Albert, a quiet day for 2nd Ltn Wilson. Aces need days like this too. Recuperate and regenerate. It also gives them more time to drink I think.

Kebab, a successful engagement with the Strutters. Keep an eye on those. They can certainly spoil the day. SPADs shouldn’t give you any trouble.

Raine, what good is a second MG if you can’t see what you’re shooting at? I am also not so sure anymore that the SPAD can out-dive even a Dreidecker. It is a terrible plane to fly. Yay on making it all the way to 600 pages! (601 now)

25 May, 1918 08:00
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Adjutant Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov MM
SPAD XIII
10 confirmed kills

Pyotr was left with a bitter taste in his mouth after Capitaine d’Indy informed him only one of the red and blue Albatroses could be confirmed. He really couldn’t expect more with no witnesses around to see him battle the Huns.
It was another scramble start. More bombers were on the way and the Esc 67 SPADs were the only thing standing in their way. Pyotr was fourth in line to take off. They were now forming up and even before he could get anywhere close to his spot in formation, his engine made a loud bang. Oil went all over the front of the plane and black spray covered his goggles. Smirnov reduced the engine revs and detached from the rest of the flight. They weren’t that far off and he could still make it back to the airfield.



He landed his plane and nearly overshot the field. At the very end he kicked the rudder to turn towards the hangars, but the engine gave up the ghost. He was undoing his harness when the bombs started to rain on the aerodrome.

YouTube Link

Fullofit -Truly! May as well just stay on the ground with weather like this, but unfortunately command disagrees! As for dealing with the enemy in clouds like these, Dean has done quite a lot of that today, as you'll find.
That is a valid point. And still a most unfortunate one. Ah, if only that weren't the case. Oh well, maybe somethng someday will fix that!
Replacements coming in their own planes? That would be a pleasantry! Bikes though, I reckon that can be arranged. Dean can be in charge of such a notion. Give it a few weeks and they'll turn the whole squadron into a semi bicycle-airborne squadron.
EDIT AS MISSED THE POST - An unfortunate day for Pyotr then, huh. First a rejection, then an engine failure during a scramble. On the bright side, doubt the scramble would've achieved much regardless, so at least saved some time flying about there!

Kebab - Good job with the strutters, they can be a danger after all. As for the French, well. Underestimating them is all well and good, until you run into a wanna-be Rene Fonck, at which point you regret it.

Tross - Those replacements will really be needed soon enough. Or, well, even now. No changes in weather but certainly changes in opposition though!
A quiet day for Edward too it seems! Well, better that than some possibilities that could be far less pleasant, I reckon!

Raine - So far anyway, thankfully!





2/LT Dean Andrews Cunningham
№64 Squadron RAF
Izles-Les-Hameux, Flanders
25th May, 1918.

13 confirmed

Four kills today, though at a cost, and sadly to almost no credit. The Hun today must've decided to make a particular push in the air, as the only thing we'd gotten a chance to fly today, even in spite of the terrible rain and weather were intercepts, to a somewhat succesful degree. For the first one of the day, a report arrived in the early morning, and Hayden scrambled the whole Squadron, with A flight trailing behind us to provide cover. This of course unfortunately did not really happen, and as we took off into the cloudy skies, we ended up having to fare for ourselves. At first we found nothing in the target area, and simply circled, hoping we'd still manage to catch whoever the interlopers were eventually. Our expectations were met with a sudden appearance of an entire Pfalz Jasta, which due to A flight lagging behind somewhere outnumbered us significantly. As such, Flight Lead gave a signal for a retreat, and we followed, but soon the Pfalzes were upon us and forced a fight.

The furball was hectic as ever, and while I tried to find myself a target and stay on it, I kept being forced defensive and eventually had to dive below the clouds and towards the ground. There I was left alone, if only for a while, before my eyes suddenly settled on the sights of a Pfalz trying to assault and drive another SE5 into the ground. Seeing an opportunity, I dove in, firing my guns and getting the Hun off the tail of the SE5, before I pressed my assault on him. A low level dogfight over our lines ensued, in which the Pfalz tried to evade me to rather terrible effect, and though I overshot him several times, I still found my way back on his six with no effort. Eventually, I managed to drive him to crash on the ground right in front of our lines. Following this, I climbed for home.

During my climb home however, I set my eyes on a small flight of 4 aircraft heading back towards the Hun side, which revealed themselves to be Pfalzes too. I prepared to run, not wanting to deal with all 4 of them trying to kill me, though luckily for me this did not turn out to be the case. Instead, only one of the Huns set his sights on me and begun to turn. His comrades were either unprepared or uninterested as they kept on flying, while I turned to run, hoping to drag the Pfalz away from them further. With him being alone, I had no doubts about my ability to kill him off, so as he dove on me and missed he only fell further into my trap. This Hun did prove to be rather tricky, as he actually managed to outmaneuver me enough to avoid being killed, and after spinning around for a while turned to run home. I wasn't happy letting that happen and followed him for a while, catching up with him over the German trenches and engaging again. The fight resumed, but this time I managed to get the upper hand and shoot him up, slowing his moves until he was helpless before me. The ground Huns tried to save him from the predicament, hitting my crate a few times, but I simply didn't care as I emptied my remaining Vickers and Lewis ammo into the Hun, having only half on the last Lewis Drum left when finally his wing snapped and he went crashing into the Hun trenches while I fled home, victorious.

Coming home I found out that the pilot I saved earlier was one of our lieutenants, Bucktston. Tried as he could to confirm the destruction of his attacker at my hands though, it turned out that the ground troops over in the trenches claimed themselves responsibility for killing off the Hun. My second Hun however managed to get a confirmation though, witnessed by someone in A flight while they were flying around doing god knows what on their own. What a bizarre set of circumstances, though I expected no less of the infantry than to try to steal kills like that. Besides that, we lost 3 men and machines during the fight, in exchange for the 2 that I killed plus a kill from sargeant Frehley, the lad from the Highlands. I suppose that proved to be a fair exchange...

Later in the day as we were recovering from the misfortunate fight another order arrived and forced us into the blue. This time it was just B flight, and due to a now once more present lack of airmen and machines. Thankfully for us this time it was not scouts, but rather a formation of Hun two seaters that we found instantly and attacked. I dove on one, as did several of our lads and with a singular long burst, the Hun's upper plane was ripped off altogether. From there on I broke and decided to engage a singular target of my own, soon finding my quarry and setting upon it. The gunner tried fighting back while the pilot gunned it for Hun lines, but soon enough I've torn up their rudder. Another two minutes or so of fighting and careful shooting, and the two seater began trailing a dark trail, no doubt from the messed up engine. One more minute after that, a wild burst tore off his upper left plane and he was sent tumbling down to the ground. Now having lost sight of my flight, I headed for home.

From this fight we got ourselves 4 kills for others in the squadron, including the first one we engaged as a group and in which I was very involved in, though they decided to give it to one of the other airmen as he fired first. Adding to that, my own kill of the lone two seater, which unfortunately was rejected due to a lack of evidence and anyone seeing anything. Most unfortunate, but I shall take solace in the knowledge that I still shot the Hun down in the end, confirmation or not. In exchange, we lost another two men in the fighting with the two seaters. By the end of the day, our tally stood at 8 kills and 5 losses. Tragic as it was, it seems for the first time the 64th was making a truly positive score from the fighting.

NR, what a day! Are there any replacement left to replace the losses from today? You must be on your last pair of airplanes. May as well start fighting on the bicycles.
In case of Pyotr, all crates except his were airborne, so no plane losses, but I’m sure the Huns destroyed the bicycle shed. We’ll be in dire need of those soon.
So from quiet day to an action packed one. Congrats on the multiple kills, it’s just too bad most had gone unconfirmed. And what’s this with the grunts poaching claims from Dean? Something’s gotta be done about this underhanded practice.

No update today as I have to reinstall the game since I have messed up the .exe during the update to 1.12. It gave me a permissions issue so I tried to delete the original WOFF.exe to be changed with the one the patch puts. I only later figured the issue was because my game was still open...I'm rather dumb.

2nd Lieutenant Edward Wilson
48 Squadron
Bertangles East airfield

5 confirmed kills

26th May 1918

Captain Payne was leading 'B' flight on their morning sortie. Only four aircraft had been allocated for the mission which was to head over to Beaumont-Hamel once more.

The weather was still good but with some large clouds around which made Edward doubly nervous.

They headed off, formed up and climbed up to 14000 feet.

They'd reached about halfway to Beaumont-Hamel when the four Brisfits spotted a whole Jasta of enemy aircraft who had somehow managed to get behind them so where between the lines and Bertangles.

Captain Payne seemed to change his mind several times, whether to attack or run. By this time 'B' flight had been seen and the Dreideckers were racing up towards them.

"What the hell is he doing!" shouted Edward to Hector.

At this rate they were sitting ducks, going nowhere. 2nd Lieutenant Clapp dived down into the enemy and was immediately set upon by several Dreideckers.

Edward hesitated for a second, then went to try and help him.

Edward fired into a couple of Dreideckers who broke off their attack however more Hun scouts latched onto Edward's tail.

He was hit several times but carried on hitting the aircraft attacking Clapp, who was on his first outing.

Further bullets tore into Edward's wing and destroyed the aileron.

He swirled down and down. He throttled up and this levelled him off a bit but still he was spiralling down.

The ground was rising up towards him now. He kicked his rudder but if he lowered the throttle his nose dropped.

He had no choice now but to try and land. His left wheel hit the ground and the aircraft swerved, Edward could do nothing as it smashed into a derelict building.

The Brisfit burst into flames. Edward desperately tried to unclip his belt but it was stuck! The flames were all around now but the belt wouldn't budge!

He reached for his revolver.............


Edward is no more. Clapp was also shot down. Hector survived, just.

Albert, a short story Edward's one, but I must say it was rather intense. He did the right thing, taking out his revolver..

I disagree. Pops should have reached for his trusty knife instead of the revolver. Cutting his harness would have been much easier than trying to shoot the belt buckle.
Sorry to hear of Edward’s demise. It was too early. At least He tor survived. I have a feeling the Gong Fairy is getting too potent. The curse appears to start working even prior to the delivery of any awards, it seems. Better luck with the next … aviateur. Hint, hint, nudge, nudge. Those SPADs aren’t going to fly themselves, y’know.

Raine - The Brisfit is a lovely bird and I'll definitely try another campaign at some point. You use different tactics as you have to remember you have a gunner. I was doing fine until they sent us up with four planes. Event though 10 were available with pilots. I just knew we'd run into a Jasta. Then the lead aircraft couldn't decide if he was attacking or running and ended up doing neither.

Fullofit - Congratulations on Pyotr reaching 10 confirmed kills even if he did have some rejected. Then he has a hispano blow up in his face. That's not good, nevermind kicking the pets, start kicking the mechanics.

I've already decided on my next pilot and he may end up flying a SPAD, if he lives long enough.

NR - A busy and productive day for Cunningham, but out of the carnage he created he got one confirmation. Bloody ground troops claiming everything, they'll be claiming they shot down von Richthofen next. 13 confirmed kills now for Cunningham, excellent work. Some losses but more claims, that's as much as you can do in the mayhem of the airwar in 1918.

TWK - hopefully you'll get your game sorted soon. Yes, given the choice of roasting alive or putting a bullet through your brains....it's a no brainer.... in every way.

Once more unto the breach dear friends.......


Introducing 2nd Lieutenant James Daniel Hardy. He's from Kensington, Philadelphia and was born on 4th February 1892.

He went to the University of Philadelphia and was working as a chemical engineer when the war started. He always had a keen interest in machines and flying and enlisted in the USAS in 1917. After basic training in the states he is sent to Issoudun to undergo pilot training.

He passed with flying colours and after a couple of months training others he is assigned to 95th Aero, who are based in Toul, arriving on 26th May 1918.

This is his story.......

Albert, condolences for losing Edward and I'm glad you're up for another round with the Bristols down the road. They really are remarkable machines. Welcome to your new man. Here's the latest from McAlister…

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

Part 45


Grand Hotel, Brighton


“And are you engaged to marry this young woman?” asked Mrs Nevill.

I took a sip of tea to give myself time to think. I needed the hospital administrator’s permission to get away for a couple of hours when Bronwyn arrived. Engaged? If I said no, would she refuse me?

“It’s under consideration,” I said haltingly.

“Under consideration – is that so?” The good lady looked at me as though I were a fly swimming in her lobster bisque. It sounded… caddish. I immediately set out to make my honourable intentions clear. Instead, I opened my mouth and made a sort of quacking sound followed by a lot of “buts.”

I cleared my throat. “I mean, it’s hardly fair, what with being wounded and going back to the front and the war and the Huns and all that nonsense. I should want to know that there is a future to look forward to before asking the poor girl to commit.”

“And I should want to protect the reputation of this hospital,” said Mrs Nevill. “It’s not the sort of place any stray young thing can pop into and waltz off with one of my officers.”

“Mrs Nevill, Bronwyn Caterham-Hobbs is not some stray young thing. She is a fine lady and is bringing a person of stature to chaperone our lunch.” I had in fact no idea who was coming with her. For a moment I worried that it would be one of her fellow teachers. I had heard stories and “person of stature” might be a stretch.

“Captain McAlister, I shall not be forced into a decision on this matter. When your visitor arrives, I shall judge the suitability of the chaperone and decide then. Of course, you may order tea and sandwiches in the reading room if lunch proves impossible. Now, you are off to therapy with Nurse Callaghan…”

Bloody Mary had Sarsen and me walking with the parallel bars and doing various stretches for more than an hour. There was barely time to wash and shave before I heard the bell ringing in the front hall below. I heard several voices including a man’s and heard Mrs Nevill twittering approvingly.

Sarsen knew what was up and asked me who was with Bronwyn. “No idea,” I told him. An orderly appeared and informed me that I had visitors in the front room. I grabbed my walking stick and hobbled to the stairs. My descent was measured – a “dot and carry one” manoeuvre, one leg at a time. The sun was streaming in the front window and figures appeared only in silhouette – a tall bewhiskered man in a bowler and a stately woman in a pale green dress with a woollen shawl and driving hat. And Bronwyn running to meet me at the bottom of the stair. I resisted all my baser impulses and kissed her hand.

“Come meet Mummy and Daddy,” she said. “George, this is my father, Nigel Caterham-Hobbs.” Without waiting for us to exchange words she added “and this is my dear mother.” Mrs Caterham-Hobbs held out a gloved hand.

“So this is the young man you have been telling us about. I do hope you realise the impression you have made on Bronwyn, young man.”

“I rather think it’s the other way around,” I stammered. “It’s very kind of you to visit.” Mrs Nevill had already nodded her assent to my departure and Mr Caterham-Hobbs remarked that we’d best be on our way if they were to have me back this afternoon. He led us out to the drive where a fine Vauxhall awaited on the gravel. I held the doors open for Mrs Caterham-Hobbs and for Bronwyn.

I sat in the back seat, scarcely daring to look at Bronwyn who was unsuccessfully suppressing a fit of the giggles. Every time I looked up I saw Mr Caterham-Hobbs’s eyes peering at me from beneath his bushy brows in the car’s mirror. I tried to reach out to touch Bronwyn’s hand on the seat but could not do so without visibly leaning in her direction. More giggles.

Several uncomfortable minutes later we arrived in front of the palatial Grand Hotel. Bronwyn’s mother ushered her up the stairs while her father patiently waited for me. We made our way to the terrace grill where we enjoyed a table in the sunlight with a view of the ocean. Bronwyn explained that her parents had rented a house in Brighton to be close to her brother Timothy, who had just returned from France. I had not heard that he was hurt, but it seems that he was mildly gassed and, after a brief spell in hospital in France, was sent back to England to convalesce. He was in a hospital for officers in Brighton. The plan was for Mrs Caterham-Hobbs to stay in Brighton until he was released. Bronwyn’s father was heading back to Leatherhead in a couple of days. I expressed the hope that I would get a chance to meet Timothy, and I suspect my motive of luring Bronwyn back to the Brighton area was transparent. Bronwyn asked about my wound which gave us the opportunity to speak to one another directly for the first time. She then mentioned to her parents that I had been somewhat successful at war flying. This led to an awkward line of questioning from her father, beginning with the inevitable “So, have you bagged any Huns?”

“Fifty,” I said immodestly. “That is, fifty confirmed and somewhat more probable.”

“But that is more than Albert Ball,” he protested.

“Ball would likely have more than me if he had survived,” I said. “We haven’t made a great fuss over our top Hun-getters. There is an American chap with more than a hundred Huns and the VC and we hardly hear of him. On the other hand, we have hundreds of fellows doing the heavy work of artillery registration and photographic reconnaissance who need bags of guts and will never see a line of recognition in the papers. That’s why we don’t fuss too much about Huns.”

Bronwyn pointed to my DSO ribbon. “George has the Distinguished Service Order, Papa.” The bushy eyebrows raised again. I realised that her father was not militarily astute and asked him about his business. He is, I learned, the owner of a group of grocery stores and has done an extraordinary job of growing the business. He spoke about it enthusiastically for nearly half-an-hour and then, suddenly, asked me whether we would win the war.

“The crisis is not past,” I said, “but I suspect that it is passing. For my part, I want to do my bit in turning the tide. If the Huns run out of steam soon, we can give them a good shove before the winter and then come back in the spring of next year and finish the job. I should like at leas to see out the balance of this year in France before they assign me to a desk somewhere in England.”

A waiter interrupted and took orders for drinks. There was an awkward silence for a minute until I spoke up again. “With your permission, I should also like to see Bronwyn again before I head back to France. I fully intend to maintain our correspondence until I am sent back to England and can court her properly. I hope I am not being too forward, but there you have it.”

“Isn’t he exactly as I told you, Papa?” said Bronwyn.

26th May 1918
Leutnant Albrecht Bernhard Schutzmeier
JG III, Jasta 27
Vivaise, Marne.
Operation Blucher und Yorck
9 confirmed kills.

I'm proud to say my 2 strutters have been confirmed - Seems like Goering is in unusual good spirits after his accident, yesterday.
Today two of the newest crates have arrived, they've been assigned to two of the highest ranking fliegers in the Jasta: Goering and Borlinghaus. Some more seem to be on the way, and my hopes are that I'll be soon on the list. After all I'm Jasta 27's highest scoring pilot, uh?

1st Flight
We had an usual friendly lines patrol, which was uneventful. On another note, Jasta 6 told us they have been ambushed by SPADen during take off! I can't wait to compensate for their losses and give a nice lesson to Escadrille 92.
I had a chance to see with my eyes that new D.VII Fokker's performances, and I must admit it's one bloody amazing machine. Goering and Borlinghaus struggled to keep themselves slow enough to bear with our Dreideckers' speed. Can't wait to see them in combat. I'm trying to convince Herr Goering to have me try his crate - I can't wait. "Forget it, Schutzmeier! What are you, a kid?" That was his answer, but I'm sure I'll lighten him up with enough beer...
I also saw a neat minuscule village, I might go there whenever I have some free time to see what's hanging around.

2nd Flight
We had to patrol the airspace between our airfield and the one on the other side of the river, still uneventful. I admit I miss the Britishmen, they were a true pleasure to fight. These Frenchmen truly are some boring Monsieurs. But I won't underestimate them until I have enough chances to fight them - Wouldn't want to end up like Borlinghaus, who I'm sure called some good ol' jinx upon him with what he said about the French yesterday. I keep it to myself, maybe I'll last a bti more in this beautiful landscape!


PS: hope you don't mind the ugly phrases on the pictures, I forgot to wait for them to disappear or to cut them out :p

Henri N. du Fay
Spa 94,Sgt
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector

3 Victorys


May 26, 1918.

Offensive Patrol 9 Spads in 2 flights toll for e/a over enemy Aerodrome. T/O 0750 hrs Heavy cloud cover at different altitudes. Over target a lot of the fluffy stuff . The flight was at max height when they suddenly dove. On what ? I re acted a bit slow and missed the hole in the clouds that they dove into.
I went down in a slow circle amid cannon fire. I saw some dots chasing other dots. The ground Fire got worst as I went lower over the enemy AF. ( Near Cappy ) I could see some smoke columns coming up from the ground., but I was all alone not a aero machine to be seen only nasty Boche exploding shells so I flew home. Later heard that they encountered and dove on 2 seats in the landing pattern and we lost 3 machines for 1 e/a.. Not a god day. However, my two kills were confirmed.

Fullofit - Besides the few things being repaired, none! The squadron is again in the position where there's more pilots than there is crates! I'm sure those bicycles would be great in an Air-to-Air role! If snoopy can do it on a doghouse, why can't we do it on a bike!?
My condolences at this trying time to the bike shed of course. It did not deserve to fall victim in this brutal war.
It really was a wild change of pace I must say. Don't reckon a bad one though, even despite the losses. Now if only those kills started getting confirmed... The grunts simply have no shame, that's what's causing this. Either that or they are jealous that we have bikes and they don't. You won't see a private taking out his bike for a joyride across the flandern fields, will you? Exactly why they're so jealous!

Tross - Truly, the ground troops really can be a pain, and so can the lack of witnesses, especially during such a time. But in the end I suppose the fact remains, a fight happened, a Hun went down and Dean lived, confirmation or not, so all is good. Losses are just a part of life at this point, can't do much about those sadly!
On the topic of losses, most unfortunate about Edward! He had such a good start! But I suppose that's the uncertainty and chaos of warfare for you. One day you're fine, next you're in a burning wreckage. So, an American airman, and from a pretty good Squadron too! This'll certainly be interesting! The main thing of course will be dealing with the 28s until you can the better SPADS, I'd imagine!

Raine - Ah, the awkwardness of meeting her parents. Certainly one of the things one has to deal with, even MacAlister.

Trusty - Good job on managing to get everything sorted, it seems! So a few calm flights in what seems like subpar weather. Meatball-man is still being unreasonably unfriendly. Oughta lighten up. Hopefully Schutzmeier gets himself a fokker too soon enough!

Carrick - Most unfortunate about losing track of everything, but it happens! Congrats on the confirmed kills. Less so for the losses though, not really a good trade-off at all.





Lieutenant Dean Andrews Cunningham
№64 Squadron RAF
Izles-Les-Hameux, Flanders
26th May, 1918.

13 confirmed, 2 pending


A really good day today, in spite of all things. First matter of things was the arrival of a singular new recruit, a lad from England. While I've not interacted with the man much, I do hear he isn't the best pilot, so unfortunately the squadron keeps being staffed by rookies. Probably explains our frequent losses. That is to say of course, you really cannot complain about new men at a time when we keep losing them. Squadron also short on one machine to fully equip everyone... Nevermind that, the normal affairs of the day: First thing on the agenda was shooting down a Hun balloon, using the bad weather and clouds to our advantage here. This proved easy, as our three-man took off, found the balloon, and lit it up, braving some small arms fire and Archie fire, though nothing major. Strangely, coming home and being greeted by Hayden, he seemed to be acting an awful lot mysterious, giving me several strange looks throughout the debrief.

Soon after, the weather begun clearing and the sun appeared from the clouds. Along with the sun came orders to do a rerun on the same balloon position from this morning, as the Huns apparently wasted no time hanging another one up again in place of the old one. This time Hayden personally led B flight on this mission, and there again we repeated our morning's effort, finding the balloon, with me lighting it up and then watching it blow apart behind me. Then we went home, untouched by the thankfully non-present Hun. My claims for balloons, unfortunately, were delayed, even despite my fellow airmen including Hayden witnessing them. Something about the bureaucratic process...

A little disappointed I figured that it would be the end of the things for the day and contemplated taking the bike for a ride to the nearby town when my plans were interrupted by Hayden forming us up for... something. No one seemed to have a clue as to what the reason could've been, besides some drastic new measures being taken or a motivational speech. Fortunately, it was neither. Instead Hayden broke the news that I had been recommended for, and subsequently granted a promotion to the rank of Lieutenant, on behalf of my constant yet painful service and all my militaristic exploits in the sky, half of which I'm sure oughta get me killed on a normal day. In that moment I felt most proud, as this was what all my time spent with the 64th has led up to, as of right now anyway. Almost ironic, I suppose, coming to the Squadron on a truck full of potatoes and ending up getting a promotion to lieutenant and holding the most kills and at this point probably having more flights and hours than our Captain himself. Either way, there was little time for such contemplation and brooding, as what ensued was a hearty celebration of my promotion, which I'm sure in Hayden's eyes doubled as a morale boost for the 64th to take everyone's minds off of the losses as of late. Whether that is the case or not I of course can only assume, though I can certainly say for myself that my mind was on other things, mainly involving food and alcohol, so I suppose his grand plan worked out in the end...

Albert, a Yank on a kicking mule. These guys are good at building aerodromes. Hopefully the N.28 won’t kill our hero and he’ll finally get to fly the best the French could offer - the SPAD!

Raine, so the cat’s out of the bag. “We” met Mrs Nevill approval and it’s a good thing for George. But is it now? Meeting with the parents - Bronwyn is moving fast! Beware young MacAlister.

Kebab, Schutzmeier fancies a new toy. Patience. One should come soon.

NR, fighting the enemy every which way is commendable, even if it is on a bike. Now, stealing claims and maybe even bicycles is despicable. Those ground troops should be ashamed of themselves.
Well now, congratulations are in order Dean is a Lieutenant. Well done! Most likely more responsibilities, but perhaps a chance to lead more flights, do it your own way.
Make sure to not drink too much, you have to remember to follow up on those balloon claims.

26 May, 1918 09:45
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector
Esc SPA 67, GC 12
Adjutant Pyotr Fyodor Smirnov MM
SPAD XIII
10 confirmed kills

With ten victories under his belt, and plenty of spare time after yesterday’s engine failure, Pyotr decided to celebrate by decorating his plane. Everyone else was picking up pieces of the demolished hangars while he busied himself painting. Once he was done, le Capitaine walked by, looked at Smirnov’s creation and asked what was this “two-headed turkey” doing on the side of the fuselage. Pyotr proudly announced it was the Imperial Eagle. d’Indy squinted and balked. “- Looks German.”
Smirnov expected as much and without hesitation had an answer: “- Good, in that case it won’t be confused with a weedy rooster good only for shagging old hens.”
Le Capitaine understood the slight, narrowed his eyes in anger, but didn’t say anything. In his French way he put his hand under his chin, palm down and flicked it at Pyotr, then walked away without uttering another word. Smirnov was confused. He didn’t know what that meant. Perhaps le Capitaine liked it so much?
A patrol of friendly front line sector between Roye and Noyon was scheduled for today’s escadrille activities. The skies were clear, for the most part, and Pyotr was confident no enemy surprise attack would be possible. He was right. He could see them approaching from far away and everyone was prepared for the battle this time. The same couldn’t be said about the Huns. They were outnumbered two to one, yet they engaged nonetheless. A brave bunch of Albatroses, but despite what the French swear by, élan does not win battles. There were always at least two or more SPADs behind each Albatros and it was difficult for Pyotr to engage without getting in the way. He evaluated each battle around him and tried to attack where it looked like the Boche was gaining the upper hand. He fired at a few of them and then switched to another. At some point he saw an Albatros chase one of the SPADs and Smirnov had to intervene. The Albatros was unlucky enough to fly right in front of Pyotr’s guns. He didn’t hesitate and opened fire immediately. The salvo had blown off the upper wingtip and the Albatros spiralled down.
“- That one’s mine! I got him!” Pyotr yelled in excitement before realizing nobody could hear him. Instead he watched the Hun go all the way down and mark his crash site with a large cloud of dust. Two machines collided in the distance.
Smirnov looked for more enemy planes to attack. The battle still raged around him and he was able to single out another Albatros below. He went after him and saw that the enemy was following another SPAD and Pyotr was third in line. The Boche noticed Smirnov behind him and disengaged from his pursuit. Pyotr held on to his tail and let out a short burst when the enemy flew by his gunsights. As he did that, he pulled up too much and lost control. His plane went into a spin very close to the ground, but he was able to recover right above ground. He thought he lost his target, but another SPAD prevented the Albatros from running away. It took Smirnov some time to reacquire his target, but in the end he found himself on his rear again. It took him a few attempts, but in the end he brought the Hun down with one of the bursts. He watched it go down and crash and after levelling off was presented with a target of opportunity. One of his wingmates was finishing off one of the last Albatroses and Pyotr was able to send a burst into it as it was about to crash. He wasn’t sure however if any of his rounds connected. After that, the battle was over and the remaining SPADs returned home.

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Raine - So MacAlister found out about the sinister 'other' we were all wondering about. Turned out not to be so sinister but still nerve-wracking. Talking about nerve-wracking, could Mrs Nevill have made it any tougher. She was more like Nurse Diesel. It went about as well as it could do though.

TWK - Shutzmeier is upto 9 confirmed now and yet Goering still treats him like a petulant novice. The famed Fokker has now arrived and the big man obviously grabs one for himself. Shutzmeier just needs to stay patient and more importantly, alive.

Carrick - A good day for Henri with those kills getting confirmed. Not so good for the Escadrille with those losses.

NR - Our intrepid balloon buster bags another two bags. Hopefully they'll get confirmed. Promotion to Lieutenant as well for Cunningham, good stuff. He'll be flight leader a lot more now and able to watch after the newbies.

Fullofit - Quite a day for Pyotr after yesterday's engine failure. Those Albatrosse were quite fearless, foolish but fearless. Pyotr made them pay although that spin near the ground was a little dicey. Hmm that French CO needs to brush up on his history it appears.

2nd Lieutenant James Hardy
95th Aero
Toul

26th May 1918 - 8am

James stretched his back, it had taken quite a beating on the long journey from Issoudun to Toul. The truck he was in screeched to a halt at the gate to the airfield.

Then it drove around to a row of huts, one of which had a sign on it. "95th Aero Squadron".


"We're here" said the driver

James climbed out. The french driver had put James's bags on the ground and was climbing back into his truck.

"Bon chance mon Ami" said the driver as he started up and drove away.

James carried his bags to what seemed to be the headquarters hut. He entered and saw the Adjutant sitting there at a desk, typing. A telephone was next to him and a log burner was behind. Another door nearby had a plaque on it, "Major D, McKelvey Peterson. C.O. 95th Aero.

James saluted and introduced himself to the Adjutant.

"Ahh Lieutenant Hardy, welcome, wait here please I'll see if the Major can see you now" said the Adjutant.

He knocked and entered the Major's office. A few moments later the Adjutant reappeared and beckoned James in.

"Major Peterson will see you now" he said stiffly and closed the door on James as he entered the room.

James saluted and Major Peterson rose from his desk and returned the salute.

"Come in Lieutenant, at ease. Welcome to the 95th" said Peterson.

"Thank you sir" said James.

"Sit down Lieutenant, you've had quite a journey" said Peterson pointing towards the empty chair in front of his desk.

"It has been long, thank you sir" said James as he sat.

The Major went through James's papers.

"A chemical engineer? Hmm, your father runs a textile warehouse in Philadelphia. So what made you join up Lieutenant?" asked Peterson.

"I've always been interested in flying sir, and I wanted to do my bit, it seemed right to me, so I joined the USAS" answered James.

"Good show, things are really hotting up here Lieutenant. I won't beat about the bush when I tell you you are going to be very busy." said Peterson.

"I understand sir, I'm ready" said James.

"Are you? Are you indeed" said the Major with a sly grin. "We shall see".

"Right, go get yourself some refreshment. Speak to the Adjutant for your billet number and your assigned aircraft number. Go check it out if you like. Report back here in an hour's time in your flight gear" said the Major.


An hour later James was back in the office with the Major.

"Right Lieutenant, first up I want you to take your Nieuport up and climb to about 4000 feet and circle the area around the airfield.

Test the rigging and struts. Remember not to dive too hard in the 28, she'll tear herself to pieces" said Peterson.

"Pay attention to the landmarks around here, the Moselle river is nearby and several important roads. Do a couple of circuits and then bring her in" finished the Major.

"Yes sir" said James who saluted and left.

A short while later James was in the air. The weather was good, plenty of sunshine although the clouds seemed to be massing.

He climbed up quickly in the nimble Nieuport, he reached 4000 feet in no time. Levelling out he spotted the Moselle as he started circling around.

He also spotted the several roads in the area. Then he put the Nieuport through it's paces. It was good to be back in the air again.

After about 20 minutes he came in to land. Climbing out he was met by Major Peterson.

"Pretty flying Lieutenant, let's hope you're as comfortable when it matters" said Peterson.

"Go and get cleaned up and grab some lunch. You'll be coming up with us in the afternoon" said the Major.



Afternoon sortie

Major Peterson took the briefing. "Gentlemen, we'll be heading towards St Mihiel this afternoon. As you can see the weather has closed in. Perfect weather to get jumped, so stay alert" said Peterson.

"As you can see we have a new recruit, 2nd Lieutenant James Hardy has joined us. Make him feel welcome and he'll be joining us on this afternoon's trip". said Peterson.

Several hellos and greetings were shared until Peterson motioned for quiet.

He spoke directly to James, "Lieutenant, I want you to accompany us on this patrol. Stay in formation and stay sharp. Watch for signals. If we do run into any opposition I want you to return to base right away. That is an order Lieutenant" said the Major, his tone left James in no uncertain terms it was most definitely meant.

"Yes sir I understand" said James.

James took off with the others and they formed up near the Moselle river.

The weather had deteriorated a lot. Thick clouds were abound and rain splattered James' windscreen as he flew.

The wind made staying in formation difficult but James managed it fine.

The patrol passed without incident although James was able to take a first look at the front lines.

On landing, James went to clean up. A little later he was called into the Major's office.

"Good job today Lieutenant, you maintained formation well in those winds. Thankfully we didn't meet any opposition but I trust you would have followed my orders if we had. Believe me I've seen plenty of hotshots who wouldn't have" said Peterson.

"Go and relax with the others now. Tomorrow we'll be doing it again for real this time." finished the Major.

"Yes sir, I won't let you down" said James as he saluted and left to join the others in the mess.

Henri N. du Fay
Spa 94,Sgt
Hétomesnil, Marne Sector

3 Victorys


May 27, 1918.

AF Attack: My engine over heated so had to put down at Vert Galand West. Nice chaps, They quickly found a coolant leak and sent me on Zee way.

1410 hrs, Off to bag a balloon. over target at high altitude Zee Boche had more than enough time to hual dow Zee Bag. I Aborted to shoot up and Aerodrome close by. A Fun Time. No losses no kills.

Albert Toss: U R A Machine.

Carrick - You are a good judge of character, although tbh I'm making the most of a couple of days off.

Shame about Henri's balloon target, he needs to be careful strafing airfelds by himself though.



2nd Lieutenant James Hardy
95th Aero
Toul

27th May 1918

Morning sortie

Major Peterson took the morning briefing. He confirmed the whole squadron would be heading north to the lines to the east of St Mihiel.

The weather had cleared again after yesterday's rain. Large clouds remained though, limiting visibility.

James sat on his cockpit as his engine warmed. He was nervous but excited, more than anything he was ready.

He took off with the others and formed up. They climbed up to around 13000 feet and headed off north.

James kept a keen eye on the skies around but it was clear as they reached the lines.

They turned west and after a few moments he saw a lot of black dots swarming around each other ahead and a little below. He wondered where 'A' flight had got to.

The rest of 'B' flight had seen the melee going on ahead by now and they flew towards the swarming aircraft.

James now saw it was 'A' flight in the mix with several Albatrosse. Three Hun bombers were flying above the chaos.

James picked a target and found one as an Albatros tried to escape the melee

He nosed down and caught up with the enemy aircraft in no time. He lined up and poured both barrels into him. The Albatros rolled and dived. James, rolled and dived also, easing back on the throttle to keep the speed in check.

They came through a thick cloud and the Albatros levelled off. James had already done that and was now behind his foe and a bit above. He fired a long burst into the Albatros as he dived onto his tail again and another burst tore up the Albatros and it nosed down and went straight into the ground.

James drew breath for the first time in ages it seemed. He took stock and as he couldn't see any other aircraft he climbed up.

As he came back through the clouds he saw several other Nieuports. The three Hun two seaters were now trying to run home but James and the others climbed up after them.

He saw they were Rumplers and came up behind one of them. The Rumpler tried to evade by kicking his rudder but James simply did the same and his extra speed brought him nearer. He got the Hun in his sights and blasted the cockpit and wings of the Rumpler.

The burst tore the wing off the stricken enemy aircraft and it spun uncontrollably down and smashed into the ground below.

James formed up now with the rest of the Nieuports and they headed home.

On landing James joined the huddle of pilots near Major Peterson's office.

"#%&*$# fine job Lieutenant, I saw you get that two seater. You nailed him good and proper!" said Captain Taylor.

James filed his two claims and went to clean up and grab some refreshment.


Afternoon sortie

Major Peterson took 'B' flight out again on their afternoon mission. They would be heading north west towards the lines south of Metz.

The weather was still good but still cloudy and the winds had picked up somewhat.

They headed off having climbed to around 12500 feet and James was keen eyed once more.

All was quiet until about 25 minutes in when 'B' flight saw aircraft apparently forming up ahead of them.

After a few moments James identified them as Albatros scouts. The Albatros scouts had seen 'B' flight now but we're still all over the place.

James didn't wait for an invite, he selected a target and dived onto one of the Hun scouts.

He fired into him and the Albatros rolled and dived. James went with him, firing often.

Another burst tore the wing off the Albatros which spun down into the ground.

James saw more Albatros scouts falling and the couple of survivors had ran for their lives.

A few of the Nieuports had taken hits so the flight headed home.

They landed safely and afterwards James was called into Major Peterson's office.

"So Lieutenant, how was your day?" asked Peterson.

James wasn't quite sure how to answer this but the sudden grin over Peterson's face told him not to worry about it.

"Let me answer that for you Lieutenant. You had a fantastic day!" said the Major broadly smiling.

"Your flying was first rate. You selected your targets and didn't let them go. You used what the Nieuport is good for. I'm very impressed" said Peterson.

"Thank you sir. It was nerve-wracking but I felt in control." said James.

"You certainly were in control. Your two seater from this morning and your claim this afternoon have been confirmed. Your other claim today couldn't be, as no-one saw it" confirmed Peterson.

"We had a very good day, we claimed 9 aircraft downed including your 3. We did lose a Nieuport but the pilot was ok." explained the Major.

"Accompany me over to the mess if you don't mind Lieutenant, we deserve to celebrate the squadron's success with the others" asked Peterson.

"Yes of course sir" said James.

27th-28th May 1918
Leutnant Albrecht Bernhard Schutzmeier
JG III, Jasta 27
Vivaise, Marne.
Operation Blucher-Yorck
9 confirmed kills.

#%&*$#! Just as we're beginning to receive new crates, I get grounded with a couple others for logistics work. Sometimes I feel like I get aimed at by the top brass, and I can't understand why. Jealousy seems such an uncivilized thought for them, but who knows? I just discovered most of the other Leutnants got a D.VII already, and it's just me and a couple other that are missing it. $@/& sake. I'll snap, eventually. They'll hear from me. Rudolf tried to console me, even offering a try on his new craft. But it's not just for the craft anymore. I have scored in a month more than anybody in the squadron has scored since 1917, and I must take all the crap from them. Except the few good folk I am friends with. That Goering, the Gross Oberleutnant, what has HE accomplished? I read zero kills on his parsers, so what? Having a fancy white machine won't help him in war. And I even risked my life these many times to save him from Britishmen. But I know I can just keep tight. I'll get myself to be respected as I deserve, with time. I'll go get a pint of beer, and yes - I know it's 10 in the morning, but otherwise I'll end up choking one of the engineers.