AAR - (SND #1) - The Quick, and the Dead [fast.git] - Take 2
***This is the same AAR as posted earlier, but I've played with the pics... please share your thoughts.***
Along the Franco-Belgian Border, October 1918.
Lt. Albert "Bertie" Brown liked the way this new Sopwith handled. Not a speedster like the SE5a, it was light on the pedals and responsive to the subtlest touch. She wasn't going to win many races, he thought to himself, smiling, but she was going to be the belle of the ball. Treat her well, and she would dance across the sky for you[/I].
Bertie kicked the pedals playfully, slewing the agile scout from left to right, permitting a view of the varied landscape below. A world away from the shattered fields of Flanders, the trees of the Foręt de Mormalin cast long shadows in the days fading light. Drawing his eyes up and back over the Snipe's thrumming Bentley, Bertie almost died.
It wasn't much that alerted the Englishman to death winging down on him from out of the sun, more a feeling than anything else, really. But it was enough. The hairs on his neck standing on end, and a shiver running down his spine, Bertie trusted the instincts that had kept him alive through more than a year of aerial combat over the trenches and kicked his responsive scout into a violent turn to the right.
Trusting that the Snipe could out-turn anything flying, the young Englishman charged the handles of his twin Vickers and stole a glance over his shoulder as metallic rain slammed into the fuselage of his aircraft. Dragging the nose of the Sopwith into a stall, Bertie stole another glance over his shoulder. Eyes squinting, fighting the sun, Bertie caught sight of his assailant as he slashed past, overshooting.
A careless mistake, he thought to himself, now let's make him pay. Kicking the Snipe into a sharp roll turn to the right, Bertie grinned wolfishly. Although holed, his ride was intact, responsive, and hungry for the fight. Straining to keep his eyes on the German, the young Englishman watched as the scout -- a D.VII by the look of it -- rolled into a shallow turn to the left, momentarily disengaging and leveling the playing field.
And that, my friend, is your second mistake. Bertie hunched down against the cold October wind, allowing the torque of the Bentley rotary to throw his stocky little scout about the air with reckless abandon. The D.VII, refusing to behave in a predictable fashion, reversed direction and snapped into a sharp right hand climbing turn...causing the Englishman to give pause and reconsider his approach.
Eschewing the headlong rush, Bertie hauled the Snipe into a steep sideslip, sidestepping the approaching D.VII before either pilot could bring his guns to bear.
Riding the lightning now, Bertie snapped the Snipe over on it's back, rolling the responsive little scout into a punishing turn to the right. His reward? The hunter had now become the hunted.
Staccato thunder drowned out the sound of the Snipe's charging Bentley as the twin Vickers roared, raining shells onto the darting German scout. Firing only a short burst, Bertie was rewarded immediately as he saw the strikes dance about the Fokker's engine and cockpit.
And then it was over.
His foe slumping forward out of view, and the Fokker's engine streaming smoke, the D.VII slowly rolled over onto its back and began the long plunge to the forested hills below. Bertie watched it fall to confirm its demise, but did not tarry overlong. His luck had held for the moment, but he was wise enough to know that such a fickle shield-maiden could desert even the worthy in a heartbeat. Turning to the west, and home, he smiled.
Yes, Lt. Albert "Bertie" Brown liked the way this new Sopwith handled.
The Quick:
The Dead:
Reply With Quote
Originally Posted by Baron Rolf
Bookmarks