1918 We will remember them (9 page)

I took a swig of wine. “I couldn’t do what you do, sir.  I couldn’t send young men to their deaths.  I wouldn’t be able to sleep.”

“And you think I do? I am just praying for this war to end so that I can get back to Scotland and my family. I have a nice little farm in the borders and I fall asleep at night making plans for what I will grow and what animals I will rear.  That is how I get to sleep. You get to sleep thinking about your Beattie.  All of us have different ways to cope. We just have to believe that this war will end before we are all dead.”

And of course he was right.  That was the only way to get through the horror.  Concentrate on the trivia and not the deaths.  If you thought about the deaths then you would go insane.

In the event we were rained off the next day. It should have made life easier but we also received the news of an air raid over London in which twenty one people died and seventy nine were injured. The odds that one of them was either Beattie or Mary was slim but it did not stop Gordy and me pestering Randolph all day to find out if our loved ones were safe. We did not discover the truth until late at night by which time we were both nervous wrecks. It made us both more determined than ever to finish this war as soon as possible.

The late night and the worry made me grouchy the next day.  Bates noticed it immediately.  He was incredibly sensitive to my moods. He smiled at my snarls and nodded at my grunts.  As he handed me my goggles, flying helmet and gloves he just said, “Try not to take it out too much on the young gentlemen, sir. It is a hard enough job for them without worrying if their commanding officer is going to bite their heads off.”

I turned to snap at him and then I saw the look on his face. He was smiling but there was steel in his eyes.  I knew that he was right. I forced a smile, “I will try, Bates, and thank you.”

“It’s my job sir and besides you are so even tempered normally that one can accept the occasional aberration.  Just so long as it is occasional.”

We did not need a morning briefing. Until the photography was complete then we would be over Cambrai each day. Two of the Bristols were unfit to fly as was one of Freddie’s flight, Lieutenant Duffy. It would make the task of the Bristols harder as they would need to cover a larger area with fewer aeroplanes.

As we headed east across the ground the troops would traverse I could not help noticing that it seemed to be solid barbed wire.  I did not envy the infantry travelling over that.  Our shells were supposed to clear a path but it only seemed to make it even more entangled.  Until they had some way to walk over wire then the machine gunners would be able to slaughter the advancing infantry with ease. The other noticeable feature was the number of abandoned farms and small villages.  I wondered how on earth the owners would be able to move back once the war was over. I knew that many soldiers lay just a few feet from the surface buried in a sea of mud. This part of the front had not seen a major offensive yet but once it did then the war would seed the land with fresh corpses.  Farmers in the future would have a grim harvest.

The Germans were waiting. We knew in our hearts that they would, inevitably, react to our daily sortie. This time it was they who held the advantage of height and they came down in waves of five aeroplanes. At least our Camels were a little higher and we did not have to climb steeply to counter the threat but the climb would eat into our fuel and shorten the time we could spend in the air.

It was not the Circus. Each time we went up I looked for the dreaded triplanes.  When I did not see them then I knew we had some chance of success.  They were the Fokker D. IV.  I suspected they were the same ones we had met before for the livery on the aeroplanes looked the same. There were more of them which led me to believe that this was a Jasta.

The twin Spandau of two Fokkers converged on me.  They had fired early but were trying to get me in a cone of fire. I lifted my nose and, as I dipped it again quickly, began to bank to starboard. I felt their bullets tear into my port lower wing but Lieutenant Clayson had a shot at them from the side. I saw a black cross appear as my nose swung around to the last aeroplane in the line and I fired at the cross. Miraculously I hit the cross.  I did not think there would be much damage but the Fokker began to yaw. I realised that I must have hit his controls.

I banked to port. It was pure instinct which made me do so.  The space I had occupied was filled with steel jacketed parabellums as the Fokker from above dived down. I turned my bank into a climb and passed the German pilot. My move took me up above the dogfight but, when I looked in my mirror, I saw that I had lost my wingman.  My Camels were engaged in deadly duels with the Fokkers.  It was not a fair fight as we were outnumbered.  I brought my Camel around and lined up on the two who were chasing Jack Fall. He was twisting, turning and attempting to loop.  It made him a small target but each time they fired at him they were hitting his bus. It would only be a matter of time before they made a critical hit.

The height I had gained gave me more speed over the already slow Fokkers. I waited until I was less than fifty yards from the rearmost German and gave him a steady burst. My speed took the bullets along his fuselage and into the cockpit. I held the finger on the trigger as his aeroplane disappeared from my sights and was replaced by the next Fokker.  As soon as my bullets hit his rudder I saw him jerk his head around and then he began to bank. I managed to hit him again before he flew from my sights.

Jack was in a bad way.  His Camel was oozing smoke and his wings looked like a piece of Swiss cheese. I waved for him to get home.

“Jack Fall is heading back, Sergeant Kenny.  His bus is badly shot up. Over.”

It was the first time I had used the word ‘
Over
’ in such a way and it felt weird. Sergeant Kenny had asked me to use it when I had finished a transmission to let him or another operator know that the message was complete.

I looked around the sky and saw that most of my pilots were following Jack home. I was still high enough to be able to look down on them. I began a slow descent; I did not want to waste fuel and I followed the three Fokkers who were trying to pick off the injured birds. I fired at a range of over three hundred yards as I closed with them. I wanted to discourage them. The tracer rounds showed me that I was slightly off target. I adjusted my direction and, at two hundred yards, fired again.  This time some of my rounds hit the tail of one of the Germans. I made my descent steeper to increase my speed and I banked to port.  I fired at a Fokker and then dived beneath him to come up under the last of the three hunters.  My bullets hit his undercarriage.  I saw one of the wheels come off and he jerked his Fokker around and joined his two comrades as they headed east.

I came up and flew alongside Lieutenant Clayson who waved a grateful hand at me. I looked along the line and saw Jenkin and Hickey. They had both survived but their buses looked only a little better than Lieutenant Fall’s. Once again we landed amidst a scene of confusion and action.  Aeroplanes looked to be seemingly abandoned on the field.  Huddles of mechanics and medical staff surrounded many of them.  It is lucky for us that the Camel did not need much field to land in.

When I climbed out I saw that I had taken more damage than I had thought. The mechanics would have their hands full with my flight.

It looked like the Bristols had borne the brunt of the damage. I saw two gunners being stretchered away and Tony Alexander looked to have caught a bullet in the arm. Ted and Gordy trudged towards me.

“Well we were definitely caught with our trousers down there.  They were ready for us. There was ground fire as well as the damned Fokkers.  We only got a couple of photographs before we had to take evasive action.”

“It is our own fault, Gordy, we went over at exactly the same time and the same height.  The Hun is not stupid is he? Where is Archie?”

“He went to telephone headquarters.  He wants us stood down to recover.”

“That makes sense.  A different squadron might vary it a little.”

“How do you mean, Bill?”

We fly in a predictable way.  We come in four lines at the same height each day.  Even our little tricks like me raising my nose and then dropping it when I fire are known.  I always turn to starboard and my lads follow me. I hate to admit it but if we had radios which could transmit and receive in the buses it would be much easier to vary things.”

“Well that isn’t going to happen in our lifetime.”

I shook my head, “The way things are going this war could last another ten years and we might just get them.”

“Well you are cheerful.  Let’s go and find Archie and see if we have got a reprieve.”

We walked into the office and Archie waved us to the table where the whisky was already open.

“Yes General, I know but we took a beating today and we only have half of the Bristols able to fly.” There was a silence and Archie rolled his eyes. “Thank you sir.  Even twenty four hours will make a difference.” After a moment or two he slammed the phone down.  “These desk wallahs haven’t the first clue about what it takes to keep a squadron up to scratch. We have one day.”

Ted nodded to me as he lit a cigarette, “Bill thinks we ought to mix things up a little.”

“Go on.”

“The Germans will be waiting for us when we go over in two days time.  We know that. Why not do things a little differently? Instead of going just after dawn we should go after lunch.  We will have the sun behind us and they will have wasted fuel waiting for us. If we climb to a higher altitude before we leave our lines then the Camels can have the advantage of height and if we use the two flights to come from two different directions we might just catch them napping.”

“That’s all well and good, Bill, but it doesn’t help us in the Bristols.”

“I know, Ted, but you have to go in low to photograph.  We can’t change that but by going in later we may throw them off.  You only have a little more of the front to photograph anyway.  If we can buy some time then you might be able to complete it this time. We could go before you so that we are ready to pounce on any Germans we see.”

“The problem with that is that you will be outnumbered.”

“So long as it is isn’t the Flying Circus then we can handle the biplanes.  The Camel can mix it up close in.” I swallowed the whisky.  “If we do things the same way we have always done them then we will get the same results. Next time we might not be so lucky and the wounds will be deaths.”

Archie nodded, “I don’t have a problem with making that change, Bill.  It doesn’t make much difference when we fly. We only have two and a half hours over there anyway. We can’t leave it too late or else night will be falling but just after noon works. We can be back by three at the latest. We will try it and hope it works.  The brass is very keen on this offensive. Randolph…”

“Yes, it appears that we are going to be involved in the actual attack.  It will be like Arras all over again. I think that is why we had the radios fitted so that we could liaise closely with the ground attack.”

It all made sense now. Perhaps there was some planning going on at Headquarters.  I hoped so.

The next day Archie gave us permission to go into Amiens for a well deserved day off. Freddie drove and the four of us went, along with Johnny to see what we could buy to brighten up our lives.

After we had bought some cheese and French bread we found our usual bar. It was crowded and we were forced to stand outside.  It seemed there were lots of men in the town.  It was always the way before an offensive.

“Bill!” I looked around and saw our Bert and his mates.  He was not wearing the uniform of an Engineer. I did not recognise it. He came and shook my hand.  He tapped my medals, “This is my brother, the hero.  See he has the VC and the MC!”

I heard the pride in his voice.  I was just as proud of him.  Anyone who burrowed away like a mole had my admiration! I tapped his uniform.  “What’s this then? Not in the engineers?”

He took me to one side. “All hush, hush, our kid.” He took me to one side and spoke quietly. “I am in the Tank Corps.  I got fed up with being underground and with my skills as a mechanic and the fact that I am small, well, they were desperate for me. I am in line for promotion.”

I remembered that a few metal contraptions had been used the previous year. I didn’t know we had them in numbers.

“Are you involved in the next push then?”

He tapped his nose, “Can’t say.”

I nodded, “Well when you look up it will be our squadron keeping an eye on you.”

“And that makes me feel a whole lot better.” Gordy brought over our beers. “How is our Alice getting on?”

“She’s struggling but I think she will get through it. I heard from mum the other day.  She says things are hard at the estate and she complained that you never write.”

He laughed, “I was never much with the old pen and paper but I promise that I will write.”

In the end we spent the whole afternoon with them and a tipsy Freddie drove us back to the field.  But it had been good for us.  We had met some of the soldiers we saw from the air.  We were all closer as a result. I was silent all the way back thinking about Bert and how much he had changed.  He was now confident and seemed to be enjoying life.  Perhaps the army had been the best thing for him. Our buses were all repaired and lined up neatly at the side of the airfield. That evening in the mess we had a happy buzz as we discussed our new plans for the next day. It was amazing how a little trip out could do so much for morale.

We heard that the two squadrons who had gone to photograph the front in our absence had lost six aeroplanes when they were jumped by the German fighters. I felt that my plan was worth a try.  Had we gone up with fewer aeroplanes then we might have suffered even greater losses.

Our morale was even higher after a lie in and a late breakfast. Freddie and I would lead our flights with a gap of half a mile between us. It had been some months since we had used the technique but we could fly long loops. We would intersect twice and never lose sight of each other.  If there was danger we could respond quickly. We left slightly before the Bristols; we were faster anyway but we needed to be on station before they reached us. I prayed that I was right and the waiting German fighters had gone.