Megalodon, where did you find that photo? I have never seen that in all of my searching?
Megalodon, where did you find that photo? I have never seen that in all of my searching? Oboe thank you so much for following up with all of this, my Grandfather would be blown away! I cannot wait to see what cactus does and from the current set up, it looks amazing. Once again thank you to all of you who have taken the time to post and follow up with me and hopefully one day we can have this skin in the game, that would be an unbelievable tribute to him.
Cactus, any word on if or when this might make it to the MA?
Assuming it gets accepted, it should be ingame with the next skin update. I don't know when they're planning on doing the next update though. It's been a few months since the last update, so I hope it won't be too much longer. Probably a bit more of a wait to go.
Up at 5:30. Breakfast with pilots, and to the strip at dawn. Off at 0740, flying Blue 3. Squalls and high cumuli begin building up as we parallel the north New Guinea coast. We keep climbing. I put on my oxygen mask at 15000 feet. Major [Warren] Lewis starts down through a hole in the clouds with Red Flight. Colonel MacDonald continues climbing with Blue. We reach 18000 feet. Long discussion between fighters, rescue planes, and strafers about whether to turn back or try to make the target. Reconnaissance plane ahead reports weather fairly good in vicinity of target. We decide to go on.We pass over the Pisang Islands, our point of rendezvous. Weather improves constantly but still large areas of overcast covering the sea and Ceram Island. We pass over the Boela strips without any sign of ack-ack fire or air interception, although the Japs reportedly have fairly strong fighter forces in the area. The interior of Ceram is covered with a solid cloud layer. We fly above it at 10000 feet. Twenty miles or so on our right two high peaks project through the clouds. On each side strings of fighters, sleek and powerful, bore their way to the target - the Japanese airstrips on the south coast of Ceram.The clouds break as we approach the strips. We push our air speed up to 250 miles and hour indicated; there may be enemy fighters out of sight above us. We fall into string formation and weave over the strip at Amahai. No sign of enemy aircraft, even on the ground. We are too high to see what the revetments on the dispersal taxiways hold, but the strip itself is clear. We cross Elpaputih Bay. The airstrips on its west coast are clear also. We turn southwest to Haroekoe Island; no sign of Japanese activity in the air; none at Haroekoe strip, nor at Lianga, nor at Ambon. Apparently the enemy has no intention of opposing us by air.We circle northward and start back toward the east when the radio, which has been filled with mostly idle chatter, suddenly springs to life. " Captive " Squadron of the 8th Fighter Group has made contact with enemy aircraft and gone to the attack. We listen to the messages of the pilots making their passes. Apparently they are in contact with no more than a few enemy planes. We try to get the location, but everyone is too busy to answer or to hear." There he is now! Go in and get him. "" Can't somebody shoot him down? "" God-damn! I'm out of ammunition. "" I'm out of ammunition, too ! "" Somebody get him who's got some ammunition. "" The son of a squeak is making monkeys out of us. "" Who's got some ammunition? "Another calmer voice breaks in, annoyed at not being able to get the location, and at "Captive" cluttering the air with conversation." What's the matter, Captive, having trouble? "Meanwhile, we have been weaving in and out around the clouds, trying to spot the Captive fighters. We finally locate them over Elpaputih Bay. The air above Amahai strip is black with antiaircraft bursts of the heavy calibers. Down below we see two enemy planes. A P-38 has just completed an unsuccessful attack on one of them.We jettison our drop tanks, switch on our guns, and nose down to the attack. One Jap plane banks sharply toward the airstrip and the protection of the antiaircraft guns. The second heads off into the haze and clouds. Colonel MacDonald gets a full deflection shot on the first, starts him smoking, and forces him to reverse his bank.We are spaced 1000 feet apart. Captain [Danforth] Miller gets in a short deflection burst with no noticeable effect. I start firing as the plane is completing its turn in my direction. I see tracers and the 20's [20-mm cannon] find their mark, a hail of shells directly on the target. But he straightens out and flies directly toward me.I hold the trigger down and my sight on his engine as we approach head on. My tracers and my 20's spatter on his plane. We are close - too close - hurtling at each other at more than 500 miles an hour. I pull back on the controls. His plane zooms suddenly upward with extraordinary sharpness.I pull back with all the strength I have. Will we hit? His plane, before a slender toy in my sight, looms huge in size. A second passes - two - three - I can see the finning on his engine cylinders. There is a rough jolt of air as he shoots past behind me.By how much did we miss? Ten feet? Probably less than that. There is no time to consider of feel afraid. I am climbing steeply. I bank to the left. No, that will take me into the ack-ack fire above Amahai strip. I reverse to the right. It all has taken seconds.My eyes sweep the sky for aircraft. Those are only P-38's and the plane I have just shot down. He is starting down in a wing over - out of control. The nose goes down. The plane turns slightly as it picks up speed - down - down - down toward the sea. A fountain of spray - white foam on the water - waves circling outward as from a stone tossed in a pool - the waves merge into those of the sea - the foam disappears - the surface is as it was before.My wingman is with me, but I have broken from my flight. There are six P-38's circling the area where the enemy plane went down. But all six planes turn out to be from another squadron. I call " Possum I ", and get a reply which I think says they are above the cloud layer. It is thin, and I climb up through on instruments. But there are no planes in sight, and I have lost my wingman. I dive back down but all planes below have disappeard, too. Radio reception is so poor that I can get no further contact. I climb back into the clouds and take up a course for home, cutting through the tops and keeping a sharp lookout for enemy planes above. Finally make radio contact with "Possum" flight and tell them I will join them over our original rendezvous point ( the Pisang Islands ).The heavies are bombing as I sight the Boela strips; I turn in that direction to get a better view. They have started a large fire in the oil-well area of Boela - a great column of black smoke rising higher and higher in the air. The bombers are out of range, so the ack-ack concentrates on me - black puffs of smoke all around, but none nearby. I weave out of range and take up course for the Pisang Islands again. I arrive about five minutes ahead of my flight. We join and take up course for Biak Island. Landed at Mokmer strip at 1555.( Lieutenant Miller, my wingman, reported seeing the tracers of the Jap plane shooting at me. I was so concentrated on my own firing that I did not see the flashes of his guns. Miller said the plane rolled over out of control right after he passed me. Apparently my bullets had either severed the controls or killed the pilot. )
