OTT BE 13 Unlucky for Somme - Mike's Mission
OTT BE Mission 13 – Unlucky for Somme – May 5th 1918
Prologue
The CO was worried! “A” Flight had just taken off, for the evening line patrol, under the leadership of 2nd Lt William “Bill” Rhodes-Moorehouse, the newly appointed, if temporary, flight leader. Was he up to the job? Bill had been enjoying his alcohol, perhaps a little bit too much, recently. Was that a sign of the strain he was under? Should the flight have been led by the Canadian, 2nd Lt Alan McLeod. A steady chap that one, but he hadn’t really made his mark with the squadron yet, despite having been with it for some time.
Casualties in the squadron had been high during the past few months and pilots and ground crew alike were feeling the strain. Only a few days ago they had attended the funeral of Sergeant Alan Davis VC,MM & Bar, who had shared in the sinking of an enemy cruiser with his pilot, Lt Alex Clarke VC,MC & Bar. Clarke had been very upset, although he had put a brave face on it in public. He was never-the-less very distressed and was visibly upset when the last post was sounded. The loss of Davis was a real blow, not only to the squadron’s fighting strength, but to its’ morale too, despite the award of the Victoria Cross to both officers, which had made the rest of the lads celebrate wildly, for a time!
Now, the CO was rueing the hospitalisation of experienced flight leaders like Lt “Harry” Medlicott MC, CgD, and 2nd Lt Arthur Hammond MC. Arthur had only been in the job a short while, filling in for the badly injured Lieutenant, before he was shot down himself and injured. But the lad had refused to be bed ridden. Against the doctor’s orders he had taken to the air again before he was fully fit. So now he was back recuperating for a further period. The CO could have done with his and Harry’s experience right now. Which is why “Bill” was leading “A” Flight in his absence.
Luckily, things seemed to have quietened down somewhat in the last week or so. Air and ground activity had been ferocious during the two recent German offensives and the squadron had found itself having to “move home” on several occasions , due to the successful operations of the enemy. The result – everybody was exhausted. The ground crews, both at home and abroad, were amazing and never ceased working endless hours to keep their pilots alive.
But they never ceased grumbling either. The pilots too were tired and under a lot of stress. Oh they appeared cheerful enough, when on the ground. Regular parties and ad hoc entertainments demonstrated that well enough. But the CO could see the tension in their eyes; at least in those who had been with him a while. The newcomers, well that was a different matter. They were full of boastful enthusiasm. All eagerness to get to grips with the hun before they had missed their chance. Lord, they would learn, if they survived long enough. He had a couple of them up in the air, with “A” Flight, right at this moment. 2nd Lt John Roberts, newly arrived from Chingford, so he should be good enough. Came with a very complimentary recommendation. Then there was 2nd Lt Richard Turpin, a totally different character. Rather roguish and a practical joker. But you could never tell what he was thinking because he wore his face like a mask – probably a good poker player! The others in the Flight should be able to look after them though, as well as themselves. There was a reasonable amount of experience between them. In addition to Moorehouse and McLeod, the flight had with them two other fairly experienced pilots. 2nd Lt Oliver D Gittisham, “Old Git” as he was referred to rather irreverently, on account of his age. He was 30 and had only been with the squadron a couple of months. But already he had downed two enemy aircraft! Then there was 2nd Lt Peter Piper, one of the squadron’s entertainers. He was quite an accomplished musician, regularly performing his Irish jigs and reels with an energy and style that belied the simplicity of his penny whistle. He was also noted, amusingly, for his love of pickled vegetables. Odd that. He too had downed an enemy, quite recently. So between them, if things were quiet today, they should be able to return with both “rookies” later, without mishap! He hoped …. and prayed!
Later, approaching the front line. Somewhere over the Somme.
The evening air was crisp at that altitude and the sun shone in a brilliantly clear sky as “A” flight flew east, with the wind. Six aircraft, four of them RAF SE5a’s and the two Sopwith Camels which the replacement pilots had arrived with the day before. One of them, Richard Turpin by name, had begged to be able to try his hand with an SE5a straight away. Since this was only meant to be a familiarisation line patrol, with orders not to go too far over enemy lines, the CO had agreed. Which is why “Bill” Moorehouse found himself back behind the well known controls of a “Camel”. He had instructed the other rookie, 2nd Lt John Roberts to stick to his side like glue and never leave it, no matter what happened.
Meanwhile, Turpin’s future health was entrusted to Alan McLeod. Despite the latter not having a single “Kill” to his name, since joining the squadron, “Bill” rated him highly. It was only a matter of time before the Canadian would start to make his mark and in the meantime “Bill” would have preferred it if Alan had been flight leader. He felt himself to be a good pilot, but better led than leading. Still, he had the job today, so he would do it to the best of his ability. Alan would take care of Turpin ok.
Sure enough, Alan McLeod had spoken, in his soft British Columbian voice, giving the same firm instruction to the rogueish Peter Piper, just before take off.
“You stay on my tail Peter, no matter what happens. Don’t involve yourself in anything aggressive. Stay tight to me unless things hot up, in which case you high tail it out of there and make for the barn. You savy?”
Piper had just nodded his head, with a completely blank expression on his face!
As they approached the front line, they flew over the remains of French civilian livelihoods and homes, represented by abandoned villages. Then came the muddy fields of trenches, divided by what had become known, euphemistically, as “no-man’s-land”. Plenty of men occupied it, however. Only they were all dead!
Flying at a modest altitude they passed above woods, each tree now a skeleton of its’ former glory, having been pulverised again and again, until all were little more than memorial crosses for the corpses. These were the thoughts passing through the mind of “Bill” Moorehouse as he led the patrol. Bad thoughts, unhealthy thoughts. He desperately needed a break. But right now the others needed a switched on leader. So he focused ahead and tried to snap out of this morose mood.
That was when he noticed they had company. The hun had seen them approaching and rising, like a flock of predatory falcons, from behind their own lines, came forward to greet them. This was now their territory and they intended to keep trespasers well away!
Moorehouse snapped a quick glance over his shoulder. Good! Roberts was exactly where he was meant to be. Glancing beyond, towards the SE5s he could see that Turpin, too, was correctly positioned. Tucked tightly in behind McCloud and to his port side.
So he waggled his wings, signalling his intention to attack the intruders. At that same moment, Ltn Mark Müller, the leader of the German Jasta pilots, did the same. He too intended to send these marauding intruders packing!
As they hurtled towards one another, thoughts flashed through the minds of each pilot. Turpin and Roberts were over excited. A sign of nerves, perhaps, now they were confronted with the reality of combat. Their hearts raced, but there was no fear in them. They hadn’t enough experience for that, yet! McLeod, calmly checked to see his charge was positioned as ordered and focused on the rapidly approaching D.VIIs. He was curious, almost. He’d not seen any of this machine before, but had heard enough of the stories and rumours to know he needed to treat them with a mixture of respect, caution and aggression. The RAF was not the only force in the air that had suffered tremendous casualties of late. Which meant his adversaries were as likely to be as green as either of the two rookies present in his flight. On the other hand the D.VII was known to be in short supply, so would the German high command place this rarity in the hands of rookies? Well he was about to find out!
As for Piper and “The Old Git”, they were as prepared as they could be. They both knew this game reasonably well by now and both settled into “professional” mode. No time to think, just get the flying basics right, shoot any black cross that appeared in the sights and never follow the enemy down towards their trenches. That was suicide, they both knew. But would they be able to resist?
Ltn Müller was full of determination. He was aware of the relative inexperience of his followers. But they were good pilots, all of them. Each had come from other Jastas with the blessing and recommendation of their former commanders. And being new, young and inexperienced, most of them felt exactly the same way as the two British rookies! Ltns Kurt Parschau and Otto Poeschke had been around a while, and knew the ropes. But both had suffered as casualties in previous fights. Both had been laid up for a while and both were feeling their way, slowly, back into the swing of things. But Ltns Paul Beckmann, Albert Fitzler and the first time rookie Hans von Grettel, especially the latter, were very raw at this game. Time to learn and the learning curve had to be very short and very steep, if one were to survive.
A second or two later, the two sides met and 2nd Lt Gittisham became the target for three of his adversaries in the first burst.. Opening fire at long range, the bullets from the 7.92mm Spandau MGs of Ltns Fitzler and Poeschke, in their Fokker DVIIs, and von Grettel in a Pfalz DIIIa, smashed into his machine. His rudder went slack and several struts and wires complained bitterly. But it was the German rookie whose aim was best of all. When he fired, he immediately saw flames beginning to spread from the engine of the Britisher’s aircraft. The “Old Git’s” SE was on fire already! ( Gittisham hit by Fitzler – 4 + 1 height adv; by Poeschke - 2+left rudder; and by von Grettel – 2+fire+1 height adv ) He returned fire of course, with a yellow Fokker in his sights, but then to top it all, his Vickers jammed! (Poeschke hit by Gittisham - 2 . The SE’s guns jam. Missed by McLeod - 0)) I don’t think any of us, dear reader, would be in any doubt as to either his thoughts or his vocabulary at this point.
Moorehouse, too, came off worst in his initial encounter. Flying directly towards the oncoming German single-seaters, he opened fire a fraction too early. He missed completely as far as he knew, but he was more concerned with the Vickers than he was with his target, because the damned guns had jammed again! He hardly even noticed the return fire that put holes in the fabric of his upper plane and then hit the rudder controls with a sharp thud. (Parschau missed completely by Moorehouse – 0 whose guns jam; return fire from same hits Moorehouse - 1 + left rudder )
As was always the way, with “dog fights” like this, from here on in, everything became one mass of confusion and doubt, at least for the inexperienced pilots. It wasn’t that straightforward for those with experience and skill either. How easy it was to lose sight, not only of your opponents, but of your allies too. For some the sky seemed devoid of life itself, in the middle of a large scale aerial battle – until you heard the spine chilling rattle of machine guns, and felt the bullets hitting your machine and realised then that somebody was there, somewhere, after all. And they were aiming to kill you!
In a brief few seconds,
during which everyone was firing at everyone else.
Chaos ruled, murder was attempted, and the machines growled passed one another in a hectic flurry of activity so insane, that it was a miracle nobody collided with another.
(Moorhouse hit by Beckmann – 2+1; Gittisham hit by Müller – 4+smoke. Missed by Parschau 0+0. Guns jam; Piper missed by von Grettel – 0; Beckmann guns jam; Parschau hit by Roberts 3+4. Guns jam; Fitzler hit by Piper 1+1+Lft rudder; von Grettel hit by McLeod - 5+3. Hit by Turpin – 5+pilot wound)
Moorehouse swung north, just as the last Fokker passed through the British line of aircraft. He was actually surprised by what he saw. Everyone was still in the air. But he also noted, with alarm, that Gittisham’s SE was on fire, with oily black smoke billowing from his machine. The latter was swinging south, beneath him, as the “Old Git” did his best to keep the flames away from himself. It looked serious and unlikely that Oliver would make it much further.
“Round one to the hun then” he thought to himself. What he didn’t realize was that the rookie, 2nd Lt Turpin, had seriously wounded the pilot of the Pfalz, Ltn Hans von Grettel, who would now endeavour to quit the battle zone.
The two warring parties then began to break up, as each pilot chose his own path and his own sparring partner! Struggling with a damaged rudder control, Moorehouse almost collided with the rookie Roberts, but this new pilot did prove his worth. He climbed gracefully, avoided Moorehouse, turned, then caught one of the Fokkers, a red one, napping! (Beckmann hit by Piper – 3 + Engine damage; Müller hit by Roberts – 1+0). He chased him, firing all the while, until a well timed burst struck the DVII around the area of its engine and there followed a loud dull thud. With that
the enemy spun full circle and spiralled earthwards. On his first time out, Roberts had his first “Kill”. Moorehouse, was elated!
At the same time, Lt Piper, was also chasing his quarry and he hit Beckmann’s D.VII again! (Beckmann hit by Piper – 2+1; Müller hit by Roberts and shot down – Boom; Gittisham mised by Müller – 0).
Still struggleing with his rudder control, Moorehouse almost missed the next success for his flight, which followed on very quickly from the last. McLeod had realized that his charge, 2nd Lt Turpin, had got ahead of him in a turn to the south and was heading for a spot of bother. He quickly followed, at which point he found a Pfalz in his sights. A long range, opportunist, burst of fire and its’ pilot seemed to crumple in his cockpit. (von Grettel hit by McLeod – 3+pilot wound, his second, so he is shot down) McLeod knew he had hit the pilot, possibly killed him, because the Pfalz also started to nose dive towards the ground, apparently out of control. However, he had no time, and no inclination, to follow the stricken aircraft. Its’ fate would remain unknown to him, for the time being at least!
Now, this particular contest was moving decidedly in their favour, Moorehouse began to think. But no “counting chickens before they hatch, dear boy!” There was still the possibility that things could go horribly wrong. Gittisham’s SE was still burning and he was now trying desperately to reach his own lines, side slipping left to right, again and again. 2nd Lt Piper was nowhere to be seen either. He seemed to have got himself a bit lost over to the south and was making very little contribution to the fray at this moment.
On the plus side though, with two down and four to go, the hun seemed to have got himself in a bit of a pickle. Three of them were attempting to get out of one another’s way, over a ruined village to the west, whilst the remaining aircraft of their Jasta, a White D.VII had got himself isolated to the north and was surrounded by three of ours!
Moorehouse decided to attack the three D.VIIs over the ruined village and he didn’t see Roberts who, obeying orders, tried to follow him. One of the three Germans, flying a pink coloured machine, broke away from the group. At the same time, the pilot of the white Fokker, managed to extract himself from the trap he had sprung and also headed for Roberts.
Suddenly, all aircraft seemed to converge again in another bout of chaotic insanity! Bullets were flying everywhere. And the advantage was to neither side, because, in fact, not all aircraft were involved. Piper had realized his error and was now struggling to return to the fight. Gittisham was still trying desperately to put out the fire, which was beginning to consume his SE5a!
(Moorehouse missed by Poeschke – 0; Roberts hit by Parschau – 1+0; and by Fitzler – 2+Lft rudder;Parschau hit by Roberts – 3. Also shows a 0 which was a failed shot as Roberts needed to reload; Poeschke hit by Moorehouse – 3 )
So this tussel was a four on four combat in which the only obvious casualty was one of the Fokkers. It too caught fire during the storm of bullets; smoke and flames filling the air around him, as the two groups seemed to shake hands and part company again, to refresh their spirits before trying again.
(Moorehouse hit by Fitzler – 0+3+1 for height adv; McLeod hit by Beckmann – 0+1; Turpin hit by Poeschke – 0+4+smoke; Beckmann hit by McLeod – 0+2+fire; Poeschke hit by Turpin – 2+rt rudder+4)
End of round two, thought Moorehouse. And still no obvious signs of a result, one way or the other.
A flash of light cuaght his attention to the south, just as he was swinging north, in an attempt to catch the hun, in a yellow Fokker, napping.
He cursed, because he knew that Gittisham had failed to make it back to his own lines. The flames had finally destroyed his aircraft, but he had managed to descend, almost to ground level, before the fire totally consumed everything. Perhaps he had managed to ditch the SE in no-mans-land in time to save himself! (Gittisham downed by von Grettel as a result of fire damage - 0+0+5)
The fight above continued. The Fokker he’d seen catch fire continued to burn.
“That’s terrifying” Moorehouse uttered to nobody, as none could hear him anyway.
After which the fighting just seemed to peter out slowly. One by one the rest of the Fokkers succumbed. The Yellow D.VII was caught in a cross fire, and although he fought back gallantly, hitting Roberts, the rookie, pretty hard; teaching the new boy a lesson it would be wise for him to remember; never-the-less, down he went. And it was the rookie, yet again, that took him out. This lad was proving to be rather useful! Two kills on his first ever outing. The CO was going to be impressed, providing he managed to get back to the barn in one piece!
(Poeschke hit by Moorehouse – 1; Fitzler missed by Piper – 0 / hit by McLeod – 5+ pilot wound; Beckmann fire damage – 3).
(Roberts hit by Poeschke (Guns jam) – 2+1 / and by Fitzler – 3+ pilot wound; Poeschke hit by Roberts – 4+1+rt rudder/ and by Turpin – 1+ lft rudder. Shot down, credited to Roberts).
(Roberts missed by Parschau – 0; Piper hit by Fitzler 0+1; Parschau hit by Roberts 2+lft rudder)
Three down, three to go. Moorehouse dared to feel a little trickle of hope creep into his head. “Careful lad, no relaxing now. That could be fatal!” But the feeling that his flight had pulled it off, just wouldn’t go away. The next to go down was the burning Fokker. His fate had been sealed earlier, this time by Alan McLeod. (Beckmann fire damage - 3+Boom)
“At last” thought Moorehouse to himself, “I knew he’d do it sooner, rather than later! Well done that man. The CO will be delighted!”
Mcleod, though, was feeling sick. He’d known his enemy was hit. He knew, too, that it was himself who had fired the shots that set the poor blighter alight! He also knew that it had been a matter of “Him or Me”. Just the same, he had not enjoyed the experience one bit. It was his job! His duty even! But nothing more. He also felt sad!
The remaining two Fokker pilots now obviously realised that the odds against them were far too great. It was their duty to get themselves, and their machines, back to the safety of the barn.
(Roberts hit by Parschau – 2; Parschau hit by Roberts - 3)
“Live to fight another day” was the correct thing to do. With any luck, the others had survived too. None of them were very far from their own lines. Perhaps they might even make it back to the barn as well. Then they could re-assess the situation and continue the fight another day. This was far from over!
So they both made a bee line for their own lines and safety. But “A” flight was having none of it. Sensing they had this in the bag, the remainder of the flight turned to follow. The DVIIs were quick. Every bit as quick as the SE’s. Had it not been for the damage done to them earlier, they both might have made it back too. But that was not to be.
Roberts was the closest and he chased and chased the pair of Fokkers relentlessly. But his aim was off now. Perhaps well and truly over excited by the situation, he just could not hit either of them.
So, it was McLeod, yet again, who closed down on the enemy and made the final kill. Bringing the Pink coloured Fokker down well behind the German’s own lines. (Parschau hit by McLeod – 3 and shot down)
At which point, Moorehouse signaled for the flight to regroup and get the hell out of there. They had pushed their luck quite far enough and he was afraid that at any minute ground troops would get over their surprise at seeing their countrymen so badly treated and start opening up. So far they had got away with it, probably because the Germans feared hitting their own. But now it really was time to get home again. So with a couple of parting bursts of fire, which failed to bring down the last Fokker, Roberts and the rest of “A” flight turned for home. (Fitzler hit by Roberts twice – 3 and 3)
Moorehouse had to admit, he felt good and very relieved into the bargain!
And that was the end of that “familiarisation” line patrol. It had definitely been unlucky for some!
The End
The Butcher’s Bill
Central Powers
Ltn Paul Beckmann - SD EXP / FT / No Kills
Roll 7 –3EXP = 4 – Injured. Skip 1D6 scenarios. Roll 5 = Skip 5
Result – Skip 5 scenarios.
Ltn Kurt Parschau – SD / FT / No kills
Roll 8 –1SD = 7 – Injured. Skip 1D2 scenario. Roll 6 = skip 2
Result – Skip 2 scenarios
Ltn Otto Poeschke – SD / NML / No Kills
Roll 10 –1SD –1NML = 8 Injured - Skip 1D2 Scenario. Roll 4 = skip 2
Result – Skip 2 scenario (10-2=8 !! Result changed)
Ltn Albert Fitzler – RTB / WIA / No Kills
Roll 3 +3 RTB –1WIA = 5 – Injured - Skip 1D3 Scenarios. Roll 5 = Skip 3 scenarios.
Result – Skip 3 scenarios
Ltn Mark Müller (Flight Leader – temporary) The only pilot I had with 1 kill to his name. The rest are in recovery.
SD EXP / NML / No Kills
Roll 8 –3EXP –1NML = 4 – Injured. Skip 1D6 scenarios. Roll 6 = Skip 6 scenarios.
Result – Skip 6 scenarios
Ltn Hans von Grettel – SD / WIA x 2 / FT / 1 Kill
Roll 11 –1SD –2WIA = 8 – Injured. Skip 1D2 scenario. Roll 4 = Skip 2 scenarios.
Result – Skip 2 scenarios
Entente
2nd Lt William Rhodes-Moorehouse (Flight Leader) - RTB / No Kills / All good.
2nd Lt Alan McLeod – RTB / 3 Kills / All good.
2nd Lt John Roberts – RTB / WIA / 2 Kills
Roll 11 +3RTB –1WIA = 13. All good when you land well.
2nd Lt Oliver D Gittisham – SD EXP NML / No Kills
Roll 6 –3EXP –1NML = 2 - KIA
Result – KIA RIP “Old Git” You’ll be sadly missed.
2nd Lt Peter Piper – RTB / No Kills / All good
2nd Lt Richard Turpin – RTB / No Kills / All good
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Great Stuff Mike! 
Originally Posted by Carl_Brisgamer
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