by NICHOLX, 6/8/23
7.5 K words
Two Pfalz biplanes approached from ten o'clock high, spandaus blazing, riddling my fuselage and elevators. I rolled right and reduced power, dropping quickly while Scotty pulled into a steep climb, then flipped. As the Boche passed over me, Scotty dived and fired a salvo from above, killing one pilot. The other Boche banked right, a mistake, and I was able to get on his tail. I fired my Lewis, spending half the clip. He trailed smoke, inverted, then burned. He jumped but his chute was aflame. My stomach turned.I wanted to knock them down, but I had no wish to kill anyone.
Scotty and I paired and joined the ongoing dogfight, and it was already winding down. We were lucky today: the Boche lost three and we had no losses. They regrouped unexpectedly and rocked wings indicating they were disengaging. Perhaps they had just had enough for one day, or were low on petrol, or both. Their lead plane, a red Eindecker, came close alongside me. and I knew then why they had disengaged. The pilot saluted, and as I returned the salute I was surprised that it was Horst! He smiled and nodded, then led his flight eastward. I thought: I want to live, but if ever Horst and I cross swords, then just take me, Lord, for I would rather die than kill such a fine man. I once thought of myself as a soldier whose duty was to vanquish the enemy, to kill without remorse, without a second thought. But strangely I find myself liking them, even...admiring them.
God help me, if I am to survive I cannot let myself think like this. Nothing is clear to me anymore, except the thought of her. I pressed Helga's medal to my chest so hard that it broke the skin. I would give anything right now for a touch of her hand, a breath of her hair, a kiss of her mouth.
Our flight continued southeast in a V formation for a few miles, then turned back to base, with no further sighting of the enemy, landing in mid morning.
Another delicious aroma awaited us as we entered the barrack. I yelled "What's for lunch, Cookie?"
"Chicken gumbo, from yesterday's chicken, over french bread. It'll be ready at twelve hundred. Coffee is hot."
We sat sipping coffee laced with brandy. "So Captain, what is our agenda?" I said.
"The general order from above is to reconnoiter twice daily, and to engage in combat only if attacked. It seems that hostilities are being reduced all along the front, thank Christ. Orders will be posted for one morning patrol and one in mid afternoon, so that each man will fly only once each day," Renaud said.
Cookie had spiked the gumbo with red wine, and it was delicious, especially with a nice cold German beer.
After lunch I needed a stretch, so I took a hot coffee and stepped outside. The ground crew were busy servicing my plane. I smiled as It occurred to me that except for size, our fragile planes were much like the models I made as a youngster, which were of wood, wire, and paper, with rubber bands for a motor. Two bullet holes were just inches behind the cockpit, so I had narrowly escaped death again. What are the odds that I would survive the war, I wondered.
The wind was unrelenting and the ground was frozen so hard you could strike a match on it. But walking seemed to ease the tension I was feeling, so I walked the length of our field, then went to the chapel. I lit a candle for Helga and prayed for her and that I would see her at least once before I died.
January 1918. The war rages on
I had not heard from Helga since the visit from Horst. We learned the location of Jasta Eleven, and it was beyond our fighter range, an extra fuel tank would be required to safely reach it. However Renaud would not permit a white-flag foray there as it was well beyond German lines, and he feared ground troops would disregard a white cloth on a French plane. So I could only wait...and pray.
I was usually assigned to the morning patrol, and doing fairly well. In March I scored my fifth confirmed victory, achieving Ace status. Cookie baked a German chocolate cake with five candles to celebrate. On a sadder note, that same day we added a second memorial shelf; as we lost five men over the last two months.
In April we learned of the death of Von Richthofen, and I mourned the passing of that honored enemy. Later I was heartened to learn that he was interred in France with full military honors.
Assigned to morning patrols, I normally returned to base around ten hundred hours. My usual routine was then to chug a half pot of coffee, and take a good long walk before lunch to stretch the legs. After lunch I passed the time writing letters to my mom and Kelly and Keely, while sipping red wine or schnapps. So far I had not received any letters from home, and hoped mine had made it through. There was no way to send mail to Helga, but I made the habit of writing notes and little poems to her, to be given to her if ever we meet again.
June 1918
The mail finally caught up to me, as I happily received a packet of twenty-five letters from home. Sorting them by postmark, I read through them starting with the earliest, and was saddened to learn my dad had died some weeks prior. Sigh...my world sadly continues to grow smaller. A letter from Kelly and Keely cheered me up ; their parents had left to open a small shop in rural Ohio, leaving them the farm and all its interests.With that letter came a beautiful photo of the girls, smiling, completely naked, holding a large chocolate cake with "CUM EAT ME" written with icing. The photo was captioned "Hurry home, we're saving two nice pieces for you! We love you, Billy! Kisses on your balls and dickie!" I showed this photo to Scotty, who had become my closest friend. He raised his eyebrows, "Whew! Aye, lad, a perfect reason for desertion, if ever there was one!"
War, Pestilence, Famine, Death
Millions upon millions died as the Four Horsemen drove their mighty steeds across the land, plying their grim trades. The 'war to end all wars' seemingly fed on its own fury. Will it ever end? Indeed CAN it ever end?
November 10, 1918. rumors of armistice abound
A routine morning patrol, in seven-man V formation, heading east. Out of the sun, eight Eindeckers pounced on us, spandaus blazing. We held formation, climbing to meet them head on. My Vickers jammed, and the Lewis was no good in this scenario. Did I want to live forever? I decided to try a maniacal maneuver: as my opponent approached at 200 mph closing speed, I nudged right rudder, then rolled right ninety degrees, and as we passed, my prop disc chewed off two feet of his left wing. He shook his fist at me like a little kid as his plane rolled wildly left and spiraled earthward. I saw him parachute safely, glad he survived. Unfortunately I lost one prop and my rotary quickly seized: I was now flying a glider! Two Eindeckers quickly converged on me, their spandaus ripping my fuselage mid section to splinters. Luckily the frame and cables held so I still had control. I took two hits in my right leg and a deep nick in my left arm, and quickly started to weaken from loss of blood. Suddenly a red Eindecker appeared at my two o'clock, and with a salvo of its twin spandaus and some hand signals from the pilot, my attackers were shooed away. The red Eindecker turned a 180 at my six o'clock, then pulled up alongside my left. It was Horst! He saluted and I returned the salute, then he cut his engine to idle so I could hear him yell, "FOLGEN SIE MIR! FOLLOW ME DOWN!" He pulled ahead and I followed in his wake as we spiraled slowly down, finally landing on a small airfield near a field hospital behind German lines. It was my first glider landing, and I was surprised the plane was still in one piece! I vaguely recall being lifted out of the cockpit and placed on a stretcher, then all went black.
Eine sehr nette Krankenschwester
I awoke on a hospital cot, with IV's in my right arm.. By the sun, it must have been mid-afternoon. The first thing I saw was a beautiful face hovering above me...her eyes were green...
"Helga? Is it really you, mein liebchen? HELGA?"
" Nein, Ich bin Hilda, deine Krankenschwester." she smiled.
"Auf Englisch, bitte. Ich kann wenig Deutsch."
"Oh. I am Hilda, your nurse. You are Billy Jones?"
"Ja. And where am I?"
"You are in a German field hospital and in no danger, and you are my prisoner until you are well, hehe," she smiled.
"Verzeihung, Hilda, but you look so much like Helga, I thought--"
"Ah, you spoke of this Helga in your sleep, is she your wife?"
"I wish she were. Helga Schultz. Do you know her?"
"Oh ja, quite well. She is my twin sister! Not identical, but very close. Our mother had an identical twin. Ha, I see by your surprised look that she didn't tell you about me. But we were always close, until the war separated us." she smiled.
"Wow, twins must be common in the Schultz family. And beautiful ones, I must say. Kelly and Keely Schultz are twins, back home in Iowa," I said.
