Base Attack
Blake and Edwards had by now spent several hours together in the cockpit, flying cross country training missions to learn to work together. All the doubts Edwards had about the fresh young pilot were gone after their previous mission. Blake had shown to handle himself well in a combat.
That morning all pilots of the squadron were assembled in the briefing room. The wing commander had a special target for them. The Germans were building some stranges emplacements inland and high command wanted them destroyed. High-flying bombers could not hit such a small target area, so the Mosquitos were called upon to do the dirty work.
As both men walked to their aircraft, Edwards had a final piece of advice for Blake: "We better come in high, diving onto the target. As such we will have easier time aiming for the different buildings".
One by one the different Mosquitos took off, heading for the mysterious targets near the French coast.
As usual Blake was in a talking mood en route to the target.: "Edwards, I told you i wanted to fly spitfires didn't I?"
Edwards sighted, he had that story a thousand time:"Yes you have".
"But did I tell you why?"
"No, you haven't." Blake had told during every flight how he applied for Spitfires, because these aircraft were the racing horses of the sky, the saviors of the Brittain during the first dark hours of the war.
"I want to become an ace," replied Blake, "You see, my father never thought that I would mount up to be somebody. If I become an Ace I could finally show him what I am worth"
Edwards glanced at his maps, they were near the coast:"Don't underestimate the Mosquito".
"I don't but its not like we will have a lot of intercept mission in this bird, much more likely we will be dropping bombs for the rest of the war. Crossing the coast"
Once the Mosquito crossed the French coastline, Blake went silent, concentrating now instead on the task at hand.
It did not last long before the Mosquitos arrived above the target. As planned, Blake kept at a high altitude. "Are you ready", he asked Edwards, who strapped himself thight into his seat before confirming. Blake pushed the stick forward and the Mosquitoe went into a mad dive to the target.
Tracer fire arced up from below, the Germans had spotted the bombers. Blake singled out a part of the strange buildings below, when all of a sudden the Mosquito shivered under the impact of anti-aircraft fire. The left engine instruments went wild. Edwards thought that the propeller was hit.
"Should I feather the prop?", he asked.
"Don't bother it's gone." was the dry response from Blake.
Blake slipped the aircraft, pushing the nose towards the target, despite the loss of the engine. "Bombs away". He pulled hard on the stick, hoping that one engine still could pull them out of the dive.
On the ground the Germans cheered, as they watched how the Mosquito lost its engine. They thought the aircraft would crash in the field in front of them. But to their dismay the aircraft pulled up, despite the lost engine. Instead four bombs hit the complex, obliterating buildings and showering the gunners with metal, earth and debris.
With one engine gone, Blake had to work hard to keep the aircraft in the air. Edwards checked the fuel gauges. He did not want to swim back ashore like the last time. But the tanks were safe. Unlike previous flights, Blake remained silent the rest of the flight, struggling to keep the aircraft afloat.
After what seemed the longest flight ever, the Mosquito landed on the first airfield they could spot along the British coast. Blake shut down the remaining engine. Both men sat in silent, contemplating their luck, untill Edwards broke the silence.
"Blake, if you have been flying a Spitfire now, you would have been dead by now..."
End of this chapter
