On another bumpy day, Greg was on Counter Battery Patrol duty. He dropped his first bomb – a 20lb Cooper bomb – and fired his first shots in anger, but without much success at least in the case of the bomb.
Saturday June 15th. E27. Counter Battery Patrol from 10 to 1 pm. Sent FL FR FD. Very bumpy. Dropped a bomb on a bridge, missed rather badly. Fired off 50 rounds into Hun lines from Vickers gun. Observer fired 100 from Lewis.
“Sent FL FR FD”
This somewhat cryptic sentence in Greg’s diary is in the active voice, not the passive voice. It refers to signals that he sent to the squadron’s Central Wireless Station (CWS), not places to where he might have been sent by them. In fact, they were weather signals:
FL: Weather fit for counterbattery work
FR: Weather fit for registration [of artillery fire onto a target]
FD: Weather fit for photography.
The corresponding ‘unfit’ signals would be UL, UR and UD, respectively.
Friday June 14th. RE 6548. Very windy, about 45 mph. Counter battery patrol 12.30 to 1.30. Fearfully bumpy. Good landing – rather more luck than anything else. Explosion near Merville.
Rely aerodrome certainly would have caught the wind. It is located on what passes for high ground in Artois, south of the Lys – just on the 100 m contour line – whereas the Lys valley around Merville is less than 20 m above sea level. Hence the fearful bumpiness.
After the false starts earlier in the week, Greg starts to ease into what will become one of his routine activities: the Counter Battery Patrol. This one, which at three hours duration was one of the longer ones, was enlivened by some ‘Archie’ – anti-aircraft fire.
Thursday June 13th. E27. Counter battery patrol from 4 to 7. Rather dud, engine rough.
One ‘Archie’ burst under tail. Two explosions in Hunland. Bad landing. Observer fired off 100 rounds into Calonne.
All the As: Archie, Ack-Ack and Anti-Aircraft Fire
‘Archie’ – anti-aircraft fire. Image: Greg’s War Collection. Click for larger image.
‘Archie’ and ‘ack-ack’ were both slang terms used by British airmen for anti-aircraft fire in the First World War. One is easier to explain than the other.
Ack-ack
Ack-ack’ is the easier term to explain, as ‘Ack’ was the letter A in an early military alphabet, as set out by The Royal Signals Museum here. AA or ack-ack was the standard abbreviation for anti-aircraft (fire).
Archie
But what of ‘Archie’? The most prevalent explanation seems to be that it derived from a popular music hall number called Archibald! Certainly not, first sung by George Robey in 1911. The story is that a pilot used to shout the song title, which was also the refrain, to his observer when an anti-aircraft shell exploded nearby (but missed), and ‘Archibald’ of course became abbreviated to ‘Archie’. Some accounts credit the first usage to Lieutenant Amyas ‘Biffy’ Borton of 5 Sqn RFC.
In a competing explanation, this source has a rather more elaborate account of the origin of the expression, quoting Ernest Weekley’s An Etymological Dictionary of Modern English (1921) :
“It was at once noticed at Brooklands [where much aviation development and testing was carried out prior to 1914, and portrayed in the film Those Magnificent Men in their Flying Machines] that in the vicinity of, or over, water or damp ground, there were disturbances in the air causing bumps or drops to these early pioneers. Some of these ‘remous’ were found to be permanent, one over the Wey river, and another at the corner of the aerodrome next to the sewage-farm. Youth being fond of giving proper names to inanimate objects, the bump near the sewage-farm was called by them Archibald. As subsequently, when war broke out, the effect of having shell bursting near an aeroplane was to produce a ‘remous’ reminding the Brookland trained pilots of their old friend Archibald, they called being shelled ‘being Archied’ for short. Any flying-man who trained at Brooklands before the war will confirm the above statement” (Col. C H Joubert de la Ferté, I M S ret.)
Well, which is right? Either way, you can hear Harry Bluff singing Archibald! Certainly not here:
Calonne
“Observer fired off 100 rounds into Calonne.” Calonne (today, Calonne-sur-la-Lys) is a small settlement 2 miles (3 km) south west of Merville, itself 17 miles (30 km) west of Lille. The German line ran through Calonne and Le Sart, to its north, at the time. Anywhere to the east of this line qualified as ‘Hunland’.
Calonne and Le Sart on a 1:40,000 map. Each square is 1,000 yards. Click for larger image. Map credit: IWM/TNA/GreatWarDigital.
Counter Battery Patrols
For an explanation of what counter battery patrols involved, see this new page in the ‘Setting the Scene – Background Articles’ series:
After yesterday’s adventures, today is a quiet day for Greg with just short flight for a rigging test on E27, which has had its undercarriage repaired overnight:
Header image: a brick and stone farm building on the rue de Liettres by the site of the First World War airfield in Rely must have looked much the same 100 years ago.
On the first day of war flying a week after his crash on 4 June 1918, Greg had a terrible day: he got hopelessly lost (in his own unsparing words), ended up at Bergues, near Dunkirk, and then smashed up his undercarriage in an awful landing (ditto) when he finally made it back to the aerodrome at Rely.
Tuesday June 11th. Gwen E27. On Counter Battery Patrol, from 7am to 10am.
Went up at 7 & landed again, weather dud.
Clouds at 600ft.
Took off again at 9am & ran into clouds at 300ft over the second line.
Got hopelessly lost; after about an hour’s flying sighted a small aerodrome. Made a good landing & enquired where I was. Found I was in Bergues, 6 miles from Dunkirk, Belgium.
After a rest, took off again & followed the main road at about 200ft, via Cassel & St Omer to the drome.
Made an awful landing, smashed the undercarriage.
I don’t know what the reference to “Gwen” signifies. An affectionate name for Greg’s newly assigned aircraft, serial number E27, perhaps?
Bergues
What a day for a novice on the front line. But it wasn’t all bad: at least he didn’t stray over the German line. Bergues is some 5 miles (8 km) SSW of Dunkirk and is in France, not Belgium. The German front line was about 18 miles (26 km) ENE from Bergues, at Rousdamme not far from where it emerged on the coast at Nieuwpoort (both in Belgium).
Perhaps during his rest in Bergues Greg sampled the local cheese that has been made there for centuries and for which the village is still known today.
Fromage de Bergues – purchased from the excellent Comptoir Laitier Fovet in Aire-sur-la-Lys, an essential stop for any cheese aficionado visiting the Pas-de-Calais/Nord region of France
Today, we have no more idea than Greg did as to what course he took on his way to Bergues. It was unlikely to be the straight line shown on this map, but the return journey following the roads via Cassel and St Omer is easier to be confident about:
Getting hopelessly lost and coming home on a modern map (courtesy Google). Click for larger image. Click here to see full Google terrain map (opens in new tab).
Smashing the undercarriage on landing must just have topped his day. He probably wished he hadn’t got up that morning.
Greg has deemed himself fit for war flying again, five days after his crash.
Diary
Sunday June 9th 1918. Told Flight Commander that I feel fit for war flying again.
Chaussée Brunehaut
But no flying for Greg that day. Perhaps he spent some time gazing over the airfield. The header image shows the view on a hazy day in June 2018 southwest over the site of Rely airfield from the Rue de Liettres towards the line of trees that mark the Thérouanne-Arras road, today’s D341, marked on some maps as a Chaussée Brunehaut (Brunhaut’s Causeway), which may be Roman in origin, or not – depending on the position you take in the debate. For more, see the Wikipedia entry here (in French, opens in new tab).
Geology of Rely and Yatesbury
The outlook was and is similar to that looking across Yatesbury airfield , where Greg started flying lessons less than three months ago, except that the distant road in that case was the London-Bath A4. The similarity of outlook isn’t surprising given the geology of Rely and the uplands of Artois on the one hand and Yatesbury and the Marlborough Downs in Wiltshire on the other: they are at opposite ends of the Weald-Artois Anticline and share the same sedimentary rocks of the Late Cretaceous period, as shown in this map:
Map of the Weald-Artois Anticline that provided Greg with a familiar landscape. Click for larger image. More details here. Adapted from original image by Wikipedia user Woudloper/Woodwalker (“a young geologist from Berne, Switzerland”). Licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.
E102 Returned to Sender
The Squadron CO’s orders for today show that E102, which had come off second best in Greg’s close encounter with a field of crops at Trézennes on 4 June, was struck off the charge of the squadron on 7 June and returned to No 1 ASD. See page 2:
Daily Orders for 9 June, page 1. Click for larger image.
Daily Orders for 9 June, page 2. Click for larger image.
Header image: shows the view on a hazy June day in 2018 southwest over the site of Rely airfield from the Rue de Liettres towards the D341, the Thérouanne-Arras road,
As his shoulder continued to improve, Greg took to the controls again without yet being restored to normal duties. But perhaps the task he was assigned made him wish he was!
Log Book
Date: 8.6.18
Hour: 10.30
Machine type: RE8
No.: E116
Passenger: Lt ?
Time: 5 m
Height: 500
Course: Aiming practice for infantry
Remarks: Engine dud. Bad landing.
Date: 8.6.18
Hour: 6.45
Machine type: RE8
No.: E116
Passenger: Mechanic
Time: 10 m
Height: 1000
Course: Engine test
Remarks: Engine OK. Good landing.
Diary
Saturday June 18th. Took up E116 to give Infantry aiming practice with anti-aircraft machine guns.
Took up an infantry officer as passenger.
Engine dud, made a bad landing on aerodrome.
Had new magneto fitted on right hand side of engine.
Took machine up again about 7.pm for engine test, with mechanic as passenger.
Engine apparently OK again.
Good landing.
What a job…
…”to give Infantry aiming practice with anti-aircraft machine guns”? Doesn’t sound like much fun. No doubt Greg hoped that they were good enough not to need much practice. And perhaps the infantry lieutenant whom Greg took up with him was less of a passenger and more of a hostage.
Greg’s recovery continues and he takes to the air again, but only as a passenger with his friend Charlesworth at the controls of Greg’s new aircraft:
Log book
Date: 7.6.18
Remarks: Did not fly
Diary
Friday June 7th 1918. Feeling much better all round. Went up as passenger with Lt Charlesworth, testing engine of RE8 E116 – our new bus. Engine apparently OK.
Meanwhile, the other business of the Squadron continued. Capt. Archer, who was in combat action only two days ago (here), was the pilot, who flew to the (unsuccessful) defence of a balloon – probably a kite balloon – near Steenbecque:
Air combat report. Click for larger image
Time: 4.50 p.m.
Locality: STEENBECQUE
Pilot: Capt. R. A. Archer, M.C.
Observer: Lieut. F. B. Sagar
Saw a hostile Scout flying towards Balloon. Decided to attack if I got a chance. E.A. was steering a roundabout course which enabled us to reach Balloon almost as soon as E.A. Dived on E.A. firing Vickers at him until a No 3 stoppage occurred. Turned to give Observer a shot and he put in about 50 rounds. In the meantime the balloon was lit and the E.A. turned home. Closest range Vickers about 150 yards. Lewis about 200 yards. E.A. did not appear to try to fire on us.
No 3 Stoppage
According to the Great War Forum’s user Andrew Upton in a post of 20 November 2016, the most common reason for a No 3 (3rd position) stoppage on the Vickers machine gun is a feed fault, but there are other possibilities, including
Insufficient headspace,
Friction in the lock,
Bent or damaged long spacers (every three rounds),
Thick-rimmed cartridge,
Stuck or “frozen” gib, overly stiff gib spring, or roughness or burrs on extractor face, and
Not enough tension on the recoil spring.
Steenbecque
Steenbecque is just north of the Nieppe Forest, 4½ miles (7 km) northwest of Aire-sur-la-Lys:
Map extract of Steenbecque and Aire, from 1:40,000 series. Each numbered square is 1,000 yds. Click for larger image. Credit: IWM/GreatWarDigital
This was Greg’s first day on the Western Front, and it nearly ended in disaster, as his log book (laconically) and diary (rather more more fully) explain:
Log book
Date: 4.6.18
Hour: 10 am
Machine type and No.: RE8
No.: E102
Passenger: Lt. Marsh
Time: 1 hr
Height: 2500
Course: Inspection of line.
Remarks: Engine conked. Crashed at Triezennes (102 written off)
Diary
Tuesday June 4th 1918. RE8. E102.
Went up at 10am with Lt Marsh as observer.
At 11pm [sic, sc. 11am] engine cut out east of St Flories, just over our line, due to inlet valve stuck open.
Managed to make disused aerodrome at Triezennes but found Infantry Battalion on parade.
Turned off into an adjoining field, – standing crops 6 feet high.
Crashed very badly, machine turned complete somersault.
Observer thrown clear, – self buried under debris, succeeded in getting out safely, – sprained shoulder & split lip.
Had lunch with C.O. of the Battalion & returned to Squadron by tender.
The day’s events are shown on this map:
Greg’s first visit to the front, shown on 1:40,000 map (each numbered square is 1,000 yds). Rely to St Floris is ~10 miles (16 km). Click for larger image. Credit: IWM/TNA/GreatWarDigital
The Front Line at St Floris
St Floris, a settlement on the River Lys just to the east of St Venant, was where the British Amusories-Havaskerque-La Motte Line – a line just behind the most forward positions – crossed the canalised river:
St Floris and St Venant from a 1:10,000 scale trench map, revised to 22 June 1918. Each numbered square is 1,000 yds. Click for larger image. Credit: IWM/TNA/GreatWarDigital
At this point, Greg was 10 miles (16 km) from the squadron’s airfield at Rely, and needed somewhere nearer to land. He had 2,500ft of altitude to play with.
Trézennes
Trézennes, also variously spelt as Treizennes and Tresennes, was an airfield just south east of Aire-sur-la-Lys. The admirable Anciens Aerodromes website gives the location of Trézennes aerodrome as 50°37’24″N, 2°25’25″E (here on Google maps).
The airfield was known to 42 Squadron, as the squadron had moved there from Chocques on 9 April 1918 when Operation Michael of the Spring Offensives began:
The squadron’s subsequent move from Trézennes to Rely was on 25 April 1918.
Although from Greg’s description Trézennes airfield had clearly been colonised by the army on 4 June 1918 (even if, as he was later to say, “they had no bloody business being there”) the Imperial War Museum has a couple of aerial photos of Trézennes that pose a bit of a puzzle. They are described as showing the airfield in use by 14 Squadron RNAS (Hadley Page bombers) on 1 June 1918. Here is one of the photos:
It is rather hard to reconcile this description with Greg’s experience three days later. And it is odd that the IWM description should refer to the RNAS when it had ceased to exist on 1 April 1918. Possibly the IWM photographs are mis-dated.
“Standing Crops 6 feet High”
Although 6 ft (1.8 m) may seem implausible for a crop height to modern readers, it is easy to forget that today’s crops of cereals such as wheat and barley are ultra-dwarf varieties. Their forebears of the decades and centuries before the “Green Revolution” of the 1960s were much taller. For example, an ancient Italian variety of wheat (Mirabella) could reportedly grow 84 inches (7 ft, 2.1 m) tall, as reported here. Or, of course, the crop might not have been a cereal but may have been something like sunflowers! So, even allowing for a less than perfectly accurate assessment of its height by Greg, something growing to 6 ft in the field was perfectly feasible.
The Official Casualty Report
The official casualty report bears out Greg’s account of the day. This image is courtesy of Andrew Pentland of the hugely informative www.airhistory.org.uk website:
Casualty report – click for larger image. Credit: Andrew Pentland.
Short report: Pilot and Observer uninjured. Machine left aerodrome 10.0am. R.P.M. dropped to 750 and engine backfiring badly, tried to land on TREIZENNES Aerodrome, found ground covered with troops drilling, turned to the right and had to land in standing crops, turning upside down at 11.0am.
Damage:- All main planes damaged. Fin and rudder damaged. 2 rear upper cross members of fuselage broken. 2 centre section struts broken and all fittings damaged. L.H. joint plate L & M damaged. Fuselage fitting R.H. at top of No 3 strut damaged. Undercarriage damaged. Scarff gun mounting wrecked. L.H. and R.H. magnetos damaged. Magneto platform broken. Camshaft doubtful. Exhaust pipes damaged. Recommended to be struck off charge of No 42 Squadron and transferred to No 1 A.D. for repair.
Recommended to be struck off charge of 1st (Corps) Wing and No 42 Squadron and transferred to No 1 A.D. for repair.
So, a mere three days after E102 had been accepted by 42 Squadron, it was struck off its charge. Not quite a write-off, but certainly a major repair job.
“Pilot and Observer uninjured”
Both Greg and 2nd Lt. Marsh were evidently very lucky on this occasion. It was probably truer to say that Greg was only slightly injured (hurt shoulder, split lip) rather than uninjured. And all his life he had a slightly weepy left eye, as his tear duct became permanently blocked when the bridge of his nose banged on the combing above the dashboard. On that subject, Rob Parsons (Greg’s son-in-law and my stepfather) remembers him saying that when he recovered he tried to get in the same position on another aircraft, but found it impossible to get the whole of his body below the level of the cockpit combing, where he had been trapped.
2nd Lt. Marsh’s luck, however, was to desert him before the month was out.
