  XXVIII.
To his Mother. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 29th May, 1915. Dearest Mum, Have not written for ages, but you must excuse, as we have been so busy. This is really my first opportunity. All sorts of things have been happening. To begin with, the Commander announced the other night that the whole wing is going to be recalled within the next two months, so I shall anyhow be home again before long—expect to go into seaplanes. We had a Zep scare the other night, though it was blowing half a gale. We were at the aerodrome all night, and went up at 3.0 a.m. for an hour and a half—eventually got to bed at 6.0 a.m. and slept until 10 o'clock. We have been having some lovely weather lately, except the last few days, which have been bad. All the same we keep flying in any weather, sometimes two and three trips a day. I went out to the War the other afternoon to see one of our anti-aircraft guns. We fired into the German trenches, and about two minutes later they replied with zest. Four or five shells whizzed over and burst about 30 yards behind us in a field. I picked up some fragments almost too hot to hold. We were within 1000 yards of the Huns and could see their and our own trenches rippingly through glasses. Have given up chasing Taubes. One can never get them. We have commandeered an old bathing hut for our office at the aerodrome, and have rigged up an awning outside, and bought deck chairs. You should see us all lying back in the sun with field glasses glued to our eyes, watching the various aeroplanes, with shrapnel bursting all round them. Our shooting is awfully bad on the whole. Our villa is first-rate, and oh! the gramophone has arrived safe and sound. Willing hands helped to unpack it, and we got it going in record time. It is immensely appreciated. We had some Belgian officers to dinner the other night, and last night we visited them. They are awfully good fellows and we got on famously. Last night was great fun. The Belgian C—— had unfortunately swallowed two submarines by mistake, and the only English he knew was, "To your eyes." This we drank, also "England toujours" and "Vive les Belges." English and French songs were sung, etc., etc. There was a huge uproar. The Belgian C—— would insist on wearing B——'s hat, and bestowed many kisses on the badge before parting with it. I do wish my camera would arrive, as I am missing some great opportunities. Love to all. XXIX.
To his Sister. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 30th May, 1915. Dear old Girl, Just a line or so, which I fear will be late, to wish you many happy returns. I suppose I shall have to forget these occasions very shortly, or at least to pretend to. Am enclosing a pound note for you to get yourself some oddments, as there is nothing to be had out here. I went into Dunkirk for lunch to-day—every one was very cheery. I had a wonderful view of part of the front this evening, every trench and shell hole standing out with extraordinary clearness. Am hoping to be home again before long. Very best love. XXX.
To his Father., No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 1st June, 1915. Dear Dad, Have had quite a number of thrills since I wrote last. Yesterday afternoon I reached a height of 10,400 feet on my Avro on a reconnaissance, which is my height record so far—some vol planÉ descending. In the evening we had a 'phone message, "Stand by to attack Zeppelin," and on looking out, there it was as large as life a few miles out to sea and very high. We rushed up to the aerodrome and got off by 8.40 p.m. I went straight out to sea after it and got to 6000 feet in 15 minutes, but was never within ten miles of the thing. I wasn't overtaking it at all, but on the contrary it was gaining on me, and after half an hour I lost sight of it. The sun, of course, was right down by now and I steered home by various lights on shore, for the coast was quite invisible. Had some difficulty in picking out the aerodrome, although huge petrol flares were out, but made quite a good landing. I came in very flat but never saw the ground at all. I touched it when I thought I was still 50 feet up, and also caught the top of the hedge coming into the aerodrome—it was most deceptive. G——, you will remember, was killed at Hendon through not flattening out soon enough. We next had some dinner, but mine was spoilt through a message from the Commander, which contained instructions for me to drop bombs on an airship shed at Gontrode, near Ghent. The moon rose soon after midnight and at 1.30 a.m. I started off. Things in general have a most depressing aspect at that hour of the morning. I went out to sea via Zeebrugge, and then cut inland. When I arrived at the place, there was a thick ground mist and dawn was just breaking. I could not see the sheds at all, but two searchlights were going hard. I half circled round, when lo! and behold! I sighted the Zeppelin coming home over Zeebrugge. I turned off due east to avoid being seen, intending to wait until he came down and then to catch him sitting. But my luck was out. One of the searchlights picked me up, and anti-aircraft guns immediately opened fire on me. 108ajpg A ZEPPELIN AIRSHIP BEING USED FOR TRAINING PERSONNEL AT THE JOHANNISTHAL AERODROME, NEAR BERLIN 108bjpg A ZEPPELIN IN THE DOUBLE SHED AT JOHANNISTHAL, WITH THE SMALLER PARSEVAL SHED NEXT DOOR 108cjpg A TAUBE-TYPE GERMAN MONOPLANE Then a curious thing happened. The Zeppelin sighted me (I think the searchlights were signalling) and immediately came for me. This was the tables turned on me with a vengeance, and the very last thing I ever dreamt of. It was a regular nightmare. I was only 6000 feet up, and the Zepp, which was very fast, must have been ten. Without being able to get above it, I was, of course, helpless and entirely at the mercy of his maxim guns. I don't think I have been so disconcerted for a long time. We had "some" race! He tried to cut me off from Holland, but I got across his bows. He was a huge big thing, most imposing, and turned rapidly with the greatest of ease. I hung around north of Ghent, climbing hard, and reached 8,500 feet, but the Zepp wasn't having any. He wasn't coming down while I was there, and I, on the other hand, couldn't get up to him, as he had risen to some fabulous height, so after a bit I pushed off home feeling very discontented at such an unsatisfactory ending. What else could I do? I wasn't going back on the chance of spotting the sheds, with anti-aircraft guns waiting for me below and a Zepp ready to pounce on me from above. I disposed of my bombs in the sea before landing, and got back after three hours in the air—eventually got to bed at something after 6 a.m. Have been in to see the Commander to-day, and he was kind enough to tell me I had done all that was possible. He also gave me a little job, which necessitates my getting away soon after midnight to-night. Pray the Lord my engine holds out! Love to all. P.S.—I hear the Zepp dropped bombs at ——. I must have followed him half-way across. XXXI.
To his Mother. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 2nd June, 1915. Dear Mum, Just a line to let you know how I fared last night. I left the aerodrome in the moonlight at one in the morning and I did not at all relish it. I went out to sea past Zeebrugge and cut in over Northern Belgium. Could see the lights of Flushing quite plainly, but it was quite hopeless to find my destination, owing to a thick ground mist, so I returned, dropping my bombs on Blankenberghe on the way. I was only away 1¾ hours, and it was just getting light as I got back. I landed with the help of flares and got to bed by 4 a.m. Love to all. XXXII.
To his Father. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 5th June, 1915. Dear Dad, Very little news to tell you, but thought you might like a line or so. I saw in the papers that poor old Barnes[12] has been killed and Travers [H. C. Travers, Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] slightly injured. You remember meeting them both at Hendon. Their names appeared in the casualty lists, so I presume it was not an ordinary smash. Have heard no particulars, but I should fancy they both went up at night after the Zepps, and either had an engine failure or misjudged landing. That's another old Hendonite gone, though he wasn't one of the original ones, and don't think he is in the big photo group. We lost a seaplane pilot out here the other day. He was brought down off Ostend. Also an awfully nice Belgian I know was taken prisoner two days ago. Have returned my Avro to headquarters and am now flying my B.E. again. I only hold the controls just on getting off and on landing. I don't like them [the B.E. machines] in bad weather. They are too automatic. I have been getting some fine views lately of the lines. It's most interesting up this way. Babington went home some days ago and Sippe is now in charge here. He has been unwell the last three days, so I am left in command of the station—four officers under me, over 30 men, machines, and seven or eight motors of various descriptions. Have hopes of being given a Nieuport in a day or so. They are fast scouts, supposed to do over 90 miles per hour, and should get a Zepp with one with any luck. Don't know when I am rejoining Babington. Love to all. XXXIII.
To his Mother. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 5th June, 1915. Dearest Mum, I think you cannot have been getting all my letters, as I have never let 10 days go by without a line or so. You are so insistent on numerous letters that you must really excuse the margin or I shall reduce to postcards. Yes, I got the five pounds all right and am urgently wanting the other. You don't seem to fully realize yet that I have left Dunkirk, and that there is not, and never has been, such a thing as a bank within miles of the place. The camera and papers turned up yesterday, for which many thanks. Do send Flight and the Aeroplane. I have not seen them for weeks. Am just about fed up with this place. We are being turned out and having tents up at the aerodrome. Big haul last night. Warneford [R. A. J. Warneford, V.C., Flt. Sub-Lieut., R.N.] caught a Zepp at 6,000 feet and did it in, and another was caught in its shed by Wilson and Mills [J. S. Wilson, D.S.C.; F. Mills, D.S.C., both Flight Comdrs., R.N.]. There was also a huge fire at the hospital here last night. All the wounded men were got out, and the sands were strewn with them in beds, etc. Love to all. XXXIV.
To his Father. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 8th June, 1915. Dear Dad, We are now in tents. Great news about Warneford, isn't it? He certainly deserves the V.C. Am going to fly a Nieuport to-morrow. Things have been going on much as usual the last few days, but to-morrow I am going down south somewhere (I don't yet know where) to do some spotting for the army. Expect to be away about ten days or perhaps two weeks. Address all letters as usual. It will probably be some time before I receive them. I quite expect I shall run across a number of people I know. It should be an interesting visit, plenty of shell fire though, no doubt. I flew a Nieuport the other day and hope later to get one of my own. Have not yet heard from Babington. Fear our chances of getting away with him are very slender. Gramophone going strong. Love to all. 114ajpg LIEUT. ROSHER FLYING A BRISTOL "BULLET" 114bjpg A FIRE CAUSED BY LONG-RANGE BOMBARDMENT
Photographed from an aeroplane 114cjpg FLIGHT-SUB-LIEUT. WARNEFORD, V.C., AND HIS MORANE "PARASOL" XXXV.
To his Mother. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S., B. Squadron, B.E.F. 19th June, 1915. Dearest Mum, It's ages since I wrote, but it can't be helped, as I have been so awfully busy. For the last week I have been in the neighbourhood of La BassÉe, and of course by now you have seen in the papers all about the heavy fighting there. The bombardment was terrific, quite impossible to describe. One day, in the afternoon, I saw it all from above. The small section of trenches they were shelling was simply a mass of smoke and dust, a perfect hell. In the evening of the same day I went out in a car to a point of vantage about three miles behind the line. It was a wonderful sight. Though not near enough to see the infantry advancing, we had, all the same, a fine view. Whenever there was a slight lull in the firing, we heard the maxims and rifles hard at it. There is no mistaking the battle line in this part of the world—a long, narrow winding blighted patch of land, extending roughly N. and S. as far as the eye can see. In the middle of it two rows of trenches, in places only 50 yards apart, stand out very conspicuously. These are our first line and that of the Huns. Behind each are the second and third lines, with little zigzag communicating trenches between. It is most interesting. There are some beastly Archies [anti-aircraft guns] though, which come unpleasantly near first shot. Machines are being hit day after day. Am more or less comfortable on the whole, but running short of socks and hankies. Am also being bitten to death and "hae my doots" about their being mosquitoes. Terrible trouble with machines. I crashed an undercarriage the other day and cannot get an engine to go. Isn't it terrible news about Warneford? He fell out of his machine, not being strapped in. Babington is in hospital. His foot is giving him trouble again, so fear we shall not get away with him yet awhile. The dust out here is appalling. Will write again as soon as I can. Best love to all. XXXVI.
To his Father. No. 1 Squadron, Royal Flying Corps, B.E.F. 24th June, 1915. Dear Dad, Very little news. From what I can see, we are likely to be down here for at least another two weeks. I don't much mind, as in a way I would sooner be here for a little. The change though has rather worn off. Am not a bit comfortable, my billet being a horrible dirty place, with all sorts of weird odours. Food pretty fair, but none too clean, and all eating utensils invariably very dirty. I suppose tennis is in full swing at home. Pity I'm not due for another spot of leave yet. I got the parcel of papers all right, but not Flight and the Aeroplane. Think they must have gone astray. I flew my old B.E. back here [Dunkirk] yesterday, as it has been hot stuffed [requisitioned]. I admit it is rather a dud, but I had no wish to exchange it for a Voisin. After some little trouble I persuaded the Commander to let me have a Morane instead, and tried quite a nice one this morning, the first time I have flown one since I smashed. They are beastly unstable things, and I fully expect to turn this one over before the week is out. The Commander is keeping me here for a few days' rest before returning to the R.F.C. Dunkirk is quite a lively place nowadays. The Huns have dropped bombs on the aerodrome twice in the last week, but fortunately none of the lads were killed. Love to all. Note. On the 25th July, 1915, Harold Rosher arrived home on two days' leave, having come across to attend a conference. XXXVII.
To his Father. No. 1 Wing, R.N.A.S. B.E.F. 28th July, 1915. Dear Dad, Have had a ripping journey back. The country down to Folkestone was just too lovely for words, especially round Ashford. Saw Milverton [the house where he was born] on the way. Had a first-rate crossing, and was met by one of the Rolls [Rolls-Royce car] at Boulogne, so your wire arrived all right. Had lunch at the "Folkestone" before starting back, and then a topping run here. Went out to see the lads at F—— in the evening. Sippe is back again and Baillie in great form. He sends his chin chins, and I gave him yours. A Hun came over at midnight last night and bombed us. His eight bombs fell nearly a mile away, though. More excitement. I was due for an anti-aircraft patrol this morning, and just as I was ready, a little before 4.0 a.m., a Hun machine came over and bombed us. Three bombs fell within a hundred yards of me. I went up after him at once, but lost sight of him in the air, so continued the usual patrol. When I got back, I found that six other machines had followed the first, arriving about fifteen minutes after. None of their bombs did any damage at all. They seem determined to strafe this place. A regular cloud of machines goes up after them whenever they appear, but we haven't had much luck as yet. Expect to be stationed at Dover again in about ten days, for a little while anyhow. The Commander seems to think I don't look fit enough to go out to the Dardanelles. Apparently they are being bowled over with dysentery. Love to all.
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