Confessions of a Traitor
Dearest Mother and Father,
I write this letter with a heavy heart. As you both well know, I have served the German Empire and its cause during this most difficult time of war. I have faithfully climbed into the cockpit of whatever crate the Fatherland has provided me with time and time again in order to expidite the end of this conflict. But my heart is heavy and I have disgraced my family and country.
I had heard rumors of a new aeroplane the English were bringing to the fight that would help them achive victory in the air but we all know rumors can be quite missleading at times. Fellow pilots who had faced it, claimed this dread new machine could outrun any of our crates. This magic machine could turn on a dime to the right or left and even slide to the left or right with such violence and speed of action, one dare not try to duplicate the maneuver for fear of losing a wing. One pilot told me the English plane could dive without fear of damage and it was near impossible to chase after the craft if the pilot chose to leave the fight.
I must confess that I wished this magic craft had been created by our side of the conflict. Soon after I witnessed this most magnificent aeroplane in action with my own eyes. I'm lucky to have even survived the encounter, everything I had heard was true. The Englishman and his plane danced around me at will, striking here and there, until my plane was full of holes. It was like a cat who had cornered a mouse and playfully batted it around at will, waiting until the very end to finish off and devour it's prey!
I used my last and most dangerous trick to escape the clutches of this Englishman and his wonder plane. I threw my battered craft into a spin and feigned death as I hurttled toward the ground. At the last possible moment I recovered my craft and discovered my ruse had worked. The Englishman believed I was lost so he headed home in victory. This was the moment I knew what I was really fighting each day for.
I thought my motives were duty, country, and honor but no, this was not the case. I realized for the first time I was consumed with a desire to be the best ace in the war. I did not really care who won or who lost but rather I was there flying and fighting each day to be the best. At that moment, I knew that I had to fly that glorious English machine, no matter what the cost. Since my battered craft and I were behind enemy lines, I landed in a nearby field and put distance between me and my machine. I ditched my uniform and clothed myself in a pair of common trousers and shirt.
For berevity, I will skip the subtle details of my ruse but I was able to walk onto an English Aerodrome and pass myself off as a new pilot reporting for duty. Thanks to all those years we spent in England when I was a boy, my English was unquestioned by the men at the base. Alas, my time had come. Finally I was granted a machine worthy of my talents. I climbed into the cockpit of a beautiful RAF S.E.5a and my new life began.
My first sortie was a two man defensive patrol. As we climed to a modest altitude....oh how my machine climbed! We encountered a pair of Pfalz D.IIIa's, a craft I was all too familiar with. At first my heart sank knowing my fellow Germans were behind the controls of those two Pfalz D.III's but then as we closed with them and the first burst were fired, my desire to be the greatest pilot of the war took hold.
Soon we had converged and everyone was maneuvering for the kill. My wingman was struck on the first pass and as bad luck would have it, his machine began to burn. He stayed in the fight though, confident in his S.E.5a. I began a series of climbes and and climbing turns to get above my opponents. My new plane and I became one as I mastered both opponents outmaneuvering and peppering them with bullets at will. In the fury and confusion I narrowly escaped death as one of the Pfalz pilots clipped my machine with his. The damage was light and the ruggedness of the S.E.5a kept me aloft.
I caught sight of my wingman and noted his flames had gone out. He was locked in a head on pass with the same Pfalz I was approaching from broadside. We converged and fired at the same time, sending my poor countryman to his death. The loss was bittersweet because in that same pass, the brave German pilot managed to hit my wingman and bring him down as well. Of course I had no sympathy for my English wingman and I was glad to know I could call the victory over the Pfalz my own.
As I turned my S.E.5a around to meet my last opponent head on, I knew that I would win the day. As we passed and fired at each other, my bullets found their mark and his did not. His crippled craft fell away and smashed into the ground ending the German pilots life. At that moment I knew my life as a pilot for the German Empire was over and my new life was just begining.
I'm most sorry, Mother and Father. I wish things were different but they are not. Know that I will fly and fight with honor and as long as the English produce aeroplanes like the S.E.5a, I will fight on their side.
Your loving son.
(My wife is my regular WOW opponent and she always flies for the Allied powers and I fly for the Central powers. I'm not sure in the last few years if I have ever flown any of the Entente planes in WOW. We just received our series 4 planes last week and last night was the first chance we had to fly them. My wife graciuosly agreed to let me fly the RAF S.E5a's and I loved them. We had a great time and I look forward to mastering the unique traits of the S.E.5a. By the way, I thought the Pfalz D.III's made a good showing too. My wife did manage to shoot down one of my S.E.5a's!)
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Originally Posted by rkhlegacy
You dastardly Fritz, you.
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