1914 (British Ace) (34 page)

“I suppose so.” I glanced behind me at my wrecked aeroplane. “That will take some fixing.”

He smiled. “And while it is being fixed I am giving you a two week pass.  You deserve some leave.  You and Gordy both.  The rest of us will manage.  Besides we are getting some new buses next month so your old crate will just be for spares.”

Sergeant Sharp was philosophical about my leave. “It will give me chance to get to grips with the engine.  I can strip her down and rebuild her.”

Poor Ted was beside himself.  “Well I am definitely going for the pilot test.  Sod this for a game of soldiers. You two get leave and I stay here looking after the wee bairns.  It’s not right.”

We left that night with the Quartermaster who was driving to Dartford to pick up spares. We would get the train from Dover.  It would take me a couple of days to get home but it would be worth it.

Gordy was with me until Crewe when he left to go to his home close to Stoke. On the journey home we had noticed how many wounded soldiers there were both on the train and in the stations. “This war is not going the way they thought it would do, Bill, old son.”

“Well if those bastards are going to use gas then we will have to find some other way to defeat them.”

“Aye well, at least we are doing our job.  We are more than a match for the aeroplanes they are sending against us
.” He smiled, “Especially with our first ace in the squadron.”

“That last
aeroplane was not confirmed.  Besides Sharp helped with that one.”

“Major Brack said you were an ace and that is good enough for me. My paltry two is nowt compared with your score.”

As we said goodbye I realised that others set more store by my success than I did.  All I wanted was to survive with as many of my friends as possible.

This time no-one knew I was on my way home.  I got off the train in Burscough feeling dirty and tired.  I had slept on the train but it had been uncomfortable. The food had been station food and the quality of that was in the lap of the gods. As I trudged along the road to the estate and our cottage I couldn’t wait to have some of mum’s food inside me and sleep in a comfortable bed. It came to me that, for the first time in my life, I would have the room to myself.  Albert was away now. How strange would that be?

I did not see anyone on the road which was a novelty in itself and I wondered why. Normally there would have been carts and workers going to various parts of the estate but I saw no-one. As I approached the cottage I was surprised to see the curtains drawn and the door shut.  More than that it was locked! What was going on?  Mother never left the house.

I dumped my bags outside the back door and headed towards the big house.  Perhaps dad was at work.
When I reached the house the drive was filled with many cars just like his lordship’s Lanchester.  I saw liveried chauffeurs standing by their cars. I was wearing my officer’s uniform and, when I approached them they saluted. I felt a little embarrassed.

“Excuse me what is going on here today?”

“Didn’t you know sir? Lord Burscough died.  It’s his funeral.”

It was like a slap to the face.  I knew he had had a stroke
some years earlier and he was old but he was the same age as my father.  How could he have died?  He would have had good doctors looking after him.  He was a lord. That explained everything.  The whole estate and village would be at the service for Lord Burscough was very popular. I knew where they would be; they would be in the chapel. I hurried there. I knew that I should have washed myself and cleaned up but I thought it was more important to be there to pay my respects to a man who had been good to me and my family.

I reached the chapel as the coffin was being taken out of the west door. I took off my hat and bowed my head.
The first man following the coffin was Major Burscough.  I saw the look of surprise on his face but he quickly recovered his composure.  He gave me a brief nod and continued his long slow walk. The rest of the family followed: his wife, other son and daughters.  The important aristocratic families marched after them. When they had all passed the servants emerged and that was when my family saw me. I knew they would be torn between happiness at seeing me and sadness at the occasion.  I took my lead from my mother who gave me a gentle kiss on the cheek and then linked my arm.  No-one said a word. 

We walked slowly to the
Burscough family graveyard.  We all stood well back from the family and the dignitaries.  I could see that, not only my mother, but my father too, had been crying.  Lord Burscough had been their life.  My father had been his servant during the South African War. They had both spent their whole lives working for one family and now the head of that family was dead.  It was the end of an era. The world was changing and would never be the same again.

Once the coffin was in the ground and the vicar had shaken hands with Major Burscough my mother and the others relaxed.

“Why didn’t you tell us you were coming home?”

“I only found out yesterday and I have been travelling ever since.”

“Mother, leave him alone.  You have been moaning on about not seeing your bairn and now he is here you tell him off.”

The handkerchief came to her mouth, “Eeeh I am sorry our Bill.  It doesn’t matter
, you are home now.”

The others parted as
Major Burscough came up to us.  “Sorry for your loss, your Lordship.”

He took my hand, “Thank you Bill.  I thought the old bugger would live forever.” He shook his head. “Congratulations on the promotion.  I see you are now a lieutenant.  It won’t be long before you are a captain, mark my words.”

I shook my head, “I don’t know about that, my lord.”

He turned to my father.  “Did you know that your son
is one of the top pilots we have in the Royal Flying Corps?”

I could see that my dad was impressed.
“I think you are being too generous sir.”

“Nonsense.
  Major Hewitt keeps me up to speed on these things.” He leaned in, “I think the finest thing I ever did was to get you to come to France with me as my gunner.” One of his sisters tugged his arm.  “Must go. How long have you got?”

“About ten more days.”

He nodded, “I shall see you before then.” He looked at my mother and father.  “You two were the most prized of retainers. My father said that when they made you two they broke the mould.”

Mother curtsied but I could see that she was pleased. Alice linked my other arm and we walked down the drive. I heard my dad say, “You’re an officer now?”

“I am, Lieutenant Harsker; Flight Commander.”

“Who would have thought that a son of mine would have become an officer? Your granddad would have been right proud of you.”

My mum leaned in to me.  “But we are more proud our Bill.  You are a credit to the family, God Bless you son.”

And that was enough for me.  My
family were proud and his Lordship had praised me.  You could forget being an ace or being an officer.  I was truly happy as, on that saddest of days, I walked back to the cottage I called home with a huge smile on my face.

BEF- British Expeditionary Force

Beer Boys
-inexperienced fliers (slang)

Blighty
- Britain (slang)

Boche
- German (slang)

Bowser- refuelling vehicle

Bus
- aeroplane (slang)

Crossley- an early British motor car

Donkey Walloper
- Horseman (slang)

Fizzer
- a charge (slang)

Foot Slogger
- Infantry (slang)

Google eyed booger
with
the tit
- gas mask (slang)

Griffin
- confidential information (slang)

Hun
- German (slang)

Jasta- a German Squadron

Jippo
- the shout that food was ready from the cooks (slang)

Lanchester- a prestigious British car with the same status as a Rolls Royce

Loot
- a second lieutenant (slang)

M.C
. - Military Cross (for officers only)

M.M
. - Military Medal (introduced in 1915)

Nicked
- stolen (slang)

Number ones
- Best uniform (slang)

Parkin
or Perkin is a soft cake traditionally made of
oatmeal
and black
treacle
,
which originated in
northern England
.

Pop your clogs
- die (slang)

Posser- a three legged stool attached to a long handle and used to agitate washing in the days before washing machines

Pickelhaube- German helmet with a spike on the top.  Worn by German soldiers until 1916

Shufti
- a quick look (slang)

Singer 10 - a British car d
eveloped by Lionel Martin who went on to make Aston Martins

Toff
- aristocrat (slang)

V.C
. - Victoria Cross, the highest honour in the British Army

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public domain
by its author,
Gsl
at the
English Wikipedia
project
. This applies worldwide.

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:
Gsl
grants anyone the right to use this work
for any purpose
, without any conditions, unless such conditions are required by law.

Author: Whitton, F. E. (Frederick Ernest), 1872-1940

Subject: Marne, 1st Battle of the, France, 1914 Publisher:
Boston : Houghton Mifflin Language: English Call number: ADU-3079 Digitizing sponsor: University of Toronto Book contributor: Robarts - University of Toronto Collection: robarts; toronto Notes: No copyright page found. 1917