1915 Fokker Scourge

by Griff Hosker

  It was with some relief that we were stood down the following day. It was not of our choosing but the attack had been halted while the small gains the infantry had made were consolidated. I wondered if Bert had been involved. I knew nothing about tunnelling and so I had no idea what he would have done in that battle. We spent the next few days repairing our aeroplanes and conducting the regular maintenance. Every day I was grateful for the Rolls Royce engine. I was convinced that it had saved us on more than one occasion.

  The colonel returned from a hastily convened meeting of senior officers. Archie let us know the outcome. “We got off lightly. Whole squadrons of the BE 2 were decimated. Even a couple of the FE 2 squadrons were badly handled. It seems we have to patrol now in groups.”

  Gordy nodded, “Which is what we were doing anyway.”

  Archie grimaced, “Unfortunately some of the squadrons just used single aeroplanes to patrol. They were able to cover a wider area.”

  “So what do we do now?”

  “Regroup and wait for the new pilots and gunners. There is no point putting our head in the lion’s mouth until we have to eh?”

  Sergeant Sharp and I had discovered that his improvised bullet proofing had not been a total failure. We found one spent 9mm shell in the bottom of the nacelle. If it had come through then it would have struck Charlie. The problem was that it made the front cockpit crowded but Charlie was happy with the discomfort.

  Chapter 10

  We flew again during the first week of October. All twelve aeroplanes were involved. The Germans had been using Aviatik aeroplanes to spot for their artillery in an attempt to retake the small amount of land they had lost near Loos. They were protected by the Eindecker. We were going to prod the lion. It was a nervous bunch of pilots who gathered before dawn on the chilly October morning.

  “We will fly together but attack in four flights.” Archie nodded towards me, “Captain Harsker now has the most experienced flight. He will be leading the attack.” I saw pride and fear in equal measure on the faces of Johnny and Freddy. “They will attack the spotting aeroplanes. I am gambling that they will head for home. The rest of us will take on the Fokkers. We know that they will try to attack from underneath and behind. For that reason I want Lieutenant Thomas’ flight to leave a gap so that they can attack any aeroplanes who attempt that.” He picked up his pipe and began to fill it. “Let me make it clear gentlemen, I want all of you to return to the field today. Anyone who does not return will be given a detention!”

  We all laughed, before the war Archie had been a school teacher in Scotland. Many of the new pilots were young enough to remember school vividly.

  “I say sir, this is quite an honour.”

  It is Johnny but I know you realise it is also highly dangerous. I have decided, therefore, that when we attack Freddy will lead, you will watch his tail and I will be at the rear.”

  “But that is the most dangerous place!”

  “I know but I have the most experienced gunner. Sergeant Sharp knows how to deal with the Hun in the sun. Anyway I have made my decision. Make sure your guns are in perfect condition. The last thing we need is a jammed gun and take spare magazines. Good luck.” Lieutenant Carrick would have the spare gunner. So far he had had nothing to do but now he would earn his sergeant’s pay.

  As we did the final check I told Sharp of my plan. “It makes sense sir, just promise me that you will warn me if you are going to loop the loop!”

  The German shells were peppering the British defences as we flew up. It was only when you saw their accuracy that you realised you had to take on this almost suicidal mission for thousands of men’s lives were at stake. We were just twenty four men. In the scheme of things that was a drop in the ocean. Archie had told us that over twenty thousand men had already died at Loos. I had prayed that Bert was not amongst them. Johnny and Freddy had their gunners standing on their cockpits with their rear Lewis gun. This was partly to see me when I gave them the order to attack and partly practice. We were flying straight and level and no one was firing at us. As soon as I waved my arm to attack then they would resume their seats; probably gratefully! Sergeant Sharp had taken them both through the problems and pitfalls of the standing position.

  I saw the Aviatiks; there were six of them and they were spread out for a distance of a mile and a half. I signalled. I saw the two gunners wave and then sit down. Lieutenant Carrick swooped down like a bird of prey. He was seen and they began to take evasive action. The first one was too late. Freddy Carrick had had his first kill. Unfortunately his gunner must have been over excited for he emptied the magazine. I saw Johnny Holt’s gunner rake the second bird and smoke began to pour from the engine. It began to limp east. Out of the corner of my eye I saw the black crosses which identified the shape of the Fokkers. They were hurtling towards us like sheep dogs protecting their charges.

  Lieutenant Carrick opened fire himself on the third Aviatik. It was a good effort but he failed to knock it from the air. It too made its way east. We were forced to turn and follow them which would bring us on a head to head course with the enemy fighters. Sergeant Sharp saw his chance and his bullets thumped into the side of the fourth Aviatik. I saw the pilot drop and the aeroplane plummeted to the ground.

  And then the Fokkers were upon us. Their guns savagely tore into Freddy’s aeroplane. The gunner disappeared in a bloody mass. Lieutenant Carrick banked to starboard and his bus was struck again. Lieutenant Holt’s gunner came to his rescue and began hitting the Fokker which was forced to turn away. Johnny followed the German around and added his own gun to the fire of his sergeant. It was then I saw a Fokker flying directly at us. I felt his bullets strike the aeroplane. Brave Sergeant Sharp returned fire. I gritted my teeth and kept my bus as level as I could. At the last moment the German flew over us. The sky before us was suddenly empty save for the fleeing scouts. Major Leach and the others had come to our aid. As I looked around for another enemy I saw that the Fokker which had flown beyond us had done the impossible; it had managed to turn on itself and was now descending on to our tail. It was the manoeuvre which became known as the Immelmann Turn. I do not know if it was Max Immelmann himself who was flying, although Sergeant Sharp later swore that it must have been. At the time I was too busy taking evasive action.

  “Charlie, get on the rear Lewis. He is on our tail. I shall slowly bank right.” If we carried on in this direction we would be over enemy lines and I did not wish to become isolated. I felt the bullets as they struck our tail. The rudder became sluggish. Charlie braced himself and then let rip with the Lewis. We had spare magazines now, in my cockpit; this would be our first opportunity to try reloading during a dog fight. We were marginally faster than the Fokker, at the top of its turn the pilot had had to almost stall the aeroplane and his air speed was not as fast as ours. And then we had our first piece of luck. His gun jammed. Charlie’s hand came out for a magazine and I handed him a spare. He managed to change it; how I do not know for he needed both hands but he had become quite adept at balancing.

  After a long burst he shouted, “He’s leaving!”

  I looked to my left and saw the pilot wave as he headed east. At times the combat was almost civilised back in those early days of the war in the air. I had no chance to follow him as my turns were restricted by the damage to my rudder. I waved Sharp back to his seat and slowly turned west. Most aeroplanes were dots in the distance. I could not tell where my wingmen were and I headed west.

  Sergeant Sharp reconnected his tubes. “That was a hell of a turn from that Hun sir. He very nearly had us.”

  “Yes, Charlie, but you very nearly had him too. Well done.”

  Our day, however, was not over. I saw a Fokker monoplane heading for us. I saw Charlie cock his Lewis. I was grateful that he had not used the full magazine on the last one. We might need both guns.

  “Charlie, aim for his engine!”

  “Yes sir.”

  As we hurtled together at a combined speed of almost two hundred mil
es an hour I readied my Lewis. I would have one chance at this and one chance only. I would need lightning reactions. As with the other Fokker, just before we would have struck he began to climb. He would try the same manoeuvre; I do not know how I knew but I could almost sense it. As I was expecting it I was able to hit him when he was directly in front of me. My bullets must have penetrated his fuselage, his seat and finally his body for the aeroplane flopped around and fell from the sky. I watched as he spiralled to the ground.

  I was elated. We had downed one of the vaunted Fokkers. We had been lucky, I knew, but it was a victory. “Well done, Charlie, we got him.”

  I heard coughing and then Charlie said, “Well done, sir but I think he got me first. Sorry.” Then it went silent. His head was slumped to the side. I had to get back as soon as I could. I pushed the stick forward to get as much speed out of the damaged bus as possible. It seemed an age, and yet was only a few minutes when I saw the field ahead.

  Other aeroplanes were taxiing and I had to pick my way through them to land. I kept the engine going and headed for the first aid tent. I think they must have known that such an uncharacteristic landing meant I was in trouble for the doctors and orderlies raced out. I shouted. “Sergeant Sharp has been hit!”

  They manhandled the inert form and rushed him into the makeshift hospital. I jumped down and ran to the tent. An orderly stopped me. “Sorry Captain. Let the doctor and the lads do their job. You will only get in the way. Go and get a cup of tea eh sir?”

  I was about to push my way through to the theatre when I realised he was right. “You are right orderly. Let me know how he is.”

  “Of course sir and don’t worry. Doc Brennan is the best there is.”

  I saw Ted and Gordy as soon as I entered. Normally they would wave me over to join them but Gordy gestured to the right. I could see Lieutenant Carrick and he was distraught. Lieutenant Holt was reasoning with him. I grabbed a mug of tea and sat on the other side of Freddy.

  “Sir, I am a jinx. That is two sergeants who flew as my gunner and they are both dead. Look!” he spread his arms and I could see that his flying coat was covered in blood and parts of his dead sergeant. Even as I stood to help I realised I couldn’t remember his name. He had only been with us for the shortest time. “Let’s get this off. “ I undid his bloodied buttons and my mind was taken back to the day when poor Caesar had been slaughtered. The leather coat was almost like Caesar. I removed the coat and dropped it behind him.

  I saw Johnny give a shrug. He knew not what to say. In truth neither did I but I was the Flight Commander and with that rank came responsibility. “Have you had a cup of tea yet?”

  “Sergeant Higgins said he was very fond of tea.”

  “Good then he would want you to drink to his memory.” Holt looked shocked at my words but we could not tip toe around what had happened. I spooned three more sugars into the tea and stirred. I put it into his hands. “Here’s to Sergeant Higgins.” I nodded to Johnny who raised his mug too. Freddy complied and drank the hot sweet liquid. “Lieutenant Carrick you are not a jinx. If anyone is to blame for the sergeant’s death it is me. I should have been leading the line but I thought the most dangerous place was at the rear. Well I have learned my lesson and from now on I lead the line. So you see it is me who should be apologising to Sergeant Higgins and not you.”

  Freddy stared at me, “You sir? No, sir. It wasn’t your fault. But my gunner is dead and it is the second time this has happened in almost as many days.”

  “Who is the best Flight Sergeant in this squadron?”

  Freddy said, “Sergeant Sharp, we all know that.”

  “Well right now Lieutenant Carrick he is fighting for his life. The last Fokker hit him. Is that my fault?”

  “No sir. It was the German who shot him.”

  “Right. And next time you fly you make damned sure that it is the German who doesn’t come back. You are a good pilot Carrick and you have your first kill.” I nodded to Holt. “Carry on Holt.”

  He smiled, “Yes sir. I think I have the words now.”

  I took my tea and joined Gordy and Ted. I slowly filled and lit my pipe. It allowed my hands to stop shaking. I was not used to having to be a mother and a nurse. “That was a rough one.”

  Gordy nodded, “We lost another aeroplane and pilot. Lieutenant Grundy.”

  He had been one of the new ones. “Sharp was hit. He’s with the doc.”

  Their faces fell. Charlie was popular with everyone. He gave advice to other sergeants and was a wonder with the engines. “How bad?”

  I drew on the pipe and shook my head, “They took him away as soon as we landed.” I banged my hand on the table. Everyone looked around. “Dammit! We need armour plating for the gunners. They are totally exposed there.”

  Ted shook his head, “It would make the aeroplane too heavy and too slow. It is something we have to live with.”

  “Or the gunners to die with.”

  Gordy changed the subject. “Did you see the turn that Hun did?”

  Ted nodded, “That was really impressive and frightening. Still now that we have seen it we can prepare for it.”

  “If there are any of us left alive at the end of this. We have lost seven pilots in a week. We can’t go on like this. We can’t keep training them.”

  Gordy drained his tea. “Perhaps we need to do what we did before we started being pilots.” Ted and I looked at him. “Train the gunners.” He leaned in. “Between the three of us I think that you make a better pilot if you have been a gunner first.”

  He was right. “I think you have something there. When Charlie… if Charlie recovers I will suggest it to him.”

  “Don’t be so pessimistic. If it was bad they would have told you.”

  I knew that I would not be good company and I left the mess to wander over by the medical tent. I peered in through the flap. There was huddle of people around a table and I assumed that would be Charlie. One of the orderlies turned to throw a bloody rag into a bowl. He saw me and spoke to the doctor. The doctor turned and gave me thumbs up. I hoped that meant Sharp would survive. I knew that for a doctor saving a life was all that was important. Would Charlie lose a limb? That would end his career in the RFC and, in all likelihood, in any career after the war was over.

  I strolled down to the Gunbus which stood forlornly with the other damaged aeroplanes. If Sharp had not been wounded he would already be working on it. I went to the front. It looked as though moths had been at it. The front was riddled with holes. Sharp was lucky to be alive. I leaned in and saw the blood but I also saw the cardboard. It had done a job of some kind for there were some 9mm shells in the bottom of the cockpit. I saw that some of the bullets had continued on and exited close to my feet. I could have been hit too.

  There was little point doing anything and so I went back to my tent to get changed. The change of clothes made me feel cleaner outside if not within. As I came from my tent the medical orderly who had spoken to me earlier strode up to me. “Doc Brennan says Sergeant Sharp will be all right sir. We saved the leg but he will need to go back to Blighty for a bit.”

  I felt relief surge through me. “Thank you. Can I see him?”

  He shook his head, “He’s out like a light sir and, if you don’t mind me saying, you ought to get your head down too.”

  “I will and thank you for taking the time to tell me.”

  He looked at me strangely, “It was no problem, sir and well done for the Fokker today. It’s about time we started hitting back.”

  As I went to the headquarters tent I knew that I had been lucky. It had been an instinctive shot and Lady Luck had been with me. I could just as easily have missed. The monoplane was in front of my gun for the briefest of times. That was why the monoplane had the advantage. The pilot of a Fokker just had to aim his aeroplane.

  Captain Marshall was busy filling in reports. He looked up at me expectantly. “Sergeant Sharp will survive but he will need some time in Blighty.”

  “Exce
llent. That was a good hit today. It boosted morale.”

  “It was lucky. They are whittling us down. We need fighters like the Fokker with a mechanism for firing through the propellers.”

  “I think they have chaps back in England working on it but it will take some time. What we need is to capture an aeroplane and examine it.”

  I laughed, “We are damned lucky to hit the buggers! Capturing one is a pipe dream.”

  The colonel came out of the inner tent. “Good news about Sharp. Captain Marshall, we had better get a new gunner, temporary of course, for Captain Harsker.”

  “I am surprised you get any volunteers to be gunners in a Gunbus. It seems to me that with these new monoplanes and their gun a gunner does not have great odds for survival.”

  The colonel shook his head. “We have no problem with volunteers. Where is that copy of The Times that the General sent over?”

  “Here sir.”

  Captain Marshall proffered the news paper to me. “There you are, Bill. Read that and you will see why we have no problems with volunteers.”

  The newspaper had been folded so that there was one story visible. I began to read.

  British Gunner Becomes A Hero

  Sergeant William Harsker RFC has shown us all what it takes to defeat the Huns. After bravely serving in the Yeomanry and fighting at the Marne, this plucky farm worker volunteered for the RFC where his skill as an air gunner has resulted in many downed German Aeroplanes.

  Newly promoted to Lieutenant and a pilot Lieutenant Harsker has five downed German aeroplanes to his name. He is an inspiration to all and an example of British pluck and determination.