Flew CLOD online last night...

[d0o0m]

A report from ATAG:

It was 5:00am as i climbed into the pit of my BF109E4. The French horizon was cracking with sunlight as a ragtag collection of 109s stirred at Pihen Airdrome. Only 10 miles southwest of Calais, our intent was to lift and head over on a freijagd to England and scout for some spitfires to satiate our morning hunger.


2011-10-20_00001 by dooomdooom, on Flickr

I decided to lift before the Ju88s to get an early start in my hunt for birds in the Dover area. The skies were known to be a tad unbalanced this morning with a few more krauts than limeys expected in the sky... my early departure would ensure some uninterupted dancing.

I climbed to Angels 4 and began my trip to England - it was nothing short than beautiful watching the shadows dance across the french terrain. Climbing west I could see dover clearly in the morning sun. Saddling up in my perch I strained to pick up any movement below. I focused on a patch of land and waited patiently for my peripheral vision to fire off a few neurons alerting me to my lunch.


2011-10-20_00002 by dooomdooom, on Flickr


2011-10-20_00003 by dooomdooom, on Flickr

The radio crackled to life and a friendly 109 called out in desperation... he was in a low level fight against a tenacious Spitfire near Folkstone. I swung my nose South along the cliffs and dove hoping to silouette the pair against the dawn sky and thus have an easier time finding them.

I was quickly rewarded with a clear sight to their fight.


2011-10-20_00005 by dooomdooom, on Flickr

A delicate dance ensued as our 109s desperately tried to maneuver against a Spitfire clearly operating within his performance envelope. The fight dragged on for a few minutes until i landed a fatal blow to the Spitfires starboard wing. Watching his crate shudder i saw his Aileron drift away as he turned for Folkstone airfield. Not willing to risk a pass through the Bofors 24mm ack ack protecting his egress, my wingman and I could only watch in mild satisfaction as his attempt to rtb was rewarded with a plume of smoke ash and fire...


2011-10-20_00007 by dooomdooom, on Flickr

Tired and low on fuel and ammunition I knew it was time to leave. The Spitfires demise and the ack ack puffs around Folkstone were sure to have alerted our presence to his friends. Turning East, I began a low egress across the channel.

Whack... thwack!!

Blood collected in the wells of my eyes as i strained to look over my right shoulder to see what hit me... was it a Bofors? Or worse.... was it a Spitfire?


2011-10-20_00008 by dooomdooom, on Flickr

My heart sank as i realised I had a vengeful foe close on my wounded tail. With blood in my eyes I struggled to make his passing shots as difficult as i could for him. yaw left - nose down, pull up , down, yaw right....

Suddenly the tracers stopped and the terrifying sound of hammers on my thin crate ceased... did he run out of fuel? did he run ot of ammo? Was I saved by a friendly I did not see? The fog of war was heavy but i didn't care... France was in sight.


2011-10-20_00009 by dooomdooom, on Flickr

My cockpit was in tatters as I touched down on a short grass field near Wissant. There were no cheers, there was no applause ... only the angry faces of locals whom wished my luck was not so apparant.

It must have been so lonely for those german pilots... you almost die on the good days and you're surrounded by hate on the ground when and if you make it home...

Oh - yeah.... i agree the game is indeed getting better.