by Griff Hosker
It would have been a pleasant patrol but for one thing; the Germans. Ten specks appeared on the horizon and then ventured west. The ground troops popped away ineffectually for they were too high. They were flying just below the cloud cover. Six of them were the new Albatros D.IIs but four of them were the Albatros C.III and they carried bombs. They were after our field. I led the squadron to meet them.
The odds were slightly in our favour. The C.III was much slower than any of us and our two Camels could out fly them all. C Flight was ahead and our newly combined Flight led by Ted followed us. As we neared them they began to dive towards us and we adjusted our climb. I had just fired at a D.II when I saw six Albatros D.IIIs pounce from the clouds. It was a trap and it was too late for us to escape. We had not walked we had galloped into it. As we climbed I realised that we could not escape. We could turn and out run the enemy but if we did so then the Germans would bomb our airfield and our friends would die. If we died now, we could save our friends. There was no argument. I clutched the watch containing Beattie’s hair and said, “I love you Beattie!” She would never hear it but it was there floating around in the air and I was content.
I knew that Freddie and I would have to destroy the bombers. We had the best chance. I turned and shouted, “The bombers!”
I repeated it and he nodded. There were two Albatros D.IIs in our way. I dipped my nose and raised it before giving the first one both Vickers. The pilot panicked and he jerked his stick to loop. I ignored him and pressed on. I could not watch anyone else now. I was on my own. I knew that the other Albatros D.IIs would do all in their power to stop me. I had to be as efficient as I could with my ammunition. The brave bomber pilots kept heading west. I made my trajectory low and I fired at the first bomber. I was below his nose and his rear gunner could not depress his gun. Two Vickers’ machine guns can do serious damage and I hit both the engine and pilot. They were dead and I aimed my Camel at the second bomber. I ignored the bullets hitting my wings; the Camel was a tough aeroplane. I repeated my shot and had the same result. The remaining four bombers, for Freddie had hit one too, took evasive action. I think that saved my life for we were able to get closer to them and the fighters could not fire at us for fear of hitting their own bombers.
I seemed to bear a charmed life. I heard bullets zipping around and hitting my fuselage but none did any serious damage. I determined to stay below them. That way their gunners had no target. I banked to port to follow the bomber which tried to climb away. I was almost thirty miles an hour faster and had a much faster rate of climb. Had he dived he would have had more chance. I had no fear for I knew that I would be shot down eventually. Every bullet I fired was a bonus. My twin Vickers tore into his engine and he began to leak smoke. He banked and turned to the east.
Ahead of me was open sky. Behind me I saw an Albatros D.II. I looped. I knew that I could out climb him. I watched as he disappeared from my mirror. I came around and I saw his tail less than thirty feet from my propeller. I just fired. The bullets shredded his tail and he was forced to descend. There was nothing left in my mirror but ahead I could see one bomber which had evaded Freddie and me. It was heading for the field. All that I could think of was poor Johnny lying in the hospital. Suppose the bomb hit there. I headed for him. I was fast enough to be able to reel him in despite the fact that he was almost half a mile ahead.
I saw the field; it was three miles or so away. There were no guns and no balloons to stop him. In my mirror behind me I saw the furious fights in the sky. I put them from my mind. I had one target and he was drawing closer. My problem was ammunition. How much had I used? I would have one shot and one shot only. I dipped my nose to approach from below. His gunner might get lucky and hit me. The field was a mile away and he was less than a third of a mile away. I could fire and hit him but I had to make sure.
I saw the gunner reach out and hold his first bomb. I was now two hundred yards away. I took a sudden decision. I pulled my Luger and fired nine shots in his direction. He ducked. It bought me enough time to get a little closer. At one hundred yards I had no choice. He was over the field and the gunner had the bomb ready. I pulled the triggers until they clicked empty. Someone was watching over me that day for I managed to hit the bomb. The brave pilot and gunner exploded over the airfield. My friends were safe.
I banked and looked east. The survivors from the squadron were landing. I suspect the loss of their bombers had discouraged the Germans. I turned again and landed.
None of the landings were good. I watched from my Camel. Freddie’s had been badly shot up. Tony Hanson was missing and the wings of the rest of the buses looked like Swiss cheese.
I climbed out and made my weary way over to them. When I saw Doc Brennan running to Freddie I found new energy and ran myself. I saw blood and that Freddie was not conscious. Doc Brennan waved me away as he followed his stretcher bearers to the hospital. Freddie’s Camel was badly damaged. Ted’s Bristol was the next to land and its left front wheel suddenly collapsed and it stopped at a bizarre angle. Gordy’s was on fire as he landed. He and his gunner leapt from his bus and ran before the whole aeroplane caught fire.
The rest of the flight all landed and shell shocked crews walked from them. Dave Ferry looked in a daze, “He just blew up! He just bloody blew up!”
“Who, Dave?”
“Tony Hanson.”
The crews staggered off and I walked around their buses. None of them would fly the next day. We had stalemate. We had stopped the Germans but we could not go up again. The offensive would begin the day after tomorrow and we were like a newborn baby.
Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery confirmed the bad news. “We have one bus for tomorrow, Major Harsker. Yours! That’s all. I can have three Bristols ready for the 31st and that is it!”
Doc Brennan also gave us bad news. “Freddie Carrick has a bad wound to the leg. He will be out for months.”
“But he will live?”
“Oh aye. The bullet went through muscle.”
Archie leaned back. “That makes this nice and easy, we can’t fly tomorrow.”
Everyone, remarkably, seemed to relax. The telephone when it went made us all start. Randolph answered it. “Yes sir?” He nodded and wrote some information down. “But sir we only have one aeroplane fit to fly.” There was another silence. “Major Harsker…. Very well sir. I will tell him.”
Everyone looked at me. I poured another whisky. “I take it I am flying tomorrow?”
The others looked incredulously at Randolph. “That is ridiculous! The laddie canna do it alone.”
Randolph downed his whisky in one, “I am sorry Major but they want every bus which can fly in the air tomorrow. The attack begins the day after and they don’t want the Hun to know our dispositions.”
Ted stood, “I’ll go and have a word with Lowery. He might be able to work a miracle.”
“I’ll join you, Ted.”
After Gordy and Ted had left I asked. “So how will it work? I pop up on my own?”
“No, Bill. There will be two squadrons up there; a mixed squadron of DH 2s and Gunbuses and a BE 2 squadron.”
My mouth opened and closed at the lunacy of that. “Those poor buggers won’t stand a chance.”
Randolph nodded, “Hence the seriousness of the situation.”
“Right sir. I had better go and get ready.”
The riggers and mechanics had finished with my bus. I saw a huddle of mechanics busy with Cecil’s bus. I wandered over and Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery said, “This is the only one we have a chance of fixing sir.” He spread his arms apologetically. “Most of our spares are down in the south of the line at the field. “
“I know Raymond, just do your best.”
I found an excited Cecil and Speight. “Is it true sir, are we coming up with you tomorrow?”
“If the lads can repair your bus then yes.”
Speight punched the air, “Then I have a great chance of increasing my lead against the other gunners!”
/> I shook my head. “We will be going up against overwhelming odds.”
Cecil nodded seriously, “Yes sir, but we will be with you. How can we fail?”
Bates fussed over me as soon as I reached my tent. “You will be careful won’t you Major Harsker? Don’t be too heroic.”
“I never try to be heroic, Bates. I just do my duty.”
He gave me a sceptical look. “Well I will be glad when the squadron is stood down. We have lost too many fine young men lately and I can’t see that we have gained much.”
Bates was right. Although we had shot down more than our fair share of German aeroplanes in terms of the ground gained it was negligible. We could see, from the air, how little we had advanced. I hoped that the offensive of 31st of July would make all the difference. However, a little voice inside my head told me that it would not.
It was dark when the three of us ate our breakfasts. They say a condemned man is given a hearty meal before the last walk. It felt like that to me. Archie, Randolph, Gordy and Ted all joined me and Cecil as we boarded our buses. Randolph handed me the map. “I have marked the rendezvous there. You and Cecil will be between the other two squadrons. The BE 2s will be to starboard.”
“Thank you. Ready Cecil?”
“Rather!”
The noise of the engines seemed inordinately loud on that chilly July morning. We rose into the sky and I circled to gain altitude. Today, of all days, we would need it. As I was levelling out I heard the Bristol’s engine begin to cough and splutter. Cecil tried to bring it back to life but there was no power. He waved in the direction of the field and I nodded. As he left I know that he thought I would return with him but I didn’t. Those pilots and gunners in the BE 2s might not be in my squadron but they were British and I owed it to them to do all that I could.
In one way it was a relief. I would not have to worry about Cecil and he and Speight would survive. He might live to survive the war! I reached the rendezvous early and I circled as I waited for the other two squadrons to arrive. I had time to reflect that if we had not been sent from Arras then the Germans would have had free rein and there would probably be no British aeroplanes left to oppose them. We had paid a high price but we had done what was asked of us. The brass could ask no more.
Dawn was breaking when I heard the drone of the BE 2s as they arrived. Their squadron leader waved to me. I could not see his face but I was betting that it would be a mixture of amazement and shock that there was but one aeroplane from 41 Squadron. They set off in a loop south and then north. I followed. When we reached the start point the DH 2s and the Gunbuses had arrived. The new squadron looked strange with their pusher engines. The Gunbuses, which had seemed so familiar to me once, long ago, now looked like enormous prehistoric creatures. However I knew that they were sturdy and would hold their own. They might not shoot down many Germans but they would be hard to kill.
The two Jastas arrived thirty minutes after the other two squadrons. I realised I would have an hour at the most and then I would have to return to base. We had parity of numbers but not quality. We would be lucky to last an hour. The Gunbuses and the BE 2s could fly north to south and use their gunners to fire at the Germans. The DH 2 and I would have to fly at them or be shot down. Six aeroplanes headed east; one Camel and five DH 2s. It was not a bad tactic for we might be able to break up their formation.
I began to climb. I wanted to use my superior speed and ceiling. Surprisingly none of the German fighters followed. I was one lone aeroplane, what damage could I do? I felt suddenly free. I could fly as fast as I liked and twist and turn to my heart’s content. I could not crash into any of my fellows for I was far faster than the DH 2. I had nothing to lose save my life. I touched my pocket watch and the lock of hair. Beattie was with me. I was invincible!
I dived at the advancing line of fighters. I flew obliquely at their line. I was causing them a dilemma. Did they adjust their line for one lone Camel? I further confused them by banking to port and flying obliquely in that direction. I risked the fighters to starboard but they had begun to adjust to my attack. I had, perhaps, thirty seconds grace; I used it. I opened fire at two hundred yards. My angle of attack meant that I was flying across the front of the line of fighters. I must have fired a hundred rounds and I struck four of their fighters. I knew I could not hope to destroy any in one pass but I wanted to disrupt them and give the BE 2s a chance. Miraculously I saw smoke pouring from a Fokker D.II. I banked towards it as it dipped its nose. I banked to starboard and flew through the gap; away from the German guns. I continued my turn and found that the fighters were still concentrating on the easier target of the BE 2s. The fact that I was alone worked in my favour.
I fired at the rear of each fighter as I passed. I was less profligate with my ammunition and no fighter took more than ten rounds. I had no time to see if I had done damage. My only hope was to keep moving and firing for as long as I could. I was now flying along their line and heading towards the Gunbuses. I saw a DH 2 as it spiralled in a death dive and a Gunbus with a smoking engine limping west. The BE 2s appeared to be holding their own. I saw an Albatros with a large yellow Edelweiss painted on its fuselage and a green rudder. It flashed before my sights and I gave a longer burst. I immediately saw smoke coming from the engine. I barely had time to lift the nose and avoid a collision. As I did so I saw the Fokker on my tail and its bullets hit my tail and then thudded into the Albatros; killing the pilot. The Germans were doing my job for me.
I looped my Camel. I saw empty sky above me. I reached the top; then I was descending rapidly. I saw that my opponent, too, had tried to loop but the smaller Camel had turned inside him. I fired a burst into his tail. As I continued to loop, faster than him, I kept firing. The fighter suddenly lurched to one side and began to fall from the sky. Bullets began to strike me from every direction. The fighters were like angry wasps when their nest has been disturbed and they were attacking me from all points of the compass. Although they were hitting me they were also in danger of colliding with each other as well as shooting their own men. I knew that I was running out of ammunition and fuel. I dropped my wing and begin to dive towards the ground. I was aware of bullets hitting me as I passed through the maelstrom of lead. I gritted my teeth and endured it. I just hoped that the Camel would hold together on its steep dive.
I saw the trenches below me; they were the Canadian lines. I began to pull back on the stick. I found sweat pouring from me as I struggled to bring up the nose. I still had plenty of air space but I could see, in my mirror the four fighters which had followed me. As the nose slowly came up I saw the BE 2s who had survived heading west. I kept the Camel at two hundred feet. It was the Canadians who saved me. They put up a barrage of machine gun and rifle fire which created a wall of lead behind me. In my mirror I saw two Fokkers fall from the sky to their deaths. The rest withdrew. I waved to the brown uniforms below me. They would enjoy the victory as much as I did.
The field had never looked so welcoming as I brought in the battered and bruised Camel. It would need a great deal of work to enable her to fly soon. One thing was certain, I would not be flying on the first day of the Offensive.
The whole of the squadron raced to gather around my bus. Gordy shook his head, “We saw most of that. You are as mad as a fish!” He pointed to my wings and the engine which were riddled with bullet holes. “You proved one thing. The Camel is a tough aeroplane in the right hands.”
We made our way to the mess. A report would have to wait. All of us were celebrating my survival. The last three bottles of brandy I had bought were opened and everyone toasted the Sopwith Camel. That was the true hero of that battle. Randolph was summoned to answer the telephone and when he returned he clapped me on the back. “That was headquarters. The Canadians and the two squadrons who were up today were singing your praises. The Germans did not get through. We only lost five aeroplanes and they reckon that is down to you.”
“Well I hope that means that tomorrow we have no Germans to fac
e for we haven’t any aeroplanes to send up.”
I was woken in the night by heavy rain as it thudded on the tent walls. The Passchendaele Offensive would go ahead but we would not fly that day. As it turned out my flight and my fight were the last ones in the Passchendaele sector. We were sent back to Arras and replaced by a brand new squadron of SE 5s. Not that it really mattered for the rains meant that no one flew for the first five days of the offensive and the poor soldiers had to wade through mud to reach their objectives. The one thousand yards they gained was paid for by five hundred Germans, British and Canadians for every yard.
As I flew a much repaired Camel south I reflected that the sacrifices had all been in vain. Our squadron had done its duty and we had bled just as much as the men on the ground but as with so many battles it had been for nought.
Epilogue
We had been back at our old field for a week when the news finally came through that the first Passchendaele Offensive had stopped. We had our replacement pilots and Camels but there was an empty feeling in the squadron. We had lost too many good men in the battle at Ypres.
We were at dinner one night when Randolph came in and whispered in Archie’s ear. Our Squadron Leader held his hands up for silence, “Gentlemen, I have just been informed that Major William Harsker has been awarded the Victoria Cross for his rescue of Lieutenant Holt!” There was a tumultuous noise as everyone cheered. The sergeants came in to hear what the noise was about and the words spread like wild fire. Gordy and Ted hammered my back screaming like banshees. Archie roared, “Silence.” Everyone went quiet. “All of you fill your glasses. No-one deserves this more. Our leading ace deserves a second one for Passchendaele. He fought as bravely as an eagle. Gentlemen I give you Bill Harsker, the Eagle of the skies!”
Everyone toasted me but I felt empty. There were too many eagles who had fallen. I raised my glass but I was raising it to the eagles who had fallen, Lord Burscough, Charlie, Harry and even Lumpy. I, for one, would never forget them. I hoped the country would remember them too.