My record of machines brought down was now in the vicinity of twenty,
and I saw I had a rare chance of really getting a lot before going on
my next leave--at the end of my second three months at the front.
With this object in view I planned an expedition into the enemy
country, to attack an enemy aerodrome. I had carefully thought it out,
and came to the conclusion that if one could get to an aerodrome when
there were some machines on the ground and none in the air, it would be
an easy matter to shoot them down the moment they would attempt to come
up. It would be necessary for them to take off straight into the wind,
if there was a strong wind at all, so I could not be surprised that
way, and would be able to hit them if I came low enough, before they
would get a chance to manœuvre or turn out of my way.
I planned this expedition after much thought, and set it for June 2nd,
as that was to be my day off. Dawn was the hour I considered advisable,
as there would be very few machines in the air, and I would have a
great chance of evading trouble on the way to the aerodrome. I spent my
spare moments, the next few days, arranging the details.
In the meantime I had several more fights. On May 31st I went out in
the morning about 8 o’clock, and the sky seemed deserted. However, I
crossed over into enemy territory, and in a few minutes sighted two
machines. They were flying south. I followed, and suddenly they began
to spiral down. Apparently they had just finished their time in the
air, and were coming down to land. So I flew as quickly as I could, and
reached the nearest one, whom I attacked, firing a burst from 50 yards
range. I missed him completely, I think. He turned, and we had quite
a fight, lasting four or five minutes. Luckily, his companion had not
seen us, and had kept on going down. My opponent seemed a very good
man, and every time, just as I thought I was going to get in a burst
of fire, he would make some clever manœuvre and evade me altogether,
with the result that I was having a very hard time myself, and had
to keep my eyes open so that he would not get a good shot at me. For
a moment or two I was a bit worried, but suddenly I managed to get
slightly behind him, and at a favourable angle, only 15 yards away. I
pulled the trigger, and his machine fell out of control. Much pleased,
I waited over the spot to see him crash--which he did.
The next morning, remembering my bad shooting in the beginning of this
fight, I spent some extra time on the target at the aerodrome. During
that day I went out no less than four times, looking for a fight, but
in only one case did I even get near enough to open fire at an enemy
machine; that time only getting within 150 yards of it. Two of us went
after him, but, as usual, he decided that it was not healthy, and
putting his engine full on, dived away as quickly as he could go, to
the tune of our machine guns behind him. However, it had no result
except to frighten him. He did not return. The remainder of that day
all the German machines seemed very nervous, and we could not get
within range of any of them.
Now came the day planned for my expedition. I wrote my name on the
blackboard, the night before, to be called at 3 o’clock, and sat down
for the last time to consider exactly if the job was worth the risk.
However, as nothing like it had been done before, I knew that I would
strike the Huns by surprise, and, considering that, I decided the risk
was not nearly so great as it seemed, and that I might be able to get
four or five more machines to my credit, in one great swoop.
At 3 o’clock I was called and got up. It was pitch-black. I dressed,
and went in to tell two of my friends that I was off. They were
not entirely in favour of the expedition, and said so again.
Notwithstanding this, I went on to the aerodrome, and got away just as
the first streaks of dawn were showing in the upper sky.
I flew straight across the lines, towards the aerodrome I had planned
to attack, and coming down low, decided to carry out my plan and stir
them up with a burst of machine-gun fire into their hangar sheds. But,
on reaching the place, I saw there was nothing on the ground. Everyone
must have been either dead asleep or else the station was absolutely
deserted. Greatly disappointed, I decided I would try the same stunt
some other day on another aerodrome, which I would have to select.
In the meantime, for something to do, I flew along low over the
country, in the hope of coming on some camp or group of troops so as to
scatter them. I felt that the danger was nil, as most of the crews of
the guns which ordinarily would fire at me would still be asleep, and I
might as well give any Huns I could find a good fright. I was in rather
a bad temper at having my carefully laid plan fall through so quickly,
and nothing would have pleased me better than to have run across a
group of fat Huns drilling in a field, or something of that sort.
However, nothing appeared, and I was just thinking of turning and going
home, or of climbing up to see if there were some Huns in the upper
sky, when ahead, and slightly to one side of me, I saw the sheds of
another aerodrome, I at once decided that here was my chance, although
it was not a very favourable one, as the aerodrome was pretty far back
from the lines. To make good my escape from this place would not be as
easy as I had hoped. Furthermore, I was not even certain where I was,
and that was my greatest worry, as I was a bit afraid that if I had
any bad fights I might have trouble in finding my way back. Scurrying
along close to the ground, zigzagging here and there, one’s sense of
direction becomes slightly vague.
Another half-minute and I was over the aerodrome, about 300 feet up.
On the ground were seven German machines, and in my first glance I saw
that some of them actually had their engines running. Mechanics were
standing about in groups. Then I saw a thing which surprised me very
much--six of the machines were single-seaters, and one a two-seater. I
was not very anxious for the two-seater to come up to attack me, as in
taking off he would have a certain amount of protection from behind,
with his observer, while the single-seater could have none. However, in
this, luck also favoured me, as the two-seater did not move at all.
I pointed my nose towards the ground, and opened fire with my gun,
scattering the bullets all around the machines, and coming down to 50
feet in doing so. I do not know how many men I hit, or what damage was
done, except that one man, at least, fell, and several others ran to
pick him up. Then, clearing off to one side, I watched the fun. I had
forgotten by this time that they would, of course, have machine guns
on the aerodrome, and as I was laughing to myself, as they tore around
in every direction on the ground, like people going mad or rabbits
scurrying about, I heard the old familiar rattle of the quick-firers
on me. I did not dare go too far away, however, as then I would not
be able to catch the machines as they left the ground, so turning
quickly and twisting about, I did my best to evade the fire from the
ground. Looking at my planes, I saw that the guns were doing pretty
good shooting. There were several holes in them already, and this made
me turn and twist all the more. Then one machine suddenly began to
“taxi” off down the aerodrome. It increased its speed quickly, and I
immediately tore down after it. I managed to get close on its tail,
when it was just above the ground, and opened fire from dead behind
it. There was no chance of missing, and I was as cool as could be.
Just fifteen rounds, and it side-slipped to one side, then crashed on
the aerodrome underneath. I was now keyed up to the fight, and turning
quickly, saw another machine just off the ground. Taking careful aim
at it, I fired from longer range than before, as I did not want to
waste the time of going up close. For one awful moment I saw my bullets
missing, and aimed still more carefully, all the time striving to get
nearer. The Hun saw I was catching him up, and pushed his nose down;
then, gazing over his shoulder at the moment I was firing at him, he
crashed into some trees near the aerodrome. I think I hit him just
before he came to the trees, as my tracers were then going in an
accurate line.
I again turned towards the aerodrome. This time my heart sank, because
two machines were taking off at the same time, and in slightly
different directions. It was the one thing I had dreaded. There was
not much wind, and it was possible for them to do this. I had made up
my mind, before, that if they attempted to do this I would immediately
make good my escape, but I had counted on being higher. However, true
to my intention, I began to climb. One of the enemy machines luckily
climbed away at some distance, while the other made up straight after
me. At 1,000 feet, and only a few hundred yards from the aerodrome, I
saw that he was catching me, so turned on him and opened fire. We made
about two circuits around each other, neither getting a very good shot,
but in the end I managed to get in a short burst of fire, and this
machine went crashing to the ground, where it lay in a field, a few
hundred yards from the aerodrome.
The fourth machine then came up, and I opened fire on him. I was now
greatly worried as to how I was to get away, as I was using up all my
ammunition, and there seemed to be no end to the number of machines
coming up. I was afraid that other machines from other aerodromes
would also come in answer to telephone calls, and wanted to get away
as quickly as I could. But there was no chance of running from this
man--he had me cold--so I turned at him savagely, and, in the course of
a short fight, emptied the whole of my last drum at him. Luckily, at
the moment I finished my ammunition, he also seemed to have had enough
of it, as he turned and flew away. I seized my opportunity, climbed
again, and started for home.
To my dismay I discovered four enemy scouts above me. I was terrified
that they would see me, so flew directly underneath them, for some
time--almost a mile, I should think--going directly south. Then,
deciding that I must do something, I took the bit in my teeth and
slipped away. They did not attempt to attack me at all, so I am not
sure whether they even saw me or not.
I now headed in the approximate direction of our lines, and flew in
rather a dazed state toward them. I had not had any breakfast, and was
feeling very queer at my stomach. The excitement, and the reaction
afterwards, had been a bit too much, as well as the cold morning air.
It seemed, once or twice, that my head was going around and around, and
that something must happen. For the only time in my life it entered my
thoughts that I might lose my senses in a moment, and go insane. It was
a horrible feeling, and I also had the terrible sensation that I would
suffer from nausea any minute. I was not at all sure where I was, and
furthermore did not care. The thrills and exultation I had at first
felt had all died away, and nothing seemed to matter but this awful
feeling of dizziness and the desire to get home and on the ground.
By the time I reached the aerodrome, however, I felt much better,
and flew over our still sleeping huts, firing off my signal lights
frantically, to show them I had certainly had some success. I landed,
and my sergeant immediately rushed out and asked me how many I had
bagged. When I told him three, he was greatly pleased, and yelled it
back to the mechanics who were waiting by the shed. Then, as I crawled
out of my machine, I heard the remarks of the mechanics around me. They
were looking it over. Everywhere it was shot about, bullet-holes being
in almost every part of it, although none, luckily, within 2 feet of
where I sat. Parts of the machine were so badly damaged as to take a
lot of repairing; but I used the same patched planes in the machine for
some time afterward, and always felt great affection for it for pulling
me through such a successful enterprise. I personally congratulated the
man who had charge of my gun, suddenly realizing that if it had jammed
at a critical moment what a tight corner I would have been in.
Within three or four hours I had received many congratulations upon
this stunt, and what I had planned as merely a way of shooting down
some more of the Huns I found the authorities considered a very
successful expedition. It pleased me very much--and, of course, I have
always kept the telegrams of congratulations which I received that
day. At first I had been disappointed in the net result, for when I
started out I had rather hoped they would all take off as the first
machine did, and that I would be able to bag, at the very least, four.
But, on looking back at it, I think I was over-optimistic, and was very
lucky to have brought down as many as I did.
That afternoon I was still suffering from the excitement of the morning
and, although tired out, could not sleep, so with one other man I
climbed in my machine and flew about fifty miles south, to pay a visit
to another of our aerodromes there. We left to return about 5 o’clock
and had more excitement, as a rain-storm was coming up, and for the
last ten minutes had to plough through a drizzle. It was pretty dreary
work, and I was very glad to see the aerodrome again. An hour later I
was sound asleep in my bed, and did not awaken until the next morning.
Next morning we had a most discouraging time. For several days there
had not been many German machines on the lines, and we had been very
successful in stopping them from doing their artillery work. But on
this morning, when, with our usual confidence of finding only one or
two, we slipped across the lines after them, we suddenly made out
everywhere, groups of four or five; and, counting them up, I found
there were no less than twenty-three German machines within three
miles of the front. There were only three of us, so it was rather
puzzling what to do. In some way we had to stop the machines from doing
artillery work, and it was not a very pleasant prospect for three to
pile into the middle of over twenty, with the likelihood of still more
coming from other directions. However, we stayed just on the German
side of the line, and they did not seem very anxious to attack us. So,
whenever two or three would get separated from the others, we would
pretend to go near them, and they would shy away towards the rest of
their machines. It was terribly annoying to have to sit there and see
so many fat Huns go unmolested, and after we landed we agreed that if
it ever happened again, one of us would go back, get more machines
to help, and then we would engage the lot in a real battle royal. So
many times we could not find any of them, when we were just dying for a
fight; now they were in such huge numbers it would be folly to mix up
with them.
We managed to have three short goes at different artillery machines in
the course of half an hour next day, but they were not “having any,”
however, and turned away and fled towards home.
Another time, while flying on the lines, my engine suddenly stopped
dead. Nothing I could do had any effect on it, and I glided back toward
home. At first I was a bit afraid I would not even clear the shell
area, and it meant crashing into some deep hole, but there was a slight
wind behind me, and with the help of this I glided on and on into clear
country, where there was an aerodrome.
In one week I had no less than three engine failures, although I have
hardly ever had one at any other time. But, as luck would have it, I
was always able to glide down and just reach the same aerodrome. I
got to know it quite well by the end of the week.
[Illustration:
Canadian Official Photograph
The Lewis Gun on my Nieuport.]
On June 8th fortune favoured me. I had had two indecisive combats,
when, to my great joy, I saw in the distance another layer formation
of six Huns in groups of two. So I manœuvred again, to attack the
top pair. After creeping up slowly and carefully behind one of them,
I opened fire, and he went straight away into a spinning nose-dive,
which he could not come out of, and crashed into the ground. The other
machine of the top layer saw me, but had no desire to fight, and dived
away immediately toward the rest of his formation. I pointed my nose
down at him and fired, but he was too far away and escaped.
This was again my day off, so I had deserted my own part of the lines
and flown away up north where the battle of Messines was raging, and I
had heard there were more German machines up in that direction. It was
a good tip, and I was glad I had come.
A little later I saw the same or another formation of four, flying
about in a group. I did not feel like going down and getting into the
middle of them, so I stayed above and tried the old game of diving and
coming up again, just to worry them. It evidently did, as they only
stood for it twice, and then, losing height, made away as fast as they
could go.
Over a week passed now before I had another fight at all. Many times
I sighted enemy aircraft, but they were always in the distance, and
after a hot chase I would have to give it up. Then would come the
disagreeable return journey against the anti-aircraft fire. By this
time I was getting to hate the German guns, as they often caught me
at low altitude and made the way home so nasty. One night when a
shell burst near me, I happened to see the flash of the gun that was
firing, and as it was almost directly beneath me, I threw my machine
out of control, with a sudden inspiration, and let it fall for several
thousand feet. Then, about two thousand feet from the ground, I
opened fire at the battery on the ground. I was too high to see just
what effect my fire had, but it evidently silenced them, and from
later results certainly annoyed them very much, because every time I
crossed the line on “Blue Nose,” this gun would open fire fiercely,
concentrating on me, no matter how many other machines were in the air.
About five miles south of this position, on another day, I was
flying at a height of 2,000 feet, and saw another “Archie” firing,
so I dived down to about 500 feet from the ground and scattered some
flaming bullets around him. This battery also gave “Blue Nose” special
attention from that day on.
It became a favourite habit of ours, about this time, when there were
no enemy machines up above, to come down low and attack the enemy
trenches, from a height of from 100 to 500 feet. We would come down
behind them, and, diving at them that way, open fire. It evidently
frightened the Huns very much, from reports which we later heard.
In the June evenings the sky was a beautiful sight at sunset. If there
was any wind blowing at all, the mist would be cleared away, and one
could see almost to the end of the world. The ground was a riot of
beautiful colours, and the dusty roads stretched away like long white
ribbons.