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Short story contest: Describe your best moment!


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gunlion #1 Posted 10 February 2014 - 06:32 PM

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The enemy heavy fighter skimmed just meters above the ground, tilting its nose up in preparation to drop its explosive payload on our ground forces nestled at the western edge of the arctic region. The pilot was oblivious as I swooped in from behind, letting loose with a staccato burst from my 7.7 and 20mm machine guns. Instead of climbing, the enemy pilot gambled on trying to lose me in the terrain, diving low and navigating through a crevasse of winding ice. As I followed, snow behind me kicked up as an enemy fighter started firing at my rear; bullets perforated the sides of my fuselage, threatening to rupture my fuel tank, but I was undeterred going in for the kill on that HF! The heavy fighter and I turned an easy corner and my incendiary rounds blew out his tail, sending him crashing into the water. But the enemy fighter was still on my six...

 

Pilots, in many of our contests we give you the chance to flex your artistic muscles, but for this contest we want to see your writing chops! In 500 words or less, we want you to describe your best moment in World of Warplanes: tell us about that one hectic dogfight, the time you pulled off a tricky maneuver, or that lucky break that scored your team a victory! Whatever your favorite, most memorable moment is that makes you excited just recalling it, that's what we want to read about! You may write it as a descriptive short story (as above), as a military report--think of a real-life pilot giving a post-battle appraisal of what happened!--or any other type of creative writing, so long as it's within the 500-word limit. Post your entries directly as replies in this thread so your fellow Pilots can enjoy reading them as well! 

 

The deadline for this contest is next Monday, February 17, at 12:00 PM (noon) Pacific Time! Entries will be judged based on creativity, clarity, and as this is a writing contest we WILL be taking proper spelling and grammar into account! The prizes for the top three most well-crafted stories will be:

 

1st place: 5,000 gold

2nd place: 2,500 gold

3rd place: 1,000 gold

 

Get to punching those keys, Pilots!



Derp_McDerpington #2 Posted 10 February 2014 - 06:41 PM

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I hope you guys have lots of fun writing this im going to have fun reading it because 
English is not my strong point :P  



GUNDY_ #3 Posted 10 February 2014 - 06:54 PM

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Very cool. I'll pass this on.

* MAKE WOWP GREAT AGAIN :honoring:  fjb.*


Noreaga #4 Posted 10 February 2014 - 09:30 PM

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great idea ! 

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Rosebud #5 Posted 11 February 2014 - 01:09 AM

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~~The day had started with fifteen planes roaring down the tarmac and into the greying clouds. But now only one remained, Capt. Rosebud’s. His hands gripped the shaking yoke of his 110b as he glanced at his stricken port engine. He felt the air rushing through the fuselage from numerous bullet holes, his eyes stopping on his rear gunner who gave him the thumbs up.

 

Five enemy planes remained and time was running out. Capt. Rosebud had gained as much altitude as he could and scanned the deck for enemy bandits.
“5 o’clock low” screamed his rear gunner “3 bandits”


Capt. Rosebud swiveled his head and spotted the three fighters heading toward them from 3000 m. below. The plane rattled and moaned as the port wing lifted and the plane came about. Down came the 110b its guns blazing. Luckily the enemy pilots had spread themselves out allowing Capt. Rosebud to train his guns at the first, which quickly exploded into flames from his first short blast. Then he shifted his fire to the second who was foolishly driving straight on toward him. Boom the second plane exploded into a cloud of flames, leaving only the last. The third spun and twirled attempting to get behind Rosebuds plane. Bullets riddled the Bristol as it cleared the firing line and screamed down the starboard side of the 110b. Just as Rosebud began his turn he heard the rear gunner open up with his machine guns and then yelp with delight as the third enemy plane burst into flames diving ground ward.

 

“Two more to go” Thought Rosebud. One was a lumbering heavy attack and the other a nimble Spitfire. He pulled what was left of his plane toward home base just as a light came on his radar screen. There was the IL-2 pounding the ground targets with its massive 37mm cannons. He seemed oblivious to the danger as Rosebud came down from the clouds at his flank. A long blast sent bullets through his fuselage and set him on fire. Just as Rosebud began his second pass the rear gunner began firing. The Spitfire was on his tail and tracer rounds zipped past the cockpit. The starboard engine took a hit and began smoking.

 

This was it; Rosebud could hear the roar of the spitfire’s engine it was so close to his tail. Both engines dead he had only one chance… he hit he flaps and pulled back on the yoke. The Spitfire screamed underneath and Rosebud leveled the 110b for one do or die shot. The guns spit a stream of lead hitting the Spitfire just as he cleared and black smoke began to trail him. Then Rosebud fought the yoke over to give his rear gunner a clear shot. The rear gunner opened up with a long blast and then his guns went silent.


“I missed” he screamed to the cockpit.
“Just kidding…I got him” laughed the rear gunner.
“You scared the hell out of me…nice shot” yelled Rosebud back.
They both reacquired sight of the heavy attack plane just as she crashed into a radio tower.

Upon his return Capt. Rosebud was thoroughly dressed down by his engineers for the state of his plane and then bought a round of drinks for returning without a scratch.

 

 


Edited by Rosebud, 12 February 2014 - 01:01 AM.


 


Kiwiav8r #6 Posted 12 February 2014 - 07:48 PM

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 “Celebrating something are we?”  The journalist shouted over the top of the din in the packed country pub to a young man wearing the uniform and rank of an RAF Pilot Officer.

The young officers face exploded into a toothy grin.

“Oh for sure mate!  Come on over and I’ll tell you all about it.” 

The publican rolled his eyes as he poured the journalists pint and gave him back his change.

The journalist noticed the black rank slide on the shoulder of the Pilot Officers uniform with the words ‘New Zealand’ emblazoned on it.

After sitting around a cramped table and introduced to a rather drunk bunch of fighter pilots, the young Pilot Officer began.

“There we were, Chappo, Nugs and me.  Over some place in France I can barely pronounce,” which brought on a ripple of snickering from around the table.  The Kiwi continued enthusiastically.

“I’d just got my hands on a new Spit V as the Wingco was kind enough to let me fly one,” he paused long enough to take a long swig of his beer.

“So there we were at 6000 feet on CAP for a ground attack mission going in below us.  We’d been briefed about this nasty composite Axis squadron roaming the French skies so we were expecting company.”

“The first inkling something was up was the sound of Chappo over the radio saying he’s diving on 110E at right 2 o’clock low.  I prepared to follow him but I saw the shapes of two A6M1about to bounce us.”

“’Chappo break left and climb’ I shouted, then as they climbed up after him I waited till they were about to stall and let rip with my 20s.  In a matter of seconds both Zeroes were heading for the deck in flames.  The 110E hadn’t forgotten about Chappo either.  Despite Nugs best efforts to dissuade him, he climbed after Chappo as well,” the Pilot Officer gestured with his hands denoting the relative positions of both planes.

“As Chappo had topped out by this time he was flying level trying to regain airspeed the 110E climbed to intercept.  Unfortunately for the 110E his flight path led him right through my gunsight at 200m range and the combination of 20mm Hispano and 0.30cal Brownings relieved him of his health.  Three down in the space of ten seconds!”

The other pilots at the table were all eagerly reliving the dogfight themselves, hanging on his every word.  The Pilot Officer emptied his beer mug and set it down with a lengthy belch before continuing once more.

“By this time the back of the enemy attack had been broken.  On the return flight we encountered two captured IL-2’s, one a 2(t), both of which I disposed of after several passes.  I’d made Ace on my first flight in the V,” he sat back and let the reality of his last sentence sink in.

The journalist quietly left the pub after a suitable time had passed, he had his story.


"Credibility down, Kill Ratio up!" - Joe 'Hoser' Satrapa

Aces (pre v1.9):  Bulldog, A4N, Hawk III, F2A-1, I-16(e), Skua, Ar68, A6M1, P-36, XF4F-3, Bf-109B, Bf-110B, Bf-110 C6, Blenheim, Bf-109E, Bf-110E, P-40, P-40 M105, XFL-1, Spitfire I, M.20, Beaufighter, IL-2 (mod), XF4U-1, Mosquito, P-51A, Yak-7, Yak-1M, Bf-109F, La-5, Spitfire V, Me-410, F4U-1, Fw-190 A5, Yak-9, XP-50, P-39Q-15, Mustang Mk 1, P-38J, P-51D, Yak-9U, Bf-109G, La-7, Spitfire IX, A7M, Fw-190D, F7F, Yak-15, Me-262

 


TheWhiteRaven #7 Posted 12 February 2014 - 09:08 PM

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Cannon rounds hiss by from nearly 1,000 meters behind me, most sailing by harmlessly, some pinging off the sides of my Sally’s hull, a few, every now and then, thunking as they sink into the flesh of my P-51A while I coax her into one more roll, urging her to live, to thrive. My enemy is gaining, and I despair.

 

The deserter is firing on me from his damned Messerschmitt 410, his 30 millimeter cannons seeking relentlessly for my life’s blood. My maneuvering is availing me little, and so, desperate, I pull into a high yo-yo, my only hope now that his thrice-damned engines are too hot from the chase to gain in the climb. I have little hope for success. He was renowned for his prowess even before he joined the Germans; I am renowned for naught.

 

By the grace of whatever Gods watch over the skies, I twist and turn, evading cannon and machine gun bursts alike, taking only minor damage as I finish the loop and emerge from a lucky bank of clouds, now behind and above my enemy. Trails of thick black smoke linger behind me; the time has come for one of us to die. He chose to use his mighty engines and mass to dive away from me rather than follow, and he’s quickly escaping my guns’ meager but eager grasp. We take up the chase.

 

The lady in blue painted on Sally’s nose seems to reach for the traitor as I urge my Mustang onward. The wind screams as we tear through it, angry and grasping, trying with all its formidable might to rip us to so many shreds, but we are not to be denied. We gain.

 

The quickly approaching earth will be my enemy’s end -- he is too low to continue diving, and now his plane responds too sluggishly to maneuver. He has made his final mistake.

 

700 meters. 600 meters. 500 meters. Fire!

 

My .50 caliber guns cry out with joy as they tear into their enemy’s hide, exacting every cent of the toll that must be paid for having challenged us, the rulers of these skies. Flames erupt as I watch the deserter twist and turn helplessly, struggling as a mighty elephant might when set upon by a pride of hungry lionesses.

 

A wing rips free even as the flames consume all, and I watch now, finally releasing the breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding, as the traitor and his doomed machine spin helplessly to the earth.

 

We are avenged.

 

Edited by TheWhiteRaven, 12 February 2014 - 09:12 PM.

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G2Wolf #8 Posted 12 February 2014 - 10:28 PM

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We flew.
I pew-pew'd.
They QQ'd.

 

 

(I'm not a man of many words. Above story uses 256 bits, which is less than 500 bits)



TheWhiteRaven #9 Posted 12 February 2014 - 10:43 PM

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View PostG2Wolf, on 12 February 2014 - 04:28 PM, said:

We flew.
I pew-pew'd.
They QQ'd.

 

 

(I'm not a man of many words. Above story uses 256 bits, which is less than 500 bits)

 

I think that deserves a consolation prize if nothing else. A few more syllables and it could have been a hilarious haiku. :-D


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EnlightenU #10 Posted 12 February 2014 - 11:50 PM

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******IMMEDIATE ACTION*******

 

CLASSIFIED: EYES ONLY - Doc WG657-265 - 214A

Alpha element - EnlightenU - Von_Dutch761 -

Local-Plateau 07:30 Zulu

 

WG Command dispatched Alpha element to complete operation  "Furious". Encountered Heavy resistance. All aircraft destroyed except Alpha element -A268D

 

DEBRIEFING TRANSCRIPT: Operation "Furious" - Alpha Element leader - EnlightenU

"Dutch and I flew in and engaged 7 enemy aircraft, downing 6 without breaking a sweat. All enemy aircraft were destroyed except for one Zero. Dutch and I knew that Zero was the only thing standing in our way from completing operation "Furious"....so, being the only element left, we went after him. The engagement lasted more than 5 mins. This Zero was being flown by an extremely skilled pilot and he was doing things I didnt think could be done. All three aircraft sustained major damage, however, the last Zero was taken down at 07:48 Zulu when it collided with Dutch, killing both instantly."

 

WG Command has issued the Furious medal to EnlightenU and posthumously to Von -Dutch.

Alpha element leader: Reassigned

 

End Transmission.

 



XxpoztxX #11 Posted 13 February 2014 - 12:15 AM

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"FOR THE AMISH!" was the battle cry of a deranged pilot, His Bf 110-B loaded and ready. XxpoztxX was the kind of pilot who stared death in the face, then picked its nose. What kind of a mad man would charge into battle yelling "FOR THE AMISH!" he must be crazy. "I'm a mad man" he thought to himself, I'm a really mad man with a bogie in my sights. The battle had begun and although XxpoztxX was no Amish man he was determined to make them proud. The sound of the throttle opening on the Bf 110-B is enough to get any mans blood pumping. Onward he pressed with the intention of setting the world on fire. His first victim came into sight, An I-15 chasing one of his own. "Ha!, easy target I'll take him out and continue on my way." he thought. Hot lead poured out of his guns shredding the defenseless plane into a multitude of pieces. Little did they all know this would only be the beginning to one of the greatest flights. 

 

With one plane down XxpoztxX noticed that another flight member was in danger. Our hero changed directions and sent a few more rounds up the backside of another Bf 110-B destroying his second enemy. Further down he could see a Hawk-75M, needless to say he made quick work of it. Three enemies down and not a scratch on him. With his target in sight he swooped in to drop his payload, 2 x 250lbs bombs screamed toward the enemy base. Both bombs hit their mark and XxpoztxX was currently sending 4 x 7.92 bullets into the eyes of yet another enemy. The P-36 had no chance, how could he, after all he was being chased by a mad man. The destruction was far from over and XxpoztxX was hungry for an ace medal. He saw his next target, an F2A in the distance and a Hawk-75M that he had plugged a few rounds in. The Hawk was killed by a friendly giving our hero a chance to pursue an F2A. With a few more bursts of fire XxpoztxX earned his ace medal and his fifth kill, but its not over yet.

 

XxpoztxX was determined to make this great, this was for the Amish! The Blenheim that had fired on him before was now in sights and XxpoztxX was poised for revenge. He drooled as he fired his cannons and tore through the cockpit of his enemy. He laughed maniacally as he watched each bullet shred through the fuselage. The Blenheim was destroyed and through the smoke he spotted another enemy an FW-159, He made short work of this. Seven kills and the base destroyed, no more enemies in the skies, he did it. He had accomplished his mission and would return home to receive his Clostermann medal. The actual medal meant nothing to XxpoztxX his medal was the shrapnel of his enemies embedded in his plane, that was his prize! -End

 

 

 

This is a true story ... Here is the proof: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gx394vxvDGg

 



Davop #12 Posted 13 February 2014 - 12:34 AM

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I was 14 at the time, in the front seat of a little 1946 Piper Cub. You know the one almost always yellow with black trim and stripes. I was in the front seat getting some air time in the Civil Air Patrol so I could earn a restricted license to fly while on duty and supervised, I was pretty excited. We were flying in broken clouds but Long Lake Airfield was just a grass field with very few planes flying out of it. Suddenly out of the clouds right in front of me came a Japanese Zero fighter at full speed. It banked across our front and took off to the left as I screamed ( Yea, I did.)  The instructor pilot behind me simply laughed but it scared the hell out of me for sure. Not more than a minute or so the Zero was back making a pass at us from behind. I was told to just keep her straight and level and enjoy it, but in all honesty I was scared. This was six to eight months after the movie "Tora! Tora! Tora!" came out. The owner of the airfield had donated a Canadian trainer to the movie that they changed into the Zero's you saw on screen. He had gone to pick it up and bring it home and caught us in the air over his airfield. This was explained to me as the Zero came at us from the front again and passed over us. It scared me, but I will never forget the sight of that Zero coming out of the clouds at us on that first pass. Oh and the pilot of that Zero, that owned the airfield below us, his pilots license was signed by Wilber Wright as instructor, yea, THAT Wilber Wright.

 

Yea but mine is a real engagement with a Zero! That gotta account for something.


Edited by Davop, 13 February 2014 - 12:47 AM.


Ouiji_Apologist #13 Posted 13 February 2014 - 01:52 AM

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It was another fine battle that my team was winning. I was in my old I-16(e.), getting some final experience, for my commanders had informed me that if my I was experienced enough, I would be eligible for some extra skills to train in, therefore giving me quite the edge on the battlefield. I looked down at my controls. "Bah" I thought, as I realized I had packed my rockets. They were sure to slow me down, but I didn't worry, I knew the last plane was a slow Tsh-3, I had beaten them with ease before. Plus, I had already downed a couple of other planes, what was there to worry about in a third? However, as I looked down at my small yet reliable aircraft, I noticed a fine mist of fuel vaporizing into the air, courtesy of a bad encounter with the enemy's A5M. One lucky hit would send me in flames. To add to that unease, the rest of my mates were far behind, in their slow biplanes. A short while later, a red blip popped onto my radar. Another short while, and I could clearly define a fellow Soviet plane mauling my warships. "Wrong side, pal" I thought as I neared to a thousand meters. That enemy machine looked nice and healthy, in fine shape, despite all that flak it was getting. I rolled onto the tail of that last opponent determined and ready for the kill. That tail gunner immediately opened fire, but so did I. However, my four 7.62s soon were red hot, and that tail gunner kept pouring bullets in my wings, my cockpit, everywhere. Just when I thought I was gunner meat, the foolish attack pilot turned towards me. I looked down to check the status of my steaming machineguns, and saw my rockets. Almost as though my I-16 acted on its own, a salvo of two rockets immediately streamed towards the Tsh-3, missing not by much. I compensated my aim at the last moment, and fired my final two rockets. One of them hit the enemy beautifully, like some orb of death trailing a picturesque line of smoke, and that attack fighter collapsed right into the ocean. Amidst the compliments of my victorious team, I returned back to my hangar flushed with success. I stayed a little longer than I normally would have as I contemplated some new rockets I found refitted on my I-16. I decided to save the issue of what to do with them for later when I had a call from the Commissar. He informed me that I was at last eligible for some new training, but was needed for some new fights with the enemy. As I went back to the line of duty, I reflected on my opponent's final moments, the confusion that must have been on his mind when he realized his supposedly sturdy plane had collapsed to a single hit from my rocket.

Edited by AoSApocalypse, 13 February 2014 - 05:47 PM.


pyantoryng #14 Posted 13 February 2014 - 04:39 PM

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I sortied with my P-36 Hawk that day, with Madsen gondolas and M2 synchronized machine guns, per usual.

 

As I reached the battle airspace, I could not control the Hawk for some mysterious reason, but as soon as I managed to regain control I made a downward spiral and into attacking a BSh-2 - I was the only craft able to respond because the others were fighting in the enemy territory.

 

I kept shooting at the BSh-2 until both the Madsen and M2 were overheated. In desperation, I have decided to make a suicide attack...by landing on top of the BSh-2.

 

I flew slightly above him, raised my flaps, and slightly nose down, and he raised his nose. The entire length of my Hawk seemed to fuse into his craft. The thought of bailing out never crossed my mind at that moment...

 

I realized that I was still alive, my Hawk still somewhat intact, and I managed to shred the BSh-2 through and through somehow. I hurried to nose up the Hawk and pushed my engine to maximum before I hit the ground. I was still in action!

 

Within my immediate line of sight was a Bf 110 approaching from some distance away. I readied myself for another engagement. I managed to shot him down in close combat, but his rear gunner left my Hawk on its last legs, so I flew my Hawk down low and hid.

 

The enemy had lost their presence in the area and retreated soon after - I was the only one to return to base with my craft still intact.

 

To land on an Attack Aircraft, destroying it, and survive intact...I did it, but no one will believe it... I suppose it is better that way. I feel better remaining thin air, toiling away quietly over being a famous ace and getting all the glamor. Although, I wonder how did that BSh-2 pilot felt when his plane got crushed in such a manner...

 

 

 

 

 



SgtChambers #15 Posted 13 February 2014 - 09:25 PM

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We were flying on to Brussels,
turning barrels under trestles.
Trying to have ourselves a little fun.

 

Then things began to sour
as the Nazi's struck this hour.
Their radios abuzz, "There is only one!"

 

So Captain Robin took the wheel,
and the the crew began to squeel,
as we twist and turn and flee so desperately.

 

But Major Robin was a smoker
and our Private was named Joker.
I'll be damned! We had all been drinking heavily.

 

Hell, as bad as this could be
Joker turned and said to me,
I thought, "Whatever, it wouldn't hurt to have a laugh."

 

He says "Riddle to me this
and Riddle to me that......"
Last thing we ever heard was BUR-ATTA-TAT-TAT!



Roy_McMullet #16 Posted 13 February 2014 - 10:24 PM

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There was too much blood beginning to pool on the cockpit floor and Valentin, usually joking and alert, had only responded with grunts and mumbling since our Tsh-2 had taken fire from that lunatic in the FW 57.  He had dived in so close; I could tell his eyes were blue tinged with gray on his outer irises.  Sidor knew his gunner was bleeding out but could tell, by the erratic and, likely lethal, bursts of machine gun fire from behind him that he wouldn’t stop fighting till he couldn’t any more.

 

Sidor scanned a rapid 270 degrees as high and low as he could.  Two foolish, likely freshly commissioned, fighter pilots had meandered across his path; one a P-23 and the other an A5M.  The Tsh’s ten, 7.62 mm machine guns had spoken volumes to both aircraft in a matter of seconds and they lay below him no longer in a smoulder as they had begun slowly sinking into the desert oasis’ waters.  He now saw his countrymen (and women) at his 2 o’clock low.  It did not look like the two friendlies were faring well against the three fighters and batlike AO 192 in their furball.  Sidor gently set an angle of attack at the nearest enemy, another P-23, which had engaged his teammate.

 

Idling the engine, the Tsh slowly glided in and, at around 1000’, the ten machine guns began their deadly hymn again.  The P-23 exploded in a brief flash, seeming to remind Sidor of what an overripe tomato would do if crushed swiftly and suddenly.  That thought was gone in an instant as the AO 192 was, first heard, and then spotted by Sidor coming in from his 5 o’clock high.  Opening up the throttle on his M-17F, which Sidor found ironic considering it was really just a renamed BMW engine , he simultaneously pulled back on the yoke and found a large wing appear, then stay, in his gunsight.  There was again a tenfold bark of machinegun fire as he triggered his weapons in unison.  The AO pilot was focused, unfortunately for him and his gunner, on his own target and not the shredding metal of his fuselage.  It took an extra 5 seconds, but the AO found its fate as had the three before it.

 

Sweat began to sting his eyes as he stared nearly into the sun, which was the space recently occupied by the German heavy.  Gently pushing the stick forward he heard Valentin give a guttural roar unlike any he thought the man could utter.  Valentin’s weapon screamed and shell casings began to accumulate in the blood pool.  Sidor risked a look back and was rewarded with the flame and smoke plume that Valentin had created in a Hawk 75 that had risked facing his veteran tail gunner.  He also watched his comrade finally collapse exhaustedly.

 

“We’re taking her home, Valentin,” Sidor yelled as he banked his aircraft hard for base.

 

[Yup, gotta ace with this once.  I was pretty proud of it.  It was harrowing.  Also, excuse my creative liberties.  It is, after all, supposed to be a story, right?]


Edited by Roy_McMullet, 13 February 2014 - 10:30 PM.


Wing_Commander_Zero #17 Posted 13 February 2014 - 10:30 PM

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This is awesome I'm in.

_Laserguided_ #18 Posted 13 February 2014 - 10:36 PM

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Nice work so far.... Really enjoying these!


Because it feels to me like you guys would rather play with [edit] Laserguided and that [edit] me off. A [edit]  lot.  -- Auto

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Thanks zipper..-- Mars


Ishmar #19 Posted 14 February 2014 - 02:22 AM

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These are actually quite enjoyable and pleasant to read.

"They're just plane bullies!" - ************


WEBEUS #20 Posted 14 February 2014 - 06:10 AM

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I took off. I engaged. I died. fade to black. Roll the credits.

Edited by WEBEUS, 14 February 2014 - 06:10 AM.





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