I have registered for this event:http://riseofflight.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=349&t=36206 (http://riseofflight.com/Forum/viewtopic.php?f=349&t=36206). I joined up as a "mercenary", but if anyone else (Silverback?) is interested I think we could represent Chuffy's.
Sorry Ted already got volunteered to fly with No.42 Squad.
Ah well, no worries mate. Hopefully we'll at least be on the same side!
My AAR for Week One:
There were early indications that I was a little nervous about this: I got my GMT/BST muddled up and tried to join the game two hours early...Once I'd sorted that out I logged into the TS server and awaited orders. The Entente commander is a multilingual Pole and I sat there for a good while listening to conversations in Russian and French. Eventually, though, he switched to English to announce that the mission plans were being sent by PM. By the time I'd worked out that he meant the Jasta 5 forums and not emails and that I hasn't received any PMs it was too late to say anything. Anyway, as Woof knows you don't really need a briefing, and I had to concentrate for the next announcement, which was which TS channel I was to join and therefore which aerodrome I was to take off from and with which flight.
The rules are very clear that once you spawn in you can only communicate with other members of your flight. By now we were past the start time, so I joined the assigned channel, which was populated by 8 Russians and Ukranians. Being the shy and retiring type I waited for someone to say hello, but they carried on chatting away. Not wanting to be left behind (they might already be airborne for all I knew) I spawned in to find myself alone on a windswept, snow covered airfield under leaden skies.
I sat there for twenty minutes before more RFC N17s suddenly started popping into existence beside me and proceeding to take off. This was a moment I'd been dreading as the wind was quite strong - something that isn't usually the case in RoF MP. This is one-life affair, so pranging me kite (or even worse, careering into some else's) on take-off would be extremely anticlimactic, not to say embarrassing. The N17 seems to like me, though and I was aloft with no problems in time to catch up with my comrades.
The next worrying bit was when they started circling at what was evidently a rendezvous - I soon learnt that there is no word in Russian for "two seater". Flying round and round with eight other aircraft with no verbal cues as to what they were about to do was a bit of a tax on my SA, but once again I survived (and, more importantly, so did they) until we straightened up and headed out. Sure enough I soon caught sight of two Harry Tates below us on the same heading.
I didn't really navigate as I had to concentrate on keeping in formation, and also the snow-covered ground together with the low visibility made it pretty tricky. The Lines are unmistakable, though, so when they appeared, and the Archie started barking, I knew I had to start looking about more earnestly.
So it was that I caught sight of a bunch of Albies diving on us and joined in the furball. I don't think I made many hits, but I didn't get hit much either. Pretty soon we were swooping amongst the chimney pots of a sizeable town as the last of the Albies was driven down. My new comrades obviously knew what they were about!
Inevitably the sky emptied of aircraft. Nervously looking about, I spotted two aircraft engaged in a dogfight above me and decided to stooge about until they drifted down to my altitude. Once I was in a position to attack, I made a few passes when it looked like the Allied kite was in trouble. Between us we forced the Hun into landing.
Now I felt I could look at my map. It took a while but I determined that the nearby town was Lens, and set course for home. Feeling very alone (the other Noop had disappeared whilst I was map-reading) I crossed No Man's Land, spending more time looking over my shoulder than in front. Once in friendlier skies, the worry became less about Huns and more about navigating. It was a bit grim for a while, but I finally picked up a landmark.
Now for the final hurdle. According to the rules, returned intact planes can be reused so a proper landing is valuable, but the N17 has a bit of a reputation for being fragile upon alighting. Thinking of this I glanced at my lower wing and saw several bullet holes, which could only make the thing more shaky. And there was the wind...
I made it, with a re-flyable plane to boot. Then the immersion leaked away as I didn't know what to do next, game-wise. After a bit my colleagues re-appeared, made their landings and de-spawned. I realised that, as BD might say, I needed a bit of a lie-down, so I just quit the game.
In conclusion:
The upside is a sense of purpose and adrenaline flow not provided by run of the mill MP.
The downside is not really knowing what's going on. Maybe next week (if I get "picked" - it's a bit oversubscribed) I'll get in with some English speakers, which would help
Informative and amusing post your Tedness; I feel I need much more experience before I ventured into something like this; trashing blindly around the skies in my usual stylee would not be up to scratch.
One question; as sense of acheivement is given, but did you actually enjoy it? :)
Hi Ted,
Thanks for the summary. Our coops used to have more of a 'white knuckles' feeling when we did not build them for MDS but given the low-ish number of players it was unfair to block access after a mishap early on in the prang, especially since they are built around having 8 players. Six will do in a pinch but we've all experienced how unbalanced things can get when there are only four of us.
Eight is optimum, anything higher is a bonus. I'e been on HL when there were 25+ per side and it's great.
Pip, pip,
Conky
Oh yes Conky, I don't think that the one-life business is the be-all-and-end-all. When I played a lot of "Darkest Hour" the clan whose server I played on decided to introduce a similar thing - one life per mission for a weekend. I thought this was a great idea as it would promote realistic (ie scared) behaviour. And it did - for a while. However, I and the rest of the players soon got fed up with being picked off two minutes into the round by someone they hadn't seen and then having to wait 30 mins before the same thing happening again.
I guess what I'm saying is that it's a cool thing to experience (and no doubt I wouldn't be so enthusiastic if I hadn't survived the mission) but it's not what I want most times I fire up IL2 or RoF.
Perhaps we should run a "dead is dead" mission once every now and again?
Well chaps, wish me luck - I've been "volunteered" for the Dawn Mission (actually 1200 BST). Still in the RFC N17, which is good news, and with a bunch of English speakers (and some Americans, arf arf) which is even better news. Now all I need is for the cold which grounded me yesterday to abate a bit...
Week Two AAR
Despite still feeling a bit fluey, I thought I owed it to my CO to show up at the 'drome this ack emma. I was greeted by much more seasonal weather than last week, plus I could understand what was going on. In fact, my flight leader was the commander of the entire Allied force, the multilingual Pole, Lucas. Our flight of 8 comprised four Poles, a Yank, a German, a Serb and me, so our pre-flight brief was like the safety talk on a Polish airline as Lucas explained everything twice.
We lost the Serb to a take-off accident and a Pole to a "disco" soon after - so far, so atmospheric. Thereafter the mission was very similar to last week's: fly in gaggle to meet RE8s, fly in gaggle with same until they'd completed their tasks, and then escort them home. At least this time the weather was clear and I had some idea of where we were heading and why.
As I understood it, the Allied tactics for today were somewhat zerg-like (ask Fitz). Three-quarters of our entire force were detailed to carry out an arty spot and then a trench-mapping, or protect those doing it. As a result, the only planes I saw were RE8s or Noops. At one point the "aces" of the IFRC were spotted above us in their Sopwith Tripes, but I never saw them.
One point of interest was when a Boche kite balloon was spotted and Lucas decided he and his Poles would destroy it. As they approached, however, it was winched down, and he decided discretion the better part, etc - no one wants to be shot down 20 mins into a three hour mission for a balloon. This decision became important later...
Anyhow, the Harry Tates completed their tasks and we all turned toward their base. This was important because one task had been completed (the arty spot), but those mapping the trenches had to return to their homebase intact to get a score. Fritz, it seems, was wise to this and we had just watched the first of the four RE8s land when someone said "Albatros!?".
Despite the usual confusion ("North!" "North of where?", etc) we found them before they could get more than one RE8. There was a brief, low-level furball (ironic after patrolling at 6000ft for one-and-a-half hours), during which my main concern was to get some shots in without getting in the way of my betters. Soon into the scrap one of the Huns sheered off my vertical stabiliser, after which I pretty much became a target. Inevitably I got hit again, until I was too wounded to control my stricken machine, and crunched into the earth. No fire, thankfullly - but neck snapped on impact.
So that was me done for the day.
I retired to the "ready room" channel of TS (a sort of limbo) and found out that the doubling-up of our two-seaters on their tasks meant that the Hun ambush had not deprived us of vital gen (= match points). Also it was fun to listen to other battle-tales (remember we had been confined to our own flights' TS channel during the mission). A discussion soon started about the balloons. A recent rule change means that a landed-but-not-dead pilot could use a balloon in much the same way as we use "Ctrl F2" in our coops.
It seemed obvious to some in the ready room that the ambush at the RE8s' homebase was helped by enemy balloonists knowing where our kites were. Much muttering that taking out balloons should be a priority. A further twist was added by the fact that weapon-mods were outlawed this round. The Allies have an anti-balloon-rocket weapon mod for the N17, but the Axis have no such thing...Conspiracy theories abound, toys are being chucked out of prams and so on.
As some here may know, I'm not one to accept defeat phlegmatically, but, as yet, all this stuff just adds to my entertainment. I know I can be an arse about losing, but I still find it amusing to watch others get worked up about it.
In summary: this is a fun event. Flying a mission, and knowing that there others out there (and not AI) who want to stop you is a thrill. What's also refreshing is that mission success is down to "realistic" objectives rather than just kills
Another fun thing is that I think we're getting a whiff of team spirit on the Entente side now.
Once again I'm not comparing this to what we do with IL2. This is an annual event requiring major admin - fun to take part in every so often, but not what I desire from my Chuffy's evenings.
AAR Week Three
This week I was assigned as a reserve pilot for the dusk mission. With so many people wishing to take part and only 30 slots on the server for our side, it makes sense that we can't all fly all the time. Despite knowing this, I was a bit disgruntled to sit on TS for an hour and a half waiting for a call to fly.
Once that did happen, things perked up a bit. The news form the Ops Room (possible anachronism there) was that our recon pilots had been beaten back in the first half of the mission, so it was up to the reserve crews to go back and finish the job. A sudden flurry of organizational activity resulted in the crew assignments for the RE8s and escorting N17s. I ended up in one of the latter in s flight containing "Waxworks" (an Englishman) and "Lederhosen" (a German with excellent English, naturlich).
The mission was pretty similar to the first two - keep station and keep eyes peeled for Huns. Our basic tactic has been to assemble a large aerial flotilla and penetrate enemy airspace in force. It worked - a few Albies tried to get through to the two-seaters, but we beat them back through weight of numbers. Of course we sustained casualties, and by the time we reached the recon area we'd lost one of three RE8s and about half the escort.
Waxworks' N17 had stopped one in the engine and he'd had to glide for home, but Lederhosen was still with me during the most nervy phase of the mission. This was when the photographs were being taken - the remaining RE8s had to fly up and down deep in Hunland for what seemed like hours. We suffered no interference from Jerry, though. This may have been because some hero in a DH4 had taken down the Huns' "awacs" balloon, or maybe they'd just run out of pilots.
Anyway, the RE8s eventually turned west and we followed them. Now, despite its ungainly appearance, the Harry Tate is a relatively speedy kite, and they soon began to leave us behind. This made us nervous as we both remembered how the Boche had ambushed us at home base in the first week. However, we saw no more Huns, and were able to observe our one remaining charge touch down safely with their photographic plates intact.
I spoiled things slightly by damaging my machine on landing, but we'd been part of a successful mission. According to the log I'd got a fair few bullets into one of the Albies, but I suspect he was already a goner as I got no credit.
RoF works slightly differently to IL2 in this respect - you can be counted as shot down once your engine's out, even if the pilot's fine and the plane's still controllable. It is tactically worthwhile to kill the pilots in this campaign, though, as you can refly (after a time penalty) if you make it back alive. They even included a one minute pause between you hitting "leave mission" and you despawning, so that you can be gunned down! In this instance, however, it wouldn't have mattered if I'd offed the Jerry, as we were getting near the end of the mission.
The take-home from this week. Felt like a second-class citizen once more - some of the "aces" got to fly twice - and nearly quit before flying. Once things started happening, I did get into it. It wasn't too much of a stretch to visualise everyone scurrying to their machines and scrambling to get airborne to get the photos before it got dark. The sense of team-spirit invested the successful completion of the mission with a fair amount of importance.
Next week is the last one. I think that's a reasonable number. There's only so many variations on "escort bombers/recon" that you can do. Also, the more missions you do, the more diluted the "dead is dead" aspect becomes.
Flying around in that cold upper air Ted, and you a poorly man. Hope you had you scarf on.
Interesting read again; but isn't slightly prsnging a Noop on landing par for the course in RoF?
Well done FT!
I've signed up to do this again - flying tonight on a couple of Deep Offensive Patrols
Are we gonna get the reports again? Sterling stuff and so are you, Deadly.
I'll see...The short report after two sorties is two inglorious deaths :'(. But it is fun getting into a sort of MP wargaming situation. I'm sitting here now listening to our "CO" working out what missions to fly to try to win the battle
Just for you Woof...
Just to recap, this campaign is an attempt to bring a bit of structure and a sense of consequences to MP missions. Players are invited to register and state a preference for the side they want to fly. Once that has all been hashed out, each side elects a leader. The organisers work up some side-specific missions - photo recon, bombing, trench-mapping, and so on - and pass them on to the commanders. These gents then use their pilot-availability and pliot-preference (ie fighter or two-seater) spreadsheets to come up with a plan to try to achieve the objectives.
The basic rules are that if you die then that's it for the mission, and, once airborne, you should only use TS to talk to members of your own flight. You can re-fly if you land alive on your own side of the lines, but planes are limited.
All three of the missions I flew were similar, so I'll just describe the middle one.
At the designated hour all Entente pilots assembled in the ready room (TS lobby) for roll-call and flight-designation. Once we had been detailed off we made our way to our respective fields (TS channel). I was in a flight of five N17s. Three were supposed to go into enemy airspace on an aggressive patrol, whilst the other two were to maintain a presence over our own artillery positions. I volunteered for the latter and pulled along a chap I'd flown the previous sortie with (name of Voodoo). We quickly decided that having five of talking at cross-purposes would be counter-productive, so we sub-divided our comms still further into a two-ship and three-ship flight.
Out on the field the weather was grim - light snow and ten-tenths cloud at 1200m, with low horizontal visibility to boot. Thankfully at least there was no lying snow, as that makes navigating much more difficult. It was not a part of the front I'd been posted to before, so that was going to be hard anyway. We all started up and went through pre-flight checks as we awaited the klaxon to signal take-off.
None too soon its raucous blare cut across the idling engines and we all powered up and took off in a careful echelon (no one wants to prang their kite, or someone else's, at this stage). Once all safely aloft we formed up into a gaggle and climbed northwards towards the war.
Presently the three leading aircraft slid onto a different heading, leaving us defensive johnnies to our own devices. Time was split between studying the map and peering over the side to see if I could work out where I was, keeping tabs on Voodoo, searching below for Hun two-seaters after our guns, and, mostly, checking six.
Suddenly a flare, and then another, popped into the gloom off to our north. By straining my eyes I could just make out a shape next to them. A plane? No a balloon. Hmmm...ours or theirs? We consulted the maps more carefully, but were unable to work it out. If ours, then the Hun was about. If theirs, then some of our chaps could need assistance [In RoF balloons shoot flares when enemy planes are nearby]. On balance we though it best to investigate and set out across the mud.
A flicker in the corner of my eye drew my gaze downwards and I made out one...two...three machines circling low over the trenches. Voodoo had seen them too. We thought they looked like Nieuports, possibly our erstwhile flight-mates. Their behaviour was odd though: they seemed to be fighting an invisible foe, but there were no tracers. However, I was uncomfortable spending so much time with my eyes on the ground and when I next looked they had vanished.
[On my second monitor I had TS up. I glanced over and all three of those pilots had disappeared from their channel. The convention is that when you die you go back up into the ready room channel, so TS was telling that all three had been killed in very short order - most chilling!]
As we neared the balloon another flare and Archie bursts - ahead of me Voodoo called out that it was Albatrosses attacking the balloon. We tried to crank out more revs from our engines to hasten onwards. A brief ball of orange flame and a rising pall of black smoke told us that we were too late. Despite the crew's best efforts in winching it down, the Albies had caught the balloon and torched it.
Voodoo was still a bit ahead of me and announced that he could see a lone Albie low down, perhaps trying to finish off the crew. He dived to attack and I tried to provide top cover and/or assistance. More Archie alerted me to the Hun's two pals returning to the scene. Inititally I though I was their target, but they turned on Voodoo and so I turned on them. The fight was brief and bloody. With odds of three to two neither of us was able to pick a target without having someone on our tail. Also we were quite literally outgunned.
[For this campaign we are using mods. One of these reduces the lethality of the MGs. All the Entente buses have a single gun, whereas the Albies have twin Spandaus, each of which has a higher rate of fire than the N17's Vickers. You, as they say, do the maths]
We met our ends on the shell-pocked banks of the river Aisne, a few yards from each other.
Posthumously reporting to the ready room, we found our CO fuming about the extent of our losses [Not really! He's a genial Aussie - handle "I Got Shot" , or "Shot" for short - but he was a bit exasperated]. We'd lost ten fighters in about twenty minutes. Despite this carnage (it's not called "Bloody April" without reason after all) our two-seater boys brought home the bacon and by the end of the mission we were well ahead points-wise.
So, all in all, as with last time it's a fun experience. I guess the only downer is the time involved. Each mission is scheduled for two hours and I ended up at my PC from 18.45 - 00.30, but you don't have to volunteer for them all.
More later maybe...
Sounds as depressingly real as the actual events Ted, with great loss, for little gain, and grindingly relentless nervous stress. I'm very impressed by your tenacity, I never really got to grips with ROF, but your accounts make it sound very worthwhile, if a trifle tense. Bon chance!
Makes excellent reading Ted old chap.
Mak
Thanks chaps. I don't know about tenacity Binks - it was love at first sight for me with RoF so I've just enjoyed it. These events do tend to produce quite intense virtual experiences for me and it's fun to share them.
It sounds great, Ted. Thanks for posting. I think I'll pass, however, as my grit low level light is shining bright.
:-*