1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) (27 page)

“Righto sir.”

The others appeared to be obeying orders and they both dropped like stones.  I then saw their gunners standing with their rear Lewis ready to repel the enemy. They turned west. It looked like the Germans were ignoring me and were heading for Freddie who was bravely attacking them head on. His gunner must have been lucky for he managed to hit one of the Germans which began to smoke.  His luck ran out when the next Albatros poured his bullets into the front cockpit. I saw Freddie grab his arm and then he too dived towards the woods. He had no rear gunner and he would die soon unless we could do something.

I aimed my bus at the first Albatros and I fired a burst.  The range was too far but I wanted to attract their attention. It worked.  As I headed north they swung around to fly in a line abreast at me. Hutton let rip at the one on the right and emptied one Lewis at the one ahead.  I fired the second as quickly as I could. Their sudden turn had thrown their aim and we avoided serious damage. As they zoomed past us I shouted, “Get on the rear Lewis!” I saw that Freddie was as low as he could go and was heading west.  I prayed that he would make it. By heading north I was taking the Albatrosses away from my flight.

I began to straighten up when suddenly it felt as though someone had hit the aeroplane with a bomb.  The controls felt strange.  I tried to turn and could not. Hutton shook his head as he said, “Rudders gone sir. And the ailerons too.  Controls are shot to hell and back. We have no controls left, sir.”

We were doomed to fly in a straight line. I could not turn. I gave the engine all the power I could.  “We’ll draw them away from the others eh?”

“That’s the spirit sir, Nil Desperandum!” I saw him arm the Lewis.  “Here they come, sir. For what we are about to receive…”

I actually felt the bullets as they struck the engine. They seemed to thud into my back. There was nothing I could do.  I had to fly straight as I had no control over the aeroplane. I noticed that Lumpy was not firing.  I knew he was not conserving ammunition; I had to trust his judgement.

I watched him as he mouthed, “Come on you bugger, a bit closer.  Gotcha!” He gave a long burst on the Lewis and punched the air. “I hit his engine! There are just two left.”

The next Albatros closed with us and I both heard and felt the bullets as they hit the Rolls Royce engine.  Miraculously we kept flying with no loss of power but I knew that could not continue. The fuel gauge continued to fall.  I had long ago given up any hope of returning to the airfield.  We would run out of fuel and fall to earth. Hutton fired again. The Albatros suddenly zoomed overhead.  He did not make the mistake of flying in front of my Lewis guns. I noticed that they were a small and neat aeroplane.  It was a harder target.

The last one powered in and again hit the engine. As Lumpy emptied his magazine he shouted, “We have damage, sir! There is smoke coming from the engine. It looks bad sir.”

I nodded. I could feel the power fading. I pushed forward on the yoke hoping that there would be some horizontal movement left. Miraculously the nose dipped a little. The Albatros which had just fired upon us zoomed overhead. As Hutton changed the magazine he shook his head and gave me a sad look. “Next time they come in sir, that will be it.”

“I know. Still, we fight to the end eh?”

“Of course, sir.”

We were now losing altitude rapidly. There was no point in looking for a safe place to land; we would have no choice in the matter.  We would land when the engine gave out or the fuel ran out. I saw a wood directly ahead.  We were going to hit it. All the enemy needed to do was wait.

“Sir!” Sergeant Hutton actually looked happy.  “They are heading away from us!”

I could not believe it.  They must either be short on fuel or ammunition.  Either way we had been given a reprieve. “Better sit down quickly Lumpy and brace yourself.  There are woods ahead.”

He did not reply but turned and sat as quickly as he could.  He had barely braced himself when there was the sudden silence of an engine stopping.  We had no power. I was so grateful to the designers of the Gunbus.  We had complained about the huge wing span but it saved us now.  We glided gently down to earth.  I had been worried we would nose dive but we kept the same angle of approach.  Ahead of us I could see the trees. If we hit one head on then the effect would be the same as hitting the ground.  It was maddening to have no control over the bus. My hands were still gripping the yoke but that was out of habit. The closer we came to the woods and the ground a little hope appeared.  There were gaps between the trees. So long as we did not hit a tree square on there was a faint chance of survival.

I saw that Hutton had thrown his Lewis over the side and was braced against the cockpit frame. He would be the first to die if we struck a tree.  I saw a gap and the Gunbus appeared to be heading for it. We were barely twenty feet from the ground.  Would the undercarriage hit before we did?  If it did so there was a danger we could flip over.  I felt the undercarriage strike something but it must have been a bush for we did not flip. It showed me how close we were to the ground. I saw that the fuselage would just miss the trees; not so the wings.

As we struck there was a horrible tearing and crunching sound as the two wings on each side were ripped from the body and the undercarriage was removed.  As the rudder had been damaged and the rear of the aeroplane was just air we were, effectively a cockpit and an engine slithering and sliding through the trees. The friction of the ground slowed us up.

I heard Hutton shout, “Bloody Norah!” and saw a huge tree looming up ahead of us. We were going to hit it. The weight of the engine and friction saved us. The front of the cockpit crumpled as we banged into the tree but when Hutton leapt out like a startled rabbit I knew he was uninjured. I climbed out and looked back. We were fifty feet inside the woods but, more importantly, we were alive. We had survived.

“Are you alright Sergeant?”

He patted himself down.  “I think so.”

“Right we have no time to lose. Get your Lee Enfield and the Very Pistol.” As he did so I jammed the maps into my greatcoat pocket.  I took out my penknife and prised the compass from its mount. I patted my pockets.  I had my Luger and my service revolver.  There was nothing else I needed. I threw my goggles into the cockpit.  I would not need them again and the helmet I jammed into my pocket.

“Right, let’s get some distance from here.” When we were thirty feet away I said, “All right Sergeant, burn her!”

He fired the pistol at the fuel which had been leaking from the fuel tank. The FE 2 caught fire and then I saw the flames racing back along our track. They reached the wings and they, too, began to burn.  It would destroy the aeroplane but it would be a beacon for the Germans who would, no doubt, come seeking us.

Hutton stuck the pistol in his belt.  “Right, sir,” he said cheerily.  “Which way?”

I pointed north. “Let’s get out of the woods first and then we can work out a route home.”

I led the way and I held my Luger before me.  Hutton had his Lee Enfield.  We would not be taken without a fight. I suspect that I was happier than Sergeant Hutton.  I was a country boy and he was a city boy. I had played Zulus and Redcoats in woods like this on the estate.  I knew how to read a trail and how to hide one.  As soon as I saw the path, which headed north, I took it. It would be quicker and it would be safer.  We would leave less sign. We had travelled no more than a mile when I heard the sound of an aeroplane engine. I stopped and held up my hand. We both ducked beneath the canopy of leaves.

I could not see it but, from the sound and its speed, it sounded like an old Aviatik. They would be spotting for infantry. As soon as the sound receded I led us off again.  We had to put as much distance between us and the crash site as possible.  It would take them some time to discover that there were no bodies.  Then they would begin the hue and cry.

From the air the woods had not appeared to be extensive but a mile later and we had still to reach the end of them.  I looked at my watch, which had survived the crash.  It was two o’clock in the afternoon.  We had six hours of daylight remaining.  We needed to use that time to get as far north as we could and then march a little more under cover of darkness and find somewhere to hide out.  Had they not been seeking us then the woods would have been perfect.

I smelled horses. I heard the jangle of bridles and tack.  There was cavalry ahead. I looked around and saw a blackthorn bush. I pushed Hutton behind it and then arranged the grass to disguise our tracks. I put my finger to my lips and pushed Hutton to the ground. I hoped we would remain unseen.

I heard them talking as they rode up.  They were German. The sound of their hooves came closer and closer and I pressed us deeper into the ground. I counted the horses as they passed.  There were ten of them.  I could hear them talking in German as they passed. As soon as they had disappeared from view I grabbed Lumpy. “Right, we have to move as quickly as we can before they come back. We run!”

I might not have been as fit as when I was in the cavalry but I was much fitter than Sergeant Hutton who huffed and puffed behind me. Luckily it was not as warm as it had been the previous week but even so, in our greatcoats we were both sweating.  We did not have far to run. I almost fell out of the woods. There was a small road which ran alongside the wood.  I pushed Lumpy back under the eaves and I lay down to gather my bearings.

I could see, to the left, horse droppings which showed the direction of the cavalry patrol’s base.  That made sense for the front was just ten miles or so in that direction.  The road went to the right and I could see a village of some description.  The problem was that we would stand out like sore thumbs in our brown uniforms during the hours of daylight. I came to a decision; we would move in the woods but move towards the village.  I wanted to see its size and if there was any possibility of moving through it unseen.

I signalled Lumpy and he picked up his rifle and followed me. The edge of the woods was covered in nettles and weeds.  No one walked here. I saw that the wood ended a hundred yards away from where we were.  We would have to find shelter there. There were spindly rowan trees as well as coppiced oaks; neither would be any use for shelter.  There was, however, a small stand of hawthorn bushes intermingled with elderberry trees.  They would be perfect.  We hid within their cover. I was desperate to look at the map but I did not want to risk the white of the map being seen by the cavalry.  We would wait until they returned.

We lay flat on our stomachs.  Hutton reached into his pocket and pulled out two sandwiches.  He offered one to me.  The officer in me was going to decline but the rumble inside me made me grab it and nod my thanks. Bully beef had never tasted as good. Hutton finished his in record time and pulled out another.  He mimed splitting it but I shook my head.  I was still eating and his frame needed it more than I did.

He looked happier when he had finished and he pulled out his Dewar flask. It had a detachable mug at the top and he poured one and offered it me.  I was still eating and I pointed to him. He drank it down as swiftly as he had eaten his sandwich and a look of contentment filled his face.  I finished my sandwich and I too felt better able to function.  He poured some tea in the cup and handed it to me.  It was tea far sweeter than I would have chosen but it did the job. He had just returned it to his pocket when I smelled and then heard the horses as they came down the trail.

I did not need to tell Lumpy to be still. The patrol waited just inside the woods.  Someone who looked like an NCO barked out orders and two men saluted and then dismounted. The rest of the patrol headed down the road. They were leaving guards to watch for us.  It had been too much to hope that they would assume we were dead. We would need to wait until dark. I mimed for Hutton to get some sleep. I was forceful and he acquiesced.  He was soon asleep. The map would have to wait. 

As I watched the two Germans lit a small fire and appeared to be cooking some particularly aromatic sausages. The smell made my stomach ache for hot food. I began to plan our route home, in my head. There was no point in trying to cross the front line; we had seen it from the air.  At best we would become prisoners and at worst we would die. The alternatives were to find an airfield, steal a German two seater and fly home. The other was to hike, what I thought to be, almost a hundred miles to the end of the trench system and try to get around the lines and back to the British positions. Neither prospect promised much chance of success.  The only thing we had going for us was the fact that we would be travelling through French and Flemish people both of whom were, in theory, our allies. We just had to avoid Germans.

As night fell the Germans showed no sign of moving.  I heard the sound of horses clip clopping up the road.  They were changing the guards.  This would be our best chance to escape.  I woke Hutton and we slowly rose. We were well over a hundred yards from where they were.  I could hear them talking.  I knew that the horses would muffle the any sound we might make. We slipped out of the woods and crossed the road.  There was an alley leading up the back of some small rural cottages.  We slipped along it.  I had watched the houses as well as the Germans and knew that this lane went roughly north. It mattered not.  I just wanted to pass through the village.

There were small houses on both sides of the alley and they had high walls. We were half way along when a dog barked.  Hutton froze and I pushed him. I made a meowing sound.  I pushed Hutton further down the lane.  The dog barked again and then I saw a light as a back door was opened behind us and a French voice told the dog to shut up.