1918 We will remember them (20 page)

I saw an Albatros a hundred yards away.  I would need to return home soon anyway and I tried a hopeful burst. I hit his tail and his wing and then my guns clicked empty. That was one lucky German pilot.  I turned and headed west. I saw the rest of the squadron; they were to the north. My flight was spread all over the sky and was heading west. I counted five of them.  I saw that David Dundas’ engine was smoking. I headed in his direction to keep an eye on him.  As we flew over Amiens it was as though someone had kicked open an ant’s nest.  Brown uniforms were scurrying around but I could see purpose there.  They were shoring up the defences and preparing to make it expensive for the Hun to take it. Although Lieutenant Dundas dropped lower and lower he made the field at Abbeville and landed safely.  I was relieved.

The mechanics were around his bus as I taxied. By the time I reached him, Flight Sergeant Lowery was wiping the oil off his hands. “This one won’t fly tomorrow sir, sorry.”

“Do your best, Flight.” Dundas looked crestfallen, “Don’t worry David, you’ll be up the day after.  Did you get any today?”

“I finished off two sir, does that count as two halves for one kill?”

I patted him on the back. “No, young man! If you finish them they are your kills. Congratulations, they are yours.”

“But sir you hit both of them first!”

“And I didn’t finish them off.  They are yours.  Well done!”

He raced off to join his fellows and tell them his news.  I had never subscribed to this numbers game the press liked to play. It didn’t matter to me who shot down Fritz; just so long as someone did.

It had been a long day. The tent Randolph used was not like the office at our old field but he had the whisky ready for me as I strode over. I gave him the figures and he nodded. “We did well today; I say we and I mean this squadron. As an army it has been a disaster. Still the plans they put in place have saved many men but I just wonder if this is the beginning of the end.”

I puffed on the pipe I had just lit, “That is a little pessimistic Randolph. You sound like Ted.”

“I guess it is because I get information from my chum at Headquarters and I see the bigger picture.”

I shook my head.  “My dad told me about a story he had heard when he served in the cavalry.  It was in the Zulu wars and the Zulus had just slaughtered a whole British army.  There was a little outpost with a hundred soldiers and twenty wounded and they held out and defeated four thousand Zulus.  It was at a place called Rorke’s Drift. Those Welshmen knew that their army had been beaten and yet they still hung on. That is why no one has conquered Britain in almost a thousand years.  We never know when we are beaten and the British Tommy has more steel in him than the Forth Bridge. The redoubts we passed were still hanging on despite the Hun using their best soldiers. Wait until we are crossing the Channel before you give up.”

He laughed, “I think I should take up flying, Bill.  It seems to inspire you pilots. I’ll take you at your word.  Here’s to Rorke’s Drift!”

“Rorke’s Drift!”

We were laughing when Archie and the others came in. “Well I am pleased that someone is happy!”

Randolph poured a whisky for the others and said, “It was just Bill here giving me a history lesson and telling me that we will hold on here.”

Ted shook his head, “I think you need a new bloody crystal ball, my old son.  All I saw today was a beaten British army.”

Archie shook his head, “Bill is right.  We are not beaten but we are retreating.” He waved his hand around the room. “We didn’t lose a single bus today.” He threw his report down, “And how many Hun did we claim?”

Randolph quickly scanned the lists. “It looks like twenty.”

“There you are Ted.  Can you think of another day where we shot down twenty Germans and didn’t lose any?”

“Well no but what about the lads on the ground?”

“They will dig in and gradually we will regain the ground we have lost.”

However things got worse before they got better. By the end of the next day the front line was a mile or two from Amiens. As we climbed to our patrolling altitude I knew that we would not have it as easy again. They were making Amiens a fortress. We saw the Germans as they headed for our front lines. The two seaters which would bomb and strafe were protected by twenty triplanes.  We would have to work to clear the skies.

We did not have the luxury of time and I led my flight directly towards the Fokkers. Archie would make the decision about the two seaters.  If I was leading the squadron then I would detach one flight to destroy them. The Germans had good two seaters but they were no match for the incomparable Camel.

It was not the Circus we were attacking but it would not do to be over confident. I looked in my mirror and saw the four Camels were stacked one above the other so that Jack, at the rear, was fifty feet higher than I was. I knew that Freddie was to my right and we would, perforce divide the enemy fire.  We needed to exploit that advantage quickly. I held my fire even when the triplane fired at me. I just dipped my nose so that his bullets ripped into my top wing and when I brought my guns up he was just fifty yards away and I was able to give him a short burst before he was forced to pull up and avoid a collision.  Wally was able to give him a long burst and he continued a smoking loop away to the east.

I banked slightly to the left and came up along the side of the third Fokker in the second line. I fired a hopeful burst at a hundred yards but only hit his fuselage. He turned to bring his guns to bear and I fired before he had aligned his guns.  Wally’s guns chattered out too and the combined cone of fire hit his engine. As he tried to climb Lieutenant Stuart finished him off with a longer burst.

We had two Fokkers isolated on the right side of their line and they turned to face my five aeroplanes. In my mirror I saw Jack Fall hit by the fire of two Fokkers and he dived his damaged bus towards the ground with the two triplane in hot pursuit. The Camel had a better dive than the triplane and I hoped he could outrun them.

Wally and I fired almost together and I saw the German pilot slump in his seat. Stuart and Fielding concentrated their fire on the last Fokker.  I banked around to go to the aid of Jack Fall. I saw the tracer from the Fokkers as they tried to hit the elusive Camel. I fired at over three hundred yards. I had virtually no chance of hitting them but I wanted them to look in their mirrors and see two Camels coming after them spitting bullets. As we closed with them our bullets started to strike them and they banked away and headed east. Wally and I shepherded Jack safely back to the field.

Once again we had a damaged bird that would not fly the next day but there was worse news to come. When Freddie landed he had two Camels missing. It was Tom Carpenter and Harry Duffy.  Both were experienced pilots it would be hard to replace. Joe Dodds and Brian Hargreaves had also been shot down.  We had lost four of the most experienced pilots we had. Although we had downed more than ten aeroplanes it was a heavy cost to bear.

When Randolph told us that the Fifth Army was in full retreat and we should be prepared to leave our new airfield there was a mood of doom and gloom about the place.  We knew that we could do no more and yet we were losing and we were losing badly. The Germans were within a hand span of taking Amiens. We also discovered that we were an isolated pocket of success.  The Circus and the other Jasta had destroyed vast numbers of the DH 4 and SE 5 squadrons. The triplane ruled the whole of the front apart from our sector. It was worrying.

We heard, during the night, the lorries taking reinforcements to Amiens.  We knew that more were arriving by train as the Generals tried to shore up the line. When we had flown back across the battlefield we had seen the wrecked tanks and artillery pieces.  We had lost a great deal of supplies as well as men. Amazingly our old field was still intact.  The machine gun company still defended it although their guns were now traversed to the east and not the skies. It seemed unlikely to us that we would ever return there.

Freddie and his flight flew with me when we took off the next morning.  Archie led the other two flights. We had decided that Freddie and I would take on the triplanes while the rest destroyed the two seaters. We had had no plan the previous day and our pilots had paid the price. Freddie and his depleted flight were tucked in behind Lieutenant Dundas who had to replace Jack Fall. As we headed towards Amiens I took heart from the fact that there appeared to be more order.  The streams of soldiers heading west had now halted and I saw columns of Australians and Americans heading east to plug the gaps.

I climbed to just below the cloud cover. This time I knew that Archie and his ten Camels would be strafing the enemy infantry or attacking their two seaters.  We would not have to climb to find the enemy. The artillery was silent.  Perhaps the Germans were afraid of hitting their own rapidly advancing storm troopers or perhaps they had expended too many shells already. Randolph said that someone at HQ had calculated that more than a million shells had been dropped in the five hour bombardment. I could understand it.

We had reached the front quicker than the Germans and the thirty odd two seaters were snaking their way west at a low altitude. I peered above them and saw the fourteen triplanes. They were higher than the two seaters but lower than us. They were flying in three lines.  The first two each had five Fokkers and the last had four.  I waggled my wings and we dived.

It was an incredible feeling to be diving at over one hundred and twenty miles an hour.  The air speed indicator was useless at high speeds but I could feel the power of my Camel as the wind rushed past my face. This was when a pilot needed lighting reactions.

We had been seen and the Germans began to climb.  The Fokker Dr I could out climb anything in the air but we had the edge in terms of position.  Stacked as we were and approaching at a combine speed of over two hundred miles an hour Wally and I would only have seconds in which to fire. I waited until we were eighty yards apart and pulled my triggers. Wally followed a second later.  The German bullets struck the underside of my engine and the four Vickers tore through the propeller and the engine of the triplane which peeled away to twist and turn towards the earth. I saw oil dripping from my engine. He had damaged me.

The second Fokker approached and, this time, I fired first. It must have been the worry over my engine. Between us Wally and I managed to hit his engine and his guns.  There was no fire in return. I banked to starboard after I had fired, my engine felt rough already.  It meant we approached the last four obliquely from the side and we had a free shot at the Fokkers.  With a stack of eight Camels descending through them the last four Fokkers stood no chance. I could not stay in the air much longer and I signalled to Wally that I was heading home. The oil was now pouring from the engine and I needed to get down before it seized.

I saw our old field before me and I headed for it. Our new field was too far away.  I could not last much longer in the air. The machine gun company had actually repaired a couple of the bomb craters and I managed to bring the smoking Camel down. They raced over. I struggled to clamber out of the bus.  My leg was giving me shooting pains.

“Are you all right, sir?” Despite the engine propeller not turning there was still smoke as the oil dripped over the hot engine.

“Yes sergeant; just my gammy knee.  Any chance of a brew while I fix this?”

“Yes sir.” He gave me a worried look, “Sir, you can fix this?”

I laughed, “I began life as a sergeant gunner.  I can give it my best shot.”

The workshops were a mess but not everything had been taken. I found some hose and some oil. I had some spanners in my Camel.  By the time I was back at the Camel the sergeant had my tea ready.  “There you are, sir.”

“Thanks Sarn’t.” The hot sweet tea was so strong you could have stood a spoon in it but it was welcome. “How are things going?”

“It’s been quiet since you left sir. They came over the day after you left but when they saw it was deserted and we discouraged them a bit they left us alone.”

I nodded.  There was less damage than I might have expected. Half of the buildings were intact and it was just the pot holed airfield and craters which were the problem.

I took off the engine cover and saw that the German’s bullets had severed an oil hose in two places. I removed the clip and replaced the hose. I took off the filler cap and, using a funnel, refilled the sump. The engine was too hot to take off and I went to the workshop and found a half full can of fuel.  I returned and topped up the Camel’s tank. I heard the roar of engines and looked up.  Gordy and his flight were flying above.  I waved to show that I was safe.  Had I still had the radio I could have told Randolph but the receiver was still in the burnt out wreck of my old Camel close to Cambrai.

I handed the cup back to the Sergeant. “Are we winning sir?”

“Not yet but we have stopped losing.” He laughed. I waved my arm across the field.  “Keep your eye on it for us.  We’ll be back!”

I started the engine, with a little help from a private and then gingerly took the Camel to the end of the field. The test of my repair would be when I lifted the nose at the end of the field.  Thankfully I had done a good job and I waggled my wings to show the machine gun company that all was well. I was happy to see the temporary airfield.  I would let Flight Sergeant Lowery make a proper repair.

There was a happier air that night.  We had not lost any Camels and Archie and his flights had decimated the bombers. Randolph spoke with Headquarters and announced that we had not lost any more territory that day.  As we toasted our success I said, “We could go back to our old field you know.”

Archie shook his head, “Too risky.”

“I don’t think so. When I spoke with the sergeant he said that Fritz had not bothered with it since the day before the offensive started. Conditions are better there and the field would not take much to repair it.  We would have longer in the air and it is still behind our lines. The Germans are a good five miles away.”

“Yes but if they push…”

“Then we get back here.” I saw that Gordy and the others agreed with me but Archie was not convinced.

Randolph, like us wanted to be home, “I’ll tell you what, sir.  How about I ring Headquarters and see what they say?”

We left Randolph and went to eat. The cooks were doing their best but the field kitchen we had meant that it was largely bully beef and mash that we were eating.  We were used to better.

Randolph arrived and frowned at the sludgy mess that was his dinner, “Headquarters says that if we can repair the field we can go back.” He nodded to me. “You must have a crystal ball, Bill, Headquarters says that the German advance has been halted.  The Yanks and the Aussies have made a difference.”

“Good,” said Ted, “because I am fed up of being a happy camper!”

Gordy laughed, “You have never been a happy camper.”

The next day as we went to discourage the German fighters we saw a line of lorries as our mechanics and riggers returned to our old field to repair it. They were as keen to return as anyone. They hated the idea of running.

That morning we met the same squadron we had been fighting for the last few days. This time they had no reconnaissance aeroplanes and when they were faced by eighteen Camels they turned tail and headed home. We outnumbered them and we had the upper hand.  War in the air was often won or lost in the mind. As we flew back we saw that the old airfield was already in better shape.  Our men had filled in most of the shell holes and bomb craters.

They arrived back, weary but happy in time for the evening meal. Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery looked dirty and dishevelled but he had a smile on his face.  “Major Harsker was right sir. It didn’t take much to repair it. We could go back tomorrow if you wanted.”

Archie looked at us and nodded, “Well done, Flight. You and the others can leave tomorrow morning after we have taken off.  We will return to our old field.”

We had been lulled by the flight of the Fokkers the previous day.  When we reached the front line we saw, high in the sky, freshly painted Fokkers. There looked to be two squadrons of them and we were well outnumbered. Archie signalled for us to climb and assume a defensive position. It was a sensible move for it drew the triplane to us and the Germans would have to leave quicker than we would.

We spiralled to a higher altitude as the Fokkers made their purposeful way towards us. They came in lines of five abreast.  It meant we had two lines of five and then three more lines of five. We would have a gauntlet of steel to face. We just had three columns of Camels.  I led eight while Archie and the others were in two columns of five. As we reached the right height I positioned my flight in the centre of the line. We headed to meet the Fokkers.

I checked in my mirror and Wally was in place. As we approached the triplanes I felt anxious.  I still do not know why but something did not feel right.  I held my fire. Suddenly at a distance of less than a hundred yards the two Fokkers before me peeled to port and starboard and I had no target. The next five Fokkers came directly for me. I felt the bullets from the first two Fokkers as they raked both sides of my fuselage. How they failed to hit me I will never know.  Perhaps I was moving too quickly and they had not turned enough however they managed to hit Wally and I saw him falling from the sky. And then I was hit by the bullets from the second wave of triplanes.  I fired my own Vickers but I had no supporting fire from behind me.  Lieutenant Dundas and Lieutenant Field were fending off the attack of the first two Fokkers. More bullets struck my engine and my propeller.  The pitch of the propeller changed.  It had been damaged.

I had had enough of this.  I banked sharply to starboard. I needed to get down but first I had to clear a path.  My sudden move took the German ahead by surprise and his bullets sailed above me. I saw a triplane less than fifty feet ahead of me and he was broadside on. I gave him a long burst.  I hit his fuselage and then his cockpit. I saw his body shaking as though he had St Vitus’ dance and then his bus fell to earth.  There was clear air before me.  My Camel was struggling.  I did not want to lose my propeller and I descended as quickly as I could.  I found myself amongst the triplanes.  I fired whenever I saw one and I felt the bullets as they hit my wings and my fuselage.  I was taking too much punishment.

I saw our old field ahead. The machine gun company were lining their guns up.  I wondered why until I looked in the mirror.  Two Fokkers were diving towards me. This would not be a graceful landing.  I just needed to get down. I hit the ground hard but I heard the Vickers as they sent a wall of death towards the Fokkers. One was hit immediately and plunged to earth, making another crater.  The second rose and I thought the pilot had escaped but, when it continued its loop I knew that the pilot was dead. It exploded in the next field. As I clambered from my Camel I saw the lorries with the ground crews beginning to arrive. When the propeller juddered to a stop I saw that it had lost the tip on one side and there were holes in the blade.  I had been lucky.

I turned to watch the fight in the air. The Camels and the Fokkers were twisting and turning. It looked like we might lose when the Fokkers headed east and home. Their Achilles heel was their endurance and it had saved us once again. As the Camels landed I saw much damage to our precious aeroplanes. I also saw that Phil Lowe had not made it either. With Wally gone we had lost two pilots and there were at least five badly damaged buses.

Just then I saw Wally as he sauntered into the field. He waved cheerily. “I thought you were a goner there old son.”

“So did I but the wrecked Camel is just two fields away. It is a write off I am afraid.”

“But you are alive! The bus we can replace!”

Archie walked over to me. “You have had a hard two days Bill.  Your last little manoeuvre saved your lads. You upset Fritz.”

“I told you, they learn all time.  We made the mistake of repeating ourselves and you can’t do that.”

As we headed towards the office he nodded, “Well at least we are home.”

As we neared the office I stopped Archie and pointed.  There was a freshly painted sign.  It said. ‘
Doyle Airfield
.’ Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery was nearby and he shrugged. “He was responsible for most of the camp anyway. He scrounged what the engineers couldn’t build. The lads thought it was a nice way to remember him.”

He was right.  We had yet to mourn our dead comrades.  Things had been too hectic but this would be a good memorial and a sobering reminder of how close were the margins between life and death.