Time has passed by and I can only keep track of it by the things that I write here.  These pages that I write are, I believe, my own book of judgment.  Here in lies all my mistakes and all my accomplishments.
I wonder if this book of mine should ever come to an end.  I wonder if any one should ever pick it up and read what these pages hold.  I wonder if then I shall be finally judged and if so what the verdict will be.
But leafing through this book of mine I now realize that it holds not only my story but the stories of my mates.  I now wonder if maybe one day they to shall be judged by what I write upon these never ending pages.
The war, the never ending war.  When will it stop?  When will we finally be at peace?
It was a hard fought battle.  Twist was ours from the beginning of the operation.  The A26's lumbered off down the airfield.  Their engines rumbling across the field.  We were tasked with attacking Moggy and Centurion and capturing them if possible.  For us, the CMC, it was always possible.  We would do or die.  I gritted my teeth as the chill ran down my spine.  Our committing to battle was going to bring death to many including ourselves.  A quick prayer and I asked that I would never become numb to the pain and suffering that this war caused....  that I caused.... and suffered.  This then is the story of that operation.

Sweating profusely, KKen held tightly to the yoke as his plane continued to buffet fiercely.  Reaching down he yanked on the bomb bay door handle.  "Come on you old bird.  Hold together just a bit longer!"  Grr was leading with Jag-1 off to his starboard in their own A26's.  His bomb sights were lined up on their target which was the fuel bunkers at Moggy.  Pulling the bomb release switch eight bombs began their deadly descent.  His plane lurched at the sudden loss of 4,400 pounds.  Still keeping his eyes on the bomb sight he watched as his ordinance made contact with the fuel bunkers.  He could plainly see the shock waves rippling out from the ascending fireballs.  Target hit!  And then his bird shuddered and gave out its death cry as it came apart in a fiery explosion.  Modas gave out a cry of rage as he saw the enemy FW190 dive upon KKen's Invader destroying it with it's blazing sword of death.  Hitting his oxygen nitrate he dove for the offending FW190.
His bird began to scream as he passed through 350 knots.  The enemy pilot looked behind him to view the falling debris of his latest target.
His eyes opened in horror and fear when instead he saw the maw of hell opening for him.
Orion saw back and below himself enemy fighters climbing to get to himself and his WCO $-Mar.  Knowing that if they caught up to them they would both assuredly be dead he made the only decision he could ever possibly make.  Rolling his fully loaded Invader over and forcing her into a split-s maneuver he moved to engage the five climbing fighters.  "Good luck $-MAR" was all that was heard over the radio.
Pitching her to the port and then back again Orion made sure he had the full attention of the fighters.  And like fish to a hot lure they came for him.  Throttle to the firewall he then headed for the earth.  They were close.  He could see their tracers trying to find his bird.  She was buffeting hard now, the engines howling their fury and rage.  Death was coming.  He could feel it.  Over the deafening roar of the engines he thought for just a second that he could here the thunder of hooves.  And then with an unearthly shriek the wings tore away.....
Later, as the battle continued to rage over the control of Moggy and now the taking of Centurion.....
Boa yanked hard on the yoke.  His plane lurched to port and nosed down.  A couple of the less experienced enemy pilots tried putting lead into him at extreme range.  "that's it boys and girls.  Keep firing that precious ammo" he thought to himself.  "try this on for measure" he said to himself as he roared through a standing hangar at Moggy.  Looping up for a second pass on the hangars he saw that none of the five fighters chasing him tried to follow his daring example.  On the downward section of his loop the trailing fighter came into his cross hairs.  Depressing the trigger his bird spit forth the fire of death.  He could see a path of holes appear from the tail all the way to the engine.  Oil and smoke poured from the dead fighter as it continued its flight into the tarmac.  Only then did it erupt into an infernal fire ball.
For just a moment Boa thought he saw something walk right into the burning debris.  "What!?" he said shaking his head.  But what ever it was was gone.  Making two more passes through the open hangars he tried to get the remaining four fighters.  And then it was over.
Sub sonic bullets pierced his bird and himself and just before the pain over took him he opened his eyes to see a pair of large violet eyes before him.

Epilogue:
Wheel Chock sat waiting for him in his office.  Finally Boa entered and sat down at his desk.  Looking tired and somewhat haunted Boa finally looked up and said "Debrief me old friend."  "Casualties were high for us.
The objectives were met obviously.  Moggy fell to us first and then with some determination Centurion finally capitulated to us." said Wheel Chock as he read the statistics from his folder.  "How is the squad itself holding up?" queried Boa.  With a ragged sigh Wheel Chock spoke "That is very hard to determine, Boa.  Every one is happy that we succeeded but the emotional strain we all go through here is hard to gauge.  The best I can say is that everyone 'seems' to be handling everything okay."
"All right then Wheel Chock.  Make sure everyone gets a good couple of days R&R."  With that he quietly dismissed his friend.