The Mammoth Book of Fighter Pilots (19 page)

From 200 feet we could see our tanks well past the famous Hindenburg line, and they looked very peculiar nosing their way around different clumps of trees, houses, etc. We flew up and down the line for an hour, but no sign of any Hun machines about, although the air was crowded with our own. Very soon the clouds were altogether too low, and there was nothing else to do except go home, so I did. By now I had only one follower, Coote, who landed with me at our advanced landing ground near Bapaume, as it was too bad to fly back to our own aerodrome. Here we found a lot of our machines and pilots who had made this aerodrome their home during the present operations.

The machines were mostly D.H.5’s, which were employed in low bombing and ground strafing. It was really wonderful to see these fellows come back from a show all shot about, load up with some more bombs and ammunition, and then go off again to strafe the Hun. There was quite a fair percentage coming in wounded too, which was to be expected under the circumstances.

This aerodrome at Bapaume was the saving of a lot of our machines from crashing, for it was quite close to the trenches, and if a pilot’s machine was hit he could usually glide there without the use of his engine from well over the line. Also we could always get petrol and oil from here to take us over the treacherous belt of shelled and devastated country between Bapaume and Albert, which was about ten miles across, for while on patrol it was difficult to know how much petrol one had in one’s machine, and so if one had been out a long time and was doubtful if one’s petrol would last out to good landing country west of Albert, all one had to do was to land at Bapaume and fill up with the necessities.

About 11 o’clock the clouds lifted a little, so Coote and I flew along the Bapaume-Albert road at ten feet in places, for the mist was really awful. We arrived back at our aerodrome, and the weather was so bad that we could not get up again until the 23rd. Of course all this time infantry and artillery were deprived of the assistance of our aeroplanes, but up to now they had done remarkably well, though the advance was hung up at Flesquières by a Hun anti-tank gun which stopped a certain part of our line for twenty-four hours.

When the anti-tank gunner was killed we were able to advance again. This gunner was found to be an officer, who, having had all his gun crew killed, worked the gun himself and knocked out fourteen tanks. One of our tank officers spoke very highly of the courage of this German officer. Of course, if the weather had been fine the anti-tank gun would have been spotted at once and knocked out by our low bombers, but the weather prevented the R.F.C. from taking a part in the proceedings and greatly hampered our advance.

About 10 a.m. on the 23rd my patrol left the ground and we flew at once towards Cambrai at 3,000 feet, for we could not get any higher owing to the clouds. We crossed the lines south of Bourlon Wood and very soon saw four Albatroses over Cambrai. We got close enough to open fire, and I engaged an Albatros, who was painted with a red nose, a yellow fuselage, and a green tail. He also had the letter K on his top plane. This Hun was destined to be always fighting my patrol somehow, and for the next three months we were continually meeting him.

After I had fired a short burst at this machine he spun down a little, but at once came up again.

These four Huns now being driven down without a decision, we turned round and went west again, for there were now plenty of Huns about, and the clouds being only at 3,000 feet, every machine was under this height and also over a comparatively small area around Bourlon Wood, which by now was three parts surrounded by British troops.

I now saw a D.F.W. coming west over Cantaing at 2,500 feet, so we at once gave chase. I got my position and fired a burst into him, whereupon he at once turned east and fired his white light, which on bursting spread into many small white lights. I had seen many Hun two-seaters do this, so I suppose that is a signal, “Jagdstäffeln – to the rescue!” This Hun went down in a devil of a hurry, but I did not finally get him.

By now most of my patrol had dwindled away, and I only had Fielding-Johnson with me. We sighted two Albatros scouts attacking a Bristol Fighter over Marcoing, so at once we went to the rescue. The Bristol, seeing us coming, skilfully drew one of them after him. The remaining one, who was just about my level, saw me and fairly stood on his tall endeavouring to scrape up a foot more height than my machine.

By the time I got to him and zoomed, the S.E. just went up a little higher. Then we both turned inwards and, the Hun losing height, I at once did a quicker turn and got behind him. After a short burst from my Vickers, the Hun’s hat fell out of his machine, for apparently he was wearing an ordinary service cap; and after that the V-strutter went down and hit the ground, in a vertical dive with the engine on, a fearful whack. I looked where the Hun had crashed and found it was near Rumilly.

Fielding-Johnson and I now returned to Bourlon Wood, where we saw a big formation of Albatroses near our lines, so we went down on them, and I attacked the rear machine but overshot him and missed him. That Hun must have been on his first solo, for he hadn’t the foggiest notion what to do, and was looking around him in an apparent state of bewilderment, but, by the time I had turned behind him again he was in the middle of his formation, and so I had to come back. By Jove! that Hun was as dud as they make them.

By now there were some Albatroses above us, and amongst them I saw “green-tail” taking a prominent part. We revved round for a while, and then I saw Maybery tackling a big A.E.G. bomber, which had apparently been pushed up by the Huns to distract some of our attention from their two-seaters, who were on the whole having a bad time. By now it was time to go home, and we arrived back at the squadron after a morning’s fine fun.

The Major had been out too, and having tackled a two-seater turned the wrong way at the critical moment, came under the fire of the two-seater’s gunner at very close range, had been pipped through the petrol tank, and was nearly blinded by petrol. So he went right down to the ground before switching on his engine again, for fear of igniting the escaping petrol from the flames from his exhaust pipes, which on the S.E. are in close proximity to the petrol tank. He got safely down, and came back saying that to tackle a two-seater successfully was harder than it looked.

During the morning of the 23rd the whole squadron had been up, and Bowman and Harmon had each got a Hun also. The Albatros which I shot down near Rumilly was my 20th victim.

That evening being very dull, most of us visited Amiens, which was only 20 minutes’ run from our Camp, and on arrival at Amiens we adjourned to Charlie’s Bar, where we consumed large quantities of oysters and, having had our fill of them, wandered round the town to make small purchases.

Amiens is a large town and there are a lot of nice shops. One can buy almost anything there, for it is not far from Paris or the Channel ports. The last time I had been to Amiens was when I came up to Béthune from Paris in January, 1915, on the conclusion of a ten days’ course at the Le Rhône works. We had a very good dinner in Amiens and returned to the Squadron about 10 p.m.

The days after our attack were not marked by much enemy aerial activity, for apparently they had been so taken by surprise that they had not yet reinforced their aerial strength on the Cambrai battle front.

Early on the morning of the 29th, I led my patrol towards St. Quentin at 12,000 feet. We crossed the lines at 12,500 feet over St. Quentin and flew north with the sun on our right-rear, and very soon I saw a two-seater coming towards me from the north-east. I signalled to my patrol and down we went. The D.F.W. tried to run for it, which is the usual procedure adopted by the Hun two-seater pilots, who nearly always rely entirely on the good shooting of their gunner.

After receiving a good burst from both my guns, the D.F.W. literally fell to a thousand pieces, the wreckage of the wings fluttering down like so many small pieces of paper, while the fuselage with its heavy engine went twirling down like a misdirected arrow, towards the south of Bellicourt, where it hit the ground. I had by now zoomed up and, on looking round, saw Fielding-Johnson going off towards the lines. One could see that he was in trouble of some sort, so after seeing him safely as far as the lines, I again flew over the lines, followed by Walkerdine and Truscott, who were both new members of my flight.

When we got as far as Cambrai, we dived down on a formation of Albatroses whom I had just seen going down on Maybery’s formation, who were very low over Cambrai, and for the next few minutes we had a regular dogfight, in which Maybery lost a good fellow named Dodds. We eventually had to run for it, and again the S.E.’s wonderful good speed stood us in good stead and enabled us to get clear. After this, we flew home.

On landing I found that when Fielding-Johnson dived with me on the D.F.W., soon after leaving St. Quentin, his stabilising fin had broken, and as it broke had turned him upside down. Poor old Fielding-Johnson, his face was mournful to behold as I got out of my machine and spoke to him.

The same morning about midday I left the aerodrome, leading three other pilots. We went out as far as Bourlon, where we turned. North-east of us we could see several Albatroses playing in the clouds east of Bourlon, the clouds being at only 2,000 feet. The Hun is an adept at using clouds to his advantage, and I always think that Hun scouts fairly revel in a cloudy day.

We continued flying north, and by the time we had arrived east of Arras I saw three German machines coming west from the direction of Douai over the Sensée river. They came quite close to the lines, and then turned north.

I waited for a good opportunity and then signalled attack. I tackled the first D.F.W., for the Hun had proved to be this type, and fired a good burst at him from both guns, and the Hun at once started to glide down. I glanced round and saw Walkerdine tackling his D.F.W. in great style. I now rectified two stoppages, one in each gun, and went down to attack my Hun again, who was now very near the ground about a mile over the German lines.

By the time I got well within range the Hun was only about a hundred feet above the ground, and still gliding down. I fired another burst at him from close range, whereupon he did a terrific zoom, and then his two top wings met above the fuselage as all the four wings dropped off. The wreckage fell to the ground like a stone, and I saw the engine roll several yards away from the machine.

I was myself now very low, and on pushing the throttle open the engine only just spluttered. A glance at my pressure gauge showed that it was registering almost nil, so I grabbed my hand-pump and pumped like anything with one hand, while with the other I was holding the machine’s nose up as much as possible. By the time I was only a few feet from the ground in a semi-stalled condition the good old Hispano started again with a roar that was very welcome music to my ears.

Being now so low I could not locate my position. So I flew by the sun. While passing over a battery position at a height of a few feet I saw a German N.C.O. walk into a gun pit after glancing at me as though he saw British machines over his battery a few feet up every hour of the day. That Hun N.C.O. either did not recognise me as a British machine or else he was a very cool card, for I went straight towards him, and my slip stream must have blown his cap off as I passed over him with a few feet to spare, and he did no more than glance up at me.

Very soon I passed over the enemy trenches, where they fired a lot at me; and then in the middle of No Man’s Land, which at that part was several hundred yards wide, I saw a derelict Sopwith “Camel” which had apparently been shot down several weeks previously. I saw British Tommies waving from a trench to me, and I felt much braver than I did a few minutes before, for I felt that had I been forced to land alongside the German machine that I had shot down in pieces, I should have been given a very thin time by the Fritzes.

After climbing a bit I found Walkerdine and Truscott above Arras. We flew back to our aerodrome, and after landing Walkerdine said that the D.F.W. which he had tackled went down in a dive, but he did not see it crash. A few minutes afterwards Archie rang up confirming both machines down – Walkerdine’s at Neuvireuil and mine at Rouvroy, S.E. of Lens.

After I had eaten lunch I went out alone for the third time that day, but the visibility was poor and there was very little enemy activity, so I very soon returned to the aerodrome.

The next day, November 30th, I led my patrol over the lines at Bourlon Wood and at once commenced fighting with several Albatroses. Down in Bourlon Wood itself the enemy were absolutely raining gas shells. We gained no decision with the enemy over Bourlon Wood, and I now saw seven two-seater machines coming west over Cantaing, so we flew to the attack, and I settled my opponent at once, for he started gliding down emitting clouds of steam.

I now flew east of him and turned him off west, and he then landed in our lines intact near Havrincourt. While I had been tackling him the enemy gunner had hit my radiator with an explosive bullet which knocked a big hole in it, so, having to go down in any case, I landed alongside the Hun. Just as I had almost stopped my wheels ran into a small shell-hole and my machine stood gracefully on its nose. I got out and, after having pulled the tail down, ran over to where the Hun was and found the pilot having a tourniquet put on his arm, for he was badly shot, whilst the German gunner, a weedy-looking specimen, looked on very disconsolately. The pilot died on the way to hospital, and the gunner, a Corporal, was marched off.

I had a look at the machine, which was an L.V.G. and was brand new, and then telephoned my squadron for a new radiator and propeller for my machine and a breakdown party to collect the Hun’s.

While waiting I was talking to an infantry Colonel, who asked me what things looked like from the air, as the Germans had reported as having broken into our line. I told him I had not seen much of the activity on the ground, because all my attention was centred on the aerial aspect. I had just had lunch with him and was just leaving his dugout when “crack, crack, crack, crack,” came from above, and looking up we saw a Pfalz firing at one of our advanced balloons, which at once burst into flames and commenced to fall. The occupants at once both jumped out, and their parachutes opened at once, so they came down quite safely in our lines, for there was not much wind. I noticed that one man came down much quicker than the other, so I suppose that he was much fatter.