First of all, I'd like to thank Busc for a splendid scenario!
I was the CO of the 8 axis 109 G-2's. We split into 2 schwarms, Vadr lead the other one. We were supposed to take care of the escorts while Kirin's 190s engage the buffs. Visconti's 205 were sightseeing along the countryside.
Here's my report:We took off from A36 and headed NE towards the HQ. We flew over it and turned W above V61 to rendezvous with the 190s. Soon we spotted them and started looking for enemies together.
Suddenly the 205 flight spots P38s north of us, so I take my schwarm and head there. We spot 2 high P38s who are not willing to mix it up. Allied scouts, obviously. We head back South towards the 190s and the rest of our boys.
At this point, the radar counter showed the cons moving to the SW sectors of A35, so we decided to position ourselves between the field and the cons.
The 2 P38s have found our 190 flight so Vadr gives them close escort. I head West to look for the strike group.
Suddenly I see a crapload of dots at 1oc low. SPITS!! IN IN IN IN!! More dots lower, B17s!! I pull my plane into a split-s and get behind the last spit. The distance closes rapidly, less than a kilometer now. The spit sees me and starts rolling and jiving. We're very high, so my plane buffets as I try to aim - I miss the shot. I extend east with another spit on my tail, just as I see the 190s hit the B17s from their left flank. 2 B17s start to smoke right away. I try to drag the nme to my wingie's sights, but too late. The spit hits my oil lines just before he is forced to break off.
Trailing oil, I head NE for a friendly field. Suddenly I see a 109 chased by a spit below me. I put my bird into a dive and hope I'll be able to get there in time. The spit sees me and pulls up. I break hard to get on his tail, just as my engine sputters and dies! Luckily I have enough momentum to bring my nose around and manage to get a nice burst of 20mm into him! The spit looses control, the pilot bails out.
Short of options, I point my nose down again and look for a place to ditch. Suddenly I notice spits closing fast, I try to evade but my glider runs out of energy fast. My plane takes his last mortal hits and forcing me to bail.
As I hang in my chute, the same spit that just shot me down, decides to auger near me - 2nd kill of the mission!
I land smoothly and sit down on a grassy patch. The roar of the planes dogfighting above is deafening. But little by little, the sound fades and finally it is quiet again. Smoke pillars rise here and there, like fingers pointing at the crash sites.
I pick my chute and start walking home. The sun shines bright, there's not a cloud in sight. It's going to be a lovely day.
Camo
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Camouflage
XO, Lentolaivue 34
www.muodos.fi/LLv34 Brewster into AH!"The really good pilots use their superior judgement to keep them out of situations
where they might be required to demonstrate their superior skill."
[This message has been edited by LLv34_Camouflage (edited 07-03-2000).]