1915 Fokker Scourge (British Ace Book 2) (33 page)

I felt their bullets strike the rudder but most of the bullets must have gone through the fuselage which was largely fresh air. Lumpy had nothing to fire at and I could see the frustration on his face.  Suddenly a look of pure joy spread and he put his right hand into his pocket and drew out a Mills bomb.  I wondered how he would throw it for he was still clinging on to the Lewis. He used his teeth to remove the pin and then dropped it on our starboard side. He quickly gripped the Lewis and we both counted.  The crump and crack of the grenade created a small wave of turbulence. The machine guns in our rear stopped.

“Did you get one?”

He shook his head, “No sir, but they are keeping a  healthy distance
now.”

We were now approaching
Lens and were close to our field. So far the Fokkers had managed to avoid coming close enough to our guns but, after Lumpy’s grenade, they risked attacking us from the side rather than from below. Lumpy’s Lewis chattered away.  He was no Sergeant Sharp and I could not fire my Lewis between his legs; he was shorter than Charlie. It was frustrating to see the black cross of a Fokker drift into my sights and I could do nothing about it.

And then they gave up the chase and headed east. The gunners all resumed their seats; you did not land with a gunner obscuring the ground. The first thing everyone did was to examine their craft for damage.  Everyone, that is except for Lieutenant Garrington-Jones who vomited out of the side of the cockpit.  He had had a rude welcome to the world of the gunner.
The damage to our aeroplane was minimal and we would fly again on the morrow.

Archie wandered over. “That looks like a quiet sector; except for the Fokkers. Where did you find those
monoplanes, Bill?”

“Not far from Cambrai. There was nothing else though.”

“I’ll write a report for headquarters.  If you write one for your flight and give me your maps I will incorporate it into mine.”

I finished my report and headed to Captain Marshall’s office to hand it to him. As I entered I heard raised voices coming from the colonel’s office.  I say ‘
raised voices
’ but, in truth it was just Lieutenant Garrington-Jones whose voice was raised. “Sir, I demand that I be returned to flying duties!”

Randolph looked at me and shook his head, he mouthed, “Demand?”

Archie barked, “You do not demand anything young man. You are an officer and you obey orders.”

“It is a waste of my talents to be doing a job that any moron could do.”

When the colonel spoke his voice was so quiet it was hard to hear, “Until you learn to obey all orders without question then you will not be piloting a Gunbus.”

There was silence so loud that you could have heard a pin drop. Then I heard a much quieter and calmer Lieutenant Garrington-Jones, “Then sir, I request a transfer.”

I saw Captain Marshall smile and hold up a request for transfer form.  He pointed to the name which was written on it.  It was the lieutenant’s.  “I had a little bet with myself.  I won.” He placed it before him on the desk.

The major came out with the lieutenant.  “Could we have a transfer form for…”

Like a magician Randolph suddenly flourished the form and handed it to Garrington-Jones who frowned and looked back at the captain. “Sorry, but I anticipated your request, Lieutenant.  I thought this would save time.  Better for everyone eh?”

He snatched it from Randolph’s hand and stormed out.  As the door slammed the captain shook his head. “I wonder if I ought to get that
frame strengthened anyway.”

He kept to his room for the week it took for his transfer to come through.  He left on the lorry which had brought three replacements.  Our
replacement aeroplane and gunner had arrived the day before and so, by the first week of May we were back to full strength; our aeroplanes were in tip top shape and the morale was high because the bad apple had been removed.

We were told to photograph the German lines around the Arras-Bapaume area. Ted’s flight was fitted with cameras and the rest went as escort
s. The German airfield was too close to allow just three aeroplanes to fly alone. Nine of us formed an umbrella above Ted and his cameramen. They had to be accurate. We had discovered in 1915 that good aerial reconnaissance could save lives and we were under no illusions, if we were taking photographs then the infantry were going to attack. If we made a mistake or were sloppy then thousands might die.  We were all aware of our responsibility.

The Fokkers attacked us half way through the patrol.  Once again they climbed to attack us from underneath.  The difference was that we could fly to face them.  Our teeth would be bared! We flew as three arrows and they came at us in two lines. That was their first mistake.  They assumed because they outnumbered us they would have the better of it.  In gun terms we outnumbered them. A Flight was in the centre.  We were to the right and Gordy to the left. Once we had passed through I would bank to starboard, Gordy to port and the Major would turn and get on their tails.  We had worked it all out and we hoped that they would be confused and not see a pattern to our actions. The major’s plan was to cause as much damage with our attack and then surround them so that they could not fly beneath us.

“Ready Lumpy.  When I bank right you should be able to get the Fokkers behind us.”

“Right you are sir.” I could hear him humming a tune. He was different in many ways from Charlie who was normally silent but behind the Lewis he was just as deadly.

The head on attack was always the one with the most unpredictable outcomes.  Both sets of advancing aeroplanes had four options: right, left, up or down.  I wondered if they had worked out their options.  Approaching each other at a combined speed of a hundred and eighty miles an hour meant that decisions were measured in inches. Lumpy fired at the same time as the Fokker.  Our speed was so great that they both missed. The German aeroplanes dived beneath us. I opened fire just as Lumpy let loose his second burst and we got lucky. We both hit the Fokker and its engine began smoking.  Lumpy immediately changed his target to the aeroplane to our left. I sent another burst into the Fokker which peeled off from the others and headed east.

We banked. A
s we did so I heard an enormous explosion from our port side. The new pilot in A Flight, Lieutenant Lomas had misjudged his climb and he had crashed into the climbing Fokker.  Both aeroplanes and the crews perished in a fiery inferno.  Lumpy kept pumping bullets into the side of a Fokker.  As I completed my turn he reloaded.

The Germans had had a plan. The first six had dived below us to turn and attack us from below while the other six had climbed above us to strike down on us.  They were now three aeroplanes short for Lumpy had damaged a third aeroplane which glided down to
land in an empty farmer’s field.

Two Fokkers swooped to attack the Major’s aeroplane but Sergeant Sharp was on hand and his Gunbus fired at almost point blank range and a Fokker fell. Before he could celebrate I watched helplessly, as a third Fokker raked his front cockpit and I saw his gunner slump.

“Sir!”

I had been preoccupied and
almost missed the two Fokkers flying almost wingtip to wingtip.  They were aiming for us. I emptied my magazine, cursing my inattention. I saw and heard the fabric on the upper wing shred and the aeroplane began to yaw.  I had to adjust my controls to bring her level again. Then one of the Fokkers disappeared in a smoking spin as Freddy finished him off. Lumpy and Sergeant Laithwaite brought their Lewis guns to bear on the second Fokker which dived below us to avoid the wall of death which approached him.

As with most of our aerial battles the sky suddenly seemed empty.  I saw Ted and his flight heading north.  Gordy was flying towards Sergeant Sharp and his damaged bird and the remaining Germans were also heading home.  Once again the Gunbus had triumphed but the victory left a sour taste in the mouth.  A fresh faced pilot and a new gunner had lasted just one mission.  As we headed home I realised that I too could have died. I had been too worried about Sharp and I should have concentrated on my own survival.  I had learned a lesson.

The airfield looked even more welcoming as we approached our home. When the propeller stopped and we had descended, Lumpy asked, “Sir, what happened up there? That was not like you.”

“I lost concentration, that’s all.  Sorry about that
, Sergeant.”

His smile returned, “Oh I wasn’t worried.”  He patted his pocket. “I still had a hand grenade left.”

Sergeant Sharp was upset.  His gunner had been wounded.  Doc Brennan thought that he would recover without going to the base hospital and there was a spare gunner. Sergeant Sharp, however, felt guilty.

“The thing is sir, I knew that you wouldn’t have got me in that position when I was a gunner.  I am not certain that I am cut out to be a pilot.”

“Of course you are.  This is just part of the process of learning.  You have survived in the air longer than most of the young pilots and you have a real kill to your name. Just believe in yourself.”

When the photographs were developed they were sent by motor cycle to Headquarters.  We, however, had examined them ourselves
first. Captain Marshall had a good eye for photographs and maps.

“You see here, this is the road to that airfield.  It crosses over a river just at this point.” He ringed the bridge with a pencil, “If we destroyed that bridge then they would have a problem bringing fuel to the airfield.  It might make their squadron less effective.  I know that if Quartermaster Doyle didn’t keep on top of things then we would be grounded quite quickly.”

“What do you think sir?”

The colonel studied the map. “It seems likely that there will be some sort of attack in this area.  Those Hun
’s aeroplanes will make an attack damned difficult.  It seems to me that now is a good time to strike.  We have knocked a couple of their aeroplanes out of the air. What do you think Major Leach?”

“We only have nine aeroplanes but it is worth
trying just to eliminate the threat. If we use six to bomb and eagle eyed Harsker here to be our guardian angel then I think we can pull it off.”

I could see that the plan might work but I also knew that the Germans would be waiting.
“Yes sir, but we need to leave before dawn.  If we have communication with the front line then you can bet the Germans will too.  If we go well before dawn and fly high they might not report us.”

“Good idea, Bill.  Tell your pilots to get a good night’s sleep. We leave at four o’clock in the morning.”

I gathered my flight around my aeroplane.  “Today we have to make sure that the rest of the squadron can bomb that bridge. They will outnumber us again. Johnny and Freddy, save your Lewis until your gunners run out of bullets.  That way we may be able to drive them off.”

“Don’t you want us to try to destroy them sir?”

“Of course Johnny but not if it means another aeroplane can get to the bombers. We will try to stay together but if we are separated, well, I know you will do your best.” I paused, “I believe that you are both excellent pilots and we have been chosen because Major Leach and Colonel Pemberton-Smythe have the utmost faith in us.” I was reassured by the confident smiles the comment brought.

I was more worried this time because we were going deeper into enemy territory than ever before. We would have to conserve fuel and that was always hard when you were pushing your aeroplane to its limits. As usual I checked my Luger as well as my Lewis. I had used it before and I had a feeling that I would need it again.

We had small fires running down the airfield.  We knew it well but it seemed alien in the dark. I was the lead aeroplane as we needed to be at a higher altitude.  We were also the pathfinder and that was nerve wracking in itself. We would be flying south east but it would take the dawn for us to discover if we were at the right place.  The Somme River would be our signpost.  Once we reached that marker we could follow it to the bridge.  The others would be relying on me for protection and navigation.  I felt the pressure on my shoulders. I was aching before we had even reached a thousand feet.

I watched the false dawn and then the true dawn in the east.  Reassuringly we were still on course. When I saw the light glinting on the river
I knew where we were and I changed direction to follow the silvery signpost.

“Lumpy, you had better arm your guns and keep your eyes peeled.”

“Will do sir.”

I waved to the other two pilots and saw their gunners arming their weapons. I began to circle the bridge, gradually increasing our altitude. It would give us better vision and help with our speed when we attacked. The rest of the squadron circled the bridge ready to begin their bombing run. The major would wait until he had good light before attacking and that meant we had more chance of the Fokkers finding us.

“Sir, Mr Carrick.”

I looked to Freddy and saw him pointing to the east. Silhouetted against the rising sun were the little crosses that were the profile of the monoplanes.  We had been heard when crossing the German lines and they were heading for us. I was mindful of my lack of concentration the other day and I totally ignored the bombers.  They
would have to do their own job themselves.  I had to keep the monoplanes from wreaking havoc upon them. There looked to be ten of them and they were not in the usual formation.  They appeared to be in three waves rising like a pyramid.