It was two days ago now and I smile every time I think about it. I was in the DA in my usual ride (190A8) and things weren't going well at all. I was feeling like a bullet magnet, not getting any good shots and mostly swimming in Furball Lake. I decided to try a different plane, add a little variety to things.
After a little time poking around in the hanger I settled on the C-hog (what can I say, I like cannons) and took her up for a flight. As I crossed edge of the cliff I dove down and maneuvered a bit to see what she could do and immediately noticed how everything just felt right. She just had a "feel" about her that made her instantly comfortable.
Emboldened, I headed for the fray. Still inexperienced myself and now in an unfamiliar plane I did manage to get some shots off and while I damaged some bogey's, none of them were kills. Now I'm bingo ammo and on the far side of the lake looking for a way out. I feint a couple of aggressive moves to slip past two bogey's and manage to egress from the conflict. As I'm departing I check six and notice I have picked up a P51 2000k out and slightly higher than me.
I think, ok, if you want me you're going to have to work for it! I enter into a shallow dive from about 500 feet above the deck to pick up speed, climb enough for a little altitude and start to "porpoise" my way back to the base. I keep checking my six and he's slowly catching up but only flies straight and level which helps me to drag this out. This is going to be close. A few more shallow dives and slow climbs, another check six and he's still gaining. This is going to be really close!
I finally reach the shoreline and there is no way I can climb the cliff wall and survive, he's right on top of me hoping I pull up. I start right and then kick in left rudder and yank the stick into a sharp left bank just as tracers start whizzing past my canopy. I hear a few pings but nothing serious.
As I bank hard left he recovers spraying me and landing a ping or two but ends up outside of me. I yanked that plane left and right, rolled and dove, did everything I knew how to do (which isn't a lot) and even did some things I didn't know I could do. I went to the ragged edge and back and he followed my every move just that little bit wider than I, tracers whizzing by me and the occasional pings ringing through the cockpit. She holds together and I think, if you won't give up, neither will I and so around we go.
It seemed like 10 minutes had passed but couldn't have been more than 2, ...120 seconds. I looked back and the P51 is heading out over the lake! He must have spent his ammo. I can barely get my damaged bird to lumber over the cliff wall, my landing gear and flaps are inop. As gently as I can I coax her down onto the runway and slowly we skid to a stop.
Now all is quiet, no drone of the engine, no more creaking of metal stressed to breaking point, no tracers whizzing past my head. I notice I'm sweating as I bring up my clipboard, I think to myself "Take that, I DENIED you your kill!". I click "End Sortie".
No kills were scored, no perk points awarded. So what, you say. What's your point you ask? Well, for 120 seconds, that plane and I were one, for 120 seconds I was as in the moment and as in control as you can be. I flew the best that I possibly could for 120 seconds.
And now, the work day is done, the supper dishes put away and my story is told. Now it's time to climb into the cockpit, fire up the engine and lift up into the big blue to look for that next 120 seconds.
