Description:
With the beginning of October, 94 Squadrons took on a new phase of air fighting. We were taken away from the General Orders affecting the 1st Pursuit Wing and were delegated to patrol the lines at low altitude--not exceeding two thousand feet. This meant serious business to us, for not only would we be under more severe Archie fire, but we would be an easy target for the higher Hun formations, who could dive down upon us at their own pleasure. These new orders were intended to provide a means of defense against the low-flying enemy machines which came over our lines. Usually they were protected by fighting machines. Rarely did they attempt to penetrate to any considerable distance back of No Man's Land. They came over to follow the lines and see what we were doing on our front, leaving to their high-flying photographic machines the inspection of our rear. On October 2, Reed Chambers led out the first patrol under these new orders. He had five machines with him, and I went along on a voluntary patrol to see how the new scheme was going to work out. In order to act somewhat in a protective capacity, I took a higher level and followed them back and forth over their beat at two thousand feet or more above them. The course of this patrol was between Sivry-sur-Meuse and Romagne. We had turned back toward the west at the end of one beat and were nearing the turning point when I observed a two-seater Hanover machine of the enemy trying to steal across our lines behind us. He was quite low and was already across the front when I first discovered him. In order to tempt him a little farther away from his lines I made no sign of noticing him but throttled down to my lowest speed and continued straight ahead with some climb. The pilots in Chambers' formation were below me and had evidently not seen the intruder at all. Calculating the positions of our two machines, as we drew away from each other, I decided I could now cut off the Hanover before he reached his lines, even if he saw me the moment I turned. Accordingly, I turned back, aiming at a point just behind our front, where I estimated our meeting must take place. To my surprise, however, the enemy machine did not race for home but continued ahead on his mission. Was this brazenness, good tactics mixed with abundant self-confidence, or hadn't the pilot and observer seen me up above them? I wondered what manner of aviators I had to deal with, as I turned after them and the distance between us narrowed. A victory seemed so easy that I feared some deep strategy lay behind it all. Closer and closer I stole up in their rear, yet the observer did not even look about him to see if his rear was safe. At one hundred years I fixed my sights upon the slothful observer in his rear cockpit and prepared to fire. He had but one gun mounted upon a tournelle and his gun was not even pointing in my direction. After my first burst he would swing it around, I conjectured, and I would be compelled then to come in through his stream of bullets. Well, I had two guns to his one and he would have to face double the amount of bullets from my Spad. Now I was at fifty yards and could not miss. Taking deliberate aim, I pressed both triggers. The observer fell limply over the side of his cockpit without firing a shot. My Spad carried me swiftly over the Hanover, which had begun to bank over and turn for home as my first shots entered its fuselage. Heading off the pilot, I braved his few shots and again I obtained a position in his rear and had him at my mercy. And at that very critical moment both of my guns jammed! Infuriated at this piece of bad luck I still had the thought to realize that the enemy pilot did not know I could not shoot, so I again came up and forced him to make a turn to the east to avoid what he considered a fatal position.
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