Tag: RAF100

2 April 1918

Tuesday, April 2nd: There interviewed by a German ex-Flying Corps Officer, a lawyer of Leipzig, who carried out a cross examination, but got no very vital information out of me.  Gave me a cigar, and promised to have a message dropped the other side of the line for me; whether out of kindliness or to inspire confidence and so get more information I know not.  He was very thoughtful and courteous.  Gave me the choice of going to the camp or to the Hospital; chose the later, and he sent me there in a cart (Heard from Hanna afterwards that he arrived at the Camp at 6pm. the same evening).  Hospital had been a factory – very crude.  Put on a large room containing about 100 wounded, in all stages, our own and German about equally mixed.  Two other English officers there, one a fellow named Ahern, of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers, of Youghal, Co. Cork, who knew Abby Perry slightly.
       Getting wind up somewhat about people at home.  Wondering how soon I should be reported missing, and how soon afterwards definite news about my being a prisoner of war would go through.  Am afraid they must have had a least a fortnight of suspense at home.  Am longing to get a letter off.
       Treated awfully well by the French inhabitants of this part of the country, who frequently offered me bread, and called out expressions of sympathy from their doorsteps as I hobbled past.  Forgot to say that after taking off my boot at Le Cateau (the big black field boots) I couldn’t get it on again next morning, so I had to wear a sort of sandal, cut from an old boot and tied on with string; and I carried the boot in my hand.
       Met an ex-clerk of John Knights at the hospital whose name I forget.  He had lost his right arm and had hopes of getting back to England.  Gave him appropriate messages for JKs.

1 April 1918

Monday April 1st, very appropriately.  All Fool’s Day, discovered 2 Frenchmen, 3 Tommies, & a Sergeant Major in same hut.  About 12 got first food since we were captured.  Some stew (uneatable) and a piece of black bread and meat each: My thoughts at this time were uncontrollable and went back irresistibly
(i). To the tea which had waited in vain since 6pm
(ii) To the only half eaten box of chocolates I had left on my table
(ii) To the full whisky flask I usually carried – and had left behind
About 2pm set out to walk to Bernes.  After 200 yards I gave it up and sat down at side of road.  Got a lift into Mons, and so was separated from Hanna whom I did not see for weeks, and then only for an hour.  Had my foot inspected at a Field Dressing Station in Mons (got a field p.c. off from here), and, as it was about twice the natural size, I got a lift with a lorry of wounded to a casualty clearing station behind Bellenglise.  After two hours wait there, a slice of bread and jam, and an inspection, it was decided that I was not wounded, and must walk to a British Officers Clearing Camp at Le Cateau, in charge of two NCO.s.  The N.C.Os. however, proved more merciful, and caught a lorry for me into Ramiecourt, a village where we stopped the night.  Coffee, bread, jam then.  Next morning, thence by three different train journeys one standing on the engine, and two in a carriage, to LeCateau.

31 March 1918

Sunday March 31.  Tootsie’s birthday.  Easter Day.  Quiet morning.  Nothing doing.  Wrote home in the morning saying that I would have liked to have been with them at Early Communion.  So I would have though I was asleep in bed at that time.  Topping day.  Finished off gutter round tent (if we could only foresee, somebody else could have done that gutter).  Had a topping lunch followed by a few chocolates.  Just walking up to tea when word came through for two or three machines, Pybes, Grimes and Hanna, to go on usual job.  In addition we had to do a special low reconnaissance of a certain wood.  This was at 4.50.  Asked McPherson to have tea for us at 6.  Late getting off on account of dud Petot.  Appalling take off, probably for same reason.  Had my stomach in my mouth and my heart in my boots for several minutes.  Recovered as we approached [Amiens].  Machine still right wing low.  Did job – were just going back when I noticed that 

the sky was absolutely clear of machines.  Decided to fire off my last drum of ammunition.  Waved Hanna back.  Fired off drum when machine started spinning to left in a flat spin.  We fell rapidly and I had given up all hope when Hanna switched off and managed to pull her out and throw her on one wing as we crashed just behind a trench full of German infantry.  German officer ran up.  I talked to him in French – so that Hanna mistook troops for French troops, and calmly asked me for a match to set machine alight.  Concealed by a fold in the ground from front line, otherwise we should have been killed by M.G. bullets of our own side.  Treated very courteously by this company commander, who sent us under escort back to Batt. H.Q. about half a mile back.  Rather an exciting walk.  Shells dropping round all the time.  Lost flying helmet and gloves (Glad I didn’t buy a new pair on leave). 

Country fortunately  of quite a hilly nature.  Batt. Commander not too pleased at finding us alive and unwounded.  By this time I could scarcely walk.  Told to stand to attention (in English).  Sent by him to Brigade H.Qs. in a little house a mile or so back.  Brigadier (Iron Cross) an exceedingly courteous and gentlemanly officer, rather elderly; knew little English.  Talked to him in French.  Asked where aerodrome was, declined to say.  Sent by him to Divisional H.Qs.  Met by two staff officers there, who both talked fluent English.  One had been a wool merchant in Bradford.  Nearly fainted.  Was given coffee.  Wondered what they were thinking back at the Squadron.  Officers were very surprised to find English and German time the same.  Taken by wool merchant staff officer to Corps H.Q. in a staff car.  He wanted to know the chances of his partner, a married man of 38, not being called up.  Very cold ride punctuated

by moments of considerable excitement (we carried no headlights, and there were several shell holes in road).  Sent from Corps H.Q. to a neighbouring house, where we were left under escort to the sorrowful company of our own thoughts and a guttering candle.  Two hours later, about 1 A.M., put on a lorry full of wounded.  Got out at a place which we recognised instantly, not so far from the old drome.  Put into huts there for the night.  In the morning.

30 March 1918

Saturday March 30th.  Early flip. usual work.  Went up in new machine.  Very right wing heavy.  Badly hit by Archie.  Main spar mostly shot away.  Crawled home gently, and got back OK.  After tea went a-bathing with Fry and McGregor in the old place behind the Cathedral.  Got an antiquated taxi in.  Bought a large box of chocolates.  Caught a C.O.s car back.  Had dinner – a jolly good one (how one’s thoughts do harp on food nowadays) in the new Flight mess, a large cottage.  Took in two new packs of cards but yarned  all the evening.

28 March 1918

Thursday March 28th: usual work.  Afternoon came on to rain.  Went up on a job of work.  Engine overheated.  Ridiculed by Major.  Radiators proved to be half empty.  Went up again.  Very heavy rain.  Decided to abandon job and fly straight back to [Abbeville].  Filthy weather, filthy flip.  Found new aerodrome.  Norton shot down.  Tea at the old lady’s on the other side of the road (Who had recently lost her son in the French Army).  Unloaded kit in the rain.  Topping dinner at the Tête du Bœuf.  CO acts the schoolmaster out of school.

27 March 1918

Wednesday March 27th: usual work.  Flew with Hanna.  Much grieved to see enemy swarming round our late drome.  Did our best to rectify the matter.  Our engine gave trouble when we were two or three miles over enemy lines.  We turned.  I pointed out V—- aerodrome and Hanna nursed engine, and landed in a good field close by.  Hanna went off to ring up Squadron (by the way; and had a jolly good lunch with Corps).  Walker flew overhead, and, by pooping off lights I carried on an intelligent conversation with him.  Met a Camel merchant.  Tired of waiting for Hanna, I made friends with passing M.G. Transport officer to the tune of beaucoup bread butter and vin rouge.  Hanna returned.  Reproached him bitterly.  Presently Pybus (directed by Walker) rolled up with two A.M.s and a tender.  Engine hopelessly seized up.  Decided to dismantle.  Left A.M.s to carry on.  Met another Camel merchant.  Stuck up his pressure pipe with mud, matches and spit.  Great combination and it worked.  He landed at our drome with a message for the CO.  Went back to the tender: passed a Go pdr. battery in full.  blast (my nerves! too near the line for me).  Passed through A—- on way back.  Called in Charleys bar! Deserted!  Got back to Squadron.  Jolly good dinner.  Pybus reviled by CO.  Machine burnt.

26 March 1918

Tuesday March 26th Hanna on early job (deuced unfair I thought – but McPherson isn’t a lovable character).  I wouldn’t go, feeling too rocky.  Was about three hours overdue.  Wind up.  No sign of grub.  Went with Macgregor to a neighbouring village, where we discovered a villager who provided us with large omelette, mashed potatoes, bread, butter & vin blanc all ad lib.  Oh happy days!  Returned to find Hanna back.  His observer (new to the Squadron) had been wounded, and was then comfortably in hospital.  Looks like the hand of fate.  Third new observer to get a blighty.  Put up tents for ourselves all the afternoon.  Everyone went by lorry that evening and had a glorious feed at the ———- in A——–.  Sang all he way back in the lorry.

25 March 1918

Monday March 25th.  After morning job Hanna touched hangar with tail skid landing.  Jolly close.  Evening – flew to [Bertangles].  Hanna and I went in the [Bristol fighter].  Wandered round and eventually found the drome.  Just landing when we saw a ridge.  Opened throttle in hope of clearing.  Hit ridge going full speed.  Turned completely over.  Was caught and pinned down by gun mounting.  Hanna got out, and lifted tail when I crawled out.  Hanna badly shaken, me ditto.  Old cord breeches finished off.  Leg torn a bit.  Machine smashed.  Fuselage broken behind Hanna’s seat.  Nobody knew where we should be.  All slept in empty huts on floor.