Just like to thank SimHQ for providing me with a dedicated DIH thread to post my thrilling adventures. Doesn't anyone else get up at 0400 on the weekends to get some flight time in?
Tuesday 24 April 1917. Newly minted Captain DIH leads his flight on the morning Line Patrol. Over the front lines I observe a group of about 6 or 7 specks heading toward another group of 6 specks. I get all excited and plan on joining this massive upcoming furball. I must have been daydreaming about glory before I realized they were all Huns. I attempted to steer my flight away to gain a better position, and thought I did, when tracers fly by my head from behind. Yikes! Didn't realize I was so close! At least two Alb's are on my tail. Do a modified Split-S to evade and give the order to attack. It's a aerial madhouse and I don't even think of sticking to a target but fire short bursts as Huns cross my nose. I get a nice snap shot at a Hun head-on and he puffs smoke and rolls away but there are plenty more. Swarming around like bees the whole mess gradually descends to lower heights when I suddenly find myself all alone. Look around for my flight and see three specks with Hun AA bursting around them. As I watch one of the specks drops like a stone with another after it. Hope the good guys are winning there. Peeping over the side of my cockpit I see a Hun flying the same direction as I at about 500'. I dive on him like a hawk. One pass one kill!
Resuming course toward the now sporadic AA fire I now realize that there are a lot of aircraft around - and all are Huns that I can see. Make for one and, in a check on my tail, I see this guy trying to line up on me. In a turn fight that went from 500' to about 20' I start to quake when I am suddenly on his tail. A 3 second burst and its all over. Huzzah!
Fly back on my own as no friendly aircraft are in sight. I start wondering how the Brits will treat a American flight commander that loses his whole flight? Back at base I find, much to my surprise, that all are safe and that madman Maxwell is claiming 3. I put in my claims for 2. A Flight, without firing a shot, loses 2 of our boys. Lead the afternoon patrol in the hazy sunshine (PR Weather Mod Lite) but see nothing except a smoking British two-seater struggling to regain friendly territory.