Pilotlog Page 14

Somewhere over the English Channel

Goshawk's pilotlog entry:

It is with grave sadness that I must inform you all that one of our ace pilots was lost over enemy lines this morning. "Vapors" was seen jumping from his damaged kite after being jumped by a pair of 109's. Although he put up a gallant effort, his craft suffered many serious hits, apparently. The French Underground has been informed of his last known location, and they have radioed that they will conduct a search as time and conditions permit. Senior agent "Gigi" was acknowledged to squeal with glee at the prospect of "Vapors" ability of unlimited expansion. Our thoughts and prayers are with "Vapors", and we hope that he falls into the arms of "Gigi" as soon as possible. If that occurs, we can only hope that he survives the insatiable appetite of that agent.

Being among the missing in action is fraught with danger on every front. Some of our pilots have managed to elude capture by the hun, only to fall victim of a slow but happy death by deprivation of body fluids at the hands (and other body parts) of that French beauty, "Gigi".

We wish Vapors a safe passage, and God speed.

That is all.

JIAN's Pilotlog entry:

It was a cold day when I walked out into the fresh air. My mind drifted back to the last mission I had gotten off of. It was the Infiltration of the Americian Advisor flight group Eagle squadron. I had to go into the very lion's den and learn their secrets and plans and disrupt their daily events. Even to the point of harrassing their NCO's and causing Bi-partisian divisions among the men. All of this I accomplished. Yet, I was not warned that I would develop friendships.. That I would begin to care of these enemies of mine. Their caring.. Their compassion. They were not the evil monsters of which I had been lead to believe. They we simply men fighting for their very existence. These few who stand alone against the darkness that falls each night on English soil. These few who each night face the overwhelming numbers of Ferocious wolves who decend upon the flock and release their
bomb's upon both civilians and military. They have no hope of survival yet they carry on the fight, even unto the edge of doom. These men,,,,, no,,,, these heroes are the one's I repaid kindness with treachery,,, friendship with deceit. I sicken even myself. I would not fault them should they see me in the skies to end my existence. My only excuse was my friends,,, I was following orders and doing my duty both as a former SS officer and current Luftwaffe officer.,,,Godspeed.

Flight one-Spitfire IVXE - Draw
Flight Two-Spitfire IVXE - Blackmagic spins
Flight Three-Spitfire IVXE - Draw
Flight Four-Spitfire IVXE - Collision
Flight Five-Spitfire IVXE - JIAN Loses a engine
Flight Six-ME-262 - Blackmagic Spins
Flight Seven-ME-262 - Blackmagic Dives and loses a engine

Final Talley, JIAN 3, Blackmagic 1, Draws 3
Blackmagic,, always a pleasure bud,, you're a good man and a great pilot. Had a blast!!!

Goshawk's pilotlog entry:

[Goshawk walks to the mike placed on the podium, clears his throat, adjusts his glasses, and begins to read from the paper in his hands.]
"Ahem"
"Gentlemen, it is with great pleasure that I announce our newest Ace pilot on the ladder. JIAN has brought great credit to himself and his unit, the 54th Greenhearts, by becoming our newest Ace pilot."

[Goshawk holds the paper at arm's length, then draws it close to his eyes, then extends it to arms length again. He is apparently having difficulty in making complete sense of the document.]

"Ahem"
"In scoring his 5th match victory, he has earned the rank of Hauptman, in the Luftwaffe, and has been awarded the Knight's Cross."

"Ahem" [Goshawk again strains to read the writing on the page.]

"Uh, in, uh, addition, uh, he has been uncovered as the unit's newest double agent pilot, and has been spying for the uh, motherland and fatherland as well."

"In uh, special recognition of his countless exploits for uh, both countries, as w-w-well as uh, his uncanny ability to shoot down both English as well as German planes with reckless abandon and thoughtless glee, he will be awarded his uh, medal at 0600 hours, tied to a wooden post, then summarily shot."
We wish him well.

[salute]
[Goshawk tosses the paper up into the air, as he turns and steps away from the podium.]

Sgt. Major MacCulloughy's response:

"HOLD THAT MAN!."
"YOU ORRIBLE LITTLE MAN YOU!. IF I EVER GET MY HANDS ON YOU
I'll SHOVE MY PACE STICK SO FAR UP YOUR ARSE YOU'RE TEETH
MARKS WILL BE INDENTED ON MY CANE".
YOU'RE NOT FIT TO WIPE MY DOGS ARSE YOU'RE NOT!.
I'LL GET YOU IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO YOU NASTY LITTLE MAN!

Goshawk's pilotlog entry:

Commander's report, GMT 0600 hours, 042140-something

This morning at 0600 hours, Hauptman JIAN was lashed to the pole at field's end, and provided with a last cigarette. He mentioned that we should pass his love and regards to his wife, and tell his commanders back home that he was a hero til the end.

Lt. Moose drew the short straw and was appointed as the firing squad to carry out the death sentence for JIAN in regard to the claim of espionage and High Treason.

Lt. Moose was provided a bullet to complete the task. Upon missing his shot from 50', Moose was provided with a clip of ammo, and allowed to seek whatever distance he felt the most accurate at.

Firing commenced at 0615 hours.

At 0630 hours, the field's Ordnance Officer was summoned to open the armory for additional ammo.

At 0825 hours, notice was provided to headquarters that additional ammunition supplies would be necessary to continue any defense of the field should enemy ground forces decide to attack the coast.

At 0945 hours, Lt. Moose was unable to continue the detail, due to his being covered in empty cartridge casings. A survey of any other available officers willing to carry out the task was made, however, the bystanders had long since gotten bored with it, and left.

As a result, all charges against JIAN have been dropped (again), and he is free to go back to business as usual.

The first pilot to best JIAN in open combat, shall be awarded a Good Conduct medal for their efforts. No further actions shall be taken towards JIAN for his past acts of spying.

JIAN's got his mind right now, I suspect.

Wouldn't you if you had Moose shooting at you?? Lord alive, he might shoot wild and you might get your eye poked out with the bloody thing.

That is all.

Enforcer's Pilotlog entry:

Almost asleep in my bunk after a wild afternoon this strange red light comes beaming through the open doorway moving slowly left and right.. As the figure gets closer my thought change from "what a cool light - I want one of those" to "what the .... is that!" I jump from my resting place nearly tripping as I try to get out from the blanket all while this "THING" is grabbing at me saying crap like "It is futile to resist us".. All I see is he, him the
one ugly beaming thing (note: I have not seen Locutis to accutely make this statement except for the expressed enjoyment of this debrief - thank god it wasnt classified like Roswell), if he's we then I'm not drinking Seahag's private stock anymore - this is one weird nightmare..

Flight 1 Enforcer 0 Locutis 1
Enforcer gets shredded from Locutis (he's all over me - get him off)..

Flight 2 Enforcer 1 Locutis 1
Enforcer regains a moment of sanity, courage and just plain balls and starts outslugging the half human car wreck (ok so now he's off me)..

Flight 3 Enforcer 2 Locutis 1
Knowing that any wiseguy from the neighborhood would never let a guy up and this was definitely not a guy from what I could make out I keep kicking the bejesus out of it until it rolls under my bunk (I got him on the ropes now - I wanna make him hurt real bad now)..

Flight 4 Enforcer 2 Locutis 2
After numerous attempts to strike each other (lag problems) I spin to try to bust over my bunk (dam I hope he doesnt live under my bunk) when an arm reaches out and rips the blanket out from under my feet sending me face first into the washbowl (I cant believe I spun it in like that, man I blew that one - I had him - almost)..

Flight 5 Enforcer 3 Locutis 2
Now that Im wide awake from shoving my face into the washbowl I realize that this "IS" for real, not a wierd dream - not a nightmare. Well maybe it is but it's hitting back. I'm gonna bust this guy up, I'm pissed I mutter as I jump to my feet and catch the Borg thing almost vertical. I dont remember what happened next except that when I came to my senses there was a mess all around my quarters and under my pillow was this really neat red beaming thing (whew it took along time to finish this guy off)..

Grabbing the last of Seahags' private stock (ok it says Duke's Private stock - but it's scratched out with Seahag's name in big red marker) I swallow a hearty gulp and wonder if I'll have another nightmare like the one I just had a run in with..

In the light of day I notice Im feeling bruised up.. Good match Locutis, I'd love to fly you again..

Moose's Pilotlog entry:

Something woke Moose awake with a start. He didn't know why, but for some reason he had the odd thought that someone was in his hangar. Some kind of plane-human mind meld. Quickly throwing his fatigues, Moose grabbed his pistol and flashlight.

The hangar was dark, but Moose's thoughts were right - there was a small lamp near his prized Spitfire with a figure hunched over it. "Take one step and you die - hands up where I can see them." As the unknown saboteur raised his hands, his right fist came forward as he turned around, and Moose never saw the wrench hit him.

"Moose, are you allright? Wake up Moose, c'mon, you've got to wake up! said the blurred figure of Goshawk. Moose opened his eyes slowly, trying to take in what was going on. He was still on the damp floor of the hangar, with a nasty lump on the front part of his head. "Thank god, we almost lost you! What in hell happened?" Moose hadn't a clue - the blow had erased his memory of the intruder, and his plane sat like it had before. "I guess I
must have fell Gos, I can't remember." Just then, Hangten walked up in his flight suit. He looked shocked, but he had something else on his mind - something that Moose had also forgotten about. "We have a match to fly, you ready?" Solar Arrow, the base's temporary medic, looked grim. "I don't think he can do anything, he should be checked some more. I can only do so much.." Moose scrambled to his feet. "No - I can fly, I'm allright.."
Moose 3, Hangten 1

Moose obviously forgot more then the incident - I can't remember much of any of the flights, tho we had many many many problems with lag, connections, crashes - the most trouble I've ever had with 2 computers ever. The saboteur must be caught!!!

Greasemonkey's Pilotlog entry:

Col. Mallory calls the petroleum monkey into his office, atop the Stratosphere in Las Vegas. Upon entering I snap a salute, he looks over at me with the phone against his ear and give a I don’t care return salute. As I position myself at parade rest he reaches over and turns on the speaker phone, but all I could hear was the deafening crackle and heavy labored breathing on the other end. The Col. looks up at me and asks what I think of my 3 weeks in "His town, and his base" ? I started into my escapades and the speaker erupts with laughter, Col. Mallory starts to blush but rips my head of to shut me up and to keep him from busting out into a deafening roar. Capt., I could care about that, it seems that your presence could be put to use elsewhere, back at your home base, he glances down at the phone and waves his hand palm up, inches over the speaker. "Huuummmm, sir, he cant see you gesture to him…" GREASEMONKEY the little white box jumps up off the table from the shear force of the volume "You better watch what you say, and that sarcastic tone of voice." I apologize to my commander and he informs me that I am needed in the sky back under his command, he is loosing way to many planes. After my last trip to the doctor he says that my liver could use a break from my liberal consumption of spirits in the city that never shuts down. "Yes sir, I will return immediately, I wanted to try my new shotgun out before I left so if he is still available then I want to go Fox hunting." My request being granted I pick up a few boxes of ammo (a few hundred) and return to my feathered commander.

We arrange our match rather quickly but due to lag we had to split it up over a couple days. The first 5 matches are kinda gray how they went down blow by blow, I will try to remember as best I can.

Round 1
Fox selects the tempest, big fast, slow turning huge gun having plane. Always avoiding head on shots, we do our initial maneuvers and I eventually end up getting in on his six. I fire away and notice that with as much as I hit his tail, he cant seem to pull up anymore, must have got his tail section.
Greasemonkey 1, Fox1 0

Round 2
He must know the tempest well, because he goes back to it, again we start chasing each other around again. During the horizontal elliptical loops we start getting cheap shots on each other, but I end up behind him and he starts with some really slick maneuvers, I had to back off a little so I would have time to follow his lead, I get him a little heavier as I donate some of my lead to the cause, he dives and starts to pull out of it, sort of a reverse
immleman/split s maneuver from about 3K feet I follow suite. My screen locks up andstays locked up, I drink a full Coors Light waiting for it to unstick but nothing so I had to kill the game. Later he says that he had me at 16 feet and 0 mph. We call it a draw.
Greasemonkey 1, Fox1 0, Draws 1

Round 3
I had to reboot to play this one as EAW didn’t want to run. Since we had a draw we went back to the same plane. This time, I find out why he likes it so, as I couldn’t get that furry little dog off my butt. He lays into me, damages a aileron, now this thing is really sluggish, and we start a turning match, working our speeds slower and slower, I slow it all the way down to 108 mph, full flaps and he zooms in quick. I try to out maneuver him but am unable to from the damage, he then damaged my engine and I start to glide it, as he passes me I get a few shots in, hoping a last ditch effort will work, but his boom and zoom didn’t let me hit him but a few times before I splashed down.
Greasemonkey 1, Fox1 1, Draws 1

Round 4
Since it is hard to get the Tempest to spin, must be one of the reasons he likes it, I go to a more nimble hairier aircraft. The P51, or spin machine. We fly around for a while, getting used to the different control and waiting for the perfect shot, since this holds less ammo. I start picking away, seeing chunks of fur flying around. He spins out and I already had a decent speed advantage, so I follow him a litte giving him something to run into then I use
my now drastic speed advantage to gain alt, he recovers low to the water but now I start the boom and zoom, he jinx to hard on one of my passes and washes behind his ears.
Greasemonkey 2, Fox1 1, Draws 1

Round 5
Back to the Tempest. Shortly after the merge another turning battle ensues but this time I am in favor the entire time, but he doesn’t want to duke it out turning and starts his maneuvers but I am getting used to the pattern of my new gun and he gets a lot of lead filling. I pop his engine and he starts smoking bad and slowing down. So I match speed and really start plinking away at him, he is loosing alt to keep flying, and he types one word
LAG, I noticed a little when his smoke trails zig up and down, but not bad. Only this time my screen locks up again. After killing EAW we meet back in CRC and call it a draw. He attempts a reboot but cant get back on.
Greasemonkey 2, Fox1 1, Draws 2

With him leaving down to visit someone, we refly that match a week later

Round 6
Tempest again as that was what we drew in. This one was shorter and sweet, no big loops, a few vertical loops then vertical scissors, and normal scissors. Then a few head on passes, I see a few puffs of smoke telling me I hit him but not bad. Then we start the chase after I get behind him, during all this cutting I tear up his engine, and again he doesn’t go down easily, not till I really tear control surfaces off his plane with my guns, as I make each
pass, as I didn’t want to get low and slow, I could make a mistake.
Greasemonkey 3, Fox1 1, Draws 2

Was a great match, flew a plane most don’t like to use, seems most like spits, but this was fun. Verry hard to predict this little pup, now I know why the rich like to hunt them. Hope to see you around Fox whenever ya want to get some air time give me a call.

Goshawk's Pilotlog entry:

It wasn't supposed to occur. Reports had been circulating that enemy activity this close to the English coast was unlikely. Enemy aircraft sightings were less, to the point that the RAF Command believed that the numbers of German fighter aircraft were (hopefully) severely decimated.

So, when Goshawk and Locutis patrolled the channel in search of enemy shipping activity or a stray bomber on a test flight, they were suprised to find a pair of 109's approaching high from the south.

The pair made visual contact in timely fashion, and were able to prepare for the sweeping slash-type attacks of the swift German planes. Cannons blazed as they passed, in perfect unison. Goshawk dodged the onslaught
of fiery slugs, dipping his wings and swinging the agile Spitfire to port. One round ripped through the outer wing surface, but made no apparent effect on the Spit's ability to maneuver.

"Damn", thought Goshawk, "that was close!" He decided to pay closer attention to the enemy's approach pattern, not wanting to take a chance with a lucky shot from the enemy.

"Schweinhunt Aynglanders", resounded across the airwaves, as the German pilots broadcasted their sentiment on the common radio channel.

Goshawk recognized the voice immediately, from the pre-war days of joint air training in the Pacific theater. "Why, that's Greywolf!", he stated with shock. Looking at the attitude of the wingman of the German team,
there was no question. Wile E Coyote was paired with the venerable old German Ace.

"These guys are good, Locutis! Watch yourself." announced Goshawk to his wingman. The pair split, each focusing on the enemy closest at hand.

For the next uncountable minutes (or seconds, it seemed) the pairs of warbirds coursed through the skies over the channel. Vapor trails and empty ejected shell casings filled the air, as the two teams of fighters maneuvered for an advantage on the other's six. The German planes swooped and slashed across the flightpath of the English fighters, and only the superb agility of the small Spitfires saved them from the pounding seige of bullets.

As one German craft engaged the attack on a Spitfire, the other waited in the wings, hoping that the first plane would draw the Spitfires to follow. As this occurred, the German wingman would sweep in onto the six of the
Spitfire, and try to down it with easy shots. The English pair worked in unison to warn the other of the approaching threats.

Eventually, the pair of German planes realized that the only way they were going to beat the pair of "Aynglanders" was to turn it out with them, and hope that the fireower advantage would prevail.

Wile made a slashing attack on Gos, then turned toward Locutis. Greywolf, knowing that Locutis would turn on the attacker, decided to stay close at hand, and partake in the opportunity to make a quick kill.

Goshawk, fortunately, was watching Greywolf, and saw the move to Locutis' 6:00 position. The prompt response and anticipation of the tactic allowed Goshawk to gain a closing position on Greywolf's tail. As Locutis saddled up
on the tail of the slowed 109 flown by Wile, Greywolf slowed to saddle up on Locutis.

As Greywolf saddled up on the rear of Locutis, in classic German fashion, he did not realize Goshawk's anticipated maneuver. Greywolf failed to notice the impending threat screaming up behind him.

Locutis sprayed a pattern of cannon and machine-gun fire at his target, Wile. Wile jinked fiercely, trying to avoid the onslaught. The airwaves of the German fighters burned with calls and alarms. Wile, wanting to "rope the dope" with the English pilot behind him, tried to fly relatively straight and use the speed of his plane to get away. LOcutis, staying with the jinks, watched the blazing rounds of Greywolf outline his aircraft.

"He's on me, I'm taking fire!", shouted Locutis into his mike.

At the same time, Goshawk brought the crosshairs of his charged cannons to bear onto Greywolf's craft. Goshawk squeezed the trigger, spraying several seconds of continuous fire into the fuselage of the grey and black fighter. Holes from the shells punctured across the German cross painted on the side of the craft, then
worked their way to the engine compartment. Heavy smoke began to pour from the German fighter. At the same time, bullets from Locutis' weapons found their mark in Wile's craft. Both German fighters rolled onto their sides and dropped from the skies within seconds of each other.

The propwash of the British planes dissipated the blackish smoke trails of the doomed enemy craft.

Within seconds, Locutis and Goshawk paired up again. Their patrol was resumed.

Another day's work.

As Locutis climbed beside Goshawk's craft, he looked over at the older pilot. "That was hairy", he radioed.

"Piece o' cake!", replied Goshawk. They flew on...

Puma's Pilotlog entry:

No 64 Squadron -RAF-
Hornchurch, England
May 1, 1944

Our squadron continues to fly training sorties between actual combat missions across the channel in preparation for operation overlord. Over my past few mission I have seen my marksmanship and my score go steadily down hill. After much consultation with other pilots and review of combat camera footage I am ready to try some new tactics beyond the regular turn and burn. My last mission with Meridian was interesting in that he used the Split S on me with great effect. I have not seen much of that maneuver but Meridian has mastered it like no other. I have been picking Cpt. "Xplat" Galo's brain daily trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with my flying lately. He responds that it not me, it that the competition is very good.

I finally convince him to go up with me for some 1 V 1 in the trusty Spit Mark IX. After checking out the aircraft we lift off and head to the training area just south of the airfield at Hounchurch. Upon arrival in the training area we are at 10,000 feet and split in opposite directions. Xsplat calls for a head on pass, guns free. At 20 miles we turn in toward each other and the fight is on. At 5 miles I pick up a tally on Xsplat. Soon I am able to pick out the muzzle flashes coming from his wing root. "Shit" I scream as I squeeze my own trigger. It is too late for puma! My plane explodes into a million pieces. I glance back hoping that Xsplat will get hit by a wing, tail, anything. Xsplat hits some debris and has his engine damaged but his is still flying. Xsplat 1 - Puma 0.

After obtaining a fresh machine we ride back out to the training area. On the way back out Xsplat reminds me (several times) not to neglect the possibility of a head on shot. I think the lesson has been learned (g). Xsplat again calls for a head on pass with guns free. This time instead of day dreaming and staring at the bullets that kill, I climb slightly above Ray. At the merge we both slice high into each other but I have a slight advantage from my earlier altitude advantage. We start a one circle turning fight with a slight advantage going to me. I slowly increase my advantage as the fight gets lower to the deck. Just as I am about the squeeze I am awakened from my death stare to the sound/feel of my aircraft buffeting and the sudden spin that always follows. Ahrrg! I spin toward the deck and recover with plenty of altitude. The only problem is that my prey is now filling my ass with lead. My engine is damaged but Xsplat has built up an enormous amount of speed and after one quick turn
Xsplat is out in front. Xsplat recognizes that he is in control and runs for safety. I am unable to close the gap with my engine belching smoke but I am not losing any speed.

After a few minutes I am shocked to see the range between Xsplat and myself closing. Xsplat again commits to a turning fight we return to our one circle turning fight. This time Xsplat is on the wrong end of a spin. As he is spinning I pump lead into his airframe and due untold damage. As it turns out I learn later that the damage done (to the tail) did not allow for a safe recovery from the spin and Xsplat bailed out before his aircraft crashed.
Puma 1 Xsplat 1.

We remount and return to the training area. A very quite flight out as I can tell that Xsplat is pissed about losing the round when he had it won. I assume the set up is the same for this match and we break and fly in opposite directions without saying a word. The merge is the same as the last and a one circle fight results. This continues until such time as we are less than 100 feet from the deck. I am very cautious about my speed at this altitude and in my caution I watch helplessly as Xsplat come around on my 6. Speeds are down to around 130knots
and just I fear the wrath of Xsplat. I watch as he loses control and spins into the drink. Puma 2, Xsplat 1.

Oh boy, know he is really pissed. The merge is the same but Xsplat goes to the pure vertical and somehow comes out right behind me. How did he do that? Within a few seconds I am hearing the impact of machine gun and cannon fire striking my airframe. Engine damage, flaps gone, Ailerons damaged, I think he damaged everything and the plane was totally out of control. I figured I would ride it out and wait for the explosion that never came. As I got closer to the ground I figured that it was a dumb idea to try to ride out the crash. So I bailed at about 2,000 feet. Well, I guess he was pissed. Puma 2, Xsplat 2.

OK now it is time to pull out my trump card. I had made arrangements previously with our American counterparts to borrow a pair of P47C Thunderbolts. Xsplat, feeling a little better after the last round, is dismayed to learn that the deciding round will be flown in these things. On our way out to the training area we play a little follow the leader to get a feel of the airframe. These planes are huge, drive like buses when compared to the Ferrari that is the Spitfire Mark IX. We call for a similar set up and at the merge we both slice into each other. This results in another neutral position one circle fight. Both pilots are very easy on the controls with the P47 and neither is willing to risk a spin. After what seemed like (and actually was) 20 minutes of turning we find ourselves on the deck. I see Xsplat getting below 50 feet and just as I start to relax I see his altitude rising. I have know idea how he avoided the waves. Xsplat's near death experience has provided him with a slight advantage as I broke my turn momentarily. We continue to wave hope for several more minutes each of us coming with in feet of the water. During this time Xsplat has converted his slight advantage into a good firing position. I later learn that as he pulled to apply the final blow he spun into the drink. It was over so fast I never saw him disappear. Puma 3 Xsplat 2.

We discussed the days training on the way back to Hornchuch and Xsplat was very gracious in heaping praise on me and my flying abilities. The truth of the matter is that although I will get the win in the log
books, we both know who won this fight. In these five rounds I only out flew him once. So today I get a victory when I should have lost. Well what the hell, I have lost some that I should have won so I will take it.

Thanx Ray!

Puma's Pilotlog entry:

No 64 Squadron -RAF-
Hornchurch, England
May 5, 1944

Well the last few days have boosted my confidence somewhat. In a training mission with Xsplat I was able to pull out the victory even though he clearly out flew me. The following day I was able to bagtwo Jerry 109's over Abbeville, and today I am scheduled for a day off. Off to London and a night of dancing and hopefully more. I inventory my essentials before departing the squad area. "hmm lets see, tooth brush, paste, condoms" I think aloud with a big grin. Just as I zip up my travel bag the runner comes in and tells me that the CO wants to see me. "Shit what did I do now", I wonder.

After entering the TACshack the CO introduces me to Meridian. "Yes sir we have met". "Puma, you still have those P47's on loan from the Yanks" asks the old man. "Yes sir" I respond already knowing what is coming. "Well Meridian flew all the way from this squadron at Biggin Hill just to get checked out in one before we return them. Take him up and show him a good time" orders the boss. As we leave the shack I cannot hide my disgust at missing a night with Betty Boo. "Don't worry mate she'll wait, there are only 200,000 yanks in town" Meridian laughs.

Soon we are in a echelon right formation heading for the training area. We separate and fly in opposite directions at the appointed time and at about 20 mile separation Meridian calls fights on. We both swing back into each other. As the distance decreases we both move out of plane to avoid a pure head on. As we pass each plane
slices high and into the other. The usual one circle neutral position is the result. The fight spirals earthward and before long we are hugging the deck. Slowly I start to gain angles and start to pop off shots. Meridian recognizing the situation reverses and we start a series of scissors. "Man this guy is a maneuvering fool" I say over the radio to all who will listen. I finally grow impatient (read DUMB) and pull harder even though the stall buffet is already quite severe. Splash! Meridian - 1 Puma - Stupid

We remount and try it again. This fight is almost an exact replay of the first minus the stupid. I gain altitude prior to the merge and when the fight starts down to the deck I am able to keep a few hundred feet above Meridian. This allows me to convert for speed if needed and at such low speed in the JUG he cannot pick his nose up to shoot me. Meridian, being the great pilot that his is, never allows a clean shot. He has every trick in the book and he uses them all with great effect, scissors from hell. I almost overshoot on a couple of occasions as Meridian uses a move I would not have done had I not flown against him before....ah but I have. (Sorry, will not divulge this. Most of you already know and us it anyway.) I counter the move and pump a steady stream of 50-cal into Meridian who slowly falls to the earth. Puma 1 Meridian 1.

This time Meridian decides that he does not like the JUG so we return in Spit Mark IX's. We use the same set up and at the merge I go for the pure vertical and Meridian slices away. "Hmm what's he up to" I think as I come over the top. I come screaming out of my loop right on top of Meridian but blow by without a shot. I pull up thinking he does not have the smash to follow....wrong. Now I get to show off my defensive prowess. Well it was a very short show as Meridian commences to ventilate my plane with machine gun and cannon fire. Before long my plane is a flaming rocket earthward. Time to bail Meridian - 2 Puma -1

Well back to the P47. We merge and slice into each other again. This time Meridian has a slight advantage. As I try desperately to pull my pig around my stall buffet is going crazy. At about 5000 feet I spin out. Meridian puts a few rounds into me for good measure but they cause no serious damage. I recover at about 1500 feet and to my amazement Meridian is right below me flying straight. I assume he thought I was going to bite the big one. I let him know that I have not crashed by putting some lead in his butt. Meridian jinx like wild but I have the best position I have had all night and the outcome is inevitable. Puma 2 Meridian 2

Well my flight suit is drenched in sweat and I am really stressing out with the way this contest is going. Back to the barracks for a quick change of cloths and we are back in the air. Spit Mark IX's will decide the match. Prior to the merge I again climb and have a slight advantage when Meridian makes his move. He goes to the vertical but at the top of his loop he is not as high as me so I wait for him to lose his energy. As he starts down the back side I dive in on him. Again my speed is too high and Meridian goes to the Split S "Shit I knew this was coming"
I scream. I try counter but black out only to wake with Meridian chewing away at me. I jinx left and right trying to foil his shot as my airspeed is much greater than his. Tracers whiz buy my canopy as I try everything to avoid them. (REALITY: honey where is the..... "Aaahhh!!" I yell at the top of my lungs in the general direction of my wife who scurries out of the room like a frightened mouse. Guess I have to buy some flowers tomorrow) Once I feel I have created enough separation I pull into the vertical. Looking over my shoulder there is Meridian at my deep 6. I come over the top and we meet head on. Ok I have gotten the fight back to neutral. We loop a couple more times and slowly the fight goes horizontal. We are turning over the waves. I drop all flaps and push a little harder on the rudder.

Slowly I gain the advantage. Before I can pull the trigger out come the scissors. We weave back and forth with me taking pot shots. Again never really able to get a good shot. The fight goes lower and lower and finally Meridian must straighten out in order to avoid becoming a submarine. Just the break I needed I place a long volley in the path of Meridian and I am rewarded with a long stream of black smoke belching from his engine.

I pull up to avoid the being killed by the dead. As I climb for safety I watch as Meridian struggles to keep his craft aloft. Realizing the Meridian cannot pull up to shoot at me I dive down and take a few pot shots at him. As I fly by I notice strange yellow things whizzing by my cockpit.

"Shit this is stupid", I pull out of the lead stream and climb away. I circle above as Meridian finds the English coast and a nice soft spot to land. I fly by and wag my wings as Meridian waves as he stands in the field next to his smoking plane.

Returning to my airfield I am met by Meridian who offers to buy me a brew. We spend the rest of the evening with the rest of the boys toasting the night away. The next morning I wake with one hell of a hangover. Staggering over to the sink I open my night bag, tooth brush, paste, condoms, "hell don't guess I'll get a chance
to use these any time soon". I toss them into the toilet and wander off to briefing.

SIDENOTE; We had two midairs and one warp-out. Between mission 4 and 5 Meridian was just about ready to kill me and he suddenly was in front of me. Being the gentleman that I am, I killed him :-) (do over). That should have been it with him winning but the ISP gods were with me.

SIDENOTE2; This may have been the best head to head match I have every had in any simulation. I literally had to take a shower after this match (lasted almost two hours) and I had to apologize to my wife (g) Thanx, Meridian you can be my wingman anytime!
Puma - out

Duke's Pilotlog entry:

The plane rolls to a stop, engine sputtering, coughing, then silence ... broken only by the ticking of the exhaust manifolds and the creak of the wings, settling from the overstress and abuse. The crew chief waits for Duke to jump out onto the wing ... and waits ... and ... nothing. Wondering what's the matter, hoping that Duke isn't injured, he rushes over to the plane, pulls his bulk up onto the wing and peels back the canopy cover.

"Sir, where's the Spit IX you flew off with ... GLORY BE! you're as white as a sheet! What's gotten into you man!? You look s'tho you've seen a ghost!"

"Chief," replies Duke, "worse than that ... ghosts I can handle, but mummies ..."

"Mummies! Saints preserve us! You didn't see 'The Pharoah' up there, did'ye? Ye' couldln't have, no one's ever come back to tell 'bout it, just screams on the radio ... here, let me help you out of the cockpit and get some good Irish whiskey in your belly, then you can tell me the whole story."

And so it was, that I sat there in shade of the wing, telling the chief about the last flight. I'd been patrolling the coast in a Spit IX, when out of nowhere, a 190-D zooms past me head-on, guns blazing, and this ... this apparition behind the controls, grinning madly, eyes shining as if light was pouring out of them while at the same time, as black and bottomless as pools of pitch, peering intently at me from a face ... well, I couldn't SEE a face, only
gauze wrappings, as if the pilot had been in some horrific accident. I was frozen solid, though I must admit the 'pings' of bullets richocheting off the cowling brought home the sense that this was no dream. I pulled hard over just in time to catch a glimpse of a strange marking on the tail, an Egyptian pyramid. That's when I realized I'd been attacked by "The Pharoah". Yes chief, he's real, there's no doubt about it, not just the ravings of men out too long in the skies, hallucinating ... he's VERY real ... and VERY deadly!

I followed him for a bit as he extended, then before I knew it, he's charging at me again! I jerked away as best I could, and pulled back again, trying to draw him into the fight. These head-on passes were scaring the heck of out me. The Pharoah would have none of it ... indeed, it was as if some evil spell was being woven, I was entranced by the incoming aircraft, the flash of the muzzles, the smoke coughing out of his guns ... THE FLAMES!! ... oh, the flames ... I only remember spiralling out of control, and flames everywhere ...

(Flight board review: Pharoah 1, Duke 0)

And suddenly, I'm in the air again ... but now I'm piloting a Typhoon, and there's that pilot again ... but this time, HE'S in the Spit IX and he's charging at me again! I shake my head to clear the spiderwebs and pull the trigger ... a lucky thing too, because I look back to see that he's trailing a line of smoke. This time, I extend out and come charging back in, avoiding his siren call to come fight on closer terms ... I slash again and again ... and suddenly, he's gone ... the skies are empty ... what the ...

(Flight board review: Loss of connection)

No, THERE HE IS AGAIN! Slash. Zoom. I can feel his magic working on me again, mesmerizing me as I watch him approach ... closer ... guns blazing ... closer ... KABOOM!

(Flight board review: Mid-air collision)

No, not again! The nightmare continues, but I feel stronger somehow, his spell isn't as strong, I manage to score some more hits and ... finally ... I SUCCEED!! I send the monster spiraling in flames to the Channel below.

(Flight board review: Pharoah 1, Duke 1)

I do a little victory roll, and the spinning makes my head woozy ... my eyes unfocus, then focus, then ... what's this, I'm in a Tempest now??!! ZOOM!! Past my canopy roars a screaming Pharoah in a 109-E4 ... this is a nightmare that won't end! We engage in more head on passes. I'll tell'ya, I HATE those passes!! Several slashing passes later, I succeed in landing enough hits to send the beast spiraling again.

(Flight board review: Pharoah 1, Duke 2)

I try to claw my way up for some altitude to get home, when I'm attacked again by the Pharoah in the plane he first appeared in ... a 190-D. Well, I'm feeling a bit more confident now, but I have to be careful he casts a powerful spell. I charge at him with all I've got, guns blazing, and at the last moment, I can't tell if he swerved, if I flinched ... or didn't flinch ... all I know is there was a horrific wrenching of metal, and the next thing I know, I'm
falling free of the plane, screaming ... the wind ... the noise ...

(Flight board review: Mid-air collision)

... suddenly, the only sound I hear is that of myself screaming. I'm back in the Tempest again, and there's the Pharoah, charging at me in the 190, the sound of cannons ripping into the plane ... then blackness ...

(Flight board review: Loss of connection)

I open my eyes, and I'm airborne again, and there he is ...will this NEVER end!! We charge repeatedly at each other like knights of old. I must have rattled him pretty good with some hits, because I see him suddenly breaking off and running away towards the mainland. I start to chase him down, taking a few long range shots to try and coax him into a fight, but hoarding my limited ammo. Finally, I catch up and we engage in some fierce close quarter combat ... looping, diving, stalling ... I see him flash in front of me and I pull on the trigger for all it's worth ... BOOM! A flash, and the 190 is heading for the drink.

(Flight board review: Pharoah 1, Duke 3)

Somehow, killing that plane, the same as the first plane, broke the spell, because he didn't reappear after that.

I looked at my watch, and OVER THREE HOURS had passed!!!!

Well chief, that's when I finally headed for home ... and this Tempest you see, well, that's the proof of my story. You KNOW I took off in a Spit ... answer me that, will'ya?!

The chief and I talked and drank for several hours ... somewhere along the way, he carried me to the barracks and laid me down on the bunk, where I've woken up enough to write this incredible story in my logbook.

It really happened, didn't it? I look out the window, and sure enough, there's a Tempest out there ... with three little pyramids under the canopy rail, and a bit of what looks like gauze hanging from the pitot tube. I'll be damned ...

Pharoah ... that had to be THE most gruelling match I've had in a LONG time. What with the connection problems, the warps, the crashes (both in the cockpit and on the desktop), the ADRENALINE SURGED HEAD ON CHARGES!! My parachute is stained. I HATE beak to beak fights, they scare the hell of out me!!

SALUTE!! You're a man to be reckoned with, and I suspect I'll have my reckoning all too soon!! :-)

Duke out

Kier's pilotlog entry: Farewell to "Thog"

Duri,      

I'm glad you've found something that'll make you happy. The way you described your job, the change of careers is a mental necessity. Besides, working on a ship oughta be a good opportunity. I figure you'll get back in shape, see the world, meet interesting people, and be a new character in any new Dirk Pitt novels.

I wonder how the author will do the description of your character?  

" On a cursory glance, Duri Price, appeared like any of the other new crewmen of the Rainier, but when he spied the German Bf110 he became steely-eyed, unable or unwanting to speak. He walked past Dirk towards the aircraft. The arctic air had preserved the plane well in the underground Nazi lair. The markings looked freshly painted after 50 years, the cannon rounds had never even swollen from a temperature change, the aircraft was as it was 50 years ago. Dirk Pitt had figured if he had to, he could use the P51 that was in the same condition alongside the Bf110. It was probably used to fly over the U.S. mainland for intelligence purposes. The P51D was a superb plan during it's time. After careful inspection, the Mustang and it's mechanical parts appeared to be in working order. Pitt fired up the engine and after a couple of tries the Rolls Royce was purring. But crewman Duri never paid it so much as a second glance. What did he see in the Bf110? Dirk looked at Duri again, and couldn't believe his eyes. Duri had found a can of spraypaint and stencils. He was writing something under the cockpit. As he walked over, he could make out the new name. Thog. Alarmed, Pitt asked him to stop and help ready the Mustang for it's flight. Time was ticking, and if he was ever going to save the crew from the Japanese helicopters, the Mustang was the best choice. He pleaded with Duri to get out of the cockpit and help ready the P51. Pitt was answered my the slam of the canopy and the backfire from the left engine as it turned over. This guy was going to take up the Bf110!

The right engine on the Bf110 turned over as Thog placed on a helmet he found along with the spray paint, flight jacket, Luger and stencils. Pitt rushed to the to the cockpit of the Mustang, and readied it for take off. The Bf110 taxied towards the underground runway, and increased the throttle.   Pitt was beside himself. This new crewman (a pollywog at that) had completely ignored his instructions. He never had this problem with Duri earlier aboard the Rainier. Duri was an eager learner, following all his instructions and tasks unfailingly. Now this. Perhaps there was something Pitt missed about him. He tried to remember if Duri had mentioned being a pilot on his resume. All he could recall about the guy was Price being a computer guru with an unusual penchant for video games. He struggled to think how Donkey Kong and Legend of Zelda would make this guy think he could fly a World War II vintage aircraft.   The Bf110 was out of the underground lair. Pitt applied more throttle as the Mustang's gear left the tarmac. Below him was a 3 thousand foot drop to the bay below. Amazing! The underground base had been carved inside the mountain!

The Rainier was anchored below him in the bay. The crew of the ship had thought that first plane, the Bf110, was the one Dirk Pitt was flying. The way the pilot inverted immediately after take-off, dove on the ship, and buzzed the bridge - well, it could only have been The Dirk Pitt at the controls. They were, to the man, completely wrong.   Pitt caught sight of the Bf110 as it passed the stern of the Rainier. The crew was visibly cheering the other pilot. As the Mustang came out of the mountain, the crew collectively balked. Which one was Pitt? Who was the other pilot? Pitt quickly used the still functional radio to contact the Rainier, "Ranier this is Pitt, how do you copy?" The captain of the Rainier grabbed the mike, "Pitt this is Ranier. If you ever pull a stunt like that again, I'll personally keel haul your happy ass." Pitt said, "It wasn't me - I'm in the second plane. The other one is Duri. Where are the Japanese aircraft? I need a vector."

The correct heading of the attacking helicopters was given. Pitt attempted to contact Duri. Hopefully he would tune to the channel with the traffic on it, "Price this is Pitt, do you copy?" "Price this is Pitt." Frustrated he yelled, "Thog!"

A grunt was his reply.

Tentatively, he tried again on the same frequency, "Thog?" Another grunt. Pitt wondered if he had been injured. "Thog this is Pitt, are you able to fly?" Now an exasperated grunt was the answer, along with some visible waggling of the Bf110 wings as it climbed higher. Pitt thought there were some serious problems that Thog needed addressed. But they concerned social graces, and could (quite frankly) wait. The two planes climbed to 10,000 feet and Pitt naturally took the lead. Thog gunned the engines and took lead, too. This continued until Thog felt his engines couldn't keep up with his imputent wing man. The two enemy aircraft were below at 2000 feet, headed towards the Ranier. Pitt dove on the lead aircraft. Thog rolled his eyes when he saw "Drama Boy" compress from a too-steep dive, and pass in front of the targets. Pitt struggled with the controls to avoid the ground, missing it barely. Pitt was furious. He misjudged the dive, and lost precious seconds to reacquire a target.

Thog saddled behind the enemy flight. He started with the 20mm cannon. The helicopter's tail rotor was the first thing to be disintegrated, causing it to turn sideways in-flight for a split-second before the 30mm cannon rounds killed everyone and and everything inside of it. Thog watched unblinking as he inverted and flew above the fresh field of debris still suspended in mid-air. Inexplicably he was inspired to make a new computer game. If technology was good enough, he'd make damn sure that the insulatory batting and body parts were all modeled. Blood splatters on the windshield could be another realism setting.

The second helicopter dove away from the carnage. Inside of it, the assault troops could see the antique German aircraft alongside of them - staying alongside of them! The pilot of it was visible and was staring at the helicopters occupants. One of the Japanese mercenaries, got unbuckled to get up and open the cargo door. By the time he did that the Bf110's canopy was already opened. A Luger was pointed at his helicopter's pilot from 20 feet away. He readied his weapon, but fell back from a bullet in the middle of his forehead. Apparently at 200 mph it only looks like the gun is pointed away from you. Something about the physical forces involved made the bullet curve. Apparently the pilot of the German Aircraft knew these things.    

Well, maybe that's how it'd read.   

Keir 

Locutis' pilotlog entry:

The only thing worse than being stuck on an island cut off from the collective was the constant yammer of the unconnected carbon based beings on this island. All I want to do is fix my Cube and get back to the collective but these beings are constantly demanding my time. Once in while they try to get me to ingest some kind of toxic poison at their “Officers lounge” and then call on some kind of human emotion, slagging my race in an effort to
make me fly with them. This always ends in one of them losing his aircraft in the water surrounding our island. It seems this is some kind of passage for them as they wait for orders from their command ship far away on some remote portion of the planet that I have not seen. ( I have not told them that Borg are not susceptible to their toxic liquid) There are times when the enemy these beings are at war with appear over the waters of their island. I
have noticed that at this time these pilots fly with the same precision that my own race operates at. This was not one of those times …

I was working on my cube , torn and damaged so badly that I calculate it will take several years to repair it when Saber came by jolted me with a swift kick in the lower region of my torso. “ Hey you tincan half man no emotion assimilating nightmare!” he slurred through the obvious effects of his favorite toxin. “I have no time for your futile liquid today“, I said wanting only to return to my repairs. “You pious bastard“, he sprayed at me. “I can whip you blind folded and ill prove it , take the plane at the end of the runway, its mine and if you beat me you can disassemble it and use the parts for your repairs“. He said it as though he had some kind of weapon held against my head. Indeed there were some minor parts I could use in my repairs. “I will fly against you in exchange for your aircraft“, I said. “You have to defeat me first you metallic freak!", he stammered under the effects of his intoxication. “You had better wait till dawn tomorrow or you will not be able to navigate your aircraft.” “Agreethed“, he said and staggered off to the officers hut.

I could hear him inside telling everyone how he had challenged me. I could hear the replies from where I was. “Are you blooming crazy?” I heard. “That thing has taken out 14 planes already and you wanna give him a chance to take out another one?“

“I will have no problem with him we fly at dawn!”

I returned to my repairs occasionally hear what sounded like some kind of wagering among the other pilots.

I awoke from my repaired regeneration chamber at approximately 6:00 am I went out to the aircraft I was to fly and checked it over for sabotage. No signs, I climbed in and took to the skies looking for my opponent. Throttling up my loaned FW190 I scanned the skyline for Saber. I picked up no visual sign but my keen olfactory organ picked up the slight odor of saber’s favorite brew. I followed and soon I picked up on the closing airframe of another FW190….

Match 1

We pass and I can see Saber is climbing for a stall fight, I equalize his maneuver and we start the high alt maneuvers. After a few rounds I have the angle I need , I search for his engine and place 7 rounds into it. His FW smoking wildly Saber hits the deck and tried in vain to get an overshoot. It was to no avail as I ripped him up with a few more shots and then conserved my weapons for the next fight. 11.8 % 1-0

Match 2

Again in the FW190 I climb to meet the ever advancing Saber. He squaks out over the open radio “ok that was a freebee”. I start to think he is right when he manages to achieve a fast position on my 6. I hit the deck wildly try to shake him , at one point I feel I have achieved an overshoot when he yanks open his cockpit for extra drag and falls in behind me guns blazing for all their worth. He gets my engine and soon I am struggling to stay afloat , (Borg are heavy) 1-1

Now I have to use my own aircraft taken from Puma as spoils of war. I jump imto my Spit 9 and take to the skies , finding saber quickly I perform the Borg manuver to its fullest cababilities and wind up on Sabers posterior close enough to see the look on his face when I open up with both guns and ASSIMILATE his plane. 2-1 21 %

Match 3

I switch back to the FW190 as I had used up all my ammo on Sabers spitfire. We pass and I immediately grab alt and we start a strong vertical fight, after a few loops I start to get an angle but Saber dives down and then goes vertical pulling a heavy G turn. I stay with him for several seconds my oculare gear blurred and dim , I end up just under his belly, yank the stick for supreme angle and let loose with a vicious blast (it was really mean even
for the Borg) and Saber’s craft falls to pieces. 3-1 14.1 %

Saber you are going to be pissed enough to fly me real soon. I am sure the outcome will be far different. S!

Yentl's pilotlog entry:

Although we are squadmates and will go down in flames watching each others six in combat! Me and Xsplat have a long history of friendly rivalry! A while back We took to the training arena to see who was the best and I won by a small margin! I think Xsplat felt that lady luck was to blame so he challenged me again. I was a bit uneasy accepting the challenge cause I was under the impression that not only was the Lucky Lady on my side but was riding on my wing our last joust! We met over the channel in a couple of 110's that had been repaired by our boys so that we could become familiar with the enemas iron. After a few blazing passes Xsplat comes reaches the top without enough gogo juice and flat spins the nazi dog. I proceed to start chopping away at his aircraft but at 500 feet I realize that Newton and his laws would win the battle for me.
Yentl 1, Xsplat 0

We decide for our second round we would try some US ARMY iron. P47C's were the the weapons of the day. PING PING PING is all I heard pass after pass. I was starting to worry when that fat chick on my wing blinks and next thing I know Xsplat is stalling right in front of me! I slow down and and thanks to a quick recovery by Xsplat im glued to his six. I fire my 8 machin guns at him and his tail goes boooooom!!! So far so good!
Yentl 2, Xspalt 0

Xsplat new this was the deciding round so he decides on something we are all used to flying daily the Spit IX. I was sweating 1 mistake in the Spit and ur toast! Again PING PING PING I was hopin that my armor would hold and that the Lucky bitch on my wing (ooops can you say bitch?) female dog right 8) would change the path of his lead just a bit so that it would miss any vital organs. After a few passes he comin up under me so I dive straight down and within 500 feet i begin to pour it on. WOW !what a cool explosion and a big sigh of relief as his engine blows up and pieces of his plane fall off!!
Yentl 3, Xsplat 0

Great fight Xsplat! I hope this doesnt affect your wingman abilities 8) I know that we are both better pilots because of our training joust. So im sure we will be waxing many planes off the others AC in the months or years left in this bloody war!!!

Puma's pilotlog entry:

No 64 Squadron -RAF-
Hornchurch, England
May 11, 1944

The squadron continues to train everyday for Operation Overloard, the invasion of Europe. We have been told that the Luftwaffe will not be a factor but every time we fly over there it seems the sky is filled with 109's and 190's. I am happy to get all the training I can. Today I draw Duke, an old friend from years back. We have
flown everything against each other at one time or another with me usually taking the worst of it. The good thing is that I never go away from a mission with Duke without learning something. I look forward to this aerial reunion. Additionally we will get to try out the new D model Mustangs! The lines on that thing look better than any plane I have ever seen.

On the flight line we get some ground familiarization and soon we are running up the Merlin engines. Nothing sound like a Merlin. On the way to the practice area we play a little follow the leader to get used to the handling characteristics of the plane. Soon we split up in preparation for the merge. At 20 miles the fight
is on:

At the merge our rate of closure is very high and we flash by each other slicing high. I pull a little to hard and even at speeds in excess of 200mph I manage to spin my Mustang. "Throttle back to idle and full opposite rudder" I talk myself through the procedure. I recover in no time but I fear I have given the round to Duke. I swing my Mustang around just in time to catch Duke recovering from his own spin. We end the spin contest in a neutral position and Duke having a slight altitude advantage. We circle to the deck and soon I am force to break my turn and the mist from the channel is starting to splash against my canopy. Doing this give Duke a good firing position and I start to jinx back and forth trying to foil his shot. Soon I have put some distance between us and I am able to climb to about 2000 feet with Duke in trail. I check my speed and go pure vertical...easy on the stick. Duke does not have the speed to follow and I come around on his tail. Now it is Dukes turn to some me some defensive moves. He starts a series of scissors and put a burst into him each time he flashes past my gun sight.
Eventually I am able to time the shot correctly and I am rewarded with a long stream of black smoke coming from Duke's engine manifold.
Puma1 Duke 0

Duke decides that the Mustang is not the ride for him and we remount in the Tempest. This time at the merge I get cute and go pure vertical while Duke slices high. "Well shit this didn't work" I think as Duke comes around on my tail with cannons ablaze. Well I have plenty of smash so I pull back into the vertical and loop again. Duke follows. At the bottom of the loop I roll over and split S (Meridian move). I think Duke figured I was going to continue into another loop because he started up momentarily. As a result I was able to put sufficient distance between us and as Duke attempted to close the distance I went back to the vertical and looped around taking a quick shot at him as we passed (I found out later that I damaged his flaps with this shot). We settled into a turning fight but minus his flaps it was just a matter of time before I was saddled up behind hime. A few cannon shots later Duke's engine is engulfed in flames and smoke. I pulled up to avoid the debris and flames as Duke spiraled into the channel.
Puma 2 Duke 0

We re-engage in Tempest again and again Duke comes out of the merge in great position. I wait for the right opportunity and attempt to dive away and escape. Oops forgot my flaps, did a little damage to my flaps and because of the drag was unable to get any distance. The fight gets real slow and real low. I figure that I am dead anyway so I go for a loop with the minimum airspeed. Again easy on the stick I make it over the top but so does Duke. We repeat this at least 4 times and each time Duke gets closer to killing me. I then start to turn the fight horizontal and attempt to lower my flaps (airspeed around 135mph). To my great relief the flaps deploy! Duke is flying about 20mph faster than I and soon I am out of trouble and we are neutral. As we hug the deck, I watch as Duke almost bounces his Tempest off the waves. He straightens out just for a second. I seize the momentum and start to pop off rounds at Duke. Soon his engine is hit and trailing smoke. Again I climb for the safety and watch as Duke drops into the ocean below.
Puma 3 Duke 0

Nice match Duke! I know you were off tonight as you had the advantage in all these rounds. I have flown you enough times in all kinds of sims to know that when you have the advantage it is usually the end for your opponent. Tough breaks tonight.
Kill me next time!

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