OTT EYM Mission 4 Bombs and Blonds - 4th February 1917 AAR by Mike
OTT EYM Mission 4 – Bombs and Blonds - 4th February 1917 – AAR by Mike
Lt Harold Isore marvelled at the view. He was thousands of feet above the English Channel, with wonderful views to Blighty on his port side and much of northern France to starboard. Just amazing. He was also enjoying the experience of flying a Short 184 for the first time. Quite how this happened is maybe too long a story for now, but it involves a conversation that Uncle had, with somebody he knew at the Admiralty, who called in a favour. That and his daft as a brush observer volunteering; yes, volunteering to help, based solely on his overhearing the words “need one of your chaps to rescue a young maiden from Belgium”. AM1 William Conker, therefore, was largely responsible for the pair of them being there. Given how much he was enjoying the experience, Harold wasn’t sure whether he should be annoyed, or grateful. He decided on the latter.
He also kept a weather eye on the others. A/Lt Bo Fletcher was watching his 3 o’clock, whilst on the opposite side was 2nd Lt Christopher Crossley, both flying Sopwith Pups. He couldn’t see the fourth member of the party, but he knew he was right behind and below them. That was F/Sgt Charles Drake, on his own, in a two seater Sopwith 1 ฝ Strutter. He was the lucky lad who had the job of rescuing the young maiden. AM1 Conker was quite put out about that. He thought he’d get the job, but instead was roundly rebuked for eaves dropping where he had no right to be.
As it turned out, the “young maiden” had been passing on valuable information to the authorities, back in England, concerning the construction of submarine pens in the harbour of Zeebrugge. But she had been tipped off, by another member of the “Spy” group, that her activity had been compromised. So, not wishing to end up in front of a firing squad, she had begged to be hauled out of Belgium and taken somewhere safer. We were obliging because she was “known” to the chap at the Admiralty. Say no more, nudge, nudge, wink, wink, know what I mean?
So there it was, Isore and Conker were off to bomb the pens, whilst Drake attempted to duck down to a temporary airstrip, prepared by the locals, and rescue said spy. Not a bad little adventure and an exciting change from the routine work carried out on a daily basis back at the barn.
They flew north east along the coast, to avoid enemy aircraft as best they could, before turning towards Oostende and Bruges for a short while, then again turning north east to approach the target area from landward.
All went smooth as clockwork until shortly before they reached their destination, where, not far from Zeebrugge, they were observed by three enemy aircraft. These Albatros types had, it appeared, been on a patrol along the coast and were flying west looking for trouble.
The Short flying boat, meanwhile, together with its’ escorts, lumbered on towards the Submarine pen construction site, which could now clearly be seen.
F/Sgt Drake broke away from the formation and started his descent, intending to circle around to the fields on the far side of the Belgian town. It was there that the resistance had arranged for him to land and take the spy on board.
It looked very much like the enemy aircraft were biding their time, waiting for the right moment to attack. Or perhaps the British aircraft hadn’t yet been spotted after all.
Then, just as the Short 184 and its’ escorts swung towards their target, so too did the three Albatros pilots make their moves.
There was no doubt now. The bomber and its’ escorts had definitely been spotted and the enemy were turning in their direction, intent on interception. Let the fun begin.
A/Lt Bo Fletcher and his wingman 2nd Lt Christopher Crossley responded aggressively, flying ahead of the bomber, heads down, teeth gritted and wicked grins on their faces; not surprisingly mirrored, almost identically, by the Germans. Ltn Johannes Schmidt, flying an Albatros DI, was fairly new to the “game” and headed off towards his enemy with an excited whoop. His flight leader, Ltn Theodor Ehmann, was rather more experienced and not particularly pleased with Schmidt. Never the less he turned with him in his Albatros DII, determined to make the best of a somewhat miss timed attack. Bringing up the rear of this threesome was Vzfwbl Georg Wenelmuth, the only one of the three with a “victory” already to his name. He was flying another Albatros DI.
Schmidt and Crossley exchanged fire first. There was a sharp clatter of machine gun fire from both aircraft, plenty of bullets hurtling through the space between them and beyond, but not a single one landing where it was supposed to. Then Schmidt’s guns jammed, much to his dismay!
Crossley (Pup blue spot) continued to blast away, now at the next Albatros in line (DII green spot), once more neither pilot having any success, but Bo Fletcher (Pup yellow spot) was by far the better shot this time, as he swung into action and caught Schmidt’s Albatros (orange spot) in flank, setting something on fire. Schmidt screamed involuntarily. He hated fire!
Neither was Fletcher in any mood to relent as he poured further rounds into the mount of the unfortunate Schmidt, who then promptly found himself shot at by the gunner in the bomber as well.
AM1 William Conker was not on form though, not yet anyway, and missed completely. His gun jammed too, so both he and Schmidt grabbed their mallets (word had got around) and started bashing frantically at their machine guns, in an attempt at unjamming the beasts.
And still the determined Fletcher flew on firing away at anything in his way, this time giving Georg Wenelmuth a piece of his mind and lead to go with it. Wenelmuth, had by this time, executed a skilful about turn, with the intention of getting on the tail of Hawker’s Pup. But his excellent plan was scuppered when his rudder controls went slack. Things were definitely going poorly for the Kaiser’s Eagles at the moment!
And now the submarine pens began to loom large in the flying boats’ bomb sight. A few adjustments were required to the approach, but things looked very positive and the crew were more than hopeful.
Not so Charlie Drake in the Strutter. He was having difficulty identifying the temporary airstrip which he had been promised would be in place by the time they arrived. There was a rather sick looking area down in the fields, which appeared to have had weed killer or some such spread all over it. Was that it? He’d have to make a decision about it pretty quickly, otherwise, if that were the correct place, chances are he would miss it and have to spend more time circling around. Not a thought he relished.
Alas, for the German pilots, their woes continued to haunt them. The fire on board Schmidt’s DI refused to go out and Ehmann suffered the consequences of his jammed rudder. Crossley turned the tables on the latter and gave him a few rounds of lead to think about, although, fortunately for the German, Crossley’s gun jammed for a second time. Ye Gods was he annoyed with that and out came the mallet once more.
Back with the Strutter, Drake dithered, but on board the Short 184, the decision was made. Lt Harold Isore pulled the big bird as hard over to port as he could and “Bombs Away”. And that was it. All 520 lbs of them sailing earthward from six thousand feet. What were the chances of them landing in the right place? Well you might be interested to know the following snippet of information. Apparently, “On 9 May 1916, a Short 184 seaplane, using a bomb sight developed by Bourdillon and Tizard, hit a target with a 500-pound bomb from a height of 4,000 feet.” So we may assume the chances were reasonable.
(Please note I messed up the photos on this one and although it looks like I bombed incorrectly, rest assured I did make certain the bomb travelled the full two cards straight manoeuvre distance before hitting the target. The distance looks rather short simply because the straight manoeuvre for the Short is also rather short – if you see what I mean).
There was a tremendous explosion down in the dock area a short while later and in a day or so, the spies still lingering around the port area of Zeebrugge, would report much discontent amongst the Germans building the submarine pens, a large number of casualties amongst the crew of a submarine that had been in the dock at the time and the sinking of that submarine, just to put icing on the cake. The chap at the Admiralty was thus far going to be delighted.
But I digress. What of goings on elsewhere? Well, because his gun was jammed, Crossley regrettably turned away from Georg Wenelmuth and headed off to join his flight leader, who was in the process of trying to hunt down the still flaming scout belonging to Ltn Theodor Ehmann.
At the same time, Drake was still dithering – shall I, or shan’t I?
“I shall” was the answer. At the last minute, even though there was no sign of life down there, Drake decided to attempt the landing. Had he left it too late, could he pull the Strutter around in time to make a clean landing? Well no actually. Not likely I’m afraid! Methinks he left it too late or simply miscalculated the angles and the wind direction and just about everything else. But was it a complete disaster? You’ll have to wait to find out, I think, as there are other important activities in progress.
I’m talking about what’s happening to the fight between the enemy scouts. Now, I’ve been wondering, recently, why it is that our Aussie friend, Bo Fletcher, is always smiling and how it is that he has managed to achieve Acting Lieutenant status. The answer is now plain for all to see. He’s a very “Lucky Git” (He himself thinks it is more a matter of his being a very skilful pilot – OK I’ll give him that one). But today it is definitely the Lucky Git that’s determining his future. Because, despite his misfortunes and a burning aircraft to boot, Ltn Johannes Schmidt, managed to out manoeuvre the Australian, for once, and catch him what should have been a deadly blow, sufficient to send him packing. But no! Just the luck of the devil and a missed opportunity for Schmidt. Which isn’t to say that he didn’t surprise Bo Fletcher and force a “What the Hell” from him. He did. And it left Bo’s Pup smoking a great deal, which won’t do Bo’s reputation any good at all. But he survived to continue the good fight.
Not so the unlucky Schmidt. The fire on his Albatros DI was now burning more fiercely than before. And also, once more, the now really brassed off Ltn Johannes Schmidt is attacked by Christopher Crossley, who has successfully unjammed his gun again and who now sets yet another fire going on board the Albatros DI, wounding the pilot in the process. Schmidt has had enough. It was definitely time to get the hell out of there.
So the Kaiser’s Eagles were down to two, with an important job or three still to do. How would they cope I wonder?
Now we can return to another interesting decision making moment. Charles Drake, against the odds, has managed, so far, to land and keep his wheels on firm, preprepared ground, for indeed, this was the airstrip he’d found. But as he trundled ever further to an inevitably stickier end than he wanted, so Ltn Theodor Ehmann flew overhead, close enough to make him out. Mmmmm, Ehmann was faced with a choice. What was that aircraft doing down there on the ground? It didn’t look in a healthy position, so perhaps it was forced down by one of the others or maybe it had engine trouble!
Then the factor which made his mind up for him came all too close, as bullets from the big flying boat he was chasing, came whizzing very near to his ears. “The bird in the air is worth two on the ground” he muttered, in badly accented English, getting the saying completely wrong of course. And off he went in hot pursuit of the Short 184. Was that a mistake? We shall see, for chance is a fine thing and fate will have its’ way.
Off he flew, thrilled to the chase. And being a good, confident shot, most of the time, he let loose at long range, hoping for some good results. But instead, he was shocked when the impudent rear gunner in that fat lumbering goose of a so called aircraft had the cheek to return fire and, what’s more hit something important. The engine in his DII announced its intention to misbehave and grunted loudly before the Albatros that carried it slowed down, if not catastrophically, certainly inconveniently. “Scheisse” was all he could think of screaming in frustration. Just when he had his victim dead to rights. And to add insult to injury, his wingman, coming from the opposite direction, scored some really big hits on the bird.
So it was necessary to get his bus back home again. But nothing ventured, nothing gained. He had to have one last go at that fat goose.
Ratatat tat went his machine gun again. Huh, that’ll teach him. Ratatat tat again went the gun, then stopped altogether, as more bullets hit his own beloved machine. Then the final straw, so far as Ltn Ehmann was concerned. A parting gift from AM1 William Conker, which Ehmann experienced as searing pain associated with lead meeting flesh and bone, and the redoubtable Ltn realized the game was up for the day. Time for him to go home. So now the Kaiser’s Eagles were down to one. William Conker thought he could make out the evidence of the wound he had inflicted, when the enemy pilot flinched dramatically in his cockpit. “Keep off my tail in future Mein Herr” he whispered to himself, as the Albatros turned and flew away.
So now, back to Ltn Johannes Schmidt, the relative greenhorn lacking in experience until now but not enjoying his learning curve one bit. What happened to him while all this was going on?
With his aircraft now seriously damaged by fire and with the fire refusing stubbornly to go out, Schmidt finally managed to detach himself from the marauding Pups. In a last ditch desperate attempt to survive, he threw his machine into an impossible to survive over dive – and the fire went out. He did survive the moment. His aircraft was just about serviceable enough to limp home, so off he went, with a hop and a skip, back to the comfort of an enormous glass of Schnaps – or so he hoped! Thus far, he too was one lucky son of a Dachshund.
As for those marauding Pups, they chased off after the other DI, in the capable hands of Vzfwbl Georg Wenelmuth, last seen pouring a considerable amount of lead into the Short 184. But 2nd Lt Crossley made a serious error of judgement in his eagerness to close with the latter. He closed too far and “whump”, the two aircraft collided and in this the Pup was no match for the Albatros. Crossley realised he was another lucky so and so this day. To survive such a mid air crash was definitely unusual. But it was off home for him too. The odds were slightly evened up again. Bo Fletcher witnessed the accident but never the less ruthlessly fired in its direction anyway, aiming for the Hun bird. He missed!
Then, just to add to the confusion, out of the deep blue haze that was the sea, came the lumbering flying boat, just in time for the Albatros to attempt its escape from the trap by flying beneath the great expanse of linen.
And although the two Pups did their best to bring one another down with a further collision, in this endeavour they happily failed and Fletcher was able to score a few hits on the departing Eagle.
Harold Isore, piloting the Short 184, saw the flock of birds in front of him and under him and pulled hard on the joystick, he didn’t want to be part of such a dance, thank you very much. Turning right he banked enough so that the Albatros was exposed to his observer’s gun. Conker was delighted and let rip. There was a cloud of black smoke then a sharp crack and in a ball of tangled wood and fabric, the Eagle landed, or rather splashed, unceremoniously, into the water below, hopefully close enough to the shoreline for its pilot to be able to swim to safety, if he had managed to survive the downward spiral of what remained of his bird.
And then there were none! One Hun down and two sent packing. Which leaves us with a clear field to finish the business.
As you have already witnessed, if you were looking carefully enough, Charles Drake had ended up in rough pasture, having mis-judged both his speed and approach angle to the makeshift airstrip.
Fortunately there were a few helping hands around to get his Strutter back on to the right path again. Drake was a little nervous when he first saw them, as the men were all carrying guns and he wasn’t sure which side they were on. But there, in the group, was the “young maiden” he had come for. Reassuringly, she approached to introduce herself.
“Hello my darling” said Charlie Drake.
“What?” she replied angrily. “I am not your darling, idiot! And how is it you cannot land this machine properly. This is costing us time and I need to get away from here quickly. I have something very important for your man at the Admiralty, so kindly dispense with the stupid remarks and get us out of here”.
And with that, she climbed into the observer’s cockpit, checked that the machine gun was all in working order, firing off a few rounds pretty expertly, then slapped Drake hard on the shoulder to tell him to get going.
Drake was no longer inclined to argue and was wondering just who this man in the Admiralty was.
He checked everything over nervously, then began his take off run.
The Strutter bounced its way forward and along the sick looking grass before gently lifting off the ground to begin its ascent to the heavens. It was a long way to go before they would reach the safety of their own lines. But at least there no longer appeared to be any opposition around to interfere with their progress. Quite frankly, Charles Drake was going to be relieved to get rid of this fiery cargo. He couldn’t wait for that nice hot cup of char. “Good luck to the Admiralty chap”. He thought. “He’s welcome!”
And that was that. Time to go home for tea. Job well done!
The end
Victory points
Entente
Bomber hits target – 20
Scout shot down – 5
Scouts FRTB – 4
Total – 29
Central Powers
Scout FRTB – 2
Total - 2
Result – Pretty decisive win for the Entente
The Butcher’s Bill
Entente
Lt Harold Isore: (P2) - Short 184 - RTB / 0 kills
All good
AM1 William Conker: (O) - Short 184 - RTB / 1 Kill; 1 Probable FRTB-E/W
All good
F/Sgt Charles Drake: - Strutter - RTB / 0 kills
All good
A/Lt Bo Fletcher: - Pup (yellow spot) - RTB / 0 kills
All good
2nd Lt Christopher Crossley: - Pup (Blue Spot) - FRTB-D / 0 kills, 1 probable FRTB-D Note: Hawker hors de combat from Mission 3 Subbed in Crossley !
FRTB Roll 5+5 = Crashed !
Rolled 11 +1RTB -1FRTB = 11 - All well when you crash land well !
All good
Central Powers
Ltn Theodor Ehmann: - Albatros DII (Green spot) - FRTB-E&W / WIA / 0 kills
FRTB Roll 4+2 = Landed safely
C/W Rolled 8 +1RTB -1WIA = 8 - Injured - Skip 1D2 Scenario, Rolled 1 = Skip 1
Ltn Johannes Schmidt: - Albatros DI (Orange spot) - FRTB-D / WIA / 0 kills
FRTB Roll 6 + 3 = Landed safely
C/W Rolled 6 +1RTB -1WIA = 6 - Injured - Skip 1D3 Scenarios, Rolled 3 = Skip 2.
Vzfwbl Georg Wenelmuth: - Albatros DI (Yellow spot) - EXP-FT-SEA / 0 kills, 1 Probable FRTB-D
Rolled 8 -3EXP -1SEA = 4 - Injured - skip 1D6 scenarios, Rolled 4 = Skip 4.
Notes: Flew the bomber on D6 H chart. Escorting Pups mirrored bomber movement until EA spotted. Thereafter on the D8 D* chart adjusted for the Sopwith pup. Flew the Strutter myself.
Choice between DII chasing Bomber or going after the Strutter on the ground was a random choice using a D6.
Thanks for a great Mission Baz – really enjoyed it. The reversal of setup positions was agreed with Baz prior to play commencing. I tried to measure everything accurately, marking out the play area with bomb crater markers which can be seen in some of the photos. The only problem occurring after the start was realizing, like Paul, that if I wasn’t careful the CP scouts might take an awful long time to spot the Entente aircraft, given that the only information elsewhere on the site, giving a contact distance, is two range ruler lengths. Instead I chose four range ruler lengths, peg stack to peg stack. That worked for me. I just hope nobody feels it gave the Entente an unfair advantage, as the following AI card choices really didn’t go their way. Enough said.
Mike
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To make up for it, I also noticed that I forgot a return shot from the Short 184 to The DII, two shots before the one that wounded the pilot of the latter. Well there you go. Another senior moment 
Originally Posted by Stumptonian
Love the terrain - great coastline.
There you go, done it for you 
Well spotted 
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