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#4571995 - 06/17/21 12:55 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) ***** [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit Offline
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Ajax, ON
Epower, I don’t know if it was Klaus’ fault. The D.VII can pull some high-g maneuvers. I suspect the wing was shot of by one of those bloody Bréguets. After war, if they both survive, Klaus and Oliver will have to exchange a few tales about missing wings.
I’ve just realized I’ve been calling Oliver wrong all this time by adding that “t” at the end. Must be because of Halberstadt. Dear Lord, I’m getting old…ish.
So, Oliver is taking matters into his own hands finally. Good. Now, he just needs to find out Mr. Z true intentions. At least we know he’s not American, otherwise he’d be Mr. Zee. I just hope Oliver knows what he’s getting into (not that he hasn’t been “into” it for some time). Clarissa would be good enough to show up just about now and explain a few things, warn him of the terrible mistake he’s about to make. Distract him with a night of passionate lovemaking. Anything. I guess Oliver will just have to do it his way. Looking forward to finding out how it all plays out.

Trooper, it’s all in the wrist.

Albert, nice to meet you Clare. Any plans for tonight?
Yeah, anyone with hight advantage is dangerous, even an Eindecker. I just can’t figure out why they all chase after Klaus. There are so many other targets around. That lost wing was a blow, but that landing … inexcusable.
Kevin, on the other hand had no issues with landing a few bottles of whisky along with the rest of 41st.
So, another no-contact mission in the morning and some action in the afternoon. This is starting to become a routine for Carroll at this point. Is it a Hunnish perfidious plan to lull him a false sense of security? Next time Kevin will think nothing’s going to happen in the morning, as usual, drop his guard and then the Germans will pounce! Be on the lookout! In the meantime, congrats on the latest confirmed Rumpler. Still better than going after balloons as a tercet, I say.

MFair, oh crap! No, not Ludwig. “And he was doing so well” - I’ve heard it somewhere before.
It’s the work of that Gong Fairy again, innit? Cigar ashes to cigar ashes, fairy dust to fairy dust. RIP Ltn Kemp. Huzzah for the next man.

16 June, 1918
Montingen, Verdun Sector
Jasta 18
Feldwebel Klaus Gustav Raben
Fokker D.VII
6 confirmed kills

The recovery of his downed and damaged machine took the reminder of the day yesterday. Today, Klaus shaken and stirred awaits the repairs on his Fokker. Still, better grounded than in the ground. At least that’s what the older Raben keeps telling him.


"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4571999 - 06/17/21 01:22 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Attached Files 991a6548b2f38bed516977f78169e18b.jpge536557b86c57f59b5c1986938d05dedSTAEM  II.jpg
Last edited by carrick58; 06/17/21 02:14 AM.
#4572015 - 06/17/21 06:52 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Albert Tross Offline
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MFair - RIP young Kemp. I know the feeling when you get a character that fits like a glove. C'est la guerre! Grab a cold one and start again.

Carrick - Henri had a close call there it seems. He's alive and wiser for it.

Fullofit - Plans for this evening? Ooooh a bit of pilotry skills, which is an overblown way of saying staying alive.

A day off for Raben then, no bad thing, take stock, take a trip into town, take aspirin. Come back all fresh and raring to go....or stinking of booze, one of the two. One thing young Kevin has learned is not taking things for granted. Life is fickle and luck even more so.


"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
#4572036 - 06/17/21 11:25 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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L'Etoile du Nord
.

MFair - Well that just sucks! Farewell Ludwig, oh brave and noble warrior, enjoy Valhalla.

Fullofit - Yikes! Klaus got the luck Ludwig didn't get. Any landing you can walk away from, eh? But as for his kette mates just watching him get pounded, well there's a conversation to be had there.

Albert - So Kevin and his crew dealt with dead soldiers of a different sort. So many strong and stout fallen in one go. Ah well, sacrifices must be made.

Carrick - Henri is close to becoming zee ace, dangerously close.

Catch - Nice to see you dropping by. Enjoy your reading, and help yourself to whatever you might find at the bar.

Trooper - Good to have you here as well. Have some tea with that "piece of cake".

Raine - Glad to see that Mac stood his ground against Caldwell. It would have been suicide going up against the new Fokkers with those odds, and if the Major believes otherwise he's Red Tab material.

Epower - A brill episode as always. Ripper kept his comments to the class brief and to the point, well done. And the notorious Mr. Zed still lurks about, such intrigue. Where will it all lead?

.

#4572046 - 06/17/21 02:13 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58 Offline
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Henri N. du Fay
Spa 94,Sgt
Plessis-Belleville
Aerodrome

4 Victory's
2 Unconfirmed

Jun 17, 1918.


Zee Gods of War have turned against us. Dawn Line Patrol East Sector. No Contact.

Second Mission Balloon Attack: Zee Motor would not have it. Power Lost, but managed a safe landing in a farmers field. " Maledictions " !

#4572061 - 06/17/21 05:04 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Raine Offline
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EPower – even the most ominous of opponents would wear himself out trying to keep up with Oliver's journeys about London! Great stuff.

Albert – congratulations on Carroll's seventh victory. It's always a good feeling to see one of those Rumplers come apart.

Fullofit – I am still amazed at being able to walk away after bringing the Fokker down with the wing missing!

Carrick – Henri is sitting right at the edge of joining the company of the famous. Best of luck!


War Journal of Captain George Ewan MacAlister, DSO, DSC
74 Squadron, RAF
Clairmarais, France

Part 50


[Linked Image]
"Finally, just after changing to a new drum, I saw a brownish green Fokker turning a little bit ahead."


There are some mornings when one regrets being flight commander. Sunday, 16 June 1918 was one of them. I huddled in the cockpit waiting for the Wolseley engine to come up to temperature and tried to ignore the fact that the rain was becoming heavier and the clouds lower. If I were a mere novice flying outside left, I could at least tell myself that the boss was moving off and I had to follow. But as flight commander, I had to straighten up, wave the chocks away, and show what stern stuff we are made of. It was miserable.

We climbed over the marshes and floodlands around Clairmarais and turned southeast, picking our way through the thinnest patches of dark cloud. After a seeming eternity, we emerged into sunlight, and even at 9000 feet one could feel the relative warmth. Our rendezvous location was over Bethune and there, circling about, we found our wards – a half-dozen RE8s. We took station over them, throttled well back, and approached the lines. The RE8s delivered their bombs to a Hun supply depot near Oppy and regrouped. We reformed on them and turned for home.

Scarcely had we begun to re-cross the lines when we spotted the SE5s of our own C Flight in a furious scrap with a larger group of Fokker biplanes. Judging that the two seaters were safe for the moment, I lead our flight over to assist. The Huns were most upset to have us spoil their fun. I saw Glynn quickly dispatch one of them, which fell trilling a long black column of smoke. For several minutes my attention dashed from one EA to another as we swirled about. I went through a drum of ammunition for the Lewis gun in short snapshots at various Huns that flashed past. Finally, just after changing to a new drum, I saw a brownish green Fokker turning a little bit ahead. I caught the fellow by surprise and put a long burst into him. The enemy machine zoomed for a second and then fell into a spin, awkward and unsteady, clearly out of control. I watched it until it smashed into the ground far below. Number 53.

Bagging that Hun gave me a boost of confidence that I sorely needed since I had been feeling that I had lost my edge after returning from England. That evening I enjoyed the laughter and japes in the mess more than I had in a long time.

The next morning saw us dispatched on another escort patrol, again down south near Bethune. The weather was clear with puffy cumulus around 8000 feet. We approached the lines at 10,000 feet and quickly encountered a formation of a dozen Fokker biplanes. The first minutes of the scrap were truly frightening, and I came within a foot or two of a collision on at least two occasions. It was important to maintain altitude in the melee. Every time I was clear of a threat for a few seconds I would try to gain some height. Scarcely had I congratulated myself on finally attaining the high perch from which I could select a target when tracer rounds began zipping past my head. I knew enough to throw my machine into a vertical bank without looking back, so it took a few moments to see who was after me. To my shock, six or seven Albatri had joined the fray and at least three of them had selected me as their special friend. I threw my SE into a spin, now more than happy to give up my precious height advantage in order to draw closer to my comrades below, whose assistance I desperately needed.

I levelled off just above the clouds and found that only one of the newly-joined Albatri was still with me. As I turned towards him, a Pfalz flash past with an SE on its tail. We now had three different Hun formations mixing it up with us! I exchanged several head-on bursts with my friend in the Albatros and, when he showed some hesitation to circle back at me, I put my nose down and dived westward through the cloud layer. Near Bethune I met up with Glynn and Clements. Clem drew my attention to a group of aircraft far to the west. Close examination showed that they were the RE8s we had accompanied, thankfully unharmed.

Monday afternoon saw us on a close offensive patrol near Arras. We ran into a group of Hun Hannover two seaters and did great destruction, downing four of the beasts. I damaged at least three of them but had no claims since my comrades administered the coups de grace.

Attached Files Kill 53.jpg
#4572065 - 06/17/21 05:39 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Albert Tross Offline
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Lou - Kevin thought the PBI's could drink, these guys are another level.

Carrick - Those pesky hispanos. Thankfully Henri managed to get down ok

Raine - It's not a pleasure flying in those conditions but MacAlister made it so by dispatching that Fokker with aplomb. Then what sounds like a mighty melee, that's a foretaste of what's to come over the next months. Thankfully George came through it unscathed. Finally a good job on the Hannovers, they're a handful as they're not very big. There's not much to get underneath of.


"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
#4572080 - 06/17/21 07:47 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Albert Tross Offline
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2nd Lieutenant Kevin Carroll
41 Squadron
Conteville

7 confirmed kills

17th June 1918

Morning sortie

The Major took the briefing and explained that 'B' flight would be on a long jaunt up towards Poperinghe and Ypres. 'A' flight were already out targeting a Hun balloon. The weather was still pretty good but the large clouds of yesterday were still prevalent.

They took off and headed away north east after forming and climbing upto 12000 feet.

As they progressed and climbed up to 15000 feet, Kevin came through the layer of cloud. Coming through those huge cumulous clouds was nervy as shadows and sudden gaps played tricks on the mind.

They were about 5 minutes south of Ypres now and had climbed above the main clouds when Kevin saw specks ahead and below them. Flak bursts told him all he needed to know about friend or foe and he signalled the others and prepared to dive.

He saw the square box shape of DVII's and picked a target. He nosed over and down and dived onto the front right Hun. He fired and definitely scored hits.

Kevin climbed back up and looked for his target again. The Fokker had rolled and came around beneath Kevin who checked his six and then rolled and dived again. The Hun had read this move however and turned to the right. Kevin came around to the right as well but was a little lower than the Fokker now. He fired anyway to try and get the German to do something panicky. It worked as the Hun dived in front of Kevin who fired into him.

Kevin followed him down and blasted him. The Fokker levelled out and he hit him again. This burst hit the pilot and the Fokker nosed down into the ground.

Kevin levelled out and saw several aircraft over to the left and headed that way.

He spotted another Hun who seemed to have a bead on an SE below him. He pounced on the unsuspecting Fokker and hit him. The Fokker gave up his attack and tried to run.

Kevin nosed down and raced after him. He caught him within 30 seconds and put a long burst into him. Another burst and the Hun lost power and height and crashed into ground.

He formed up with a couple of nearby SE's and they headed home.

On landing he found that five Fokkers had been downed for the price of a couple of damaged SE's. 'A' flight had downed their balloon and a Pfalz, both going to Bill Claxton.


Afternoon sortie

Major Bowman explained that the squadron would be heading towards Bethune again. The Germans had a large presence all around that area and constantly challenged any claims of air superiority.

They had climbed up to 12000 feet in the good weather when Kevin saw enemy two seaters coming the other way. He signalled to the others and climbed up after them.

He saw the DFW's pass overhead and zoom climbed after them.

He came up underneath the lead aircraft unseen and blasted him with both barrels. The Hun shuddered and stalled as Kevin fired again. This time the Hun keeled over and lurched into a spin and spun all the way down into the ground.

By now the rest of 41 Squadron had joined the attack and by the time Kevin had come around for a crack at another Hun, they had either already been downed or had SE's swarming all over them.

Kevin thought better of getting involved and instead formed up. A couple of SE's had taken hits so the Major decided to return home.

The entire flight of DFW's had been downed.

After returning and filing their reports, the Major called everyone into the mess.

"Gentlemen, I've called you here to celebrate a fantastic day in the history of 41 Squadron. Your performance today was outstanding. You were aggressive but shrewd, determined but calm, powerful but clinical. You are driving fear into the hearts of the Hun. Keep it up!" said the Major to loud cheers.

Kevin learned all three claims had been confirmed, bringing him to 10.

Attached Files A1.jpgA2.jpgA3.jpgA4.jpgA5.jpgA6.jpgA7.jpgA8.jpgB1.jpgB2.jpgB3.jpg

"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
#4572095 - 06/17/21 10:44 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Fullofit Offline
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Ajax, ON
Albert, no wonder then these pilots lived their lives like it was their last one.
Kevin is becoming a killing machine in his SE. there is no foe he can’t take on and against greater odds at that. He will soon have to take command of his own. And I’m pretty sure the Gong Fairy is looking for another victim. Well done on the latest claims. You’ve caught the claims board on a good day once more.

Lou, the Gong Fairy can’t get everyone. winkngrin
Klaus’ wingmates tend to go blind when they’re flying with him. You know how it goes, if all the enemy planes are busy with Klaus they won’t bother anyone else.

Raine, I think the hardest part was realizing that I can come out of that spin after the wing went missing. The rest was a piece of cake. I’ve heard that expression somewhere.
It is clear now that George is fully back to his old self. Smashing enemy machines left and right. I have to say that maintains altitude is very important and Mac kept it up very well. Congrats on the latest confirmed claim.

17 June, 1918 07:45
Montingen, Verdun Sector
Jasta 18
Feldwebel Klaus Gustav Raben
Fokker D.VII
6 confirmed kills

Today was another ground forces support mission. This time near Nancy.
It looked like a carbon copy of the day before yesterday’s mission. Enemy planes attacked them from high level as they were approaching the Front. This time Klaus took precautions and placed his plane under the climbing Schwarm. Anyone trying to get at him would have to get through the rest of his flight and if they did, the rest of the Schwarm would have the advantage of swooping down on the enemy and clearing it off his tail. That was the theory at least. Did it work? Not in a least bit. As soon as the enemy showed up diving on Klaus, the rest of his Schwarm disappeared, as if they all decided to just fly to a safe distance and observe, expecting a good show. First came a SPAD but had little luck engaging and then after came the Strutters. One of them nearly shaved the tail off Klaus’ plane. He noticed his controls get mushy. He was hit repeatedly and had to get away. Thankfully the Fokkers decided to engage at this time and dispersed the band of Strutters. Klaus noticed one trying to cross the lines and get back home. Raben, despite the handicap, would not allow it. They started to circle each other, exchanging shots. Klaus was just one bullet faster on the draw and took out one of the enemy’s wings. The Strutter careened down and smashed into the ground. Klaus decided this was enough for today and returned back to base. On his arrival he could see some of the Fokkers circling the field already. It didn’t look like they’d fared any better.

YouTube Link



"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."
#4572108 - 06/18/21 12:34 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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NotRelevant Offline
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NotRelevant  Offline
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Most sincere apologies for the sudden disappearance. Life has gotten a little bit frustrating as of late in regards to dealing with some acquintances, so to say, amongst other things. But all is well, besides my patience, I think.
That being said, I am back as far as I'm aware! Might take a... rather long while to catch up though, hah! I do see already some pilots had the misfortunes of being sent off to meet their maker at the hands of their unmaker, huh. Most unfortunate!

As for Dean, Dean after spending a very long and a perhaps boring time at the hospital where he's more interested in getting out and back into the action than lying there thinking about how much he wishes he was somewhere else. Not even the nurses could help with that one, it seems! Regardless, he's very much on track for making a return to the Squadron on the 18th and hopefully doing well for himself from there! At least well enough to not land himself another trip right back into a hospital bed, reckon at that point he would be looking for the nearest potato-filled lorry to make his great escape in.


"Those who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think they're invincible.
I bet you do, too, Buddy."
#4572111 - 06/18/21 03:10 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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epower Offline
Artless Aide-de-camp
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Albert - Some proper bonding time for Kevin and his comrades, as well as a Mancunian catch-up with Beery. Boy, did things escalate quickly after that! Lucky thing the morning patrol went without incident, or Huns.
I don't know what's amiss with the early warning communications. Are the forward Observers just having rich tea and smoking all day? Conteville sure got a proper thrashing. Amazing the scope of repairs the NCOs and men can pull off overnight.
Kevin is McCuddenesque in his dispatching of the enemy 2 seaters, and not so bad with those Fokkers neither. Well done saving a squad mate. Congrats on 10. I suspect a special guest may be coming to visit Kevin soon. Cigar ash and Tulle...Be on your guard man!

Fullofit - Gott Im Himmel! Klaus definitely has a case of itchy neck. Or maybe he's eating all the vegetarian's red meat rations. Either way, if he wants to live long enough to wear the Blue Max in bed, he needs to turn for home when the ripping noises start...or he could attack a 2 seater and have a gun duel with the Observer. Yikes! Enemy tracers were going between the center struts. Between them, man!
As to WinningstadT, I noticed that some time back. I liked it better when I thought you were making clever reference to Oliver's naming ceremony from last May when Strugnell was calling him that.

Raine - Some tough sledding there in the foul weather. Nice work dispatching the Fokker. It seems the enemy appearing overhead seemingly out of the aether is how it goes now. Mac did well extricating himself from that bounce. 53. Well done!

Lou - Nice to see you back on the forum. Hope a Freddy sighting isn't far off.

Carrick - Another engine failure. Henri needs a real Hispano Hispano. One more victory and he's in the club. Henri must be smart. Nothing crazy now.

NR - Great to see you back. Dean must be out of his mind after so much time in hospital. Shame he didn't get into any trouble with the nurses, or did he?

MFair - Hope to see your new man this weekend.
____________________________________________

[Linked Image]


À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 88



18 May 1918
Royal Automobile Club
Pall Mall, London

Spent much of the day walking about, going over the plan again and again. Tried in vain to shop for Eliza but couldn’t decide on anything. My mind was scattered. Stewart's words from long ago leapt from memory:

“To those who study it closely enough, the limitless open sky becomes as good a place to lie in wait for an unsuspecting passer-by as a darkened alley off a sleazy street, and the sudden act of violence, when it comes, can be as deadly.”

I must turn that statement back to the original geography. Everything hinged on the sudden act of violence. The blow a man doesn’t see coming always lands the heaviest.

Light training in the gymnasium. My speed is back and the grabbing sensation in the left shoulder is nearly gone.

The Savoy bar at 7.00. Appearances must be maintained. Jimmy made me a flavored soda of some kind that looked just like champagne. I needed a clear head for what was coming. Rules at 8.30. As before I paced about the front as though waiting for someone. In the end I threw up my hands in exasperation and headed inside. Let them make of that what they would.

Dinner began with a beef consommé followed by a solitary beefsteak which through supreme effort of will, I took my time consuming. The waiter was gravely concerned when I declined both the scalloped potatoes and the creamed spinach. To allay suspicion and draw out the meal I ordered a small plate of cheeses but left it untouched. At the appointed time of 10.00, I left Rules and affecting drunkenness staggered my way across Maiden Lane then right toward the Bedford Intersection. Weaving along slowly, I paused in the light and bent over doing my best impression of a dry heave before moving unsteadily along and turning into Exchange Court.

I sprinted down the passage and ducked into my spot.

[Linked Image]

From my position behind the two stacked crates at the jog in the alley, I was cloaked in shadow. The top crate stood 3 inches off the wall giving me an observation slit through which I could see the narrow entrance to Exchange Ct. I wasn’t there more than 30 seconds when a nondescript man of medium build entered the alley. Moving cautiously at first, he stopped in the light briefly then proceeded toward me at a normal walk. His hands were empty.

If he continued at a walking pace, I could hit him a good one. If he moved past at speed, I’d have no choice but to grapple and try to get the Japanese strangle on him. After that I could drag him to the taxicab if necessary. My heart was hammering in my chest. I had to remind myself to breathe. He was very close …

Here we go!

I swung just as he passed the back edge of the crates. My right hook impacted the side of his neck just under the right ear. I felt my middle knuckle touch the hard underside of the jawbone. Amazingly, he didn’t go down but staggered backward from the punch and faced me unsteadily, leaning his back against the opposite wall of the narrow alley. The contact steadied him. He took half a step toward me and threw his left arm up protectively. The swinging kick with my left leg struck true, catching him square in the liver. He collapsed writhing on the ground. Two more hard right hands smashed his nose and rendered him insensate.

The man looked to be in his 40s. His hat was knocked away and his balding head suddenly reminded me of Professor Murray. A hasty search of his groaning person yielded nothing of interest. No tattoos on the wrist at least. I opened his jacket. There was a small revolver tucked in a holster under his left armpit which I removed and set aside. I felt toward his breast pocket. The thin leather gloves that shielded my knuckles made my fingers clumsy and the wallet kept catching on the pocket lining. The bulge within the leather felt solid. I’d just about worked it free when a shout ran down the alley.

“Fortesque! We have him! Where are you?”

The light from Maiden Lane silhouetted two men at the entrance to Exchange Ct. The bend in the alley behind me on the Strand side kept me in shadow but I wouldn’t be concealed for long.

Dammit!

Nothing for it but to retreat. I slipped off quickly toward the Strand, silently praying that Mr. Andrews’ taxicab was just around the corner. If not, I could race across the Strand to the Savoy and lose myself there. Andrews was there with the motor running. I leapt into the cab and we raced east down the Strand.

Complete failure. Realization dawned on me then of what a fool I’d been. For all the plans I’d set in motion to flush my watcher into an ambush, I’d not thought clearly enough about the endgame. Even if I’d had time to drag him to the Taxi, what then? Was he going to reveal all his nefarious schemes like some dime novel villain? Fortesque was his name. That was all. I learned nothing of value and now I’d tipped my hand to the watchers. If only I’d had time to examine his wallet.

The entire exercise was pointless. I took an extreme risk with my life for no reward whatsoever. Stupid, Oliver. Very, very stupid.




19 May 1918
Royal Automobile Club
Pall Mall, London

Wrote last night's entry then tried and failed to fall asleep. Nervous energy kept me awake for two hours then all at once it burned away. Oblivion. My stomach thwarted any attempt to sleep late. Whether last night’s combat or my very light dinner, I was ravenous. Uncertain as to my safety after last night's adventure, I resolved to spend the day at the RAC. I needed to think things through but not on an empty stomach. I breakfasted heavily on a double helping of scrambled eggs and a ham chop accompanied by a raft of toast and biscuits. The butter was rich and perfectly salted. The apricot and blackberry preserves were the perfect sweet to balance the ham.
A magnificent meal. Sated to the borderland of gluttony, I went back to bed.

No training today. I went for a swim then settled in for a long spell in the Turkish bath, thinking over my options. The Tepidarium was sufficient to stop me perspiring but left me feeling warm.

Still full from breakfast I made for the Reading Lounge which was surprisingly deserted. I settled into the corner chair and caught up on the newspapers.

“May I join you?” said a tall man in black standing before me. I had not seen his approach.

The entire room is empty and he wants to sit here?

I extended a hand to the facing chair across the low narrow table. “Please,” I said and returned to my newspaper. When I looked up again 30 seconds later, he was staring at me.

“My name is Tennyson,” he said. “I understand you are acquainted with my mother.”

Hiding my shock, I examined the man before me more closely and knew that he spoke the truth. The resemblance was striking; aquiline nose, noble brow and a head of wild black hair tamed by the narrowest of margins. His full beard was immaculately groomed though like his hair it fought to curl. Most disturbing were his deep black eyes which bored inward in their gaze as though plumbing the very depths of my soul in dispassionate judgment. I found it difficult to look him in the eye for any length of time.

“Rhea,” I said speaking my thoughts aloud and trying not to turn my eyes away.
This man was undoubtedly her eldest son, the one who inhabited some murky directorate of the War Office.

He nodded imperceptibly before continuing.

"Captain Winningstad, do you know this man?” Tennyson slid a photograph across the table.

[Linked Image]

Beetle eyes, jet black hair parted in the middle. The inflated scarlet features of his rage when Clarissa slapped him were nowhere to be found but it was the same man I’d seen then, and again a few nights ago at Murray’s.

“No, but I have seen him twice before. Last October he confronted a lady in a most ungentlemanly manner. Four days ago, he was in Murray’s Cabaret Club.”

Tennyson’s lip twitched minutely in the tiniest hint of a grin. One of his bushy eyebrows flicked upwards briefly.

“His name is Arthur Maundy Gregory. Among his many sordid occupations he is dealer in sensitive information. In addition, he is in the covert employ of His Majesty’s government where his main occupation is selling honours and peerages to raise money for Mr. Lloyd George and Liberal party, much as he did for Mr. Asquith. He also engages in forgery, blackmail and less savory endeavors in which people tend to disappear. Whether through these good graces, or through extortion he has the ear of the Prime Minister.”

Was Maundy Gregory the man Parker mentioned? Was he Hades?!

“Most pertinent to our conversation is his ongoing role as the head of an intelligence network operating here in London; a network in the service of one who enjoys sending you expensive bottles of Champagne from time to time, a man named Basil Zaharoff.

Mr. Zed. Zed Zed?! Parker warned me about him. Was he the man in the car?

“Who is Basil Zaharoff?” I asked.

“An arms merchant, and other things. The newspapers call him the Merchant of Death. He is that and much more, but I digress.”

“What has this to do with me?” I was suddenly on alert. “I’m an aviator, not an intelligence agent.”

“You are at this time a person of considerable interest to no less than three intelligence services, one of which is very much in the service of the Kaiser. The other two have, shall we say, more ambiguous allegiances.”

“I find that hard to believe.” I scoffed.

“You would be unwise to take this matter lightly, Captain Winningstad. Whatever skills you may possess, you are now, through unfortunate circumstance, caught up in a game which surpasses your understanding, and more to the point, your present ability to survive it, given your ignorance of the rules, stratagems, major players and ultimate goal.”

“The goal is to win the war, I should think.” I replied.

“No. The goal is wealth beyond imagination. Power. World Domination.”

He saw my look of incredulity.

“You are a student of the Classical world, are you not?”

How does he know that?


“Do you remember your Cicero? Nervos belli…” he ventured.

“pecunium infinitam,” I finished.

The sinews of war, infinite money.

“Have you ever given thought to the sheer mass of materiel and resources necessary to wage a modern war, and to who the infinite monies flow? I will tell you. Arms merchants, bankers, industrialists. The war creates profits, billions of pounds, and for this reason, it is allowed, even encouraged to continue.

“What you do not know is that many of the great decisions of government do not originate entirely from Whitehall, the Quai d'Orsay, Berlin or Washington, but rather they are subtly influenced from New York, London, Amsterdam, and Geneva. More recently from Pretoria and Shanghai. The Gods of old no longer intervene directly in the lives of men. In their place, stand captains of finance, commerce and industry, who may move a Prime minister, a President, even a king, all for their own purposes. At times they contest with one another, but they form alliances too, all to preserve the old order which provides them such wealth.

They are men of no nation and do business with all belligerents in time of war. To that end they created an arms race, then provoked a war in 1914. Now, they aim to prolong the war to the greatest extent possible. Some might call them a secret elite, I see them more as opportunists, very dangerous amoral opportunists.”

“Financiers and industrialists started the war?” I asked, incredulous. “Has Europe not been a tinder box for the past 20 years? Have you forgotten the Kaiser? The alliances? I think you exaggerate, sir.”

“Do I? Does the name Jean Juarès signify?

“No,” I answered. “Who is he?”

“Ask rather who he was. I’ll let you work that out for yourself.”

“You say this elite wish prolong the war for their own profit. How is that possible? What proof do you offer?”

Tennyson fixed me in his uncomfortable gaze. I was trying his patience, that much was clear. My intransigence visibly annoyed him and no doubt forced him into revealing more than he’d intended. He gave a sigh of exasperation and went on.

“This war could have ended in 1915 with the complete defeat of Germany.”

“What?! How?” I interjected.

“Had French armies destroyed the iron mines in the Briey basin in 1914, or in a subsequent offensive recaptured them or subjected them to bombardment, Germany would have long ago run out of the iron and steel necessary to wage war. Yet, the one officer who ordered such an attack was nearly court martialed. To this very day, the mines at Thionville provide Germany with 70% of her iron and steel, yet they remain untouched despite their location mere kilometers behind the front line.”

“This is quite a thrilling tale, Mr. Tennyson but what you claim beggars belief.”

“The knowledge is public, my dear Captain. French newspapers debated the Briey matter in December of 1916.”

While untold thousands of their sons were dying at Verdun mere miles away? Could it be true?

“Assuming what you say is true, I ask again, why are you telling me all of this? Why do you open your mind to a complete stranger in this way?”

“Even as the generals plan the Fall Offensive, their leaders prepare for the final drive and ultimate conquest of Germany in the Spring or Summer of 1919. However, the revolution in Russia changes everything and renders those plans moot. The Entente cannot act decisively until one question is answered, and that question is the state of Germany. How much longer can Germany endure the current blockade and accompanying starvation before a revolution occurs? Can she continue to wage war into 1919 or is a revolution imminent?”

“If the former, American manpower will create an overwhelming advantage for the Entente, and enable the military conquest of Germany, thus eliminating once and for all time the threat of Prussian militarism on the continent.”
If the latter, then the war must end this year, before the cancer of Bolshevism can take root in the heart of Europe.”

“Which brings me to this.” He slid a gold coin across the table.

Impossible! It was an Elizabethan sovereign identical to the one Clarissa had given me, right down to the hole for the chain.

“Have you examined the one she gave you? Did you notice any alterations on the obverse?”

[Linked Image]

I had indeed. I picked the coin up and scanning the obverse there they were.

I’ll be damned.

The same small beads dug out. One under the letters C, L, R, S and A. Around to the right, under the second letter ‘C’ two beads were missing. It was something a child might do.

I thought they were the same as the coin she’d given me but I couldn’t be sure. I loosened my tie, unbuttoned the collar and drew the clinking array of my ident tags over my head. I’d tied Clarissa’s coin on the same twine but farther up so it wouldn’t hit the ID disk or the medical tag showing my allergy to Benzocaine. Eliza’s St. Jude remained hidden away on its own chain.

My sartorial gymnastics drew a raised eyebrow from Tennyson but he said nothing as I compared the two coins side by side. The markings were identical. I donned my tags again and redressed my shirt and tie.

“What does Clarissa have to do with all this?” Is she in danger? She told me she was going away. Where is she?”

Tennyson paused here, either for effect or debating if he should continue.

“As to her location, I am not at liberty to say, but yes, Clarissa is in the gravest danger. She is one of those who may help answer the great question. We have not heard from her through the usual channels. I suspect the worst.”

I was trying to remain calm in the face of this latest intelligence. Clarissa was ‘over the wire’ Gods alone knew where conducting some manner of espionage. Tennyson knew much more than he was telling, d*mn him.

“Where is she?!” I demanded.

“Has she attempted any communication with you?” asked Tennyson, ignoring my outburst.

“No. She told me not to write. She was going away and wouldn’t get the letters. This was at the New Year.”

“If she does, it is vital that you contact me immediately.”

“And how will I do that?”

“I will provide you with the means," he said reassuringly.

"Very well."

"There is one additional matter, Captain, that being last night’s escapade.”

The familiar cold knot of fear took root in my gut and spread its frigid tendrils upwards.

“You set the trap with considerable forethought and no small amount of cunning. Your visits to The International created quite a stir amongst those very intelligence agencies tracking your movements. As to your quarry he did indeed take the bait. It is unknown if he planned to murder you but given the weapons on his person, I believe it so. Fortunately for you, we apprehended him and two of his associates before they entered the alley. These men are now in our custody and will soon prove cooperative.

“Apprehended?! Then who …”

“The man you disabled was Special Branch, currently working for me.”

“He was a policeman?! Gods below!”

“Indeed."

“I left him alive. He is recovering, yes?”

“That he is. However, it would be best in future if you did not assault those assigned to protect you.”

“What do you mean, protect me?!” I snapped. “I’ve been stalked like an animal for the last two weeks.”

“For much longer than that, my dear Captain,” he said drolly. “Since last October in point of fact.
Your actions then thwarted a move against me by Maundy Gregory, thereby attracting the unwelcome interest of some very powerful men. Members of that very same elite I mentioned earlier. That was when you came to my attention as well.”

“Two men came to take Clarissa. I stopped them.”

“You did more than that,” he said flatly. “Neither survived the encounter.”

Mr. Right hanging on the fence, gurgling out his life

I suspected all along that I’d killed the two, but to hear it confirmed was still a shock. All pretense of nonchalance evaporated then. I took a deep breath as Smokey taught me and let out a long slow exhale.

Breathe, Oliver.

“I assume you saw the Dragon’s Eye tattoo on their wrists when you searched them. They were men of no consequence, top level ruffians for hire, nothing more,” said Tennyson. “Since that time, you have been under my protection when in London. It has proven a useful arrangement after all.
Quis custodiet ipsos custodes?”

Who watches the watchers?

“You used me as bait?!” My voice was a loud shout of outrage. “You used me as bait!” I repeated more quietly, this time in a low hiss.

“Yes. Tracking those who followed you produced a treasure trove of information. I should like to continue employing you in this fashion. May I count on your restraint toward any watchers?”

Rage. The hot burst of wrath, then the icy clarity that speeds the thought. I envisioned an ancient dusty plain under the high walls and in my hand the strong ash spear. I made no vain cast…

“You are looking at me in the most predatory manner, Captain Winningstad,” he said, raising a quizzical eyebrow. “I almost think you intend me harm.”

“I wonder if you can feel the touch of the pitiless bronze,” I said.

His eyes grew wide and with both eyebrows now raised he favored me with an appraising look. Again, the ebon gaze drove inward, I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention. I refused to look away, and immediately wished I had. When he spoke, I felt the air grow cold and despite my anger and flushed state from the Turkish bath, I shivered.

“You were meant for another age, Captain Winningstad. We have that in common.”

He smiled briefly then training the black eyes upon me, he continued, “she chose you well, I see that now.
I may yet require your service before this war is over. Clarissa may need you as well. I wish you good fortune, Captain. When you storm into the struggle of flying horses, and fateful portions of death which lays men prostrate are set upon the scales, may your death day ever prove the lighter.”

He stood and walked away without another word. I sat there frozen in place, dumbfounded by what I’d just heard.

Last edited by epower; 02/07/23 02:10 AM.
#4572124 - 06/18/21 08:17 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
Joined: Jun 2009
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catch Offline
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catch  Offline
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QLD, Australia

Superb epower. I don't know where you find the time to have sex or other mere mortal pastimes for that matter such is the depth and rapidity of your musings. I am stunned by the quality of your writing and story telling. Bravo sir!

#4572128 - 06/18/21 08:55 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Albert Tross Offline
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Fullofit - That was a very interesting mission for young Raben. It's very cunning of the French to have their vulnerable SPADs escorted by Strutters. Clearly those Strutters pilots around Verdun have been to the same school of insane piloting skills as those in Flanders. Raben was cool and determined against that two seater despite a damaged crate and it paid off. Someone needs to tell HQ that these new Fokkers are built with altitude in mind, not ground support.

NR - Good to hear from you again. RL is just that and won't bow down for any interest or hobby so don't worry. Glad to see Cunningham is on the mend and nearly back.

Epower - Wow what a read that was. Great stuff. So piece by piece the story is unravelling but at huge risk to Oliver and now Clarissa. This plot to have the war continue to aid the industrialists and financiers is not a new one. Jean Juarès was the French pacifist and socialist who was assassinated on the first day of the war for daring to say the workers of Germany would never make war on the workers of France.

Hmm how to play this now is of prime importance to Oliver's safety, nevermind the war effort. Dare he get closer to Eliza now and risk her involvement? I think not, painful as that would be. Oliver needs to return to the front and leave the political scheming to those with a penchant for it.


"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
#4572135 - 06/18/21 09:51 AM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Trooper117 Offline
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Bloomin eck! That was a do or die assault on that strutter Fullofit... and I thought at one stage one of the #%&*$# things was going to ram you!

#4572164 - 06/18/21 03:59 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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carrick58 Offline
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epower: Just Super, U and Raine are pouring out Epics.

#4572170 - 06/18/21 04:42 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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epower Offline
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Albert - The postwar Briey investigation from La Bataille de la Frontière (Août 1914), Briey, by Fernand Engerand was very interesting reading, even through google translate. Oliver doesn't know about Jean Juarès yet but I suspect he'll get to the British Library for some research in the coming days. As to why Juarès met his end, the official story is a bit thin, IMHO. Something very interesting happened the next day. No fair telling if you know seehearspeak That goes for all of you, btw.

As for staying away from Eliza, I think you underestimate the depth of Oliver's feeling for her. Good thing he doesn't have any issues with impulse control...

Catch - You will notice, good sir, that my narrative lags a full month in arrears. This little gadget from the Potterverse would sure come in handy about now.

[Linked Image]

As for mortal pursuits, how do you think I research all the romantic interludes in Oliver's tale? biggrin
Must dash, there is not a moment to be lost!

#4572176 - 06/18/21 05:26 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Albert Tross Offline
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Epower - I might have to have a gander at that report. As for Juarès, you may well be right, as for the next day, a lot happened but I can't be sure what you're alluding to and wouldn't tell even if I did thumbsup

As for Oliver and Eliza, oh I'm sure it's the real thing. But if they're unaware of her at this moment and Oliver leads them to her.........(dramatic music).

Looking forward to the next episode popcorn


"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
#4572178 - 06/18/21 05:31 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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BuckeyeBob Offline
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Superb, epower, simply superb. I know very little about Jean Juarez, other than he was assassinated. Intrigue at the highest levels!

I think we should consider granting Mr. Winningstad an exemption from the DiD rules. We need him alive to finish the story!


“With Major Lawrence, mercy is a passion. With me it is merely good manners. You may judge which motive is the more reliable.”
#4572181 - 06/18/21 06:05 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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VonS Offline
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Wonderful narratives gents - popped in here recently, after several months, and found the writing top-notch.

Really enjoying the Winningstad adventures, Epower - that latest installment was hair-raising, complete with Shanghai gutter fighting.

Nice to see the adventures heading in the direction both of film noir and Victorian thriller, with touches of M.R. James and Sax Rohmer.

One of these days I will have to collect the Winningstad exploits in pdf format, for good fireside reading, as well as Raine's tales, particularly the Capt. Collins series. Well done all - your exploits have pleasantly reminded me of Fullofit's Aldi Schwarzkopf adventures in the "DiD Centenary Thread" from a while back. Perhaps the Gong Fairy can create an "Aldi Literary Award" for this thread?

Once I upgrade my FM pack for BH&H2, I will seriously consider hanging up my modding hat (time to retire from modding) - and to join you here in the DiD threads - by then we should be back in 1914/15 I am estimating so I look forward to entering the fray at the beginning of the war. yep

Happy DiDing,
Von S


~ For my various FM/AI/FPS/DM Mods. for First Eagles 2, WoFF, RoF & WoTR, and tips for FlightGear, recommended is to check over my CombatAce profile (https://combatace.com/profile/86760-vons/) and to click on the "About Me" tab while there. ~
#4572185 - 06/18/21 06:27 PM Re: Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018) [Re: Raine]  
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Albert Tross Offline
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2nd Lieutenant Kevin Carroll
41 Squadron
Conteville

10 confirmed kills

18th June 1918

Morning sortie

Captain Chappell took the briefing and confirmed that 'B' flight would be heading out towards Arras. Major Bowman had a meeting with the brass but would be back this afternoon.

'B' flight was swollen to include no less than 10 pilots by the time they took off and headed south east. They'd climbed up to 15000 feet by the time they reached the lines and the patrol was going quietly at first.

The weather was good but the clouds were definitely massing as Kevin and the rest turned north for what would be their last leg of their patrol.

Out of one of the clouds appeared a large formation of aircraft. Both formations saw each other at once and 'B' flight turned towards the enemy.

Kevin, at the back of the group, climbed up and tried to gain as much height as possible before the formations collided.

He could see the enemy aircraft were Fokker biplanes and he looked for a target. He saw one of the Huns apparently getting the better of an SE and he dived onto the German. He fired and drove the enemy aircraft away.

The other SE, flown by Lieutenant Stanley Puffer, another of the Canadians, from Olds, Alberta, now joined Kevin in boxing the Fokker in.

Finally Kevin, with the keener eye and greater speed blasted the enemy aircraft and the Hun nosed down and went straight into the ground.

Kevin took stock and saw an ongoing melee ahead and flew over there, taking the opportunity to climb a little.

He spotted another Fokker in a turn looking to engage an SE a little below him. Kevin wasted no time in hitting the Fokker to break off his attack and the enemy aircraft dived.

Kevin read this however and powered into a dive and put the remaining lewis drum and a fair dose of vickers into the Hun. The right upper wing of the Fokker tore away and left it spinning down into the ground.

On checking around he could only see what looked like a solitary Hun already running across the lines and decided to form up with the couple of SE's he could see nearby. Together they headed home.

On landing, seven Fokkers had been claimed but not without loss. 2nd Lieutenant Stephen Keigwin had been shot down and from those who saw it, not a cat in hell's chance he'd be alive.

This dampened the euphoria, Keigwin had only joined the week before Kevin and was from Cardigan in Wales.


Afternoon sortie

After a subdued lunch, Major Bowman had returned and grabbed Kevin and Captain Stephens. "We have a job to do chaps. HQ want a balloon brought down asap. As you can see the weather has closed in so it'll just be us three. Get over there, get the #%&*$# thing and get back" said the Major.

"What if we run into opposition sir? There being only three of us?" asked Kevin.

"You are to avoid all contact with the enemy unless directly attacked, that is an order chaps....got it!" demanded Bowman.

"Yes sir" confirmed the other two.

Twenty minutes later they were airborne and forming up. The weather had indeed taken a turn for the worst. The clouds had formed up and driving rain, helped by strong winds, was the order of play.

They heads off due east towards the lines. Kevin nervously checked around but thankfully found nothing.

They began their decent towards the enemy balloon and Kevin could see the balloon bobbling about in the wind.

He lined up and blasted the balloon hard. Thick smoke started rising up and then another plume as Kevin climbed over it and looked back. He was turning for another shot when he heard the balloon explode.

The three airmen formed up and raced back towards Conteville.

As Kevin came in to land he saw several other SE's in a landing cycle.

On touching down he parked up alongside some of the other SE's and recognised them as 24 Squadron.

He clambered down as several of the 24 Squadron pilots were walking back.

"Hello there, 41 Squadron is it?" said one of the pilots. "Yes, 2nd Lieutenant Kevin Carroll" said Kevin.

"Pleased to meet you. Captain Horace Barton." said the other pilot in the twang of a South African.

"Busy afternoon sir?" said Kevin.

"Yes, I'll say, had a run in with some Fokkers west of Bethune. You?" said the Captain.

"Just back from bursting a Hun balloon" said Kevin.

"Good show, well, best go and clean up. Hope to see you again Lieutenant Carroll. In fact I might bring a couple of the other chaps over to the 41 Squadron mess later if this #%&*$# rain eases up" said Barton.

"Look forward to it sir" said Kevin.

A short while later Major Bowman confirmed that Lieutenant Keigwin's body had been recovered.

There was no news on Kevin's claims yet, but he wasn't concerned as he made his way over to the mess.

Attached Files A1.jpgA2.jpgA3.jpgA4.jpgA5.jpgA6.jpgA7.jpgA8.jpgB1.jpgB2.jpgB3.jpgScreenshot_20210618-192346~2.png

"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
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