Disclaimer - Parts of this AAR have been, how shall we say it... exaggerated. From what I've read, real WWII pilots would exaggerate their claims, so I did in the story. (Actually, I didn't have my film on, so I wasn't exactly sure how many 109s came in on us, and who if anyone got kills.) Here it is!
The sun was already warming up the English countryside as the crews of the 332nd Flying Mongrels left the briefing room. The target for the B-17’s was an airfield on the coast of the English Channel west of Amiens. The pilots of the 332nd were confident their mission would be a success, even without a pure fighter escort. Allied command felt that combat air patrols east of the bombers would intercept any Luftwaffe fighters before they were close enough to pester the American bombers. The 332nd’s flight plan took them south from their field near Oxford over the Isle of Wight. They would continue south and approach the target from almost due west, hoping any German sweeps would be conducting farther to the north. The ground crews had the seven Fortresses prepped and ready to go. The crew of the Sarah Jeanne would be lead, followed by the Punkiedoodle, the ShowMe, the Silver Dagger, the Wicked Witch, the Flying Pig and the rookie plane Ruby’s Raiders.
The warm wind was favorable to the mission, blowing steadily from the south. The massive Forts lined up on the runway and taxiways. Colonel Glazier gave the command to roll, as his own Sarah Jeanne began to roll down the runway. The other B-17’s followed in line, and the formation began to coalesce as the Forts climbed to the south. The 332nd would keep a moderately loose formation on the climb south, with the intention of tightening it up for mutual support as they reached cruising altitude. Light chatter echoed through the steel bodies of the Fortresses.
Frantic calls bursted out over the Allied comm bands!!! One of the fighter sweeps had engaged 109s over the English Channel. Their position was well away from the 332nd. However, it seemed that the Forts were about to get some company of their own…
“I’ve got cons 9 o’clock, sir,” reported Captain Elliot, the commander of the ShowMe.
“Roger that, contacts east of us.”
The Sarah Jeanne’s radio operator chimed in. “Sir, those cons probable bandits. The nearest Allied fighter squadron is at least 15 minutes away from us.”
“Tighten up, folks. Looks like Jerry got a little lucky and found us early.”
“They look like 109’s!” exclaimed 2nd Lieutenant Haynes of the Silver Dagger. “They’re hunting us like wolves hunt sheep, circling and waiting…”
The 109’s broke into two elements, and began to dive in on the group. The gunners of the Fortresses fired off a few rounds to check for gun jams, and then waited for the inevitable clash…
Tracers from the first 109 zipped past the frame of the Flying Pig. Excited chatter engulfed the radio lines, as the gunners and pilots tried to track all the targets.
“We’re hit and trailing fire!” cried out Airman Johnson of the Flying Pig.
The other element of the 109’s dove in on another target, scoring hits on vital points of the wing of the ShowMe. The Fortress immediately began to roll and twist, as the crew scrambled to bail out of the mortally damaged plane.
The 109’s climbed back up to set up another attack.
Colonel Glazier began to comment “They’re playing it smart; climbing back…” An explosion over the comm cut him off. The fuel lines on the Flying Pig had ignited and destroyed the B-17.
The 109’s dove back down into the group, sunlight glinting off their canopies. The sky once more lit up with tracers as the fighters blasted through the remaining five bombers. Two 109’s did not pull up from the attack, and plummeted towards the sea. They had taken their toll, however, as the Ruby’s Raiders drifted downward, her engines emitting fire, and thick, billowing black smoke.
The remaining 332nd had lost the cohesion of their formation, and Lt. Col Jamison’s Punkiedoodle was left exposed. The two 109 pilots took notice of this, and their planes almost had a look of stark determination on their cowls. They attacked with delight on the lone B-17, dropping in from above her. The Punkiedoodle’s gunners were ready, and they scored a hit on one of the 109’s taking her out of the fight. The second 109 was more successful. Her rounds found their mark on the Punkiedoodle, and the crew was forced to begin bailing out.
The remaining 109 must have taken a round or two in the engine, for she was beginning to leak oil. The pilot decided against trying to take on the last 3 buffs, and headed off south ahead of the 332nd. Col Glazier decided to follow the 109 for a while, in hopes that the pilot would radio his position and the bomber’s flight path. The German intelligence might decide that the attack would continue the south, instead of the true target to the east. The 109 eventually drifted out of visual range and the bombers turned to the east towards the airfield. The 332nd briefly thought they saw another con far to their southwest. Nothing came from that area, so their ruse on the 109 seemed to have been effective.
The B-17s leveled off at 24,000 ft some 25 miles from the coast of France. To their dismay, there was a weather front ahead of them.
“We’ll have to dive through the clouds, men. Keep your speed below 280 and level off as soon as you get under the cloud layer. Looks like it should clear about 14,000ft. If it doesn’t, do go below 10,000ft” ordered Col Glazier. “Wicked Witch, take designated target #2; Silver Dagger you’ve got target #3. Ok, gents, let’s get below these clouds. Stay close, but not too close.”
The massive Fortresses nosed down and began pushing through the cloud layer. Creaking noises could be heard as the planes approached 275 mph. The clouds obscured all visual cues, including seeing the other Forts.
“I’ve broken through at 13,500 ft, sir!” reported Lt Haynes.
“Roger, Silver Dagger, I’ve got you about a mile to my 1 o’clock,” replied Glazier. “Do you have the field in sight, yet? We’ll follow you in.”
“Negative, navigator tells me it should be just… visual on the field! Lining up, heading 100, and turning control over to the bombardier.”
“Roger that. Roman, get the Wicked Witch lined up on Silver Dagger’s heading.”
Flak began to engulf the three bombers. The planes shook from the close explosions, and rattled when the shrapnel pelted their skins. The bombardiers nudged the planes here and there, getting the targets lined up. The rest of the crews held their breaths, waiting desperately to hear two little words…
“Bombs away!!!”
“Keep on current heading, we’ll need to swing around if we don’t get good hits…”
The tail gunner of the Silver Dagger called in. “I’ve got secondary explosions, sir!”
“Good hit from the Silver Dagger,” Haynes exclaimed.
“We hit ours too, sir,” Airman Roman reported.
“All targets damaged and on fire. Form on me, and let’s head back to England before Jerry gets up here. Drop remaining bombs to lighten up”
The 332nd turned to the northwest. The mustered all the speed they could get out of the massive birds, hoping to get home before encountering any more fighters.
“Blast it! Contacts 9 o’clock high! Here we go again…”
“Wait!! They look like Jugs!”
A group of P-47’s had found the Forts and set up to escort them home.
Roman said with a breath of relief in his voice, “ah, they look like the Fat Drunk Bastards!”
“Good to see little friends, guys. We’re heading to Brighton to land. Command says to set ‘em down sooner than later, and we’ll haul ‘em by train if we have to back to Oxford!” Col Glazier radioed to the escorts.
“Roger that, 332nd. We’ll swing back to the east and make sure no Jerries are trying to catch up”
A few tense moments passed as no word came back from the Bastards. The crews began to get anxious, knowing England should be coming up over the horizon at any moment.
“Visual on the coast of England! We’re about 15 minutes out from Brighton.”
Calls came in over the comm. The P-47s had run into a group of 109s.
“Good luck, Bastards. Thanks for the protection.”
The three remaining B-17’s of the 332nd Flying Mongrels approached the field at Brighton. Flaps were extended and gear lowered as the bombers turned to land on the north-south runway. The planes touched down smoothly in line. The mission objectives had been achieved; the targets were destroyed. The crews received the somber news that the Bastards were downed, although inflicting heavy losses on the 109s. Allied command would deem the mission a success. The crews of the Sarah Jeanne, Silver Dagger and Wicked Witch did not quite agree with the assessment as they toasted the Punkiedoodle, ShowMe, Ruby’s Raiders and the Flying Pig, as well as the lost Bastards, over several bottles of scotch…
daddog – Sarah Jeanne
ghosth – Punkiedoodle
ozark B-17 – ShowMe
nifty – Silver Dagger
deselys – Wicked Witch
puke – The Flying Pig
banana – Ruby’s Raiders
