SOAP 16
Captain Beauregard, pilot, sat in the briefing room next to his best friend and navigator, Lt Prewitt on October 14, 1943. Everyone there, door locked, cover came off the map.
The whole room groaned loudly - Schweinfurt - the ball and roller bearing plant - again. Flak so thick you could walk on it.
After the briefing, Capt Beauregard put his arm on Lt Prewitt's shoulder, "just our luck, happens to us on Mission 25." Mission 25 was end of tour, rotate to a safe job. In fact these 2 were the only ones left alive of the original 10 man crew, lost track of how many replacements they'd gone through. They'd spent 24 hours together in a brutally cold rubber raft. Brought back 4 planes with Class E damage - beyond all repair.
Their fighter escort turned back near Eupen, end of fuel range before the invention of the Mustang. With dread, they saw triple the number of ME109 fighters rising to meet them. So the Hun was on to them, brought in extra squadrons from elsewhere.
The ME109's charged, mostly head-on, 20 mm cannons spitting. Came much closer than usual, all the B17's could answer with was machin-guns.
Lt Prewitt as navigator was firing one machine-gun from the nose position.
More ME109's and B17's were going down than they'd ever seen before.
Even before arriving at Schweinfurt, the 2 friends knew they weren't coming back, the plane was now a Swiss Cheese from all the cannon shells.
Just before entering the flak, one last ME109 came head on. Lt Prewitt was firing desperately, but sensed the pilot was dead, plane jammed on course. Only hope, blow it away before the collision. Knowing he had seconds left to live, Lt Prewitt offered a simple prayer.
When he came to, he was descending by parachute, the battle nowhere around, over a deserted island. His pistol had disappeared. Started walking along the coast.
Seeing the women from a distance, he wondered if they were friend or foe. Still, what choice did he have? If friendly, he'd be on his way home soon. If enemy, better than starving to death.
Charlie was again absent to battle the paper dragon.
Recognizing from the insignia that Saras was in charge, Lt Prewitt cranked out a salute, which she returned. She demanded ID. By now, she was familiar with USAF history.
Looking at his ID, she knew, navigator, our next math teacher.
She invited him to join them. He was so engrossed in fun conversation he forgot to get around to more mundane matters. After all, they must be friendlies or he'd be in a POW camp by now.
He was invited back to camp, put up in BOQ.
The whole room groaned loudly - Schweinfurt - the ball and roller bearing plant - again. Flak so thick you could walk on it.
After the briefing, Capt Beauregard put his arm on Lt Prewitt's shoulder, "just our luck, happens to us on Mission 25." Mission 25 was end of tour, rotate to a safe job. In fact these 2 were the only ones left alive of the original 10 man crew, lost track of how many replacements they'd gone through. They'd spent 24 hours together in a brutally cold rubber raft. Brought back 4 planes with Class E damage - beyond all repair.
Their fighter escort turned back near Eupen, end of fuel range before the invention of the Mustang. With dread, they saw triple the number of ME109 fighters rising to meet them. So the Hun was on to them, brought in extra squadrons from elsewhere.
The ME109's charged, mostly head-on, 20 mm cannons spitting. Came much closer than usual, all the B17's could answer with was machin-guns.
Lt Prewitt as navigator was firing one machine-gun from the nose position.
More ME109's and B17's were going down than they'd ever seen before.
Even before arriving at Schweinfurt, the 2 friends knew they weren't coming back, the plane was now a Swiss Cheese from all the cannon shells.
Just before entering the flak, one last ME109 came head on. Lt Prewitt was firing desperately, but sensed the pilot was dead, plane jammed on course. Only hope, blow it away before the collision. Knowing he had seconds left to live, Lt Prewitt offered a simple prayer.
When he came to, he was descending by parachute, the battle nowhere around, over a deserted island. His pistol had disappeared. Started walking along the coast.
Seeing the women from a distance, he wondered if they were friend or foe. Still, what choice did he have? If friendly, he'd be on his way home soon. If enemy, better than starving to death.
Charlie was again absent to battle the paper dragon.
Recognizing from the insignia that Saras was in charge, Lt Prewitt cranked out a salute, which she returned. She demanded ID. By now, she was familiar with USAF history.
Looking at his ID, she knew, navigator, our next math teacher.
She invited him to join them. He was so engrossed in fun conversation he forgot to get around to more mundane matters. After all, they must be friendlies or he'd be in a POW camp by now.
He was invited back to camp, put up in BOQ.
posted by afghangirlscifi @ 10:30 AM
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