homepage Forums Air Combat & Civil Aviation Wings: Over Flanders Fields Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)

Fullofit - Cracking 70. Ser Gut. Oliver better get a mole into the Claims Office up at Wing or he's gonna watch as Hahn goes right on by... Scaring me with those scissors there. Another near miss with that K Camel, thank goodness. Yikes!

Carrick - That sister of Marcel's looks like a fun date. Story arc maybe? Hope the relocation gets sorted quickly.

Led - Willi's got a fine looking new bus. Well done indeed. Good to see you back in the fray. Condolences on the delayed opening of Willi's new account. Blast those claims flunkies.

Lou - I'd like to take credit for the saw story but that was ripped from Orpen's autobiography. Good old Preston, looking after Freddy. Well adjusted child of neglectful parents or is there something darker buried under that cheerful exterior? And what of this Sister? Tantalizing. Love the pic of Birchley House.




À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 35 of many



10 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

Only the 1.00 show today, the aforementioned DOP to Harlebeke aerodrome. Maxwell, Johnson, Wilkinson, Harmon, and Preston-Cobb. Dodds we left at Estrée-Blanche with orders to learn the map by heart. I’d put Strugnell’s test to him.

Reached the lines at 13,000 feet. Over Harlebeke Huns were waiting high above.


Seven Albatri


Red noses! The Baron’s men.


They used their altitude advantage well. We were defensive for much of the fight.

One of the fiercest combats of my time in France, both sides evenly matched for the most part. Every time I latched onto an Albatros another was threatening behind me. I landed a few snapshots and received a few in return. I saw Wilkinson go down to the Death God. I could do nothing to save him. He fell in pieces with a Hun on his tail.

In time the fight spread out with no other conclusive result for either side, just poor Wilkinson.



11 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

3.00 Escort 2 Harry Tates from RFC-21 who would bomb enemy positions of the Menin-Roulers road. After two bombing runs, we saw the RE.8s back to the lines, where a quartet of Pfalz attacked.


I set one afire. Maybery’s burst sent him spinning down out of control.

A Flight accounted for 3 of the 4 Huns but Preston-Cobb was shot down and killed. Jeffs, Wilkinson now Preston-Cobb. In less than I week I’d lost half of A Flight. Preston-Cobb lasted exactly two weeks. He might still be alive if he’d had more time. It’s pure murder sending inexperienced men like him over the lines.

A bad day for 56. Cunningham from B Flight was wounded and made a forced landing near Pont-de-Nieppe. Shot in the back, he was taken to No. 2 Australian CCS.

We sent the Rumpler claim up as shared. Wing awarded the victory to Maybery.



12 October 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

8.45 On standby this morning when a message came through of Hun activity along the Veurne-Jabbeke road. Maxwell, Turnbull, Harmon, and Dodds. Stinging rain through 8000 feet. Weaving our way around towering stacks of Cumulus we were nearly at the lines when I spotted a Albatros emerging from a cloud below. Why he was alone and heading deep into our lines I could only guess.

A brief wing waggle then I split-arsed down behind him. Too much speed even with a sideslip. This Hun handled his machine well. I began to wonder it he was armored. A full drum and he flew on. Could my shooting have been that bad? It took me a third pass before I did any damage.


He flew straight briefly then slid off left. Near Furnes aerodrome he fell, clawing the dust in his fingers.

A Flight circled above me. I climbed to them and we resumed our march to the lines.
30 minutes patrolling the intercept point. No Huns. Turning south we made a sweep over Poelcappelle, dropping down in a shallow descent from 14,000 feet looking for trouble.


The guns spoke below. We chased the echo down.


And flew straight onto three silver Pfalz over Menin!

A nearly perfect if unplanned bounce. Maxwell sent one down in flames. I put a full drum into another.


“He fell thunderously, and darkness closed over both eyes.”

Only the one patrol today. Rain early afternoon but the weather cleared enough in early evening for me to lead the newest members of A Flight on a practice patrol. Cawson and Read arrived yesterday. Not enough hours. We’ll have our work cut out keeping them alive much less training them up to match fitness. Read looked especially shaky. I hope it’s just nerves.

The long-suffering and begrimed dispatch rider brought confirmation of today's two claims. Seventy-eight.