Lou, Smashing paint job! Odin’s sons shall fight, may the best man win! ...Though seeing how you handled the Pup above Netheravon I would put my money on Young Sebastian...

Carrick, glad the Rum’s flowing!

Harry, Sebastian is yet to put a name to the pretty nurse that haunts his sleep.
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" ...Even the Kommandant had come a nasty cropper crashing our side of the lines"

Feldwebel Sebastian von Toombs GMVK, EK1, EK2
Royal Prussian Jagdstaffel 18
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders
17 victories
9th March 1917

I shook hands in farewell with my new friend as we parted in Berlin. I am truly honoured to serve alongside such brave and determined men like Gunther Ganz. The evening continued to haunt me as I continued my journey on to Kitty. My poor Kitty put up with me heroically and did her best to cheer me up but I was a hard nut to crack. She is so cheerful and kind, but when I looked at her all I could see was the pretty young nurse’s lifeless face. All I could smell was the smoke fumes and sweet acrid smell of burning flesh. All I could hear was the angry words of the British pilot, “That’s for the Lusitania you blasted Hun!”

I has lost my treasured Odyssey and my bag in the bombing raid on the train. A small loss compared to a far more significant loss, something much deeper, personal and vital. I had lost my peace. I had lost joy. A darkness had stolen into my heart unbidden, had set up home and was refusing to leave despite Kitty’s best efforts.

We parted at the station as I began my journey back to Flanders. We held hands and kissed but still my mind returned to that devastating scene, turning it over and over like a hound with a bone. The journey was an eternal 26 hours long, and at no point did I dare sleep, afraid of the images that would flash through my mindseye and on which I didn’t want to dwell. I hitched a ride back to Halluin on a transport headed to Menen. I was back in my hut by 21:30 The lights of the Mess lit the airfield, boys were drinking and playing in the smokey refuge, I didn’t have the heart to join them. I collapsed into bed falling into an exhausted, dreamless, oblivion.

I was awoken by up a smiling and fresh faced Paul at 6:55. “Come on Young Hare, the Kommandant wants us all up in the air by 8!”

Silently, I washed, dressed, grabbed some cold meats and coffee. Walking to my waiting and warmed up Albatros, I nodded at Hans and took my place in the line. I’d been asked many times if my leave had been good. I nodded without giving comment to all enquires and thankfully, I was left mostly alone to my own thoughts.

The Jasta had just taken off from Halluin when we were surprised again by a formation of Sopwith Triplanes. We each entered individual dogfights. After five minutes of dodging, flying and fleeing in which I took some damage I engaged a Tripehound over our airfield at Halluin at a height of approx 500 meters. I chased him off towards the lines, but my Albatros was unable to catch him, I think due in part to my damage.
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I could not see any of my Jasta-mates around and assumed they were continuing their patrol or had landed. I flew toward our base at Halluin, hoping to see some signs of life. Flying towards the airfield I spotted a Tripe flying low. It was the Sopwith Triplane that evaded me last week. ‘MAUD’. I was not going to let him escape today. I gave chase and entered a rather half hearted (on his part) dogfight I fired 300 rounds into the Sopwith Triplane's fuselage, wings and cockpit. All at short range. Its starboard wings were destroyed mid air and it span out of control in to a field 500 meters North of the Halluin airfield. It was completely destroyed. Although my flight were not nearby the flak gunners from Halluin would have seen the whole fight. It should also have been witnessed by the ground crew at Halluin airfield.



There were still other Tripes around and I engaged two more single handedly. I damaged at least one of them but was unable to keep up with either of them as they retreated west due to my damaged plane and I was unwilling to chase them too far over the lines. I landed at Halluin hoping to find my Jasta safe and sound. Sadly, both Kettes had all been shot down by the Tripes. Six Albatros destroyed!
Even the Kommandant had come a nasty cropper crashing our side of the lines. Worse, we lost two pilots today, both promising lads, Helmut and Heinrich. Our worse single day losses as a Jasta. having only lost two others since the Jasta was founded at the end of last year. The Kommandant wears today's loses like a lead overcoat. My heart grieves today for all who are lost in this war.

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All the ground crew saw my Dogfight over Halluin with MAUD and it has been confirmed. The Triplane was believed to have been flown by the RFC's Charles Dawson Booker.

To Be continued ...

Last edited by SebToombs; 03/09/20 06:30 PM.