Chapter 22
We heard, during the night, the lorries taking reinforcements to Amiens. We knew that more were arriving by train as the Generals tried to shore up the line. When we had flown back across the battlefield we had seen the wrecked tanks and artillery pieces. We had lost a great deal of supplies as well as men. Amazingly our old field was still intact. The machine gun company still defended it although their guns were now traversed to the east and not the skies. It seemed unlikely to us that we would ever return there.
Freddie and his flight flew with me when we took off the next morning. Archie led the other two flights. We had decided that Freddie and I would take on the triplanes while the rest destroyed the two seaters. We had had no plan the previous day and our pilots had paid the price. Freddie and his depleted flight were tucked in behind Lieutenant Dundas who had to replace Jack Fall. As we headed towards Amiens I took heart from the fact that there appeared to be more order. The streams of soldiers heading west had now halted and I saw columns of Australians and Americans heading east to plug the gaps.
I climbed to just below the cloud cover. This time I knew that Archie and his ten Camels would be strafing the enemy infantry or attacking their two seaters. We would not have to climb to find the enemy. The artillery was silent. Perhaps the Germans were afraid of hitting their own rapidly advancing storm troopers or perhaps they had expended too many shells already. Randolph said that someone at HQ had calculated that more than a million shells had been dropped in the five hour bombardment. I could understand it.
We had reached the front quicker than the Germans and the thirty odd two seaters were snaking their way west at a low altitude. I peered above them and saw the fourteen triplanes. They were higher than the two seaters but lower than us. They were flying in three lines. The first two each had five Fokkers and the last had four. I waggled my wings and we dived.
It was an incredible feeling to be diving at over one hundred and twenty miles an hour. The air speed indicator was useless at high speeds but I could feel the power of my Camel as the wind rushed past my face. This was when a pilot needed lighting reactions.
We had been seen and the Germans began to climb. The Fokker Dr I could out climb anything in the air but we had the edge in terms of position. Stacked as we were and approaching at a combine speed of over two hundred miles an hour Wally and I would only have seconds in which to fire. I waited until we were eighty yards apart and pulled my triggers. Wally followed a second later. The German bullets struck the underside of my engine and the four Vickers tore through the propeller and the engine of the triplane which peeled away to twist and turn towards the earth. I saw oil dripping from my engine. He had damaged me.
The second Fokker approached and, this time, I fired first. It must have been the worry over my engine. Between us Wally and I managed to hit his engine and his guns. There was no fire in return. I banked to starboard after I had fired, my engine felt rough already. It meant we approached the last four obliquely from the side and we had a free shot at the Fokkers. With a stack of eight Camels descending through them the last four Fokkers stood no chance. I could not stay in the air much longer and I signalled to Wally that I was heading home. The oil was now pouring from the engine and I needed to get down before it seized.
I saw our old field before me and I headed for it. Our new field was too far away. I could not last much longer in the air. The machine gun company had actually repaired a couple of the bomb craters and I managed to bring the smoking Camel down. They raced over. I struggled to clamber out of the bus. My leg was giving me shooting pains.
“Are you all right, sir?” Despite the engine propeller not turning there was still smoke as the oil dripped over the hot engine.
“Yes sergeant; just my gammy knee. Any chance of a brew while I fix this?”
“Yes sir.” He gave me a worried look, “Sir, you can fix this?”
I laughed, “I began life as a sergeant gunner. I can give it my best shot.”
The workshops were a mess but not everything had been taken. I found some hose and some oil. I had some spanners in my Camel. By the time I was back at the Camel the sergeant had my tea ready. “There you are, sir.”
“Thanks Sarn’t.” The hot sweet tea was so strong you could have stood a spoon in it but it was welcome. “How are things going?”
“It’s been quiet since you left sir. They came over the day after you left but when they saw it was deserted and we discouraged them a bit they left us alone.”
I nodded. There was less damage than I might have expected. Half of the buildings were intact and it was just the pot holed airfield and craters which were the problem.
I took off the engine cover and saw that the German’s bullets had severed an oil hose in two places. I removed the clip and replaced the hose. I took off the filler cap and, using a funnel, refilled the sump. The engine was too hot to take off and I went to the workshop and found a half full can of fuel. I returned and topped up the Camel’s tank. I heard the roar of engines and looked up. Gordy and his flight were flying above. I waved to show that I was safe. Had I still had the radio I could have told Randolph but the receiver was still in the burnt out wreck of my old Camel close to Cambrai.
I handed the cup back to the Sergeant. “Are we winning sir?”
“Not yet but we have stopped losing.” He laughed. I waved my arm across the field. “Keep your eye on it for us. We’ll be back!”
I started the engine, with a little help from a private and then gingerly took the Camel to the end of the field. The test of my repair would be when I lifted the nose at the end of the field. Thankfully I had done a good job and I waggled my wings to show the machine gun company that all was well. I was happy to see the temporary airfield. I would let Flight Sergeant Lowery make a proper repair.
There was a happier air that night. We had not lost any Camels and Archie and his flights had decimated the bombers. Randolph spoke with Headquarters and announced that we had not lost any more territory that day. As we toasted our success I said, “We could go back to our old field you know.”
Archie shook his head, “Too risky.”
“I don’t think so. When I spoke with the sergeant he said that Fritz had not bothered with it since the day before the offensive started. Conditions are better there and the field would not take much to repair it. We would have longer in the air and it is still behind our lines. The Germans are a good five miles away.”
“Yes but if they push…”
“Then we get back here.” I saw that Gordy and the others agreed with me but Archie was not convinced.
Randolph, like us wanted to be home, “I’ll tell you what, sir. How about I ring Headquarters and see what they say?”
We left Randolph and went to eat. The cooks were doing their best but the field kitchen we had meant that it was largely bully beef and mash that we were eating. We were used to better.
Randolph arrived and frowned at the sludgy mess that was his dinner, “Headquarters says that if we can repair the field we can go back.” He nodded to me. “You must have a crystal ball, Bill, Headquarters says that the German advance has been halted. The Yanks and the Aussies have made a difference.”
“Good,” said Ted, “because I am fed up of being a happy camper!”
Gordy laughed, “You have never been a happy camper.”
The next day as we went to discourage the German fighters we saw a line of lorries as our mechanics and riggers returned to our old field to repair it. They were as keen to return as anyone. They hated the idea of running.
That morning we met the same squadron we had been fighting for the last few days. This time they had no reconnaissance aeroplanes and when they were faced by eighteen Camels they turned tail and headed home. We outnumbered them and we had the upper hand. War in the air was often won or lost in the mind. As we flew back we saw that the old airfield was already in better shape. Our men had filled in most of the shell holes and bomb craters.
T
hey arrived back, weary but happy in time for the evening meal. Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery looked dirty and dishevelled but he had a smile on his face. “Major Harsker was right sir. It didn’t take much to repair it. We could go back tomorrow if you wanted.”
Archie looked at us and nodded, “Well done, Flight. You and the others can leave tomorrow morning after we have taken off. We will return to our old field.”
We had been lulled by the flight of the Fokkers the previous day. When we reached the front line we saw, high in the sky, freshly painted Fokkers. There looked to be two squadrons of them and we were well outnumbered. Archie signalled for us to climb and assume a defensive position. It was a sensible move for it drew the triplane to us and the Germans would have to leave quicker than we would.
We spiralled to a higher altitude as the Fokkers made their purposeful way towards us. They came in lines of five abreast. It meant we had two lines of five and then three more lines of five. We would have a gauntlet of steel to face. We just had three columns of Camels. I led eight while Archie and the others were in two columns of five. As we reached the right height I positioned my flight in the centre of the line. We headed to meet the Fokkers.
I checked in my mirror and Wally was in place. As we approached the triplanes I felt anxious. I still do not know why but something did not feel right. I held my fire. Suddenly at a distance of less than a hundred yards the two Fokkers before me peeled to port and starboard and I had no target. The next five Fokkers came directly for me. I felt the bullets from the first two Fokkers as they raked both sides of my fuselage. How they failed to hit me I will never know. Perhaps I was moving too quickly and they had not turned enough however they managed to hit Wally and I saw him falling from the sky. And then I was hit by the bullets from the second wave of triplanes. I fired my own Vickers but I had no supporting fire from behind me. Lieutenant Dundas and Lieutenant Field were fending off the attack of the first two Fokkers. More bullets struck my engine and my propeller. The pitch of the propeller changed. It had been damaged.
I had had enough of this. I banked sharply to starboard. I needed to get down but first I had to clear a path. My sudden move took the German ahead by surprise and his bullets sailed above me. I saw a triplane less than fifty feet ahead of me and he was broadside on. I gave him a long burst. I hit his fuselage and then his cockpit. I saw his body shaking as though he had St Vitus’ dance and then his bus fell to earth. There was clear air before me. My Camel was struggling. I did not want to lose my propeller and I descended as quickly as I could. I found myself amongst the triplanes. I fired whenever I saw one and I felt the bullets as they hit my wings and my fuselage. I was taking too much punishment.
I saw our old field ahead. The machine gun company were lining their guns up. I wondered why until I looked in the mirror. Two Fokkers were diving towards me. This would not be a graceful landing. I just needed to get down. I hit the ground hard but I heard the Vickers as they sent a wall of death towards the Fokkers. One was hit immediately and plunged to earth, making another crater. The second rose and I thought the pilot had escaped but, when it continued its loop I knew that the pilot was dead. It exploded in the next field. As I clambered from my Camel I saw the lorries with the ground crews beginning to arrive. When the propeller juddered to a stop I saw that it had lost the tip on one side and there were holes in the blade. I had been lucky.
I turned to watch the fight in the air. The Camels and the Fokkers were twisting and turning. It looked like we might lose when the Fokkers headed east and home. Their Achilles heel was their endurance and it had saved us once again. As the Camels landed I saw much damage to our precious aeroplanes. I also saw that Phil Lowe had not made it either. With Wally gone we had lost two pilots and there were at least five badly damaged buses.
Just then I saw Wally as he sauntered into the field. He waved cheerily. “I thought you were a goner there old son.”
“So did I but the wrecked Camel is just two fields away. It is a write off I am afraid.”
“But you are alive! The bus we can replace!”
Archie walked over to me. “You have had a hard two days Bill. Your last little manoeuvre saved your lads. You upset Fritz.”
“I told you, they learn all time. We made the mistake of repeating ourselves and you can’t do that.”
As we headed towards the office he nodded, “Well at least we are home.”
As we neared the office I stopped Archie and pointed. There was a freshly painted sign. It said. ‘Doyle Airfield.’ Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery was nearby and he shrugged. “He was responsible for most of the camp anyway. He scrounged what the engineers couldn’t build. The lads thought it was a nice way to remember him.”
He was right. We had yet to mourn our dead comrades. Things had been too hectic but this would be a good memorial and a sobering reminder of how close were the margins between life and death.
Chapter 23
Everyone had to set to, making the field habitable again and we had to make do with sandwiches and whisky. The late night and the fact that we only had five serviceable aeroplanes meant that we could not muster a patrol the next day. The mechanics had just recovered Wally’s wreck when the German bombers appeared. Freddie led the five Camels into the sky while everyone else grabbed any weapon we could to throw a hail of bullets in the sky. It was an amazing sight. It was as though the whole squadron had decided that enough was enough. Even the cooks stood outside their tents shooting their Lee Enfields into the sky. The combination of ground fire and five Camels proved to be too much for the Halberstadts which were driven off with the loss of five shot down and only two new craters.
It energised the squadron and by the end of the day all the damage of the two raids was repaired. However, poor Bates was distraught that he could not draw me a bath. The giant colander was a reminder for me that I had nearly lost not only a servant but a damned good friend.
Wally’s propeller was serviceable and meant that I was available to fly the day after we were bombed. That was the day our new Camels and pilots arrived. Thanks to the mechanics we had nine Camels on patrol. We were not needed as the Hun did not return. We heard later that the French had launched an attack in the south and that had drawn the German’s venom. We just needed time to regroup and reform.
The new pilots who bumped their way along our runway were welcome reinforcements but we knew that we would have a great deal of work to do with them. Archie took the decision that they would be spread amongst all the flights. “It is about time we started doing what Bill has done. We need to make the young lads into pilots.”
On the day that we became the Royal Air Force, April the first, we were ready to become operational again. Ted was the one most amused by the change of name on April Fool’s Day. Of all of us he was the one who had changed the most since the war had begun. He was now rarely the pessimist and even tried to look on the positive side more often than not. We were all different people from the ones who had come to France in 1914. Ironically all of our new pilots had still been at school when the war had started.
We did not have the luxury of time to train the new pilots. Although the Offensive was slowing down it was not over. It would peter out by the fifth of April. I was lucky. I needed no replacements. It was decided that, when we went out on our first patrol on April second, I would provide top cover. We headed east. The line below us was now stable. Worryingly the Germans had not made an appearance for a day or two. This was partly because of the action close to the French sector and partly because we had hurt them. What I did know was that they would return and with a vengeance.
It was a cool day with cloud cover. I hated cloud cover. The Germans had a habit of hiding there. I led my flight; now the most experienced in the squadron, just below the clouds. I saw the rest of the squadron this time in lines of three as they headed north to south. I had enough confidence in my flight to head into the cloud. I waggled my wings so that Wally knew I was about to do something. The lower edge
s were thin enough for Wally to see me and the rest to see him. I used my watch to time myself. We were travelling at about two miles a minute. We were flying a leg of ten miles and then turning east. After five minutes I turned. I could see Wally behind me and I breathed a sigh of relief when he, too, turned. After another minute I waggled my wings and I descended.
As I came out I saw, below me, the Flying Circus. They were diving to attack Archie and the rest of the squadron. They had been seen for the Camels were climbing to engage them. I waggled my wings and then pushed the stick forward. We would have no time to stack our Camels. We would have to attack as soon as we could. Travelling from such a height gave us added speed and we began to catch up to the Fokkers which had a slower dive than we did. I doubted that they would be looking in their mirrors. After all, the only thing above them was the clouds!
It was the full Circus and I saw the Red Baron. He was too far away from me to attack but I saw one with a yellow rear which I targeted. This was the hardest part. I had to wait until I could not miss. If I fired too early then I would warn them and I might miss. These were the best pilots the Germans had. Voss had taken on eight pilots and nearly beaten them. Every one we shot down was irreplaceable. For the first time that I could remember we were trying to kill them. They were like a dangerous animal. They could not be caged; they had to be destroyed.
I waited until I was fifty yards from his tail and I gave him a good burst. His tail disappeared and he went into a spin. I left him. He was out of the battle and would be lucky to walk away even if he could get it down. I banked to port and aimed at the centre of the next triplane. He had seen me and he was desperately trying to lift his nose and bank towards me. He was flying superbly but I had a bead on him and I gave him a long burst. The bullets hit his fuselage and, as he turned, they stitched forward until they tore into his wing and his engine. I must have hit the pilot too for it began to spiral a death dive to earth.
1918 We will remember them Page 20