OTTED Mission 22 - The Last Waltz - 17th October 1917 - Diceslinger
“You are cleared to fly again,” Joe said as he threw a sheaf of papers across the desk. Ernest reached for the papers. He tried to appear relaxed, but Joe saw how the fire flared in his eyes at the news. Joe recognized the same feeling he himself had, the feeling of being cooped up, the feeling of a spring wound too tight. Every man dealt with being grounded differently, but Joe knew what Ernest would do with his first flight back.
“Permission to grab a plane and take her up?” Ernest asked, a barely noticeable tremble in his voice. It was clear to Roland that Ernest had a chip on his shoulder. It was clear that Ernest had a score to settle with his former captors, and if he wasn’t careful it was going to kill him.
“Go ahead, stretch your wings,” Joe said with an easy smile. Grabbing a stack of papers he leaned back in his chair as casually as he could. What choice did he have? If he kept Ernest grounded it would affect the pilot’s confidence. A lack of confidence would get him killed in the air. But blind anger would do the same. Feigning interest in the contents of the papers, Joe dismissed Ernest with a shooing motion.
As soon as the door closed, Joe dropped the papers and threw open the window and climbed out. He had to hurry if he was going to save Ernest from himself. Keeping the canvas tents between himself and the hanger, he made a beeline to the mess. He found Duncan and Lewis playing cards in the corner.
“Duncan, Lewis, I need you two to go up.” Joe said in a serious tone.
“Absolutely, what needs our attention today?” Duncan asked with a wry grin.
“Ernest just got his wings back, and he has a chip on his shoulder. I can’t keep him grounded any longer, but he might need some guardian angels to look after him till he works it out of his system,” said Joe. Duncan and Lewis looked at each other, then nodded to Joe.
“Understood.” Duncan said as he and Lewis rose.
Ernest drifted at about two thousand feet. He busted through the light puffy clouds, enjoying the feeling of flying again. He told himself he was just getting the feel of it back, but his beeline course to the front line belied his intentions.
Not long after crossing the lines he saw what he was looking for. A lone British observation plane raced beneath the clouds, and on his tail was a bright red Albatros. Without a thought Ernest shoved the stick forward and dove toward the red plane like a bull charging a red cape.
With cruel efficiency Ernest sped down on the red plane. Closing within fifty yards, Ernest mashed down on the trigger. Bullets chewed at the red Albatros until it dove into a sharp corkscrew towards the ground.
Ernest’s hot elation turned to ice immediately. As he let off the trigger, the sound of machine gun fire continued. Red tracers flashed past him as he instinctively ducked. Turning around he saw two planes diving out of the clouds at him, spitting twin streams of red fire. It was a trap!
Ernest dove in the craziest manner he could manage. His wings creaked as they were loaded, unloaded, and loaded again with the force of the maneuvers. Streaking fire to his left kept him away from the cloud cover he desperately wanted right now.
The one hundred and fifty horse power of the eight piston engine roared and it widened the gap between it and the pursuing Germans. Bullets thumped into the twisting turning plane as Ernest gripped the control stick with white knuckles.
Finally outpacing the German bullets, Ernest felt the fire of revenge ignite again. He taxed the motor to its limit as he climbed sharply then turned as sharply as the plane could turn.
The two streamlined German planes met him as he turned. Ernest flew as close as he could to the first plane to keep it from targeting him while he tracked the second plane. As they closed the rounded nose of the gold Albatros filled his crosshairs and he fired. Slugs thumped as they slammed into the iron engine block of the Albatros as Ernest roared over the lower plane.
The three planes separated themselves, but Ernest struggled with the stick as he attempted to flatten out. His ailerons seemed jammed in a turn!
The Gold Albatros took full advantage of his predicament, climbing and firing while its motor sputtered inconsistently. Ernest ducked down as bullets tore holes all around him.
Ernest fought the plane back to level, but now the stick seemed like mush and he couldn’t turn! Instead Ernest tried to climb away from the damaged motored Albatros. It climbed with him.
Ernest felt panic rising as his aircraft wouldn’t respond. It was but a matter of time until the other Albatros came to finish him off. Searching the sky his heart leapt! Diving out of the nearest cloud were two Sopwith Camels! The hunter because the hunted as the twin guns of two Camels tore into the gold Albatros.
Lewis willed his Camel to dive faster. With Duncan on his wing they dove through the broken clouds. Hoping to surprise the German harassing the SE5, Lewis plunged into the blinding white mass. If he guessed correctly they would come out right behind the gold Albatros. If he guessed wrong….well, he didn’t want to think about it. As the two Camels dropped out of the sky, Lewis saw that he had guessed right. Lewis kept the Albatros dead center in his sight as his Camel screamed down like a falcon upon prey.
The Albatros never saw him, and tumbled to the ground below.
Banking around the three now turned their fierce winged steeds toward the remaining German scout.
Reluctantly the Albatros squared up against them.
The Albatros deftly avoided Duncan in the lead Camel. Ernest was too high to exchange fire, and Lewis bore the brunt of the attack as he tried to turn the Camel against the enormous gyroscopic force of the engine.
The planes all parted as quickly as they had come together. Like a flock of birds they scattered…
Then they all came rushing back together. Ernest’s guns were the first to start chattering, then the twin Spandau of the German’s joined in with their distinctive staccato.
The harsh booming stutter of the guns deafened the ears of the four pilots. Canvas strained, wood flexed to its breaking point, and engines roared like angry lions. Each pilot was fueled by adrenaline, reacted by pure instinct, and saw only blind fury laced with equally blind terror.
It was the Albatros that faltered first. The plywood fuselage let bright daylight though it in too many placed for it to be healthy. Ribbons of canvas trailed the broad wings as it dropped out of the sky. Spinning and trailing smoke it plunged towards the ground. The hunt was over, the itch of revenge sated for the moment. Ernest sat back in his cockpit, weak as the adrenaline rush subsided, leaving him mortal again.
FIN
Butcher’s Bill
Ernest Young / RTB / 1K
Duncan Green / RTB / 1K
Lewis Springs / RTB / 1K
Alfred Mettlich / EXP FT / 0K
Crash: Rolled 7 -3 EXP =6, Severely Injured, Skip 6 Scenarios
Heinrich Mallincrodt / EXP FT / 0K
Crash: Rolled 4 – 3 EXP = 1 Dead!
Knud Bielfeld / SD FT / 0K
Crash: Rolled 6 -1 SD =5 Injured, Skip 2 Scenarios
Reply With Quote
What a thrilling 
Bookmarks