Lou, I wonder if Swany’s gunner had something to do with that little engine fire. But I guess Chatwick’s itchy trigger finger is the least of Swany’s problems. It sounds almost as if Swanson’s flying career is over. What do those politicians think this is, a race?
MFair, jammed gun is his own fault. He didn’t heed the lessons of Jean Reno from Flyboys. Short bursts: tock, tock tock, tock.
Carrick, that is a nice rack! The only problem I see is that big enema sitting there waiting for you. Be warned!
Hasse, finally Julius gets some rest from those bloodthirsty Englanders. Sounds like an excuse to ditch that Eindecker for good. Be on the lookout for Bruno Stachel while testing these new toys.
2 Fokkers over St. Dié yesterday have been confirmed.
It was a clear day with excellent visibility. The two elements reached Colmar aerodrome unmolested and dropped their cargo. Every bomb found a target, be it a hangar, a storage shed, a tent or a plane. Mayhem was reigning down below. Both flights regrouped and headed for home. It seemed like routine mission until Toby looked over at his wingman, Flight Sub-Lieutenant Rick Knight. The man detached from the flight and took a dive. Toby’s eyes followed the odd behaviour of his wingman. It seemed odd until he noticed another plane and the reason for Knight’s actions. It appears one of the Fokkers attempted to sneak up behind Mulberry from below. He would have no warning before the German ship opened fire. Thank God for a vigilant wingman. He will have to buy the man a round or two, but for now it was all business. Two more Fokkers arrived on the scene and Toby made a diving attack on them. He picked the trailing monoplane, which had just peeled off. Toby continued to check his six, as he had no idea what the leader was up to. He lost him from sight when he followed his wingman down. Mulberry made a weak attempt and fired at the diving Eindecker. The Hun continued to drag him lower to the ground. They were now skimming the tops of the trees and Toby was astonished how strong the smell of pines was. It nearly masked the stench of the castor oil and the exhaust fumes. If he could somehow harvest this smell of pines and simply hang it on his windshield, it would make all his flights that much more pleasurable. The Boche in front couldn’t care less for the forest fragrance at the moment. His life was hanging by a thread. And then it happened, the engine stopped. It was dead and pulling the whole Eindecker down. The forest sprawled out in all directions and he had to make a landing. He was up the creek without a paddle. Mulberry knew that too and did not attempt to shoot at his foe anymore. The nature would take care of the rest. The Eindecker was floating lower every second, then with a great crack the tip of one of the pines caught the undercarriage of the airplane. The pine snapped, but so did the Fokker. The next pine sheared off the wing and the next one cut the fuselage in half. The fall of the monoplane had been arrested by the forest and then swallowed whole, never to be seen again. Toby found the rest of the flight above and followed them home. Rick Knight claimed his first Fokker.