Tunis is a four part AAR, detailing the events surrounding a 4 ship formation of Me-109's
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Libya 1942, a flight of 4 Me-109's prepares for a patrol over desert. The allies have landed in North-Africa, creating a second front in support for Stalin. Our job is to intercept any allied fighter and shoot it down.
One by one we take off. After forming up, we follow the coastline in search of enemy fighters.
Overhead fly Stuka's. These dive-bombers had it hard above England, but here above the open desert they proof to be excellent tank hunters.
We arrive over the enemy controlled harbor. Flak explodes around us, but seems to be way off mark.
Disaster, the wing-leader of the red element is hit by shrapnel. A faint line of smoke escapes from his engine, but the pilot still believes he can continue the patrol.
We continue the patrol, but I am worried about the red wing-leader. With his damaged engine he won't be able to keep up with us. I decide to shorten the patrol to get him home safely.
Suddenly small specks appear on the horizon, rapidly closing in on us. American P-40's!
Two formations pass between each other, guns blazing in a vain attempt to score the first kill of the fight. I order red wing-leader to return to base. With his damaged engine he won't stand a change against the P-40's.
One of the P-40's dives towards the deck. Immediately I go after him.
A P-40 is not a British Spitfire. I have no trouble to keep sticking on its tail, peppering it with bullets and shells.
As the fight goes up and down in the sky, I see a huge explosion in the distance. I sure hope it ain't one of us.
The shells of my canons rip through the tail of the P-40, breaking it apart.
The American pilot tries to bail out as the tailless aircraft plummets to the ground.
But I won't enjoy my victory for long. Without warning the world turns black, when bullets rip through my body. Slowly my Me-109 rolls over, with my lifeless body trapped in its cockpit.
The Me-109 dives nose-first towards the ground, exploding as it hits the ground with tremendous speed.
End of this Chapter
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This morning I take off with my wing-leader and a second element to patrol the Libyan desert. The allies have landed on the North African coast and we have to make sure that air superiority remains in German hands.
But the patrol turns almost immediately badly when the other elements wing-leader is hit by anti aircraft fire. Trailing smoke its pilot tries to keep up with the rest of us.
To make matters worse, we stumble upon a flight of American P-40's.
My wing-leader engages them, leaving me on his trail, trying to protect his back.
The Americans are good pilots, quickly one of them tries to jump on my wing-leader's tail.
But I am vigilant and won't let my wing-leader down.
Despite my warnings, my wing-leader keeps sticking on the tail of his target, while the second P-40 tries to latch onto my wing-leader.
At last I get into a firing position. Pulling the trigger, shells and bullets speed towards the P-40.
Trailing smoke, the wounded P-40 leaves the combat zone.
An explosion to my right catches my eye. I hope it ain't one of us.
But all that twisting and turning, made me slip out of formation with my wing-leader. We twist around each other in a desperate attempt to form sort of formation again.
Suddenly a new fighter passes in front of me. Spitfires! In the heat of combat no one of use noticed these reinforcements.
Before I can react, the Spitfire slides behind my wing-leader firing a short burst.
I try to get behind the Spitfire, but my wing-leader is already trailing smoke. Slowly his aircraft rolls over towards the ground.
I scream to my wing-leader over the radio to bail out. But nobody jumps out his aircraft. With a sick feeling in my stomach I watch his aircraft crash into the desert.
But I have no time to mourn my comrade in arms. Tracer fire sweeps around me. The other Spitfires and remaining P-40's are hot on my tail.
I try my best at evading them. I even dive down to the deck in a vain attempt to blend in with the ground.
Bullets and shells wreak havoc on my plane. I am struggling to maintain altitude.
But the damage is to big. When a P-40 fires a salvo at me I try to duck my plane. But the proppeler touches the ground. The blades spin violently away as the rest of the aircraft crashes with breakneck speed into the ground. My death was violent but quickly.End of this chapter
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This morning I will lead the second element of a wing of 4 Me-109's.. We are tasked to patrol the desert. As part of our flight plan we will overfly enemy ships in the hope of luring some fighters into combat.
The first part of the mission is quite calm. We form up and head for the enemy ships.
But as we appears above the ships little but lethal flak-clouds appear amidst our formation.
Suddenly I hear a loud bang, followed by a deafening noise in the engine.
My wingman immediately reports that I am trailing smoke. I can also feel my engine rattling.
The flight leader immediately decides to abandon the mission and fly home. I struggle to keep up with the rest of the flight with my damaged engine.
Suddenly we spot small dots on the horizon, approaching fast. American P-40's.
I am defenseless with a damaged engine, but the flight leader immediately turns towards the P-40's to lure them away. My wingman, realizing my dire situation, orders me to head for base right away, while he will cover my back. I obey him reluctantly.
Hurrying back to base I hear on the radio how the fight evolves. But as I fly further away, I loose contact with the rest of the flight
My own wounded fighter calls for my attentions. I am loosing rpm's quickly. Without much power I slowly start loosing altitude.
I can line up with the runway, but I am too low and slow to make it. I prepare to crashland.
Without much time left to lower the gear I decide to go for a belly landing.
The propeller hits the ground first, bending as it is smashed hard into the ground. But I manage to keep the plane stable as it settles on its belly and skids over the rocky desert surface.
I quickly jump out of the cockpit and run away from the wreck, fear that it the remaining fuel ignites. As I take cover in a nearby ditch, waiting for my rescuers coming from the base, I wonder what happened to my flight.If you wonder what happened to the fourth and last plane, read the next and final episode.
End of this chapter
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Tunis is a four part AAR, detailing the events surrounding a 4 ship formation of Me-109's
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This morning i will fly part of a four ship formation on patrol above the Libyan dessert and coastline. As the most junior pilot I am assigned to fly as wingman for the second element.
We soon form up and start following the coastline. It's my job to protect my wing-leader, if we encounter enemy fighters. That 's the whole purpose of this mission, lure the enemy out for a fight.
As we turn inland, enemy flak starts firing at us. The small black puffs of smoke seem harmless, but each one of them hides a cloud of hot metal able to rip through flesh and tear apart fuel lines and cables.
Suddenly there is a loud bang as one of those puffs of smoke blossoms up close to our formation. I quickly scan my instruments but nothing alarming is showing up. Until I look back outside. My wing-leader is trailing a thin line of smoke.
Immediately the wing-leader of the other element, who leads this formation, decides to abort our patrol. The frontline is no place to stay when one of the aircraft has engine troubles.
Suddenly the other flight warns us of enemy fighters. Four American P-40's are approaching us fast. My wing-leader is a sitting duck with his banged up engine, so I order him to head for home while I and the other flight will try to fend off the P-40's.
Reluctantly my wing-leader obeys. A P-40 has already single him out so I dive immediately towards his pursuer.
The American pilot quickly seizes his pursuit as my tracers whiz him around the ears. Soon the sky is filled with roar of engines and the bristling of gunfire as we start an uneven match against the P-40's.
Without someone to watch my back, I don't spot the dark silhouette diving from out of the sun. British Spitfires have come to the aid of the P-40's. Three Me-109 against eight enemy fighters, the odds are heavily stacked against us.
I try to outrun the Spitfire on my tail by diving straight for the ground.
But the British pilot is good and stays on my tail, regardless of the evasive maneouvers I perform.
Suddenly I hear the distinct sound of shells hitting my aircraft. The Spitfire is firing with everything he's got. A roar of flames explodes behind my cockpit and the stick goes dead.
I am damn close to the ground and can feel the heat of the flames burning behind me. Its time to bail out. I quickly push the canopy open, which is pulled away in a blast of air. Releasing my belt, I prepare to jump. A final deep breath and I jump clear of the aircraft.
As soon as I clear the aircraft I pull the ripcord. With a hard bang the parachute opens above me.
The last thing I remember is a loud deafening noise as the wreckage of my aircraft exploded next to me. The blast killed me instantly and mercifully enough quick enough for me to feel any pain.
Amidst the burning debris, my lifeless body floated to the ground.
The other flight tried to keep up the fight, but in the end were overwhelmed by the enemy fighters who had the larger numbers.
My body was never found, laying somewhere in the desert, waiting to be devoured by some coyotes.
End of this chapter and this story
