Chapter 4

Revenge

The Spitfire flew low over the Channel, waves passed in a blur underneath its wings. On board Jason checked his compass. The squadron had received a new aircraft as replacement for damaged and lost fighters and Jason wanted to check the new aircraft himself.

He felt in the mood for a little flight. The French coast was so close, why should he not dash over and support the occupied French people. It was off course unauthorized but these days pilots were cut some slack. After all didn't they stop the German Army from invading Britain?

Jason made a final check of his fuel status. Plenty to fly alongside the French coast.


Further down the coast two lone FW-190's patrolled the sky. Dieter scanned the instruments before scanning the sky again. This was his second flight in the FW-190. The FW-190 was not as nimble as his old Me-109 but it was sturdier and carried more and heavier weapons.

Dieter's thoughts went back to his brother, who died above this frigid waters in his Stuka. Dieter had sworn to avenge his death, but since his transfer to the FW-190 he had not scored a single kill. The other pilots of his squadron avoided him, they had seen the fire in his eyes and feared that their comrade might do some stupid things in the air. Only Dieter's trusted friend Hans kept his faith in him. Hans flew the second FW-190 just in front of Dieter.

"Nice fighters, aren't they, Dieter?"

"Yes, but a bit sluggish at these low altitudes"


Jason broke to the right and kept the French coast on his starboard wing. Tracer fire came from the coastline as German soldiers tried to fire at the British fighter which dared to daunt them.

"Dieter, tracer fire in the distance"

"I see it, let's check it out"

The two German pilots pushed the throttle forward, speeding towards the tracer fire, Dieter warned the base.

"Mutter Gans, this is Wolfpack, investigating tracer fire to our west"

"Shoot the bastard down", yelled an angry lieutenant to his AAA gunners as they fire at the Spitfire. The lieutenant picked up thefield phone, hoping that the resistance had not cut the line again. He got a connection.

"This is flak station 21, we have a lone Spitfire following the coast, please send interceptors"

The reply from the central anti aircraft control center was swift: "Roger, we already have fighters on their way"


In his cockpit, Jason was unaware of the German efforts. He laughed as the flak-fire missed him by a mile. At this low altitude and with such a deflection there was no way on earth they could hit him.

"Hans, I want this bastard"

The two FW-190's were closing in on the lone enemy fighter.

"OK, Dieter, you take the lead"

Both pilots could spot the Spitfire, down at the deck. The AAA-gunners also spotted the two FW-190's trailing the Spitfire. The gunners seized their fire, afraid of hitting their comrades in the fighters.

Jason noticed how the AAA-gunners stopped firing, they finally realized that he was invulnerable to their fire. Suddenly he spotted tracer fire again, but this fire came from behind him! Fighters! Jason pulled hard on the stick, looping his fighter.


Dieter's first shot went by the Spitfire, but as it pulled into a loop, he corrected his fire. The two 20 mm cannons wrecked the Spitfire, but amazingly it kept flying.

Because the Spitfire was flying much slower then the FW-190's it could loop shorter then them. Dieter continued his climb, using the excess speed to gain altitude. Hans was still on his wing.

"Nice shot, Dieter"

But the Spitfire was escaping, trailing black smoke behind its tail.

Jason knew he was in deep trouble. The engine made weird noise and had trouble to keep a stead rhythm. He glanced over his shoulder, the FW-190's had climbed above him. He knew they had the initiative. With his banged up aircraft he would be no match for them. From their altitude the Germans could dive down on him at their discretion.

His only salvation was staying low, extreme low. By skimming the waves he would be so low that the Germans would have to risk crashing into the sea.

"Dieter, let him go"

"No, Hans will follow this bastard, he has to pop-up once"

Jason looked above him, the FW-190's were still trailing him, like wolfs smelling a dying prey. If he could only make it to the British coast. He tried to call for help, but apparently the first shots had killed his radio.


Jason glanced at his map, there was an emergency airfield near the coast. Skimming the waves, he glanced now and then for his pursuers.

Above the wounded Spitfire, Dieter and Hans waived back and forth. With its damaged engine the Spitfire was flying so slow they had to cut the throttle, risk stalling their fighter. The upside was that they would now have much more fuel to chase the Spitfire.

Jason sighted with relief as he spotted the cliffs of the English coast. Afraid to climb to high, he searched for an opening in the cliffs. He saw the flashes of guns installed at the coast.

On the ground British gunners had spotted the smoke-trailing Spitfire and its two German assailants. The gunners fired at the Germans, who stayed further away.

"I am going after him!"

"Dieter, don't! You get killed by the AA-fire!".

But Dieter ignored the warning and dove through the tracer fire behind the Spitfire which crossed the coastline.


Jason eased his aircraft over the British coastline. He could already spot the anti-aircraft balloons around the emergency airfield. Now would come the tricky part, he had to climb to align for the runway. With his battered engine, it would be risky, he could stall the aircraft.

He gently pulled back on the stick, climbing higher, while closely watching his rpm. He glanced through the canopy, there was the airfield, he rolled over, ready to align with the runway.

Suddenly two large explosions shuddered his aircraft. Jason was thrown to the right. He was too low to jump. He jammed the stick to the right, he had to revert the spin. But there was no left wing anymore. the spin became violent, pinning Jason in his seat. The ground closed in fast. Jason closed his eyes.


Dieter had screamed through the AA-fire as he spotted the Spitfire climbing. There was the airfield, but Dieter would not let his prey escape. He only had one chance. He pulled the trigger as the Spitfire filled hisgun-sight.

Shells from his 20 mm canons ripped the Spitfires left wing apart, sending it in a deadly spiral. As fast as the Spitfire had appeared, it disappeared from his sight. Gunners on the ground started firing at Dieter, who had no time to see the result of his work. He had to get out of here.

He waived back and forth to offset the ground gunners, as he raced back towards the coastline. Crossing the coastline he formed up with Hans again.

"Did you got him?"

Dieter turned to the right to have a better look, behind the coastline he could spot the black smoke, marking the place where the Spitfire had hit the ground. Dieter made a victory roll.

"Nice job, Dieter, but lets get back, I am running low on fuel".

Both fighters headed back towards France. In his cockpit, Dieter felt like he had avenged his brother.

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THE END
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