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General Forums => Aces High General Discussion => Topic started by: SkyRock on October 18, 2007, 10:25:20 AM
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Any of you AH historians care to share some real life stories of the greatest dogfights ever in WWII. I am talking about Robert Johnson type stuff or how someone survived the most outnumbered odds. Please share your history.:aok
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Originally posted by SkyRock
Any of you AH historians care to share some real life stories of the greatest dogfights ever in WWII. I am talking about Robert Johnson type stuff or how someone survived the most outnumbered odds. Please share your history.:aok
OK. This one may remind you of some good fights you've had in AH. Except it was for real, of course.
From JG 26 - Top Guns of the Luftwaffe, by Donald L. Caldwell (Ivy Books, New York 1991), ISBN 0-8041-1050-6 (First Ballentine Edition, June 1993), at page 276:
[The following occurred on the afternoon of September 17, 1944 - the first day of Operation Market-Garden]:
The Third Gruppe [of JG26] also fought a battle with Mustangs, with ruinous consequences for itself. In mid-afternoon, Major Mietusch assembled about fifteen Bf 109s of his scattered command and headed for the landing zones, climbing all the way. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and there was a continuous layer of thin cloud at 15,000 feet. The Germans climbed through it, and then, while above the Dutch-German border, Mietusch spotted a squadron of P-51s below them. He radioed, “Otter Mietusch, I am attacking!” and dove through the cloud. His first burst of fire destroyed the Number 4 plane of the trailing cover flight. Oblt. Schild hit the Number 2 Mustang’s drop tank, and it dove away trailing a solid sheet of flame. The events of the next few minutes are best stated in the words of the leader of that P-51 flight, Lt. William Beyer of the 361st Fighter Group’s 376th Squadron:
* * *
I was the flight leader at the tail end of the squadron. We had flown back and forth between checkpoints for a couple of hours. My wingmen apparently got tired of looking around for enemy aircraft. Only by the grace of God did I happen to look behind us at that particular moment, because in no more than a couple of seconds the enemy would have shot the whole flight down.
I saw about fifteen German fighters closing fast with all their guns firing. I immediately broke 180 degrees and called out the enemy attack. My Number 4 man went down in flames, and my wingman got hit and spun out. I headed straight back into the German fighters and went through the whole group, just about in the center of them. We were separated by only a few feet...
I immediately made another 180-degree turn, picked out one of them, and started to chase it. The rest of the fighters zoomed back up into the clouds and disappeared. We made many violent high-G maneuvers with wide open throttle. When I started to close and fire, I noticed that his plane seemed to have stopped in the air. I had to decide whether to shoot and run, or to try to stop my plane. I cut throttle, lowered flaps, and dropped my wheels - I still kept closing. I had to fishtail and do flat weaves to stay behind him. This maneuver was repeated three times, and on one occasion I almost cut his tail off, we were so close...
Then we started into steep dives. The last one was at around 1,000 feet with flaps down. This last maneuver was deadly and nerve-racking. He went straight down toward the ground, hoping I couldn’t pull out. If I pulled out early, he could have come in behind me, so I stayed with him. If we had had our wheels down when we pulled out, we would have been on the ground.
It was after this pullout that I finally was able to get my sights lined up and fire at him. I must have hit him with the first burst, because he kept turning and went into the ground and broke up. Knowing the caliber of this German pilot, I am sure that if I had taken the time to get off some shots when he was slowing down he could have possibly shot me down or made a getaway. My other combat victories were not nearly as spectacular as this one, and it is with this in mind that I can recall it so vividly.
* * *
Lt Beyer’s victim was Klaus Mietusch. Mietusch was one of the most fascinating individuals in the Geschwader’s history. He was a career officer, had joined the Geschwader in 1938, and was its senior pilot in length of service when he died at age twenty-five. His early combat career was marked by a seemingly endless series of failures and frustrations. A member of the successful 7th Staffel under Muencheberg, he did not come into his own until he succeeded to the command and led it on detached assignment in Russia in 1943. He was the opposite of the typical extroverted, self-confident fighter pilot. He compensated for what he believed to be his lack of ability by an act of will. According to Priller, Mietusch’s combat motto was, “Bore in, until the enemy is as large as a barn door in your sights.” Again quoting Priller, duty as Mietusch’s wingman was an “unforgettable experience.” Mietusch was shot down ten times and was wounded at least four times. He was said never to have turned down a mission, and he had logged an incredible 452 combat sorties at the time of his death. His seventy-two victories brought the award of the Oak Leaves to his Knights’s Cross, two months after his death.
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The Only VC received by the RAF during the Battle of Britain
James Nicolson's
Victoria Cross
During the Battle of Britain many brave young pilots were to receive awards of distinction for their actions, but only one was to receive the Victoria Cross
On August 16th 1940, 23-year-old Flight Lieutenant James Nicolson of No. 249 Squadron was scrambled from Boscombe Down, Wiltshire, flying Hurricane P3576 of Red Section with Squadron Leader Eric King and Pilot Officer Martyn King
The pilots were to intercept and attack BF110's approaching Southampton from Gosport where a large raid was building up. The invaders had been sighted and Red Section dived towards the BF110's when, suddenly, a Staffel of BF109's jumped them from above. All three Hurricanes were hit
Squadron Leader King, the least badly damaged, broke off his attack and returned to Boscombe Down. Pilot Officer King abandoned his burning Hurricane and baled out
Four cannon shells hit Flight Lieutenant Nicolson's aircraft. One destroyed the perspex hood subsequently damaging his left eye and temporarily blinding him with blood. The reserve petrol tank was also struck along with his left leg. The Hurricane was now ablaze with the instrument panel melting, his hands blistering from the heat and his trousers on fire
Whilst preparing to bale out, a BF110 appeared in front of him. He slid back into his burning cockpit and continued flying the Hurricane after the enemy. Closing in, Nicolson opened fire and although the BF110 took evasive action to avoid the bullets, it was sent crashing into the sea
Finally baling out of his stricken aircraft, Nicolson had sustained severe burns to his hands, parts of his face, his eyelid was torn and his foot badly wounded. His ordeal however, was not quite over
While descending towards the ground some Local Defence Volunteers (LVD), under orders, opened fire with rifles at what they believed to be enemy parachutists. Pilot Officer King had his parachute badly damaged and plummeted to his death. Flight Lieutenant Nicolson, in great pain, landed alive with further wounds received from shotgun pellets
He was rushed to The Royal Southampton Hospital where he made a full recovery and returned to active duty during late 1941
His bravery and disregard for his own life in defence of his country earned him the Victoria Cross, which was awarded on 15th November 1940
May the actions of Flight Lieutenant James Nicolson and The Few never be forgotten
http://www.battle-of-britain.com/BoB2/Battle_personnel/VC/victoria_cross.htm
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Originally posted by Oldman731
From JG 26 - Top Guns of the Luftwaffe, by Donald L. Caldwell (Ivy Books, New York 1991), ISBN 0-8041-1050-6 (First Ballentine Edition, June 1993)
Great book! 1 of my faves.:aok
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I had a great dogfight with my B17 and a couple of 110's over a town last night!
999000
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Originally posted by 999000
I had a great dogfight with my B17 and a couple of 110's over a town last night!
999000
Some how i doubt that the 110 pilots would describe it that way :p
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The death of Walter Nowotny.
November 8, 1944
Adolph Galland, Luftwaffe General of Fighters, visited Achmer for an inspection. Nowotny was going to give Galland his pilots' flight reports. A flight of B-17 bombers was reported, so the unit took off, about six jets in the first wave, then another. The Fw-190Ds were waiting on the runway cover their return of the jets. Galland was in the operations shack, monitoring the pilots' radio transmissions. Several bombers were called out as shot down, and Nowotny radioed that he was approaching. The flight leader on the ground, Hans Dortenmann, requested permission to take off to assist, but Nowotny said no, to wait. The defensive anti-aircraft battery opened fire on a few P-51 Mustangs that approached the field, but they were chased away. The jets were coming in.
One Me-262 had been shot down, and Nowotny reported an engine failure before making a garbled transmission referring to “burning”. Galland watched Nowi's approach, heard the sound of a jet engine, and saw his Me 262 A-1a (W.Nr. 110 400) “White 8” dive vertically out of the clouds and crash at Epe, 2.5 kilometres east of Hesepe. The explosions rocked the air, and only a column of black smoke rose from behind the trees. The wreckage was Nowotny's plane. After sifting through it, the only salvageable things found were his left hand and pieces of his Diamonds decoration.
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I've posted this before but it's got to be one of the best stories ever.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_32ZspW80v4&mode=related&search=
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This one time, at band camp....
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My grand dad has a story as a Jug pilot. I will have to dig out his diary to get it straight. It was the first encounter he had with a 262. He survived it but got jumped by 190's and limped it home. continued.....
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Mussie .. Well they both did go down....love you man
!
999000
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Originally posted by Oldman731
OK. This one may remind you of some good fights you've had in AH. Except it was for real, of course.
From JG 26 - Top Guns of the Luftwaffe, by Donald L. Caldwell (Ivy Books, New York 1991), ISBN 0-8041-1050-6 (First Ballentine Edition, June 1993), at page 276:
[The following occurred on the afternoon of September 17, 1944 - the first day of Operation Market-Garden]:
The Third Gruppe [of JG26] also fought a battle with Mustangs, with ruinous consequences for itself. In mid-afternoon, Major Mietusch assembled about fifteen Bf 109s of his scattered command and headed for the landing zones, climbing all the way. The weather had taken a turn for the worse, and there was a continuous layer of thin cloud at 15,000 feet. The Germans climbed through it, and then, while above the Dutch-German border, Mietusch spotted a squadron of P-51s below them. He radioed, “Otter Mietusch, I am attacking!” and dove through the cloud. His first burst of fire destroyed the Number 4 plane of the trailing cover flight. Oblt. Schild hit the Number 2 Mustang’s drop tank, and it dove away trailing a solid sheet of flame. The events of the next few minutes are best stated in the words of the leader of that P-51 flight, Lt. William Beyer of the 361st Fighter Group’s 376th Squadron:
* * *
I was the flight leader at the tail end of the squadron. We had flown back and forth between checkpoints for a couple of hours. My wingmen apparently got tired of looking around for enemy aircraft. Only by the grace of God did I happen to look behind us at that particular moment, because in no more than a couple of seconds the enemy would have shot the whole flight down.
I saw about fifteen German fighters closing fast with all their guns firing. I immediately broke 180 degrees and called out the enemy attack. My Number 4 man went down in flames, and my wingman got hit and spun out. I headed straight back into the German fighters and went through the whole group, just about in the center of them. We were separated by only a few feet...
I immediately made another 180-degree turn, picked out one of them, and started to chase it. The rest of the fighters zoomed back up into the clouds and disappeared. We made many violent high-G maneuvers with wide open throttle. When I started to close and fire, I noticed that his plane seemed to have stopped in the air. I had to decide whether to shoot and run, or to try to stop my plane. I cut throttle, lowered flaps, and dropped my wheels - I still kept closing. I had to fishtail and do flat weaves to stay behind him. This maneuver was repeated three times, and on one occasion I almost cut his tail off, we were so close...
Then we started into steep dives. The last one was at around 1,000 feet with flaps down. This last maneuver was deadly and nerve-racking. He went straight down toward the ground, hoping I couldn’t pull out. If I pulled out early, he could have come in behind me, so I stayed with him. If we had had our wheels down when we pulled out, we would have been on the ground.
It was after this pullout that I finally was able to get my sights lined up and fire at him. I must have hit him with the first burst, because he kept turning and went into the ground and broke up. Knowing the caliber of this German pilot, I am sure that if I had taken the time to get off some shots when he was slowing down he could have possibly shot me down or made a getaway. My other combat victories were not nearly as spectacular as this one, and it is with this in mind that I can recall it so vividly.
* * *
Lt Beyer’s victim was Klaus Mietusch. Mietusch was one of the most fascinating individuals in the Geschwader’s history. He was a career officer, had joined the Geschwader in 1938, and was its senior pilot in length of service when he died at age twenty-five. His early combat career was marked by a seemingly endless series of failures and frustrations. A member of the successful 7th Staffel under Muencheberg, he did not come into his own until he succeeded to the command and led it on detached assignment in Russia in 1943. He was the opposite of the typical extroverted, self-confident fighter pilot. He compensated for what he believed to be his lack of ability by an act of will. According to Priller, Mietusch’s combat motto was, “Bore in, until the enemy is as large as a barn door in your sights.” Again quoting Priller, duty as Mietusch’s wingman was an “unforgettable experience.” Mietusch was shot down ten times and was wounded at least four times. He was said never to have turned down a mission, and he had logged an incredible 452 combat sorties at the time of his death. His seventy-two victories brought the award of the Oak Leaves to his Knights’s Cross, two months after his death.
:aok tnx!
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Originally posted by SteffK
The Only VC received by the RAF during the Battle of Britain
James Nicolson's
Victoria Cross
During the Battle of Britain many brave young pilots were to receive awards of distinction for their actions, but only one was to receive the Victoria Cross
On August 16th 1940, 23-year-old Flight Lieutenant James Nicolson of No. 249 Squadron was scrambled from Boscombe Down, Wiltshire, flying Hurricane P3576 of Red Section with Squadron Leader Eric King and Pilot Officer Martyn King
The pilots were to intercept and attack BF110's approaching Southampton from Gosport where a large raid was building up. The invaders had been sighted and Red Section dived towards the BF110's when, suddenly, a Staffel of BF109's jumped them from above. All three Hurricanes were hit
Squadron Leader King, the least badly damaged, broke off his attack and returned to Boscombe Down. Pilot Officer King abandoned his burning Hurricane and baled out
Four cannon shells hit Flight Lieutenant Nicolson's aircraft. One destroyed the perspex hood subsequently damaging his left eye and temporarily blinding him with blood. The reserve petrol tank was also struck along with his left leg. The Hurricane was now ablaze with the instrument panel melting, his hands blistering from the heat and his trousers on fire
Whilst preparing to bale out, a BF110 appeared in front of him. He slid back into his burning cockpit and continued flying the Hurricane after the enemy. Closing in, Nicolson opened fire and although the BF110 took evasive action to avoid the bullets, it was sent crashing into the sea
Finally baling out of his stricken aircraft, Nicolson had sustained severe burns to his hands, parts of his face, his eyelid was torn and his foot badly wounded. His ordeal however, was not quite over
While descending towards the ground some Local Defence Volunteers (LVD), under orders, opened fire with rifles at what they believed to be enemy parachutists. Pilot Officer King had his parachute badly damaged and plummeted to his death. Flight Lieutenant Nicolson, in great pain, landed alive with further wounds received from shotgun pellets
He was rushed to The Royal Southampton Hospital where he made a full recovery and returned to active duty during late 1941
His bravery and disregard for his own life in defence of his country earned him the Victoria Cross, which was awarded on 15th November 1940
May the actions of Flight Lieutenant James Nicolson and The Few never be forgotten
http://www.battle-of-britain.com/BoB2/Battle_personnel/VC/victoria_cross.htm
:aok tnx!
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Originally posted by 999000
I had a great dogfight with my B17 and a couple of 110's over a town last night!
999000
Was asking for real life WWII stories peeps had read about!:aok
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Originally posted by P47Gra
My grand dad has a story as a Jug pilot. I will have to dig out his diary to get it straight. It was the first encounter he had with a 262. He survived it but got jumped by 190's and limped it home. continued.....
Can't wait!:aok
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Originally posted by SkyRock
Any of you AH historians care to share some real life stories of the greatest dogfights ever in WWII. I am talking about Robert Johnson type stuff or how someone survived the most outnumbered odds. Please share your history.:aok
Billy Barker?
As he climbed into the clear air he spotted a large German aircraft over the lines doing reconnaissance of the area. He couldn't resist and went up after it over La Foret de Mormal. He caught up to it at 22,000 feet and found the crew to be very good. They easily manouevered to keep the rear gunner in position to fire at Barker, and he hit the Snipe several times. Using his deadly accuracy Barker circled away and came back at the plane and shot the gunner dead from 200 yards. Now he closed in for the kill and hit some vital components. The plane broke up and the pilot had a long drop to his death. But Barker made a mistake, like Richthofen and others, he became so involved in the fight that he didn't spot the Fokker DVII biplane climb up behind him. The first he knew about the other German aircraft was when an explosive bullet shattered the femur of his right leg. He immediately banked left, and began a circling fight with the Fokker. They lost considerable height before the Snipe outcircled the Fokker and Barker fired a burst into its gas tank, igniting the whole plane. However, Billy Barker's troubles were just being. He had dropped into the upper Jasta of an entire "circus" made up of nearly 60 Fokkers. They attacked from all sides and directions. The tiny Snipe was being chewed to shreds and he was hit in the left thigh. He fought back valiently, driving down two Fokkers in spins. Fainting from pain and blood loss his airplane fell out of control for several thousand feet. The rushing air revived him, and he halted his fall but he found that he had spun down into the middle Jasta. The fight started all over again, with his Snipe being shot up from all around. In despiration he picked out a nearby Fokker and charged it, firing all the time. Just as he reached the other aircraft it blew apart and fell away. His left elbow was hit by a bullet and shattered. Again he fainted from pain and shock and the Snipe fell into a spin. He fell a long ways this time but eventually came to and managed somehow to pull out of his dive and got onto the tail of a Fokker in the lower level Jasta. He shot it down in flames. He headed for the Allied lines but was intercepted by a German flight. He charged at them and broke up their formation and turned again for the lines. His gas tank was shot away from under his seat and, amazingly, did not catch on fire. He had just enough strength to flip on a small reserve tank of fuel. He headed down as fast as the Snipe would go, nearly out of control and crashed at top speed, flipping the tough, little airplane onto its nose. Members of a Highland regiment pulled him from the wreckage and were amazed to find him alive. Thousands of British soldiers, including Canada's General Andrew McNaughton, had watched the whole fight and were cheering lustily as Barker obviously beat the entire German circus.
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Originally posted by Furball
Billy Barker?
Wow! Incredible!:aok
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This one that I've posted before is the one I always go back to.
June of 44, 1st FG P38s and Rumanian IAR80s that were misidentified as 190s in the mass of confusion. Quoting "Stub" Hatch who was in the thick of it.
"...At this point we were only 250-300 feet off the ground. As we pulled up
slightly to turn back north again somebody hollered, 'Cragmore Break left
for Chrissake!' I looked to my left and there was a whole flock of FW 190s
headed in from 10 O'clock high.
Our entire squadron broke to the left. As I continued around in my sharp
turn a lone 190 came out of nowhere and pulled right across in front of me.
He was so close -fifty to seventy five yards away- that all I could see in
my ring sight was the belly of his fuselage and the wing roots. I opened
fire with all four 50-caliber machine guns and the 20mm cannon and I just
damn near blew him in half. That saved my neck because when I rolled out
to shoot at the 190 I looked to my right and here comes another bunch of
190s from my 2 0'clock.
There were four 190s in the lead. I did the only thing I could do. I
turned sharply to my right, pulled up and fired again. The leader was
150-250 yards away, nearly head on and slightly to my left. I set the lead
190 on fire with a burst that went through the engine, left side of the
cockpit and the wing root. The 190 rolled to its right and passed me on my
left. I didn't see him crash but my gun camera film showed the fire and my
wingman Lt. Joe Morrison, confirmed that he crashed. Unfortunately the
other three 190s in that flight went right over my head and down on the
tails of Green flight leader and his wingman. Both were shot down.
As I continued my turn around to my right, my wingman stayed with me and I
saw another 190 right up behind one of my tentmates, Joe Jackson flying as
Cragmore white 4. I closed in on that one from about his five o'clock and
tried to shoot his canopy off from about 100 yards, but I was too late to
save Joe. By then the 190 had set Jackson's plane on fire. Joe's plane
rolled over and went in and he was killed. I finally did get a burst into
the cockpit area and the 190 followed Joe right into the ground.
I was still turning to the right, going quite slowly by then, because I had
my combat flaps down. I turned maybe another 90 degrees to my right when I
saw on of our 38s coming head on with a 190 on his tail. We were still
only around 300 feet and the P38 passed over me by fifty-seventy five feet.
I pulled up my nose and opened fire on the trailing 190 from a distance of
about 150-200 yards. He kept coming head on and I shot off the bottom half
of his engine. He nosed down still shooting at me and I had to dump the
yoke hard to miss him. He was burning when he went over me, by not more
then three feet and part of his right wing knocked about three inches off
the top of my left rudder.
As the 190 went over my head I saw three more making a pass at me from my
left. I turned so fast I lost Joe Morrison. I missed my shot that time
but when these three went over me they went after Morrison. I saw three
190s diving on another 38. I snap shot at the leader from about 90 degree
deflection. I hit his left wing and shredded the aileron. He fell off on
his wing and went in. He was so low there was no chance for him to
recover. I kept on going around to my left and shot at the second one with
was going away from me on my left. I hit him, but I am not sure if he went
in. I know I knocked a bunch of pieces off his cowling and fuselage but I
didn't have time to see what was happening to him.
I looked to my 2 o'clock and here comes another 190 right at me. It was
too late for me to turn. I just shut my eyes and hunched down in the
cockpit. I thought I had bought the farm right there. But he missed me,
he never even hit my ship. I think he missed me because I was going so
slowly. He overestimated my speed and was overleading me. I started to
turn his way and when he went behind me I continued on around. There was
another one out there so I closed in on him. I took aim, fired but my guns
only fired about ten rounds and quit. I was out of ammo. I damaged him a
bit but he flew away.
I cannot over emphasize what a melee that was. There were at least twelve
P38s in that little area, all of them at very low altitude. Somewhere
between 25 and 30 190s were also there. None of us were at more then 200
or 300 feet and some were quite a bit lower. The topography was kind of a
little hollow with hills on each side. It was by far the wildest melee I
saw in sixty odd combat missions I flew. I heard one guy who had been
wounded pretty badly, scream until he went in. It was a wild, wild few
minutes. And a few minutes is all it was. According to the mission report
from our debriefing the whole fight took something like three to six
minutes. I had no inkling of elapsed time while it was going on. I was too
damned busy trying to stay alive...."
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Originally posted by Guppy35
This one that I've posted before is the one I always go back to.
June of 44, 1st FG P38s and Rumanian IAR80s that were misidentified as 190s in the mass of confusion. Quoting "Stub" Hatch who was in the thick of it.
"...At this point we were only 250-300 feet off the ground. As we pulled up
slightly to turn back north again somebody hollered, 'Cragmore Break left
for Chrissake!' I looked to my left and there was a whole flock of FW 190s
headed in from 10 O'clock high.
Our entire squadron broke to the left. As I continued around in my sharp
turn a lone 190 came out of nowhere and pulled right across in front of me.
He was so close -fifty to seventy five yards away- that all I could see in
my ring sight was the belly of his fuselage and the wing roots. I opened
fire with all four 50-caliber machine guns and the 20mm cannon and I just
damn near blew him in half. That saved my neck because when I rolled out
to shoot at the 190 I looked to my right and here comes another bunch of
190s from my 2 0'clock.
There were four 190s in the lead. I did the only thing I could do. I
turned sharply to my right, pulled up and fired again. The leader was
150-250 yards away, nearly head on and slightly to my left. I set the lead
190 on fire with a burst that went through the engine, left side of the
cockpit and the wing root. The 190 rolled to its right and passed me on my
left. I didn't see him crash but my gun camera film showed the fire and my
wingman Lt. Joe Morrison, confirmed that he crashed. Unfortunately the
other three 190s in that flight went right over my head and down on the
tails of Green flight leader and his wingman. Both were shot down.
As I continued my turn around to my right, my wingman stayed with me and I
saw another 190 right up behind one of my tentmates, Joe Jackson flying as
Cragmore white 4. I closed in on that one from about his five o'clock and
tried to shoot his canopy off from about 100 yards, but I was too late to
save Joe. By then the 190 had set Jackson's plane on fire. Joe's plane
rolled over and went in and he was killed. I finally did get a burst into
the cockpit area and the 190 followed Joe right into the ground.
I was still turning to the right, going quite slowly by then, because I had
my combat flaps down. I turned maybe another 90 degrees to my right when I
saw on of our 38s coming head on with a 190 on his tail. We were still
only around 300 feet and the P38 passed over me by fifty-seventy five feet.
I pulled up my nose and opened fire on the trailing 190 from a distance of
about 150-200 yards. He kept coming head on and I shot off the bottom half
of his engine. He nosed down still shooting at me and I had to dump the
yoke hard to miss him. He was burning when he went over me, by not more
then three feet and part of his right wing knocked about three inches off
the top of my left rudder.
As the 190 went over my head I saw three more making a pass at me from my
left. I turned so fast I lost Joe Morrison. I missed my shot that time
but when these three went over me they went after Morrison. I saw three
190s diving on another 38. I snap shot at the leader from about 90 degree
deflection. I hit his left wing and shredded the aileron. He fell off on
his wing and went in. He was so low there was no chance for him to
recover. I kept on going around to my left and shot at the second one with
was going away from me on my left. I hit him, but I am not sure if he went
in. I know I knocked a bunch of pieces off his cowling and fuselage but I
didn't have time to see what was happening to him.
I looked to my 2 o'clock and here comes another 190 right at me. It was
too late for me to turn. I just shut my eyes and hunched down in the
cockpit. I thought I had bought the farm right there. But he missed me,
he never even hit my ship. I think he missed me because I was going so
slowly. He overestimated my speed and was overleading me. I started to
turn his way and when he went behind me I continued on around. There was
another one out there so I closed in on him. I took aim, fired but my guns
only fired about ten rounds and quit. I was out of ammo. I damaged him a
bit but he flew away.
I cannot over emphasize what a melee that was. There were at least twelve
P38s in that little area, all of them at very low altitude. Somewhere
between 25 and 30 190s were also there. None of us were at more then 200
or 300 feet and some were quite a bit lower. The topography was kind of a
little hollow with hills on each side. It was by far the wildest melee I
saw in sixty odd combat missions I flew. I heard one guy who had been
wounded pretty badly, scream until he went in. It was a wild, wild few
minutes. And a few minutes is all it was. According to the mission report
from our debriefing the whole fight took something like three to six
minutes. I had no inkling of elapsed time while it was going on. I was too
damned busy trying to stay alive...."
wow, another awesome one!:aok tnx