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1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) Page 10
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“We will not be using live ammunition today but I want the new pilots and gunners to practise changing magazines. You change a magazine every ten minutes today. When you get to your aeroplanes you will find some sticky labels. Put a label on each magazine when you change it. This afternoon I want the gunners to come here while Sergeants Hutton and Laithwaite give the new men some tips on aerial gunnery. The new pilots will go to the field where First Lieutenant Sharp will take you on a guided tour of the front.” There were titters and giggles from some of the more experienced pilots and confusion from the new ones. “Any questions?” They had been given too much information already and there was silence. “Dismiss.”
I was not surprised any more by the youth of the new pilots. Giggs and Fryer looked like young versions of Freddie. I gathered them around me. “Lieutenant Giggs you will be on my tail. Peter behind him. Young Fryer will be behind you and Freddie here will see if you can fly in a straight line. I won’t ask how many hours you have in a Gunbus as the men who trained you don’t seem to think it is important. It is not the fastest aeroplane in the world but it is a steady platform and it does not come apart when you throw a loop. Hutton!”
Sergeant Hutton snapped forward. I had primed him. “Sir!”
“This is Sergeant Hutton. He is a snug fit in the front of the cockpit, aren’t you Sergeant?”
“Yes sir, very snug.”
“However if I looped without telling him where would he be?”
The two new lads looking mystified and Hutton answered for them. “I would be splattered all over the ground.”
“Now that would not be a good thing would it Lieutenant Giggs?”
“Er, no sir.”
“And why not, Lieutenant Fryer?”
“Because he would be dead, sir.”
“Yes he would and that would be a great loss to the RFC as Sergeant Hutton here has shot and damaged ten German aeroplanes. He has shot down more enemy planes than Lieutenant Carrick. Isn’t that correct, Lieutenant?”
Having been pre warned he said cheerily, “Yes sir.”
“And Lieutenant Carrick is a very good pilot who has, himself, shot down a number of German aeroplanes.” I paused and watched the terror on the faces of the new pilots and gunners. “What I am saying is if my senior pilots and sergeant give you advice then please take it. They do know what they are talking about. Now I hope that you read the sheet I sent to you last night with my signals. Today, gentlemen, we give you a test!”
I gave them a hard test. I took them towards the enemy front but stopped over the British lines. We dived down to tree top level. We peeled left and right. I took them through every manoeuvre including our famous circle. I hoped to God that we would not need to use that in the near future. I needed my young pilots bedding in easily.
When we landed I smiled, “Well done, lads. Now get some lunch. Giggs and Fryer, report here after lunch and your sergeants join the others in the Mess Hall.”
Peter joined them while Freddie lit a cigarette and waited with me next to my aeroplane. “What do you think Freddie?”
“They seem like they know what they are doing but it’s like me and Johnny, until you put them in a dogfight you don’t know how they will react. After I lost… well you know… I never thought I would get in an aeroplane again.”
“I know but you did and I, for one, am glad.”
The mechanic came over. “Everything all right sir?”
“Yes Green, she is sweet as a nut. Now I have a little favour to ask.”
He smiled, “Ask away sir.”
“I need a horse painting here on the side of the cockpit.”
“A horse?”
I sighed. Green was a good mechanic but he lacked imagination. “Yes, Green, the four flight commanders are going to have an insignia painted on the side. I chose a horse because I was in the cavalry.”
“I’m not very good at painting sir.”
“Look it doesn’t have to look like a Stubbs. It just has to look like a horse.”
“I can do it sir.” We both looked at Carrick; me with surprise and Green with gratitude. “I was going to study art if I hadn’t joined up. I could give it a go.”
“I’ll sort you some paints out sir.” Grateful that he no longer had a job to do Green scurried off.
“I would be delighted if you could give it a go.”
“Actually, sir it might do me some good, you know, to do something creative. How big do you want it to be?”
“So that the flight can recognise my aeroplane.”
“Righto, I’ll grab a quick lunch and make a start.” When he went off whistling I knew he was doing something he wanted to do. I had no idea he was an artist. I wondered what hidden depths the others had.
When the new pilots returned after the Charlie Sharp show, as it became to be known, they were both green and chastened. I knew that it would have the desired effect and the gunners would be safer. It still did not guarantee that they would return alive on the morrow but they had a better chance now. I left the mess as soon as dinner was over. I had still to receive a letter from Beatrice and I was worrying that perhaps she was having second thoughts about us. I rationalised by telling myself that none of us had had mail in some time and the Somme Offensive was causing the problems. However, as I was now more aware of my own mortality I wrote another letter explaining how I felt. If I was to die then I wanted her to know how much she had meant to me in the short space of time we had had together. I slept easier with the letter written.
Chapter 9
Bates was in my room when I woke up. He had my uniform laid out with a freshly laundered and ironed shirt. “Good morning, sir. A few clouds about today but I don’t think it will rain.” He began to tidy the room. He picked up the letter, “Shall I post this for you Captain Harsker?”
“No, thank you Bates, I have to go to Captain Marshall’s office to collect the maps.”
I dropped off the letter in the admin office before I left. Senior Flight Sergeant Lowery grinned as I dropped it off. “That is one job I don’t have to do any more sir. I have a clerk who just deals with letters!”
As I walked to the aeroplane I reflected that Lowery was much happier with the influx of the new men now that he realised his job was easier. In contrast, mine was harder. I would need eyes in the back of my head if I was to watch over my two new charges.
I was stunned by Freddie’s artwork. He had had a limited palette of paint but he had done a good job. No not just a good job but a work of art. It was a rearing steed. It was not the same colour as Caesar but that was my fault as I had not specified the colour. Even more amazing was the fact that he had painted an identical one on the other side. It was all that I could have hoped for and more.
Hutton was fiddling on in the cockpit. He looked up when he heard me, “Lovely isn’t it sir? Mr Carrick has some real talent there. I wish I could do one thing half as well as he paints.”
“How about being a gunner?”
He shook his head. “That doesn’t even come close. He has made something beautiful there, sir. All I am good at is destroying things.”
It was the most reflective I had ever seen Sergeant Hutton to be. His veneer of good humour was just a means to cope with what he did. I was learning about the men I led.
My flight was the first one to be ready and, as we did not need the whole squadron to accompany us, I took off. We had heard the guns from the moment we woke but we were so familiar with the sound by now that it did not register. The dust and debris flying in the air on the horizon was not unusual. Mindful of my new charges I took us up higher, to 10,000 feet. It was safer. The air was definitely chilly at that height and I was grateful for my thick leather flying coat. Although it was the middle of July we all knew that the nights would soon become longer and the air colder. Summer was brief when you were high in the sky. It was, however, a beautiful morning. The sun’s rays fought the dust and destruction thrown up by the artillery and a myriad of colours could be
seen. It was as though nature was making something ugly as beautiful as it could.
“German lines ahead, sir.”
“Right Sergeant Hutton, eyes peeled and try to watch behind whenever you can eh?”
“Look at this sir.” He held up a stick to which he had attached a mirror. “I can watch behind without getting a crick in my neck.”
“Well done!” It was such a simple thing. Flight Sergeant Hutton was remarkably inventive. I would have one fitted to my cockpit. It would give me the comfort of seeing what the new boys were up to.
“They look to be on station, sir.”
The guns ceased. While talking to Colonel McCartney I learned the silence of the guns was the signal for an attack. He had told me that the French had mastered the art of the rolling barrage which enabled the artillery to fire ahead of the advancing infantry for longer and kept the German heads down. He had told me philosophically that a creeping barrage would save hundreds of men in an attack and he prayed for the day that the British Artillery would learn that skill.
I looked down and saw the thin brown line as it left the British trenches. “Let’s go down and buzz the machine gunners, sergeant. We can help those lads down there.”
The enthusiasm was back in his voice as he said, “Good idea.” It might not be the Liverpool Pals down there but Lumpy and I had a picture in our heads of the men we had visited. To us every Tommy in the trenches was a friend.
I banked to the left and we seemed to accelerate faster than we had before. It must have been my imagination but it felt like the days when I charged with Caesar. I think it was the Rolls Royce engines performing better at that altitude. It was a rapid descent and, I hoped, it would catch the Germans unawares. We were close enough now to see the grey uniforms emerged from their holes like so many ants and flock to their guns. As Hutton fired obliquely at those on the right I fired ahead. We were flying at two hundred feet above the trenches but directly along them towards the north east. As we had seen there was protection from front and rear in the trenches but nothing along the sides. The short bursts threw German soldiers into the bottom of the trenches. Hutton was moving his gun from side to side to maximise casualties. The Germans had nowhere to run. When we had passed there were more Gunbuses dealing death and destruction. When my Lewis clicked empty I began to climb.
I hoped, as we banked right, that we had made life a little easier for the advancing Tommies. After Hutton had changed magazines he held up his mirror and said, “All your little chicks are there, Captain Harsker.”
“Thank you.” It remained to be seen if they could reload their magazines. They had all done so in the training exercise the previous day but this was a different scenario. When I levelled out I changed mine and we headed south down the German lines.
“Fokkers sir, to the east.”
I looked to where Hutton was pointing. Eight biplanes were heading our way. Hutton was guessing at the make; the Halberstadt looked identical to the Fokker from a distance. “Right, let’s go and meet them eh?” I waggled my wings to tell the flight that we were attacking. I banked east and I was glad that we had climbed. The Germans must have been close to their base for they were much lower than we were. From the angle of their craft I could see that they were climbing to meet us.
They would expect us to go for the middle of their line. It had been what we had done every time so far. I decided to vary this. It was easier to do this with a flight rather than a squadron. “Lumpy, I am going to aim for the aeroplane on the far right of their line and then swing around behind them. I will edge that way gradually.”
“Righto sir!”
The Huns were too concerned with gaining height and keeping their formation and they did not appear to notice that we were not following our normal pattern. They were still a couple of hundred feet below us. The rising sun would not come into play yet and so I dived at the first biplane. Hutton had been correct, they were Fokkers. This was the blue squadron. It was important to take out the first aeroplane and Hutton and I fired at the same time. The climbing Fokker’s parabellums zipped over our heads but our converging fire ripped into him. He had been climbing and had not adjusted enough for our descent. He wasted his bullets.
I banked right as the line of Fokkers tried to bank to meet us. We had the advantage of gunners who could fire to the side. I had no targets but Hutton fired short bursts as we flew south. There were no bullets coming back at us as the Germans were still turning. By the time we had reached the end of the line Sergeant Hutton had emptied the magazine.
I banked and climbed as we headed back north. It was a glorious sight to behold as I turned. The eight Germans had been riddled with bullets from our gunners. I saw five of them heading east with smoke and damage. Two were spiralling to the earth and the last was climbing in a desperate attempt to avoid Freddie and Sergeant Laithwaite who were both pouring .303s into it. When it began to drop to earth I headed west. We had enough fuel to get home and we had done our duty.
Although we had left first we had strayed further into enemy territory than the others and we were the last to land. They were just lining up their buses when we landed. The fact that there were no ambulances nor huddles of mechanics told me that the day had gone better than we might have expected. I knew we had been in the air for a long time when the wound in my shoulder began to ache. I suspected that, once we came into wet weather, it would ache even more. As I clambered out of the cockpit I was just glad to be alive.
“Well done, Lumpy. That was fine shooting.”
“Do you reckon that is half a kill each then sir?”
I waved an airy hand, “You can have it all.” I patted the horse’s head, “After all you were upholding the honour of Harsker’s Cavalry.”
He grinned and a cheeky look came over his face, “You are right sir. We are the cavalry. I do like that.”
We waited for the others to join us. I was anxious to see the reaction of Giggs and Fryer. I could see their animation as they came towards me with hands soaring, banking and diving. “Nice shooting, Sergeant Laithwaite and you Lieutenant Carrick. Whose kill was that?”
Freddie nodded to his gunner. “I am certain that Sergeant Laithwaite would have been the one to make the killing shot. Mine was just reactive.”
“And how about you Peter?”
He had genuine relief on his face. “That was much easier sir. I think I actually hit something up there and I changed a magazine.”
I adopted an amazed look, “A hit and a changed magazine? Is there a pilot lurking beneath that youthful exterior?”
“I hope so sir. Thanks for giving me a chance.”
“Don’t worry you deserved it.” I glanced at the other pair, “And you two.”
“It was more frightening than we thought but we felt more confident when you hit that first German.”
“Good. Now check your buses and then see you in the mess for a little tiffin eh?”
“Right sir.”
Gordy and Carstairs were waiting for me. From the look on Carstairs’ face he had something important to tell me. I saw Gordy wink and had it confirmed.
“Sir, I shot down one Fokker and my gunner and I damaged a second. I am off the mark!”
I shook his hand, “Well done. That is excellent news. I am genuinely delighted.”
“I know sir and I want you to know I won’t let you down and…” he hesitated and looked at the ground, “and I am thoroughly ashamed of being such an absolute fool when I first arrived. I don’t know why you didn’t send me packing right away.”
Gordy laughed, “If we did that with every Second Lieutenant who behaved that way we would only have five pilots in the squadron! That’s the Captain’s job, Jamie. He turns public school boys into pilots.” He tapped my chest, “He didn’t get the Military Cross for fighting Germans. It was for working wonders with the pride of Eton and Harrow!”
Archie, too, was delighted. “Today went well, Bill. Very little damage to us and half a dozen Germans either
shot down or damaged.”
I gave a word of caution, “We caught them napping today sir. It might not be as easy in the future. We know what quick learners they are. Let’s wait a week or so, until the end of July before we start congratulating ourselves.”
Captain Marshall laughed, “Are you turning into Doom and Gloom Thomas? You sound just like him.”
“Let’s just say I have lost my naïveté since I was wounded. Just when you think you have it all under control, bam! Something smacks you one.”
Bates was waiting for me when I reached my quarters. “Really Captain Harsker, you need to look after yourself more. You work harder than anyone. I have drawn you a nice hot bath. What would you like to drink?”
“Er, a cup of tea?”
“An excellent idea sir. Now come along, get undressed I have your robe ready!”
He was a fussy little man but his heart was in the right place and, to be fair, the bath was the perfect temperature. He came into the bathroom, seemingly oblivious to my naked form. He handed me a cup of tea. Cocking his head to one side he said, “I asked the mess orderlies how you liked your tea. I shall soon get to know your little ways, sir.”
As I drank my tea I hoped he had not been looking in the bath when he said that.
Dinner was a boisterous affair with much good humour in evidence. I commented to Gordy that it was in direct contrast to the atmosphere when Major Hamilton-Grant had been running it. After dinner we crowded into the seating area of the mess. The young officers all deferred to the older ones and allowed us the seats.
Ted said, “Captain Marshall, can’t you get the engineers to enlarge our quarters? We are a bigger squadron after all.”
“You are right but it still won’t help the seating arrangements. Quarter Master Doyle was playing darts. He had his usual cigarette dangling precariously from his lip. It seemed to be an art form. “Sir, if you give me a few bob of Mess funds I should be able to wangle something.”