Where else could you rat race around in a Spit V chasing a P51 through the smoke of a burning field, getting the occasional ping.
You watch helplessly as he starts to pull away on the deck hugging the tree tops.
To add insult to injury, you dip a wing, and roll yourself into a ball in the trees only to find yourself alive, still strapped in the cockpit of your now upside down and wingless Spit.
And much to your surprise you get the kill on the 51.
Ain't life grand

Dan/Slack
