1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) (8 page)

I nodded, “This is Sergeant Hutton and I am Captain Harsker, sir.  We were one of the aeroplanes.”

He shook me by the hand. “You were a Godsend.  When the Hun opened up we all said our prayers.  The Chaplain said God had sent his angels to watch over us.”

“We were glad to be of help.”

“Do you mind if I am honest with you?”

“Please.”

“Until that day we thought you lads were all a bunch of toffs swanning around in the skies.  That’s all we ever saw of you.  High in the sky like little flies having your little fights with the Germans.  Now we know that you are on our side.  So thank you.  Let’s get started.”

As we followed the Colonel and his Sergeant Major I felt shocked. I could understand how the infantry felt but it wasn’t true.  We would have to do something about that image when we returned.

It was like a maze.  I had no idea how they knew where we were going. We saw increasing evidence of the proximity of the enemy.  There were sentries at every junction and they all looked at us warily. At one point the Sergeant Major shouted, “Shell!” He unceremoniously pushed the colonel and me into the side of the trench.  There was an enormous crack and crump and after we were hit by a wall of air we were showered in dirt and debris.  My ears rang.

The Sergeant Major grinned, “Sorry about that sirs but the Huns like to try to catch us out and fire blind. Of course if the buggers have their spotter aeroplanes up then we have to send for stretcher bearers.”

After another twenty minutes we stopped. “This is almost as far as we go.  There are Germans two hundred yards away.” The colonel pointed to a firing step. “If you stand on there you can see the German lines through the periscope.”

I stood on the firing step and peered through the crudely made periscope. I could see barbed wire and then sandbags.  That had to be the German lines. I had just stepped down when I heard the sound of Rolls Royce engines.  I looked up.  “There, it’s our squadron.”

Colonel McCartney said, “How do you know?”

“The 41 on the tail.”

We watched as they dived down to an unseen target.  The rattle of the Lewis was the only evidence of action for they were hidden by the sandbags and the trenches. It was infuriating to hear and not to see.  After ten minutes or so they hummed into view again.

Colonel McCartney said, “That is the reason we had the opinion of you we did before.  They will be back home in a dry billet in half an hour. Our lads live like this.” He lifted a canvas door and we peered in to a hole in the ground lit by a candle and with beds cut into the earth walls.  “We manage three days and then back to the reserve trenches.”

“Look sir! Fokkers!”

I looked to where Hutton pointed. Twelve Fokkers had appeared out of the sky and were diving on the rear of the Gunbuses.  I recognised Freddie Carrick’s aeroplane at the rear and saw his gunner standing and firing.  You could see, from the ground, just how much faster the Fokkers were. The advantage the squadron had was that they were low and it was hard to get in the blind spot but poor Freddie was being targeted by Fokker after Fokker.  I saw him suddenly climb.  It took the Germans by surprise and allowed Sergeant Laithwaite to bring his gun to bear.

I suddenly saw that you could have three Gunbuses stacked one above the other and they would be able to protect one another. I thought they had escaped unscathed when smoke began to pour from the engines of both of my flight’s aeroplanes. Thankfully the ground fire from the British trenches drove the Germans back but I wondered if the two young pilots would make it back in one piece.

Colonel McCartney was an astute man, “I take it you gentlemen will want to get back to your squadron to see how your lads are.”

Colonel Pemberton-Smythe said, “Thank you colonel we are a little concerned.  Those two aeroplanes are from Captain Harsker’s flight.”

I nodded, “If my bus wasn’t damaged then I would have been up there with them.”

“I understand.  We aren’t that different are we?  I won’t leave the field until I know all my lads have left.” He shook his head, “Its daft I know but they become like family.”

“I think, Colonel McCartney, that they are all our family, at least until this nightmare is over!”

“Amen to that Captain Harsker.”

All three of us were silent as we drove back to the airfield. It had been a lesson to us all. I could not imagine sleeping in a hole in the ground.  We had suffered one shell but to have to endure shelling at night whilst sleeping underground would be the worst kind of nightmare.  It made me think of Bert, tunnelling underground.  I did not know if he was in this sector but I hoped not.

When we reached the airfield we saw that Freddie and Johnny had both landed successfully but they had been badly shot up.  Flight Sergeant McKay stood looking at them. “We no sooner get your bus sorted out than these two need major repairs.  These will take a couple of days to repair Captain Harsker.  Sorry, sir.”

“It can’t be helped.”

In the adjutant’s office I found Archie and Randolph in deep discussion.  “There is a pattern to all this.” Archie looked up as I entered, “I was just saying there is method in this madness. We tootled up and down for our patrol without seeing anything.  We went down to attack a column of Boche coming up the road and they jumped us.  Your lads did well, Bill.  They kept the Fokkers off our tail.”

The colonel had come in during the conversation. “We know, we had a grandstand view from the trenches.”

“You were there?”

“Yes and it was a valuable lesson. You might have been attacked, Archie, but it was worth it to help those poor boys in the trenches. They are having it hard. If you had seen the conditions in which they were living it would have broken your heart.”

I nodded, “And Sergeant Hutton was talking to his wife’s cousin.  The ordinary soldiers are really grateful when we shoot up the Germans. It is making a difference.”

Randolph held up an order, “And this came in today. We are escorting bombers tomorrow. They are the BE 2s I am afraid.”

I groaned, “Why couldn’t they be the Martinsyde?  They are even faster than we are.”

“I know but I think it is a measure of the problems they are finding in the trenches.  The artillery simply hasn’t the range to hurt them when they are bringing up troops. They have to resort to using Fokker Fodder now. We have to stop their reinforcements reaching the front.”

Colonel Pemberton-Smythe put his hand on my shoulder.  “Remember Colonel McCartney and his lads. They have to walk across a field of death.  At least we are going a little faster than that.”

“You are right sir, sorry. As my lads are grounded will I just lead Gordy’s flight?”

“You can take up the two new pilots.  It will be a baptism of fire but you look after your pilots.” I looked at Archie quizzically. He smiled, “Holt and Carrick both grumbled that they would have had no trouble if you had been there, Bill.  You are their rabbit’s foot.”

“Righto sir.  I had better see them now and run them through a few things.”

I found Lieutenants Swan and Dunston playing darts in the mess.  They snapped to attention when I entered. I suddenly felt old for they both looked like schoolboys.  We had been so busy lately that I had not even introduced myself to them.

“I’m Captain Harsker and tomorrow you will be flying with me while we escort some bombers.”

They seemed not to hear the second part.  “I am Roger Swan sir and it is an honour to serve with you.”

I saw both of them looking at my medals. I would have to begin wearing overalls to hide them.  I found this hero worship a little uncomfortable. “Yes well it will be a difficult operation tomorrow as the BE 2 we will be escorting struggles to fly at more the seventy miles per hour. The Germans have all the time in the world to shoot them down. How many hours have you had in the Gunbus?”

Lieutenant Dunston said, eagerly, “I have ten hours!”

I was impressed, “In a Gunbus?”

He looked crestfallen. “Well no sir, that was in a trainer, an Avro.  We both have an hour in a Gunbus.”

I tried to keep the fear from my voice. “And have you flown with a gunner in the front before now?”

“Er no, sir.  Does it make a difference?”

“Come with me, both of you. Get your flying helmets.” It was the middle of the afternoon and no one was flying.  I saw Sergeant McKay working on Holt’s aeroplane. “Is my bus finished?”

“All fuelled and ready to go.”

“Good I’m taking her up.” I looked at the two of them. “Right, Swan, get up front in the gunner’s cockpit.” Once he was there I showed him how to rig our rudimentary speaking tube. “Dunston, when I am aboard, give the propeller a spin.”

He looked appalled.  “Don’t the mechanics do that sir?”

I saw Sergeant McKay suppress a chuckle. “Just do it and stand back when you have done so.  One armed pilots aren’t much use out here.”

I climbed aboard and put on my helmet. “Contact!”

“Contact!”

The freshly serviced engine roared into life and I set her down the grassy runway. As soon as I got high enough I said.  “I am going to loop, hang on!”

I did a loop and I noticed that he gripped the cockpit for grim death.  When we flew straight and level I heard him give a nervous laugh. “That was fun sir!”

“Good then you will love this.  Take off the speaking tube and turn around.  I want you to imagine firing the rear Lewis gun.”

“You are joking sir!”

“I never joke about flying.  Just do it.” It was almost comical how long it took him.  I could see that he was totally petrified. He gripped the gun as though his life depended on it. I banked a little and he screamed. I shouted, “Shall we try a loop?”

“No sir, please!!!”

“Right, sit down and we will land.”

As soon as we landed he jumped out and vomited. “Right Dunston; get aboard. Swan when you have finished examining your lunch, turn the propeller!”

To be fair to Lieutenant Dunston he did not throw up but he looked a little green when we landed. As we walked back to the mess, much to the amusement of the ground crew, I said, “Now then what did you learn up there?”

“That I never want to be a gunner sir! They must be mad.”

“Oh we are.”

“You were a gunner, sir?”

“Oh yes.  I was a sergeant gunner and I was on the rear Lewis when a young officer like you two decided to do a loop!”

Lieutenant Swan looked incredulous, “How did you survive sir?”

“I hung on to the Lewis. Look after your gunner.  When he is on the rear Lewis fly as straight as you can.  Tell him when you are going to do violent manoeuvres.”

“Thank you sir.”

“What for?  This is just your first lesson.  We have to teach you how to change a magazine in the air and how to fly standing up and firing the rear Lewis.”

“Really?”

“Really, Lieutenant Dunston.” We had reached the mess. I sat them down at a table. “Now tomorrow I want you, Lieutenant Swan, to stick to my tail like glue.  You will be fifty feet behind me.  I don’t want you shredding your gunner on my propeller.  Dunston, you will be the same distance behind Swan.  We play follow my leader.  What I do, you do. Your gunner can fire at any target he sees but you can’t fire if I am in the way so don’t even think about it.  When we come back put both your gunners on the rear Lewis and watch for the Hun in the sun. You will have Lieutenant Hewitt behind you and he was a gunner too.  You should be in safe hands. If you survive tomorrow we will work on your other skills.”

“Right sir, and thank you.” They both looked shaken as they went to their quarters.

Charlie Sharp had been listening and he came over, “A harsh lesson for them, Captain Harsker.”

“I know Charlie but better here than with a Fokker trying to kill you.”

He nodded, “Yes sir.  There is no forgiveness in the skies.”

Holt and Carrick spent some time, over dinner, talking to the two young pilots.  I saw their hands demonstrating manoeuvres.  It would have been better had my two wing men been flying but we had no time for such luxuries.

The four flight commanders went over the maps for the raid.  We were heading for the area east of Warlencourt so I knew the location.  We were bombing a crossroads.  The Germans had stopped bringing trains close to the front.  We had wrecked the rails too many times for that. The problem we would have would be that we would be five miles behind enemy lines and the German squadrons would be over us like flies around a dunghill.

“Right Bill, I will fly to the south with Ted and his flight.  You take the north. I think five hundred feet above the bombers should give us an edge.”

“Yes sir but it is when we try to leave that we will have a problem.  They are faster than we are and much faster than the Fokker fodder we will be escorting.” Ted had become more confident in the last few months and now voiced his opinion.

“I know.”

“Why don’t we take them on and let the BE’s get a lead?” Ted nodded towards Bill’s Bullshit on the wall. We have double the firepower of the Fokker and it eliminates their speed advantage. We fly into them and then head home.  The technique Holt and Carrick used might work.  Stack the buses one above the other and make it hard for the Germans to get behind us.”