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4 kills in a P-38J Lightning by 'Flamer' =ALW=
This evening, as I was peacefully, deeply sleeping, enjoying the warm sun of the evening in my makeshift hammock perched between the booms of my mighty P-38J Lightning... The magnificent twin Allison V-1710-27/29 engines had been tuned this morning, and on the test flight I was so impressed with my mechanics’ work. After testing the accuracy of the single 20 mm Hispano AN-M2C cannon and the four .50 caliber machine guns, I flew around the mountains NE of Air, where there lay some old Flakpanzers from an ill attempted attack from Rin the other day. I could still hear the rumbling of bombs being dropped upon Air, along with the sirens wailing as we bombed and captured it, careful to not destroy or damage our planes back, along with the pummeled base...
It was then I suddenly awakened, realizing that the once wailing sirens, after being silent for days, were screaming again in my ears! Startled by all this, I rolled out (fell out) of my hammock, as people were running around; manning the AA Guns around the perimeters. I then heard over the intercom... "Bz A26 inbound 10,000ft S/SE; we have fighter pursuits on the way!" " Move ground units IMMEDIATELY; spread out," came the barking commands from the base commander. Now quite awake, I ripped the hammock hooked to my "Siesta Plane" and quickly jumped into my P-38.
Switching on the radio I heard coming over, "C'mon baby, C'mon baby!" as ta2u, jim_c, and jrol, hollered in excitement as they pursued the fast approaching Vader . I fired up the engines and taxied down the runway. Then, jim_c yelled, "I've got a fix, she's a nixed six!" As I watched, looking back towards the mass of planes and tracers, I saw jim_c's tracers flying past the Bz Vader as he zoomed on by... The Bz Vader, taking hits, turned westward all of a sudden; while I heard the roar of jim_c's Focke-Wulf go through its loop into the next pass and ta2u followed through with the finishing shots as I turned SE. I saw ta2u's tracers raking around the Vader as its left engine went into a fiery ball and, as the A26 started to dive in, the wing along with the burning engine blew up and spiraled down into a fireball towards the earth SW of the Airfield just 5,000ft away. That was a close one, but the day was going to be a busy one after that first initiative from the Bz at Rin. I "almost" felt bad for the guy who would be sent, un-gunned, in an A26 to a base we so vigilantly fought for, and would likewise defend. Who, I thought would do a thing like that? They were desperate, it seemed. As I leveled off at 7k, heading out SE towards Rin, all of a sudden I saw this FW-D9 in a panicked situation. He was twisting, rolling, turning, and trying to get off one shot before meeting his maker. As jro1, cdp1, and jim_c were engaging, I started to make a quick pass through... As the D9 approached me, head-on, he all of a sudden dove in and away; right in front of me. He was now right in my guns! Just then I started firing a quick burst... Starting a barrel roll; to follow him in, watching tracers fly past him, I could only wonder what he was thinking... As he rolled left, desperation must have kicked in, trying to evade me as I hammered in full left rudder. As I followed him; quite easily in my nimble P-38, jim_c dove in right in front of me, guns blazing away at the Bz, just missing him--right behind its tail! But I had him, at 600yds off his six I could see him scrambling for his emergency cockpit latches as I fired away, watching his tail shatter to pieces from the 20mm shells I was hurling towards him! Just then, he started spinning end over end, there was no hope of bailing this low at that point...then BOOM! A fireball started on the left side of his craft and it was over. He and the craft crashed into the ground, tumbling to a halt, leaving a smoke cloud rising as we left.
'KILL' I snorted. I said to myself, “I wonder what is causing such a kamikaze spirited effort?” After leveling off, I began climbing steeply, turning quickly to the NW as word of a Spit IX circling near Air came in. I heard jro1 excitedly blurting over the radio, “I've got`em', I've got`em'!” I then saw the spit head SE. He was about 10,000ft, with a 2,000 foot altitude advantage over my current 8k, and he was closing fast on jim_c. jdp1 and jro1 were by now in hot pursuit. I quickly turned away, to the NE. After blowing by, the Bz Spit dove in wildly for lower targets below. I knew from there that it was history for that fella. jim_c jdp1 and jro1 followed right in. I turned my attention to the radar, and to another Spit IX NE, and as I headed in that direction, diving in steeply, I could feel a familiar rush of energy between the thundering twin Allisons. “8K Spit North!” I spiked on the radio. Giving generous alt readings started to become a habit to ensure my comrades were not at an extra disadvantage if they were to come and engage.
He was in a shallow dive when I leveled off at 6,000 feet and started pulling up hard in another steep climb as the spit raced in, a bit late considering my speed and his alt, but knowing Spit IXs, I'd have to think he knew what he was doing. At 6 to 8,000 yards from any allies I knew he was all mine and I smiled inside. I would nail him so quickly I snickered. Heading straight-on nose to nose for a collision course, we fired a quick burst at each other. He zipped past under me as I pulled hard up for a loop. As I leaned back through the loop looking for him I could see his tracers race ahead him. I went vertical, on up to 8,000 feet, and while rolling to the right I spotted him below and muttered "you're doomed buddy". I threw the flaps all down to gain that edge I needed and followed him around, slowly, and with surprising ease I pulled a lead shot around on him as he banked left, rolled, starting flat turn. I now had an extreme advantage at this point and started racking his bird with lead for about 5 seconds. The hits started shattering pieces off the outside right wing of his bird, causing it to spark into flames. Now spiraling wildly downward, the Spitfire IX pilot and his unworthy aircraft hurled towards the earth as I watched, sparing my ammo for the yet continuing enclaves to come. BOOM! I watched as the wreckage exploded, hearing the clink-clink-clink from the parts flying about.
With smoke thick in the air about, I think to myself: well, at least he died before the horrific fireball consumed his cockpit, blowing out the gaping hole blasted open from my 20mm cannon. I depended upon and dearly loved these nose mounted guns, especially the 20mm cannon. As I leveled off at 6,000ft I proudly blurt 'KILL'.
Turning West I continued on for more altitude in allied space, now that it had been cleared by my comrades. Just then on radar I see it, a Dora IX closing from the SE and heading North. I quickly roll eastward and start a shallow climb at 2.5 thousand feet/min. I check again my altitude--8,000FT. As I caught sight of him, I realized I needed more alt; I should have grabbed to the West. He must have been at 15,000FT I muttered to myself. I hollered out, '15k Dora9, Dora9, 15k!' At 8,000 feet, I was at a clear disadvantage.
I began a steep climb, 3.5KFTPM, and spotted more bogies now over Rin. That was our target this evening, as the Bz had asked for it, sending un-gunned buffs and crazy kamikaze style pilots to Air. Again to the NE coming from Lib I mark a P-38 on the way, 11,000YDS out. I then caught a glimpse of his plane as I turn NE. At 10,000FT, he is now co-alt, parallel to me as I began to lower my climb to a 1.5k ft/min. He was grabbing this way, gaining some alt but no speed yet, and I realized I needed some speed before we engage, while closing, I spurted out a quick '15K PJ'. Quickly approaching I could see he was at about 12K. Once again, I was on my own, just him and me, and he's all mine I grinned. With WEP now feeding the rumbling Allisons I started a 4ROC by easing back on the stick. I had to get just a little more alt before the merge. At 4,500YDS distance, 11,500FT I push the wheel forward in a tremendous dive, having switched on the WEP I prepared. I quickly level at 8,000FT, fleeting along at over 300KIAS, I hear the Zzzzz!!!! from the the G-meter as I yank the wheel back from 8,000FT in a glorious sweep, creaking sounds from the strain begin as the Allisons make an excited VvvMmmmm. I felt the controls stiffen a bit and then ease as I rocketed straight up in a vertical climb towards the P-38 that had just now flown over me. He had not inned yet at this point. ‘What was his problem?’ I thought. His radar must not be working. ‘Too bad, tough luck, you’re stuck, buck,’ I muttered to myself with a BIG grin. As I closed on him I realized I was slowing quite some, a bit too much as a matter of fact, and rapidly.
Then I remembered...oh jeepers, I filled the fuel tank to the brim. Brim, BRIM! I told =INK= back at the hanger before he scurried off in his 109F early that morning, "to the brim, fill `er' up". With my empty jug I requested more Root Beer. That was my fuel I said. Oh man, he heard me wrong. I was so distracted I hadn't even noticed my fuel. It wasn't his fault. I should have filled it myself, I said, laughing to myself weakly :::hehehe:::.
A quick glance at the KMPH gauge shows a quickly waning speed. Now the thought. I can't be getting roped like this! Just then I see him rolling twice, maybe searching unsuspectingly for my nice shot at his belly. He then banks to the right and as I close at 800YDS, my mighty 20MM shells began to race up, tracers leading, following, hurling up. My Allisons rumbling, flexing their mighty muscles, WEP siphoning, they thunder skyward, carrying me like mighty Guardian angles on either side of me, holding fast. Checking my gauge again I see it...80KIAS!! Oh my God! FLAPS! FLAPS!..they go down in a loud 'clang!'. I gulp, sweat beginning to build. I can't stall! I can't stall! I'm almost there! I start spiraling as I climb, slower, slower, then I watch as he starts a futile climb into a partial weak loop that won't finish. Aha! And he didn't have any energy. As the odds start to even I began see the horizontal stabilizer on his P-38 shatter from all 5 guns blazing past his bird. His booms start to weave, one starting to twist from his effort to climb away, engines torquing viciously. Smoke starts pouring out of his engines like the tanks NE of Air after their fuel tanks caught fire. Woosh! I see his right wing fuel tank burst, catching fire it couldn't take any more hits. The opposite engine, his left, stalls out. He then keels over, and starts diving towards me! Wide and wild eyes I stare a gasp! Squeezing the trigger still as hard as my eyes now I pray, "oh God, let him veer away from me!". Opening my eyes I just see his cables, tail and a partial horizontal stabilizer whisk past. I let off the trigger my knuckles white from fright.
:::Whew!!::: I let out a breath. He missed me. Now motionless I stalled, buzzer now an irritating, scolding reminder of how lucky I was, I rolled, leveled off, flaps fully down, recovering from the stall and returned to a normal flight path, heart beating in my butt I gather myself and head off. With flaps up, I roll over to see where the Bz P-38 was now spinning, spiraling, almost end over end toward the earth as he tried in vain to control his perilous craft for a bailout, raging fire flaring from one wing. I then see him pop the canopy off through the smoke I see him bail, probably 2,500FT over the ground yet, I see his chute open as he floats down. I see a little light in one corner of his silky chute catch fire as his plane had whizzed past, trailing a fuel ridden fiery inferno. As I watch I see the chute quickly crumple as he started sailing for earth. I looked away.
That's not a way to die, I said, thinking of how =INK= back in the Pacific had bailed he told me and landed in the water. I thought, this guy is gonna hit hard and burn. DAMN. I had to feel sorry for the guy. But he tried to kill me as well! What pity would he have had, once I bailed I thought. As =INK= had told me about his ordeal, wading in the water as the ruthless SONz's (Son Of a Neutral, the rejected and scoffed race, lowly in it's pride) strafed at him, I thought, I'm not shooting at him. But, again, fire had been his final executioner. I winced at the thought of hitting the ground after bailing. 5 seconds later I proudly, reluctantly announce, 'kill'.
Turning West to Rin, I gather myself. As I thought about it I was looking forward to leaving this European map, and wing with my bud over in the Pacific arena as I was on a temporary assignment, referred to because of my known abilities and skills in the P-38. Man, if I'd my wingy, this would have been much easier. I let out a sigh.
Over the radio I bellow out a request of any bogies in the area. On radar 2 Spit IX's could be seen at Rin, engaged. I call for alts over the radio. No response. Not good. I spot "Shift" circling the Spit IX's and called out...'Shift, alt on bogies??'. No response. He was definitely busy. I was needed. I spot Shift and start climbing, at a 2ROC I ask again, 'Shift, alt on bogies?!?'. Now at 13,000Ft I spot them. I see "e2-12" intervening at like alt with the Spit IX's. From the West I see "Grabb" racing towards the brawl. Shifting my attention NE I know they'll make short work of this. BOOM!....'KILL'.....BOOM!....'KILL!'. I smiled.
Heading toward Lib to the NE now, I try to locate any other bogies otw to cut them off. Resuming a 3.5ROC I checked things out. 'Oil,...good'....'Fuel 88%, Uffda!...lots a fuel ...good,:::smirk:::', Ammo 75%,....good, still have about 10% cannons left. Looking back up I notice a greasy film on my canopy. That prop hangin' ordeal was messy, I thought. I've gotta put X-Rain on it next time. Thinking to myself I ponder, how many kills can I get in this 'flamer'. I looked up into the blue sky, lets see, that's 3, yeah, 3. Checking the radar again I spot a P-38 and BF109.
Looking back up I catch sight of them, a couple of spots on the horizon. One lower to the NE. That's the P-38. Directly East I spot the 109, a bit higher, and climbing for an effortless kill. “This guy is going nowhere,” I say aloud. Lining up, as in a joust, I squint and stare through the oil spotted windscreen at him, seeing his prop with it's whirling spiral painted cone from a distance. The P-38 heads off. Glancing off at the P-38 I turn back to see that he's closing faster than I'd expected! “Whoa!” I hollered. That speed demon heading this way was avenging, I thought. I'd better be careful. In a matter of seconds we merged, passed as I could hear the whirring of his aircraft along with the whine of his motor in full bore as he screamed by at full tilt. P!-Ping! Ping! Ping! Plunk! Eeerrrrrchuga barhg barhg barhg ssweeerrrr chuga eeer chuga eeer!!!! Oh My God, I blurted!! My No2 Engine light blaring at me, the side of my aircraft shaking from the engine coming to a stop, alarms go off, gauges zero out. I looked over in amazement as I saw my prop motionless. I had made a short burst at the same time he did, but he hit me first, just before going under me, nearly colliding again. This just plain freaked me out. I could still see the tracers from his guns blaring a away past my right side. He dove in steeply behind me and came around very quickly, surprisingly in a quick loop heading back this way I had hit the start button...areee areee areee chump chump chump. Nothing, lifeless. He killed my engine. If I made it back I'd sure wanna know why I'd been spared a fire and why it just shut down and wouldn't start. With no time to think I had made my loop around short with quick motion while I had some speed and energy. 'HELP!' I yell out as I leveled out with what speed I had before the loss of power, adjusting the trim frantically. This would soon start aggravating the situation if not already. I didn't like fighting on one engine when I could have two. As I looped the remaining engine strained at the angle of turn as it's now lifeless friend was quiet. Diving in for yet more speed, we met head-on once again, both firing off a burst simultaneously, aiming for his nose as he inverted under me diving in I get a shot at him...see tracers ping and bounce off his belly, cannons tearing holes through his armor. As he flew past under I caught a spray of fuel coming from below his plane. I then heard a distant 'BOOM!' from behind. As I looked I saw the unbelievable, he just burst into flames right behind me. I'll bet from 150 or 200YDS back. I wondered in amazement. To myself I started pondering, what caused that???
As I rolled back over, catching sight of the 109 tumbling to the earth in violent fireball, I collected myself once again, now correcting the counter-torque of the remaining engine I realized, and then remembered the fuel I saw pouring from the belly of his fuel tank. Was it the fuel leak that caused the explosion? Did I send 20MM shells tearing through into his engine, blowing it to pieces? Well, mine was fortunate not to catch fire and blow up if that be the case. My situation was all I cared about at this point. Well, the fuel spray cleaned off my windscreen, that was one good thing coming about this. As I trudged along I could hear a whistling sound. I looked back again at my gauges. Fuel 50%?!?!...what the...ok, now the fuel is gone for that Engine. Everything checked out ok with a quick final glance at the Pennzoil gauge.
This started to irritate me, thinking to myself again, MAN, one wrong merge/approach did this to me! GRRRR!!! Turning West I fought the constant torque back home. As I now noticed on radar, amazingly still working, a P51 and P-38 in pursuit of me. “Oh, I don't need this!” I said aloud in a sarcastic blurt. Turning South I try to run off out of range, hoping they would head towards my fellow Cz comrades in fighters were assisting at Rin where our buffs were now pounding the base. At 150KIAS maximum sustained level flight there was no way I would affectively attack another bogie, or run for that matter. Seeing me with one engine would be like having a sign saying, 'shoot me!'. Upon range I spotted cdp1, Shif, Grubb, and Brit. They looked as though they might be Vulching Rin... They were! But As I continued to trudge along at 125-150KIAS with the WEP on, seemingly making the torque worse, I had to go on, and faster!. From 15,000YDS I held a considerable distance from the fast approaching bogies.
The P-51 and P-38 dove in on Rin to stave off their Vulching attackers. Reaching the base and heading West I catch a plane in the distance, much higher. I gulped, I hope that is an ally. It was 'ta2u'. I spotted below the P-38, and a Spit IX in a battle 5,000FT below. At 10,000FT the P-38 looked like an easy shot, if I had my other engine and could take more hits, as if I needed any more. As I circled, my plane started listing badly, letting me know this was a self-made suicide mission I leveled off. Checking the radar I spot a P-38, to the NW....I yelled '13K PJ NW!'. This is not good. The Bz P-38 now climbing past 14,000FT I KNEW I didn't have a chance, not in this shape. 10,000YDS out he was still a danger. I then noticed him dive in on one of our buffs and fighters. I noticed to my 7 o-clock the other P-38 now much closer, 2,000YDS off and closing?? Oh man. I think for a second, then roll, dive into him headlong, firing a short burst as my cannons neared their end. The first pass made he pings me good. I hear what sounded like a hail shower raining down on the hanger tin roof. As I pray leveling out, coming up for the loop I hear ta2u holler, "hold on Flamer, I've got em!" Boom! thundered as ta2u racked the Bz, filling him full o' lead. 'KILL!' He in an elated voice spurts out. Whew, re-positioning my cap and gloves, 'Thanks ta2u, bud I owe ya!' I sound off.
As I continued West I hear jim_c screaming...Nooo!!!. A bright fire, then flash below. Silence. Furrowing my brow I search about. Brit calls out 'GLIDER! GLIDER!' I'm dead stick and heading home! HELP!'. Searching below I spot our buff otw. Glancing at the radar, then quickly up I spot that higher P-38, perched to the West. As I dove in steeply I realized and hit my forehead with my hand... 'DUHH!!'. Now I've done it. I'm toast. I quickly pulled up into him at over 300KIAS, quickly loosing speed and realizing why not to fight in this crippled bird. Rolling in front of him I dove right back in, lower yet. I couldn't run, especially like this. Spotting ta2u on radar I signal to no avail at first I think. Then all at once I see him closing in REAL fast towards the Bz pilot now wanting an easy pickin' on me. I continued diving in, looping, toward his dives to no avail, loosing ground fast. I can see our buff approaching, and then the Bz P-38 turns away, fending off 'ta2u'. Then again he comes! I start to try looping defensively, pitifully and now as I cut throttle at the top of the last loop I can muster, 0KIAS, I'm dead in the air, flaps engaged, motionless for a second if not more. Stall buzzer going on crazily, lights flashing everywhere, my last engine running low on oil pressure, throttle cut to idle, I roll over slowly and begin spiraling downward, full throttle, oil back up, WEP on, the old faithful Allison growling forward, I evasively turn wildly as the Bz pursues me on, chasing me in, tracers racing around me, but I don't hear a single ping. Then as I reach the deck, I pull up at 500Ft and turn about to see him now engaged with 'shift' and 'ta2u'. I struggled to stay level as I headed West, under radar and watching the distance grow. As I peddled along I wiped my brow, checked my gauges. Man have I put this thing through the wrenches I think to myself. Feeling my heart pound in my throat I tried relaxing on the what seemed like forever trip back, slowly at 150KIAS limping home. Gritting my teeth I hear the last cries of 'shift' and 'ta2u' before falling victim to the Bz P-38. Oh man, I said aloud. God must be shining down on me today.
As I coasted, engine idling into the airstrip I could see the buffs and fighters, some smoking, some looked like they went through hell. Mine wasn't an exception. As I taxied down the runway I turned into my hanger. Outside was my hammock, still lying there, left behind in the scurry. The Bz had quieted down now following this attempt and licked their wounds as well as we did. More buffs rolled down the runway as I rolled to a stop in front of my hanger. As I popped the canopy open I rolled the side windows down. The one Allison, poor ol' girl, pumped out a few puffs before setting quietly. I laid back, pulled my cap off and looked up into the serene blue sky, watching a few birds fly past. I breathed out a sigh of relief.
Back home, I thought, this time I'm taking a vacation like planned. The mechanics came running over. “What the?!?!” They blurted. “How did you get this thing back here?!?!” As I climbed, half way stumbling from the previous surges of adrenaline, much like the WEP I forced upon these non-complaining Allison's. I looked a gasp at my motor. The whole side cover being peeled off. The motor was in plain view; you could see the fuel line, sheared off, and a path across the wing where the fuel streamed out. I could see fragments of what was the barrage of bullets from the Bf109 I then mentioned. “A 109?!?!” they blurted. Shaking their heads, they said... “You're lucky he didn't put one through your canopy or engine pal!” Inspecting further along I noticed how the entire side was just dented with little tails following from the angle the bullets came, flaking the paint off my just waxed deep blue =RAF=™ skin this morning.
As they walked off to inspect another buff rolling in on two engines I stood back and thought again to myself. God WAS shining on me today, "Thaaaank you Lord" I yelled out, just this time I almost took it a bit too far. Walking back towards the nose I admired the "Flamer" painted next to the bright green bullet with the menacing face and eyes on the nose.
Walking around front I reached up and wiped some soot off around the 30cal and 20mm portholes, then gave a thankful pat on it's side, realizing this ol' machine brought me home once again. As I walked around to the booms, I took the hammock up off the ground and perched it again between the booms. I slipped off my suit, gloves and throw them into the cockpit. While crawling into the hammock, I saw a mechanic walking this way, and he handed me a nice cold Root Beer. “Thanks,” I said with a big smile, “you're super!”. He then said, “Ya know who that 109 pilot was??” “No, an unfortunate sucker??” I smirked hehe. “Well,” he said with a smile... “that was the BF109 bandit we were trying to rid of, chasing him down was a challenge at best. He already had taken down 3 of our buffs last week and a dozen or more fighters, some of our best. I'm glad for ya.” he smiled, then slapped my shoulder. He walked away, as he neared a jeep further down he turned back and said, “We'll find the ol' 109 wreck this evening after we take Rin and bring ya his prop, or whatever you left of him!” he laughed.
Leaning back into my hammock I smiled, popping the cap off sipping the refreshing drink I closed my eyes and relaxed, finally. Drifting off to sleep I could hear the chatter of the mechanics, some singing of their one true loves back home along with latest big band tune from an open door inside the shop office. There won't be any more attacks from the Bz for a while.
Opening my eyes again I looked to see the sun setting, what a beautiful day, living another day! I close my eyes, feeling a nice breeze now coming from the NE off the mountains so fresh. It's sweet smells lull me to sleep as I lay there.....quietly.......drifting off.......my 'Siesta' at last...........sweet dreams.....dreams.....dreaaa.....dree......
=ALW= 'The Flamer'
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