On the morning of 11th November, 1918, I was sitting in my [Sopwith] Snipe at 8 a.m just about to "wave the chocks away" and take off to bomb and shoot-up the busy rail junction of Ath, which was an important link in the German line of communications. Just as I was about to give the signal to the other five machines, I noticed signs of a commotion on the tarmac, a lot of waving of arms by the people there. A figure detached itself and with much furious waving of arms, came galloping out on the airfield in my direction. I waited until an orderly from the Sqd. office arrived very much out of breath, and gasped out his message, "Flight 'washed-out' Sir, Cancelled! Peace has been signed!" When he got his breath back, he gave me more details. The Armistice was to operate from 11.am, no more offensive moves were to be made. I sat for a minute or two in the machine while the news sank in, trying to grasp all the implications, while my prop ticked over. I thought to myself, "perhaps its only a false alarm, but it washes out this flight, anyhow". I detached my Verey pistol [flare] from the fitting, inserted a white cartridge, and aiming into the air away from the other machines and the Airfield buildings, fired the regulation signal "washing-out" the flight, and taxied back to the tarmac in front of our hangar, followed by the other five Snipes. I still felt dubious about it, I felt there must be some mistake. For the rest of the morning, I, with most of the other pilots of the Sqd. zooned around the airfield buildings and our quarters feeling like fish out of water. We still doubted the news, we really were unable to think clearly. However, when 11 a.m. came we began to show a little more interest. We began to notice the unearthly silence from the direction of the front line, where previously the dull roar of guns, and crackle of musketry fire was the familiar sound; there was now a dead silence. We began to think, it must be right after all; the war could be over!
I sat for a minute or two in the machine while the news sank in, trying to grasp all the implications, while my prop ticked over. I thought to myself, "perhaps its only a false alarm, but it washes out this flight, anyhow". I detached my Verey pistol [flare] from the fitting, inserted a white cartridge, and aiming into the air away from the other machines and the Airfield buildings, fired the regulation signal "washing-out" the flight, and taxied back to the tarmac in front of our hangar, followed by the other five Snipes. I still felt dubious about it, I felt there must be some mistake.
For the rest of the morning, I, with most of the other pilots of the Sqd. zooned around the airfield buildings and our quarters feeling like fish out of water. We still doubted the news, we really were unable to think clearly. However, when 11 a.m. came we began to show a little more interest. We began to notice the unearthly silence from the direction of the front line, where previously the dull roar of guns, and crackle of musketry fire was the familiar sound; there was now a dead silence. We began to think, it must be right after all; the war could be over!
camFreedom, liberty, equity and an Australian Republic
