Here's a cool story about an American fighter ace during WWII named Bruce Carr(who died in 1996). It's kind of a long story, but pretty amazing stuff.
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The dead chicken was starting to smell.
>
> After carrying it with him, for several days, 20-year-old Bruce Carr still
> hadn't found a way to cook it without fearing that the enemy would see or
> smell his fire. Now, as hungry as he was, he couldn't bring himself to
eat
> the stinking chicken .. so he finally tossed it.
>
> Resigning himself to what appeared to be an unavoidable fate, he turned in
> the direction of the nearest German airfield. Even POW's get to eat. At
> least sometimes. They constantly aren't dodging from tree to tree, ditch
to
> culvert. He was exhausted and tired of trying to find cover .. where there
> was no cover.
>
> Carr hadn't realized that Czechoslovakian forests had trees but no
> underbrush. He found that out, when he struggled out of his parachute,
then
> dragged it into the woods to hide it. During the many times he had been
> screaming along at treetop level in his Mustang Angels Playmate the
forests
> and fields were nothing more than a background blur behind the
> Messerchmitts, Focke-Wulfs, trains and trucks he quite often had in his
gun
> sights.
>
> The instant German antiaircraft shrapnel ripped into his Mustang's
> liquid-cooled engine, he knew he was in trouble. Serious trouble.
>
> Clouds of coolant steam hissed through jagged holes in the cowling
signaling
> Carr that he was about to ride down a silk elevator .. and face a very
long
> walk back to his squadron.
> Being red-hot fighter pilot, however, was absolutely no use to him as he
lay
> shivering in the Czechoslovakian forest. He knew he would die if he didn't
> get some food and shelter soon.
>
> "I knew where the German airfield was because I'd flown over it .. so I
> headed in that direction to surrender. I intended to walk in the main
gate.
> But, it was late afternoon, and I had second thoughts. So, I decided to
wait
> there and hide in the woods until morning.
>
> "While I was lying there, I saw a crew working on an Fw 190 right at the
> edge of the woods.
>
> When they were done, I assumed, just like you assume in America, that the
> thing was all finished. The cowling's on. The engine has been run. The
fuel
> truck has been there. It's ready to go.
>
> Maybe a dumb assumption for a young fellow, but I assumed so. So, I
> carefully walked over, got in the airplane and spent the night all
hunkered
> down inside the Focke-Wulf's cockpit.
>
> "Before dawn, in the twilight, I started studying the cockpit. I can't
read
> German, so I couldn't decipher dials and I could not find the normal
> switches like there were in American airplanes.
>
> I kept looking , and on the right side was a smooth panel. Under this
was a
> compartment with something I would classify as circuit breakers. They
didn't
> look like ours, but they weren't regular looking switches either.
>
> "I began to think that the Germans were probably no different from the
> Americans in that they would turn off all the switches when finished with
> the airplane. I had no earthly idea what those circuit breakers or
switches
> did, but I reversed every one of them. If they were off, that would turn
> them on. When I did that, the gauges showed there was electricity on the
> airplane.
>
> "I'd seen this metal T-handle on the right side of the cockpit. It had a
> word on it that looked enough like the word 'starter' for me to it was.
But
> .. when I pulled it, nothing happened. Nothing.
>
> "But then, I thought: if pulling doesn't work .. you PUSH. And when I did,
> an inertia starter started winding up. I let it go for a while, then
pulled
> on the same handle .. and the engine started."
>
> The sun had yet to make it over the far trees and the air base was just
> waking up, getting ready to go to war. The Fw 190 was one of many
dispersed
> throughout the woods. And at that time of the morning, the sound of the
> engine must have been heard by many Germans not far away on the main
base.
>
> But even if they heard it, there was no reason for alarm. The last thing
> they expected was one of their fighters taxiing out with a weary Mustang
> pilot at the controls. Carr, however, wanted to take no chances.
>
> "The taxiway came out of the woods and turned right towards the airfield.
On
> the left side of the taxiway, there was a shallow ditch and a space where
> there had been two hangars. The foundation slabs were there, but the
hangars
> were gone, and the immediate area had been cleaned of all debris."
>
> "I didn't want to taxi on to the airfield, so I plowed down through the
> ditch, and when the airplane started up the other side, I shoved the
> throttle forward and took off right between where the two hangars had
been.
>
> At that point, Bruce Carr had no time to look around to see what effect
the
> sight of a Focke-Wulf erupting from the trees had on the Germans.
> Undoubtedly, they were confused, but not unduly concerned. After all, it
was
> probably just one of their maverick pilots doing something against the
> rules. They didn't know it was one of OUR maverick pilots doing something
> against the rules.
>
> Carr had problems more immediate than a bunch of confused Germans. He had
> just pulled off the perfect plane-jacking. But he knew nothing about the
> airplane .. couldn't read the placards .. and had 200 miles of enemy
> territory to cross.
>
> At home, there would be hundreds of his friends and fellow warriors, all
of
> whom were, at that moment, preparing their guns to shoot at airplanes
marked
> with swastikas and crosses. But Carr wasn't thinking that far ahead.
First,
> he had to get there, and that meant learning how to fly the airplane.
>
> "There were two buttons behind the throttle and three buttons behind those
> two. I wasn't sure what to push, so I pushed one button and nothing
> happened. I pushed the other and the gear started up. As soon as I felt it
> coming up and I cleared the fence at the edge of the German field, I took
> the airplane down little lower .. and headed for home.
>
> "As I headed for home, I pushed one of three more buttons, and the flaps
> came part way down. I pushed the button next to it, and they came up
again.
> So I knew how to get the flaps down. But that was all I knew. "I couldn't
> make heads or tails out of any of the German instruments. I couldn't even
> figure out how to change the prop pitch, but I didn't sweat that, because
> props are full forward when you shut down anyway, and it was running
fine.
>
> As Carr streaked cross fields and among the trees only a few feet off the
> ground. At something over 350 miles an hour and below tree-top level, he
was
> trying to be a difficult target.
>
> But as he crossed the lines, he wasn't being difficult enough. "There was
no
> doubt when I crossed the lines because every SOB and his brother who had a
> .50-caliber machine gun shot at me. Bullets were coming from all over the
> place, and I had no idea which way to go. So, I didn't do much dodging
> because I was just as likely to fly into other bullets."
>
> When he hopped over a last familiar row of trees and he found himself
> crossing his own airfield. Carr pulled up hard to set up for landing, his
> mind was focused on flying the airplane.
>
> "I pitched up .. pulled the throttle back and punched the buttons I knew
> would put the gear and flaps down. I felt the flaps come down .. but the
> gear wasn't doing anything. I came around and pitched up again, still
> punching the gear button. Nothing was happening, and I was really
> frustrated."
>
> Carr had been so intent on figuring out his airplane problems, he forgot
he
> was putting on a very tempting show for the ground crew.
>
> "As I started up the last time, I saw the air defense guys ripping the
tarps
> off the quad .50 caliber guns that ringed the field. I hadn't noticed the
> machine guns before, but I was sure noticing them right then. So, I roared
> around in as tight a pattern as I could fly and chopped the throttle. I
slid
> to a halt on the runway, and it was a nice belly job, if I say so
myself".
>
> His antics over the runway had drawn quite a crowd, and the airplane had
> barely stopped sliding before there were MPs up on the wings trying to
drag
> him out of the airplane by his arms. They didn't realize he was still
> strapped in.
>
> "I started throwing some good Anglo-Saxon swear words at them, and they
let
> loose while I tried to get the seat belt undone, but my hands wouldn't
work
> and I couldn't do it. So then they started pulling on me again because
they
> still were not convinced that I was an American.
>
> "I was yelling and hollering. Then, suddenly, they let go, and another
face
> dropped down into the cockpit in front of mine. It was my Group Commander,
> George R. Bickel. He said, " Carr, where in the hell have you been. And
what
> have you been doing now?"
>
> For several days after the ordeal, he had difficulty eating and sleeping,
> but when things again fell into place, he took some of the other pilots
out
> to show them the airplane and how it worked. One of them pointed out a
small
> handle under the glare shield that he hadn't noticed before. When he
pulled
> it, it unlocked the landing gear. The handle was a separate, mechanical
> uplock. Well, at least, he had figured out the important things.
>
> Carr finished the war with 14 aerial victories after flying 172 missions,
> which included three bailouts because of ground fire.
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