1917 Eagles Fall (24 page)

I finished my brandy and poured another.  I sniffed Beattie’s letter before I opened it. By closing my eyes I could picture her in the room. As I took out the letter a lock of her hair fell from it. It felt like Christmas! I laid the lock of hair on my dresser as though it was a precious jewel.

April 1917

Dearest Bill,

I hope this letter finds you safe.  We have had so many casualties through the doors lately that I dread you being one again.

I have met your Major and he is a dear! What a lovely gentleman he is.  Even Matron is quite taken by him. He speaks so highly of you that I am even prouder of you than I was before. He can’t wait to get back but the doctors are being careful with him.  He nearly lost his arm, you know.

Lumpy also wrote to me. He seems quite happy in the North East with his new job.  He also seems to be taken with Jack Laithwaite’s widow.  He is a kind chap. It was he who suggested the lock of hair. He said it would bring you comfort in the air. He is thoughtful.  I think Mrs Laithwaite could do much worse than him.

I am not sure that either Alice or Lady Burscough will be lucky enough to find someone as easily. I know that your mother can’t understand her feelings after such a short time. (Alice told me of her words in a letter). But I can.  I fell for you so quickly that I immediately knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Alice and Charlie were both equally smitten.  It is a tragedy that they will never be together.  I am just happy that the business is going well and your sister has work to keep her mind off her loss.

Write to her, Bill! You are her hero and her big brother.  More than that you were Charlie’s friend and hero. Anything that you write will be a comfort to her.

I pray each night that you will be safe and this awful war will be over soon but in the meantime please take care of yourself.  There are many of us in England who care deeply for you. Come home safe.

Your fiancée

Beattie

xxx

I read and re read the letter five or six times.  Then I replaced the lock of hair into the envelope.  I would need to find something to keep it safe and about my person.

The mess was buzzing that night.  Our success and the ease with which the Germans had been seen off made everyone more hopeful about a successful outcome to the war. It was Ted who injected the first note of caution. “They were not the Flying Circus today.  We have given these lads a good hiding before now. We outnumbered them and we surprised them. Let’s not count our chickens.”

I nodded at the wisdom of his words but the younger pilots carried on with their high jinks as though the war was coming to an end.

Gordy had been quiet and somewhat distracted. “Something wrong Gordy?”

He gave a shy smile, “I had a letter from home today.”

“Me too.  Nothing wrong is there?”

He sipped his brandy, “Oh no, of course not, in fact just the opposite. Mary is going to have a baby! I am going to be a dad.”

I toasted him, “Well done! But why the long face?”

“What if something happens to me? Mary will be even worse off than she was before I met her.  She would be alone and have a baby to look after.”

“We have talked of this before. You can’t think that way.  You have to believe you will survive.”

“But Charlie…”

“Charlie was not flying a Bristol he was flying an out dated Gunbus! You know yourself that once you start to have doubts then you don’t fly as well.”

He nodded and finished off his brandy, “But how long before I can see him?”

“You know it will be a he?”

He laughed, “I don’t mind but I can’t call him it can I?”

“Well the baby isn’t here yet so when will the birth be?”

“Some time in August.”

“Well you never know.  You might get some leave in September or October. November is definitely a possibility.  The first month or so they are asleep most of the time.  By the time you get to see him he will be able to appreciate his hero dad!”

“Hero?”

I waved a hand around the mess. “If the men in this room aren’t heroes then I don’t know what a hero is.”

As Bates helped me to dress in the hour before dawn I wondered about Gordy.  I hoped that he would not lose concentration and focus.  I knew that I forced Beattie from my mind once I was in the air. One lapse of concentration when you were in a dogfight could easily result in your death. Thinking of Beattie I remembered the hair.

“John, Miss Porter has sent me a lock of hair. Can you think of anything that I could use to keep it close to me?”

He scratched his head, “Your pocket watch, sir.”

“Of course.” I took it from my pocket and opened it. I took out the lock of hair and placed it within. It seemed to fit but it was hardly secure. “I am worried that it might fall out.”

He shook his head, “You leave that with me sir.  I will see one of the riggers.  I am certain we could fashion something out of thin wire to hold it in place. It will be ready when you return home tonight.”

“Thank you, John, I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“You don’t have to sir and it is my pleasure to serve you.  Let’s get you finished.” He fastened my Sam Brown around my waist and handed me the Webley service revolver. “There it is nicely polished up now, sir.  I have cleaned the Webley, and reloaded it.” He handed me the Luger.  “I cleaned the Luger too. However, you only have twenty rounds left for that one sir.”

As usual I tucked it into the top of my flying boot.  I had grown used to it and it was easy to reach when I was flying. “I should have asked the infantry for some when we visited them.  Remind me to get some.”

“I will do, sir.”

I strode out to the Pup. Hopefully this would be a milk run, the same as yesterday. When we had last been in the area around Lagnicourt it had been quiet. We would be flying barely five miles away from there. The squadron was all ready and we headed east for the rendezvous. 

We reached the coordinates and I flew the squadron in a box pattern until the bombers arrived. The Strutters were late. It shouldn’t have bothered me but it did. I was always early to any meeting.  The sun was up by the time they reached us. Their commander waved to us and I acknowledged it. I led my squadron high above them as they headed for the cluster of villages the Second Division and the Australians were trying to capture. We would be the eagles hunting in the sky.  They could operate safely beneath our canopy of guns.

The Strutters were much lower and I left the decision of the actual target to them.  I could see, even from five thousand feet, where the front line was.  Their bombs could be dropped with pin point accuracy to destroy gun emplacements without risk to the advancing troops.

I stared intently towards the east. Sometimes you imagined that you saw something and you have to look away and then look back. I did that. The twelve crosses rapidly heading our way told me that the Germans had been alerted to our presence. I waggled my wings to let the others know that the Hun was in the sun but I knew that their sharp eyes would have picked out the enemy as quickly as I had. I began to climb.  You could never have too much height when fighting the faster Albatros fighter. We outnumbered them but that meant nothing. We had an advantage of one! Realistically that was not an advantage unless the German pilots were novices like most of our squadron. As we drew closer I saw, to my horror, that they were brightly painted.  It was the Flying Circus.

I heard the bombs and the explosions as the Strutters dropped them and they struck the ground. I watched as three Albatros fighters detached themselves from the main formation and headed for the six Strutters.  I waved to Lieutenant Alldardyce to support the Strutters. I hoped that seven to three might be odds on our favour. The Strutters had the same engine as the Pup and Alldardyce had the redoubtable Speight with his Lewis. They had a chance.

Having gained the height I now used it and I dived towards the red Albatros which was leading the Jasta.  It was all red; it was the Red Baron himself. Knowing that it was the leading German ace made me concentrate even more. I now had no wingman and I would need to look after myself. He had shot down many of our aces already.  What made me think I could hurt him? He opened fire first and his double column of bullets tore into my Pup.  I felt it judder as they hit my engine and propeller. I feinted to starboard with a flick of the stick and, as he began to turn to match me, I gave him a short burst with the Vickers. Miraculously I managed to hit him. I banked inside him and fired again.  I hit his wing and saw one of the struts as it cracked into two. He started to climb. He was no fool.  He had structural damage to his aeroplane and it was a superior aeroplane to the Pup. The Albatros could out climb the Sopwith.  I fired a longer burst and hit his tail.  I saw that he was leading me east. That was not a direction I wished to take. I was about to turn and I checked my mirror. I saw that I had two more brightly painted Albatros fighters on my tail.  If I turned then I was dead. One or the other would have a clear shot and they were so close that they could not miss.

I decide to wiggle and wriggle my way out of the trap and then head west as soon as I could manage it. I put the nose down to try to throw them.  The agile little Pup lost one of them but the second gave me a long burst and I felt the bullets hit my rudder. At the same time I saw oil and smoke coming from the engine.  The Red Baron’s first bullets must have caused some damage to the engine although it had not lost any power. This was serious and potentially fatal.  What was happening inside my engine? The oil was a worry for I did not want the engine to seize up. As I watched I saw that it was just a trickle but, even as I watched, more began to run down the side of the engine. Oil was the life blood of the engine and it was there for a purpose.  My Pup was dying.

I banked to starboard to take me back over our lines.  West was my only salvation. I had no idea how far to the east I had been drawn and dragged. I flew directly into the other Albatros, the one I thought I had lost.  Its steel jacketed bullets thudded and smashed into my already damaged engine and this time I did feel the loss of power as it was struck a mortal blow.

I would have to get down and try to land my stricken Pup. If the engine seized in mid air it could be a disaster. The dying Pup helped me by gradually losing power so that I began to glide to earth. In my rear view mirror I saw two Bristols as they opened fire on my pursuers.  The rain of lead stopped as they turned to deal with their attackers.  I could see a field ahead.  There were now flames coming from the engine. Suddenly the propeller stopped and the nose dipped alarmingly. I pulled back on the stick and managed to lift the nose a fraction.  It saved my life.  Had I not done so then the nose would have hit the ground first. The wheels hit first; it was a heavy hit.  They rolled for a few yards.  They hit something in the field and, as I bumped up and down again, they broke and the bus slewed and spun around.  The front of the Pup was now a raging blaze and I could feel the wall of heat getting closer as the wind fanned the flames.  A spark hit the starboard wing and that caught fire too. I undid my seat belt and, even as we slewed around like a spinning top I threw myself from the cockpit. As I hit the ground flat I winded myself but the fact that I was lying prone on the ground saved my life as the Pup exploded.

When the smoke had cleared I stood.  I saw Lieutenant Alldardyce’s Bristol as he came east towards the pyre to see if I had survived.  I waved to Speight who waved back.  Then an Albatros zoomed down and fired at him. Speight fired at the German and Lieutenant Alldardyce turned the Bristol around and headed west. I was behind enemy lines again but this time there was no Lumpy to help me. At least this time, if my wingman reached base, they would know that I had survived the crash; that would be something. There might not be a telegram to Burscough.

My country upbringing came to my aid. I knew how to hide in farmland and woods. I had spent hours as a child playing hide and seek in such places. I ran from the burning aeroplane and headed for the west side of the field. I was less than twenty miles from a very fluid front.  The trenches were still being established.  I had my best chance to slip across to the British lines.

I heard a shout from behind me.  There were German infantry flooding into the field. I threw myself through the hedge. Brambles and hawthorn tugged at my leather coat but I made it. I was glad I had left my goggles and helmet on my head; they saved my eyes and face from too much damage. I emerged in a lane which ran north to south.  I remembered crossing it in the Pup. I saw a gate and ran towards it.  I hurtled across the field; I kept heading west.

I heard the crack of a rifle as I reached half way and saw the Germans aiming their rifles at me. I headed towards the gate in the field.  This time I hurled myself over it and turned left to run towards a large and semi-derelict barn. I threw myself through the entrance and rolled behind an old rotting stack of hay. I lay there panting and trying to catch my breath. I could see, through a crack in the decaying wooden walls, the Germans as they entered the field.  They did not turn left as I had but ran west following my original course.

I decided that I would wait until the hue and cry had died down before I left my sanctuary. I realised just how thirsty I was. I glanced around but there was no water to be seen.  The barn itself had another exit behind me.  It had had a gate once but it was no longer there.  Beyond it I saw that the land began to descend to the first road I had crossed.  That would be my escape route.

I heard voices and I froze as the Germans returned across the field. They had shouldered their arms and I hoped that they had given up. Then I saw a non commissioned officer point towards the barn and four soldiers unslung their weapons and walked towards me. I slid down behind the hay and drew my Webley. I wondered if I could surprise them. I lifted my head a little and saw that the other soldiers had left the field.  I had four Germans to dispose of and then I could head through the other door. I covered myself with the rotting and smelly hay and moved back into the shelter of a broken cow byre.

I made myself as small as I possibly could.  I heard them shout something in German. Then they began to talk. Suddenly a long vicious bayonet stabbed through the hay. It missed my head and my eye by inches only.

I heard more German spoken and this time the voices began to recede as the searchers left. I lay there until all was silent. I didn’t realise, until I tried to stand, that I had hurt myself when I had been thrown to the ground. I was stiff. I put my Webley back in my holster. I did not want to trip and fire accidentally.  I decided to head out of the other door. I moved towards it, peering down, across the field, to the road.  It appeared to be silent. I had no watch but I thought it was late afternoon. As I was about to step out I heard the sound of a vehicle and I ducked back inside the barn and pressed my back against the wooden wall.

The engine drew closer and then stopped. After a few moments it began to move again and I breathed a sigh of relief.  I waited until I had counted five hundred in my head. Then I left the security of the barn and moved down the field to the gate which stood between two imposing walls which were the height of me. I suspected the farmhouse would be further down and was attached to the wall.  I glanced left and saw, a hundred yards away, the burnt out shell of the farmhouse.  That proved that there were no people close by. With the Germans gone I had the chance to head west. As I neared the gate I worked out that I would probably reach the German lines at dark and that would be my best chance to escape.

On reaching the gate I waited and listened. I saw that the gate was secured by a piece of rope.  I unloosed it from the post but did not open the gate.  I listened. The road, which appeared to be narrow, was, once more, silent. I slowly opened the gate and eased myself through it. I glanced to my right and the road was empty. I turned my head to the left and found myself looking down the barrel of a German rifle.

The German officer standing behind the soldier said something in German.  I did not understand what he said and I heard the bolt on the rifle click ominously. The officer gestured with his Luger and I raised my hands.  He smiled and said something which sounded like ‘Good.’ He took my Webley and pointed up the road, to the left. There was the vehicle I had heard and there were six German soldiers standing nearby with their rifles pointed at me.

As I trudged up the road I visualised the prospect of spending the rest of the war in a prisoner of war camp. I smiled to myself.  At least I could keep my promise to Beattie and survive the war.