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Thanks for the stats Banjoman. No too many pilots in the early period. Looks like everyone wants to get to 1917 ASAP.


"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."
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Yep, Raine is normally a good standby during the early period but his pilot died and he hasn't created a new one.


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After I lost my early period pilot, I played with the idea of a German pilot in the early period or a British one in the later period. The latter idea won out and I didn't want to have two going at the same time. If Blaise gets killed, my next fellow may be in the earlier series...

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Dudley Nightshade
Sgt, RFC
6 RNAS


11 Dec 1916.

The weather opened up for a little flight time, but looks like it will close back in shortly. Light Snow and freezing rain along with Heavy cloud. The Sqn put up 5 a/c for a line patrol. spotted a few friendly a/c then headed home.

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Carrick58, I bet Arthur, my Warbirds pilot, has flown only twice during the whole month of December. I don't remember from early versions of WOFF the weather being so horrible in December '16. I wonder if they tweaked the weather logic?


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Same here. Cezar has been grounded since end of November in Verdun. Flown 1 mission last week. Flown yesterday and is grounded till Saturday. That's 3 missions in 3 weeks. Just imagine what must be happening in the trenches!


"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."
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December 1916 was very bad month for flying due to poor weather. However, good for relaxing and leave to Paris.

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I was thinking the same thing about the weather, but I do recall when I ran my first Laf Esc pilot through the whole war that around this time the weather was dog squeeze.

It just wasn't as odious as I just kept advancing through weather CNX until eventually I was back flying every day.

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Originally Posted By: JJJ65
December 1916 was very bad month for flying due to poor weather. However, good for relaxing and leave to Paris.

Time to learn Can-Can with the ladies.


"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."
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Finally had a chance to catch up on the story. The weather has been terrible!

War Journal of 2/Lt Blaise St John-Cottingham
Savy, France


4 December 1916: Shortly after my last entry on 27 November we received news that Captain George Parker, who had joined us and taken over A Flight only four days earlier, had been shot down. His flight met up with some of the new Albatros type scouts, which are the Hun’s latest devilry.

We have had snow and high winds every day for a week. Flying was impossible. We put up two flights (not mine, thank God) and lost four aircraft to bad landings in the winds. Several aircraft were damaged when their tail skids shattered on the frozen turf.

Major Smith-Barry is complaining unceasingly about the poor abilities of our new men. This week he wrote a long letter to the GOC outlining his ideas about how pilots needed to be prepared for France, the latest of several essays on the topic.

Smith-Barry is one of those types who become very concerned about morale when men are idle. To be sure, idleness has never bothered me greatly. I rather enjoy it, actually, especially when the alternative is to lather oneself in whale oil, don more sheepskin than a Cossack warlord, and take off into a hundred mile an hour blast at minus twenty degrees to test whether frostbite or the spray of burnt castor oil will do you in first.

We got up this morning to fine but bone-wrackingly frigid day. The flight was led by the New Zealander, Captain Caldwell (We call Caldwell “Grid.” It’s an Anzac name for a bicycle and he calls all aircraft grids. Some of the others have taken to it as well.) The job was to waltz over to Douai and strafe the Hun aerodrome there. By the time we turned onto our final leg, approaching the target field from the south, I could not feel my hands. They were mittened lumps of insensate blubber. I loosened by belt and tried sitting on one hand, then the other, but it did no good. Before arriving over the Hun field I tried placing my right hand inside my flying coat and under my arm. That succeeded only in letting the icy wind get at my upper body.

I made a firing pass over the hangars and saw several mechanics running about in panic. Great fun. Then off to one side there appeared a lone Halberstadt approaching the field. He must have spotted some of us for he turned away. He never saw me approach. I tried changing drums but dropped the spare one over the side due to my frozen hands. With just 15 or 20 rounds left in the first pan I closed to mere feet from the Hun machine and fired. There was no chance of missing. In a few seconds the Lewis’s cocking handle slammed forward into the number one position -- no more ammunition. My Halberstadt blithely sailed away, seemingly unharmed! I was separated now from the others and returned home alone.

I have read a great deal the past few days. Mother sent me several volumes of Walter Scott, and a rather good novel by Wells. Tried my hand at a bit of poetry for the first time since Shrewsbury School, but still produced pure rubbish.

11 December 1916: Lieut Cole took up four of us in driving snow to patrol deep into Hunland. We headed south towards the Saint-Quentin area. Naturally we saw nothing, but I had several harrowing moments as white Nieuports disappeared and reappeared only feet away in the cloud and muck.

Despite the weather, Sergeant-Major Aspinall, driven to action no doubt by the good major, rousted me out of the warm mess to join the football team for a match against 11 Squadron from Izel. The side from No 11 had the advantage of a larger mess, being a two-seater outfit, but we had a secret weapon in our stores sergeant, who had been a league midfielder before the war, and we won handily. I was filthy by the time we were done and the water at the village bath house was cold. If I die of pneumonia, please take the matter up with Smith-Barry.

14 December 1916: Have not flown since the 11th. Last night the squadron orchestra put on a concert for all ranks. The OC declared it a parade, so I spent ninety minutes in C Flight’s draughty hangar having my morale improved. Sergt-Major Nicod, our technical sergeant-major, is rather a good pianist, and some of the other ranks were fine violinist. The squadron commander announced that we have the finest orchestra in the RFC. He is a musician himself, and without his help all this would not be necessary.

For my part, give me a squadron commander who loves horses, hounds, wine, and women. Then we’ll have some entertainment.


"We got up this morning to fine but bone-wrackingly frigid day."

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Dudley Nightshade
Sgt, RFC
6 RNAS

Dec 16, 1916.


Still on the ground due to Weather.

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Here's the latest status report. Carrick58, I noticed you haven't logged any information in a while, please don't forget because I want to keep an official record of Dudley's exploits.



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Broderick Bolitho
Squadron Com.
December 18, 1916
Furnes Aerodrome

The morning show was to attack Roulers Junction. Myself and Flight Commander Kennicut were assigned the task. The day was very nice but cold. Only a few clouds and good visibility above 5000 ft. Approaching Roulers We were attacked by a lone Hun scout. Kennicut got behind him and I was able to watch the show as he sent him to the ground.



We reformed and made 3 passes on the Railyard. As I was completing my third pass there was a Hun scout coming straight for me. I out climbed him and rolled in on his tail and with a few short bursts he went to the ground and crashed. One more pass and we headed home. Another day alive.





Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end.
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End of August 1916, Flanders. Bruce Wayne is enjoying his time in the Strutter. On his most recent mission he crippled a Halberstadt, flew alongside him and then his gunner did what a gunner usually does. He farted in his general direction.



Bruce had to finish the job, as the gunner was having too much fun.

16 December 1916, Verdun. Cesar Turtellotte finally was able to get a mission in. Balloon busting.



"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."
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Dudley Nightshade
Sgt, RFC
6 RNAS

Dec 21, 1916.


The Sqn put up my section of 3 for a patrol. The enemy PBI put 2 holes in my lower left wing for my efforts, but at lest I got some air time.

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wave


Hi There, My pilot been on the ground except for 2 flights due to weather However I will send the info this weekend.

tanksalot

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Thanks, Arthur is in the same boat. I think I've only flown twice as well.


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Dudley Nightshade
Sgt, RFC
6 RNAS


Dec 22, 1916.

Balloon burst

B Flt: 5 A/c
Arm: Rockets and full machine guns loads.
T/O 0545 hrs.
WX: Low clouds but broken.


Remarks: I was flying Tail End and spotted 2 A/C High and to the East so popped up as High Cover. The e/a stayed away so reformed. My mates got the Air Bag amid Gun Fire. No fight with E/A developed so fired rockets at Known MG nests on the lines. One N-17 was lost due to ? Lumpy was seen waving as he lost height and crashed on the Hun Side Maybe POW ?




Last edited by carrick58; 12/22/16 04:11 AM.
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Dudley Nightshade
Sgt, RFC
6 RNAS

Dec 23, 1916.

B flight had the duty so off on Patrol. Nothing spotted.

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Dudley Nightshade
Sgt, RFC
6 RNAS


Dec 24, 1916.

I say, good show today ! B flight's 4 a/c were up on Patrol with Flt Commander Temple acting as Cover. Nearing the Trenches, I saw him mix it up with 2 e/a scouts. I dove to give a spot of help. He must have hit 1 because it headed for Hun Land, but the other made a side pass and got on his tail. Petal to the Metal, I barely got close enough to fire off a 40 rd Burst. The e/a , A Halb I think, curved to the right and I fired off another 40 rds. I must have hit him because the e/a slowed so I gave him 32 more 303 cal bullets. The e/a turned into a fireball as his wings came off and he went into a final dive. Following the Commanders a/c, I saw him force land by a French Church. He's Ok, I saw him Waving after getting out of the machine.


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