1916 Angels over the Somme

by Griff Hosker

  I waited until we were just fifty feet from the yellow tail. I gave a short ranging burst as I slowly lifted the nose. Once I hit I gave a longer burst. The effect was to stitch a trail of bullets until they struck the pilot in the back and the aeroplane spiralled away. Lumpy fired as soon as I did and he hit the tail of the next aeroplane in line.

  I banked to starboard and another biplane, not a Fokker this time, came into my sights. I saw it for barely a heartbeat but I pressed on the trigger and saw that I had struck it. Lumpy fired half a magazine and he must have hit the fuel tank for the aeroplane exploded in a fireball throwing us up into the air. I fought the Gunbus to regain control. Luckily it was a stable aeroplane and we soon began to fly straight and level.

  The Major and his aeroplanes were still in their circle and heading west. It was a slow process but a safe one. We had the option of joining them but I felt we had the upper hand. I began to climb. I noticed Lumpy changing his magazine. He never wasted any time. He wanted to be ready to fire as soon as he saw a target. As soon as he had reloaded, and as I banked, a Fokker began to climb to attack us. Hutton leaned around as far as he could and fired a short burst. Sergeant Laithwaite’s gun behind joined in and as I completed the turn the two sergeants had him in a cross fire. The bullets penetrated the engine and I watched as the propeller stopped and smoke began to pour from the engine. It started a deep death dive to the ground. The pilot had no chance.

  “Well done, Sergeant.”

  “Up ahead sir.”

  I looked and saw two biplanes diving at me. I lifted the nose and aimed for the one on the left which would soon be in my sights when I completed my turn. “Lumpy, take the one on the right!”

  The two aeroplanes began firing. They were trying to emulate the two sergeants and get me in crossfire. However I could fire at both of them. I heard the tear of canvas as their steel tipped shells ripped into my wings. I waited. Lumpy fired before I did. When I opened up a moment later the Fokker tried to bank away. It was a mistake. In this game of dare he had blinked first and paid the price. My bullets tore into his fuselage. I watched as he continued his dive towards his own lines. He would land but he was out of the combat. Lumpy had also damaged the second biplane and it too began to limp east.

  I watched as Lumpy changed magazines and I dived after the two fleeing enemy aeroplanes. Our bullets had slowed them down and we began to catch them. I hoped that my two pilots were still watching my tail. I took a chance and fired at eighty feet. I saw my bullets rip into the tail of the German. The damage caused by Lumpy had already made it unstable and when the controls were shot away it just dived into the ground. I banked and began to climb. As I did so I heard the rattle of a Lewis gun and saw Johnny finish off the Fokker I had damaged.

  As we turned west again I saw that Major Leach had left the circle and was leading three of his aeroplanes towards the fleeing Germans. I slowly pulled the stick around so that we, too, were heading east. We were a little behind the others but I watched as two more Germans were destroyed. When Major Leach turned west again we began to climb. We would make a protective umbrella high above the others.

  I saw Lieutenant Green’s bus on the ground. He and his gunner looked to have survived but I could not see on which side of the lines they had landed. The front line on the third day of the Somme was a very fluid affair. I could see that, as we flew over the infantry, the static lines of a few weeks ago had gone. It looked to me as though they were fighting in woods, across hedgerows and over roads. That would be close combat and ugly. We were lucky to be soaring so high above the ground. And then I thought of the German whose aeroplane’s engine had been hit by Lumpy and me. His death would not have been any better.

  As soon as we landed Sergeant Hutton and I checked over the aeroplane for damage. It looked to be the wings and the tail which had been hit. They would not take long to repair. The newer Gunbuses did not have the tripod wheel and I was grateful for that. The front wheel used to get shot up too easily for my liking making the landing very difficult.

  I headed for the adjutant’s office when I landed. I had a report to give and I was keen to hear what the Major had to say. He was just finishing when I entered. “Well done, laddie, although it was a wee bit dangerous to head over their lines.”

  It was as close to a dressing down as Archie could manage. “It was a calculated risk, sir, and we managed to down two more of the enemy. It’s a war of attrition on the ground and in the air now.”

  “Aye, you are right and the Gunbus is a solid little plane. They can soak up a lot of damage.”

  “But those Fokkers are much faster than we are and they had another new one there too.”

  Randolph flourished a sheet of paper, “A Halberstadt. We just had a memo from headquarters.”

  “That means we have to fly smarter.”

  “It does indeed, Captain Harsker.”

  I pointed to the map. “The same sector tomorrow then?”

  Captain Marshall shook his head. We have to send the four flights out on reconnaissance tomorrow. The brass want to know where the front line has reached and what the Germans are doing just behind their lines.”

  Archie sank into a chair. “Great, that means I’ll have to take two virgins out tomorrow.”

  I walked over to the map. “Which is the patrol which will be the easiest?”

  Randolph joined me, “Here, Bazentin le Petit and Mametz woods. They are the closest to the airfield.”

  “Then why don’t you patrol that with the virgins. The rest of us all have the experienced pilots anyway.”

  “I don’t like to do that Bill.”

  “I know but Freddie and Johnny are the most experienced pilots. They can handle the pressure.”

  “You are right and Randolph, see if you can find out what happened to Lieutenant Green eh?”

  We were about to leave when the Colonel came in and angrily slammed a letter on the desk. “Those damned brass hats have not got the first idea about esprit de corps and pride in a regiment.”

  Archie and I had no idea what had upset him but Captain Marshall read the letter and said, “It seems that Number 11 Squadron is so successful that they are giving that number to a brand new squadron of Gunbuses. They are straight from Blighty. It is hoped that the cachet of the name will give the new pilots confidence. We are to become Number 41 Squadron.”

  I knew what the colonel meant. I had had real pride in my yeomanry regiment and it had had a history going back to the Napoleonic Wars. “Well sir, it isn’t as though we use the number 11 a great deal. I think the men will get used to it.” The colonel shook his head, “Besides we can create a name for ourselves. Why don’t we use the name, 41 Squadron?” They all looked at me as though I was cracked. “The Germans identify their aeroplanes and leaders. We could paint the number 41 on the tail and then the flight number on the cockpit. That way the men won’t worry about the number 11. We could even make the 4 and the 1 interlink to make them look distinctive; it could become a sort of squadron insignia.”

  I saw Randolph nod and when Archie spoke I knew I had his support. “I think it is a good idea. And the flight and number will help us when we are in the air. It is worth a try sir. It is just a lick of paint after all.”

  We waited expectantly, “Very well go ahead.” He stuck his jaw out pugnaciously, “But those brass hats are still idiots!”

  When we went to our aeroplanes the next day the identification numbers had been painted on and they made everyone stop and stare. We all had the flight and then a number. I was C 1.

  Johnny liked his. “Number 2 is my favourite number! Excellent! That is a good luck sign!”

  Everyone found something to like about the new numbers. Most of the sergeants and many of the officers were superstitious and they sought some connection with them. It appeared to work for there was a more optimistic and bantering atmosphere as the aeroplanes were checked before we took off.

  The down side of giving the major the easiest sector was that
we had the toughest. We had to fly to Warlencourt. It was an objective for the advance but it was thought unlikely that any British elements would have reached it. It was not far from Bapaume.

  We flew as high as we could once we had all taken off. I wanted to avoid being observed if we had to cross the German lines. Three stray RFC aeroplanes would be a very tempting target for a squadron of German fighters. We saw the advancing British soldiers as they moved through freshly dug trenches to reinforce the new front line and I watched as the Major and his flight peeled off to patrol the small hamlet of Bazentin le Petit.

  “Right Sergeant, let’s go down and keep your eyes peeled.” Warlencourt was just five miles from Bapaume and that was supposed to be the ultimate target for the advancing soldiers. Warlencourt was a tiny hamlet just across from a small stream. I dropped to five hundred feet when we reached the peaceful looking settlement. The peace was shattered by machine guns as the troops in the hamlet and the nearby woods opened fire on us. I banked around.

  “Lumpy, give them a burst with your Lewis.”

  “Waste of bullets sir. Let’s try this instead.” As we flew over the woods and the gunfire increased he dropped two grenades. “These have longer fuses, sir. The armourer sorted them out for me. Said as how he was afraid I would blow the arses of the other lads!”

  There were two large cracks from below and a pall of smoke began to rise. The gunfire stopped! “Well done. Let’s see if we can find the nearest British forces to here.”

  As we flew down the Albert to Bapuame road we were fired on as we flew over Le Sars, another small hamlet. So far we had only seen Germans. It was at Pozières that we saw the first signs of brown uniforms. There was a hedge and tree lined road and the Germans had blocked the road. We saw advancing soldiers wearing brown. They were moving both down the road and across the fields.

  “Any more Mills Bombs?”

  “Sorry sir.”

  “Right then we will have to give them a hand with the Lewis guns.” I waved my arm to signal the other two that we were attacking. I hoped my words had sunk in with them. I banked north east and then swung around to come on a north to south line. We would fly along the German defences and machine gun them. I took us as low as I dared and I fired along the line of grey. Hutton sprayed the soldiers to the right. I heard one crack as we zoomed at tree top height and then we had run out of ammunition and I began to climb to enable us to change magazines safely. As I banked to starboard I was relieved to see the other two safely with me but my joy was short lived as Hutton shouted, “Six Fokkers, to the east!”

  Had we had altitude I might have been tempted to scrap it out with them but they would have superior speed, numbers and fuel. It was time to run. I headed due west. There was little point in climbing; we would go slower and waste fuel.

  “Get on the rear Lewis, Lumpy.”

  As his cheery face loomed into view I felt happier. He could keep an eye on the two young pilots and the enemy. Of course he had to shout but I could almost lip read now. I kept watching the landmarks below me. I knew that if we could reach the British lines then they might be discouraged from following us but we had some way to go before we reached the secured front.

  “They are diving sir! Keep her steady if you can.”

  Our one advantage was that the German pilot could only fire in the direction of his aeroplane. Our three gunners could converge the fire of their machine guns and follow a moving target. I was not worried when I heard the chatter of Carrick’s Lewis; he was the rear Gunbus. The other two would be waiting until the first German came a little closer. The German had one bite of the cherry; we had three. The second Lewis opened up. I heard the double chatter and I saw Hutton cheer. “Got you, you bugger!” He held up one finger to confirm a kill. Then he began to fire. I could feel the sudden heat from the gun. He did it in controlled bursts. I could picture what he was doing. He would fire and the German would shift his aeroplane allowing Hutton to fire again. It conserved ammunition and ensured more hits. Then he held up a second finger. I glanced to the side and saw the British soldiers firing their rifles. We were over our lines. Suddenly, as Hutton stopped firing to change a magazine he held up three fingers. He shouted, “The foot sloggers got the last one!”

  I felt happy about that. It would do the morale of the poor infantry the world of good to see such a tangible trophy tumble to the ground. The landing was bumpier than I had expected and as we rolled to a halt the whole aeroplane lurched alarmingly to the right and the tip of the wing crumpled.

  I leapt out to see what the damage was. As soon as I saw the branches and leaves stuck in the remains of the wheel I knew what had happened. We had hit the trees when we had been machine gunning the Germans. We were the last flight to land and a crowd gathered around. I could hear Freddie and Johnny regaling them with the story of our attack.

  Ted came up to me shaking his head, “You want to watch out, you know some Germans still have the Pickelhaube. That would make a right mess of your undercarriage.”

  Everyone laughed at our expense. The chief mechanic, Senior Flight Sergeant Mackay shook his head. “You’ll no be flying tomorrow sir. That’ll take some repairing, all right.” We had such huge wings that damage to the ends required much repairing.

  It was a high price to pay for alleviating the suffering of those men who were attacking but it was worth it. While I was reporting to Captain Marshall and telling Randolph what we had seen the colonel joined us. “So you won’t be flying tomorrow then?”

  “No sir. A bit of bad luck that.”

  He nodded and said, “Perhaps not. I thought we could pop up to the front and see that Colonel of the Liverpool Battalion. Headquarters suggested it might be useful for us to see what it was like on the ground. The experience might inform our reconnaissance a little better.”

  “Good idea sir, could I bring Hutton?”

  “Of course. In fact he can drive eh? It will give us a chance to chat.”

  Chapter 5

  It felt strange to be watching the rest of the squadron take off the next day for a patrol to the front. Hutton was delighted to be driving the colonel’s motor car. Before we left Captain Marshall stopped us. “Apparently you need to take your gas masks and steel helmets.”

  The colonel looked perplexed, “But we don’t use them!”

  Randolph grinned, “I know. I got some from Quarter Master Doyle.” Sergeant Lowery put them in the front seat next to Lumpy.

  He winked at him, “You are in charge of these Flight Sergeant Hutton I do not want you coming back with two officers who are gassed or have head injuries. Right?”

  “Right, Flight. I’ll look after them.”

  I was not certain of the protocol and so I had my Sam Brown with my service revolver. Lumpy had his Lee Enfield and Mills Bombs. As we drove through an ever more depressing scene of destruction and wounded men in ambulances the colonel began to talk. Ramble would be a better word to describe it because he did not stay on one topic for long.

  “If it wasn’t for the war you know, Bill, I would be back in Surrey tending my garden and looking after my son.” He waved a hand around. “I am too old for all of this. I did my fighting in a different time. Travelled all over the world: India, Afghanistan, West Indies and Sudan. My wife and I travelled the world. Most of it was peace time work. Even when we fought, well, we thought the South African wars were bad but they were a picnic compared with this. This is not a proper war. This is a slaughter.” He sounded depressed.

  We had been stopped by a military policeman at a bottleneck to allow a field ambulance to pass us. The colonel pointed out of the window at a piece of barbed wire some fifty yards away. There we saw a hand hanging from the wire. “Shocking.”

  There was nothing for me to say and I sat back in the seat. Like the colonel it depressed me too.

  “I hear you have a young lady now? A nurse in London?”

  “Er yes sir, Beatrice.”

  “Are you keen on her?”

  �
�Well, er , yes sir.”

  “Then do something about it!” There was real passion in his voice.” You never know what is around the corner. Life is too damned short! I hate it when you young lads go out each day and I have no idea how many will be coming back. I get more grey hairs every day. You know that Green and his gunner are prisoners of war?”

  “No sir, I didn’t, but I suppose that is better than lying dead in some foreign field.”

  “Hmn, I suppose you are right. At least they will survive the war.”

  He was silent as he stared out of the window. It was sad to see an old warhorse like the colonel so depressed. His words had, however, made me wonder about my life. What would I do when… if, this war ever ended? Would I be like the colonel and keep the uniform? Would I drag Beatrice all over the world? I needed to think about life after the war.

  A huge military policeman came over. “This is as far as you go sir. Who are you looking for?”

  “The 17th Liverpool Battalion.”

  He pointed to the north. “They have just been brought off the line. You’ll find them in the reserve trenches up there.” He leaned in to Hutton and pointed, “Driver, put the car on that patch of land over there. We need to keep the road free for ambulances.” He nodded as one drove away from the front. “The Aussies are getting it today.”

  As Hutton parked the car he walked over with us. The colonel asked, “Where did you say, Sergeant?”

  He pointed, “Go down Buckingham Palace Road until you come to Lime Street and ask there.” He smiled, “And wear your tin lids too, sirs. The Huns like to lob the odd shell or two over. They are proper sneaky buggers.”

  We saw the crudely made sign which even had a crown drawn on it and we entered the trench. At this stage of the year it was relatively dry but later they would have duck boards down and the bottoms would become a muddy morass of slippery slime. It was wide enough for two lines of men to pass each other. We saw firing steps but there were no sentries. This had been the front line before the advance and was a measure of the gains that we had made. We met men coming the other way and I couldn’t help noticing how dirty they all looked. It made me more aware of our smart, clean uniforms. We received a cursory salute but the look was one of disdain. They thought we were staff. They didn’t know that we were warriors just like them.