Maybe not Lucky Charms, but perhaps … Trix?
Be afraid, very afraid!

.

More likely Shredded Wheat.

.

Cheerio-s!

Beware of the G O N G F A R I E He cant be happy squeezed into that "Tu Tu " . On the other hand, their are some that are nicely squeezed

NR - Cunningham did a good job on that strafing run, sticking with the CO and doubling the damage on each pass. He'll be making Lieutenant quickly with that type of decision making. But what a waste on the morning sortie, losing a man when the enemy is nowhere near. Congratulations on the MC, very much deserved.

Fullofit - A couple of dry runs for Pyotr there but he did his job. It's a good job the Breguets didn't spot those dots, if they're anything like the ones Jacob bumps into they'd have been in there before anyone could say "loonys". Well done on getting the Medaille Militaire, a pretty medal and well deserved.

Bling as far as the eye can see. Thank you Lou. Jacob is extremely grateful for the PLM. Maybe he'll get a couple of days in Brussels to go with the award.

Carrick - A good looking fairy indeed.

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

32 confirmed kills

16th May 1918

Morning sortie

Oberleutenant Saschenberg held the preflight briefing and explained that Kette Eins would be heading down towards Passchendaele and Saschenberg himself would be leading it.

The weather was perfect, clear blue skies and little wind. Jacob and the others took off and climbed up around Aertrycke airfield before heading out south.

All went without incident until they were near Passchendaele itself. Then, out of the clear blue, they clearly saw a formation of aircraft coming across the lines.

Saschenberg had seen them too and signalled to nose up. Jacob and the rest followed as the aircraft got closer. Jacob now saw what they were up against.... Camels and they had quite a height advantage on Kette Zwei.

Jacob nervously awaited the inevitable attack. Rather than a coordinated attack en masse however, the Camels seemed to dilly-dally and come down in dribs and drabs.

Jacob watched one who was circling behind him. He swung his Albatros around and nosed up as the Camel got nearer. Jacob avoided the attack and rolled down to follow the enemy aircraft.

The Camel dived and Jacob followed. The wires and struts were straining as Jacob raced down after the Camel.

The Camel now levelled off and rolled right but Jacob was expecting it and had started a roll already. Jacob fired and scored hits on the enemy who dived again.

Jacob stayed with him and peppered the Camel who now tried a run for the lines. Jacob was on him quickly however and put a long burst into him. The Camel lurched over and smashed into the ground.

Jacob levelled off and looked around. He couldn't see any other aircraft nearby. He climbed and made his way towards Passchendaele but found nothing. He therefore made his way home.

On landing two other Albatrosse were also landing and 10 minutes later three more arrived. They had followed the fleeing Camels for sometime before heading home.

Jacob made his claim but would have to wait for confirmation as no-one was nearby to confirm his Camel.


Afternoon sortie

Saschenberg again led Kette Zwei as they headed back towards the Ypres salient. The weather was still ideal and the formation climbed and headed south without incident but always keeping a keen eye.

It was this keen eye that led Jacob to spot several dots below him and coming across the lines. He signalled and Kette Zwei swung right and headed towards the dots.

Jacob was straining to identify the aircraft below, he now made out the red, white and blue of the french roundals and nosed down into a dive.

He saw that the enemy aircraft were SPADs and raced downwards. The SPADs however turned and ran! 'What was this' Jacob thought 'if they are rookies why are they crossing the lines?'.

One of the SPADs was someway behind the others Jacob saw and Jacob reckoned he could reach him before he reached the lines.

The SPAD helped him with this as he turned and headed towards Jacob. Jacob fired into the SPAD as he flew past and turned a tight turn to get onto the frenchman's tail. The high G turn squashed his stomach but it worked as he came out directly behind the enemy.

Jacob poured bullets into the SPAD who just seemed to hang in the air. Another burst tore the upper wing away from the SPAD who now spun uncontrollably down into the ground.

Jacob took stock and again saw nothing. The other SPADs were all way over the lines now and he could see no aircraft above although the burning sun didn't help this.

He made his way home and eventually the other Albatrosse arrived as well.

Again no-one else had seen Jacob's SPAD fall so he would have to wait for confirmation.

Saschenberg stated he had wanted to follow the SPADs before diving on them but once they made their way back across the lines he'd decide to make his way home with the rest of Kette Zwei.

Jacob explained that the SPADs were obviously intent on attacking something so he thought it best to prevent that attack by diving on to them, which had worked.

Later in the evening Jacob was called to Saschenberg's office.

"Another fine day for you Jacob, I can only hope your claims are confirmed by the local ground forces" said Saschenberg.

"I have other news for you too meine freund. I have just received word from the Kaiser's office in Berlin. The Kaiser has decided to award you the Orden Pour le Merite......der Blaue Max!" confirmed Saschenberg.

Jacob was stunned, after several moments he eventually said "I don't know what to say Gotthard".

"There is nothing to say Jacob, you have earned this award. Your performance today is a perfect example of why. You are quicker to react than the rest of us, your bravery is without boundaries, those SPADs could just have easily come after you. But your only thought was to stop their attack" said Saschenberg.

"Thank you Gotthard, had they attacked........" Jacob was just about to finish his sentence

"We would have dived in there with you" Saschenberg finished it for him.

"The details of the award are still to be sorted but as soon as I know I'll let you know too" said Saschenberg.

"Now join me in the kasino, I'm going to enjoy announcing this to the others" said Saschenberg with a broad smile.

Well well, awards all round I see!
RAF - Aha, thank you for the bling, oh Gong Fairy. Here's hoping that bling won't sting...!

Fullofit - Well, so long as he's making himself useful, he can be doing whatever! Useful to the 64th or Dean that is, not the Hun.
Certainly is an annoyance, but at least it isn't losing the wholes Squadron on another intercept. The Ack-Emmas might just be beyond saving, but at this point a doctor on stand-by is certainly gonna be needed, hah.
I don't think being fragged by own bombs would've been a pleasant experience for anyone involved. Thankfully that was avoided, at the cost of minimal damage resulting in mild renovation, I reckon.
I see Pyotr is also experiencing a lack of proper action. There's good and bad to that though I think Dean can somewhat agree. No proper Hun airmen anywhere. Maybe they should just start strapping motors to those balloons?
Also: Congratulations on the bling, well deserved for our friendly neighbourhood Russian airman.

Carrick - At least that fairy probably won't kill.

Tross - I reckon such a promotion can't come soon enough for Dean. He finally wouldn't have to take orders from rookie flight leads. Hopefully without it somehow clouding his judgement. It is a waste, but I suppose that's how it is sometimes, can't be helped. Cheers, reckon the MC oughta serve as a boost for Dean.
A good day for Jacob it seems! First that camel, and then the most bizarre cowardly SPADs! Great job on the kills, as expected of Jacob, and of course great shots. Congratulations on getting the PLM! Jacob truly has no trouble proving that he deserves such an award.








2/LT Dean Andrews Cunningham
№64 Squadron RAF
Izles-Les-Hameux, Flanders
16th May, 1918.

7 confirmed


A good day for me today, which at this point is becoming a somewhat rare statement with all the odd quirks and misfortunes that occur, or the constant lack of contact and boredom. The flights today too proved rather lackluster, one more exciting than the other though. As such, I shall keep it short. The main event of the day has only graced me in the evening after all the flying was done.

The morning flight was, unsurprisingly at this point, another balloon busting flight in a three man formation. Everyone else was either busy resting, preparing, or doing other patrols for which I had little care at that point. We got strapped in and flew over the lines, the weather almost perfectly clear and barely a cloud in the sky. That in itself could've been a problem, had any Huns chosen to show up and make sure we weren't up to anything bad, but as it stood no Hun had showed up, so we went on our mission undisturbed. Upon getting close enough to receive the occasional archie burst, I sighted the balloon and as per habit now had pushed my throttle up to full and dove, racing ahead of my flight who followed after. No doubt, each Flight Lead that takes me on such escapades grows annoyed, but what can they say when I end up delivering the obvious results they need. In maybe a minute I was on the balloon, firing an increasingly long burst into it when I saw flames and tried pulling up and over it. Unfortunately this time it seems my bullets had proved too effective, as the next thing I knew there was a bright flash, followed by a sense of intense heat and my craft being thrown upwards into my climb. Getting over the initial shock of nearly being turned into a fried potato and confirming that I was not in fact on fire, I came to the obvious conclusion: The damned thing exploded way earler than I anticipated, and instead of going off when I was clear of it, it instead blew right below me and nearly ate me up in a fireball. As unlucky or lucky that may have been though, I turned out fine and there was no way they would've denied my claim after that show. My crispy plane would be a good testament to that!

Afterwards, it was a simple and peaceful journey home with a bit of paranoia in regards to my plane possibly being damaged by the blast, but fortunately for me it endured and landed with no problems. Flight Lead confirmed the kill and told me I'm lucky to even be alive after that, which I had to agree with, but at the very least this action brought me up to my 7th. Still no luck with the Hun craft though... The next mission, an entire squadron's patrol of the friendly front lines proved as much, as we taken off into the still clear sky and spent half an hour or so flying around admiring the landscape, with nothing of note showing up and then headed home, this time with no losses.

It was this an hour or so after we landed that Hayden called me over into his office to discuss something. I was expecting some kind of talk about the dangers of playing with balloon fire, but instead I left pleasantly surprised with news of an award! He himself was in a cheerful mood, and seemed almost proud as he explained that my mildly reckless but also lucky endeavours had in fact been most pleasing and even commendable. As such, I was recommended for and deemed worthy of receiving myself a Military Cross. To say that I felt just pleased would be an understatement, as it was most nice to know that my efforts have been recognized and that all my misfortunate collisions and near woundings that I've suffered were not for nothing. Of course, a medal does not make an airman, but it was nice to have nonetheless. Later in the evening, a more formal ceremony was arranged in which I was properly decorated, which also was rather nice. I was happy, the lads were happy, the Mechanics, too, were almost happy had they not been looking awful exhausted and grumpy from that. Hell, even Lehman seemed more happy than usual. Whether or not all this happiness was for me personally or due to the presence of alcohol and the ensuing celebration, I do not know.

What followed was a good night of food, some drink and a sense of realisation that I probably should soon write a letter to home, lest this gets mentioned in the Gazette and the folk home start wondering just why I've not written anything to them. Overall, a good day.

15th May 1918
Feldwebel Albrecht Bernhard Schutzmeier
JG III, Jasta 27
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders.
Operation Blucher und Yorck
5 confirmed kills, 1 pending.

Luckily the weather was a bit better than yesterday, and we managed to fly 2 sorties.

1st Flight
As it’s becoming rather usual, we had to support our ground forces by providing air cover from possible enemy air strikes. Nothing seemed to be happening. as we saw (as we usually do these days) enemy fighters engaging another Jagdstaffel. We didn’t hesitate to join in, as we wanted our slice of cake. I kept myself rather distant this time, as I overlooked a few of my guys engaging the already outnumbered Scouts. Well I was getting quite bored, so I dived in onto an enemy crate that was engaging another Dreidecker. I’m quite unsure about the already given structural damages, but a 1 second burst ripped its upper wing in half. I couldn’t recognize the squadron, and when I shot it down there were no witnesses around. Well I can’t do much but hope for my claim.

2nd Flight
Another local forces support. Same usual dilly-dally, with no enemy machines being spotted this time.


16th May 1918
Feldwebel Albrecht Bernhard Schutzmeier
JG III, Jasta 27
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders.
Operation Blucher und Yorck
6 confirmed kills.

Against all my expectations, yesterday’s claim was accepted! I was rather confused, but something came to mind as I noticed Klimke winking after Goring had confirmed the kill.

1st Flight
Yet again Goring told us about a ground forces support sortie. The sky today was clear as a water drop. On our first pass above the patrol area, we spotted 3 two-seaters hovering below us. Unfortunately my engine was acting rather weirdly, as I noticed a couple of RPM drops that I should’ve took as a warning. Anyways, I didn’t engage at first, and as I saw one of the RE8’s going down, and after noticing how 2 of my men had fallen, I was convinced I needed revenge. Instead of going back with the others, I followed the retreating planes, way above their airfield. It didn’t take much for one of them to roll on its side and shoot a burst that had hit my fuel tank. It wasn’t long until I was completely drained. I took the best spot I saw, which was a tiny green strip of grass directly next to the local river, in the hope of falling behind enemies’ eyes. Unfortunately, a squad of infantrymen were in the roundabouts and they got me captive. They seem rather uninterested in holding me there, though, so I count on managing to escape. Who knows what will happen? Also I’m quite sure I lost my dear crate. I’ll take this time to think about a new paintscheme, then.





PS: I forgot to take pictures! Apologies...

Albert, true enough. If those Bréguets had spotted them, those dots would have been in deep doo-doo. Pyotr would definitely just stay up and watch.
Agh! More Camels. Good thing Jacob has no problems keeping up with them. That was some nice flying - anticipating enemy’s move and finishing him off. How do you deal with the bloody things getting lost against the terrain? Then that SPAD, catching one that is hellbent on running away is no small feat. Well done on downing them both and now we wait for the confirmations.
Congrats on latest victories and the coveted PLM. That is one piece of jewelry Marguerite will be impressed with.

NR, the proper action will come soon enough. For now one has to satisfy himself with shooting down fat sausages and hoping someone, somewhere had noticed this inconspicuous explosion. The tactic seems to work well for Dean. But definitely some scout to scout action would be a welcome distraction from firing at stationary targets. One could forget how it’s done with all these balloon busting missions.
So, another three-man formation to get the balloon. Did you notice that number gets reduced to only three, even though the original number of pilots slotted for the mission in the previous screen is greater? I think this could be a bug (or a feature - depending on how you look at it). I had that a few times and I was curious whatever has happened to the rest of the pilots, so I exited back to the squadron screen and there they all are, all of them A Flight and B flight chock full of pilots, not just the three that get to go on the mission. The corker is that if you actually click on B Flight, there’ll only be two pilots (plus you) that are assigned to the balloon busting mission. Very odd. I thought it was only to my pilot, but now I see it’s a “normal” thing.
Congrats on the Military Cross. The Gong Fairy is looking over your shoulder.

Kebab, congrats on the gong and the latest confirmed kill. One of many to be sure. Good luck with planning the escape.

16 May, 1918 05:45 morning mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov
SPAD VII
4 confirmed kills

The pilots were awaken to the sound of the air raid klaxon early in the morning. Everyone scrambled to grab their gear and reach their machines as quickly as possible. There was general confusion during the take off. Many pilots couldn’t decide who should take off first. Some jumped the queue, realized it wasn’t their turn and stopped quarter of the way down the airfield. Despite that, everyone was finally able to take off but that was all the excitement for that mission. They were unable to find any enemy planes approaching the field. The escadrille circled their aerodrome for a while a returned back to ground for some much needed additional sleep.

YouTube Link



16 May, 1918 10:05 morning mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov
SPAD VII
4 confirmed kills

It was another visit to Champien airfield on the other side of the mud. It seemed like a déjà vu to Pyotr when he was approaching the airfield. A familiar sight of airplanes about to takeoff. He lined them up but before he could pull the trigger the enemy planes began to roll on the field. Smirnov was able to only catch the last Hannover on the ground. After his initial pass he quickly banked for another go, but the Hun was already taking off. There was nothing more but to chase it down. Pyotr quickly closed the distance to the climbing two-seaters. He peppered the trailing one and thought it was going to crash, but wasn’t sure, because the bugger perforated Pyotr’s radiator and the Russian had to quickly gain some altitude across the lines to sail down onto a field on the other side after the engine ceased. Thankfully it wasn’t far from La Cense aerodrome, where he was able to get some help, had his mount repaired and returned to Hétomesnil before the next mission.

YouTube Link



16 May, 1918 14:30 afternoon mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov
SPAD VII
4 confirmed kills
Awaiting one claim confirmation

The late afternoon show was sent to patrol friendly front lines north of Noyon. The B Flight picked up a flight of Rumplers going home south of Amiens. They followed them and each SPAD picked one enemy machine and proceeded to swat it out of the sky. Pyotr watched each member of his flight go after a different plane. By the time he caught up with his target another SPAD barged in and began to shoot at Smirnov’s target, after taking care of his own two-seater earlier. When that SPAD had his turn Pyotr sent a volley of his own and most likely took the bomber out as it began to spiral towards the ground trailing a plume of dark smoke. Smirnov’s joy however was short lived as the other SPAD pilot finished the enemy off by firing a final burst. Smirnov was in dire need of a dog or a cat at this very moment.
After returning to base Pyotr was called into le Capitaine’s office. He was presented by d’Indy with le Médaille Militaire. This considerably softened the blow of a poached victory. (Great timing Gong Fairy!)

YouTube Link

Great stories gents to go with my Coffee.

NR - A good job on the balloon even if Cunningham did get a little cooked. It's always a risky ride taking the gasbags on. A pleasant evening helped calm him down though to celebrate his MC.

TWK - Well done on Shutzmeier downing that aircraft. Ultimately it was he who tore his wing off so a fair claim indeed and Goering must have thought so too. Always risky taking two seaters on from above and over enemy lines too. Let's hope Shutzmeier can shed his shackles.

Fullofit - Pyotr took a risk diving on those Hannovers and nearly paid the price, thankfully he managed to get over the lines. Then to have his kill potentially snatched from his grasp by a grasping comrade! How very dare he. Those poor pets, they deserve a medal too. Thankfully the arrival of some nice bling saved them from an almost certain sore ribcage. Jacob certainly has plenty to tell Marguerite, a promotion and two pretty awards since they met.

NR – congratulations on the MC. It was very well deserved.

Kebab – Schutzmeier is doing splendidly. Good job at avoiding capture.

Lou – brilliant job once again with the gong artistry. And thank you for keeping me up-to-date. I just went back in to get caught up and see that you have already been, gone, and left your mark! Your contribution is magnificent once again.

Albert – Jacob’s count is climbing into the mid thirties. He will have to get a Sanke card framed for Marguerite!

Fullofit – That Rumpler was such a beautiful piece of marksmanship it was a sin not to get credit. Who was the cad in the Spad?



War Journal of Captain George Ewan MacAlister, DSO, DSC
74 Squadron, RAF
Larnach Hospital for Wounded Officers
Hove (Brighton), Sussex

Part 43



After so many days off my feet, I should have preferred not to stand for much of the voyage from Dieppe to Folkestone, but the influence of weather could not be overlooked. The winds were stiff, the seas were high, and our none-too-large leave boat heaved and rolled mightily. I stayed indoors for only the first half-hour and then a mild uneasiness and my stomach drove me to fresh air. On deck, the wind lashed my face with rain. A thousand yards off, a dazzle-painted destroyer dipped out of view amid the seas, emerging seconds later with its prow high in the air. Already the railings were lined with soldiers sick to their stomachs, each of whom communicated with the sea gods while spraying his companions just aft of his station. I made my way to the stern where I thought the spray might pass by on either side. I stared down at the churn from the propellers. One moment the black-green sea was nearly within reach and the next moment it had disappeared far below, only to surge back upwards with a crash of salty spray. My fine Dieppe breakfast departed, then my coffee, then little more than retching drool.

The man next to me, a Glaswegian, was praying for death in the most piteous way. “Aah Goad… Oh ma Goad… In the name of the wee man… Take me now… Oh Kaiser Bill, ye b*stard…” And so it continued.

I managed to hold myself upright by the railing for about three hours, and then I staggered a few feet across the slippery deck to a hatch cover where I laid myself down in the rain to await my fate. I woke sometime later to find the ship steady and the sun reaching through the clouds. We were in port. A voice on a klaxon was saying something about a Stationary Hospital and I made myself known. In place of my expected train trip, I was laid on a stretcher and loaded into one of a line of eight fine motor ambulances. I shivered in my sodden clothes and gave myself over to the experience. The doors were left open and the interior of the ambulance warmed with the sun. Another stretcher was loaded on, this one bearing an army officer with much of his head and bandages. “We’ve drawn a high card, they tell me,” he said to me.

And so it seemed, for after an hour’s drive we were unloaded in front of a beautiful cream-coloured house facing the seaside and carried into a bright hallway to be greeted by a cheerful woman who described herself as Mrs Nevill and who was clearly in charge. The entire house had been converted into a hospital for officers, complete with operating theatre and reading rooms. I was carried to a bright and cheerful ward that was home to two other gentlemen, a Lieutenant Sarsen of the Royal Artillery and a Captain Mowbray of the Oxfordshire and Buckinghamshire Regiment. A nurse and VAD pulled the curtain around my bed and stripped off my uniform. I was desperately embarrassed to receive a sponge bath and a change into blue pyjamas but felt like a new man afterward. Next, an elderly doctor visited and inspected my wound. He stated that the final drainage tube might come out tomorrow and ordered me a stick to walk with. I was directed to spend as much time on my feet as I felt able to. Sarsen and Mowbray suggested we head for the reading room on the main floor and have some tea. I enquired of them where I might go to send a telegram. The post office was a little distance away, they told me, but it was normal to be taken for walks in the morning and I should be able to request a few minutes to send a telegram.

I learnt that Mrs Guy Nevill, the superintendent of this comfortable hospital, was the daughter in law of Lord and Lady George Nevill of Hove, who had already started a hospital in town for shellshocked officers. Not to be outdone by her husband’s parents, Mrs Guy Nevill had prevailed upon her father to fund this place and a local man of substance lent the property for this use.

The day had cleared, and I watched out the window as waggons, motor-cars, and bicycles paraded past on the broad boulevard between our hospital and the beachfront. The water glistened and a lone destroyer steamed eastward a few miles off. Somewhere in the distant haze lay the coast of France and somewhere father yet lay the broad field and gentle curve of Bessonneau sheds that marked the home of 74 Squadron. The second patrols of the day would already be aloft. I sipped my tea and watched specks of dust dancing in the sunbeam over the writing desk in the corner. The suspicion of guilt mixed smoothly with a sense of utter relaxation.

Raine - Oh dear, so MacAlister is no seadog. It did sound like a rough trip across the channel. Sounds like the leg is almost fixed so hopefully some strengthening and a bit of R and R and he'll be back in action quite soon.

17th May 1918
Feldwebel Albrecht Bernhard Schutzmeier
JG III, Jasta 27
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders.
Operation Blucher und Yorck
6 confirmed kills.

During the night I slipped off the platoon that was holding me captive. I followed the river as I knew for a fact I'd be headed towards my aerodrome. Morning soon came, and I was in the small part of No Man's land that had been left untouched; the fighting was all up north from my position.
As I was walking, I noticed a black spire of smoke coming from very close. I decided to investigate, and what did I find if not Nowack's crashed Dreidecker? As I got closer, I noticed a British soldier hanging by, and I saw he was ripping pieces of cloth from the machine and Nowack's uniform. I was enraged. I could've understood a piece of cloth from the aircraft, if he had happened to shoot him down. But an infantryman? Unrightfully taking advantage of a fallen one? I pulled out my Luger, toggled the safe and coldly told the soldier:"Geh von ihm runter, du schmutziger Brite." As I took a shot at his back. I was blinded from anger, I couldn't accept a guy dishonoring a carcass like that. I took what he had ripped from Nowack's havings and I put them in my pocket. Later I felt a deep sense of guilt invading me. That soldier was just like me, a young lad fighting for a war he didn't choose to fight. Thinking of bringing an interesting souvenir to his family once the war was over. I puked. I stopped by the river, drank a couple of drops of water and after I had coped with what I had done I went back on my feet for Halluin.
I arrived on our side of the front that evening, and I got myself in a truck heading back behind the lines. I then "borrowed" a bike from a close village and I got back at my airfield. Everybody was surprised of the sight of me, except Rudolf. He told me he was sure I would've managed to get back, one way or another.
As I reported to Hermann, I gave him the "trophies" from Nowack. "He was a good lad." I said. "Indeed he was, Albrecht. Now go rest, don't think I'll give you a pass for a leave. Tomorrow you'll be back flying as usual; you've been given a new Fokker, be sure to take care of her."
I drank a good pint of beer (maybe two) as me and Rudi took some time to paint my new kite. I've met a great deal of a nurse as they were checking me after I came back; her name is Isabelle.

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

32 confirmed kills (2 awaiting confirmation)

17th May 1918

Morning sortie

Jacob had finished his breakfast and was sorting his laundry out, he was daydreaming out of his dusty window. The skies were clear again azure blue. The sun was already warming up.........suddenly the airfield alarm sounded.

Jacob grabbed his flying gear and ran out of his quarters. Nearby flak was already firing and Jacob ran for his aircraft which was lined up on the airfield with the others.

Several other pilots were doing the same and suddenly the air was full of Mercedes engines roaring into action.

Jacob was the first in the air and started climbing. He looked up and saw several aircraft high up over the airfield. They didn't drop any bombs though which puzzled Jacob 'where are they headed' thought Jacob.

He recognised the boxed shape as Breguets. Several other Albatrosse were now airborne and as Jacob glanced up again he saw one of the enemy aircraft roll and dive down towards them.

As the Breguet plunged down he tried to get on Jacob's tail but Jacob rolled away with ease. As the Breguet went underneath him the frenchman was jumped by the other Albatrosse. Jacob looked up and saw the remaining Breguets now heading back towards the lines.

He decided against trying to climb up after them and instead rolled to see how the other pilots were doing.

They were tearing the poor Breguet to pieces. Jacob decide against joining in, it was congested enough as several Albatrosse dived and zoomed onto the hapless frenchman.

Eventually the Breguet simply fell out of the sky and plunged into the ground.

Everyone landed safely although a couple of Albatrosse had received hits.

Jacob had the 'pleasure' of listening to several pilots arguing about who was claiming the fallen Breguet. After much talk the honour went to Friedrich Wagner.


Afternoon sortie

Jacob led the afternoon mission which involved Kette Zwei heading down to Ypres. The weather was still excellent and the sun was blazing high in the sky as Kette Zwei took off and climbed up.

All went well for the southern leg of the patrol and they reached Ypres without incident. They patrolled around without seeing anything and started their way back.

They were about halfway home when Jacob saw flak bursts high up over to the right. He focussed hard and now saw several black dots heading back towards the lines.

He signalled to the others and now identified the aircraft as Camels. Where they'd been Jacob had no idea but he was intent on them not getting home.

The Camels had now seen Kette Zwei and started descending down towards Jacob and the others. Jacob nosed up ready to face them.

The two groups collided with a blaze of gunfire and Jacob saw one Camel break up straight away under the guns of several Albatrosse. Jacob himself rolled and came around behind one of the Camels. The Camel dived down but Jacob stayed with him.

They headed down towards the ground. Jacob exuded patience and waited for the Camel to level out. As soon as he did Jacob blasted him with both barrels.

The Camel slowed and Jacob finished him off with a burst right into the cockpit. The Camel nosed down and crashed into the ground.

Jacob levelled off and looked around. Several other Albatrosse were nearby and they formed up. Two Camels had run for the lines and Jacob was content to let them go.

They headed home and on landing Jacob found that four Camels had been downed. Hans Goerth was able to confirm Jacob's victory as he had seen it all.

Later on Oberleutenant Saschenberg called Jacob to his office.

"Jacob, congratulations on your victory today, it is a fine day for you meine freund. Your two claims from yesterday have been confirmed too. It seems the ground units in the area were only too happy to find your wrecks" said Saschenberg.

Those three brought Jacob's total to 35.

Saschenberg continued "I also have details of your Pour le Merite. You've been ordered to Brussels, i'll be going with you. The Kaiser himself is visiting the brass there and has decided to make the presentation himself."

"The Kaiser himself? When are we going?" asked Jacob.

"Next week....we've both got two day passes on the way" said Saschenberg with a smile.

Jacob could barely contain his delight. 'Two days in Brussels, I wonder if Marguerite would be interested in that development' thought Jacob to himself.

He needed to write that letter.

Henri N. duFay
94 Spa Esc
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector

1 Victory


May 17, 1918.

Balloon Defense : No contact

Line Patrol: Ran into Zee Boche a Jasta full slightly lower. We player follow the leader in attack breaking the e/a into smaller groups A furball. Spotted 1 e/a in flames then chased one but got cut off by a fellow Spad driver . Turning around I was alone so nosed down for Home at full speed.

Esc claimed 1 destroyed for 3 damaged. None for me.

Geez, as usual, I have some catching up to do! This campaign has really taken off for the final months.

Feldwebel Ludwig Kemp
Jasta 56
May 17, 1918
9 confirmed victories

Jasta 56 has had a rough month. Just enough pilots and ready machines to take to the air. Kemp had scored a few victories since returning from hospital. The enemy seems to be all over their sector. The fights are wild melees with life on a razors edge. First on Kemp’s mind while not in the air is Mia. While the weather was dud, he had spent 2 nights in Roulers with her. To say he was smitten would be the understatement of the year. He was head over heals in love.

Kemp could feel his consciousness returning. As his vision cleared he could see Mia’s face. She had the look of someone who had seen too much. Now he was confused! Where was he? As he looked around he realized he was back in the hospital. Then the memory of the morning came back. His flight was attacked by SE’s right after take off. It was the usual dodging and twisting. Pot shots as one crossed in front of him. He had dove to treetop level and hit one with a long burst. The SE had wobbled. He hit it again and again. Finally it rolled over towards the ground and in the next instant he was hit in the leg. He sat his machine down immediately as he could not move his left leg. He had been taken to a field hospital where a doctor had sewn the artery that was nicked. He had lost a lot of blood.
Kemp heard a familiar voice. It was his friend Beckman. “So your not done for yet young man!” Kemp smiled slightly and looked back at Mia. “No, not yet” he replied. Beckman continued, “Your SE is confirmed! Your moving up fast for a young pup!” Kemp closed his eyes as a wave a pain from his leg went through his body. Beckman put his hand on Kemp’s shoulder. “I must get back. I can see you are in good hands” he said as he left.
Mia wiped his forehead with a damp cloth. “Get some rest my love.” Kemp smiled weakly.

Kebab - On one hand, congratulations on the bling, on the other hand what a misfortune with being shot down and almost captured, though at least your man not only escaped but managed to stumble upon a looter at such a perfect time. Schutzmeier really oughta not dwell on it for too long though. Killing is killing in the end. Airman or infantryman, it's killing all the same.

Fullofit - Dean has indeed been getting into quite a steady place with all those balloon busting missions, the fact that they've worked out so far is certainly a good one though. Racking up claims and kills. Would've been a shame to end up dying or being captured on one of those.
As a matter of fact, I did notice that, though I did not give the thing much thought as I had assumed it was just intentional design. I guess with Balloon Busting being a special mission type, the overall flight composition is generated by the game first and only then does it actually decide if its a normal mission or not and then generates accordingly.
Cheers, and as for the Gong Fairy. One can only pray Dean can ward it off without anything happening to him.
Pyotr's misadventures with two seaters continue, I see! Most unfortunate about that one kill stealing SPAD, and being forced to land too. Those things sure are sturdy and formidable when it comes to it, huh? And of course another one of those pointless scrambles where the enemy is gone before you're even up in the air, wouldn't be a good week of flying without one of those!

Tross - The celebrations and receiving an award/confirmation certainly was reward enough to justify almost making a BBQ out of the plane!
Ah, the joy of hearing arguments over claims! Surely there's no experience more joyful than that, besides maybe having to argue over a claim yourself?
Congratulations on the confirmed kills, and an even bigger congratulations on the opportunity that has presented itself to Jacob! Looking forward to reading about how the awarding and the trip to Brussels is going to go!

Raine - Cheers!
Ah, bad weather out at sea is certainly in no way helping neither the mood nor the health it seems! Understandably so of course. But now that he's at shore, hopefully the recover goes smoothly and quickly enough!

Carrick - Well, always another day for shooting down a Boche!

MFair - Most unfortunate about the injury, but congratulations on the confirmation! In the end, better wounded than dead! Besides, if Mia is there then I'm sure that makes it all the more better.






2/LT Dean Andrews Cunningham
№64 Squadron RAF
Izles-Les-Hameux, Flanders
17th May, 1918.

8 confirmed


Waking up this morning, I was quite frankly surprised that I did not wake up in a ditch or strapped to an aircraft after the night of celebration last night. No hangover either, so thank the Lord for that, as it certainly would've interfered with all the flying that was scheduled for today. Hayden had, probably still under some influence, made a bit of a big deal out of how now that we were practically at full strength, we would do well to demonstrate this to both our neighbouring squadrons and the Huns themselves. That, anyway, was his attempt at getting us all in the proper mood, which I did not particularly mind as I have been itching for a fight myself. This morning's patrol into the Hun lines I reasoned would've been a good opportunity for both Hayden's plans and my own.

Unfortunately it did not turn out that way, as our full squadron took off, climbed and crossed the lines, only to be greeted by a fearsome armada of Huns as far as the eye could see, who we of course heroically shot down, to the applause of the King himself-... Who am I kidding, of course. The only thing that greeted us during that patrol was the lightest bit of Archie and empty blue skies as far as the eye could see. In the end the only thing we achieved was putting on a formation fly-past for all the Hun gunners on the ground. Thus, with mild disappointment and perhaps relief to some we turned and simply headed for home, thankfully landing with no crashes.

This was meant to be the end of our flying for today, as Hayden wanted to keep the machines secure for further operations and due to a lack of any further orders, though this wasn't meant to be either. The Boches, clearly impressed by our own earlier fly-past decided to send their own in the form of bombers straight to our field, to which we were alarmed just minutes before they arrived and got to take off right as they came over our base. In an almost usual manner of things, I was expecting for this to end with that, as most of these scrambles do, and seeing the Hun run off but surprisingly this did not happen. One of the Hun flights did split and head for home, as we almost expected but another flight of Hannovers decided to stay and keep on trying to attack our field. I certainly wasn't complaining, as we started climbing towards them and they waited and lingered still, probably deciding they want to try their luck. Fine by me...

During the climb our flight ended up somewhat splitting apart with people opting to take their own targets, and I eventually settled for a Hannover that was practically over me, and maybe only a few hundred meters above. It only took a minute or so before I was on him, climbing upwards in full throttle and opening fire on him. The Hun of course seen me coming and started evading, and thus we began our game of trading blows. I done my best to attack him at angles where he wouldn't get a shot off, but failing that I simply threw my craft against him, trading bullets with the gunner and praying that one of them would hit the man himself. This unfortunately wasn't so, and after two or so minutes my craft was shot up to the point where it had begun to heavily sway on the left wing, I wasted two entire Lewis drums, several grazes from the bullets tore my suit, cracked my goggles and the Hun was still somehow holding on, though now far slower and clearly wounded.

Not a particularly thrilling situation to be in, I thought, but we were still far behind friendly lines and the Hun despite his own wounds seemed quite eager and even capable of getting away. In a move that some may probably would call rather careless and almost suicidal I opted to continue my attack after loading up my final Lewis drum, not wanting to let all of this prior fighting to be for nothing, even at great risk to myself. I dove and shot at the Hun again and then again, his gunner barely returning fire as I figured he may have very well been killed by now, or at least bleeding out. Determined to bring him down for good, I continued my assault with renew vigour, using the left sway of my craft to my own advantage for a faster and tighter turn as I kept on shooting. Thinking back to it, such moves could've very well torn off my wing, but in the heat of the moment I only seen opportunity which I took. Finally, after another good minute of dives I went on another pass, firing a prolonged burst when all of a sudden the Hannover's wing snapped and went flying, violently jerking the craft into a spiral to the ground! I nearly blacked out pushing my craft out of the way of all the debris and levelled out, watching the craft plummet towards the ground and eventually crash right on the field of a nearby aerodrome. Reckon they wouldn't have been happy about this trash on their field, but that wasn't really my problem in the end.

With extra care I flew a short distance back home and landed, now more aware of the injuries my craft and wings sustained. The mechanics were just as unhappy tonight as they usually are these days, as by the time everyone came back they would have 5 machines to fix up before we were back at flying full squadron strength again... My claim has of course been confirmed, as everyone in the vicinity has seen my duel with the Hannover and how I sent him crashing. That brought my total up to 8, all at the price of 5 shot up machines and a single dead pilot over in A flight who unfortunately got taken out by one of the Hannover gunners. I spent the night pondering the strength of those Hun two seaters and the apparent weakness of our own guns at bringing them down, along with the bizarre lack of Hun scouts to be seen...

Albert, Pyotr figured he can do more damage to those two-seaters than the canvas on those hangars. You can’t stitch back a burning wreck.
There’s definitely much Jacob and Marguerite could discuss together. I’d rather like Kühn try to dissuade the nurse from volunteering to a frontline posting.
Madness I tell ya, madness! All those bombers think they’re scouts. What is this world coming to? Good call on staying away from the melee where all it takes is one pilot too keen to down the enemy and instead taking out his Kamerad.
So, more Camels, eh? Nothing new for Jacob. Wait for one to fly into your gunsights and squeeze the trigger. Done and done. Congrats on all these confirmed claims. Someone at HQ must like our hero. And yes, that letter is begging to be written finally. Time to do something about it.

Raine, if Pyotr ever finds out who was that cad in the SPAD, he will make that lad extremely sad.
So, George finally found out why he’s in the Navy but not on a boat and it only cost him his breakfast. Looks like there’ll be plenty of time for MacAlister to relax while feeling guilty. Perhaps a visit from Bronwyn will take the edge off?

Kebab, that was too easy. Were all the guards sleeping? Those Tommies will never win the war this way. Glad Schutzmeier found his way back home.

Carrick, those cads in their SPADs, stealing Henri’s glory.

MFair, we can all see why Kemp isn’t keen on getting back to the war too quickly. For all we know, he could await the armistice in that hospital. Congrats on the confirmed SE.

NR, yes, I’ve noticed Dean “volunteers” for these dangerous balloon missions. He will be a legend in no time.
I would agree with you it could be a “feature”, except those three pilots remain even if the mission generator assigns a different mission. Oh well, got to live with it I guess.
As for Pyotr he takes good with the bad. Like these missions to attack same aerodrome over and over. Still, better than the useless scramble missions.
Speaking of which, there was one Dean won’t forget too soon. Perhaps even keep away from those Hunnish Hannovers. It really could have gone either way, especially with Cunningham’s wing already with significant damage. In the end he proved that he is not just a balloon buster, but a wing buster as well. Well done on getting some action and getting it confirmed as well.
Now, what’s this about no hungover after a party you can’t remember? Perhaps you just don’t remember the hungover?
And sometimes it is nice to show the enemy what a squadron looks like at full strength. This parade over their airspace probably made a few pants filthier.


17 May, 1918 06:45 morning mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov MM
SPAD VII
5 confirmed kills

The Hannover shot down near Champien aerodrome has been confirmed. Pyotr was an ace now.
The HQ had some score to settle with the occupants of Champien aerodrome and ordered another attack. Smirnov was told to attack the hangars this time instead of chasing after taking off airplanes. He followed the rest of the flight in and performed a few strafing runs on the hangars, but none of them were showing any signs of damage. Not even one bullet hole. With this pointless exercise complete they returned to base.

YouTube Link



17 May, 1918 11:30 noon mission
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Sergent Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov MM
SPAD VII
5 confirmed kills

The damage done to the airfield in the morning was deemed insufficient. HQ decided to send SPA 67 boys to rectify the situation. Was it a wise decision to attack the enemy airfield twice in a row? The enemy would definitely never expect it. After arriving over their target they’ve begun their attack. It didn’t take long to attract the attention of nearby enemy patrol. Blast it! Why did it have to be Triplanes!? By some miracle Smirnov found himself behind one of the devils and began to fire at it. He probably would have gotten him too were it not for the Boche’s wingman who arrived to help. Pyotr could not, would not fight two of them. Instead he decided that was all the good he could do here and decided to get back to his own side.

YouTube Link



Once on the French side of the mud he noticed one of the Dreideckers had followed him across, with another SPAD just behind. Smirnov liked those odds and turned his plane around to face the foe. Together with his squadron mate they began to hunt the Hun. Hunt was too strong of a word for what they were able to mount against the enemy machine. Finally Pyotr had the Boche in his sights and commenced his barrage. The “onslaught” did not last long as Smirnov’s Vickers ran dry. With his tail between his legs Pyotr skulked away leaving the other SPAD to deal with the enemy. After landing in foul mood he was told his machine was too badly damaged to participate in the afternoon raid. In his frustration Pyotr kicked a nearby bucket with used motor oil, spilling most of it on his trousers.

YouTube Link

TWK - So Shutzmeier managed to get away and find a path through the front lines, good show. A shame about the looting soldier, but he was asking for it. If not for the looting then for the fact he'd forgotten where he was and why he was there..... soldiering. Keeping your wits about you at all times whilst on active service is a basic rule. He didn't, and paid the price.

Carrick - A couple of run-in's with the Hun for Henri but without success, other than staying safe, which is a big success.

MFair - Ouch, Kemp was lucky not to bleed out with that one and lucky too to find such a pretty nurse to mop his brow. He's going to need more than a mopped brow though with that wound. Well done on the downed aircraft though.

NR - So Cunningham had a hangover on his first outing and downed a Hannover on his second. There is something poetic in that. Probably best he didn't run into anything first time out and the flak would have cleared his thoughts. He was a raging bull on that second sortie though, he was not letting that one go. Great screenshots too.

Fullofit - A frustrating day for Pyotr, that's what you call sod's law. On the day you've wasted most of your ammo shooting up an airfield, a tasty target in the form of a overenthusiastic Triplane passes him by for want of ammo. Such a shame. Then he goes and gets oil all over himself. The only creatures who enjoyed that were the pets.