The novel takes Bill Harsker from the fields of France to other postings in the post war world of 1918. It is the story of the early days of the R.A.F. when Winston Churchill commanded the fledgling air force. Bill is sent to help fight the Bolsheviks in the Baltic where he has to learn to take-off and land on a carrier. There he has to learn how to play politics with men whose loyalties are not obvious. Ordered to the rebellion in Egypt and then Somaliland, Bill has to learn a whole range of new skills. Based upon actual events Arctic Snow to Desert Sand is the story of how the Royal Air Force learned its skills of war in a time of peace.
A Bill Harsker book which follows him as he takes his place in the post Great War Royal Air Force. Based on actual campaigns it shows how the R.A.F. created the blue print for the use of aeroplanes in future conflicts.
Excerpt
I risked taking the canvas cover from my guns and I cocked them. I had the grenades in my pockets and I took two out and laid them in my lap. The sea seemed to fly by at such a low altitude and I saw the coast loom up quickly. I began to bank to port. I knew that the others would fall into their allotted positions. We were only travelling at ninety miles an hour. It conserved fuel and, until we were in combat, we needed go no faster. As I turned on an easterly course I glanced left and right. My men were in position. I held up my thumb and they all responded. There were no problems. I relied on them following my movements. I adjusted my course to steer more south easterly than easterly. They followed me.
Ahead I saw the town to my left and knew that the airfield was directly ahead. I hoped we had caught them napping. I saw the aeroplanes lined up on either side of the airfield. There were now two lines of eleven. The canvas had been removed. I had no time to assess the quality of aeroplane. We had a plan and we had to stick to it. As luck would have it, there were no aeroplanes in my sights. I heard the other three Vickers as they chattered in short bursts. Then I heard the first crump of a bomb. It was followed in rapid succession by another five. The first loads had been dropped. As I passed the end of the field I banked to starboard, as we had planned. We would now fly obliquely across the airfield. I had deemed that would maximize the damage we could cause. As we turned I saw that some of the enemy were already racing down the runway but there were numerous burning aeroplanes and buildings. We had had success but we had not finished the mission.
This time I did have targets. A Fokker Eindecker crossed into my sights. I fired a short burst and then a second. The monoplane skewed around and stopped. I had either hit the pilot or the aeroplane. I took a Mills bomb, pulled the pin and dropped it as I flew over the Fokker. They were firing all the weapons they had at us. They had rifles and machine guns but we were flying at a hundred miles an hour. By the time they had seen us, we were gone. I prepared a second grenade and dropped that a heartbeat later. I had spied drums. They would either contain fuel or oil. Both were good targets. I heard the last of the bombs as they were dropped behind me. In my mirror I saw explosions and flames. We had hit targets. I did not know what we had destroyed but the mission was a success. Even if we were all shot down we had done what we had intended. When we had passed the airfield. I checked my fuel gauge. I had just over half a tank left. It was time to head home. I whirled my hand above my head and then looked to see the response. They had all understood and I began to climb. My orders were clear. If the enemy pursued us they were to head home and I would deal with the Bolsheviks.
I looked in my mirror as I began my climb. I saw Harry Greaves there. He should have been to the side of me. His gunner was firing at the ground. I frowned. He had been ordered to save the Lewis gun in case we were attacked. I also saw, as they took off, an Albatros D V and two Fokker Triplanes. The Albatros D V was faster than the Strutters. The Fokker was faster than mine. I looked to the side and saw both Rogers and Newton. I waved them ahead of me. Newton, in the absence of Greaves would take the lead. I throttled back to allow them to get ahead and Greaves to catch up with me.
As I dropped back I saw that a pair of old Halberstadt fighters had taken off. Although they were not the fastest, they had synchronized guns and it would mean they outnumbered us. As he came abreast of me Greaves was grinning. He gave me the thumbs up. I waved him forward. I saw that Hood, his gunner, was changing his magazine. It was costly. A third Fokker, a D V this time, must have taken off before the others. The first I knew was when the bullets tore into the tail of the Strutter. One hit Hood in the hand.
Air combat is about decisions made in seconds. I side slipped to starboard and I was already looking for my target. I turned to take on this attacker. I increased my speed as I passed before his guns. I was a smaller target and I was travelling faster. The bullets zipped over my head. My turn allowed me to aim at his side. There were no bullets firing at me and he had failed to try to turn fully and take me on. He was still trying to get Harry who was limping up into the sky. With no rear gunner, Harry was a dead man if the enemy caught him. I waited until I was just forty yards from the Bolshevik pilot before I fired. My bullets tore into the side of the cockpit and I saw him slump forward. The aeroplane began its death dive. I took in the fact that they had left the German markings on it. This one had belonged to Jasta 5.
The combat had allowed the other five aeroplanes to close with me. More importantly it meant they would catch an ailing Greaves. The bullets had damaged his tail and he was now slower. I needed to discourage the Bolsheviks. I still had the advantage of height. They were climbing in a loose V. That was dictated by their speed. The Halberstadt had the worst rate of climb and they lagged behind. I could ignore them. I calculated that they were two hundred feet below me. I would try a flank attack. It would present three good targets and the only way they could defend against me was to turn and that would allow my flight to escape.
I banked to port and throttled back. I needed to conserve fuel and the slower speed would enable me to hit more of the enemy. The two Halberstadt turned to try to attack me. As they were even further back I did not worry about them. I had one Vickers with a full magazine and a second which was half empty. I chose to use the one with the full magazine. I lined myself up so that I would attack the two Fokkers and then I could turn to take on the Albatros. I opened fire on the first one. I fired five short bursts. As I approached I kept edging to port. My first bullets hit his fuselage. My second hit his wings and rigging but my last burst struck his engine which began to smoke and the damage to his wings made the whole aeroplane unstable. It began to spiral to earth. The second pilot showed his inexperience. The pilot of the Albatros banked to port to bring his guns to bear on me but the Fokker pilot saw me coming for him and he pulled his aeroplane into a steep climb. It was too steep. I fired and hit the tail but what killed the triplane was the engine stalling. An aeroplane in flight is a beautiful thing to behold but a stricken one is tragic. It dropped like a stone. The weight of the engine pulled its nose around and it followed its consort to a watery and icy death. The impact would kill the pilot.
I heard the sound of the Albatros’ machine guns. He had fired early. I continued my loop. My Camel had a wonderfully tight turn and I pirouetted inside him. I knew that when I had my shot he would be very close to me. It would be a case of which one’s nerve held. His engine appeared just fifty feet in front of me. I gave one long burst. I hit his propeller, his engine and his upper wing. I suspect I hit him for he did not fire in return. And then I had passed him. I continued my turn to port and climbed. I saw that the two Halberstadt were still below me and gamely climbing. The Albatros was descending with smoke pouring from the engine. If he was lucky he would make land and crash land.
I looked at my fuel gauge. I had less than half a tank of fuel remaining. As much as I wanted to I could not afford any more air combat. I turned north and began a gentle descent to save fuel. I had the legs on the Halberstadt. They would not catch me. The fastest Halberstadt had a top speed of less than one hundred miles an hour. I kept mine at ninety-nine. I would maintain my lead. At five hundred feet, I was almost skimming the waves. I zoomed over the forts. Above me, in the distance I saw the three Strutters. Flight Lieutenant Rogers was keeping them together. They were flying at the speed of the wounded bird. They had learned something from me. But Flight Lieutenant Greaves had shown me they still had much more to learn. I reached Totleben just after they had begun their descent. I would arrive back shortly after they did. I would be flying on fumes.
I saw the smoke of the flotilla as the three Strutters dropped to my height. I saw that Rogers had waved Greaves to the fore to allow him to land. A generous act, it was not necessarily the wisest move. If it crashed on landing, then we would all have a problem. It was a situation I had not covered. That was my fault. I would remedy that when I debriefed them; if we all got down safely. Greaves was a good pilot and he got his kite down in one piece. By the time I was ready to make my approach, only Rogers had to land. My engine gave an alarming cough and then picked up again. As soon as they had pushed the Flight Lieutenant’s Strutter to one side I headed for the deck. I doubted that I would need to cut the engine. It would probably run out of fuel as I touched down. I must have had more fuel than I thought for we not only landed, I was able to turn and take the Camel back to the hangar. I patted the cowling as I descended to the deck, “Well done, old girl!”
