Free 1916 Angels over the Somme (British Ace Book 3) by Griff Hosker Page A

on my shoulder.  “Remember Colonel McCartney and his lads. They have to walk across a field of death.  At least we are going a little faster than that.”
    “You are right sir, sorry. As my lads are grounded will I just lead Gordy’s flight?”
    “You can take up the two new pilots.  It will be a baptism of fire but you look after your pilots.” I looked at Archie quizzically. He smiled, “Holt and Carrick both grumbled that they would have had no trouble if you had been there, Bill.  You are their rabbit’s foot.”
    “Righto sir.  I had better see them now and run them through a few things.”
    I found Lieutenants Swan and Dunston playing darts in the mess.  They snapped to attention when I entered. I suddenly felt old for they both looked like schoolboys.  We had been so busy lately that I had not even introduced myself to them.
    “I’m Captain Harsker and tomorrow you will be flying with me while we escort some bombers.”
    They seemed not to hear the second part.  “I am Roger Swan sir and it is an honour to serve with you.”
    I saw both of them looking at my medals. I would have to begin wearing overalls to hide them.  I found this hero worship a little uncomfortable. “Yes well it will be a difficult operation tomorrow as the BE 2 we will be escorting struggles to fly at more the seventy miles per hour. The Germans have all the time in the world to shoot them down. How many hours have you had in the Gunbus?”
    Lieutenant Dunston said, eagerly, “I have ten hours!”
    I was impressed, “In a Gunbus?”
    He looked crestfallen. “Well no sir, that was in a trainer, an Avro.  We both have an hour in a Gunbus.”
    I tried to keep the fear from my voice. “And have you flown with a gunner in the front before now?”
    “Er no, sir.  Does it make a difference?”
    “Come with me, both of you. Get your flying helmets.” It was the middle of the afternoon and no one was flying.  I saw Sergeant McKay working on Holt’s aeroplane. “Is my bus finished?”
    “All fuelled and ready to go.”
    “Good I’m taking her up.” I looked at the two of them. “Right, Swan, get up front in the gunner’s cockpit.” Once he was there I showed him how to rig our rudimentary speaking tube. “Dunston, when I am aboard, give the propeller a spin.”
    He looked appalled.  “Don’t the mechanics do that sir?”
    I saw Sergeant McKay suppress a chuckle. “Just do it and stand back when you have done so.  One armed pilots aren’t much use out here.”
    I climbed aboard and put on my helmet. “Contact!”
    “Contact!”
    The freshly serviced engine roared into life and I set her down the grassy runway. As soon as I got high enough I said.  “I am going to loop, hang on!”
    I did a loop and I noticed that he gripped the cockpit for grim death.  When we flew straight and level I heard him give a nervous laugh. “That was fun sir!”
    “Good then you will love this.  Take off the speaking tube and turn around.  I want you to imagine firing the rear Lewis gun.”
    “You are joking sir!”
    “I never joke about flying.  Just do it.” It was almost comical how long it took him.  I could see that he was totally petrified. He gripped the gun as though his life depended on it. I banked a little and he screamed. I shouted, “Shall we try a loop?”
    “No sir, please!!!”
    “Right, sit down and we will land.”
    As soon as we landed he jumped out and vomited. “Right Dunston; get aboard. Swan when you have finished examining your lunch, turn the propeller!”
    To be fair to Lieutenant Dunston he did not throw up but he looked a little green when we landed. As we walked back to the mess, much to the amusement of the ground crew, I said, “Now then what did you learn up there?”
    “That I never want to be a gunner sir! They must be mad.”
    “Oh we are.”
    “You were a gunner, sir?”
    “Oh yes.  I was a sergeant gunner and I was on the rear Lewis when a young officer like you two decided