1917 Eagles Fall (8 page)

We were up before dawn.  We checked the guns and the buses twice.  We needed no jammed guns this time. We fitted flights D and B with bombs.  Charlie and I would act as aerial cover.  The major joined us so that we had twenty one aeroplanes.  I had never flown such a large operation. Just before the engines started Lumpy sounded the bugle and the cavalry charge.  There was a cheer over the airfield.  I have no idea what Major General Trenchard would have made of it but it improved the morale of the squadron no end.

We headed across No-Man’s Land.  There was cloud cover but it was not low cover.” The German fighters could fly at a much higher altitude than our Gunbuses. “Flight Sergeant, keep your eyes peeled.”

“Sir.”

“Have you got your Mills bombs handy?”

“Always sir. You know I will have to think of a job for after the war where I can throw something.  I seem to have a knack for it.”

“Don’t worry, Hutton, you will do well after the war.  You have the ability to adapt to any situation.  I will probably end up working for you!”

“In which case I will make sure you are well paid, sir.”

As we crossed No-Man’s Land we both cocked our weapons. The Major and the bombing buses were a thousand feet below us.  They would see the targets sooner than we would. I saw the line of water snaking north.  It was the Canal De Saint Quentain. I watched as Archie banked.  He had seen a target.

“What is the name of that village, Lumpy?”

“Masnières, sir.”

“Mark it then.  I think the Major is going to attack.”

I banked, too, so that we were flying north to south.  That way we could watch to the east. I glanced down as the Major led the buses down.  It looked like barges had moored for the night.  Even moving they would still be an easy target. They were confined to a narrow canal. I did not have the luxury to be an observer.  I looked east. The secret was to move your head slowly and examine each piece of the sky. We heard the crump of the bombs as they struck.  There was one loud explosion which sounded as though we had hit ammunition. Lumpy and I had to focus on the skies.

There was a lull below us as we turned at the end of the leg and headed north again.  The Gunbuses would be beginning their second run. I hoped they would only use two runs.  We were pushing our luck as it was. Lumpy saw them as soon as I did. I recognised them as a mixture of Fokker D.III and D.II.  The D.III had the twin machine guns. They were heading in two V formations directly for the Major and the rest of the squadron.  We had the advantage of altitude.  It was our only advantage and I was about to throw it away when we dived.

“Here we go.  Usual procedure, Lumpy, I’ll go for the Hun ahead and you enjoy yourself.”

“Very kind of you sir.”

I hoped that I would be able to change my magazine for I knew that we would need it. As we dived down I saw six Fokkers peel off and rise towards us. They formed two lines. The bad news was that these were D.III.  We were in for a world of pain. I decided to burst through the middle of them. We were so big that we would break up their formation. It also meant that the two flights would be able to bring all our guns to bear. The leading pilot made the mistake of firing too soon. He barely missed us; one bullet pinged off the stanchion holding the rear firing Lewis. You have to assume that the bullets will miss you.  If you flinched you might be dead.  I had to keep us as stable as possible. I opened fire as did Lumpy.  I saw my bullets arc and I corrected our descent until I saw them strike his engine.  I had no propeller in front of me.

They rose above us and the last of my magazine was emptied into his belly as he soared above me.  I quickly tried to change the magazine as the next Fokker flight rose towards us. My arm had healed up but it seemed to take an age.  Hutton was firing for he had changed his magazine already. I had just changed it when the Hun’s bullets ripped into the front cockpit.  I heard a scream as Hutton was hit.  I opened fire and had the satisfaction of hitting the Fokker’s engine.

I began to bank and head west. Below me I saw two burning buses and the rest heading west. We could head home… if the Germans would allow us to. Suddenly I felt the thud of Parabellum rounds as they hit the engine.  I needed Lumpy on the rear gun.  “Hutton we have a German on our tail.”

I heard a sob of pain and Flight Sergeant Hutton held up what remained of his left hand.  It was a bloody stump. His hand and part of his wrist had been shattered. He had had the wit to fashion a tourniquet. He tried to turn towards me. “I am sorry…” His head slumped forward. I hoped his tourniquet was tight else he would bleed to death before I could land. I had no time to reflect on his wounds for more bullets struck the engine and I felt the loss of power. My bus was mortally wounded. I banked right in an effort to throw him off.  The ground seemed to be coming at me rapidly… too rapidly and I pulled back on the stick. The old bus seemed sluggish.  I was not certain I could land.  “Come on old girl.  Lift your nose.”

What saved us was the huge expanse of wings. Ever so slowly the nose came up. I saw the roof of a half destroyed house loom ahead of me.  We barely cleared it but I think it must have thrown off the aim of the German behind because the bullets stopped.

“Well Lumpy, it’s time to get home and get you seen to.” There was an ominous silence from the front cockpit. I was too low to risk looking behind me and I was not certain how much power I had left.  I would keep at a lower altitude in case we had to crash land. I reached down for the Very pistol. I risked lifting the nose a little when I was a mile from the field.  I saw Gunbuses taxiing along the green sward as I fired my pistol.  I could see huddles of men around the parked aeroplanes.  The Major had suffered casualties too.

The engine gave a sickly cough as we cleared the hedgerow. We were landing but it was the Gunbuses’ choice, not mine. There was an ugly crunch as the undercarriage hit the ground too hard and one wing dropped alarmingly to the ground.  If we flipped then we were both dead.  Luckily the lower wing bit into the ground and we slewed around.  The tail lifted a little before crashing to the ground and we were down.

I scrambled out and ran to the cockpit.  Doc Brennan and his orderlies, as well as the fire crews, were running towards us too. When I saw the front of the cockpit it looked like a colander. I dreaded what I would see. I put my hand on Hutton’s neck and felt a pulse.  He was still alive.

Doc Brennan reached me. “How are you Bill?”

“Not a scratch but Lumpy has lost a hand.”

“Right.  Clear off then.  You are only in the way.”

It was brutally true and I stepped away from the wrecked aeroplane. My hands were shaking.  I took my pipe out to fill it.  I counted the aeroplanes as they landed.  We had lost aeroplanes.  I also saw slumped and bloodied gunners. The twin Spandau machine guns had decimated our squadron. Flight Sergeant Hutton was still, mercifully, unconscious as he was cut free from the cockpit and laid upon a stretcher. I wandered over. 

Doc Brennan held something in his hand.  “Your sergeant might lose his hand, possibly his arm, but he has been extremely lucky.” He handed me the mangled bugle which had lain in his lap. “I think the bullets hit this and were deflected into his hand.  If it weren’t for the bugle then they would have gone through him and, I suspect, your legs too.  You have both been lucky.”

I did not feel lucky.

He followed the stretcher and I examined the bugle.  A spent shell dropped out of it. It would never be played again but it had done a job I never imagined it performing. I took it with me.  We would put it in the Sergeants’ Mess as a reminder.  Lumpy’s war was over but I could not even begin to conceive of his one armed future. He might become one of the crippled beggars from the Boer War who lived on Liverpool’s streets.

I saw both Freddie and Johnny.  They, too, were distraught. The two corpses covered in blankets told their own stories.  Their gunners had not had the luck that Lumpy had. Jack Laithwaite had been Lumpy’s best friend and was almost his equal as a gunner.  He too would never fly again. I knew that he had a wife and three children back in Blighty.  Another family would have to learn to live without a breadwinner.

Charlie caught us up. “I am sorry, sir.  I tried to get to you when Pete Harrington bought it but didn’t make it in time.  Sorry.”

I shook my head, “It was an accident waiting to happen.” I suddenly realised what it meant.  I had lost one of my flight.  I turned to look at the field.

Freddie said, “Piers Gerard bought it too.”

“And I lost poor Lieutenant Kay. He had two missions and both ended badly. Connor and Morley didn’t make it either.”

We had lost five aeroplanes in one day.  Archie had been right; the general’s offensive strategy had cost us a quarter of our pilots and even more gunners.

When we reached the office Archie already had the whisky bottle out.  “Well we can tell the general that the mission was a great success.  We destroyed ten barges! Of course I have fifteen letters to write to the families of the dead and the wounded but we sank the bloody barges!”

Randolph coughed, “Well Bill, while the major composes himself what kind of fighters were they?”

“It was a mixture of Fokker D.III and D.II.  They can out fly, out run, out climb and out gun us. Those twin machine guns make mincemeat out of us.  The front of my bus had so many holes it looked like the mice had been at it.” I held up the mangled bugle.  “Lumpy is lucky.  He has lost his hand but he could have been like Jack Laithwaite and lost his life. The steel jacketed shells just cut through everything.  With only one machine gun firing at us we had some sort of chance but two means that they can’t miss.  They aim their aeroplane at us and fire. I hit both the Fokkers that hit me but all I struck was the engine.  One was damaged but the second was still flying.”

“No it wasn’t Bill.  I hit him. You can have half a kill!” Charlie was smiling.

“I don’t want half a bloody kill! I want my gunner whole again! Can you fix that Charlie?”

He looked as though I had slapped him, “Sorry Bill I …”

Gordy put his arm around me, “Steady on Bill.  It isn’t Charlie’s fault. Go and have a bath and a drink.  I’m sure Bates is waiting.” I turned and glared at him.  I just wanted a fight with someone.  There were no Germans around and my friends were bearing the brunt. Gordy smiled, “I remember when I was going off the rails and you set me straight.  Let an old mate do the same for you eh?”

I knew he was right. “Sorry Charlie, sorry chaps. You are right Gordy.  I’ll call back later with my report, Randolph.”

“No hurry Bill.  I am not certain we can manage to fly tomorrow anyway.”

As I walked through the base I saw the sick bay.  There was little point in trying to visit Lumpy.  Doc would still be working on him as well as the other wounded. I realised that I still had the bugle in my hand. Bates was, as Gordy had said, waiting for me outside my room. There was a large whisky in his hand. He took the bugle from me and handed me the whisky. He reverently laid the mangled instrument on my bedside table.

“Here you are, sir.  Have this one and then take your bath. It is lovely and hot.” I swallowed the neat whisky in one. “That’s the ticket, sir.” He put the glass down and then took off my tunic. “The Mess Sergeant told me he has had a consignment of fresh meat today. I think you are in for a fine dinner.  It looks like roast beef.  Of course I don’t think his Yorkshire Puddings will be a patch on your mother’s. They were the best I had ever eaten.  I watched her make them but I don’t think I could copy her.  You are born with that kind of skill aren’t you sir?”

I was aware that his senseless chatter was to make life normal for me.  I saw the pain in his eyes.  He understood what I was going through.  I would be able to talk about it but not yet.  “Thank you, John.  You are a good fellow.”

He smiled and seemed relieved, “Just doing my duty, Captain Harsker. Now off you go before the water gets cold.” He held my tunic and my greatcoat.  I saw that they both had blood and pieces of flesh on them.  I had noticed neither in the battle nor since. “I’ll get these cleaned up.  It is a good job we bought that new tunic eh sir?”

Both Gordy and Bates were right.  I did feel better when I had bathed and dressed. Lumpy had been lucky. He could be dead but he was alive.  At least I hoped he was alive.  As soon as I was dressed I ran to the sick bay.  The Sick Bay Sergeant stopped me from entering the ward.

“Now then, Captain Harsker, where do you think you are going? Flight Sergeant Hutton has just come out of surgery and he will be out for the count until morning. Doctor Brennan did a fine job and he saved the arm below the elbow.” I looked at him blankly. He smiled sympathetically, “They can fit him with a false hand sir. So you see you can do nowt here, sir.”

I had not even thought that far ahead. “Thank you Sergeant.  When he wakes tell him I was asking after him.”

“Of course sir.  You can visit in the morning.  Now go and get some food inside you. You and the rest of the flight crews have been through a lot today.” He shook his head, “Even the Doctor was shaken.”

As I left I knew what the sergeant meant.  The sick bay only had a few wounded but there were twelve dead men. That was the shock for us all.

There was no jollity in the mess that night and poor Freddie and Johnny looked to be at rock bottom.  They had both been with their gunners almost as long as I had been with Lumpy and so I knew how they felt. I rose to speak with them but Gordy restrained me. “They won’t thank you for it.  Let them sleep on it.  Tomorrow is time enough.”