I could hardly hold myself down after hearing the great news.
Walking across the aerodrome to the squadron headquarters, which was
stationed on the other side, I had tea with the men there and then came
back. The next night we had a big celebration in the way of a dinner,
and managed to collect guests who came quite big distances to be there.
It was a wonderful success, lasting until after midnight, and several
of our guests remained all night and returned early the next morning.
I had a most exciting fight soon after this. The Germans seemed to know
my machine, which I had had specially marked with red, white, and blue
paint, and in nearly every fight I found that many attempts were made
to trap me. Several times I had very narrow escapes in getting away,
but always managed at the last moment to squeeze out of it.
It was while flying just under the clouds, I suspected a trap, as the
machine with which I was fighting did not seem particularly anxious
to come to close quarters, so pulled my machine back and “zoomed” up
through the clouds. The layer was very thin, and I suddenly emerged in
the blue sky on the upper side, and just as I did so, I saw the last of
a group of German scouts diving vertically. A little to one side there
was a huge black burst of German high explosive. The whole thing was
obvious to me at once. The pilot under the clouds had led me to this
particular spot, while the people above had been signalled when to dive
through to get me.
My revenge was very sweet, because in the heat of the moment, not
minding the odds, I dived after them. I came out to find them still
diving in front of me, so being not far from one machine, and directly
behind it, I opened fire with both guns. It did not need careful
shooting; the man went down, never knowing he was hit, continuing his
dive straight into the ground. I then pulled up and climbed back into
the clouds, and over them, and got away without even a bullet-hole in
my machine.
That same afternoon I had several more fights, and ran up against my
silver friend again. He was a most persistent rascal, although not very
brave in actual fight, and would never leave me alone when I was trying
to quit a combat. Several times he followed me right back over our own
side of the lines, firing every chance he could get. But even when he
was fairly certain my guns were not working, he would not come to close
quarters, which, however, was probably lucky for me. He was not a good
shot from long range, but the next day he managed to get underneath one
of our machines and shot it about quite badly, causing it to return at
once and land, seriously damaged.
Several indecisive fights took place about this time, much on the same
lines as many others I have described; each one as exciting as the
others, but much the same story, both sides ending by breaking off the
combats and returning. Several times we lost pilots, and also several
times others of the squadron shot down enemy machines.
The weather was very bad for some time after this, and although we
prayed and prayed for just a few days to get a chance to fight, each
morning would find us more restless and worked up because there did not
seem to be a chance to get into the air at all.
I was especially keen at this time to fly every moment that was
possible, because I had learned a few days before that I would probably
be returned to England shortly, for a job there of some sort. I was
not at all keen on this, but being a soldier it was not, of course, my
opinion that counted, and my work was simply to do as I was told, and
to go where I was sent.
One evening I fell into a very nasty trap indeed, just at dusk. I
had suddenly seen a single machine of the enemy in front of me, and
slightly below. It seemed too good to be true, and I should have known
that there was something funny about it; however, down I went on top
of him, but somehow missed with my first burst of fire. He dived away
a bit and I kept on after him, but by continually diving he kept just
out of my reach. This started at 10,000 feet down, and I finally found
myself at 2,000 feet, and well in the enemy territory. Then, at last,
I suspected a trap, and looked about to see what was likely to happen.
Sure enough, from above enemy machines were coming down after me, so I
turned toward my own lines. There in front of me were twelve more of
the Huns. This left nothing to do but turn back and fly farther into
enemy territory. This I did, losing height so as to increase my speed.
Along I went, with the whole swarm behind. It was lucky for me that my
machine was so much faster than theirs. I had to zigzag in my course
until I was a least 400 yards in the lead of their first machine, then
I flew straight. Dusk was coming on, and I was late and worried as to
what to do.
However, there was no advantage in giving in, so I went on as fast as I
could tear. I was terrified that I would meet another patrol, but after
I had gone about twenty miles straight east, I realized the chance
for that was very slight, and this comforted me a great deal. But I
was still worried as to how I was to get home, as I knew they would
wait higher up for me if I climbed. As dusk settled down, I managed
to shake off the pack and get completely out of their sight. Then I
climbed steadily and turned back toward our own lines. It was light
in the upper sky, but quite dark near the ground, and I was at least
thirty miles over the German lines. I was never so mad in my life, the
annoying part being that such a simple little trick had fooled me into
getting into such a nasty position. I had to fly by compass in the
approximate direction of home, and just as I reached the lines sighted
a lighthouse which I knew, flashing in the dusk. I was happy then and
able to land in the last five minutes of light. If I had been just that
much later, it would have meant a bad crash landing, for I would have
had no idea as to the exact spot where the aerodrome was; but luck was
with me still, and I came down without even straining a wire of my
machine.
I was disgusted with myself, as it was a bad show, taken all around,
and so mad that I would not hand in a report to tell the shameful tale
on me.
The day that I learned I was likely to return to England I went out
in the evening, and in a very short space of time crammed in a lot
of excitement. Flying around beneath the clouds, I had been unable
for a time to find anything to fight. There was a complete layer of
clouds all over the sky, and this made flying in enemy territory very
difficult. The dark sky was such a good background the anti-aircraft
guns could pick you out with great accuracy. I forgot about such
troubles quickly when I saw several of the enemy some five miles on
their side of the lines. Wanting to surprise them, I climbed up to the
clouds and then through them. At first I went into what seemed a very
sullen cloud, with dark grey and heavy mist all about me, the view
being limited to a space of 10 feet. As I climbed higher up, the colour
grew lighter and lighter until at last above me was nothing but blue
sky and sunshine. The top of the clouds was as flat as a table. It
looked as if one could land on it and sit there all day.
I kept flying along, carefully watching my compass to get the correct
direction, also gazing at the beautiful cloud-pictures around me,
when suddenly, just above, I heard the old wicked rattle of a pair of
machine guns. Pulling up, I looked about and saw coming down straight
on me from in front, three enemy scouts. The leader, to my great joy,
I recognized as the man who had trapped me so badly in the fight just
told of. He was well ahead of the other two, who were trailing behind
him, and I knew, if I could only shoot well, I would have a chance to
get him without being worried by the others, until they could reach
the fight. On we came, head on, both firing as fast as we could. I saw
his smoking bullets going streaking by about 4 feet above my head, and
what annoyed me a bit was the fact that they were passing that spot in
a well-concentrated group, showing that he had his shooting well in
hand and was quite cool. I have never fired with more care in my life.
I took sight on the engine of his machine, knowing, if I hit it, some
of the bullets would slide along its edge and get the pilot, who was
just behind. On we came toward each other, at tremendous speed. I could
see my bullets hitting his machine, and at the same instant his bullets
scattered badly, so it was obvious he had become nervous and was not
shooting as well as before. Suddenly he swerved, and tried to pass
slightly to my left. I kept going straight at him, firing both guns.
My bullets were all around the pilot’s seat by this time and seemed to
be hitting him. The next machine had come in now, firing at me, and
too near for me to turn after the first one, so I turned toward the
second Hun. My third opponent did not like the look of the fight, and
kept well off to one side, diving away to escape a few seconds later.
I looked over my shoulder to see what was happening to the first man,
and was overjoyed to see his machine, a mass of flames and smoke, just
commencing to fall. The second man I manœuvred with, doing almost two
complete turns before being able to get in the shot I wanted. Then
there was no trouble at all. With the first round he also burst into
flames, and fell, following the other through the clouds. I looked
for the third man, who had just dived away, anxious to wipe out the
whole crowd. I dived after him. Down through the clouds we plunged,
and, emerging, I saw he was well out of my reach, so I turned to watch
my two victims. They were both falling within a thousand feet of each
other, two flaming masses, crashing in death to the earth.
In a few days I was to go on another leave to England, so I put in
every moment that I could in the air, trying to increase the number of
machines to my credit. In this way, one evening, I came upon three,
and managed to surprise them in the old way that I had done so often
when I was flying a Nieuport. I dived on the rear and highest one, but
found I did not have the patience to crawl up to my usual range. Two
guns hardly made it necessary as before, so I opened fire at a little
over 100 yards. As in the old days, there was no second stage to it at
all--down he went completely out of control; and I stayed above, the
other two having escaped, and watched him falling 8,000 feet.
This was my forty-fifth victory, and the next day I had my forty-sixth
and forty-seventh, in two fights shortly following one another.
It was the evening before I was to leave for England, and, to my great
disgust, I had been unable to catch sight of a single German. So I flew
north to watch a Canadian attack at Lens. There was a great battle
going on, and for fifteen minutes I watched it raging. Then, chancing
to look up above me, I saw a two-seater of the enemy coming toward our
lines. It really seemed to be just a godsend, so I went straight at him
almost head on--that is, coming up slightly from below, but in front
of him. I fired at him as I came, and as no result appeared, when I
was 100 yards away, I dived and came up, pointing my nose straight up
into the sky, as he flew across over me. Then I fired again. Suddenly
the planes on one side of the Hun appeared to break and fall back, then
to sweep away entirely, and the machine fell in fragments. It was not
a nice sight. I had evidently hit the machine in a lucky place, which
had caused it to break, but in all probability the occupants were still
alive. However, it was not for me to pity them at that stage of the
game, and I could not put them out of their misery, so I remained above
and watched them fall.
Two scouts had appeared just before I attacked this two-seater, but
when I went toward them they had flown away. A minute later I saw
them flying toward me. They did not want to fight, though, and turned
away, heading in an easterly direction. The range was too far for me
to open fire, so I chased them a bit, a distance of about two miles.
They managed to keep 300 yards away, and as the wind was blowing
me into Germany at the rate of sixty miles an hour, besides my own
speed, I decided it was not worth while. Before leaving off the chase
I thought I might as well send a few shots after them, as it might
be my last chance to fight in France. I took very careful aim on the
rear machine and opened fire. The Hun suddenly went into a spinning
nose-dive and fell toward earth. I did not think for a moment I had
hit him at that range, but watched to see just what game the German was
playing. Down he went all the way from 13,000 feet to the ground, and
crashed--a complete wreck. A lucky bullet must have hit the pilot and
killed him instantly. It was indeed my last fight in France, and the
next day I went to England on leave, and also to attend an investiture
at Buckingham Palace, at which I was to receive the whole three of my
decorations.