hispano died. Fortunately, I had sufficient altitude to glide into friendly territory.

[Linked Image]

Landed in a field near Bethune. Grandpa dispatched a repair crew, and I was airborne and back to Estrée-Blanche for lunch.


14.30 Afternoon Patrol with Hoidge, Turnbull, Dodds and Cawson escorting 2 R.E.8s from RFC-34 on a mission to bomb Hun positions NE of Marcoing. After three bombing passes, we saw the Harry Tates toward then scrapped with a flight of seven silver Pfalz DIIIs.

[Linked Image]
Chased one Hun then broke off to clear Cawson’s tail.

[Linked Image]
Many hits. The final burst separated his right wing.

[Linked Image]
I caught Pfalz number 2 at lower altitude. He fell just south of Riencourt.

The Boche gunners at Riencourt expressed their displeasure and ventilated B.35.

[Linked Image]

Crossing back to our lines a third Pfalz flew right past me headed for Hunland. Vickers was empty and I had barely half a drum of Lewis. He may have been damaged since he didn’t maneuver much. I emptied the drum of Lewis at 30 yards but he flew on, belching black smoke. I’d hit his controls and he flew in wide circles as I followed. I pulled alongside pointing down, but he refused. After 3 minutes circling, he lost control, went into a steep dive, and crashed 1 mile north of the Advanced Landing Ground at Bapaume.

Maybery borrowed McCudden’s machine (B’4863) this afternoon and almost came to grief. After several abortive attacks he finally latched onto and downed a black and blue Albatros before he was set upon by the fellow’s companions, one of whom holed his petrol tank. At the last moment he remembered his gravity tank and made it over the lines, landing at Ballieul.

Two of the three Pfalz confirmed. 86



1 November 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

Weather rainy but Major B-B went up early and found it clearing over the lines. Flyable.

9.45 – A flight would go 20 miles into Hunland to attack the aerodrome at Varsenaere – Hoidge, Turnbull, Johnson, Dodds and Cawson.

Howling winds and intermittent squalls all the way to target.

[Linked Image]

Heading home we overflew 4 low Albatri. I was on the verge of waggling my wings and leading us down when I saw the flight of 7 Huns emerge from the clouds 4000 feet above. We continued for the lines.

Weather closed in come afternoon cancelling the afternoon patrol. I finally played my first match of Rugby football. A sloppy affair which our side won 13-8. After all the anticipation it was an anti-climax with Arthur gone. Still no news. We all keep up the pretense that he is a prisoner and will soon make good his escape, but if he were alive the Huns would not be silent about capturing one of the RFC’s finest.



2 November 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

Rain. No war flying today. Weather cleared late afternoon. Slingsby went to Ballieul to retrieve B’4863 but got lost on his way back to Estrée-Blanche and landing in darkness he hit a house. He was unharmed but B’4863 was a complete write off. Mac will be furious. Hundreds of hours he’d lavished on that machine. I’d not want to be Slingsby when Mac returns from leave.



3 November 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

The plane lay crumpled. I found myself strangely fixated on the blue and white quartered wheels of B Flight sticking up from the inverted undercarriage that was the only recognizable part of the wreck. Then I saw him, or what was left of him.

[Linked Image]

His head and shoulders lay visible peeking out from under the wreckage, facing me. A head ever so slightly misshapen from the impact of his fall. That beatific childlike face whose laugh and light and wonder shone so brightly, now gone sickly white and lifeless. I wanted to turn away, but I couldn’t. Arthur! No!
Drawn in by some unseen force, I braced my feet to arrest my slide, but they kept slipping. I tried to call out, but no sound came...


The trapped groaning cry loosed itself at last and wrenched me from the dream as Hubert my tent mate shook me awake, speaking words of calm.

Was it starting? I’d seen this happen with other long-serving pilots, some of whom I’d dragged from their nightmares. More often than not they were going down in flames. I never dreamed of my own death, only my dead, and those ghosts were increasingly restless of late.

Last edited by epower; 12/09/20 04:32 AM.
#4547781 - 12/09/20 04:40 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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So much reading to catch up on, and so many pages to scroll through to find it all! Naughty Lou! neaner

Carrick – let me start by sending my condolences. The Curse of the Gong Ferry strikes again. We look forward to your new man and his shiny SE5a.

Epower – you stuck in a new post when I wasn't looking. I completely missed the literary reference. I'll research that tomorrow. I even looked at the address in Chelsea and was pleasantly surprised that I had been a very short distance away back in February when I went to the Saatchi Gallery to see the King Tut exhibit. Had breakfast in the little café tucked into the back of Partridge's. Oliver has certainly had a productive return to duty. I thoroughly enjoyed the leave episodes and am amassing theories about all the little mysteries that you have woven into the tale.

R Talbot – lovely job reproducing the period documents.

Lou – Freddie also did not waste much time beating up on EAs on his return. Please remind him not to linger over Hunland at low altitude!

Wulfe – it is so good to have you back in the mix. Squadron life comes alive in your stories. Wonderful characters! I admired you shooting in that video. That offset gunsight in the Spad never suited me but you are a master with it.

Fullofit – I hope Ziggy is doing well and returning soon.



War Journal of Flight Sub-Lieutenant George Ewan MacAlister

8 Squadron, RNAS
Mont-St-Eloi, France

Part 5


[Linked Image]
"It was snowing heavily near the ground but I could make out a bit of tumbled earth with fewer shell holes than the rest."

4 December 1917 – overcast. The show this morning was a balloon strafe. For this we were rigged with “Le Prieur” rockets. These Heath Robinson contraptions are mounted on the outer wing struts and fired by means of an electrical cable and switch. I’d not even heard of them until I saw the things on my machine. Our meagre supply did not allow for expending any in training. Day, who would lead one of the two flights in the show, told me that the best way to use them was in a dive. “Wait until you’re about to crash into the bloody thing and fire your rockets. Of course, by that time you will be close enough to be destroyed by the blast, but you will be covered in glory and your parents can frame your DSO and hang it beside your picture on the parlour wall.”

Strangely, I found the prospect of attacking a balloon thrilling. They are reputedly well protected by anti-aircraft fire and defensive patrols. C Flight took off before us and quickly disappeared into the grey sky. Day led us up through the cloud. He had figured out that if he aimed his nose at a point just over a hand’s width to the right of the ruined abbey of Mont-St-Eloi, we would be in line with the target balloon. As soon as we were on course he brought us above the cloud, and after about fifteen minutes we dropped back down until we could see the earth again. I was bowled over to see the Hun observation balloon about a mile dead ahead and a little below.

Just as I was preparing myself for the attack, the balloon erupted in flames. C Flight had beaten us to the party! There was nothing else to do and the Archie was most unwelcoming, so we returned to our aerodrome and sent our rockets back to stores.

The afternoon saw us on a long line patrol south toward Cambrai, where the ground Huns were hell-bent on regaining their lost territory. When our time was about up we were attacked by a large formation of Albatros scouts. I made the mistake of turning toward them too quickly and arrived amongst them before my comrades were able to support me. For a very uncomfortable minute or two I had no fewer than five Huns to entertain! Once the others arrived the situation became more manageable. Munday drove an Albatros down and I put a few rounds into another. I spotted an enemy machine on Dennett’s tail and dived on him, firing as I went. Then without warning my machine was hit by a burst from close behind. I attempted evasive action. An aileron wire was broken and my Camel did not handle properly. I could turn to the left only with the stick full over and full rudder. A minute or so later, the offending EA was back on my tail and shooting more bits of my machine away. I was able to force him to overshoot but there was nothing for me to do except find a place to put my crippled Camel down. It was snowing heavily near the ground but I could make out a bit of tumbled earth with fewer shell holes than the rest. I switched off and let my machine drop into the mud. It bounced once and skidded to a halt as the undercarriage partially collapsed.

I took quick stock of my situation. The Canal du Nord had been a short distance off to my left and the village of Etricourt was just ahead. Gunfire was heavy all about and the driving snow reduced visibility. That probably explains why I had not already been shelled. I removed the watch from the cockpit and slipped over the side into the mud. The well-rutted remains of a road guided me to the village, where I found a cluster of soldiers sitting by the tracks of a light railroad. Their actions were heavy and difficult to understand, like a mix of Irish and Cornish. It gradually became clear that these were men of the Newfoundland Regiment. They were leaving the line after holding it against the German counter-attack in the sector. One of their officers, a Captain Whalen, told me that he doubted I could find a working telephone anywhere nearby and he invited me to travel with them as far as Bapaume. This seemed to be a better proposition than walking about with my heavy flying boots. Unfortunately, I was unable to find anyone to guard my machine. In my judgement, the thing was beyond repair in any event.

I reached Bapaume by six that evening and was able to phone back to our aerodrome. The Records Officer was happy to hear that I was safe. I explained the situation with the Camel. After a brief consultation with the Squadron Commander, I was told to remain in Bapaume until a car arrived for me. I gave directions to my crash site. The squadron was sending a lorry with a recovery team. Squadron Commander Draper came on the line and told me not to worry about the aeroplane. He merely wanted a more technical opinion about its salvageability.

Midnight saw me back home, where Sneath welcomed me back to our cabin with three fingers of whisky. It had been an exhausting day. There was a parcel from home that brought tears to my eyes – home-made shortbread, tinned plum pudding, fruit cake wrapped in cheesecloth and soaked in brandy (all in a sturdy tin), Carreras cigarettes, and a copy of Piccadilly Jim. Life had taken a much better turn.

The sun made an appearance on Wednesday, 5 December. After breakfast we lounged about the sheds until the klaxon sounded, followed by two blasts signifying a job for B Flight. Within minutes we were airborne, heading south along the lines toward square some ambitious Hun was attempting to spot for artillery. Finding nothing there, we strolled about the sky looking for trouble. As we passed close to the German aerodrome at Riencourt, we spotted a lone Hannover circling the field in preparation for landing. Day, who was leading our patrol, turned over the field but held off attacking. Perhaps it was impetuous of me, but I throttled back and immediately dived at the Hun. This time I did not attempt to get under its tail. Instead, I came down directly on it and fired into its wings in down into the pilot and observer’s cockpits. The enemy machine shed its wings and fell onto the aerodrome, trailing smoke.

When I climbed away my comrades had disappeared. Archie chased me for several miles as I climbed toward the south. We had been heading in that direction before I dived. I noticed a group of aeroplanes swirling about just to my west. The others – Day, Johnstone, Dennett, Jordan, and Compston – were scrapping with a group of seven or eight Albatri. Coming in late as I did, I caught the Huns unaware. I selected a lovely blue machine that was on Johnstone’s tail and shot at it until it fell out of control. I was sure I had the beast but there was no time to follow its fall.

Another Albatros fired at me from close behind. I climbed to the right and the Hun overshot my Camel. Now the tables were turned and I saw his machine enter a spin and disappear out of control into a low cloud.

On my return I claimed all three machines. Unfortunately, none of my comrades had seen my Huns go down, so the matter rested with the people on the ground.

Late in the afternoon we were back up – a long patrol south toward Albert. It was getting dark and the Huns did not come out to play. Flight Commander Munday allowed me to take his streamers and lead the group. While this was a novel experience in quite a thrill, the responsibility became disconcerting as the sun lowered over the horizon. Thin searchlight beams brushed across the sky and only the faintest reflection of moonlight on rivers or rooftops gave one any indication of where one was. I confess I was totally lost until I saw the rooftops of Arras. The city was identifiable by the curve in the lines to its east. From there I went hunting for the ruined towers of the abbey, which pointed my way home. I began to breathe normally only when I saw the line of fire pots put out to mark our field.

None of my Huns from the morning were confirmed.

We were up twice again on 6 December. It was a lovely day although frigid. In the morning we had a long patrol deep into Hunland. We carried bombs to drop on an enemy aerodrome south of Douai. We picked our way between enemy patrols. The sky was full of Huns, and we were fortunate that none of them spotted us. We made our attack in a shallow dive from three thousand feet and managed to destroy at least five hangers and a two-seater, and then scamper home for a proper breakfast.

In the afternoon we flew north toward Bethune and patrolled over our aerodromes in that sector. After ninety uneventful minutes we returned home.

Squadron Commander Draper informed us at dinner that we have the afternoon off tomorrow and a proper celebration was in order. He mentioned the six Huns I downed in one day and the records of each flight. We have done marvellously well and deserve to feel good about ourselves. Compston is the president of the mess committee and he called his little group together to begin the planning. Every officer was levied ten francs for the extra messing.

Orders came at dinner that the morning show would be an offensive patrol over the area near the Hun aerodrome at Haubordin. We would be carrying bombs in case we had a chance to have a go at the place. There was much black humour in the wardroom about the many ways in which one could miss tomorrow night’s dinner.

Attached Files Downed near Cambrai.jpg
#4547805 - 12/09/20 01:29 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
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Epower - I’m afraid a number of your well-placed Easter Eggs were wasted on me and my less-than-stellar memory, it’s been over forty years since I read any of John le Carré’s classic spy tales. Pains me to admit that, I deserve a severe dressing down for it I know.
To Oliver, while his return to the front has clearly been productive for him in terms of the tally board, I am very concerned about that recent nightmare of his. He best stay sharp. He should also strongly consider a command assignment if one is offered him; a desk may be dull but it’s far less deadly. But then staying out of danger does not appear to be in his nature.

Raine - MacAlister was lucky to walk away from that ditching in the mud, and luckier still to be on the right side of said mud. Smart man to remember the cockpit watch, HQ will likely be more impressed by that than any EA he might have shot down. Too bad about the three denied claims, but his record as a newcomer to the fight still stands as stellar. Gawd-awful weather lately, so it is a good time for a party after dinner.

Carrick - A hearty welcome to your new lad Jeffery. Here’s hoping he makes it.


Now then, to the thread derailment, it was not all my doing. A fair bit of it yes, but not all.


As for Captain Frederick Abbott and the men of 65 Squadron, it’s been a washout since their last outings on the 7th, with those outings resulting in no Huns claimed and the loss of 2nd Lt. Dyer. He’d been seen to go down well east of Old Mossy Face after tangling with a V-strutter and is presumed dead. The fellow had been with them less than a fortnight yet in that short time had proven himself to be a good man and a valuable asset, particularly in the mess due to his outstanding piano playing. He will be missed.

.

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