The loss of so many of the squadron’s experienced aircrew was a chance for Perys to inform the commanding officer of Martin’s ambitions. As a result, the ex-Heligan coachman was given the opportunity he had hoped for, although he would not initially be flying with Perys. He was allocated to an experienced pilot for the same reason that Perys flew with an experienced observer.
The first two operational flights undertaken by Perys posed no problems. He photographed a section of the German trench system that was well established and had few anti-aircraft defences.
His third flight was very different. A pilot sent to photograph a particularly sensitive section of the German lines had failed to return from his mission and was presumed to have been shot down. As this part of the line featured in a planned assault, it was essential that a full set of photographs be obtained. Perys was detailed to carry out the task attempted by the missing man.
In view of the importance attached to the information sought by army headquarters, Perys was given an escort of four ‘Longhorns’. Two flew above him to guard against enemy fighter planes, the other two below. One of these was in radio contact with the ground.
Despite the primitive and experimental nature of the equipment being used, the object of the radio link was to bring artillery fire to bear on any German anti-aircraft fire that posed a particular threat to the operation. Unfortunately, the radio aircraft was hit by German fire almost immediately and forced to abandon its assignment. Perys last saw it descending rapidly towards the British lines, trailing smoke.
As a result of the loss of this plane, the German anti-aircraft batteries were able to range upon Perys’s aeroplane without fear of retribution.
Their shooting was uncomfortably accurate. When one near miss threw the BE2c off course Perys decided to lose a thousand feet of height before resuming his photographic duties. It meant the photographs would need expert interpretation, but Perys decided this was preferable to remaining on course at the previous height and risking the loss of all the photographs, together with himself, his observer and the aeroplane.
The observer, a full lieutenant with considerably more experience than Perys, thought so too. He made this clear in the report he gave when they landed safely. In the mess later that evening he insisted on paying for Perys’s drinks, announcing to one and all that he would be happy to remain as Perys’s regular observer.
The lieutenant did remain with Perys for a few more days, but then he returned to England for a week’s leave. He was replaced by Martin Bray.
Chapter 42
Following Perys’s recommendation, Martin had spent a week flying as an observer with two different pilots. Their reports on his capabilities led to him being placed on acting observers’ duties with the squadron.
When he was allocated to Perys, it was immediately apparent to Major Kemp that the two formed a very effective team. On their first flight together they were photographing a section of the front-line when they were attacked by a German fighter plane.
Although the very nature of their sortie decreed they should maintain a steady course, the German pilot was an experienced and aggressive airman. Any attempt to ignore him would have proved fatal to the British fliers.
In an aerial duel that lasted for fifteen minutes, each pilot tried to manoeuvre himself into a favourable attacking position, without giving his adversary an advantage that would bring the conflict to a swift and fatal conclusion.
Both men were skilful pilots, and to the watching soldiers on the ground on both sides of the front-line, it was like witnessing a duel between two eagles engaged in a deadly territorial contest.
Then the German pilot made his first and only mistake. For a few moments his aeroplane flew above and behind his opponent, giving Martin a clear shot at him.
It was enough.
Half a drum of bullets tore through the fabric of the aeroplane beneath the German pilot’s seat. He was dead even before the plane began falling in a nose-down spiral.
Martin had downed his first enemy aircraft. It was a feat which earned both men a mention in dispatches. Martin’s proud letter to his parents at Tregassick Farm, informing them of the award, gave them their first indication that their son was now a flying man.
However, the encounter with the downed German had not been an entirely satisfactory experience for Perys. It made him more aware than ever before that the capabilities of the BE2c fell far short of those of the German aeroplane. His success, if not his very survival, was a result of the excellent instruction he had received from Nick Malloch, coupled with Martin’s accurate shooting. Most other RFC pilots would have been shot down in the first few minutes of the encounter.
He discussed the matter with Major Kemp a few evenings later, when the squadron commanding officer was giving Perys a lift into the nearby town to enjoy an unexpected twenty- four-hour break from flying due to bad weather which had closed in on the front.
‘The German aircraft are superior to our own aeroplanes,’ agreed the commanding officer. ‘I put in a report saying so to RFC headquarters weeks ago.’
‘It’s not only their aeroplanes,’ Perys persisted. ‘Our pilots are sent to France with little more than an elementary knowledge of battle tactics and aerobatics. The Germans not only have better aircraft, they have pilots who are more expert in handling them.’
‘Again, I agree with you,’ said Major Kemp, ‘but don’t exaggerate the flying skills of German pilots. Inexperience is responsible for the deaths of far more British pilots than the enemy, properly trained, a British pilot is more than a match for his German counterpart, whatever aeroplane he is flying - as you recently proved - but so far we have not had time to train them sufficiently before they’re needed urgently on operations. I know it’s wrong and a very senior RFC officer agrees with me. He is currently badgering the War Office to improve both recruiting and RFC training methods. He’s on the look-out for good instructors. If you would like to put some of your ideas into practice . . .’
Perys shook his head vigorously. ‘I’m not ready to take on training duties just yet. On the contrary. I’d like to take a more active role. I believe the formation of a number of fighter squadrons is being considered. Much as I enjoy being in your squadron, sir, I would like to volunteer to move to one of them.’
‘You don’t know how delighted I am to hear you say that, Perys. I have asked to be given one of these new fighter squadrons. The trouble is, the powers-that-be haven’t yet agreed on the type of aircraft they want, although it will probably be a single-seater. When they’ve finally made up their mind and the squadrons are formed, I expect to be given one. When that happens I’d like to take you with me - as one of my flight commanders.’
Perys could not hide his astonishment. ‘A flight commander? I’m not even a full lieutenant yet!’
‘Oh, hasn’t anyone told you? Your promotion came through a day or two ago. Besides, you have as much experience and more flying ability than any other pilot in the squadron - so you had better put up that extra pip when you get back to your billet.’
Some days later, still with the reconnaissance squadron, Perys was to witness an event that, although he was not aware of it at the time, would have a profound effect upon his private life.
He and Martin were making a routine reconnaissance flight behind the German lines, looking for any unusual movement that might indicate an imminent enemy attack. All seemed fairly quiet, with nothing out of the ordinary taking place. However, half-an-hour into the flight, Perys banked the aircraft and went lower, in order to evade shells from a German anti-aircraft battery which had gauged their height with uncomfortable accuracy.
As he levelled out once more, Martin turned in the forward cockpit and gestured downwards. His vision blocked by the lower wing, Perys banked again in order to see what had caught Martin’s attention.
Close to the ground a greenish smoky substance was being discharged from dozens of tube-like chimneys seemingly rooted in the ground. Drifting across no-man’s land to the allied trenches, the cloud so formed gradually became a blue-white mist.
‘Perhaps one of our artillery shells has started some sort of a fire!’
Martin’s shouted suggestion lacked conviction and Perys shook his head. Not until figures could be seen scrambling from the Allied trenches and fleeing for their lives did Perys realise what they were seeing.
‘It’s poison gas!’ he shouted.
He remembered hearing a rumour that a soldier taken prisoner by the British had disclosed that the German army intended using poison gas against the Allied armies. This information had been relayed up the line of command to the commander-in-chief, who dismissed it as deliberate scaremongering. He pointed out that the Germans were signatories to an international agreement forbidding the use of such a weapon in war. It would not be used.
Anti-aircraft fire was once more being directed at the BE2c with disturbing accuracy, but Perys banked the plane again in order to obtain a better view of the ominous, drifting cloud now gradually dispersing behind the Allied lines.
He reached a sudden decision. The commander- in-chief and his staff were wrong. What he and Martin were seeing was poison gas. He would land as quickly as possible and report what he had seen to the nearest command post.
* * *
Perys’s opinion of the significance of what he had seen was received with the same scepticism as the information imparted by the German prisoner. Frustrated, he took off again to make his report back at the airfield.
Within an hour it had been tragically confirmed that what Perys and Martin had seen was indeed poison gas. The troops they had seen fleeing were French colonial troops and their terrified abandonment of their position left a whole section of the advance trenches undefended. These were swiftly occupied by German troops, but the extent of their success seemed to have taken them by surprise. They failed to take full advantage of it by bringing up more troops and consolidating their gains immediately.
Nevertheless, it was only the tenacity and outstanding courage of Canadian troops, hastily deployed to contain the German advance, that prevented a far more serious situation develop-ing, despite many of these troops also suffering the effects of poison gas.
Among their number was a small platoon of British soldiers, engaged on an ammunition delivery detail. One of the soldiers in the platoon was Private Jimmy Rowe.
Chapter 43
It took Annie some days to work up the courage to go to the Rowe farm in order to break her news to them. She knew it would not be an easy thing to do and felt miserable about it. She was also aware that it would mean the end of her life-long friendship with Rose, Jimmy’s sister.
But once she had decided exactly what she would say to the Rowes she set out for their farm. Giving her parents no prior warning, she merely put on her coat and left Tregassick.
When her mother called after her to ask where she was going, Annie replied, ‘To the Rowe farm.’
To her mother’s shouted demands for an explanation, Annie would only reply that she would ‘know in due course’.
Walter, coming in from the fields, saw her disappearing along the track and hurried into the farmhouse to find out what was happening.
When Harriet told him, he at first shared her concern. Then, after giving it a few moments’ thought, he said, ‘Annie hasn’t had a letter from young Jimmy for some time. She’ll have been getting worried about him. She’s gone to see if the Rowes have heard from him.’ Smiling at his wife, he said, ‘That’s what our Annie’s up to, Harriet, you mark my words. Things are beginning to work out the way we want them to. I knew she’d come to her senses sooner or later. She’s finally got young Tremayne out of her system.’
Harriet did not share her husband’s confidence. She believed there was some other less acceptable explanation for Annie’s unexpected visit to the Rowe farm, but she kept her thoughts to herself.
* * *
When Annie arrived at the Rowe farm she walked into a household in a state of turmoil. When Winnie Rowe, Jimmy’s mother, saw her, she let out an anguished shriek. ‘Annie! Thank the Lord you’re here! But how did you get here so quickly? Charlie Clemo only set off on his horse to tell you half-an-hour ago.’
Charlie Clemo was a well-known Methodist minister on the local circuit. Puzzled, Annie asked, ‘To tell me what?’
‘Oh my dear soul, of course, you wouldn’t know. It’s our Jimmy.’
Guiltily aware of the reason she had come to the Rowe farmhouse, Annie said, apprehensively ‘Jimmy? He’s not . . . he’s not been killed?’
‘No, but he might well have been, from all accounts. The son of the doctor down at Fowey is in the same regiment. He’s an officer. He telephoned his father last night from London to say he’d been wounded, and to ask the doctor to come up and tell us about our Jimmy. He’s been wounded too - badly wounded. He’s in a hospital in London. The doctor said we were to tell you that Jimmy’s asking after you. He felt it would help him a lot if we was to take you up there to see him.’
This was the worst possible news Annie could have received. There could be no question now of saying what she had come to tell the family. Besides, she had known Jimmy all her life and was genuinely concerned for him. She suddenly felt inextricably trapped by the tragic and unexpected situation which had arisen.
‘You say he’s badly wounded . . . how badly?’
‘The doctor’s son said he’s been gassed. He’s also got shrapnel wounds - one in his head. He said Jimmy can’t see right now, although I don’t know whether or not that’s because he has a bandage covering his eyes, or something. But now you’re here we can go and catch a train right away, Annie. Me and Rose were only waiting for you to arrive. Jimmy’s pa will stay on to look after the farm.’
‘But . . . I can’t go dressed like this. Besides, what about Ma and Pa . . .’ Annie felt a desperate need to think about what was happening.
‘I’ll get word to them. Have a message telephoned through to Polly at Heligan. At such a time as this I’m sure the old housekeeper up there won’t choose to be difficult. Come on now, we’ll take some of Rose’s night-clothes for you. A change of dress, too. You and she are much the same size.’