1918 We will remember them Read online

  The doctors and medical staff around the Bristols told me that we had casualties. No one had died in the air but the loss of gunners and pilots meant a depleted squadron. We had been surprised and we had paid the price. Two Camels were not enough. We needed two flights and as soon as possible.

  Chapter 3

  Three of the new pilots were hospitalised, although none of them seriously and one new gunner had died of his wounds. Doc Brennan had spent hours trying to save him but even he could not work a miracle. It was a sombre mess that evening. The new pilots and gunners had had a baptism of fire. Lieutenant Jenkin apart, the new Camel pilots were all shaken. The aerial battle had taken place close enough to the field for them to see it unfold. They had seen the power of the new triplane. Jenkin seemed to take it all in his stride. He obviously believed that aerial combat could be in your blood. It was not. You learned it through experience or you died.

  Randolph sat at dinner and we talked shop. Normally that was considered bad form but the new triplane was on all of our minds. Any new German fighter was. “Well we have a name for it now. It is called the Fokker Dr.I. The cheeky buggers copied it from a Sopwith Triplane they shot down. The RNAS chaps used them.”

  “Well they can out climb us and they are faster. Not by much but if they run away then we can’t catch them.”

  Freddie was on the opposite side of the table. “Sir, why do you think they leave so quickly? They must know they have a better bus than we do. Today they could have shot us down and then gone after the Bristols.”

  I had been thinking about that. “The only explanation I can come up with is that they do not have the endurance to stay aloft for much longer.”

  Ted nodded, as he lit a cigarette. “That makes sense. I mean the smaller the aeroplane then the smaller the fuel tank. We will have to try to take advantage of that.”

  “Yes we can make them waste fuel climbing but we still need a way to shoot them down. They are hard to hit.”

  Archie laughed, “Says the pilot who shot down the first Fokker Dr.I on the Western Front.”

  “Luck.”

  “You keep saying that but I say you have a killer instinct.”

  I hated it when they spoke like this and I changed the subject. “What happened to the formations today? If they had kept their lines then we might have had fewer casualties.”

  Ted shook his head and I saw annoyance in his eyes. “I think the young lads panicked and tried to fly them as a two seater and not a fighter. It might have been me and Gordy too. I was nervous about attacking with the new pilots.”

  “We need to practise that. When do our Camels arrive?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  “We need to check them out first so we will practise the day after tomorrow unless we get orders to patrol.”

  “I’ll find out tomorrow but we appear to be a quiet sector at the moment.”

  “Let’s hope it stays that way then.”

  Of course it didn’t. As Ted morosely pointed out, if they were giving us new buses in such a hurry then they wanted something doing with them. The Camels arrived and we were immediately given orders to support the French to our south. We would be at the extreme range of our fighters but the French had suffered at the hands of the new Fokkers and we had to show our presence. Archie also flew with us giving us twenty one aeroplanes. I was less than happy about throwing my new pilots in at the deep end and, in the hours before dawn, I impressed upon them the need to keep in a tight formation and to follow my standing orders.

  “Every one of you needs to watch the tail of the man in front. C flight will not be watching our tails this time; they will be looking after D Flight. Lieutenant Fall you are the last man in the line. I am, relying on you.”

  The earnest young man nodded, “Yes, sir.”

  I had picked him out as the most reliable of my new pilots. Part of it came from his background. He came from Lancaster and his people were farmers. He was both quietly spoken and careful. In fact he was the opposite of Lieutenant Jenkin. I had Jenkin in the middle where I hoped he would learn from the others.

  We took off half an hour before dawn and headed into the rising sun. I wanted every advantage that we could get. We would be flying from the dark and any German fighters would be silhouetted against the sun’s rays. We flew a thousand feet above the Bristols. They would ground attack the German positions while the French aeroplanes bombed the rear areas. We hoped to draw the German fighters. I prayed that we were right about the German fuel consumption. We would be flying on fumes, too, when we got home.

  The day was not as clear as the previous one and there were annoying puffs of cloud on the horizon. They would be perfect for the Fokkers to hide amongst. I felt nervous with so many new and inexperienced pilots. Archie and Ted had a much easier task; most of their pilots were seasoned veterans. It was their gunners who were new.

  I spotted the French bombers; they were the Sopwith Strutter. It was not a good aeroplane but it could carry a decent bomb load. The SPAD fighters escorting them were reassuring. On the face of it the Bristols would have an easy task that day. They just had to ground attack the trenches and the roads. The reality was that they were a large aeroplane and the German gunners had a good chance of hitting them.

  We climbed towards the clouds. I was gambling. If I was waiting for bombers or fighters then I would wait there. I heard the chatter of machine guns and saw Archie and Ted leading B Flight to attack the German trenches. The popping of anti aircraft guns soon filled the air around them with puff balls of smoke. I looked in my mirror and saw some of my pilots watching them and drifting off line. I would need to have a word with them once we landed. I scanned the sky ahead of me and I was rewarded by the distinctive shape of the Fokker Dr.1 as the ten aeroplanes dived on the Bristols. Behind them were another eight Albatros DV aeroplanes. They were a good and reliable aeroplane but we were faster. It gave us an edge. The danger would be the new nimble Dr. 1.

  My calculated guess had given us an advantage. We were now above them. I turned to dive towards the middle of the flight. I would leave Freddie to choose his target. I cocked my twin Vickers and hoped that the triplanes had not seen us. They began to open fire on the Bristols. The rear gunners sent up a spray of bullets as the pilots took evasive action. Our extra height had given us greater speed and we began to overhaul the Fokkers. These were not the Flying Circus but they were a large Jasta. I hoped that they were alone or we could be in trouble.

  I gave the aeroplane with the bright green tail a short burst. Although I missed, the pilot reacted by pulling up the nose. They were a nippy little bus and he flew out of my line of sight. I followed him around and Nat Hazell behind me took the opportunity to send a hail of bullets towards him. He was luckier and his bullets struck the tail. Again the German twisted and turned to evade Nat. He flew directly into my sights and I fired another burst at him. I was luckier this time and he began to tumble to the ground.

  The German formation had broken up and I was seeking my next target when I felt the judder of bullets as they struck my fuselage. Looking in my mirror I saw that Lieutenant Hazell had been hit and was peeling off west. I began to pull a loop. I heard the bullets as they struck the body of my aeroplane and my wings. I saw that it was an Albatros. I breathed a sigh of relief. I could out run and out climb the Albatros. I threw the Camel on to one wing and then began a loop to bring me around inside the Albatros. I do not think I could have managed it against a triplane but the D V was not as agile. I felt a slight shudder as the engine missed. I frowned. That had been the problem Freddie had had the other day. The revs picked up again and I found myself on the tail of my pursuer. I gave him a long burst and saw his tail shredding as my bullets tore holes in the skin. I kept after him, firing as I did so. The Albatros was a tough little fighter but I watched his hand come up as he surrendered. I followed him down as he landed behind the French lines and I turned north and west. I had just enough fuel to get home.

  I kept at a lower altitud
e to save fuel and I felt the engine as it began to judder and shudder more and more. My engine was definitely poorly. That worried me. My mechanic was extremely conscientious. Was it a fault with the engines? I looked into the skies and saw the rest of the squadron as they headed home. I saw the field approaching and wondered if I would actually get down in one piece. The engine sounded as though it was being struck by a hammer. It was too late to fire the Very Pistol and I bumped over the hedge at the end of the field and, as the wheels touched the ground, the engine stopped. I had to use the ailerons and rudder to keep me from slewing around. The grass was not the smoothest runway in the world.

  I saw Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery racing towards me with his mechanics. As the Camel lurched to a halt I closed my eyes and sat back in the cockpit. That had been close.

  “Are you hit sir?”

  “No, Flight. I had some damage but the engine started playing up. It might be the same trouble that Mr Carrick had the other day.”

  “The irregular running?”

  “Two of the Bristols reported that too. I hope there isn’t a fault with these new engines.”

  “I thought they had totally different engines.” Flight Sergeant Lowery nodded. “Well it needs sorting.” I climbed out. “Any damage to the buses?”

  “Three of the aeroplanes in your flight are pretty badly shot up sir. Mr Carrick’s flight looks to be safe and sound but we lost one of the new pilots I think. At least he didn’t come back with the others.”

  “Who is that?”

  “Lieutenant Harvey sir. Still he may just be having engine trouble.” I saw him take his tunic off and roll up his sleeves. I had no doubt the he would get to the bottom of this problem.

  I saw Freddie hurrying over to me. He waved to one of his chaps. “Sir, I need to speak with you.”

  “Of course Freddie, what is it?”

  “Your new chap, Jenkin, he pulled out of formation to chase a Fokker. That is why the Albatros were able to hit you and Hazell and the others.”

  “The others?”

  “Yes sir. When he pulled out Lieutenant Fall followed him. You can’t blame him. The orders are to follow the bus in front.”

  “Thanks Freddie. I shall have a word with the two of them later on.” I had a sudden flash of memory. It was like déjà vu. I had had pilots do this before. They jeopardised the whole squadron with their self centred and selfish behaviour. First I reported to Randolph. Archie, Ted and Gordy were there and the whisky was open.

  “You are right Bill, those new Fokkers are handy little buses. They cleared away a bit quickly though.”

  I began to fill my pipe and I nodded, “I reckon they do have shorter endurance. The others hung around a lot longer.”

  “Sorry about your chaps, Gordy.”

  He nodded glumly. “It wasn’t anybody’s fault either. The Bristol was hit by ground fire just as he began to pull up to escape the Fokkers. I thought he had made it but he didn’t seem to have enough power to escape and he nosedived into the German lines. They wouldn’t have known anything about it, either of them.”

  I frowned. Our engines had been reliable for some time. Why this sudden loss of efficiency?

  “I will have to have a word with Jenkin and Fall. Freddie said they pulled out of formation.”

  Ted nodded, “I saw that. I figured something must have happened.”

  “Something did. Lieutenant Jenkin decided to go after a triplane and Jack Fall followed him.”

  Archie nodded, “Use my office. I am going to take a leaf out of your book and have a bath.”

  “Thanks sir.” I went to the ante office and said to Senior Flight Sergeant Jameson, “Could you send Lieutenant Jenkin and Lieutenant Fall to the Colonel’s office? I need to have a word with them.”

  “Yes sir.”

  I filled my pipe as I sat down in Archie’s chair. I needed to calm myself down. They were both young pilots. I knew that many pilots, these days, came directly from school and to them war was a game; an extension of cricket or rugby. We did not, however, have the luxury of being able to give them a long period to settle in. They had to hit the ground running. I struck a match to light the pipe.

  Jameson tapped on the door and said, “The pilots you wish to see Major.”

  “Come in!”

  There was a huge contrast in the attitude of the young men. Lieutenant Fall looked distraught while Jenkin had a confident almost happy look.

  “Sit down.” My pipe had gone out and I took a moment to relight it.

  Lieutenant Fall burst out, “I am so sorry sir. I couldn’t see beyond the other buses and I didn’t know that the Germans were there.”

  Jenkin gave him a superior look and shook his head. The pipe was drawing well and helped to keep me calm. “The fact remains, Jack, that you have a mirror and can see what is behind you. You knew that the air was clear there. You job is to follow the flight. I accept that the orders are to follow the bus in front and that somewhat mitigates your actions.”

  “Mitigates? I am sorry sir, but we are here to shoot down the Hun not to fly in nice straight lines. I saw a German and I went after him.”

  I nodded and gave Lieutenant Jenkin a smile, “You shot down the German did you?”

  “Well no sir. I mean it was my first time up I had to get my eye in.”

  “And while you were getting your eye in, four of our aeroplanes were hit and two of our pilots wounded. If we have to go up tomorrow we will be down to half our numbers. Yes, you need to, as you say, get your eye in, but the first thing you need to do is learn how to fly in combat. I am disappointed in you both, especially you Jack. I had high hopes for you. I will not make this a written reprimand but any more deviations from the standing orders will result in punishment.”

  “Yes sir.”

  “Sir that is unfair. I was only doing my best. I should not be punished for that!”

  “And you are not being punished, however if that is your best then I am not impressed, lieutenant! Get out of my sight before I do ground you!”

  My bath, that evening, was more than welcome. Bates gave me a disapproving look as he poured a kettle of boiling water in to warm it up. He prided himself on the perfect temperature of the water. “Will you be flying in the morning sir? I was talking to Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery and he thought there might be a problem with your aeroplane.”

  “I am not sure. It may be we are not needed tomorrow. Certainly I could do with another couple of days to find the mettle of these new pilots.”

  He stuck his finger in the water and nodded his approval. “They are school boys, sir. They are like the boys in the first fifteen at my school. They were all told by everyone that they were the brightest and the best and they believed it. They bullied those not in the team and they were insufferable when they were successful.”

  “You hated them then?” I stepped into the bath which was just the right temperature.

  “At the time I did but then I felt sorry for them. There is no way that they can live up to the dream they all hold. I saw the same men at Loos and Ypres. They came back shivering wrecks or didn’t come back at all. I found myself admiring those who fought back against the nerves and became damned good officers. Beg pardon, sir.”

  “No, Bates I understand. So you are saying that I should go easy on them?”

  “Oh no sir. I am saying that they can handle it. Their egos will be bruised but better a bruised ego than a shattered body. The ones who fail to live up to your standards, well that is life isn’t it sir? But mark my words sir, more of them will end up like Mr Holt and Mr Carrick and that, in the long run, is a good thing.”

  My philosopher servant left. I had only ever been to a village school and I had learned what I knew in the cavalry but Bates was right. I could not spare the rod. It might cost men their lives.

  I was on my way to dinner when Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery button holed me. “Have you got a moment, sir?”

  The Senior Mechanic never bothered me at dinner time
and I knew that it was important. “Of course, Raymond.”

  He led me towards the aeroplanes. They were all neatly parked although there was plenty of space between them in case of air attack. He waved the sentry away and took me to a workbench.

  “When I spoke to the lads they told me about problems with the engines. They all said the same thing. Engines were misfiring. So far, it has been irritating rather than dangerous. I looked at your bus sir, because I know the lads take the best care of that one. The engine seemed fine. I thought it might be the fuel, you know, dirt in it or something like that and then I recalled that we filter it all before we put it in.” He pointed to a metal tank. “That is your fuel tank sir. I had it taken out.”

  “A little extreme eh Flight?”

  “I wanted to be sure. Now you didn’t have much fuel left. You could have only lasted five more minutes in the air so we drained your fuel and then washed it out.” He held up a metal dish. “This is what we found in your tank.”

  There were tiny pieces of metal in the bottom. “Isn’t this normal?”

  “For an old engine and tank? Probably but yours is brand new. Mr Carrick has a brand new aeroplane, only been up twice and we found the same in his.”

  “I may be being thick here Flight but explain it to me so that I know exactly what you are saying.”

  “I am saying sir, that we have a saboteur on the base. Someone is putting pieces of metal in with the fuel. The further you fly the more chance you have of the metal getting into the engine and making you crash. Today was just such a day.”

  “So Lieutenant Harvey could have crashed because his engine was sabotaged, rather than being shot down.”

  “I think so sir.”

  “Who else knows about this?”

  “No-one sir. I sent the lads to dinner while I checked it myself.”

  “Keep it that way. I will make sure we have no operations tomorrow. I want every fuel tank taking out and cleaning before we fly again.”