Sat there, in the Deck chair, sipping Tea, brought by the beautiful Geisha we had hired for the Officers Mess, chatting away about how we would wipe out the Yankee scum with our glorious 84’s.
Our joyous solitude was soon interrupted, a Squadron Scramble??? Surely not!!!
We rush to our beautiful black 84’s, you know, the one’s with the red arrow on, and up we soar, like a beautiful swallow, the feelings soaring in our hearts in the knowledge that we were soon to send those Yankee’s back into the sea.
We climbed and zigged, and then we climbed and zagged, soon getting to the dizzying heights of 30 thousand feet, looking back and down I could just make out our coast line, suddenly my wingman Solar san shouts out, Cons 10 o’clock co-alt.
So the Mighty USMC/71 Sqn swoop across to see what they are, and there are 4 F4U’s, heavy, so we leave those and go looking for the Fighter cover, and believe me we find it!
16 F6F’s, about 500 feet above us, this is not good, we cannot dive as fast as the dam Yankee’s but some how have to get them below 10 thousand to give our selves a chance at pounding them from the sky.
My wingman and I keep together looking after each other as Yankee after Yankee flash before my cockpit, I hit a few of them with snapshots, but was unsure whether or not I managed to down any.
The radio is alive with chatter, there goes a dam Yankee, and another, and another, then suddenly, high F4U’s come screaming in and all of a sudden the tide starts to change, one after another I start to loose my fellow Sqn members.
I look for my wingman, ‘SteffK san where are you?’ I hear Solar san cry out, I cannot see you, I look for my wingmans coloured icon, but cannot see him, ‘Get them off me, Get them of me’ I hear him scream, I call out bet am getting nothing. Solar san is Gone, my heart aches. I shall reap my revenge for his courageous sacrifice for our land of Lotus Blossom.
I suddenly see tracer fly past my Canopy, jink left and look, an F6F, 600 out coming in fast, I scissor and drop throttle, he over shoots, a quick squeeze, BOOOOM!!! One less Yankee to worry about, I head back to my home field to re-fuel and re-arm.
I arrive there just as those accursed TBM’s are dive bombing the field, and help to clear the area, taking one’s tail off and exploding another, and laughing with glee as another clips the Tower with his wing, what a day…There are 4 to my Tally.
Upon landing I am joined by our glorious leader Sled on the re-arm pad, we discuss what we are going to do when over the radio I hear JRCCrow calling out for assistance.
He was at 30 thousand, nearly with the angels, literally, with 3 F4U’s trailing him, he knew he could keep them at bay with our 84’s spiralling climb. Sled answers and tells him we are on the way to aid and abet his glorious return to the homeland.
Sled re-arms first and proceeds’ to take of, but fails to see the bomb crater (I better not mention he ran into a building), and explodes in a ball of flame!
I tell Crow, he is deeply saddened by that, I tell him I am just launching north to gain alt and will turn south once I have reach 10 thousand feet.
Crow is giving me a running commentary on his progression as I WEP climb, and turn South towards him, he is still at 30 thousand and keeping a good distance, I am slowly climbing up to 30 thousand and reach 25, I call for Crow to start a slow easy reverse back towards me.
I just level off at 30 and see 4 black dots in the distance off my 10 o’clock, and call him on the radio, he tells me that our glorious Squadron Commander is with him, helping him, talking to him, from beyond the grave, I think the Doctor’s may need to look at him after this.
I put my 84 into a slight dive to gather speed and head to wards my compatriot, I engage them, and they scatter one pulls a left turn and attempts to scissor, I chop throttle and follow him, he then reverses, straight into my guns BOOM!!! Another one down, so I reverse to see that Crow has them in a tight Spiral climb, knowing they cannot keep up with him, he is flying as though possessed, maybe he does have our CO helping in his mind.
I dive to get to them, just as they stall out and open up on one, getting a few hits I blast through, the Yankee’s have now lost their advantage and dive to get away, we both follow in shallower dives, but gradually catch up, this is where we our at our best, low, slow and dirty.
Crow is playing with one, and I chase another away, we believe he augured into the sea, where he belongs, for a watery grave.
We start to work the final one, when all of a sudden Crow scream out that he has one on his tail and breaks up and right, the F4U follows, leaving me with the other one.
We dance awhile, scissoring and feathering our throttles, the dam Yankee drops his flaps, so I drop mine, our speeds plummet and we are as light as feathers, floating inside, over, under each other, ‘Click’, no more cannon, I suddenly see an F4U fill my wind screen as Crow calls out that the other is on me, I squeeze my trigger and see small calibre after small calibre hit the Yankee’s engine and canopy, then ‘BOOM’, just as I see tracer fly past my canopy and some hitting my left wing, I continue my right roll, seeing the Yankee flash past me. I right myself and retract my flaps and give chase, Crow has the speed advantage and chases him.
Eventually I stop loosing ground and keep a steady distance, we chased the final F4U for about 10 – 15 miles then decide to head back for home, as I was low on ammo and, to my surprise found that Crow had not expended a single round!
We arrive safely back to base and I land first, all the time looking for any spurious contacts coming that could encumber our sedate, or so I thought, landing. Throttle back, Wheels down, Flaps out, nice and steady, easy does it, the 84 is such a graceful plane, gently kiss the dirt runway and I’m down, ‘Phew’ I whisper to no one in particular, thank the gods of Bushido. ‘CRASH’ I look behind me and Crow has thrown his hard into the dirt and lost wings and undercarriage, he moans over the radio and the Ambulance heads towards him.
I hear over the radio he is fine and I re-arm and sit and wait at the end of the runway for my next mission, the only one left from 12. Our Wing leader calls for a recall and I breathe a deep sigh of relief, taxiing to the Hanger and turning off the engine.
I wearily climb from my beautiful swallow and see the not so beautiful swiss cheese it has become, ‘How did you fly?’ I ask her, ‘The gods were with you Sir’ my groundcrew reply, ‘They must have been’.
I walk back to the Mess and my chair and sit down. Our Geisha turns up with some nice warm Saki, I take it from her and gulp it down, she takes my hand and leads me to my room, but that is another story.
