June 30th, 1918

From Uhlan #12

Witnessed Pendragon down HD1 (18?)

Took Flik61 on a stroll to the rendevous point and met with Fliks 105g and 41j. Topped off the fuel and oil, double checked everthing, and we all lifted into the blue so the heavy bombers could deliver their presents. A very uneventful trip to the target area, but a long agonizing wait for the bombers to do their work - certain that at any moment every SPAD ever built would apear out the clouds over my head.

At last I saw orange/black balls appear all about the railyard below and a great plume of steam from a locomotive and took my first breath since we had arrived. I scanned around and found one of the big "Freddies" but could not spot the other. Then I was surprised to see the big bird turning back towards the railyard! I wasn going to have none of this! and signalling the flight to stay put, I dove down to the bomber and signalled "return-to-base." The nose gunner saw me and got the pilot's attention. Even with goggles and cap I could see his perplexed look while the nose gunner nodded wildly, looking back and forth from me to the pilot and back. The pilot nodded and gave a slight, crest fallen gesture of compliance and banked the big ship onto a homeward course.

The almost peaceful flight to the return field was shattered when I spotted the glint that could only be the aluminum finish of the Hanriots and Nieuports the Italians used where I expected to see the braod wings of our bomber. I immeadiately went into a twisting dive that brought me onto the Hanriot's tail just after Pendragon had put several rounds into him, and added some of mu own. I carefully pulled into a high arching turn to loose some of my excess speed. I glimpsed another Berg on the way down to join us. Coming down the Hanriot was approaching from my right and I rolled right and continued nose down to go under his path and come up on his tail. Rolling left again as he passed over me I head a a tearing sound and then a crack. I looked about for the Hanriot, who wasn't were I expected him to appear and found him slowly dropping like a dropped sheet of paper. I couldn't get an angle to fire at him and passed Pendragon going the other way as I circled around. The Italian recovered just as Pendragon aligned his sights on him. The Hanriot halted it's manuevers, went into a slight left bank, and spiraled to earth, it's pilot no visible to me. It touched ground, lost it's undercarriage, and skidded to a stop. No one moved in the cockpit.

Looking about for uninvited guests I found the dilligent Kugelfang shadowing me.

We all landed at the aerodrome after so long over enemy territory relieved and exhausted. The other bomber had engine troubles and had made it home safely; We had suffered no losses!

Leaving the crews to fold up the Freddies and put them in their boxes, I took the combined flight of scouts out for a stroll over the front. We flew for miles without a sign of the enemy though off to the east we saw black plumes where their bombers had been. Finally I spotted something coming from our side headed west to cross the front behinds us. I turned to follow what could only have been a SPAD homeward bound. Diving I got close enoght to see a large white number on it's wing that looked like a 5 from my distance, but I never got closer. The SPAD, still oblivious to the presence of Pendragon and myself, hurtled west ward until I lost sight of it. Pen and I turned for home and landed, both of us obviously wishing we could think of a way to stop a speeding SPAD.

Feldwebel Anheim, Flik24, #17.

Sharing bombing claim on C1-8 bridge with Feldwebel Helmut

"No escort available". I rubbed my head as I read the words again. Could these orders be some sort of joke? Perhaps a clerical error. Something had to be amiss. After getting confirmation of the orders, and the lack of scouts, I penned a quite letter to Mother and asked my ground crew to make sure she got it if I didn't make it home. Helmut and I worked out a plan for our attack. Instead of both of us trying for high level bombing, it was decided that I would instead fly the UFAG C2 light bomber. This way, I could help cover Helmut should we encounter any Entente fliers.

Helmut and I took the field earlier than we had been, wanting to check and recheck our aircraft before this harrowing mission. Theo was carefully storing his drums of ammunition, ensuring that each was readily available to him in case we needed them. The time was upon us to start our sortie. The relatively quiet air was broken by the sharp stuttering coughs of our engines spinning up. I let my plane idle for a few moments, watching intently on the gauges for signs of abnormalities. Confident that everything was as it should be, Helmut and I took to the air.

No sooner had our wheels come off the ground Helmut began signalling that he had to land again. I circled our aerodrome as he banked around and place his HB on the grass. I saw the ground crew run over and pull open the cowling of his plane, her engine still going. Apparently something minor must have shaken loose, for within a few minutes they were closing her up and Helmut we rolling once more. I used the opportunity to get some alititude, all the while sweating that the mechanical problems might make this is a solo flight.

Once comfortably in the air, we turned north on our now familiar flight path. I watched as Theo ominously stared to the western sky. Like a man convinced something was there, he never broke this gaze. My own eyes roamed the air around us, but a fair portion of my time was required to keep formation with Helmut and navigate. Theo pointed downward ahead of us. I leaned over and saw our landmark for the turn west. Craning my torso around, I signaled Helmut that it was time to make for our mark. Gently I put the UFAG (as a side note..I really wonder about who comes up with the designations for these planes) into a left bank, Helmut coming about a bit sharper as we changed from Line Astern to Line Abreast (if you can call two planes a true formation).

As we made our way across the dirty deathsoil below I kept bumping my nose up, gradually grabbing what altitude I could. Theo at this point looked like a man lost in the woods, his head snapping in each direction. He kept rattling the Spandau in her ring, obsessively making sure she would turn when he needed her. The scarred landscape again gave way to the familiar grassy tracks of Treviso. Over to my left I saw the first part of the river. The familiar landmarks gave some comfort, as I was able to think back on the last time I was here a few short days ago. At least knowing where we were, I could focus better on making sure we made it away from here again.

Ahead the bend in the river started to take shape. Even without seeing her, I knew the bridge was there. Helmut moved ahead, his plane slowly swaying left and right. I could tell he was trying to line up for his first drop. Instead of continuing on, I took the UFAG into a smooth spiral climb. As per the plan, Helmut would attack first with me circling a short distance away watching for enemy scouts. I risked a few glances over towards Helmut and saw his pass at the target. Though the bridge was still fuzzy to me due to the distance I could tell he had made it to the other side as his plane banked right. Thunderous booms rolled up from the ground. Helmut came around again, dropping a second batch of "eggs" upon our defenseless target. And once more the low rumblings of their detonations fell upon my ears. The sky looked clear, though who is to say what could be hiding in those clouds above. I felt that Herr Helmut had done enough, so I chopped my engine and nosed the UFAG downward. I let her glide past 1000 meters, 750, 500, until I restarted her and pulled her level at about 300 meters. I had lined up on the bridge and was determined to make my one pass count.

When I had gotten close enough, I could see the damage Helmut had done. Most of the bridge was ablaze with small fires, and her structure looked bent and warped. I aimed my plane to cross her like so many carts carrying Italian equipment must have. With one hand on the stick, I held my own small bombs over the side. Crossing the first parts of her, I let loose my little packages of destruction, frantically grabbing the next and likewise tossing her over the side. In all I got my three bombs out, but only two struck true.

I gazed back over my shoulder as I put the plane into a gentle climb. The bridge could take no more! She had fallen under our attack. The massive bombardment of Herr Helmut, along with my smaller yet more direct hits caused her to collapse into the river. As I turned to rejoin Helmut, a nearby church's bell rang out. Woeful sounding, it made me reflect quickly on the wasteful destruction this war had brought. But this bridge helped our enemy kill our men. She had to be taken out. I left aside any remorse. She could be rebuilt, easy enough. After we had secured victory.

The flight home was quick. Our planes touched down at XX and all four of us jumped to the ground as the crewmen ran out to greet us. We shook hands firmly, our eyes speaking words to each other that could not be said. A couple of the groundcrewmen carried out 4 steins to us, and we toasted The Kaiser, Flik24, our planes, each other.

Once readied for flight again, we took our planes down south to try and again meet up with the others. We landed at XX and walked into the operations office to get the news of the others success. We stood at the back of room as reports of our own railyards being attacked rolled in. It was a sobering moment. Helmut and I looked at each other. Without saying anything, we both knew that someday we would face our enemy. It was only a matter of time. The only question that needed answering was, will our luck see us through again......

vonSchtupp #8, Flik105g

Score claims: bombed railyard

Witnessed #2 Flik41j shoot down #16

Uneventful trip to the target, made multiple passes on the tgt will little apparent effect [Target destroyed is 'little effect?]. Ordered to return to base. Just before no NML sighted allied #16 and fired guns to alert my escorts, but htey already had the situation well in hand. #2 shot down the nme plane as I dove for our lines. No other enemy sighted.

Kugelfang, #11, Flik61j

It was a joy to see our modern machines wreak their terrible devastation. We escorted some of our heavy bombers as they attacked an enemy RR station. The flight was uneventful and the station was utterly destroyed. We were actually high above them, safely tucked into the cloud in case they were threatened by enemy machines. But, I did not see any of the perfidious Italians or Americans. In fact, so much of our mission was performed in clouds I was afraid that we would not see the enemy if they approached from below.

I believe the bombers greatly enjoyed their work. The certainly took their time in doing it! I was beginning to think that the entire flight was going to make an unexpected fuel stop in Italian territory. Most of the flight was scattered in the clouds on the way home. At one time I followed the flight leader as he dove to earth in pursuit of something. I could see the tracers but by the time I reached the area everything was over. I was not even aware that an enemy plane had been downed until we landed. Luckily everyone had been thoroughly briefed and returned to base on schedule.

There was enough light for a second short patrol (barely) but I was suffering from vision problems (acid tiles! Yyrrcchh!) so I begged off and went to bed.

vonCubb

Flew bomber escort mission; Tgt. destroyed. Mission success.

Maxfusion (CO) (on leave until computer up and running again!)

Helmut #15, Flik24k

Score claims: killed target at C1-8 with a lot of help from Sebastian.

2042 at airdrome
2052 Joined by Sebastian. Sebastian presented planned attack in absence of CO.
2102 Took off for airdrome XX. Needed to make immediate return to base for adjustments to flight surfaces. Sebastian hung back, thank God. Took off immediately after OK from resident flight crew. I appreciate their work But God I miss my crew chief in these emergencies. Finally formed up tight with Sebastian over airdrome #XX at
2140. Proceeded West to Target. I made three passes at target with unknown success while Sebastian in his Light Bomber reconnoitered for EA. When I signaled that I was out of ordnance, Sebastian swung into action gallantly to successfully finish off the job. We made an uneventful trip back to airdrome #XX to regroup (and share a stein or two or three with Sebastian). Quite heady under the influence of the fine Austrian Bier Sebastian produced, (It was his turn to buy you see), we decided to rendezvous at airdrome #XX, hoping to find compatriots that we could brag to. Here, we sat drinking what ever was available. I caution Sebastian to stay away from what the locals called Grapa as this was the poison that rendered me unavailable a few [days] ago. I have since learned this (Grapa) is an Allied nerve potion. Please advise all personnel. Considering our mission complete we dragged our aircraft into the nearest hanger. It is here that I can’t tell you where Herr Sebastian went, all I remember is being woken up by a very rude corporal the next day to get "this crate out of his sight". Like I said before, I miss my crew chief in these emergencies. May also add that this is not the first time I have witnessed excellent leadership skills, (and expertise in the fine art of fermenting Bier), in Sebastian and that he be promoted at the first opportunity. Respectfully Yours Helmut

Spatz (CO)

Pendragon #2 Flik41j

Help escort our heavy bombers to target, was worried about fuel whe nwe finally headed back. I decided to cut my mixture considerably to conserve fuel and tagged along with the bomber at his speed.

Then I noticed a plane infront of us and it wasn't a friendly design, He must have then noticed the big [Frederick] bomber and he circle round to get at her. He did not see me in behind until it was too late and the battle was joined. Uhlan joined in a few moments later and touched wings with our foe...an Italian scout marked #18. A piece of the enemies wing folded off and he was spinning...I followed him down. When he recovered I began shooting and was immediately rewarded with blood on my goggles I then watch him go all the way down...

Flew a patrol with Uhlan and others...Sighted a spad but could not catch. Claim enemy #18

Die Eule #6 Flik41j Status: Wounded Plane: Destroyed (Pfalz D.XII) EA Engaged: #11

I did not think this was going to be a good day to fly. I could feel it in my bones. I wanted to stay away but orders are orders. I reported to the drome to get ready for the flight. I got my orders. Escort duty. At least it was going to be exciting.

21:00 Took off from my base to base #18 to meet the rest of the escort group as well as the bombers.
21:05 Landed at #18
21:15 Took off westward bound.
21:35 Encountered heavy flak. Suddenly a sputter, a gasp, and a belch of black smoke. I thought for an instant the engine was going to quit. But then it recovered. Again I wondered why I had left the base. We were to deep into enemy territory to go down. One would never make it out without getting captured. I prayed the engine would hold out.
21:45 Target reached, bombing has begun. I saw some nice explosions. I wish I had a camera.
22:00 Bombing stopped, target destroyed.
22:30 I am near base #16, and I can hear the air raid sirens. I am almost out of fuel with a 1/4 tank remaining. I was going to land, but I decided to circle the area a few times to see if I could find the enemy.
22:40 Found the enemy. Made a couple of runs past him with guns blazing. I hit him pretty hard several times. He turned and made a run for his own side, I could not follow with so little fuel so I turned back to base #XX. The enemy (#11) is very bold indeed. He has come back for some more punishment. I rolled and turned towards him, again with guns blazing in his direction. This is first time he returned fire. As far as I know no bullets hit my plane. He has a fast plane, and I had a hard time trying to catch him. But I knew if I kept added more lead ballast to his fuselage he would eventually slow down. I had to let him retreat, as he tried to pull me away from my base. I checked my fuel, 1/8 of a tank. I could not follow. As I turned for my base I pulled the throttle back, and dropped my altitude to make an approach to land. I checked my six one last time, and there was the allied plane closing in fast. I turned and opened fire, I was so close that I could see the sparks flying of his cylinder heads as the rounds hit his engine. Then I realized what was happening.... so close, and closing faster. I could see the look of terror in the allied pilots eyes we were so close. He banked right, and I dove down. I nearly didn't escape with my head intact. His left wing took my rudder off. I heard the dreaded sound of ripping fabric and cracking wood. I instantly rolled over in the air, I could see fabric and wood flying all around me. I caught a glimpse of the allied plane missing its lower left wing. I thought I never saw a plane with three wings before, just as a realized this would be the last time I would see anything again. I pulled as hard as I could back on the stick as the ground came rushing up to meet me. My airspeed was slow, and the plane was straight. I hit the ground and the plane bounced into the air. I felt my spine compress as the wheels hit the ground again, this time they could not bear the pressure, they gave out. My wing dipped left and caught the ground, ripping it from the fuselage. The plane continued rolling left for what I thought was an eternity. I could hear the sounds of crashing in the near distance, and well as my own fabric ripping from my plane. I laid over on my side and came to a stop, looking at the ground a few inches from my face. I feared fire but it never came. I guess not having any fuel left was a blessing in disguise. I was only a few hundred yard from one of our air bases, and I could here the ambulance coming. I unstrapped my harness and crawled from the wreckage. The allied plane was nearby, and I wondered if the pilot was still alive. I dropped to my knees, unable to check to see who my adversary was.

The next thing I remember is waking up here in the hospital bed. I was told the allied pilot never made it. I am sorry that he didn't make it. It was truly unfortunate to die in that manner. My victory came at a great cost. And I will always remember the last expression of terror on that pilots face as we collided in the air, and the loss of my first aircraft so near home. I knew I should have stayed in bed today.
[Allied pilot did survive and was made a prisoner after recovering from his wounds.]

Gewin - on leave

Patrick Wilson - on leave

I borrowed a broken down motorcycle and raced over to the departure aerodrome to make start at 2100. Bruno had already ferried over the twin-engined G3 we would be using today.

This time, we had the reassurance of a full escort. The sound of our take-off must have led the farm folk the impression that we were lauching the entire effective K.U.K air force against the Italians. And they would not have been too far wrong.

Von Stupp flew number 8, Bruno and I took number 7, picking up a gunner from one of the grounded crews at F105g. We proceeded slowly across no man’s land climbing to xxxx meters. The G3 is a mighty plane, but climbs like a locomotive. We flew over allied aerodrome xx but there was no sign of EA. Probably hiding in the hangars, afraid we might have a few eggs to drop on their nest. The scouts maintained our cover flying far overhead of Von Stupp and I.

I signaled for a turn southeast to pick up the railway leading to our target. Von Stupp and the escorts flew staight on. I angered at what appeared to be their disregard for Bruno, the gunner, and my half of the mission, but learned later that our cover was above us, outside of VS.

We tracked in along the railway and set our new bombsight on a particularly enticing string of boxcars near the depot. We sent down our present, disappointed that we did not get a direct hit, but hoping that the very near miss would be good enough for this run.

A long slow turn to the south put us in position for a lateral run at the rail-yard. I set my sights on the depot itself. At that point I could here bombs striking, certainly from Von Stupp’s G3. Just as we locked in for our final approach, I heard Bruno cursing and felt the left wing dropping. We heeled over into about a 45 degree bank, which ruined the bombing run and put us out of action. Were it not for Bruno’s skilled flying, we never would have made it back to base.

It was damned dirty fuel again. The mechanics got the reluctant engine running and I suggested that we save the ground crews the risk of unloading our ordnance. We started back for our target. But in my enthusiasm and dedication to service to the Emperor I underestimated time to target. We turned back east along the rail line and dropped bombs on the rail head and factory before returning home. Everyone else was gone to the village, the big planes were in their hangers. Bruno and I realized that all the pretty ones had likely chosen daring scout flyer’s laps for the evening, and that what nice ones were left were probably batting their eyes at von Stupp and his pilot. A disappointing day ended with Bruno and I taking the motorcycle back to our base, and drinking ourselves to sleep on the few bottles of Boch we salvaged from the wreck of the old boxcar/beer cellar at our rail station.