The P-51 flew over the landscape, alone like an eagle searching for a prey. Lieutenant Scott Fuller was pissed. His squadron was tasked with protecting a flight of bombers. Not long after they crossed the coast, Focke-wulfs had jumped them.
Like everybody else, Scott had dropped his fuel tanks and engaged the Germans. But in the heat of the battle he had lost sight of his wing leader. Following a Kraut down to the deck separated him even further from the pack. The Focke-Wulf was probably out of ammunition because he made a beeline for the nearest airfield. Scott was smart enough not to follow him over the airfield.
But now he was low and separated from his squadron. With his tanks gone there was no use in trailing the bombers who had lumbered on despite the ferocious air battle around them. As he headed for the coast and home, Scott noticed a railway. If he did not find any worthy opponent in the sky, he still could shoot some trains with supplies for the German war machine.
After fifteen minutes following the railway, he spotted the black smoke of a locomotive.
He gently pushed his Mustang into a dive. Squeezing the trigger, the 6 .50 machineguns flashed as bullets whizzed towards the train.His first rounds felt short and kicked up dirt alongside the track. With small inputs Scott corrected his path.
The bullets tore through the carriages. The machinist tried to increase his speed, but stuck onto the tracks there was no place for him to hide. Whatever was in the carriages in caught fire and now the locomotive was but a flaming torching speeding on the tracks.
The train flashed underneath his wings, reduced to smoldering wreckage. Scott pulled hard on the stick in case some of the carriages contained ammunition. He did not want be caught in the debris of an exploding train.
The wings of his Mustang lit up as his guns fired a steady stream of lead to the train.
A deadly line of bullets, kicked up dirt alongside the track, swirling like a deadly finger towards the train. The first bullets pierced the carriages. Hot lead blew through the boxes in the carriages, igniting their contents.
The boxes contained ammunition for machine guns and rifles. Hand grenades were packed in boxes alongside boxes full of flares. However gründlig the Germans are, someone really made a mess of the loading scheme. And now the .50 bullets were breaking the boxes, heating the ammunition and setting of the grenades. Slowly the carriages were engulfed in flames, which raised the temperature even more cooking the grenades.
Eventually on grenade exploded, followed by another grenade who set off another. Like an unstoppable cascade grenade explode until the flames erupted through the carriages in a violent explosion. Sending shockwaves and thunder even Scott could here as he rolled above the train.
Satisfied with the destruction of two trains, Scott pointed the nose of his Mustang towards the home base. It no longer mattered if he did not shot down a Kraut on this mission. Blowing up the trains would deprive the Germans from ammunition. Not as satisfying as a burning fighter, but at least they would have two trains of ammunition less to fire at the bombers.
The End
