Winged Warfare (12 page)

By this time I had learned nearly all of the fundamental principles of fighting in the air and had more or less decided upon exactly what tactics were best for me to use. I also realised the exact limit of my ability in carrying these various tactics out, and in fighting acted accordingly. I was more than ever firmly resolved now that having got so far in the game, and past its most dangerous stages, I would take no foolish risks, but continue to wait for the best opportunities. It was very hard to restrain one's self at times but from the middle of May until I left France in August, I lost only one man out of my patrol killed, and he was shot down on an expedition when I was not with him.

When flying alone, on a day off or something like that, I took queer chances, it is true, but flying with the patrol often let opportunities slip by because they were not quite good enough but when the right ones came, we were quick to seize them and were nearly always successful.

I had learned that the most important thing in fighting was the shooting, next the various tactics in coming into the fight, and last of all flying ability itself. The shooting, as I have said before, I practised constantly and became more and more expert at it, with the result that finally I had great confidence in myself, and knew for a certainty that if I only could get in a shot from one of two of my favourite positions, I would be successful in downing my opponent.

To those who have never seen a war machine I would explain that to control one, the pilot has to manipulate but a single lever which we call the “joystick.” It is very much like the lever with which you shift gears on an automobile but it moves in four directions. If you would want your machine to go down, the instinctive move would be to lean the body forward. Therefore, the fighting aeroplane is so rigged that when the pilot pushes the “joystick” forward, the nose of the machine points down. In the same way, if he pulls the “joystick” back, the nose goes up and the machine climbs at any angle he wants it to. In turning, it is necessary to bank the machine otherwise it will skid outwards. It is also just as necessary that the machine is not banked too much. This is one of the first things a pupil is taught when learning to fly.

The “joystick” also controls the banking. By moving it to either side you can tilt up whichever wing is desired. At his feet the pilot has a rudder bar which controls the horizontal direction of the machine. If he pushes his left foot forward and banks slightly, the machine turns slowly to the left. To go to the right, there is only necessary a push with the right foot and a slight bank. The pilot thus has both feet on the rudder bar; holds the “joystick” with his right hand, and with his left controls the engine of the machine by holding the throttle in his hand. He is always able to do anything he wishes either with the engine or the machine itself. When firing the gun he simply moves his thumb slightly along the “joystick” and presses the lever which pulls the trigger.

To be able to fight well a pilot must be able to have absolute control over his machine. He must know by the “feel” of it exactly how the machine is, what position it is in, and how it is flying, so that he may manoeuvre rapidly, and at the same time watch his opponent or opponents. He must be able to loop, turn his machine over on its back and do various other flying “stunts,” not that these are actually necessary during a combat, but from the fact that he has done these things several times he gets absolute confidence and when the fight comes along he is not worrying about how the machine will act. He can devote all his time to fighting the other fellow; the flying part of it coming instinctively. Thus the flying part, although perhaps the hardest to train a man for, is the least important factor in aerial fighting. A man's flying ability may be perfect. He may be able to control the machine and handle it like no one else on earth, but if he goes into a fight and risks his life many times to get into the right position for a good shot and then upon arriving there can not hit the mark, he is useless. Unable to shoot his opponent down he must risk his life still more in order to get out and away from the enemy, and that is why I put aerial gunnery down as the most important factor in fighting in the air.

Tactics are next important because, by the proper use of the best tactics, it is so easy to help eliminate risks and also so easy to put the enemy at a great disadvantage. Surprise is always to be aimed for. Naturally if one can surprise the enemy and get into a proper position to shoot before he is aware of your presence, it simplifies matters tremendously, and there should be no second part to the fight. But it is a very hard thing to do as every fighting man in the air is constantly on the lookout for enemy machines. To surprise him requires a tremendous amount of patience and many failures before one is ever successful. A point to know is the fact that it is easier to surprise a formation of four or six than it is to surprise one or two. This is probably because the greater number feel more confident in their ability to protect themselves, and also are probably counting upon each other to do a certain amount of the looking out.

When flying alone or with just one other, it is always a case of constantly turning around in your seat, turning your machine to right or left, looking above and around or below you all the time. It is a very tiring piece of work so it is but natural that when you have three or four other men behind you, you spend more time looking in the direction where you hope the enemy machines are, if you want to attack them, and to looking at any interesting sights which are on the ground.

In ordinary fight or duel, we had tactics, of course, to suit the occasion. The great thing was to never let the enemy's machine get behind you, or “on your tail.” Once he reaches there it is very hard to get him off, as every turn and every move you make, he makes with you. By the same token it is exactly the position into which you wish to get, and once there you must constantly strive for a shot as well as look out for attacks from other machines that may be near. It is well if you are against odds never to stay long after one machine. If you concentrate on him for more than a fraction of a second, some other Hun has a chance to get a steady shot at you, without taking any risks himself. To hit a machine when it is flying at right angles to you across your nose is very hard. It requires a good deal of judgment in knowing just how far ahead of him to aim. It is necessary to hit the pilot himself and not the machine to be successful, and also necessary to hit the pilot in the upper part of the body where it will be more certain to put him completely out of action at once. When a machine goes into flames it is largely a matter of luck, as it means that several of your bullets have pierced the petrol tank and ignited the vapour escaping from it.

In our tactics we used this cross shot, as it is called, considerably; mainly when, after a combat has been broken off for some reason, guns having jammed or the engine running badly, it becomes necessary to escape. Upon turning to flee, your opponent is able to get a direct shot at you from behind. This is decidedly dangerous; so, watching carefully over your shoulder and judging the moment he will open fire, you turn your machine quickly so as to fly at right angles to him, his bullets will generally pass behind you during the manoeuvre. The next thing to do is to turn facing him and open with your cross fire.

In fighting in company with other machines of your own squadron one must be very careful to avoid collisions, and it is also necessary to watch all of them carefully as well as the enemy, because it is a code of honour to help out any comrade who is in distress, and no matter how serious the consequences may seem, there is .only one thing to do dash straight in, and at least lend moral support to him. In one case I had a Captain out of my own squadron, a New Zealander, come eight miles across the lines after both his guns had choked, and he was entirely useless as a fighting unit, just to try and bluff away seven of the enemy who were attacking me. It was unnecessary in this case as I had the upper hand of the few machines that were really serious about the fight, but it was a tremendously brave act on his part, as he ran tremendous risks of being killed, while absolutely helpless to defend himself in any way.

All fights vary slightly in the tactics required, and it is necessary to think quickly and act instantly. Where a large number of machines are engaged, one great thing is always to be the upper man, that is to be slightly higher than your particular opponent. With this extra height it is quite easy to dive upon him and it makes manoeuvring much easier. If, as is often the case, you are the “under dog,” it is a very difficult position, and requires great care to carry on the fight with any chance of success. Every time your opponent attempts to dive at you, or attack you in any way, the best thing to do is to turn on him, pull the nose of your machine up and fire. Often while fighting it is necessary to attack a machine head on until you seem to be just about to crash in mid-air. Neither machine wants to give way, and collisions have been known to occur while doing this. We prided ourselves that we hardly ever gave way, and the German was usually the first to swerve. At the last moment one of you must dodge up and the other down, and there is great risk of both of you doing the same thing, which, of course, is fatal. It is perhaps one of the most thrilling moments in fighting in the air when you are only 100 yards apart, and coming together at colossal speed, spouting bullets at each other as fast as you can.

Once you have passed you must turn instantly to keep your opponent from getting a favourable position behind you, and then carry on the fight in the usual series of turns and manoeuvres. An extraordinary feature of these fights which occupied any length of time, and entailed such manoeuvring, was the fact that they were generally undecisive, one machine or the other finally deciding that for some reason or other it must quit and make good its escape. In nearly all cases where machines have been downed, it was during a fight which had been very short, and the successful burst of fire had occurred within the space of a minute after the beginning of actual hostilities.

A new kind of enemy was meeting us now—a two-seater machine which mounted a small cannon, or shell-firing gun. This was a sort of “pom-pom” gun, discharging about a one-pound shell, which would either burst upon percussion, or after travelling a certain distance through the air. Several times, while attacking machines doing artillery work, we were surprised to see little white puffs around us, and realised suddenly that these were small bursting shells. However, they did no harm that I know of, and the Huns did not seem to be able to make even decent shooting with them. The first two or three times we met up with them they rather frightened us, and we kept away from their field of fire, but after a little bit of experience we found there was nothing to worry about. Their shooting was so bad the shells invariably burst well to one side. Personally, I much preferred “pom-pom” to the wicked rattle of a pair of machine guns pointing at me, and the streaks of their smoking bullets whining by.

Day after day we chased these machines away from their work, only to have to go out an hour later and chase them again. Sometimes we would force them right down to the ground, and that would often finish them for the day, but it was very seldom that anything decisive occurred.

On the twenty-fourth of June in the early morning, while leading a patrol, I ran into a German pilot of exceptional quality. Another fighting patrol of ours had been attacking him, when I saw him, and I headed in their direction to watch the fight, but they evidently had had enough of it, and left him. We, in our turn, took him on, and there followed an extremely hot engagement. He managed to get into the middle of us, and it was all we could do to keep from colliding, as we attacked him. Finally, to add to our disgust, he broke off the combat of his own sweet will just at the moment he felt he had had enough, and dived away. As we followed, diving after him, he would turn under us, then dive again, and repeat this performance. It was a most trying thing. I would dive after him, then the moment I stopped firing and pulled up to turn and watch where he went, I would probably just miss by inches one of our own machines, also diving at him, with his eyes on nothing but the enemy. The danger of collision in such an attack is very great, and requires a constant lookout.

Later in the morning I went out again, alone, and saw two enemy scouts. I climbed up above them, and watched carefully, deciding that I would take no chances of losing them. Finally I discovered that they were patrolling a given beat, and by waiting up above, at one end of this beat, I was able, just at the moment that they turned to go back along it again, to dive down, approaching them from behind, and come up behind the rear one without him seeing me. I got within twenty yards of him, and just slightly underneath and behind, I pulled the nose of my machine up, and with very careful aim opened fire. A second later and his machine smoked a bit, then suddenly burst into flames and fell toward the ground. The other one had dived away from me at first, but now climbed back to attack me. I dived at him twice, and opened fire both times, but without result. The second time I think he was hit, but not seriously, as he dived away and escaped, going through the clouds.

Not long after that I met three more of the enemy, and had a funny fight with them, by worrying them from above. In the course of a number of short dives, I suddenly ran out of ammunition. They had seemed, up to this moment, quite keen to fight, and so was I, but now I decided I must get away somehow. I was somewhat surprised when I discovered that at the same moment I commenced to escape, they also did. We both noticed at the same time that the other side was willing to break it off, and as the Hun turned to attack me from behind, while I was escaping, I turned to try to bluff him away. It worked perfectly, and the whole three of them again turned their noses east and flew away. It had been some time since I had brought down an enemy machine, and I hoped the one in flames this day would change my luck for the better again. I think it did, for in the week which followed, I brought down five in all.

Victory flew with me the following day when I managed to get two more scouts on my list. While flying alone, I saw three of them, protecting a two-seater. They were very intent upon watching their charge and had not noticed me, so I flew away some distance and climbed well above them, to make certain they had no machines in layer formation above. Then I dived on the three scouts. Again I surprised the rear man, and after twenty-five rounds, well placed, he burst into flames and went down. The other two were at the moment turning towards me, but upon seeing the fate of their comrade, one of them dived away and went down near the two-seater. The other one turned to engage me. In the short fight that followed, he got some bullets very close to me, and I to him, but three or four minutes neither of us seemed able to get an appreciable advantage of the other. Then, suddenly I managed to get a chance from an angle I knew very well, and opened fire. He immediately dropped out of control, and I dived after him, firing as he fell. Having finished one drum of ammunition I had to come out of the dive to put a new one on. The other scout and two-seater, were still in the same place, so getting above them I tried two dives, but without result. The observer on the two-seater was doing remarkably good shooting, and I did not like to get too close, as it seemed a poor way to end a morning's work, by being shot down after starting so well. Finishing my ammunition at fairly long range, I returned home.

My luck still held the next day when I found some more scouts, in straggling formation. The rear one was slightly above the rest, which was very much to my liking, so down I went after him. Again the surprise was successful, and, after a short burst, out of control he went. I was getting quite callous in doing this, and was afraid of myself becoming careless. The only danger I ran was in the fact that I might become careless, and if caught while creeping up behind these people, and they had a chance to turn on me, it would be a very unhappy position to be in. However, this time it was as successful as the rest, and as two more scouts who were next highest seemed willing to fight, I went down after them. As I approached, one of the two lost his nerve and dived away. The other made a turn to come at me, but I opened fire with rough aim while still a hundred yards away. It was a purely lucky shot, and one of my bullets must have accidentally hit an important wire in his machine, as suddenly, while doing an exceedingly quick turn, two of his planes flew away, and his machine fell in pieces.

I did not have any more luck for several days, most of my fights being in the usual job of chasing away artillery machines; taking all the risks, and never having a chance to get in a decent shot.

A few days later, while out in the morning, thick clouds prevented our seeing very much. Several times, while going around or under the clouds, I would suddenly catch sight of an enemy machine, then lose it again a moment or two later. Once I saw a scout about 300 yards away, but he immediately dived toward some clouds, and I could only open fire from long range in the hope of frightening him down. Meeting up with one of my own squadron, who was also flying alone, a few minutes later, we discovered a machine directly underneath us. Down we both went at him, and opened fire, but he also disappeared into a cloud, and we flew away. Five minutes later he again appeared beneath us. Down at him we went but again he dug himself into the clouds.

After each fight it would be necessary to make certain where you were, as a strong wind from the west kept blowing the machines in toward Hunland. I had five fights in the course of the morning, but none of them was successful, or very exciting.

The next day at noon, however, I had enough excitement to last me for some time. While on patrol and flying nearly three miles up, I saw approaching us from the direction of Germany a fast Hun two-seater of the enemy. I guessed at once he thought to cross our lines, and flew to attack him. He had seen us, however, and headed in the other direction immediately. I found I could not catch up with him, so, in great disgust gave up the chase; then, on thinking it over, decided that if he had orders to cross the lines he would probably make another attempt. So I flew well off to one side and climbed as fast as I could. I could just see him—a speck in the distance—and could see that he also was climbing. Finally, when he reached what he surmised was a safe height he approached our lines again. I did not make another attempt to stop him, hoping that he would get well across, and then I would come between him and his own country. He saw me attempt to do this, and evidently hoped to evade me by climbing up still higher. Eighteen thousand feet was reached, and we were still climbing at about the same pace. He went well into our territory, and I followed at a great distance, watching carefully. Then, the moment he started for home, went after him. At 19,500 feet we approached each other. I opened fire while coming head on at him. He swerved slightly, and in doing so upset my aim. If we had been lower, I would certainly have hit him, but the great height and great cold had made my hand numb and a little unsteady in controlling the machine. He flew across, in front of me, and I turned with him to get in another shot. His observer's face I could make out, as he was firing his gun frantically at me. We passed only about ten yards apart, yet I was shooting so badly I did not bring him down. Then, in holding the nose of my machine up, to get a last shot at him, I lost too much speed, and suddenly fell several thousand feet completely out of control. By the time I had straightened out the enemy had escaped, and, in disgust, I rejoined the rest of the patrol, and continued to fly up and down the lines.

Just as we intended returning, I saw five of the enemy some distance away, and underneath us, so flew over and engaged them from above. The fight was at 7,000 feet, the height I liked the best, so I went into it vigorously. Suddenly, while diving on a Hun machine, I heard the rattle of a pair of machine guns just behind me. I was certain that I had been trapped and was being fired at from a few feet behind me, so turned quickly, just to see one of our own machines shoot by underneath me. I continued my dive again, but the opportunity was lost, so went down after another one of the machines. For ten minutes this fight continued. Many times I would dive down, open fire, and then come up and turn away, at the same time avoiding others of our machines which were diving and firing as they came. At last I was successful. One of the Germans seemed to be enjoying the fight, and had the impudence to loop directly under me. I happened to be diving just as he reached the top of the loop, and as he was coming out of it I got a direct shot on to the bottom of his machine, as it was turned upside down. He fell out of control, and crashed on the ground underneath us.

Another machine had now joined the fight—a machine from one of our naval squadrons stationed in France, and he also was doing very well as I saw a machine which he fired at, fall out of control. Then suddenly, the remainder of the Germans—they had been reinforced by others—turned away, and escaped, flying very near the ground. We returned home, and I waved to our new acquaintance from the naval squadron, so he followed me back to the aerodrome and landed beside me, to tell me that he had also seen my machine crash. It turned out that this man was the one who was leading the naval flyers and was next to me, at that time, in the number of machines which had been brought down by an Englishman then in France. It was his twenty-fifth machine.