Grief
"Dieter, the commander expects you in his room"
Dieter hurried to the office where the commander managed the squadron. With a slight knock on the door he announced his presence to the commander.
"come in"
Dieter immediately noticed the serious face of the commander, this was not a pleasant meeting.
"Dieter, I am afraid I have bad news for you." The commander swallowed, trying to figure out how to say the words nobody wanted to hear. "I am afraid your brother is dead".
The world spun underneath Dieters feet. Carl, his brother had been flying Stuka's. He was two years older then Dieter and had always been his idol.
A week earlier.
Jason was playing cards with some other pilots when the alarm bell rang. German bombers were spotted heading for a convoy. All pilots ran to their aircraft. Mechanics helped them to buckle up. Within three minutes the entire squadron was in the sky, racing towards the coastline.
in their cockpit the pilots received the latest information from the radar controllers on the ground. A convoy was arriving in Dover and radar had detected a large swarm of enemy echos heading towards the convoy. Although the Luftwaffe had resorted to night raids, a fat juicy convoy was something they could not pass on.
Jason glanced to his left and right. All fighters were in position. While ground control guided them, Jason made sure that his fighters would have the sun in their back. This would make them invisible for the Luftwaffe pilots.
The ground controller warned Jason that they would be within visual range within minutes. Jason squinted his eyes, looking for the bombers. Suddenly he spotted the large formation of dots below. But he could not believe his eyes. Stuka's, the Germans were attacking the convoy with stuka's. These aircraft had created panic among the British troops at Dunkirk, but by now they were mere lambs racing towards the slaughterhouse. They were too vulnerable against the fast, heavily armed spitfires.
To add insult to injury, for the Germans, there was no escort! This would be one heck of a target-rich environment.
"All fighters, tally ho!"
On Jason's command the Spitfires dove towards their unsuspecting prey.
Jason singled one Stuka out and dove towards it. But he misjudged the slow speed of the dive-bomber and overshot his target. Only equipped with a single rear-firing machine-gun, the Stuka was no match for the fast and agile Spitfires.
The German formation quickly broke up as pilots ran for cover. The only thing the bombers could do was, drop their bombs early and dive towards the sea. As a dive-bomber the Stuka could quickly reach sea-level. Skimming the waves was the only way the Germans could escape the enraging fight.
Jason turned his Spitfire around and had to watch in agony as his target dove towards the safety of the sea. He quickly glanced around for another target. There it was. Some Stuka's ignored the carnage around them and pressed on towards the convoy.
But luck was not on Jason's side. Just as he wanted to fire on a Stuka, another Spitfire cut in front of him, blasting at the Stuka. Jason cursed, pulling hard on the stick to avoid the other Spitfire. Off course that Spitfire shot Jason's target down.
Jason began to fear that he would not bag a single German today. Until he spotted a lone Stuka. The Stuka flew well below the other fighter-bombers, but still high enough to start an attack against a nearby ship. Jason realised this was his moment. If the Stuka started it's dive, there would be no stopping it.
Jason rolled his aircraft upside down, looking down to the German bomber. He then gently pulled on the stick diving inverted towards the bomber. As his speed picked up, he rolled back on his belly, keeping the Stuka within the cross-hairs.
This one would not get away. Jason waited while the Stuka grew larger and larger. He spotted the muzzle flashed from the rear-gunner who had spotted him. But the German pilot was one though guy, he kept going on, ignoring the danger above him.
Jason realized the pilot was preparing his dive-run. It would be now or never! Ignoring the tracer fire from the rear-gunner, Jason focused on the Stuka, gently pulling the trigger. The Spitfire shivered as shells and bullets shot out of the barrels of the guns. The first shells hit the tail of the Stuka, tearing it apart. The line of fire continued and slashed across the port-wing of the Stuka. The fuel tanks in the wings exploded into a fiery tail, before the wing was separated from the fuselage.
The Stuka started to dive towards the sea, but it would be a dive it could never recover from.
Jason scanned the sky around him, but it was empty. The air battle had scattered the Spitfires and Stuka's all over the sky. Jason called up radar control, which confirmed that the Stuka's had been repulsed. The only thing left to do was call back the rest of the squadron.
Calling out to the squadron, ordering them to go home, Jason looked over his wingtip towards the smoke plume that led from the sky into the sea. None of the Stuka crew had bailed out. Their aircraft had crashed nearly hundred yards from their intended target.
Jason slowly descended towards the freighter, buzzing low over it to signal the crew the danger was gone. They could finally enter port with the vital supplies Britain need for its defense and the ultimate recovery of Europe from the Germans.
"I am sorry son"
Dieter sat on a chair in the commanders office. The death of his brother had hit him hard.
"They are gonna pay, Sir"
Dieter stood up, he would take the death of his brother like a man. But by God, he swore that the bastard who had killed his brother would pay with his life.
End of this Chapter
