Read Online 1917 Eagles Fall by Griff Hosker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Griff Hosker
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casualties than we do.”
It was Captain Marshall who gave him the sad but brutal truth. “It takes longer to train a pilot than a footslogger and all he needs is a rifle. The Gunbus takes some time to manufacture. The fact of the matter is we can’t afford to take so many casualties and to lose aeroplanes.” He waved a hand at the squadron. “There is one pilot here from 1914 and only four more from 1915.“ He let that sink in. “There is no long term life expectancy in the RFC so let us do what the major wants and not make it easy for Fritz eh?”
I knew the men were frustrated. It seemed cowardly somehow but until we had better aeroplanes then we would have to eat humble pie and travel mob handed.
Bates was delighted. “Oh this is much better, Captain Harsker. Look what happened when you only had two aeroplanes with you. You were shot down! No, I will sleep easier now.”
The Major led us the next day while Lieutenant Kay’s aeroplane was repaired. As I had seen German troops moving up towards Cambrai we patrolled that sector. We left early for there were reports of aeroplanes in the vicinity. As soon as we reached No-Man’s Land we saw the two reconnaissance aeroplanes. They were obviously photographing our lines. That was normally the prelude for either a raid or an offensive. As soon as we began to climb they decided that discretion was the better part of valour and headed east.
Archie took us high above the front lines. We had four cameras amongst the squadron and the gunners photographed the German lines which would be assaulted. None of it would be a surprise. When our next offensive came we would have to patrol well behind the enemy lines and I did not relish the prospect.
Six Halberstadts appeared and I wondered if they would take us on. Lumpy’s eyes picked out the squadron markings and he told me it was the same squadron we had knocked about a little. They were wary and when Archie took the squadron east, then they left. It was something of an anti climax when we headed west. I was philosophical. We had suffered no casualties and stopped the observers taking photographs.
I was lying in my bath when Bates burst in. I knew that something terrible had happened for it was not his usual style. His face was red and his eyes were wild.
“I am sorry to burst in, sir, but the captain just received a message. Lord Burscough and five of his pilots were shot down. He is dead!”
I was stunned. How could that be? Lord Burscough was the finest pilot I had ever known. I had been his gunner and he had taught me how to fly. He was like an imperious eagle and yet he was now dead. The DH 2 had been one of the few new aircraft which had shown promise. If his lordship had died flying one as well as half of his hand-picked squadron then what chance did the rest of us stand?
I was suddenly aware that John was weeping. He had enjoyed his time at the Big House. It had been his world and he been enchanted with both his lordship and Lady Mary. They had fitted his mental picture of a perfect pair of aristocrats. The death of Lord Burscough would shatter his world and make him even more fearful for me.
“If you want to take the night off…”
He stiffened, “Oh no, sir. His lordship did his duty and I shall do mine.”
As he dressed me I thought about the effect on mum and dad. They had known him since he had been a child it would be as bad as losing me or Bert. I hoped that they were strong enough to survive the shock.
That evening, after the loyal toast, Captain Marshall stood. There were just five of us left who had flown with Captain Burscough, as he had then been. “Gentleman can you raise your glasses in memory of a fine pilot, a courteous gentleman and one of the best officers to serve in this squadron: Lord Burscough.”
We downed our drinks in one and there was a sombre, almost funereal atmosphere. It contrasted with the heady days in summer, before I had
It was Captain Marshall who gave him the sad but brutal truth. “It takes longer to train a pilot than a footslogger and all he needs is a rifle. The Gunbus takes some time to manufacture. The fact of the matter is we can’t afford to take so many casualties and to lose aeroplanes.” He waved a hand at the squadron. “There is one pilot here from 1914 and only four more from 1915.“ He let that sink in. “There is no long term life expectancy in the RFC so let us do what the major wants and not make it easy for Fritz eh?”
I knew the men were frustrated. It seemed cowardly somehow but until we had better aeroplanes then we would have to eat humble pie and travel mob handed.
Bates was delighted. “Oh this is much better, Captain Harsker. Look what happened when you only had two aeroplanes with you. You were shot down! No, I will sleep easier now.”
The Major led us the next day while Lieutenant Kay’s aeroplane was repaired. As I had seen German troops moving up towards Cambrai we patrolled that sector. We left early for there were reports of aeroplanes in the vicinity. As soon as we reached No-Man’s Land we saw the two reconnaissance aeroplanes. They were obviously photographing our lines. That was normally the prelude for either a raid or an offensive. As soon as we began to climb they decided that discretion was the better part of valour and headed east.
Archie took us high above the front lines. We had four cameras amongst the squadron and the gunners photographed the German lines which would be assaulted. None of it would be a surprise. When our next offensive came we would have to patrol well behind the enemy lines and I did not relish the prospect.
Six Halberstadts appeared and I wondered if they would take us on. Lumpy’s eyes picked out the squadron markings and he told me it was the same squadron we had knocked about a little. They were wary and when Archie took the squadron east, then they left. It was something of an anti climax when we headed west. I was philosophical. We had suffered no casualties and stopped the observers taking photographs.
I was lying in my bath when Bates burst in. I knew that something terrible had happened for it was not his usual style. His face was red and his eyes were wild.
“I am sorry to burst in, sir, but the captain just received a message. Lord Burscough and five of his pilots were shot down. He is dead!”
I was stunned. How could that be? Lord Burscough was the finest pilot I had ever known. I had been his gunner and he had taught me how to fly. He was like an imperious eagle and yet he was now dead. The DH 2 had been one of the few new aircraft which had shown promise. If his lordship had died flying one as well as half of his hand-picked squadron then what chance did the rest of us stand?
I was suddenly aware that John was weeping. He had enjoyed his time at the Big House. It had been his world and he been enchanted with both his lordship and Lady Mary. They had fitted his mental picture of a perfect pair of aristocrats. The death of Lord Burscough would shatter his world and make him even more fearful for me.
“If you want to take the night off…”
He stiffened, “Oh no, sir. His lordship did his duty and I shall do mine.”
As he dressed me I thought about the effect on mum and dad. They had known him since he had been a child it would be as bad as losing me or Bert. I hoped that they were strong enough to survive the shock.
That evening, after the loyal toast, Captain Marshall stood. There were just five of us left who had flown with Captain Burscough, as he had then been. “Gentleman can you raise your glasses in memory of a fine pilot, a courteous gentleman and one of the best officers to serve in this squadron: Lord Burscough.”
We downed our drinks in one and there was a sombre, almost funereal atmosphere. It contrasted with the heady days in summer, before I had
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