Wings of War and Glory - Chapter 7: Heavy Bird
November 28, 1915
The wind subsided suddenly over the front. And the weather got better with sunny cold days and no clouds. Then yesterday the orders arrived. I had to escort one of the new big bombers to make a bomb run into a small village where the French high command was secretly meeting. The information was very accurate and we had a small window of opportunity. A big fat and strange new kind of bomber landed in our aerodrome in the late afternoon and was promptly hidden under a green and brown net. We almost weren't able to inspect the big bird. I would go with a chosen wingman and would get first at the bombing scene to clean the air for its passage. I chose Leutnant Thorsten Müller to accompany me. We started our engines before the morning broke the cold darkness of late Autumn.
"Can I take my plane, Rittmeister Schlesinger?!" "You can Joachim. It's a calculated risk. This is a very important mission. If we can take the heads of the French army in just one blow, the war can be over by Christmas." "I don't really believe in that, sir..." "Who told you we have to believe in it?! We're soldiers! We have to do it as if we believed it!" "Jawohl, sir!"
We arrived at the destination point early in the morning. We saw four Sauliers guarding the air space above the small village and that hinted us that the information was probably real. I pointed them to Thorsten and he signed back to me. We had spoke earlier in how we would handle this.
The Frenchmen saw us immediately. I was expecting that. They would be watching the air around them carefully. We had to move them away from the bomber's path.
We've tilted left, perfectly coordinated. The Frenchmen came at us quickly in a tight formation.
I got worried when one of them detached slightly from the squadron.
And then we faced them. This must count, I said to myself, let's make this count.
Both the leading French fighters fired at us. The one that fired at me failed miserably. But Thorsten was badly mauled. We've both fired back.
Both against the leading man, I assumed that he was the commander. But we failed to connect.
Then we moved past each other and I looked left to see the fourth plane moving to fire against us. That, I thought, was a dangerous foe.
He fired at me, but did no damage at all. The deflection, speed and his own companions making the shot very difficult.
We both reversed behind the three of them, but the fourth was able to sneak between us. Good pilot, that Frenchman!
He fired a perfect shot against Thorsten almost downing him with that shot.
But finally we managed to secure a good position.
We both fired at one of the scouts making good damage. I looked right and I saw Thorsten fighting with his machine gun. Lady Luck was playing with us.
And then the heavy bomber arrived. Slow and ponderous. It was a Siemens-Schuckert RII. Last night in conversation its pilot said that this was the first bombing operation the plane was doing. I said nothing but was a bit worried about this mission being given to an untested aircraft. But his words about the bomb load were reassuring. "They're double the weight of the bombs an Ursinus can carry" he told me. And we left it at that.
The French scouts reaction was quick. They knew where the danger laid. That gave us respite, but I had to do things quickly to be able to save the bomber.
The French squadron leader was quick about firing at the bomber.
The gunner at the bomber's unique machine gun fired back but jammed the weapon almost immediately.
I was luckier and kept pounding at the wounded French scout.
A quick flash in his engine declared him shot down. I lost no time watching him falling down. I was in the middle of three more French scouts that by now had seen the important and easy prey.
We've all maneuvered in a cold and dry detachment. I locked my eyes on another French scout. Thorsten signaled me that he was leaving and the Frenchmen went for the big hunt.
The best of them fired a long perfect stray of bullets that raked the bomber.
I went past him and fired against the other Scout and luck was on my side this time because the Saulnier burst into flames.
The other Frenchmen regrouped. Thorsten left the dogfight and the fire was raging wild across the Saulnier.
Then my weapons jammed. But not before I gave the merciful coup on the burning Frenchman.
It fell burning to the ground like a falling star. I wished that the pilot was already dead.
I was frantically trying to unjam my weapons and as I passed near the bomber I saw the gunner making me a sign of thanks. Stop that and clear your weapon already, I thought.
The two remaining scouts were coming at us.
One of them fired at the bomber but without any success.
The other one fired at me and jammed my controls. Damn! Weapons jammed! Controls jammed! Wingman out of the combat! This mission was going more and more to the wrong side of things...
Then the damn gunner start firing again but missing it all together. I've cursed him, but felt wrong about it in the next minute. It was a brave thing to be inside that giant filled with bombs at the mercy of the enemy scouts.
And then as I was doing a reverse the French ace fired a solid burst against the bomber and flames erupted from it. Damn! Thrice damn luck I shouted. And my guns unjammed at that very moment.
The gunner fired back but I guess that being on a flaming plane doesn't work wonders about one's marksmanship.
The bomber turned sharply right trying to put out the fire that was eating its canvas. Fire damage was visible from where I was standing. Would it be able to put out that fire and finish the mission?
The Scout kept firing at it.
And at least the brave gunner kept firing at the scout.
But the fire kept doing damage to the bomber and the solid resolve abandoned the crew. They dropped the bomb load to be able to escape. I decided to cut the path of the French scouts.
They kept firing relentlessly.
And before it went down, the fire damaged even more the bomber. But they were able to maintain control and turning it back to our lines.
The Frenchmen seemed to start retreating, their job done.
Then the irony of it. After jettisoned the bomb load, the fire was put down and the gunner shot down a French scout! If only the bomb load was still on board...
This Frenchman may have been lucky. Crashing into a lake...
I don't know if it was anger that made the other French Scout turn back. But he did. At that moment I was caught by surprise as I was preparing to leave the battle, the bomber already turning home.
I made a reverse and I saw the Scout coming at us.
He moved against me quickly.
He fired at me hitting my plane squarely.
I tried to cut his path to get away from his cross-hairs.
And then I felt the bullets cutting my body, hot and cold at the same time, a sensation of agony and displacement. I heard myself admonishing me into staying awake. I felt the hot humid sensation of blood under my clothes. "In order to stay alive", I said loud to myself, "one must land in one piece." And I repeated it over and over.
I've turned as sharply as I could. I couldn't let my plane fall into enemy hands. The twin synchronized machine guns were a prize too great to give it so quickly to the enemy.
The French maneuver gave me time to regroup.
I couldn't crash. If I had to fall, at least I would fall into the arms of a beautiful nurse I shouted loud, half crazy with pain. And then I laughed at the thought.
I said farewell to my brave French enemy and I kept laughing until I landed in our aerodrome. Thorsten ran to help me getting out of my plane. "Ten!", I shouted and I've passed away still laughing.
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by gully_raker
Bookmarks