DEPUTY FLIGHT COMMANDER
June 1917 now entered its second week. Mannock had survived his first weeks in combat and had overcome the feeling from some of his fellow pilots that he was reluctant to engage the enemy. Not only had he survived but he had now been made acting deputy flight leader. Bloody April had passed, the RFC’s worst month for casualties, and then May, and while his successes in combat were small, it is necessary to make clear that not every fighter pilot was knocking down opponents at the drop of a hat. While the best way to bring down an opponent was to try and sneak up on them, and open fire before they were aware of any danger, this did not happen that often. Most air fights were the result of two groups of aircraft engaging in an action and the resultant dog-fight, more often than not, ended in stalemate, each side eventually breaking off and going home. A claim or two might be made, more in hope than any real sense of victory, but these so called ‘victories’ were generally a pilot putting his aircraft into a spin earthwards and hoping the opposing pilot who was starting to get an edge over him, did not follow him down.
In 1917 the RFC fighter pilots were led either by good or indifferent leaders. Most engaged enemy formations, in a fashion a future generation would term ‘balls out, hair on fire!’ In other words, find your enemy and dive headlong at him. Some of the better flight leaders managed to instil flight discipline into their men and for them only to attack on their signal, having hopefully had some moments to figure out the best way of engaging opponents. Rudimentary tactics were being taught, but these tactics were only as good as any given situation allowed.
The Germans had a better system developed by their Jagdstaffel formations. It did not take long for each Jasta to select a pilot to lead in the air who seemed to have a better feel for the job in hand, and have the necessary skill to hit with his machine-gun fire, the aeroplane he was aiming at. This might seem to the layman a very basic matter, but even good pilots often failed when it came to air-to-air gunnery. Once a German pilot began to down the opposition, he became leader, whatever rank he might hold, and supported by the others, would front an attack and have first crack at a target, before the general mêlée began. More often than not, this would result in at least one kill by this leader, as he was able to concentrate on his attack knowing that his back was protected by the other pilots.
High-scoring pilots such as Baron Manfred von Richthofen, leader of Jasta 11, and soon to become leader of four Jastas (4, 6, 10 and 11) under the heading of Jagdgeschwader Nr.I, used this tactic with much success. Studying Jasta records one can see who these successful leaders in the air were by their scores, being often in double figures, while the rest of the Jasta pilots had scores in ones or twos.
In the RFC and RNAS, pilots with high scores might well be leaders as well but generally they achieved their scores by gaining sufficient experience of air fighting to survive and down opponents, although a number were brought down themselves once a dog-fight began, and everyone tended to look after himself. New pilots in the main had to fend for themselves, and quite often were quickly picked off. An experienced German pilot could spot the novice by the way he handled his aeroplane, or because he opened fire much too soon. The experienced pilot flew with much more confidence, and rarely opened fire until he had got in close, and then only in short bursts. Everything had to be learnt the hard way. However much an experienced pilot tried to instruct a newcomer how to perform and what to do, only by experiencing combat and hopefully surviving his first few encounters could he hope to survive for any period of time.
Mannock slowly learnt how to survive in the air. How to spot enemy aircraft quickly, preferably before their pilots saw him. To manoeuvre his aircraft in combat, while at the same time, judge firing distances and accurate deflection shooting. It was far easier to get oneself shot down than to survive, but Mannock had survived for several weeks, during a period some like to say pilots on the Western Front could only expect to live two or three weeks at most. By this fact alone he must have been above average, and if he could survive a little longer, he might prove to be useful.
Two days after his second victory, Mannock got into a fight with five enemy aircraft in a formation, plus another singleton – three scouts and three two-seaters. He was on an Offensive Patrol at around 8.15 in the evening of the 9th, near Douai. Spotting an enemy formation north of Douai he engaged two of them, loosing off one drum from his Lewis gun. He saw some hits on one but without effect. As he pulled away from this attack, he spotted an Albatros DIII spinning down following an attack by Billy Bond. It was Bond’s fifth and final victory.
Mannock soldiered on for another week but on the 17th he had his first period of leave. The preceding days, as he recorded in his diary, had been fairly easy, allowing him some time on the aerial range (gunnery).
He also suffered with a small piece of grit in one eye and it was so painful that he had a job landing. Having been taken into the Mess he promptly fainted. Transferring to hospital the doctor injected some cocaine into him before getting the offending piece of grit out. Then on the 14th he suffered the same fate again. This seems to suggest he was not wearing goggles, but one assumes that after these two alarming events, he did begin to use them.
Mannock also collected yet another machine from St Omer and had a race with one of the new Sopwith Camel fighters beginning to make an appearance in France. He was beaten and was immediately impressed with the Camel’s performance. His eye was still giving him a problem though, and on seeing the doctor again, the medic gave him another injection and extracted yet another piece of grit. Then came his leave, and he was quickly off to England.
His leave did not prove a happy time. His mother he found was starting to drink more heavily than she had done before and instead of helping him to relax, he became fed up with her insistence that he send her more money. Brother Paddy, now in the army, could not send her much and his sisters were both having marital problems. He managed a visit to Hanworth aerodrome where he was able to take a look at some new aeroplanes, and was then quite happy to leave London and travel up to Wellingborough and to visit the Eyles. He apparently said to Jim Eyles that knowing his age was rather against him in air fighting, he thought the best course of action was to develop some useful tactics, using brains rather than brawn. He had been thinking a good deal about how to do new things rather than accept the old ways of doing them. ‘You watch me bowl them over when I return!’ he had said.
Back in London he stayed at the RFC Club, in Bruton Street, a road that ran from Berkeley Square to New Bond Street. A rather boisterous party ended in much broken furniture that he and other incumbents had to pay for.
After a month in England, Mannock returned to the Squadron. In war there are constant changes in operational squadrons and he found several when he got back. Ian Patrick Robert Napier was now a flight commander. ‘Old Naps’ as he was known, though not because of his age, had arrived at about the same time as Mannock and like Mannock had just two confirmed victories! This Etonian had earlier been with the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders. His French was excellent and from time to time he was whisked away to be attached to the French 1st Army as a liaison officer, for which he would later receive the Croix de Guerre and the Légion d’Honneur. He remained with 40 Squadron into the summer of 1918 and won the Military Cross.
Captain Keen and A E ‘Steve’ Godfrey had by now both been awarded the Military Cross. Keen now had six victories, while Godfrey’s score had reached eight. Two of Mannock’s pals, Blaxland and Walder had returned to England, and Billy Bond had received a Bar to his MC. The Squadron had even had the pleasure of a visit from the King whilst he was away.
On the downside, G Davis had been lost – on 14 July – ending up as a prisoner, having been brought down by Erwin Böhme. Godfrey Davis had been part of a patrol consisting of Second Lieutenants G L Lloyd, H B Redler, H A Kennedy and W Maclanachan. East of Douai they had run into Jasta 12, six below and four above. In the fight that followed, Davis’s Nieuport 17 (A6783) was hit and he was made to make a forced landing in German territory. Böhme reported going after two more Nieuports (Redler and Maclanachan) chasing them back to the lines, Mac’s gun having jammed after six rounds. Davis was the German ace’s 13th victory. He had only been with 40 Squadron for a month.
Mannock’s good friend in 40 Squadron was Mac Maclanachan.
Maclanachan had been slightly injured in a near collision just before Mannock’s return, so it was in hospital that the two men were reunited, but Mac was not seriously hurt. He had been on a late show and landed back after dark. The Squadron’s brigade leader, the youthful 31-year-old, Brigadier-General G S Shepherd DSO MC, who often flew missions despite his rank and position, had been out too, but when he landed a few minutes earlier his engine had packed up and he was left stranded in the middle of a darkened airfield. Maclanachan saw the Nieuport at the last moment, kicked right rudder, dug in a wing and went up on his nose – damaging the propeller – before falling back.
Maclanachan’s Nieuport Scout B3607 which he named ‘The Silver Lady’. Mac wrote on this picture: ‘A perfect lady, my only love.’ Mannock also flew this machine in September 1917 gaining his last victory with 40 Squadron on the 25th.
The Squadron lost Captain C L Bath through illness, and Bill Bond took over the Flight, but he was not to last long. Bond was on leave and returned to take over in his new job.
On the 12th, Mannock scored his third and certain victory. He was on a morning OP to Avion, although there is also reference to him being sent off to deal with hostile aircraft at 09.50 whilst engaged in writing letters home. At 10.10 am, south-east of Lens he had spotted two German machines, Mannock flying south-east, gaining height so as to approach from the east. At 11,000 feet over Avion he made his move. Diving down, he opened fire and emptied a drum from some 25 yards range and immediately observed the two-seater start to go down out of control. Mannock, having taken a quick look round, followed to 7,000 feet, seeing the German aircraft make a crash-landing, ending upside-down. He noted the exact spot (Sheet 36c.1 – N 32.d.8.6) which as it happens was inside the British lines.
Having fallen in Allied territory, it was easy to identify the occupants and later, the unit to which they belonged. The pilot, Vizefeldwebel Reubelt, was badly injured and is reported to have died of his injuries, although his name is not listed as such, so he may have become a prisoner. There is a British record, however, of a Willi Reubelt whose date of death is given as 1 January 1918. Was this the same man who survived five months before dying? The problem here is that Mannock noted in his diary of ‘… the dead and mangled body of the pilot …’
Reubelt’s observer, Vizefeldwebel Hermann Johann Böttcher, was wounded and definitely taken into captivity. He eventually ended up in Pattishall prisoner of war camp, near Northampton, and given the PoW number 13038. The machine was a DFW CV, its unit being Schusta (Schutzstaffel) 12 – based at Faumont – a unit that usually flew escort missions for FA211(A), an artillery observation unit. RFC HQ gave ‘G’ numbers to enemy aircraft that came down in their lines, and this DFW was given G52.
Being within reach, Mannock and others drove to the spot. He managed to collect a few souvenirs although by this time the local soldiers had had first pick of anything worth having. The machine was a complete wreck and in the observer’s cockpit he found a dead black and tan terrier, which upset him more than the injuries that he had inflicted on the two crewmen.
Mannock had been flying Nieuport 23 B1682 which he had flown from 1 AD on 12 June. On the squadron it was marked with the number ‘6’. Lieutenant L G Blaxland had claimed a victory in it on 25 June, then Mannock gained two more. Captain W G Pender was killed flying it on 15 August.
Maclanachan, who had joined 40 Squadron in May, claimed his first victory on 12 July also, another two-seater which he sent spinning down shortly after mid-day. It had taken him two months to score, but there was no suggestion that he was ‘slow in coming forward’. Mac had quickly become friends with Mannock. At an early stage Mac had found that a walk with Mannock after dinner made him seem vivid and alive. Mannock was able to speak about other matters than air-fighting and such like. Mac liked his enquiring nature and saw him as one who had the time and equanimity to consider the value of ideals and beliefs in the midst of war. Mac surmised that due to his humble upbringing he appeared to have something of a loneliness about him and therefore welcomed the companionship of a stranger.
On the 13th Mannock scored again. It was another two-seater DFW at 0920 am east of Sallaumines. On a patrol looking for hostile aircraft, they were almost 15,000 feet when they spotted three two-seaters, plus two single-seaters a little further east and higher up. Mannock dived on one of the two-seaters and fired a full drum load of ammunition at it while he closed to 25 yards range. He could see quite clearly his bullets striking the German which began to fall away out of control, but Mannock was unable to watch further as he was then engaged by the other enemy machines. His last view was of it side-slipping and then turning completely upside-down as it fell towards the ground.
He was credited with an ‘out of control’ victory near Billy-Montigny. Possibly it was an artillery observation machine from Flieger-Abteilung (A) 240, who had a machine shot-up and its observer, Leutnant Heinz Walkermann, wounded. Within an hour Mannock was above another two-seater but held his fire too long and suddenly had to bank away to avoid colliding with it. Although he turned for it again, and fired 40-50 rounds into it, the German kept going towards Douai.
Next morning he tried to repeat these successes and while he did manage to get above yet another two-seater, a tappet rod in his engine broke, which ripped off the engine cowling and forced him to glide down from 15,000 feet. Despite having no engine, his glide brought him to safety although in landing in a field of tall wheat his aircraft turned over, but he scrambled clear unharmed. On the evening of the 19th he almost shot down a British machine south of Lens. It was being fired upon by British AA gunners and this, together with the darkening sky making it difficult to see the machine’s markings led him to attack, but luckily he was not on target and no damage was inflicted.
On the morning of the 20th, flying with Keen leading, the patrol began a scrap with three enemy fighters, in which, as Mannock related, were three of the finest Hun pilots he ever wished to meet. The fight lasted ten minutes and despite the odds of two to one, the British flyers were unable to get in a telling hit.
Mannock was now awarded the Military Cross. He heard officially on the 19th. When the telephone message arrived he was out on patrol, the call being taken by W R Andrews, one of the administration staff with 40 Squadron. Andrews went off to find him only to discover he was on patrol, so he sent Corporal Godfrey off to the hangars to await his return. Maclanachan was there, read the corporal’s message then dashed to Mannock’s sleeping quarters to locate his friend’s spare uniform jacket. He arranged for the white and mauve MC ribbon to be sewn below the pilots’ wings, then left the jacket on the back of the door. Upon his return, Mannock found the tunic which was his first intimation that he had been so honoured.
Bill Bond MC &Bar was killed on 22 July, less than a month after his 28th birthday. He was well liked on the Squadron and had joined the RFC from the King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry. Leading his flight on the first OP of the day, his Nieuport was blown apart from a direct hit by an anti-aircraft shell over Sallaumines. His wife Aimee wrote a wonderful book about her husband, from recollections and letters. [1]
Mick Mannock’s last engagement of July 1917 came on the 28th, east of Lens at 09.30, on another patrol chasing enemy machines. He first observed a two-seater low down, then engaged seven variously coloured Albatros Scouts. He selected one that he described as being purple in colour, with white crosses on its fuselage, swept back wing tips and a fish tail. This would have been an Albatros DV, an improved version of the DIII. Firing approximately 50 rounds from close range, he saw hits but then his Aldis gun-sight fogged up completely and with a broken stay-bolt on the sight’s fixing, his aim became inaccurate. The Albatros peeled off east and was attacked by another Nieuport. The fight broke up and the German fighters drew away to the east while losing height.
These machines were from Jasta 12, led by Eduard von Tutschek, and it had been this German ace whom Mannock had fired at. In fact von Tutschek’s machine was black, not purple. The black dope on Albatros machines tended to fade slightly and took on a purplish hue, which combined with the green and mauve camouflage on the upper surfaces of the wings, tended to give an overall purplish colouring. The black colouring also tended to accentuate the white edging to the fuselage crosses, and no doubt Mannock’s description of ‘white’ crosses, was really describing this.
The British patrol was by three Nieuports, Tudhope and Kennedy accompanying Mannock this morning. The dog-fight had started soon after the three British machines had crossed the lines, the three pilots fighting a brilliant defensive battle against the seven Germans. Mannock later confessed to Maclanachan that he had never been so frightened in a scrap before. While there were no losses on either side, von Tutschek did claim a victory, against Tudhope’s machine (B1558). However, he got back, despite his machine being shot to pieces. As so often happened, the desire to bring down an opponent, and then seeing one falling towards the ground, makes the eyes see what the heart wants to see, and von Tutscheck had fallen into this trap. Some of his pilots had obviously seen Tudhope start to go down and as he went down over the lines into the British area, any observers on the ground would also confirm the fall, thus the German ace had his 20th ‘victory’ confirmed.
John Henry Tudhope had yet to open his account against the Germans but would eventually claim ten victories and win the MC and Bar with the Squadron.
During the afternoon of 5 August Mannock scored again, another ‘out of control’ type victory. Again the locality was Avion, while out looking for enemy aircraft that had been reported over the lines. The patrol spotted five Albatros Scouts (also referred to by RFC pilots as V-Strutters, due to the machine’s V-shaped wing struts) east of Lens. Mannock manoeuvred the patrol into a good position and engaged them over the Drocourt line, south of Hènin Liétard.
Mannock fired almost a complete drum from under 100 yards range and saw hits. The Albatros he had selected for attention turned upside-down and went spinning down but with other enemy aircraft whirling about him he was unable to watch its fall for long. Mannock then picked on another Albatros directly over Lens – and like a week earlier, described it as ‘purple’ in colour. He scrapped with this one for over ten minutes at 10,000 feet above Avion, emptying the drum at it at close range with no visible effect. Another German slid in behind Mannock’s Nieuport forcing him to break off. He also had to change the empty drum for a new one, and by the time he had done this, the German machines were heading off east.
Were these again the black machines of Jasta 12, and was his second opponent von Tutschek again? Might well have been. Back at base, Maclanachan and Tudhope reported seeing the first Albatros going down ‘out of control’, thereby confirming the victory. The fight had lasted from around 4 pm to 4.10pm, and while Jasta 12 did lose a pilot, the loss occurred much later in the day.
Jasta 12 had become part of Jagdgruppe 4 within the German 6th Army the previous day, a temporary grouping under von Tutschek’s command. In addition to his own Jasta, it included Jastas 30 and 37. Von Tutschek now sported the blue and gold Pour le Mérite at his throat, having been awarded this highly prized decoration on the 3rd. A week later he was badly wounded by Charles Booker of 8 Naval Squadron, who was flying a Sopwith Triplane, after gaining his 22nd and 23rd victories that same day. He would return in 1918 and run his score to 27 before falling to Herbert Redler on 15 March. Redler, of course, was a pal of Mannock in 40 Squadron, but by March 1918 he had become a flight commander with 24 Squadron flying SE5s.
Mannock was still flying B3554 (type 23) which Redler had collected from 2 AD on 22 July. He was to claim five victories with it before it was damaged on 20 August. Once repaired it too ended its days in Egypt.
The Squadron were involved in another mammoth ‘balloon strafe’ on 9 August. Maclanachan had just returned to his hut after the evening meal, when Mannock and Bob Hall entered. Mannock, according to Mac, took up a comfortable position against the door post and said:
‘You’re for the high jump tomorrow.’
‘How?’ I asked. Mannock and Hall looked at each other devilishly, trying to increase Maclanachan’s suspense.
‘What the devil do you mean?’ demanded Mac again.
‘It’s quite true, Mac,’ said Hall, ‘There’s a balloon strafe tomorrow.’
‘Keep as close to the ground as you jolly well can – five feet if you can manage it. Don’t get rattled and fire back if you spot a machine gun emplacement. When you get to the balloon have a good look round to see where the machine guns and ‘flaming onion’ batteries are, and for God’s sake mind the telephone wires both on their side and ours.’ Hall then told Mac to keep all this to himself in case it disturb their night’s sleep. Then Mannock added:
‘It won’t worry old Mac,’ then turning again to Maclanachan said, ‘I promise you I’ll count every bullet hole when you get back.’
On the 9th everyone seemed to congregate at Mazingarbe (40 Squadron’s advanced landing ground (ALG)) to watch the ‘volunteers’ – Mac (B1693), Tudhope (B1558), Harrison (A6774), Barlow (B1670) and Herbert (A6771) – go off at 09.30. A loose escort of Mannock (B3554), Captain W G Pender (B1682), Hall (A6733), G B Crole (A6793), Kennedy (B3473) and Godfrey (B1684), also went off at 09.30.
The strafers had the option of heading over in corridors created by a barrage put up by the artillery or to wait until it lifted. Mac decided to wait, but the other four wanted to go with the cover of artillery fire. As he stood by his Nieuport, he chatted with Mannock, Hall and Steve Godfrey. Then he was off, and as he did so saw the balloon assigned to Herbert erupt in flames. In less than a minute he was across the lines and surrounded by machine-gun and rifle fire, zipping across at less than 15 feet.
Mac spotted Harrison, apparently lost, and he pointed a balloon out to him and flew on towards one he had not been aware was there and made for it, right on the deck. The other balloons were being hauled down rapidly, and then he saw soldiers led by some mounted officers directly ahead, coming down a road. Mac zoomed and then dropped over them, the horses scattering with fear, with several of their riders falling off. Then he was heading right for the balloon which was almost down.
Pilots of 40 Squadron. Mannock is at rear. In front are Herbert Redler, Lionel Blaxland, John Barlow and Ian Napier. Bruay, June 1917.
He watched as his Buckingham incendiary ammunition streaked into the gasbag but no flame resulted. Again surrounded by ground fire, Mac circled quickly and came in again, emptying his drum of bullets. In order to attack again, he had to clench the stick between his knees to change the drum – and all at less than 200 feet. As he approached for a third run, he could see the balloon looking decidedly limp, but again no flames came from it, so not wanting to waste more bullets, he went for the ‘extra’ balloon, now down to 200 feet. Firing the rest of his second drum, again without flames erupting, he headed for home.
Landing back at Bruay, Maclanachan began to make his way to the Mess for a cooling drink. Along with Hall, Godfrey and Tudhope, the four of them met Mannock.
Captain I P R Napier MC Ld’H CdG, 40 Squadron.
‘What do you think?’ he said, pointing an accusing finger at Mac, ‘that blighter has only got one bullet hole in his machine – in the tail plane.’ Apparently Kennedy and Harrison’s Nieuports had both been badly shot about and Herbert too had collected a few holes and tears. Tudhope had had the worst damage, with lots of holes and yards of German telephone wire round his propeller boss, and one of his prop blades had been split. However, four balloons were credited as destroyed, although Sergeant Herbert’s was the only one seen burning, the others were left smoking and deflating. Meantime, the escort claimed one Albatros Scout driven down, while Keen had found and drove down a DFW two-seater which he left smoking.
The Squadron, unlike most of the others in France, had started to operate from this ALG, situated on a small field near Mazingarbe, just behind the front lines, situated half way between Béthune and Lens. It is perhaps four to five miles east of Bruay. This forward position had been set up so pilots could wait at ‘readiness’ and be ‘scrambled’ and in the air at a moment’s notice, and thus be able to intercept hostile aircraft that much sooner. As these reported hostile machines would mostly be flying much lower than German aircraft seen high over their own territory – either heading for the British balloon lines, or about to ground strafe the trenches – there was less need to gain precious height before coming into contact. Maclanachan, in yet another of his many ‘McScotch’ articles wrote of ‘Mazingarbe and Mannock’ in Popular Flying, March 1936. I have used extracts from the article here:
‘To all who served with 40 Squadron in the summer of 1917, “Mazingarbe” must be almost a magic word. It signifies a small clover field amidst the desolate waste of trenches, shell holes, ruined mines and brick works, barbed wire and shell-pocked “holdings”, that stretched from La Bassée Canal to the Scarpe. Owing to the absence of landmarks round it, we incorrectly named it Mazingarbe, after a village that had existed two miles to the north. The clover field is officially mentioned as Petit Sains and Mazingarbe.
‘Being a mile and a half from the trenches, the field was used as an advance landing ground from which we carried out many of our duties and voluntary patrols. It was the official starting point for our third Balloon Strafe, for the attack by 40 and 43 [Squadrons] during the capture of Hill 70, for the early morning trench-strafing carried out in retaliation for similar work carried out by the Germans on our trenches, and for the quick take-off that was required when chasing the enemy two-seaters away from the lines, or when protecting our balloons. The “ground” was equipped with telephone and wireless, and on receipt of a message that a hostile machine was approaching the lines, one of us would take off to chase or down the venturesome enemy. Our maps were divided into sections, with letters to correspond with those used by the wireless people and observers on the ground, so that, by merely giving us a letter, either by telephone, if we were on the ground, or by laying out the letter in large white canvas strips on the ground, if we happened to be in the air, we could immediately dash off to the correct locality.
‘This latter work was purely voluntary, and Mannock, Keen, Zulu Lloyd, Pettigrew, Redler, Lemon, Tudhope, Kennedy and I, usually arranged amongst ourselves that two or three of us would be on the ground or in the air, merely as a protective measure for our artillery observation machines and balloons.
‘Mick and I, either with Tudhope or Kennedy of “A” Flight, frequently used the ground in the afternoons, and, apart from the pleasure of carrying out a bit of strafing, we could sneak into Béthune for tea without having to ask for a tender to take us there. Mazingarbe created a feeling of freedom and of being intimately connected with the war. Apart from the usual morning and afternoon bombardments of Bully-Grenay, only half a mile away, the ground itself was occasionally shelled. There was no fuss or bother about reporting flights, and we were able to go off unostentatiously on whatever “business” attracted us, thus making Mazingarbe the ideal “better ’ole” for enthusiasts.
‘One afternoon I was inside the small hut telephoning a combat report to the Squadron when there were excited shouts from outside. Mannock’s engine revved furiously and I heard him take off in a hurry. Putting down the receiver I darted out. Mick was in the distance over Vimy, chasing an Albatros that had evidently been attempting to bring down one of our balloons. The German, finding Mannock barring his way had turned back, and when I saw them the Albatros was at approximately 500 feet, with Mick close on its tail. It was truly a breathless chase. The German squirmed and twisted in attempts to avoid Mick, or to get his guns on to Mick’s Nieuport. Mick had always declared that ‘one’ on our side of the lines was ‘as good as gone’ but it appeared as if this fellow might get away, until Mannock, thinking he was going to lose his prey, pulled up in a final zoom to dive on his enemy, and sent him crashing to the ground with bullet wounds in his [right] leg and arm, on our side of the lines. [In the crash the German broke his left arm.] [The action] had taken only four minutes.
‘Mick landed immediately and set out to salve what remained of the machine. The German, one von Bartrap [sic], was rescued by the Canadians, but very little remained of the Albatros after the enemy [’s artillery fire] had vented their wrath on it.’
This event took place mid-afternoon on 12 August and the German pilot, whose actual name was Leutnant Joachim Lambert Robert Hermann von Bertrab, had made the foray across into British territory, to attack a balloon of the 2nd Balloon Wing near Neuville St Vaast. This combat has been written about so often that perhaps it is worth recording Mannock’s actual combat report narrative here:
‘Albatros Scout vee type with all black body and wings and 220(?) h.p. Mercédes engine, armament 2 Spandau guns.
‘Hostile machine observed at 3-10 p.m. crossing our lines South of Thelus.
‘E.A. attempted to attack our balloon West of that point and descended to low altitude for that purpose. Nieuport engaged E.A. at approximately 1,000 ft. over Neuville St. Vaast and fired 70 rounds during the course of a close combat. The hostile machine was observed to be hit, a glow of fire appearing in the nacelle, and glided down under reasonable capable control South and East of Petit Vimy, landing down wind and turning over on touching the ground.
‘Prisoner, Lieut. Von Bertropp [sic], sustained fracture of left arm and flesh wounds in right arm and leg, and was taken to hospital immediately on landing.
‘Machine was in very good condition, although upside down, but was unfortunately affected by eventual hostile gunfire.’
Von Bertrab was a pilot with Jasta 30 (within von Tutschek’s JGr 4), and had thus far achieved five victories in air combat. Before joining the air service he had been with Niedersächsisches Field Artillery Regiment Nr.46. Once a pilot, he had served with FA71, as well as Fokkerstaffel Metz. Of his five victories, no less than four had been achieved on one day, 6 April 1917. Early that morning he had engaged and downed two Martinsyde G100 ‘Elephants’ from 27 Squadron, which had been part of a bomb raid on Ath, Belgium. Later that morning he claimed credit for two Sopwith 1½ Strutters of 45 Squadron, which he caused to collide over Pecq during a reconnaissance to Lille. His fifth victory had been a FE2d of 20 Squadron, on 13 May.
Von Bertrab, after treatment for his injuries, ended up in a British prison camp near Taunton, South Devon, given PoW number 478. He continued to fly post-WW1 and was killed in a flying accident near Boitzenberg, some 60 miles north of Berlin, Germany, on 28 July 1922.
Von Bertrab with his distinctive black Albatros Scout.
His Albatros DIII Scout had black fuselage and tail with the fuselage cross in what appears to be pale grey, edged white. On the fuselage, beneath the cockpit was a shooting-star/ comet motif, thought to be either yellow or red, edged possibly in white. His awards were the Iron Cross 1st and 2nd Class, and the Brunswick House Order with Swords – the Order of Henry the Lion, plus the Brunswick War Merit Cross.
This had been Mick Mannock’s sixth official victory, and number seven and eight came three days later, on the 15th. The first was whilst on a late morning patrol, ordered off from the ALG shortly before noon as enemy aircraft had been spotted from there through a telescope. Near Lens just about noon, an Albatros Scout was seen, Mannock engaging in company with Captain Keen. Mannock fired some 20 rounds from medium range and the German made a hasty retreat into some clouds.
Leutnant Joachim von Bertrab, Jasta 30, brought down by Mannock on 12 August 1917.
After several minutes, Mannock spotted a two-seater together with another Albatros Scout heading his way, north over Lens, at 10,000 feet. He began to follow and close the gap, and when he had done so, opened fire on the scout at 12.50 pm, just south of Lens. He fired 60 rounds at close range without being observed and the Albatros went down nose first through thick clouds and was lost to view.
Although from the combat report it does not seem very likely that either German aircraft was hit, Mannock was mentioned in RFC Communiqué No.101, as having scored an ‘out of control’ victory.
The day was far from over and at 19.30 over Lens on an Offensive Patrol, Mannock was in another fight. He dived and engaged an Albatros Scout, firing 30 rounds but almost immediately this German was engaged by another Nieuport.
He turned towards a second Albatros – green mottled wings and a black tail – at 11,000 feet south of La Bassée, above the front lines. Pouring 60 rounds into this machine, Mannock saw hits in the fuselage and near the cockpit. The Albatros began to lose height and appeared out of control. Men on the ALG at Mazingarbe watched as the German machine continued down in an uncontrolled manner but at 1,000 feet the pilot appeared to regain some measure of control just east of the lines north of Lens. Mannock had already pulled away, to replenish the Lewis ammunition drum and to watch for other enemy machines.
It had been a busy day for 40 Squadron with six enemy aircraft claimed. Apart from Mannock’s two – rather suspect – claims, Keen had claimed another two ‘out of control’ during the morning, Bob Hall had sent another Albatros down in flames at 12.50, and G B Crole another ‘out of control’ at 18.45. This was Hall’s fifth and final victory, and he returned to England for a rest. He then flew with 44 Home Defence Squadron (Sopwith Camels) until February 1918. For his work he was awarded the Military Cross and left the RAF in 1920, returning to his native South Africa.
These were also the last victories of Arthur Keen, at least for 1917. His total now had risen to 12. He was later to return to 40 as its commanding officer in June 1918, following the death at that time of Major R S Dallas DSO DSC. Leading 40, Keen claimed two more but was then severely burned in a flying accident on 15 August 1918, and died from his injuries on 12 September.
The day’s loss, however, was a new flight commander, 30-year-old Captain W G Pender MC, shot down by Oberleutnant Hans Bethge, Staffelführer of Jasta 30 during the last OP of the day. Jasta 30 had had Leutnant Heinrich Brügmann wounded over Douvrin on this 15th August, and he died of his wounds on his way to hospital, at 2 pm that afternoon [1]. Which of 40 Squadron’s claims might have involved Brügmann is uncertain, although quite obviously he was a victim in the mid-day action, so either Hall or Mannock.
Mannock had now become acting flight commander, a position quickly confirmed. His combat reports now showed his new rank of captain (acting) for these August air fights, so he had now jumped up from second lieutenant. In fact, his two combat reports for 15 August noted captain for the mid-day action, but still 2/Lt for the evening fight, so even the recording officer was uncertain or had made an error during the day’s activities. Reports from the 17th onwards, however, clearly note captain.
On the 17th Mannock was out over Lens at mid-morning looking for enemy aircraft. At 10.50 he found a DFW two-seater slightly to the south and west of the city and attacked it at 17,000 feet. According to his combat report, the DFW was coloured yellow, red, green and blue, with a light coloured band around the fuselage behind the observer’s cockpit.
Getting his sights on he fired off a whole drum of Lewis in bursts of ten rounds each closing to very close range. The German observer fired back and hit the Nieuport twice but then the two-seater heeled over and went down in a slow spin, leaving a trail of black smoke from its tail section.
Mannock followed it down for 3-4,000 feet while it was still seemingly out of control and went into a cloud layer. Maclanachan also followed the German machine down and below the cloud seeing it continue down east of Sallaumines and eventually hit the ground in what he described as a triangular field north-west of the town.
Twenty minutes later, while west of Lens, Mannock spotted another DFW, this one with a coloured mottled effect. It was at 15,000 feet and the time was 11.10. With a new drum in place Mannock opened fire again but this time with no apparent effect and the pilot merely put his nose down eastwards, the observer firing back as they went. With the drum now empty Mannock pulled away to replenish it and was not able to close with the hostile machine which was now heading towards Douai, as his engine began to play up.
The first DFW was Mannock’s ninth victory. This may have been a machine from RHBZ 6 (Reihenbildzug), a special photographic section within a normal abteilung. This unit had an observer, Oberleutnant Karl Heine severely injured this date; presumably his pilot survived unharmed.
[1] An Airman’s Wife first appeared in 1918, while a reprint came out in 2006, published by Grub Street.
[1] His date of death is also given as 18 August.
