Pilotlog Page 17
Somewhere in England, 1943
Enforcer's pilotlog entry:
It was a
delightful day, one where you smash someones knees for not paying
you the Vig
and the "ol boy" screams aloud in anguish.. It's even
better when there are no bobbies in the
vicinity to chase you back to base..
Thinking of the next guy who means to deprive me of my living I
notice as I pass the CO's
posterboard (ocular implant works still) that my name is listed
as being involved in a test
flight against a high ranking No609'er.. Kosmik is his name..
He's been shootin up the
ladder like he's real cosmic I hear, well gotta make someone else
bleed I think to myself..
Flight 1 Enforcer 1 Kosmik 0
We go for the ol turner (Spit 1).. Catching a high deflection
shot on Kosmik I smoke his
engine.. It was just a matter of time till the engine gave up the
ghost..
Flight 2 Enforcer 1 Kosmik 1
Landing back at base to rearm and refuel the Sarge points over to
a Spit 9 waiting just off
the grassy runway.. Once airborne Kosmik locates me real fast at
altitude.. We engage,
maneuver for position and come back in guns blazing.. Kosmik
nails my engine and as
much as I try to get some licks in to no avail, Kosmik finishes
the job..
Flight 3 Enforcer 2 Kosmik 1
Running from the SAR I jump in the first plane I see (Spit 9).. I
track down Kosmik doing
some loops and engage.. Kosmik goes down with a smoking engine..
The next 3 flights were the results of 2 collisions and one badly
lagged flight..
Flight 4 Enforcer 3 Kosmik 1 Draws 3
Once again the Sarge is pointing to an aircraft as Im yelling for
him to refuel me. This time
he's pointing to the sleek silvery Lightning (P 38J).. Ok I
respond jump into the cockpit
and notice it has cup holders.. The Sarge climbes up checks my
straps and hands me a
Guiness "for the long flight Sir!" he says smiling as
he climbs down and pulls the ladder then
chocks..
Cruising to the last reported site of where I downed Kosmik Im
surprised to find that he's
bearing in on me. I evade the head on and drag out the fight a
little. Getting inside of
Kosmik Im rewarded with a good firing solution. Letting loose on
the guns smokes his right
engine.. Taking shots at him forces him down low where he
eventually has to ditch..
I drop my Guiness (empty of course) and roll the wings.. Kosmik
gets SAR while I get
Koko.. Good match Kosmik..
No609_OzZiggy's pilotlog entry:
Dear Mum ..
I’m sorry I haven’t written in so long, mail is a
priority out here,
so i have no excuses save but one.I cant help but feel out of
touch
with home. Everything is so different here..even the sky
isn’t the
radiant blue that we always have at home.
The base is a hive of activity ..the sqn is moving forward to its
temporary
dispersal sites from biggin hill. Finally the sqn is coming up to
full strength,
so i guess i just didnt have time to write. It was on the
XO’s insistence that
I write this letter. He… Compans a brit ...actually threw me
in the brig until
I promised to write, so this is now where I am presently. Every
now and again he checks in on me hands me a cuppa, and busies
himself with the paperwork . I reckon we should call him mother
goose …always looking out for us little goslings. He has
donated a 109 tail plane to the mess as a table,.. its the poor
jerry who came under his guns this morning . No time for
celebration though… he says too much work to be done.
The "blokes" thank you mum for the ANZAC cookies. We
have a really fine bunch here, the squadron is getting up to full
strength now , probably the reason behind our move to the forward
dispersal sites. Im being looked after so dont
worry, our sqn has a guardian angel in our adjutant Kos. Kos is
from Canada
(although he says hes french) he has 9 kills and takes all of us
under his
protective wing. The man has the luck of the devil, and has
survived three
forced landings. The air sea rescue lads and him often go
drinking together,
so I guess they are quick to respond to his mayday calls. Then
there is one
of my strongest mates, Relent, he joined up to get in on the
battle of Britain,
but missed the ship so to speak. Relent is an American ..he
stowed away on
cargo vessel to get to England and is actually in reality an
illegal immigrant!
He has showed me his forged birth certificates which claims his
mother is
English. I guess with all the bombings the records are all mixed
up , so they
let him stay and fight. Anyway he is flying with us now , and we
thank which
ever forces sent him our way. Relent has bagged four jerries
,..three of them
whilst on so called "instrument check flights" by
himself. I guess if your
gonna come all that way to have a crack at the jerries you gotta
get up there
and take the fight to em. A real natural pilot, he has never been
shot down
and claims that the silk of the parachute gives him a rash
anyway. Relent has
taught me some of his tricks, and together we plane to survive
this war. There
are also three other Aussies in the sqn now, Destroyer , Munster
and Heat.
These guys are the best ..tell dad we are the top of the wings
cricketers
(I guess some things don’t change) . Dest is our flight
leader and was bounced
on his way to our base, he had full tanks and as such his spit
wasn’t up to
the fight. Although, he claims that the jerry that got him was a
damn fine
pilot, and is quick to remark " don’t you get cocky
lads ..those jerries know
their flying". Heat is another who has hit the silk before
"once in a training
flight he got to close to a pilot called puma" and the
resulting argument was
settled in the air. Heat lost but It didn’t effect him at
all, and yesterday
he roared over the hedge rows buzzing the field with a victory
roll. He now
has kitchen duties for a week because of his "dangerous
antics" ..no matter
he always comes to barracks with extra ham and eggs ..which he
says
"he borrowed from the brits" . A real card this guy,
never lets anything get
to him. Im glad he is here. Munster went down with a fever upon
arrival and
was out for three weeks. With the extra food from heat he is well
enough to
fly now and is eager to get at the jerries. Then there is the new
crowd: Viper,
Shredd and Shap. Viper and shredd are some more Americans. They
were crop
dusters back in the USA and were on holidays in blighty when the
war broke
out. They absolutely refused to leave the place and have been
shuffled from
one squad to the next. The brits didnt know what to do with em.
Well Compans
did ! and they are now ours…. I tell ya those boys can fly.
The Yanks I have
met are a proud mob and never shirk a scap..glad to have em along
for the show.
Shredd was bounced will transferring spits to biggin hill. A
jerry identified
by radio call sign as zigrat from NJG88 came at him guns blazing.
Well shredd,
cool as ice, flipped the spit over at 200ft and nailed the guy!.
Cropdusters ,…
never fight em at low altitudes. Shap is a German guy… I
dont know how he came
into the sqn ..i think his father makes rolls royce engines for
spitfires or
something like that . So they couldn’t refuse him entry into
the RAF. As usual
anyone you didn’t quite entirely fit ends up in the 609. No
matter , us
misfits are turning into a damn fine unit if I may say so myself.
So thats
it, the blokes, we are still waiting for our CO to get back from
leave ..but
thats basically my family out here in a nutshell. You can see Im
well looked
after so don’t worry!.
Tell little brother I bagged another jerry myself today,
that’s my third ..
I hope to serve Australia proud, but I am starting to realise
that this war
business is not all what the recruitment blokes said. Oh and I
have a lucky
white rabbit as a mascot. A stowaway on the liner that brought me
here,..
I saved him from the ships cooks ….I call him lucky
digger..hes real fat
and pampered by all the guys.
Until later
your son Ziggy.
Puma's pilotlog entry:
Hey Gosh here is my last report if you want to use it feel free:
355 Fighter Squadron
354th Fighter Group USAAF
Boxed, England
July 31, 1944
During an armed reconnaissance mission over France Clutter and I
decide to
do a little 1v1 practice over the channel on our return to
England. The
skies have been filled with airplanes but all the planes have
been allied.
It seems that the Axis powers have decided to hold their air
force back for
some reason. Because the most modern ships have been allocated to
bomber
escort and ground attack. Clutter and I find ourselves in older
Spitfire
1A’s. As we cross the French coast heading for home we set
up a classic
head on engagement. At 10 miles separation we turn toward each
other and
the fight is on.
I start a gradual climb and at the merge I have a significant
altitude
advantage over Clutter. Clutter claws his way up to try and get a
shot at
me but just as he is about to pull the trigger he enters into a
nasty spin.
I swing around and fire simulated rounds but the lack of a cannon
is this
variant of the Spit allows Clutter to continue the fight. I flash
buy just
as Clutter pulls out of his spin. He attempts to follow me up and
get a
shot but he does not have the smash. Another spin is the result
and I come
around and put more bullets into him. Again the bullets seem to
have no
effect. This time I do not pull up in time and Clutter pulls out
of his
spin on my tail. I make an aggressive right turn and soon I am
gaining
angles. The fight goes right down to the deck and as Clutter
attempt to
counter my turn he spins again. This time the altitude gods are
not with
him and he goes into the drink.
Puma 1 Clutter 0
We rejoin formation and head back to altitude this time we turn
towards
each other at 5 miles. I climb again and have altitude at the
merge.
Clutter splice high as I loop. I pull over the top in good firing
position
and this time the rounds take a toll. Smoke billows from the
engine of
Clutter. He tries to get his nose on me but spins. I look over my
shoulder
and watch as Clutter recovers and extends. I think he is easy
prey and dive
in for the kill. As the distance closes I am horrified to see
that Clutter
is coming TOWARDS ME with guns blazing. I let loose with a long
burst of
machine gun fire and Clutter erupts in a ball of flame.
Puma 2 Clutter 0
Fuel dictates that we return to base and we join up for the
flight back to
Boxed. As we taxi to parking we spy a pair of ME 109G-6’s.
“Hmm, wonder if
the CO would mind if we took those out for a quick
familiarization. I can
tell by the look on Clutters face that he has the same idea.
Clutter looks
at me as say “forget it Puma, the Sgt Major will have both
our butts if we
crash those things.” Well it didn't take much for me to
convince Clutter
that those planes had to be tested and in no time at all we are
rolling
down the runway. Over the objections of the ATC we pull gear up
and head
for the training area. Again we set up a head on approach.
At the merge I make a hard flat turn and almost spin. Man this
109 is
touchy. I look for Clutter who is extending away. I give chase
but Clutter
has made good separation. He pulls over the top and comes head to
head
again this time he is firing all the way. I take a few pings but
no
significant damage. This process is repeated several times with
me chasing
Clutter back and forth never able to get a good shot at him and
he picking
away at me. Finally Clutter spins out on his attempt to turn back
into me.
I finally get an advantage but my shot is way off. I run out of
cannon
firing at Clutter. Now we are in a circular fight. We both learn
that the
109 is not a turning fighter. I am in lag behind Clutter popping
away with
my machine guns. Just as I think the machine guns do not have the
power to
do significant damage Clutters tail sections lurches upward and
then
explodes. I pull away to avoid a collision and…Ah! Spin!
Clutter ends the
round before I hit the ground but there is no way I was going to
recover
from a spin in a 109 at 400 feet. Draw
We have fuel for one more round. We merge and this time I am
ready for the
B&Z fight. I climb up and when I reverse I am able to dive
down and close
the distance between myself and Clutter. After a few rounds
impact Clutter
he becomes aware that he cannot extend away from this fight. He
loops his
plane with me in trail. At the top of the loop Clutter spins the
Messerschmitt. I hover above waiting for the right moment. Just
as Clutter
recovers I dive down. Clutter regains enough speed to pull up but
I have
lined him up anticipating the pull. Clutter flies threw a steam
of hot
lead. The cannon rounds and machine gun rip Clutter apart and the
fight is
over. Puma 3 Clutter 0
We taxi over to parking and my worst fears are confirmed. The Sgt
Major is
marching towards us and the SOB isn’t smiling. I jump down
out of the
cockpit and greet the SM who commences to tear me a new one. He
diverts his
attention from me just long enough to jump down Clutters throat,
and then
it’s back to me. Well Clutter and I drag our tails to the
barracks and
await punishment. “How bad could it be I'm a multiple ace
and an officer” I
try to reassure myself. Well at 0400 the next morning I learn how
bad it
could be. MP’s awaken Clutter and I. “KP! You gotta be
sh@#$IO me!” Well
its either that or 90 days in the brig. Guess we'll be washing
dishes for
the next 30 days.
Puma - out
No609_IcePick's pilotlog entry:
Posted By:
No609_IcePick <picksputer@yahoo.com>
(208-248-59-124.hsacorp.net)
Date: Saturday, 7 August 1999, at 7:07 p.m.
It's one of those days,early August,1943. The ground crew just
finishes the engine
inspection that was overdue,When Shap comes to me and
asks"Hey Mate,How
about some training?" Well,I knew I'd rather drink my
tea,smoke a cigarette,and
just enjoy the sun in the brief respite from Jerry's attacks,But
Shap is a Mate,and
we've be close for months,so I said sure let's give it a go!
Well,in the heat of the
day,our wheels go up for some training,and Shap is
smiling-hmmmm....is this a
setup? We seperate and turn in,I feint right and pull left into
his 9 o'clock,he's
gone-what?...... all of a sudden pings all around me,tracers
flying past-Dive, split
s,Pull feint right,turn left-smoke! He taught me a lesson,and
woke me up!We
returned with Shap the victor for that round Shap-Spit 9 (1) ,
Ice-Spit 9 (0).We then
went over to a pair of captured Stukas,the engines roared to
life,and again the lazy
feel of flying returns.Again we seperate,turn into each other,and
we're off.This
time,I'm aware of him and this time ,I turn inside,funny how
timing is everything,this
time I'm on his 6! I watch as he tries to evade,knowing he's in
my sweetspot.
As you know the Stuka lacks firepower,but I think a good trainer
for just pure
flying.I let him have a burst-I am rewarded with the shiny spots
of hits. Shap twists
and turns,but this one is in my sites,I shan't let him go. I fire
a long burst into his
motor-and boom,smoke,this one is mine. Shap (1-1) Ice (1-1).
We return to base even,but that just isn't the way,we have to
decide who is best-this
day.My Spit is repaired and ready to go-As I mount up my
crewchief says-Do Him
Sir!,I smiled and said " we're friends,and we're only having
fun",
so with that off we go ,once again. The Sun shines off of the
canopies as we once
again turn into each other. I go for the feint,when suddenly
Shap,does a climbing
turn,I pull hard,but alas,not soon enough,did I mention timing is
everything? Again
Shap is in my blind spot,my six! Here come the tracers,I jink,I
dive,I start a
scissors,I cut the throttles,I turn,all to no avail,this time
with the smoke,there's
flames!Oh,God, Fire! The motor exploded,oil covering the
windscreen, then,by the
grace of god the flames are out,but so is the motor,It's time to
reaquaint myself with
the Channel,first hand and upclose,and personal. I am quickly
rescued,but not too
happy with losing my bird.When I get back,I find Shap had called
for the rescue and
was waiting to be sure,I was alright.Whew! well now he's up
one,hmmmmmm........Shap (2-1) Ice(1-2).
Again we check on Stukas,and find they are ready once more,so
being they worked
for me before,why not? Again we turn into each other and ,this
time,I refuse to go
swimming,I pull hard,oooops!,too hard,I spin,but recover
quickly,aha! He is still
looking away,I turn,a little more gently and there he is,trying
to dive under,not quick
enough,though,I am on him and have altitude advantage,I drop
right into positon,he
jinks,I jink,he twists,I twist,this time I have the shot.Smoke
answers the call! Shap
(2-2) Ice (2-2).
Well we go back for one more,best of five ,don't you know?I allow
Shap his
choice,big mystery,he pick's the Spit 9.Well they worked twice
before,he had to.
My fault for being in this position,as I man up,my crewman
says,have a good flight
Sir! Starts to get down,thinks then comes back and says"You
know Sir,you fight like
you train,so,if your not giving 110% now,what about when it's
against Jerry for
real?" That got my attention! We go for our last fight,I'm
so attuned,I realize,that
I'm gripping the stick till my fingers are white,and shaking,I
take a deep breathe,and
into the combat we go.This time I go for the usual,and Shap goes
for it,thise time,it's
my lead now! I turn to the right,Him thinking I was going to
feint again,and I catch
him napping,this time it's Shap who is running,and I am the
Hunter,for this space in
time.I don't think of training,I think only of the kill! I taste
blood! It seems I've
bitten my cheek,in my concentration of flying,this time I shoot
and it's His motor
that explodes,then I realize his canopy is shattered!I call
immediately for SAR! He
is recovered,injured,but he will recover.This time it was for
real,my friend was
hurt,but thankfully,not bad,but I did train at 110%. Shap(2-3)
Ice(3-2)
No609_Shap-Awesome airmanship! Great Flying,you made me work to
win,it was
touch and go,but like you said,just like the "Good ole'
Days!" It was pure fun,and an
adrenaline rush,to the max! Thank You! S! to you! No609_IcePick
No609_Relent's pilotlog entry:
First I must say this
was the hardest fought ladder match I've had yet... S! herr
Wile! It was a pleasure flying with you, although I must say my
adrenaline was way
up for most of it - you're a tough adversary!
First round, Wile chose the Me109-E4. At the merge, I was in a
bad position,
expecting boom and zoom, but getting a turning fight... Wile
looped and turned in
behind me in short order and I dove for the deck for evasives.
After a little rolling
and jinking on the way down, I started to black out, then Wile
hit me with a few
20mm rounds and I my engine was smoking. It was just a matter of
time before I
went in.
Wile E. Coyote 1, No609_Relent 0
Second round, I chose the Spit 9. At the merge I could see Wile
was setting up for a
turning fight again, so I was able to quickly adjust and get a
good merge, looping and
turning for position. I was able to get behind Wile in short
order, and getting good
strikes blew his engine.
No609_Relent 1, Wile E. Coyote 1
Third round, Wile chose the Me109-G. Once again, I could see Wile
position himself
for a turning fight, so I obliged. We turned and looped, inversed
looped, you name it.
Just as Wile would get a good rear-quarter position on me I'd
turn it around and get
a position somewhat behind him. I hit Wile with a few rounds in
some high degree
deflection shots, but nothing fatal. We were about even in our
turning and looping,
then I goofed and stalled the touchy Gustav while high in a loop.
I pulled out of the
stall, but Wile was all over me after staying high, and smoked my
engine. Eventually
my engine gave up the ghost and Wile came down to finish me off
down low.
Wile E. Coyote 2, No609_Relent 1
Fourth round, I chose the Spit 9. After some good jinking before
the merge by Wile,
I prepared for a turning fight and Wile passed and extended -
boom and zoom! I was
able to maintain some good speed and chased off after Wile, but
he had an altitude
advantage from the start on this one. After keeping my speed up
while climbing, I
saw Wile pull up and wing over headed down right at me. I was
able to turn towards
him just quick enough to avoid his rounds. I was able to gain a
little on Wile in this
maneuver, and the next couple of extends and wing overs, but
wasn't able to get any
hits on him as I was mostly defensive with a couple of snap shot
attempts. Finally I
started to gain on Wile in another vertical maneuver, AND I
STALLED! Man I was
shaking as I wrestled with my Spit 9 to ease her back to
controlled flight, not
wanting to end the match like this! Luckily I just pulled out of
the stall as Wile came
screaming down on my 6 pumping lead all around me but somehow
missing! I pulled
up just after Wile did but he had big speed advantage, and was
pulling away from me
in the vertical extension. Then I eased my Spit 9 ever so
slightly up, not wanting to
lose more speed than I had to, fired a long sustained burst -
SMOKE!!!!! I got his
engine! I had to ease my Spit 9 out of the loop as my speed
dropped to 80 mph, but
somehow I didn't stall. I was about to come back for the coup de
grace, but I saw
Wile in his parachute and just waggled my wings in salute. Whew!
No609_Relent 2, Wile E. Coyote 2
Fifth round, Wile chose the Me109-E. Once again Wile threw me a
curve, as I
wasn't sure what to expect from this cunning adversary. He seemed
to fein a boom
and zoom pass, then in the last few seconds I could see him
turning towards me -
gotta start my move! I was able to get a good merge this time,
and before long my
loops and turns paid off - I was getting behind Wile! I started
pumping 20mm and
7.62 rounds all around Wile but wasn't hitting. He was flying
some great evasives,
and we finally started corkscrewing down to sea level, but I was
still unable to get
any good hits. Finally we ended up down on the deck, Wile flying
at 20 feet over the
wave tops, and me in hot pursuit. I was still firing when I heard
the 7.62 MG only - I
ran out of cannon rounds! Darn! Wile must have noticed, as he
started using some
good rolling and yo yo type maneuvers. I struggled to keep up
with him, not wanting
to stall in and give it away. Finally I closed to about 300 feet
and peppered his
engine with 7.62 MG rounds - smoke! I pulled up and watched Wile
finally go down
after a long hard fought round.
No609_Relent 3, Wile E. Coyote 2
S! Wile - You fought very well, both in cunning and in raw skill.
I thought you won
the match, as you had me in round 4 after my stall - I was lucky
to avoid your tracers
and get another chance to smoke you ;-). Good match! S!
Relent
"Times of London", daily edition, August 21, 1943:
MAJOR WILE E COYOTE, FAMED GERMAN ACE MISSING OVER CHANNEL! MORE AS INFORMATION IS GATHERED FROM THE R.A.F.
*********************************************************************
This was a
chance for grabbing the guy who was just one of three, but still
a very important catch, if they could only grab him before the
Gerri's got their
rescue craft to him first.
When Relent arrived back at the base, it was abuzz with activity.
As soon as
Relent radioed in that he had splashed the "Wile E
Coyote" German ace, the
wheels were set into motion to capture the bandit. He was placed
on the #1
list of enemy pilots to shoot down, since OzZiggy disappeared
over Germany.
Many thought that Wile or another of his band were responsible
for the missing
man.
Solar Arrow was immediately dispatched to the last spotting
location of Wile's
craft before it sank into the icy waters of the Channel. Wile was
not spotted
hitting the water after bailing out, but the boys knew he
couldn't be too far.
The most important thing was to get men out there fast, and
secure the area for
the prisoner/rescue operation.
Goshawk and Taipan took off immediately in a couple Spit 9's
wanting the
maneuverable Spit with them in the event they were to met up with
Gerri's coming
from the other side for the same purpose. Several other planes
would follow, to
provide top cover for the hurried efforts below.
As soon as Relent's plane rolled to a stop, it was swarmed by
several others of
the crack squadron of aces and ace-types. Salutes, handshakes,
smiles and laughter
seemed to fill the air, and the plane was surrounded by so many,
that only the nose
of the craft was visible to those others standing about. The
Sgt.Major fumed as he
watched a hand reach out of the group on the plane's wing,
raising a bottle of
champagne high up, and the bubbles exploding out of the bottle
and down onto the
heads and shoulders of the men.
But, what pissed the old non-com the most was the fact that some
drips of that
liquid were also likely to drop onto the wings of HIS bird, and
THAT WAS NOT
TOLERABLE!!
He stormed toward the group, pace stick quivering in his
blood-swollen fist. The
unfortunate souls standing at the edge of the bubbub were dealt
with first. A couple
smart slaps of the pace stick sent them back to their tasks. But,
he was wanting his
hand at the officers, and only a few more of the worker blokes to
go before he could
reach the first of his intended victims, that rupert SSGF fellow
who got a bloody field
promotion and then decides to piss it away instead of putting it
to some good use for
the benifit of other less fortunates, the ones who are really the
backbone of the
flying corps, the nco's. The pace stick began quivvering like a
sword about to do
battle. Almost in reach,,
Car horns began sounding and hoots wailed. SSgf moved just out of
the Sgt.Major's
grasp. Shouts began to rise up, "Let's go get the bloody
bastard!", followed by a
cheer and a sudden shift of the crowd. The officer pilots of the
609 jumped off the
wing of Relent's bird, carrying Relent on their shoulders. They
rushed toward a
waiting truck, dispatched to take the mob to a boat, to find the
German ace.
In her office, at her desk, sat Koko, hard at work jotting more
notes into her
little black book. "Heat, good kill in plane, 1 kill,
nestrate 5.2." In the next
column she noted the stat for the previous victor, Goshawk,
"GOS, good kill in
plane, 1 kill, nestrate *8.1*:-)". the book was half filled
with the stats from the years
of maternal planning, ever the consumate mother-to-be!
Her attention was distracted by a loud raucous band of men
outside her window, and
she turned to see Relent sitting atop the shoulders of the 609
boys. Her ears were
able to clearly pick up the chant made by the majority of the
group, "He got the
scourge, he got the scourge, he got the scourge." Koko made
a mental note to check
immediately after work with the doc on base to make sure she
never caught it from
him, and went immediately to the page in her book where Relent
was listed.
"Relent, good kill in plane, 1 kill, nestrate 8.0"
She took her pencil and wetted the tip with her tongue. She drew
a solid line through
the entry, and decided that she would feign a headache or other
female malady
whenever he returned from a victory. She was not about to catch
the "scourge" from
the likes of anyone, especially one of the Brits.
At the dock, the boat captain waited for the truck to screech to
a halt, and his eyes
widened at the sight of several pilot officers rushing to his
boat. What he had not
seen, was the several empty bottles of champagne that had been
tossed about by the
blokes as they drove to the dock. Leave it to say, the 609'ers
were honed to a keen
slosh as they clammored aboard the boat, shouting "Ay cap'n
let'r loose!", and
pointing to the open waters of the channel.
High above the site, Goshawk and Taipan spotted a German rescue
craft slowly
drifting over the waters, obiously preparing to touch down and
pick up Wile. The
pilots dove on the big whitish colored bird, and after plaving
several hundred rounds
across it's nose, the German pilot gave full power and lifted
away, turning slowly
back toward the French coastline.
Goshawk spotted him first, a small dot in the water that bobbed a
couple times
before diving underneath the water to avoid detection. Taipan
then also spotted Wile
floating, and radioed the coordinates. Solar Arrow's plane was
visible in the distance
as a dot, but growing larger.
Within minutes, Hornchurch radar station reported trade to the
southeast, headed
northwest and toward the search/rescue efforts. Goshawk and
Taipan turned crisply
in the direction to stave off the German assistance.
The boat carrying Relent and the other 609'ers arrived within
minutes, and spotted
Wile bobbing in the waves. As they moved the boat closer to make
the grab, Wile
dove under the water and bobbed up again about 50 feet away. The
boat turned to
close the gap, and several of the pilots aboard began looking
about for a life-ring to
toss. Others searched for a weapon of sorts to bash the bugger
with. Still others
were finally succumbing to the mixed effects of the champagne and
wild waves from
the channel action and were slung over the sides, in a humble
attempt at depositing
gutfulls of "chum" into the water.
As darkness began setting in, Wile's mea-west and other floatable
items had been
recovered as he discarded them in his attempt to evade capture.
He was still diving
below the surface as the boat got within reach, only to pop up
about 50 feet in the
other direction.
Kos removed his tunic and boots. He dove into the water to grab
the Wile one when
he saw him bob again.
Wile, upon seeing Kos dive in, took a deep breath, and dove yet
again.
Kos finally came to the surface, forcible exhaling the stale air
from his lungs, and
gasping in new air.
"Did you see him?", he shouted at the others on board.
"Not since he last dove, Kos!" came the reply.
"Well, he's GOT to be here somewhere, for chrissake!"
shouted Kos, looking about
for Wile's head to re-surface.
As darkness fell, the group talked Kos into climbing aboard the
boat.
"There's no sight of him!", radioed the boat captain.
"We're giving up the search,
and headed back in!" As he turned the boat towards the
coastal cliffs, the stern hung
low in the water from the weight of all the 609'ers standing on
the deck, searching
for Wile to pop back up.
Goshawk, overhearing the transmission, turned toward Taipan. Both
pilots shook
their heads in disbelief, fearing that the deadly German Ace
might still be alive
somewhere below the surface, or worse yet, soon to be back flying
in the bloodied
skies above the channel.
Major Wile E Coyote was listed as Missing in Action by both
sides.
FlyinBrian's pilotlog entry:
It was with high anxiety I joined the line in front of the sick
bay doors at 0555.
"Damn!" I thought to myself, "I was hoping I'd be
the only one here this early in the
morning..."
I cast an uneasy glance at the enlisted men, and gave a nervous
nod in their
direction as I took my place at the end of the line. We were all
uncovered, so no
salutes were necessary, or offered.
At exactly 0600 the corpsman on duty opened the doors to the sick
bay, and catching
sight of my collar devices, ushered me into the room.
"We'll take you first, Sir." he said politley.
I always feel a bit guilty being placed in front of the enlisted
men, poor guys, they
work so hard, and put in so many hours, and stand in so many
lines, and then here
comes some Prima Donna officer and just cuts right in, lik
they're not even there.
Even so, this time I was glad that rank has it's priveleges, I
wanted to get this over
with as quickly as possible.
Upon entering the examing room, the eficient corpsman asked,
"What seems to be
the problem, Sir?" as he hung a stethescope around his neck.
"Uh, well, I was hoping to see the Doctor..." I tried
to sound intimidating, to hide my
embarassment.
"Of course, Sir, but first I'll have to get your vitals, and
the nature of your
complaint." quipped the corpsman, oblivious to my scorned
brow.
"Well, it's kind of personal..." I REALLY didn't want
anyone to know about this that
didn't absolutely didn't have to know.
"Yes, sir, I understand." the corpsman said quietly as
a knowing smile crept over
his face.Pulling the thermometer from my mouth, and squinting up
at it, the
corpsman walked briskly out of the room while murmuring over his
shoulder, "The
Doctor will be right in.."
As I sat there wondering what in the workd he could be smiling
about, it suddenly
occured to me what he must be thinking. Damn, I should have just
told him the truth!
Now the rumor mill will be working overtime! I'm never gonna live
this down. A mild
panic set in.
Just at that moment the doctor walked briskly in, "What's
this I hear about you
refusing to let the corpsman examine you?"
"Uh, well, sir, it's not that I..." I began to blush
and stammer.
"I depend on him to do a preliminary diagnosis, and get the
preliminaries out of the
way. It's the only way I can possibly see all these men every
day."
It became clear that the Doctor was very annoyed with me.
"Great!", I thought, "just what I didn't want to
do, cause a fuss. I had wanted to
maintain a low profile through all this.
"So, you caught the Clap, eh?" the Doctor stared
sternly at me, hands on his hips.
"Consorting with that Kookoo woman? Haven't you seen the
training films?
Alright, drop your drawers, let me have a look, I haven't got all
day. You should
have let the corpsman do this. You junior officers are such Prima
Donnas..."
I finally recovered from my shocked embarrassment to blurt out,
"Oh no, sir, you've
got it all wrong! That's not what I'm here for at all!" As I
turned around and
"dropped my drawers" I pointed to my right bum cheek,
and said,"I seem to have
developed a growth..."
The disapproving look suddenly left the good doctor's face as he
bent down to
investigate. "Hmmmm....are you a pilot?"
"Yes, sir I am." I stated humbly."But what does
that have to do with my..."
"Have you been flyin matches on that confounded
ladder?" the good doctor's
demeanor was becoming stern once again.
"No sir!" I protested innocently. After all, I had quit
flying ladder matches months
ago, after having resigned from the 714th.
"Well I'm going to do some checking, and if you're not
telling me the truth, I'll find
out..."said the Doctor sternly.
"I don't understand, sir, what does that have to do with my
problem?" I asked
quizzically.
"What you have here, stuck to your arse, is a Rocky Mountain
Spotted Goshawk
Tick. And from the looks of it, it's going to require surgery to
remove it..."
And so my secret was discovered, even though I was no longer a
member of the
ladder, I had decided to pit my skills against the one known as
"Goshawk", and I
paid the price for it. So as I lay here in my hospital bed,
recovering from surgery, I
issue this warning to any who care to take heed:
WATCH YER SIX!
MadDog's pilotlog entry:
This was
my third match w/ Kosmik, what a great pilot!! The first match he
beat me
3-0, and I really don't like to be shut out. Second match went
little better, the only
kills I got were because of his stick giving him problems, it
seemed.
I took to the air with a grimm determination, and no small amount
of pure fear.
My basic strategy was going to be to gain some lateral separation
prior to the
merge, and go for a upward aspect snap shot at the pass. Then I
would assess my
position and energy and either continue the lead-turn that I had
started or zoom
away for a re-adjustment.
The strategy worked pretty well on the first two rounds, here's
how they all went:
Round 1: Koz picks the Spit 14. I landed a few shots on the pass,
and managed
another hit or two later, thanks to a stall on his part. He went
down, and the scoring
screen said I got 4 hits to his 3. Narrow margin!
Round 2: Koz picks the 14 again, and it went much like the 1st
round. He managed
some long-range hits on me as I extended away on a couple of
passes, but I had him
smoking after the 2nd pass, I think. Score on this round was 5
hits for him and only 4
for me. We concluded that the game actually does assess different
damage ratings
for hits depending on angle, distance, etc.
Round 3: Kosmik picks the Spit IX this time. We had a series of 2
or 3 head-on
passes, guns blazing. On the final pass, I got his engine, and he
got my tail. I was
able to regain some control and kept her level and climbing
slightly, my engine was
fine. Meanwhile I was watching Kosmik's speed and altitude slowly
degenerate. He
hung on as long as he could, heroically keeping his plane
airborne until the
inevitable splash-down.
Since I also had been mortally wounded in that pass, I offered a
draw and he
accepted.
We got back up w/ the Spit IX's. I made a critical BFM error
early on, and Kosmik
jumped on it. He had 50 hits to my 8. OUCH! MadDog goes down in
flames.
Now the score is 2-1, with 1 draw.
For Round 4, I picked the P51D. I don't remember many of the
details, except it was
mostly a vertical fight, and I stalled out a bit at one point. He
got smoke and was
able to peck away at me until my plane was no longer generating
enough lift to
counteract gravity. :-( Nine hits for Kos, 9 for me.
Now it's 2-2-1. Uh oh!! This was starting to look strangely
familiar! I started up 2-0,
and now it's tie!! RATS. If you have the good fortune of
establishing a lead on
Kosmik, DON'T relax! If you give him an ounce of breathing room,
he'll come back
and womp your arse.
Ok. Round 5. I'm sweating it out. I pick the Tempest.
We go up, and I make another critical BFM error and allow him
access to my six.
Fortunately I've got a slight energy advantage, and the match
becomes a LONG one
of my trying to pull far enough away from him to turn for another
pass. Both of our
engines were overheating as we tried to squeeze as much power out
of them as we
could. It had become a chess match. I had a nearly consistent
1000' of altitude on
him, and about a seperation that varied from 2500' to 5000'. I
tried one thing after
another to bring my guns around on him, but always he played it
right and I'd have to
extend again. Finally I hit on a plan that worked: I climbed at
an energy-bleeding 10
degrees or so, and he followed, 3000 feet back. I adjusted my
nose angle to match
his speed, we were both climbing, but I was 2000 feet higher than
he. I climbed in
this fashion until we were both at stall speed. I knew that he
would have to level out,
and his horizontal distance to me would close. I popped out my
flaps, pulled over the
top of my loop w/ my last ounce of energy, and plunged down to
where I knew he
would be. (Nearly directly below me, at that point.) Fortunately
my aim didn't let me
down. A couple of shells landed and I got smoke. From there it
was the typical
swooping high-speed passes to finish him off.
WHEW!!!
Finally manage to get a win against this very talented and wily
pilot. I think it was
more luck than skill. I'll be waiting for the rematch with the
same trepidation.
Great game, Kosmik. See you soon.
Greenbird's pilotlog entry:
As promised, I will in
the following, give a full report of my meeting with SSGF over
the Channel. It was SSGF who was the challenger, and the match
had to be flown in
similar planes.
Round 1:
I chose Me 109K4 for the first round. We took off and both
avoided the first head
on attack. Then it startet like a kind of Scissors fight, but I
guess that I had more
energy after the first pass, SSGF couldnt pull up hard enough and
he passed below
me. I decided to go after his tail, and after some attacks where
I still tried to keep
my higher energy I finally got him.
SSGF vs GreenBird 0-1
Round 2:
This time the battle were flown in Spit IXC´s. After the first
pass I again had more
energy, and I was far above SSGF. When he came from below all I
had to do was to
wait for him to come close to stall speed, and from there I could
close in for a kill.
SSGF vs GreenBird 0-2
Round 3:
SSGF chose Spit 1A for this round. It startet excactly like round
2, I was far above
him after the first pass, but this time I was careless. I
attacked too early and dove
down to get him. I couldnt see him clearly against the dark
surface of the sea, but he
could see me and was really a sharpshooter in this round, he hit
me very hard, and
got my tail. Nice kill SSGF!
SSGF vs GreenBird 1-2
Round 4:
For this round I chose FW 190-D. I thought this was a smart move,
but I got in
trouble because I did some stupid moves and lost too much energy,
I guess I was too
tired - the time was now allmost 4 AM for me. Any way I survived
and we got down
to the surface where I had some trouble shaking SSGF off. After
some confusion
where SSGF thought he got me, I got behind him and hit him a
couple of times
before he stalled and exploded and hit the cold water
SSGF vs GreenBird 1-3
Thanks for the game SSGF! I look foreward to meet you in the air
again.
Dr. Bones' pilotlog entry:
I was sitting in the
O-Club, finishing my second bottle of Scotch and feeling sorry
for
myself, when the sealed envelope came. I struggled upright,
managing to tip the
stool over only twice in the process, and just looked at it. Four
times in the past two
weeks I'd been fished out of the channel, this last time by
moonlight after five hours
afloat, and running dangerously low on beer and pretzels by the
time I was picked
up. Koko wouldn't even *look* at me, and the other pilots were
making less and less
effort to conceal their sniggers all the time.
I finally managed to make both eyes focus on the envelope, after
determining that
there was, in fact, only one, and picked it up. I broke the seal
and spent the next
fifteen minutes extricating the contents. Some idiot had spilled
Scotch all over the
pages, it seemed, since they were soaked. I had no idea how that
had happened.
Somehow I managed to read what was written there, and it wasn't
good.
Squadron HQ wanted me to go after another of those blighters from
the 609th.
Wasn't four straight poundings enough? Blearily I smoked the last
few pretzels from
the bowl, ate the last cigarette in my pack, and staggered off to
quarters. I
undressed immediately and fell into the cot like a stack of
bricks.
Fifteen minutes later, after the nice MP decided to let me go, I
found *my* quarters
and repeated the process. The morning was going to bring lots of
action; I'd better
get some sleep and remember to pack my rubber ducky.