STICK
01-27-2011, 09:01
The whole aerodrome was abuzz with chit chat. It seems the french had some new weapon to deal with the boche gas bags and one of us was going to get to test it out. As it turned out my commander volunteered me. They briefed me on the basics. My first question was can I try them out first? They assured me they would work and work well. Hopefully better than the last chap they sent up with that cable contraption. He was a nice lad and to hear of his death was a shame. The plan was simple, a lone aircraft would draw less attention so I was to set out the following morning at dawn and attempt to be over the front and at the balloon before they knew what hit them. My plane was kept in the hangar away from prying eyes, even my own. I tell you I barely slept, mostly from excitement but I dare say a little from fear as well. I awoke early the next morning and was finally allowed to see my aircraft. The mechanics had fitted four pointed tubes on each wing. They appeared to be some type of munition or shell. I was immediately concerned, my single vickers gun shook the airframe quite violently in flight whatever would 8 shells that size do to it? My French is still terrible but they are called La preeoor rockets or somesuch. I was shown the newly installed lever to pull to fire them and told that I should fly straight at the gas bag until I was sure they could not miss and then pull the lever. They should puncture and ignite the gas bag straighforth and promised to give me quite a sight. I carefully climbed into the cockpit took off and headed for the huns. It was so dark I could barely see so they had set lanterns in a line to point me in the correct heading. Away I flew up and into the black. A sliver of morning was just appearing on the horizon as I crossed the front. The damn gun crews must have been half cat for they picked me out almost immediately and began lobbing the familiar crackling shells. As usual it had little effect and I twisted and weaved my way towards the balloon flying high in the sky. As I got closer I noticed a single eindecker had come up to meet me as well. My plan was to get in, fire these rockets and get away with my own hide. I flew as straight towards the balloon as possible. Probably not the best idea as I write this now. The gun crews had figured out my plan and filled the air between me and the bag with explosions. As luck would have it a shell went off and shrapnel peppered the engine. Immediately it began to cough and sputter and I thought I was done for. I kept the balloon dead ahead and flew through the gauntlet of shells. I looked nervously left and right at the rockets and they seemed to be intact. The gunners had my numbers and the eindecker was closing fast from my right as well so I knew I had but one shot. The balloon was huge in my sights and growing by the second. I thought I should pull the lever and be done with this but still I waited. Then when I figured I would have just enough time to pull the lever and avoid the balloon I fired the rockets. In a hissing motion they flew from my wings and my vision was clouded with sparks and smoke. I saw the rockets pierce the balloon and I pulled hard on the stick. Then as if from a vision of hell my world was suddenly filled with flame. It seems that the entire bag had ignited and fire was all I could see. I flew more by will and instinct than any skill. Thankfully I made it through. No sooner did my vision clear than I see the eindecker pointed straight at me. I saw a second of surprise on his face, no doubt amazed both at what I had done to the balloon and that I had survived the ordeal. He got over the shock almost the same time as me and we flew at each other guns blazing. I don't know for sure but I feel I got the worst of it. His bullets had torn off the tip of my wing and it was flapping dangerously as if holding on by a mere thread. I was done pressing my luck and decided to leave. The eindecker had turned to follow so I made a diving beeline for no mans land hoping my straining engine could keep me ahead of the hun long enough. With more shells exploding around me I flew as straight as I could. The huns engine was working properly and he was gaining on me steadily. Thankfully the rest of the shells missed and the hun never did catch me. My Moraine held together just long enough to get me to our lines. I returned to my field and was greeted as a hero. The whole base was again abuzz with chit chat this time about a certain dashing british pilot who took down a boche balloon single handedly and the new weapon we had to do it with.