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HunterICX · 01-09-08, 06:51 PM

3/2/1916
Dear Diary,

I can consider myself lucky to write now, its early in the morning, I just been picked up by a army truck and brought back to my base.

We where flying a Night Operation what happend was we where flying towards our patrol area and halfway we got stabbed in the back by these cowardly bosch, I got a full blaze of bullets rain down on me..damn I was scared to death when that suddently happened...when I recovered a bit I turn my aircraft around to see what fired on me..Fokkers...those bloody Fokkers.

I immediatly chased the one I had in my gunsight and blazed bullets in him, I missed a lot in my rage of revenge. I focused myself on one of them Fokkers and opened fire again, yet this time I scored some decent hits...but not enough to bring the bastard down.

At the sudden I felt a shock in my plane, looked at my instruments and saw the needle of my fuel tank hitting zero...damn! out of fuel, I went down like a brick...made some speed pulled up before hitting the ground, rolled over and was thrown out of my cockpit....

I looked up in the skie to see that my fellow airmen where fighting brave, but I was very glad to see that a other group of british Airmen raced for support...and chased the fokkers away. I was pleased to see one of the fokkers smashing into the ground and went up in flames...looking at my own plane I could consider myself lucky to be standing here.
apart from some cuts here and there I was perfectly fine, might feel a bit soar the next day thought.

Looking up, I saw my fellow airmen turning circles and I waved at them to show them I was o.k.

after a Hour or so a truck arived to pick me up, when I was back on base I saw my fellow airmen Geoffrey and Alan running towards the truck, embraced me and told me that I was a lucky bastard that needed a good drink, I agreed.

-Sgt.William Joseph

01-09-08, 06:51 PM	#6
HunterICX Rear Admiral Join Date: May 2006 Location: Malaga, España Posts: 10,750 Downloads: 8 Uploads: 0	3/2/1916 Dear Diary, I can consider myself lucky to write now, its early in the morning, I just been picked up by a army truck and brought back to my base. We where flying a Night Operation what happend was we where flying towards our patrol area and halfway we got stabbed in the back by these cowardly bosch, I got a full blaze of bullets rain down on me..damn I was scared to death when that suddently happened...when I recovered a bit I turn my aircraft around to see what fired on me..Fokkers...those bloody Fokkers. I immediatly chased the one I had in my gunsight and blazed bullets in him, I missed a lot in my rage of revenge. I focused myself on one of them Fokkers and opened fire again, yet this time I scored some decent hits...but not enough to bring the bastard down. At the sudden I felt a shock in my plane, looked at my instruments and saw the needle of my fuel tank hitting zero...damn! out of fuel, I went down like a brick...made some speed pulled up before hitting the ground, rolled over and was thrown out of my cockpit.... I looked up in the skie to see that my fellow airmen where fighting brave, but I was very glad to see that a other group of british Airmen raced for support...and chased the fokkers away. I was pleased to see one of the fokkers smashing into the ground and went up in flames...looking at my own plane I could consider myself lucky to be standing here. apart from some cuts here and there I was perfectly fine, might feel a bit soar the next day thought. Looking up, I saw my fellow airmen turning circles and I waved at them to show them I was o.k. after a Hour or so a truck arived to pick me up, when I was back on base I saw my fellow airmen Geoffrey and Alan running towards the truck, embraced me and told me that I was a lucky bastard that needed a good drink, I agreed. -Sgt.William Joseph __________________ Last edited by HunterICX; 01-09-08 at 07:01 PM.