George strode towards the waiting aircraft. “My first patrol!” he thought. The mechanics were busily climbing on the three prepped aircraft. George swung himself up on the wing of the Nieuport 11 to climb into the cockpit. A shout halted him.
“Hey! You! Hold on!” It was Gordon MacPherson, breaking into a run as he hailed him. “No, you two take the DH.2s, I’m flying the odd duck this flight.” George halted. He had little experience on the DH.2, so this last minute switch took him by surprise. George began a question, but Gordon cut him off.
“I’ll take this one, you will have a hard time staying in formation with it. Don’t worry, this is just a routine patrol, we probably won’t even see another aircraft.”
Ernest Young arrived at the tail end of this conversation. It seemed odd that Gordon would insist on flying a certain plane. Ernest couldn’t quite squelch the nagging feeling that something wasn’t right. Gordon insisting on this patrol, even though most of the planes were being overhauled or off on a training exercise. Gordon had convinced the CO that he had seen a German flight and they should go check it out. And now he was telling the new guy that they wouldn’t see any planes? Again, Ernest shook his head, trying to shake off that feeling. Gordon was a solid pilot, and the flight leader this patrol. Ernest headed to his plane.
After an hour in the air, Ernest’s fingers were numb. Flapping them against his knee for what seemed the hundredth time, he watched Gordon’s Nieuport again, waiting for any sign they were going to turn back. They were deep in German territory. Far deeper than usual, not that Ernest was scared or that. The nagging feeling returned.
Suddenly, there they were. Ernest swore. Lulled by the long straight flight and the numbing cold he had missed the German planes. No longer harmless specs, Three Albatros type planes were diving towards them.
IMG_2770 , on Flickr
As the three enemies hurtled towards them, he looked to Gordon’s Nieuport for a signal. For too long there was nothing. What was he waiting for? Do we engage or flee? Slowly Gordon raised his arm and pointed back home. Ernest didn’t waste any time. He threw the stick to the right and smashed his foot down on the rudder bar. Sluggishly the DH2 began its turn.
IMG_2771 , on Flickr
It was too late. Ernest caught a glimpse of the new guy, smoke trailing out of his motor already.
IMG_2772 , on Flickr
Bullets wizzed by his own plane as he and Gordon crisscrossed flight paths. By god, was Gordon grinning? Ernest instinctively ducked as the familiar Pop! Pop! of bullets puncturing canvas came from his wing.
IMG_2773 , on Flickr
They had just shown their tails to the enemy and let them latch on. If only Gordon had been more decisive and made the decision sooner! “We probably won’t even see another aircraft” kept ringing in his head.
They were getting shredded! The poor new guy was panicking, unable to shake the German pursuer. Ernest was unconsciously thinking of him as “the new guy” rather than George.
IMG_2775 , on Flickr
IMG_2778 , on Flickr
Ernest dove and dodged with all of his might. Still, his plane was peppered with bullets!
IMG_2776 , on Flickr
IMG_2779 , on Flickr
The Germans filled the sky around him, and Ernest realized that several more Germans had pounced on them. Bullets now came from every direction. Ernest flew by instinct now, trying to dodge death itself as planes filled the sky.
IMG_2784 , on Flickr
For a brief moment Ernest felt victory as he gave better than he got. A Halberstaad fell in his crosshairs and he mashed down on the trigger.
IMG_2787 , on Flickr
But the cat is never the hunter for long in the home of the dogs, and Ernest was again on the defensive.
IMG_2790 , on Flickr
IMG_2793 , on Flickr
In the distance, Ernest saw the other DH2 in flames, falling from the sky.
IMG_2791 , on Flickr
IMG_2794 , on Flickr
Insane laughter filled Ernest’s head as two German planes collided. “They are hurting themselves more than we are!” The earth and sky spun, and his grip on the control stick was the only grip he had on sanity. Tumbling and turning his DH2 groaned and shuddered with each maneuver. The machine couldn’t take much more, nor could the pilot.
IMG_2795 , on Flickr
Suddenly Ernest felt a thud that shook his whole world. His arms and legs got sluggish and heavy. Everything got quiet as he and his plane slipped down, down, down.
IMG_2796 , on Flickr
IMG_2797 , on Flickr
The last thing Ernest saw was Gordon, flying off towards home, escaping the slowing Germans; In the one plane that was different in the formation, the Nieuport. Neither DH2 would be coming home.
IMG_2800 , on Flickr
-FIN
The Butcher’s Bill
Gordon MacPherson / RTB / 0 Victories
IMG_2801 , on Flickr
George MacAbee / FLM ET / KIA / 0 Victories
IMG_2802 , on Flickr
Ernest Young / SD ET In Hiding 2 missions/ WIA / 0 Victories
IMG_2804 , on Flickr
Germans
Erich Seywald / RTB / 0 Victories IMG_2805 , on Flickr
Wilhelm Kummetz / RTB / 1 Victory IMG_2806 , on Flickr
Christian Walthouse / RTB / 0 Victories IMG_2807 , on Flickr
Albert Mendel / RTB / 0 Victories IMG_2808 , on Flickr
Knud Bielefeld / RTB / 1 Victory IMG_2809 , on Flickr
Karl Niederhoff / RTB / 0 Victories IMG_2810 , on Flickr
Post Script:
I had this one played a while ago, and just never got it written up. It was a difficult mission that I played several times without much luck. However it made a good storyline for mission 13, to be posted soon...
Bookmarks