1918 We will remember them (21 page)

Everyone had to set to, making the field habitable again and we had to make do with sandwiches and whisky. The late night and the fact that we only had five serviceable aeroplanes meant that we could not muster a patrol the next day. The mechanics had just recovered Wally’s wreck when the German bombers appeared. Freddie led the five Camels into the sky while everyone else grabbed any weapon we could to throw a hail of bullets in the sky. It was an amazing sight.  It was as though the whole squadron had decided that enough was enough. Even the cooks stood outside their tents shooting their Lee Enfields into the sky. The combination of ground fire and five Camels proved to be too much for the Halberstadts which were driven off with the loss of five shot down and only two new craters.

It energised the squadron and by the end of the day all the damage of the two raids was repaired. However, poor Bates was distraught that he could not draw me a bath.  The giant colander was a reminder for me that I had nearly lost not only a servant but a damned good friend.

Wally’s propeller was serviceable and meant that I was available to fly the day after we were bombed. That was the day our new Camels and pilots arrived.  Thanks to the mechanics we had nine Camels on patrol.  We were not needed as the Hun did not return. We heard later that the French had launched an attack in the south and that had drawn the German’s venom. We just needed time to regroup and reform.

The new pilots who bumped their way along our runway were welcome reinforcements but we knew that we would have a great deal of work to do with them. Archie took the decision that they would be spread amongst all the flights. “It is about time we started doing what Bill has done.  We need to make the young lads into pilots.”

On the day that we became the Royal Air Force, April the first, we were ready to become operational again. Ted was the one most amused by the change of name on April Fool’s Day.  Of all of us he was the one who had changed the most since the war had begun. He was now rarely the pessimist and even tried to look on the positive side more often than not. We were all different people from the ones who had come to France in 1914. Ironically all of our new pilots had still been at school when the war had started.

We did not have the luxury of time to train the new pilots. Although the Offensive was slowing down it was not over.  It would peter out by the fifth of April. I was lucky.  I needed no replacements.  It was decided that, when we went out on our first patrol on April second, I would provide top cover. We headed east. The line below us was now stable.  Worryingly the Germans had not made an appearance for a day or two. This was partly because of the action close to the French sector and partly because we had hurt them. What I did know was that they would return and with a vengeance.

It was a cool day with cloud cover.  I hated cloud cover.  The Germans had a habit of hiding there. I led my flight; now the most experienced in the squadron, just below the clouds.  I saw the rest of the squadron this time in lines of three as they headed north to south.  I had enough confidence in my flight to head into the cloud. I waggled my wings so that Wally knew I was about to do something. The lower edges were thin enough for Wally to see me and the rest to see him. I used my watch to time myself. We were travelling at about two miles a minute. We were flying a leg of ten miles and then turning east. After five minutes I turned.  I could see Wally behind me and I breathed a sigh of relief when he, too, turned.  After another minute I waggled my wings and I descended.

As I came out I saw, below me, the Flying Circus.  They were diving to attack Archie and the rest of the squadron.  They had been seen for the Camels were climbing to engage them. I waggled my wings and then pushed the stick forward. We would have no time to stack our Camels. We would have to attack as soon as we could. Travelling from such a height gave us added speed and we began to catch up to the Fokkers which had a slower dive than we did. I doubted that they would be looking in their mirrors.  After all, the only thing above them was the clouds!

It was the full Circus and I saw the Red Baron.  He was too far away from me to attack but I saw one with a yellow rear which I targeted. This was the hardest part.  I had to wait until I could not miss.  If I fired too early then I would warn them and I might miss. These were the best pilots the Germans had.  Voss had taken on eight pilots and nearly beaten them. Every one we shot down was irreplaceable. For the first time that I could remember we were trying to kill them.  They were like a dangerous animal.  They could not be caged; they had to be destroyed.

I waited until I was fifty yards from his tail and I gave him a good burst.  His tail disappeared and he went into a spin. I left him.  He was out of the battle and would be lucky to walk away even if he could get it down.  I banked to port and aimed at the centre of the next triplane.  He had seen me and he was desperately trying to lift his nose and bank towards me.  He was flying superbly but I had a bead on him and I gave him a long burst.  The bullets hit his fuselage and, as he turned, they stitched forward until they tore into his wing and his engine.  I must have hit the pilot too for it began to spiral a death dive to earth.

I kept the turn going and, as each Fokker came into my sights, I fired.  Wally could not fire at the same time but our oblique attack meant he, too, could fire at each Fokker as we passed. 

I jerked the stick to starboard. To this day I still do not know why but bullets cracked along my port upper wing and the Red Baron screamed by.  I took a snap shot.  I have no idea if I hit him but I turned my Camel to follow him.  If he was in my sights then I was not in his! He twisted and turned as he tried to evade me. He could not out dive me and so he began to climb.  The climb on the triplane was tremendous and even Sergeant Lowery’s modifications could not catch him.  His Achilles heel kicked in, his fuel ran low, and he began to head east.  I started to catch him. I knew that I would have to give up the chase soon but I wanted him finished.  Psychologically it would be worth more than a Fokker downed.  He was an icon. I fired and hit his tail. He twisted and began to climb.  Then he thought better of the waste of fuel and dived a little.  As he did I fired again and hit his undercarriage. I was certain that a few more minutes in the air and I would have had him but my fuel gauge screamed that I was running short of fuel.  I turned and headed west.  A hand came from the side of the cockpit and waved. He was ever the gentleman.

That was the last time I saw and fought the Red Baron. He died on the twenty first of April shot down by an Australian machine gunner. He was the best pilot I ever fought but our war became much easier the day he died. It seemed fitting that the finest fighter pilot on the Western front was not shot down by a fellow flier but a gunner with a lucky bullet.

Two of the new pilots did not make it. That was not a surprise but both Ted and Gordy were upset that their new pilots had lasted but one flight. Archie was just delighted that I had had the presence of mind to hide in the clouds. “Well done Bill.  We knocked out four of the Circus. I know we lost two pilots but…”

I looked at Archie.  It was too cynical. “I would rather we shot down fewer but that those two lads were still alive.”

“So would I, laddie, but that isn’t the way of the world.  We can replace Harrison and White but the Germans will struggle to replace those four pilots.”

It is sad that I did not even know that those were their names. The battle drifted to a quiet end.  We had no more aerial battles and by the eighth it was all over.  We even had our two replacement pilots and Headquarters were cock a hoop about our victory. It did not taste like victory to me.

We had little respite for, on the ninth, the Germans attacked further north.  Seven thousand Portuguese troops were casualties as the Germans punched a hole towards the coast.  At one point they were just fifteen miles from the sea. However we were too far away to be involved in the defence of the ports and we were given the task of going on the offensive.  Our job was to get over our old stamping ground of Cambrai and cause as much damage as we could to their supply lines. It was back to ground attack.

I saw the new armourer, Sergeant Raymond White.  He was not Percy but he seemed a competent chap.  “I need a couple of Mills bombs, sergeant.”

He raised both eyebrows but his voice was calm, “Mills bombs sir?”

I sighed, I hated having to explain. Percy would have known why I wanted them and not questioned me. “Yes Sarn’t, we are going to ground attack and I want something to lob over in case I find a defended gun position.”

“I could fit some bomb racks, sir.”

“No. It would add weight and affect the flying.  I can carry the bombs in my coat.”

“It isn’t very safe.”

I stared at him. “I have used Mills Bombs since 1915 and I am still here.”

“Then you have been lucky, sir.”

“Look, just get me a couple and that is an order!” I was aware that I had barked at him but he didn’t react.  “And I suspect some of the other more senior pilots may want them too.” I smiled, “It is why we are so successful.”

He sniffed, “Yes sir!”

I did not react well to change.

We knew that there was a railway line to the east of Cambrai.  We were going to escort ten Airco DH 5 fighter bombers.  Although designed as a fighter the strange position of the top wing made it vulnerable to attack from the rear.  However it was much faster than the Bristol and had a synchronised Vickers. I think HQ thought we might draw aeroplanes from the area around Messines.  We would be bait.

Cambrai was now well behind the enemy front lines.  All those gains of November had been lost and more. A few artillery pieces popped ineffectually at us. When we reached the railway line we let the Airco go in first while we watched for Huns.  There were none.

As we were watching I saw smoke to the east and as soon as the Airco began to machine gun the marshalling yards I led my flight east. It was a train. There were two machine guns at each end and it had ten wagons.  The driver had sensibly halted when he had seen the attack and as we approached he put it into reverse.  It was a futile gesture as we raced along at over a hundred miles an hour. I took out one Mills bomb.  There was little point in wasting bullets on an armoured train.  I flew low and then lifted the nose to rise above the train. The machine guns tried to fire at me but I was gone before they could bring their guns to bear. I dropped low when I had passed the train and I dropped my grenade before banking and sweeping around.  I saw that the grenade had damaged the track. I flew just feet from the ground and sent my bullets into the two machine gun crews.  My flight was raking the train.  Suddenly the rear carriage hit the twisted rails and the end wagons slewed off to the side.  The engineer tried to brake. I had my second grenade ready and I dropped it into the engine.  It must have bounced into the firebox for, as I zoomed away, the whole boiler erupted sending my bus into the air.

By the time I had recovered and turned the train was a burning shambles of twisted metal. We flew west looking for another target for our guns. We saw nothing worth wasting our bullets on and we headed back to our field. As we came over the German trenches I saw guns behind sandbags.  I dropped to fifty feet above the ground and machine gunned it.  In my mirror I saw the rest of the flight fire too and when we had resumed our flight the gun and crew had been destroyed.  In many ways our action was petty but it would serve to make the Germans look to the area around Cambrai and bolster their defences.

When we landed there was an air of euphoria.  We had managed to do our duty and no one had been hurt. Randolph had been surprised when we had returned to the field that the two bottles of whisky were still there.  We opened one to celebrate. Randolph pointed to the map.  “That is where the Huns are attacking.  The squadrons up there are experiencing what we did.”

It was not said with any joy.  They would be suffering the kind of losses we had suffered.  They would be losing young inexperienced pilots and they would be the fodder for the Fokkers.

Archie smiled as he lit his pipe.  I knew that he was happiest when we had no losses.  As the oldest man in the squadron he was almost old enough to be the father to some of the young pilots. “Well Randolph what do our lords and masters have planned for us tomorrow?” He frowned as a worry entered his head.  “The buggers aren’t sending us back to Cambrai are they?  The bloody Germans will be waiting for us.”

“No sir. It’s the Albert canal.  The Airco will drop the bombs on the bridges and any barges and we will deal with anything that comes our way.” He toasted me, “Like Bill’s train.”

I smiled as I tapped out my pipe.  “And I shall be asking the armourer for more Mills Bombs too!”

“He is right Bill, you would be better off with bomb racks.  You could do more damage.”

I shook my head, “We are a fighter and it would spoil the manoeuvrability of the Camel.”

“Well far be it for me to argue with an ace but I am having a couple of racks fitted. I’ll do whatever I can to end this war quickly.”

Eventually half of the squadron chose to have bomb racks.  It is like many things it worked at first but none of the pilots who had the bomb racks bothered to have them removed. It proved to be a mistake for they were not as manoeuvrable but that was in the future. We became a squadron with two roles ground attack pilots and then the others, A and C were the fighters. That evening, after dinner Freddie and Randolph sought me out.