Carrick- Well, fitting I suppose! And anyway, better be staying alive than dead. Two decent patrols for Fay, even if there wasn't that much success for him!

Tross - Truly, especially when the Squadron is at a bad state. Certainly good enough no one is getting jumped by Huns at such reduced numbers. Anytime there's more though, now that's when things seem to change... What can one do after all if not think and banter when the weather is that terrible and everyone is dying left and right. Drink themselves to death? Hah, well, hopefully Dean can succeed at that, anyway.
Another good day for Jacob I see! A trip over to Ypres and now 26 kills, and yet his streak continues. Falcon of Flanders, eh? I mean, it has a ring of some sort to it for sure. Also sounds like the name for a superhero of some kind.

Fullofit - No crosses in sight, though that needs further inspection. Maybe he's got himself a banner saying 'I love the Kaiser!' to wave around?
Seems like that's how it is sometimes, and bullets strike at the worst times, as does the claims board with their denials too can strike at the most unexpected and worst times. Wouldn't be surprising if they are in kahoots of some sorts.
Where would one go about acquiring pixie dust this side of the front anyway? Pray to get some off of those who get visited by the Almighty, dare I say that accursed name, Gong Fairy!?
Well, Dean is enjoying it far more than he'd be enjoying being spotted by some Jasta on a joyflight while there's only four men in his flight. As for the AMs, reckon they'd still be working overtime trying to make sure these crafts dont crash and burn the moment they try to take off, with the state they receive them in sometimes. Once it clears up though Dean can certainly start working on that 5th...!
Pyotr I see is having more fun with two seaters, though this time with some more success! Good job on the two man attack though, that certainly helps with dealing damage to those resilient pests. Hopefully the claims board won't be needlessly cruel.





2/LT Dean Andrews Cunningham
№64 Squadron RAF
Izles-Les-Hameux, Flanders
8th May, 1918.

4 confirmed

A couple more pilots arrived this morning to join the Squadron to help deal with the losses. They seemed like alright chaps, though I did not particularly pay much attention to them at this point. Maybe if they manage to stick around long enough, but as of right now I simply fear that the cycle will repeat and the next encounter we have half of them will simply die, along with most others in the squadron. Regardless, there is some room for positivity, as the squadron was able to restore itself to the capacity of 7 crafts in a flight, which Hayden took as an opportunity to carry out another patrol of Hun lines, but now with the ability to actually fight back should we meet something that we don't like being there.

The weather, thankfully, has improved a bit as the utterly heavy clouds were lessened ever so slightly, and the sun finally decided to show itself. In those conditions we took off into the blue and flew on northeast towards the lines, over the mud where the fighting still raged on and the shells kept slamming day and night. Our patrol went smoothly and we did not run into any Huns, though right before we turned to head home I did spy an interesting sight in the distance. Looking off to the side of Hun lines, a distance away from us was a great mass of aeroplanes twirling around each other in a furball. I was curious of course, as it seems like while we did not manage to find ourselves any targets, others certainly did. I of course wished to go and investigate, but unfortunately Hayden hadn't spotted them, so we went back and landed instead. I do wish we could've went in and helped though.. Would've been a chance to jump some Huns while they're distracted too.

Later in the day came an alarm and an order to mount an interception sortie, which we of course responded to and sent ourselves up into the sky, preparing for a fight we usually get on such flights, with me hoping I'd be able to bag myself a Hun while we were at it and hopefully not take too many losses, but as we arrived to our designated position we found nothing. This of course wasn't enough to deter us and we kept on flying, circling about and even going as far as the Hun lines but still we saw nothing either side of us, be it the friendly or hostile skies. Whoever we were sent here to deal with simply weren't there anymore. Finally after maybe half an hour we decided to make a turn and start heading home, during which we also did not find anything out of the norm.

Once we got there, we did discover some news that an airfield North of us, also piloting SE5s just like us had been jumped by Hun Triplanes while they were taking off at around the same time that we were sent out on our intercept, leading us to conclude that perhaps those Triplanes were the thing that we were meant to catch and deal with. It made sense in my mind, though I must admit I was somewhat disappointed, as after the one unsuccesful encounter I've had with the triplanes I would've fancied myself a second go, though we did also get lucky not being the ones jumped as soon as we were taking off. I trust my machine, but something tells me going against a Triplane at treetop level in one of these would've been more than regretable.

Ok so basically, I had written a massive log about all this time. I didn't know about the attachments limit, where apparently if you reach it you can't even go back to remove attachments and have to scrap it. I tried to reload the page and I have now lost all of it. I'm so sorry, I'm now pissed because I'd have to write down everything again

I'm gonna do a long story short. Schutzmeier was deemed healthy, he flew again 1 mission and stopped for that day. On the 3rd, he flew 2 missions after which the game bugged and said he landed in enemy territory. So 3 days pass and we're at the 6th. Patrol behind enemy lines, they engaged RFC-40, where Albrecht shot down 5 enemy scouts. Later there was an intercept mission. He was chosen by Goring and another pilot to fly with them. Scharm Eins who was covering us got ambushed by Camels from RFC-43. They engaged as well, Schutzmeier helped Goring by taking down the ace "Flossy" Lingham who was tailing him.
On the morning of the 8th 3 of his claims got confirmed, 2 Scouts and the ace Camel.
Mortified I couldn't do any narrative, but I'm not really into spedning another 40 minutes writing a nice log for you all. I'll redeem myself, do not worry guys

You folks are on a roll! I don’t know if I’ll ever catch up. Great writing and some scholarly knowledge in this bunch. Trustworthy, don’t feel bad, as the song says “I’ve been in your shoes.”

NR, check for invisible ink on Lehman’s fuselage. Maybe he wears pointy flying cap to signal his kameraden?
True that, those denied claims and bullets to the engine seem to be keeping Pyotr company lately, but the same could be said for any pilot at some time in their career. Just his luck.
And speaking of luck, if Smirnov knew where to get pixie dust, he’d get some for himself. I recon Lou would be the best person to ask. I would also like to know how it’s made. Is it made from pixies themselves by grinding them down, or is their excrement harvested and crushed into powder? If we knew who makes it, we’d be that much closer to finding out how to get some.
More reinforcements for the battered 64th. That’s good. Should stop those 4-ship formations - very dangerous these days.
Thank God the weather is improving. I was getting sick of the gloomy cloud landscape. Drives one to a drink, it does. With the sun up squadron’s mood should improve as well.
Those furballs in the distance always look inviting, but Hayden was probably right to ignore the one you saw on your patrol. By the time the flight would get there the battle would have been over and it would be more of a waste of time than anything. Cunningham should just observe his C.O. and learn from him. One day he may end up in his shoes. (MFair knows that song - I don’t)
Sometime those scramble missions are what the doctor ordered. Fly around, do your bit and return home. Current scramble missions are a waste of time. They shouldn’t even be called that. They’re simply enemy high alt bombing runs on your airfield. I do miss those low level attacks on the airfield while taking off. There is nothing to get your blood pumping like the enemy on your tail while you’re struggling to gain altitude. (Strutters excluded)
And it looks like Dean doesn’t need that pixie dust after all. Avoiding a tussle with the Dreideckers was a godsend. There’ll be time for that, but first get your squadron back up to full strength.

Kebab, rookie mistake. Never ever type any long reports directly into the often failing window of SimHQ forum. You’re just asking for trouble. Do your report elsewhere, in your word processor, even notepad, then copy and paste here. Congrats on the confirmed kills. Keep going!

MFair, don’t be a stranger.

9 May, 1918 04:45 dawn patrol
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov
SPAD VII
2 confirmed kills

The two-seater shot down near Esquinnoy was denied. The enemy machine went down near the airfield and it was obvious that the Anti-Aerienne had gotten him. Pyotr was infuriated again. As he stormed out of the office after learning the bad news he kicked the little kitten licking itself by the doorway.
Patrol enemy front line sector between Noyon and Roye. No contact.



9 May, 1918 09:45 morning mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov
SPAD VII
2 confirmed kills

Patrol over factories at Beauvais. Still no contact with the enemy, but it was to be expected. Their flight plan took them so high above that the only enemy they would likely encounter would be a Zeppelin.

9 May, 1918 14:25 afternoon mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov
SPAD VII
2 confirmed kills

Pyotr was hoping to repeat the success of the last attack on Champien aerodrome this time around as well. Minus maybe the unconfirmed two-seater, that is. He was in good spirits and the sudden wagging of wings of his C.O. in front brought him back out of his reverie. His heart sunk when he saw what they were against. The dreaded Triplanes. They had the altitude advantage, circling above like sharks. The fight began and everything became a blur. Everything was happening too fast. Smirnov couldn’t decide which way to go and which plane to attack. Someone was firing from behind. The choice was made for him. He was told many times not to turn with the Hun. He, instead, dove to pick up speed and distance himself from the melee. He wasn’t running away. He was regrouping. Looking for higher ground. The Boche followed but at a relatively safe distance. Pyotr continued to make large circles, comfortable for his plane, but losing height at the same time. He began to pray. Will the enemy tire of circling after him, or will he run out of altitude first? He was prepared to set his plane in a field if it ever came to that. Then the miracle he was waiting for happened. The Hun turned back and decided to fly home. That’s what Smirnov was waiting for. He was on his rear in an instant and firing his wildly inaccurate Vickers. He scored some hits and continued to track his wounded prey. More damage and it looked like Pyotr was about to get him. He was ecstatic, he would survive! Then his heart sunk for the second time this afternoon. He spied another Fokker coming at him. Quick! Finish this one and get ready for the next one. Smirnov fired some more and disengaged. He knew his first Dreidecker has had enough. Where is that second one?
“- давай!”
He found him below and was able to get on this one’s tail as well. There was hope after all. Smirnov aimed and fired. He scored again! He was getting good at this. And unfortunately getting too cocky. With a flick of a wing, the Fokker was on his SPAD and returning fire. His controls went mushy and steam started to belch from the front of his plane. It was time to land. He looked ahead and found a spot, cleared some trees and landed heavily. Pyotr looked behind to see the Dreidecker moving away. Smirnov took a deep breath. Still looking at the receding Hun he blurted out: “- Let’s call it a draw.”

YouTube Link

Nicely done

Henri N du Fay
Sgt
Esc Spa 94
Montagne, Aerodrome.

1 Victory Confirmed.

May 9 1918


Bagged a Scout today ! Although I do admit the e/a was shot up by my Lead as I flew wing man, I got the Kill.



Hq Arty in our sector was reporting Monsters flying over their Heads dropping explosives. We had 3 a/c ready ( one was mind ) so off into the wild Blue dark skies we went. We found 2 large flying a/c in between clouds but they disappeared into the darkness of another cloud leaving us clueless where Zay went . Mon Dieu !

Fullofit... why aren't you dead?
That first two minutes were just manic... the amount of times you tried to turn fight a well flown DR.I and survived, lol!
The only reason your skin is intact is because that Hun was foolish enough to make a run for it, and you had the superior speed to catch him and spoil his trip home
Do you realise I was on the edge of my seat for the whole video... great action once again!

Carrick - Henri was unlucky with the claim but the Escadrille did a good job on that balloon and then beat away the Hun attack in the afternoon. So all things considered it's progressing pretty well. Well done downing that German, you must have finished him off.

Fullofit - Pyotr and Duret did a fine job doubling up on that two seater. Strange as you don't often see Hun two seaters turning into a fight like that. Maybe they saw the writing on the wall and didn't want to be sitting ducks. Then a run in with the dreaded Dreideckers (that's a tongue twister when you've had a drink I can tell you). I thought for a moment Pyotr was done for but he came through it and with two claims to boot. Talking of boots, what's this about Pyotr and cats?

NR - Good to see 64 squadron getting reinforcements. Let's see how long they last. Another couple of quiet sorties for Cunningham. Those 'intercept' missions where you find nothing but empty skies are a pain. Shame Cunningham couldn't spot a straggling Dreidecker from that raid to the north, a loner trying to get home maybe. All he can do is be patient.

TWK - Bad news about your report going west. What I do is just before I press 'Post Reply' I highlight all my text and copy it, then if it goes wrong (and it has) I can just paste it again. Well done on those kills.

Thanks Trooper! Why am I not dead? Pixie dust! A good sprinkling I suppose. The SPAD isn’t the easiest of planes to dogfight in, let alone get something in front of it, aim properly and actually hit something. I’m still getting to grips with the flying part. The rest is sheer dumb luck. You could also call it élan - it worked for the French.
To be honest, I had to circle lower than him in hope of him getting bored, or leaving me for dead. Why he left me alone? I don’t know. Too low to the ground? Bad smell? Didn’t want to be the last one at the Kasino?
I hope the edge of your seat is comfortable, because I expect all fights with the dreaded Dreidecker will be like this one.

Albert, I have a feeling the German bomber crews tried to confuse the French pilots. It’s exactly what you wouldn’t expect. Problem is they haven’t thought about the next step. Lessons would have been learned if any of the crews had survived.
I can see it, try saying dreaded Dreideckers thrice fast.
As to the boot … it’s a form of diffusing frustration. Try it next time your claim gets denied.

Leutenant-zur-see Jacob Kühn, EK1, HHO
Marine-Feld-Jagdstaffel 1
Jabbeke airfield

26 confirmed kills

9th May 1918

Morning sortie

Oberleutenant Saschenberg took Kette Zwei up on a patrol back down towards Ypres.

The weather was perfect again, crystal clear blue skies with only a few whispy clouds as Jacob and the others formed and climbed up before heading south west.

They reached Ypres without incident and were patrolling as planned at 15000 feet.

Jacob was looking down towards the lines when he saw three white shapes travelling across the brown mass of pummeled earth below.

They stood out clearly and Jacob signalled and descended down. He saw they were three Strutters again, 'these guys just don't give up' thought Jacob as he got nearer.

The Strutters had seen the Albatrosse now and were trying to climb up towards them.

Jacob chose the nearest Strutter to attack and pounced. He fired into him and a turning fight ensued. The Strutter gunner was busy as always but the high 'G' turns through his aim out.

A couple of rounds pinged into Jacob's wing but Jacob responded with both barrels pouring into the fuselage of the Strutter.

The Strutter dived but Jacob was expecting it and another burst must have cut some wires as the Strutter lurched over and fell into a spiralling fall.

Jacob watch as it smashed into the ground.

Leutenant Heinrich was just behind Jacob and the two formed up and headed home.

One other Strutter was downed without serious damage to Kette Zwei.


Afternoon sortie

Jacob took control of the afternoon mission which was to patrol the lines south of Nieuwpoort.

The weather was still excellent as they climbed and circled up to a good height before setting off for the lines.

All was quiet for the first part of the journey but as Kette Zwei approached the lines Jacob saw several black dots over to the right crossing the lines.

He climbed gradually and kept the dots in focus until they grew into a clear formation of scouts...... Nieuports as it turned out.

The Nieuports now saw Kette Zwei and turned towards them. Both formations raced towards each other. Jacob aimed at an incoming Nieuport and fired at him. The Nieuport shot upwards as Jacob raced past.

Jacob kept his height and looked for a target. Both formations had melted into a melee now.

He saw a Nieuport below him and seemingly getting the better of one of the Albatros scouts.

Jacob dived onto him and fired, forcing the Nieuport away. Jacob stayed with him. They descended down but Jacob was always on top and kept hammering the Nieuport. Another burst tore chunks out of the Nieuport's wing.

The enemy aircraft now began a slow spiralling fall but Jacob wasn't finished. He came around behind and blasted the Nieuport who now nosed down and smashed into the ground.

Jacob took stock but could see no-one else he also saw he was quite low and artillery bursts were blasting the ground below.

He climbed back up and headed home.

Oberleutenant Saschenberg was happy to confirm the Strutter as Heinrich had put his name to it but the Nieuport was denied, no-one, not even on the ground, could lay witness to it.

Fullofit, turn fighting Triplanes in a Spad! Russians, go figure! Great video Amigo.

Albert Tross, ye seem to be toying with the English and French. Racking up quite the score. Lovely screenshots.

Trusty - Most unfortunate to hear, for next time maybe consider copy pasting the writing into a text document before doing anything? Or, well, doing it in a text document and then pasting it here?
Regardless, some bad luck with the game followed by a few confirmed claims in aid of the Fat One. Seems like the bad is balancing out with the good for your lad.

Fullofit - Sounds like a good idea, start a full on detective investigation into Lehman's craft.
Suppose so, though bad luck seems to hit the hardest when it comes down to it. For example, the yet another unfair example of the AA taking kills for themselves, even from poor Pyotr. Oh well, always next time!
Grinding down pixies? Sheesh, seems a little bit like some form of cruelty. Do we not have any kind of human rights law against such things at this stage in the war... Or, errr, pixies are not human are they. Do they even have rights!? So many questions
Those 4 ship flights are nothing but tense, given how you can always get jumped by something, and in such a vulnerable position it'd certainly be a death sentence. The weather certainly is taking a turn for the best which is good though, those clouds are a bit of a pain.
The intercept being a letdown is only more of a reason to wish to tangle with that distant dogfight, maybe pick off a straggler or too, but there is also a chance of being a waste, true. Hayden does have a less aggressive streak than Cunningham though, so maybe that is something for him to consider.
On the topic of Dreideckers though, I see Pyotr himself has had quite a run in with those things. What a tense fight, but at least it ended well enough with managing to deal some damage to the Huns and even surviving a forced landing! Could've ended well differently though. Could've been some cursed Strutters... Suppose a draw is a fair one though! Who knows, maybe Pyotr will cross paths with that airman again at some point and force him down instead!
And speaking of cross, reckon someone should keep animals locked well up when Pyotr visits the Captain!

Carrick - Good job with downing a Hun. Even if it did come at a cost of being shot up!

Tross - Hopefully last long enough to give the squadron more time to recover for real this time! Really is a shame, aye, but the war is far from over so maybe there'll be a chance yet. If Dean lives long enough for that anyway!
Good day for Jacob, succesfully dealing with those dastardly strutters and then a Niueport. Shame about the lack of confirmation of course, but what can you do sometimes. And there was no losses at that, so that's certainly a bonus! Great screenshots too!




2/LT Dean Andrews Cunningham
№64 Squadron RAF
Izles-Les-Hameux, Flanders
9th May, 1918.

4 confirmed, 2 pending


Today begun with the return of bad weather, but luckily for us all a new opportunity was presented to us in the form of Hayden announcing a slight change of pace for the fliers today. Instead of a typical patrol, we, or better said all three of us in the form of Hayden, Me and of course no one else but Lehman were to head up in a three-flight through the stormy weather over the Hun lines and then take down a balloon that has presented itself as a bit of a threat to our lads on the ground. I of course thought back to my previous balloon busting mission and thought how much of a letdown it was... I then considered that there would only be three of us and the weather was favourable for a sneaky mission. My mood was thus lifted, as to me this seemed like an opportunity to get myself another claim of a Hun aerial asset. Not a flyboy of course, but it would do...

The rest of the Squadron sent us off into the rainy morning sky and over into the overcast sky. We climbed for a while, keeping our small formation together, as hard as it was with the constant cloud interference, but eventually we found the right height and headed for the lines. The way there, all of us were on a constant lookout, Lehman no doubt looking for his pals while Hayden and me were looking for a reason to run off should one present itself. Thankfully, it did not come to this and the only thing we did sight was the Hun balloon, a distance below us. Satisfied with us finding our target, I ensured my guns were ready and dove towards it, cutting my throttle as I began to fire into it and then looped around at full throttle. Archie and machineguns started spraying into the sky, unhappy about my presence, but by the time they were even close I managed to let another long burst into the balloon, causing it to catch fire and start burning down while I pulled over and away. The balloon exploded behind me, much to my satisfaction, though in the joy of taking it down I had lost sight of Lehman and Hayden and couldn't find them anywhere with the weather being what it was. As such, I headed off back home and landed. The two others returned shortly after ,and I submitted my claim for the gasbag. Unfortunately, Hayden brought some annoyance as he told me that while he believed me fully, Lehman and he somehow lost sight of me right as the attack begun and didn't even sight the balloon and had to return home empty handed. Therefore, further confirmation would need to be requested...

Another opportunity of a similar degree presented itself in the afternoon, as now the entirety of the Squadron in B flight was called in again to attack the same spot, as the Huns had managed to hoist up another balloon to replace the one we downed this morning. I was optimistic, hoping to score myself another balloon though now there was more of my fellow airmen to contend with. The flight went very much the same, with a takeoff in the now much sunnier and clearer weather, and we got down to the observervation positions without issue. Sighting the balloon, the whole squadron dove down and we begun firing, with me being one of those in the lead. Just in seconds, the balloon ignited and blew under our collective gunfire, and we flew back home in spite of the ever angry archie trying to make us pay for what we've done. Landing home, I decided to chance it with submitting another claim, as I was one of the first few in the lead opening fire on it. Another airman, too, had decided to put in a claim so it appears it would be my word against his. I wonder who it'll be...

I haven't had time to get caught up with my reading, so I apologise for my lack of comments. I should have plenty of time for the next few weeks since I have managed to get my pilot out of action until early June!

War Journal of Captain George Ewan MacAlister, DSO, DSC
74 Squadron, RAF
22 Casualty Clearing Station
Bruay, France

Part 41



Distant Offensive Patrol. Such a benign-sounding name for such an unpopular show. For this was the name given to missions in which we were to trail our coats through the skies of darkest Hunland, enticing the enemy to attack us and thereby be destroyed. Of course it was not such a simple matter in practice. For one, the prevailing westerly winds carried as quickly behind the German lines but made it difficult to make our way home, especially if we were damaged or, worse yet, forced to glide back with a dud engine. For another, the Huns had taken to flying in larger and larger formations and it was seldom that we were able to meet them on equal terms. At best we could hope for two bone chilling hours more than three miles above the ground with nothing to show for it.

I had just returned to Clairmarais in time to miss lunch and get assigned to the DOP. My SE would follow by lorry, having been put down in a field near Armentieres. We had been on a balloon strafe when an Archie crump burst close beneath my machine and had caused a water and oil leak and dreadful vibrations. I switched off and crept painfully westward into the wind, needing every one of my 10,000 feet of altitude to find my own lines. Back at Clairmarais I had not even washed the oil off my face when Major Caldwell asked me to join B Flight for a DOP to the “back country” near Douai.

Mick Mannock led the flight and I flew on his left wing. We were approaching the lines near Loos when Mick waggled his wings and pointed ahead and downwards. A formation of five Rumplers was passing beneath us only a short distance ahead. I banked and began my dive, lining up the leftmost machine in my Aldis sight. The observers spotted us soon after we began our dive and began to fire when we were still out of effective range – the sign of a nervous neophyte, I thought. And that was when something smashed into my left leg. I use both hands to pull my left foot from the rudder as it was useless weight. There was a disconcerting amount of blood showing through a large gash in my flying boot. I felt lightheaded, a little queasy. I turned westward immediately and began a full throttle descent toward Bethune. The minutes ticked away as my SE crept slowly over the landscape toward our own lines. I saw the trenches pass beneath and picked out a broad field well back of the lines and close to a road crowded with troops. I would need help.

I do not remember the landing, although I am told it was well done. My next memory was finding myself in a pair of blue pyjamas in bed at 22 CCS near Bruay. I was dying of thirst, but the lone VAD on duty needed to get a doctor’s permission to bring me something. Finally she brought me a cup of strong, sweet, black tea. My leg was in some sort of harness and she explained that it was to hold it steady for the irrigation tubes.
Sometime later I was visited by a kindly and elderly doctor who informed me that the wound was ragged but had missed the bone. I had lost a great deal of blood apparently and had required a transfusion. It was 9 May, he told me, and I had been here for three days.

Will catch up with all your adventures on Monday. Here is Oliver's latest.
____________________________

À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 81



2 May 1918
No. 8 General Hospital
Rouen, France

I feel no bodily effects from the benzocaine attempting to kill me. By contrast, I explore new frontiers of the unquiet mind. My thoughts race wildly with no direction or purpose. Eliza was here! Where are these letters she spoke about? Are they casualties of war like those I wrote her during my training? What might she have said?

My left arm remains in a sling but the shoulder is merely a little sore. Nurse Jesse let me out of the ward this afternoon and we took a walk together about the grounds. No sign of my card playing companions from the other day.

Resumed inquiries with the Doctors regarding my return to squadron. I’m trying not to act too much the badger but suspect I’ve failed there.


4 May 1918
No. 84 Squadron RAF
Bertangles, France

Yesterday I convinced a medical board that I was ready to resume combat flying, or so I thought. They released me back to 84 Squadron but passed me fit only for light duties and no war flying until such time as my shoulder heals completely. I’ll need to pass another medical board down the line. Blasted Doctors! At least I’m out of the hospital. A quick goodbye to Nurse Jesse, who made me a promise to write.

The Maj sent the squadron Crossley. I was back in Bertangles early afternoon. Many changes during my 10-day absence.

With accompanying mechanics and riggers, an attached flight of five American pilots joined the squadron just after my wounding. Lts. A.F. Mathews, B. Oliver, M.L. Newhall, E.M. Hammer and S.B. Eckert.
Jack Sorsoleil has a Captaincy and command of B Flight. An excellent choice and one we all expected at the end of my refresher course here.
Robin Grosvenor’s MC came through on the 27th! We’ll need to christen his decoration properly since I missed the party.
Southey saw my Hannover crash. Major Douglas endorsed the combat report which Wing confirmed. One Hundred Thirty-four.

A small stack of correspondence awaited my return:

A note from Freddy listing his home address. He’s off on leave and tried to see me in hospital but went to No.1 in Etaples.
Another from Madame de Rochefort dated April 25th. She sent her daughters away and is sitting it out with M. du Guesclin. Cafe and L’Hotel remain undamaged.

The last was a telegram from Parker: New information - Nosey
That he didn’t put his proper name to it and that he sent it as a wire spoke both to a need for discretion and some urgency.


5 May 1918
No. 84 Squadron RAF
Bertangles, France

Major Douglas informed me last night that I would go on leave starting May 7th. He remained deaf to my protests.

“It’s the least I can do for you, Winningstad. Fine work you’ve done here on your refresher. 84 Squadron are much the stronger for it.”

No combat flying but I did convince the Maj that I could ferry an AC back from the No. 2 ASD in Rang du Fliers without killing myself and that my route home might go via Caffiers.

Stopped at the Post Office in Abbeville en route to send Freddy a telegram detailing my leave itinerary. I hope we can meet in London. Also sent a wire to the Royal Automobile Club requesting they reserve a room for me. Arrived at the Depot mid-morning to find a pristine looking SE5a waiting and ready. The low cloud ceiling, mist and rain made navigation difficult but after one missed landmark I reversed course and landed safely at Caffiers aerodrome, home of No. 54 Squadron.

All the old faces were still there amongst the NCOs and men of A flight. Mitchell, Johnson, Flt Sgt McDonald & Sgt Atwater. Mitchell and Johnson looked warily at the Factory SE5a.

Lunch with Major Maxwell and the squadron. The CO is the only officer I know, the rest being new men. Parker found me shortly before my departure. I didn’t know what to make of his revelation but it was not like Parker to overreact, nor would he resort to such dramatic measures as a telegram were he not gravely concerned.

“I mentioned a certain ZZ when last we met, sir. I believe there to be another involved in the matter you related, name of ‘ades.

“Hades? As in the God of the Underworld,” I replied.

“Yes, sir. That’s the chap. Not ‘eard the name before the war, and none of my, errr business associates ‘ad any dealings with ‘im, until recently that is. Reports of disappearances. Anyone getting too close to ‘ades just vanishes in the night. Most disturbing.

“I trust flying duties will keep you in France, sir,” he ventured hopefully.

“I leave for London in two days,” I said.

“Oh dear. In that circumstance, may I suggest, sir, that you keep a quiet profile and avoid the International.”

The modern-day pirate haven that was the International was never on my list of intended destinations, but staying out of sight in wartime London might be prove a greater challenge. Yet more strands in this damned web.



6 May 1918
No. 84 Squadron RAF
Bertangles, France

Last day with 84 Squadron. Telegram from Freddy. He will meet me at Folkestone tomorrow.

News of my impending leave caught everyone by surprise but the officers, NCOs and men of B Flight presented me with a box of Cuban cigars. I suspect the major may have donated one of his own. I am grateful for the gift, but much more so for the fierce bond of comradeship we shared this past month a half. Difficult to believe I’ve been with No. 84 squadron for a mere six weeks, but in that time, I’ve seen my most intense air fighting of the entire war.

10 men killed, wounded or missing. Johnson gone to 24 Sqn, Leask to hospital and Fred Brown to HE. Of those men I met in mid-March, half are gone. Only Proccy, Robin, Dingbat Saunders, Percy Hobson, Southey and Jack Sorsoleil remain. They will form the core of the new squadron.

“All risks to be taken. Urgent.” I know what that means now, and for the future. Gods protect us.
______________

A hastily arranged but nonetheless heartful celebration and farewell dinner. After much revelry, numerous toasts to his MC and a lively singsong by the assembled party, Robin and I walked arm in arm back to our hut singing the Song of 54 in full voice. Leaving 54 and 56 was painful but despite the shock and surprise of my sudden departure, I feel a certain satisfaction knowing that Major Douglas spoke truth when he said No. 84 were stronger for my presence.

I finish writing this entry after reading Smokey's latest letter, which arrived today. He got his wish at last. I hope the Old Bull keeps his head down.





7 May 1918
No. 84 Squadron RAF
Bertangles, France

As usual, 2/AM Knight drove like the wind and had me in Boulogne by 8.30. Waiting now to board the leave ship. Rain holding off and the channel coast looks to be clear.



(to be continued)

NR - Probably the best weather for Cunningham and 64 squadron to go flaming gasbags in order to avoid any unpleasant company from above. I find it hard to see how Hayden, even if he'd lost sight of you, didn't see a big orange and red explosion in the sky and if Lehman was with him, who else was it going to be.

I think if Cunningham put plenty of shots into that second balloon he's as entitled to claim as anyone else. At least all returned safely.

Raine - Ouch that sounds a very unpleasant wound for MacAlister and from flak at maximum range as well. Someone broke a mirror or was treading on too many cracks in the pavement. Thank heavens he had enough height to make it back, on both missions. Wounded is one thing, wounded and captured is another.

Epower - So Winningstad is out of that hospital at least and as seems to be the norm in 1918, even a few days away means just about everything had changed when he returned to the squadron, such is the pace of the war now.

Some leave in blighty won't be so bad and he's already arranged to meet Freddy and a room at the RAC where he's sure to meet up with many an ace.

MFair - Jacob is non discriminating when it comes to who he shoots down and yes the pace of war and where MFJ1 are situated seems to be funneling a lot of opportunities his way.

NR – 64 has had a hard time of it. How did Lehman managed to miss a burning balloon?

Kebab – I feel your pain for losing your account. I look forward to your next long one!

Fullofit – Pyotr is still adjusting to the Spad, it seems. That’s scrap with the triplanes that ended with the forced landing was a nailbiter.

Carrick – congratulations on your victory.

EPower – so Oliver is finally safe for a few weeks. Or at least as safe as the nefarious underbelly of London will allow him to be. Ripping good yarn!

Leutenant-zur-see Jacob Kühn
Marine-Feld-Jagdstaffel 1
Jabbeke airfield

27 confirmed kills

10th May 1918

Morning sortie

Jacob was in command for the morning sortie involving Kette Zwei. He gave the briefing as Oberleutenant Saschenberg had already left with Kette Eins.

He confirmed the patrol would be heading towards Passchendaele.

The weather was ideal again and as the airfield had had time to dry out now takeoffs and landings were far safer.

The patrol itself went without incident and all aircraft landed safely some 80 minutes later.


Afternoon sortie

Oberleutenant Saschenberg confirmed that the whole Jasta would be flying across to the lines south of Nieuwpoort once more. "We must keep the pressure on" confirmed Saschenberg.

The weather was still good although a few more clouds had appeared to hide enemy aircraft behind.

Jacob flew on Saschenberg's left as the formation formed and climbed up before heading out. They reached the lines without incident.

They were just turning south along the lines when Jacob, who happened to be looking down to his left, saw a German balloon suddenly explode in a ball of red flame.

He scanned around to see what had caused the explosion. He couldn't see anything but then, against the white backdrop of a large cloud formation he saw a dark silhouette of an aircraft.

He signalled, rolled over and dived down, but throttled back to slow his drop. He now saw what he was up against......SPADs.

Jacob glanced back and saw the whole of the Jasta now zooming with him towards the enemy.

Jacob picked a target, one of the SPADs was levelling out after climbing back up from the balloon attack. The Albatros raced downwards and the wires and struts shrieked at the limits of their strength.

Jacob fired into the SPAD which shuddered as the bullets struck and rolled away.

Jacob levelled off and came around, he saw his SPAD roll again and start a dive but just as he was virtually stationary. Jacob opened fire with a long accurate burst right into the cockpit of the SPAD.

The SPAD fell into a spin and spun all the way down into the ground.

Jacob took stock and saw several SPADs running for their lives. Two more were burning pyres in the mud.

Jacob spotted Oberleutenant Saschenberg nearby and formed up with him. Others joined and they headed home.

As well as Jacob, Schultz and Meyer got the other two SPADs and Saschenberg himself confirmed Jacob's as he saw everything. That brought Jacob's total to 28 kills.

Oberleutenant Saschenberg also confirmed that the presentation of Jacob's Hohenzollern House Order would take place tomorrow afternoon and Fregattenkapitän Prinz Adalbert would be here to present it as well as meet the Jasta.

Epic stories from the weekend Good going all

Henri N du Fay
Sgt
Esc Spa 94
Montagne, Aerodrome.

1 Victory Confirmed.
Mon Dieu they got me !

1st Light a ballooning we go. ,But Zee Bosche pulled it down by the time we got there the did leave a few fighters. Mine came head on as we started to reform at low altitude. I flipped over and made a firing pass, no hits ,but he swung on my tail and chased me all the way to my side of lines.

2nd Mission was and Escort for Esc 208 a lone Breguet 14 dropping bombs on an Inf Camp Trolling for fighters as a diversionary . We didnt have to wait long as the Air filled with dots all around us. Then they turned into e/a's diving and firing on us. I fire at a D-IIIa then a 3 wing got on me. 3 bursts later I heard a Crack then loud Noises and Fluttering the lower wing Spar was shattered. Almost out of control I hit hard in No Mans Land. Freeing myself from the straps, I ran/crawled to our side. Slipping into the trenches,. A polie Asked why I didnt Burn the flying machine ? All I could say was I didnt have any matches. Will be here as an enemy attack is in progress