by Griff Hosker
The bullet, although spent, had hit my shin and made a small tear in my skin. If my youthful days of football were anything to go by it would be stiff in the morning. Holt and Carrick were like my shadows and they waited for me.
“The lorry is here sir with the spares.”
“Good.” I was relieved. We had been lucky and the worst damage had been to the cockpit but I knew that worse awaited us on the morrow. I limped back to my new quarters.
“Tomorrow, we will not have it so easy.”
They both looked at me in surprise. “But sir, we shot down three Fokkers.”
“They only sent three aeroplanes because they knew they had the beating of the French. Why waste fuel, ammunition and wear and tear on precious aeroplanes if you do not need to?” The looks on their faces told me that they had not thought it through. “I expect at least nine aeroplanes tomorrow, maybe more. You will be on your own I think. We can use our arrow formation to blast through their line but if we are to protect their spotters then we will have to split up.”
“You make it sound as though we might lose, sir.”
I laughed; we had just reached the barrack’s door. “That is precisely what I am saying. We can fire at two aeroplanes at once. We did that today but we cannot fire at three. Think on that. You will both have to use everything you have learned and more just to survive.” They looked depressed. “We have already done what was asked of us. They stopped the German advance today and their new fighters are one day closer. If we buy them more time tomorrow then they halt the attack again and the fighters are another day closer. We are fighting in inches gentlemen. Do not get carried away.”
My words might as well have been spoken in Urdu for the welcome we received in the mess would have turned anyone’s head. We were feted, we were honoured and we were cheered. We had question after question hurled at us. The colonel even sat next to me so that he could translate the questions for me. They had found Champagne from somewhere and it was all I could do to prevent them bathing me in the stuff. When most of the officers became too inebriated to pester me any more I sat, with the colonel smoking; he, his cigar and me my pipe.
“You are a most interesting character, Englishman. You rise from a gunner and a sergeant to an officer and a pilot. You have such coolness under fire and yet you are so young. How did you learn what to do when you fight in the air?”
I scraped out the burnt ash and relit my pipe. “I began as a horseman. I was in the cavalry. I loved horses and I found that I could ride without thinking. I learned to just react. I watched what was happening around me and I just did what I felt was right. It was the same when I learned how to fly. When I was a gunner the pilot tried to loop.”
The colonel’s cigar almost dropped from his mouth. “In that aeroplane?” I nodded. “Why are you not dead?”
I laughed, “I hung on. The point is when I became a pilot I approached it as I had when I was a horseman. What would happen if I did one thing as opposed to another? I also learned to have as many weapons as I could.” I laughed, “One of my sergeants destroyed a Fokker with a hand grenade.”
The colonel laughed so loudly that some of the drunks turned around briefly to stare at him. “Really?”
“Really. I have a rifle and a Luger in the cockpit. If I run out of bullets I shoot those. If they fail I will throw the damned things at the Germans.”
“You do not give in.” I nodded. “A hundred years ago we had an Emperor called Napoleon who seems to me to be much like this German Emperor. He came up against men like you; the Redcoats, your famous Foot Guards. They should have known they were beaten but no one told them and they won. You are just such a man but…”
“But tomorrow they will send more Fokkers and we will be outnumbered. In all likelihood we will be shot down and die.”
He laughed and threw away the stub of his cigar. “Good, you are a thinker too and you do not believe you are immortal. I do not think that you will die tomorrow but I agree. They will, as you English say, throw the kitchen sink at you.”
“And you too. However, colonel, we will buy you time to get your guns on target. That I promise you.”
“And I believe you. Thank you, my friend.”
When I awoke the next day my leg was indeed stiff. Although bandaged I could see the bruising higher up the shin. The leg, however, appeared to function satisfactorily. It was just painful and I limped towards the airfield after a breakfast of bread, butter, jam and coffee.
Sergeant Sharp and the mechanics led by Sergeant Johnson had worked wonders. The nose was repaired with more canvas and the bullet proofing cans and cardboard were back in place. “I’ll tell you what sir. These Froggies know how to party. They helped us fix up the bus and then they opened bottle after bottle of all sorts of stuff.”
I gave him a sharp look, “Are you fit to fly?”
“Of course sir, me and the lads took it steady. We know we are going to get a pasting today. There’s no point in giving the Hun a helping hand is there?”
“Good man. Right, have we plenty of magazines?”
“Yes sir and I even have a couple of Mills bombs. We call it the Lumpy Secret Weapon.”
I noticed the colonel loading a rifle into his cockpit. He saw me looking and shrugged. I waved. He was a fine officer and I hoped he would survive the firestorm we were about to endure. We took off and I climbed higher than I had the previous day. I assumed that they had spotters who would have reported our height and our position. I needed the Fokkers to waste fuel climbing to reach us. I had told my wingmen of my new plan. When we had attacked them we would climb and go into line astern. By spiralling up we would be able to allow our gunners to fire at the climbing Fokkers; there would always be one gunner with a shot. It would be like a climbing version of the Gay Gordons. With luck they would all try to get us and leave the spotters alone. It wasn’t much of a plan but it was the best I could come up with.
The next day the colonel had four spotter aeroplanes ready to take off. He was as realistic about the morning as I was. The Germans knew the time we would come. The artillery was predictable. They would need to fire as soon as the German infantry moved. This time the Fokkers would be waiting.
I was wrong; there were just eight aeroplanes waiting for us. Perhaps the others had some mechanical trouble. It happened. There were three pairs of eyes watching over my bus and that was why we had been lucky with mercifully few mechanical defects.
I had taken us even higher for I was gambling. I thought that the Germans would want to knock us out of the sky and pay for the destruction of their comrades. They would be able to deal with the spotters at their leisure. I wanted to tempt them high into the sky.
The gamble almost paid off. Six of them came in two lines of three, eager to battle us. The other two went after the spotters. The colonel, however, had listened to our description of the turn we had developed and used his own. As soon as he saw the Germans his aeroplanes began to circle. They could still spot but there would be a machine gun facing the enemy at all times. They were still sitting ducks but at least they could bite back.
“Here we go Charlie! I’ll hold off firing my Lewis until you need to reload.”
“Righto sir.”
The two lines looked similar to the way we had flown up near Loos and I knew the efficacy of the formation. As soon as the first wave had passed I would be subject to attack from the second wave. Holt and Carrick were further away from me this time as we all needed space to manoeuvre. Importantly our guns could still cover each other for the initial attack.
The first flight opened fire at the same time as we did. The aim was slightly off from the German and they struck the side of the cockpit. Remembering the spent bullet I winced as each 9mm hit home. Sergeant Sharp also managed to damage the wing of the first Fokker. I realised he was not going over me. He dived below. In an instant I worked out that he intended to do the Immelmann Turn but come up behind me on my blind spot. They had thought this through.
; “Charlie, hang on, I am going to loop.”
The Gunbus was not the best aeroplane to perform the loop but I had to avoid being the meat in the sandwich. A Fokker from below and one from head on would mean certain death. The loop appeared to be my only option. I gave it all the power we had and pulled back hard on the stick. I had to avoid stalling and it was nerve wracking not seeing the other aeroplanes.
Bullets struck our tail as we began to return to earth; the second Fokker had adjusted to our new position. As I came around I saw that our slower turn had brought us on to the tail of the first Fokker. There was a danger we might collide. Although that would rid the air of one Fokker we would lose a third of our firepower. I just reacted and fired a full magazine. The tail of the Fokker fell off as my bullets cut the fuselage in two. It plunged vertically to the ground. The second Fokker was almost on us and Sharp opened fire, using the last of his magazine. He hit the engine and the aeroplane peeled off and limped east. Had we had a bullet between us we could have killed him there and then. I scanned the skies for the others. Below us I heard the chatter of machine guns. The four Frenchmen were still battling away. I saw, in the distance, my two companions battling it out with the remaining three Fokkers. The colonel was closer.
I saw that Sharp had reloaded and I knew that when I levelled out I might have the chance to do the same. “Just make them shift Charlie!”
We were spinning down to the two Germans and he would only have a split second to fire. I cocked my Lewis in case I had the chance. The two Germans were darting towards the circling spotters in tandem. They were firing short bursts and then diving beneath them to try to get to their blind spot. It was brave flying. They had damaged one of the spotters but the pilot gamely carried on supporting his companions. I dived outside the circle. Sharp’s first burst took them by surprise and he caught the rear fuselage of one of them. It would take an extremely lucky shot to sever the cables operating the rudder but it served to make the Fokkers climb to engage us. As they flew up the French gunners emptied their magazines into the two of them. I banked after my dive and brought the Gunbus up to fire once more. As my nose came around I caught a glimpse of a black cross and I fired a short burst. A large hole appeared in the fuselage. The combination of Sharp, the French gunners and me had damaged the Fokker. They headed east.
“Charlie, I am going after them.”
It was not foolhardy nor was it brave; it was logical. If these two could be further damaged then they would not be able to fly the following day and I would have bought us another day.
“Righto sir. I have put the last magazine in.”
“I have one left.” I reached down and grabbed it. I dropped it into Sharp’s cockpit. I heard it clatter to the floor.
“Thank you, sir. I thought I was going to have to use the grenade.”
“You still might. Keep it handy.”
We now attracted ground fire but we were slowly gaining on the Fokkers. Sharp emptied one magazine at the undamaged Fokker. While he reloaded I fired a short burst too. He began waggling his wings to throw me off. It did not. I fired another burst and saw that I had struck his undercarriage. Sharp reloaded and when he fired and the German tried to climb Charlie’s bullets struck his undercarriage and I watched it tumble to the ground. There were two more aeroplanes that would not fly tomorrow.
“Let’s go home Charlie.”
As I banked I heard him say, “A good job too I am out of ammo.”
I saw the gunners below firing up at us. “Fancy laying your two eggs on those Germans below?”
“What a good idea sir.”
I watched him pull the pin on one and drop it to the right of the bus and repeat to the left with the other. I counted to five and then looked over the side. The two bombs exploded in the air. There was a little turbulence but the bombs threw their shrapnel over a large area. The gunfire stopped and I continued my climb.
When I reached the colonel there were just two of the Frenchmen left. I could see no wreckage and I assumed that they had flown home. I looked at the gauge. I could manage another fifteen minutes; no more. I circled but there were no enemy birds. I had chance to look at the effect of the artillery. The French guns had totally pockmarked No-Man’s Land. I could see grey uniformed figures sheltering in the pot holes whilst those who could were crawling back. Another attack had failed.
The colonel stayed a mere five minutes and then he too headed back. As we passed the French trenches I saw the other two Gunbuses. They had both landed in a field. One looked to have had a fire in the engine while the other lay at an ungainly angle. Neither would fly the next day. All four crew waved as I passed and I waggled my wings to show them that they had been seen.
Sergeant Johnson was looking anxiously as we landed. He and the airmen with him raced to the Gunbus. “Where are the young officers, Captain Harsker?”
“They crash landed in a field over there.”
The colonel wandered over. “I saw your comrades. Would you like some help recover them?”
“Yes sir, Sergeant Johnson knows what to do but it will need more than one vehicle.”
“Quite.” The colonel barked out an order and a French sergeant saluted. “The Sergeant will follow you.”
Johnson sped off. “Charlie, just check the damage eh?”
He grinned, “Yes sir.”
I took out my pipe and filled it. The colonel took out one of his cigars and we strolled slowly to the mess. “We showed them today, my English friend. Even with these obsolete machines we held them off. They hit us but they did not destroy us. We were able to do our job despite their efforts.”
“I saw, sir, it was a marvellous effort.”
“But we could not have done it without you. You and your sergeant are fearless. That loop was…” he raised his eyes to the heavens. Then he laughed, “I did enjoy the hand grenades. We might try that too!”
“The main thing is that your guns were able to fire.”
“True but I am sad that you have two damaged aeroplanes.”
“We are good at repairing them. It will be just me in the air tomorrow but they will fly again; believe me. The most important thing is that none of my men were hurt.”
He paused and looked at me. “That is important to you, is it not?”
“It is. I like the Gunbus but it is a machine and can be repaired or replaced but a man, that is different. We should value our men more than we do, sorry, more than our generals do.”
“You do not have a high opinion of generals then?”
“I do not and that includes the German ones. Those German infantry today stood no chance. Yet they were ordered forwards to face your guns, the barbed wire and machine guns. They are measuring gains in men’s blood.”
“And yet you still fight.”
“I am a soldier and I believe in my country and my way of life. But I also have a mind and I use that too.”
“Good! Get some rest this afternoon. Tomorrow it will just be the three of us in the air.”
Chapter 22
I disobeyed the colonel’s order. I washed and changed; ate a little lunch and then joined Sharp with the bus. The holes were soon repaired but Charlie had found an oil pipe which had been nicked. It had not made a hole but it might have broken in the air and that would have been a disaster. We changed it.
“Sir, you have been limping since we got back. Let me finish off here.”
My leg had ached all the way through the flight and was aching now. “You are right, Charlie, but get some rest yourself too.” I noticed my shin, when I changed my uniform, a tendril of blood dripping down; the leg itself was black and blue. It would do no good for me to collapse while flying and so I lay down on the bed to get some rest. I must have been more tired than I had thought for I fell asleep instantly.
It was late afternoon when the three lorries arrived back with the aeroplanes and their crew. The noise of their arrival woke me up. I felt much better although my leg was still stiff. I quickly dressed. Serg
eant Sharp was sitting outside the barracks waiting for me. “Have a good sleep sir?”
“I certainly did.”
We wandered over to Sergeant Johnson. “Mr Holt’s aeroplane will take the most work, sir. The engine is pretty badly damaged. I am not even sure we can repair it. We can use Mr Holt’s undercarriage to repair Lieutenant Carrick’s.”
“Good; when will that be ready?”
“The day after tomorrow?”
“I know you will do your best. They will be mended when they are mended. Carry on.”
Freddy and Johnny were waiting for me. “We managed to get half a Fokker each sir!”
“Well done Johnny.”
Freddy shook his head, “Then one of the damned Fokkers got in Johnny’s blind spot and hit him before I could do anything.”
“You have nothing to reproach yourself about. You both did well. We live to fight another day and the French did not lose any aeroplanes.”
“That was a lovely manoeuvre sir. Did you plan it?”
“You mean before I took off? No. I just knew that the Hun was going to fly under me, do a turn and hit my blind spot.”
Lieutenant Holt nodded, “That’s how he did me.”
“I think, and this is a new bit of advice, that you do not fly straight for more than five seconds when in combat. Otherwise you are a sitting duck.”
“That makes firing more of a lottery.”
“Use short bursts and get close. The last one I got was pure luck. His black cross flashed in front of me and I just fired. I couldn’t miss really.”
We had reached the mess. “You two get changed and we’ll go into dinner.”
“What about our gunners?”
“They can’t do too much work, it is getting dark and Sergeant Johnson has already told me that neither of you will be flying tomorrow. So you see there is nothing for you to do today but tomorrow I want you to get Lieutenant Carrick’s aeroplane ready to fly. Understand?”
“Yes sir.”
There was still much excitement at dinner but slightly less alcohol was consumed. I had just one glass of wine. I would need all of my wits the next day.