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Thread: Mission 7: Retaliation of the Allies; Return of a Friend

  1. #1

    Default Mission 7: Retaliation of the Allies; Return of a Friend

    Mission Breifing:
    Central units involved:
    3 Pfalz D.IIIas (pilots Max Kreiger, Jakob Strauss, Josef Wencke)

    Allied units involved:
    1 Se5a (pilot Joseph Montgomery)
    1 SPAD XIII (pilot Fransesco Duma)
    1 Bristol (pilot Harry Cobbs, tail gunner Richard Wayne)

    Following the attack on the Iron Duke, Allied commanders decided to initiate a counter-attack on German coastal airfields near the Baltic before they could regroup and launch another strike.
    We did this mission several days ago, but my family and I have been crazy busy this weekend, so I had no time to submit a report.

    Joining us that day were our cousins Wyatt and Riley. Both chose to fly for the Allies; Greyson was elated since all previous guests opted to fly for my Jasta lol. My youngest brother Beau also joined in to fly Kreiger's black and white Pfalz for its 3rd mission.



    The mission started with the 3 Pfalzes sitting peacefully on the grass, waiting for their next assignment. But wait! What are those 3 specks on the horizon? Alarm! The airfield is under attack! Get those birds off the ground you fools!



    Fransesco's SPAD dove in for a strafing run as the pilots ran to their planes, damaging Strauss's white and red plane.



    The Central pilots begin to take off...



    By this time Harry Cobbs' Bristol had reached the airfield. (Cousin Riley brought his own Bristol to the game and decided to fly it.) Its mission was to destroy at least half of the 4 hangars on the airfield's perimeter. (We used two flipped-over aircraft cards side-by-side to simulate hangars). He dropped the 1st of his 4 bombs and scored a direct hit. BOOM!



    All 3 of the Pfalzes chased Harry around for a while, but could never get in range. The Bristol simply outsped them all.



    But when Harry turned to bomb the next hangar, Max Kreiger's plane caught up with him. Tail gunner Richard Wayne was alert and ready for him though. Bullets snapped briskly through Max's airframe, lacerating it with holes and setting it alight.



    Flames ate up the fuselage from the engine, blowing towards Max's face. Max kept his head however and refused to panic. He turned about and made a near-perfect ditch on the airstrip and then ran clear of his burning airplane.



    Determined to not be outdone by his tail gunner, Harry latched on to Strauss's tail and shot him down. He also managed to bomb a second hangar.



    Now Wencke was alone against 3 hostile aircraft. Although the Bristol stole the spotlight for most of the mission, the other two Allied fighters had laid about themselves admirably, damaging all who dared draw near. As things were, Wencke's chances were slim; his engine was damaged meaning his airspeed - and thus his ability to sustain a tight turn - was rather limited.



    The struggle was brief. Joseph Montgomery's Se5a (piloted by Wyatt) droned in to deliver the coup de grace. Wencke did not survive the crash.

    Debriefing:
    Central pilot Max Kreiger is shot down by Bristol F2B gunner Richard Wayne, but manages to survive and land; RTB.
    Central pilot Jakob Strauss is shot down by Bristol F2B piloted by Harry Cobbs; WIA.
    Central pilot Josef Wencke is shot down by Se5a piloted by Joseph Montgomery; KIA.
    Allied pilot Fransesco Duma successfully escorts Bristol F2B piloted by Harry Cobbs to and from the target; RTB.
    Allied pilot Joseph Montgomery shoots down Pfalz D.IIIa piloted by Josef Wencke; 1 kill confirmation requested; RTB.
    Allied pilot Harry Cobbs shoots down Pfalz D.IIIa piloted by Jakob Strauss. Cobbs also bombs two enemy hangars; 3 kill confirmations requested; RTB.
    Allied tail gunner Richard Wayne shoots down Pfalz D.IIIa piloted by Max Kreiger; 1 kill confirmation requested; RTB.



    The base was a shambles. Bomb craters dotted the airstrip. Several hangars had sustained direct hits and were now blazing piles of tinder. Airfield personnel ran back and forth, slowly but surely putting the multiple fires out. Here and there wrecked fighters could be seen – all of them Central. Max Kreiger’s burning crate sat preeminently in the foreground, while farther away was Jakob Strauss’s twisted plane. Furthest of all from the base, in a quiet field, lay the pieces of Josef Wencke’s Pfalz, a grim testimony to the loss of a life.
    A farmer’s haycart ambled up the road nearby the base. The man clicked softly and tugged the reins, bringing his pony to a stop. The charred spectacle of the airbase lay before him.
    “Saints above,” he murmered. Then he turned to the back of the haycart.
    “Um…are you sure this is the place? You might want to have a look at it yourself.”
    An older man sat up slowly. He looked haggard and exhausted. He obviously hadn’t shaved for days and bruises splotched his face along with some dried blood. Hay stuck out from his greying hair and his uniform. He was wearing a British trench coat over a tattered German pilot’s tunic. He rubbed his eyes and blinked.
    “Ja,” he said slowly. “Ja, this is the aerodrome. But what have they done with it?” He chuckled hoarsely. “Just look how messy those young piloten are! Can’t even keep their own airbase clean. They need me now more than ever.” He looked up at the confused farmer.
    “Just drive me up there. They’ll recognize me.” The farmer nodded and snapped the reins and the haycart slowly trundled towards the base.
    It didn’t take long for the guards to notice it. They were on edge already from the recent bombing. Two of them ran up to the cart.
    “Aufhoren! Stop! You can’t drive up here! Don’t you know there’s a war on?”
    “I…well…uh,” the farmer fumbled for words. The man in the back sat up again and looked the nearest guard in the eye.
    “Well hello there Bruno! I don’t suppose you remember me?” Bruno stepped back, his rifle pointed.
    “Who is this?” he asked nervously. “And how did you know my name?”
    “I’ve known you ever since you were assigned here Bruno.” The man coughed and regained his breath. “I may not look it, but surely you remember old Steinbecker?” Bruno froze and then looked closer.
    “Mein gute! It is you! Look! Look! It’s Steinbecker!” The other guard approached, grinning from ear to ear.
    “You old rascal,” he murmered.
    “Ja,” Steinbecker replied. “It’s me alright. But haven’t I had a time getting back to you fellows?” By now other men had noticed the cart and were running up to it. The news that Steinbecker had returned spread like wildfire.
    “Is it really you?”
    “My, you look awful!”
    “Where did you get the Tommy coat?”
    “How did you get out of there?”
    Steinbecker raised his hands. “All in due time fellows, all in due time. But, first things first!” he winked. “Does anyone have a light? I could use one about now.” They all erupted with laughter; a mechanic offered him a cigarette. Steinbecker accepted it gratefully and took a long pull. By that time, the medical orderly had gotten to him and was ushering him to the barracks and to a clean bed. Steinbecker settled down into the bed with relish. “At least they didn’t bomb the barracks. The kind fellows!” More laughter.
    “So,” someone began, “How on earth
    did you get out?” Steinbecker leaned back in his bed and took another pull.
    “Well it all started that day I got shot down. I went head on with a Camel and he shredded my plane. I fell out of control. I actually lost my top wing on the way down! But since my Dr 1 had three to start with, I did alright.”
    “As soon as that top wing flew off, I actually could control my plane a little using the rudder and elevators. I was still falling mind you, but it was now a controlled fall. The ground rushed up at me very quickly. But the trees - ach! There were trees everywhere! One was right in my way – I had to kick rudder to avoid it. When I kicked it, though, I had to do it very quickly. That spun my plane out of control again and I crashed nose first into the dirt. Thankfully I had not been too far off the ground and wasn’t going too fast anymore.” Steinbecker coughed and then continued.
    “I checked myself. I was very lucky, no broken bones though there were cuts and bruises everywhere. Then I had to hide. I knew they would come looking for me. I was too sore to run, so I crawled out of my plane. I saw my top wing near a creek about 100 meters away, so I made it to there. It took me about 15 minutes. I lay down in the grass and simply pulled the wing over top of me. Then I had to wait. Oh the minutes were like hours! Pretty soon the Tommies arrived in their trucks. They were very excited to find my plane, and they looked all over for me. But Providence intervened. It was so dark by the time they arrived that they never noticed me and my little wing over by the creek. After a couple hours they gave up and left. I felt a little better after the rest and made it a couple miles that night, using my pocket compass to guide me.”
    “I made it my practice to travel at night and find somewhere secluded to hide and sleep during the day. I made it along pretty good for a while, eating what I could find, and avoiding the Tommy patrols. But after a few days it became more difficult – I was nearing the front you see. Soldiers were becoming too frequent an obstacle. The distance I was able to travel each night was cut in half. I wasn’t doing too well either. Rest when I could get it was fitful, food when I could get it was sparse, and my clothes…well they weren’t going to last too long either.” He chuckled.
    “Providence intervened again the night I crossed the front lines. That night, a horrible downpour came, putting all their camp fires out and driving them into their miserable tents and sod barracks. There were very few lookouts that night and they were far too busy shivering and hugging their coats to notice me as I slipped by. I continued into no-man’s land. I hadn’t gone too far when I tripped over something. I looked to see what it was and I saw a leg. It was a British soldier. He was sprawled in the mud – dead as a doornail. I was about to turn and leave when I heard him moan. Turns out he wasn’t as dead as I thought. I rushed back and looked him over again. The poor fellow had been hit by shrapnel and left for dead. I suppose they didn’t feel safe enough to come out and bury him until later. His wound was bad and he was too weak to call for help. In that downpour I knew he wouldn’t survive the night anyway.” Steinbecker’s audience listened with bated breath.
    “So,” someone finally asked, “what did you do?” Steinbecker shifted in his bed a little.
    “The only thing I could do,” he said seriously.
    “I picked him up and carried him back to his own lines.” Gasps of astonishment filled the room.
    “Didn’t they catch you?” a pilot asked.
    “The lookouts spotted me soon enough and ran over. My English isn’t too good, but it appeared they knew this soldier. Anyway, they seemed very happy to see him alive. Most of them rushed him off to someplace dry – well, as dry as the trenches could afford. That left me alone with one of the lookouts. For some time, we just stood there looking at each other in the pouring rain, me a Deutsch and he an Englander. Then the man did the most astonishing thing, you would not believe it. He took off his trench coat, gave it to me and saluted. Then he walked away and let me be. After that it was a matter of crossing the lines and finding a ride to our airfield, which the farmer so kindly provided. And that, gentlemen, is my story.”
    The room stood mute in shocked silence.
    “It’s a rare thing to see that happen during wartime anymore,” someone eventually said.
    “Ja! I can’t believe that happened! It’s as if it were right from the storybooks!”
    “I wouldn’t have believed it hadn’t old Steinbecker told it.”
    “Someone should write that down!”
    “Shhh! He’s sleeping!” And indeed, there Steinbecker lay, sleeping the first sound sleep he had had in a week. Quietly and reverently, the group filed out of the room and closed the door.
    Last edited by HotleadColdfeet; 09-15-2014 at 20:53.

  2. #2

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    Not only an interesting mission but also a great concluding story line Cole.
    Full marks for imaginative genius.
    Rob.
    "Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you're scared to death."

  3. #3

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    Superb AAR. Action all the way. I loved the ground level combat. Pity the Hun didn't have some AA mg's. Might have given the aircraft a bit more time to regroup and hammer the dastardly British.
    See you on the Dark Side......

  4. #4

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    Great AAR Cole....enjoyed it immensely.

  5. #5

    Thumbs up

    What a cracking AAR Cole.
    The Allies certainly metered out some damage to the old Hun in that one.
    Great storyline as well.

  6. #6

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    Outstanding AAR Cole!! A Biff a V.II.... Great job! Loved the conclusion too. Rep on your way.
    Thanks


    Nick

  7. #7

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    You are a wordsmith Cole - great story telling !

  8. #8

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    Thanks all! I enjoyed writing this one. I posted the 8th AAR just now; here's the link:
    http://www.wingsofwar.org/forums/sho...at-lurks-above



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