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

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Yes, well, had we been really clever we would have combined both and gone with Foraging. But we weren't that clever.

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I’m glad you didn’t, otherwise everyone would be asking Y?

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hee hee - yeah, probably. That pesky letter just wouldn't fit in.


You know, after saying them out loud, Gonfa and Giry sound like a pair of monsters from one of the later Godzilla movies.

“OH NO! It’s a’ Gonfa and a’ Giry! If they are not stopped they will a’ destroy Tokyo!”

“Look! It’s a’ Godzilla! HEEEE will save us!”

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It DOES sound like that, but why are the Japanese speaking with an Italian accent?
Besides, Godzilla doesn’t deal with these lightweight monsters. That job is left up to Gamera.

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It's a spaghetti Godzilla movie: Sergio Leone's "A Fistful of Monsters".

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That makes sense. And I would go see that movie in a bankrupt due to COVID cinema.

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Me too, in a heartbeat! Socially distanced of course, and wearing proper face covering. I'll be the one in the Giry mask.

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Oh, and I'll be there early, foraging for Gummy 'Y's at the snack bar before the movie starts.

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That’s a monster snack! I’d probably bring my own spaghetti. Meatballs on the side. Would you still cheer for Godzilla, or stick to Giry, despite his nefarious intentions and popular dislike?

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With grated Parmesan cheese I hope. As for who to cheer for, traditionally it would be Godzilla. But as anyone familiar with Sergio Leone's cinematic masterpieces knows, he holds up the anti-heroes as the ones to champion. So yeah, I'm sticking with Giry.

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I gotcha. It's not at all drivel to me (but I get your meaning). In fact, I read it because I find it to be interesting; to me there's actually good writing in here! (Not that I know cr@p about 'real' writing, mind you).

3 October, 1917 09:45 morning mission
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM
58 confirmed kills

This is a new low. From the last eight claims ... one has been confirmed. Zygmunt wondered if it mattered anymore.
Just before their morning briefing to discuss the mission the air raid bell began to ring out. They soon were in their aeroplanes and climbing? As they pierced through the cloud layer, they were greeted by an attacking Brisfit. Zygmunt was one of the last ones to get a crack at him and in the end brought the agile bomber down in flames near Menen.

YouTube Link



After watching the Britisher go down and crash they spotted a hive of dots above. Schwarm Zwei was closer and engaged the enemy first. Zygmunt was a spectator at this time. As they closed in he could see the other flight was battling Camels. The large scrap exploded all around him. Hahn continued to observe and search for a target. He found one that didn’t engage but continued to circle above the battle. Ziggy had his target. He came up from behind without being spotted and opened fire. The Camel continued to fly straight and level which indicated to him it had to be a rookie who was ordered to stay high and learn. Well, classes have been cancelled and the student was falling to his doom close to Ceurne.

YouTube Link



While trying to rejoin the main fight Ziggy noticed another Camel trying to slink back home. He caught up with him near Menen outskirts and brought it down. The rest of the flight was also done fighting and the survivors on both sides returned to their respective bases

YouTube Link



3 October, 1917 16:00 afternoon mission
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM AO
58 confirmed kills
Awaiting three claim confirmations

A dignitary from Saxony arrived at noon and presented Zygmunt with the Albert Order. This particular class was the Knight’s Cross 2nd Class with Swords. The dignitary didn’t fail to mention the swords were given for bravery. Ziggy was grateful for the recognition. It significantly softened the blow from this morning claim rejections.

At 16:00 Schwarm Eins and Zwei were sent to patrol enemy front lines between Ypres and Menen. Once over the front they encountered two pairs of Strutters flying above. The enemy machines began to turn back and attempt an escape, but the Albatrosen were quicker and the two-seaters were forced to fight. Zygmunt climbed on the tail of one but another Sopwith came down behind him. What cheek! The two machines began their familiar dance, which was soon interrupted by SPADs. They must have been their escort that was running late. They were here now however wreaking havoc. Strutters were soon forgotten as this more pressing matter of the SPADs had to be dealt with. Four of them went down to Zygmunt’s guns.

YouTube Link

Lou - Some superb work on the new raft of Gongs for the Central powers. Many thanks to you and Raine for the bar to Oliver's DSO.

Fullofit - Ack. Verdammt engine seizures, they spread like this Spamish Flu. So Ziggy awaits 6 confirmations now? Steinmesser's hooks are set deep already. Eagerly awaiting the results as I'm sure Ziggy is too. Congrats on the Albrechtkreuz.

Led - glad to see Willi's efforts acknowledged. When will he return to the fray? Oliver ran into his old Jasta the other day and was releived to see no sign of Black 5.

Raine - The half century mark stand within reach! Does this new award make Vogel an honorary member of the Hanseatic League? Will Vogel go shooting in Elmer Fudd style hunting clothes like in that Biedermier painting that I can't find?

Carrick - Naughty Chien, chewing through Marcel's cable like that. Hope you're back at it soon.

KK - a very generous offer of aid to Carrick. <S> I'll echo Fullofit, it's good to see there are a few lurkers here reading our tales.

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À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 31 of many


(continued from earlier entry)

Early morning of September 24th. Sleep proves elusive. My mind goes over the events of the evening patrol again and again. I shall try to recount them here, but the order of things remains cloudy. It must have been him. Who else could fly like the demon in the Triplane?


I dreamed the moment so many times. The will of Zeus accomplished.


“unhappy are they whose sons match warcraft against me.”

Our September evening patrol was 12 SEs in all. C Flight and B Flight plus myself. I flew the outermost right end of the wedge formation. The low cloud bank sat near 9000 feet with thin wispy layers at various lower altitudes. I’d rarely seen so many planes aloft. Everybody, both British and German were under the main cloud layer. McCudden led B flight south from the Houlthust Forest at 7000 feet. We were perfectly silhouetted against the clouds and Archie let us have it. Found a DFW and followed Mac in. He started firing 150 yards out and continued until he was within 20-30 yards. The stricken Hun went straight down to crash NE of Houthem. I had no need to fire my guns.

The low cloud ceiling pushed an extraordinary number of aeroplanes into a more confined space. All these machines milling about, wheeling like chariots, skirmishing, challenging, then drawing back to the protective shields of their comrades. The Plains of Troy come to the skies of France.

As we headed back north towards the main mass of aeroplanes, Mac lined us up to attack a group of 6 V-strutters but changed his mind and we went to the rescue of an SE under attack from a Triplane.

We dove to attack. Arthur and Mac caught the Triplane in a bracket. Unperturbed, the Hun turned almost in a pirouette firing at the SEs as they passed. Masterful, otherworldly flying.

“Who among mortal men are you, good friend?
Since never before have I seen you in the fighting where men win glory,
yet now you have come striding far out in front of all others,
in your great heart, who have dared to stand up to my spear far-shadowing.
Yet unhappy are those whose sons match warcraft against me.”

One Triplane vaunting forward, soon joined by two bright green companion Albatri, their noses red like blood. At last, we come to grips. It had to be Voss!

“Hear me now, Atrytone, daughter of Zeus of the aegis:
if ever before in kindness you stood by my father
through the terror of fighting, be my friend now also, Athene;
grant me that I may come within spearcast and kill this man ...”

By now the Triplane was in the middle of our formation firing at all of us. He zoomed up and for an instant hung above the fight. I had him. He didn’t see me there. I was invisible to him, as if I were a fiction who didn’t exist in his world.


At last! I pressed both triggers at 50 yards. Silence. He snapped off left to attack the others.

Cursing my luck, if luck it was, I drew away to clear the stoppages. With the Lewis gun pulled down B35 waddled though the air, its slipstream distorted. I pulled the charging handle to eject the offending round and it moved effortlessly. The cartridge bounced off my glove and fell to the cockpit floor. The same thing with the Vickers! Easily ejected. There was no jam in either gun.

I returned to the fight. The two green Albatri were gone. Only the Triplane remained in the center of a maelstrom of tracer, seemingly invulnerable, whirling, wheeling, and firing as if exempt from the laws of physics. I circled, waiting for the right moment to reengage, fearful of colliding. He passed broadside to Beery Bowman, half spinning the Triplane to fire as he skidded past, then kicked opposite rudder before the results of this amazing stunt could have any effect on the flight of his machine. Unbelievable! Also fatal. Beery’s attack distracted him just long enough for Arthur to get on his tail with a long burst. For the first time the Triplane flew straight, then turned under as Arthur zoomed up over him, dove again and fired at 20-30 yards range. The Triplane glided down at shallow angle then turned on its back just before crashing inside our lines.


Not by my hand would he go to Hades of the Gates, yet fateful portions of death, which lays men prostrate, were set upon the golden scales and Voss’ death day proved the heavier.

The pilot of that Triplane, it could only have been Voss, fought seven of us for nearly ten minutes and sent 3 limping away. I’d never seen such mastery of a flying machine.
Could I have defeated him in single combat this day, he in his Triplane and I in my SE? He would have killed me. Yet striding forward as he did into the strength of 56 he met his doom. Glorious. Magnificent. Futile. For as long as men fight in aeroplanes they will sing of his last stand. D*mn him. Why did he have to make such a legendary end? I hope it wasn’t clean, his death. I hope he knew he was going to die.

When I landed at Estrée all was confusion. Cronyn, who'd been knocked out of the fight early sat in a daze, deeply shaken. Arthur was so excited that his stammer returned and for the space of five minutes he couldn’t speak coherently. I found the intact cartridge on the cockpit floor, the one ejected from the Lewis gun. It looked perfect but for the dimple of the firing pin in the primer. I could only assume the same for the Vickers round sent over the side. Hah! Tell me the Gods no longer takes sides in the wars of men.

Much speculation at dinner as to the identity of our opponent. It had to be Voss, there could be no other possibility, however, my opinion was not universally shared. Some thought Von Richthofen , others thought Wolff. The atmosphere was one of congratulations to Arthur.

“Oh if only I could have brought him down alive.” said Arthur in response. I nearly gave voice to an acid retort but thought better of it and kept silent. His was a sentiment shared by the others who’d been in the fight. We were all subdued but for different reasons. I admired the skill and courage of Voss even if I despised the man.

In the anteroom well afterwards when Arthur said it again, I couldn’t stop myself.

“And if you had done so, Arthur, what then? Would we host the man in our mess, drink his health and say, ‘good show, old top, well played?’ Go next door and say those words to 22 Squadron. I doubt they’ll share your regret. Voss killed their comrades and strafed ones who were down behind German lines. Others too, the strafing I mean.
“You have a generous spirit, I see why you might wish it so, but I thank the Gods you didn’t bring him down alive. You knew it that day I shot down the Baron, or whoever that was, remember? This man was the Hun I had in mind and yes, it was personal. He killed my friend, gravely wounded two others, and sent yet another to Karlsruhe. I only wish I’d been the one to slay him, but it’s done now, and I’m free of it. I say thank you, Arthur.”

No sooner had I uttered the words then I knew it to be true. As when a tug, pulling a fully laden barge, parts its tow rope and suddenly surges free of the burden, so too was I released. The weighty cargo of vengeance I’d pulled so long now floated adrift behind me.

Marcel Gilbare

loose in Paris at last, I have to report back to Zee Esc late on the 3rd so its The City of lights to night. There ' s so many clubs and so little time.

À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 32 of many



24 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France


Little sleep last night but when it came, I dreamed of Pixley. We were standing on a riverbank watching the rowers and singing that stupid boating song he taught me. “There will be a test later, Ripper.”

6.00 Escort 3 Harry Tates from RFC – 16 on a recce of the lines. Ledegen to the Lys. A Flight was Maybery, Sloley, Turnbull, Hoidge and Maxwell.

Over the Ypres Menin Road, 7 Black tails attacked.



Punching through the formation, I reversed when two Huns attacked me. I broke hard right and heard the soft pitter-patter of 2 MG bullets dancing harmlessly through canvas and then an ominous metallic clank. Oil sprayed on my windscreen and the Hispano commenced a gargling death rattle. Time to go while I still had power.


I continued my break not caring how much speed I lost and shook the Huns loose.


Putting the nose straight down I left the throttle wide open and commenced a full power dive.

The Albs did not follow.



Bouncing along the field I had one hand on the joystick and with the other pulled the D-ring release on Sutton’s harness. I was out of B35 like a rabbit before it came to rest but there was no need. Smoke, lots of it, but no flames. I retrieved my maps and the watch from its case and headed to the nearby farmhouse.

Grandpa Marson sent a retrieval crew. When I returned to Estrée-Blanche at 1.00 the message from RFC HQ confirmed what I already knew. It was Voss in that Triplane.


3.00 Attack the aerodrome at Iseghem. On climb out an oil seal burst. Another Hispano rendered hôrs de combat.



Landed safely at Estrée-Blanche.

A Major Baring from RFC HQ visited the squadron today seeking a more detailed account of the Voss fight. I recognized him and his falling monocle from my DSO investiture. He remembered me as well, and with some amusement it seems. I had little to tell him that the others could not.
“You’ve done well, Winningstad” he said. “Your exploits do not go unnoticed.”

Was that a good thing? Had the GOC remembered my outburst to the King? “Make a note of that, Baring.” Too late to worry about it now.

No word on the DFW from yesterday but the DIII and the DV were confirmed. Sixty-one.


25 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France


New Squadron Markings ordered by RFC HQ. Out with the nearly invisible dumb bell, in with a white tail band. Much better.



5.45 A flight had unfinished busines with Iseghem aerodrome. Turnbull, Sloley, Maxwell, Hoidge and Jeffs.



Circled the rally point over the Menen Road, west of the lines. After 15 minutes A Flight was back together, and we turned for home. I was flying a zig-zag course, tacking to keep from flying directly down sun. Two dots just under the sun, trailing us. I throttled down to draw them in as we slowly altered course to the North, then reversed and drove straight at them.


Magpies!

It wasn’t long before the Huns ran for their lines.


I sent one down over the Ypres-Menen road. Turnbull got the other.


12.45 Escort two RFC-53 Harry Tates on photo reconnaissance of the lines from Arras to the Bapaume-Cambrai road. Maybery, Turnbull, Sloley and Jeffs.

One of the Harry Tates fell out en route. Our approach brought us over the fiendishly accurate Flakbatterie near Riencourt. Those Huns had caused me much grief during my time with 56. Kaiser Bill’s men were in good form and gave us a hot welcome.

Patrol completed we followed the remaining Harry Tate northeast when a flight of 4 Albatri heading south flew directly overhead.



They went right past and kept going!

We turned to follow and were within half a mile when they deigned to notice our presence.


The Hun flew and fought well but I’d hit his engine. He trailed smoke as he ran east.


My second sustained burst hit the petrol tank and the Albatros burst into flame.

Returned to Estrée-Blanche.

The evening patrol returned in high spirits. Barlow felled three Huns today in as many minutes! A brilliant Hat Trick.

The DFW from the 23rd and today's 2 Albatri confirmed. Sixty-four.




26 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

5.40 Line patrol over Old Mossy Face, from the Bapaume-Cambrai road to the Peronne-Cambrai road.



Marksmanship poor this morning. Couldn’t get a decent shot.



1.00 Attack on the Vimy Rail Junction. Lost Hoidge to a dud engine just after takeoff. Three passes and we left the shed and station building on fire.

General Trenchard sent a telegram today to Barlow, congratulating him on yesterday’s hat trick.
“Congratulate you on doing the hat trick yesterday. It was splendid work.” Indeed it was. I was happy for our ‘Gadget King.’ Barlow is a first-rate pilot and a very decent fellow. Couldn’t help but think of my 7 Huns on September 15-16 which went unremarked by higher command. No matter, or rather it shouldn't matter.... but it does.



27 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

5.50 Deep Offensive patrol. Crisp clear morning. All hell broke loose in the Hispano 2 minutes after takeoff. Metallic groaning and oil vomited all over the windscreen. I’d sufficient revs to get back near the airfield before the engine seized. Glided down to a safe, if wrong way, landing.



11.30 On standby when a message came warning of Huns over the lines east of Arras. Weaving our way through a maze of towering cumulus we arrived on scene only to be overflown.


A septet of Albatri.


Through the clouds I fought an Albatros with green stripes on his yellow tail plane.

Something familiar about this one. Maybe I’d seen him before. He flew very well and out turned B35, forcing me to dive and zoom to keep him from getting behind me. I went very low trying to lure him into a dive. He took the bait. I zoomed immediately and came round with speed, height, and a better angle. He broke east after my first salvo splashed him. Down through the clouds we went.

I lost him against the blood brown mud of No Man’s Land so I kept working east, searching.

There he was! I gave chase.

An SE dove on him from height then circled back to me. Hoidge!


We caught the Hun near Oppy. There, he fell thunderously.

Circled the rally point with Hoidge. Found Sloley and Jeffs. After completing our time on station we swept east at 14000 feet but found no Huns.

Wing denied the Albatros. Nine confirmations in a row to this point but the streak was finally ended.

An afternoon free, spent working the bag. Caught up on letters and one I’d put off long enough. It was time, but what to say...?.

Marcel Jules Gilbare
Adjutant
ESC. 15 GC 13
Senard, Verdun
1 Victory
5 Unconfirmed

Sep 4th 1917.

I only just came back and they threw me into the fire.

Dawn Patrol 2 Section a Flight of 4 and I was the flight leader. Near end of Patrol spotted a flight of 3 Albatross types , down we went guns barking then level and head on. Truly a mess of charging fighters, None for me, but the flight claimed 2 for no losses.

Mr Power,
I can't tell you how much this series, and your telling of it, means to me. This is why we, and me in particular, started out on this odyssey so many years ago; to build a world long gone, and to pay tribute to men, famous and anonymous, long vanished into the shadows; to bring them back into the light of day, if only in our imaginations. And you are doing it brilliantly.
Cheers,
shredward

Epower, I agree with Shredward, masterfully done. And that double misfire was an icing on the cake. Well done, Sir! And congrats on hitting 60! That is some achievement. Great screenies and tough luck with all those engine failures. Time to talk with the mechanics. As to Ziggy’s claims, have a look yourself.

Carrick, you’re finally getting some use out of that SPAD. Go get them!

4 October, 1917 09:45
Ceurne, Flanders Sector
Jasta 36
Oberleutnant Zygmunt Dolf Hahn EK2 EK1 HHO PLM AO
61 confirmed kills

Three claims have been confirmed: the Bristol and one Camel from morning’s mission and one SPAD from the afternoon.
Defence over Ingelmunster.
Followed a pair of Strutters returning home. One of them was lagging behind, most likely with engine problems. Ziggy caught up to him first and sent him down in flames after two bursts.

YouTube Link

Shredward - Many thanks. That means a lot coming from you. My colleagues here all set the bar very high. Without their inspiring example, and in many cases their direct help on matters historical, Oliver's tale would long ago have fallen by the wayside.

Fullofit - Thank you kindly. When I started this mad campaign, I never even imagined 30 much less 60. The engine failures are alarming to say the least, but so far I've only had one over Hunland. Crawling along at 80% throttle, eyes wandering nervously to the temperature gauge is SOP now. Yikes. I must learn your excellent McCuddenesque 2-seater technique. Nicely done there. Oliver is still getting ventilated attacking those pesky DFWs and Rumplers.

Carrick - Marcel back at it kicking derriere in his new SPAD. Excellent.



À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 33 of many




28 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

11.00 Mid-morning Line Patrol from Neuve-Chapelle to Lens. No Huns to be found. Time expired we went north looking for trouble. Found it over Menin – a DFW.


He fell in flames Northeast of Menin aerodrome.

Afternoon job was a defensive Patrol north of Polygon wood. No Huns sighted.

A letter from Stewpot today with wonderful news. Hudson is alive and a prisoner! I pity those prison guards for the mischief that Babe will get up to. Hudson is alive!

Number 84 Squadron moved in last week and were our guests for dinner tonight. They too fly the SE5. Their Commanding Officer, Major Sholto Douglas cut quite a dashing figure. He was most affable when we spoke and very complimentary of my success in the air. An easy man to speak with and his officers clearly held him in high regard and yet... there was something about him that gave me pause. I can’t say what it was exactly, just the tiniest feeling of unease and whispered voice of warning in my mind.




29 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France

5.45 A flight have the early show. Patrol of our lines from Athies to Bethune. Young, Turnbull, Sloley Hoidge and Jeffs. Reached the mud at 11,000 feet. On the first circuit north over Vimy Ridge, I spied two Albatri 1000 feet below.


Magpie! An old acquaintance from Jasta 26

I had the advantage from the start and kept with him through all his desperate spinning and scissoring down to 1000 feet. When he finally flattened out, I put 40 rounds into his cockpit.


“He dropped then from the chariot and his armor clattered upon him.”

Turnbull was with me. We formed up and headed west to our lines. Two Albs burst from a nearby cloud, intent of avenging their fallen comrade. Both fell on me. I lost sight of Turnbull. After two circles with the vengeful Magpies I saw a second flight of Albatri arriving overhead. Time to go.

Not much altitude to trade for speed.


I pointed B35 due West and fled across the mud. The Magpies followed.

The Hispano was not making full revs. At 2000 feet I barely topped 120 mph. I should have had 130 mph at least. I dragged the Huns toward the balloon battery near Mt. St Eloi aerodrome. I thought one dropped off but couldn’t be certain. On to the aerodrome itself, one Hun in trail.


I’d enough separation now and was tired of running.

The Hun turned flat, I looped vertically and was on him.


The Archie boys were cutting things awfully fine.

20 rounds at close range sent him slipping off to the left. His dive steepened and he crashed near the outskirts of Mt. St. Eloi. I searched in vain for Turnbull. After 15 minutes of circling I returned to Estrée-Blanche. Turnbull and the others arrived five minutes later.

After Breakfast, Maybery defeated McCudden for the Squadron Ping Pong Championship.

At lunch, news that Maybery and Hoidge have bars to their MCs!

1.30 A flight would attack Jabbeke aerodrome in the Zerkegem triangle. Not an assignment conducive to felling Huns but there it was. With Maxwell, Hoidge, Jeffs and Sloley we went low and fast across the lines. More stoppages from my Lewis gun. Cleared the jam and completed my third attack run.


Two hangars smoking, a storage building destroyed and their Kasino shot to pieces. Prost!

Reformed the flight, grabbed for the lines then turned south toward Passchendaele and on to Menin. One high dot, no archie puffs. Down came a single red nosed Albatros. Jasta 11?



I shot him up badly. He spun down apparently out of control, but at the last minute flattened out and landed smoking but intact at Rumbeke aerodrome. Well played, Fritz. You live another day.

The evening dispatch rider brought good news. Yesterday’s DFW and the two Magpies from this morning, all confirmed. I have 68 victories and the Squadron tally now stands at 197. Three more kills and we’ll have our 200th Hun.

At dinner, McCudden insisted on the right of B Flight to go out on the early patrol. This caused some chatter, mostly among the newer men but I thought it fair, as it was B flight’s turn on the early job as part of the normal rotation. Fair or not, I was silently wishing them an empty bag. I do hope A Flight can get the 200th Hun tomorrow.



30 September 1917
56 Squadron RFC
Estrée-Blanche, France


5.50 Another attack on Jabbeke aerodrome. These orders might doom A Flight’s chances of bagging Hun No. 200. We’d need to find our quarry on the return trip.



My first pass left a stockpile of supplies burning. Gun jams on subsequent attacks limited my impact but the rest of A Flight gave Jabbeke a good hiding. Two hangars smoking, and a supply cache ablaze.

Gathered the flight and climbed for the lines. When we reached the mud, I took us south looking for trouble but found nothing. Neither did B or C Flights. Poor weather scuppered the midday and early afternoon patrols, although Major Blomfield did authorize an unusual number of “Special Missions.”

When A flight set out on the late afternoon job at 3.45, the score remained at 197 Huns. With Maxwell, Jeffs, Johnson and Young, we set out to patrol the lines southeast of the Arras-Cambrai road. After an hour and no Huns I took us east on a sweep. Empty skies. Returning to the lines over Menin and nearing our return time we spotted Huns at last. Four Albatri at our same altitude, their fuselages painted entirely black. I caught one with 20 rounds from both guns. He stopped maneuvering and fell into a shallow descent. I followed looking to fire again but there was no need.


Hun number 198? Time 4.55

Reformed and continued patrolling. Moving west we ran into five Albatri. Furious scrap. Jeffs sent one down out of control. I watched it for several thousand feet but couldn’t see if it crashed. Two Albs made for hot work. Young cleared one off me then sent the other down on its back, clearly out of control.


Maxwell put a full drum of Lewis into his Hun. Was this 200? Time 5.30

Couldn’t confirm Jeff’s Albatros as nobody saw it crash. Young’s claim too did not go forward. I thought this unfair as his Hun was clearly not recovering from the inverted dive but Major Blomfield remained unmoved. Maxwell’s Albatros was confirmed as was mine. Sixty-eight Huns now. The 200th Hun was just a matter of B or C flight’s tally and the timing.

Grandpa had his work cut out for him. It wasn’t until Hoidge and Bowman returned at 7.00 and Sloley made it back from La Lovie where he’d been forced to land that we knew the result. Final standings were as follows:

Winningstad, DV at 4.55 – Hun #198
Maybery, Pfalz DIII at 5.00 – Hun #199
Maxwell, Albatros DV at 5.30 – Hun #200

Maxwell and A flight had the honor!

In the evening darkness the entire squadron assembled outside the sheds. Major Blomfield issued the entire stock of Very lights to Officers, NCOs and Men alike, and at his command forty red, green and white lights illuminated the countryside for miles.

A splendid dinner followed, complete with orchestra and more than the usual number of speeches. We all felt intensely proud of what we and all of 56 squadron had achieved.

Attention!



His Majesty King George V hereby confers the following honour:



A grateful people thank you for your service and loyalty.