1915 Fokker Scourge (British Ace Book 2) (12 page)

“We do not do that very often.  The rear Lewis is handy if we are attacked from above and behind.  Luckily the Germans find it hard to do that.  The Aviatik only has a
gun at the rear and the Fokker‘s gun is aligned above the propeller.  They can make mincemeat of you if they are below you but a Fokker above you is, largely, impotent.”

Johnny drained his tea. “There must be a way to protect our blind spot.”

I remembered the conversation with Gordy, Ted and Billy. “Lieutenant Campbell and I came up with an idea.” I placed the three empty cups in a circle. “We would fly in a circle so that we each protected the rear of the others.  It would mean that we would progress slower as we would be circling but, at a pinch, it might save us.”

“Has anyone tried it yet sir?”

“No Freddy.  If we have to use it you will know because I will fly in a circle around to Johnny’s tail.  It is the same principle, follow my leader.”

I went to see Captain Marshall and the colonel. I explained ab
out the ambushes. “You see sir, they have someone over there who is trying to use the poorer aeroplanes they have to wrest the advantage from us. I think we played into their hands before because we were single aeroplanes.  They were using five or six to one to guarantee a kill. It would be a war of attrition and they would wear us down.”

“This could still
happen though, Bill.  Even with a flight of three of our aeroplanes they would outnumber by two to one. And they still have the advantage.”

“The point is, Captain Marshall, that the worry that Bill, here, has is that they are coming from behind our lines.  How?”

I had been thinking of the problem. “Unless they have an airfield behind our lines, and I have ruled that out, then they must be coming over early.”

“Wouldn’t the ground troops hear them?”

“Not if they flew high. Then they could turn and drop to a much lower altitude and watch for us.”

“And that means that they must be waiting somewhere close to the airfield.”

The colonel stood and examined the map.  “Then tomorrow we will try to trap those Germans ourselves. Captain Marshall I want an officers’ briefing before dinner tonight.”

We took off before dawn. We had two lines of mechanics lining the field with hand
held oil lamps to mark the runway. We risked the German aeroplanes seeing the lights but we had not devised a better way to take off in the dark as yet. Major Leach’s flight had not taken off with the rest of us.  They would be the bait. The three flights headed west. We did not fly high; we had no need to. We flew with a four mile gap between us. We would wait well behind out own lines. I was given the southern sector as I had the least experienced flight.  We assumed it would be Gordy’s flight in the middle who would engage the enemy.

We watched the sun rise before us and the glorious July morning showed us an empty sky. There was nothing.  We flew a box pattern at a thousand feet. Below us we could see in the distance the men in the trenches coming to life. Tendrils of smoke from fires trickled into the air.  We saw movement along the communication trenches.  But of the Germans we saw nothing. Then I heard Sharp’s voice.  “There, sir, to the north.  It looks like Lieutenant Hewitt has spotted them.”

I looked where he pointed.  I could see the Fokkers fleeing east, hotly pursued by Gordy and his flight.  They were heading towards the south east. “Let’s see if we can cut them off then.”

I waved my arm and headed due east. We had superior speed, height and the Fokkers were flying into our flight path. They seemed unaware of our presence as they jinked
around the skies trying to out fly the Gunbus. They did have the advantage of more manoeuvrability. That only worked so long as they were not hit. I saw the bullets from Gordy’s gunner strike the tail of one of the Fokkers which was forced to peel off north.  The third aeroplane in Gordy’s flight swooped on to its tail.

We were now over the German lines and their soldiers were trying to help their aircraft by firing their rifles at us. We were in more danger than Gordy because we were still some way from the Fokkers.  We were
, however, gaining hand over fist.  They seemed to be drawn towards us.

“Whenever you are ready Charlie, have a pop.”

“Sir!”

When the Lewis opened fire it seemed unnaturally loud. The bullets flew over the cockpit of the first Fokker.  The second took evasive action and headed north east. I glanced to my left and saw Gordy peeling off after him.  We kept on after our victim. He tried every trick in the book.  He rose and then dived, he flicked left and then right.  He even tried to bank right and that was his undoing. Johnny’s gunner gave him a burst and I saw pieces fly from the tail of the Fokker. Never the most stable of aeroplanes it began to yaw and pitch.  That made it a more difficult target.
Sharp gave another burst but the bullets flew over the top of the Fokker as it pitched, alarmingly, towards the ground. It was hard to predict where it would turn next.

Suddenly it flew in front of Freddy’s aeroplane and his gunner stitched a neat line along the fuselage. The pilot tried to bank and turn away but, as he did so, he brought his aeroplane directly into Sharp’s sights.  He emptied the magazine. The tail disintegrated and the aeroplane began to spin towards the ground.  The brave pilot could not have survived the impact, the concussion of which threw us into the air.

I waved us back home.  The flight had their first Fokker. I was pleased.  They had both followed orders and kept their heads.  I doubted that the Hun would try that trick again.  However, as we headed home, I was under no illusions: they would come up with something else.  They had inventive minds.

Gordy accounted for a second Fokker and the third had limped lamely home. It meant that July and August proved to be quiet months. The Hun appeared to have had enough in our part of the front. Holt and Carrick became well bedded in and gained a great deal of confidence from the success of their one combat and our success as observers.

 
In those first two weeks in September we ruled the skies.  As we later discovered that was not necessarily true across the whole of the Western Front but for us, in our sector, it was. The Germans just used anti aircraft fire to discourage us as we observed for the artillery and bombed the roads leading to the front. Now that we were freed from the shackles of Major Hamilton-Grant’s orders we could fly to our target at a higher altitude and give mutual support.  We did suffer damage; the German gunners became more accurate. We did not, however, lose any aeroplanes and that was important.

During the last week in August I was summoned to the adjutant’s o
ffice.  The Colonel, Major Leach and Captain Marshall were all there. “We have just had the letter back from the War Office, Lieutenant Harsker.  I am afraid that they have turned down your V.C.  I am sorry.  I think it was that unfortunate court martial which coloured their judgement.”

I shook my head.  “You can’t miss what you never had and besides I think the ones who receive that honour are far braver than I was.”

The Colonel shook his head, “Your modesty does you great credit sir.  However what is in my remit is to promote deserving officers. Congratulations, Captain Harsker.”

I was stunned.  The
Major and Captain Marshall shook my hand and said, “Well done.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

“You say nothing.” Captain Marshall handed me the extra pip. We had all gained our second pip when we had become Flight Commanders but this was something entirely different.

I left the tent, stunned. Gordy and Ted were just leaving the officers’ mess and, seeing my face, assumed it was bad news.

“What’s up Bill?”

“Bad news?”

I forced a smile, “No, just the opposite.  I have been promoted to captain.”

There was a second while they took the news in and then they snapped a salute, “Sir, yes sir!”

“Now don’t you two start.”

They laughed, “No, Bill, we are pleased for you and when you get that V.C…”

“No, Gordy, they turned me down.  The court martial.”

“That bastard,
Hamilton-Grant.  Even though he has gone he is still messing things up for us.  Well never mind. We’ll have to celebrate.  The next pass we get we’ll take a car into Boulogne and have a jolly boys’ outing.”

I brightened.  That would be an excellent idea.
With no activity on our front the colonel gave permission for the three of us to have a two day pass.  Major Leach was happy to be left with all the younger pilots; he had heard of our idea for a defensive circle and was keen to practise the manoeuvre while the front was so quiet. We borrowed the colonel’s car, a Lanchester, which purred along beautifully.  I was given the honour of driving, of course.  Sergeant Sharp was philosophical about having to remain behind. “Well sir. I thought that I could try to make the front a little more bullet proof. It feels awfully exposed up there.”

I did not envy him his task.  He had to use a lightweight material which would stop, or slow down a bullet. Unless he had an alchemy set I did not think he would succeed.  I was just happy that he was thinking about improving our machine. Up in the air it was the only thing between us and certain death.

As we boodled along the quiet roads of northern France it was hard to imagine that there was a war on.  While Belgium and the Franco German border was a muddy morass of trenches barbed wire and machine guns, here, in the Pas de Calais, all was peace and calm.  I gestured with my arm.  “It is hard to believe that just less than a year ago I was riding across this very land with the Lancashire Yeomanry.”

“You had a real war before you ever got in the air.  Do you miss those days?”

“I miss the fact that when you went into a fight your comrades were so close you could speak to them but I do not miss the slaughter.  The back of a horse is no place to be when someone is machine gunning you.”

There was silence until Gordy asked, “Do you think we can win this war?”

“And I thought I was the pessimist.  Of course we can win this war.”

“No Ted, you miss my point.  I mean can anyone win this war? No matter how good we are in the air, and, let’s face it, we have the Germans beaten in the air at the
moment; the war is stuck in the trenches.  We have seen the infantry trying to walk their way across the mud.  All you need is a few dozen machine guns and no infantry in the world can cross No-Man’s Land.  That means German or British or French. We could be here for years.”

I laughed, “Ted is right you have switched bodies over night. I have to believe that we will win.  Our cause is right.  It was the Germans and the Austrians who started this war.  They were the ones who invaded Belgium. The Belgian army was a joke.  They couldn’t have withstood an attack by a Yeomanry battalion let alone regulars.  The Germans saw it as an easy way to get into France by the back door. Our mistake was not flanking them early in the war and now we are stuck here.  But we will win.  We have an Empire.  There are Australian and Canadian squadrons
ready to fight.  India is sending thousands of men.  The problem is the Germans look to be making it a war of attrition and we will win but only because we are the last man standing.  I fear we will go home to a land without those lads we grew up with.”

Gordy had deflated us like a barrage balloon punctured by.303. However when we saw the sea ahead we brightened. Our French was not perfect but it mattered not a jot.  There were so many English troops passing through that most people spoke English
or at least understood us.  We acquired rooms at a pleasant hotel up in the town.  It afforded a view of the castle and the port.  It suited us. We had money to burn and did not question the prices.

Our mood really improved when we walked along the front and saw the sea lapping on the beach.  We could just make out the coast of England.
It was our home.  It was where our families lived. We were stopping the Germans from hurting our homes and destroying the land as had been done in Belgium. That was good enough. It was a reminder of why we were fighting.

The brisk stroll down the beach gave us an appetite and we found a bar with a couple of tables outside. This was something we would never have done in England but, here, it seemed appropriate somehow. We ordered beer and moules frites. It was as near to fish and chips as we could get.  The steaming mountain of mussels seemed daunting at first but we made short work of them.  Mopping up the garlicky juices with the baguette made us think that we were miles away from any war. Another two icy beers later and we were relaxed.  We could have been three gents on holiday before the war.
As I sipped the beer I had no idea how the owner kept it so cold. I suspected a deep dark cellar.

“You know lads,” Ted
leaned back as he smoked his cigarette, “the war has done one thing for us.  It has broadened our horizons. I mean if the war hadn’t come along would we be here; in France drinking beer and eating moules frites?”

I tapped my pipe out and began to clean it, “You are right.  I would have made Blackpool for a couple of days if I was lucky.  The rest of the time I would have been on the estate.”

“Can we go back to that?”

Gordy had taken me aback.  None of us had thought beyond the war. Could I go back to saying yes sir no sir three bags full sir?  I was used to giving orders.  I loved horses but I could not do what my dad did.  What the hell could I do?  What would any of us do?
It made me think about the future for the first time in a long time.