homepage Forums Air Combat & Civil Aviation Wings: Over Flanders Fields Deep Immersion DiD campaign -- Player Instructions (UPDATED 28 Nov 2018)

Thanks MFair and Fullofit! It really was a pasting we got today, I’m glad I managed to get one of the blighters and better yet actually get a confirmation! But, I’ve shot DORIS down twice still keeps coming back for a fresh one!
I’m gutted I missed Nigel’s attack on Halluin, I guess it was the day we were bombing Bruges!

Take care out there!

Upon his return from Berlin Ganz was surprised with his new paint job for his DII

Real nice ride

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rfc
1 Rfc Sqn
Flanders

10 March 1917.

On the roads albeit Lorrie bumper to Horse drawn wagon , the last of the Sqn is moving. Finish the last of the " Cheese Pottage " and Biscuit so moved on up the Road Net passing the HQ Army Commo Center that was stopped to take and receive messages We do hope to arrive by dawn's early light.

Thanks Carrick. I have not skinned in a while. It was like pulling teeth.

Pulling teeth? So that’s how Swany got his emblem. I guess he’s moonlighting as a Tooth Fairy too. Good to see you skinning MFair.

Carrick, you should stop at some local auberge and get some real food into you. Hope you find your new aerodrome soon.

MFair: Like pulling teeth ?

Full of it: We did pass a Rene's open all night diner a while back.

Carrick, looks like you’ve come across Aunt Sally. Just make sure you don’t eat the Blubell.

Haha! Really great stuff carrick58 and Fullofit! Love the pictures!

MFair, really awesome paint job mate!

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Carrick, that dental picture is painfully reminiscent of when I had my wisdom teeth pulled about a half century ago. A bit too spot on for my liking. As for Rene's all night diner, a baguette and an espresso s'il te plaît et merci.

MFair, that is a fine looking livery on Gunther's mount, well done. And what a handsome fellow he is, he has that war hero look about him.

Seb, ouch! Those are some extreme one-day losses to suffer. The only bright spot, if you can call it such, is that the bulk of those losses were machines rather than men.

Fullofit, Archie actually found the target? That is rare bad luck for Toby, but at least he was spared. Planes can always be repaired or replaced. But what of Booker?

Harry, bad weather is the bane of us all at the moment. However, this too shall pass.


Another dud day at Netheravon, with only a brief window to fly just after sunrise, before the winds and snow picked up yet again. Still plenty to do though as more men and machines are arriving in efforts to bring the squadron up to full strength before heading across to the war.

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Louvert: I lost mine back in the Army days, but it changed the bite. OH man , I still recall my jaw hurting for weeks.

Nigel Farnsworth Philby
Sgt, Rfc
1 Rfc Sqn
Flanders

March 11, 1917.



Finally arrived at Bailleul Asylum our new home. We did see some sights on the way over here. I want to stop and check , but there was always a guard or M.P. ? Yellin Nothing to see hear, Nothing to see.

carrick58, I hope you enjoy your stay at Bailleul Asylum! May the Rum flow and the dentistry be kind.

Lou, It wont be long now 'till you're back in the fray! Looking forward to hearing all about it!

I hope the rest of the gang are well? Happy hunting chaps!

Offizierstellvertreter Sebastian von Toombs GMVK, EK1, EK2
Royal Prussian Jagdstaffel 18
Halluin/Rekkem, Flanders
19 victories
9th March 1917

"...his port upper wing was destroyed and the plane itself went head down into no mans land near Passchendale"

Saturday 10th March 1917

Last night in the mess was a very somber occasion. Most of the Jasta supported some form of minor injury and most of the evening was spent toasting fallen comrades and singing patrotic songs. The ground crew worked furiously most of the night to repair and repaint our aircraft. Those unsung hereos, deserve medals!


I am resolved to work my hardest to end this war as quickly as is possible by giving myself fully to every task at hand. Today was a special assignment from the Kommandant I was determined to give it my all. We needed to destroy a Balloon North of Ypres. There were only five of us fit for flying so we flew in one Kette with no top cover. The C.O. led the flight, though he was badly shaken I can not fault the man he is a real source of comfort,strength and inspiration.



Flying towards target observation balloon. At 0945hrs near Passchendale over no mans land we spotted a formation of three Sopwith Strutters. As a Jasta we engaged. the plane I had singled out tried to evade and escape me a number of times using a number of manoeuvres. His final attempt to escape saw him dive low. While he was doing this I was able to hit him a number of times. Whereupon, his port upper wing was destroyed and the plane itself went head down into no mans land near Passchendale the plane was destroyed on impact. Approximately 2 km from the German sector and 7km from the Allied Observation Balloon south of Ypres.

I continued alone to the Target Observation Ballon north of Ypres. At 10:00 I engage the balloon and it was destroyed on my second pass. It was witnessed by our ground troops and nearby aircraft.

Returning from the Balloon, I was ambushed by six Sopwith Triplanes. I was able to evade all but one of them by flying very low. When I returned our side of the lines, seeing that he was alone I turned to engage the Triplane. We fought over the trenches close to Passchendale. I was able to hit his craft a number of times, damaging his engine so that it was smoking and destroying his middle port wing-tip. He tried to escape for home. I pursued and killed the pilot with short blast of machine gun fire and he crashed exploding into the German trenches close to Passchendale. My Jasta were not close but it was witnessed by the German ground troops and the observation balloon at Passchendale.

"...I was ambushed by six Sopwith Triplanes. I was able to evade all but one of them by flying very low."

Over Menen airfield I had a short tangle with a Nieuport 17 but was very low on ammo so let him escape after firing a number of rounds at him. I landed at Menen airfield, very pleased that although the rest of the squadron returned to Rumbeke after the tangle with the Strutters, I had continued to the target and destroyed it! I felt equally lucky to have survived the Tripe ambush just north of Ypres and even managed to bag one!

When we all finally arrived back at Halluin - myself after a super lunch and smoke at Menen with some delightful chaps from Jasta 27 - the rest of the Kette after a lunch at Rumbeke, news had reached us that my destruction of the observation balloon had been witnessed as had my destruction of the Sopwith Triplane near Passchendale. Sadly, no one could verify the Strutter.

There was a short parade at 18:15 prayers were said for Helmut and Heinrich, and I was promoted to Offizierstellvertreter. It was another proud moment in my life and my spirits lifted somewhat. However, the losses of yesterday are still very fresh for us all and no one at the airfield can escape the consequences of those woeful events. Both Paul and Walter are hobbling around with arms in slings, the Kommandant is limping and the dead nurse from the train dominates my thinking. The chaps slapped my back, and made toasts but all of us were in bed by 22:00. I've written to Kitty tonight to tell her the news and apologize for my sulleness during our time together.



To be continued ...

Lou, enough of stunting over the aerodrome. Time to get your butt over to the other side of the Channel. Don’t forget to bring your pretty plane with you.

Carrick, glad you finally reached your destination. Plenty of junk laying around I see. It’ll take a few days for your guys to clean up this mess.

Seb, congrats on the promotion and the confirmed kills. Looks like Jasta is still licking their wounds, but evading an entire flight of vicious Tripes, that’s something. You are getting the hang of dogfighting these nimble monkeys, but I think that Strutter put up a tougher fight than the Tripe. No one’s safe from von Toombs’ guns.

10 March, 1917 08:45
Furnes, Flanders Sector
RNAS-8
SC Tobias Chester Mulberry VC, DSC&Bar, DSO&Bar, L d’H
74 confirmed kills

Today the orders came to patrol enemy front lines between Menen and Halluin. After following their flightpath and patrolling for what seemed like hours they chanced upon a solitary two-seater close to Halluin. Toby gave the signal to engage and led the attack. While approaching their target they noticed more Huns over the aerodrome. Toby got close enough to the two-seater and took the DFW out west of Halluin before the plane could reach the safety of other planes and the Ack-Ack. He then engaged the rest of the German flight. After a few passes over the airfield he ended up behind another two-seater. Mulberry was reluctant to attack it with enemy scouts roaming about, but after ensuring the Boche biplane was alone and the rest of his flight was taking care of the escort, he pounced. The German crate took a lot of punishment but in the end went down like the first one. Toby quickly switched to one of the Albatros scouts milling about. He was on his tail and firing. The Hun in a very dark blue Albatros, with a white band on the fuselage and yellow wheels and nose was an easy target and after repeated attacks dropped like a rock above Halluin aerodrome. He recovered near the bottom, but his engine caught on fire and he crashed close to the airfield. Toby gathered his wingmen and returned home. He definitely was low on ammo.

YouTube Link

Carrick, glad you made it. That was an adventure.

Seb, ok, where do I start? When I open up to catch on the stories I see a blue Albatros turned into a dirt dart and think “Oh noooo!” Then realize it’s not you. Now you continue over enemy lines alone, not a good idea by the way, and get ambushed by 6 Tripehounds! How you made it back I am sure took skill and bravery but I have to protest. Put a stop to this tomfoolery before we loose you! Oh yes, congratulations on the promotion!

Offstv Gunther Ganz
Jasta 6
Wassigny
March 10, 1917

Ganz made it back to his squadron the night before. He was dead tired. Wulf was still up when he reported in. “Well Herr Ganz, how was your leave?” He asked. Ganz held up his still red and cut hands,”Not much of leave Sir.” He replied. At that Ganz related the story of being bombed on the way to Berlin. “I did meet a fine fellow on the trip. I’m sure you have heard of Sebastian Toombs. He has run up a pretty impressive score in a short time.” Wulf pulled on his cigarette looking toward the ceiling and replied “Ah yes, a real hunter and dead shot!” Ganz added, “and one fine fellow too.”
Wulf stubbed out his smoke and asked “And your parents? Well?”
“Yes Sir, very well. Thank you for asking.” Ganz replied
“Well, good to have you back. Get some rest. We will be taking the fight to the enemy tomorrow.” Wulf said.

The whole squadron was up at 10 am. They were to patrol some 10 miles behind enemy lines from the Somme to west of St. Quentin. Ganz was a bit nervous but felt good to be back in the sky. The nightmare did not return last night and he slept soundly. It was the same since his last mission. He would wake up in a cold sweat after seeing the gunner of the Strutter grinning behind his gun. He could see his eyes behind his goggles. He looked like the devil himself and it seemed every bullet was coming straight at Ganz.
Ganz’s continually scanned the skies for an hour and a half behind the lines but they saw nothing. The Jasta landed and Ganz was suddenly ravenously hungry.

Excellent stuff, Seb and Fullofit! Congrats to you both.

Sadly, I lost Lazlo today. One of those nasty scramble missions. Stupidly, he tangled with one of the new DH4s, got too close and paid the price with a bullet to the heart. It was a good run, but I needed to take a break from things anyhow. RL work is getting a little too busy! At least I had managed to get vid cap working, so you can witness his last moment!

Be safe everyone and try to stay alive to the end!

H

Fullofit, I see Toby is still up to his old tricks! Again, nice flying.

Harry, what can I say. Loved Lazlo’s stories. That’s a gut punch. Take a break and join back when you can.

Harry, that is gutting! It took so long to get a good bead on that DH4 and yet he bagged the fatal shot with his second burst. Not fair. We shall all miss Laszlo. I understand how hard it is to get back in the game after losing a great character. But we really need you here for April.

Seb, MFair, smashing story about the attack on the train.

Seb, the story about your return to the front was sobering. It will be interesting to see the long-term effect of his experiences on von Toombs. He certainly returned to the front with a vengeance. And you are approaching the magic number of 20 victories! Well done.

Carrick, I really enjoyed some of the old photographs that you have dug up. I agree with MFair. As long as there is rum…

MFair, I really love the new livery for your Albatros. I’ve never mastered the art of skinning. Really well done!

Lou, I don’t know if your new livery will scare the Hun but it sure scares me! Can’t wait to see Swany back in action.

Full of it, I think Archie is getting more accurate. Glad to see Toby made it. Collins almost didn’t, as you will read below…

Just when at long last I have some opportunities to fly regularly, the weather sets in and then Collins is injured. I was down to 50 health before the crash and thought it was all over. This spoiled my plans for a squadron transfer. Collins will be out until 27 March.


An Airman’s Odyssey – by Capt James Arthur Collins, VC, DSO, MC

Part One Hundred Five: In which I am observed


Cold, sheeting rain rattled our rooftops all day on 5 March. I caught up in correspondence, receiving and replying to a lovely letter from Thérèse. M. Lefebvre, whom I had appointed as a business agent, had concluded the legal paperwork for the sale of the Pétrus vineyard and business. I wrote to him that I was interested in finding another winery close by Pétrus, one that produced a larger volume of lesser wine. I worried that having all my eggs in one basket could persuade me in a bad year to make unwise decisions that result in damaging the label’s reputation. It seemed to me that reputation would be everything in this business, a point with which Davison wholeheartedly concurred.

The rain lifted enough on the sixth that we were able to fly in the morning. I led Child, Orlebar, and Reed on an escort patrol. We married up with three Quirks from 52 Squadron over Doullens and flew with them on a reconnaissance of the Hun lines west of Cambrai. The patrol was long, boring, and cold. After ninety minutes the BE2s signalled their completion and turned westward for home. As we were forming up, Reed waggled his wings and climbed towards the south-west. About a mile off a lone German two-seater was making its way eastward. Our wards were well on their way so I followed behind with Orlebar and Child. The Hun machine was a DFW type, and its pilot did a fine job of moving it all over the sky to avoid our attack. When Reed broke off I attempted to get under the Hun’s tail, but his observer was able to get a good burst off. Two or three rounds poked through my upper wing and one glanced off my machine gun. Surprised by this accuracy, I broke off. Reed, however, had climbed above and in front of the Hun and surprised him with a diving attack from a forward quarter. Embarrassed by my reluctance to close with the enemy, I turned about – just in time to see the enemy machine falling with a trail of dark smoke behind. This one would cost me a drink!


"Embarrassed by my reluctance to close with the enemy, I turned about – just in time to see the enemy machine falling with a trail of dark smoke behind."

The rain returned the following day. Davison and I drove into Doullens, ostensibly for a provisioning run but in reality to consume tea and cream cakes and dream about having the finest winery in France. Thérèse had written again to say she was having a huge argument with her uncle. It seems that the harsh winter had seriously damaged a good-sized section of vines. M. Arnaud wanted to dig them up and replant as soon the frost was fully out of the ground but Thérèse and François, an older worker who had stayed on, were recommending something called a recépage. Figuring this out required finding an open bookstore with a French-English dictionary. It means cutting-back, and Davison explained the value of saving ancient vines if that were possible. If the suggestion did not work, that land would be wasted for at least a year. I decided I would write Lefebvre and instruct him to have the damaged vines cut back. I anticipated resistance.

On 9 March, I went again with Orlebar and Child over the lines near Arras. There was a Hun rail yard that required strafing. We emptied our guns pointlessly at the sheds and wagons, taking hits in all three of our machines in return. Without bomb racks it was a silly show altogether. But a miss is as good as a mile as they say and we returned to Fienvillers intact.

We awoke on 10 March to a fine drizzle. My shoes, freshly polished, were rubbish by the time I arrived in the mess for a breakfast of half cooked bacon and a slice of bread. At half past nine, the Major arrived and surely informed me that we were to return to the damned railyard and shoot it up some more.
“Are you serious?” I asked. “Are they afraid of having too many scouts over here? Or are they all just too bloody stupid?”

Harvey-Kelly stared at me blankly. His face grew long and serious. “Would you prefer that I led the flight today?” he asked. I shook my head glumly and asked what time we should leave.

We took off at ten forty-five, Harvey-Kelly, Orlebar, Child, and me. I set a direct course for the rail yard, which was close to Douai. We approach the lines at seven thousand feet and then glided gradually down until we were within two miles of our objective. The Archie was heavy but there was nothing to do except put the nose down and ignore it. I saw few troops about the yard and only three or four wagons. I selected a large shed and, with a mix heavy on Buckinghams, I prepared to fire. Suddenly my machine was thrown sideways. Without thinking about the possible consequences I pulled hard on the stick climbing out of the dive and turning away to the left. My ears were ringing. Several large tears had appeared in the upper wing. The engine sounded odd and I could smell petrol. A grey vapour trail followed my Spad. I did not dare to fire a Very light and instead simply climbed to the west. The lines were some five miles away.

I felt dizzy. There is something definitely going wrong with the Hisso. The revs were unsteady and odd noises came out of the thing. I climbed to about four thousand feet and levelled off. The engine temperature was rising. One more mile and I could switch off safely. My eyes were riveted to the faint silvery lines of wire that marked our forward positions. The engine began to fail and I switched off.

I probably would have heard the Spandaus with the engine on; with the thing shut off the noise made me jump against the restraining seat belt. I kicked the rudder bar. Could I still make it? Rounds hammered into my machine. I kicked the rudder bar to the right. More rounds. I looked back. Two Albatri. One circling back for another go at me. But the other was diving on me for another go. More rounds, and then a searing burn on my left calf, like a cut from a hot knife. I felt blood on my ankle. Right inner forward strut shattered. I kicked the rudder bar again, jinking left. More rounds. The ground coming up quickly. Impact.


"But the other was diving on me for another go."

I came to on a stretcher, shivering with cold. I felt ill. There were people about, or so I could sense. I was focused only on a muddy heel print a few inches from my face. Then I heard a voice. “Right, you lot. Put those out and get this gentleman the f___ out of here.” I was alive. And they didn’t speak German.

The rest of the day was a bit of a blur. I spent some time at a regimental aid post and then was moved to a muddy verge outside a shattered building near Arras. From there I was taken by ambulance to a casualty clearing station at a place called Agnez-lès-Duisans. The doctors there repaired my leg wound. It had felt far worse than it really was. It was my head that gave me the most problem. I continue to feel sick to my stomach and my vision was blurred. There was talk of invaliding me to a base hospital or even back to England. But for now I was to be kept and observed.

Fullofit: U are so lucky. If that Albatross was un damaged On Ur 1st pass ,Pilot not wnd. U were Cold Meat on the table when he passed ur 6 or when was higher than U off ur 6. the next time around.

Raine: Thanks thats part of the fun. Research old photos and place them in the story. or drinks or food.

Harry H: A rough time., but the vid was great. sorry about ur pilot