Lucky Three
Blake and Edwards sat silently in the cockpit of their Mosquito. Once again they were flying a night raid over the French countryside. The RAF had come up with a new tactic. Themosquito's were vectored to a part of France where German night-fighters assembled. The idea was to attack the night-fighters before they could attack the Lancasters, heading for Berlin.
The only snag was that the Mosquito pilots had to fly low until they reached their patrol area. If they flew too high, the German radar might detect them andnight-fighters could be vectored to their tail. But flying low meant that there were other risks.
"Tracer fire", warned Edwards.
A Flak battery pulled by a train started to fire at the dark shadow.
flying low meant that Blake had to watch out for hills, trees and the occasional ground fire lobbed at him. Luckily for them it was a full moon which helped avoiding these obstacles. Edwards glanced at his map. He was not afraid about the night missions but tonight he and Blake had to return to the airfield where he was shot the last time. Back then he and his pilot, Meadow, had to ditch in the channel. Edwards could escape the wreckage, but Meadows drowned when the Mosquito sank to the bottom.
Edwards had decided not to tell Blake about this. He did not want his new pilot to be afraid of their mission. The sound of thunder made Edwards look up again. More tracer fire arced around their plane.
"We are at the airfield", said Blake.
Edwards looked outside, Blake had steered them directly over the airfield. Every kraut down there must be shooting at them.
A German night-fighter spotted the tracer-fire above his airfield and promptly returned home to investigate.
Blake and Edwards had planned to circle the airfield, looking for the rendez-vous point of the night-fighters. The idea was to sneak among their formation and shoot them down while they were forming up. Most of these night-fighters were old two-engined day-fighters would had reach the end of their service life.
Blake watched with amusement how the German ground gunners fired into the sky. They could not see his Mosquito and fired to the sound of his engines. But sound does not travel fast so all they did was shoot and his last position.
The German night fighter closely followed the trail of tracer fire. He knew the intruder had to be around somewhere near the tracers. Too bad there were no searchlights near the airfield. These could help them pinpoint the intruder.
"That tracer fire will lure night-fighters.", warned Edwards.
The German night-fighter pilot strained his eyes. It was hard to spot the enemy amidst the tracer fire. Suddenly he thought he spotted the enemy. A dark shadow between the tracers flying near the airfield.
"Don't worry, i know what I am doing" replied Blake to Edwards warnings.
The German pilot pulled the trigger, pumping lead into the shadow. His bullets went right through it, he had been hunting a reflection in on the clouds! "Hinter uns" warned his tail gunner.
Blake pulled the trigger, sending bullets and shells towards the unsuspecting night-fighter. He had been trailing the fighter since it started following the ground fire. The night-fighter rolled on its back while pilot andrear-gunner jumped out of the cockpit.
The ground fire stopped. The Germans probably thought their night-fighter had shut down the Intruder. Everywhere German pilots, orbiting around the airfield, switched on their navigation lights. Quickly Blakeswitched on their navigation lights too and headed towards the orbiting lights.
"Geez, just like stealing candy from a baby", whispered Edwards.
Blake slid behind the closest navigation lights. He slowly closed in on it. On his headset, Edwards listened in on the German pilots. They got closer and closer towards their target, a lone Ju-52.
"The pilot asks to keep or distance", translated Edwards the German communications.
"I'll send him my regards", replied Blake and with that he pulled the trigger. Shells ripped through his victim, setting the engine and tanks ablaze. The flames covered the entire length of the transport plane. In the light of the fire, several figuresleaped from the aircraft, the German crew was bailing out.
On the radio, other German pilots began to shout. they did not understand what happened, suddenly one of their own was burning. "They think Flak shot one of their own" translated Edwards.
Blake shut the navigation lights. Like a dark bat, the Mosquito climbed to its next victim, a He-111. Meanwhile the burning Junkers continued to climb, creating havoc among the other planes. The tail gunner of the HE-111 watched the Junkers and failed to notice the dark Mosquito behind them.
The Mosquito bumped up and down as it went through the proppeler-wash of the Heinkel. Flames spit out of the engine of the Mosquito, alerting the German tail-gunner. But it was to late, the shells of the Mosquito tore through the Heinkel. Like deadly shrapnel it spread through the cockpit, killing the entire crew.
Slowly the Heinkel peeled of, pointing its nose to the ground.
Edwards quickly changed the radio channel. Apparently the navigator was still alive aboard the Heinkel. His screams filled the airwaves as the Heinkel crashed into the ground. The other German aircraft had now all got enough warning and switched of their navigation lights.
Blake knew it was time to head home. He did not want to risk crashing into an unseen German aircraft.
Edwards breathed with relieve as the Mosquito crossed the British coastline. Suddenly he realized something. He wanted to warn Blake but he was to concentrated while landing the aircraft. Even when the wheels touched down, there was no time to talk, a damaged Lancaster was behind them trying to land.
Only when they were taxiing could Edwards ask Blake.
"Blake, did you notice"
"Notice what?" Blake was to busy taxing on the darkened airfield.
"The number of aircraft you shot?"
"What about it?" Blake could not follow where the conversation was heading.
Edwards smiled, Blake really had not noticed it: "You shot three aircraft. Together with the two from the previous missions you have shot five aircraft. Congratulations, You are an ace."
Blake slammed hard on the brakes, forcing the Mosquito behind him to swirl around him. Blake ushered the loudest profanity on the radio.
"I am an ace, whoaaa".
Blake kept screaming and yelling on the radio as he continued to taxi the mosquito to its parking spot. At last he had become an ace. And that in a two engined Mosquito!
END OF THIS BOOK
