moonbeam

aw3 eto#3

04/09/98

 
We are at it again, Exile mumbles to himself as he trims his two engines for optimum fuel consumption.  Long haul to that spit factory.  But so necessary once they had discovered its true identity.  A hidden mustard gas factory of all things.  They   had damaged it in their attempt to capture it during the Precision Operation but had been surprised by the large number of troops stationed at the sight.  Now they knew why.  And today he and the rest of Crimson were escorting the rest of the flights who were bringing in A26's and B17's to level the sight once and for all.
Surveillance photos had shown that a major effort was being made to rebuild and refortify the factory.
Shortly after take off an enemy spit had approached the buffs leaving Naughton Memorial and Boa had called for Awulf to dispatch him.  Shortly after that they had lost track of him and couldn't seem to raise him any where.  That was not good.  Exile only hoped that his radio was on the fritz.
It became apparent that the spit was still around and he finally went and ended up chasing off the enemy.  "Geez, I hope he didn't get wind of our buffs.  If so then he has likely warned his countrymen of their existence." Exile muttered to himself.
As the buffs continue to lumber towards their target, Exile manages to intercept and dispatch an enemy ME110 and P38.  From radio communications he gives a sigh of relief when he hears that with Smitty as his wing man Awulf manages a very lucky kill on a Hurricane that was trying to get to the leading edge of the bomber formation.  Good his radio is working again, were his quiet thoughts.
On impulse Exile suddenly decides to rev out and check out a suspicion of his.  Sure enough he finds four enemy fighters with in striking distance of the bombers he was protecting.
Punching his twin engines to 100 percent he moves to engage them before they get to close to his wards.  Calling over the radio he says "Peru keep cover on MiG and $-Mar.  I'm IN IN IN on these bogies!".  "Roger!" comes Peru's immediate reply.
He is soon over whelmed and drops his nose straight for the earth hoping to draw all the enemy with him.  With the wind screaming past his canopy he looks behind to see that all four are giving chase.  "Very good my little sheep.  Follow the shepherd where he leads" he laughs to himself.
It  took him till about 10,000 feet before he slowed up enough to regain his controls.  And then the dance began in earnest.  Guns blazed and cannons roared.  The five man furball lasted several minutes as Exile twisted and turned trying just to stay alive a little longer.  And then to his amazement three of the enemy broke off and left leaving a lone FW190.  It was at this point that he finally noticed that his bird had taken several bad hits.  HIs starboard engine was dead and his other was smoking badly.  And then grace smiled upon him as the FW190 floated in front of him for one second to long.  His cannons leapt to life as the FW190 was turned into a fireball.  Exile ducked as his P38 passed through the burning debris.  And with a look behind him he is shocked when he sees a pair of huge feathered wings unfurl from the falling debris.  And just for a second he sees the most beautiful woman attached to those wings.  She is holding his dead opponent and with each beat of her wings a bright light grows stronger  around her till he can't look at her any longer.
And then she and his opponent are gone.  Shaken he takes in his surroundings looking for further threats and seeing none he heads for home.
 He is on the deck with one engine and his oil leaking away.  With a quiet prayer he limps all the way from White Cat to Scragg and manages to bring he and his bird home in one piece.
As the rest of the mission progresses he comes up again to try to clear a path for the returning bombers.  It becomes apparent that the enemy had gone to great lengths to defend their mustard gas factory.  From bits of messages he finds out that their was a large number enemy fighters at the factory to protect it from just this sort of attack.  He is unsure how bombers have been damaged or lost but is not overly surprised at the large enemy fighter force that is directly in the path of the surviving bombers.
In the end he and Lemur fly back to Scragg after the last of the bombers make it home.  Between the two them they managed to take out about 8 of the 12 or so enemy fighters that were trying to block the buffs return home.
He is sitting on the tarmac in his P38's cockpit.  His heart has slowed and his adrenaline has run its course.  The sun is beginning to set casting a pinkish red color across the scattered clouds in the western sky.  This day he has been blessed with luck and has see yet another bizarre and somewhat frightening sight.  No one talks of these sightings and he is certain that everyone has seen them at least once.  Soon, he vows to himself,  soon their will be answers.  I swear by this!