sides of Ostend harbour; on the gun positions at Middelkerke; on
transport waggons on the Ostend-Ghistelles road; on the mole at
Zeebrugge to widen the breach damaged in former attacks; on the locks at
Zeebrugge; on barges outside Blankenberghe, and on trawlers outside
Zeebrugge.
Eight French aeroplanes assisted the naval machines by making a vigorous
attack on the Ghistelles aerodrome, thus effectively preventing the
German aircraft from cutting off our machines.
It is reported that good results were obtained.
Instructions are always issued to confine the attacks to points of
military importance, and every effort is made by the flying officers to
avoid dropping bombs on any residential portions of the towns."
AIR RAID, 16TH FEBRUARY, 1915.--Harold Rosher sent no written account of
this raid, as he returned to Dover immediately after taking part in it.
Describing his experiences in the raid, he stated that his instructions
were to drop his bombs on a certain place behind Ostend. On leaving
Dunkirk he flew up the coast. When he got past Nieuport, he came under
heavy fire, and headed out to sea. Off Ostend the firing was terrific,
and seeing ahead a big bank of clouds he continued past Ostend until he
got above them. Thus concealed he turned and came inland, and was able
to reach his objective unobserved. The explosion of his bombs was the
first intimation the enemy had of his presence. Anti-aircraft batteries
immediately opened fire on him, but by that time he was making off, and
flying some miles out to sea, he came back down the coast in safety to
Dunkirk. One can imagine the strained anxiety with which those who come
back from raids such as this, await the arrival of overdue comrades. On
this occasion three of them, including Harold's special chum, Flight-Lt.
Gordon Riggall, never returned.
XIII.
_To his Father._
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
24th February, 1915.
DEAR DAD,
I arrived here safely in excellent time after quite a comfy journey. Mr.
and Mrs. Riggall left yesterday, but during the course of the afternoon
I received a very nice letter from him ... [Their son, Lieut. Riggall,
was "missing"].
If you can possibly manage it, come down to-morrow (Thursday) night. In
case I am unable to meet you at the station, come straight on to the
Burlington. I will reserve you a room. The Dunkirk boat was missed twice
by torpedoes yesterday. She is now running very irregularly. I cannot be
certain as to my movements, but will put you off by wire if necessary.
On arrival here I found all my letters had been forwarded to the other
side, also my Gieve lifebelt....
I think I just got away from home before you all quite spoilt me. It's
awfully bad for one, you know, and mustn't occur again or I shall be
getting quite beyond myself. I thoroughly enjoyed every moment of my
leave (except the being "shown off" part, which I endured with as good a
grace as possible), but I don't want any one to run away with the idea
that I have done anything extraordinary. One has only to go across the
other side to realize that everybody out there is doing his best. Army
pilots are flying day after day for hours on end, under fire, and trench
life must be no less trying. After all, when one comes to think of it,
it was what I joined the Air Service for, and probably when all is said
and done, the everyday routine will prove a much tougher job than these
occasional stunts.
Well, I've gassed long enough, so goodbye and very best love to all at
home (mind you come down to-morrow night unless I wire you otherwise).
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
P.S.--The watch is keeping excellent time and the pipe is settling down
into first-rate smoking order.
[6] Nose-diving, making a vertical descent.
Side-slipping may occur to a machine that has lost her flying speed, and
always occurs if the bank is too great or too little when turning.
Stalling, loss of flying speed.
[7] The Tennis Champion, killed in action 12th May, 1915.
[8] Georges Carpentier, the boxer, French airman, injured in an
aeroplane accident, 12th August, 1915.
IV
WITH THE B.E.F.
XIV.
_To his Mother._
No. 1 Naval Aeroplane Squadron, B.E.F.
1st March, 1915.
DEAREST MUM,
I only had time to scrawl off a few lines to you this morning, as the
mail was just going out. We have been pretty busy the last day or so
getting things shipshape. I am at last settled in a quite nice house
with seven others. Maude and I are the two senior inmates, so are
running the establishment. Unfortunately, we have no bath, but five
minutes' walk from here there are some public baths, where we can get a
hot tub any time between 8 a.m. and 7 p.m.
We are acting as our own censors here, and also have to censor all the
men's letters--some of them are most amusing. There is nothing exciting
at all happening. Weather has been pretty bad and shows signs of getting
worse.
Have just run out of ink, am now writing with coffee!
4th March, 1915.
We are settling down by degrees. Our house is really beginning to get
quite comfortable. Wilding has been staying here with us the last few
days.
6th March, 1915.
Had my first letter from you this morning, dated the 3rd, for which many
thanks. It's the first news of any sort from home since we have been out
here. Weather still continues very bad and, personally, I shouldn't mind
a little more of it still.
Did I tell you that my Gieve lifebelt had turned up? You can't imagine
how firmly attached I am to it. I can't bear parting with it at night.
The flask I have filled up to the stopper with rum--brandy and whisky
are unprocurable.
We don't get much in the way of light literature, so any weekly papers,
such as _Sketches_, _Tatlers_, _Punch_, are looked on as great luxuries.
By the way, is the watch keeping good time? I had the chance of being
inoculated the other day, but didn't think it worth while. I may be done
later, possibly.
Love to all at home.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
P.S.--There is a rumour that we get a week's leave after being out here
three months.
XV.
_To his Mother._
No. 1 Aeroplane Squadron, B.E.F.
7th March 1915.
DEAREST MUM,
Have just got your letter of the 4th inst. It arrived late in the day,
after Dad's. I am afraid this has missed the mail; so won't go off for a
couple of days. I have just come off duty; we get three days at it on
end. There's no baccy to be procured out here, so could you send me on a
½ lb. tin of Friars' Mixture (medium)?
Am just back from a little bomb-dropping stunt over Ostend, but keep it
quiet until it appears in the papers, or if it doesn't, allow say a
week. It was bitterly cold and took about 1½ hours. I pushed the old bus
up to 8,000 ft., right above a terrific layer of clouds. It was a most
wonderful sight. I only got occasional glimpses of the earth and sea,
and was not fired at at all--in fact, I don't think I was ever even seen.
It's quite impossible for me to let you know my whereabouts in France,
but I seem to have a vague recollection of telling you where I was going
before I left. If you can remember, all well and good. If not, put two
and two together, and the answer is ----?
Heaps of love to all, and Cheer O! for my week's leave in 3 months' time.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
NOTE.
_The following is the Admiralty's official account of the raid described
in the foregoing letter_:--
"Wing Commander Longmore reports that an air attack on Ostend was
carried out yesterday afternoon (7th March) by six aeroplanes of the
Naval Wing. Of these two had to return owing to petrol freezing.
The remainder reached Ostend and dropped eleven bombs on the submarine
repair base and four bombs on the Kursaal, the headquarters of the
military.
All machines and pilots returned.
It is probable that considerable damage was done. No submarines were
seen in the basin.
The attack was carried out in a fresh N.N.W. wind."
XVI.
_To his Father._
No. 1 Aeroplane Squadron, B.E.F.
8th March, 1915.
DEAR DAD,
I have struck rather an unfortunate day to-day. To begin with, this
morning I was taxying my machine to the far end of the aerodrome, to
start off into the wind, when I got into some very soft ground--result,
before I knew where I was, I found the machine standing up on its nose.
Fortunately, the only damage was a broken propeller, which didn't
matter, as it was already chipped and was going to be replaced. In the
afternoon I had quite a good trip, just over an hour, and quite long
enough, as it has been pretty nearly freezing all day long. I made a
good landing, but a second or so after I actually touched the ground, a
tyre burst, and I all but turned a complete somersault. For several
seconds I was quite vertical, and then the machine fell back. One or two
things were bent, but on the whole remarkably little damage. The skid
broke and leading edge of one wing tip. A wheel also buckled up, but I
should be going strong again by tomorrow.
12th March, 1915.
Still going strong and things on the whole keeping fairly quiet. There
has been another little bomb-dropping episode, in which I didn't take
part, however, as my machine was undergoing some repairs. Please send on
my fur coat at once, as my leather one has given out suddenly--am
sending it back to Gieve's immediately on receipt of other.
14th March, 1915.
Many thanks for letter, _Flight_, and the _Aeroplane_, received
yesterday. The days are lengthening out tremendously now, and we manage
to get in quite a good walk after tea along the front. There is an
excellent promenade, crowded with the town folk, and most gorgeous sands
with heaps of very pretty shells. The sands make a most perfect landing
ground and have already come in very useful in emergency.
I flew a Vickers gun bus [gun-carrying biplane] the other day (you saw
one at Dover, I think). I didn't like it much. For one thing it was very
badly balanced, and secondly, I don't like a monosoupape [engine] (100
h.p. Gnome). My own machine I can get so perfectly balanced that I can
let go the controls for minutes on end. Had a delightful trip to-day
to.... It's most interesting watching the shells burst. Somebody's
beginning to push pretty hard in places, I can tell you. We hear the
guns hammering away day and night now.
Our aerodrome here is a beastly small one. I have had several narrow
shaves already of running into things, and feel sure that before long I
shall "crash" something. I think that I shall shortly have an
opportunity of flying a monoplane. Am looking forward to it "some."
Love to all.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
XVII.
_To his Mother._
No. 1 Naval Aeroplane Squadron, B.E.F.
15th March, 1915.
DEAREST MUM,
Have had a great time to-day. First thing in the morning the C.O. gave
Maude and myself the whole day off. We promptly secured a car, passports
and pass-words, had an early lunch, and then sallied forth full of hope
to see the WAR. Our password held good until we got into Belgium, and
then proved "dud." The sentry, however, very kindly supplied us with
another. We were rather unfortunate in getting a tyre punctured, but
half a dozen Belgian soldiers rushed up and asked us if we wanted any
help, and how many men. They carefully explained they would do anything
to help the English. Eventually they did everything for us. The place we
visited was the same as I went to when over here before. This afternoon
it was being rather heavily bombarded. We left our car outside the town,
shells bursting within 50 yards of it. We then sallied forth on foot
into the town--terrific bangs from the French guns firing near us, and
shells fairly whistling overhead. You can tell when they are coming near
you by the sound they make. The French soldiers are quite wily, and
scuttle away like rabbits, when they hear one coming near. In the town
several shells burst very near us, and fragments of stone and dust fell
freely around us--rather too warm for my liking. There was quite a
difference since I was last there, several more buildings being reduced
to ruins. One shell hole would have concealed 40 or 50 men easily. We
only stayed half an hour, and saw quite enough.
Two Frenchmen were killed here this evening. They stalled and
side-slipped from about 80 feet in a Voisin and were killed instantly.
From what I heard they were smashed to bits. It's all luck. B---- fell
400 feet and only sprained his ankle, and these two fellows broke every
bone in their bodies. The machine caught fire on the ground and was
burnt to bits. I saw the remains this evening. Two French machines and
four pilots are missing from a little bomb-dropping stunt of theirs
yesterday. You never hear of these things at home, but flying casualties
are heavier than one is led to believe. A short time back the R.F.C.
[Royal Flying Corps] lost five in a week!
Have just discovered that the Duchess of Sutherland and Lady Rosemary
are running a hospital out here.
French sanitary arrangements are really extraordinary. I don't believe
there is a drain in the place. Such things are unknown in small French
towns.
Am sending you a cheque for £20, as it is an awful nuisance getting cash
here. I want you to send me on £5 at once in notes and the rest as I
ask, as I don't want a lot of money about me. Also I expect I owe you
something for flea bag, etc., and I am sure to be wanting other things
later. Am sending you on the pins and brooches.
Very best love.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
XVIII.
_To his Mother._
No. 1 Naval Aeroplane Squadron, B.E.F.
16th March, 1915.
DEAREST MUM,
Whatever induced you to do it? The tobacco, etc., arrived, but the
toffee had all melted, and a more sticky mess you can't conceive. It was
as much as I could do to read your letter. I managed to rescue some of
the toffee and the general opinion on same is that it is very good. Two
letters from Dad and the sleeping bag arrived by same mail, for which
many thanks.
I had to make a hurried landing on the sands to-day owing to an exhaust
cam [valve operating mechanism] breaking. Flew my machine back in the
evening. Have just started another three days' duty.
Love to all.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
XIX.
_To his Father._
No. 1 Naval Aeroplane Squadron, B.E.F.
21st March, 1915.
DEAR DAD,
Very little news of interest to tell you. I was sent out suddenly
yesterday afternoon late to look for a Zepp, but saw nothing. It was
dusk by the time I got back, and an inlet valve went just as I was
coming in. I couldn't reach our aerodrome, but just managed to scrape
into the Belgian one alongside. The French brought down a Taube to-day
and one yesterday (anti-aircraft guns). They are getting nearly as hot
as the Germans. I can tell you that some of us are beginning to think
our chances of seeing England again are somewhat remote.
To-day has been the most perfect day we have had out here so far. This
afternoon I shot a wild duck with a Webley-Scott pistol at 50 yards. It
was the 6th shot, but the others were all very close--not bad shooting,
eh?
The _Punches_ turned up alright, but much later than the other
papers--all much appreciated. Best love.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
XX.
_To his Mother._
No. 1 Squadron, R.N.A.S., B.E.F.
23rd March, 1915.
DEAREST MUM,
Another fine day, and let's hope the weather will last. The town this
afternoon is crowded with small girls all in white--long skirts and
veils--confirmation, I suppose.
Have spent a very busy day tuning up my bus, and am not over satisfied
with it now. To-morrow at the crack of dawn I am off on another stunt,
this time more hazardous than ever. When I start thinking of the
possibilities, or rather probabilities, I go hot and cold by turns; so
endeavour to switch off on to something else, but it keeps coming back
to the same old thing. Am not posting this until just before I start,
but all the same can tell you no details. By the time you get this, I
shall either have returned safely or be elsewhere. The papers will no
doubt give you more news than I can at present. Suffice it to say, that
my journey will be round about 200 miles and will last 4--5 hours. It is
even doubtful whether we shall have enough petrol to bring us back. It's
a first-rate stunt though, and I suppose a feather in my cap, being one
of the chosen few.
Very best love to all.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
XXI.
_To his Mother and Father._
No. 1 Squadron, R.N.A.S., B.E.F.
24th March, 1915.
DEAREST MUM AND DAD,
Another successful little jaunt. Five of us were chosen to go--Capt.
Courtney [Major Ivor T. Courtney, Squadron Comdr., R.N.], Meates (who
travelled up to town from Dover in the train with Dad), self, and two
subs named Andreae and Huskisson. Courtney and I got there and back,
Meates [B. C., Flt. Lieut., R.N.] came down in Holland with engine
trouble, and is interned.... Andreae [P. G. Andreae, Flt. Lieut., R.N.]
lost his way in the clouds and fog, and came back, and Huskisson [B. L.
Huskisson, Flt. Comdr., R.N.] did the same, only dropped his bombs on
Ostend on the way. Our mark, by the way, was the submarine base at
Hoboken, near Antwerp.
Yesterday morning we were to have gone, but the weather was not good
enough, and last night we slept at the aerodrome, so as to get off at
the "crack of dawn." This morning we got up about 3.30 a.m. (thank
goodness, the weather was warm), and breakfast followed. It's mighty
hard to get down eggs and bread and butter at that hour. We cut for the
order of starting, but decided to keep as near one another as possible.
I went off last but one, at 5.30 a.m., and streaked out straight across
the sea. We were pretty heavily loaded, and my bus wouldn't climb much.
I saw one machine ahead of me, but lost it almost immediately in the
clouds, which were very low (2,500 feet), and it was also very misty.
[Illustration:
_Photo: Russell, Southsea_
SQUADRON-COMMANDER IVOR T. COURTNEY, R.N. (MAJOR R.M.L.I.)
_Who led the raid on Hoboken, described in the accompanying
letter_]
Our course was right up the coast, past Zeebrugge, and then cut in
across the land. At the mouth of the Scheldt I got clear of some of the
clouds and saw Courtney behind and 2,000 feet above me, my machine then
being about 5,000 feet only. He rapidly overtook me (we were all on
Avros, but his was faster), and from then on I followed him over the
clouds. Unfortunately, over Antwerp there were no clouds. Courtney was
about five or six minutes in front of me, and I saw him volplane out of
sight. I had to go on some little way before I spotted the yards myself.
I next saw Courtney very low down, flying away to the coast with
shrapnel bursting around him. He came down to under 500 feet, and being
first there, dropped his bombs before he was fired on.
As the wind was dead against me, I decided to come round in a
semi-circle to cross the yards with the wind, so as to attain a greater
speed. I was only 5,500 feet up, and they opened fire on me with
shrapnel as soon as I got within range. It began getting a bit hot, so
before I got quite round I shut off my petrol, and came down with a
steep volplane until I was 2,500 feet, when I turned on my petrol again,
and continued my descent at a rate of well over a hundred miles an hour.
I passed over the yards at about 1,000 feet only, and loosed all my
bombs over the place. The whole way down I was under fire, two
anti-aircraft in the yard, guns from the forts on either side, rifle
fire, mitrailleuse or machine guns, and, most weird of all, great
bunches (15 to 20) of what looked like green rockets, but I think they
were flaming bullets. The excitement of the moment was terrific. I have
never travelled so fast before in my life. My chief impressions were the
great speed, the flaming bullets streaking by, the incessant rattle of
the machine gun and rifle fire, and one or two shells bursting close by,
knocking my machine all sideways, and pretty nearly deafening me.
On my return I found my machine was only hit twice--rather wonderful;
one bullet hole through the tail and a piece of shrapnel buried in the
main spar of one wing. I have now got it out.
I found myself across the yards, and felt a mild sort of surprise. My
eyes must have been sticking out of my head like a shrimp's! I know I
was gasping for breath and crouching down in the fuselage [body of the
machine]. I was, however, by no means clear, for shrapnel was still
bursting around me. I jammed the rudder first one way and then the
other. I banked first on to one wing tip, and then on to the other, now
slipping outwards, and now up and now down. I was literally hedged in by
forts (and only 1,000 feet up), and had to run the gauntlet before
getting away. I was under rifle fire right up to the frontier, and even
then the Dutch potted me.
My return journey was trying. Most of the time I had to fly at under 500
feet, as I ran into thick clouds and mist. I pottered gaily right over
Flushing, and within a few hundred yards of a Dutch cruiser and two
torpedo boats. I got back home about a quarter of an hour after
Courtney, having been very nearly four hours in the air, and having
covered, I suppose, getting on for 250 miles.
Have not yet heard what damage was done. The C.O. was awfully braced.
I had some breakfast when I got back, wrote out my report, had lunch,
and then a very, very hot bath. To-morrow I am going out with Courtney
to see the War, as we have been given the day off to do as we please.
My engine gave me several anxious moments. For some reason it cut right
out over the Scheldt, and I had actually given up all hope when it
picked up again. It was pretty risky work flying several miles out to
sea, only just in sight of land too, but our surprise (or I should say
Courtney's) of the Germans was certainly complete.
Must really stop now.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
NOTE.
_The following is the Admiralty's official account of the Antwerp
raid_:--
"The Secretary of the Admiralty yesterday afternoon [24th March] issued
the following communication from Wing Commander Longmore:--
I have to report that a successful air attack was carried out this
morning by five machines of the Dunkirk Squadron on the German
submarines being constructed at Hoboken near Antwerp.
Two of the pilots had to return owing to thick weather, but Squadron
Commander Ivor T. Courtney and Flight Lieutenant H. Rosher reached their
objective, and after planing down to 1000 feet dropped four bombs each
on the submarines. It is believed that considerable damage has been done
to both the works and to submarines. The works were observed to be on
fire. In all five submarines were observed on the slip.
Flight Lieutenant B. Crossley-Meates was obliged by engine trouble to
descend in Holland.
Owing to the mist the two pilots experienced considerable difficulty in
finding their way, and were subjected to a heavy gunfire while
delivering their attack."
_The French official communiqué gave precise details, thus_:--
"At Hoboken the Antwerp shipbuilding yard was set on fire and two
submarines were destroyed, while a third was damaged. Forty German
workmen were killed and sixty-two wounded."
XXII.
_To his Father._
No. 1 Squadron, R.N.A.S., B.E.F.
26th March, 1915.
DEAR DAD,
I had quite a good time yesterday with Courtney, although the weather
was so bad. We started out gaily through Bergues, a ripping little town,
then Cassel, a most delightful spot. It is perched up on a hill in the
middle of a plain and you get a grand view around. We visited some
R.F.C. people at St. Omer, had lunch there and then went out to Wipers
(Ypres). There was nothing doing there, but even though we had all sorts
of passes, we could not get near the firing line. The Cloth Hall and
Cathedral we thoroughly inspected though--most lovely places, utterly in
ruins. The remainder of the town is really very little touched--nothing
like Nieuport, where there is not a whole building anywhere. We got back
home about 6 p.m., having enjoyed ourselves immensely and feeling quite
tired out. My troubles weren't over though, as I found a little "chit"
awaiting me, asking me to dine with the Commander.
The First Lord wired his "congrats" to us through Longmore--some feather
in our caps, what! This morning I see all sorts of garbled accounts in
the newspapers. My photo in the ---- is awful. ---- ought to be shot.
Must close as the mail is just going out. Best love to all.
Ever your loving son,
HAROLD.
XXIII.
_To his Mother._
No. 1 Squadron, R.N.A.S., B.E.F.
31st March, 1915.
DEAREST MUM,
We can hear the guns when the wind is our way, and on a clear day we can
see shrapnel bursting in the air. What do you think of this story, the
latest from the trenches? It's not quite a drawing-room one!