Jasta 11, Flanders, April 1917 An Albatros having brought a swift end to my first RFC career in WoFF - BHaH II, I decided to swap sides and fly a V-strutter against the RFC. It's 1 April 1017 and I'm a flight leader in the Red Baron's Jasta 11, no less, based at Douai, quite close to the Lines
My first mission of the day was an early-morning patrol over the trenches, but we didn't get that far, diverting to tackle a flight of DH2 'pusher' fighters that had the temerity to fly over our base soon after we took off. They dived down onto us as we climbed up after them and a jolly time was then had by all. I'm quite certain I got one of them, but forgot to make a claim so that won't be credited.
It was just after mid-day when we were tasked with a second patrol of the nearby Lines. Again I found myself leading a flight of six V-strutters, with several real-life aces for company including Manfred and Lothar von Richtofen, no less. The weather was cloudy but fine as we climbed for height.
We had barely reached 2000 meters, just north of Lens and still well on our own side of the lines, when rounds began to whack into my machine and tracers sprayed all around me. We'd been caught completely by surprise, by a slight of the deadly Sopwith Triplanes. Like this one, which I snapped at the RAF Museum Hendon a couple of weeks back.
Unfortunately, I completely failed to get any screenies during the air fight which followed. I was too busy trying to keep my virtual pilot alive! The nippy triplanes were all over us and completely dominated the fight from above. The only thing which saved us was their single-slow-firing pop-pop-pop guns, as Arthur Gould Lee described the synchronised Vickers gun.
Twisting and turning as best I can, I managed to collect only a few more hits but fighting against adverse yaw especially it seemed in right-hand turns, I had to keep forcing the nose down to get around in a tight enough turn. so I very quickly ended up on the deck. Meanwhile the fight was still going on, by now mostly also low but above me, with a few burning wrecks on the ground marking out the casualties. I could see that at least a couple of my flight were still in action, thank goodness. I even managed to get off some rounds at passing triplanes, relying on my much superior firepower to do what inferior performance (and probably lesser flying skill) could not.
In the end, I managed to escape from the fight for long enough to put on a bit of height. Then I turned around, came back in and managed to get some decent hits on a triplane which I caught by surprise. The damage seemed to take the edge of his aerobatics - I noticed later that part of one lower wing had come away - and down he went, next to some of the other victims!
By this time the combat seemed to have petered out and I spiral climbed while waiting for the others to join up. I was fairly sure that my engine wasn't producing full power so the plan was, assemble the flock and go home. We must have expended much of our ammunition; I was expecting mine to run out at any time.
In the end, just two D.IIIs showed up.
Expecting that my motor would conk out at any time, I ordered the boys to split formation and steered for the nearest airfield, at Harbourdin.
My landings are rarely of the best but this one was good enough.
This time I remembered to make my claim. the debrief recorded that we lost one pilot and two aircraft, including Manfred von Richthofen's machine. In return, we're claiming three victories including my own.
In the circumstances, I'm grateful I got out of it alive!