Let me set the complaint up for you. I am leading a group of 9 P-40's above the B-26's heading in to bomb hangars at A33. Skies are clear, no sign of enemy cons and about a sector and half to go until feet dry. Next thing you know tracers fly by my canopy and I hear that sickening crunch of bullet hits on my plane. I jink hard left, hard right to shake what I assume is a high fast con that has dropped on me. Then I hear friendlies hollering on range "check fire check fire" "who fired on Waystin?" UGH. I just go shot by one of my guys. A few moments later my XO Razor pipes up on vox and says in a sheepish voice "sorry man, it was my cat, he jumped on the keyboard and he's a pretty good shot." Then the laughter and jokes start!
My XO's cat cost me one machine gun and parts of my right wing prior to ever seeing the enemy last night.
Epilogue
The Pigs On The Wing are currently trying to recruit Razor's cat but offers from other squadrons are making the negotiation process difficult.
