Note.
The French official account of the raid described in the foregoing letter was as follows:—
"A remarkable series of air raids against German positions or works of military value are reported in yesterday's Paris communiqués. In two of them the air squadrons were larger than any previously reported since the beginning of the war.
In one 62 French airmen took part....
The other great raid was undertaken by airmen of the British, French, and Belgian armies, and the British and French navies, to the number of 60. Acting in concert, they attacked the Forest of Houthulst, in Belgium, north-east of Ypres. Several fires broke out. All the aeroplanes returned safely.... Previously the largest squadron of attacking aeroplanes was one of 48 machines—of which 40 were British—which attacked the Belgian coast on February 16th last."
XLII.
To his Father.
No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B.E.F.
26th August, 1915.
Dear Dad,
What do you think of the 40 warships bombarding Zeebrugge? We were all due out there, of course, some spotting, and fighters to protect the spotters. As luck would have it, the weather was dud—clouds at 1,500 feet—with the result that no one got there except a solitary fighter, and he was rewarded by a scrap with a German seaplane. I got just past Ostend, but gave it up as engine was running none too well.
By the way, Bigsworth [A. W. Bigsworth, D.S.O., Squadron Comdr., R.N.] this morning dropped a 60 lb. bomb bang on top of a German submarine and completely did it in—jolly good work.
29th August, 1915.
As things stand at present I understand I am not going out to the Dardanelles. I must say I am awfully disappointed, as I was always rather keen to go out there, but I may possibly have a better job. For all I know it may be to rejoin Babington.
Went out to Furnes yesterday afternoon to collect more of my gear. While out there, a German machine came over and dropped six bombs on us. One went right into our tent and three fell within forty yards of me. No one was hit. We all ran like stags.
2nd September, 1915.
Many thanks for your numerous letters, including two forwarded, and beaucoup de periodicals. With luck I shall be home in time for your birthday.
Many alterations are taking place here and we are being sadly split up. Andreae and I are very soon going to Dover to join a mythical "C" group. At present Andreae and I are its sole components—even a Squadron Commander is not yet appointed. I am to be 1st Lieut., good for me, but fear they may yet put in a Flight Commander. In all probability we shall be in England over two months. Shall know a heap more in a few days.
9th September, 1915.
Very little news except that we had the monitors bombarding Ostend the day before yesterday. It was a fine sight from the air. A Frenchman was badly hit in the leg going out there, but went on, dropped his bombs and got back. He is not expected to live. Another Frenchman broke his leg this morning in an accident. Four new subs have turned up here and I am to go home as soon as they can fly the fast machines—it should be within 10 days. I ought to have gone home by rights about two weeks ago. Am flying over when I eventually do come. The last two machines that went over both crashed at Folkestone—shall probably do the same.
Love to all.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
IX
ON HOME SERVICE ONCE MORE
XLIII.
To his Father.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
13th September, 1915.
Dear Dad,
Am back again in England at last and am expecting to get two weeks' leave in a day or so. I got here at midday yesterday, having flown over from Dunkirk on a Nieuport. Drove out to Margate yesterday afternoon with Spenser Grey. Shall probably go out again on the 1st December.
14th September, 1915.
Just a line to let you know my probable movements. Though I am due for two weeks' leave, it seems improbable that I shall get it just yet awhile, but shall not be returning to Dunkirk until December 1st, when I shall remain out there for two months.
I have just taken over the 1st Lieutenant's job on this station, and this is keeping me busy no end. I am the senior officer, bar the C.O., in fact 2nd in Command, and am responsible for everything going on at the station, i.e. all executive work, etc. It is, of course, all new to me, and I find myself at sea every now and again. It is, however, a great opportunity. You should see me take parades (divisions, we call them), swish!
Please send me on, as soon as possible, my new monkey jacket and new pair of trousers, also new hat. My present uniform is most disreputable, covered in oil, etc., and must be scrapped at the earliest opportunity.
29th September, 1915.
I knew I should forget it, your birthday I mean. I suddenly remembered it whilst shaving this morning. I have been carrying a two-year-old note book about with me too, to remind me, as it was marked in it—pas de good though, and it's such a long time ago now. Beaucoup de work, or I would have written sooner.
I have just heard a nasty rumour that I am returning to Dunkirk on October 15th. We are getting 40 subs down here in a few days. That means tons more work for me.
4th October, 1915.
I think I shall get my leave (10 days only) next week. Risk [Major C. E. Risk, Squadron Commander, R.N.] asked me if I would like to remain here as 1st Lieutenant, an awful question to decide. I think I shall let things stay as they are and take my flight out to Dunkirk on October 15th. It seems too much like giving in to stay here.
30th October, 1915.
You picked me out a ripping train! It took me four hours to get down here with a change at Faversham. When I arrived at the Priory Station I was told it would be half an hour before the train could proceed to the Harbour, so had to get out and walk. I got in here at ten past ten, and the last straw was that Betty had no sandwiches left.
Graham [C. W. Graham, D.S.O.,[13] Flt. Lieut., R.N.] nearly killed himself this afternoon. He got into a spinning nose dive on a Morane parasol, and by the Grace of God got out again at 500 feet. In all probability I shall get my leave after this next lot of pilots have gone out to Dunkirk, but that remains to be seen.
14th November, 1915.
Am postponing my leave until still later, as it is rather important for me to stay here at the moment. Good things so very rarely come off though. I shall be most bitterly disappointed, however, if another two months does not see me on Active Service again.
30th November, 1915.
Can you come down this week-end? I have great hopes that Husky and Baillie will be back from the other side.
Apparently they had quite a good bag a day or so ago, one Hun seaplane, one submarine, and a bomb bang in the middle of a T.B.D. [torpedo boat destroyer].
Risk is away most of this week, but should be back by Saturday. He flew a Maurice over from Dunkirk last week and made quite a landing on arrival.
15th December, 1915.
I so much enjoyed my too short week-end. I fear I shall not be able to get up to Town again until after Xmas. Had quite a nice journey down, making Stewart's [W. S. Stewart, Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] acquaintance on the way, likewise his wife's.
Risk said he thought I had been away months, and seemed quite relieved to see me back again. Graham and Ince [S. Ince, D.S.C., Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] have put up a first-rate performance. They were not shot down. Graham came down low to see the Huns in the water, and his engine never picked up again. The Hun machine caught fire, and must have had bombs on it, for it exploded on hitting the water. Both machines fell bang in the middle of the fleet, which was duly impressed. Graham, of course, turned a somersault, and both he and Ince were nearly drowned.
1st January, 1916.
Had a great evening last night. A crowd of us went to dinner with G—— to see the New Year in. We did it in style. To-morrow I am lunching with the Bax-Ironsides.[14]
I looped on a B.E. 2 C. in great form the other day. If I had not been very securely strapped in, I should have fallen clean out. As it was, the cushion in the passenger's seat fell out and vanished. One seems to be upside down for a frightfully long time. I did the trick out in the country at between three and four thousand feet. The first time I had barely enough speed, so had a second shot and got up to over 100 knots. I really thought the wings would fall off! We had two topping crashes yesterday, but neither of the pilots hurt.
Tons of love and a prosperous New Year.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
A BRISTOL SCOUT BIPLANE (OR "BULLET")
THE MORANE "PARASOL" MONOPLANE
Flown by Flight Sub-Lieut. Warneford, V.C., when he destroyed a Zeppelin
XLIV.
To his Grandmother.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
27th September, 1915.
Dear Granny,
Am so sorry to hear you have been having such a rotten time, but trust you are by now well on the road to recovery.
I have been having an awfully busy time lately. The King came down here to inspect us on Thursday, and shook hands with all the officers in the afternoon.
Am by degrees helping to get together another squadron to go out to Dunkirk. We are due across there half way through next month. I am not particularly anxious to go out again just yet, unless we can really get a move on.
I hope before I go to get a little leave. I am due for two weeks, so may see you in the near future.
Heaps of love.
Your loving grandson,
Harold.
XLV.
To his Father.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
3rd January, 1916.
Dear Dad,
I have got wind of something rather priceless ... for when the war is over, I will tell you a little about this scheme, only remember it's strictly private and confidential, so you must not mention it to any one.
In a nutshell it's this, a flight from —— to ——. It sounds rather impossible at first, but I think quite a number of people would have a shot if they could get some one to pay expenses. This is where I get a look in. The experience anyhow would be wonderful. One of the subs here has just put me up to it, and says he has everything arranged. That sounds rather rapid, but he has written for an appointment, so I shall be able to let you know later how things go. In the meanwhile lie doggo and do come down this week-end, if possible, so that we can talk things over.
Very best love.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
XLVI.
To his Mother.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
4th February, 1916.
Dearest Mum,
Just a short line to let you know I am crossing to Dunkirk to-morrow, weather permitting. I am flying a R.A.F. B.E. across and returning the same day, in a Nieuport if available, otherwise in a destroyer. Am quite looking forward to the trip. Have already crossed the Channel three times by air and about twelve by water.
Beaucoup de love.
Your loving son,
Harold.
XLVII.
To his Father.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
5th February, 1916.
Dear Dad,
Had a most interesting day yesterday. Started off across Channel for Dunkirk soon after 8.0 a.m. in a R.A.F. B.E.—engine running badly at first, but picked up. A most priceless morning with a slight following wind—5,000 feet at Calais, and made Dunkirk in about ¾ hour from here. All the lads in great form, but Petre [J. J. Petre, D.S.C., Flt. Comdr., R.N.] and Peberdy [W. H. Peberdy, F. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] in Paris, and Mulock [R. H. Mulock, D.S.O., Flt. Comdr., R.N.] in hospital with a chill. Baillie going strong, also Beard [G. H. Beard, D.S.C.,[15] Flt. Comdr., R.N.], Haskins [F. K. Haskins, D.S.C., Squadron Comdr., R.N.], Graham, Peal [Lieut. E. R. Peal, D.S.C., R.N.V.R.], etc., etc. Breakfast and then a good look round. The Baby Nieuports are priceless. I flew one and went up the coast to La Panne and Furnes. When I got back I drove out to Caudekirk to the new aerodrome, and then back for lunch.
At 2.0 p.m. I started home in a Nieuport and made Folkestone in just over the hour—rather a strong head wind. At Folkestone I spent 1½ hours trying to restart my engine, but with no success, so telephoned for a car—tea at the Grand and back here in time for dinner. Have been to Folkestone this afternoon with Ince and his brother and Husky.
Heaps of love.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
P.S.—Flew back at 2,000 feet.
XLVIII.
To his Mother.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
9th February, 1916.
Dearest Mum,
Many thanks for letter. Am still going strong. Flew four different types of machines to-day, two of them new ones, one a Shorthorn Maurice, and the other a Blériot. The Blériot is the first monoplane I have flown other than a parasol.
You have heard me mention Graham (with Ince he brought down the German seaplane). Well, he has just had an awful bad crash at Dunkirk. Penley [C. F. B. Penley, Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] also has crashed badly twice out there, and is now back on sick leave. Ford [E. L. Ford, Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] too is home on sick leave with his head cut open, as the result of a bad crash, and his passenger is not expected to live. If one goes on flying long enough, one is bound to get huffed [killed] in the end.
By the way, Commander Lambe [Capt. C. L. Lambe, Wing Captain, R.N.] has shipped another stripe. He is now Wing Captain and acting Captain.
Yesterday I flew to Chingford in a B.E. 2 C. with Blanch [N. C. Blanch, Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] as passenger. It was awfully cold. It took 2½ hours going, via Ashford, Redhill, Brooklands and Hendon. Blanch took the B.E. back, and I took a new Bristol Scout and did the return journey direct (east of London) in an hour. Saw the Pemberton-Billing quadruplane at Chingford.
Best love.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
A B.E. 2C BIPLANE
A NIEUPORT BIPLANE
(Commonly known as a "1½ plane" owing to the small lower plane)
A BLÉRIOT MONOPLANE
XLIX.
To his Father.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
11th February, 1916.
Dear Dad,
Had hopes of seeing you for a few minutes to-day. Had the weather been fine, Husky and I were motoring to Town in the morning with Capt. Lambe in a Rolls, and both bringing machines back in the afternoon from Chingford. As it is, of course, the weather is impossible.
I was away first, in under three minutes, the other day when the Germans were reported over Ramsgate. I was over the North Foreland in quarter of an hour at 6,000 feet. Was just turning, when I sighted a seaplane miles below me, so cut off my petrol, and did a spiral vol plané towards it. At 4,000 feet I ran into mist and lost him temporarily, but picked him up again and chased him up the mouth of the Thames almost as far as Herne Bay. Then he turned and shot under me, and I'm blessed if it wasn't a Schneider Cup, one of our own machines from Westgate! I did not hear that bombs had been dropped until I saw it in the papers the following morning. I thought the scare was about our own seaplane.
Visited the Blimps [small airships] this afternoon at Capel. They are really most interesting.
13th February, 1916.
Many thanks for note received this morning. As far as I can see, there is no chance of my going out to the other side yet awhile. Husky goes on the 25th and Andreae a little later. Two good crashes to-day. First Blanch on a new Avro—engine failure and landed down wind in a ploughed field. The second was better still. A man hit the one and only tree within miles, in getting off on a B.E. He left half a lower plane in the tree and carried a branch or so on with him for some little distance before crashing to earth.
I hear Graham is no better. He fractured the base of his skull and also has internal injuries.
Love to all.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
L.
To his Mother.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
20th February, 1916.
Dearest Mum,
Another raid on Deal to-day, five bombs dropped and one man killed. I took over the War flight this morning, and had a patrol in the air at the time. I myself and others were off within a few minutes of receiving the signal, but no one even saw the machine.
Over sixty ratings arrived this morning without warning, and I had to make all arrangements for them to be fed, housed and washed. All of them were Derby recruits and had been in the Service 24 hours, mostly graded as A.M. 2nd class. None had seen an aeroplane before. They were butchers, grocers, cotton spinners, weavers, etc.
The C.O. goes away to-morrow for 2 weeks. Sippe, Andreae, Husky, Viney [T. E. Viney, D.S.O., Flt. Lieut., R.N.], etc. go to Paris in a day or so, and I am left to run the Station, School and War flight, keeping up a continuous patrol with four machines.
Love to all.
Your loving son,
Harold.
LI.
To his Father.
Hotel Burlington, Dover.
24th February, 1916.
Dear Dad,
Many thanks for letter received yesterday.
Risk is still in town. I would far sooner get out East somewhere than any home station or Dunkirk. I understand shortly there will be great alterations in the R.N.A.S. Rumour has it again that we are to give up land machines entirely and stick to seaplanes.
Drove over to Eastchurch yesterday on business, roads in places 18″ deep in snow. Coming back I had a priceless skid and finished up in a ditch. No one hurt or even shaken. Returned here by train, and car came on to-day. It was very little damaged, steering arm bent, and one wheel slightly out of truth. It was really rather comic.
Did you hear how Usborne and Ireland[16] were killed? If not, will tell you later. T—— was burnt to death.
Love to all.
Ever your loving son,
Harold.
[13] Since this book was first published Lieut. Graham has died.
[14] Sir Henry Bax-Ironside, late Minister in Bulgaria.
[15] Since this book was first published Flt. Comdr. Beard has been killed.
[16] Wing-Commander Neville F. Usborne, R.N., and Squadron Commander de C. W. P. Ireland, R.N., were killed 23rd Feb., 1916.
THE END
PRINTED IN ENGLAND BY WILLIAM CLOWES AND SONS, LIMITED, LONDON AND BECCLES.
