Fervently scrambling to catch up. Great stories all, and very well done, MFair & Fullofit!
Wondering how that purple-marked N16 gets off the ground with all the extra metal on board...
Adj. James B. Fullard, Esc. N.124 'Americaine' Behonne Aerodrome, France
June 18th, 1916 (Part 1):
Our rain-holiday came to an end on the morning of the 7th, as the sun started to peek out from behind the looming grey clouds, and I was to fly my first patrol since the loss of my brother.
Norman Prince was to lead the show - the Capitane, I assumed, was apprehensive about letting me lead a patrol just yet - and we were to fly to the front at St. Mihiel. Capitane Thenault would be flying a second patrol in the area with de Laage and Cowdin. I watched as my Nieuport was rolled onto the flight line and parked next to McConnell’s machine, which bore a large white footprint on it’s fuselage, and I suddenly felt an apprehension as, in my mind, I watched again the horrific moment where Michael had driven himself into the ground. Gritting my teeth, I brushed the image aside.
It was a strange, almost detached feeling as we lifted into the air and I felt again that rushing icy wind against my face. I focused on scanning for Bosches as we circled up higher, attempting to distract myself from the flood of thoughts that had tried to take hold of me. We saw nothing, and so we headed towards the lines.
Over St. Mihiel the sky was clouded over, and as we weaved among the grey-white shapes I searched the skies for aeroplanes. I saw three in formation, far ahead of us, but quickly realised that it was Thenault’s Nieuports, already over the front. Down below, the flashes of artillery shell bursts lit up the mud. As we approached the German lines, Prince swung us around in a long arc, and we started to circle around our route once more. In the end, the patrol was eventless, and we sailed home without having seen another machine in the sky.
On the 10th a new pilot arrived at the Villa - a French Adjutant named Constantin Blanchon. The man didn’t have the appearance of a pilot - his hairline receded into a sweeping curve on top of his head and his age, around his mid-thirties perhaps, showed in frown lines around his mouth and eyes. Indeed, however, he possessed the typical moustache of a Pilote, and in his eight hours of combat flying as a Nieuport 12 pilot he had secured one victory over a Fokker.
Life at the Villa had been slow and eventless, save for the odd evening sorties to Bar-le-Duc. Hall had fallen out of favour with the other pilots following one patrol in which, after splitting from the formation, he claimed to have had a scrap with two Bosches, sending one down in flames on their side. However, Capitane Thenault found out later in the evening that he had merely returned to a nearby French aerodrome with engine trouble. I learned quickly that Hall was notorious for dishonesty, be it from cheating at cards, to exaggeration and sleight of truth, to complete unrepentant lying, and I had grown to dislike him along with my fellow Americans.
The rain continued to harass us during our patrols, even a light shower becoming a storm of needles against our unprotected faces. Lufbery (or just ‘Luf’, as the fellas called him,) had tried to remedy this one day by pulling up his scarf over his nose and holding them in place with his goggles, but this led to his breath condensating on the lenses and he nearly crashed his machine into the telephone wires that seemed to cover the entire Verdun sector. The wind had become another enemy - on the morning of the 12th, as we set out for patrol, a vicious crosswind nearly turned me over on my side as I took off! Later on that patrol I became separated from my flight in the clouds and found a lone Aviatik. A gift, I thought - but it was not to be. I got behind the Bosche and fired away until my weapon was completely empty, to which the Aviatik merely turned his nose up at me and flew away indifferently.
The next few days were so marred with rain that no flying could be done at all, and so we settled down to another holiday in the Villa. During this time, de Laage de Meux had the bright idea of a new squadron game. All of the men would speak English in the mornings and afternoons, and French in the evenings. Any violation of this rule, and the culprit would be required to leave a franc in a jar that we sat upon the fireplace in the lounge, almost like a swear jar. This brought much hilarity to the Villa, especially as some of the pilots had a habit of slipping into their mother tongue unwillingly. Despite all that had happened, and separate from my private miseries, I found myself feeling cheerful. I think Michael would like that.
On the morning of the 18th the sun broke through the clouds once more. I looked back in amusement at similar mornings with Escadrille 31, when little Devienne would sorrowfully declare that the weather had cleared up, and we would all groan in misery and drag ourselves from our cots. In the Escadrille Americaine, each pilot leapt for joy when he could fly again.
Congratulations to MFair for his promotion and the latest bling! Ladies will be lining up to get his autograph, and perhaps more? Also, congrats on the 6th victory. Let’s not forget that!
Lou, thank you for this fancy and exotic decoration. Could Gaston one day expect the Order of the Rising Sun from the Emperor himself?
Raine, bagging a Roland in an N16 is possible, but you have to be very sneaky. And you’re right. The head wound landed Gaston with a week’s worth of thumb twiddling on the ground. Speaking of daredevils, James is the ballsy one “attacking” formation after formation of Fokkers in his well worn Morane. My hat is off to you, Sir!
HarryH, so the stutter saga is finally over. Konrad has the engine tweaked to his liking and mechanic Behr is standing on some shaky ground.
Wulfe, welcome back! Glad you’re feeling better (or at least good enough to fly). And the intrigue is starting to brew already. I can imagine the jar full of Francs disappear and the prime suspect be that cod Hall. Ohhh, the investigation! But I’m getting ahead of yourself. I apologize.
Mon Dieu! So, that is it! That is the reason Gaston’s N16 flies like a pig! The medals are weighing it down. Unbelievable! Gaston is the victim of his own success! La barbe!
"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."
Back in harness, went AF attacking mission. I noticed the e/a look strange kind of Fish Shaped with 2 wings. Made a total of 3 passes 3 full drums fired Damage ? I reported to the X.O. about the strange looking e/a. He said: I say old boy thats an Albatross been around for ages. Then explained hows dangerous they were and how 3 of our chaps have gone for a " Burton " fighting them.
Back in harness, went AF attacking mission. I noticed the e/a look strange kind of Fish Shaped with 2 wings. Made a total of 3 passes 3 full drums fired Damage ? I reported to the X.O. about the strange looking e/a. He said: I say old boy thats an Albatross been around for ages. Then explained hows dangerous they were and how 3 of our chaps have gone for a " Burton " fighting them.
Do you use any mods? It seems like Consolidated airfields mod for period 1917/18.
Wulfe, your illness has not dulled your creative writing ability in the least! Carrick, nice to see Mallory back in the fight. Fullofit, Jericho only has eyes for Camille, no matter the temptation from the local damsels. That is unless it is an olive skinned, long haired brunette and he has had two margaritas!
Never approach a bull from the front, a horse from the rear or a fool from either end. BOC Member since....I can't remember!
CHAPTER SEVEN - A SURGE OF POWER, A DANGEROUS DESCENT AND A DASTARDLY DECEIT
Konrad Berthold von Blumenthal June 20th, 1916. Sivry-sur-Meuse, Verdun. KEK Sivry
Konrad had flown a couple of patrols yesterday, still in his EIII. On the second, his flight had gone so far ahead in their EIVs that Konrad was completely alone. And lost. He checked his knee-board to try and work out his whereabouts. They were supposed to have been somewhere around the Jametz field near the Bois de Parlay, but the orientation of the roads and train tracks didn't seem to fit with his current location. Eventually Konrad managed to ascertain that his likely position was actually much farther north than he had originally thought. He was correct. Spotting the field at Carignan, tucked into the forest south east of Sedan, he descended. The field was laid out very strangely, and given the prevailing wind, Konrad knew this would be a difficult landing. Thankfully he made it down safely and was able to radio in.
On the morning of the 20th, they had an early start. Still alone in his hut, due to the fact that his Rottenflieger, Strunze, was still recovering in hospital, Konrad woke and washed his face in a bowl of water, before suiting up for the morning mission. No time for breakfast today, he went straight onto the field. He looked around for his plane.
"Where's Behr?", he shouted at the nearest mechanic.
"He's not here, sir", the man replied. "The Hauptmann ordered him away last night. He's been transferred, sir." Konrad smiled to himself. Serves the #%&*$# right, he thought. He couldn't help but notice that the mechanic was regarding him with a measure of suspicion. So what if he suspects it was my doing. I don't give a #%&*$# what happens to Herr Behr. He certainly had it coming to him.
"Well, where's my plane then?". The mechanic pointed to a waiting EIV machine.
"The Hauptmann said to tell you you're flying that one today, sir.".
"Isn't he coming along?"
"No sir, apparently he's got business with the chief to attend to later this morning". Konrad wondered what that was all about, but he soon shifted his attention to his new mount! There, in the early morning light, stood a brand new Eindecker Mk IV, and it was his to fly! Eagerly, he clambered into the cockpit and dropped his googles over his eyes. The mechanic gave the propeller an almighty spin as Konrad engaged the motor and the EIV roared into life. He had to work hard to suppress the urge to cry out with joy. Finally he was going to be able to keep us with his Hauptmann! But on this particular mission, Boelcke wasn't going to be around, so he was free to "experiment" a little and get used to his new machine.
They carried out a routine reconnaissance escort for a lone Aviatik, without incident. Konrad marveled at the sheer surge of power on takeoff. He finally had the ability to climb, as well as keep up with the other flight members. Too soon try try any stunting, he decided. That could wait for another time. The excitement of flying the new plane faded on the return journey, however. Konrad became aware of a strange vibration happening somewhere in the vicinity of the engine. Soon, oil was splattering across his windshield. He immediately shut the engine off and assessed his position. He was just on the other side of the lines, but the winds were in his favor and he had sufficient altitude to coast back to the other side. The landing was still atricky one, but Konrad managed to find a clearing where he was able to set down without hitting anything.
When he finally got back to their field, Konrad was given a message that the Hauptmann wanted to see him. He quickly got changed and made his way to the office.
"Ah, von Blumenthal! Well? How was it? You're late!", said Boelcke, looking up as Konrad entered the room.
"Well I had a bit of engine trouble on the way home, sir. Other than that, it was a truly truly wonderful surprise, sir, and marvelous to fly! I really feel that I'll be able to accomplish many victories for the Fatherland with this machine, sir, like yourself!" Konrad was gushing with excitement.
"Hmm, think you can be as good as me, eh?", the Hauptmann's eyes twinkled in amusement. Konrad realized he may have let his enthusiasm carry him a little too far.
"Well, I could only hope, sir, one day, to reach your high standards, sir!". Konrad snapped off a salute and stood, statue like, hoping he had rescued the situation.
"In actual fact", Boelcke leaned back in his chair, "I've composed a list of the things that every pilot needs to learn and master. Call it my "Dicta Boelcke" if you will. Every German air pilot will study this and learn". Boelcke's facial expression changed, as he continued. "Now then, there's every chance that I'll be leaving Sivry soon to attend to some important work for the Kaiser. I will let you know who your new leader will be in due course. Make sure to look after that machine and obey orders at all times while I'm gone. Do you understand?"
"Yes sir!", replied Konrad, smartly.
"Good, good. And one other thing. These EIV's are as rare as rocking horse poop. I've decided to let you have this one, but we may not get any more for some time. With Strunze still in the hospital, even though he's the better pilot, and you know it, I've decided you can make better use of it. Just one thing: I need to inform him myself, so try to be discrete about it for now, will you?".
"Yes, of course, sir!".
Konrad left the office feeling giddy with excitement. His first thought was that he hadn't even been to visit Strunze since he had sustained his unfortunate injuries. Now seemed like the perfect time! He was soon able to secure a ride into town where he quickly made his way to the converted Chateau that was now functioning as a makeshift hospital. He found Strunze, considerably bandaged and immobilized. Strunze looked up to see Konrad standing at his bedside and managed to croak out a greeting.
"Well, I didn't expect to see you here, ever, frankly". Konrad squirmed a little.
"Well, you know, it's only right that I come and visit one of our own. How's the pain?"
"Excruciating, which I suppose you're none too bothered about. What's your real reason for coming, von Blumenthal?". Konrad could not prevent a smirk.
"Well, with you all bent out of shape, the Hauptmann decided that the one new EIV that has arrived better go to me. Besides, he thinks I have the talent to surpass your tally quite soon, given a better machine. I though you had better hear the news sooner than later, so that you won't be as disappointed when you return"
"Why, you horrible piece of work! Is that the only reason you came here? To brag and annoy me? Well, you've succeeded. You just wait until I get out of here. We'll see who's the better pilot!". Konrad smile slightly and replied.
"Well that's if you can keep up with me in your old crate". He left the hospital feeling very satisfied, looking forward to the following day's patrols already. He decided to celebrate by picking up a couple of bottles of wine on the way back. Life was good.
Harry, you make it so easy to hate Konrad. What has he done to you? Congrats on the new machine. I have a feeling a bunch of Nieuports are about to get a Spandau Special.
"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."
Up on Defensive Patrol, Blue Section dove on 2 Monoplanes over the lines. I was the last to see them, but did see both go down 1 in a spin the other smoke and flame. Sadly we lost one a/c One second he flying the next falling.
Fullofit, Jericho only has eyes for Camille, no matter the temptation from the local damsels. That is unless it is an olive skinned, long haired brunette and he has had two margaritas!
MFair, you mean like this?
Why not have it all?
"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."
Harry, you make it so easy to hate Konrad. What has he done to you? Congrats on the new machine. I have a feeling a bunch of Nieuports are about to get a Spandau Special.
Haha, thanks. I'm enjoying the process of creating a "bad guy" character
Congrats for the medals! And special thanks to Lou for being the Gong Fairy of DID. Your medal art is beautiful. I really hope we'll see more Belgian gongs. They are my favourites.
In Julius's career, when I saw the news that his squadron would be equipped with the brand new Halberstadt D.II, I was very happy indeed.
But then this happened:
I literally burst out laughing when I saw it. Of course everybody and his dog gets his own Halby - except Julius. Now it's even more pointless trying to keep up with my flight members. It was already a struggle when they had the Fokker E.IV. But now... I don't know. This is going to be an interesting summer with the battle of the Somme about to begin soon.
"Upon my word I've had as much excitement on a car as in the air, especially since the R.F.C. have had women drivers."
James McCudden, Five Years in the Royal Flying Corps
Promotions. Or a bit to quick in the German Army. So far Willi has been flying for about 6 months and he's already Hauptmann in WOFF. And thats probably just because of the 16 victory's he can claim. Wonder if "0" victory would result in the same. In RL I suppose that an Unteroffizier would of been noticed but promoted soooo quickly.
How shall we handle that here??? As far as I go Willi would still be a "Ranker" .....if only because of the lack showers
A time for celebration one would think. This morning the ground crews shot down and killed 3 French Pilots and their N16's as they, for some reason, attacked the airfield. To their credit though, they in turn, downed and killed one Roland and its crew while taking off. What were their names again? Who know's, they only arrived a few days ago. Ltn Brin, Brink, Brinkmann?? And Willi, the darling of the Kasta got his 16th today too. A Be2c, one of those defenceless ones that Tommy still flys. Should of been two, but forward observation didn't play “cricket” as Tommy would say. Still, a good day for the Kasta.
The service for the fallen Komrades was as solumn as always. Seems Gott is on the side with the better aircraft. Afterwards the boys were dismissed. The Kasino being the obvious place to meet as always. But this evening was different, for Willi sat alone in a darkend corner of the mess, with today's events still churning through his young mind. Not that Willi doubted the Kaiser or his Krieg. But something didn't seem …. normal.
In the space of few minutes five young men ceased to exist, and for what? Why had those fools dived directly over the airfield? Surely they knew that ground MG fire would be intense, or deadly as it turned out. Did they win anything? A Roland perhaps. No!! Turns out, after inspection, that our own ground crews shot down our Roland and Herr Brinkmann. Willi laughs to himself.
The mission, haa, that was still on and Willi carried out the orders for the day. Bomb Tommy, again. Jawohl Herr Kaiser!! 4 bombs dropped from 2700m. Did we hit anyone? Doubt it. Yes Willi sent another Tommy to his grave, but not because he wanted to, No. There had been another Be2. Willi noticed him shortly after the bomb drop. Quite low almost invisable. The Tommy wanted to cross the lines, but turned back. Had he seen the Roland at 2700m? Did he “Chicken” out? Or had he too seen enough of this madness, the pointless sacrifice day after day. Or perhaps he too was #%&*$# his pants and wanted to live just one more day longer. Either way, Willi decided to let him live.
Another two Be2c's arrived in the area a little later. Willi watched them approach hoping that they also would turn for home. The “Whale Shark” had been known to cause such a thing. But these two were made of sterner metal, no they were determined to go over the top for King and Country. To bad he's willing to pay the funeral costs. With disgust, Willi reduced throttle, and fell in between the two. His observer quickly unloading on the rear aircraft and Willi firing on the forward one. The fight was over in less than ten seconds. Idiots.
The rear most Be2 cleared the lines but went in, and Willis' target fell close to friendly lines. Later he learned that both crew members were also dead. So all in all a good day for the Grimreaper and Kasta 14. Seven dead, seven beers and one hell of a hangover next day.