OTT BE Mission 18 - 25th July 1918
"A Champagne Breakfast" or "What Goes Up, Must Come Down"
In days long since past, the Celts of Gaul worshipped a goddess known as Dea Matrona, the great divine mother, goddess of the river Marne. In those days, she was depicted nursing babies or holding fruits, other foods, or small dogs in her lap and presumably, her worshippers believed she could keep them from harm. It is doubtful whether by 1918 anyone still believed in her and thus what protection she may have given must long since have been withdrawn.
The river Marne is, of course, in France, an eastern tributary of the Seine in the area east and southeast of Paris. It is 514 kilometres (319 miles) long and starts in the Langres plateau, runs generally north then bends west between Saint-Dizier and Châlons-en-Champagne, joining the Seine at Charenton just upstream from Paris.
Today it is famous as the site of two eponymous battles during World War I. The first battle was a turning point of the war, fought in 1914. The second battle was fought four years later, in 1918. This brief tale concerns the latter. The Spring Offensives launched by the Central Powers in March of 1918 were petering out. French and American forces were making a counter assault across this weary river, having requested RAF support.
German forces were attempting to pull back across the river, using any means at their disposal, including pontoon bridges, some of which had quite possibly been constructed by the Tommies in earlier months.
July 1918 – South of Chateau Thierry, Champagne district.
“Isn’t that a children’s book Peter?” the mocking, baratone, voice of 2nd Lt John Roberts enquired.
“Not at all old bean. In fact, given the job we’re about to do, it seems rather appropriate!” came the cheerful reply. “It appears I’m off to play over the river, with a rat like you and a charming old toad of a flight leader who keeps tinkering with his machine and wants to try out any new gadget, on it, that comes along, in the belief it will improve and prolong his existence, poop, poop.
“OK, I yield, lets go, since you seem so anxious to get this over and done with!” and he put the book down, grabbed his flying helmet and left the hut.
Roberts took one final glance at the title of the book that lay there, forlornly on the bunk bed, awaiting Piper’s return - “The Wind in the Willows” by Kenneth Grahame – then followed him out. Stepping into the early morning gloom he was met by the roaring of the engines of their SE5s warming up in readiness.
Ground strafing and balloon hunting, all in one trip. His worst nightmare. The former was dangerous enough, the latter potentially suicidal.
“Poop, poop?” he thought. “The man’s gone soft in the head. What was that supposed to mean?”
Not long after, as the sun poked its head above the horizon to reveal a clear blue summer sky, marred only by a distant bank of Cumulus way to the north, he found himself rapidly approaching the river Marne target area. He was sandwiched between Peter, better known as 2nd Lt Peter Piper, on his left, and his flight leader, Canadian 2nd Lt Alan McLeod to his right.
Ahead were the three pontoon bridges they had been ordered to destroy, if possible! And beyond them, high up on the hills overlooking this famous old water course, was a dark object, hanging in the sky against the backdrop of clouds – not Dea Matrona unfortunately, but the dreaded balloon. Placed there to keep watch over the river and all who attempted to pass, it was threatening and a bloody nuisance to boot. It had to come down! So, without hesitation, Mcleod roared on, leading them straight into their assault.
Also lurking up there, in the skies above the hills, was another menace. The enemy! Three beautiful Fokker DVIIs; the very latest in aeronautical engineering. Fast, agile and very dangerous - in the right hands. They were patiently waiting for just the opportunity that our RAF friends were about to offer them. Waiting to pounce, like predatory raptors hunting for rodents in the margins of the river below. To seize or take by force, is the meaning of raptor, from the Latin rapere. And that is exactly what was going through the mind of Ltn Ernst Benzler, the flight leader of the three hawks lying in wait. He intended to take these rats of Tommies before they could do too much damage.
Whilst below him, the poor bloody infantry, weary, hungry and demoralized, trudged disconsolately across the war torn fields, down to the river bank and thence, in single file, across the precarious structures known as pontoon bridges. Swaying gently in the strong currents, they offered nothing in the way of protection and for those who could not swim, laden as they were by all the military paraphernalia of their calling, they felt very exposed. The sound of approaching aircraft, therefore, terrified many of them and they quickened their pace.
The engines screamed at them as the three Britisher biplanes came closer, tearing towards them, hungry for the kill. The cacophony crashed into their minds as it was joined by the rest of the orchestra; their own side this time. The SE5s were coming in low and the infantry knew what that meant; whilst the Fokker DVIIs were bellowing their defiance, diving at God knew what unholy speeds to add their fury to the fray.
Then almost at once, the bullets began to fly and the bombs began to fall. A few of the braver souls raised their weapons and fired in hope. Some dropped theirs and ran. The odd unfortunate lost his balance and fell into the mirky depths below, to meet their fate, or their maker, swallowed up and digested by the less savoury river Gods, swirling in the foamy currents.
Missed. The first bomb screamed. Hurtling towards them as they looked up and felt sick. Then splash and nothing more than a dull whump and an enormous spray of water, that wouldn’t have done the local fish a whole lot of good. McLeod was not pleased, but had no time for reflection.
Then, if only it might have been heard above the din, came a satisfied whoop of joy from Peter Piper as his aim proved to be true. The infantry on this pontoon, however, were not in the least bit keen on the event. Up into the air they were thrown, splinteres and large chunks of timber tearing at them, destroying some, crippling others. Limbs akimbo and some detached, they were hurled this way and that, some never knowing anything of their watery grave. The bridge was rent in two and the halves rapidly drifted in the strong current, until they rested on the mud banks beneath the surface, now useless for that which they were designed. A feint tinge of red was quickly washed away. The survivors, some now deafened, struggled to the shore as best they could and lay gasping for breath, glad to have lived, at least for now.
All this while, of course, the rattle of gunfire played a tune in the background as Ltn Benzler and his team of Ltns Kurt Parschau and Albert Fitzler pounced. The remaining SE5 pilot appeared to have missed his approach run altogether and, having crossed the river, swung to his right, intending another run on the bridge recently missed by his flight leader.
Ltn Benzler exchanged fire with his opposite number, only to have his guns jam, whilst to his left Kurt Parschau had misjudged the relative speeds of the approaching Britishers and overshot his mark.
(McLeod, SE5, hit by Benzler, DVII for 3+0 but guns jam; Benzler, DVII, hit by McLeod, SE5 for 2+3+engine damage)(Piper, SE5, destroys one pontoon bridge)
Cursing his bad luck, Benzler quickly threw his machine around to “Immel” onto the tail of the SE5. The perfect kill position, had his guns been operational. He hammered angrily at the offending machine guns, furious at this turn of events. Meanwhile, nothing seemed to be going well for his team. Albert Fitzler had also failed to make contact with the enemy on his initial run in. So all three had turned quickly to get on the tails of their various adversaries. But now, Benzler ran foul of the incoming 2nd Lt Roberts who managed a lucky shot at long range before going into his bombing run.
(Benzler, DVII, hit by Roberts, SE5, for +4)
So, onwards and upwards, as the saying goes. 2nd Lt Alan Mcleod completely ignored the threat that was behind him. Totally focused on his primary mission, he was determined to bring down the bloody balloon. If he could pull this one off, it would be a first for him! And being a very competitive sort of fellow, this Canadian ace wanted to get this one in before his prize was snatched by one of the others. However, right at that moment, the only likely contender was Peter Piper and he was suddenly distracted by a nasty puff of black smoke.
“****e” he exclaimed. “Archie!”
Fortunately for him, though, their aim was off as usual, although it was always an additional worry and forced one to dodge and turn to put the gunner’s aim off. Very inconvenient.
Roberts, having had a quick shot at a red DVII, put it out of his mind and concentrated on the bridge looming up before him. Like a show jumper, lining up a six foot fence, he turned his head towards the spot he wanted to aim for and the aircraft leaned into it with him. He let go the bomb and had time to glance down.
“Damn” he had missed. The PBI got another soaking and a not inconsiderable fright, but that would not be enough to appease the Brass!
“Bloody hell”. Looking up he cursed again and had time, just, to execute another miss of a more fortunate variety, as a near collision, which might have wrecked his SE5 and a Blue DVII, was narrowly avoided. The German pilot was unconcerned, however, as he, Ltn Kurt Parschau, was more intent on attacking Roberts, a threat to his Flight Leader and comrade in arms. He did not miss. Neither did Albert Fitzler, approaching the same target from the west.
(Piper, SE5, hit by Parschau, DVII, for 1+right rudder; also by Fitzler, DVII, for 1)
Things never go in ones, always in twos and threes, so the saying goes. Which may explain McLeods frustration when what appeared to be a complete miss with his incendiaries, against the now enormous and “unmissable” form of a hulking great balloon, made him grimace. How on earth could those bullets penetrate the beast and apparently do no harm at all? But it happened all the time! Extremely frustrating!
But just as Piper, also ignoring the threat from behind, and also just as determined to “kill” a balloon for the first time, put in his first rounds of incendiaries, with the same result, an alarming flicker of flame appeared near the balloon’s summit. Alarming for Ltn Benzler that is. To the joy of the three RAF pilots, McLeod had done it. His final rounds of incendiaries had done some fatal damage and it was time to get as far away from the balloon as their little wings could carry them. And there wasn’t much time!
(Piper, SE5, hits balloon for 0 - no effect; McLeod, SE5, hits balloon and sets it ablaze)
Daka daka daka daka, daka daka daka daka – the dreaded rattle sounded from behind Piper who was about to learn the folly of his competitiveness. Bits of his machine flew in all directions and he felt the rudder controls slacken.
(Piper, SE5, hit by Benzler, DVII, for 2+2+right rudder damage; Benzler’s guns jam, again!)
He almost froze with the shock and instead of turning immediately off to the side, he just allowed the SE5 to continue gaily onwards in a straight line, almost leaving it too late to turn away from the now burning inferno that had been a ballon. He came to his senses just in time though and made it far enough from the inevitable explosion, which confirmed McLeod’s first balloon kill. Meantime, he had not even noticed that the machine gun bullets had stopped ripping his aircraft to bits. Benzler was beside himself with rage now! The verdammte guns had jammed for a second time this outing. He was going to have words if he ever got back to the barn.
The following few seconds saw almost the final outburst of violence in this brief affair. Flying this way and that, the pilots of all the contesting aircraft involved did their best to keep well clear of the now blazing wreckage; avoid colliding with one another and wildly shoot at anything that crossed their paths! Roberts caught a glimpse of something blue as it flashed past the nose of his SE5 – daka daka daka daka. (Roberts, SE5, hit Parschau, DVII, for 0+1). He saw another SE5 heading for him, guns twinkling away, and for a split second thought he might be the victim of friendly fire. But in fact, his friend, Peter Piper, had seen one of the DVIIs on his tail and tried to put it off. (Piper, SE5, hit Benzler, DVII for 3). At that same moment, Archie was doing its best to bring Piper down and very nearly succeeded, the black cloud of the exploding shell showing just above Piper’s cockpit. Another miss, this one to celebrate! (AA gun misses Piper - 0)
Next, it was the turn of Roberts to feel the wrath of the hun. Daka daka daka daka, daka daka daka daka came the sounds of the heavy metal music so harshly familiar, this time from the guns of Kurt Parschau. His own fault, again. Seeing the red DVII pass him, on the tail of McLeod, Roberts had himself turned sharply, performing the “Immelmann” turn as it is now known, to get onto its’ tail and had failed to spot Parschau against the backdrop of the blazing balloon. (Parschau, DVII, hit Roberts, SE5, for 4+0)
Luckily for Roberts, the DVII broke off the attack to swing right and go after Piper to the west, who was now about to enter the fray once more, taking a long range pot at Benzler’s red DVII. So Roberts, in turn broke to his left, only to run up against the Yellow DVII of Ltn Albert Fitzler, arriving from the east. All very, very confusing, and no time to stop and work it all out! Daka daka daka daka, daka daka daka daka.
McLeod meantime had given the signal to return to base. Only to be ignored entirely. That or the others were far to preoccupied either to notice or to obey. Then he was attacked again, once more by his opposite number. And to his horror, fire broke out somewhere ahead, in the area of his engine. That was it, now he was really annoyed. Turning about sharply, he again flew into the attack. (McLeod, SE5, hit by Benzler, DVII, for 2+fire)(Benzler, DVII, hit by Piper, SE5, for 0)
Which is how, dear reader; assuming you are still making a gallant effort to follow this twisted drama; the six aircraft all suddenly came together, like the gunfighters at the OK Coral, only this time above the waters of the river Marne, rushing their weary but unconcerned way towards Paris.
The resulting shoot out did a lot of damage! Roberts and Fitzler exchanged courtesies and although the German pilot did more damage to the Britisher’s aircraft, it was he who suffered the rather personal insult of being wounded. Not too seriously he believed at that moment of surprised shock!
(Roberts, SE5, hit by Fitzler, DVII, for 4+smoke+1; Fitzler, DVII, hit by Roberts, SE5, for 0+3+pilot wound)
McLeod’s guns jammed, but only after he had contributed to the demise of Ltn Ernst Benzler, whose red Foker DVII took further, fatal, damage from the luckless 2nd Lt Peter Piper, himself wounded and shot down by his victim, Benzler!
(Benzler, DVII, hit by McLeod, SE5, for 2. McLeods’s guns jam: Benzler also hit by Piper, SE5, for 0+5 result – shot down. 1 Kill to Piper)( Piper, SE5, hit by Benzler, DVII, for 5+pilot wound+Explosion. Result – Piper shot down. 1Kill to Benzler)
Both of the stricken aircraft, one sporting roundels, the other crosses, fell from the sky and splashed into the river below. Perhaps, just perhaps, Dea Matrona will spare them.
Time to go home everybody! McLeod’s guns were jammed and his aircraft was still burning, if not very fiercely ( 2+0 from fire so far); Robert’s SE5 was trailing a stream of black smoke and Piper was down and out! As for the opposition, they weren’t a lot happier. Albert Fitzler was wounded; they had just lost a balloon, and their friend and flight leader Ernst Benzler was in the river, together with his wrecked, precious, Foker DVII! Oh! Not forgetting the PBI of course! A pontoon bridge was down and an unknown number of casualties suffered amongst the foot sloggers didn’t exactly improve their day either.
So a brief respite followed, whilst various personal checks were made, jammed guns hammered back into shape and a kind of reorientation process took place. Then with one last cheeky burst of fire, McLeod had a pop at Parschau, turned, and took off for home, followed by Parschau who was like a hound that had just been hissed at by a cat, followed by Roberts, who just wanted to get home, but who wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth, so to speak, and took a long range shot at the blue DVII chasing his flight leader!
The wounded Fitzler was the only sensible one there. He decided that his wound was not as slight as he had at first suspected. So, with one parting shot at the smoking aircraft before him, which only succeeded in jamming his guns, and a little weak from the loss of blood, he turned for home.
(McLeod, SE5, hit Parschau, DVII, for 0+3, having used his ace skill) (Fitzler, DVII, hit Roberts, SE5, for 0 and his guns jam)
To be honest, nothing more of any great importance happened that day! Various pilots wasted ammunition galore both at long and short range. Both of the remaining RAF pilots made it back to the barn, albeit with badly damaged aircraft (final fire damage to McLeod, SE5 - +1) and a disgruntled Ltn Parschau, having been severely mauled by Roberts whilst chasing McLeod, finally turned at bay, snarled a little in return, then sulkily headed for home sensing he had missed a golden opportunity to get his first kill ever.
(Parschau, DVII, hit by Roberts, SE5, for 5; again by Roberts for 2+left rudder damage+0+1 aim bonus)(Parschau, DVII, hit by Roberts, SE5, for 0+1+1 aim bonus; Roberts, SE5, hit by Parschau, DVII, for 1+2 and Parschau’s guns jam).
In the end, the job was almost done. One pontoon bridge was destroyed, but probably reconstructed by the following day. One balloon was destroyed and probably replaced by the next morning. The cost? One aircraft confirmed destroyed and one missing! Only time would tell if 2nd Lt Peter Piper would return to finish reading his book. Only time would tell if Ltn Ernst Benzler would return to celebrate his second kill. Oh, and the PBI suffered in the same old fashion!
Was it worth it? They thought it was. Besides, that is what they did. There was a war to be fought! A war to be won!
The End
The Butcher’s Bill
Entente
2nd Lt Alan McLeod DFC; CdG
RTB / 1 Kill (Balloon) – All Good
2nd Lt John Roberts
RTB / No Kills – All Good
2nd Lt Peter Piper
EXP ET / WIA / 1 Kill (Plus successful bombing of enemy held pontoon bridge)
Roll 8 – 3 EXP -1 WIA -1 landed in water = 3. Injured - skip 1D6 Scenarios. Roll 2 – skip 2 scenarios
E&E:
Roll 10 – 1 EXP smoke – 1 WIC -1 WIA -1 ET = 6 In hiding, skip 1D2. Roll 1 skip 1 scenarios
Result: Skip 2 scenarios
Central Powers
Ltn Ernst Benzler PB; Wbs (Flight Leader)
SD FT / 1 Kill
Roll 7 – 1 SD = 6. Injured – skip 1D3 scenarios. Roll 2
Result – skip 1 scenario
Ltn Kurt Parschau Wbs
RTB / No kills All Good
Ltn Albert Fitzler WBb
RTB WIA / No kills
Roll 5 + 3 RTB – 1 WIA = 7. Injured – skip 1D2 scenarios. Roll 5 skip 2 scenarios
Result – Skip 2 scenarios
Victory Tally
Bridges : 1 destroyed - 5 points Bulldogs: 2 intact - 10 points Eagles
Balloon: Destroyed - 10 points Bulldogs
Aircraft: Downed - One SE5 - 2 points Eagles: One DVII - 2 points Bulldogs
Aircraft: Forced to retire - One SE5 on 13 damage points (1 extra aim bonus) - 1 point Eagles: One DVII on 15 damage points (2 extra aim bonus) - 1 point Bulldogs
Total : Entente 18 points
: Central Powers 13 points
Result: Marginal victory for the Bulldogs
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