2 August, 1916 06:45 morning mission
Proville, Flanders Sector
Kasta 17
Feldwebel Otto B von Kenobi
2 confirmed victories

They have just dropped their third bomb on the enemy army camp west of Arras. Otto could see his old observer, Gunther ahead manning the gun in the lead plane piloted by Thiede. Obi followed Thiede in a bank for the final bomb run. They were facing sun. That was their way out after they drop the bombs. That was also where a trio of Nieuports showed up. It was a familiar sight, except that now Obi had a completely inexperienced gunner, who couldn’t hit a barn door with a cow. How did it come to this? He elbowed the back of his “apprentice” to get his attention.
“- Get ready, Junge!” Obi wanted to yell in the boy’s ear, but it wouldn’t make any difference. His jab with the elbow would have to suffice. He watched the enemy approach from high up. The leader screamed past by with one of his wingmen, while the remaining one went after Gunther. That’s right! Gunther was in that plane ahead. Not Thiede, not his Kettefürher. Obi couldn’t give a tiny rat’s ass about his backstabbing leader. He was placing his machine in danger because of Gunther. He followed the pale blue two-seater with a brown-green scout on his tail. Otto aligned the French scout with his gunsight and fired. Hit! The Nieuport dove away, but another Nieuport took his place instantly. Otto looked back, the French leader was now on his tail. He performed a split S, losing his pursuer temporarily. Where was the other Roland? Just above and coming about. Obi fired again spooking the other Nieuport. Gunther’s tail was clear, but Otto picked up two Frenchmen in exchange.
“- Fire, Got verdammt! Fire!” von Kenobi raged at his gunner. Walter’s gun was silent. The youth was cowering with his arms shielding his face and his mouth twisted in a panicked caricature. Obi was in trouble. The Nieuports were right on top of him and firing. Fabric was getting shredded, wood splintering from the fuselage. Otto dove. A train station flashed beneath. Von Kenobi dropped his last bomb without taking aim. Bullets slapped his machine again. Obi jerked the control yoke, but there was no response. The control cables have been severed. There was nothing he could do. Another burst of enemy fire. He found it difficult to breathe. Blood soaked the front of his coat. He turned his head to look at his gunner. Walter's head was lolling lifelessly. The plane was listing into a dive. The ground came fast at him.

"Take the cylinder out of my kidneys,
The connecting rod out of my brain, my brain,
From out of my arse take the camshaft,
And assemble the engine again."