Bomber Crew:
Dear Diary,
It's been a long time since I believed
recording my thoughts a worthy endeavor. But after my first day at
RAF Woodbridge, I considered the limited, inevitable possibilities,
and thought how someone, including myself, might want a record of
what I witness in case I can't recall it later.
Day 7:
I've spent the last week meeting my
fellow crew. There's seven of us aboard The Dumpy Dustbin: I'm the
engineer. Because I'm expected to run about the plane fixing any
mechanical failures (and this plane is a flying wreck), I've been
provided the lightest armor, so I am not encumbered. Tomorrow we are
on call for a possible mission. Our first! Better turn in.
Day 8:
In the future, I'm going to record only
missions, and not days. Today there were a number of serious
missions, but for our first, we were relegated to rescuing some bloke
who went down in the Channel. When I say rescue, we didn't pick him
up, but our bombardier, Sam, dropped supplies so he could return to
shore.
2nd Mission:
Today we learned even a simple mission
can go awry. All we had to do was lob a few bombs at German ships
patrolling the Channel and return home. But somehow, our navigator
Lewis got lost! We spent much too long circling trying to travel
north. Checking the fuel, I began to worry, but we made it home
safely.
4th Mission:
I've skipped our third flight, but I've
realized this war isn't going to conclude anytime soon, and it's
unnecessary to record those events which are of no relevance to
history, and offer no entertainment to future readers. Today though,
while bombing a motor factory in Belgium, we encountered German Ace
Felix Feder. After successfully destroying our target we fled with
our enemy tailing. He only gave up the chase after we entered
British airspace. I wonder if we'll see him again?
6th Mission:
Today was our first Critical Mission,
and our first bite of bitterness. We were supposed to bomb the
German U-boat base at Saint Nazaire. We did bomb the base, but our
escape didn't go as planned. It was raining heavily as we took off
from the airbase north of London. Darkness shrouded us from sight.
The flight was relatively calm until just before the target. Radar
picked us up and fighters swarmed about us. Lewis directed us to the
targets, Alastair flew steadily, and Sam hit all three with
precision. Before I knew it we were rising in an attempt to shake
off any pursuit, but it was to no avail. As Alastair dove and
dodged, as Trevor called out the advancing Junkers, and as Ellis and
Duncan bravely fired at their approaching doom, it happened. We dove
to extinguish a fire on our last remaining engine. We were low,
close to the water. The tail of our plane was blown off over the
channel. We might have made it, but Alastair fell from his seat,
pierced by one of the hornets banging against the hull. We had only
seconds, not enough time to grab a parachute, before the whole thing
crashed into the sea.
By luck I found myself thrown from the
aircraft. I managed to pull Trevor from the debris, but the wreckage
sank swiftly. Most of the crew probably died on impact. I won't say
anything more about the rescue. At the moment I can't bear to
consider it. My friends, those who I'd come to know and trust are
asleep beneath the waves. But I must carry on.
7th – 13th:
There is little to recount about these
missions. A new plane, the Jaloping Jockeys. A new crew. Trevor
and I, we are the veterans and the new members look up to us. They
still feel they are invincible, but at the same time they look to us
to keep them safe. No one feels the inevitable doom of flying a
bomber until someone is on the ground bleeding, as bullets pass
through the fuselage like hail through tissue paper.
For these new missions, our new plane
was familiar yet more heavily armored. The new crew trusted in that.
Trevor and I did not.
Also during these six missions we saw
our nemesis Felix Feder twice, bringing the total count up to three.
Then, the 14th Mission:
Operation Hydra, in Denmark.
We bombed a series of V1 rocket sites.
I think it was our farthest flight by this point in my career. There
was no resistance to our escape.
15th Mission:
Today we were supposed to test a new
bomb, a simple test run they said. But the whole thing mutated into
a massive fire fight. We lost three of our four engines, and were
low on fuel. I did my best to keep the last engine working, while
monitoring the remaining fuel. Finally, we returned to the airfield,
our plane looking like Swiss cheese. A last, horrible surprise
awaited us. When Jasper brought us in for the landing, the landing
gear collapsed, the plane fell apart at the seams. I was sitting in
my seat, and as the plane opened up like a flower to the sky, I
laughed. It wasn't until a moment later when we heard the dreadful
cry. A part of the roof had fallen on Giles. His yell was quickly
silenced. There was nothing the doctors could do for him.
16th
Mission:
Though this is a record of what
occurred, I can't help looking at the green recruits with sadness.
Today we had a secret mission to strike a factory in Dusseldorf. Our
new plane, the Daisy Cutter, has better engines, and superior guns,
but the worst internal systems, so I wasn't surprised when both the
Oxygen and Electric systems failed simultaneously. Fortunately, we
were flying over London, so this was of no consequence. The mission
was a success.
17th Mission: (first very
high risk)
Today we bombed a factory. That part I
remember. I don't remember where it was, or what it built. I
remember other facts. We lost our left outward engine before
beginning our bombing run. Jasper momentarily called off the
mission, but changed his mind because we were so close to the target.
It was an easy mission. But during our escape, Rupert somehow got
turned around. We traveled for a long time, probably in the wrong
direction. At last when we were heading the right way, it happened.
It was bright and sunny, so we shouldn't have been surprised, but we
were when Felix Feder attacked. Jasper fell from his seat, and I
grabbed the controls swiftly before the plane could crash. Then Leo
took over, and I tended to Jasper. while flak exploded around us. In
the end, we made it alright.
18th – 20th:
As I said, I don't write anything if
nothing happens. Sure we saw Felix Feder for the 5th
time. But that was it.
21st Mission:
Sometimes I can't write about an event.
But those are the ones I have to record. Sometimes one forgets the
details. But others it's easy to remember, and I can't tell you why
one is one way, and the other, the other. We were using that new
bomb we'd test before. Hydro dam. It was the best defended target
we've ever encountered. It all happened so fast. We blew up the
dam. But before we'd traveled a mile, Jasper was screaming for
everyone to bail out as the tail blew off. I saw people jumping out.
I helped Trevor to the door myself. And I followed after him.
Behind me I saw the plane falling. I landed and hid myself in the
woods. I tried to find my crew, but we were scattered. I managed to
get home, but I never saw any of them ever again. Now I am the
single remaining member from my initial crew.
22nd – 25th:
These deaths weigh on my conscience,
even though I know I am innocent of any wrongdoing. Surviving embeds
guilt into the subject, even if they have served to their full
capacity. And we saw Felix again. He has become both my nemesis,
but also a dear friend. It almost feels as if we fly together. Who
will fall first?
26th Mission:
I don't even know
my crew. They look at me as worshipers to a god. But I am a curse
being. Doomed eventually. Today we bombed a fuel depot. The
hydraulics failed, but I fixed them at the last moment. On the
return, I nearly had to take over the controls from the pilot,
because we were so low on fuel. I forced him to make an emergency
landing on British soil. No one died, and I laughed.
27th
Mission:
Another secret
mission. Bomb the Stuttgart Aircraft Factory. We destroyed the
target, but in our retreat, five of my crew were struck down. Only
myself and the pilot were able to bail from the plane in enemy
territory. But like the last time, I couldn't find him after
landing. I was about to start my march to the sea, in the hopes of
being rescued, but something stirred within me. I found the smoking
wreckage of our plane. Beside it were two of my crew, and to my
surprise they were wounded but breathing. I scavenged some first aid
supplies from the plane and patched them up. You won't believe my
tale about how I half dragged, half carried them to the shore, or how
we were eventually rescued, so I won't relate it.
28th:
Blah...
….
Dear
Mrs. Taylor,
We
are sorry to inform you, that Flight
Lieutenant Ronald Taylor died on his 29th
mission. The surviving crew said that he died attempting to repair
one of the two remaining engines but was thrown thrown from the plane
as the pilot dove to put out an onboard fire. They crashed straight
into the Channel as all the engines failed, but two crew lived to
commend his bravery.
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