It was at Tramecourt that the first N.C.O. pilot arrived. I am sorry to say that he did not stay very long, for apparently he got lost in the air and was last seen flying east into enemy territory. We did not hear of him again until after the war when it became known that he was taken prisoner. No doubt this may sound incredible, but an astonishing number of new pilots were lost in this way. Only those with experience at the Front know how easy it was, and watching a new pilot was a Flight Commander’s greatest anxiety.
On 29 September 1918, after some sixteen months with the 10th Wing, we were sent down to the Somme. After the green fields and unspoilt countryside near Tramecourt, the desolation we found there came as a terrifying contrast. The Germans had started their retreat, and we were advancing over the most barren and shell-ridden country imaginable; the so-called aerodromes were just old battlefields, and for miles there was not even a tree or building.
I had a small personal adventure about this time, when I was slightly wounded whilst on the ground. This was somewhat ironic after being in the air at the Front continuously since August 1916.
I had motored up forward, together with an officer from the Brigade, to inspect an aerodrome that had just fallen into our hands. The Germans were shelling an ammunition dump nearby, and just after we had taken our seats in the car a stray shell exploded in the road behind us; fragments knocked the driver’s steel helmet off and another hit me on the knee. I said to my companion: “Blimey! I’m hit”, but he only laughed and told me not to joke about such things. “I’m not joking," I replied, “it’s quite true," and pulling up my coat and trouser leg found quite a flow of blood. Fortunately it wasn’t serious and I was only laid up for a few days, without leaving the Squadron. However, I had to pass through a casualty clearing station for the usual injection and I duly appeared in the casualty list, which meant a cable home to reassure my family.
Soon after, the Americans reached France in numbers, and a few of their flying personnel were sent to us. Baseball and other new stunts were added to our repertoire. I think every known card game was played at one time or another; poker would be the craze for a while, then vingt-et-un and, of course, the well-known gambling game with a couple of dice and a rude name. For the next move forward we received special transport orders with a time-table giving two days for the move, which meant staying a night on the road somewhere.
