02.07.2008, 13:36
Having joined in the fun and realizing I need LOTS of practice as a fighter or heavy bomber pilot, I was left with one option- light bomber.
Selecting a JU-87 with Finn Markings and the largest available bombload, I set out to legally "vulche," hoping to use Blitzkrieg tactics (single handedly) and become a detriment to the evil "Red" team.
Blue team at the time was doing alright; we had several fighters over our closest bases, but a large dogfight was going on over the front lines. Blue seemed to be on top.
Guiding my JU-87 into the skies, I realized alone I was a sitting duck. Not many chaps in the TS at the time to ask for help. Thus, with one option left open I turned around and nosed up at an elevation that allowed me to maintain 210kmh. Reaching 1000m, I turned slowly for the front lines, maintaining my degree of climb. The tide seemed to be turning; Red team was downing Blue in frightening repetition and speed.
Slowly I made my way to the front lines, maintaining my rate of climb until I was at 2500 meters. Leveling out just over the lines, I was able to push the Stuka to 250kmh. Tracers were evident about 3 miles to my 9 low, estimated they were ~1000m give or take. I was in the clear- for now.
Now my mission was to find enemy targets. According to the game chat, the enemy carrier was already sinking; no way I was going to waste these bombs on that. Trying to remember the coordinates of Red Bases from the briefing map, I flew along between 2300 and 2700m in elevation, until I caught an enemy closing on my position some ways off about 2000m in elevation. Turning to the right and making my way to 3100meters, I continued to scan; the cloud cover rendered that impossible. Nothing. Hills, trees, and a few towns; If I was a Soviet or a Nazi, perhaps that would have been an aluring target, but alas, I am not- Finnish pilots do not even fly over Civilian targets for fear of causing collateral damage.
The enemy plane flew under me; closer observation showed a A-20. Nothing to worry with, unless it was a forward observer.
For some time I flew, watching the fuel gauges, hovering over enemy territory watching tracers flash back and forth. If I flew down to their level, no way I would last more than a few moments.
There she was! The little bastard! A concrete strip several miles off. Using the topography on the map with the ground, I mentally marked the position for my next run. If I survived, that is. Then the fun began.
Dropping my throttle to 10%, I slooped down wards making for the back side of the airfield. No reason to give recent take off's a target. Making good time at over 300kmh, I dropped down to 1800 meters. I was now in the rear of the airfield, and taking cover in clouds; a Yak had spotted me, and I was attempting to cloud hop to lose him. The last cloud had taken me just over the airfield!
Dive brakes engaged, throttle cut, turn over and go!
The macabre whistle of my brakes kicked in. Two enemy planes sat on the strip, a pair of fighters about to take off. They started moving; I adjusted my aim. One-Two- Three! All bombs released. Brakes retracted, throttle at 110%; now was time to run like hell and watch my work. Missed one fighter; BOOM! Second one was on fire.
What was that?! An IL-10 it appeared? On fire from the blast! That taught him to fly too low
!
And there we have it... a good mission. And of course, that pair of Yaks coming down out of the clouds on me. Goodie.
Frantically zig zagging, rudder jigging, diving and trying to make speed, I typed "Help" and my coordinates. No luck, they were almost withing firing range; I was done for!
I climbed over a hill, hugging it so close one false move- easy for a new pilot like me to do- would be my death warrant. This offset the Yaks for a moment; that was all I needed. Before they were even in range 3 BF-109's came out of nowhere, zipping around and downing both Yaks in moments. I was saved.
My fuel was at 33% of what it started with, so I decided to take my time, get back to base, and make it a successful mission. Turning left over the sea, I re-climbed to 2,000meters. Dogfights were abounding over the base to Blue's front line. My base was further back.
After a few minutes of flying along, I turned in for that last bank before wheels hit home.
It was a good start; a few moments later my wheels touched and I made it home.
Time for the next mission...
![[Image: il2fb2008-07-0123-27-20-56.jpg]](http://i199.photobucket.com/albums/aa21/HortonIII/il2fb2008-07-0123-27-20-56.jpg)
Selecting a JU-87 with Finn Markings and the largest available bombload, I set out to legally "vulche," hoping to use Blitzkrieg tactics (single handedly) and become a detriment to the evil "Red" team.
Blue team at the time was doing alright; we had several fighters over our closest bases, but a large dogfight was going on over the front lines. Blue seemed to be on top.
Guiding my JU-87 into the skies, I realized alone I was a sitting duck. Not many chaps in the TS at the time to ask for help. Thus, with one option left open I turned around and nosed up at an elevation that allowed me to maintain 210kmh. Reaching 1000m, I turned slowly for the front lines, maintaining my degree of climb. The tide seemed to be turning; Red team was downing Blue in frightening repetition and speed.
Slowly I made my way to the front lines, maintaining my rate of climb until I was at 2500 meters. Leveling out just over the lines, I was able to push the Stuka to 250kmh. Tracers were evident about 3 miles to my 9 low, estimated they were ~1000m give or take. I was in the clear- for now.
Now my mission was to find enemy targets. According to the game chat, the enemy carrier was already sinking; no way I was going to waste these bombs on that. Trying to remember the coordinates of Red Bases from the briefing map, I flew along between 2300 and 2700m in elevation, until I caught an enemy closing on my position some ways off about 2000m in elevation. Turning to the right and making my way to 3100meters, I continued to scan; the cloud cover rendered that impossible. Nothing. Hills, trees, and a few towns; If I was a Soviet or a Nazi, perhaps that would have been an aluring target, but alas, I am not- Finnish pilots do not even fly over Civilian targets for fear of causing collateral damage.
The enemy plane flew under me; closer observation showed a A-20. Nothing to worry with, unless it was a forward observer.
For some time I flew, watching the fuel gauges, hovering over enemy territory watching tracers flash back and forth. If I flew down to their level, no way I would last more than a few moments.
There she was! The little bastard! A concrete strip several miles off. Using the topography on the map with the ground, I mentally marked the position for my next run. If I survived, that is. Then the fun began.
Dropping my throttle to 10%, I slooped down wards making for the back side of the airfield. No reason to give recent take off's a target. Making good time at over 300kmh, I dropped down to 1800 meters. I was now in the rear of the airfield, and taking cover in clouds; a Yak had spotted me, and I was attempting to cloud hop to lose him. The last cloud had taken me just over the airfield!
Dive brakes engaged, throttle cut, turn over and go!
The macabre whistle of my brakes kicked in. Two enemy planes sat on the strip, a pair of fighters about to take off. They started moving; I adjusted my aim. One-Two- Three! All bombs released. Brakes retracted, throttle at 110%; now was time to run like hell and watch my work. Missed one fighter; BOOM! Second one was on fire.
What was that?! An IL-10 it appeared? On fire from the blast! That taught him to fly too low
! And there we have it... a good mission. And of course, that pair of Yaks coming down out of the clouds on me. Goodie.
Frantically zig zagging, rudder jigging, diving and trying to make speed, I typed "Help" and my coordinates. No luck, they were almost withing firing range; I was done for!
I climbed over a hill, hugging it so close one false move- easy for a new pilot like me to do- would be my death warrant. This offset the Yaks for a moment; that was all I needed. Before they were even in range 3 BF-109's came out of nowhere, zipping around and downing both Yaks in moments. I was saved.
My fuel was at 33% of what it started with, so I decided to take my time, get back to base, and make it a successful mission. Turning left over the sea, I re-climbed to 2,000meters. Dogfights were abounding over the base to Blue's front line. My base was further back.
After a few minutes of flying along, I turned in for that last bank before wheels hit home.
It was a good start; a few moments later my wheels touched and I made it home.
Time for the next mission...