Refused Kill
"They got to be kidding me!", Blake stormed angrly out of the officers barracks, holding a letter. Edwards who had been waiting outside followed him closely.
"They did not accept it?" he asked. Blake turned around, waiving the paper at Edward. "Those eggheads at command refused to accept my kill!" Blake kept waiving with the paper, "first they deny me to fighters and now that I am on a streak they refuse my score!" Blake continued his frantic pace across the airfield.
That morning Blake and Edwards had been sent out to scour the French countryside for potential targets. But the French railways remained eerily calm. Blake came to like such attacks. Trains could not hide and were easily detectable, you just had to follow the railway. You only he had to be cautious. You never knew when you were hitting an ammunition train. Those buggers had the nasty habit of exploding in bright fireballs and could easily knock a Mosquito out of the sky if you did not pay attention.
But today the railways were empty. Even the road were deserted. Was it Hitlers birthday and had everybody a paid holiday? In the end thy decided to head for the nearest enemy airfield. Perhaps they could lure some fighter towards them. Especially Blake was in a good mood. After his first air-to-air kill he had got the taste for more.
Near the airfield they spotted a nice target, another Storch heading for home. The German pilot was unaware of the approaching Mosquito. Blake knew that if he missed the aircraft on the first pass, the German would immediately head for the deck. He had to bank hard to get a fix on the Storch, but one short concentrated burst of fire was enough to disintegrate the aircraft. Blake had sort of pity with the pilots who where so foolish to fly in such a vulnerable aircraft.
But there was even better fruit in the sky that morning. As the pulled away from the falling Storch, Blake spotted a second aircraft. He hardly could believe his luck: a junkers J-52. Slow and cumbersome this transport aircraft was no match for the nimble Mosquito. The two aircraft went head to head. But the Junkers did not carry armement in the nose. A quick burst of machineguns and the middle engine fell off. "She's landing", warned Blake who acted as a second pair of eyes, watched the Junkers as Blake pulled up and turned around for a second shot.
The German crew knew that they could not outrun the faster Mosquito, so they opted to make an emergency landing. But Blake would not let them get away that easy. The Junkers already touched the ground as Blake started his dive towards the target. The Junkers was still bouncing around on the ground, its pilots hastily trying to slow the aircraft. One of its crew already jumped out of the still rolling aircraft, narrowly missing the stabilator.
That single crewman would be the only survivor, because as soon as he jumped out, Blake pulled the trigger. Canon shells and bullets tore through the Junkers sending flames, sparks and dirt everywhere. The still rolling aircraft erupted in a blaze of fire.
With roaring engines Blake and Edwards passed overhead. "That is number three" yelled Blake, performing a victory roll over his helpless target.
Edwards had to run to keep up with Blake, who was heading for the wing commanders office. He tried to stop his pilot and friend: "Blake calm down".
Blake turned around again:"Those idiots reviewed the gun camera footage. They claim the Junkers was on the ground when we shot it, so it counts as ground kill, not as an air kill".
"So what the German is not less dead because of that" replied Edwards, which infuriated Blake even more. "A ground kill does not count for one of my five kills I need to become an ace". Blake continued his angry walk again only to be stopped by Edwards who grabbed his arm.
"Look, I know you got them, You know you got them, who cares what the guys in London say", tried Edward to calm Blake, "besides the war is not over yet and I am sure you will have plenty of time to shoot some more Germans"
Blake looked at Edwards, trying to believe him:"Are you sure".
"Yes I am sure, there are plenty of German aircraft left for you" reassured Edwards him, which seemed to calm him down.
Blake smiled:"Yeah I guess you are right and besides should you not by your pilot a drink on the account that I got you back home safe and sound again?"
Edwards laughed:"Yes on being glad, but forget about that me paying you a drink, you pay me a drink, because who is watching the map when you fly around?"
On their way to the mess, Blake watched a flight of Spitfires overhead. He might not be flying those birds but he swore he would become an ace. Even if it meant giving up his life.
End of this chapter
