1918 We will remember them (5 page)

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Authors: Griiff Hosker

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Genre Fiction, #Historical, #Military, #War, #Historical Fiction

BOOK: 1918 We will remember them
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When it was dark I slowly raised my head. It took some time for my eyes to become accustomed to the dark but soon I was able to pick out the other aeroplanes and, eventually, the sentries.  There were detectable when they moved.  I moved my head slowly so that I could see all of them. I was happy when I had identified their positions. Sergeant Wilson was the one walking around them all. I heard him as he snapped at any inattention or glowing cigarette.  He was good at his job. I could not see how a saboteur could hope to get close to an aeroplane.  He would be spotted by the sergeant or one of the sentries. Perhaps there were two of them.  That would make sense.

I could not see the face of my watch but I detected the noises from the messes which gave me an idea of the time.  I heard the sergeants return to their quarters and knew it would be about 10.30. When the young officers noisily headed home then I knew it was about 11. The senior officers would not be drinking and they would be sleeping either dressed or half dressed.  All of us were anxious to get to the bottom of this.

Randolph had given us disappointing news.  Apart from the new officers and gunners he could not find any record of any airman joining us in the last month either before we left for Ypres or since we had returned. That made the likelihood that the saboteur had been with us for some time even higher.  Neither was there any evidence that there was anything suspect in the backgrounds of the men. None had either Continental or Irish connections.  Since the 1916 uprising many Irishmen had been investigated for their possible sympathies to the IRA. Apart from a couple of Welshmen and half a dozen Scotsmen everyone was English.  It was perplexing.

I had a drink of coffee as I heard the officers retiring. It gave me something to do and the movement brought the circulation back to my legs.  The coffee was still hot and I felt more awake. I decided to wait an hour for my next drink.  It was a sort of treat for myself. I had put the flask in the bottom of the cockpit and looked up when I noticed a shadow was missing. I looked to the left and to the right.  The shadows of the sentries were still marching up and down.  There was one missing. I wondered if he had gone to relieve himself and I carefully and slowly scanned the field for someone doing just that. As my head turned towards Freddie’s aeroplane I saw the shadow and he was approaching the rear of the Camel. I withdrew my Luger.  I wanted to have a bead on him before I shouted. I raised my head and arm so that, if I had to I had a clear shot.

I watched as he moved towards the fuel filler cap. Freddie had not seen him.  It would be up to me. I raised the Luger and aimed it at his back. I could not bring myself to shoot a man in the back.  There might have been a harmless explanation.  I could not think what it might be but who knew?

I shouted, “That man! Stand still or I will shoot.” I had had a powerful voice when I had been a sergeant. The figure spun around and I saw a gun in his hand.  It was a pistol.  He fired and the bullet cracked into the spar above my head.  I fired three quick shots. The gun fell from his hand and he tumbled to the ground clutching his chest.

Freddie was out in an instant, his Webley aimed at the man.  Sergeant Wilson was racing over with a handful of sentries and I heard the commotion as officers and sergeants ran from their quarters.

By the time I had clambered down Sergeant Wilson had his rifle pointed at the soldier’s head.  “It’s Tommy Devlin sir! I never would have believed it!”

The dying man opened his eyes and laughed.  A tendril of blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. “And that’s because you are an ignorant, stupid Englishman.  I am just sorry more of you murdering bastards didn’t die.  Another week and….”

We heard no more, for he expired there and then.  Archie and Randolph arrived.  Sergeant Wilson said, “He was only new sir but he was really popular.”

Randolph said, “New?  That is impossible.  When did he arrive?”

“He was here sir when we came back from Ypres. He said he had been sent from Headquarters.” We stared at him. “He had the uniform and….” He shook his head, “He was right, sir, I am stupid. I was so busy organising rosters and tents I didn’t check his transfer papers I assumed he had shown them to an officer.  He just walked in as bold as brass and I didn’t check him. I am so sorry, sir.”

“Well we have all learned a lesson.  Tomorrow morning we hold a parade and Captain Marshall here will check every man on the base. We lost two good men because of this spy.  It could have been worse. We nipped his antics in the bud. He might have used more metal in the fuel and killed many more good men than he did. Well done Bill.  You have saved a trial and a firing squad.”

It had been some time since I had seen the face of someone I had killed.  As I returned to my quarters I decided to have a whisky to help me get to sleep.

Chapter 5

Poor Sergeant Wilson was a broken man.  A career soldier he normally followed the King’s Regulations to the letter. Tommy Devlin had been very clever.  He had obviously been sent by the Germans as soon as the squadron left for Ypres.  It was a skeleton garrison we had left and there was no officer there.  It was mainly stores staff and a few guards.  They were more than happy to have an extra pair of hands.  It helped that he was a popular soldier who pitched in with anything and everything. He seemed very curious and happy to listen to the stories of the squadrons and the pilots. It helped him to blend in. Once the squadron returned he volunteered for the night duty saying that he disliked the sun.  We found his pockets filled with metal filings and pieces of metal.  He had helped the armourers out by sweeping their workshops. Until we discovered his true vocation there was not a more popular soldier on the base.

We examined his quarters and found nothing at first then Randolph noticed the one of the floor boards was not as tight as the ones around it and when it was prised up we found his German identification. It was obviously there in case he was captured by the Germans.  The code book was useful but Headquarters had other copies of it. All of his belongings were gathered together as evidence which might help other squadrons.

Archie was summoned to Amiens where he briefed the other squadron commanders. The trick could have been repeated almost anywhere. As soon as investigations began four other spies were discovered, three of whom fled before they could be apprehended.  They were all members of the IRA and had been enlisted by the Imperial High Command. They had exploited the unrest after the Easter Rising of 1916. In late August and early September military police were drafted in to every airfield to oversee security. It was difficult at first but we lived with it. Any one of us could have died at the hands of the saboteur.

When Archie returned it was also with new orders.  We were to clear the Germans from the skies. It was a tall order but something of a relief. Dealing with spies and saboteurs was not usual.  Fighting high above the skies was. Archie also brought us news of new developments for our buses.  Some squadrons had been issued with oxygen to enable them to fly higher.  At the moment it was limited to bomber crews but eventually we would have the ability to fly to our ceiling.  We could reach almost twenty thousand feet!

Johnny was keen to fly again.  I had been tempted to ask for him to be my tail end Charlie but that would not be fair on Freddie.  I decided to persevere with Jack Fall.  The night before our first flight I took him for a walk around the aeroplane park.  I noticed the increased security. It felt reassuring.

“I am leaving you as the last aeroplane in the flight because I have faith in you.  But you have to concentrate.  You must watch in your mirror and make sure we are not jumped.  You must watch what I do.  I realise I am four aeroplanes up from you but you have to do it.  If Mr Jenkin decides to be an Australian and go walkabout again you have to ignore him.  You are there to protect the flight and not Mr Jenkin.”

“He won’t do that again.  He has promised me.”

“Well I will take that statement with a pinch of salt.  I hope he means it because we need every pilot we can get at the front.  All of you are more valuable now for you have survived your first flight over the German lines.  Every time you land your value goes up.”

“Really sir?  We are valuable?”

I put my arm around his shoulder, “Of course you are and you will be a good pilot. I am confident in that.”

The one order I did not like was the one which separated the two halves of the squadron. Archie was less than happy too but he had to follow the orders. The Bristols would fly one sector and the Camels another.  The Bristol had been a good fighter in its day but the new Germans buses could fly rings around the old two seater. I forced the thought of my friends dying from my mind and we ascended to our sector and flew east looking for Germans.

I glanced in my mirror and saw that my flight was keeping formation.  I would soon have a stiff neck watching out for the troublesome George Jenkin. I knew that I could have him transferred but that seemed like admitting defeat to me.  He had the makings of a good pilot but I needed to change his attitude. Aerial combat needs complete concentration and I forced myself to look to the east. Our mission was to eliminate the threat of the Jasta. To do so meant flying over their lines.  I knew the inherent dangers in this.  We would have less time to fight them and the Triplane, which we assumed had a shorter endurance, would not flee as fast. I hoped my young pilots were up to it.

I glanced to port.  Freddie and his flight were on station.  They were my ace in the hole for they represented the best combat pilots we had. I could rely on them. I saw Freddie wave forward and I saw the black dots climbing to meet us. I frowned as I waggled my wings to let my flight know we were about to go into action.  We were barely over the German lines and yet the German aeroplanes were closing with us. They must have airfields which were closer to the front than they had been.

I cocked my Vickers and kept flying at the same altitude. Height was precious and you did not lose it until you had to. We would maintain our position. I had learned that timing was all. Sometimes fortune smiles on you for no reason. On that morning a sudden shaft of sunlight picked out the ascending flight.  They were a rainbow of colours.  It was the Flying Circus. I had the greenest of pilots to face the best that the Germans possessed.  I had to get my flight back to safety as soon as possible. I knew that Freddie would have recognised the livery and would react accordingly but I had no way of telling my flight of the danger.  They would be excited to be finally facing the Germans.

We had closed to within a mile or so.  They were climbing in their normal formation and I would have to endure the fire of five aeroplanes. I decided to climb a little.  It might confuse the Hun but, more importantly it would allow us to sweep from the north and then turn west. It would also burn up valuable German fuel. Almost all of the Germans were the new Fokker Triplane. I saw, in my mirror, that some of my aeroplanes were a little slow to react to my formation change. It made me level out a little sooner than I wanted. I banked to starboard and started to descend.

I was closing with Fritz at a combined speed of over two hundred miles an hour. At that speed you have less than a couple of seconds to fire and hit your target. My dive was shallow. I saw the German guns as they spat flames.  I had learned to ignore them.  You could not worry about them hitting you.  You prayed that they would not. I waiting until the Fokker was in my sights and I pulled my triggers. It was a small target and only in my sights for a second but I hit him and then he was gone.  I pulled up my nose and was rewarded with the sight of the underbelly of a bright green and yellow Albatros.  I fired a short burst. This time I knew that I had hit it for it began to peel away. Then I felt the judder of bullets hitting my fuselage. I kept climbing.  If we could regain height then we might still have an advantage. Looking in my mirror I saw that the Jasta had disrupted our formation. There were just Fall and Clayson behind me now and they were no longer tight to me.

The air was filled with aeroplanes. It was a confused and chaotic melee. I looked ahead and saw clear sky.  My compass told me that I was heading south. I banked to starboard. The red Triplane appeared from nowhere. I had to pull hard on the stick to avoid a collision and we passed within the width of a wing. I was so close that I saw the pilot’s face.  It was the Red Baron. He cheekily waved at me as he recognised me too and then he was gone.

I saw Jenkin and Hazell below me.  They had lost the precious altitude and three Fokkers were chasing them.  They were jinking across the front as they tried to evade the deadly twin machine guns.  I dived down to go to their aid. Lieutenants Clayson and Fall followed me.  The Camel is so responsive that we began to close rapidly with the three Hun who were now two thousand feet below me. I saw Lieutenant Hazell’s bus judder and begin to smoke as he was hit by the Huns’ guns. I was too far away to fire.  I saw Jenkin as he started to climb.  I prayed that Nat would not try to emulate him.  His rudder was a mess. One of the triplanes climbed after Jenkin.

The smoke was now pouring from the Camel. At a thousand yards, as I saw the tiny target of the blue and yellow triplane cross my sights, I fired a hopeful burst.  As luck would have it, my bullets arced above him.  Although I did not hit him it warned him of my presence and he pulled his nose up a little. It gave Lieutenant Hazell some respite.  I heard Roger Clayson’s guns as he fired at the rear of the two Fokkers we followed.  I fired a second burst and the Fokker’s new flight path took him across the twin lines of tracer. I saw the bullets thump into his rudder. It clearly affected his control and he began to edge east. I fired another burst which, although it missed, encouraged him to depart.  His wingman left with him.

Lieutenant Hazell was in trouble.  I waved to Clayson and Fall to follow him while I scanned the skies for Jenkin. I knew that I would not have long to search for him.  I was running out of fuel but I could not abandon him. I banked to port and saw the two of them.  Jenkin was heading east! He was flying towards the German airfield. All that I could think was that he had forgotten to look at his compass. I was still above them and I dived to intercept. The Fokker was closing inexorably with my young pilot.  Jenkin was doing all that he could to shake both the German and his aim. Bullets were still striking his Camel. I saw pieces of his undercarriage fall to the ground as they were hit. I came at the Fokker obliquely and it gave me a longer shot. I fired three bursts as I closed with him. One of them hit his bus close to his middle wing. I saw the Fokker wobble in the air.  I fired a longer burst.  My guns clicked empty but I saw a small plume of smoke come from his engine.

Lieutenant Jenkin must have realised he was flying the wrong way for he pulled hard to the right and the German kept going east. As I banked I saw the German pilot wave his arm at me. He must have realised that I was out of bullets for he had been at my mercy.

As I headed west I watched the erratic course the lieutenant was flying. His controls had been damaged. My bus was also feeling the effects of the combat. The holes in my wings were making it more sluggish. As soon as I saw the field, in the distance, I fired the Very pistol. The ground crews would be ready for the Camel. I knew that the undercarriage on Jenkin’s bus was gone already.  This would not be a pretty landing. I watched as the lieutenant fought to keep the Camel on as straight a line as he could. He was showing me now what a good pilot he was. The Camel was not a forgiving mistress. As I circled the field I saw Doc Brennan and his staff as they dealt with the other casualties. Then I watched as the stricken Camel bumped down.  The damaged wheels collapsed as soon as they hit the grass. Jenkin was lucky.  His tail hit the ground first. The damage he had received meant that it swung the aeroplane around and then the tail detached.  It stopped him cart wheeling but it made him spin until the propeller dug into the ground and he stopped.

I banked and began my approach. I had to avoid his Camel which was in the middle of the runway. I hoped I did not catch a hole on the little used left side of the field or I too would have a written off Camel. God favoured me that day and, although it was not a smooth landing I came to a rest with the bus intact and I was able to climb down to the grass safely.

I took out my pipe as soon as I landed. It had been a lucky encounter but, as I counted the aeroplanes which had landed already I saw that we had been hurt. I saw Nat Hazell being carried off on a stretcher and the mechanics shaking their heads at the state of his Camel. Others were trying to cut Jenkin free from his almost destroyed Camel.  I got my pipe going before I walked over.  It helped to calm me. Archie was striding down from the office. I saw Freddie and his flight as they began to land. I saw that Lieutenant Carpenter was missing.  Freddie and his men would need all their skills to land successfully until the field had been cleared.

Archie reached me, “Problems laddie?”

I nodded, “We ran into the flying circus.  It was the Red Baron himself. We managed to wing a couple of them but they made a mess of the young lads.”

“That’s all we needed.  Still it could have been worse.  If they had jumped the Bristols then it might have been a disaster.”

I allowed myself a wry smile, Archie was definitely seeing the glass half full if he thought that there was anything good to be gleaned from this encounter.

With Lieutenant Jenkin on a stretcher the mechanics and riggers began to move the two damaged aeroplanes.  In the distance we heard the throb of the Bristols as they returned. As they did so Freddie and his flight landed. We watched Freddie and his men taxi and then park up their buses.  I counted the Bristols. They looked to be intact. Although, as they began to land we saw that they too had run into trouble. September had started badly.

Freddie came over to join us. “What happened to Carpenter?” I knew that Freddie would not be happy to have lost a pilot.

“He was forced down behind our lines. He walked away from the bus but I think it is a write off.  Mr Lowery and his scavengers might be able to rescue some of the bits but…”

“Did we get any? I was too busy to see if we actually managed to shoot any down.”

“I am not certain.  It was confused up there.  I think we damaged four or five of theirs but I didn’t see any crash.”

Archie nodded, “Honours even then.”

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