1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) (15 page)

Meanwhile Hutton and Laithwaite had concentrated their fire on the leader. One of the rounds must have struck the fuel tank for it exploded in the air.  Freddie had damaged his enemy and, as he glanced at me I waved north. He nodded and we both began to swing our aeroplanes towards the three, now isolated Fokkers. As they came around Fryer and his gunner both struck one aeroplane.  Hutton and Laithwaite struck the second and, as the third tried to head east Dunston and Giggs hit him.  Suddenly there was clear air before us.  Two Fokkers were heading east while a third fell to its death.

I dipped my nose, desperately trying to use the altitude and extra speed to put air between us and the Germans. “Rear Lewis, Hutton.”

He had a fearful expression for manning the rear Lewis when diving gave you the feeling that you were about to fall backwards out of the aeroplane. When he was secure he shouted, “They have reorganised.  There are nine of them and they are diving.” I looked at the altimeter.  We were now down to five thousand feet but, more importantly, we could see Gordy ahead. It looked like they were strafing ground troops.  I pulled my Very Pistol out and fired a flare. I hoped he would see it and know that we were in trouble.

“They are gaining, sir. Mr Dunston is taking hits. They are too far away for me to hit.” Suddenly he shouted, “Reload the Very sir and hand it to me!” I did as asked, my curiosity piqued. He seemed to aim it, firing at a very shallow angle. He watched, his tongue peeping between his lips.  Then he shouted, “Yee Haw!”

I would have to wait until we landed to find out the reason for the shout. Perhaps it was the second flare which Gordy saw for his five aeroplanes began to ascend in a ragged line.  I saw Freddie look over and I signalled for a turn to port.  We would sweep around and climb with Gordy.  The Fokkers would have to face ten Gunbuses and twenty Lewis guns.

Hutton shouted, “Mr Dunston is hit.  He is heading north.”

Those were my standing orders.  If you were damaged then you headed for home.  Our turn helped him as we swept around and Giggs and his gunner hit the pursuing Fokker who thought he had an easy kill.  He proved to be the easier kill. The Germans were not expecting reinforcements and a wall of bullets made them decide that they had done enough for their dead leader and they turned.  One pilot, with a red jagged line running the length of the fuselage bravely tried to take on Gordy but D flight converged on him and his brightly painted Fokker was riddled with bullets.  Amazingly it did not fall from the air.  He was a good pilot and he dived below us and out of the range of our guns.

It was time for us to head home too.  We followed the smoking Gunbus of Lieutenant Dunston and I thanked whatever premonition had warned me of danger.  It had saved all of us.

“While you are there Lumpy, check the damage to the other buses.”

“Righto sir.” I saw him scanning both sides. “They are all pretty badly shot up, sir. We’ll be lucky to take a full flight up tomorrow. How are we?”

The controls felt a little sluggish and the yoke was not as responsive as it normally was.  We too had been damaged. I prayed that the undercarriage had not been hit.  That often killed crews which had survived fierce fire fights.  The problem with dogfights such as the one we had just experienced was that they happened so quickly and you were so busy firing that you shut out the hits to your own craft. The windsock in the distance made me feel a little better.  Dunston fired his Very pistol and I saw the ambulances race to the field.  He landed, safely enough, and I saw him jump down and run around to the front cockpit.  The injury was to his gunner.

I let the others land first.  They managed it successfully except for Giggs.  His undercarriage had been damaged and as it collapsed he caught the tip of his wing and the whole bus slewed to the side.  Both of the crew climbed out safely.

When we rolled to a halt I leaned forward and kissed the instrument panel, “Well done Caesar! Well done!”

I climbed out and Lumpy Hutton patted the horse insignia. Although there were many holes in the cockpit, the horse had not suffered at all. “This is a lucky horse sir.”

“What did you hit with the flare?”

“Nothing sir but it exploded just in front of the leading aeroplane and he swerved away.  It took him five minutes to get back in a firing position.”

I shook my head in admiration, “My God, man, you have a fearful imagination!”

I took my pipe from my pocket.  I could feel myself slowing down. It was always the same after action.  I had found that filling and smoking my pipe brought me back to earth easily. Gordy and Ted walked towards me as I left Sergeant Hutton to complete his examination of the aeroplane. “It looks like you ran into trouble.”

I began to fill my pipe, “We did, Ted.” I told him of the ambush. By the time the pipe was going we had reached the headquarters.  “The trouble is I think they have a higher ceiling than we do.  We were pretty much at our limit when we engaged them.  It means that they can always have the height advantage and, with the speed advantage, that puts us on the defensive.”

Captain Marshall and Major Leach were in the office and heard the end of our conversation. “Your buses look pretty badly shot up, Bill.”

I nodded, “And I think we took some casualties.  Dunston’s gunner was hit.  The boys did well and it could have been much worse.”

“It is not going so well on the ground either. It looks like the advance is going slower.”

Ted asked, “Slower?”

“In the first week the offensive gained some miles.  In the second week it has been in yards. We have made a bump in the front line.”

“Is the offensive over then?” A large part of me wanted it to be. I was not afraid to face the Germans but it seemed such a waste of brave infantry to bleed so much and to gain so little.

“No, the generals will continue to push and hope that the enemy breaks first.”

“The good news is that the Engineers will be over tomorrow to build a couple of new buildings and to make some emplacements for guns. We are getting some anti-aircraft guns. It seems the Germans have been bombing airfields in other sectors. Wing wants us be prepared.”

Bates must have been watching for me.  As I entered the building he tut-tutted me.  “Captain Harsker, I have seen that aeroplane of yours! I have seen moth eaten suits with fewer holes in it. You need to take more care of yourself, sir.”

I chuckled. Bates had no concept of aerial warfare.  Perhaps I ought to take him up for a spin.  Then I looked at the neat little man.  He would go but it would break him. “I am afraid, Bates, that the Germans were out to get us today.  They had twice as many aeroplanes as we did.  We were lucky to get out unscathed.”

He looked incredulous, “You call that unscathed sir?  Dear me. Well let’s get you in the bath and cleaned up.  You will feel much better.”

He was like my mother when I had been a young boy. But he was right. When I re-entered the bathroom in my robe he was waiting for me with a drink.  “Here you are sir.” As I sipped it he looked at me critically. “Sir, do you mind an impertinence?”

“That depends how impertinent Bates.  Go on.”

“Your moustache, sir, it just seems to grow.”

“That’s what hair does Bates.”

“Yes sir, I know,” he added patiently, “but with a little judicious trimming it could have more style.”

I stood and looked in the mirror.  He was right.  It looked like a ragged hairy caterpillar crawling across my top lip.  I had grown it to emulate Lord Burscough but it looked nothing like his.  I contemplated shaving it off. “Perhaps I will remove it.”

“No sir, just sit down and let me go to work.” He beavered away with the scissors for ten minutes or so and then said, “There you are, sir, look at it now.”

I looked in the mirror and it was neat and looked like Lord Burscough’s.  “Excellent Bates.”

He looked crestfallen, “Sir, it is not finished!” He took a small bottle with an aromatic liquid in it and put a tiny amount on his fingers.  He began to work it into the moustache and then spread his arms at the mirror.

I looked and saw that it now had style. “That is a good job Bates but how will I get it to look as good as this on my own?”

“You do not need to, sir.  You have, Bates!”

He spun, almost like a ballet dancer and left triumphantly.  It was at that moment that I saw that I was part of his rehabilitation. He could not have done this for his gentlemen in the trenches but he could here and each time I returned he would have more confidence that I would survive.  He was like one of my young pilots.  I needed to nurture and care for him too.  I had thought it was the other way around.

When I was dressed and feeling human again I went to find Senior Flight Sergeant McKay. “Well, Flight, what is the damage?”

“I reckon we can have you and Mr Giggs in the air tomorrow and that will be it.  Sorry sir.”

“Not your fault. Get your lads to rig the bomb racks to the two aeroplanes.”

He frowned, “I didna see that on the schedule for tomorrow.”

“You didn’t I will go and see Major Leach now.”

Archie was in his office, apparently drowning in paperwork. “I can see why the Colonel never flew! This stuff seems to have a mind of its own and just grow and grow.”

I laughed and began to fill my pipe.  “How is he by the way?”

“Much improved.  He is back in Blighty now in a civilian hospital specialising in heart cases. Headquarters confirmed he won’t be back.  If he doesn’t want to retire they will give him a desk job.”

“Good.  Listen, Major I want to try something tomorrow.”

He leaned back and put his arms behind his head.  “Go ahead, any distraction is welcome!”

“I only have two aeroplanes fit to fly tomorrow.”

“We have nothing major on.  The offensive is going nowhere and the brass is planning what to do next.  You could just stand your flight down.  They have had a tough time of late. I know that the others are going to stand down.  Their buses need some maintenance.”

“I know but Giggs and I both have new buses and Hutton came up with an idea.  He suggested taking four bombs up with us when we fly.  If we don’t meet aeroplanes we can do more damage with bombs than guns alone. I was going to take Giggs up today.  He hasn’t used bombs yet and I will be able to gauge how viable a proposition it is.”

He leaned forward and picked up his pen again, “You are second in command laddie, if you think it is a good idea then just do it.”

“Thank you sir.”

After dinner I took young Giggs to one side.  “Tomorrow, Rupert, there will be just you and me flying.”

His face broke into a grin, “Good show sir!”

“Get excited after I tell you what we are about. You are having bombs fitted to your bus.  If we don’t see the Hun we will find some Germans to bomb and strafe. Hutton is telling your gunner all that he needs to know about bombing.”

He looked disappointed, “Bombing sir?”

“It is a valuable mission, Rupert.  We are not here to garner glory by shooting down Hun planes.  We are here to support our infantry and win the war! Never forget that.”

“Sorry sir, right sir.  I will go and have a word with Reg now.”

Word soon got out and I was inundated with young pilots keen to join me. The exception was Lieutenant Carstairs.  I could see from his expression, when Rupert told him what we were going to do, that he thought it beneath a noble knight. Bombing was like being a delivery man and not a knight.

As I was eating a light breakfast the next day I heard guns to the west. It sounded like there was an attack going on after all.  The front was still quite fluid in places and battalions tried to eliminate those strong points which might be used to launch sneak attacks or use as artillery observation points.  Perhaps a colonel had elected to take matters into his own hands.

As Rupert and I made our way to our buses I saw the vehicles arrive with the Engineers. A few moments couldn’t hurt and I waited as they drove up to the Mess Halls.  I was delighted when Bert, now a sergeant, jumped down.  He saluted me and I pulled his cap down over his eyes and then shook his hand, “It’s still me you daft bugger. How are you doing, Bert?”

He tapped his stripes, “I thought I was doing well until I saw the MC. Well done our kid.” I shrugged. “And our Alice says you have got a young lady.  Very pretty and nice by all accounts.  I shall have to get myself wounded and find one for me.”

“Don’t you dare.  Listen I have a mission to go on.  I’ll see you when I get back.”

“Oh we’ll be here.  We have enough work for two days.”

There was a spring in my step as I strode to my Gunbus.  Bert looked well and he had filled out.  I had begun the war with three brothers and Bert was the only one left.  It made him more special somehow.

Rupert was waiting with the two sergeants by the aeroplanes.  “Now you will have to just follow me today.  When and if we go in for a bombing run give me a couple of hundred feet.” I looked at his gunner.  “It’s Reg isn’t it?”

“Yes sir.”

“Sergeant Hutton here is a good bomb aimer.  Look to where he drops his and try to drop them close. No one is judging you today so don’t freeze. We just want to see how you both cope with this.  Right?”