1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) (16 page)

BOOK: 1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3)
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“Right sir.”

“And you are my wingman today so Reg you will be on the rear Lewis all the way home!”

Once we were in the air Lumpy said, “He’ll be fine sir.  He has his head screwed on.  They are a funny pair.  Mr Giggs is as posh as they come and Reg comes from a tiny house in Leeds.  They get on though.”

“Good.”

As we headed towards the front I noticed some explosions to the north east of the front.  “We’ll head towards the action today.  Better arm the Lewis.”

I glanced down at the map and saw that it looked like an attack in the Delville Wood area.  It was not far from Pozières; a place we knew well.

“Keep your eyes peeled for fighters and balloons.”

“The sky looks empty, sir.”

It did but that could be deceptive. There was little point in gaining altitude. A bombing and strafing run were better at a lower altitude but I was acutely aware of the potential for a Hun in the sun. As we neared the woods I saw brown uniforms, not marching in lines but darting forward close to the village of Longueval.  I later found out they were South Africans and Rhodesians.  They were trying to use whatever cover they could.  The Germans had mortars and machine guns and it was a killing ground.

“Sergeant we will fly over the woods and see if we can spot anyone.”

“Righto sir.”

I lifted the nose and climbed a little so that when I dived I would have a few extra knots of airspeed. I wanted to make us a difficult target to hit. I aimed the aeroplane towards the centre of the woods. As we screamed down the air was filled with small arms fire. Most of it seemed to fly through the empty fuselage. As we climbed on the other side Hutton said, “I think I saw them sir.  If you fly the reverse of this course but two hundred feet further west we should be able to get them.”

“Good man.  One bomb run or two?”

“Two and I have a couple of Mills Bombs so we might manage three.” He was irrepressible.

This time the Germans would be ready.  I cocked the Lewis gun and, as we zoomed down, I began to fire short bursts.  I could see nothing but trees.  I just assumed that there would be Germans beneath the green canopy. I saw Hutton holding one bomb in his left hand while his right was held over the side. He didn’t drop the bomb, he threw it and then deftly switched the other bomb from his left to right and threw that.  He then grabbed his Lewis and began to fire down at the ground.  I lifted the nose and he continued to fire until his magazine was empty.

I began to bank. I saw the explosions throw branches and trees into the air.  Giggs had done as I said and as he flew across the woods the debris was falling to the ground.  There was a longer gap between Reg’s throws but it was a good attempt to hit the target.  I swung the nose around for a second run.  The four bombs had made a hole in the middle of Delville Wood and Sergeant Hutton and I could see the damage we had caused already.

I opened fire again.  Hutton did not make quick throws this time he actually aimed.  He threw the first one and there was a gap before he hurled the second. As he began to fire his gun there was an almighty explosion. We began to climb and he said, as he changed his magazine. “Ammunition sir!”

Banking around I saw that Giggs and his gunner were flying lower.  They had more confidence this time.  The two bombs threw trees into the air and the sky over the woods was filled with smoke and debris.  “Time to go home, sergeant.  If you get the opportunity drop your grenades.”

“Righto sir.”

I did not fire my Lewis.  We were heading for the advancing South African soldiers. I didn’t want any of them struck by a stray bullet. I kept us low and Hutton suddenly hurled one of the Mills Bombs and then a few seconds later the other. He quickly fired the machine down the length of the trench.  We had noticed that these were not the deep tranches we had explored. The ones they were using were hastily constructed and Sergeant Hutton could not miss. As we passed over the South African Division we heard their cheers.  I waggled the wings and Hutton waved cheerily. It had been a good mission.

As we neared the airfield I could see the work which Bert and his men had done.  There were pits in which the artillery was setting up guns.  They were not huge pieces but they would deter any German bombers.  The extensions to the buildings were clearly visible and it looked like another barracks was being erected.  We would be snug for winter.  Now we just needed Mr Doyle to make good on his promise of furniture.

“A proper home from home now, eh sir?”

“It is indeed, Sergeant Hutton. It is indeed.”

Chapter 11

Lieutenant Giggs and his gunner were animated when they joined me.  “What did Sergeant Hutton hit with his second bomb sir?”

“Ammunition I think.”

Giggs nodded, “You were right sir.  I can see how that makes a difference to the troops on the ground.  We could hear their cheers as we flew over them. Why don’t we carry bombs more often, sir?”

“It slows us down and if they are hit by German machine guns the crew tend to be spread all over France!”

“Ah.  Still, it might be handy to carry a couple of grenades like Sergeant Hutton.”

“Now that is a good idea.”

I wandered over to the Engineers.  I saw Bert straight away.  He was stripped to the waist and handling a sledgehammer as though it was a child’s toy.  He had put on a great deal of muscle since he had joined up. His officer who was watching snapped to attention when he saw me approaching.

“Carry on, I just want a word with my brother if that is all right with you, lieutenant?”

“Of course sir. Hargreaves, take over from Harsker.”

Bert pulled a cigarette from behind his ear and lit it. “You got back safe then?”

“Aye, I did.”

“Your two chums, Gordy and Ted, were chatting to me about you.  You are quite the hero aren’t you?”

“Don’t you start, as well.”

He shook his head, “No I just wanted to say that I always looked up to you and you were a bit of a hero to me but I am so proud of you now because you are a genuine hero.  It makes what we do seem like nothing.”

I turned to face him.  “Now don’t think that way.  We are all part of one big team. I happen to know that what you do, digging mines and laying explosives under the enemy’s lines is far braver and more courageous than anything I do.  I know that the newspapers don’t see it that way but what do they know?  The journalists are safely sitting in Fleet Street while other poor sods are getting killed.”

He laughed, “Watch out, you sound just like our Tom and John.”

“Maybe I am it’s just that I don’t see the upper classes as the enemy.  I see incompetent generals and newspaper men who make all of this sound glorious. It is not glorious to fall in a ball of flame.  It is not noble to spiral five thousand feet and hit the ground. It is a tragedy that the finest young men in Great Britain are being slaughtered.  The fat cats at home are reaping the reward of their sacrifice.”

“Do want a hand to get down our kid?”

“What?”

“From your soapbox! We can’t change things.  Dad taught us that.  We just make the best of what we have.”

“Well, perhaps, when this madness is over we can change the world a little.”

“Mebbe.  Anyway I’ll get back to work.  I’ll see you later.”

Just then Bates approached, “Sir, your bath is getting cold!”

“I’ll be right there Bates.”

Bert began to laugh, “Why you two faced bugger! You have a servant and you want to change things! That’s rich.”

I smiled, “Perhaps, later, I will tell you what I do want to change.”

In the end I did not get much chance to chat with Bert.  After dinner, just as I was making my way to the Engineers’ camp I heard the drone of an approaching aeroplane.  I recognised the sound.  It was a Fokker! The duty sergeant had heard it too and he rang the bell for air raid.  Everyone flooded out of the messes. Archie said, “How many?”

“I can just hear one, sir.  It is German and it is coming from the east.  I would guess a Fokker D11.”

“You have heard more than most I will take your word for it.”

The sentries had their rifles aimed at the sky.  Twenty four hours later and we would have had guns in place to fire at them but tonight we were helpless. It was hard to see the Fokker against the cloudless sky. I heard the crack of rifles as the sentries saw the shape.  I didn’t have the heart to tell them it was a waste of bullets.  They needed to be doing something. I heard Sergeant Lowery shout, “He’s dropped something!”

All of us hit the ground.  A bomb thrown at a crowd of men could be devastating. All we heard was a thud and then the sound of the Fokker began to recede.  It was going east.  What was all that about? The sentries continued to waste ammunition and take pot shots as it droned towards the east. We had had a lucky let off.  If there had been more of them or if he had had a bomb then our milling around would have enabled him to wipe out most of the pilots of our squadron in one fell swoop.

One of the sentries ran to the object and brought it to Archie. Someone shouted, “Watch out sir! It could be a bomb!”

“Don’t be daft laddie! It would have gone off.  Let’s get it inside the mess and have a wee look at this.”

The officers headed for our mess.  The disappointed sergeants and engineers excluded from the examination stood around, a murmur of conversation and glowing cigarettes marking their position.

As we walked into the light I saw that it was a white flying scarf around a rock. It seemed a strange weapon. Inside the mess Archie slowly undid the scarf.  There was an air of anticipation as he revealed the rock. He held it and began to examine it. He held it to his ear and he shook it. “Perhaps they are running out of bullets?” Everyone laughed.

Randolph looked at the white scarf and laid it out. It was a silk scarf and looked expensive.  He said, “Sir, there is a letter.” He slowly unfolded it and laid it on the table before us. He opened it and began to read,

To the commander of Squadron 41

Sir,

I send this to the pilot who flies the aeroplane with the rearing horse. You are the best pilot in the RFC.  Yesterday you killed my squadron leader, Otto.  I challenge you to a duel in the skies above the front.  I will meet you over No-Man’s Land south of Delville Wood.  I shall be there at dawn.

Oblt. Stephan Kirmaier

Jasta 2

Everyone turned and looked at me. “Fine English,” said Captain Marshall.

Archie turned to me, “Your fame is spreading.  You have got under the Oberlieuteant’s skin.”

Ted lit a cigarette, “What a maroon; as though anyone would be daft enough to meet him at dawn.  They will probably have the whole squadron waiting.”

Jamie Carstairs said, quite passionately, “Oh no, sir.  He sounds like an honourable man.  He mentions a duel.  You must meet him sir. Honour demands it.”

Gordy laughed, “Honour my arse! Captain Harsker is not going are you, Bill?”

“Of course not.  Just because this German pilot is deranged is no reason to join in the madness.”

Freddie said, “That must have been the chap with the red propeller you shot down the other day.”

“He wasn’t anything special.”

Freddie continued, no sir but do you remember that madman with the red jagged line who tried to take us all on?  I bet this chap was him.”

“You may be right. Do you mind, sir, if I have this for a souvenir?”

“Of course but first we send it to Headquarters. This is valuable intelligence. It gives us the name of a senior pilot and the name of the squadron.”

I nodded, “Righto.”

Jamie spent the rest of the evening trying to persuade me to fight.  Eventually Gordy sent him to bed. “God, it’s like being the parent of a naughty child.  This is good practice for when Mary and I have children.”

“Steady on, old man, you aren’t even married yet.”

He put his arm around my shoulders. “Don’t forget, Captain Harsker, I am not the only one in the situation.  I’ll tell you what, I’ll be your best man if you’ll be mine!”

Ted said, indignantly, “What about me?  Am I invisible?”

“When we are certain that you know what a woman is we will include you!”

We bantered and joked through half a bottle of whisky and I went to bed quite happily. I had been quite taken with the thought that the Germans thought I was the best pilot.  I didn’t but I had been noticed and that was no mean feat. Bates had turned down my covers and placed a glass of water and whisky next to my bed.  I saw my clean uniform laid out for the morning.  I realised I was getting used to being pampered and I liked it.

I had a dream.  I normally dreamed but could not remember them.  This one I could. I was young and we had gone on a day trip to Blackpool. I was on the ride called "The River Caves of the World." We were underground and the ride was buffeting against the sides of the water.  I saw our Bert fall into the water but I couldn’t help him.  I tried to shout but now words came out.  I suddenly sat bolt upright in bed. I was sweating.  I took the glass of whisky and drank it down in one.  It burned as it went down. Suddenly I thought I heard a noise.  I shook my head and looked out of the window.  It was not even dawn. Then I heard the unmistakeable sound of a Gunbus being started.  Someone was flying… and it was not even dawn.

BOOK: 1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3)
3.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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