1915 Fokker Scourge (British Ace Book 2) (30 page)

“Is that it sir? Did we stop them?”

“I doubt it Sergeant.  More than likely they have lost too many men and will be bringing up fresh regiments who haven’t failed but I do think that we have hurt their ability to attack with impunity.” I patted the cockpit.  “This is as good as any Fokker and I think that we have proved it.”

When we landed the colonel concurred with my opinion
. “We have bought another day and this was the cheapest one yet. He pointed to the mechanics beavering away repairing the whole squadron. “Soon we will be able to field eight aeroplanes and with what we have learned from you we should be able to give a better account of ourselves.”

I laughed, “Oh, so you want rid of us now?”

He smiled sadly, “No but a message came from your colonel asking how much longer we would need you.  It seems your squadron also requires your presence.” He patted my shoulder.  But we will keep you for another week eh?  Your aeroplanes need repairs.”

Sergeant Johnson gave me the bad news.  “Sorry sir, we can’t repair Mr Holt’s bus.  Not here anyway.  It’ll need to go back to the field where we have a workshop and more spares.  The engine needs a complete overhaul.  I could cobble it together but I wouldn’t trust it in the air.”

I knew that he was a good mechanic.  I believed him. “Right, get the bits on the back of the lorry.  Lieutenant Holt and his gunner can drive it back.  We will still need you lads.  He can get someone else to bring back the lorry for you.”

He smiled, “Righto sir.”

“You’re happy to be staying?”

“They’re all right these Frenchies.  And they treat us with real respect and know that’s down to you and the other pilots sir but we normally get ignored.  Here they drink a toast to us at every meal.  It makes you feel special, sir.”

“Carry on Sarn’t.”

It did not take much to give a soldier some respect and I wondered if we did not take them for granted. Certainly, we could not fly without them and yet when had we said ‘thank you’.  I was learning as much as the colonel was.

Lieutenant Holt was unhappy about being sent back but he understood why.  “I have enjoyed this sir. It was like being our own squadron. It will be hard to go back to flying with the other boys.”

“I know but we are soldiers and we follow orders.  Are you confident about driving the lorry?”

“We have a tractor on the estate and I have had a go with that.  This should be fun!”

We flew each day but the German attack had stalled.  Even when we directed the French guns to shell the support trenches it took forever for the Fokkers to appear and we were able to beat a hasty retreat. They had come to respect the ugly Gunbus. At the end of the week the first of the new aeroplanes arrived. Three of the
brand new Nieuport 11s arrived.  These were to do the job we had done.  They had one machine gun.  They were as fast and, more important had ailerons.  The Fokker used wing warping.  The fact that it was smaller and had a tighter turn meant it would easily outclass the Fokkers despite the fact that its machine gun was still mounted on the top of the wing.

While Sergeant Johnson packed up the lorry the colonel and his officers came to say goodbye. We were given a great number of gifts.  They were the kind of gift a soldier gave another soldier; they were either useful or enjoyable. The colonel gave a case of Champagne and a box of his favourite cigars.  The Sergeants’ Mess donated a fine ham.  The officers’ mess gave us a case of French Brandy.

We were all touched.  “You should know, William, that I have put you in for the award of the Legion of Honour.  The way you fought over our skies was inspiring.”

“Thank you colonel, but you
had no need to do so. I did my duty.”

He shook my hand and then kissed me on both cheeks. “None the less you deserve the honour. Take care Englishman and we will get together when this madness is finally over.”

As Carrick and I travelled north I could see that spring had finally sprung and there was green everywhere.  Everywhere, that is, that the war had not touched. The angry black scars marked where man’s hands had been.  In places it looked as though a giant had grabbed the earth with his very fingers and torn it apart. The joy of spring was tinged with the sadness of the death which lay all around us.

We had learned, from the driver of the lorry, that our squadron had been taking casualties. The young pilots just arrived from England were too naïve and had little understanding of the concept of aerial combat. To many it was just a game.  I had seen that with my two wingmen. I had changed them but four young pilots had not learned that lesson and died along with their unfortunate gunners. The field looked half empty as we landed.  There were just five aeroplanes there. I knew now why the colonel had requested an early return.

Gordy and Ted greeted me when I landed. Lieutenant Holt diplomatically went to speak with Freddy to allow me to catch up with my old friends. “I hear you have been annoying Fokkers again.”

I smiled at Gordy, “It would have been rude not to.”

“Well we missed you and no mistake. These young lads need baby minders.”

“Still as happy as ever
, eh Ted?”

He shook his head.  “I had two replacements.  One lasted a day and the second just two longer. They don’t know how to fight.”

“How is the wound then Gordy?”

“Stiff but the pain helps
me to realise that we have to be on our toes the whole time or we will be killed.”

“I had better make my report.”

As I turned, Gordy pointed to the two lieutenants.  “How did they work out?”

“It was like having you two with me.”

They knew that was the biggest compliment I could pay them and they nodded.  Ted stubbed out his cigarette and said, “They are almost veterans now.”

“I suppose that is the way it goes. If you survive more than a month here then you have a chance.  It is that first month which is the killer. Oh, by the way, the French sent over a case of brandy and a case of Champagne for our mess.” I couldn’t resist a dig at Gordy.  It would be a test of his character and if he had grown. “It’s decent stuff, Gordy, not the firelighter you like to drink.”

Ted and I watched for his reaction and he nodded.  “I deserved that and I will try a glass… but no more than the one.”

I clapped him on his back.  “You’ll do for me.”

The Colonel and the Major were waiting in Captain Marshall’s office. The both nodded when I entered.  “Well done, Bill.  That was a good job you did.  Headquarters are delighted.  The French are very pleased, deliriously so.”

“They are good chaps
, colonel and damned brave.  The buses they were using were like the BE 2 but they have a lovely aeroplane now, the Nieuport 11. I think the day of the Fokker is coming to a close.”

“That may be for them but they are still giving us some trouble.  They keep getting behind our young pilots.”

“How about using the arrow formation?  It works for Holt and Carrick.”

Archie shook his head, “We tried that but they tend to fire too soon and then the Fokker does that turn…”

“The Immelmann Turn?”

“Is that what they call it?  Anyway the German is right behind them and they get shot down.  At least line astern means that one of them has a chance.”

“One of them tried a variation on that turn with me. Instead of going over me he tried to go beneath me and then turn.”

Archie took his pipe from his mouth and tapped it on the floor. “How did you get out of that?”

“I looped and came behind him.” I chuckled, “Mind you, I almost crashed into him.”

Archie began refilling his pipe.  He used it to point while he spoke. “We have a new batch of pilots and gunners arriving today.  The colonel and I would like you, Sharp and Hutton to give them a talk about how you fly and fight as a team.”

“Me sir?”

“You are the nearest thing we have to a celebrity.  With the M.C. and a dozen kills you have gravitas.  The two gunners are also the best we have.”

“Very well sir and may I ask if you will assess Sharp as a pilot? I think he is ready.”

“Of course, Bill, but do you want to lose him?”

I gave a sly smile to Archie who had just started to get his pipe going, “Well I can always have Lumpy back can’t I, sir?”

Archie began coughing and then he laughed, “Cheeky…. Aye, laddie. He’s desperate to get back to you.  But you know there is no aeroplane for Sharp yet?”

“I know but we know that we will need replacement pilots sooner rather than later and we all know that Charlie will last longer than a rookie.”

“You are right.  I’ll test him tomorrow.  Will you tell him?”

“Yes sir and I’ll tell Lumpy about the little talk.”

The colonel gave us the Sergeants’ Mess for our talk.  There was a real contrast between the almost juvenile pilots and the gunners who looked to be much older.  Some could have passed for their fathers. There were five gunners and five pilots all told.  The colonel sat at the back with a glass of the newly acquire
d brandy smoking one of Colonel Berthier’s cigars.  After I had introduced the three of us and explained why two gunners had flown with me I began.  I kept it simple and as matter of fact as I could.  The last thing I wanted was for them to think that they were some modern reincarnation of a medieval knight.  When Lumpy and Charlie started the mood changed. They were like a couple of music hall comedians and the room was filled with laughter.  I even spotted the colonel chortling. They had a way of making everything simple. I was delighted to see relief on the gunners’ faces.  This had been a good idea of the colonel’s.

“Any questions?”

One young man who had had a snide look on his face throughout and had rarely laughed at the two sergeants’ jokes raised his hand, “Yes er…”

“Second Lieutenant Garrington-Jones sir.”

“What is your question?”

“Is it true sir that you began life as a gunner and trained to be a pilot on the job, so to speak?”

“Yes, Lieutenant.  What of it?”

“Well it is just that I wondered about the value of what you just told us.  Major
Hamilton-Grant at the training school told us that only pilots who understood the theory of aerial warfare could hope to be good pilots.”

I saw Lumpy and Charlie as their faces changed from a smile to a scowl and they bunched their fists.  I put my hands on their shoulders and smiled at the Lieutenant. “Well Lieutenant, if I tell you that the three gunners who trained, ‘on the job’ as you put it, are the only three pilots left of the ones who served at the end of 1915
then you will see that is not something of which I am ashamed.”

The other young pilots had all leaned away from Lieutenant Garrington-Jones, aware of the hole he was digging for himself. However I saw in the young man the same look as Major
Hamilton-Grant had had and he continued to burrow.

“Major
Hamilton-Grant told us that sometimes a pilot who had trained on the job might be lucky but everyone’s luck ran out sometime.  Breeding and education do not.”

I actually had no answer for such bigotry and I was lost for words.  The colonel however was not.  He angrily stubbed out his cigar, swallowed his brandy and strode forward.

“I think I have heard just about enough.” He stood before the lieutenant who still had the same supercilious smile on his face.  “Tell me Lieutenant, do you know how many German aeroplanes Major Hamilton-Grant shot down?” I saw the smile playing on the colonel’s lips.  He was laying a trap for the unwary lieutenant. “I ask because he served with this squadron.  Did he tell you that?”

“Er no sir.  How many aeroplanes?  Er let me think.  Well Captain Harsker has claimed twelve so I would assume that Major
Hamilton-Grant destroyed thirteen or more.”

I had noticed the word
‘claim’
and I began to wonder about this young lieutenant.

The colonel turned to face the others. “None! The Major has not shot down one German aeroplane.” The lieutenant’s face fell but the colonel had not finished.  “And can I say, lieutenant that your attitude does you no credit.” He pointed to Sergeant Sharp. “Tomorrow Sergeant Sharp will be taking his flying test and will, in all likelihood, become a pilot. 
That means I will have one more pilot than aeroplanes. Now lieutenant, you are educated.” He managed to make the word sound like an insult.  “You do the sums.”

“But sir! I am a lieutenant
and he is just a sergeant!”

“Then you had better be a damned better pilot than Sergeant Sharp or you will be transferred!”

He had not expected that answer and I saw his face fall.

The colonel said to the three of us, “Thank you gentlemen.  I think we
all learned something today. “Nine of the audience clapped loudly while Lieutenant Garrington-Jones sat almost shell-shocked.

The colonel took me to Archie and told the major what had occurred. He shook his head angrily, “That
Hamilton-Grant is a snake! I’ll take the young whelp into my flight.”

“Sorry about that
, Bill.  I should have intervened earlier.”