Me and my wingman were cruising along the British coast, free-roaming to search and destroy British fighters. We did not find many fighters but we did bump into a lot of anti aircraft fire. Unfortunately my wingman was not lucky. A shell hit his engine, severing fuel line. His engine immediately froze and now he is forced to ditch his fighter.
A Ju-52 ambulance plane already replied to our call for help but it will take some time before they can reach us.
I fly alongside my wingman so that he knows I will be watching his back while he tries to ditch the aircraft. Hopefully those pesky British ground gunners have not warned any RAF fighters.
But my hopes were too high. A Hurricane speeds towards our crippled formation. My wingman can't evade the attacker so I will have to get rid of him.
I immediately turn towards the Hurricane, who at first seems to focus on my crippled wingman.
But the British pilot realizes that from the two of us in the formation, I am the most dangerous one and he shifts his attention to me.
By now I am turning towards him, his aircraft creeping closer and closer into my cross hairs.
But the Hurricane has a tighter turn circle and my first shots fall way behind it.
Like in a deadly ballet we twist around in the sky. I try to figure out a way to get behind the Hurricane and deny him his tight turning circle.
Then the British pilot makes a mistake. After some many circles, he tries to outrun me by climbing straight up. For the first time I get an easy shot on him. I must not miss it or my wingman will be toast.
With blazing guns I stick onto the Hurricane. My bullets and shells pepper his wings.
Suddenly the left wing of the Hurricane separates, sending the aircraft into a violent spin.
The canopy is thrown off as the pilot tries to escape from his crashing bird.
It must be hard to jump out of a spiraling aircraft, but somehow the pilot manages to crawl out of the cockpit and jumping overboard. The tail misses him by an inch.
The only aircraft the British pilot will fly for now is his parachute.
Meanwhile my wingman is making his final preparations to hit the water.
He has lowered his his flaps to get the most lift while trying to settle down on the water.
The propeller bends as it hits the water. Even at these slow ditching speeds, water is a tough as concrete.
With a huge splash the aircraft noses down into the channel waters.
The Ju-52 arrives on the scene. I hope my wingman got out of his plane and can stay afloat until the junkers lands.
Its now time to bug out for me too. These hops over the channel consume a lot of fuel, something which we don't seem to carry enough of. I leave the Junkers behind and head for my home base.
The end