1917 Eagles Fall (14 page)

We were more evenly matched this time. As we had a slightly faster rate of climb than Ted I headed for the southernmost Huns. The LVG bravely assumed its position while the protecting fighters headed for us. I knew that the LVG would relay its information back quickly but we had to destroy or at least discourage the Fokkers.

They had the advantage of speed as they roared down towards us. I raised my nose and then dipped it. I feinted to port and then to starboard.  I wanted to make me as difficult to hit as possible. One advantage I had was that there were five of them and Johnny and Freddie were far enough away for me to have air room.  I side slipped to starboard as the first Fokker fired and then I jinked to port so that I attacked him from the side.  He could not fire at me and his neighbour had to turn. I waited until I was two hundred feet away and as the Fokker tried to turn to meet me I gave a ten second burst.  The .303 struck him along the cockpit and he slumped dead.  His aeroplane was undamaged and it continued its turn to port. I banked and climbed to my left. 

The second Fokker which had tried to turn to follow me suddenly smacked into the pilotless bird.  They exploded in a fiery ball. I banked to starboard. I would leave the three Fokkers who remained for Freddie and Johnny.  I dived after the LVG. His observer saw me and the Spandau began to bark. Perhaps he was lucky or I was careless but he struck my propeller.  I noticed the change in pitch.  I fired a long burst at him as he fled east.  I hit his fuselage and, when I saw his gunner slump in his seat I knew that they would take no more photographs.

I turned west.  There was little point in going on with a damaged propeller.  Although still flying the little Pup did not feel right and I was relieved to see the empty airfield.  For once I was the first to return.

Flight Sergeant Lowery raced over.  He knew our buses better than we did.  “There’s something wrong with her sir. Have you been hit?”

“Yes, Flight Sergeant Lowery.  The propeller.”

He walked to the front as I descended.  There was a hole on one side and an ugly crack along its length.  As he touched it a whole piece fell from it. He shook his head.  “You are lucky sir. Well that means you won’t be flying for a couple of days.  We will have to send for a spare.”

For some reason, that did not please me. I liked to share the dangers with my pilots and I hated the inactivity of just watching.

Randolph was philosophical when he heard about my damaged propeller. “It is a reasonable trade off, Bill.  You destroyed one aeroplane and stopped their spotting.  You will be out of the war for one perhaps two days at the most. It also works out for we needed a pilot to go to the front.  General Trenchard wants one of us to make a courtesy visit and jolly the troops up at the front.”

I was confused, “But why?”

“For some reason we are seen as the positive side of the war.  I know that we see the Hun winning but, by and large, the lads on the ground see us winning. It will just be one day.”

I remembered when the Colonel and I had visited with the Liverpool Pals battalion. It had seemed to make a difference to morale. I just felt a cheat.  I swanned in, shook a few hands and then swanned back to a comfortable billet.  The poor Tommies had lice, mud and rats to contend with.

“Very well, Randolph.”

“Take Bates with you.”

“Why?”

“If you go on your own then it looks like you have been sent because you have nothing better to do.  If you take Bates it looks planned. He can be your driver.  It will look more official.”

“But I am going because I am a spare part.”

He shrugged, “They don’t need to know that do they? You can take the major’s car.  I’ll get the directions for you later.”

I was the only casualty from the morning’s patrol and the rest of the squadron were in high spirits. That evening, as we sat in the mess, Freddie looked at me nervously.  “Come on Freddie, spit it out.”

“Well, sir, Johnny and I had a suggestion for Captain Thomas but it seemed impertinent to mention it.”

I saw Ted’s eyes flicker as he heard his name mentioned. “I am sure Captain Thomas would take any advice; especially as you have now shot down more Huns than he has.”

I said that loud enough for him to hear and he chuckled as he said, “Cheeky bugger! It’s only because I spend all my time running a kindergarten. Come on then what is this idea?”

“Well, sir, your Bristol is as fast as our Pup but you were flying it today as though it was a Gunbus.” I saw Ted’s eyes narrow. “No sir, what I mean is you can climb faster than a Gunbus and throw it around in the air.  It isn’t as though the gunner can fall out of the front like they can in a Gunbus is it sir?  And I think it will bank and turn far better than a Gunbus. In addition you have a good machine gun.  Don’t just get into a position for the gunner to get a good shot.  He is there to watch your back. The Bristol is made for fighting. It’s worth a try isn’t it sir?”

“You are talking as though it is a fighter!”

Charlie smiled, “Actually Ted, it is a two seater fighter.  In many ways it is better than a Pup as it has rear protection.”

“You’ve been doing your homework Charlie.”

“I can’t wait to get one.  It will be good to have something which can hold its own against an Albatros. I am fed up of being target practice.”

He really had matured over the past months.  I didn’t recognise him as the shy and nervous gunner I had first met.  He would make a good Flight Commander when we did get our Bristols.

“Anyway let me know how it goes.  I shall be in the trenches tomorrow.”

Ted shook his head, “I’d rather be in the air. I tell you what, young Carrick, I will give it a go tomorrow. You two will be flying on my wing anyway.  We might as well use the same tactics. Just remember the Bristol is a wee bit bigger than those toys of yours.”

They had taken off by the time that Bates and I headed up to Arras. Bates drove and he chattered away like a budgie all the way north. The town of Arras was full of military vehicles.  There were columns of men marching north. I heard the throb of Rolls Royce engines above and saw a squadron of Gunbuses preventing Germans from bombing the busy town. I followed the directions and found myself at a checkpoint where a Redcap held up his hand.  “This is as far as you can take a car sir.  It’s on foot from now on.”

“Thank you sergeant. Where can we leave it where it won’t be in the way?”

“Just over there sir, against the side of that building.”

The building he pointed to was a wall.  The rest had been destroyed by artillery.  I hoped I would not come back and find a car shrouded in rubble! I had been to the trenches before and Bates and I donned our tin lids. As we headed along a support trench I sensed the nervousness from Bates. “You can stay at the car if you like, John.  I know that this must be difficult for you.”

“No sir. I have to get back on the horse.  Besides this is just a visit.  It isn’t as though I have to sleep in a mud tomb is it?”

That brought home to me what the Tommies had to endure.  They dug their own graves and then had to sleep in them. We were to meet with a Colonel Roger DeVere who was keen to meet some fliers. When we met him I discovered why.  He had his own ideas about flying and aerial warfare.

“Jolly glad to meet you.” He pointed to my medals.  “M.C. eh?  How many of the Boche have you shot down then?”

I hated this game of numbers but whatever answer I gave it could be taken the wrong way.  “Oh, thirty or so.”

“Jolly good.  That makes you an ace.” He turned to the other officers in the dugout.  They all looked hollow eyed and grey and the assault had not even started.  “This is an ace chaps.” He shook my hand, “You know I would love to be a pilot.”

“You ought to train then sir.  We are always short of them.”

He took my arm and led me down the trenches.  “The thing is there is a tradition in my family of serving in the Army. The old chap was colonel of this regiment before me. Still, after the war I think I’ll learn.  It isn’t hard is it?”

“A little harder than it looks but, yes sir, you could learn.”

That seemed to satisfy him. “Good.  Now I wanted someone from the Royal Flying Corps to gee up morale.  As you probably know Zero Hour is in a few days and if they see a hero.” He tapped my tunic, “Well it helps them.”

He kept stopping to introduce me to huddles of soldiers.  I tried to be as cheerful and optimistic as I could despite the fact that I knew we were outgunned in the skies. We now had as much chance of dying as these young men who would have to march across mud, through machine guns and over barbed wire.

He stopped at what I thought was another bunker.  “We’ll have to stop here.  The Engineers are in there.”

Just then two Engineers came out of the tunnel.  One of them said, “Captain Harsker! You haven’t joined the infantry have you, sir?”

I vaguely recognised him as a comrade of Bert’s but I couldn’t have named him. I shook his hand, “No, just a visit. How is Bert?”

“I’ll go and get him.” Like the White Rabbit he disappeared down the hole.

“Sorry about this, sir.  My little brother is a sergeant in the Tunnellers.”

He smiled, “Don’t apologise.  They have done sterling work and they will save lives.  I wouldn’t like to do what they do.” He shuddered, “I hate confined spaces.”

“Then you would not like my aeroplane, sir.  It is very cramped and hard to get in and out of.”

Bert came out looking like a coal miner.  He grinned and his teeth looked shockingly white. “Nice to see you Bill!”

The colonel laughed for Bert was now very broad; digging had built up his muscles.  “He is you little brother?”

“He was until he started digging your tunnels.”

“I’ll go back to headquarters.  Get some tea or something on. You can find your own way can you?”

Bert saluted, “I’ll bring him sir.  I am due a half hour off anyway.”

I saw him looking at a bemused Bates. “This is Airman Bates, my servant.”

Bert raised his eyebrows but made no comment. “What are you doing here then? Checking up on me?”

“No, although mam did wonder why she hasn’t heard from you lately.”

“I never seem to have the time besides it is you they all want to write to.  You are the hero.”

“Don’t you start too! I just do my job.”

“I am not having a go. All the lads are envious of me having an ace for a brother.”

I shook my head. “Have you had a leave lately?”

“Nah.  We have been here since October. Us and the New Zealanders.  They are such nice chaps. They are tough too. I think I would like to go there after the war.  It seems a place where you can make something of yourself.”

“Speaking of that, our Alice is doing really well.  She designs dresses.” I suddenly realised he might not know the news. “Did you hear about Lord Burscough?”

“No.  What is it?”

“He was shot down a few weeks ago.  He was killed and the estate is crippled by death duties.”

“I liked Lord Burscough.  He was a genuine bloke.” I saw the concern on his face as he took in the import of the death.  “What about the cottage?”

Well our little sister has persuaded her boss to relocate to the estate and I think everything will be all right.”

“I hope so. At their age…”

“Quite.” We had reached the main headquarters trench. “The colonel reckons it is dangerous in the tunnels.”

“Well the Hun has started trying to dig underneath us. We now go armed but, like I said, those New Zealand boys are hard lads.  We give as good as we get.” He looked at his watch. “Well I had best get back.” He held out his hand for Bates. “Nice to have met you.”

“And you sir.”

He laughed, “Nah, just a sergeant!” he grasped my hand firmly.  “And you watch yourself but keep doing what you are doing. The lads love it.  Every time there is a newspaper story about one of you fly boys they dig a bit harder.”

“But why?”

He shrugged, “We are in the same army, we are brothers… I don’t know the reasons.  I just dig tunnels but I know that morale goes up every time we hear of a Hun being shot down.”

I nodded, “And you, write home!”

“I will.” He turned and strode confidently back to his hole in the ground.

“Sir, you didn’t mention Miss Porter and your engagement.”

“No Bates…” I shrugged, “I have enough to live up to as it is. It will be a nice surprise for him.”

I knew that Bates was not convinced but Bert had enough to live with.  I didn’t want something else for him to envy.

I was quiet on the journey back.  Bert had not lightened my load, he had added to it. He had also added worries for me. He was in more danger than I was. He seemed so confident and yet he was like a mole beneath the ground.  There could not be a greater contrast.  I soared like an eagle high in the sky; he burrowed beneath the ground out of sight of light. It did not seem fair.

The squadron had survived another day without casualties and they were in the mood for a celebration. When we had passed through Arras I had stopped and bought some decent wine, chosen by Bates, and some good cheese. It made me feel less guilty about having the day off.  I also found some tobacco I knew that Archie would like. The wine, cheese and tobacco seemed like the perfect accompaniment for the celebration.

I also felt more like celebrating.  My propeller had arrived and I could fly in the morning. Ted slapped me on the back.  “Your lads came up with a good idea. The Bristol is a good fighter.  She can’t turn like your Pups but you just aim and fire.  You don’t have to worry about shooting your gunner’s head off and you have two hundred and fifty bullets! And the range…”

“I wish you two would just shut up about your wonderful new aeroplanes.  Some of us have to make do with the old Gunbus.  Charlie is right.  You do feel like an Aunt Sally up there.  It is a good job that they are so solid and reliable.”

“You’ll soon get yours, Gordy.  I heard that 48 Squadron were equipped with the new Bristols yesterday.  They are the first squadron to be fitted out with them. It is only a matter of time.”

“They have that Captain Leefe Robinson don’t they? He’s the chap who got the V.C. for shooting down a Zeppelin over London.”

“Well Charlie, we have Captain Bill Harsker who should have had a V.C.”

“That’s all right, Ted.  I am happy with my M.C.”

Ted and Gordy took to arguing about the Bristol and the Gunbus. Charlie and I went to the bar for a brandy to finish off the night. “I wish I had been with you today.”

“Why is that Charlie?”

“I am keen to meet all of your family and to get to know them better. I wish we could have come with you when you went to Burscough.  Your whole family seem so interesting. I have no brothers and sisters. There is just me and mum and dad and we, well, we are just ordinary.”

“Trust me no one is more ordinary than us.”

“You can’t believe that sir.  I mean, look at what you and Alice have done.  You are both successes.”

“Lucky.”

“Then look at Bert.  He joined young and yet he is a sergeant already.  You didn’t expect that did you, sir?”

“Well if that is your yardstick you have made even greater strides.  You are a captain.”

He toasted me with his brandy.  “And I would not be but for you so, cheers, Captain Harsker.”

The mood changed the next morning when we were given our orders; it was not the mission we wanted. We were to photograph the German lines near Vimy and to ascertain the success of the creeping barrage.  They were going to halt the guns for one hour while we flew over and photographed the ridge. It would be touch and go.  Once we reached the British lines then they would cease fire and one hour later they would begin again. In theory we would have plenty of time but I knew that there could be small delays; the weather and wind could change; we could be attacked by the Hun.

Although the five newer aeroplanes took off first we waited for the Gunbuses to catch us up. All of the Gunbuses were fitted with cameras. We had to ensure the maximum photographs. The wind was still a cold wind from the east.  That, in itself, was a problem.  It would slow down the Gunbuses even more.  We would escape quicker but any Germans sent to intercept us would be able to do so easily.

We headed across the front in two lines.  The five angels were three thousand feet above the Gunbuses. I did not envy the Gunbuses.  The German anti aircraft fire and the soldiers in the trenches would be desperate to strike back at a foe. The Gunbuses were an enormous target. We would be the first to reach the ridge. . The British artillery stopped by the time we had reached the forward trenches.  I pictured Bert beavering away below the ground and the Colonel pointing proudly at us. It was good to know that, just by flying east, we were helping us get closer to victory.

The anti aircraft fire began while we were over No-Man’s Land. Jack Swan’s bus caught one and I saw him peel off with smoke coming from his engine as he headed west.  The other eight continued on.  The next to be hit was Archie Leach.  I saw holes appear in his wings and his rudder. He slowly descended.  He was an old hand and he knew that he needed to be close to the ground in case he lost power.

I had little time to observe for black dots appeared in the distance.  We had just reached the area we were to photograph and we had just forty minutes to take them and return home before the barrage began again.

We had to do our job now. I led the others east. I recognised the shape of the Albatros.  The question was, would they have one Spandau or two? The fact that they headed for the Gunbuses told me that they were desperate for us not to know the effect of the bombing. It also gave us a slim chance.  If we could hurt them first they might be discouraged. They were rapidly closing with the slow moving Gunbuses. We were still a thousand or so yards from them.  We could fire but it would be a waste of bullets and it would warn them. The double chatter from the first Albatros gave us the bad news.  They were the Albatros D.III.

Gordy’s aeroplane was hit and his gunner stopped firing.  I saw his bus jerk in the air and then he banked to head home. As the first Albatros banked, a second opened fire at Dicky Walker’s bus.  His gunner managed to hit the Albatros and smoke poured from its engine.  Even as it pulled away a third raked Dicky’s undercarriage and it too poured smoke. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Archie’s bus as it juddered from the strike of a pair of Spandau machine guns. It was like flying into a hailstorm of bullets.

Luckily we were now less than five hundred yards from the Germans. I opened fire at the Albatros which had just struck Walker’s bus. I stitched a line across the wings.  I lifted the nose and fired, almost blindly at the first Albatros which had banked around.  Perhaps I was lucky for I managed to hit the radiator and engine from above and the Albatros juddered.

I was now at the end of the line and I began to bank. I glanced in my mirror and saw that I had made the manoeuvre in the nick of time.  A Hun was just lining up on me and my sudden move threw him.  I knew that I could turn inside him.  I pulled back as hard as I could on the stick.  As I came up I saw a black cross and I squeezed the trigger.  I had no idea if I hit it for I found myself coming down towards my pursuer. He was less than fifty yards from me.  I fired again and saw my bullets miss.  He jinked to the side.  The Pup is so responsive that I was able to replicate his move and fire again.  This time I struck his rudder. He tried to dive down towards the ground. I gambled and banked starboard and then to port. He may not have had a mirror for he turned to starboard.  I imagine he had a real shock when my tiny Pup appeared on his port side.  I fired again and struck his engine. He was mine for the taking.  Then my ammunition ran out. I banked to port and, as I passed him I waved.  He saluted me.  He had been lucky.

I looked up and saw Johnny and Freddie descending to join me.  My flight had all made it.  I looked at my watch.  We had fifteen minutes to cross No-Man’s land or risk being struck by our own artillery. We had just seen our barbed wire when I heard the first of the guns as they fired. I stopped breathing.  When we passed our trenches I began to breathe again.  That had been close.

Even the new buses had been badly shot up. I saw mechanics swarming all over the damaged aeroplanes and the medical orderlies dressing the wounds. We knew we had been in a battle but I did not count any losses. That was how we measured success in 1917; small gains and no losses.

Archie was in his office his arm in a sling. It was his right arm.  He slumped into his seat, having had the cut dressed by Doc Brennan and he picked up the whisky.  He downed it in one.  We were still giving our oral reports to Randolph.  It was grim.  Dicky Walker and Gordy both had aeroplanes which needed a great deal of work.  Archie, obviously could not fly and the new aeroplanes needed repairs.

I watched as Archie tried to fill his pipe one handed.  “Here sir.” I reached over and filled it for him.

“Thanks Bill.  I forgot that you had to learn to do things one handed when you were wounded.  It is annoying.”

I handed it to him. He put it in his mouth and I struck a match.  When it was going he tamped it down and nodded. “Thanks.  Well that was a bit of a bugger.  I hope they appreciate those photographs.”

Charlie seemed quite upbeat. “We lost no aeroplanes sir and we chased them off.  I saw Bill here wing a couple and their engines smoked. They might not get up tomorrow either.”

“If I hadn’t run out of bullets I would have had that last one.”

The telephone rang.  Randolph nodded and then spoke.  He gave our report.  He listened again. “Yes sir, I’ll have the film sent over immediately.  Thank you, sir.”

“Well the good news is we don’t have to fly tomorrow. 45 Squadron is up and running and they are keen to try their new Bristols out.  They will cover the reconnaissance aeroplanes. We are stood down until the sixth. We may not be needed again until the seventh.”

Gordy slammed the desk in joy.  “That is the best news I have had in a long time.  If 45 Squadron have a good show tomorrow with the new bus then we will get ours that much quicker.  I have had enough of being a target in a Gunbus.”

Ted wagged his finger. “They might be better than the Gunbus but they still only have the one forward firing gun.  The Hun has more powerful engines.”

Charlie smiled as he poured himself another whisky, “We just have to out fly them. We have the best pilots here.  We just keep on being the best.”

Archie raised his glass, “Lads let’s celebrate the fact that we have had no losses. 41 Squadron!”

“41 squadron!”

Bates handed me a letter when I reached my quarters. “I don’t think it is from your family sir.  I don’t recognise the handwriting.”

I didn’t either. I opened it.  “It is from Lumpy Hutton.”

Bates smiled, “I liked him sir and I miss his happy, smiling face.  I hope he is coping.”

“So do I.”

19 Hind Street

Stockton on Tees

County Durham

February 1917

Captain Harsker,

I thought I would drop you a quick line to let you know how things are going.  I met your young lady again.  She is lovely and you are a lucky man, sir. I was a little down sir but she gave me some good advice and cheered me up no end. Tell the doc that he did a grand job with the amputation.  Your young lady looked at it and said it was the neatest job she had ever seen.

I met with Jack’s widow. She was in a bad way.  It wasn’t just the loss of Jack, she and the bairns hadn’t been well. There was no one to look after them.  I took a room in a lodging house nearby and I have looked after them for a while.  I am still receiving Flying Corps pay and I can help out. The collection from the lads helped out too.

I have managed to get a job as a clerk in an engineering firm in Stockton, Wrightson’s. The pay is not too grand but they were short of someone who could read and write and knew how machines worked. The boss lost a son at the Somme and when he saw my record he was keen. It’s something, sir.

This will be my address for the time being.

I am getting used to the one hand.  Of course I sometimes try to use it.  It’s daft, sir, but sometimes I could swear I still have it. It itches all the time. I can almost feel my fingers.  It’s stupid I know.

Tell the lads to take care of themselves and you too, sir. This country will need blokes like you when this is all over. I have seen that for myself. It’s sad, sir, that decent lads like Jack get killed.  Most of the blokes I have seen, since I came home, look shifty. They haven’t been to war. I don’t bother with them.  I drink with the ex-servicemen in a little pub overlooking the river. We joke that between us we have one whole body.  We are a close knit bunch.  It feels like the Sergeant’s Mess.

You take care,

I remember you, each night, in my prayers. Your young lady says that you worry about me. Don’t.  Worry about yourself.  I will be fine.

Yours,

Lumpy Hutton

I was happy that things were going well for him and that he had found friends. My worry had been that such a gregarious fellow would pine away. I should have known better. Lumpy was like the other servicemen he had found.  He was the salt of the earth. We were a tough and hardy lot in the north. Even Lady Burscough had bounced back from the edge of disaster.