…... suffered a broken thigh from the backward revolution of the “prop.” Sam Wyllie also was a casualty - crashing on a motor-bike between Maretz and Donstiennes.
Both transport drivers and mechanics had some exciting times when salving the engines of planes which had been forced to descend in the shell-swept zones near the "line," but our lucky stars were always in the
ascendant. Let it be said to the eternal credit and honour of our pilots - they were the men who faced danger continually and their losses bear silent testimony to that fact. On the lower deck we always took our hats off to our intrepid pilots. Our mechanics, however, gave them the sweetest, safest running engines they knew how, and our riggers did their part in seeing that a pilot went up with the strongest and tautest of planes to carry him through.
Work was eternal, and when there were dawn patrols, men were up a great part of the night working on machines, and in the grey cold hours before dawn the planes were wheeled out ready for flight.
A transport man stood by the ambulance tender, with engine running, ready should a plane crash to race across the aerodrome, pick up the pilot and get him away to hospital without delay.
All day long mechanics were chasing the “birds” over the aerodrome - and in the hot days of summer innumerable miles were run by these men in heavy boots but with clothes reduced to as little as possible below their blue or khaki dungarees. They were tired men when they turned into their bunks at night.
There were no trade union hours for them, and they had to be ready to turn out night or day when duty called. They were busy days when, for instance, ratings were conveyed early every morning from Tramecourt to Izel-le-Hameau to the aerodrome there, and working hard all day were brought back each night to camp. Iron rations every day plus what could be scrounged on our return. In those days our pilots were operating from Izel-le-Hameau aerodrome doing low flying, trench enfilading, and other risky jobs to harass the enemy in the successful attack then being carried out in the country to the right of Arras, It was a heartening sight to see the German prisoners coming in, but the First Aid Stations told the price that was being paid for successes.
After the day’s work we retired to our quarters, usually the old Nissen huts. Usually also, surrounded by mud.
