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“Fish and Gyps” by Joe Archibald

Link - Posted by David on August 24, 2018 @ 6:00 am in

“Haw-w-w-w-w!” That sound can only mean one thing—that marvel from Boonetown, Iowa is back causing more trouble than he’s worth! That miscreant of Calamity brings down a well-known Von and the higher-ups feel he should be sent Stateside to go on the lecture circuit to drum up enlistees. Problem is, he only makes it as far as Jolly Ol’ England where he comes upon a Boche Zeppelin. It’s “Fish and Gyps” with a “flying cigar” for dessert! It’s another Phineas Pinkham laugh panic from the pages of the September 1936 Flying Aces!

“Hail, the Conquering Hero Comes!” To those rousing strains, the Brass Hats paraded Phineas back to the States. And so, Garrity rejoiced as peace finally reigned once more on the drome of the 9th. But how was the Major to know which way the Pinkham parade was headed? And who’d have expected the von Sputzes to supply that parade with its main “float”?

My Most Thrilling Sky Fight: Lieut. Maurice Boyau

Link - Posted by David on July 25, 2018 @ 6:00 am in

AMIDST all the great pulp thrills and features in Sky Fighters, they ran a true story feature collected by Ace Williams wherein famous War Aces would tell actual true accounts of thrilling moments in their fighting lives! This time we have French flyer—Lieut. Maurice Boyau!

Maurice Boyau was France’s fifth ranking ace. Fonck, Guynemyer, Nungesser and Madon, all ranked above him in actual victories scored. Maurice Boyau combined all the best qualities of these four aces and wan in addition the most ingenious. If death had not cut short his flaming career long before the war ended, it is very possible that he might have attained the honor of being France’s ace of aces, for he had every qualification for that distinction. He was struck down when he had run his 35 victories, but not before he had won every medal within the power of his native country to bestow. These Included the Legion d’Honneur, Medaille Militaire and the Croix da Guerre, with numerous stars and palms. The following story taken from his diary gives a striking and vivid example of his ingenuity. The translator has made no attempt to polish the language of Boyau’s script, feeling that to do so would take away from the charming simplicity of the document.

 

THE BALLOON SLASHER

by Lieutenant Maurice Boyau • Sky Fighters, September 1936

DOWNING enemy avions is one thing. It requires a certain technique that one learns only by experience. I have much experience in such fighting up to date with considerable luck thrown in. But until today I had never challenged any Boche Drachens or the anti-aircraft crews ordered to guard them. In order to augment my battle experience I decided to tackle one of those big rubber cows which are much like a youngster’s carnival gas balloon of grotesque shape held with a string.

I went out on a solitary balloon hunting expedition behind the Boche lines. But as was my usual habit before taking off I filled the side pocket of my petite Spad with hand grenades. These were mainly, of course, to destroy my own machine if I should be forced to land behind the enemy lines. Today I used them for a much different purpose, a most unusual purpose….

Allons! It is of no interest what I am writing. I should be specific, otherwise there is no point in keeping a diary. I proceed to the action.

A Dot in the Sky

I flew for almost a full hour before finding what I set out for. Finally I spied one, just a grey, elongated dot in the blue and white sky, maybe ten kilometers ahead and to my right.

I swing up on each wing alternately to search the sky lanes for hidden enemy aircraft. But I see none, so I straighten out and make for the area behind the Drachen. I hope to surprise by attacking from the rear in the glow of the sun. My strategy is successful, for I almost reach it in a silent dive with throttled motor before the crew sees me.

The archies start firing and the puffs blow around me. I have my sights on the balloon though, and press my triggers. Sacre! My mitrailleuse! It jams with the first shot. I chandelle and try to clear, but it is useless. The breech is plugged tight. The archie shells puff like corn in a popper! Only the kernels are black instead of white. I struggle vainly.

The Drachen begins to descend in swift, jerky movements. The winch on the ground is hauling it in. The archie fire intensifies, and I hear the flutter of machine-gun bullets from the ground as they sift through the fabric of my wings.

Defeat is Unthinkable

I have come many kilometers into enemy skies and have spent a whole hour in search of this Drachen. To return in full defeat is unthinkable. Suddenly I think of my little souvenirs in the side pocket. The grenades! I pull one from the pocket and dive again through the hail of fire. Pinching the stick between my knees I pull the firing pin with one hand and toss the grenade with the other.

But I miss by many meters! Two, three times I climb off, only to return and dive with the same trick. But each time I miss. And then I have only one grenade left. The Drachen is almost to the ground, and the gunfire is terrific. My poor petite Spad has been riddled like a sieve.

Ah! A sudden thought strikes me. “Why not?” I say. “The tail skid is like a knife. It’s a steel shoe. . . .”

I chandelle again, dive down for another attempt. But this time I hold my dive until my avion almost touches its nose to the quivering Drachen. At the last moment I pull back swiftly, kicking my tail down and hear nothing, feel nothing. But when I look back over my shoulder I see that I have slashed the Drachen with my tail skid. Some of the balloon netting is dangling from my skid and whipping backwards.

I renverse swiftly, take my last grenade. As I sweep over the sliced balloon, it spreads apart like a cleaved sausage. I toss the grenade into the yawning chasm. Over my shoulder I see a burst of orange-red flame, then a blanket of smoke. The huge envelope fails over lazily in the sky and goes streaking down.

It is my first balloon victory. And to think that I win it with jammed guns. C’est un miracle!

“The Overstrand” by Frederick Blakeslee

Link - Posted by David on August 21, 2017 @ 6:00 am in

Frederick Blakeslee painted all the covers for the entire run of Dare-Devil Aces. And each of those covers had a story behind it. On Dare-Devil Aces’ September 1936 cover, Mr. Blakeslee gives us his two favorite things to paint—planes and trains—in this case a couple Boulton Paul Overstrands attacking a train depot!

th_DDA_3609I DON’T know whether it makes much sense or not to tell the story behind this month’s cover, because action speaks louder than words, and all but the blind can see that a perfectly good piece of railroad is being blasted all over the premises by the sky raiders. Still, maybe we could use a little information on just what sort of ships these giant bombers are.

The big crates, coming in low, are Boulton Paul “Overstrands.” From the damage apparent on the cover and the bombing to be inflicted by ships we were not able to show, you can well imagine what’s going to happen to the enemy’s railroad. Of course, it is a practical military tactic, as old as warfare itself, to cripple your enemy’s means of transportation.

If at this late date, War should come to us again, and God forbid that it ever should, I believe this cover should give you some idea of what would happen. We have, for purposes of illustration, placed the “Overstrands” at a much lower altitude than they would really attempt. Were they actually to fly at this altitude, the terrific concussion that would ensue from the bombardment, might well put them out of commission. War is no longer a pleasant pastime, and the bombs to be dropped today are not precisely baseballs.

But suppose they were actually at this height—suppose this illustrated scene were actually taking place. At that altitude the ship’s speed would be somewhere around 160 m.p.h.—somewhat faster than the speed attained by the fastest, single-seat combat crates of World War days. The “Overstrand” is a bomber, pure and simple, but it is carefully protected by three gun positions, bow, amidship and prone. It can carry a load of 2,196 pounds, and its service ceiling is 22,500 feet.

Fred Blakeslee

The Story Behind The Cover
“The Overstrand: The Story Behind The Cover” by Frederick Blakeslee
(September 1936, Dare-Devil Aces)

“Transpacific Plunder” by Frederick C. Painton

Link - Posted by Bill on February 10, 2010 @ 10:14 pm in

Tony Blaine knew it was a bad idea to be in that Manilla bar in the first place—after all his first take-off as chief pilot of the Pacific Cruiser was less than four hours away. And when that girl approached him, deep down in his gut, he knew trouble was also going to be aboard this flight