A new kind of enemy was meeting us now--a two-seater machine which
mounted a small cannon, or shell-firing gun. This was a sort of
“pom-pom” gun, discharging about a one-pound shell, which would either
burst upon percussion or after travelling a certain distance through
the air. Several times, while attacking machines doing artillery work,
we were surprised to see little white puffs around us, and realized
suddenly that these were small bursting shells. However, they did no
harm that I know of, and the Huns did not seem to be able to make even
decent shooting with them. The first two or three times we met up with
them they rather frightened us, and we kept away from their field of
fire, but after a little bit of experience we found there was nothing
to worry about. Their shooting was so bad the shells invariably burst
well to one side. Personally, I much preferred “pom-pom” to the wicked
rattle of a pair of machine guns pointing at me and their smoking
bullets whining by.
Day after day we chased these machines away from their work, only to
have to go out an hour later and chase them again. Sometimes we would
force them right down to the ground, and that would often finish them
for the day, but it was very seldom that anything decisive occurred.
On June 24th in the early morning, while leading a patrol, I ran into
a German pilot of exceptional quality. Another fighting patrol of ours
had been attacking him, when I saw him, and I headed in their direction
to watch the fight, but they evidently had had enough of it, and left
him. We, in our turn, took him on, and there followed an extremely hot
engagement. He managed to get into the middle of us, and it was all we
could do to keep from colliding as we attacked him. Finally, to add
to our disgust, he broke off the combat of his own sweet will just at
the moment he felt he had had enough, and dived away. As we followed,
diving after him, he would turn under us, then dive again, and repeat
this performance. It was a most trying thing. I would dive after him,
then the moment I stopped firing and pulled up to turn and watch where
he went, I would probably just miss by inches one of our own machines,
also diving at him, with his eyes on nothing but the enemy. The danger
of collision in such an attack is very great, and requires a constant
look-out.
Later in the morning I went out again, alone, and saw two enemy scouts.
I climbed up above them, and watched carefully, deciding that I would
take no chances of losing them. Finally, I discovered that they were
patrolling a given beat, and by waiting up above, at one end of this
beat, I was able, just at the moment that they turned to go back along
it again, to dive down, approaching them from behind, and come up
behind the rear one without him seeing me. I got within 20 yards of
him, and, just slightly underneath and behind, I pulled the nose of
my machine up and with very careful aim opened fire. A second later
and his machine smoked a bit, then suddenly burst into flames and fell
toward the ground. The other one had dived away from me at first, but
now climbed back to attack me. I dived at him twice, and opened fire
both times, but without result. The second time I think he was hit, but
not seriously, as he dived away and escaped, going through the clouds.
Not long after that I met three more of the enemy, and had a funny
fight with them, by worrying them from above. In the course of a number
of short dives I suddenly ran out of ammunition. They had seemed, up
to this moment, quite keen to fight, and so was I, but now I decided
I must get away somehow. I was somewhat surprised when I discovered
that at the same moment I commenced to escape, they also did. We both
noticed at the same time that the other side was willing to break it
off, and as the Hun turned to attack me behind, while I was escaping,
I turned to try to bluff him away. It worked perfectly, and the whole
three of them again turned their noses east and flew away. It had been
some time since I had brought down an enemy machine, and I hoped the
one in flames this day would change my luck for the better again. I
think it did, for in the week which followed I brought down five in all.
Victory flew with me the following day when I managed to get two more
scouts on my list. While flying alone, I saw three of them protecting
a two-seater. They were very intent upon watching their charge and had
not noticed me, so I flew away some distance and climbed well above
them, to make certain they had no machines in layer formation above.
Then I dived on the three scouts. Again I surprised the rear man, and
after twenty-five rounds, well placed, he burst into flames and went
down. The other two were at the moment turning towards me; but upon
seeing the fate of their comrade, one of them dived away and went
down near the two-seater. The other one turned to engage me. In the
short fight that followed, he got some bullets very close to me, and
I to him, but for three or four minutes neither of us seemed able to
get an appreciable advantage of the other. Then, suddenly I managed
to get a chance from an angle I knew very well, and opened fire. He
immediately dropped out of control, and I dived after him, firing as
he fell. Having finished one drum of ammunition, I had to come out
of the dive to put a new one on. The other scout and two-seater were
still in the same place, so getting above them I tried two dives, but
without result. The observer on the two-seater was doing remarkably
good shooting, and I did not like to get too close, as it seemed a poor
way to end a morning’s work by being shot down after starting so well.
Finishing my ammunition at fairly long range, I returned home.
My luck still held the next day when I found some more scouts, in
straggling formation. The rear one was slightly above the rest, which
was very much to my liking, so down I went after him. Again the
surprise was successful, and, after a short burst, out of control he
went. I was getting quite callous in doing this, and was afraid of
myself becoming careless. The only danger I ran was in the fact that
I might become careless, and if caught while creeping up behind these
people, and they had a chance to turn on me, it would be a very unhappy
position to be in. However, this time it was as successful as the rest,
and as two more scouts who were next highest seemed willing to fight,
I went down after them. As I approached, one of the two lost his nerve
and dived away. The other made a turn to come at me, but I opened fire,
with rough aim, while still a hundred yards away. It was a purely lucky
shot, and one of my bullets must have accidentally hit an important
wire in his machine, as suddenly, while doing an exceedingly quick
turn, two of his planes flew away and his machine fell in pieces.
I did not have any more luck for several days, most of my fights being
in the usual job of chasing away artillery machines--taking all the
risks, and never having a chance to get in a decent shot.
A few days later, while out in the morning, thick clouds prevented
our seeing very much. Several times, while going around or under the
clouds, I would suddenly catch sight of an enemy machine, then lose it
again a moment or two later. Once I saw a scout about 300 yards away,
but he immediately dived toward some clouds, and I could only open fire
from long range in the hope of frightening him down. Meeting up with
one of my own squadron, who was also flying alone, a few minutes later,
we discovered a machine directly underneath us. Down we both went at
him, and opened fire, but he also disappeared into a cloud, and we flew
away. Five minutes later he again appeared beneath us. Down at him we
went, but again he dug himself into the clouds.
After each fight it would be necessary to make certain where you were,
as a strong wind from the west kept blowing the machines in toward
Hunland. I had five fights in the course of the morning, but none of
them was successful or very exciting.
The next day at noon, however, I had enough excitement to last me for
some time. While on patrol and flying nearly three miles up, I saw
approaching us from the direction of Germany a fast Hun two-seater
of the enemy. I guessed at once he thought to cross our lines, and
flew to attack him. He had seen us, however, and headed in the other
direction immediately. I found I could not catch up with him, so, in
great disgust, gave up the chase; then, on thinking it over, decided
that if he had orders to cross the lines he would probably make another
attempt. So I flew well off to one side and climbed as fast as I could.
I could just see him--a speck in the distance--and could see that he
also was climbing. Finally, when he reached what he surmised was a safe
height he approached our lines again. I did not make another attempt
to stop him, hoping that he would get well across, and then I would
come between him and his own country. He saw me attempt to do this,
and evidently hoped to evade me by climbing up still higher. A height
of eighteen thousand feet was reached, and we were still climbing at
about the same pace. He went well into our territory, and I followed
at a great distance, watching carefully; then, the moment he started
for home, went after him. At 19,500 feet we approached each other. I
opened fire while coming head-on at him. He swerved slightly, and in
doing so upset my aim. If we had been lower, I would certainly have hit
him, but the great height and great cold had made my hand numb and a
little unsteady in controlling the machine. He flew across, in front of
me, and I turned with him to get in another shot. His observer’s face I
could make out, as he was firing his gun frantically at me. We passed
only about 10 yards apart, yet I was shooting so badly I did not bring
him down. Then, in holding the nose of my machine up, to get a last
shot at him, I lost too much speed, and suddenly fell several thousand
feet completely out of control. By the time I had straightened out the
enemy had escaped, and, in disgust, I rejoined the rest of the patrol
and continued to fly up and down the lines.
Just as we intended returning, I saw five of the enemy some distance
away, and underneath us, so flew over and engaged them from above. The
fight was at 7,000 feet, the height I liked the best, so I went into
it vigorously. Suddenly, while diving on a Hun machine, I heard the
rattle of a pair of machine guns just behind me. I was certain that I
had been trapped and was being fired at from a few feet behind me, so
turned quickly, just to see one of our own machines shoot by underneath
me. I continued my dive again, but the opportunity was lost, so went
down after another one of the machines. For ten minutes this fight
continued. Many times I would dive down, open fire, and then come up
and turn away, at the same time avoiding others of our machines which
were diving and firing as they came. At last I was successful. One of
the Germans seemed to be enjoying the fight and had the impudence to
loop directly under me. I happened to be diving just as he reached the
top of the loop, and as he was coming out of it I got a direct shot on
to the bottom of his machine, as it was turned upside-down. He fell out
of control and crashed on the ground underneath us.
Another machine had now joined the fight--a machine from one of our
naval squadrons stationed in France--and he also was doing very
well, as I saw a machine which he fired at fall out of control. Then
suddenly, the remainder of the Germans--they had been reinforced by
others--turned away and escaped, flying very near the ground. We
returned home, and I waved to our new acquaintance from the naval
squadron, so he followed me back to the aerodrome and landed beside me,
to tell me that he had also seen my machine crash. It turned out that
this man was the one who was leading the naval flyers and was next to
me, at that time, in the number of machines which had been brought down
by an Englishman then in France. It was his twenty-fifth machine.