Aspiring to become
Pilotlogs Page 9
Goshawk's pilotlog entry:
"Damn cats", he groaned. "Why won't those damn cats shut up?", he moaned even louder. The animals had been growling and spitting at each other for over an hour, and Goshawk was unable to return to the blissful slumber he sorely needed for his morning patrols.
"Gotta
be the gerries", he mumbled as he stared at the ceiling of
the hut. "Leave it to the damn gerries to drop their damn
pussies over here, for chrissake!"
From the core of his being, he began the plot to rid the base of
the melodious moonlight felines once and for all. It didn't
matter any more that the vermin creatures like the English brown
rats, and wolverines would begin to breed uncontrollably. He got
up from his cot, donned his pants, grabbed an empty duffel bag,
and crept out into the darkness.
The cats never saw him coming. They were so busy staring down
each other and growling their threats that Goshawk was easily
able to grab them by the scruff of their necks and deposit them
quickly into the bag. Within
15 minutes, he had acquired 10 cats, stuffed tightly into the
cloth duffel.
He returned to his hut, and as the sun was beginning to break
against the foggy horizon, he opened his footlocker and withdrew
a tin of clothespins. He then went back outside and sat in a
chair until the other pilots were up and about.
As the groggy pilots began shuffling out of their huts, Goshawk
gathered them around the edge of the field. After a few minutes,
cackles of laughter and pay chits began accumulating in
abundance.
"I'll go for the blonde one!", laughed Seahawk. He held
a handful of chits, and proferred them to Goshawk. They were
rapidly stuffed into the pocket of Gos's flight suit.
"I want that black beauty", stated Chickenhawk.
"Gimme odds on the red-headed one there", quipped Wolf.
Before long, Goshawk's flight suit pockets were overflowing with
the "funny money" that the British paymaster dished
out. It spent just like the good old fin back home, though.
The pilots lined up abreast along the edge of the tall grass at
the edge of the field. They extended their arms, and touched
fingertips. Trying to stifle their guffaws, they looked fixedly
at Goshawk, who was standing about 100 feet from them, and on the
grass landing strip.
Goshawk reached into the duffel bag, and grabbed the first soft
hairy puss he could get his hand upon. Pulling the beast quickly
from the bag, noticing that it was the red one. Wolf let out with
a yelp, realizing that he had won back his wager. To double it,
he would have to catch the critter before it made its way to the
safety of the tall grass.
Goshawk pulled a clothespin from his pocket and affixed it to the
tail of the animal. As the cat let out with a high pitched snarl,
Goshawk tossed it in the direction of the other pilots. The group
let out with a shout and the chase was on! The men tried as they
might to catch the puss before it reached the tall grass. The
feline, dashing back and forth, dodging the seemingly mad humans,
was certain that the source of pain in it's tail was from
something behind it, rushed around all the faster. Beaker was the
lucky bloke to catch the beast, and suffered a badly scratched
wrist in the process. He rapidly chucked the cat into the grass,
content upon getting his money. He would deal with the injury
later. Goshawk extracted the blonde one next, and fortunately for
Goshawk, it made the safety of the grass untouched.
And so the "pussy-pinning" game went, until Puma
happened upon the commotion.
"What the hell you guys doing to those poor animals?"
he beseached. The ire which was building inside started to become
discernible across his forehead, and the veins in his neck began
to swell. He walked up to Goshawk, and stared at the older pilot.
"You bettin' on the cats again, Goshawk?"
"Uh, yup, that's right, Puma", he responded. "You
don't like the kitties gettin' pinned, do ya?"
"Tell ya what, Gossie, you and me fly for that money you got
in your pocket, eh?" Puma pointed at Goshawk's bulging
pockets.
"OK, Puma, I'll take that bet!"
Goshawk dropped the duffel bag. The other pilots, anxious to
finally get ahold of the pussy-cats, began grabbing and flinging
the beasts. They chased the animals in all directions, each of
them squealing with glee at
the prospect of getting one.
Round one resulted in my taking Puma's Spit 14 apart with the 9.
Round 2 was the same. Round three, resulted in Puma tagging the
Spit 9. Puma, having left Goshawk with no choice but to take the
Spit 1A, tried to drag Goshawk into a tight turn fight. Puma got
pinned for a 3-0 loss.
[Salute], good hard fights Puma. I'll keep the chits!
MadDog's pilotlog entry:
Took to
the skies for the 3rd time vs. The Sandman Windigo. . . .
Round one I chose the SpitIX and he chose the 47D. A few shots
were exchanged and much circling and jockeying was done. Finally
I had an advantageous position high on his six and was following
him through a tight downward corkscrew - (man that thing can
dive!!) - when it occurred to me that I was losing altitude FAST!
I checked my alt and discovered I was at 1500 feet and going
Mach2, (ok, well . . . not that fast, but . . . ) and
so I pulled out succeeding in changing my rate of climb from
negative to positive at about 500' off the water. Unfortunately
for Windigo, he was a little lower and didn't pull out in time.
Round 2 Windigo chose the SpitIA, I decided to stick w/ the
SpitIX. We were locked in a one-circle fight at very low
altitude, very low speed. Eventually Windigo stalled out and took
another bath.
Round 3 Windigo chose the IA again, I again stayed in the IX.
This time I was actually able to score a number of hits and got
smoke. Feeling pretty confident w/ 2 wins behind me, I kept
circling back to get the confirmed kill. On one of those passes
Windigo pulled up hard for a desperation shot, but didn't have
the horsepower left in his dying engine to avoid the stall. At
that altitude he was a goner.
Good flyin' with you again Windigo . . . I don't think these
results in any way reflect our respective skills. Sorry to have
rushed off at the end, I was keeping my weekend houseguests
waiting in order to satisfy my addiction and fly our match!
See ya again soon.
Freight Train's pilotlog entry:
***** Me & GW
decided to fly best of 7 because...well, we're father and son and
just like beating the dog snot out of each other*****
Dear Mrs G.Wolf:
We regret to inform you that your Husband is missing in action
somewere near the English Channel. As far as we know this is what
happened.
Match 1
Greywolf - Spitfire Ia, Frieght Train - Tempest V
Greywolf was patroling at roughly 15,000 feet over the channel
when he a radio call that some druken conductor had stolen one of
the Tempest from a nearby Airfield. He tracked down the drunken
criminal and terminated his flight.
Later in the day....
Match 2
Greywolf (1) - Spit XIV, Frieght Train - 38J
Greywolf was patroling the channel when he heard over the radio
that the conductor had stolen yet another plane this time a
American built P-38. He huntend the drunken vagabond down and
again terminated his flight quickly. He returned to base for a
special assignment.
Match 3
Greywolf (2) - FW190D9, FreightTrain - Bf110
While test flying a stolen german FW-190d9 he spoted a lone BF110
Zeroster flying towards the British Coastline. Realizing he was
the only asset available to stop the German, he enged the plane
only to realize that this was the same drunken conductor. He must
have been disoriented after the last engagement and swam to the
wrong side of the channel.
Our intelligence
indicate that he wiped out a platoon of Germans and stole the
BF110. GW quickly sent the man of evil straight to the cold sea.
Match 4
Greywolf (3) P38H, Freight Train BF109
Again Greywolf was patroling the channel when he spoted a lone
109 of in the distance, he closed and engaged the bandit but was
unfortunatly shot down. Intelligence later confirmed that it was
the same conductor. He swam to shore and prepped for another
flight.
Match 5
Greywolf (3) Spit Ia, FrieghtTrain (1) 38j
As we interrogated the conductor he managed to escape and steal
yet another plane another American P38J. Greywolf took to the
skies after the delinquent but was quickly sent screaming back
into the waters. He also learned the conductor went by the name
"Effteee" and is believed to be a German spy, although
we haven't been able to confirm this. At the time we thought the
conductor also crashed but he some how managed to live and steal
another plane
Match 6
Greywolf (3) FW190d9, FrieghtTrain (2) BF109E
After hearing the news that the conductor had stolen another
plane, this time a recovered German 109, he ran to the first
plane he could find another recovered 190d9 and took after him.
But by this time the conductor was starting to sober up and
quickly downed him. He Swam back to shore and extremly upset he
was screaming something about "That youngster I'm gonna show
him how to fly a plane" and took off after him.
Match 7
Greywolf (3)38J, FrieghtTrain (3)P51
He engaged the conductor who was now very very hungover and in no
mood for jokes the fight went on for what seemed like hours
finally the man we now know as "Freight Train", a
former German pilot who was kicked out of Germany for attacking
and wounding a superior officer with broken propeller blade,
landed a fatal series of offensive manuvers and sent GW into the
icy sea. It has been 4 days since and we havent been able to find
any signs of your husband. We are Currently holding Freight Train
in custody while we decide whether to execute him for treason or
assign him to a squadron.
We will inform you as
soon as we receive word about your husband.
Regretfully,
Dept. of Defense
Meanwhile, across the English Channel
Dada's Pilotlog entry:
Oberleutenent
Miller nudged the throttle forward, kicking left rudder to swing
the nose of his bird onto the runway. He gingerly inched the
throttles toward the firewall, savoring the throbbing beauty of
this machine around him. He breathed with it. It's heart beat for
him. For what more could a hunter ask? Gathering speed, Dada
glanced up into the bright sun and clear sky. What a day. A day
meant only for two things: the stalk and the kill--
--Dada stood on both breaks as hard as he could risk without
tipping the nose over. What the hell was thet damn Feldwebel
doing rushing out into the middle of the runway like that? Dada
opened the canopy once he'd brought the plane safely to a stop.
"Are you out of your god damn mind?", he shouted!
Not a dumb man, the Feldwebel backed up a good ten paces from the
plane, "I'm sorry sir. Orders."
"What orders, Herr Feldwebel?", Dada asked very
reasonably.
The Feldwebel backed up several more paces, not deceived by
Dada's tone, "HQ sir. You are not to fly this plane today.
Your paperwork was...improper."
"Paperwork?" Dada spat incredulously.
"Sir, you neglected to file a proper Einz dash Drei in
time."
"NONSENSE! I did so."
"Yes, sir, but not in quintuplicate, with copies to the
Kommander, Gruppenfuherer, Staffel, National Archives, and, of
course, decendents of the Kaiser. Furthermore, your request was
not processed in time."
"Ach tu leiber! Herr Feldwebel, do you think some Scweinhund
Anglander plaguing our skies is really going to cry foul OVER MY
DAMNED IMPROPER EINZ DASH DREI!?"
Seeing that Dada had yet to make any move to leave the cockpit,
the Feldwebel felt safe to continue, "Yes sir, but it is
essential that we maintain proper procedure."
Dada had to chuckle, "And all this time, I thought the
essential thing was the destruction of the enemy."
"It is essential to maintain proper procedure."
"Ah yes, of course."
Realizing that he was indeed safe, the Feldwebel approached the
plane "Sir, you're tasked with evaluating those enemy planes
today. Herr Vapors is already waiting for you."
Dada acknowledged him with a disgusted wave of his hand.
The Feldwebel waited until Dada's gaze finally returned to him
and continued, "I'm really sorry, Oberleutnant, but it
is--"
"--essential that we maintain proper procedure. Yeah, yeah.
You may return to your desk to resume your part in our struggle,
Herr Feldwebel. I've heard you. I'm sure the very mention of our
bureaucracy brings the quaking Anglanders to their knees,"
Dada managed to grin, "Look on the bright side, at least you
are not Herr Vapors today."
All 3 rounds
Dada: Spit IX
Vapors, for some masochistic reason :): Spit IA
Round One: Very good one with me using my big speed advantage,
basically using the vertical and dictating the fight at will. I
finally wound up on his six and got to see a very nice fireball.
Round Two: Vapors did very well in not letting me get away with
the same tactics again and countered me pretty well. He actually
pingged me quite a bit, but so what, those 303's practically
bounce off. My big speed advantage still managed to keep me out
of serious trouble and Vap finally spun in--lucky for me.
Round Three: Vapors spun at the merge, but I didn't put him away
and overshot pretty badly. However, I managed to get my rear out
of dodge in time. We went around a bit and Vapors spun in.
Dada 3, Vapors 0
As always, S! for a great match buddy.
Back in Britain
U6's pilotlog entry:
Jabo wins
over U6
U6 2
Jabo 3
Planes we flew as I remember them.
SpitIXC
109g-6
p51-D
Match 1
Jabo Immediately flew an energy fight and manages to get kinetic
energy on me in the first pass. (Actually all the passes) He
pretty much stays above me as we twist and contort in all manner
of rolling and flat scissors. At the wave tops were both barrel
rolling around each other trying to get angles on each other.
I was
pretty much defensive the entire match but my chance finally came
at 120 knots and about 200 feet I manage (somehow) to get behind
Jabo. Im not sure he had a good track on me at that time or
perhaps
he was so low on energy that there was little he could do. My
bullets hit their mark and it was over
U6 1, Jabo 0
Match 2
Jabo manages to keep me defensive (again!) throughout a series of
totally disgusting loops, barrel rolls and flat scissors whereby
I'm ready to puke cause of the lack of progress I'm making. I'm
finding myself battling the plane more than Jabo and I manage to
give it away with a stall spin at 200 feet. Damm close too! I
actuall recovered that sucker (If only 10 more feet of altitide.
hehehe)
Jabo 1, U6 1
Match 3
A little laggy for both of us but we continue on. Were both
wagging and dinging, and spinning around in the clouds trying for
the 6 shot. My luck is better and I manage a few bursts at high
angle off but he's committed to the turn so I am able to track
long enough to let out a volly of bullets in desperation. He's at
about 1k and I'm at about 500 feet and about to stall. Were both
pretty much dry on 'nrg. Somehow I dont lose my plane and a few
bursts end it. I ask Jabo if we should redo but he says "no,
its 2-1"
u6-2, Jabo 1
We lost connect and had to finish next day.
Now were doing the 109g6
This time after some excruitingly painful loops swerves and
whatever we both stall at about the same time at 200 feet. DRAW,
so close! I was hitting myself upside the head for being such a
hotdog. smack!!
I will say this though. That Jabo manages to keep above or behind
me just about the whole time. I think he has rockets hidden in
that 109 :)
U6 2, Jabo 2
Again Jabo is pushing that 109 farther than I dare to and
although were both stalling and spinning all over Gods channel
air, somehow Jabo is always on my high 6 when I recover.
(geesus!) When he stalls out however I'm nowhere good to take to
take the advantage over him. I think I was on his 6 once but I'll
be darned if he didnt somehow take that away from me in the
clouds while spiraling down. :)
This time were really pushing the envelope and Im fighting the
plane again more than Jabo, who is managing somehow to stay
higher and at better angles.
Were both doing barrel rolls around each other at like 120 knots,
full flappers out, and in the yellow at 200 feet. Im just not
able to push it as well and I finally kill myself. Only my
jinking is saving my ass from his bullets but my own plane gets
me in the end as I lose it at 200 feet screaming at myself
(smack! upside the head).
Does it
matter how one dies?
U6 2 Jabo 3
I think not. Great flying Jabo.
All I can say is Jabo flew better than I and got me fair and
square by letting me push the envelope too far so as to kill
myself 3 times with spins at low altitude. I actually found
myself being rather spooked by the look of the waves down there
so my sincere respects to Jabo for making me scared of the water.
:)
Im sure Ill be wanting a re-match howbeit, maybe in a Hurricane?
:)
Great flying!
Moose's pilotlog entry:
"Bright...so bright" Squinting, Moose tried to make out
where he was. This made no sense at all. Everything was
faded...grey. And the base looked so different. And what the
hell? The normal outlines of F-15s on the ground were much
smaller prop planes.. "This must be a dream...has to be a
dream.." Moose mumbled, shaking himself. A figure suddenly
was beside Moose. "No it isn't. Don't you see, this is
Europe. Remember me?" - the figure was a much younger
looking Goshawk. Moose's brain started thinking...all he could
remember was images of a Coyote dancing across the tail of his
Eagle. Nothing made sense at all. "I don't get this at all
Gos, what happened?" "You don't have to understand it,
your here, grab a flight suit and get ready. I'll brief you
later. There's a German out there.." he pointed to the grey
sky, "Just go. If I recall you always wanted your dogfights
with guns, now you have them..."
1st Round - Moose: Spit IX, JG26: Spit IA
JG26 takes a bad round, smokes, and spins into the water...
2nd Round
- Moose: P-51D, JG26: Spit XIV
Again JG26 spins, thank god since he was on my tail the entire
time..
3rd ROund
- Moose: Me262A, JG26: FW-190D
Of all the battles, this was the best. He shot out one of my
engines, I started to run to gain distance. He lets me go. I turn
around, spin, break out of it, face him, we go head to head. My
cannon rip into his engine...he smokes, and spins once again.
Lady luck travelled back in time with me!
Moose 3
JG26 0
"Solar Arrow's" Pilotlog entry:
While walking back to ye olde tug, I noticed a strange pilot boarding his plane. I asked Starwolf, "Who is that strange lad?" He told me " Oh that, he is the great Moose, I haven't had the opportunity to throw him into the drink yet, but they tell me he is a good pilot. Every time I had wanted to hunt for moose meat, something happens and we can't fly. And now it is worse!!! There are two Mooses and people are beginning to get confused!!!."
I asked, " Who is the other one?"
He pointed toward a guy talking to a voluptuous woman with several missing teeth.
I said " Nahhhh , look they are different, that one has a 322 branded on his forehead!. They don't look alike for a mile!!!."
StarWolf said, "Ohhhhm you are right!!!! Now I can tell them apart!!!. Thanks Solar."
The Original Moose looked so peculiar that I approached his plane and asked him ,"May I take your photo? Sir? is for my wee kids back at home." He said, "sure...."
Strange friendly lad I say.
Maybe I will buy one of those flying things one of these days but for now ye Olde Tugboat will have to do until I upgrade to one of those PIII tugs.