FlyPast 08.2018

(lu) #1

OVER THE TRENCHES MONS


“I was told to hang on to an Avro that was threatening to take off backwards. I


hung on grimly, suffi cient to persuade it to remain a serviceable aeroplane”


That night, however, things got
lively again. We left at 9pm to arrive
at Serris, to the east of the capital,
at 3pm. According to rumour, there
were no British troops between us
and the Germans.
The RFC built defensive positions
around the landing ground and ‘A’
Squadron of the North Irish Horse
came up to fight a rearguard action
if necessary until the aeroplanes
could be flown away, which they
were before dawn. [Maurice
Farman Long Horn 356 of 5
Squadron was abandoned, as it was
unable to take-off.]
As we got a ‘visit’ from a German
machine at Serris, several of our
aeroplanes went in pursuit but
with little chance of catching it.
A Sopwith Tabloid piloted by Lt
Norman Spratt went after the
enemy, but unfortunately [the
Tabloid] turned on its back when
landing. [Spratt survived and went
on to serve as a group captain in
World War Two, but died in 1944].
Our stay at Serris was the
usual two days. We left during
the morning of September 3
and arrived at Pézarche around
3.30pm. Some of us by now had
been issued with rifles and when
a German Taube flew over us we
stopped and took a few pot shots
at it. Needless to say our hostility
appeared to go entirely unnoticed.
At Pézarche, we sustained
our only casualty amongst the
squadron ground personnel.
During the numerous alarms
caused by marauding Uhlans one
man picked up a loaded revolver
and clicked the trigger, shooting
another man in the thigh.


On September 4, we left at
2.30pm and arrived at Melun
about 5.30pm, and the retreat had
ended. We were once more on a
recognised flying ground with the
facilities that go with such an area.

Bully beef and
biscuits
As I been graded an instrument
repairer, I was as a consequence
called to any machine requiring
attention. There were hangars of
sorts at Melun and during the night
there was a terrific thunderstorm
and the transport vehicles began
to sink into the softened earth.
I have so far spoken only of
our movements, work, etc,
during those early days; I have
not mentioned the way we lived.
Whenever we were on the move we
had to rely on ‘bully beef’ [tinned,
salt-cured beef] and biscuits. The
biscuits were hard and packed in
airtight tins – one tin opened was
dated 1881.
During the retreat we sometimes
got fried bacon for breakfast.
We usually got our cups of tea,
morning and evening thanks to
the cooks.
When we got the chance to sleep
at nights we did so where we could,
often under lorries or in the open.
One great problem was washing. I
went three days without a wash on
one occasion and was 13th to wash
in a single bucket of water.
However we saw enough to
know that our problems were
negligible compared with those of
the infantry.
The main roads in France
at that time were paved with

cobblestones and were very dusty,
so each vehicle caught the dust
and the exhaust fumes from the
one in front.
It had been fine and very warm
for the first fortnight in France
but soon after starting the retreat
we got heavy rain. Bad weather
was a real hazard to aeroplanes.
Great credit must go to pilots for
the way they did reconnaissance
from one landing ground and
found a new one to land on
without breaking their machines.
It showed considerable skill and
determination.
When the aeroplanes landed at
Saint-Quentin the weather was fine
but the next move, to La Fère, had
to be flown in mist and drizzle with
the result that only two, one flown
by Major Higgins, alighted on the
correct landing ground.
Throughout the time we had
been in France the aeroplanes had
had to be housed in the open in
all weathers, with the result that
the fabric-covered wings became
soggy, lost their tautness and
therefore much of their lift.
So ‘B’ Flight, 5 Squadron, was
sent to Étampes on September 6 to
overhaul their machines. In effect
this meant changing many of the
main components. We had a very
busy time from dawn to dusk.
We left Étampes on the 11th,
though the Crossley light tender
with Flt Sgt ‘Dan’ Goodchild, 1st
Air Mechanic (AM) ‘Bob’ Foley and
the driver, 2nd AM Chilton lost its
way and finished up over German
lines. They entered captivity and
remained prisoners until the end
of the war.

Miracle on the
Marne
In the meantime, on September 6,
the French offensive at the Battle
of the Marne had begun and the
Germans were compelled to pull
back. The BEF took part but played
a minor role. Its resistance to the
German advance gave the French
the time and the opportunity to
organise their armies and so make
the victory possible.
We crossed a large river – which
I think must have been the Seine
at Melun – by a pontoon bridge
as we headed east, conscious
that we were advancing and not
retreating. We caught up with the
squadrons late at night and in
pouring rain at Coulommiers,
east of Paris.
Next morning at about 10.30am
we left and later arrived at the
village of Saponay, near Fère-en-
Tardenois. This was to be our home
for nearly four weeks.
We were told we could sleep in
a barn where there was a lot of
straw, a luxury to us at the time. I
had not been asleep long before
I was rudely awakened with the
order: “Turn out everybody. The
machines are blowing away!”
Being one of the first on the
landing ground I was grabbed
by the Technical
Sergeant Major and
told to hang on to an
Avro that was threatening
to take off backwards. I
hung on grimly, sufficient
to persuade it to remain a
serviceable aeroplane. Other
men came up to secure
the remaining

Right
Maurice Farm Longhorn, a type operated by 5
Squadron. 5 SQUADRON RECORDS


42 FLYPAST August 2018

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