homepage Forums Air Combat & Civil Aviation Wings: Over Flanders Fields DiD Centenary Challenge

Raine

So sorry to hear of Urqhart's demise. Such a promising career and story line too soon ended and undoubtedly a personal loss as well.

Robert, thank you! I'm of to the Grand Prix race in Montreal this week, so a few days' leave with get me set for the next fellow. And Lou, thanks for the DiD campaign medals. I missed your medal work a lot, but am loving the aerodromes, Mossy Face, etc.!!!

Lou, thanks for the beautiful DID medal! I'm glad to see you carry on the gong work in this campaign too.

Raine, I'm so sorry to see you lost your pilot! He had a good run and I enjoyed reading about his adventures. I can't even count how many pilots I've also lost to mid air collisions. Better luck with your next guy!

I'm finally able to continue the career of Bruno Berthier. Still flying Caudrons in Escadrille C 66, Bruno and his observer Pascal Girard have managed to score their first confirmed victory. More of that later...

Raine, sorry to learn of your anonymous pilot's demise. It's the unknown soldier's tomb for him.
I'm excited for you about your F1 trip. How much are the tickets, if you don't mind me asking? Don't tell me you have the pit-pass.

Thanks, Fullofit. The tickets I have are about $475 for 3 days. I bought them back in January, so I forget the exact figure. The price varies depending on where you are on the track and General Admission are quite reasonable

Our spot (not the most expensive, but still probably the best) is Grandstand 12. It is above the Senna Curve at the end of the start / finish straight. You see the start and the end of pit row and the pit exit, then the right kink before T1 left and T2 right (the 180 degree Senna) and then the cars rush uphill to your left. There are two jumbo screens in good view to pick up action at the other end of the track. At the end of the race, it's an easy jog to take in the podium celebrations. For several years we brought folding chairs and sat on the grassy hill below our grandstand, just feet from the track. But now my knees aren't up to the mad dash to get a good seating spot, plus we've managed to get seats at the base of the grandstand just a few feet from the old spot on the hill. So now I saunter in at a leisurely pace (it's a 25 minute walk from the Jean Drapeau Park Metro station), watch the pretty girls, and set up comfy stadium chairs on the grandstand. And unlike Austin, they let you bring food and wine into the track, so you can do yourself up well.

No pit pass, unfortunately.

I'll miss Colin Urquhart, but I think I'll try a German pilot this time. I'm working on a back story for Vizefeldwebel Demian Kraft, who is currently transferring from the Fliegerersatzabteilung in Hannover to the newly-formed Jasta 29. He'll begin operations on 12 February 1917 (12 June in RL).

Looks like you're in for a good show (despite Lance Stroll). They're forecasting 30 deg. weather in Toronto for Sunday, so it should be a tad nicer in Montreal. Not sure if I should be more envious of the live race or the pretty girls. In any case enjoy yourself.

Just a heads up for your German pilot. DiD starts with ranks: (Luft.) Offizerstellverter; (Marine) Flugmeister.
I was hoping for a continuation of Dalgleish's story, but it looks like it'll be hard to incorporate him into a German career. Unless ... the only way to avoid the firing squad for going AWOL is to accept a spy mission behind the lines.

I was thinking of Dalgliesh getting into a long wrangle with the CO after being refused permission to marry "wee Mary." If Colin had survived the war, Dalgliesh would have stayed in France and worked the farm, and Colin would have been their best man and a regular post-war visitor. Ah weel, as Dalgliesh would say. I love the Scots soldiers, so there will be another version of Dalgliesh at some point...

Oh, and I'll correct the rank.

Say it ain't so Bud! The loss of Colin hit me like a thunderclap. He will be missed by the squadron and Edgar. Enjoy the races and looking forward to hearing of your Hun pilots exploits.

Gentlemen;

Albert Earl Godfrey has had four missions on four consecutive days between 3 Feb 1917 to 6 Feb 1917. He finally got a kill on a DIII on the 6th which was captured on vid but there has been no time to write up the reports for these missions and it will probably be next week before any headway is made on that matter.
Suffice to say Albert is very pleased with himself at finally having put one on the board, chased off another and freed two BE2c's which were being stalked.

Lederhosen sorry to see Cecil go.

I must say I really enjoyed seeing the official casualty report form.
VVery nicely done Sir.

Lederhosen, sorry to hear about Cecil. Better luck with "D".

Jasta 18

6 February 1917, Halluin

Leutnant Walter von Bülow-Bothkamp has just landed, parked his Albatros D.II near the hangar and turned the engine off, when he noticed that Kette Zwei has already landed as well. He flew the lead for Kette Eins.
- "Something must have happened." He thought to himself as he was climbing out of the cockpit. His mechanic was already looking for any damage that may have been incurred during the latest scrap with the Strutters.
He walked into the barrack that housed Jasta 18's C.O. office. Leutnant Paul Strähle was already there sitting on a chair by the office door, looking very uncomfortable, nervously wringing his cap in his hands.
- "What's the matter?" von Bülow asked his friend.
Strähle put a finger to his lips and jerked his head in the direction of the door and said quietly. - "Aldi's already in there."
They both looked at the door, approached it as silently as possible and began to eavesdrop.
- "I DON'T CARE THAT THE STRUTTERS SHOWED UP!" Grieffenhagen's booming voice could clearly be heard without resorting to subterfuge.
- "THAT WAS NOT YOUR MISSION. YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO ESCORT THE RECON PLANES OVER THE LINES. WE DON'T HAVE INTELLIGENCE BECAUSE YOU FAILED TO PROTECT THE OBSERVATION MACHINES."
There was some inaudible voice and then much louder response.
- "I DON'T WANT TO HEAR YOUR SIDE OF THE STORY, LEUTNANT. NOR STRÄHLE'S. I'LL GET TO HIM NEXT! IT SEEMS HE WAS THE FIRST ONE BACK. PERHAPS HE DOESN'T LIKE TO FLY ANYMORE. I'LL FIND HIM A NEW JOB - PEELING POTATOES!"
Paul shrank down in the chair outside the door.
- "AS FOR YOU," Griffenhagen continued, "YOU DID NOT SHOOT DOWN TWO STRUTTERS. JUST THE ONE OVER OUR AIRFIELD. NO ONE HAS SEEN THE OTHER ONE. NOW THAT'LL BE ALL. DISMISSED!"
Aldi walked through the door with a bitter expression on his face. He looked at his friends staring back at him. Von Bülow opened his mouth to say something, but decided against it. Aldi walked out. Strähle still sitting on the chair with a mess of a hat still clutched in his hands declared to von Bülow in a rather shaky voice: - "I like flying."

To: Comandant
Esc 81
La Noblette Ferme,
Verdun, Fance.



From: Ward # 7 , Bed 5.
1 st Field Hospital
Boulogne, France.

Dated: June 20, 1917.




I do hope the Esc is doing fine against the Bosche. I am up and around so should be returning to the unit shortly.

Regards, Gilbear du Bassy
B Flt. Esc 81.

Lederhosen, my condolences. We're dropping like flies these days! Best of luck with the new recruit.

Squadron Commander Cyrus Gold still operates from Furnes with 1 RNAS in February 1917. Currently getting into rather large scraps with the enemy.




Etienne Valois in June 1917 flying his Nieuport 24 has been promoted recently to Capitaine and is now flying a SPAD.

Jasta 18
7 February 1917, Halluin

- "Scheisse, Griffenhagen's not going to like this!" Aldi thought to himself as he watched a formation of Nieuports get ready to attack the DFW's he was charged with protecting. He placed his Schwarm between the assailants and their prey and braced for a tough fight. Yet again he found himself leading the flight after Staffelführer Griffenhagen's machine was hit by ground fire while climbing to altitude after take off. Halluin is just too close to the front lines to make a safe climb. He pointed his Albatros directly at the French machines with von Bülow and Strähle in tow.
- "Here we go!" Aldi murmured to nobody in particular as he leaned into his gunsight and placed his thumbs on the triggers of his twin Spandaus. The distance between combatants decreased rapidly. Aldi squeezed and the machine guns let loose deadly projectiles piercing air, wood, canvas, metal, flesh and bone alike. He flew through the enemy formation and banked hard to starboard to reengage, but there was no one to engage. He looked around. The Nieups were gone, the Albs were also not in sight. Aldi searched for the two-seaters, who by now had turned around and were heading for home. He found them near the lines at a lower altitude. All of the Nieuports were on their trail with a few being occupied by Strähle and von Bülow. Aldi aimed for the group and dove picking up speed. He finally caught up with them as the Frenchmen began engaging the DFW's. Aldi fired at the closest silver plane. Nieuport seemed to freeze in place for a second as if someone was preoccupied with looking back to asses situation and then rolled away and dove. Aldi did not follow, he kicked the rudder and slipped sideways to the next target in line. He shot again and this French machine also rolled and dove. Aldi switched to the last Nieuport following the reconnaissance machines, knowing well that now there could be two enemy planes on his tail. He felt a sense of urgency to get to the last one of them and bug out, leaving the observers free to continue home unmolested. He looked quickly back to check what's happening behind him. It was clear for now. He concentrated on the target in front of him and begun pumping lead into him. Unsurprisingly this one rolled and dove as well, but this time Aldi followed with quick glances back to make sure he's clear to continue his attack. They dropped all the way to the deck. German guns in the trenches engaged giving Aldi additional level of confidence. More rounds found their mark as Aldi zeroed in on the Nieuport and then it was all over. Nieuport lost its wing and spiraled down to hit the forward trenches. If not for the growl of his Mercedes engine, Aldi would hear cheering and jubilant shouts coming from the troops in the trenches, who had just been treated to a show in the sky. He flew over the troops and waggled his wings to show them his appreciation. He turned east and made his way home. The two other leutnants joined him shortly and they all circled the airfield and landed as one.

Thank you, Raine, Fullofit, lederhosen, Lou, Carrick, Robert, Adger, Arup, and anyone else who has contributed stories to this "immersive" thread. We have some excellent writer's on this forum. Keep up the good work!

Sorry to hear about the recent loss of so many fine aviators, and just as I was getting to really know them. Ah well, war is hell and all that rot.

I look forward to hearing the back stories and adventures of our new arrivals.

Here's the latest status report.

Journal Entry: 11 February, 1917
Pronville

30 days of furlough spent at home, what a blessing! It was my first time home since I enlisted and it was a much needed rest. My precious mother scrapped together enough food to prepare a Christmas dinner for me even though it was in January and so we celebrated as if I had been there in December. What a shock it was to see how much my parents have aged since I left. I was so selfish to think that only I carried the burden of this horrible war and now that my younger brother Kurt is following in my footsteps, I can only imagine the toil that the additional stress will take on my dear mother. Father seems to be handling the burden much better than mother, but he has his work to occupy his mind. Thank God that darling, little Elsa will stay safely out of this war. I was surprised to hear that Kurt had applied and been accepted into flight training. I had no idea that he even had any interest in flying. I certainly hope he isn't trying to follow in his older brother's footsteps, I would hardly recommend this life to anyone. Mother and Father invited the Jüngers over for tea one day and much to my surprise, little Marta isn't so little anymore. As a matter for fact, she has blossomed into quite the beautiful young lady and if I survive this war I will have to pursue this more closely. As usual with pleasant times, it came to an end and it was time for me to go. Father stoically shook my hand, but mother's tears almost undid me and I was saved by the train's rapid departure.

I returned to Pronville on the 6th and found that the front had advanced to within 5 miles of our aerodrome. The constant thundering of the guns will take some getting used to, but the men say that eventually it just fades into the background. I guess a person can get used to almost anything. My adjutant introduced me to the new faces in the mess, but thankfully the old crew was still around. Rather than taking a few days to readjust, I insisted on flying a patrol up to the front to see how things were progressing. That rash decision almost was the end of me because we were bounced by a pack of Sopwiths and there isn't much our Albatri can do against those cursed Pups. Fortunately, I was able to put down just inside our lines. The rest of this week with the exception of today has been uneventful, which has been perfect for me due to the large amount of paperwork I seem to have amassed during my absence. I thought today's patrol would also be uneventful, but as I was turning for home I saw three dots materialize out of the clouds. I quickly recognized the dots as Caudrons and I gave the signal to attack. Even though the Caudron has two observers, their fields of fire are very restricted and therefore they are as the men say, "easy meat". Today was no different and the three French machines were quickly sent spiraling down.

I am pleased to be back among my men, but I realize now what a terrible strain my service is on my parents. I will commit to sending my mother more letters about the humorous things that happen here and I will send a letter to Kurt and tell him to do the same.

Journal Entry: 11 June, 1917
Droglandt

The old saw that states, "It's not what you know, but who you know that's important" is in my case absolutely true. I have always hated people who used their connections to get what they want in life and I have pledged in the past to never do that sort of thing. Life is funny in a cruel sort of way because I found myself in a situation where I had to do just that. I was fully prepared to do my best as an advanced instructor but what I wasn't prepared for, was the wanton loss of life. In my time, which was two months, I lost ten student pilots. Each one of those students died in the most useless manner possible and at the end of two months I found that I just could not stomach another bright promising pilot ending his life because he forgot the most basic of instructions. I mean, how many times did we tell them that if you lose your engine at takeoff do not under any circumstances try and turn back to the field, and yet, we lost five pilots doing just that. It would be bearable if we could have taken the time to carefully train these young men, but with the latest losses the brass hats have pressured the instructors to rush the men through sometimes without even the most rudimentary training. After the last needless death I just decided enough was enough and I reached out to my father. My request was simple. I want to be sent back to a Scout unit. It is bad enough losing men, but at least in a fighting unit their loss can serve some purpose. It just so happens that my father went to Eton and is rather close to a certain someone who is highly placed in the Admiralty. I think that my father was actually pleased to help me, sort of gave him a purpose in the war effort, if you will. Anyway, between the machinations of my father's friend and the fact that I am the highest scoring pilot in the RNAS, I was eventually informed that there was an opening in the 10 RNAS scout squadron and I could have that assignment with one stipulation, that I fly no patrols over the enemy lines. That satisfied my situation perfectly and I agreed to the conditions and packed my bags for Droglandt. The 10th is a salty outfit and I already like what I see and hear from the men. As a matter of fact, one of my pilots is Flight Lieutenant Collishaw and I expect great things from him if he should survive. Just this morning, I flew a DOP with Flt. Lts. Collishaw, Harrison, and Gibbs down near Diksmuide. We ran into a flight of the newest model of Albatros and made short work of them. I am firmly convinced that the Huns do not have any machines capable of besting our Tripes. I never thought I would love a plane more than my old Pup, but the Tripehound has certainly won my heart. It is good to be back with men that are flying and fighting with a purpose.