We were greatly excited now over the fact that in a few weeks we
expected to have a new type of machine--a much faster and better one
all round. It also had two guns instead of one, which made a great
difference; so night and day we dreamt and thought of these new
machines and the time we would have when they arrived.
The next week was a quiet one, only a few Huns being seen, and the
engagements we had were short ones, at long ranges. But on the evening
of July 10th we had a most interesting time. The day had been very
cloudy, and there had been no flying. In the afternoon two of us
went off in a car to pick up some friends and bring them back to the
aerodrome in the evening. This was the day that Rachel was first found
and brought to be a member of our squadron. My flight was detailed
for a job at 7 o’clock that evening; but when that time arrived, the
clouds were so low we decided it would not be worth while going up, so
all roamed down to the tennis-court. The weather became a bit clearer
when we had finished three or four games of a set. It was part of a
tournament we were playing, and quite an interesting game was on when
suddenly a messenger came down with the news that six machines were
to leave the ground. We all ran to our machines. We were still in our
white flannels, and dressed more for comfort than a fight in the air.
There was no time to change, however, so into the machines we crawled
and started aloft. The Major, deciding there must be some excitement in
the air, otherwise we would not have been sent out, decided to follow
us.
Twenty minutes after we had been told on the tennis-court that a job
was on hand, we sighted some Huns flying slightly above us. It was
now a wonderful evening, everything clear as crystal, and one could
not but feel that such a thing as a German should not be allowed in
the sky, to spoil the beauty of the dying day. So, regardless of
position or tactics of any kind, I led straight into the German
formation. They were evidently a new squadron on that part of the
front. They were flying machines of a bright green--machines which
I had never seen before. However, they were no more courageous than
most of their comrades, and when they saw us coming, although they had
every advantage, they turned to go the other way. We cut them off,
and managed to come in partly underneath them. There were twelve of
them and seven of us, counting the Major, who had followed us into
the fight, and a merry mix-up began at once. Several times I became
entirely separated from the rest, and was in a very dangerous position.
Once, after chasing one of the Huns for a moment, I turned, to find
another one coming down directly at me, so I pulled up my nose to fire
straight at him. The same moment a third Hun came diving at me from
the side. He had an excellent shot, and knowing I could not shoot at
him at the moment, on he came. I felt I was certainly in a very tight
corner, when suddenly, with a flash of silver above me and the rattle
of a machine gun, I saw my Major’s machine go dead at the German. It
was a wonderful sight. The Hun quickly turned away, and at the same
time the other man who was attacking me turned also. I then lost sight
of the Major, but continued in the whirlwind of the fight. Round and
round each other the whole lot of us went, like a lot of sparrows in a
great whirlwind. Suddenly one of the Germans appeared just in front of
me, and I opened fire dead at him. Down he went out of control, and I
turned to engage some more, but after a few minutes they all dived away.
The people at home on the aerodrome were now having a most exciting
time. A little over half an hour after the patrol had left the ground
they saw a silver Nieuport come streaking home. It landed, and they
could see by the number that it was the Major’s machine. They went up
to him, and he quietly crawled out and spoke to the people around him,
saying that there was a big fight on over the lines, and we were all
in the middle of it. He then turned and walked to the office, where he
telephoned to report that he had been in a fight. Then, sending for
the medical orderly, informed him he had a “scratch.”
The medical orderly almost fainted when he saw blood pouring down the
Major’s sleeve. It turned out that when he had been diving to save
me, a chance bullet from one of the Huns, who was sitting safely at
the edge of the fight, had struck his machine, actually hitting the
switch, where it exploded, one fragment of it entering his forearm and
going right up above the elbow. It made a very nasty wound indeed. The
bullet, as well as smashing the switch and his arm, had done other
damage, destroying several instruments and breaking an oil-indicator.
The moment he realized that he had been hit, the Major carefully set
about with his other arm to turn off the oil and adjust the switch, so
that it would work properly. It was a delicate job, and all the time he
was bleeding freely. Then it was necessary to get clear of the fight.
This, of course, is a difficult thing to do at the best of times, but
in a case like the Major’s it would have seemed almost impossible.
Luck, however, favoured him, for at just that moment a chance came,
and he took it. He slipped away towards our lines and, losing height,
came toward home. The next thing he feared was the fact that he might
faint in the air from loss of blood, so, terrified of this, he held
his arm over the side in the cold air, and that partially stopped the
bleeding. He then came down and landed.
As I have said, the people at home were having a most exciting time.
The sudden leaving of the rest of us for a job over the lines had been
quite a dramatic affair, and now, as they sat on the ground, first
appeared one of the machines, back in half an hour, with its pilot
wounded, then not a sign of the rest for what seemed a very long time.
They wondered if we had all been shot down, or what in the world could
have happened. However, in an hour and a half the rest of us were back.
We had been looking carefully, in the hope that we would find some more
of the enemy, but had only seen two of them, which we were unable to
catch up with. We did not know what had happened to the Major until we
landed, by which time he had gone to the hospital. Four days later we
were all pleased to see him back on the job again, although, of course,
unable to fly. He had been operated on, but to lie in bed in a hospital
was agony for him, so, slipping away, he managed to get back to the
aerodrome, where he stayed. A few weeks later, unfortunately for us, he
was promoted to the rank of colonel, and left. The squadron felt very
badly at his loss for some time, and only the fact that the man who
took his place was also of the same calibre ever reconciled us to it at
all.
The Huns seemed now to be concentrating a lot of flying in the
evenings. Every evening, when we went out, we were certain of a fight,
and usually a long fight, sometimes lasting as long as half an hour,
and on one occasion lasting for three-quarters of an hour. These fights
were always referred to as “dog fights,” as it nearly always meant just
dashing in, then out again and in again, and never really doing any
harm, yet always in a terrible sort of mix-up.
On July 12th I was successful in coming up behind some Huns and
managed to get another one down--crashed. Then, for several days, I had
no more luck, although combats were numerous. On one occasion I was
nearly caught in a bad trap, when, on following a machine, I suddenly
saw about twenty more trying to close in around me. I left off the
chase, and got out just in time.
Almost every evening we would find well-laid traps set for us, and it
required careful manœuvring and tactics to avoid falling into them.
Several times, indeed, we did, and it took a lot of trouble to get out
safely. Four or five Huns would come along, and we would engage them;
then, while having a “dog fight,” suddenly as many as fifteen to twenty
more would appear from all angles and join in the fight. This thing
happened every day, and the Huns were evidently out to get us. They
were devoting every energy to it, and if the men in the air had been as
determined as the people on the ground who ordered them to go out, we
would have had a more difficult time of it.
One evening, while out, I managed to surprise a Hun, and got within 15
feet of his tail plane before I opened fire. Just a few shots, and he
burst into flames, and fell. His companion did not stay, and managed to
escape from me, diving vertically toward the ground. I shoved the nose
of my machine down until it was pointing vertically as well, opening
fire on him as the two of us dived; but his was a heavier machine than
mine, and it fell faster, so he rapidly increased the distance between
us, with the result that I was left behind. Coming out of my dive, I
headed in a homeward direction. On the way, I saw a large “dog fight”
going on, as many as twenty-five machines being engaged in it. I flew
over to the mêlée as fast as I could reach it, afraid as usual that
it would be over before I could get there; but luck was with me, as I
managed to catch, on the edge of the fight, an enemy who was trying to
attack one of our machines. He did not see me, and was flying straight
away, so the shot was an easy one and could not be missed. I opened
fire, and he fell out of control. Then, unable to watch him down, I
went on to the other combats. Later, some of the other people reported
they had seen him strike the earth, crash, and burst into flames; so
there was not much doubt as to his fate.
This “dog fight” lasted for twenty minutes after I had joined it.
Several times the only intimation I had that anyone was firing on me
would be the streaks of smoke as some bullets had passed near by.
Sometimes the shooting would be so bad it would be over a hundred yards
away; at other times within ten feet of me. But owing to the rapid way
in which one manœuvres during such a fight, it was a very difficult
thing to hit a man. The excitement of the fight, and the fact that
it is necessary to watch all the time to avoid colliding with your
friends, does not give one time to think of the danger of being hit,
and, to tell the truth, you do not realize that these little streaks of
smoke which go by you are really deadly bullets.
The next day, while out, I tried to surprise three of the enemy, but
failed, and found it necessary to engage the top one. I was slightly
under him, and it was a difficult proposition. However, I managed to
get as close as 50 yards and opened fire. The other two were now so
near me that I felt it unhealthy to concentrate my attention altogether
on one. For a few minutes, then, I had it rather warm. Every time one
would begin to fire at me, I would switch the nose of my machine in
his direction and fire a few bullets at random. This would make him
turn away for a second. Then I would switch it to another. Suddenly
an opportunity for escape presented itself. I took it as quickly as
it came, and managed to get clean away. I then flew higher, and later
found two more of the enemy, flying together. Again I decided to try
a surprise, and this time was successful. Thirty yards away I got my
sights well in line with a point on the enemy machine which would mean
that I was going to hit the pilot, and I pulled the trigger. A moment
later his machine side-slipped, turned completely over on its back, and
then went down. Anxious to make it a double success, I turned to catch
his comrade, but he had decided to escape, and was 300 yards away.
I fired a few shots at him, just to hurry him up, and then turned
to watch the machine I had brought down. It was still falling out of
control, and away below me I saw it tumbling like a piece of paper
thrown from a high window. Eventually it disappeared through the clouds.
I did not have any feeling of compunction in cases like this. The
idea of killing was, of course, always against my nature, but for two
reasons I did not mind it: one, and the greater one, of course, being
that it was another Hun down, and so much more good done in the war;
secondly, it was paying back some of the debts I owed the Huns for
robbing me of the best friends possible. Then, too, in the air one did
not altogether feel the human side of it. As I have said before, it was
not like killing a man so much as just bringing down a bird in sport.
In going into a fight now, I felt none of those thrills which I used
to feel at first. I was quite cool and collected, but probably did not
enjoy it as much as I did in the days when a certain amount of anxiety
and fear was felt just before the fight started. But the moment my
machine gun commenced to fire, I felt the old feeling of exultation,
and this always remained with me throughout the whole of every fight I
have had.