This story was derived from the events played out in a game of Bomb Run.
Our story with wbridgeusmc’s Flying Dutchmen continues, having just lost their pilot and picking up a replacement just in time for the next mission.
Mission Four: Cologne Railyard
Target Weather: Good
Airfield Weather: Good
Resistance: Heavy (No cards removed)
AAR: (After Action Report)
Excellent Take-Off
Landing Weather was good, good landing
Target Hit ⅔
The Replacement
2nd Lieutenant George Carrol knocked on the hut door and entered cautiously. The first to see him was 1st LT. Kirk and for a moment he paused. Kirk looked the baby faced man up and down. He wore neatly pressed khakis, his uniform jacket was starched and crisp and his officer’s cap looked like he had just purchased it.
This wasn’t the Enlisted Hut, they were officers and despite what he felt internally he needed to do the right thing. Kirk stood and pointed to the newly vacated rack, “Over here, Lieutenant. The Major said you would be joining us today. Welcome.”
Carrol unloaded his burden onto the rack and breathed a sigh of relief. He was expecting some tension. In fact when he came in with the other replacements it seemed the newly minted Sergeants were getting ignored straight away. Honestly, the worst was that silent shunning. They were all new, they needed to earn their place here.
Kirk laid back down on his rack and he closed his eyes against the strange sorrow he felt for his friend. The letter he had sent to Palmer’s wife was written yesterday. He slipped the wedding ring into the envelope along with his wallet and photos of all the guys. There was a really nice one with Palmer smiling in his uniform standing besides the crew and the bomber. She would be getting the letter any day now.
He swallowed hard, how do you properly mourn when you don't have the time to do so?
"Did the Major give you the spiel?" Lt. Sutton, the Navigator, asked as he extracted his flight coveralls from the makeshift locker.
"He told us we're restricted to base, no going out to town without permission from the higher ups."
Kirk sat up, "Restricted to base? Everyone?"
Carrol nodded, "Yes, sir."
Kirk, Sutton and the Bombardier 2nd Lt. Reynolds traded glances and Kirk sighed, "We're going up tomorrow."
Carrol swallowed hard and he felt his hands become clammy. That soon?
Kirk quickly put his flight suit on and he told Carrol to change out of his dress uniform, "We're going to introduce you to the guys. They need to get to know you fast."
The Enlisted Hut
Kirk stood aside for 2nd Lt. Carrol and the men nodded politely, just as you would for an officer you passed by at chow or in the offices.
"Lt. Carrol is going to be our copilot, I got bumped up to Pilot. We're probably going up tomorrow so standby for orders."
The men groaned comically and Kirk smiled, "I know, I know. But, we need this opportunity to introduce ourselves to Lt. Carrol."
The men went around one at a time, the SNCO's first, then the NCO's. The backgrounds were a variety of professions and regions around the country. A lot were from Pennsylvania, which is why they named the bomber, "The Flying Dutchmen" so long ago, it felt.
They were constantly being asked about the Pennsylvania Dutch and the crew liked the play on words that came to then 2nd Lt. Palmer. They weren't the Flying Dutchman, they were the Flying Dutchmen, with the painting of a ghost ship designed especially for them.
When the Officers fell out, the SNCOs and NCOs spoke for a spell, Would he measure up? Carrol looked 12. They all looked 12 to MSG Duke. They laughed. They discussed. Kirk would take Carrol under his wing. He was a good Officer. Maybe he would make Carrol a good one too. He seemed like an OK guy.
They didn't talk much about the next mission. How do you tell someone new like Lt. Carrol their survival was less based on skill and more based on luck? Regardless, the entire crew got together for chow later that day and they filled the new Lt's ears with advice and comical stories about their time together training in the states. By God, he would be a member of their crew, like Captain Palmer would have wanted.
The Mission
England: Kirk felt the aircraft begin rumbling down the runway, the controls were alive in his hands as it accelerated and the terrain blurred out of the corner of his eyes. He let Carrol take charge and he observed how well the Lieutenant taxied and commanded the crew. So far, he was impressed with what he saw. (CoPilot Z+)
English Channel: After observing how well the CoPilot got the aircraft into formation, he smiled and Kirk took over. “Nice job, very nice. I got the controls, Lieutenant. Time to get to work.” (Pilot Z+)
Zone One: Round One- “FW190, 12 high!!” Reynolds hollered out and began firing the Chin Turret, missing the high speed target as it flew by.
The FW190 Spun wildly, dodging the tracer fire and sprayed his own weapon, the Port Waist gunner felt the hot lead narrowly miss him. He flinched and cursed the bandit as it pulled hard G’s back towards the nose.
“Coming back towards 12 o’clock!”
The Navigator caught the 190 with the cheek turret, seeing pieces fall from the landing gear, “Got the bastard! Good luck landing that tub, Fritz!”
Round Two- The 190 pulled back towards the 3 o’clock, fortunately a few little friends appeared, sending the 190 into a tight turn away from the bomber. They breathed a sigh of relief, but too soon. The 190 managed to spray across the Starboard Waist.
‘It was happening again!’ Fisher felt shrapnel ricochet off his weapon and strike his leg, “Damn it!”
Fisher fell over and Ward was immediately on him, “You’re fine, it just nicked you!”
The starboard waist gunner laid on the deck for several moments, the waves of pain in his stomach and now his leg began shooting up his spine, “Oh man! Why!?”
Ward shrugged, “I don’t think they like you. Must be personal.”
He laughed and Ward helped him to his feet, “I’ll be ok.”
Flyby- Carrol looked out the copilot’s window, “Bandit is moving away, heading home it looks like.”
“Good riddance!” Sutton said and the crew laughed nervously.
Bomb Run- “I’ve got the airplane, Captain.”
“Roger.”
The Escorts remained tight with the formation, keeping the enemy at bay but they couldn’t scare away the Flak…
Flak-Heavy, 2 hits. One miss, one superficial.
Bomb Results: 2/3
Zone One: Round One: “ME110! 9 o’clock low!”
The Ball Turret gunner spotted the bandit, quickly moving towards them and Sgt. Thompson began firing in his fetal position tucked under the B-17. His shots were accurate, hitting an engine of the 110. Smoke began streaming behind him, but it wasn’t enough to down the bandit. In retaliation, the ME110 made a few holes in the fuselage, nothing major.
Flyby: “Heading towards you Tail! Watch it Tagliatelle!”
Tagliatelle sprayed wildly at the fast flying airplane, seconds to shoot was all he had, but his rounds struck true, hitting the bottom of the airplane, nothing too serious. It looked like the pilot of the 110 knew what he was doing. The 110’s tailgunner attempted to fire at them but missed.
Round Two: “Texas Roughneck” kept the bandit at bay as it attempted another pass, lots of tracer fire exchanged with all groups, but to no effect. On the flyby, no hits are registered and the bandit heads for home.
English Channel: Little friends manage to chase away some bandits at 9 low. The ball turret gunner could barely see the fighters at the distance they were, but he could see the aerial dancing they did in the sky as they fought hard for survival.
England: The landing was uneventful, and Kirk was impressed with the new copilot. 2nd Lieutenant Carrol was a good flier and helped with what he could when they were attacked. He never froze up or stopped helping Kirk. Maybe he would work out after all. Kirk suddenly took note that he was now the “Skipper, the Captain.” as the crew cheered another smooth landing and radioed their congratulations to him. He felt the responsibility weigh him down a bit as he taxied back to the hardstand.