Bomber Crew: An Engineer's Flight Log


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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