Fearless Pierre learns FEAR ...

The morning sun broke through the clouds and greeted the Entente pair of scouts. Again an Englishman and a French man head towards the German lines "a hunting" (see below):

As regular as clockwork the Boche appear, two scouts guarding a two-seater. With battle cries of "Tally-ho" and "Merde" the battle commences (see below): 

The Englishman is fearless and bold (some say too fearless and too bold) diving into the center of the melee without a passing thought to the killing power of modern industrial machinery (obviously a product of the British class based "gentleman's elite" old school system). Pierre meanwhile hatches a cunning survival plan called "come in from the side" (see below):

The Englishman clashed head-to-head with his foe and mutual "greeting cards" (of damage) were exchanged (see blow):

Pierre for all his fancy planning ended up in a similar position as the Yellow Albatross of "Kev" angled across to meet him (see below):

Pierre suffered a far more dangerous outcome. The "rat-a-tat" greeting from the Spandau (courtesy of Killer Kev's Albatross) is met with a resounding metallic ping from deep inside the N17's engine bock, followed by an conflagration of fire, flame and caustic choking smoke. Pierre is left blinded with the Nieuport 17 losing height rapidly and the whole world swirling around the top of his head. Out of control, helpless and with his life flashing before his eyes Pierre fights ingloriously with the controls. The fire fans out and the immediate risk of explosive oblivion seems to have receded.    

Barely managing to level the stricken plane off, the N17 disintegrates upon contact with a small copse of stunted trees, gorse and brush mercifully wet and springy from recent rains. Pierre is flung to a position relative safely amidst the wreckage. The 'Fates' have ordained that this fallen angel to survive once more, even granting him the luxury of falling on the right side of the line. "Nine Lives Pierre" seems to have used a fair few of them up by now. Some five missions to his credit, no kills, but twice 'shot down' and the cruel statistics of war say that the 'third time' usually gets you. Pierre has now earned the right to a "pass" in his commanders eyes to savour a week's respite with Eros in lively Paris, as a stark contrast to his daily dance with Thantos over the Western Front.

A short and not so sweet duel, summed up in a single posting. Still to be continued on Pierre's return from Paris!

Final Parting Shots ... To Be Resumed (WoW WWI Dogfight)

Even in his departure the brave Englishman flying the Sopwith Pup took a parting snapshot at the Yellow Peril (aka 'Kevin the Junker'). The resounding retort back that clattered along his airframe confirmed his conviction that it was really time to scatter while his plane kept together (see below): 

Pierre waves his English comrade off (see below). While his plane was structurally intact (as in over half its hit points intact) and bullets were still in the barrel Pierre still fancied his chances, particularly given his current tactical advantage (almost but not quite "tailing" the Yellow Peril Albatross, see below).

A streaming dog fight ensued as the the chain of scout, scout and two-seater did several circuits of the board (see below). The two-seater was always at a disadvantage being just a tad slower but annoyingly its rear gunner started chalking up odd hits on Pierre's N17. 

Again and again the Yellow Peril remained just out of reach of Pierre, as he never quite gained that "killer position" (see below). Again the Pink Terror's rear gunner is seen waiting patiently for his chance to "pop" Pierre on the return orbit. 

With his ammunition now almost spent and his plane's "rudder and tail" mechanism now rather tattered Pierre calls it a day. Frustratingly his last few shots seem not to have made any impression on the Yellow Peril. Despite both the Sopwith Pup and N17 passing many a damage card to "Junker Kevin" the steely German seemed to be as resolute and combat fit as at the start of play. He must have had nerves of steel? With a gentleman's nod and salute to his German opponent Pierre heads West to find friendlier skies (see below): 

Leaving the German Imperial Air Service in his wake Pierre breaks off contact (see below). The engagement was counted as a tactical draw (one German shot down, one British retired and teeth drawn as Pierre vacates enemy air space). The campaign carries on with the Entente still holding the tactical advantage over this section of the front. Pierre makes a mental note to consult his 'temporary RFC armorer' regarding the ineffectual French machine guns. Was it the sighting mechanism or the bullets at fault surely not crack-shot Pierre's skill?

Further investigation at the airfield (post game examination of the damage packs) reveals Pierre had been using training ammunition 'blanks' (literally a stream of "0" and "minor no left/right turns" cards). Cursing his luck Pierre retires to bed clutching a bottle of cheap cognac while accepting the Englishman's invitation for "morning clay pigeon shooting" the following day.

Pierre take to the "Air" again! (WWI WoW)

Flying with a British formation has its pros and cons. The food is terrible but the alcohol is cheap and plentiful, albeit inferior to the pre-war French cognacs and fine wines. What is this Guinness and Newcastle Brown Ale? My head is still thumping as I take to the air (see below):  

Myself and another hungover Englishman are "Over the Front" and we soon spy the dreaded "Boche" (see below):

We close at an alarming rate, the cold air and adrenaline of combat clearing the head wonderfully (see below). "Rat-a-tat-tat" go my guns but no discernible hits for either side as a dirty yellow Albatross flashed by me:

The melee gets very confusing as Pierre "nine lives" attracts the attention of a garishly coloured Albatross (see below). Where has my English friend gone?

Escaping from the clutches of this new foe I swing my plane around to see my erstwhile yellow Albatross adversary intent on another pass (see below):

By now I have collected some pretty bullets holes in my plane. The question is "how fairs my son of a Junker opponent?" Some may say a better question would be "Where is that Englishman"?

A Cruel Fate for the Harry Tate

End Game: 

Never stand between a hunter and its game. The RE8 found itself as "all that stood between the Hun and glory" and in rather unglamorous fashion was set upon "top and tail" by the two remaining German scouts. Forward and rear machine guns blazing RE8 faced the full force of a Germanic operatic fury with stiff upper lip public school stoicism (see below):

The crowd of players clamoured for the model to replace the card counter. An even more ungainly scene depicting the plight of the RE8 (see below). Damage cards were exchanged ... many to the RE8 and a few in return to the Germanic scouts. 

Then the valiant RE8 was no more, flames billowed from its frame and it plunged earthward, the fate of the crew unknown (see below).

The even odds seemed to now be in the favour the Germans (the best they had all day, evens) but a slight miscommunication between the German scout pilots left one of them open to a 'free' deflection shot from a passing N17. The German scout was not in a good way and even this little trivial nick brought him down (see below). This changed everything.   

The "Yellow Albatross" faced with two N17's and himself low on ammunition decides that discretion is by far the greater part of valour and heads east to rebuild the Jasta. He waves forlornly at his trapped comrades in the fields below as he departs. Once again the pendulum battle in the skies above the trenches 'hangs in the balance'.

To be continued ...

A Furious 'Five Minutes'

The Hun soon scores a revenge kill back as a Sopwith Pup is downed (see below) in a ferocious exchange of machine gun fire with the "Yellow Albatross" (a known killer from the 'Dawn Patrol' that staked Pierre before deciding to break off from the combat). The sides are now four Entente active planes to three Central Powers, still even'ish given the German (over) confidence in their men and their machines:

Pierre slides into the combat zone. Altitude and angles means that he can hit nothing but more importantly nothing can hit him, despite some things looking very close (see below): 

"Kaboom" the RE8 strikes with its front machine guns as the "Pink Terror" is engulfed in a ball of flame. A veteran German crew is lost (KIA). This is quite significant in the "campaign". Meanwhile Pierre goes head-to-head with a German single-seater scout he has trouble identifying (see below - answers on a postcard). Damage is taken by both planes and they continue on as if nothing has happened:

The "Yellow Albatross" chalks up another kill, as yet another nimble RFC Sopwith Pup is 'bagged'. They are dainty little things, beautiful to look at but seemingly not up to the rigours of war against an Albatross armed foe (see below): 

It is now the French in their N17's (two of), and an RFC (damaged) RE8 versus two German scouts in petty good condition (although with the secret damage in WoW you never quite know). One of the German pilots has a ferociously growing reputation and with appetite for Sopwith Pups. How wil he fair on N17's one wonders? The event must be decided soon, with the Germans circling the field where their comrades are sheltering.

Who is so important down there on the ground? So important to risk all these valiant men and machines in such a 'high risk' operation with a small chance of success? I wonder if the brain behind this scheme was in reality addled with schnaps? 

Squadron Sramble !!!

The Crazy Rescue Mission:

The Hun is afoot with mischief. Pierre was barely half way through his late breakfast croissant and 'aperitif' when the distinctive low drum of aircraft engines was heard coming from the East. In the countryside around the Entente airfield troops were out hunting for the "downed" German pilots of the Dawn Patrol's "bag". So unusual for the Germans to come so deep over the Entente lines. Could the crazy Hun be attempting a a bold 'rescue' mission?  Staggering and swaying somewhat Pierre mounted his trusty N17 taking care to taxi a respectful and tactically astute distance away from the 'crazy' RE8 pilot who attracted trouble and mid-air collisions. See below, Pierre is far left, the dangerous RE8 is in the center:

The Hun. Flying low and making for a clearing, out of which a marker flare burns, near the wrecked remains of a German aircraft (see below). Apparently it is possible to "wing-walk" crew over the trench-line! Seeing will be believing ;) 

Given that there was a heavy tactical element of positioning in the first combat of the night (taking three quarters of the playing time) I was amazed at the brutal "up the middle on one" tactics of the Imperial German Air Force. It was as if they had forgotten we carried guns on our planes (see below):

An Albatross makes it clean through the Entente 'fighter' (plus RE8) defensive line (bottom left, model replace by a card for convenience sake) and brutal head-to-head combat take place over on the far right. Pierre is out of camera shot to the far left, trying desperately to get into the action, but the game is literally 'going too fast' for him to catch up with (see below). Will the Germans sweep in and rescue their comrades in under our very noses?

The eagle-eyed gunner of the RE8 has other ideas and the bloody cull starts, first blood to the Entente as the Albatross (and the brave and crafty pilot Kevin) falls to a 'lucky shot' (see below):

Pierre adjusts his goggles and swings his N17 in a graceful arc into the heart of the combat.

The Hun breaks and makes a run for home

Combat Finale:

The combat takes a turn for the worst for the RFC, a bloody splash of flame and a Sopwith Pup spirals earthward (see below):

Off camera the pilot of the "Pink Terror" decides to bug-out, his plane barely flyable, but he loses all experience from the mission. Meanwhile the most unlikeliest of RFC heroes, the RE8, comes to the rescue tailing a German scout hunting N17. In fact the picture below shoes a string of consecutive "chasers" RE8 to German Scout to N17 to Albatross (see below): 

"Ye gads" the RE8 has bagged (another) Hun (see below):

Nursing a still smoking N17 Pierre maneuvers head-to-head for another machine gun to machine gun duel (see below). However outnumbered three (of which two are the terrible N17's) to two the Boche Albatrosses now think better of it and the Hun duo scoot "doing a runner".

In doing so the Entente break an embarrassing series of Imperial German Air Service wins (having scored two planes two 'downed' to one in return - the 'Pink Terrors' bunk counting the same as a down as it crash landed behind Entente lines) and brings about a strategic shift in the air power above the trenches. The Germans are only deemed to have a 'marginal advantage' and what is more have two of their most experienced air-crew about to become POW's.

The champagne corks start popping at the RFC mess with the French pilots and their N17's being toasted as "putting the wind up the Huns" when all of a sudden the alarm bell rings ...

To be continued ...

Where is the Hun? Answer: Behind you! Two German scouts fall upon the French N17's, nearly but not quite in machine gun range, but they have the advantage.

Well at least we are getting to use the "tailing" rules, though it's not very nice being tailed (see below). Luckily for the Frenchies we are at a sufficient altitude different not quite to reach:

Pierre La Flanne performs a twisting "Immelman" to reverse course and go head-to-head with his antagonist Albatross DIII. Luckily the German plays "an invalid sequence of cards" which have to be revoked and translated into "go straight" (see below):    

A game of 'chicken' ensues, accompanied to the staccato chatter of machine guns. The Albatross pilot noticeably winces taking his damage cards while Pierre is astonished to see his fuselage become look like a sieve but yet still fly (see below):    

Pierre thanks his lucky stars and breaks into a wry smile, but then his blood freezes as evil dark smoke issues forth from his engine ... would this smoke suddenly break into a deadly fire (see below)? The only good news was that the Albatross hunting Pierre was being hunted himself (see below a Sopwith Pup in the top right of the picture):

Where can Pierre run to? Where is that big, fat friendly RE8 with a lovely rear gunner in it when you need it?

The Dance of Death Whirls in the Skies

Contact!

Pierre Le Flanne stares the infamous "Pink Terror" in the face and like a mad French Gascon of old charges blindly at his enemy. The chatter of his machine guns turning the evil German grin into a Munch-like visage of a scream as cards were unexpectedly handed to him from the "A" deck (a nastier place to get them from than the usual "B"). This Boche had not tangled with a Nieuport 17 before (see below). The N17 has two guns. Hits were scored on both planes and on they flew past each other. The German chortled as Pierre was now at the mercy of the Hun's rear gunner a renown marksman. Ominously the Spandau clicked at the ready, the next 'round' would be a German one at the back of Le Flanne's head.    

To the right a Sopwith Pup (yes please ignore the third wing) takes on a Albatross DIII at long range (see below). Putter, putter and exchange of greeting's cards but no "visible" damage. One of the joys of the WoW game is the uncertainty of not knowing what has exactly been "done" to the enemy. Somebody can accrue a lots of 'damage cards' but actually take little or no damage. Likewise, you can be unlucky enough to pick up just one single stray bullet from an odd, unexpected angle and explode! Cruel, cruel fate!  

To the left of Pierre a mirror dogfight exchange takes place, another Albatross DII and another Sopwith Pup (this time with the correct number of wings) exchange their officers greeting cards (see below). The only thing to note was that the German pilot was called Kevin which I thought was somehow quite cute, "Kevin the Junker" minor nobility no doubt. Apparently there's a lot of it about (as in nobility) on the Western Front in 1916. (They are mostly dead by 1918.)

To be honest Pierre was not looking forward to the next round as two Germans were literally gunning for him, but as his luck (of the devil) would have it Pierre found himself in the "blind spot" of the "Pink Terror's" rear gunners arc (see below). Oh, how the German howled in range at the umpire at the unfairness of it all. Tough. Even better the Albatross also had misjudged his firing angle and was also "out of arc". Yippee! Trouble was that depending on what the next card (Note: players choose three movement cards in advance) the Albatross had selected, the Jerry could well end up on Le Flanne's tail (see below) and thus allow himself a subtle card selection advantage. The most oft quoted remark in WoW is that you always hate your third card as it invariably ends up being worst choice for the given situation. Some people literally chose at random. You never expect that the most sensible move would be ... "x". Pierre also didn't like the thought of being too near that lumbering great big RE8 that had showed up. To be fair it was hitting the German planes. Note: Another N17 model has been replaced by its card and is sitting underneath the "Pink Terror" at a different altitude. Yes the air-space is getting quite congested (see below).

The situation after the next move (see below). "Hell's Teeth" that RE8 does like to come close in by to the friendly Scout pilots. There is 80% of the Entente's airborne assets stuck inside a six inch by six inch playing area. The N17's take special care to be at a different altitude of the RE8 by climbing as fast as they can.

But where is the Hun? (That's not a good sign!)

Pierre Le Flanne takes to the Air: WoW WWI

Dawn Patrol: The Sortie Starts

Pierre Le Flanne breathed in the crisp morning air. Taking off in the dawn light was invigorating as ever. Today was unusual as for the first time he flew in a mixed Entente formation. The British losses had been so crippling recently that the RFC had appealed for French assistance. To answer this call a flight of Nieuport 17's had arrived at a ramshackle Flemish field and were now heading to meet their reciprocal Boche "Dawn Patrol". Pierre's N17 took starboard station off a RNAS Sopwith Pup (See below: Note ignore the extra wing in the photo below, we "imagine" when we don't have the exact 'match' in planes)  

A peculiar addition to the four Scouts was an RE8, referred to as the "Blooming Big Gun Bus" whose aggressive spirit has earned its praise both sides of the lines (see below). The crew likes mixing it with the fighter pilots despite the cumbersome attitude of the plane. Rumour has it that the twin-seater fighter plane is the future but Pierre likes to live in the singe-seat present. 

The aggressive spirit is admirable but good navigation is also a valuable survival trait. The RE8 in the opening moves found itself at the same altitude and veering into the path of one of Pierre's N17 comrades. Clear thinking is required to avoid a tragic mistake, pity about the distraction of these German fellows who made an appearance (see below). Three single-seaters (at least two Albatross DIII's) and the infamous "Pink Terror" a Roland "Whaleback" I am told.

"Gawd Forbid" the English RE8 has mounted the French N17! Crunch rip, tearing fabric and ensnared air-frames. The five to four advantage looks like soon to be turning to a three to four disadvantage! The Entente players look on in horror. Mid-air collisions were a part-and-parcel danger to daily front line flying. Without being a simulation exercise this is becoming statistically too realistic an experience (see below).

The "rending" continues, more damage are accumulated. Instead of a quick kiss it was more of a long embrace (see below) as the 'lovers' do not wish to be parted. 

But part they do still in some form of flying shape (I think).

My attention was taken at this time by a different matter. That of combat with the "Pink Terror". One advantage the N17 has over the Sopwith Pup is that it carries "two" machine guns. One firing through the propeller mounted on the top of the engine cowling, the other lighter beast from atop the upper wing strut. This pilot of the "Pink Terror" was slightly taken aback by this .. "Bon"!

Jacques takes to the air: Wings of War

It came as a bit of much needed light relief to just pop into the "club" and take to the air in a fabulous French flying machine for a one-off night of Wings of War, a WWI dogfighting game of minimal fuss and maximum fun. I unwrapped the cards for my whimsical Nieuport 17 (the only one of my collection I had not yet tested in combat), flying solo rather than as part of a Escadrille "Jacques" searched for the Hun. The game was well underway so I just joined in by setting up in a what I thought was a patch of clear blue sky and tried to remember how to "fly" again (see below).

No sooner was I airborne than a buzzing sensation around my eardrum meant that the Boche had found me. A stubby little Pfalz III with "grinning devil" pilot was gunning for me. I ducked and weaved but the "Hun from the Sun" had me dead in his sights. Drawing the requisite damage cards first one for his long range pop, then two more for his shorter range pop (with the dreadful salad dressing  of +1 additional damage for a successful follow on shot) I wondered if it was going to be my shortest ever game (see below for the German's perspective, how could he surely miss?).

But behold, I had the luck of the devil himself as all three cards were zero damage and even better a strange symbol meant the "grinning devil's" guns had jammed! My name was now "Lucky Jacques". With fists clenched in rage (lyric nicked from American Pie) the Hun swerved away as a friendly RFC SE5a swooned in after him. Laughing like a madman, I turned and nearly crashed into a Sqad flown by "Hat in the Ring" Rickenbacker (US) himself. With friends like that who needs the Hun? Nearing the "edge of the world" I practised an immaculate Imelman which meant that I had an unexpected head-on with a equally astonished German flying "something white with stripes". What the alarmed German saw of me is shown below.

It all became a bit of a blur as the short-range exchange gave me a new central parting and an aeroplane full of holes that could not turn right for three turns. I saw holes appear in his fabric, but he flew on. Off in the distance there was a bright ball of flames denoting the demise of the Pfalz III at the hands of the rampaging SE5a. As I finally righted my crippled plane I saw with some satisfaction my "something white with stripes" nemesis disintegrate at the hands of that unstoppable SE5a (again, I think that was number three for the night). For me it was time to go home as I had less than half a plane left, I was badly in need of a glass or red wine and the satin sheets of a "feme fatale" .. ""vive la France".