“He wants us to do what? “Oberfeldwebel Arnulf Biermann said in disbelief, wiping his hands on his overalls leaving black streaks in their wake.
“You heard me the first time, check every single bullet you load in to Von Machin’s machine!” Feldwebel Thedor Von Adler said testily, he hated dealing with the mechanics, vital for the Jasta but it wasn’t as if they were risking their lives every day and he looked down in disgust at the oily stains on Arnulf’s overalls.
“But that’s going to take forever and with this lot.” sweeping his hand across the workshop at the aircraft that were in various states of repair. Anulf had long suspected that the pompous Von Alder hated dealing with the ground crews and took great delight in winding him up by speaking guttural Bremen that he knew he had trouble understanding.
Him and his boys would often work in to the small hours or pull 72 hour shifts to make sure that the Jasta had enough planes to fly the sorties required of them and he felt that they preformed nothing short of miracles.
The request was sound enough, Von Machin seemed to have his unfair share of stoppages and only last week when adjusting the guns aim it had worked perfectly until he had sat in the cockpit to test it and on the second burst the gun had jammed.
He respected his Oberleutnant, whom didn’t seem to care about heritage and would often go out of his way to reward his men for a job well done or find some way to repay them for their efforts. He ran a tight shop, strict but fair and you couldn’t help but like the man. He was a natural leader.
Von Alder turned his nose up and walked out of the hangar. “Just get it done and that’s an order!”
Alnulf smiled as he pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped the reminder of the grease on it, he long suspected that the ammunition was at fault and he had played along with Von Machin’ request to ditch his Fokker’s LMG behind enemy lines as he knew these pilots were a superstitious lot.
He had put a complaint in to the Quartiermeister but had been told that all supplies were in perfect working order and that it must have been handled or stored incorrectly and that had been the end getting something done about it.
Going through every single crate and checking each bullet was going to be a real pain, fortunately he had just the man for the job.
“Emmerich, I have a nice little job for you.” He called, unable to keep the mirth from his voice. Today was turning out to be a pretty good day Anulf thought to himself.
Oberleutnant Jacob Von Machin had called the members of tomorrow’s sortie behind enemy lines in to the briefing room.
“Right as you know by now a main offensive will start tomorrow morning. Ground forces of the 5th Army will strike here, here and here along the front and will try to break though in at least one of the sectors on the hills north of Verdun-sur-Meuse”. Von Machin tapped each area with his cane.
“They will also attack here on the bank of the Meuse with the hope that it will force the French in to a counter attack and commit troops.” His cane tapped again as he pointed to the locations on the map, the men studied their maps intensively, each making their own notes in the margins and hushed voices conferred or asked questions deemed unimportant to disrupt Von Machin as he went through the plan.
“Our job is a reconnaissance mission in this sector here.” Tap.
“5th Army believes that the Région Fortifiée de Verdun and the Second Army Garrison have their Headquarters located at three possible locations, here, here or hear.” Tap, tap, tap.
“Command also wants photos of any heavy artillery pieces in the area.” Tap.
Ltn. Gerhardt Reiher raised his hand and Von Machin nodded at him. “If it is a staging area there could be hundreds, do they want a photograph of each?”
“No just anything active in area, if it gets too intense up there just take a photograph of the HQ and a count of active artillery, the HQ is the primary object! You must get a photograph of it!”
Reiher looked relieved and hurriedly made some notes on his map.
“We will be flying again in conjunction with Oberleutnant von Biettrutoffen’s boys who will be flying ahead of us to clear the target site of barrage balloons, they may still be there when we arrive so make sure you don’t get an itchy trigger finger and shoot down one of our own!”
It was Ltn. Werner Taube who raised his hand next and Von Machin pointed his cane at him.
“Taube, are you sure you can fit in your Fokker? Your wife seems to have plumped you back up again while you were on leave!”
“No sir it was my mother in law, she was worried I’d get cold up there.” Taube quipped back while patting his stomach.
The room erupted in laughter.
“What’s our role in all this?” The atmosphere in the room was all business again.
“Our job is to provide cover, enemy fighters are our priority.After that you’re free to mop up any balloons Biettrutoffen’s boys leave us. But we need this all wrapped up by the time the main push starts, any more questions?”
Von Machin paused long enough for anyone to pose a serious question or concern.
“Good, make sure you all get a good night’s sleep, Dismissed.”
He lent against the desk wondering how things would turn out tomorrow, it was the biggest combined assault they had been part of to date and like most things, it would probably all go to hell once the shooting started.
12 hours Later
“Observers report heavy fog over the target area” Von Machin said address the men beside their machines
“So it’s off?” asked Ltn. Gerhardt Reiher, who’s task it would be to photograph the targets.
“No word yet from command, we’ll go up and hope that it either burns off or we get lucky with a sneak peek.” He saluted his men and climbed in to the machines.
The green flare streaked in to the air and the planes roared down the airfield.
Just finding the sector had been hard enough, but a lucky break in the fog over the river Meuse and the scarred remains of the Notre Dame Cathedral and the citadel that overlooked it stark reminders of what happened here in 1914 put them in the right area.
Vzfw Andre Krähe was pleased he had Von Machin and Taube flying in formation either side of him, it didn’t come as a surprise that either men had volunteered for today sortie. He hoped that Oberleutnant von Biettrutoffen’s boys would be up to the task on taking out the Barrage balloons.
He was glad of the fog though, reports of heavy infantry formations meant constant ground fire and not only from Tommy down there in the mud. Infantry had a hatred for airmen and would open up on anything that flew; more often than not they would shoot at their own. Even wrapped up in his warm furs he shivered.
“I shouldn’t dwell on that kind of thing, its tempting fate.” Krähe thought to himself.
The three barrage balloons stood out in stark contrast to the fog below and Von Machin was unaware of any other aircraft in the area until he spotted the markings on a sole Eindecker as it passed in front of the most southerly balloon. He hoped that more had stuck around to lend a hand.
As they drew closer two enemy Morane-Saulnier single seater scouts emerged from behind the most northerly balloon. Von Machin loaded his flare gun with a red shell and fired it in to the air signifying to attack.
Both Taube and Krähe looked up as it soared up and away then back over to Von Machin.
Von Machin was s chopping his hand in the direction of the enemy and Krähe passed on the signal to Taube once they had both acknowledge Von Machin banked his plane over to intercept the enemy.
Ltn. Wilhelm Struddelhoff saw the 3 German planes from a far and was glad of the company; it wouldn’t be too long before Tommy sent up some scouts to spoil his fun. He was running low on ad fuel and he gauged that he had enough for one more pass on the string of barrage balloons before he’d need to turn tail and head for home. He just hoped he’d be finished up before anyone showed up.
2nd Ltn. Stanley Sumpter was on edge, he’d been half way through his breakfast of tea and crumpets when the alarm had sounded and he and 2nd Ltn. Frederick Drummond had been scrambled to intercept a lone fighter that was attacking the barrage line above infantry headquarters north of Verdun-sur-Meuse, he had only just returned from the infirmary and was eager to get back in the fight, however he was still haunted by the events on the 22nd of March.
As he scanned the fog banks he spotted the scouts, only it wasn’t a lone fighter, but 2 escorting what looked like a Rumpler or Roland, signaling to Freddy they ducked under the barrage balloons and turned in to the enemy flight.
Ltn. Wilhelm Struddelhoff was oblivious to the two enemy Morane-Saulnier scouts that had arrived. Pushing hard on the yaw pedals and pulling back on the stick, he almost put the Eindecker in to a stall as he brought the barrage balloon in to his sights and fired, grazing the balloon. He was about to curse his luck when suddenly a blue haze rippled across the surface of the balloon which then flared orange and yellow as the fire took hold.
2nd Ltn. Stanley Sumpter knew he had made a mistake as soon as he emerged from under the balloon, he was hoping the enemy flight would break formation allowing him and Freddy to pick them off one at a time, however all that greeted him was a hell storm of lead as all three aircraft opened up on him.
He suddenly felt the yoke go slack in his hand which was soon forgotten as acrid black smoke started pouring from the cowling on his machine. He cursed the Germans as he jammed his thumbs down on the trigger of his own guns praying that he would at least take one of them down with him.
As soon as they had appeared the German flight was gone as they roared past each other. Stanley let out a deep breath; he couldn’t believe he had come through that pretty much intact. “By gods that could have been a lot worse!” he muttered.
Ltn. Gerhardt Reiher swiveled his gun in to position and let off a volley on the passing Morane-Saulnier scout, he loved everything about aerial combat, apart from when his bloody gun jammed on him at the most inopportune moments.
“Oh Scheiße” Von Machin cursed as he spotted the other Eindecker bearing down on him. He was trapped on all sides and hoped that the other men would take action if he just kept going. Seizing the chance he fired in to the balloon as it raced towards him.
2nd Ltn. Stanley Sumpter rudder was not responding properly, he need to get back in the fight and fast before the Germans brought down the whole barrage line. Pulling back on the stick he watched the ghostly white horizon disappear and as he felt himself become weightless he rolled his aircraft level.
Straight away he spotted an enemy aircraft presenting itself for the perfect shot and he opened fire by instinct and saw his tracer rounds smoke off and strike the Eindecker along its fuselage and tail section.
Struddelhoff didn’t see the enemy scout, his world was full of aircraft and he desperately tried to find a way out of melee of planes, suddenly he felt the yoke stiffen in his hands and then go slack when he tried to push it to his right. “Enough, was enough. Time to go home.” he thought to himself.
Vzfw Andre Krähe looked back in disbelief, how the hell had they gotten through that mess without hitting anyone he would never know and he had passed so close to the observation balloon that he could see the expression on the poor fools faces.
Reiher had shouted over the roar of the engine and wind that he had jammed the gun so Andre decided to keep the plane as stable as possible to help him clear the stoppage; it also gave him the perfect opportunity to put some more holes in the southerly balloon with deadly accuracy.
Stanley’s blood was up, he wasn’t going down without a fight and with the Hun flying in such close formation it was impossible to miss, he tracked the beige Fokker and was about to open fire when it suddenly dived and there in front of him was that bastard whom had shot him down back In March, no other aircraft had such distinct markings and he gritted his teeth as he pushed the trigger raking the enemy with accurate fire.
Andre Krähe could feel the heat of the balloon even at this distance and as he swung his plane around to avoid the Ae800 balloon that was eating itself up in the raging fire. Looking down he had noticed that the fog like the balloon was burning away and through a break in the carpet of fog he spotted the target north of his position.
2nd Ltn. Frederick Drummond felt he was chasing his own tail, just when he had spotted one of the Germans scouts another would buzz passed him and draw his attention, since his first crash landing he had developed a slight twitch, but due to the need of experienced pilots he’d been cleared for active duty he felt anything but ready or active when he’d strapped himself in to his aircraft and he’s nearly crashed on takeoff.
As he turned his plane into a tight turn to look for another enemy plane he came head to head with an enemy Eindecker, by impulse his thumbs hit the trigger switch and his gun jumped to life at the same instance the enemy did.
Struddelhoff braced himself as the bullets leaped from his guns, he didn’t see the incoming rounds but he felt them strike his plane. Smoke started billowing from his engine and just as he was about to yank back on the yoke to avoid colliding with the incoming plane it suddenly broke apart, the wings tearing off at the fuselage and he and the plane dropped like a stone earthward bound.
Von Machin watched the enemy scout tumble out of view and switched his attention to the most northerly balloon, he knew how valuable these were to both sides and bringing one down was another step closer to winning the war. He saw the balloon undulate where the bullets struck home but he knew it would take a lot more to bring it down.
Reiher had finally got his gun unjammed and leaned over and shouted in Krähe’s ear to let him know that he was back in action and to make sure it was all in working order he let rip in to the closest balloon. Krähe banked his aircraft over and headed towards their primary target.
Struddelhoff decided to have one last shot at the balloon before heading home, he pulled the trigger and nothing he was finally out and although he would have at least liked to have one more kill to his name it was better to be a living hero than a dead one and started mentally plotting a course home.
Von Machin fired another volley at the balloon, oblivious to the bent piece of linkage that passed through the gun unchallenged.
Reiher was having fun, shooting the balloons from the observation position was easy and he was rewarded when another section of balloon burst in to flames, but he knew he was going to need to get ready for the real reason he was here and went to work preparing the camera.
The AE 800 rushed over Von Machin’s head in a brown blur, pulling back on the stick he brought the nose of his Eindecker up and finally over as the engine strained against the effort. As he span the plane upright there was a loud thud, the type you feel deep in your belly and scanning around he saw the telltale black smudge in the sky where the AA artillery round had exploded.
Racing back towards the balloon he open fired again, rewarded with visible holes and gashes on the surface of the balloon, they crept up and around the surface of the balloon as its weight slowly started to tear the balloon apart and he watched with satisfaction when the balloon finally dropped from the sky.
Reiher only just heard Vzfw Andre Krähe’s warning and looking up from his work spotted the enemy scout racing towards them. Seizing the Parabellum MG14 he swung it round to face the oncoming threat, he pulled the trigger bracing himself for the recoil that never came.
2nd Ltn. Stanley Sumpter watched as the enemy plane banked right in front of him, leading the target he pushed the trigger and watched as bits of debris came off the target, he cursed his luck however when the guns suddenly fell silent and immediately he went to work clearing the stoppage.
It had been a long cold morning and Cpl Elmer Tilton was thinking about the hot bacon sandwich and mug of tea he’d have in front of the fire once he got back to the aerodrome, it had been an uneventful morning, the fog had obscured everything from view and they had no idea if they had actually been over the target site or not.
That had all changed now, he could tell that something was up well before he could see the enemy aircraft, one balloon was gone and another was blazing so brightly it competed with the morning sun. “That would teach me to day dream of bacon sandwiches.” he thought to himself.
Sgt.Ernest Meek was scanning the sky around them ever on the lookout for that black dot that may or may not turn out to be a Fokker, he was dog tired and last week he had been the butt of the jokes when he had thought they were being tailed for over an hour only to realize it had been a speck of oil on his goggles.
That didn’t matter right now though, on their return leg they had passed over enemy positions that were clearly visible now the fog had burnt off and it was obvious that the Germans were massing for a big push that was imminent.
He’d even got some photographs they needed to let command know, now.
Ltn. Taube spotted the BE2c as he emerged from under the balloon and he aimed his aircraft towards it unaware of the danger bearing down on him.
Waiting for the enemy plane to present a better target Stanley Sumpter bore down on the unsuspecting Fokker. The anticipation was too much however and fired off a long range shot.
A searing pain streaked up Taube’s body and he looked down to see a piece of wood sticking out from his flight jacket. A piece of the wood that surrounded the cockpit and been blasted off and had torn all the way through his flight jacket and underclothes, he knew he was bleeding as he could feel the warmth it left he decided to leave the splinter where it was and desperately looked for his attacker.
Krähe cleared the barrage line and raced towards the target, black smudges suddenly puffed up around them like dandelion clocks from a warped children’s novel. He jixed and wove the plane through the air almost erratically making them a harder target for the enemy AA positions situated below. In the midst of the air battle everyone was obvious to the most southerly balloon exploding, only the poor troops underneath the burning wreckage cared.
Racing towards the enemy plane Ltn. Taube lined up his crosshairs on the BE2c and pushed the trigger. He watched as his bullets walked up the fuselage rigging chunks out of the tail. Seeing his wingman effect fire at long range Von Machin opened fire also.
Sgt.Ernest Meek tracked the green Eindecker as it swopped past unleashing a hail of bullets and as he panned 90 degrees following his target he saw too late the 2nd aircraft bearing down with guns blazing.
6km away Krähe was enjoying the relative quiet, he constantly panned around looking for any threat as his observer lent over the side of the aircraft to peer through the lens of the camera. He had to turn up the volume of their internal communications device as Reiher had a tendency to drop his voice when concentrating.
“Got it!” Reiher shouted making Krähe jump and the plane bucked slightly as his natural reactions where transmitted through the flight controls. Turning the plane towards the secondary objective Krähe hoped that the AA artillery would remain silent for a while longer.
Ernest Meek ducked as the Eindecker loomed huge over him; it was so close he could see the valves on the wheel rims slowly rotating in the. Just as he pressed the trigger Von Machin yanked back on the yoke to avoid colliding with the enemy plane, his shots didn’t go wasted though as they slammed in to the passing enemy scout.
Cursing his luck Meek started working clearing the stoppage in his gun and watched as the enemy plane fire effectively in to the Morane-Saulnier off to his starboard side. Black smoke trialed from the stricken planes engine, which suddenly burst in to flames.
2nd Ltn. Stanley Sumpter knew the game was up as flames started to lick though the oily black smoke pouring from the cowling and pushing the yoke forward he put his plane in to a dive, in the hope that it would either put the fire out or he could ditch somewhere, anywhere.
The plane rocked again as another black smudge puffed into existence. “They’re rushing it” Vzfw Andre Krähe thought aloud, “Either that or they think we are lining up for a bombing run on the target”.
“What?” Ltn. Gerhardt Reiher shouted back and Krähe waved him off.
Von Machin was all over the enemy scout, anticipating his every turn, losing off another volley not knowing if he had hit the plane due to the smoke and flame bellowing from it. Just as he was about to release the trigger the guns jammed.
He watched the enemy plane slip under the massive form of the Ae800 balloon and in a vain hope of it exploding, Taube fired at the balloon with little affect against its huge bulk.
Sumpter took advantage of the lull in deadly fire from that damn Eindecker and pushed his plane to its limits in the hope of reaching the ground all the time aware that the chances became slimmer as the flames ate away at his plane, he knew the Eindecker was still there and he knew it wouldn’t be long before he was in his sights again.
It was all too easy tailing the enemy plane, the smoke and flame left a trail in the sky and if he hung just above and back from it he could see the turns, he took his time making sure the jam was properly cleared.
Andre Krähe dropped the throttle right down and the plane almost came to a stop in the air as his observer took the final photograph of the gun placement below them, it was eerily silent until he pulled back the throttle control and the engine roared back in to life.
It was time to go, turning back towards their own lines Krähe was surprised to see a BE2c lumbering through the sky and he opened fire on it and smiled as he watched debris falling away from the aircraft.
Von Machin let the distinctive Morane-Saulnier go, he knew it was no longer in the fight and he turned his attention to the new arrival.
Sgt.Ernest Meek had his work cut out for him and he was building up quiet the sweat for his exertions. Swinging his gun around yet again he lined up the shot on the incoming Eindecker, they were bloody everywhere and he grinned in satisfaction as he saw the Eindecker jink slightly off its course as his bullets met the threat.
As the two observation planes rotated around each other Reiher let out a long barrage of profanity, as his gun jammed yet again.
Von Machin used his speed and altitude to his advantage and dropped his nose before firing, he watched the rounds strike the upper wing and cockpit area before lifting the nose up before the delicate E.III reached dangerous speeds that would tear it apart just as easily as bullets would.
Taube was always amazed at the amount of punishment these British BE2c‘s could take and as he fired off a long range shot and was rewarded with smoke suddenly erupting from the enemy plane.
“Maybe just maybe he’d get a kill today!” he thought to himself.
Suddenly the BE2c lurched over and started to lazily circle down to the ground as it did Sgt.Ernest Meek was presented with the perfect target of the underbelly of the enemy observation plane and he fired with precision at the exposed belly.
He had no idea that Cpl. Elmer Tilton had been hit, not until the ground came racing up to meet them.
From the ground they could see another aircraft coming down. “Is it one of theirs?” Warrant Officer Shaw asked as he took the binoculars from his eyes, he couldn’t make out any of the markings on the biplane and the melee of planes high above them had made it even harder to tell.
“Na sir” came the shouted reply from one of the privates who was shielding his eyes “wrong bloody colour ain’t it, those bloody Hun’s like to paint em up all fancy like.” Shaw liked Private Alfie he was a good sorts but def as post after being an artillery man for so long.
“Let them bloody have then lads” Shaw replied and the AA artillery piece barked loud, lobbing its shell high in to the air.
The first thing Obltn. Jacob Von Machin knew of the anti-aircraft shell was the black smudge that in slow motion opened in front of him like a blossoming flower, a deadly flower at that. Then came the noise, like a thunder clap only sharper and shorter. Then finally the whistle and zing of the deadly shrapnel that raced out in every direction. The artillery was becoming more accurate now and it was time to head for home.
Andre Krähe guided his plane towards the enemy lines and huge form of the AE 800 barrage balloon, the crew had bailed out long ago but there was still a point in bring it down as it would be one more thing the enemy would be deprived of and he kept his thumbs firmly on the trigger watching the bolt cycle over and over again like the piston rods on a steam engine.
2nd Ltn. Stanley Sumpter was almost there, just a little bit more and he could ditch it in the meadow just ahead. Suddenly there was whip crack as one of the bracing wires snapped, quickly followed by another. Sumpter braced himself for impact as the plane fell apart a mere 8 feet above the ground.
Von Machin watched as Andre Krähe’s plane flew past the balloon and unleashed his own guns on it. He watched as the bullets tore through it and a huge rent appeared in the fabric releasing the last of the gasses escaped.
A large shadow passed over the Roland and instinctively Krähe looked up, the balloon was coming down and with a loud whoosh the life of the balloon rushed out buffeting the hapless aircraft. A huge segment of fabric smashed in to the port wing of the aircraft dragging it down like the grip of a drowning man and there was nothing either of them could do but pray.
Warrant Officer Shaw watched the men work, they had found their rhythm and the two teams were putting down a good blanket of Anti-Aircraft fire. He peered in to the sky watching the black smudges suddenly appear then different lazily away in the morning wind.
Involuntary he let out a whoop as a shell exploded on target and hoped to see the plane drop to the ground.
Taube fought the controls as another explosion rocked his plane, the artillery was getting more accurate and it wouldn’t be long before they realised that they need to lob the shells slightly higher, he also knew that he would be out of their range soon.
As the Rolland rolled over and fell Andre Krähe watched the fabric slide across the wing, “Oh please don’t get snagged!” Suddenly the plane leaped upwards as the fabric fell clear and he fought with the controls to bring the aircraft back in to level flight.
Turning around to see if Ltn. Gerhardt Reiher was ok both men started to laugh hysterically as they saw a huge piece of fabric caught on the tail snapping in the wash. “Well this will be interesting land” thought Krähe as he playing with the rudder controls.
Suddenly both men stopped laughing as all along the trench line hundreds of rifles turned skyward and fired.
Von Machin’s engine suddenly started to protest as a lucky rifle shot pierced his engine instantly dropping the revs.
He heard more light arms fire strike his plane and with the performance of his aircraft diminished he knew he would be in for a lot more.
Pte Arthur Parsons raised his rifle to the sky and fired like the rest of his regiment at the enemy aircraft as they roared over head, he was 15 years old today and had lied about his age to join the army. At first he had tried to enlist at the village hall with the rest of the boys old enough to go, but PC Rawlings had spotted him and sent him home with a clip around the ear and a threat to tell his mother.
He had borrowed his neighbors BSA bicycle and ridden the 14 miles of country lanes and paths to the biggest town to enlist where nobody would know him and now he was here in France, fighting the war well stood in a water logged trench shooting blindly in to the sky. The rest of the men turned and started shooting at another approaching aircraft and Arthur turned and did the same.
All the men around him were firing until their Lee-Enfield rifles 5 round charger was empty. Arthur looked down the barrel of his rifle and put the Fokker in his sights and then shifted his aim forward of the target, he pulled the trigger over and over again until his rifle pinged and the charger was empty.
“I hit it, I hit it!” Arthur shouted as flames spewed from the plane high above them.
His sergeant looked at him and shook his head “Don’t be bloody daft lad, at this range you wouldn’t even be able to hit Britannic! “ The men in the trench laughed and those closest to him cuffed him about the head knocking his tin helmet askew.
Taube was not happy, somehow some lucky shot had hit his fuel line and now the plane was on fire and he was too low to dive to try and put the fire out and he was running low on fuel as it was before the fire had broken out.
The only thing he could hope for was to limp the plane home and hope the fire burnt itself out.
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