1915 Fokker Scourge (British Ace Book 2) (32 page)

I banked left and was pleased to see my wingmen had kept formation.  The thought flickered through my head that they must be used to me by now and knew which way I would be likely to turn. It proved crucial for three of us with six guns suddenly had the sides of four aeroplanes before us. As we had discussed
before we took off the three pilots all fired at the Fokker before us whilst the gunners were able to aim at vulnerable spots on the aircraft.

I aimed the Gunbus at the engine of the Fokker and fired. As it banked right
to avoid me the bullets stitched a line along the fuselage and I hit the pilot. The aeroplane plunged to the ground. Two of the other three had been hit too and one was spiralling to its death whilst the third was limping east.  As with all such aerial combats the sky had cleared as aeroplanes followed each other to battle it out in the blue skies over France. Our flight was the only one together.  I saw three Fokkers to the east and they were pursuing Archie and one of his flight.  I banked to lead my flight to his rescue. 

I could see that the second of the aeroplanes was taking hits on the engine.  The gunners of both aeroplanes were standing and firing at the Fokkers but they were below the two Gunbuses.  It would only be a matter of time before they struck something vital.

The monoplanes were so engrossed on their victims that they did not see us as we screamed down to attack them. Six Lewis guns can cause massive destruction and the last aeroplane in their line was hit by at least three guns.  It slowly spun to earth.  Sharp sprayed the next aeroplane and I saw Sergeant Laithwaite targeting the first.  With Holt and Carrick firing at the first Fokker I aimed our Gunbus at the other and fired. It too was hit and caught fire.

The Fokkers all destroyed, Archie turned around and headed west.  I took station behind the damaged Gunbus
. I saw that it was Lieutenant Reed.  He waved as I circled him.  He was telling me he could still fly.  His rudder looked to have been damaged and there was a little smoke coming from his engine.  Rolls Royce, however, built good engines. He would get back.

I saw one Gunbus lying in No-Man’s Land and wondered if it was Garrington-Jones.
I could see movement near it which meant that it was possible that the gunner and pilot had survived. There were the burning wrecks of a couple of bombers.  Ted had done his job.

As I came in to land I saw Lieutenant Garrington-Jones’ Gunbus on the ground.  He had not been hit; I wondered whose was
the aeroplane I had seen in No-Man’s Land. When I saw Ted and a second Gunbus, I knew it had to be one of his flight.  I was a little disappointed it had not been the arrogant Lieutenant and then immediately felt guilty. I was dong him a disservice. He might change and become a good pilot.  It could happen.

Archie strode over.  “Thanks Bill.  I owe you and your lad
dies a glass of malt each.”

“My pleasure.”

His smile turned to a scowl as he scanned the field, “And I will have that young cockerel’s balls for this.” I cocked my head to one side. “When we climbed to engage the Fokkers he chased a bomber off to the north.  That is why we were outnumbered.  They did the turn and came up on Godfrey’s rear.”

When we reached the office Lieutenant Garrington-Jones was cheerfully telling Captain Marshall of his success. “And we got on his tail and the two of us filled him with lead.  The pilot and observer both died and I saw it crash.” He looked triumphantly in my direction.  “One aeroplane on my second flight out, I think I will soon be in double figures!”

I thought Archie would explode, “Not as a pilot you won’t.  You are suspended from flying and, until further notice you will be my gunner!”

“But you can’t do that! I am a pilot and I destroyed an enemy aeroplane.”

“And you disobeyed orders and nearly got Lieutenant Reed killed.” He turned to me, “Tell Sergeant Sharp he is now a pilot in A Flight.”

The young lieutenant turned to the others crowded in the office to look for some support.  There was none.  Reed was popular and no one liked the arrogance of Lieutenant Garrington-Jones.  Once again he stormed, petulantly from the office.  Captain Marshall said, “I think, so long as the lieutenant is based here I had better get the door strengthened.”

The only person who was unhappy about the decision was Garrington-Jones. Charlie was
now a pilot and Lumpy was happy to be back with me and his best friend Sergeant Laithwaite. I wondered how the petulant schoolboy that was Garrington-Jones would take his punishment.  Lieutenant Holt had appreciated the experience and was a better pilot because of it.  I am not sure that the one kill wonder would do so.

The colonel decided to increase our patrols.  The Germans had shown that they were, once again
, active.  Perhaps the stalemate at Verdun had released more Fokkers for our sector but the Colonel was a clever man and he would not allow the Hun to steal the initiative.

Lieutenant Holmes and Flight Sergeant Arkwright arrived with their broken aeroplane.  It was wrecked beyond repair but Senior Sergeant Lowery could use the parts for spares.  Both
pilot and gunner were shaken up and a day or two off flying duties would be welcome.  Landing in No-Man’s Land was like playing Russian Roulette with three rounds in the chamber.  They had both been lucky and their state of mind would not be conducive to efficient flying.  We would fly with eleven aeroplanes and patrol three sectors.  C Flight would fly with A Flight. They would have a new pilot in the shape of Sharp and a new gunner in the form of Garrington-Jones.  It made sense to give them Gordy’s two aeroplanes.

Ted and I celebrated in the mess that night.  I had two kills to my credit as did Ted. He was as modest as ever.  “Yours have more value, Bill, they were fighters.  I could knock a bomber out of the sky with a catapult.”

“I think you are exaggerating. They have a rear gunner and can do some damage.” He shrugged, “By the way where is Gordy?”

“He had a letter waiting for him. It smelled of roses and so it must be from his lady love.”

“Mary?” He nodded.  I began to fill my pipe.  I wondered what the letter would bring.  I hoped, for Gordy’s state of mind that it would be good news.

Just then Archie walked in with a bottle of malt.  There was a large dinner gong on the table.  I suspect someone had stolen it on a leave. He banged it loudly and the mess servants came
rushing in.  Archie waved them away.

“Gentlemen,“ I noticed Gordy come in, drawn by the noise, “come in Lieutenant Hewitt and join your friends.” He came over and sat next to Ted and me.  It was then I noticed the colonel in the corner smoking another of Colonel Berthier’s cigars
.

“Gentlemen as I was saying.  Captain Harsker and his flight saved my bacon and that of Lieutenant Reed today.  I promised him a glass of malt!”

Ted grumbled, loud enough for Archie to hear, “Miserable bloody Scotsmen. Tight as!”

Archie was in a good mood and he chuckled, “There is a reason why we are so thrifty with our malt, laddie.  It is the life blood of Scotland we only share it with those who deserve it. We are honouring Captain Harsker.”

I saw Lieutenant Garrington-Jones begin to rise.  Archie roared like a Sergeant Major, “That officer sit down, sir, and learn some manners! I am the President of the Mess!”

A red faced lieutenant sat, reluctantly
, down.

“Now where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?
”  He gave a mock glare in Ted’s direction.  “Ah that is right, honouring Captain Harsker.  However, while I was getting the malt from the safe in my sporran,” he was warming to the task and everyone laughed, “we received a message from the French.” Johnny and Freddy must have exchanged a look because the major wagged the finger of the hand holding the glass. “No Lieutenant Holt, they do not need you again.  They contacted us to tell us that Captain Harsker has been awarded their highest honour, the Legion d’Honneur, Chevalier.” There was stunned silence.  He walked over to me.  “This is rarely awarded to someone who survives a heroic act.” His voice became so sincere I thought his voice might crack. “You are a brave laddie and I am proud to serve with you.”

He turned to the mess, “So I will give him the whole bottle and he can give me a glass in return!”

The mess, with one exception, erupted.  I was patted on the back and showered with praises.  My head swam.  To win one medal was beyond my wildest dreams but to win two was unthinkable. The bottle of malt was soon emptied and we went on to the brandy.  Garrington-Jones made an early exit and was the only one not to toast me. It was one of the best days of my life; not just winning the medal, although that was something to be proud of, it was the respect of my peers which meant more to me.  The Colonel, the Major, Captain Marshall, Gordy, Ted and all the lieutenants, bar one held this estate worker from Lancashire in high esteem.  The colonel was right. War was a great leveller.

Despite the drink we were all ready for our morning patrol.  We did not make
it a dawn patrol. The colonel thought we had more chance of catching the Germans if we flew later.  Now that we had communication with the front we had a better idea of when they would be out and about. We were ordered to fly as far into German territory as we could manage. Our recent successes had made us more confident. The middle sector was taken by the Major and his two flights.  Ted took the northern flank and I was given the southern flank.

Lumpy was delighted to be back with me and he was also happy about Sergeant Sharp’s elevation.  “And he’ll be an officer too.  He’ll be a decent one.  Not like some I know who are not a million miles away and sat in my former seat.”

“Lumpy!”

“No names and no pack drill: I am just saying.  I am glad to be back.”

As we climbed to our patrol altitude I knew that I was lucky.  I had had two gunners and both were dependable.  Others could not say the same. I wondered how the arrogant young lieutenant would cope in the front cockpit. I had occupied it and knew the dangers therein. As we crossed the British lines I emptied my head of such thoughts.  You had to concentrate in the air for one moment of distraction could cost you your life.

We were looking for movements behind the German lines.  Since the German attack had stalled at Verdun the generals appeared, from what we could gather, to be looking for another place to attack.
We headed south along the German trenches.  We could see to the east as well as keeping an eye on the Germans below. Compared with the front around Loos it appeared to be almost peaceful below.  The ground looked to have fewer craters in them and there were tendrils of smoke rising from the cooking fires of the soldiers.

I waved to the other two and we headed east to look at the roads and the railways. There were few vehicles on the road and we could see no build up of forces there.
We returned home safely and with a full complement of aeroplanes and men. We landed, partly relieved to have escaped unscathed and also disappointed to have had such an uneventful patrol.

The others had also had no encounters with the enemy.  The difference was that we were the only ones who had discovered a weaker sector of the German lines.
It was decided that all three flights would now investigate the area as far south as Amiens and the Somme River. This was new territory for the squadron although my flight had skirted this area on our way to Verdun.  We had not been looking for enemies on the ground then rather we were scanning the air for other birds of prey.

We reached the area some forty minutes after leaving our airfield. We left on our pre arranged patrols to gather information.  We headed for Cambrai. It looked, from the air, as though the war had never even touched it. I saw neither vehicles nor the grey of uniforms. I was about to return anyway when Lumpy shouted, “Sir, I can see an airfield!”

He had good eyes and I looked where he pointed. I could see the windsock and the unmistakeable shapes of aeroplanes on the ground. “Mark it on the map and let’s get out of here.”

We found the others at the rendezvous and set off north. I was desperate to warn the major of the presence of German aeroplanes but, at that time of the war, we had no means of communicating whilst in the air. I had Lumpy man the rear Lewis to keep a weather eye out for the enemy.  We were the last of the three flights and I saw that Freddy and Johnny saw what I had done and they ordered their gunners to do the same.

We were flying
economically to conserve fuel.  We were not at the limit of our range yet but we were close having tootled around the Cambrai skies for twenty minutes or so. Lumpy’s face told me that he had spotted the Germans before he shouted the news. “Sir, Germans.  They are climbing to get to us.”

“Hang on we’ll go down below the others.”

If we remained at a higher altitude we were sitting ducks and we did not have the fuel to form a circle.  By flying below the Major with the gunners on the rear Lewis it would tell the others of our danger.

I hoped that Freddy and Johnny would make it a gentle descent.  Good gunners were hard to replace. We soon reached a position fifty feet below
Major Leach.  Lumpy pointed behind.  I saw Lieutenant Garrington-Jones gingerly climb on to the rear Lewis.  Soon all eleven aeroplanes had their rear guns manned.  We were just in time as the Fokkers began firing.