Dark Days Of Summer (Innocents At War Series, Book 4)

by Andrew Wareham

  There were aircraft at low level, stooging around in circuit of a landing field, certainly well-covered by machine-guns on the perimeter. Tommy looked further, more than half expecting to discover their big brothers running escort above them. He picked out a group of six biplanes in loose formation at about six thousand feet, old Fokkers by the looks of them, possibly all that was available, more likely to be pilots at a more advanced level of training. He looked higher, was distracted by a flare from Blue.

  Green, which said that he was taking his Flight off in pursuit of trade. Tommy looked across, saw that Blue was turning to the east, climbing towards a group of dots at the limit of visibility to Tommy. Fred had them in sight, too, was peeling off in their direction. Frank was climbing as well, but coming towards him. Tommy looked up, craning his head back. Four biplanes, winging in from thirteen or fourteen thousand feet; if they were single-seaters then they were definitely new. Several of the existing two-seaters were capable of that height, but these looked smaller, and he could not see the hump of an observer behind the pilot.

  Thirty seconds in hand; Tommy turned, pointed to David and Rozzer, swept his arm towards the Fokkers at six thousand, saw them drop a wing and dive as steeply as they could onto their target.

  Fifteen seconds. Tommy raised his right arm, pumping upwards, and climbed hard, banking to starboard, Sebastian tight on his tail.

  The four German biplanes pulled out of their dives, heaving back on their control levers as hard as they dared. Tommy flicked out of the half-roll and onto the tail of the third of the group, Sebastian still with him, edging onto the fourth. They opened fire almost together, short bursts at very close range, hard to miss, one catching fire, the other dropping into a vertical fall, impossible to recover from. The front pair fell back into their dives, pouring on the power and at least as fast as the Pup and able to take a steeper angle, presumably confident in a robust frame; they pulled out of range and angled towards David and Rozzer who were tackling their second Fokker apiece. There was nothing Tommy could do for them – they would see the biplanes or they would not, and he could not warn them. He looked towards Sebastian, saw him pointing urgently.

  Tommy followed Sebastian’s arm, saw that there had been three parties at high, the second group almost within range, the third mixing it with Frank’s Flight. He knew he could not outdive them, turned towards in a shallow climb.

  One of the planes coming down had a yellow streamer, he saw. Flight Commander or its equivalent, he presumed and settled on a direct line towards him, head to head, opening fire at about one hundred yards. He saw flames around the German gun as well. The German pilot twitched and they passed each other, bouncing in the disturbed air; Tommy pulled into the hardest bank to starboard he had ever risked in the Pup, discovered where she wanted to fall into a spin, held her, just, and found he could turn well inside the Albatros, which he presumed it to be. He hoped Sebastian was with him, dared not look around, pushed his nose a fraction down and came onto the tail of the diving German before he could get out of range. He fired a long burst, allowing the vibration of his own plane to give a scatter to his shots, saw the rudder shred and the pilot lose control and flip over into a long spin.

  ‘Bad way to go’, he thought, wondering just how long it would take to spin in from five thousand feet. He risked a glance behind him, saw a plane on his tail, had time to realise that it was not Sebastian as the first rounds buried themselves in the fuselage, walking up towards the cockpit.

  He snatched violently to starboard and lost control, fell into his own spin.

  “Good night, nurse. Sorry, Monkey.”

  He saw the Albatros pull out and head back to the east, satisfied in its kill, as he entered the third revolution. He gave the controls a try, remembering the theory he had postulated.

  Control lever centralised and far forward. Blip the throttle repeatedly, reducing power. Look at the ground circling around his head, the trees getting bigger and bigger. A splash of flame where his late opponent had just hit, and the rotation slowed and stopped and the wings began to do their job. He pulled very gently back on the lever, came out of the dive at two hundred feet and climbed hard away, not liking the height over the German rear lines. At three thousand Sebastian appeared at his side, mouth open and waving frantically.

  Tommy looked around, but they were alone in the air. He oriented himself and turned the nose towards home. Sebastian pointed towards the ground, indicating the landing field they had spotted first; there were bonfires burning around the perimeter; David and Rozzer had been thorough, it seemed. He hoped that none of the flames were their pyres.

  They landed, hard on the tails of the pair, both showing tears in their fabric, neither seriously damaged.

  “You know, Tommy, I could have sworn I saw you spinning in,” David said.

  “You did!” Sebastian broke in. “He got out of a spin!”

  “Centralise controls and then push the lever forward. Throttle as far back as possible, and let the plane do the work. So much surface area on the Pup, it wants to behave itself.”

  “No attempt to reverse the spin first?”

  “No. Let the plane do the job. That’s what the wings are for, after all. It ain’t going to work every time – you normally go into a spin because some evil-minded Jerry has been shooting at you and has damaged your plane. But, I think it is the answer if your machine is working.”

  Tommy swore inwardly – he knew that they would try themselves.

  “I used up the better part of five thousand feet – don’t go in low!”

  They drank it all in, yearning to try for themselves. They would have their planes up for testing just as soon as the mechanics released them.

  “Got two, Bridge. New Albatros, I think. We can turn inside them. They might be faster than a Pup, seem to be able to dive harder. Not so hot on the climb, and, like I said, stiffer turning on the level. Caught by a third and went into a spin. Got out of it – you will want to send details of the way to do it, Bridge.”

  Sebastian claimed just one, confirmed Tommy’s kills, and his spin.

  David and Rozzer had played hell with the Fokkers, claimed five between them. They had finished off with a brace of monoplanes, they said, just to teach the new boys their manners. Ground fire had been a little too stiff to chase the remainder.

  Blue and Fred and Frank landed with no losses and their own claims. They heard about the spin and demanded to do it themselves.

  Colonel Kettle absolutely forbade them to practice, then realised he was wasting his time and demanded they start from ten thousand feet, so that they would have height to try twice if first time did not work. He could not understand why they laughed at him.

  The weather closed in, a hard autumn, and they suffered a wet and windy spell for two months, lucky to get off the ground twice in a week, and seeing almost nothing when they were up.

  Colonel Kettle sent them off for leave, a Flight from each squadron at a time. He fretted that they were losing the advantage of the new planes, but could do nothing.

  The rains eased in November, and the weather grew colder and thick fog became the norm. Then it started to snow.

  Colonel Kettle called Tommy to his office, showed him a thick wad of orders.

  “We could have destroyed the whole German Air Service, Tommy. But we can’t bloody fly! Squadron is to stand down. Aircraft will remain here and will be taken over by a newly raised squadron from England; it will be given the squadron number. You will take yourselves to various postings, mostly in training, throughout England. Noah’s people will be doing the same. You can all expect, and will get, six months in England; they have finally accepted that there is such a thing as fatigue. You and Noah will report to General Henderson for specific assignments. What you will be doing, I do not know, Tommy, but I am quite certain that neither of you will be flying to war for the next half-year.”

  Tommy nodded his acceptance of the orders – not that he had any choice.

 
“I’m getting tired, sir. I could use a rest from flying. Well, from this sort of flying, anyway. Twenty-eight months of it, so far, and no bloody end in sight. I can take six months off without being afraid that the war will end while my back’s turned.

  # # #

  Thank you for reading Dark Days Of Summer. If you get a spare moment, please consider leaving a short online review for the book wherever you can. The fifth book in the series is expected to be released in late summer/autumn, 2017. In the meantime, please take look at the author’s other books listed on the following pages.

  By the Same Author

  A Poor Man at the Gate Series: Book One: The Privateersman is FREE on Kindle -Escaping the hangman’s noose in England, commoner Tom Andrews finds himself aboard a privateering ship before fleeing to New York at the time of the Revolutionary War. It is a place where opportunities abound for the unscrupulous. Hastily forced to return to England, he ruthlessly chases riches in the early industrial boom. But will wealth buy him love and social respectability?

  Kindle links to the whole series:

  US/worldwide

  http://tinyurl.com/A-Poor-Man

  UK only

  http://tinyurl.com/A-Poor-Man-UK

  The Duty and Destiny Series: These superbly-crafted novel length sea/land stories are set in the period of the French Revolutionary War (1793 – 1802). The series follows the naval career and love-life of Frederick Harris, the second son of a middling Hampshire landowner, a brave but somewhat reluctant mariner. (Book One was first published in 2014.) Please note: This series is currently available to Kindle Unlimited subscribers.

  Kindle links to the whole series:

  US/worldwide:

  http://tinyurl.com/Duty-and-Destiny-Series

  UK only:

  http://tinyurl.com/Duty-and-Destiny-Series-UK

  Man of Conflict Series: Youngest son of a wealthy English merchant, Septimus Pearce is an utterly spoiled brat whose disgraceful conduct threatens his family’s good name. His father forces him to join the army in an attempt to reform him, but even the disciplines of army life where he sees bloody action in three countries fail to exorcise his nastier character traits. Please note: This series is currently available to Kindle Unlimited subscribers.

  Book One Kindle Link http://getBook.at/Conflict-1

  Born in a home for fallen women, at the age of eight the barefooted and waiflike Harry is sent out to work. After years of unpaid toil and hunger, he runs away and is cajoled into believing that the Army is his only option. He joins a battalion that is sent to Africa’s Slave Coast where disease is the biggest killer of men. When the much-thinned battalion returns to England and is disbanded, he drifts into smuggling in order to survive. All goes well until he is betrayed and forced back on the run. Leaving the West Country behind, he enlists in a Sussex regiment which is sent to quell rioting in the north where he faces danger from the angry Mob, and from the rage of a sadistic young ensign who is out for Harry’s blood.

  Universal Kindle Link

  http://viewbook.at/Harry-One

  Book One: Long Way Place

  In the early 1900s gutter rat, Ned Hawkins aims to rise from the grinding poverty of an English slum, but is forced to flee the country and ends up in Papua. It is a dangerous place where cannibalism and cannibals are never far away. Despite this menacing backdrop, he prospers and almost by accident, finds love. However, there are ominous stirrings in the land that bode ill for the future. Note: Book Two is now available on Kindle.

  Universal Kindle Link: http://getbook.at/Cannibal-One

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