by Griff Hosker
I knew the men were frustrated. It seemed cowardly somehow but until we had better aeroplanes then we would have to eat humble pie and travel mob handed.
Bates was delighted. “Oh this is much better, Captain Harsker. Look what happened when you only had two aeroplanes with you. You were shot down! No, I will sleep easier now.”
The Major led us the next day while Lieutenant Kay’s aeroplane was repaired. As I had seen German troops moving up towards Cambrai we patrolled that sector. We left early for there were reports of aeroplanes in the vicinity. As soon as we reached No-Man’s Land we saw the two reconnaissance aeroplanes. They were obviously photographing our lines. That was normally the prelude for either a raid or an offensive. As soon as we began to climb they decided that discretion was the better part of valour and headed east.
Archie took us high above the front lines. We had four cameras amongst the squadron and the gunners photographed the German lines which would be assaulted. None of it would be a surprise. When our next offensive came we would have to patrol well behind the enemy lines and I did not relish the prospect.
Six Halberstadts appeared and I wondered if they would take us on. Lumpy’s eyes picked out the squadron markings and he told me it was the same squadron we had knocked about a little. They were wary and when Archie took the squadron east, then they left. It was something of an anti climax when we headed west. I was philosophical. We had suffered no casualties and stopped the observers taking photographs.
I was lying in my bath when Bates burst in. I knew that something terrible had happened for it was not his usual style. His face was red and his eyes were wild.
“I am sorry to burst in, sir, but the captain just received a message. Lord Burscough and five of his pilots were shot down. He is dead!”
I was stunned. How could that be? Lord Burscough was the finest pilot I had ever known. I had been his gunner and he had taught me how to fly. He was like an imperious eagle and yet he was now dead. The DH 2 had been one of the few new aircraft which had shown promise. If his lordship had died flying one as well as half of his hand-picked squadron then what chance did the rest of us stand?
I was suddenly aware that John was weeping. He had enjoyed his time at the Big House. It had been his world and he been enchanted with both his lordship and Lady Mary. They had fitted his mental picture of a perfect pair of aristocrats. The death of Lord Burscough would shatter his world and make him even more fearful for me.
“If you want to take the night off…”
He stiffened, “Oh no, sir. His lordship did his duty and I shall do mine.”
As he dressed me I thought about the effect on mum and dad. They had known him since he had been a child it would be as bad as losing me or Bert. I hoped that they were strong enough to survive the shock.
That evening, after the loyal toast, Captain Marshall stood. There were just five of us left who had flown with Captain Burscough, as he had then been. “Gentleman can you raise your glasses in memory of a fine pilot, a courteous gentleman and one of the best officers to serve in this squadron: Lord Burscough.”
We downed our drinks in one and there was a sombre, almost funereal atmosphere. It contrasted with the heady days in summer, before I had been shot down, when we had felt invincible. Now doubts were creeping in. Even when I had been shot down I had been convinced that we would survive. Now I was not certain. Perhaps Gordy had it right, and Charlie. Maybe I should live for the moment. Marrying Beattie as soon as possible was now a priority.
We knew things were serious when, after a week of storms where no flying was possible, we had a visit from the commander of the Royal Flying Corps in France, Major General Hugh Trenchard. I had seen him before but I was more familiar with General Henderson.
I thought he would just wish to speak with Archie but I was summoned to the office. There were just the three of us there. He gave me a wry look. “General Henderson has mentioned you more than once, Captain Harsker. You may not be the ace with the greatest number of kills but you are certainly the one that people talk about.”
There was little I could say to that, “Well sir, I always try to do my duty.”
“I don’t doubt that for one moment and no criticism was implied. Smoke if you wish.” The three of us filled our pipes. When his was going he continued, “I wanted you here because I know that you like to go on the offensive whenever you can. I have heard of you taking on odds of four to one. That is what I like. Now I know that it may seem the wrong time to go on the offensive when the Germans had superior aeroplanes. I happen to believe that offense is the best form of defence.”
I looked at Archie. “But General Trenchard, the FE 2 is a dependable aeroplane but it has seen its best days. Bill here is the best pilot in the squadron but he would stand no chance against this Von Richthofen and his red painted Albatros.”
“I am sorry, Major Leach, but this Baron is just one man a man with one squadron. I know that we have more aeroplanes than the Germans. Are you telling me that our pilots aren’t good enough?”
“No, I am saying, General Trenchard, that our aeroplanes aren’t good enough.”
“Hmn.” He looked at me. “You are a bit quiet. Cat got your tongue?”
I smiled, he sounded like my dad. “No sir.” I rose and went to the cupboard with the models of the aeroplanes. “You are a pilot sir so I know you will understand.” I modelled to show him what I meant. “The Gunbus has fine defensive qualities. We have two guns at the front and one at the rear. But we are slow. When the Albatros comes at us it has two Spandau machine guns firing steel jacketed bullets. They fire at a gunner with no protection.” I smiled, “I was a gunner and I know how scary it is. They can kill the gunner on their first pass. They do the Immelmann turn and get behind us. From what I have heard this is easy in the new Albatros. We have no protection if the gunner is incapacitated. We used to be able to counteract the Immelmann when it was the Eindecker; they were slow. The Albatros is so fast and nippy that they can turn inside us come up behind and we have a crashed Gunbus and a dead pilot. And that sir, will happen no matter how good the pilot is.”
“I see. Well explained. You see I thought the gunner in the front was the deterrent but you are saying that he is not.”
“Not with two guns firing at him, sir. It is simple mathematics. The Hun has twice the chance of hitting us. The pilot is, in some ways, protected by the body of the gunner. We get through more gunners than pilots.”
He was silent for a while. I learned that he was a thoughtful man. “I am glad I had this chat with you. Look, I will try to get you the new Sopwith Pup. It is a single seater but it is nippy and it is fast. It has a synchronised Vickers machine gun. It’s the best I can do until we can get the Bristols built.” He looked at Archie, “Any malt, Major?”
“Aye sir.” He poured us three glasses and the general toasted us.
“However, I still want you to take the fight to the Germans. You have done it before. Fit bombs to your buses and harass their rear areas. If this Red Baron fellow turns up then you have my permission to run. You have shown here at 41 Squadron, that you have the ability to achieve more with the Gunbus than anyone other squadron on the Western Front. I want you to buy me a month to get the new aeroplanes out to the squadrons.” He lowered his voice. “By March we will be preparing for a new offensive and you will be operating behind German lines. Hopefully when we reach spring you should have three new aeroplanes, perhaps more.”
We waved him off and then Archie shook his head. “I think yon general has just signed the death warrant for most of the young laddies in this squadron Bill.”
“We’ll just have to do our best then. We can use the old technique of two flights bombing and two escorting and watching out for fighters.”
He laughed, “The glass is always half full with you, isn’t it Bill?”
Surprisingly enough the general’s surprise visit made us more optimistic. We knew that we were in trouble but the fact that we were considered s
o good gave us hope. The gossip permeated the whole squadron and evening saw us in high spirits. Part of it was due to the fact that the storms had not abated and we would not be flying the next day but the rest was down to the general.
Charlie also showed a different side to himself. He had really come out of his shell since meeting Alice. He had had a little too much to drink, but then we all had. He began to tell us about some of the shows he had seen in London with Alice.
“We saw this marvellous chap from the north east, Mark Sheridan. He’s getting on a little bit but he sang some wonderful songs.”
Gordy winked at Ted, “Sing us one!”
“I haven’t got a voice, I …”
Ted started clucking like a chicken and the young pilots began to chant, “Sing, Sing, Sing.”
Red faced he said, “Very well then.” He took off his jacket and struck a pose. When he began to sing I couldn’t believe what a good voice he had.
“Oh! I do like to be beside the seaside
I do like to be beside the sea!
I do like to stroll along the Prom, Prom, Prom!
Where the brass bands play:
"Tiddely-om-pom-pom!"
So just let me be beside the seaside
I'll be beside myself with glee
And there's lots of girls beside,
I should like to be beside
Beside the seaside!
Beside the sea!”
The mess exploded. It was like a release of tension and emotion. He had to perform it a second and a third time. Ted and Gordy disappeared during the third rendition and emerged with tea towels on their heads and aprons around their waists. They vamped it up as women next to Charlie and performed it a fourth and fifth time. I was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down my cheeks.
The rest of the evening was joyous. Archie took me to one side. “I think your sister has done more for morale than a hundred Christmas tins from the king.”
The exuberant atmosphere continued into February. Partly that was because we had few missions to fly and the Red Baron and Jasta 11 could not slaughter anymore of our comrades. Two things happened quite quickly: the weather cleared and the first of the three Pups promised to us arrived.
Although I was keen to try the new beastie out, Flight Sergeant Lowery and Major Leach were adamant that the mechanics and armourer should examine them first now that they had finally arrived. Bearing in mind what had happened to Lieutenant Kay when he flew a factory fresh fighter I concurred. It would only mean a delay of a day or two and then I would have to allocate Lumpy to another pilot. I knew that he would be unhappy. I immediately thought of Ted. They would make a good team. One was dour and one was ebullient. Nothing ever got Flight Sergeant Hutton down.
Chapter 8
We were up before dawn. We checked the guns and the buses twice. We needed no jammed guns this time. We fitted flights D and B with bombs. Charlie and I would act as aerial cover. The major joined us so that we had twenty one aeroplanes. I had never flown such a large operation. Just before the engines started Lumpy sounded the bugle and the cavalry charge. There was a cheer over the airfield. I have no idea what Major General Trenchard would have made of it but it improved the morale of the squadron no end.
We headed across No-Man’s Land. There was cloud cover but it was not low cover.” The German fighters could fly at a much higher altitude than our Gunbuses. “Flight Sergeant, keep your eyes peeled.”
“Sir.”
“Have you got your Mills bombs handy?”
“Always sir. You know I will have to think of a job for after the war where I can throw something. I seem to have a knack for it.”
“Don’t worry, Hutton, you will do well after the war. You have the ability to adapt to any situation. I will probably end up working for you!”
“In which case I will make sure you are well paid, sir.”
As we crossed No-Man’s Land we both cocked our weapons. The Major and the bombing buses were a thousand feet below us. They would see the targets sooner than we would. I saw the line of water snaking north. It was the Canal De Saint Quentain. I watched as Archie banked. He had seen a target.
“What is the name of that village, Lumpy?”
“Masnières, sir.”
“Mark it then. I think the Major is going to attack.”
I banked, too, so that we were flying north to south. That way we could watch to the east. I glanced down as the Major led the buses down. It looked like barges had moored for the night. Even moving they would still be an easy target. They were confined to a narrow canal. I did not have the luxury to be an observer. I looked east. The secret was to move your head slowly and examine each piece of the sky. We heard the crump of the bombs as they struck. There was one loud explosion which sounded as though we had hit ammunition. Lumpy and I had to focus on the skies.
There was a lull below us as we turned at the end of the leg and headed north again. The Gunbuses would be beginning their second run. I hoped they would only use two runs. We were pushing our luck as it was. Lumpy saw them as soon as I did. I recognised them as a mixture of Fokker D.III and D.II. The D.III had the twin machine guns. They were heading in two V formations directly for the Major and the rest of the squadron. We had the advantage of altitude. It was our only advantage and I was about to throw it away when we dived.
“Here we go. Usual procedure, Lumpy, I’ll go for the Hun ahead and you enjoy yourself.”
“Very kind of you sir.”
I hoped that I would be able to change my magazine for I knew that we would need it. As we dived down I saw six Fokkers peel off and rise towards us. They formed two lines. The bad news was that these were D.III. We were in for a world of pain. I decided to burst through the middle of them. We were so big that we would break up their formation. It also meant that the two flights would be able to bring all our guns to bear. The leading pilot made the mistake of firing too soon. He barely missed us; one bullet pinged off the stanchion holding the rear firing Lewis. You have to assume that the bullets will miss you. If you flinched you might be dead. I had to keep us as stable as possible. I opened fire as did Lumpy. I saw my bullets arc and I corrected our descent until I saw them strike his engine. I had no propeller in front of me.
They rose above us and the last of my magazine was emptied into his belly as he soared above me. I quickly tried to change the magazine as the next Fokker flight rose towards us. My arm had healed up but it seemed to take an age. Hutton was firing for he had changed his magazine already. I had just changed it when the Hun’s bullets ripped into the front cockpit. I heard a scream as Hutton was hit. I opened fire and had the satisfaction of hitting the Fokker’s engine.
I began to bank and head west. Below me I saw two burning buses and the rest heading west. We could head home… if the Germans would allow us to. Suddenly I felt the thud of Parabellum rounds as they hit the engine. I needed Lumpy on the rear gun. “Hutton we have a German on our tail.”
I heard a sob of pain and Flight Sergeant Hutton held up what remained of his left hand. It was a bloody stump. His hand and part of his wrist had been shattered. He had had the wit to fashion a tourniquet. He tried to turn towards me. “I am sorry…” His head slumped forward. I hoped his tourniquet was tight else he would bleed to death before I could land. I had no time to reflect on his wounds for more bullets struck the engine and I felt the loss of power. My bus was mortally wounded. I banked right in an effort to throw him off. The ground seemed to be coming at me rapidly… too rapidly and I pulled back on the stick. The old bus seemed sluggish. I was not certain I could land. “Come on old girl. Lift your nose.”
What saved us was the huge expanse of wings. Ever so slowly the nose came up. I saw the roof of a half destroyed house loom ahead of me. We barely cleared it but I think it must have thrown off the aim of the German behind because the bullets stopped.
“Well Lumpy, it’s time to get home and get you seen to.” There was an ominous silence from the front coc
kpit. I was too low to risk looking behind me and I was not certain how much power I had left. I would keep at a lower altitude in case we had to crash land. I reached down for the Very pistol. I risked lifting the nose a little when I was a mile from the field. I saw Gunbuses taxiing along the green sward as I fired my pistol. I could see huddles of men around the parked aeroplanes. The Major had suffered casualties too.
The engine gave a sickly cough as we cleared the hedgerow. We were landing but it was the Gunbuses’ choice, not mine. There was an ugly crunch as the undercarriage hit the ground too hard and one wing dropped alarmingly to the ground. If we flipped then we were both dead. Luckily the lower wing bit into the ground and we slewed around. The tail lifted a little before crashing to the ground and we were down.
I scrambled out and ran to the cockpit. Doc Brennan and his orderlies, as well as the fire crews, were running towards us too. When I saw the front of the cockpit it looked like a colander. I dreaded what I would see. I put my hand on Hutton’s neck and felt a pulse. He was still alive.
Doc Brennan reached me. “How are you Bill?”
“Not a scratch but Lumpy has lost a hand.”
“Right. Clear off then. You are only in the way.”
It was brutally true and I stepped away from the wrecked aeroplane. My hands were shaking. I took my pipe out to fill it. I counted the aeroplanes as they landed. We had lost aeroplanes. I also saw slumped and bloodied gunners. The twin Spandau machine guns had decimated our squadron. Flight Sergeant Hutton was still, mercifully, unconscious as he was cut free from the cockpit and laid upon a stretcher. I wandered over.
Doc Brennan held something in his hand. “Your sergeant might lose his hand, possibly his arm, but he has been extremely lucky.” He handed me the mangled bugle which had lain in his lap. “I think the bullets hit this and were deflected into his hand. If it weren’t for the bugle then they would have gone through him and, I suspect, your legs too. You have both been lucky.”