1918 We will remember them (8 page)

“Tomorrow sir?  When are the radios being fitted?”

Archie chuckled, “Even as we speak!”

Flight Sergeant Kenny was the youngest flight sergeant I had ever seen.  He looked even younger than some of my pilots. He was at my bus working under the critical gaze of Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery.

“Did you know about this contraption, sir?”

“I just heard about it, Flight.  Do you think it will cause a problem?”

Before he could answer Sergeant Kenny popped his head up from my cockpit. He looked at me, “It shouldn’t be a problem, sir. You aren’t exactly a big chap.” He pointed to the space behind my seat. “We are putting the radio here in the centre of the aeroplane so that it won’t affect the balance and the trim. I will run a cable from the engine to power it.”

“Who said you could touch my engine?”

“Steady on, Flight.  Let’s hear the sergeant out.  We are going to give them a go tomorrow and if they spoil the bus then they will come out.”

Sergeant Kenny’s head popped up again, “The General won’t be happy about that sir!”

“The General doesn’t have to fly these things.  I do. Now how do I operate the bloody thing?”

“Well sir, it is one way only.”

“One way?”

“Yes sir.  You talk to us but we don’t talk back to you.”

“Then how do I know you have heard what I say?”

“Well you don’t, sir, but the equipment will work.  Trust me.  It is pukka stuff!” He saw the look of doubt on my face.  “You have this microphone around your neck and you just speak into it. The transmitter is set to transmit all the time so you don’t have to switch anything on.” I grunted.  That was one thing at least.  He chuckled, “Mind you sir, it means the operator on the ground hears every word you say.”

I found myself liking this cheerful and engaging young sergeant.  “Well they had better be prepared for some choice language, sergeant.  I will not worry about offending your young operator.”

He nodded, “Don’t worry sir.  That’ll be me.”

Sergeant Lowery and I stood to one side. I spoke to Lowery quietly. “How big is it?”

“It is bulky but it only weighs about the same as a Lewis gun and its ammo.  What worries me, sir, is that this is the thin end of the wedge.  I hear they are thinking about fitting oxygen to them too.  Sergeant Kenny is right to worry about the balance but how do you fit oxygen bottles too?”

“We’ll worry about that when we have to. I can see the advantage of having these in the spotters though.  We could direct artillery fire much more easily.” I saw that Ted was wandering over and I headed towards him.  “Carry on, sergeant.”

“Well Bill, what does it look like?”

“Not as bad as I thought but it transmits only. The ground can’t talk to us so we don’t know if the message gets through.”

“We will just have to try it.  At least it is only in three aeroplanes. If we can’t work it then it will go no further.”

I sent Freddie up with the Camels to try out the improvements made by the mechanics while I went up to test the radio and to see if it affected the flight. Sergeant Kenny showed me how to fit the microphone around my neck.  He had rigged up a hook above my head and it hung from the hook until I looped it around my neck.

“You just speak into it, sir.  When you land I will tell you if I had any problems hearing you.  I will be working with you and I have two lads working with the other officers.”

“It seems an expensive waste of men.”

He did not seem put off by my criticism. “Oh don’t you worry about that sir.  By the time they are fitted to every aeroplane we will have improved the technology.  This system is a hundred times better than the one we used last year. Don’t worry, sir.  It will be fine!” He gave me the words he wanted me to say.  It struck me that it would not be a fair test if he knew the words I would be speaking but I bowed to his expertise.

Before I tested the radio I had a far more important task; I would test the modifications which had been made by the mechanics. I knew that it would not be an accurate evaluation.  That would have to wait until I came up against the Fokkers but I would get a feel for the changes which had been made. I began to climb as steeply as I could.  There was no loss of power which delighted me. I banked and flew straight.  It seemed to be as fast, if not faster than it had been.  The air speed indicator said that I was going faster but they were notoriously inaccurate.

I descended to a better altitude and began transmitting.  I said all that I had been told to say and then the naughty boy in me decided to test the equipment properly. I remembered a ribald song we had sung in the cavalry which I had taught to Charlie Sharp and I began to sing it.

I don't want the Sergeant's shilling,
 
I don't want to be shot down;
I'm really much more willing
To make myself a killing,
Living off the earnings of some high class lady;
I don't want a bullet up my bumhole,
Don't want my cobblers minced with ball;
 
For if I have to lose 'em
Then let it be with Susan
Or Meg or Peg or any whore at all.

I had forgotten the second verse so I sang the first one again.

When I landed I went directly to Flight Sergeant Lowery and gave him my report.  “Well the good news is that the radio equipment doesn’t seem to affect the aerodynamics and the modifications you made appear to work.”

“Good.  That is a relief then.  Here are the two Bristols sir.”

Archie and Ted came over with their gunners. “How did it work then, Ted?”

He shrugged, “Hard to say.  Jack said all the words he was supposed to but we will have to see what the radio lads have to say.”

When we entered their workshop Sergeant Kenny was laughing fit to bust. “Well sir, I hadn’t heard that song before.  I didn’t know officers used such words.”

I laughed too. “I was a sergeant before I was an officer.  So it came over clearly?”

“Yes sir.  Clear as a bell.  It works.”

The other operators had heard their messages too.  “Good; then this afternoon we will have a shufti over the German lines. It is all very well using it when I can see the airfield but what about when we are over enemy lines?”

“It should work, sir. But we will see eh?”

Freddie had noticed an improvement in performance and we took off in the early afternoon to see if we could catch the Germans napping. With the Bristols to starboard and Freddie above us we headed east.  There were no troop movements this time but, in the distance, I saw the smoke from the railway line.  They were resupplying and reinforcing the front line.

We flew down the German trenches. I took the opportunity to send a message back.  It was not important, I just told Sergeant Kenny, what we were doing.  It was more a test than anything. The Bristols machine gunned the trenches while we watched.  It was something of an anti climax when no Huns came to chase us off. We headed home when we had been aloft for two hours.  We had the endurance of two and a half hours but there was no point in risking running out of fuel.

This time, when we landed, I went directly to Sergeant Kenny.  “Well?”

“Loud and clear sir. I told you, it works.”

The lack of German aeroplanes was explained when Randolph reported to Headquarters.  The German airfields had been overcast and they could not fly.  It was an important lesson.  The Bristols could have carried bombs and done even more damage to the trenches. My Camels could have engaged in ground attack too.

We went up again the next day but without Archie. He and Randolph were summoned to headquarters.  We presumed to report on the radios.  Gordy took up Archie’s crew so that his gunner could become familiar with the technology.

For the first time in over a week I had a full complement of pilots. I was slightly less nervous than I had been. My pilots had all learned from the disasters of their first flights. Even so I scanned the eastern horizon for signs of the enemy. Ted and Gordy led their flights at the same altitude. It proved to be a wise decision.  Three German squadrons were waiting for us, expecting us to attack their trenches again. They were at the same altitude as we were.  I did not see any triplanes and so I assumed it was not the Flying Circus. That was proved to be the case.

I sent the message back to Kenny that we had met over thirty six Germans and that we were attacking.  He could do little about it but I was anxious to use the radio in combat conditions.

We launched our attack in four columns. It contrasted with the wide waves of the enemy. They could bring more guns to bear but then they would risk collisions. Our method put the leader at the front in the gravest danger but as they were the best pilot it was a risk worth taking.

I saw that we were facing the Fokker D.III. It had two guns and was fast but it was not as fast as we were and did not have the manoeuvrability we did. I guessed that the Germans would choose the easier and bigger target of the eleven Bristols.  If they did they would learn that Gordy and Ted had a nasty sting in their tails.

I cocked my Vickers and shouted, for no real reason, “Charge!” I suspect I was aware that someone was listening. I flew directly at the Fokker with the tallow propeller and spinner. We had learned that they were usually the leader. He must have been nervous for he fired too soon. His bullets struck my wings and my wires but a quick glance told me that they were still whole. This was an aerial game of chicken.  Who would blink first?  I raised my nose a little to invite another burst from him.  This time I felt his bullets strike my wheels and then I dipped my nose and, as I did so, gave him a five second burst. My sudden movement had thrown his aim and, at one hundred feet, the range was so close that my twin Vickers struck his propeller and then his engine.  I must have struck something vital for he suddenly dived beneath me.  I think my wheels must have clipped his tail as I flew over him. I felt a little judder.

The next flight was upon me and I turned slightly to starboard.  It was a manoeuvre intended to allow the rest of my flight and Freddie’s flight to fire obliquely across the enemy line. For that reason I fired at two hundred yards. It was like a war of attrition. If each of us hit the same target with a short burst then we had a good chance of downing them.

I felt bullets strike my fuselage but we were a smaller target and they did little damage. I saw smoke appear from a Fokker in front of me and then he was past and I fired at the next one in line.  I suddenly heard an explosion next to me and my Camel was thrown to the right as Lieutenant Clayson hit the fuel tank of the Fokker I had damaged. I no longer had a target and I began to climb.  I wanted the freedom and flexibility to swoop down on the Germans and use our superior speed to maximum effect.

I saw in my mirror that some of the Germans were trying to match our climb.  They were being left for dead. Flight Sergeant Lowery had certainly worked his magic. I banked to starboard and brought my flight down like avenging angels of death. I kept banking and brought us around to attack the climbing Fokkers.  Their attempt to match our climb had been a disaster.  I opened fire at the side of one and I raised my nose to fly over him and allow the others to fire at him. Once I had passed him I was able to descend and fire another burst at the next one in line.  It was almost too easy.  Had they been the Fokker Triplane they would have been a smaller nimbler target but these older Fokker Biplanes only had their two guns in their favour.  We held all the other aces.

I checked my compass and saw that we were heading east.  My fuel gauge showed we had used too much fuel already and I banked to port to take us home. I saw Freddie and his flight already heading west and, below me, the Bristols were chugging towards our lines too. My mirror showed that I still had my flight intact and I sent the message back to Sergeant Kenny that A Flight was coming home.

There was an exuberant mood on the ground. My flight had managed to shoot down three Germans and even George Jenkin had managed to make his first kill although he had to share it with Lieutenant Clayson. I noticed that Archie and Randolph had not returned and I went to take an early bath. I would enjoy a drink in the mess before dinner. The report could wait.

Gordy and I were on our second beer when we heard the car pull up outside.  Sergeant Green came to the mess, “Gentlemen, Colonel Leach, asks if you could join him.”

“Be there in a moment, Flight.” As he left I said, “They have been at Headquarters longer than normal.  Do you think something is up?”

“There is always something up but it never bodes well for us.”

Ted and Freddie were there already. “Well chaps we now know why they asked to us check the trenches around Cambrai, there will be a major offensive there sometime in November. We have three weeks to photograph it and then three weeks to clear the skies of Germans.”

“They do know that the Flying Circus is in this sector?”

“They do but Intelligence thinks that the Germans are having supply problems.  At home we are turning out the new SE 5 in huge numbers and that particular aeroplane is capable of over a hundred and thirty five miles an hour.  The General is confident.”

I looked at Freddie and shook my head.  That speed seemed impossible.  Last year we had been flying the Gunbus and were happy if we could make eighty five miles an hour.

Ted asked, hopefully, “Are we getting them?”

“Eventually we might but we are in a unique position.  We have the Bristols which can photograph the ground and they can be protected by the Camels.  We won’t be getting any new aeroplanes until the New Year.”

I didn’t particularly want a new aeroplane.  I liked the Camel but the extra speed meant we would have more chance of survival until this damned war was over.

Randolph said, “One bit of good news from the general though.  After the offensive the whole squadron is being given a three week leave. By then the new SE 5 squadrons will be ready and they are being phased in.”

The thought of leave made me smile. Both Gordy and Freddie looked equally happy. I saw that Ted looked almost indifferent. I suddenly remembered that Ted had nothing at home to look forward to.  His conversation with me had told me that he was putting all thoughts of a woman in his life on hold until the war was over.

This would be the first time when the raid would actually be useful. It would be the opportunity for Ted and Archie to feed back directly about what they were photographing.  For me it would be the chance to call up reinforcements. I would certainly ask for help if the Flying Circus arrived.

That first morning was almost too easy.  The Germans were not expecting us and our Bristols combed the battlefield as far as Cambrai.  The ground fire was annoying and I saw holes appearing in the wings of the Bristols but they could be repaired.  We had nothing to do as no fighter appeared. The test would come on day two and three when the Germans would realise what we were doing. However I was just grateful to get the extra hours flying with the new pilots.  It was a luxury.  We had not lost a pilot for almost a month and that was a rarity.  We knew it could not last but the more hours in the air a pilot had the more chance he had of actually surviving the war. None of us believed that this offensive would be the one to end the war.  We had heard that claim too many times but we would be able to measure our success by the ground gained.

I was right. The second day the Germans came to chase us away. I used the radio as soon as I saw the black crosses appear in the distance. We were further west on the second day. Someone had actually had the sense to begin the photography close to our target before the enemy were aware of what we were up to.  I waved to Freddie and my flight.  Cocking my Vickers we began to descend towards the enemy formation. They would target the Bristols.  They knew that we would not be using cameras.  I felt sorry for the pilots and gunners of the Bristols. They were like the bait and they would have to take whatever punishment was dished out.

The Germans used a different tactic that day.  They used two squadrons.  One came for us while the other flew low and attacked the Bristols. We approached each other in our two totally different formations. Once again I would be the focus of the German fire and I wondered when my luck would run out. When would I face a German pilot with the nerve to wait until the last minute and shred my propeller? It was not that day. The pilot of the Albatros who faced me was not a leader. I saw that he was struggling to maintain a straight line.  That was the nerves.  It told me he was a young pilot or a new pilot at least.

I used my usual trick of inviting the shot by lifting my nose slightly and then, as I jerked it straight back down, firing a hopeful burst. It worked.  The young pilot fired as I lifted my nose and the bullets screamed over my head.  My bullets smacked into the struts and the wires of his wings. Once again fortune smiled on me.  I saw one of the wires severed. It would unnerve the pilot as he heard the twang and the port side of his aeroplane would be less stable.  I moved my stick a little to starboard and Nat Hazell gave him a burst too. He made the mistake of pulling back on his stick and Lieutenant Hazell had another kill as his bullets stitched a line along the fuselage. The aeroplane continued in its loop.  The pilot was dead.

I continued my bank to the right and it brought me alarmingly close to the next Albatros.  I took a snap shot and my bullets rattled off the engine.  I had to jerk my nose up and I felt bullets striking my fuselage. All that I could see were wings with black crosses. I had led my flight into the heart of the enemy.  This would normally be fatal but the Camel was so manoeuvrable that I knew I could use its impressive handling to wrest the advantage back. I kept pulling on the stick.  I felt the force of the wind as my Camel fought me but it kept coming around. We were a small target and we were moving very quickly.  The mechanics had done a superb job. The hard part about pulling such a loop was keeping your orientation. I do not know why but I always found it easy.  The pilots who followed me just had to keep on my tail.

I saw an Albatros below me as I came down.  He was a perfect cross in my sights.  At less than a hundred yards I pulled my triggers. Every bullet struck home. The pilot disappeared in a sea of blood.  Such was the power of the twin Vickers that I saw daylight beneath his body as the bullets punched a hole in his fuselage.  He was so close that my Camel almost collided with his tail. I came underneath him and found myself behind his leader. I fired again and his tail took many hits. I was in danger of ramming him and I pulled to starboard. I saw bullets strike his Albatros from the guns of Lieutenant Fall who was behind me.  He began to spiral to earth.

I saw that Jack and I had lost the others. We were almost alone now.  My loop had lost most of my flight and the Germans. I levelled out and checked the sky.  The formations had disintegrated. I saw individual pilots chasing each other around the sky.  To the west I saw the Bristols as they headed home with the precious photographs. I started to circle. Jack and I would wait for the other Camels to rejoin us and I would keep the last of my ammunition in case they needed help.

One by one they returned.  I was like a mother hen counting her chicks. We formed a circle.  We would soon have to return home. One was missing.  Nat had not come back. I radioed that one of my flight was missing and headed home.  Perhaps, like Lieutenant Carpenter he had been forced down and he would rejoin us.

We were the last aeroplanes to land.  Roger came over to me.  “Nat bought it, sir. He went after an Albatros and flew into two Fokkers.  He must have died instantly. Sorry sir.”

I shook my head, “It isn’t your fault; it is war.  And he had another kill today.”

The death of such a likeable pilot had a demoralising effect. Although we had shot down more of the enemy we had lost one of the new pilots and I saw in the eyes of my flight the spectre of mortality. It was a sombre mood in the mess that night.

“Don’t take it to heart, Bill. We did well and the photographs are top notch.”

“I know, Archie.  You can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs but I was beginning to believe that, if we avoided the Circus, then my lads might actually survive. What happens if the Circus comes to this sector?  We will be massacred.”

“No Bill.  You have done a cracking job with your lads. Your Camels have a better kill ratio than any other flight on the western front.  I heard that from the General. This is your first loss in a while.  The Germans are losing more men than we are.”

I shook my head, “I can’t believe that we are hoping that the enemy will bleed to death before we do.”

“It is a fact of life, or in this case death.  Besides we are producing more aeroplanes and when the Yanks finally get over here we might just have more men than the Germans.”