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Fullofit, Great video as always, Gaston will score before long.
Carrick, it seems your squad is getting busy!
Wulfe, Cambell's story is getting better by the episode.
Lou, becoming a real celebrity aren't we!

Lt. Mark Jericho
Auchell Aerodrome
47 combat missions
13 engagements with the enemy

Jericho and Christian have been on constant bombing missions the last few days. None of any real consequence. They were attacked by an olive green Fokker on a arty spotting mission southwest of Bapaume which was unusual to them both as all the others were of the normal tan looking color. They had suffered some hits during the attack and had sat down at La Bellaview to get their machine checked out. As Jericho told Christian, "she's fine, I just wanted to warm up before we made the last leg home!" Christian laughed and agreed it was a grand idea.

This morning at 10 they took off to bomb Bertincourt. It was heavy snow and cloud. Jericho was very apprehensive as he was to lead himself and Dickens. They were to have 2 escorts, if they could meet up in this soup. The prospect of of going that far behind the lines was not very appealing to the group but it seemed these deeper missions were becoming more often. At the rendezvous position they circled for about 5 minuets before the Nieuports showed up and they continued to Bertincourt. The cloud cleared long enough for Jericho to spot Bertincourt a few miles to the north and he turned the flight to begin their bombing run. As they turned he could see 4 or 5 Eindeckers in the process of taking off. "If we can just get these eggs gone and high tail it out of here we will be alright!" he thought to himself. He judged the distance and let the bombs go and turned west as hard as he could. They were at 2000m and should have enough height to get back to the lines before the Huns could reach them. The two Nieuports dove to engage and Jericho wished them well. Approaching the mud Jericho could see that one of the Huns had made it to them and was lining up for the attack. He and Dickens had their machines side by side daring the Hun to attack. When he did he was met by a blistering bursts from both gunners. Jericho could just see pieces coming off the Eindecker as it turned and made a hasty retreat. Again it seems they found their target as the flight was given a "congratulations' by the Major.

By the afternoon the snow had slacked a bit and Jericho found James at Madam FouFou's as he called his shack at the airfield. "Well Pard, you feel up to a riding lesson?" Jericho asked. When James hesitated Jericho added. "Just the basics James, no cowboy sh#t yet!"
"Why not!" James said as well as he could with his cheek stitched up.
"I made a set of proper cowboy spurs" Jericho said as he showed a shiny new pair of spurs to James. "This ain't that crap the cavalry uses. This is a real working pair but you won't need them today. Today we are just going to let you find your seat."
James did not say anything but admired the smithy work on the spurs. "Very nice" James said. "Do these hurt the horse?" he asked.
Jericho stopped and turned to James. "They can. That's why you won't be using them today. Spurs are just a way of communication with the horse. Now, if I wanted your attention all I have to do is tap your shoulder. Right?" Jericho asked James.
Yes, I suppose so" answered James.
Jericho continued. "Now it I hauled off and knocked the crap out of you, that would get your attention too would it not?"
James looked at Jericho puzzled as he did not know where this conversation was going.
"Its like this" Jericho said as he nudged James's leg with the rowel, "that's all I need to get the horses attention or give him a signal, I don't need to kick him with it. Matter of fact, the first man I ever see kicking Moon, spurs or no, he is going to get a lesson in abuse. But, forget about these for a while. That's for another day.

Once Moon was saddled up and James was sitting in on the horse, Jericho attached a 20' rope to to the bottom of the bridle and knotted the reins over Moons neck. "You wont be needin' these either yet" Jericho said. James was becoming more apprehensive by the minute. "Now, get yer feet outa' the stirrups and cross you arms on your chest." he told James. "I don't know about this Mark" James said.
Jericho looked at James. "If your feet are in the stirrups, you will try to balance on them. If you have the reins you will do the same. Do either and you ain't gonna' find your seat. I got the horse. You just concentrate on relaxing and feeling the horse up under you. Got it?" James sighed and relaxed, "got it" he replied.
With that Jericho stepped off a bit with the lead rope in hand and clucked to Moon. Moon obeyed immediately and started to walk in a circle around Jericho. "Relax Pard" Jericho said as he saw James start to stiffen up. "A sack of flour will ride on that saddle all day long. You put a stick of stove wood on it and it comes off in a heartbeat. Relax." Jericho stopped Moon to let James concentrate a bit and then clucked again. Moon started walking the circle again and James was much more relaxed. "Lookin' like a real cowboy Amigo!" Jericho said. After a few rounds Jericho asked how he felt. "Feels good." James replied.
After a few more rounds James was getting the feel of the seat. Jericho said "Now close your eyes."
"What!" James asked.
"Just do what I tell ya and close your eyes. You will really get a feel for your seat." Jericho said. James did what he was told and on they went for another 15 minuets before Jericho stopped Moon. Jericho then untied the reins and the lead rope and told James to walk him a bit. They had already gone over right, left and stop. "Now he is a little spirited so don't use your heels to get him going. just give him a little cluck like you heard me do, relax and enjoy the ride. Just take him in a nice circle right here."
James rocked a time or two in the saddle and gave Moon a cluck and off he went at a walk. "Now pull a little right rein and go in the other direction" Jericho said. James did as he was told and Moon turned to the right and went in the other direction. After 30 minutes of back and forth Jericho said "let that be the lesson for today. Your doin' fine Pard. We'll have you ropin' Huns afor its over with!"
James eased out of the saddle and patted Moon on the neck. "That was fun!" James said. "H@ll yea it's fun! Next we'll teach you how to post a trot."

Note: Pair of old style cowboy spurs I forged under the tutelage of George Ainsle, Master Blacksmith and good friend who passed away a few years back.
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Awesome tale, MFair. Nice to hear you sharing your personal expertise with the chaps. Nice spurs too! smile


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Thank you Harry. Well, since James bought the horse for me under the condition I teach him to ride, here we go! Ask 10 people how to train a horse or people to ride and you get 10 different opinions. This just happens to be mine.


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Man, oh man! Those are some great stories. I was reading them and bow I'm exhausted from wading through so much creative juice! I need a towel! Beautifully done Gentlemen. Can't wait to get more.
MFair these are beautiful spurs. Good enough to be on Forged in Fire! How long did it take you to finish 'em?

7 March, 1916 10:00
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Adjutant Gaston A. Voscadeaux

As expected, yesterday’s claim for the Aviatik was denied to Cpl. Dreux and Sgt. de Geuser. Perhaps one day they will learn to cooperate instead of compete.
The HQ decided that it was the right time to help les P.C.d.F.* and bomb the enemy front lines north of Verdun. Sleet was not the preferred condition for an aerial bombardment, but Esc N37 went ahead and did it anyway. Gaston and his wingman led the 'A' Flight all the way to the target without losing visual contact. It was not until they've dropped their bombs that he lost them from sight. Voscadeaux was admiring their handiwork too much to keep one eye on them. It will take a while before he gets tired of watching the fireworks, especially when one of the main ingredients is freshly minced Hun. He searched the overcast skies but to no avail. He decided to turn back hoping that that's what the ‘A’ Flight had done as well and are now miles ahead of him. The conditions were degrading with each minute and the murky mist below was giving Gaston the gooseflesh. Eventually he found the lost flight. They were circling the aerodrome when Voscadeaux and his wingman arrived. He'll have to pay more attention in the future.

*P.C.d.F - Pauvre Couillons de Front - Poor Mugs at the Front - nickname les Poilus had given themselves in the trenches.

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"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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Fullofit, that weather sucks! Pretty much the same up north. Looking forward to spring. Thank you for the compliment Sir! The spurs took me two full days. The heel band is tapered toward the front and the shank and chap guard were forged out and peened to the band, then copper soldered. As you can see, I’m not to good at soldering. The rowel was hot cut and forge tapered out, then hand filed to get the fancy part. The jingle bobs were forged using a swage. Heat, bam, bam, done.

The hardest part was I was on the tail end of therapy after popping my right bicep tendon so had to use my left hand. I have done a fair amount of blacksmithing in my day but when you have a master blacksmith leading the way it sure makes it smoother. He passed way too young at 54.


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MFair, sorry to hear that. 54 is way too young. At that age you’re still climbing to see what’s over that hill. RIP.
If you did all this work with your left hand, then that’s even more impressive. What else have you forged? Anything in Damascus? Love how that stuff looks.


"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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Nice job MFair.

Great reading today

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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
4 Sqn Rfc.
Allonville, Flanders

March 7, 1916

0906 hrs Bombardment. Up to the lines , dropping 25 pounders on the PBI. Weather bad 8/10ths cloud cover had a heck of a time finding the field.

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MFair, those are some beautiful spurs you've forged there. My condolences on the loss of your friend and instructor. He taught you well. Hope you have full use of your right arm back by now.
Also, another great episode, good to see Jericho is getting James up in the saddle. Swany has held off asking about taking Moon out for a ride: first, because he knows his friend Jericho has been taking every chance he can get to work with the fine animal; and second, because Swany would prefer to ride when the weather is a bit warmer. The Minnesotan grew up with horses on the farm and at his uncle's sawmill, as they were used often for pulling plows and moving goods and such. He learned to ride as a child, in fact beginning on bareback. Truth be told, when it's a leisurely ride, he still prefers going with just a saddle blanket and a light rope around the base of the horse's neck.

Carrick, it is a trick to find your way around when the clouds are thick.

Fullofit, looks like Gaston had poor visibility to contend with as well. I hope we're not in for another long stretch of horrid weather.

Harry, I like the old journal entry, well done.

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Originally Posted by MFair

They were attacked by an olive green Fokker on a arty spotting mission southwest of Bapaume which was unusual to them both as all the others were of the normal tan looking color.


Interesting! That sounds like the same blighter that was on my tail the other day! Crafty, that one...

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I've been terribly busy with real life, but here's finally a new entry for Julius. Then I'll have to do some catching up with all the other stories posted here during my absence... I know they'll be worth it. reading

There have been some organizational changes in Julius's outfit, and soon he will get his opportunity to fly an Eindecker! But that will be the topic of another story...


8. BACK IN BUSINESS

“You cannot wage war with sentimentality. The more ruthlessly war is conducted, the more merciful is it in fact, for it finishes the war the sooner.”

- Paul von Hindenburg (1914)

March 2, 1916.

Julius sat on an uncomfortable wooden bench in the hallway of the army field hospital at Bapaume. He had been staying at the hospital since his crash on February 21st. Now he was finally declared fit for service, and had already checked out at the hospital office. A car had been sent from the Abteilung to take him back to the field at Bertincourt. Julius hated hospitals, and this one had been even worse than the army hospital in Königsberg. The concussion had troubled him for only a few days, but the doctors had refused to let him rejoin his unit and begin flying again until they were absolutely sure he had suffered no long-term injury which would impair his senses.

The hospital reminded Julius of a factory. It functioned in three shifts around the clock, treating a continuous stream of patients flowing in from the sector of the 2. Armee. Yet it wasn’t even a so-called busy sector of the front right now; nevertheless, the patients just kept coming in. The concussion had been uncomfortable, but Julius’s injury was insignificant compared to the horrible mutilations some of the men being treated there had suffered in the trenches. If there was any chivalry left in war, it was not of the kind he had read about in adventure books aimed at youngsters.

The door to the hallway opened, interrupting the dark thoughts of Julius. He looked and saw a familiar figure standing in the doorway - Leutnant Leffers! Julius felt instantly better. “Gustav! Over here!” Julius yelled and stood up quickly. Leffers noticed him, smiled, and with a few brisk steps he was shaking hands with Julius.

“Good to see you, old fellow! We heard they’ve had enough of you here, so we thought it best to send a car to pick you up. Since the weather is no good for flying, I volunteered for the job. How are you doing?” Julius was now also smiling. “I’m fine - have been for a few days now. But only now they let me go. I was nearly bored to death.”

“I believe you. Well, the sooner we leave, the quicker you can get back to flying! Weather permitting, of course. It has been downright terrible in the past few days. You haven’t really missed much, staying here with the nurses.”

“Very funny. You know I’m not like that. Now let’s get out of here!” Julius had no personal belongings to speak of with him, so the two men simply walked out of the building. The weather was indeed bad, with wet snow pouring down from the dark clouds. The small Mercedes car of the Abteilung was parked nearby. The men quickly walked to the car and Julius helped Gustav to start it. Soon they were leaving the premises of the field hospital and driving along the Bapaume road towards Bertincourt.

“This weather is crap! I hope we’ll manage to stay on the road!” Leffers grumbled as the car slipped dangerously when they were passing a horse transport column on its way to the front. Eventually, the going became easier, and the men were able to relax and talk about things.

“So Hauptmann Viebig won’t be kicking me out for wrecking the Aviatik? And I'm still getting a chance to fly one of the new Fokkers we've now received from the depot?”

“Of course not, and yes, you’ll be getting your chance to fly a monoplane now just like everybody else. You’re not the first, nor the last, pilot to lose a plane in this war. It’s easy to buy a new crate; but it’s much harder to train a new aviator. Fortunately your head was thick enough to survive the blow!”

“I’m not even sure what happened. We were flying as usual, with Max getting ready to some photographs of the British lines, and then all of a sudden the engine went crazy and began to spurt out oil everywhere. I couldn’t see well because of it, and the landing was terrible.” Julius grimaced at the memory.

“It happens. You know how I wrecked that Fokker last autumn? Viebig wasn’t too happy about it, but at least I suffered no injuries. Experiencing sudden mechanical failures is just one of the perks of being an aviator!” Leffers winked and grinned at Julius. “Oh! I almost forgot. I have a couple of letters for you that were delivered while you were away. Maybe you’d like read them now. After all, it’s going to take a while on this road to get to the field.” Leffers reached for his pocket and pulled out a small stack of papers. “Sure, why not.” Julius accepted the letters and studied them. There was one letter from Leni, another from Tante Emmi of Königsberg (probably chastising Julius again for not writing often enough) - and a postcard from his brother Hermann. Printed on it was a painting of one of the Metz fortresses in Lothringen. Julius turned the card over and read the short note written on it, apparently with great haste, because normally his brother had an excellent hand.

Julius was silent for a while, and then spoke with a hint of worry in his voice.

“It’s from Hermann. His company is going to Verdun.”

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Nigel Archibald Notting
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4 Sqn Rfc.
Allonville, Flanders

March 8, 1916.


Back to Betincourt, Our 2 a/c dropped 2 bombs each then headed home. Easy Run as the Huns never started their Take offs till after the bombs hit. Nosed over and pegged 130 mph all the way back across the lines. T he leaders bombs hit near the target mine fell over somewhere ?

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Lou, you wouldn't believe how the weather could affect the outcome of a mission. Just read on!
Hasse, glad Julius is out and about. Can't wait to read about his experience in the Fokker. Too bad for Hermann. He'd better look out for those French planes above his head wink
Carrick, I see that shoot and scoot is your name of the game. Keep it up and you may just survive yet!

8 March, 1916 10:00
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Adjutant Gaston A. Voscadeaux

The turquoise sky was unbelievable. It was almost impossible that such colour could exist in nature. Voscadeaux was admiring these clear skies while following Ltn. Dagonet, who was commanding the 'B' Flight as Gaston had no experience leading a large group of aircraft. Gaston had never flown in a 5-ship formation. The Command must be desperate if such a large force was needed to protect one observation aeroplane on an arty spotting mission over enemy front sector in the St. Mihiel salient. After following Cpl. Soumagniat in his N12 for what seemed like 23 minutes, he made an abrupt turn toward west and the Dagonet gave signal to attack. All planes dove on a pair of Eindeckers that were rather favoring their odds. Gaston kept back as he knew there would be shoving and pushing to get first in line to get to the Hun. The engagement was very tame with neither side attempting a proper attack. The Fokkers stayed on their side and the Nieuports on theirs. Gaston got fed up with all this pussyfooting and crossed the line. He dove and caught up with the enemy as the rest of 'B' Flight looked on. The pair of monoplanes did not expect this at all. Gaston took position behind the trailing Fokker, aimed and squeezed the trigger. The burst hit the Boche engine and streams of smoke erupted from the surprised Hun’s machine. Another burst and a spray of tiny blood droplets hit Voscadeaux's goggles. He had him! Gaston quickly looked around for the leader but there was no sign of him. He followed the trail of smoke to finish what he’d started but there was no need. The monoplane made a spiral and as it disappeared behind Nieuport’s top wing, banked on one wing and dove into the ground. Gaston could only see the quickly dispersing trail of black smoke that followed. There was too much ground clutter to see the crater. The lead Fokker was nowhere to be found. This worried Gaston and he crossed the NML as quickly as possible. As he rejoined the rest of the ‘B’ Flight it occurred to him he had his first Hun. He let out a war cry that no one else could hear. He couldn't wait to get back to base.



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And assemble the engine again."
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Sorry to have not been posting lately ... been too busy to fly. Hope to get caught up soon. Enjoying the writing!!

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Willi 9.März 1916

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make mistakes and learn from them

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Lederhosen, when you get to the Verdun sector, please do be careful when you shoot at the N10's. Gaston could be flying in one of them.

9 March, 1916 10:38
Senard, Verdun Sector
Escadrille N37
Adjutant Gaston A. Voscadeaux
Waiting for claim confirmation

Today was another large formation mission to escort two N12s north of St. Mihiel salient to direct artillery fire. Gaston was sitting in his plane warming his engine waiting for the rest of the flight to get the lead out when all of a sudden two Fokkers appeared over the aerodrome. Were they here to attack? Lost? Deliver a message? Gaston didn’t want to find out while sitting idly on the pitch. He was first up and chasing the intruders. As soon as the Eindecker pilots noticed movement below, they changed their course and raced north toward the frontlines. Voscadeaux was in pursuit, but wasn’t making up any ground. The two dots in front of him traded height for speed. It looked to Gaston that one of the specks traded too much height to get away and disappeared in the trees of the forest below. There was no sign of fire or smoke. The other monoplane was nearly over the frontlines and Gaston had to give up the chase. He turned around and took a wild guess as to where the rest of his flight would be when he gets back. They were circling the initial waypoint waiting for the ‘A’ Flight to join them. Gaston took his place in the formation and proceeded along the predetermined path towards the front, east of their current location.
They were near their assigned target area when the flight leader noticed two more Fokkers patrolling the skies. Ltn. Dagonet waggled his wings and the fight was on. While the leader attacked Fokker 1, Gaston settled for Fokker 2. He was on his tail and getting ready to take the target out when shots were fired from behind him. The rest of the flight was right behind him taking potshots over his head. This was too close for comfort and Gaston was forced to disengage. If they want to crash into each other while chasing the foe, then they’re welcome to it, but he would have no part of it. He watched as Clp. Dreux and Adjutants Boillot and Barnay chased the Fokker, trying to outrace each other to bring the Boche down. Finally, Adj. Barnay dealt the final blow and the Eindecker crashed into the frozen ground below. Gaston looked for his flight leader but instead noticed the first Fokker running away across the NML. Voscadeaux didn’t waste any time and chased after him with his wingman closely following behind. The German had height advantage, but Gaston wasn’t giving up. He finally caught up with his target over the Bechamps aerodrome, but his wingman got there first and initiated his attack. The Hun was able to avoid him by tricking Dreux to dive and overshoot him. Gaston was observing the engagement cautiously from above and dove on the German when he saw that Dreux wouldn’t interfere. Voscadeaux’s bullets ripped through the monoplane’s fuselage. And the startled German pilot made an evasive maneuver that would have nearly worked if Gaston wasn’t watching him trick his wingman just a minute ago. Voscadeaux was back behind the Boche in no time and firing again. This time the Hun went into a spin, aiming for the middle of the aerodrome below. Gaston didn’t dare to follow for the fear of being cut to ribbons by the ground fire. Voscadeaux saw the Fokker recover from his deadly spin just above the ground and then disappear into the ground clutter. He had seen this old trick before and knew there was no point following. It would be too risky. Instead he pointed his Nieuport west and followed his wingman back home. Cpl. Dreux was already well on his way and anxious to reach the safety of the French airspace.
They were more than halfway home, overflying Verdun and already looking forward to a hot meal with a glass of Bordeaux when Gaston noticed grey puffs of antiaérien on his starboard over the city. Some unlucky Boche was about to meet Adjutant Gaston A. Voscadeaux. He dove in the direction of the explosions and found his target. It was a lonely Aviatik making a reconnaissance run, most likely taking pictures of the damage German artillery had inflicted on the city during the last two weeks. His maneuver, despite being performed with the sun at his back was noticed by the Hun observer and immediately met with a hail of bullets. Some have found their way into Gaston’s top plane as he was taking up position behind the Aviatik. His machine wobbled but stabilized and Voscadeaux could align his gunsight with the target. He opened fire and watched as bits and pieces of the German aircraft were falling away and littering his flight path. Gaston was prepared to empty all his meagre ammunition stores, but the two-seater suddenly went into a nosedive and never recovered. Gaston hoped there were enough witnesses below for him to somehow make a claim, but was surprised by a sudden arrival of the rest of his flight. He had all the witnesses he ever needed and now, together with yesterday’s Fokker, he will keep the claims committee busy.



"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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Great stories Keep em coming.

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Nigel Archibald Notting
Sgt, RFC
4 Sqn Rfc.
Allonville, Flanders
March 9, 1916.

We did another 2 a/c Recon Hop up to the lines and back . No pesky Monoplanes to be seen. I should be up to 30.0 hrs flight time on the next show so will be putting in for a Scouting Sqn.Hopfully, it will be Near Paris.

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Nice video, Fullofoit! It's always a bit disconcerting when everyone decides to glom on to your target! I was biting my nails there for a moment waiting for the dreaded "crunch" sound, but you pulled through fine!


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Thanks Rick, I have to admit I was expecting that sound any second, knowing these guys flying crazy circles like that. It also looks closer than it is in letterbox. During the actual flight it didn’t look this dangerous when you’re concentrating on a piece of the screen.


"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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