1914 (British Ace) (30 page)

He looked at me in surprise.  “But you are a pilot!”

“All the more reason for me to fix my own machine.
  I don’t mind getting my hands dirty. But that is for tomorrow.  Let’s get washed up and then you can take your maps and reports to the intelligence officer.”

Lieutenant Marshall had been promoted to Captain and given the role of Intelligence officer.  It suited his organised mind.

Gordy and Ted caught up with us. Ted put an arm on each of our shoulders. “I’ll tell you what lads, that was bloody good flying out there.” He jerked his head at Captain Dundas.  “The dozy bugger wasted time worrying which of you to help.  It would have been a disaster.”

I laughed, “But it wasn’t so forget it.  We have learned a lesson today.  Next time Gordy and
I will stay closer together.”

“Amen to that brother.” He grinned at me.  “Another two and half and you will be an ace!”

“Don’t be daft.  I was just lucky.”

Gordy shook his head, “I should be so lucky.”

Major Hewitt was delighted and, when we made our report we saw that he had a black board in his office.  Our names were there and next to them the number of kills. As I went in I saw him putting my new successes up there.  My name was at the top.  I was the leading pilot in the squadron.

Major Hewitt nodded, “You two could have been flying for months you know.” He stared at Ted.
“How about you, Flight?”

Ted backed off, “No sir.  I am quite happy doing what I do sir!”

Major Hewitt said, “There is something a little incongruous about you saying you are happy, Thomas, you always look as though you have the worries of the world on your shoulders.”

Our aeroplane took three days to repair during which time our flight was stood down.  All three aircraft had suffered damage.  It left just the major and the seven lieutenants to patrol.  He divided them into two flights and he led the one with just three aircraft.  The first day was a milk run.  They came back without firing their guns at all.

Poor Ted was beside himself, “How come those lucky buggers get to swan around the German line and don’t even have to fire their guns and we look as though the mice have been at us! There’s no justice!”

Those words left a sour taste the next day when two of the young fliers failed to return.  They had both been in the flight of four and the Germans who had jumped them had been flying Albatros aeroplanes.  They had had a disaster.  One of them
, piloted by Lieutenant Cox, had tried to bank too steeply when the gunner was firing the rear Lewis and the unfortunate gunner had fallen from the aircraft.  The Germans had easily destroyed the defenceless aeroplane. As the second one had tried to climb out of trouble, its engine had been hit.  It had crash landed in no-man’s land and we did not know the outcome. 

The major had Gordy and me in his office that evening after the meal. “Sit down boys.” I smiled to myself, Gordy was at least ten years older than the major and I was about the same age.
He took a bottle of whisky from his drawer and three glasses. He poured us a healthy glass each.  I was not a spirit drinker but it would have been rude to refuse. “Cheers!”

“Cheers.”

It burned as it went down but I enjoyed the taste. I noticed that the major had emptied his own glass and he refilled it. He gestured with the bottle but we shook our heads, “There’s no getting around it, today was a disaster.” He looked at me. “You lost men on the Yser, Harsker.  How did you tell the families of those who died?”

The memory made me frown a little and I sipped the whisky.
“It was different for me sir, I had grown up with most of the lads so I either wrote a letter or, in the case of the brothers, I went to see the mother.”

Both of them looked surprised.  “You had to tell a mother both
of her sons were dead?”

“Yes sir and she was a widow too.”

“How did you do it?”

“I told the truth but left out the pain
the boys had suffered.”

The major nodded and finished his whisky. “That isn’t the reason I brought you both here. I intend to offer you both a commission.  It seems the general thinks highly of us and so we can do this.  Your flight, with Captain Dundas, is the best flight in the squadron.  I can’t be a baby minder all the time. I need to split the flight up and use each of you as a Flight Commander.  You will need to be an officer.  The young lads will listen to you.  They respect you
, I know that. Well?”

I looked at Gordy who said, “I didn’t become a pilot to be an officer sir but I understand what you are saying.  I accept.” He put his hand across the table and they shook.

  “I am honoured that you want me as an officer sir.  I accept too.” He shook my hand.

“We will be getting replacements soon so, for the time being,
you two need to take one of the young lieutenants under your wing so to speak and teach them how to be a flier. You are both experienced gunners and that is what this will all be about soon.  We will become fighters.  Captain Burscough and his squadron of Bristols is a picture of the future. They need what you both have, flying sense. Your new rank and pay grade will begin immediately.  I would get the tailor to make you a new uniform each.  It will cost you a couple of bob each but it will be worth it.” He stood as did we, “I’d like to thank you both.”

When we got outside we both kept a straight face and marched back to the sergeant’s mess. Ted was sat, nursing a beer.  We sat opposite him. “What did his nibs want?”

Gordy leaned forward, grabbed Ted’s ears and pulled him forward.  He planted a kiss on his forehead. “What the bloody …”

He was clenching his fists when I said, “He made us officers.  We are Second Lieutena
nts.“ I waved my arm around the mess, “We’ll be in the officer’s mess soon so let’s have one last night here eh?  We won’t be flying tomorrow anyway.”

He actually smiled, “
Well done but don’t expect a salute. And as you have more money it’s your shout.” As I got up to go to the bar I heard him say to Gordy.  “One thing’s for certain.  I am going to become a pilot.  I feel like a granddad with these young gunners.”

Private Sharp was delighted.  “That’s better sir, a pilot should be an officer.”

“But you want to be one don’t you?”

“Yes sir and you have shown us the way.”

I was still working in overalls despite the new uniform which was being made for me. The uniform and the salutes would not change the man within.  I had got where I was by being me.  If I changed then it could all crumble.

Lieutenant Murray was one of the survivors and he was told by the major that he was in my flight. I honestly think he was still in shock after the earlier debacle and he just nodded.  His Flight Sergeant, Walter Hibbert, was also new and he, too, appeared to have less confidence than Charlie Sharp.  It was a strange situation. With my bus all ship shape I took the three men who would be serving under me for a walk down the French lane towards the small village of Breteuil, a mile or so away.  I wanted informality.  I would do things my way.

“We are a team now.  We are C Flight.  In a few days we will be getting
more replacements and then we will have our third member of the flight.  I am new to this game so I am going to do it the way I think will work best.” I stopped and looked at them each in turn.  “Feel free to ask any questions about why I am doing what I do but I want things done my way.” I stared at Lieutenant Murray.  “I do not want to have to write a letter to anyone’s parents.  Right?”

They all nodded soberly.  I knew there was a small bar restaurant in the village and I assumed it would be open.  It was and there was an empty table outside.

“Let’s sit here.” A woman came out and gave a perfunctory wave of her cloth at the table, “Monsieur?”

“Vin rouge si vous plais.  Pour quatre.”

I knew that both my accent and my French were awful but that was all I had learned.  I smiled at the three of them. “I just wanted to sit and talk with you off the base.  If you don’t like red wine then just nurse it.  I am not keen myself but the beer is, frankly, awful.”

For some reason that made them smile and I saw Lieutenant Murray begin to relax for the first time. The wine came and I paid.  I knew they would allow me to run up a bill but I wanted to be able to leave when we needed to.
I held up my glass, “Here’s to C Flight,” I paused, “and those absent friends who would love to be raising a glass right now.”

“C Flight.”

“Right, let’s get down to basics.  Here are my rules.  John, you will always follow me and do whatever I do.  The new boy will do the same. Walter did you see the young observer fall out of the aircraft?”

“Yes sir.”

“Well that was nearly me and I hung on so if the worst happens then hang on to the Lewis. I am a big bugger and it held me. Right?” I saw him smile and relax.  “But John, when Walter is using the rear gun you have to fly straight and level; even if you are being fired upon.  That rear gun is our sting in the tail. Until we get another aeroplane then when we fly as a pair Walter’s job is to watch astern.  Charlie here will keep his eye on the front.” I drank some of my wine. “Charlie you have flown combat with me.  Any tips for these two?”

“Yes sir.” He held up a finger as he itemised each point. “Spare magazines, rifle in the cockpit. Fire in short burst
s as close as you can get to the enemy.”

“Good.  Couldn’t have said it better myself.”

“Sir?”

“Yes John?”

“Is it true that you have shot down a number of aeroplanes and balloons?”

“Yes why?”

“You only have two and a half on the black board in the office.”

I smiled.  “The rest were when I was a gunner. I have been reinvented. Besides I don’t care who shoots down the bastards so long as we shoot them. I would rather their pilots die
d than ours and that goes double for you John. A little tip Captain Burscough and I discovered is that, because the Albatros has a gun on the top wing, unless he is attacking from below all you need to do to avoid being hit is to dip your nose a little. He can’t aim at you then. That also allows the gunner to fire into the belly of his aircraft.”

“What if he is below you?”

“Then you bank and climb.  It is a risk but the enemy would have to second guess which direction you will climb.  Never repeat the same bank. Keep them guessing. Right.  Let’s go through some other little points. Hand signals…”

The time passed swiftly and they began to question me.  I was happy for I wanted them to know my mind.  I wanted John to be able to turn when I did and climb at the same time.  It would not happen straight away but when we achieved that then we would all have more chance of survival.
As we strolled back to the aerodrome I felt much happier.  For a few centimes I had learned more about my flight than a week of drills.

Out first patrol was two days later and I was eager to see how we fared over the trenches. It was a strictly observation patrol. I took us as high as we could manage without having breathing difficulties. The trenches and no-man’s land were quite obvious, even from that altitude. I signalled with my arm and we began a slow descent to a better altitude for observation.
As soon as we swooped down we saw the balloons beginning to make their descent. I had no idea about the other sectors but in ours they were wary of our attacks.

I signalled to John to keep a watch for Germans and I was pleased to see Walter watching our stern.  The patrol had been a success already.  Lessons had been learned. As we flew along the lines of trenches Charlie marked positions on the map and then sketched new defences.  He was a much better and neater draughtsman than I had been.  This would be valuable intelligence.

Suddenly John appeared next to me and pointed astern; there were three German aeroplanes above us.  I signalled to return to base. With John tucked in astern I began to climb.  We had discovered that we could go marginally faster at higher altitude and it was harder for them to hit us with their wing mounted machine guns.  The day that someone invented a machine gun to fire through their propeller we were in trouble.  The German aeroplanes were faster and more manoeuvrable.  Our only advantage was forward fire power. Once we reached four thousand feet I levelled out and looked behind.  The nearest Albatros was less than a hundred yards astern of John.  This would be a stern test of his first lessons. Walter was braced against the side of the cockpit. I had told them both that they did not have to fly directly astern when we were under attack. He used that discretion at that moment. As the German came in for his attack John lifted the nose slightly and began to climb.  When I saw that I tapped Charlie on the head and he manned our rear Lewis.

John’s aircraft was going slower but Walter had a clear view of the German whose gun was no
w facing fresh air. Walter gave a burst and I saw the holes appear in the fuselage. I banked right slightly and also climbed.  Charlie fired a burst from his gun.  The Germans were now in a narrow channel and were being fired upon by two guns.  Their gunners could not fire and the pilots were hampered by the position of their gun.  Their superior speed also worked against them as they overtook us.  Two magazines were emptied into the three aeroplanes.