I knew that I was running low both on fuel and ammunition and I climbed so that I could turn. My speed and my course took me half a mile from Bert’s tank. I decided I would fly back over him in case he would wave again. To my horror the tank was stopped and I could see, as I approached, that the tracks had come off. Some storm troopers were racing towards it with a flame thrower. I saw the officer climb out of the tank only to be shot by a storm trooper with a hand held machine gun. Then Bert appeared and he held the Lewis gun like a rifle and emptied the ninety six bullet magazine at the storm troopers. The flame thrower blew up and threw Bert and his crew to the ground. I later discovered that it must have been ammunition on the soldier rather than the flame thrower tanks which caused the explosion. I might have been running out of fuel and ammunition but I was not going to leave my kid brother in the lurch.
I flew over the damaged tank and banked to come back around. I saw that Bert and four of his crew were running towards me but behind them were another two groups of storm troopers. I flew directly at one group and destroyed them with one long burst. Then I was over them and I had to bank to come back around. I saw them in my mirror. I will never forget the sight of Bert, some three hundred yards from me aiming his pistol at the advancing soldiers and trying to keep them at bay so that his men could escape. I was so proud of my little brother. It made all my exploits seem pathetic by comparison. Then the flame thrower sent out a column of flame and my little brother was engulfed in fire. As his body collapsed to the ground I knew that he was dead. I used the last of my bullets to kill the remaining storm troopers. But it was too late for Bert. I was now the last of the Harskers.
I was perilously short of fuel and out of ammunition. I headed home, oblivious to the bullets whizzing around me. I was aware of nothing. My whole body was numb and I think I must have flown on some sort of auto-pilot. I still cannot remember landing. My flight all rushed up to me to praise me but I said not a word and headed for the office. I had to get a message so that someone was there when my mother received the telegram. I knew Bert was dead but the authorities would not send a telegram for a couple of days. It would kill her to receive a brown telegram alone.
It is strange, now, to think the way my mind worked. I just wanted to avoid the pain of the telegram. I remembered how badly she had reacted when the telegram came to say I was dead. I needed to get in touch with Alice, or Sarah or Lady Burscough! Someone had to be there.
Randolph was grinning when I went in. “We heard that we have made great advances and we have not lost a single aeroplane. This has been a wonderful day!”
“My brother, Bert, was in one of the tanks. I saw him killed.”
“Oh, my God! I am sorry, Bill I …”
I waved my hand to shut him up, “That’s fine you weren’t to know. I’m not upset. Listen, Randolph I have to get a telegram sent to the Burscough estate. How do I do it?” He gave me a puzzled look. “I want family there when mother gets the telegram telling her that Bert is dead!”
I saw understanding dawn. “Listen I have a chum at Headquarters. They have a telegraph office there. I am sure that he could send it.” He pushed the whisky bottle over and began to work the handle on the telephone. I was oblivious to what he was saying. I just stared at the amber liquid in the bottle. I heard voices outside. They were laughing. The door opened and Archie and the others stood there. They could see that something was the matter. I saw Randolph shake his head and wave to the seats. He continued talking. The four of them sat down and poured themselves a drink. I knew they were desperate to know what was amiss but I couldn’t tell them; not yet. I swallowed the peaty, fiery liquid in one and filled my glass again.
Randolph put his hand over the telephone. “We can do it. Which telegraph office should it be sent to?”
“Burscough, Lancashire.”
He repeated everything I said, “Right Bill. You dictate, slowly and I will tell Harry.”
“Bert killed today stop Telegram from the army not sent for two days stop Someone needs to prepare mother stop Death was instant stop Bill stop.”
Gordy came over and put his hand on my shoulder. The hardest thing I ever did was to stop myself from bursting into tears. “I am sorry Bill. We didn’t know…”
Archie nodded, “We were just well… you now.”
Randolph finished dictating and said. “They are sending it now.” He paused. “You are certain he is dead. I mean…”
I looked up and I knew that my eyes were dead for that was how I felt inside. “A flame thrower killed him. He’s dead but he saved his crew. He was a hero.” That was the point when I broke. That was the moment when I ceased to be a man and became a broken hearted child. I don’t remember how I got to my quarters. I just found myself on my bed looking up at the ceiling.
I glanced to the candle burning on the bedside table and I saw Bates there. “How long, John?”
“Mr Hewitt and Mr Thomas brought you here three hours ago.” He stood and felt my forehead. It was the sort of thing my mother might have done. “Are you hungry, sir?”
I shook my head, “I could do with a drink.”
“No you couldn’t, Major Harsker. That is the downward slope and we can’t let you go there. You have a good night’s sleep and tomorrow, well, tomorrow the sun will come up and your life will go on.”
“But not Bert’s.”
“No sir, not Bert. Another fine young man like Mr Sharp will not be going home and that is a tragedy but we will still go on because you and I know that Bert, like Charlie would have wanted it.” He took a letter out of his pocket and held it before me. “Your mother sent me this last week. She said that she got a letter from Bert. She knew that you had instigated it because Bert would do anything for you. He was your brother and he loved you. You have your whole life to live, sir. I think that your decision to get married on your next leave was almost prophetic. You and Miss Porter will have children and Bert and Charlie will live again in them. You will be good parents. You will always remember the sacrifice that soldiers like Bert and Charlie made. That is why you need to go on sir.” He sighed, “Because if you don’t, then their deaths will have been in vain.”
He put the letter away and stood. He suddenly looked very old. “When I came here, sir, I felt as depressed and as down as you are now but you and the boys in this squadron have given me hope. Take some back, sir. Get up in the morning. Climb into your Camel and live for Bert.”
I didn’t see him leave for my eyes were closed and I was crying. I heard the door close. I lay in the candlelit room and I thought about his words. I thought about his words. The best memorial I could make for Bert was to help win this war and then win the peace. Bates was right, some spirit had guided my thoughts and made me decide to marry Beattie. I would live for my dead comrades and when the war was over then I would remember them. Until then I would hide them in a recess in my mind.
Chapter 13
It was strange as I walked into the mess. Everyone looked at me as though I had two heads. The mess sergeants spoke in hushed tones. Archie and Gordy came to sit on either side of me.
“Listen, Bill, if you aren’t up to flying today we will understand. I will lead your flight for you.”
“Thanks Archie. I can fly and I am sorry for being such a baby yesterday. Soldiers die every day. Bert was a soldier and damned good one.”
Gordy put his arm around my shoulders, “You saw your brother die, for God’s sake. It would upset anyone.”
“You are right Gordy and last night I was upset. Today I am ready to get aloft and help to win this war. Bert’s mates are still out there in their tanks. I can’t protect Bert any more but I can help his pals.” I forced a smile. “I will not let you down. Any of you. That I swear.”
Archie shook his head and murmured, “That was the last thought on our mind. If you are sure, mind?”
“I am.” I forced a smile, “What is it today? More of the same?”
“Aye consolidate our gains. Apparently we made
more territorial gains yesterday than in any other battle. They rang church bells in England. It is seen as a great victory.”
“But it isn’t, at least, not yet.”
“Then let’s get in the air and see if we can win it now!”
I smiled as I went to my bus. I was getting fed up of the sympathetic looks. Sympathy didn’t get you anywhere. It certainly wouldn’t bring Bert back.
I saw my flight. “Right lads. Let’s get up in the air and watch out for fighters. I can’t imagine Fritz letting us have the freedom of the skies today. Watch for the Hun in the sun.”
None of them knew Bert and none of them knew me well enough to offer condolences but I could see, in their faces, that they were itching to say something.
I was glad when we were in the air and heading, in the darkness, towards the rising son and Cambrai. I saw the flashes from the guns as the barrage crept ever further forward.
By the time we reached the front, dawn had broken and I saw the damaged tanks from the previous day. I also saw the remnants, there appeared to be less than two hundred of them, as they chugged east to take on the Germans again. They were slowly eating up the ground. It was ponderous but they were still making good progress. We began the day with luck and geography on our side. The western skies behind us were still dark but we could see the German fighters approaching from the east.
“German fighters. Engaging. Over.”
I waved to Freddie and pointed. He had seen them too. We both climbed and led our men, this time in line astern, towards the Germans. For the first time in a long time I didn’t care who we met. If it was the Red Baron then he had better watch out because that day I would kill as many Germans as I possibly could. It might not bring Bert back but it might bring the end of the war closer.
As we climbed I felt the cold. November was almost over. Normally we would have ceased operations. It showed the planning of the high command. The ground was not muddy but was frozen in places. The tanks had made more progress because of it. I did not think the Germans had seen us and I took us as high as I dared. They would be looking for our spotters who would be at a lower altitude. Today we would surprise them. We had breached their vaunted Hindenburg line and now we would destroy their Jastas.
We were five hundred feet above them and some thousand yards from them when I led my flight down. I waited until I was less than a hundred feet from the leading aeroplane before I fired. I jerked the nose up as I fired and hit the pilot. The bullets stitched a line across the top wing and then made his head disappear. I kept lifting the nose and fired at the second aeroplane. He was just forty feet behind the leading aeroplane and my bullets hit his propeller, his nose and his top wing. He peeled away. I suspect I had not only damaged his bus but wounded him too.
I banked to port and saw a line of Fokkers. They were in disarray and I flew imperiously along the line hitting every German I saw. No more fell to my guns but, with five Camels behind me each firing his twin Vickers, it became a slaughter. Our manoeuvrability and small size had once more given us an advantage.
As the survivors fled I led my flight to machine gun the troops on the ground. By flying obliquely across the front we minimised the chances of hitting our own tanks or troops. I husbanded my ammunition. The bursts were one or two seconds in length. The Americans I would later meet called it a turkey shoot and it was an appropriate term. We could not and did not miss. When I clicked on empty I turned to port and led my flight back to the west. We had done all that we could and could do no more. It was time to go home.
We had not escaped unscathed. Lieutenant Hickey’s bus had holes in the wings, the fuselage and his cockpit. Miraculously all had missed him. Our dour Welshman had not been so lucky. I do not know how he managed to get his bus down. He had been shot in the right arm and right leg. By another miracle they had missed all the vital arteries but he would not fly again for some time. The Bristols had fared worse. Ground fire had brought down two. No one could remember seeing their buses go down and we were left in the dark.
In Randolph’s office everyone assiduously avoided mentioning tanks but we could not skirt around the offensive. “Well it looks like we have stalled a little.” Randolph had a map on the wall. “We are within two miles of Cambrai but the bridge we were counting on using proved weaker than we thought and the tank which tried to cross it destroyed it in the process. The General is digging in.”
“But that is still a bigger gain than we have made before.”
“You are right, Freddie, but we believe that the Germans are already transferring soldiers from the Eastern front. They will take some time to get here but it means they can move soldiers from quiet sectors and reinforce their line around Cambrai. The French are going to attack around Verdun.” He sat down. “And we have been ordered to attack their roads beyond Cambrai.”
I noticed Archie watching us. The two of them were a good team. Archie let Randolph explain things and it gave the colonel the chance to look at our faces and gauge our reactions. I had learned, long ago to keep my face neutral. Poor Gordy always spoke from the heart.
“But that means we will be on the edge of our endurance! And I assume you want the Bristols to bomb which means we have to go in low. We will be easy meat for any German fighters.”
Freddie ventured, “We could keep the Camels as an umbrella. When we have used that tactic before then we haven’t lost any buses.”
Freddie was right it had been effective. Gordy stubbed out his cigarette angrily. “You are right, Freddie, but it doesn’t help us with the ground fire. They are getting more accurate. We are the victims of our own success. It was inevitable. If we keep flying low they get constant practice at shooting at us. We’ll do it but we won’t be bringing a full complement of buses back.”
Archie nodded, “You may be right. How about this as a compromise? I’ll join Freddie and we will ground attack their gunners. Bill here can be the umbrella.”
“Freddie and his flight have the more experienced pilots. My young lads have been lucky up to now but if we meet a decent squadron then it could be a slaughter.”
They all looked at each other. I could almost see Archie weighing up my state of mind. “The difference is you, Bill. If you lead the Camels against anyone, Richthofen included, then it gives the rest of the pilots more confidence. We all know that confidence can make the difference. Of course if you don’t want to be the umbrella we will all understand.”
I shook my head and tapped out my pipe. “No, sir, I didn’t mean that. We will be your umbrella and we will watch your backs.”
The relief on their faces surprised me. “Good.” As we rose to leave he added, “Oh and you got your bar for your MC. Well done, Bill.”
The awarding of the bar seemed to mean more to the rest of the squadron than it did to me but I saw a lively side to them that night. The sombre, deflated mood of the previous day was replaced by high jinks. I just watched and listened. Bert was still at the forefront of my mind but I knew that I dare not show that I was upset. I wouldn’t have been able to stand the commiserations and sympathy. Instead I looked at the young men I led. They were not much younger than I was but they came from disparate backgrounds. In a world without war I would have spent my life knuckling my forehead to them and calling them sir. In this topsy-turvy world in which we lived they called me sir and looked up to me. It was bizarre.
Archie sidled up to me and slipped a glass of whisky in my hand. “Here laddie, it is from my special bottle; a quarter cask Laphroigh.”
I could smell its peaty fumes as he handed it to me. “Thank you, sir.”
He shook his head, “Its Archie, laddie. We both know that I am the commander of the squadron because I am colonel but the leader is you. You had us all worried yesterday.” I opened my mouth to speak but he held his hand up. “No laddie, let me speak. I am not going to give you sympathy, we all know you hate that. You are important to this squadron because you are an ace. You have one of the highest totals on the western fron
t and we both know how rare it is for you to be still alive. Randolph’s chum told us that young pilots request a posting here just to fly with you.”
“You must be joking!”
He laughed, “Have you never noticed that we get replacements really quickly? That is not just the General being kind. So your moods and your opinions are important.”
“I hope you don’t think that I will be moping around sir? I will do my duty.”
“I know but you have to be true to yourself too. Don’t hide behind this mask all the time. When this offensive is over you will be going home to get married. When you are with your young lady then be yourself. Put away the mask and the armour.” He downed his whisky. “Because if you don’t, you will crack and I dinna want that when you are twenty thousand feet in the air leading these young laddies.” He gave me a sad stare. “You hear what I am saying Bill?”
I nodded, “I think I do sir. And I won’t let anyone down. Least of all myself.”
Chapter 14
I had only four aeroplanes with me as I climbed high above the rest of the squadron. The two Bristol pilots had both been captured. At least Lieutenants Fox and Aston along with their gunners would survive the war. It meant we were a small squadron which headed east. We saw the new front line as we neared Cambrai. We had come tantalisingly close to ending the war. Had we made Cambrai then the Hindenburg line would have been irrevocably breached and the end of the war would be that much closer.
The ground fire was bad and I could see holes appearing in the huge wings of the Bristols. Had they been Gunbuses then I fear that those slow moving leviathans would have all been shot down. I peered ahead as I led my four young pilots. We had to spot the Germans before they spotted us.
I saw eight crosses appear as Ted and Gordy began to drop their bombs on the road junction. My heart began to sink as I realised that they were four triplanes and four biplanes. Then a sudden flash of sunlight from behind a cloud showed me that they were not gaudily painted. This was not the Circus! My elation was short lived. It might not be the Red Baron but they were the only bus which could worry us and we were outnumbered. I remembered Archie’s words. We needed to stop them hurting our ground attack. I waggled my wings to tell my flight we were going into action and then I said, “Engaging four triplanes and four biplanes. Over!” If anything bad happened then Randolph would know the reason.
1918 We will remember them Page 13