1915 Fokker Scourge

by Griff Hosker

  We made the most of our two days. We ate well. We drank well. We bought knick knacks for home. We bought wine for the mess tent and we bought some fine leather coats for the aeroplanes. I had a good one but it was showing the signs of wear and tear. If we were going to fly at altitude then I wanted to be warm. I also took the opportunity of buying some good tobacco. The tobacconist happily allowed me to try a few new blends I had not smoked before. I found one I really liked and that I was certain dad would like. I bought a few ounces for me and had a quarter of a pound sent to the Burscough estate; our Sarah would see that dad got it. It would be a pleasant surprise.

  By the time we were heading back to the airfield my pockets were almost empty but the colonel’s car was filled with our purchases and none of us regretted a single item. We had seen how swiftly death could come. It was better to live for the moment and worry about the bills later on. I did reflect that I would have to find out how much more pay I would be getting as captain. I was not mercenary, but it would be nice to know.

  We had only been away for two days but things had happened which had major implications for us. As soon as we had returned the colonel’s car we were summoned to an emergency briefing.

  The colonel nodded as we entered; we were the last. “A timely return gentlemen for I have some serious news to impart. I have just returned from a briefing of all squadron commanders. It is, indeed, fortunate that we have only had one patrol out and that involved the whole squadron. It seems that the Hun has managed to fit the Fokker Eindecker with a machine gun which fires through the propeller.”

  He sat down. There was little point in trying to talk over the hubbub of noise from the younger officers. We three sat and said nothing. Talk would not defeat such a fearsome weapon. Eventually the colonel stood after Major Leach had attained silence throughout the tent.

  “They are flying in Jastas and pouncing on any aeroplane flying alone. This has been going on for a week. The squadrons who lost pilots and aeroplanes put it down to bad luck but one pilot managed to land his badly damaged aeroplane and told his commander of the problem.”

  He smiled. “It seems I reinstated the flight system just in time. However, in light of this situation I believe that we just divide the squadron into two. Major Leach will lead one half and Captain Harsker the other. We will have to hope that our six aeroplanes can stop the rot.”

  One of the younger pilots, Lieutenant Lightfoot asked, “Sir what difference does it make? I mean they had a machine gun before.”

  Major Leach looked at the colonel who nodded. He stood. “You are correct Mr Lightfoot. However the gun was mounted on the wing and aimed above the propeller. Now whatever the pilot sees he can hit. He aims his monoplane and he is aiming his gun. He moves his aeroplane he moves his gun and he only needs one hand to do so. In addition he will remain seated too. We all know how difficult it can be to stand and fire the Lewis. He does not have that problem.” He scanned the room. “We are all lucky here. In my last squadron we had Bristols and they had a gun on the top wing. At least our gunners are in a good position to counter the attack.”

  Ted stood, “Yes sir but this also means that our blind spot is an even greater weakness. They can just aim their Fokkers at our engines and fire until they have no bullets left. We have no answer to that; even with six aeroplanes and twelve machine guns.”

  For once Ted had not been the pessimist. He had been the realist.

  The colonel stood. “Gentleman the other news I have to give you is that we are about to start an attack at Loos. This squadron will be supporting that attack. Tomorrow we will see just how effective these Fokkers with the new machine guns are. Get a good night’s sleep; you will need it.”

  As we walked back to our tent Gordy said, “Loos, isn’t that where young Bert and his mates were headed?”

  I nodded. As soon as I had heard the name my heart had sunk. I wondered now just what tunnelling engineers did, apart from tunnel obviously. How close did they get to the enemy? Would they be under fire? I had never heard of the unit until Bert had mentioned. However I now had different issues. I had Gordy and his flight under my command and I had to make decisions.

  “Gordy, do you think your lads could manage the defensive circle we talked about a while ago?”

  “I had forgotten that. Major Leach said he was going to practise it so they should have an idea.”

  “We may need to use that sooner rather than later. My lads are happy about using it. They will just follow me.”

  “In that case I will follow your number three and tell my men to follow my tail. How will we know that you are using the formation?”

  “Actually Johnny Holt pointed out that if I was flying in circles they would have to follow me. The trick is going to be to move the circle forward. Anyway mention it to them tonight and I will see my lads and Sharp now.”

  The two Beer Boys had found the experience of flying with so many other aeroplanes exciting and frightening for it was very easy to misjudge height and distance. When I told them that we would be flying with Gordy’s flight they felt reassured. “At least I will have Lieutenant Hewitt watching my tail.”

  Sergeant Sharp had come up with a novel way of protecting the front. He had found that the cooks and the Quartermaster were throwing away corrugated cardboard boxes once they had emptied them. He had packed the front of the nacelle with four inches of them. He had opened and flattened Bully Beef tins and put those between the layers of cardboard, and finally he had bound them together with the baling wire they used to keep the ammunition boxes closed. They were all light materials but there was some metal with the cardboard. I thought it was ingenious. “I don’t think they will stop a bullet but they might slow it down. It is not heavy and it is cheap.”

  He had shrugged his shoulders. “It is worth a try.”

  “It looks like we might need them sooner rather than later. Some bright spark in the German Army has fitted a machine gun which fires through the propeller. The next time an Eindecker comes at you he will be firing at you with nothing in the way.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll just find a few more pieces of cardboard, sir.”

  I smiled as I went to check the aeroplane. Since Major Hamilton-Grant had gone I felt much more comfortable checking my own aeroplane. I trusted Sharp and the mechanics but I felt better knowing I had given it the once over too.

  Chapter 9

  Our patrol was in an area we did not know well. It was only fifteen miles or so southwest of our airfield but Loos was in France and we had only patrolled Belgium hitherto. As I taxied I realised that the pilots we had fought before had known us. The fact that they had kept to their sides of the lines meant that they feared us a little. The pilots we would be facing over Loos knew nothing of us but they did know that they had an aeroplane which could fire through the propeller. That would make them confident. When Gordy had asked me could we win the war I had not thought of this outcome. A gun which could fire through a propeller could win the war for Germany.

  I forced myself to concentrate. Our task was to stop fighters attacking the Avro 504 reconnaissance aeroplanes which would be spotting for the artillery. The Avro was unarmed but could keep station for a long time. The observer could transmit information to the gunners on the ground without worrying about firing a gun. But they were vulnerable to an attack of any type.

  Major Leach had decided that we would fly south to north over the battlefield and keep five hundred feet above the Avros. It gave us the advantage of height and kept a kind of umbrella over our comrades. It was good to be ordered around by a flier once more.

  When we saw the shells begin to land behind the German lines I warned Charlie to be on his toes. We were the lead aeroplane and we would see the enemy first. The Fokkers did not let us down. A whole Jasta fell upon the Avros which flew west as fast as they could; they had heard of this new Fokker and did not wish to be fodder. They were a slow aeroplane and two Avros were hit almost immediately. The major and his flight were
closer to the stricken aeroplanes and they dived in to attack. Three Fokkers went after the Avros while the other nine climbed to engage the major and his aeroplanes. The Germans would be attacking from below. They had the advantage.

  I had my first decision to make. Did I attack the Fokkers chasing the Avros or help my squadron? I chose my squadron but, in hindsight, that was the wrong decision.

  I peeled off towards the Fokkers. They had not seen us and that gave us an edge; they had no observer and, largely, looked forward. I felt the shudder from the Gunbuses as the Fokker’s machine guns tore into the aircraft. Major Leach’s gunner died instantly and he was damaged badly. I watched as he began to glide towards our lines. The next two suffered almost the same fate. One exploded in the air while the other began to pour smoke and spiralled down to the ground. Ted and his flight were on their own.

  “Charlie, fire when you think that you can hit something.”

  Charlie was a good shot. He might hit something when other gunners might miss. His gun crackled away and I saw the bullets strike the tail of one Fokker. At the same time Ted and his flight opened fire with all of their six guns. Ted must have prepared his men for this eventuality. Miraculously they hit a Fokker which began to limp away east with a smoking engine. It somehow gave us all heart. Gordy and his flight had moved slightly right of me so that we had two flights arriving simultaneously.

  Gordy had the first confirmed kill. His gunner emptied a whole magazine into the tail of the second Fokker in the line. It began to spin towards the earth. I saw the pilot hurl himself from the aeroplane as it fell to avoid a flaming death. He still died but on his terms.

  Sharp emptied his magazine at a second Fokker. Suddenly the neat lines of the two opposing sides disintegrated as it became an aerial melee. Aeroplanes suddenly appeared from every direction. You needed your wits about you to avoid flying into another craft, both German and British. I was just looking for the black cross and a single wing. I knew that Sharp was reloading and, having already cocked my Lewis, I gave a burst as a Fokker drifted across my sights. I saw the bullets strike the lower part of the fuselage, the pilot shuddered and the aeroplane began to drift slowly east. It was damaged.

  I felt Parabellum bullets thump into the engine and the Gunbus suddenly faltered, we had been hit. “We’re hit Charlie. I am heading home. Get on the rear Lewis.”

  I banked left. I hoped that Freddy and Charlie would know why I was leaving and I prayed that they would not follow me. The Fokker which had hit us was on our tail. I felt the bullets as they continued to strike us. This new development was frightening. Then Sergeant Sharp opened fire. Perhaps the Fokker had been over confident and got too close, I do not know but Sharp’s bullets struck the engine and parts of it must have flown back and hit the pilot for Sharp suddenly shouted, “Got you, you bastard!”

  I was too busy concentrating on keeping the Gunbus steady. The engine was dying. I trimmed the engine to save as much fuel as I could and I began to glide down towards our lines. If the engine cut out then I did not want to fall from a high altitude.

  “Come on old girl. Hang on!” I found myself sweating as though in a Turkish bath. The ground was so close I could tell which of the Tommies was close shaven and which had a moustache. When I saw the windsock I almost kissed the dashboard. The engine was coughing and spluttering like an asthmatic but she got us down. As the bus groaned and grumbled to a halt I looked over and saw them lifting the dead body of Major Leach’s gunner from his aeroplane. The rest of the squadron was fighting for its life under the command of two First Lieutenants. So much for my promotion.

  Archie came over to me. “You came right on cue Bill but these Eindeckers are deadly. You do not even have to be a good shot. You just aim your aeroplane and fire.”

  We both looked up as we heard the cough and the splutter of a dying engine. It was Johnny Holt. I was pleased that Freddy was on his wing watching him. There was little he could do but I knew that Johnny would be reassured that he was not alone. The undercarriage was sound and the FE 2 rolled along the ground and then the engine died. Freddy taxied next to him.

  The two of them walked over to us. Johnny pointed over his shoulder. “One of Lieutenant Thomas’ boys, Lieutenant Jones bought it. The rest are coming in now.”

  I saw them. Gordy had brought them back as low as he dared. It meant that there was no blind spot for the Fokkers to attack but it took great nerve and skill to be able to fly that low. As I expected Ted and Gordy were the last two to land.

  I clapped them both on the back as they joined us. “Well done the pair of you. That was a good kill, Gordy.”

  The major looked at Gordy, “You shot one down?”

  “Aye. There were four of them hit and limped off but only one was downed.” He shook his head. “The Avros didn’t stand a chance and how many did we lose, two?”

  “Three.”

  “A quarter of our force. If this goes on then we last another three days and the Germans will rule the skies.”

  Gordy’s words chilled us. He was correct for another three of our aeroplanes were damaged and this was just the first day of the attack at Loos. We could not afford this number of losses.

  “Well chaps we had better report to Captain Marshall and then get our buses ready for tomorrow. I think that we will fly as one squadron tomorrow. What remains of the squadron, at any rate. We will, at least, have protection of numbers.”

  “Yes sir, but will there be any reconnaissance aeroplanes to spot for the artillery? Those Avros took a beating.”

  Captain Marshall already had the news. “I have just had Headquarters on to me. They are sending a squadron of BE 2 aeroplanes tomorrow. Our job is to support them.” He looked sadly at our unhappy faces. It must have been hard for him to watch us put ourselves in danger and then wait for the results. “It might be easier tomorrow.”

  Ted stubbed his cigarette out with some force, “And then again, sir, it might be more of the bloody same.”

  The BE 2 was an old and a slow aeroplane but it did, at least, have a couple of machine guns. The Fokkers might not find it so easy.

  Major Leach led us the next day with Ted and his flight following. My flight was given the task of being tail end Charlie. The mechanics and Sharp had performed miracles to get us back in the air. Luckily the damage had just been a damaged oil line and they could be replaced. We joined the eight BE 2 reconnaissance aeroplanes as they headed ponderously towards the battlefield. They were a slow aeroplane and it was hard to fly that slowly.

  When we reached the spotting area I was amazed to find it clear of German aeroplanes. Had they thought that they had driven us from the skies? Even as the thought entered my head I dismissed it. The Germans were too efficient to play that game. No, it was more likely that they were waiting to see where we would patrol. That way they would save fuel. The spotters managed to send back their information for fifteen minutes before we saw the unmistakeable cross like profile of the deadly monoplane.

  They came low over their own lines and I could see that they had thought this through well. They would be attacking the spotters from beneath and the gunners would find it hard to bring their guns to bear. Even though we were just five hundred feet above them, the climbing Fokkers struck the first of the BE 2. The Parabellum bullet had a steel jacket and they tore through the flimsy biplane. The first one almost disintegrated as it was shredded by the first of the Fokkers. The pilots of the spotters were brave but when three had been hit in the first encounter they began to head west as fast as their ancient engines would take them.

  We peeled off to attack them in three lines. We had worked out, the previous night, that we stood the best chance if three of our aeroplanes attacked one of theirs. I dived down, more confident now that Johnny and Freddy would be able to emulate my every move. The Fokker Eindecker I targeted was so focussed on finishing off the BE 2 that he failed to notice us as we dived down and Sergeant Sharp began to pour .303 rounds into his fuselage. He banked away from
the danger however the second Fokker began to fire at us. Sharp switched the Lewis to attack the new danger. The profile of an attacking monoplane is much smaller than that of a biplane and Sharp was missing the rapidly moving German. Johnny’s gunner came to the rescue. He was firing from the side where the Fokker was a bigger target and, between them, they drove the German away. However there were more Fokkers and the next two attacked Freddy who was now isolated in the rear. I banked and climbed to go to his rescue. I heard Sharp shout. “Gun’s jammed!”

  I cocked my Lewis and watched in horror as the two Eindeckers poured bullets into Lieutenant Carrick’s craft. His gunner’s head disappeared in a bloody mess and smoke began to pour from his engine. A monoplane came into my sights and I emptied the magazine. I had been aiming at the pilot but I struck the engine. I saw the propeller slow and then stop. The aeroplane began to glide back to the east. Had the situation not been so dire I would have followed him down and finished him off but there was a second Fokker. Lieutenant Holt opened fire. His bullets struck the undercarriage. The Fokker wobbled alarmingly and then, it too, headed east.

  Freddy waved to show that he was still alive and he headed his stricken bird west. With Johnny watching my tail I turned to seek out other foes. The sky around us was empty. I could see burning aeroplanes on the ground and, to the east and the west there were smoke trails showing where damaged aircraft had departed.

  As we approached the airfield I counted the aeroplanes. Unless there was another one behind us we had lost a fourth craft. Rolling along the turf I saw that most of the aeroplanes had suffered damage of one kind or another. I saw two shapes covered by tarpaulin. Freddy’s gunner had not been the only casualty.

  That evening in the mess the euphoria of my acquittal had dissipated. We had suffered too many deaths in a short space of time. Even older pilots like Gordy and Ted, who had both lost a pilot each were affected. For the younger ones it was a harsh lesson in flying. A little over a week ago we had ruled the skies and now we flew at our peril. The previous day we had shot down one aeroplane for the loss of three of our own. Today we had shot down none for the loss of two. As we all looked around the mess tent you could see the pilots wondering who would be next. Two or three pilots would die the next day and soon we would be a squadron in name only.