Albert, unfortunately, as you will see soon enough, the bomber was denied. Too many cooks in the kitchen. Kevin, on the other hand, is enjoying a nice streak of confirmed victories. Someone in the claims office must like him. So, a DFW to go with his coffee and a Fokker after lunch. Kevin is just making it look easy. Big day tomorrow!
The Bréguet on fire has been denied. Too many pilots were claiming it to determine who dealt the final blow. This morning the Schwarm was sent to patrol enemy front lines between Malzeville and Pont-à-Mousson. The flight went by without much excitement until Jasta’s return trip when Schwarm Eins spotted a pair of Bréguets and went after them. Schwarm Zwei followed while Klaus observed from above. When the time was right he swooped down and attacked one of the bombers. His aim wasn’t true on the first pass and the French two-seater easily avoided the attack. The two began to circle each other and the rear gunner automatically targeted Raben’s Fokker, despite many other German planes attacking the large plane. The Frenchman hit the Fokker’s wing and quickly followed with another. Klaus felt his controls go slack and his plane was now less responsive. The German Flieger continued to track the enemy nonetheless. After another tight turn he heard a crack but couldn’t tell where the sound had come from. He looked to the right. The starboard lower wingtip was flapping in the wind. Klaus quickly checked the position of the Bréguet and only then he realized he was in trouble. His wingtip was flapping in the wind! It took a while to register, but he quickly disengaged after this discovery and promptly directed his plane to the closest airfield. Thankfully the rest of the Schwarm was keeping the bomber busy. Raben checked his plane’s stability after reducing his motor’s revs and he was satisfied he can keep it under control. He then proceeded to land his damaged crate. The rest of the Schwarm landed soon after and claimed both two-seaters. Meanwhile the carpenters and the riggers started work on Raben’s Fokker to get it ready for the next mission.
“- Gentlemen, today we’re doing something different.” The room was quiet now as the C.O. commenced his mission briefing. “- We are going after a French gasbag. Three pilots are assigned to do this. Brauch, Raben and Spindler. You’ll take care of the balloon near Malzeville and get back here as soon as possible. Understood?” August was already gathering his notes. “- Who’s flying the top cover for us?” Klaus raised the question. August looked straight at him and answered: “- Nobody. It’s just the three of you. It’s an observation balloon after all, not a formation of Strutters.” Klaus pursed his lips in displeasure. Everyone now was leaving the room. “- So, how do you want to do it?” Brauch was looking at Klaus expectantly, even though he was leading the flight. Klaus was surprised Martin Brauch was asking his opinion. It felt good. It filled him with confidence. “- We’ll go low and we’ll stay low. This way we should avoid all high flying patrols. We’d be outnumbered anyway. We’ll fly low but not too low to get hit by the Poilus below.” “- What if we encounter a low flying patrol?” Spindler interjected nervously. “- We’ll be outnumbered then too.” “- Our planes can outmaneuver anything the enemy can throw at us this low. Remember, they’ll not be able to dive to get away from us. If we meet any hostile machines, we’ll hit them hard. Get the gasbag and be back home for Schnapps und Würste. Ja?” Klaus reassured his flight mate. Spindler smiled meekly. “- Let’s do this, Gentlemen!” Their flight across the mud was uneventful and once over the target, Flak opened up and Brauch went into a dive. Spindler followed and then Raben. The two Fokkers in front opened fire and the balloon started to smoke. Klaus kept back to make sure to finish the balloon off in case the men ahead don’t manage to pop it. There was no need for it however. The gasbag burned brilliantly. All three Fokkers formed up and returned across the lines post haste. After landing, Brauch made the claim and all three men headed for the Kasino. They could smell the sausages all the way from outside.
"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys, The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain, From out of my arse take the camshaft, And assemble the engine again."
