Lou - Looking forward to Freddy's exploits in his new flying jalopy. That extra power at altitude could be vital, the one thing the Camel couldn't really do was race away.
2nd Lieutenant Andrew Murphy 22nd Aero Toul airfield
3 confirmed kills (awaiting two confirmations)
31st August 1918
Morning sortie
The Major took the briefing and began with the news that Bapaume had been taken by the allies. He explained that the town was vital thanks to the road network which would allow rapid transport of troops and material. Once the furore had quietened down he confirmed that the squadron would be heading to the lines north of Toul.
The weather was excellent again with only whispy clouds around and they were too high to worry about.
The dozen or so SPADs of 'A' and 'B' flights took off and formed up. They headed north once they'd climbed up over 10000 feet.
They reached the lines and turned east along them before returning. All was clear until they were literally about to turn for home.
Andrew saw a large formation ahead and above him. They were heading the wrong way and over the lines so he paid them no further attention.
'B' flight had now turned for home with Andrew at the back of the arrowhead formation.
After a couple of minutes something made Andrew look around and as he did he saw a DVII bearing down on him. The red and white Hun fired but Andrew rolled just in time, a couple of rounds hit his left wing but he pulled a tight turn and dived.
The Fokker went with him as the other pilots of 'B' flight reacted.
By now though Andrew and the Fokker were way below them. The Fokker fired again and again clipped Andrew's left wing as he turned away.
He dived down and was racing at around 200mph as he glanced behind. The Fokker was left behind but still chased him. Andrew used his speed to zoom climb up and around and as the Fokker desperately tried to climb up after him he rolled and dived down across the Fokker. For a moment the Hun appeared in front of Andrew's sights and he fired, hitting the DVII with a decent little burst.
He climbed up again and the saw the Fokker had had enough and was running for the lines.
"No chance, you're not going home!" said Andrew to no-one in particular.
He raced down after the DVII and caught up. He poured bullets into fleeing Fritz and as the Fokker tried to climb away, he blasted him again. Andrew watched as the Hun rolled over and went straight into the ground.
Andrew took a long deep breath and looked around. He saw no other enemy aircraft but several SPADs were circling above him. He climbed up and formed back up with them and together they headed home.
They all landed safely and went to make their reports.
Afternoon sortie (awaiting three confirmations)
The afternoon sortie would be a jaunt over the lines to Thiaucourt airfield and Captain Tyndall led 'B' flight as Major Hayes led 'A'.
The weather was still excellent and the ground was hot as Andrew took off with the others and headed north west.
They crossed the lines at 15000 feet and could see Thiaucourt off in the hazy distance.
As they approached the airfield, several members of 'B' flight turned left and dived down. Andrew scoured the landscape and eventually saw what the commotion was about. A large formation of enemy aircraft approaching Thiaucourt airfield.
Now 'A' flight had seen them too and were diving down. Andrew saw the enemy aircraft were Fokker DVII's, the same red and white aircraft as this morning. He chose a target and dived down onto the Hun.
The Fokkers had now seen the incoming aircraft and split up but Andrew carried on after his intended victim. He boared down on the German and blasted him. The Hun tried to roll away but was too low and had nowhere to go. Andrew came back up and then dived again as the DVII desperately tried to reach Thiaucourt. He fired a long accurate burst which struck the pilot, leaving him sprawled over his controls. The enemy aircraft nosed down and went into the ground.
Andrew checked around saw another Fokker ahead and above. He climbed up quickly and came up behind the Hun. He lined up and hit the enemy with a devastating burst. Another burst had smoke pouring from the engine and then a final flurry took the pilot out. The Fokker went straight down into the ground and exploded.
Andrew couldn't see any more enemy aircraft so climbed back towards the lines. Some more SPADs were nearby and he formed up. They headed home and landed 20 minutes later.
Seven Fokkers had been downed and although two SPADs were destroyed, the pilots had made it across the lines. Both Jacques Swaab and Remington Vernam were ok.
The Major had called Andrew into his office after dinner. He congratulated the Lieutenant on his performance these last few days. He also confirmed three of Andrew's five outstanding claims. One of the Rumplers from yesterday, the DVII from this morning and one of the DVII's from this afternoon had been confirmed. The others had been rejected.
This brought his total to six confirmed kills.
The two pilots arrived back in the early evening and celebrated in the mess later.
EOM stats
2nd Lieutenant Andrew Murphy 22nd Aero Toul airfield
9 missions 6.75 hours 11 claims 6 confirmed kills
"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
Albert, true. Bionic sight extends to all except your wingmen. Such is war, where you are the ultimate warrior and are expected to win it on your own. As to the claims office, it looks like more people have been hired to process all claims. Finally all those kills will be justly awarded. One can wish. I’m okay with Spandau fodder, but it’s the SPAD that can’t deal with unfavourable odds. The rest of his Jasta just needs more guns. Guns that will shoot in all directions and perhaps hit the enemy accidentally.
Any chance 22nd Aero will be moving closer to the front? Klaus hasn’t seen Andrew and his friends in the air yet. It would be nice to give them a warm welcome. It looked like some of Jasta 18 have tried and failed already. What was he doing this deep into enemy territory anyway? Then, an entire Kette of Fokkers went down to Murphy and his wingmates in the afternoon. It is always satisfying to catch the enemy at a lower altitude. And what do you know, Andrew’s an Ace now! Congrats. Those lucky pilots that have been shot down behind enemy lines made it back just in time for the celebrations. Well done!
Lou, Klaus has no choice. If he doesn’t bring down the enemy, who will? So, while Freddy coddles and cossets his Snipe the war continues without him. Let’s hope he won’t be afraid to get a few holes in it. Looking forward to a battle report in the near future.
31 August, 1918 06:45 morning mission Montingen, Verdun Sector Jasta 18 Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Fokker D.VII 101 confirmed kills
Something IS going on at the claims office. Did they enlist women or just men that can count now? This latest batch brings Klaus to 101 confirmed victories and with that he is promoted to the rank of Rittmeister. The morning brings new orders to patrol behind friendly lines, above Mars-la-Tour aerodrome. This was Schwarm Eins show. They’ve arrived over the airfield first and engaged the approaching SPADs. Schwarm Zwei was on cleanup duty and only picked up stragglers. Klaus bagged one after an aerobatic engagement.
31 August, 1918 13:40 afternoon mission Montingen, Verdun Sector Jasta 18 Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Fokker D.VII 101 confirmed kills Awaiting one claim confirmation
In the afternoon Schwarm Zwei was sent to patrol friendly front lines between Marbache and Malzeville. As they were getting ready for their takeoff an enormous formation of friendly aeroplanes overflew the field at low altitude.
Klaus was sure their airfield will be safe but he wished some of them could escort the Jasta on their patrol. Instead, they had to go it alone and once they were in sight of the Front, a flight of SPADs descended on them. Klaus would not allow them to simply come and just shoot them down. He positioned his plane so that the enemy would never have a clear view of his rear. One of the SPADs became impatient and descended to take care of Klaus, but he soon found out it was easier said than done when his wing suddenly departed after Raben made judicious use of his Spandaus.
Confirmation of the morning kill arrived that evening. The afternoon claim was denied. August organized a bash for Klaus’ hundredth kill, but with the shortages he could only scrounge one keg of beer, half a case of bad vintage champagne and two bottles of cognac. Potato dumplings in gravy and sausages of dubious origin rounded out this extravagant feast.
End of month stats:
Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Jasta 18 Montingen, Verdun Sector Fokker D.VII
122 missions 92.98 hrs 102 victories 179 claims
"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."
Fullofit - Unfortunately, indeed. Baptiste has died right after getting what he wanted in life. Such is fate I suppose! That and his own hatred for two seaters. No plane painting for him unfortunately, but oh well! You're right in regards to the fokker though, that is lovely. As for the friendly fire. Seems to be a fokker coming in from above and then pulling to the right. Friendly fire indeed. Now onto Klaus. Despite his successes with those SPADs, including running out of bullets at the worst possible time, albeit luckily to no real bad effect, plus later one some more tangles with American now leading up to a little challenge with Klaus' cousin, hm? Well, seems like Klaus won that. Good god though, that... That scoreboard. That's just dreadful. How can they be so useless, good god!? Seems like Klaus gets rewarded for putting up with it though with all those confirmations and even a promotion! Congratulations, well deserved. To celebrate Klaus gets himself some more SPADs it seems, but now less luck. Only one gets confirmed, alas. At least the celebration with shortages worked out alright!
Carrick - Sounds like it certainly was quite a messy fight! Congratulations on the kill though! What a shame it got confirmed. I suppose more wine is the solution
Tross - And here it is. So that first sortie has seen a pretty stressful moment for Andrew it seems with how that Fokker had him at first! Luckily he got outdone and got his well deserved punished in the form of being downed. It really would've been a shame to let him run after that. Afternoon brought more fokkers, and despite rejections that's six now! Well congratulations on becoming an ace to Andrew! The celebration is certainly warranted.
RAF - Unfortunate as it is, the curse can't be helped! Hopefully these planes will definitely be used for good.
And now introducing! Alois Dietrich Engel, a farmer's son who tried his luck as an observer in the drachen, having to deal his balloon being shot down which prompted him to desire to become a pilot instead!
Gefreiter Alois Dietrich Engel Jasta 40 Halluin-Rekkem 31st August, 1918
After having around a week of waiting around for my assignment, I finally received it! I was to arrive at Jasta 40 and report to my new superior, Leutnant Carl Dagelow. After a lengthy train ride followed by a less than lengthy ride walk I found myself at the aerodrome belonging to the Jasta. Apparently I wasn't the only one, as today the Jasta was to receive new ground personnel who I wound up meeting on the train. We of course struck up a conversation concerning all the excitement, concerns and possibilities in regards to our new posting. The conversation then touched the war itself, but was quickly stopped before it turned sour with the various rumours everyone may have heard.
Upon parting ways with my companions, I went ahead and reported to the Leutnant. Degelow was a peculiar man, and at least to me certainly had an aura of authority to himself. He has been at this for a while, and himself was a several times ace so if anyone knew what he was doing, it surely would've been him. Content with my arrival, he informed me that I came at a good time, as in desperate times like these they need all the men they can get, especially if they are good men which I was yet to prove myself to be. After sorting out my belongings and my accomodations, I met with Leutnant Degelow at the field where he introduced me to my aircraft. I was to be flying Fokker DV.II painted in the squadron's black paint scheme, which if I was to confess certainly felt imposing. I also caught a glimpse of Degelow's own, painted with a white stag on it. I began wondering whether or not I would warrant painting something like this should I prove myself enough.
First order of the day was a familirisation flight around the aerodrome, which the Leutnant would observe from the ground. With clear weather providing a good opportunity, I took off and began doing circuits around the aerodrome.Spotting a train passing by near the aerodrome, I went ahead and dove down next to it, providing an amusing view to the occupants before pulling off and climbing high, pushing myself into a stall and hanging on the propeller for a good few seconds before recovering. I must admit, it felt great flying this aircraft but of course I couldn't fly forever so I wound up doing another round of circuits before finally landing. The leutnant seemed pleased with my handling and deemed that next up I would accompany the Jasta on a morning flight to the lines and then head off and navigate my way back.
This I was also more than happy to do, and after taking off with everyone else I fell into formation and diligently followed them, taking in the sights of the ruins and devastated land below. It wasn't a new sight to me of course, but seeing it from this high up certainly was a new experience. As we reached the lines, I waggled my wings and broke off as I was instructed, but before heading for home I sighted a lovely little sight. One of our own observation balloons, just hanging there minding its business. Figuring that I would be heading home anyway and feeling adventurous, I decided to spice up their day. After all, I too remember the hours of boredom sitting up there and just waiting for something to happen... So I spiralled down, diving past the balloon, evidently giving a fright to the observers one of who jerked his gun towards me, but after making it clear I was a friendly and giving a wave I received a wave back. That, and a less friendly gesture. Figuring my impromptu show was over here, I finally headed for home.
With Degelow's return, he told me that he was confident in my ability to conduct myself in the air at the very least, which I'm sure would've changed had he heard of my balloon prank... Regardless, from here on I would be flying full missions with the squadron and one such mission presented itself in the afternoon. The Jasta was to head out on a patrol of the friendly lines while we still had good weather. We did just that, and though we made no contact it further showed me just how much of an imposing force we seem to be when we fly together. Now I can't help but wonder what it'll be like to fly this thing against the blasted enemy scouts...
"Those who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think they're invincible. I bet you do, too, Buddy."
Fullofit - Toul airfield is pretty near the front, to the south of the St Mihiel salient. Firstly congratulations on making 100 confirmed kills. Manfred von who? Outstanding work for your Kaiser. Then onto today's goings-on. We sometimes wonder why there is a schwarm 'eins' at all, the amount of help they tend to be. Then they go and do something like that and deal with the whole thing themselves, save for a couple of stragglers who Klaus was happy to deal with. A huge flypast of the Kaiser's last stand in the afternoon followed by another tasty SPAD burger, even if it was denied. A just celebration for Klaus in the evening even if the sausages mean one less stray dog roaming eastern France.
NR - Welcome to young Engel. An ex balloonatic no less, well he's used to being shot down anyway. Carl Degelow as CO, good show, and in his stag sided mount. Interesting times ahead it seems, especially for the nearby balloons by the look of it. Good luck with him. As for Andrew, he eeked out every last inch of movement from his SPAD in that fight and it was enough.
"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
My condolences, NR. Another one gone too soon and just when he was hitting his groove.
Willkommen Engel! I love the Top Kanone improvisation on his first day. Who needs to buzz the tower when there's all these balloons about?! Cheeky. Very cheeky. I like this guy already. Keep him safe in the coming September madness.
Tross - Definetely is used to being shot down, and it seems that skill is already coming in handy! The interesting times it seems will have to wait
Epower - Exactly, far more entertaining things to buzz while talking about feeling a need for speed. Reckon this was an interesting usage of words here, since he is plenty safe now. For most of September that is.
Gefreiter Alois Dietrich Engel Jasta 40 Halluin-Rekkem 1st September, 1918
Well, my arrival to the Jasta could only be some kind of bad luck here. Either that, or I'm being followed by bad luck. The day begun with two patrols of the lines, during which absolutely nothing happened. That is all well and good of course, though for all the urgency of the situation I've heard about it didn't seem to show for it. Now, on the other hand, the third flight of the day was a different matter. While we were all preparing for another boring patrol alarms started blaring. Turns out we had visitors and we were to hurry on up and greet them! Feeling excitement at the possibility to test out my machine against some enemy flier I happily hopped in and took off along with the rest of the Jasta. With clear skies, we could see our targets above us, only further highlighted by the AAA cannon fire showing us just what we were looking for.
We climbed higher and higher towards our foes who didn't seem to care all that much until finally we saw them. Our foes of the day were RE8s and upon seeing us they finally decided that they should run, with us only all too happy to give chase. Eventually contact was made, with others getting to them before me. I dashed towards one as it was dodging an attack from above, spiralling lower but just as I came in his wing came off and he went plummeting towards the earth. I broke off, looking for another one and found him, again engaged by another member of the Jasta and too soon spiralling to the ground the moment I flew closer. I was growing a little frustrated so I kept up the chase with the ones running away but they were well over the lines now.
I was about to give up when I spotted a tiny speck on the horizon, growing closer. I turned to investigate and soon that speck revealed itself to be another RE8. Whether it had gotten lost or it was on its own mission I did not know, but regardless I decided I'd go for it and try to kill that thing at least. It seemed so easy when the others were doing it, so why not me! I dashed towards it and fired, first head on and then turning back to fire on it, sending bullets into it when suddenly the observer finally chose to open up and send hate my way. He, might I add, was a very accurate man as soon I found myself getting hit first in the radiator and then into my arms. I sent one final burst his way, which to my surprise made him spin out.
Unfortunately I couldn't see whether or not he did hit the ground, as at that point I fled to find a field to land on before my fuel ran out, which with some great luck I managed to do shortly after my fuel ran out and the engine cut off. An attempt to claim the two seater brought no luck, as it had been rejected due to a lack of evidence or witnesses from anywhere. Worse yet, I was informed that due to my injuries I was to remain grounded up until at least the 22nd... What joy.
"Those who survive a long time on the battlefield start to think they're invincible. I bet you do, too, Buddy."
Fullofit - I just spent a delightful morning catching up with everyone's adventures. I thought yours deserved it's own post.
Klaus is officially a Centurion! Hals und Beinbruch! Your second of this DID campaign. Brilliantly done, Herr Rittmeister. I hope you celebrated with a legendary pizza. Way better than the bad champagne and sausages from the narrative.
Belated congrats on Klaus' shiny new Gong. That Albrecht Order sure is a purdy thing.
Maybe the promotion will allow your man a chance for some R&R. Klaus must be quite fatigued after carrying the Jasta through the entire month of August. What an epidemic of trouser Scheißing and poor marksmanship by the rest of Schwarm Zwei! Is this a game mechanic reflecting the lower quality of the Luftstreitkräfte in late 1918 or do the flieger need to spend some time sighting their guns? At least the Claims office appears to be sorted. Fingers crossed there.
The sheer number of planes in that clip was chilling, from my RFC perspective anyway. Shame they couldn't join in. Nice work baiting those pesky high SPADS into blowing their alt advantage.
NR - Would you adam and eve it! On Alois's first full day as well! That's tough luck. Those 'Harry Tates' are much tougher than their reputation indicates. Attacking head on is always a risk because you're giving the gunner a free shot as you pass and as we know too well in WOFF, they seldom miss.
"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
NR - Oh no! Engel ist perforated. Not good but at least he's still above ground. Bad luck on the rejected claim. Talk about insult to injury. Now an opportunity for hospital adventure, perhaps even romance. Alternatively, you could start a second character for the next 3 weeks. Raine did that when Vogel got sent to hospital for a month.
Carrick - Welcome to the officer's mess, Lt. Cecil Fawnsworth. Good show. Now he'll have a batman of his very own. I just said Fawnsworth out loud. Most amusing. I missed that before. I think the Camel an excellent fit for 54's newest ace. Many congratulations on the DFC. I do hope Cecil has fully recovered from Lady Camilla's visit. A nice distraction but there is a war on.
Albert - This Beane fellow needs to give it a rest. In a seven game series the better team always wins. Andrew did well to hold his temper in check there. %&@%ing Giants fans. Some things never change. Andrew sure didn't waste any time, and now he's an Ace! Well done indeed. Quite the windy situation being tail-end Charlie but it looks like Andrew's sixth sense was working. Nice to see the lurking Hun before the tracers go whistling through one's rigging. Did Andrew and 22 Sqn just lock horns with Klaus' boys? That pic of the smoking Fokker going down made me jump as I scrolled down the page. Thought it was somebody we knew until I looked more closely at the fuselage symbols.
Raine - Fergie got his wish. Vipers! Alas poor Buckingham must break in a new driver. 32 Squadron looks like a good home and he's fallen in with some of his fellow Canadians. A stroke of good luck there. Not so much for that poor watermelon. Why do I sense a rash of upcoming crimes against vegetablekind? Love the pic of the two tracers knifing past the Greentailed Fokker. Unfortunate about the claims... but then there's a DFC! I was just typing beware when I saw your next posting. Ack! The curse is real! Fergie didn't even know about his award when he got hit, but maybe he shed enough blood to break the curse. Congrats on the Gong. Was their a lingering whiff of cigar smoke about the medal box? How long will Fergie be in hospital?
Lou - Freddy returned to France in Command and picking up where he left off. Good thing he has a capable clerk in Sgt. Bellows so he can be a flying CO. Those blasted reports are such a bother. And now converting to Snipes?! Gods have mercy on the Luftstreitkräfte. Freddy will have none, of that I'm certain. What fun to fly that machine. I do wish OBD had done the Dolphin first but c'est la guerre. Fienvillers is just up the road from Abbeville and a mere 7 miles from Conteville. When Oliver catches up he might have to drop in on his old pal. Is Lizzie in Abbeville once again? Enjoy the new mount.
Epower - Jasta 18 seem to be Andrew's bete noire so I expect many clashes over coming weeks. As for Beane, he's harmless but there's always someone who thinks they know better. Looking forward to Oliver's next offering.
2nd Lieutenant Andrew Murphy 22nd Aero Toul airfield
6 confirmed kills
1st September 1918
Morning sortie
Major Hayes called the squadron together early on and gave them some important news. Peronne had fallen to the allies. This was a vital step forwards and would allow the consolidation of the Bapaume - Peronne line, before the allies kick on again down on the Somme.
This news was greeted with a loud cheer and the usual mumble and chatter which the Major quietened with a hand.
He then explained that the squadron would be heading north again to patrol the lines along to the east of Toul.
The weather was lovely, 'it's going to be a hot day' thought Andrew as he took off into the dawn sun. Little did he know how true those thoughts would be.
They climbed up to 16000 feet and with excellent visibility, the whole patrol went without incident.
The squadron landed safely some 75 minutes later.
Afternoon sortie
The afternoon sortie was to be a patrol of the lines to the east of St Mihiel. The weather was perfect again with just whispy high clouds once more.
The squadron took off and were upto 12000 feet before heading out north east. They'd reached about halfway and could see the front when Andrew saw a formation coming across the lines the other way.
He saw a lot of flak nearby and signalled to the others. He climbed up after the other formation and then realised they were Rumpler two seaters, a few thousand feet above.
He looked and could see 'B' flight coming up behind him. Andrew reached the enemy aircraft first who had now spotted the SPADs and ran for home. He came up behind the lead Hun and raised the nose to allow him to put a long accurate burst into the enemy aircraft.
The Rumpler shuddered but kept on it's way. Andrew bobbed up again and pummelled the Hun. The pilot slumped forward in his cockpit and the enemy aircraft nosed down and went racing down into the ground.
By now 'B' flight had engaged the rest of the enemy formation. Andrew saw another Rumpler on it's own and came around behind it. The Hun evaded skillfully and gave his gunner a shot. Bullets smacked into the wing of the SPAD but Andrew closed in and let loose with a tirade of bullets into the German machine.
He stayed behind the Hun by careful use of the rudder and poured another long burst into him. The Rumpler's wing fell apart and left him spinning crazily down and down.
Andrew took stock and on looking below him he saw a melee going on. It looked like 'A' flight embroiled with a large formation of DVII's.
Andrew dived down to help as did the rest of 'B' flight who had finished with the Rumplers.
He fired a good burst into one Hun as he raced down. The Hun dived and was no longer a threat so Andrew let it be. He went after another Fokker who was attacking a comrade. He lined up on the enemy and fired into him, it was at that moment he began to wonder about his remaining ammunition.
He carried on after the red and white DVII as it dived down. The Hun levelled and made a run for the lines. Andrew went after him and closed in close to make sure of his shots. He opened fire and hit the enemy aircraft with his remaining ammunition. Just as his twin Vickers ran dry, the enemy rolled over and went into the ground.
Andrew decided to avoid further contact and head home. He landed not long later and several other SPADs were doing the same.
The pilots mingled together as they climbed out. There was at least two missing, one of them was Major Hayes.
Captain Tyndall came in and landed. He headed over to the crowd and looked grim. He'd seen the Major shot down. His aircraft had begun a downward spiral that hadn't ended until it smashed into the ground. There was no way he would have survived it.
Bruce Bird had also been downed in similar circumstances. Captain Bird was from Provo, Utah and had one confirmed kill.
Once the reports were in eleven enemy aircraft had been downed, including Andrew's three. Brooks, Jones, Swaab, Bridgeman, Beane and Rawlinson had claimed one each and Hassinger had downed two.
Despite the success, the mood was understandably subdued afterwards, especially when the news about the two bodies being found came in.
Captain Bridgeman would assume command by default and with his experience there were no complaints.
Afterwards, Bridgeman spoke to Andrew. He was able to confirm only one of the three claims from today. The two Rumplers were being claimed by the ground units.
This brought Andrew's total to seven confirmed kills.
Later in the mess, Andrew called a toast to Major Hayes and Captain Bird.
"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
Albert – I am enjoying reading about Andrew’s time with the Red Sox. If his first few days of action are any indication, Andrew is earmarked for the USAS equivalent of the All-Star team.
Lou – That’s the way to do a proper balloon strafe. Straight in and straight out, with a nice witnessed fireball in the middle. And then to top it all off, the Snipes arrive! I can’t begin to describe my jealousy. Thank you for the wound stripe, too. Unfortunately, the things are becoming so common that they no longer impress the ladies.
NR – Baptiste was doing so well – he became an ace, got promoted, and had himself a new mount. But the war grinds on, and we join together in welcoming Gef Engel. He has himself a good boss in Carl Degelow. He has also mastered the art of surviving the war – what is the German word for “Blighty”?
Carrick – Congratulations on the promotion for Cecil. Extra congratulations on the award of the DFC. Too bad about the last claim being rejected.
Epower – Wonderful to see Eliza re-emerging. And Smokey has his eye on Alex Anderson. I’m not sure which one of them should be the more cautious. The last catch-up post in mid-July had Oliver on an impressive tear. I’ll keep my fingers crossed that he makes his appointment with Eliza.
Fullofit – Klaus has the Breguet and Spad factories working overtime, it seems. An admiring hats off to you for passing the magic number of victories yet again.
Journal of 2nd Lieutenant Robert Fergus Drummond 32 Squadron, Royal Air Force No 9 British Red Cross Hospital Longuenesse, France
Part 8
The wound to my leg is healing quickly. The last of the irrigation tubes is thankfully gone and I am told that I am properly passed the point of danger. All that remains is to regain strength and mobility. They have given me the okay to get out of bed and hobble about as best I can. Yesterday, I joined up with an Australian named Burroughs and a Scot from New Zealand named McCann and the three of us headed into Saint Omer for a splendid lunch at the Hôtel du Commerce. Then we went shopping, but as I found the walking to be very uncomfortable, I retired to a café for tea and cream cakes.
Chess playing is all the rage among us ambulatory types at the hospital. I was never much for the game, a secret I betrayed by becoming upset when my opponent “castled” – a move I had never seen before. For the past two days I have played incessantly. One poor fellow, a portly major who has lost a leg, is endowed with great patience and has played and beaten me fully a dozen times. I am determined to play him until I win, after which I shall probably retire from the game to reflect on my past glory.
Bud Hale dropped by this morning. He is picking up a new machine at the depot. The squadron has lost a few of its veterans. Captain Simpson has left for Home Establishment and was replaced by Donaldson. As of this morning, Donaldson is reported missing. He was seen going down damaged but under control over Hunland. The latest news is that Captain Green will be off to Home Establishment in the next few days. Bud tells me that Major Russell is pulling strings to get me back as quickly as possible, even if I am not cleared to fly yet. If I stay in hospital too long, there is a risk that I will be taken off the squadron’s strength and returned to the pilot pool.
NR, you are going to love your Fokker when compared to a SPAD. Just be mindful that other Fokkers will try to shoot you down if Klaus is an indication. It is a good thing then that they’re such poor shots. Beware nonetheless. So, welcome to Alois! It’s good to finally take up to the air free of tethers. The prank was something he had to get out of his system. He will have to dive on enemy planes AND enemy balloons from now on. That is a lovely paint scheme - no need to come up with anything else to impress the ladies.
Oh dear, our adventurous Flieger got himself punctured this soon in the game and for a long time I may add. That is not a good sign. Perhaps re-roll of the career is in order? Then again, a great chance to meet and befriend a sassy nurse or two. Who knows?
Albert, I know Toul well from my first DiD career as Voscadeaux flying his Caudron out of there. It is some distance away. Germans don’t fly that far inland, that’s why I thought it was strange one showed up over the airfield. Must have been lost. And to answer your question, the reason why there is Schwarm Eins is to burn through the ammunition and petrol stores and create the shortage. As for those SPADs … they’ll never learn. So, a quiet sortie for once for Andrew. Not too many of those. He can probably count them on one finger. Not so on his afternoon outing. I am so envious of those well behaved Rumplers. They don’t make your sphincter pucker up when they dive on your tail firing their guns. It’s just not fair! Such a target rich environment. Murphy can pick and chosoe what to attack next. The only problem is running out of ammo - same affliction is recently plaguing Klaus as well. Congrats on all the most recent victories. Who cares what the claims board says! The Gong Fairy is on the way, I’m sure. Bad luck about the major. Hopefully Bridgman will be a good leader.
Epower, I feel honoured to get my own, separate post, although I don’t think Klaus deserves such a distinction for bringing down so many foes. It is war after all. And besides, it is nothing compared to Oliver who’s got him outscored. Now, that is an accomplishment! Congrats on becoming sesqui-centurion. Now, what’s this about blowing off Eliza for some national security secret. Is Clarissa getting in the way again? BTW, no pizza for Klaus. The Italian front is not ready yet and as to a little R&R, that might be a bit premature. Poor Klaus is not even full three months at the front yet. He has to soldier on, otherwise the Germans will get overrun in no time at all, judging by the Schwarm shooting scores.
Raine, you’ve got that right. Those factories are working overtime. Perhaps they should start making other things? Things that don’t break? Thank you Raine. The magic is to survive till the end. Speaking of which, Drummond’s plan is to survive it in a hospital. Little does he know a hospital is the most likely place to catch something deadly, like the love of the game. Robert better have his eye on that portly Major and watch he doesn’t have an extra rook up his sleeve. When he finally wins, Robert should reward himself with a handsome cane to help him hobble along. Let’s hope he gets out of the hospital in time and not end up in that pilot pool.
1 September, 1918 05:45 morning mission Montingen, Verdun Sector Jasta 18 Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Fokker D.VII 102 confirmed kills
Today, first mission of the day required Jasta 18 support ground forces near Malzeville. Schwarm Eins raced ahead. This had disaster written all over it, but would they listen? Well, they were quickly taught a lesson by a flight of Bréguets. Klaus was able to cripple one but couldn’t follow it down. The engine was complaining of excessive speeds. Klaus had to relent, but was certain the enemy was going straight into the ground. He then searched for his next victim and among the smaller fights still going on he spotted another flight approaching. Escorts! Raben was looking forward to a fight with SPADs and directed his plane to intercept. He was rudely disappointed by another flight of Bréguets instead. “- Scheiße!” They were all gunning for him and in desperation Raben turned around and tried to involve his Schwarm in this little furball. Too late! They were on him. Thankfully Klaus avoided the attack and now was dishing out pain of his own. He was able to bring another Bréguet down by shooting its wing off. He then tangled with another one and nearly had him. The rear gunner was hit and lay sprawled across the fuselage. Klaus noticed one of the guns was damaged and inoperable. He was about to put finishing touches when his good Spandau ran dry. He thought it may be just a simple jam, but no such luck. It was truly empty.
1 September, 1918 12:30 noon mission Montingen, Verdun Sector Jasta 18 Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Fokker D.VII 102 confirmed kills Awaiting three claim confirmations
The afternoon show demanded defending of the observation balloon near Flirey. The balloon remained safe and sound during Raben’s watch. No enemy dared to approach the gasbag while three valiant Fokkers circled above it.
"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."
Albert - A bloody red day for 22 Aero - 11 Huns down but the butcher's bill was far too costly. Major Hayes and Captain Bird. Gods below! Shame about the Rumplers. Deserved or no, those AA boys seem to get their share. Frustrating to take such risks in downing 2-seaters only to have others steal the credit. At least the Fokker came thru. Lucky number seven now. BTW, I can't make out the word in blue on Andrew's SPAD. Ye Olde______?
Raine - Good news about the healing leg. Those blasted irrigation tubes are the worst. Nice to be able to escape into town even if the limp was painful. So Fergie has taken up chess. Good luck and God bless. Nice that the indulgent Major is willing to teach our young Canadian the game. Let's hope Major Russell has the touch. The Pilot's pool could lead anywhere ... at least the festering orifice that was Candas got relocated to Verton.
Fullofit - It's Breguet mania down in the Verdun region. What joy! I'm getting worried about Klaus. That tracer flashing past his left ear at 04:56 sure got my attention. Wait, you ran a pair of Spandaus dry?! Impressive. I didn't think that possible, but those Frenchie 2 seaters eat a lot of lead. 3 down. I will think happy thoughts that Klaus may be back in favor with the new Claims Office _______________________________________
À la Recherche du Temps Perdu - Part 98
22 July 1918 No. 24 Squadron Conteville, France
Saw the 5.00 patrol off then gave the bag a solid thrashing. A quick cold bath in the wretched canvas tub then to work. Patrol back safely. Hazell sent another balloon down in flames. I breakfasted with C Flight then made the short flight down to Bertangles, arriving at 9.40. Fond memories of my time here with 84 Squadron.
Chateau Bertangles. 22nd wing and 4th Army Headquarters.
Colonel Cairnes was late. I kept glancing at my watch every two minutes. At 11:04 he finally appeared, walking down the hallway toward his office.
“Winningstad, there you are. My apologies for the delay. Do come in,” he said holding open the door to his office.
“Now, what flavor of intelligence has a squadron commander delivering a message in person?”
When I related Lambert’s conversation with the Canadian General, the Colonel’s face set in a still mask.
“Did your man know this General’s name?” “No, Sir.” “Pity.” He stood and walked past me and opened the door briefly. “Perkins, get me a line to HQ.”
He’d barely returned to his desk when his telephone rang. “Thank you Perkins….Ah, Hodges, yes, I need five minutes with the General. Very good then, I’ll be right over.
Col. Cairnes rang off then rose unceremoniously and walked toward the door. “Well, you’d better come along, Winningstad,” he said. “Where are we going, sir?” “To see General Charlton, of course.”
You’re in it now, Oliver.
Up a flight of stairs then down the hall. The general’s aide moved to the door as we approached and we walked into General Charlton’s palatial office without breaking stride. Gen. Lionel Charlton, DSO was among the very first airmen to land in France in August 1914.
General Charlton appeared more like a Captain in his energy and affect.
Colonel Cairnes made introductions then explained the situation. To the General, I recounted my conversation with Lambert. “Tell it to me again, Winningstad,” he said. I repeated the story. “Is there the slightest chance that your man might have been mistaken, or embellished his account?”
“No, sir. That’s not in his character. I trust Lambert with my life. In fact, I have done so on numerous occasions.”
General Charlton nodded in acceptance and reached for the telephone.
“Michaels, get me the General.” Thirty seconds later Michaels informed General Charlton of the open line. “Ah, Bertie, I need a word with Himself. Yes, as a matter of fact it is rather urgent. Jolly good. We’ll be right over.”
It dawned on me then that we were ascending the chain of command. Why? Had this loose lipped Canadian compromised the coming push? The very thought seemed incredible, yet here I was. I looked at my watch. It was Noon on the number. Dammit! If I didn't get away soon, I was going to be late.
On it went. General Salmond, was equally intrigued. I’d met him only once, at Jimmy's funeral, where we'd exchanged greetings but nothing more. He queried me at length about my time with 54 and 56 Squadron and how I was getting on commanding 24 Squadron. I thought only of the ticking clock and escape.
“Keep knocking them down, Winningstad. Shall we?” he said extending an arm toward the door.”
At 12.30 PM, we reached the Summit at last.
By the time I completed the interrogation, dodged an invitation to lunch, and made good my exit it was 1:15. I raced to the field. Just my luck! The Ack Ems at Bertangles hangared D330. She was stuck behind 3 other machines. By the time we got her out and up to temperature I’d lost more time.
2:00 Landed Conteville. A brief check in with Lawson then into the Crossley and on to Abbeville. 2:15 Burst a front tire on the road. Lawson had drilled me on the proper method of changing a tire but try as I might, I couldn’t get the lug to budge. Seized up solid. Nothing for it but to flag down a passing lorry.
Not so easy, the Supply boys being notoriously hostile to officers and I lacked a bottle to offer as a bribe. Compounding my torment, the first three lorries passed me by without so much as a wave. The road was oddly devoid of traffic. Finally, an empty field ambulance stopped. It’s driver, Corporal Lewis, was a Mancunian by his accent. He ferried me to the La Place de l’Admiral Courbet regaling me all the while about his home town and his favorite football team, Manchester City. In our short acquaintance I learned a great deal about the 1904 Football Association Cup championship final. Manchester City 1 – Bolton Wanderers 0.
It seemed rude to simply dismount and dash toward the café. I offered Lewis one of Mr. Dunhill’s cigarettes which he gratefully accepted. After a long sniff, he declined the proffered light and tucked it behind his ear.
“Thank you, sir. Very fine. I’ll save this for later, begging your pardon. Good luck!” he said before speeding off.
Admiral Courbet’s grandiose statue dominated the square bearing his name. Save for the carriage drivers ringing this central feature, the Place de l’Admiral Courbet was empty. The worthy Admiral’s outstretched arm pointed directly at the Café du Commerce. One storefront to the left lay my destination, the Café du Vimeu.
Two hours late! Bloody Hell! What if she’s not here?
I burst into the café finding it nearly deserted. I scanned the room in a panic. At one table near the front window an older couple nursed their aperitifs. At another, a begrimed carriage driver read a newspaper. She was Gone! A desperate second look and then I saw her, sitting at a table in back. Eliza stood as I strode quickly to her.
“Oh, Oliver. You’re here. Thank God.”
“I’m sorry, Eliza, I got caught up at Wing and couldn’t get away. Blasted Red Tabs! Then the car broke down and nobody would stop. I fear I’ve made a mess of things.”
“I’m so glad you’re safe. When you didn’t come, I thought…”
The red around her eyes betrayed the strain of the last hours. What mortal thoughts bedeviled her mind?
“I didn’t know what to think,” she said. Her words burst like a staccato of machine gun fire. “I feared something happened to you. I thought you were...”
I took her face in my hands and kissed her. Eliza’s soft mouth and dancing tongue responded briefly, then retreated. She held to me tightly but only for a second, then she ended the embrace.
“Oliver, please.” she entreated. People were watching, I knew it.
“I’ve been waiting a year to kiss you Eliza, you have no idea…”
I kissed her again, fiercely, not caring who saw. Her hands pushed gently against my chest in silent protest yet her lips and tongue spoke a different tale. I broke away before my passions overwhelmed me.
“I missed you too, Oliver.” Her face revealed a flush. The laughing eyes I loved, light brown and almost golden, flashed as if in answer to her words, then lowered demurely. She seemed unusually shy, almost hesitant as if somehow restrained by longstanding impediment.
“I’m sorry I’m so late. I’m here now.”
She squeezed both my hands, a sad, faraway look on her face.
“I’m so glad to see you, but I have to return to the hospital now.”
“Oh Hell. Must you really?” I asked, already knowing the answer.
Gods d@mn these bloody Red Tabs to the darkest corner of Hell!
“Let me walk you there, at least. Or we could take a carriage,” I ventured. Too late I realized a ride would speed the end of our time together.
“I’d like a walk with you,” she said, smiling her Eliza smile.
We meandered back through the streets of the ancient city. I was not in any particular hurry.
“Can we meet tomorrow?” I asked, “or the next day, or the day after that?”
“I go back to Rouen tomorrow morning,” was all she said.
The Gods do enjoy their amusements…
“For how long?”
“A week, maybe ten days. Then to Étaples again. I don’t think I’ll be there long. Something big is coming. They’re clearing all the base hospitals just like they did last Summer before Passchendaele.”
“Yes, I see the signs too. It won’t be long now. I wish you would be closer, but Étaples will have to do. Wire me when you get there.”
I didn’t know Abbeville well but I thought the hospital just around the corner on the main boulevard. The tall building at end of this narrow street, hid us from view. Eliza stopped. This was goodbye and I knew it. She stood on her toes and kissed me on the cheek. I swept her into my arms. The Offensive was coming and this might be my last chance to kiss her. I made the most of it.
We walked toward the main entrance of No. 5 British Red Cross Hospital, the picture of respectability. A Senior Sister of Queen Alexandra’s Imperial Military Nursing Service Reserve in outdoor uniform, escorted by a decorated Major of the Royal Flying Corps Air Force. A formal goodbye. An extended hand.
“Please come back to me, Oliver,” she said, then turned walked inside.
I followed on and found an orderly who directed me to the telephone operator. Lawson dispatched transport for me and a repair crew to collect the Crossley.
Cecil P Fawnsworth Lt , Rfc, 54 Sqn Fienvillers, AF.
Sept 1 , 1918.
6 Victory Confirmed 3 Unconfirmed
My Sqn got Jumped today. Our 10 a/c were on a Troop Machine gunning mission. As we let down we got hit by 5 or 8 V struts diving on us. We lost 1 a/c right away ,but stood fast and beat the rest off. claiming 2 enemy machine. None for me as I fired twisted and turned did get 10 hits in my Kite. Later in the mess The ADJ said I could paint my Aero machine , but we have no paint. Our sister Sqn 43 Rfc has paint and new a/c so pop over there,but Leave your wallet as they are a shifty sort . They are widely known to sucker in a new player to a game of Jack Draw and take him to the cleaners.
Raine - Glad to see Fergie is on the mend, still some healing to do clearly though if the walking is troubling him. It looks like the squadron want him back whether he can walk or not. The nearly last thing he wants is a return to the pilot pool, the last thing being a trip to blighty, so maybe he'll be back flying sooner than expected. As for Andrew, he's had a good start, he's a determined chap for sure. As for the all star team, he's not had the pleasure of a game of baseball since coming to France, that would be splendid, but so little time.
Fullofit - A splendid show by Klaus there, three Breguets in one outing is some haul. That second one was no doubt satisfying with the wing flying off. Then a quiet second sortie which is as rare for Klaus as it is for Andrew. As for Andrew, he's happy against those Hun two seaters while they're in formation, it's when they're all over the place it gets tricky. As for the claims, I think the Americans must have captured some German ones and decided to put them to use. As for Toul it's 10 miles behind the lines.
Epower - 'The Olde Towne', I'll have to make the blue a shade lighter. A tough day indeed for the 22nd. Andrew got on well with Major Hayes, hopefully Bridgeman will be of similar yoke. So Oliver is whisked from pillar to post on a tour of the General Staff, each one 'Top Trumping' the previous one. What will become of it, can he trust them all? Oh the intrigue. Finally he saw Eliza, poor Eliza. When Oliver didn't show she clearly thought the worst, as you would. A fleeting shared moment, a passionate moment, but only a moment nonetheless. That's going to do nothing for Oliver's desires. He'll have to pummel that bag.
Carrick - That could have been a nasty outing for Cecil but the squadron turned it around. I hope the card game wasn't too painful over at 43. Sounds like they'd have your DFC off you.
"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
2nd Lieutenant Andrew Murphy 22nd Aero Toul airfield
7 confirmed kills
2nd September 1918
Morning sortie
Captain Bridgeman took the briefing, his first as CO. He seemed relaxed, as much as a man could be, sending other men out to possible death.
With his strong Chicagoan accent he explained that Major Hayes and Captain Bird would be returned to the squadron this afternoon and a burial would take place this evening.
He then moved onto this morning's sortie. The squadron was to fly over to St Mihiel and patrol east along the German side of the lines.
The weather had deteriorated overnight and a steady rain fell as the squadron took off. After forming and climbing they headed out north west.
The large clouds were hampering visibility considerably, but as 'B' flight came through one of the clouds Andrew spotted another formation down below against the backdrop of clouds. He signalled and went to investigate. As he got nearer he realised they were a formation of Hannovers although they were flying as a flight of scouts would do, arrow shaped and straddling the lines.
He hadn't been seen yet so he raced down and underneath the formation, throttled back and came up behind the lead aircraft.
He nosed up and fired a long devastating burst into the cockpit and engine of the Hannover. The propeller on the Hun bird seized and the engine burst into flames.
Andrew throttled up again and climbed up past the falling Hannover before the others had even reacted.
As he climbed he saw the remaining Huns running for their lives down towards Thiaucourt.
He rejoined the rest of 'B' flight and clearly not a moment too soon. Out of a series of clouds to the left and below there appeared a formation of DVII's. 'B' flight reacted as one and dived down into the attack.
Andrew picked a target and swung down into the Hun's right with his guns blazing. The Fokker seemed to just stop in midair and began to spin down.
Andrew went with him until he realised it was no fake. The enemy aircraft smashed into the ground.
As he looked around he spotted another Fokker at a similar height and went straight after him.
There was a determination in Andrew today, not anger, but a steely determination to avenge his CO.
He caught the enemy aircraft up and fired into him. The Hun tried to evade but Andrew blasted him again. A final burst tore the wing away and took the pilot out. The enemy aircraft plummeted into the ground.
Andrew formed back up with the nearby SPADs and they headed home.
On landing, Ray Brooks came over to Andrew. "That was some show my friend. I saw you down all three of those Huns today, although I think the whole of 'B' flight saw you destroy that two seater Andy!" said Brooks.
Five enemy aircraft had been downed without serious loss.
Afternoon sortie (awaiting three confirmations)
Captain Bridgeman took the afternoon briefing and confirmed that 'B' flight would be heading to patrol the skies above Toul itself. 'A' flight had an escort mission taking some DH4's out to the lines.
The weather was still poor as Andrew got airborne with his comrades. After climbing upto 12000 feet they headed towards Toul.
As they patrolled around the perimeter of the town and despite the poor visibility, Andrew spotted aircraft coming in from the north.
Judging by the flak pounding them, they were clearly enemy and Andrew went after them.
He now saw they were DFW's and as they entered more cloud Andrew chose a target. The Hun evaded but Andrew kept after him. He poured bullets into the two seater as bullets from the gunner smacked into his wing. Another accurate burst tore the wing away and left the enemy aircraft spiralling down into the ground.
Andrew lost touch with the other DFW's and using his compass headed back towards Toul.
He couldn't see any other aircraft so headed home. As he landed other SPADs made their approaches.
Only the one enemy aircraft had been downed as 'B' flight had lost sight of them as well as Andrew.
Later on Captain Bridgeman called Andrew into the office.
"Lieutenant, firstly I want to congratulate you on your performance today. That attack on the Hannover this morning was a treat to watch, you used the SPAD's good points to press home a perfect attack."
"Ray Brooks has confirmed both of the DVII's as well. Unfortunately no-one saw the two seater this afternoon and with all the flak around it can't be confirmed."
"I know you got on well with Major Hayes. I hope you and I can get on just as well. I'm sure as hell glad to have you with me that's for sure Andy!" finished Bridgeman.
"Thanks sir. The Major was a good man. I'm sad he's gone, but that's war. I'm happy to be serving under you. I won't let you or my comrades down" said Andrew.
"Thank you Lieutenant." said the Captain.
Andrew was now on 10 confirmed kills.
They left the office and went to the simple burial service for Major Hayes and Captain Bird.
"A great deal of an aeroplane could be holed without affecting its ability to fly. Wings and fuselage could be—and often were—pierced in 50 places, missing the occupants by inches (blissfully unaware of how close it had come until they returned to base). Then the sailmaker would carefully cover each hole with a square inch of Irish linen frayed at the edges and with a brushful of dope make our aircraft 'serviceable' again within an hour."
Epower, that’s right. If it’s not SPADs it’s Bréguets. There used to be Strutter mayhem before they were retired. There’s a a rare DH.4 appearance but that’s only on special occasions. Looks like Camels and SE’s aren’t welcome in Verdun. I did see that round go by Raben’s head. It’s amazing how close these men came to their end each day. Most of the time not even knowing it. Technically only one was empty. The other one stopped working with nearly 200 rounds left. I’ve checked during the debrief. And it does take a lot of lead to bring those beasts down. The happy thoughts are highly appreciated. Now to Oliver’s disastrous meeting with the red tabs. How they love to waste time. The bureaucracy at its best. Good thing the Château couldn’t fit more generals. Then off, on his way to meet Eliza. Everything seemed to stand in the way of the meeting. Thankfully she was patient. Don’t know any woman who would sit in a cafe for two hours waiting. But it was all worth it. A stolen kiss, then seconds, but still no explanation. Winningstad will have to wait bit longer.
Albert, definitely the second one was the most satisfying of them all. It’s always a sure sign the enemy is as good as dead and no one should be able to poach that one from you. I don’t think Andrew can complain about his claim confirmation rate. It seems much better than what Sigmund was used to. He’s a double ace now, after all. So, it’s two-seaters with their pants down in. The morning. No wonder Murphy has to do most of the work. The rest of the squadron appears to be enjoying the show. The upside is that he gets his claims confirmed with so many spectators. Unfortunately, due to low visibility and cloud cover no amount of spectating would help with that claim. There’s always tomorrow. Hopefully the weather improves. Congrats on the latest batch of confirmed kills.
2 September, 1918 05:45 morning mission Montingen, Verdun Sector Jasta 18 Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Fokker D.VII 104 confirmed kills
Two of the three Bréguets from yesterday have been confirmed. The morning orders were to go up and patrol over friendly railyard at Verdun NE junction. Schwarm Zwei didn’t have far to go before the enemy arrived to attack them. The enemy planes surprised the Schwarm and the Fokkers flew in disarray during the initial confusion. They were attacked by SPADs flown by not very experienced pilots. Their surprise attack was squandered on unnecessary pussyfooting and Klaus quickly got on the tail of one of them then patiently tracked him and fired in short controlled bursts. This continued until the enemy ran out of height and smacked into the ground. Raben soon spotted a fight going on close by and engaged. This one only needed a few bursts to bring down. After that only von Buren managed to reform and continue with the mission. The rest had to land at the nearest airfield.
2 September, 1918 12:50 afternoon mission Montingen, Verdun Sector Jasta 18 Rittmeister Klaus Gustav Raben AO PLM HHO EK1 EK2 Fokker D.VII 104 confirmed kills Awaiting two claim confirmations
It was another quiet mission for Klaus and the rest of Jasta 18 in the afternoon. They were sent to support the ground forces stationed between Nancy and Lunéville. The weather was deteriorating and the Schwarm had to skim the tops of the clouds to avoid getting drenched by the rains. It appeared the enemy had a better idea and remained on the ground.
"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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