1918 We will remember them (25 page)

In a small voice Jamie said, “Thank you sir.  I owe you more than I can say.”

I looked to Archie as I said, “Well you had better get to bed lieutenant we are flying tomorrow.”

“Yes sir.” He faced Archie, “Sorry sir I…”

Archie waved an irritated hand, “Oh get to bed you wee silly man!”

After he had gone Archie said, “He came within a whisker of being put on a fizzer! What an idiot!”

Freddie shook his head, “Sir, he is young and life has not been kind to him.”

“You make the best of what you have. Look at Johnny there.  He lost an eye and he doesn’t let it upset him.”

I knew what Archie meant but it was like comparing apples with oranges. I was sure that if Jamie had suffered an injury like Johnny then he too would have dealt with it.  This was different for someone he loved was being hurt and he could do nothing about it.

On the eighteenth we prepared to take on the Germans east of Amiens.  We knew from our recent visits to Amiens that the Tommie’s tails were up and confidence was high. Had it not been for Jamie Fox then ours, too, would have been high.  As it was we went about work efficiently rather than enthusiastically.

With a full squadron we flew toward Albert.  The tanks were eating up No Man’s Land and the lines of soldiers were marching purposefully behind them.  We flew in four lines abreast machine gunning the area just in front of the tanks. I kept glancing to the east and I saw the twelve Fokker D.VII’s as they dived towards us. I began to climb, knowing that my flight would follow me. I knew that I would have to be careful with my guns as I had probably expended half of it already.

The Fokker fired early and I felt his bullets as they hit my struts. I had to hold my fire a little longer and so I used my old trick of dipping my nose and then bringing it up sharply.  It seemed to work as the Fokkers Spandaus sent their bullets below me. I saw him begin to turn to his left.  I mirrored him with a turn to starboard.  As soon as I saw the German cross in the fuselage I fired.  The nippy little Camel turned quicker than the Fokker and my bullets stitched a line towards his cockpit. I saw him clutch his arm and swing to port. I fired again and hit his tail. My guns were empty and I too turned to head home.

As I levelled out I felt bullets strike my tail.  I looked in my mirror and saw that I had a German behind me.  I had no wingman and no ammunition. The Fokker was faster than I was.  I pulled back hard on the stick and looped. I gave the Camel all the power that I had.  The Fokker tried to copy my turn but he was bigger and heavier. I turned inside him. I reached into my greatcoat and took out my Luger. As he looped above me I held up the gun and emptied the magazine.  I must have hit something for, in my mirror, as I zoomed beneath the slower Hun, I saw him wobble and it took him some time to right himself.  I had bought myself some time and I headed to ground level as quickly as I could. When he levelled out, the German headed east.  I daresay his mess would be surprised when he told them of my actions.  Perhaps they would wonder why a British pilot was firing 9mm bullets at him.

Once we had captured Albert our job became easier.  We just had to fly patrols above the Allied soldiers who were consolidating their gains. We made sure that the German reconnaissance aeroplanes kept their distance and that they did not attempt to retake the trenches.  We had learned the lessons of Cambrai.

I walked into the mess on the twenty third of August holding a telegram. Lieutenant Fox was chain smoking. “Your wife is safe, Lieutenant Fox.  Lady Burscough and my wife have taken her to my parents’ home.  She will be looked after.”

Even before he spoke I saw the gratitude in his eyes.  His fellow pilots looked relieved.  It must have been like sitting with a ticking time bomb. Before he could speak I said harshly “I have done what I promised now stop feeling sorry for yourself and start to do your job.”

He stiffened to attention and said, with a smile on his face, “Yes sir!”

The French began their own advance in the south and soon, they too, along with the Americans were driving the Germans back to the Hindenburg line. Their Spring Offensive had backfired. They had lost all the ground they had gained and far more troops than we had.  Their army was bleeding to death and there was no one to staunch the wound.

We, too, were suffering.  Two flights a day took it out of the pilots and the Camels.  Even the new pilots were exhausted whilst those who had not had a leave since February looked like walking skeletons. There were many petty arguments and we were in great danger of losing our esprit de corps.

Archie called his flight commanders into his office on the evening of the twenty fourth of August. “Look laddies, we have to go up again tomorrow.  Arras this time.  We need to lift the men’s spirits.  Any ideas?”

“Sir, when we stand down again how about a party. If we tell the chaps now it will give them something to look forward to.”

“Good idea, Freddie.”

“I will get Bates to go into Amiens and get some decent wine and some cheese.  Make it special.”

“That’s the spirit Bill.  I have seen this before.  The lads are like a piece of steel it is tough but one more bit of pressure and it could snap. I thought that when the Fox thing was sorted out that everything would be hunky dory but I was wrong.”

Randolph tapped out his pipe on the ashtray.  “They are exhausted sir and exhausted men bite too easily.  Perhaps if we were less snappy in the mess…”

Archie glared at Randolph, “Do you mean me, Captain?”

No one said a word but we all remembered the way he had dealt with Lieutenant Fox. Archie was a good man at heart and I saw him gradually subside as he realised that what we were saying was true. “Aye it might be true.  I wonder if the fact that this war seems to be drawing to a close is making me demob happy. You might be right. Aye well, I shall be a happy chappie in the mess from now on.  I might even wear my kilt!”

Ted shook his head, “No need to go so far sir.  A smile will do! I am not certain I could cope with your bare legs!”

As we moved east to clear the skies of the Germans again we noticed the heavy ordnance being moved forward. There was purpose on the ground below us.  We had been briefed to press as far to the east as our fuel would safely take us.  It was a provocative move intended to make the Germans come from their fields to attack us. What we had seen was the lack of ground fire. Perhaps Intelligence was right and the Germans were not just running out of fuel but also ammunition.  We all began to believe that there was a chance that this war might be over by 1919. I might see my child before he started walking.

German fighters were summoned when we neared Cambrai. We saw stiffened defences around this town which guarded the approaches to the railway which was so vital to the Germans. We had no doubt that it had been repaired since our raid.  The proximity of the aeroplanes and the guns which ringed the town were testament to that.

Having flown so far we only had a short time over the town and so we were profligate with our bullets.  We could afford to fire at range.  We had the luxury of plentiful fuel; the Germans did not. We still had yet to see vast numbers of the new German aeroplanes and we faced the usual eclectic mix of fighters.  I fired at a hundred yards range and I flew directly at the Albatros I chose to attack. He was conserving his bullets and he held his fire until he was much closer.  Wally’s bullets poured into him before he had fired a couple of rounds.  He peeled off with a smoking engine. I banked to starboard and gave a long burst at the old Fokker D.II.  The .303 tore through his struts and into the fuselage. Something must have been damaged for it began to fall to earth as the pilot struggled to control it.

We were not getting all our own way however and I saw Lieutenant Garrington tumble to the ground.  It looked like he would land but he would be a prisoner. I emptied my guns at the last Albatros in the line and he took flight east. He must have realised that there were ten other Vickers machine guns coming his way.

After two more days of such fighting the ground forces were almost at the Hindenburg line and we had time for a party as we were stood down. The Germans were reeling from attacks which had begun at the start of August.  Now as August drew to a close we had regained all the land we had lost in the Spring Offensive and more.  More importantly we had barely lost either men on the ground or aeroplanes in the air. Every day, as we returned to our field we saw lines of prisoners being led west.

The mess sergeants enjoyed organising the food for the party.  It was something different and they knew that there would always be a surplus for them.  As Bates laid out my dress uniform he commented, “This was a good idea, Major. I had noticed many of the young gentlemen having a hangdog look of late.  This will reinvigorate them.”

Bates was the most wonderful observer of human behaviour.  He was like the squadron barometer and I had learned to listen to him whenever possible.

He coughed discreetly and asked, “Has Lieutenant Fox’s dilemma been solved, sir?”

“Dilemma?” I cocked an eyebrow.

Bates looked a little embarrassed, “Sir, it is no secret that he married and his young lady was taken away from him.  Everyone saw the change in him.  Why I even heard that he and Lieutenant Fall had an exchange of views.”

I smiled at the euphemism, “Yes Bates, the dilemma has been temporarily solved.” I knew that he would receive a letter from my mother soon and then the cat would truly be out of the bag. “If you must know Lieutenant Fox’s wife is staying at the cottage in Burscough with my wife and mother so you can put your mind to rest.  She will be well looked after.”

He beamed, “Oh sir, you are like Solomon. You can solve the most difficult of problems!”

I shook my head and left for the party. I was not in the mood for a party and I stayed on the sidelines so to speak and observed them all.  Part of it was sadness.  The last party we had held had been some time ago and Charlie had still been alive.  He had been the life and soul of the party entertaining all with his ribald music hall songs.  I had even sung one myself when testing the radio with Sergeant Kenny.  Would I have the spectre of Charlie’s memory hanging over me each time we had a party? Would it spoil the chance of silly fun in the future? As the young officers, some of whom I did not know yet, horsed around I saw the other pilots whom I had flown with; the ones who would fly no more.  They had been full of life and they had partied like there was no tomorrow; for many there had been no tomorrow. I sipped my whisky, smoked my pipe and I remembered them.

I did not notice Archie sidle up to me. “What’s the matter Bill?  You were all for this and it is a great success.”

“Just thinking of Charlie and the ones who are dead sir.”

He nodded and began to fill his pipe.  “I have been in uniform since before the South African wars.  Not always in the Corps you understand but I was like you once.  I had young friends who died.  Then when I became a more senior officer I led those men and ordered many to their deaths.  I know what is going through your mind. You have to resolve to get through it and honour them in peacetime by being better than you were when you came into the war.  You will have to live your life for your dead comrades who cannot.  It is a great burden and a great responsibility.”

He lit his pipe and I sipped my whisky, “But worth it.”

“Oh yes, Bill, worth it.” He tapped his head, “Every friend and officer I left live in here with me.  I use them to judge my actions.”

“Thank you, sir.  I have a clear mind now.”

“And you shall need it, Bill. Tomorrow we begin to push Fritz back to Germany and I do not think he will go quietly. Keep your young pilots on their toes for they will need to be sharper tomorrow than in the weeks leading up to this.”

The orders were clear.  We were to clear the skies around Cambrai. As we headed east and north we saw the columns of brown heading to the support trenches and the supplies being laid in for the next assault.  It seemed to me we were playing leapfrog. One Corps attacked and held while another prepared for the next assault. It was wearing the Germans down.

Flying high I realised that this was the fifth September of the war.  I had been barely more than a boy when I had ridden across Flanders on the back of my mount, Caesar. What a change had been wrought. I wondered how many remained of the ones who had gone to war in September 1914 so full of hope.  It terrified me that I could barely remember their names. I wondered about their undone years.  Would they have gone to war with their caps set at such a jaunty angle if they had known the result?  I suspect so.  That was the calibre of the men who went to war all those years ago.

My reverie was cut short when I saw the twenty Fokkers flying in fingers of five and heading for us.  The party was over and the war had come knocking once again.

They were the D.VII and a new bus we later learned was the SSW D.IV.  A smaller aeroplane than the Fokker, this would be our first encounter with it. I was in the middle and I headed for the pilot of the purple Fokker. I checked in my mirror that Wally was in position. He had flown with me long enough to be able to react to my moves and to anticipate what I might do.  I knew that I still surprised him from time to time but that day I made what was for Wally, a predictable move.  I dipped my nose and, as the German snap fired brought up my nose to fire at the Fokker. Knowing my move Wally fired at the same time as I did and we hit both the propeller and the engine.  I continued my climb and rose to meet the smaller aeroplane we later discovered was the SSW.  It, too, had the twin Spandau and I felt the bullets rip into my top wing.  I held my fire and suffered even more hits.  I fired at thirty feet, just before we would have crashed had not my bullets torn into the side of the cockpit and he plunged to earth.

His wing man began to climb away. I found, to my great relief, that the SSW had a poor rate of climb and I began to catch him. I fired at twenty yards and hit his tail.  He twisted and turned as he descended.  They were a very agile bus and it kept twisting from my sights. I followed him as long as I could and kept hitting him with bursts from my Vickers but the SSW was a difficult bus to bring down and my fuel gauge told me to head on home.

I saw a Camel being pursued towards me by two Fokkers.  He was under fire and his engine was smoking.  As we closed I saw that it was one of my flight, Roger Stuart.  He had grown into a competent pilot but two Fokkers would be too much for him. I did not know how much ammunition I had left.  I would need to be careful.  I flew directly for Roger and hoped that he would know my moves. As we closed with each other I dipped my nose slightly.  He knew what I was about and he dipped his so that, when I rose I had the closest Fokker just forty feet from me. I gave a short burst from my Vickers.  I had taken the Hun by surprise and I saw smoke from his engine. The second Fokker opened fire and I felt the bullets as they hit my struts. Knowing I had few bullets left I flew directly at him. He blinked first and as he climbed I riddled his undercarriage with the last of my .303.  He rolled away east.

I glanced over the side of my Camel and saw Roger heading along the ground.  He was smoking heavily and I was not certain he would be able to make Doyle Field.  I did not have enough fuel to watch over him and I waved as I left him.

Flying on fumes I landed my damaged bus.  I was the last to return. “Mr Stuart will need some assistance when he lands Flight. He was badly shot up.”

“Sir.” Sergeant Lowery put his fist through one of the holes in my wing. “A bit like you eh sir?”

The office was like a funeral parlour. After I had made my report I soon learned that two officers had been killed, Wood and Newton. “How about you Bill?”

“Just waiting for Stuart.  He was badly shot up.  He might have to crash land.”

Randolph nodded as Archie pushed over the whisky. “It has been a black day all over.  The SE 5s lost five today.  The Germans have brought new buses to the front and they are faster than what we have.”

“How many did we get?”

“It looks like three kills and five damaged.” He looked at me.  “You say you damaged two of the D.VII when you helped Stuart?” I nodded, “Then that makes seven damaged.”

We spent some time talking about the new SSW and the telephone rang. Randolph looked up.  “That was the Australians. Roger Stuart was killed by ground fire.  They recovered his body but he was already dead. Sorry Bill.”

Every loss was a bad one but my flight had been together for some time and I had had the foolish dream that we would all survive the war. I stood, “I’ll go and tell the lads.”