Up till now I've never needed a parachute... Famous Last Words

**Zoe Brain** · 03-22-2014 01:11

Now where is Hilber, anyway? The most reliable one is missing! "Taxi her out!" -Then the missing man appears from out of a tent and comes towards me gasping. He's holding a bundle firmly clasped under his arm and is waving like crazy. I throttled back. Herr Unteroffizier, Herr Unteroffizier, don't you want to take the 'Ober's' parachute along? After all, he's in Berlin today, so why should the thing lie around here unused? Who knows whether you might not need it?" "Don't be ridiculous, Hilber," I reply somewhat irritated. "What should I do with that thing? Up till now I've never needed a parachute and I can also manage today without it."

http://www.overthefront.com/over-the...ouble-jeopardy

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Around my feet and legs arises a rattling and rumbling, a flashing and hissing from untimely exploding fireworks. My assumption that I could have come under the guns of a previously unnoticed opponent immediately proves to be wrong--it's my own machine-gun ammunition which is detonating in turn, according to how it's loaded in the belts and lying in the ammo case. Close behind the motor and almost on top of the fuel lines are the belt cases with their death-bringing incendiary ammunition. A chute made of zinc-coated sheet-iron provides an unhindered supply of amniunition to the machine guns. Under the left ammo chute had been located the flame just extinguished and it had no doubt set some magazines on fire. The new source of heat is now transferring to the entire supply of ammunition in the left container. 500 rounds on each side 1000 rounds altogether! I didn't open fire once today....

Two, three times I call out "Now" and then a fourth time when in a fine, eerie stream a tongue of flame nearly a meter high shoots out and immediately sets the fabric covering on the left side on fire and thrusts out through the fuselage decking into the open air! I am "stinking"!

The magazines explode, sowing destruction. The fuel line is spraying merrily and the slipstream is blowing strongly into it, although I let the crate sag properly. And now my pant-legs, torn to rags by my own machine gun bullets and soaked with fuel, begin to catch fire. First the left, then also the right. The hairs on my fur gloves begin to curl in the increasing heat. The right glass in my goggles cracks; the lattice of cracks robs me of all vision. And the the flickering blaze strikes me right in the face, which fortunately is covered by the leather mask for protection against frost.

**flash** · 03-24-2014 01:43

And yet the poor old Entente pilots had to do without - thank goodness that lesson was finally learned.

**Flying Officer Kyte** · 03-27-2014 03:51

It certainly brings home the horrors of fire, as if one needed a graphic description of the event.
At 12,000 feet there is nowhere to go to escape except over the side. Next time I draw the fire card I will reflect upon this posting Zoe.
Rob.

**fast.git** · 03-27-2014 05:29

Originally Posted by Flying Officer Kyte

It certainly brings home the horrors of fire, as if one needed a graphic description of the event.
At 12,000 feet there is nowhere to go to escape except over the side. Next time I draw the fire card I will reflect upon this posting Zoe.
Rob.

+1

**Biggles downunder** · 03-28-2014 00:09

Originally Posted by Flying Officer Kyte

It certainly brings home the horrors of fire, as if one needed a graphic description of the event.
At 12,000 feet there is nowhere to go to escape except over the side. Next time I draw the fire card I will reflect upon this posting Zoe.
Rob.

Sobering thought!

**Manfred79** · 03-28-2014 05:02

And yet people still think it was all fun and games up there...I cannot imagine the horror one must feel when faced with fire in such a small cockpit with nowhere to go.

**Zoe Brain** · 03-28-2014 05:36

Originally Posted by Manfred79

And yet people still think it was all fun and games up there...I cannot imagine the horror one must feel when faced with fire in such a small cockpit with nowhere to go.

Being hit by an MG bullet is no fun either. Even if it bounced off a metal plate first. They don't tell you two things about such "flesh wounds" from "spent rounds". First, the bullets are hot, the flesh sizzles. Second, a torn metal jacket is as sharp as a razor. So in order to stop the "red hot poker being thrust into your leg" feeling, you end up both burning and cutting your fingers extracting the embedded round from your calf muscle.

I speak from personal experience. Stuff that happened a long time ago, during the Cold War.

The last time I was shot at was a long time ago, 2006. I don't miss it.

**fast.git** · 03-28-2014 05:44

Originally Posted by Manfred79

And yet people still think it was all fun and games up there...I cannot imagine the horror one must feel when faced with fire in such a small cockpit with nowhere to go.

I suppose this is true... but I've yet to meet anyone holding such beliefs.

**Captain Chum** · 03-28-2014 06:15

Originally Posted by Flying Officer Kyte View Post
It certainly brings home the horrors of fire, as if one needed a graphic description of the event.
At 12,000 feet there is nowhere to go to escape except over the side. Next time I draw the fire card I will reflect upon this posting Zoe.
Rob.

Originally Posted by Biggles downunder

Sobering thought!

Indeed.