1915 Fokker Scourge (British Ace Book 2)

by Griff Hosker

  We drank in silence for a while and then Lieutenant Carrick said, “Sir, how do you fire the rear Lewis and fly at the same time?”

  “We do not do that very often. The rear Lewis is handy if we are attacked from above and behind. Luckily the Germans find it hard to do that. The Aviatik only has a gun at the rear and the Fokker‘s gun is aligned above the propeller. They can make mincemeat of you if they are below you but a Fokker above you is, largely, impotent.”

  Johnny drained his tea. “There must be a way to protect our blind spot.”

  I remembered the conversation with Gordy, Ted and Billy. “Lieutenant Campbell and I came up with an idea.” I placed the three empty cups in a circle. “We would fly in a circle so that we each protected the rear of the others. It would mean that we would progress slower as we would be circling but, at a pinch, it might save us.”

  “Has anyone tried it yet sir?”

  “No Freddy. If we have to use it you will know because I will fly in a circle around to Johnny’s tail. It is the same principle, follow my leader.”

  I went to see Captain Marshall and the colonel. I explained about the ambushes. “You see sir, they have someone over there who is trying to use the poorer aeroplanes they have to wrest the advantage from us. I think we played into their hands before because we were single aeroplanes. They were using five or six to one to guarantee a kill. It would be a war of attrition and they would wear us down.”

  “This could still happen though, Bill. Even with a flight of three of our aeroplanes they would outnumber by two to one. And they still have the advantage.”

  “The point is, Captain Marshall, that the worry that Bill, here, has is that they are coming from behind our lines. How?”

  I had been thinking of the problem. “Unless they have an airfield behind our lines, and I have ruled that out, then they must be coming over early.”

  “Wouldn’t the ground troops hear them?”

  “Not if they flew high. Then they could turn and drop to a much lower altitude and watch for us.”

  “And that means that they must be waiting somewhere close to the airfield.”

  The colonel stood and examined the map. “Then tomorrow we will try to trap those Germans ourselves. Captain Marshall I want an officers’ briefing before dinner tonight.”

  We took off before dawn. We had two lines of mechanics lining the field with hand held oil lamps to mark the runway. We risked the German aeroplanes seeing the lights but we had not devised a better way to take off in the dark as yet. Major Leach’s flight had not taken off with the rest of us. They would be the bait. The three flights headed west. We did not fly high; we had no need to. We flew with a four mile gap between us. We would wait well behind out own lines. I was given the southern sector as I had the least experienced flight. We assumed it would be Gordy’s flight in the middle who would engage the enemy.

  We watched the sun rise before us and the glorious July morning showed us an empty sky. There was nothing. We flew a box pattern at a thousand feet. Below us we could see in the distance the men in the trenches coming to life. Tendrils of smoke from fires trickled into the air. We saw movement along the communication trenches. But of the Germans we saw nothing. Then I heard Sharp’s voice. “There, sir, to the north. It looks like Lieutenant Hewitt has spotted them.”

  I looked where he pointed. I could see the Fokkers fleeing east, hotly pursued by Gordy and his flight. They were heading towards the south east. “Let’s see if we can cut them off then.”

  I waved my arm and headed due east. We had superior speed, height and the Fokkers were flying into our flight path. They seemed unaware of our presence as they jinked around the skies trying to out fly the Gunbus. They did have the advantage of more manoeuvrability. That only worked so long as they were not hit. I saw the bullets from Gordy’s gunner strike the tail of one of the Fokkers which was forced to peel off north. The third aeroplane in Gordy’s flight swooped on to its tail.

  We were now over the German lines and their soldiers were trying to help their aircraft by firing their rifles at us. We were in more danger than Gordy because we were still some way from the Fokkers. We were, however, gaining hand over fist. They seemed to be drawn towards us.

  “Whenever you are ready Charlie, have a pop.”

  “Sir!”

  When the Lewis opened fire it seemed unnaturally loud. The bullets flew over the cockpit of the first Fokker. The second took evasive action and headed north east. I glanced to my left and saw Gordy peeling off after him. We kept on after our victim. He tried every trick in the book. He rose and then dived, he flicked left and then right. He even tried to bank right and that was his undoing. Johnny’s gunner gave him a burst and I saw pieces fly from the tail of the Fokker. Never the most stable of aeroplanes it began to yaw and pitch. That made it a more difficult target. Sharp gave another burst but the bullets flew over the top of the Fokker as it pitched, alarmingly, towards the ground. It was hard to predict where it would turn next.

  Suddenly it flew in front of Freddy’s aeroplane and his gunner stitched a neat line along the fuselage. The pilot tried to bank and turn away but, as he did so, he brought his aeroplane directly into Sharp’s sights. He emptied the magazine. The tail disintegrated and the aeroplane began to spin towards the ground. The brave pilot could not have survived the impact, the concussion of which threw us into the air.

  I waved us back home. The flight had their first Fokker. I was pleased. They had both followed orders and kept their heads. I doubted that the Hun would try that trick again. However, as we headed home, I was under no illusions: they would come up with something else. They had inventive minds.

  Chapter 8

  Gordy accounted for a second Fokker and the third had limped lamely home. It meant that July and August proved to be quiet months. The Hun appeared to have had enough in our part of the front. Holt and Carrick became well bedded in and gained a great deal of confidence from the success of their one combat and our success as observers.

  In those first two weeks in September we ruled the skies. As we later discovered that was not necessarily true across the whole of the Western Front but for us, in our sector, it was. The Germans just used anti aircraft fire to discourage us as we observed for the artillery and bombed the roads leading to the front. Now that we were freed from the shackles of Major Hamilton-Grant’s orders we could fly to our target at a higher altitude and give mutual support. We did suffer damage; the German gunners became more accurate. We did not, however, lose any aeroplanes and that was important.

  During the last week in August I was summoned to the adjutant’s office. The Colonel, Major Leach and Captain Marshall were all there. “We have just had the letter back from the War Office, Lieutenant Harsker. I am afraid that they have turned down your V.C. I am sorry. I think it was that unfortunate court martial which coloured their judgement.”

  I shook my head. “You can’t miss what you never had and besides I think the ones who receive that honour are far braver than I was.”

  The Colonel shook his head, “Your modesty does you great credit sir. However what is in my remit is to promote deserving officers. Congratulations, Captain Harsker.”

  I was stunned. The Major and Captain Marshall shook my hand and said, “Well done.”

  “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You say nothing.” Captain Marshall handed me the extra pip. We had all gained our second pip when we had become Flight Commanders but this was something entirely different.

  I left the tent, stunned. Gordy and Ted were just leaving the officers’ mess and, seeing my face, assumed it was bad news.

  “What’s up Bill?”

  “Bad news?”

  I forced a smile, “No, just the opposite. I have been promoted to captain.”

  There was a second while they took the news in and then they snapped a salute, “Sir, yes sir!”

  “Now don’t you two start.”

  They laughed, “No, Bill, we are ple
ased for you and when you get that V.C…”

  “No, Gordy, they turned me down. The court martial.”

  “That bastard, Hamilton-Grant. Even though he has gone he is still messing things up for us. Well never mind. We’ll have to celebrate. The next pass we get we’ll take a car into Boulogne and have a jolly boys’ outing.”

  I brightened. That would be an excellent idea. With no activity on our front the colonel gave permission for the three of us to have a two day pass. Major Leach was happy to be left with all the younger pilots; he had heard of our idea for a defensive circle and was keen to practise the manoeuvre while the front was so quiet. We borrowed the colonel’s car, a Lanchester, which purred along beautifully. I was given the honour of driving, of course. Sergeant Sharp was philosophical about having to remain behind. “Well sir. I thought that I could try to make the front a little more bullet proof. It feels awfully exposed up there.”

  I did not envy him his task. He had to use a lightweight material which would stop, or slow down a bullet. Unless he had an alchemy set I did not think he would succeed. I was just happy that he was thinking about improving our machine. Up in the air it was the only thing between us and certain death.

  As we boodled along the quiet roads of northern France it was hard to imagine that there was a war on. While Belgium and the Franco German border was a muddy morass of trenches barbed wire and machine guns, here, in the Pas de Calais, all was peace and calm. I gestured with my arm. “It is hard to believe that just less than a year ago I was riding across this very land with the Lancashire Yeomanry.”

  “You had a real war before you ever got in the air. Do you miss those days?”

  “I miss the fact that when you went into a fight your comrades were so close you could speak to them but I do not miss the slaughter. The back of a horse is no place to be when someone is machine gunning you.”

  There was silence until Gordy asked, “Do you think we can win this war?”

  “And I thought I was the pessimist. Of course we can win this war.”

  “No Ted, you miss my point. I mean can anyone win this war? No matter how good we are in the air, and, let’s face it, we have the Germans beaten in the air at the moment; the war is stuck in the trenches. We have seen the infantry trying to walk their way across the mud. All you need is a few dozen machine guns and no infantry in the world can cross No-Man’s Land. That means German or British or French. We could be here for years.”

  I laughed, “Ted is right you have switched bodies over night. I have to believe that we will win. Our cause is right. It was the Germans and the Austrians who started this war. They were the ones who invaded Belgium. The Belgian army was a joke. They couldn’t have withstood an attack by a Yeomanry battalion let alone regulars. The Germans saw it as an easy way to get into France by the back door. Our mistake was not flanking them early in the war and now we are stuck here. But we will win. We have an Empire. There are Australian and Canadian squadrons ready to fight. India is sending thousands of men. The problem is the Germans look to be making it a war of attrition and we will win but only because we are the last man standing. I fear we will go home to a land without those lads we grew up with.”

  Gordy had deflated us like a barrage balloon punctured by.303. However when we saw the sea ahead we brightened. Our French was not perfect but it mattered not a jot. There were so many English troops passing through that most people spoke English or at least understood us. We acquired rooms at a pleasant hotel up in the town. It afforded a view of the castle and the port. It suited us. We had money to burn and did not question the prices.

  Our mood really improved when we walked along the front and saw the sea lapping on the beach. We could just make out the coast of England. It was our home. It was where our families lived. We were stopping the Germans from hurting our homes and destroying the land as had been done in Belgium. That was good enough. It was a reminder of why we were fighting.

  The brisk stroll down the beach gave us an appetite and we found a bar with a couple of tables outside. This was something we would never have done in England but, here, it seemed appropriate somehow. We ordered beer and moules frites. It was as near to fish and chips as we could get. The steaming mountain of mussels seemed daunting at first but we made short work of them. Mopping up the garlicky juices with the baguette made us think that we were miles away from any war. Another two icy beers later and we were relaxed. We could have been three gents on holiday before the war. As I sipped the beer I had no idea how the owner kept it so cold. I suspected a deep dark cellar.

  “You know lads,” Ted leaned back as he smoked his cigarette, “the war has done one thing for us. It has broadened our horizons. I mean if the war hadn’t come along would we be here; in France drinking beer and eating moules frites?”

  I tapped my pipe out and began to clean it, “You are right. I would have made Blackpool for a couple of days if I was lucky. The rest of the time I would have been on the estate.”

  “Can we go back to that?”

  Gordy had taken me aback. None of us had thought beyond the war. Could I go back to saying yes sir no sir three bags full sir? I was used to giving orders. I loved horses but I could not do what my dad did. What the hell could I do? What would any of us do? It made me think about the future for the first time in a long time.

  Just then we heard the noise of soldiers coming down the street. I glanced over my shoulder and saw that there were about ten young men strolling and playing around as they promenaded. They were being loud and the officer in me frowned. Then I turned back to my beer and my pipe. I was in grave danger of becoming Major Hamilton-Grant.

  I heard a voice as they closed with us. “Watch out lads some officers ahead.”

  “I don’t give a bugger! I am on leave and I don’t have to yes sir to them.”

  He was wrong of course; in the British Army you could dress a donkey in a uniform and if it was of higher rank then you saluted it. More importantly I recognised the voice. I stood and turned as they came near our table.

  “Attention!”

  They were all well trained and they snapped smartly to attention. I saw the bemused look on the faces of Ted and Gordy. I winked. I turned and glared, “Who is the one with the mouth?”

  They all looked at one young private who was trying to hide beneath the peak of his cap. His head came up slowly, “Me sir I… Bill!”

  My brother Bert threw his arms around me to the astonishment of his fellows. I smiled, “At ease lads I am, Bert’s brother. I was just having fun with you.”

  The relief on their faces was palpable. They seemed to see our uniforms for the first time. One of them said, “You are pilots?”

  Even as I was nodding another said, “You are the one who shot down all those German planes. You are a hero!”

  I sat down and laughed, “I don’t think so. Would you lads care to join us?” I said that as the owner had come out to see what the fuss was all about.

  Bert said, “There don’t look to be enough chairs Bill.”

  I turned to the owner. “More tables and chairs and beer for the boys.“ I held out the money.

  He smiled and took the notes, “Of course sir.”

  Bert took a chair from a nearby table and sat down. “This is my little brother Bert of the Royal Engineers and this is Gordy and Ted, two of the officers from my squadron.”

  He suddenly saw my extra pip. “You have been promoted! Well done, our Bill.” I saw that the hero worship was still there and it explained the comments of his comrades.

  Gordy asked, “Where are you stationed, Bert?”

  Bert pointed north, “We are in a holding camp north of here, sir. We go up the line tomorrow.”

  “It’s Gordy, son. You are our mate’s little brother. Where are you off to then?”

  He looked around furtively, “We aren’t supposed to say.”

  Ted laughed, “I bet if I asked the owner here he would know.”

  Just then the owner came out wit
h the foaming beers. “Where are these lads off to tomorrow then?”

  He grinned, “Brebis, not far from Lens and Loos!”

  Bert looked dumfounded. “There, I told you.”

  Bert grinned and began drinking his beer. “Go steady with that little brother.”

  Gordy said, “If he is old enough to fight he is old enough to drink.”

  “Oh we don’t fight. We dig holes and we tunnel.”

  It was my turn to be dumfounded. “I thought you were a driver or a mechanic?”

  He shrugged as he took out a cigarette, “So did I but they decided I was small enough to tunnel and I would still be able to drive the lorry with the equipment.”

  I looked at my little brother who had grown up overnight. He was in the army, smoking and drinking yet, to me, he was still the little lad who followed me around at home. He had a more confident look about him and was assured. His mates all shouted cheers when their beers were brought and Bert acknowledged it as though he had paid.

  Gordy and Ted allowed the two of us to fill each other in on our lives since we had joined up. Inevitably we spoke of home. During one of the silences I heard Gordy telling Ted of his plans for him and Mary once the war had ended. Now I understood his pessimism. He wanted a life with Mary so badly that it had changed his outlook on life. I hoped it would not cloud his judgement once we were up in the air. Aerial combat was not a forgiving environment.

  One of Bert’s mates shouted, “Eh up, Bert we best be getting back. T’sargeant major’ll have our bollocks if we are late.”

  Bert stood and shook my hand. “I’m right glad to have seen you, our Bill. And I am proud of you too.” He shook his head, “A captain no less.”

  His mate who had chivvied them to return said, “Aye, you’re alright for officers.”