It was a very cool winter morning when Gunther Engleburt rolled out of his bed. The sun had not yet risen, but it was time to get ready for the long grueling day ahead. Most of the pilots II Gruppe Jagdgeschwader 26 were already awake eating breakfast, while the ground crew was clearing off the runway, and making sure the Focke Wulf's were ready for the day. After breakfast Oberstleutnant Priller called all of the Gruppenkommandeure's together and briefed them on what he believed would happen today.
Hauptmann Engleburt's II Gruppe was ordered with a patrol about 80km Southwest of Bonn. His Gruppe was ordered to attack any allied bombers or jabos, and supporting the II Gruppe would be 109's of JG53. Engleburt himself had orginally been posted to JG53 in February of 1942, and from there learned his trade as fighter pilot. Since his time with JG53, Engleburt had made a name for himself. He had shot down 113 fighters (97 on the Eastern Front & 16 on the Western Front), had been shot down four times, and wounded twice.
After breakfast, Engleburt, climbed into his Dora, had a chat with his ground crew before starting his Dora. Engleburt missed flying the nimble Bf-109, but there was something about the Focke-Wulf that attracted him. Was it her sleek design, or the deadly firepower she carried? Perhaps it was the roll right, which in the right hands could be used to dive in on a flight of allied fighters and disappear again in the clouds, or roll away from the numerous allied fighters, which prowled the sky like a pack of hungry wolves wanting to kill. Regardless, Engleburt knew he possessed a skill, which in the skies above Engleburt and the Dora become one.
The sky was a deathly gray that cold December morning, perhaps foreshadowing the events that would follow throughout the day. Engleburt's flight of twelve Dora's cruised at 18,000 feet. He knew the allied forces were out there, but where. Luckily for him he couldn't see the carnage happening below as American and German troops clashed in heavy hand to hand fighting, on the cold, wet, blood covered snow. Rifles cracked, machine gunners fired till their barrels were too hot, and bayonets and fighting knives plunged into the tender pink flesh that was sometimes exposed, or hidden under layers of clothes. Perhaps in an alternate world these boys would be sharing some drinks together, maybe even playing futbol or baseball in the snow. Instead they were slowly bleeding out, crying for their loved ones, or fighting to survive by whatever means necessary.
Up in the heavens though, Engleburt, spotted contrails just to his low 11' o clock. The FW-190's of JG26, and the Bf-109's of JG53, turned to meet the enemy head on.
As Engleburt increased his throttle to full power, he dived slightly to build speed and to line up his shot on the incoming bombers. American B-26's. Engleburt recognized their outline, and their twin engines. Above them, a mixed escort of P-47's & P-51's. Engleburt closed in on the outermost B-26 in the formation. With both aircraft headed right for one another Engleburt would have to make a very quick firing pass, and a split-second to snap roll and break down, or to go vertical and come behind the soon to be diving allied fighters.
Engleburt closed faster, the B-26 filled his sights. The top turret gunner began to fire, but his lead was too short. Engleburt fired a very short burst and pulled up. What Engleburt did not know was that his round had torn into the nose of the aircraft sending shrapnel and machine gun bullets through the nose of the B-26. The pilot was killed instantly, the bombardier wounded, the Co-Pilot had lost his leg below the knee, and the top turret gunner was slumped forward in his seat. The co-pilot held the bird airborne for as long as he could before slipping into unconsciousness.
Engleburt looked back and saw the American plane begin a very shallow dive before dipping into the grey abyss below. He wrapped his 190 above the bomber formation and searched for his next victim. With individual dogfights breaking out below the sky was filled with aircraft. Silver specks of American fighters mingled with the Luftwaffe Winter grey fighters. Engleburt dipped his wing and saw a lone P-51 flying in a straight line trailing two Bf-109's. He dived, and quickly closed the gap on the American fighter. Engleburt closed in, the P-51 filled his sight, and Engleburt gently squeezed the trigger. His cannon rounds exploded behind the canopy, in the fuselage, and in the nose, while is machine gun bullets punched through the fighter tearing fuel & oil lines, while severing hydraulic lines. The unsuspecting American tried to break away, but couldn't. His engine burst into flames. The smoke and the heat quickly began to feel the canopy as the American struggled to jump.
Engleburt watched as the American released his canopy and struggled to escape the orange flames. His worst fear was being trapped and being burned alive. The american fighter began to dive and pinned the pilot against his burning craft.
Engleburt looked for his next victim. Suddenly a flash caught his eye. Two P-51's were diving quickly. The flash was a tracer round. Engleburt quickly rolled, using his roll rate to his advantage, and split s'd into the grey abyss.
Hope you all enjoyed the reading. Will you come join us over the Hinterland? Fly allied or axis, the fun will be found on both sides! 
