View Full Version : Story time boys and girls

11-15-2008, 11:30 PM
The tension in the cockpits of JG26's 109's was growing. The radio set was crackling to life with the excited screams and shouts of the Jagdwaffe already engaged with the enemy. "Rechtes breaken, REACHTES BREAKEN!" Followed by "****ie Auto ist Kaput! Horrido!" But mostly their was som much going on that it was hard to understand as pilots talked and screamed over each other.

I began the preflight procedures knowing full well that soon me and my group would be thrown into the mix. The feild alarm began to screech and my cheif mechanic Kruger began to crank on the inertia starter to get this bird running. I pulled the canopy closed and latched it as I watched him put all he had into the cranking and the wine of the inertia wheel filled the cockpit. He pulled the handle and almost instinctively my left hand found the start lever and pulled on it. The Diamler Benz 605 coughed and then roared to life. The engine creating a swaying motion on the craft literally rocking it back and forth.

Kruger tapped the canopy and winked at me before he slid out of sight off of the wing. I gave the aircraft power and stood heavily on the right rudder pedal. The 109 is always a challange to get going in a straight line and any casual carelesness can have you off the runway and tearing into a line of parked aircraft! Messaging the rudder I make down the runway rapidly building up speed. My Gustav is feeling a bit sluggish to get airborn, The full tanks and the MG 151 gunpods add to an already overweight airframe. But after a little more runway than I am acustomed to I get my crate into the air. The gear comes up with a resounding clunk as the locking mechinism sets into place.

To be continued http://forums.ubi.com/groupee_common/emoticons/icon_biggrin.gif

11-16-2008, 07:43 AM
"Das ist Loki boden Kontroller, Enemy formation ist 240 degrees altitude 20k, Ende" I pulled my formation into a shallow climb and steared for the bombers. We have 16 aircraft with us this time out with 1 schwarm acting as fighter escourt for the rest of us Kannonboots. "Loki Kontroller again, Box cars at 220 angels 21 11 kilometer, Ende." Our Beule's strain to get to the requiered altitude in time. To our left I notice an aircraft trailing smoke for miles around heading home on the deck 12k below us. Time passes with increased momentum as we pilots prepare to do our duty. "Okay boys you know what to do, spread out! 3rd gruppe you climb and take fourth gruppe high and stern and try to get past those escourts, Second Gruppe you follow me in to the path of the bombers were going head on!"

The flak puffs of black were the first thing I noticed about 5 kilometers from my target. I squinted my eyes thru all the black specks trying to Locate the furniture vans, Then the flak stopped and out of the cloud of black death I saw them. I pulled my Gustav around in a tight left spiral climb to put me on course for the formation. A bunch of big black specks on the horizon being harrased by little black specks tearing viciously thru them and on occasion one would belch out black smoke and fall away from the rest in a dance of death with these contested skies. We were closing rapidly and I could see our target now was the B-24's the Americans brought with them into this war, but I have never seen so many! I stopped counting at 20 and there had to be at least four or five times that number! I was closing in with my throttle firewalled and less than 1 kilometer to the lead bomber. My finger flipped the gun switch over to the active position and my sweaty palms gripped the stick making minor corrections to keep my gunsite pointing on target, The cockpit of this giant whale closing on me fast. His giant ship began to fill my windsheild spreading its long wings that almost look as if they want to reach out and wrap around me....No time for silly thoughts the time is almost now, Fire..Fire..Fire!!!
My finger squeezed the trigger harder than at any point in my life, my crate shook violently as my 20mm Kannons knocked rapidly; I could see the expolsions and the glass like perspex shattering like a dropped egg's shell. I had a front row seat to this distruction and it all started to seem like slow motion had set in. I shoved the stick forward with both hands trying to avoid the almost inevitable collision.

To Be Continued http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-wink.gif

11-16-2008, 07:51 AM
Very nice!

11-16-2008, 08:02 AM
" Dogtail Bleu leader, 109s four o clock going after the bombers!"

I more or less feel the shadow of Blue 4 pulling over me as he banks and dives on the 109s that are intercepting the raid.

`Dogtail squadron, let´s go get them!`I bank to follow Blue 4 as I see a Fortress already going down, spinning out of control. There are a few chutes behind it, but not many. It happens. Now to make sure it doesn't happen again.

The lead 109 has just passed a Fortress that he hit in the cockpit area. I don´t bother examining the B17. I have better things to do.

The 109 begins to fill my gunsite and strangely, despite the gloves, my left hand which is resting on the throttle is feeling far more sweaty then my right hand which is stradling the trigger...

11-16-2008, 01:39 PM
lot of sweaty palms... no flight gloves eh?

11-16-2008, 02:04 PM
Originally posted by flyingloon:
lot of sweaty palms... no flight gloves eh?
I for one would be shivering too much to sweat at those altitudes. http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-wink.gif

Still, good read! Please continue, mate!

11-17-2008, 06:16 AM
I edited my post a little just to reflect the comments.

11-18-2008, 12:53 PM
My seat straps strain against my shoulders as I am thrown upward from the excessive negative G's. I let pressure off the stick and roll my bird to the left so that I can see over my shoulder. "One fat man kaput!" I scream out. Trails of flame and smoke lick the stricken B-24 from the cockpit and the left wing root. The big craft lazily falls down and to the left slowly nosing down into its death spiral. But there is no time for that bird watching if you will, I had to remind myself to focus on the battle. It was about this time that I noticed the ice cold wind on my skin and a loud hissing noise. I looked around the canopy and thats when I saw the nice .50 cal bullet hole cleanly thru the glass behind my head. Once again the radio is alive with warnings of the arival American's escourt fighters. "Verdamnt! Mustangs 1 o' clock high!" I was jerking my head violently to keep an eye on them past all the canopy frames. Unless we suprise the escourts our Kannonboots are ill prepared for a confrontation. I begin pulling up and to the right trying to use all the speed from my dive to spiral climb and get behind and above the mustangs. "Where ist the fourth gruppe?" As I level off behind the bomber streem about 1k above and just lightly abreast and above the escourts I finally spot the fourth gruppe diving out of the sun on the mustangs. The enemy craft scatter in the the ensuing chaos as the lead 109 riddles the tailing P-51 from above then shoots past at extreme speed. The back of the P-51 starts blowing heavy black smoke and shedding aluminum skin into the aircrafts slipstream. Slowly it rolls over and the canopy pops off and the American falls free. "Kalten! reform on me!" I start to dive into the rear of the stream with my throttle firewalled, time for my second pass.


11-18-2008, 02:42 PM
I watch briefly as Charly McSwain freefalls through the sky, his plane already a mess even further down below. Time for some payback!

Keying the radio I say "Wishbone lead from Dogtail lead. Gatecrashers in the neighbourhood please assist!" Two clicks of the mike tell me help is on the way.

In the meantime, thanks to the speed gained in the dive, I managed to reach the 109 I had been after.

As the 109 dives again, I gently pull the Mustang over and join him in the dive. Not quite the range, but no time like the present.

I pull the trigger and watch.....

11-19-2008, 03:28 AM
The 109 begin leaking fuel, he rolls it over and dives almost vertically down, eager to get away. As i do not want to sacrifice all of my energy i gently pull my trusty Pony back to climb back to the bombers...and the fight. after a fast zoom climb i steady the climb as i sighten the bombers again. i see distant tracers all over the sky. I take a quick look around the sky to see where my wingman is Jonas Boyd didnt have that many flights under his belt so maybe he'd fallen off in the dive. but no he was right where he was supposed to be. then on our high six i spot sunlight reflex in something, taking a closer look i identify the nose of what must be a one ninety. i shout BREAK as i pull my plane around left to get out of his line of fire but too late, i hear guns blazing and bullets pass me all over the sky.
is he going for me or my wingman?... ...

11-23-2008, 08:02 AM
BUHP [Bring up his post http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-very-happy.gif]

11-24-2008, 12:03 PM
The tracer fire from the Bombers is explosive. The sky is filled with bits of metal careening about occasionaly finding a target to bury itself into. I line myself up on a wounded bird with bits of his tail holed and fuel dumping from into his slipstream but he still manages to hang in formation. Just as I am about to squeeze off another burst into this stricken beast my radio breaks my concintration, "Hauptman links breaken! Indianeer ober!!" As I break hard right hammering the throttle forward, I look up past my right wingtip to see some metalic blur zip past. I could see the flashing of its machine guns as it dives just under me. It was so close in passing that the wind coming off of it bucks my Gustav. Now I look down past my left wing tip and see that it was a Mustang pulling level now several thousand feet below me. "That was close Kalten, Danke!" Just at this moment I hear the familiar sound of enemy rounds ripping and exploding all over my aircraft. There is a mild explosion on the floor and a bullit rips into my thigh. I snap it out of its left turn and into a dive to get away from those damn gunners who have finally found there mark.
Coolant and oil spurt out into the air as a trail of smoke follows my spiral dive down. "Kalten keep those buzzards back! Im wounded!" "Ja Hauptman, Ich will!" The adrenaline is keeping me focused but more and more I cant help but to notice the agonising pain.


11-24-2008, 04:08 PM
[lets continue the parallell stories, anyone's welcome to join in]

Turn out that the daring 190 is going for me.
i pull hard left rudder and pull the plane in a left spinning roll,
as all control surfaces stops airflow the Pony spins gently left a loud noice and a glimpse of gray green colours as the 190 swirls by climbing up again, i reverse the controls and regain control and stability and pull it level looking for my wingman, he's several hundred feets above and ahead of me hopelessly chasing the 190. I shout to him to be ready to split S down towards me if the 190 comes down again, and sure it does. it level out in a flet turn and dives down head on towards my wingman.
I hit War emegency power and force my plane up facing the 190 as it roars down at high speed. Jonas on the egde is slowly rolling his p51 around for the split S but alas too slow the 190 splinters the p51 and it blows up in a huge fireball the 190 continues the dive towards me however before he could get proper aim at me
50 caliber rounds hammer into his engine through the open front of the radial engine and it begins burning violently and he streeks by my overhead.
I gently level out my plane taking deep breaths.

11-25-2008, 12:35 AM
Story time boys and girls


Unfortunately there are no girls here http://forums.ubi.com/images/smilies/16x16_smiley-sad.gif...

11-25-2008, 02:24 AM
you sure?..not that i am but still...

12-03-2008, 04:43 PM

12-03-2008, 08:54 PM
Conciousness seems to be slipping away. The sounds of the rushing air grow quiet and my vision blurs. I slowly drift into a half awake half dreaming state and the pain in my leg ceases. I try to muster the energy to fight the controls but my body wont listen, it just wants to sleep.

I hear screaming......oddly its my own voice "Wake up! Wake up! were not going to die like this!" Slowly I force my eyelids open and see my crate barreling earthwards shaking itself to peices. Its only then that I recognise Kalten shouting into my receiver "Pull up! Pull up Major!" I pull the throttle back and with both hands grip the stick and pull for everything I got. Nothings happening! Trim! Ive got to trim! Slowly i work the trim wheel and even more slowly the 109 responds. Come on a little more, Just a little more a plead to myself. Fully awake and out of my shock my adrenaline is pumping my heart at an alarming rate. I again notice the blood loss out of my thigh. The nose lazily pulls itself through the horizon. Trim straight, Stick forward.

I see something burning out of the corner of my eye. My god its Kalten! Minus his wings and his engine spewing flames heading striaght down at such an alarming speed that his tail disentigrates. Glansing higher I see the mustang that brought Kalten to his unfortunate fate pulling violently out of his persuing dive. I pull up and give it full rudder with my good leg and squeez of a few bursts in his direction.

Amazingly one of my cannon rounds connects his aircraft midsection just below and aft of his canopy and his tail section folds upwards at a 90 degree angle behind the wingroot. Smoke soon followed by a furious fire erupts and it goes into a flat spin crushing itself on the feild below.

My engine at that point seizes and its only 40 meters to the same rocky feild below. Cranking my flaps I manage to get out a finall destress call before my belly imapacts the earth. The terrible crashing noise fills the cockpit. Im thrown against the the flap and trim wheels on the side as a tree takes my right wing off mid
point and I get spun sidways. I hit a ditch and skip over it gettin thrown up sever meters in the air before crashing down again and slamming to a stop in a farmers brick wall. I undo my harness fight my way out of the wreck.

Stumbeling down the wall a bit I stop and take off my helmet and look back at the wreck. Its a total loss. The engine folded 90 degrees on impact of the wall. The right wings torn off and the left is folded up from hitting the wall. The tail, or whats left is more like an accourdian.

The Mustangs fly over rocking their wings in victory. Feeling very weak I can only slide down the wall to a sitting position and shake my fist at them. Soon this war will be over. I can hear people rushing up the road from the local village. to tired to wait I lay my head back and lose conciousness.