by Griff Hosker
“Really, Quarter Master? How?”
He tapped his nose, “Let’s just say I have been getting to know the locals and I think I know where to lay my hands on some nice furniture.”
Randolph smiled, “I shall ask no questions Mr Doyle and then any legal ramifications will be your preserve.”
Interestingly enough Ted, Gordy and I found ourselves the subject of a barrage of questions. The main focus appeared to be how we had acquired our skills as pilots without having either gone to University or flying school. We answered them as best we could. Jamie seemed almost disappointed by the answers. I think he thought that there was a blue blooded skeleton in our closets. He seemed convinced that my family came from a liaison between some noble and an obliging servant. He had a vivid imagination. I found out that he came from a long line of noblemen. Noblesse Oblige coursed through his veins. He was desperate for the old days of knights on chargers. He told me that he would have joined the cavalry but he had heard that they no longer charged into battle. When I told him of my experiences it confirmed his decision.
“This is better. We are knights of the skies. That is why I wish that I was in your flight. You are the cavalry and you shall do noble deeds. I will have to find a way to find my own Holy Grail!”
I thought Ted was going to choke on his beer.
“I don’t know about noble deeds, Jamie, but we can make a difference to the troops on the ground.”
When I returned to my room I found my night attire laid out ready for me and a glass of whisky next to the bed. Bates was a very thoughtful man and a most efficient servant. I had not been anywhere near as good when I had served Lord Burscough.
Archie had decided that, as we had been so successful the previous day, we would use the same model. I was not sure. The Germans might be expecting us. I gathered my pilots around me. “We need to be flexible today. I have a feeling that the Hun will try something different. If our normal method is going awry then Hutton will fire a Very Flare. As soon as he does then I want Carrick to fly next to me. Make it two aeroplanes width and Fryer will be his wingman.”
They nodded but Freddie asked, “Do you mind me asking why sir?”
“The last four patrols we have undertaken we have flown in line astern and gone directly for the leader. Then we have either flown across their rear or their front. If I was their squadron leader then I would be laying a trap. I would try to draw the leading aeroplane in and then attack the rear. My plan is just a way out of that trap. By leaving the gap for two aeroplanes between us we might get at least one in crossfire from the two gunners and we could plough the field ahead.” They seemed relieved and all nodded. “Of course this puts a great deal on your new gunners.” I looked at my new men. “Are they and you up to it?”
Giggs set his jaw resolutely, “We are sir!”
“Good man!”
As we headed for our sector I saw the brown lines wavering forward. To the north and the south I saw the other flights on the squadron looking like so many dragonflies. I checked my altitude. We were flying at four thousand feet. “I think we shall climb a little more, Sergeant.”
“Righto sir but it does use a lot of juice up.”
“We can always leave early. I want to be above any trouble.”
There was silence for a while and then Hutton said. “We ought to carry a couple of bombs, you know sir. It wouldn’t add too much to the fuel consumption and we could do more damage to ground troops than with the just the Lewis Guns.”
“You are right. We will try that tomorrow.”
“Sir, look in the east.”
I saw five Fokker biplanes. They were flying in a V formation and heading for us. They were slightly below us. If I had not taken us up we would have been flying at their altitude. Something did not smell right. “I’m going up a little more Hutton.”
“But sir, there are just five of them. We took on eight yesterday; this is probably all that they have left.”
That decided me, “No, Lumpy, if they only had five left they would not have sent them out. This is a trap.”
I was about to swing the flight around and abort the mission when Sergeant Hutton said, “Sir! Above us! Another ten Fokkers!”
They had the advantage of height and there was no point in fleeing. Their superior speed would enable them to catch us. We had to break them up and then try to get home. “Hutton, fire the Very Pistol.”
“Sir!”
As the rocket soared aloft I could see that they had worked out our Modus Operandi. If we had attacked the five Fokkers then the others would have swooped down on our unprotected rears. We would have been picked off one by one. I eased back on the throttle to allow Freddie to join me. I pointed to the twelve Fokkers and he nodded. These were flying in four Vs of three aeroplanes each. The nearest flight to me was Gordy’s to the north. I pointed to the second V and Freddie nodded. We would try to isolate the end six aeroplanes. The five which had been bait had a long way to climb to reach us. I was also acutely aware that we were nearing our ceiling height. At least that would give us an extra five miles an hour.
“Hutton, I want you and Laithwaite to take out the aeroplanes between us. Lieutenant Carrick and I will fire at the Fokkers either side of the leader.”
“Right sir. By the way do you see he has a red propeller!”
“You are right. If we get back we will tell the adjutant about that. Here we go!”
It must have looked, to the Germans, as though we were walking into their trap. The six aeroplanes on the left of their formation would be able to sweep around and harry the end of our line. They would not know that we intended to blow a hole in the middle of their squadron.
The leader was a cool customer and he held his fire as long as we did. When he did fire he aimed at me which meant he aimed his aeroplane at me and that, in turn, swung the whole of the line. It was his first mistake. I turned my bus slightly and the bullets thudded into the fuselage just behind me. I opened fire at the second aeroplane and caught him moving so that he could not fire at me. I hit his engine with one burst and then fired a shorter five bullet burst. I saw his head disappear in a red mist and his aeroplane continued its turn. I had time to watch the next aeroplane have to swing out of line to evade a crash.
Meanwhile Hutton and Laithwaite had concentrated their fire on the leader. One of the rounds must have struck the fuel tank for it exploded in the air. Freddie had damaged his enemy and, as he glanced at me I waved north. He nodded and we both began to swing our aeroplanes towards the three, now isolated Fokkers. As they came around Fryer and his gunner both struck one aeroplane. Hutton and Laithwaite struck the second and, as the third tried to head east Dunston and Giggs hit him. Suddenly there was clear air before us. Two Fokkers were heading east while a third fell to its death.
I dipped my nose, desperately trying to use the altitude and extra speed to put air between us and the Germans. “Rear Lewis, Hutton.”
He had a fearful expression for manning the rear Lewis when diving gave you the feeling that you were about to fall backwards out of the aeroplane. When he was secure he shouted, “They have reorganised. There are nine of them and they are diving.” I looked at the altimeter. We were now down to five thousand feet but, more importantly, we could see Gordy ahead. It looked like they were strafing ground troops. I pulled my Very Pistol out and fired a flare. I hoped he would see it and know that we were in trouble.
“They are gaining, sir. Mr Dunston is taking hits. They are too far away for me to hit.” Suddenly he shouted, “Reload the Very sir and hand it to me!” I did as asked, my curiosity piqued. He seemed to aim it, firing at a very shallow angle. He watched, his tongue peeping between his lips. Then he shouted, “Yee Haw!”
I would have to wait until we landed to find out the reason for the shout. Perhaps it was the second flare which Gordy saw for his five aeroplanes began to ascend in a ragged line. I saw Freddie look over and I signalled for a turn to port. We would sweep around and climb with Gordy. The
Fokkers would have to face ten Gunbuses and twenty Lewis guns.
Hutton shouted, “Mr Dunston is hit. He is heading north.”
Those were my standing orders. If you were damaged then you headed for home. Our turn helped him as we swept around and Giggs and his gunner hit the pursuing Fokker who thought he had an easy kill. He proved to be the easier kill. The Germans were not expecting reinforcements and a wall of bullets made them decide that they had done enough for their dead leader and they turned. One pilot, with a red jagged line running the length of the fuselage bravely tried to take on Gordy but D flight converged on him and his brightly painted Fokker was riddled with bullets. Amazingly it did not fall from the air. He was a good pilot and he dived below us and out of the range of our guns.
It was time for us to head home too. We followed the smoking Gunbus of Lieutenant Dunston and I thanked whatever premonition had warned me of danger. It had saved all of us.
“While you are there Lumpy, check the damage to the other buses.”
“Righto sir.” I saw him scanning both sides. “They are all pretty badly shot up, sir. We’ll be lucky to take a full flight up tomorrow. How are we?”
The controls felt a little sluggish and the yoke was not as responsive as it normally was. We too had been damaged. I prayed that the undercarriage had not been hit. That often killed crews which had survived fierce fire fights. The problem with dogfights such as the one we had just experienced was that they happened so quickly and you were so busy firing that you shut out the hits to your own craft. The windsock in the distance made me feel a little better. Dunston fired his Very pistol and I saw the ambulances race to the field. He landed, safely enough, and I saw him jump down and run around to the front cockpit. The injury was to his gunner.
I let the others land first. They managed it successfully except for Giggs. His undercarriage had been damaged and as it collapsed he caught the tip of his wing and the whole bus slewed to the side. Both of the crew climbed out safely.
When we rolled to a halt I leaned forward and kissed the instrument panel, “Well done Caesar! Well done!”
I climbed out and Lumpy Hutton patted the horse insignia. Although there were many holes in the cockpit, the horse had not suffered at all. “This is a lucky horse sir.”
“What did you hit with the flare?”
“Nothing sir but it exploded just in front of the leading aeroplane and he swerved away. It took him five minutes to get back in a firing position.”
I shook my head in admiration, “My God, man, you have a fearful imagination!”
Chapter 10
I took my pipe from my pocket. I could feel myself slowing down. It was always the same after action. I had found that filling and smoking my pipe brought me back to earth easily. Gordy and Ted walked towards me as I left Sergeant Hutton to complete his examination of the aeroplane. “It looks like you ran into trouble.”
I began to fill my pipe, “We did, Ted.” I told him of the ambush. By the time the pipe was going we had reached the headquarters. “The trouble is I think they have a higher ceiling than we do. We were pretty much at our limit when we engaged them. It means that they can always have the height advantage and, with the speed advantage, that puts us on the defensive.”
Captain Marshall and Major Leach were in the office and heard the end of our conversation. “Your buses look pretty badly shot up, Bill.”
I nodded, “And I think we took some casualties. Dunston’s gunner was hit. The boys did well and it could have been much worse.”
“It is not going so well on the ground either. It looks like the advance is going slower.”
Ted asked, “Slower?”
“In the first week the offensive gained some miles. In the second week it has been in yards. We have made a bump in the front line.”
“Is the offensive over then?” A large part of me wanted it to be. I was not afraid to face the Germans but it seemed such a waste of brave infantry to bleed so much and to gain so little.
“No, the generals will continue to push and hope that the enemy breaks first.”
“The good news is that the Engineers will be over tomorrow to build a couple of new buildings and to make some emplacements for guns. We are getting some anti-aircraft guns. It seems the Germans have been bombing airfields in other sectors. Wing wants us be prepared.”
Bates must have been watching for me. As I entered the building he tut-tutted me. “Captain Harsker, I have seen that aeroplane of yours! I have seen moth eaten suits with fewer holes in it. You need to take more care of yourself, sir.”
I chuckled. Bates had no concept of aerial warfare. Perhaps I ought to take him up for a spin. Then I looked at the neat little man. He would go but it would break him. “I am afraid, Bates, that the Germans were out to get us today. They had twice as many aeroplanes as we did. We were lucky to get out unscathed.”
He looked incredulous, “You call that unscathed sir? Dear me. Well let’s get you in the bath and cleaned up. You will feel much better.”
He was like my mother when I had been a young boy. But he was right. When I re-entered the bathroom in my robe he was waiting for me with a drink. “Here you are sir.” As I sipped it he looked at me critically. “Sir, do you mind an impertinence?”
“That depends how impertinent Bates. Go on.”
“Your moustache, sir, it just seems to grow.”
“That’s what hair does Bates.”
“Yes sir, I know,” he added patiently, “but with a little judicious trimming it could have more style.”
I stood and looked in the mirror. He was right. It looked like a ragged hairy caterpillar crawling across my top lip. I had grown it to emulate Lord Burscough but it looked nothing like his. I contemplated shaving it off. “Perhaps I will remove it.”
“No sir, just sit down and let me go to work.” He beavered away with the scissors for ten minutes or so and then said, “There you are, sir, look at it now.”
I looked in the mirror and it was neat and looked like Lord Burscough’s. “Excellent Bates.”
He looked crestfallen, “Sir, it is not finished!” He took a small bottle with an aromatic liquid in it and put a tiny amount on his fingers. He began to work it into the moustache and then spread his arms at the mirror.
I looked and saw that it now had style. “That is a good job Bates but how will I get it to look as good as this on my own?”
“You do not need to, sir. You have, Bates!”
He spun, almost like a ballet dancer and left triumphantly. It was at that moment that I saw that I was part of his rehabilitation. He could not have done this for his gentlemen in the trenches but he could here and each time I returned he would have more confidence that I would survive. He was like one of my young pilots. I needed to nurture and care for him too. I had thought it was the other way around.
When I was dressed and feeling human again I went to find Senior Flight Sergeant McKay. “Well, Flight, what is the damage?”
“I reckon we can have you and Mr Giggs in the air tomorrow and that will be it. Sorry sir.”
“Not your fault. Get your lads to rig the bomb racks to the two aeroplanes.”
He frowned, “I didna see that on the schedule for tomorrow.”
“You didn’t I will go and see Major Leach now.”
Archie was in his office, apparently drowning in paperwork. “I can see why the Colonel never flew! This stuff seems to have a mind of its own and just grow and grow.”
I laughed and began to fill my pipe. “How is he by the way?”
“Much improved. He is back in Blighty now in a civilian hospital specialising in heart cases. Headquarters confirmed he won’t be back. If he doesn’t want to retire they will give him a desk job.”
“Good. Listen, Major I want to try something tomorrow.”
He leaned back and put his arms behind his head. “Go ahead, any distraction is welcome!”
“I only have two aeroplanes fit to fly tomorrow.”
&n
bsp; “We have nothing major on. The offensive is going nowhere and the brass is planning what to do next. You could just stand your flight down. They have had a tough time of late. I know that the others are going to stand down. Their buses need some maintenance.”
“I know but Giggs and I both have new buses and Hutton came up with an idea. He suggested taking four bombs up with us when we fly. If we don’t meet aeroplanes we can do more damage with bombs than guns alone. I was going to take Giggs up today. He hasn’t used bombs yet and I will be able to gauge how viable a proposition it is.”
He leaned forward and picked up his pen again, “You are second in command laddie, if you think it is a good idea then just do it.”
“Thank you sir.”
After dinner I took young Giggs to one side. “Tomorrow, Rupert, there will be just you and me flying.”
His face broke into a grin, “Good show sir!”
“Get excited after I tell you what we are about. You are having bombs fitted to your bus. If we don’t see the Hun we will find some Germans to bomb and strafe. Hutton is telling your gunner all that he needs to know about bombing.”
He looked disappointed, “Bombing sir?”
“It is a valuable mission, Rupert. We are not here to garner glory by shooting down Hun planes. We are here to support our infantry and win the war! Never forget that.”
“Sorry sir, right sir. I will go and have a word with Reg now.”
Word soon got out and I was inundated with young pilots keen to join me. The exception was Lieutenant Carstairs. I could see from his expression, when Rupert told him what we were going to do, that he thought it beneath a noble knight. Bombing was like being a delivery man and not a knight.
As I was eating a light breakfast the next day I heard guns to the west. It sounded like there was an attack going on after all. The front was still quite fluid in places and battalions tried to eliminate those strong points which might be used to launch sneak attacks or use as artillery observation points. Perhaps a colonel had elected to take matters into his own hands.