From Arctic Snow to Desert Sand (British Ace Book 6)

by Griff Hosker

  Hobson banked left and began to climb to take us to five hundred feet again. As he did so I found myself losing my balance. Luckily, we now had safety clips to hold us in. I would not be the daring young man on the flying trapeze this time! I fired at the men on the wall. I finally had my eye in and the bullets traced a line along the parapet. The gun clicked empty and I cursed myself for having wasted so many bullets. I changed the magazine but, by then we were past the fort. I could, however, see the damage we had caused. The gate was no longer there. The tower with the gun remained but the other towers were rubble. Men still stood on the walls and we would have to return to them.

  As I cocked the gun, Hobson shouted, “Second bombing run.”

  I was ready for the pull this time as we dived at the smaller fort. Bullets tore holes in the wings as we dived. The Dervishes were learning. “Bombs gone!”

  I had the Lewis pointing to starboard as we pulled up. This time there were no targets, at least none left alive. Hobson had placed his bombs in the perfect place and the fort was demolished. It meant that the other DH 9as could switch targets. I saw them peel off to attack the last fort. Below us the Rifles and dismounted troopers were making their way up the slope.

  “Hobson, head back to the tower! Go in at a hundred feet.”

  “Sir!”

  I took out two Mills bombs. The artillery piece was still firing and, although ancient, its shells could still hurt infantry. I knew that I would have to be fast. It was an illusion but we seemed to be on a collision course with the tower. I took the pins from the grenades and held them tightly. This was where the safety clips would be a life saver. They were the only things holding me in. The tower would be on our starboard side. I heard Hobson’s guns as they sprayed the emplacement. I dropped my grenades a heartbeat apart as we approached. Our movement through the air would naturally arc them and they would explode above the gunners. Hobson’s guns had already done much and my grenades cleared the firing platform. I stood and readied the Lewis. I sought targets.

  I watched as the last of the forts was demolished by the rest of our flight. Hobson took us in a lazy circle so that I could see the forts. The infantry was already swarming over the first forts. Jack’s flight were machine gunning Dervishes fleeing on camels. I scanned the ground below but could see no immediate danger for the troops swarming up the sides. If the machine guns and artillery had not been destroyed then they would have faced canister at short range. It would have been a massacre. I saw why it had taken sixteen years to defeat Sayyid Mohammed Abdullah Hassan.

  Hobson shouted, “Fuel is getting low sir.”

  “Then head on home, Lieutenant. Well done.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  As we flew over the reserves I saw Sanderson as he landed his ambulance. We had taken casualties. Henry’s idea had been a splendid one. We had saved lives. I had extolled it in my reports. Hopefully someone at the ministry would take the time to read them and put two and two together.

  We were not the first to land. Already the riggers and mechanics were checking for damage on the kites which had already landed. Sergeant Major Robson was rearming and refuelling them in case we needed to go back. I climbed out and when Hobson joined me I shook him by the hand, “Well done, Eric. That was textbook flying. You will go far.”

  “Thank you, sir. Once I just thought of you as a gunner then it was easy.”

  Leaving him to check it over I wandered over to the Sergeant Major, “Don’t bother rearming and refuelling. We won’t need to go back. Taleh is ours.”

  “Then it is over, sir? We are finished?”

  “Pretty much. It is a case of crossing the T’s and dotting the I’s. When the Mullah is brought here I will feel happier.”

  I stayed with the Sergeant Major and, with my pipe going, watched the squadron as they landed. Sanderson came back and, after being refuelled took off straight away.

  Captain Connor came from the admin tent. “Wing Commander, Taleh and the other forts are taken.”

  “Excellent!”

  “But Sayyid Mohammed Abdullah Hassan has escaped with four others. The Camel Corps tried to stop them but a fanatical group of Dervishes stopped them. They all died but they ensured their leader got away. They are headed for the Ogaden.”

  Jones and Wintersgill had been the first to land and their kites were refuelled and rearmed. “Wintersgill and Jones. Get up and head for the Ogaden. See if you can see five riders heading into the wasteland. Shoot them.”

  “Yes sir.” Both were eager young pilots and they raced back to their aeroplanes.

  Jack and Ted joined me. Ted saw the disappointment on my face, “It is still a great victory, sir. You can’t be everywhere at once.”

  “It should have been over today.” I shook my head. I was dwelling on the negatives. “Jack, your squadron performed perfectly today. I shall say so in my report. You can be proud of them.”

  “The thing is, sir, we have learned things this past month that no one has done before. I can see this being the future. With us as mobile artillery and ground troops ready to mop up then we can deal with any uprisings like this.”

  “I don’t want to pour cold water on you, Jack for you are right, but there will come a time when we have to do this against people who are prepared. They will have weapons which can bring down aeroplanes and, perhaps, have aeroplanes of their own. We first used aeroplanes in war six years ago. They were pushers that flew at sixty miles an hour. Look how far we have come now. What will it be like in ten years’ time?”

  While I waited for Jones and Wintersgill to return from their four-hour flight I went to my tent and wrote my report. When it was finished, I used Swanston and Williams’ patented shower. I felt cleaner. The two aeroplanes landed. Their expressions told me all.

  “Sorry sir. We spotted them. They had covered a lot of desert. They disappeared into the warren of ravines and rocks. We fired at them and dropped grenades but I don’t think we got them. We might have but…”

  “No, Lieutenant, do not apologise and do not make something up which is not true just to placate me. You did not let them escape in the first place. It is almost victory. Just not quite. However, it is enough of a victory to allow us to celebrate tonight! There will be no flying tomorrow!”

  The party was a huge success. We had no more losses and the enemy was vanquished. Ted, Jack and I did not overindulge. I felt like a parent at his son’s twenty first birthday. There would be thick heads the next day.

  I was up early. I had much to do. Colonel Farquhar would remain in the field with the mobile Camel Corps and Colonel Pritchard would bring the prisoners back. When we heard that they were just two hours out I sent Williams and Swanston in the Crossley to pick up the resident, Captain Mainwaring, and Peter Hardwicke. They were all essential to my plan to end this conflict. My reports had been radioed back and I had informed the powers that be of my decision to return to Egypt. That had been confirmed by Colonel Fisher for the insurgents were causing even more trouble in Cairo. Relief pilots were on their way from Malta to take over the Nanaks.

  When the resident arrived, he was like a child at Christmas. The Captain and Peter Hardwicke stood to the side. Hardwicke held a bound package in his hands.

  The resident pointed to my Dolphin, “Do you think I could have a look around the aeroplanes, Wing Commander?”

  “Of course.” I showed him the single seater first.

  “What a splendid aeroplane. How does it compare with the Camel?”

  “Faster and better armed. It has a higher ceiling.”

  He laughed, “But you prefer the Camel.”

  “Of course. Every pilot loves the Camel.”

  His eyes lit up when he saw the DH 9a. “It has a second seat?”

  I could see what he was thinking. “Would you like a flight, sir? We have time.”

  “Do you think I could?”

  Over his shoulder, I saw Peter Hardwicke nod vigorously. The man did not have long to live. “Of course. Ca
ptain Conner get a flying coat, goggles and helmet for the resident. Sergeant Major Robson, I shall take M for Mother.”

  “Sir, she is all ready to go; armed and fuelled.”

  “This is tremendously exciting, Wing Commander.”

  Williams hurried over with the ladder to help him aboard. Captain Connor helped to dress St. John Browne. He said quietly, “Now if you ask him nicely I am sure the Wing Commander will perform some loops for you!”

  “Really?”

  “Captain Connor!”

  “Sorry sir.”

  Once he was dressed my men helped him into the cockpit and Williams clipped him in. I said, “When the engine is going it is a little loud. You will have to shout.”

  “I understand!”

  I started the engine and it roared into life. We now had a windsock and soon I was roaring down the runway. I pulled back on the stick and zoomed through the gap. I decided to take a course over the column which was heading back. I flew south first to afford the resident a view of the desert and then swung back to fly over the column. I saw it two miles away snaking along the road. The road followed the contours of a long dried up valley. I was just about to say something to the resident to direct his view when I saw the flash of light ahead me of. It was not the column. I dropped the nose. I had intended flying at a thousand feet. Now I dropped to six hundred, just a hundred feet above the ridges and escarpments. The reason for the flash became apparent. There were Dervishes. There were not many of them but they had a machine gun. I took all of that in as I roared towards them. I had learned to make snap decisions. It was exactly what I had told Hobson. I cocked the Vickers.

  “Hang on, sir, we are going to attack some Dervishes.”

  I heard a squawk which I took to be his acknowledgement. The column was just five hundred yards from the ambush. Colonel Pritchard was in his open topped Crossley. There would be no protection from the machine gun. The Dervishes turned when they heard my aeroplane and hurriedly tried to bring the machine gun to bear. That action would save the Colonel but it might put us in jeopardy. I gave a burst at a thousand yards. The range was too far away to be accurate but it told the column that there was danger. I saw the six Dervish warriors as they aligned the machine gun. I was travelling quickly towards them. I fired a long burst with the right-hand Vickers. Stones flew up before them and two fell clutching wounds. I saw flames spurt from the barrel of the machine gun as I used the left-hand Vickers. I dropped the nose which threw their aim off and, as my nose came up, the bullets tore into them. I pulled back on the stick and banked to starboard. They were dead and soldiers were racing up the slope to see what had happened.

  I shouted, “Are you all right, sir?”

  There was silence. Had the bullets they fired hit us? I had not felt them but the judder of my own guns would disguise the sound. “Mr. St. John Browne?”

  There was a long silence then I heard, “Wonderful Wing Commander, simply wonderful!”

  I would not risk him any longer and I banked to port. I saw the colonel standing in his Crossley and waving. His men were doing the same. In my mirror, I saw that his men had reached the Dervishes and were holding up the machine gun.

  The action had taken place so close to the field that I knew they would have heard and wondered what I was doing firing with the resident aboard. When I landed, Williams was ready with the ladder. Sergeant Major Robson said, as the wheels were chocked, “We heard firing sir. Were you testing the guns?”

  “No, Sergeant Major Robson, the Dervish had set up a machine gun to ambush the column. They are dead.” I climbed out of the cockpit and slid down the lower wing. The resident was just being helped to the ground, “Sorry about that, Mr. St. John Browne.”

  He shook me by the hand, his thin fingers feeling like claws, “Do not apologise, Wing Commander. You have fulfilled one of my dreams. I have been in action for His Majesty! It was the most exhilarating experience of my life. You, Wing Commander, are a jinni! You have granted me my most fervent wish.”

  Captain Connor had a wry look on his face, “Come along, sir, let us get you out of those clothes and into a whisky!”

  Captain Mainwaring said, “What would have happened if anything had happened to him?”

  “I think it would have been the end of my career but let us not dwell on that.” I turned to Sergeant Major Hale, “The column will be here shortly. I would like to get this over with and then the resident can return to his quarters. Have the prisoners brought and place them between the two columns of aeroplanes.”

  The prisoners we had already incarcerated were fetched from their pen. Their hands and feet were bound and they shuffled rather than walked. They were made to kneel on the runway. There were thirty of them. The ones with wounds had had them tended to. We had parked the aeroplanes on either side of the runaway and they were brought there so that they could see the monsters of the air. They looked fearfully at the DH 9as as though they were some kind of mythcia1 beast. The convoy arrived. Captain Connor brought the resident and his secretary back. The resident had more colour in his cheeks than I remembered.

  Colonel Pritchard knew what we had planned and his officers and sergeants took charge of the prisoners as they were brought from the lorries. Colonel Pritchard came up to me and shook my hand, “I want to thank your pilot and his gunner. You saved us back there. That gun would have had us dead to rights.”

  I smiled, “Actually, colonel, I was the pilot and the resident was the gunner.”

  His face was a picture and St. John Browne had a look on his face which showed his delight too.

  “Captain Connor!”

  “Sir.”

  I walked with the colonel, the resident, Captain Connor and Peter Hardwick towards the prisoners. There were now almost fifty of them. Captain Mainwaring stood at the entrance to the admin tent. The resident spoke. We had no idea if the Dervishes understood his words. It did not really matter as they would be translated by Captain Connor later.

  “All of you have broken the peace of Somaliland. You have followed this false leader, Sayyid Mohammed Abdullah Hassan. You have killed British citizens and the soldiers who guard them. For that you could all be executed.”

  Captain Connor translated. In their faces, I saw resignation. They all expected to die. It was the way of their people. Colonel Farquhar had told me of finding decapitated tribesmen who had fallen foul of the Mullah.

  “The Emperor who rules this land is a just man. He is a Christian and he would like you to be forgiven.”

  Some of the older men looked up, hope in their faces, as Ted translated.

  Waving Hardwicke forward he continued, “This is the Quran. It is your holiest of books. Ours is the Bible. When we swear on the Bible then it is binding. I would have you all swear on the Quran that you will never again take up arms against the Emperor or his warriors.”

  This time they looked at each other.

  Captain Connor translated and then added, “Well, who will swear? If you swear then you can go free.”

  A few of the older ones came up and, one by one swore. There remained a hard core of, perhaps twelve. They were all young warriors; Jihadists. We had thought this might happen and I knew what Ted would be saying. Captain Connor spoke as he pointed to the aeroplanes. “These birds of death can find you wherever you are. They can see you wherever you are. They will hunt down Sayyid Mohammed Abdullah Hassan and he will be brought to justice. However, we have another weapon we have yet to use. We will now show you the power the Emperor has at his command.”

  He turned and dropped his hand. Captain Mainwaring nodded and went into the tent. After a few moments, the air was filled with the sound of Ark Royal’s four twelve pounder quick firing guns sending blank after blank into the air. It seemed to last forever although each gun only fired ten shells. It had the desired effect. The Dervish ran to swear on the Quran.

  When they had left the field, we turned to go back to the tent we used as a mess tent. Jack and Sergeant Major Hale had org
anised drinks. Captain Mainwaring said, “Well that appeared to work. How did you come up with the plan?

  “It was the resident really. He knows the people. They are religious but very superstitious. We knew that they feared the DH 9a but when we concocted the plan we realised that your ship had never opened fire. The fact that they could not see her made it even more terrifying.”

  The resident nodded, “The Wing Commander is being modest. I have learned that about him. This was all his idea. I could never have conceived of such a plan. However, we have all proved to be a good team but I fear that its days are at an end. You are to return to Egypt?”

  “I am afraid so, sir. We begin loading tomorrow. There is no hurry. It will take a couple of days. Then back to Egypt.”

  “And you get to go home and see your son and your new child.” I nodded. “You cannot know how much I envy you and your future but you have given me, today, something I can relish and enjoy for the rest of my life. I flew in an aeroplane and I helped defeat the Dervishes. This has been a great day and I would like to thank you all for it.”

  The Colonel said, “We will be here a little longer but we too will be heading back to East Africa. I can say, however, that I was proud to serve in Z Force under you, Wing Commander. It has been an experience to cherish.”