Pilotlog Entries
Page 6
GreyWolf's pilotlog entry:
Well guys the Hawaiian Islands was wonderful at Christmas Time. But, the R & R is over and it's back to the grinder.
Sgt. Major MacCulloughy's reply:
"What
the ell are you doing you oribbile little man!. GET YOUR KIT, and
get in that plane or I'll shuve my drill stick so far up your ass you'll be tasting silver for a month!
What do you think this is a bloody holiday camp!. MOVE IT!".
GreyWolf's pilotlog entry:
The old
Greyone slowly walked towards his waiting aircraft.
"Everything OK", he asked his maintence crew. "No
Problem GW, your all fueled, warmed up, and the ammo's checked
& loaded", replied his Crew Chief. "I hear your
going up for your first European Combat, this should be easier
than the way it was in the Pacific, the swim's not as far in this
little pond".
"I dont intend to be the one swimming" the Grey one
said as he climbed into the cockpit. The crew chief helped adjust
the harness and asked, "You did remember to bring your meds
this time didnt you"?
"Yep,
got em in my flight suit pocket and just hope I dont have to use
any of this time", replied the weathered old man in the
pilots seat.
With a final check of his gauges, he throttled up and pulled out
onto the tarmac, turned onto the main strip, and smoothly climbed
into the air.
Round 1
At 20k and over the channel he called into the radio....
"Dino, you ready to get this on, I'm burning fuel and I have
a hot bunk waiting for me"? The radio crackled and Dino
voice rang out in the cockpit. "Grey Wolf" Im headon
with ya about 10 miles out lets ROCK !!!"
At 3 miles out the old Greyone saw a speck on the horizon, then
remembering something.... he quickly donned his glasses. The
little speck appeared much larger then. "Damn, first flight
and I almost blew it" he whispered to himself.
The two Spits closed on one another, and both fired
simultaneously as they passed at over 300 mph. Both aircraft
turned and the dogfight progressed into a slow descending
stallfight. After what seemed like hours, they found themselves
at just over 300 feet above the icy choppy waters of the English
Channel. Neither plane getting any type of advantage. The turn
fight turned into a scissors fight, still no advantage for either
pilot.
After what seemed like an eternity, the old Grey one could feel
that stirring in his chest.
"Damn fine time for one of those episodes to start up",
fumbling with his flight suit. He lost track of Dino while he
quickly looked for the small pills that would erase that pressure
in his chest. Gulping them down, he hoped they would work soon.
Looking over his shoulder, he saw Dino, now only 800 yds out and
firing. He barrel rolled his Spit in a hope to avoid any serious
damage. With the pain finally subsiding, they Grey one figured he
was a dead duck, and his only chance to escape was to cut his
throttle and and let Dino fly right past him just like in that
old movie he saw.
Cutting the throttle he saw Dino coming on strong, and he figured
he might just have a chance. Then WAMMMMMM Dino's bird collided
with his rudder. Dino's craft went spiraling into the channel and
the Grey one found himself still flying. A glider nonetheless,
but still up there.
Round 2
Both Dino and Grey Wolf, hopped into new birds for the next
sorty. The ME-109E's raced towards each other at a breakneck
pace. Grey Wolf squinted and said aloud "I cant let myself
get caught up in another turn fight, damn tactic nearly killed me
last time!"
Aiming carefully he lead Dino's 109 just right. Both pilots
squeezing the trigger almost as if they were one unit. GW's plane
was slightly higher than Dino, and his spray started on Dino's
engine and walked the entire length of his craft. Dino's fire
found GW's underbelly and knocked out his engine. Both pilots
looked back at each other. GW slowly glided his smoking 109 into
a downward turn, he saw that Dino's aircraft didn't fare as well.
Dino
was in a 30 degree dive smoking and headed for the Channel again.
Round 3
"Well that worked well" claimed GW as he climbed into a
P-38 "hardly any turning in that last fight, just the way I
like it." The two fork-tailed devils gained momementum as
they sped towards each other. Dino had a look of determination on
his face and he said to himself "I'll bet this old coot
can't shoot like that again." As they sped towards each
other, the Grey one squinted and squeezed the trigger just as
Dino's craft got within 800 yds.
The sky lite up with the force of an exploding aircraft. Grey
Wolf found himself ducking in the cramped cockpit of the 38, as
he flew thru the debris.
Game - Set - and Match
Dino, thanks for a nice match. You really had me worried with
your turn fighting ability. If it wasn't for my luck with the
headon's this match could have gone the other way. BTW, Gos's
advice almost worked!
RoadRunner's pilotlog entry:
Gos, you
have been doing a terrific job. Vapors and I talked about the
tremendous effort you've been putting into this ladder and yes,
"it ain't easy." Vapors so much wanted to give you
something special from us all that would stand above the usual
Zippo lighter. So he went to great lengths to get you the perfect
special something.
What follows are his efforts:
"Me!, Me! I want to be the present." Koko screamed with
a loud, grainy voice. Typical after a long
and.....well...boisterous night.
In mid sentence Vapors paused, then hesitated a bit and took in a
deep breath. "Koko, my little love-butt, sweetie? You've
been partying for 18 hours. I don't think Gos's going to be
impressed with you as a present in your current condition."
Koko's eyes flashed to white, nostrils flaring, glared solidly at
Vapors. Her knuckles cracked with ever tightening fists. Her
chest heaved against a silk see through snapping the folds
smooth.
Hands to his sides and fingers tapping nervously, Vapors stared
at Koko child like and swallowed with a loud gulp against a dry
throat. I stepped away from Vapors and looked over my shoulder to
plot a course to the front door.
Koko's shoulders hunched, the creases in her reddening face
became more pronounced with each massive breath she took. Grossly
protruding neck muscles pulsated as if pumped with air. Sweat
began to bead on Vapors forehead. With each step backwards his
eyes darted around the room searching for a way out. Like a bull
about to charge, Koko leaned forward and leered at Vapors with
cold, calculating and condemning eye's, moving slowly
and deliberately around him, forcefully blocking any escape
route. She clenched a long handled ax welded to a diamond plate
base the motor pool boy's gave her for imbedding it into the car
door of the CO's Studebaker at 50 yards. She snapped it from its
base and with a sucking breath and swung it high over her head.
The air in the room was thick with pungent perfume, sweat and the
smell of impending death.
Shooting through the front door tripping on its stoop, I was
still airborne when the first explosion of glass echoed in my
ears. I crashed to the front lawn, sprang to my feet and without
looking back, clinging to my life and bolted for the flat across
the street.
Horrible, haunting, wailing high-pitched screams roared from the
house as one could hear Vapors summoning up the strength to
survive the onslaught as he tore from room to room with a raging
Koko in hot pursuit. As if I could see through the walls, my eyes
followed Vapors route from the first floor to second and back
with periodic flickering of human silhouettes flashing passed
opened windows. The deafening sound of splintering wood,
caving plaster and shattering glass filled the night air. The
house appeared haunted and palpitating against the piercing
screams, which now exuded shear terror, they became louder and
more frequent, punctuated by crashing debris.
More screams.
People began to gather, whispering to one another as if the inevitable passing of a soul had prompted the questioning of afterlife.
Then silence!
Time seemed to come to an abrupt halt. My ears strained to filter through the sudden lull. The hour-long minutes passed without a hint of consequence. Then the split, half unhinged front door moved, once, twice then with a final lunge, slid open with a screech.
Vapors emerged lethargic, pale and drawn. "Have fun tonight Koko." I heard Vapors call out, his voice horse and dry. "Goshawk's gonna love ya in them." He added rather meekishly. I stood there dumb founded watching a beaming Koko follow Vapors through the half opened front door. She gave him a passionate kiss, looked over at me with inviting eyes and waved with a twiddle of hers fingers.
"I
need a drink" Vapors remarked as he approached, bent with
exhaustion.
"What the?"
"Remember the nylons I was gonna give Hawkeye? I threw them
at her as she cornered me under the toilet on the bathroom
floor." Vapors explained in a diminishing breath. "It
stopped her in tracks."
That's it?" I asked with confusion.
"Yup, she lit right up, crying she thought I was implying her hairy legs would turn Goshawk off."
"Better she never finds out Gos' weakness is flowing leg lace." I said laughingly.
With a
short exhaling breath and attempting half a smile Vapors
responded. "Yyyeahh! Lets go get drunk."
We appreciate all that you've done Goshawk and all that you have
yet to do. Koko's on her to show you just how much.
Duke's pilotlog entry:
*** FLASH
TRAFFIC *** RECENT AIRCRAFT LOSSES BY BOTH SIDES ***
One Hurricane was reported lost during air combat practice last
night near the Dover coastline. Witnesses indicated that two
Hurricanes initially were seen chasing each other, then smoke
trails were seen leading to the water. Boats were dispatched to
search for wreckage.
Radio intercepts suggest that BF-109E's that were taking part in
maneuvers off the Brittany coast were seen to crash into the
water. Apparently the lead plane struck the water, and seconds
afterwards the trailing aircraft followed right in. Eyewitnesses
were unclear as to the cause of the mishap, but they reported
that two more 109's appeared to be circling the area, then broke
off to engage in dogfighting practice which resulted in a third
109 to crash into the water after the pilot bailed out of his
burning craft.
Two 110G-2's which were in the area of the Brittany accident
apparently were tasked to aid in the recovery process, however,
witnesses saw one plane dip a wing into the water and cartwheel
out of control.
A rather difficult day for the Axis forces, or so it would
appear!
Grizz, you flew a LOT better than the reports would have us all
believe. :-) SALUTE!
Seahawk's pilotlog entry:
Somewhere
in England:
" 5 days? It took you and Wolf 5 days to complete your
match?" Duke glowered from behind his desk.
Seahawk stood at attention, his eyes fixed at 6 inches above
Dukes head.
" Yes Sir." he barked. " There was a slight
problem with....."
" I don't care! Next time make it faster than that!",
he stared at Seahawk, spittle driping from his chin. He stared
for another 60 seconds. It seemed longer.
" Dismissed!"
Seahawk saluted and spun about. Exiting Duke's office he looked
at Wolf sitting in one of the ratty leather chairs. He shrugged
his shoulders and continued out the door.
As he left the building he heard: " Wolf! Get your ass in
here!". Wow, the old man could bark.
Match 1 - Spit 1
This match took place before the mechanics had a chance to
install the new equipement. Seahawk was jittery and unsure of
himself. He'd stopped smoking the week before and it was
effecting his attitude and hand eye coordination. Needless to
say, he lost!!
Seahawk-0, Wolf-1
Match 2 - Hurricane
Seahawk was amazed at the way wolf would twist and turn out of
his way. He had him a coupla times but the Wolf was to canny a
pilot. Seahawk Felt all 8 of Wolfs 303's hit his plane. Toast
Seahawk-0, Wolf-2
Match 3 - FW 190a8
Blazing away with all that lead killed both planes. They hit the
water within seconds of each other.
Draw, Seahawk-0, Wolf-2
Match 4 - FW190a8
This match was all Seahawk. All 30 seconds that is. Hit him on
the chicken pass, and Wolf missed.
Seahawk-1, Wolf-2
This is when we took our break. Both birds seemed to be bouncing
all over the sky and behaving in a very un-airworthy manner. We
agreed to give the mechanics a day or two to work out the kinks.
Then they installed this new equipment and we decided to try
again.
Match 5 - FW190a8
Seahawk was not happy that his view had been blurred by this new
glass, but when he put in the old, his rudder got all screwy so
he went with it. Makes it harder to see, but he saw well enough
to smoke Wolf, after a drawn out spiraling, turning fight. He
coulda sworn Wolf had him, but Seahawk got lucky. His engine
finally gives out.
Seahawk-2, Wolf-2
Match 6 - Spit 1a
Damn, but Wolf had a hard time with the new gadgets. Spun out and
Seahawk smokes him as he is trying to pull out of it. Then he
watched him swim.
Seahawk-3, Wolf-2
Seahawk was waiting for Wolf when he got out of the C.O.'s
office.
" Lets go chase some wild Celtic women. I got an oral
fixation that needs to be fixed."
Seahawk winked at Wolf and they went to commandeer a jeep.
Wolf, Helluva fight. Next time I know I wont be so lucky!
Enforcer's pilotlog entry:
After
hearing (from the latrine???) our illustrious CO Duke chew
Seahawk and Wolf out for taking 5 days to complete their match I
have to wonder how bad Vapors and I are going to hear it for our
match.. Naa Duke and I go way back.. He's not gonna lose his top
over this.. I did polish every dial and every knob in my plane
waiting for my opponent.. If Vapors did the same in his plane
we'd have to fish it out to check..
Flight 1 Enforcer 1 Vapors 0 (Spit9's)
We close, we turn (and turn and turn), both pilots use the angles
and get some shots on each other but Vapors spins once too many
times and winds up swimming..
Flight 2 Enforcer 2 Vapors 0 (Spit9's again)
Same planes same result only this time I hit Vapors less..
Flight 3 Enforcer 3 Vapors 0 (P47d's)
We merge and try for the head on, Vapors pings my plane and I
ping him. After the next few maneuvers I manage to smoke Vapors
engine as he tries to make me overshoot him.. Must've done some
real damage to his engine because shortly after he went swimming
(hey his plane was polished)..
Duke's pilotlog entry: (Challenge to Wolf)
Here
doggie ... Nice doggie ... Here boy ... would you like a treat?
... pay no attention to the club behind my back ... here doggie
doggie ... that's it, c'mon boy ... WHOMP!
[hehe]
Hey Furry Face, let's have ourselves a little fun in the skies,
eh?
Enforcer's pilotlog entry:
In a fury
of activity on the flightline the mechanics ready more planes for
Enforcer and Wolf to do mortal battle.. "I dont believe
it" qips Goshawk standing by the entrance to the hangar,
"that bloke just landed and he's going up again for another
sortie!"
Flight 1 Enforcer 1 (FW190) Wolf 0 (Spit1)
Deciding on the classical B&Z vs best turner the battle is
long, torturous and drawn out until Enforcer scores a kill..
Flight 2 Enforcer 1 (Spit9) Wolf 0 (Spit9) Redo 1
Whoops, Enforcer chooses the Spit9 after asking Wolf if he's
staying in the Spit1 - well Wolf changed to the Spit9 and I
launched the game.. Redo..
Flight 2a Enforcer 2 (Spit1) Wolf 0 (Spit9) Redo 1
A quick turning fight after the merge and Enforcer scores a hit
on Wolf's engine.. Wolf almost converts the remaining altitude
into enough smash to catch Enforcer diving in to finish the job..
Wolf winds up in the drink..
Flight 3 Enforcer 3 (Spit1) Wolf (Spit9) Redo 1
In a battle of energy management Wolf performs a double loop with
Enforcer working the elbow close behind and smelling the kill..
Over the top the 2nd time we both bleed too much speed and spin
(I almost had the dam shot too). Unfortunately Wolf does not pull
out before sending another of the Queen's defender to the bottom
of the channel..
Good Fight Wolf.. Thanks for making me the 2nd EAW ACE on the
Ladder.. I wont forget that.. :)
Goshawk's pilotlog entry:
Goshawk was just starting to stir from the long night's sleep. "Sleep of the dead", was the thought that passed across his mind as he turned to see Koko laying next to him in the narrow bunk. He recalled the first time he saw this island goddess on Coconut Island. The first time he awakened next to her, years earlier, brief thoughts of something to do with a coyote had flashed across his mind.
The name "Coyote" now took on a whole new significance, however, and he ushered the thought of it out of his mind. He forced himself to think of something more pleasant, "Koko"!
He reached out to her, and she stirred with sensuous catlike movements. The slight flaring of her nostrils signalled Gos that she was ready. He didn't know where she picked that up from, but it made her suscinctly different from every other female he had encountered on this Brittish isle. Even the rummies who were introduced to him in pairs by Wolverine before he was lost over enemy lines did not excite Goshawk as much as this Pacific island enchantress with her unending "nesting" instincts and maternal passions.
She missed
her island home, her people, and her customs. She was in her
element, as far as the men in the squadron went. Her encounters
with the new guys as well as the trusty old "sods" (as
she had heard
them called) were wonderfully quenching for the rampant desires
filling her, but,,,,, something was missing. Perhaps it was the
warmth of the southern Pacific airstream. Perhaps it was the
water of the clear blue ocean. In any event, the cold foggy air
of the English isle chilled her to the bone. She feared making it
known to Gos and the others that she had made a special request
through the Dept. of the Navy to serve as a morale-builder aboard
the USS Jim Beam, and that she would be picked up soon and
returned to the Pacific theatre. But, there was the attempt at
motherhood to be done, and she easily re-focused her attention on
the task at hand.
As they began their ritual, a distant shouting from the Sgt.Major was heard. The voice of the "old crust" gained in volume, and Goshawk noticed that Koko's reactions to the passion were somewhat reduced by the growing volume of the Sgt.Major's words.
As the voice became clearer, Koko stopped her movements. The Sgt.Major crossed behind the quonset hut, swearing about his typical complaint. Koko's eyes took on a dazed expression as if in recognition of something from very far away and so long ago. She stopped kissing Goshawk, and turned her head to the sound coming through the wall. A long-lost reaction to stop listening to these somewhat familiar words suddenly gripped her, and yet her ears were peaked to hear them. A rush of excitement passed over her, making her nipples stand erect. Goshawk, as usual, misinterpreted the physiological change as a signal of passion and reached for her
"Bleedin Yank been 'ere five minutes and thinks 'e's saved the ole bloody country! WHAT A RUPERT!!", griped Sgt. Major MacCulloughy.
Koko sprang upright on the cot, her total attention now focused on the voice. "Rupert??", she whispered.
"It's nothing, Ko.", hushed Goshawk, trying to reinterest her in the activity. "Just the SM." he added.
"I've heard some bloody shit in my bleedin time, but that wanker takes the cake! WHAT A LOAD OF OLE COBBLERS!!" The Sgt.Major stopped and shook his head side to side. He plugged a fag into his mouth and lit it. He began walking again to his hut, still carrying on his vociferous tirade. "Somebody should give him a bloody good hiding just like I gave that tosser on that boil on the ass of the world, Cocanut strip."
"Paddy?" whispered Koko. "Rupert? Cobblers? Paddy?", she whispered again. She recognized the slang before she focused on the sound of the voice. Then in full recognition, she knew where she had heard that voice before. "PADDY!!", she called out, the nesting instincts now gone. She sprang from the cot, and threw on her grass skirt and halter top. Try as he might, Goshawk was unable to pull her back into the bed. The voice of the Sgt.Major passed away around the confluence of huts at the field, and as Koko reached the door and stepped quickly outside, he was gone. She began to shout for the man whose voice she recognized from her childhood. "PAAADDY...", she shouted. [CLANG-CLANG-CLANG] Sounded the klaxon at the same time.
Koko's yelling was cut off by the klaxon, that was cut off by the sounds of pilots rushing to man their planes. Goshawk jumped from his cot, and rushed to his waiting Spitfire, brushing Koko aside as he ran from the hut. The sounds of the shuffling men drowned out not only the shouts from Koko, but also the rantings and ravings of the Sgt. Major, who by now had also turned to run to the airstrip.
"Oygle floyt, ferty plus bandits, angells ten eading west bearin 270 degrees.", crackled the radio from Eagle Control.
After a quick takeoff and fight for altitude, Goshawk and a new wingman, Chappie, turned into the direction of the incoming aircraft. Chappie had not encountered enemies up close yet, and the anticipation of it more than made up for the irritation of the unintelligible radio direction given by Eagle squadron control. Both planes gained speed and climbed for valuable altitude. Should they encounter any 109's or 190's, they want to have as much of that precious commodity as possible. "Roger, Eagle control!", responded Goshawk. Both fliers eased the throttles up to 2500 rpm, the Merlins responding smoothly to the input. The pilots sinched up on the harnesses in readiness, and pressed on.
After 10 minutes of flying, they spotted them, small dots in the distance over the channel. The white vapor trails dragging behind the planes for a mile against the clear blue sky. Several planes all total, were approaching in a tight formation. "Let's get them!", announced Goshawk, and he pushed the throttle full in.
Chappie climbed to pick a target rather than follow the lead, and by the time Goshawk spotted the errant pilot, a gaggle of 109's had fallen upon him. Within moments, Chappie's plane went down. Chappie bailed, fortunately, and landed in the channel, but would stay there bouyed by his Mae West until a bravehearted crew in a "Walrus" picked him up an hour later.
Goshawk focused his attention on a lone plane that had pealed off from the group swarming Chappie. Spotting this tactic as an end-around move, Gos figured that this was the best pilot of the bunch. He would later learn, after a disasterous and hard-fought losing battle, that the lone pilot's identity was none other than "Enforcer", and the detailed exploits of that battle would best recorded elsewhere.
Upon returning to base, Goshawk went looking for Koko, to return once more to their earlier pastime activity. When he inquired of the other pilots as to her whereabouts, all he got from them were reports of her "running about shouting for her panties, or something". Goshawk retreated to his hut to await the next klaxon, or surprise visit from Koko.
RoadRunner's pilotlog entry:
Koko popped her head above the tall grass as the image scurried into the hedgerow dragging what appeared to be a very long tail of a kite.
"Probably
that mangy mutt! Damn dog's been tearing my underwear off the
laundry line every morning this week", Koko muttered
settling back to enjoy the brief but now diminishing London sun.
At the sound of a snapping twig, Koko propped herself up above
the grass again. Scanning the direction from which the sound
came, she strained to spot any movement.
"Probably
got my cloths line again. I swear if I catch that mutt I'll kill
it. She said aloud, as she lay back and nestled into the full
figured form of compacted grass.
There was a warm breeze gently blowing over the meadow,
intermittent patches of cool air chilled the tiny beads of sweat
forming on Koko's copper toned skin. She'd giggle as the cool
moist beads rolled from the contours of her plump, pub fed frame
plopping onto the canvas and pooling beneath the small of her
back. She'd clench her toes inward and tighten her calf muscles
to wrestle away the tingling sensation.
A loud
"crack" followed by the sound of footsteps.
Koko sprang to her knees.
It stopped!
Silence replaced the natural surroundings. Koko knelt still, hands across her bare chest and listened, attempting to get a bearing on the intrusive noice. Several minutes passed before returning to her makeshift lair.
A shadow
darkened the bright blank screens of her eyelids and the sweat on
her body chilled rapidly. Koko's eye's sprang open wide to view
the passing cloud but was greeted by a tall shadowy figure
blocking her sun.
"Hey Koko!", the figured called out.
Seemingly
unalarmed, Koko held a hand up to block the sun's glare, which
surrounded the uninvited figure.
"Greywolf! What are you doing here?", she asked
sweetly.
"Well, you told me I could call on you whenever I'm feeling,
well, in a bog." he replied.
Koko paused a moment, then shifting into GW's shadow.
"Ah!
From where I am it looks as if you're in a little more than a
bog", Koko mused.
"Wow, Koko, you can really read people!", GW responded
with amazement.
"Well you're an easy person to read?", Koko replied
with heightening amusement.
"I am? I mean, you don't think I'm deep and complex?",
GW glowed.
"Well. I think you're deep, but I'd say right now, your
problems appear complex." came her reply.
Greywolf swayed his head. "You can really see that? So, from
just by looking at how I might be feeling, you knew I was in a
bog over RR taking me out of three planes last night?"
"No, I didn't get that impression", Koko giggled.
Puzzled, GW asked. "But how can you tell my problems are
complex?"
Koko burst with laughter. "Because you're wearing the
underwear someone's been stealing from me all week. AND! You're
wearing it outside your flight suit!"