NationStates Jolt Archive

Flight Leiutennet Kurt Bauer lay on his bunk in a barracks in poland where he stared up at the roof thinking about his family back home. Kurt flew a Bf-109 for the Luftwaffe and had flown missions over North Africa, Italy, Poland and France. Kurt was a skilled pilot who was just recently promoted for serving the Reich well in the short amount of time they had been at war with allied forces who were across the English channel.

Bauers dad had been a pilot in the Great War getting a total of 15 air kills. Kurt wanted to break his fathers record and gain the title Ace, one of his buddys approached,

"Kurt, They are taking more pilots in the West...England will face the wrath of the Luftwaffe my friend"

Kurt smiled,

"I have heard those Englanders can fly Hans...they won't be pushovers such as Poland my friend, it will require effort to defeat them, aha! Poland..2 weeks..aha"

He sat up looking at his commrade,

"We will have England in 2 months, the Whermact and the SS will land on their shores and they will know fear....true fear not of them..of the Luftwaffe! ahaha"

The sound of plane engines was heard outside, they taxied down the runways on recon missions, Germany did not fear any country when it came to air superiority. The Luftwaffe were the most skilled, best equiped pilots in the world as far as they were concerened.\


OOC: I need my orders...

RAF Kenley, Britain

The airfield was filled with spitfires as mechanics feverishily repaired them so that they'd be in tip top shape. It was a cloudy day, but no rain which was a relief. A group of pilots sat outside a hanger in lawn chairs, a phonograph next to one of them playing music. They sat there, drinking tea and laughing. It was a slow day. The calm before the storm. Charlie Ross sat there amoungst his friends and comrades.
"Oi, Charlie, let's see your lass" said Kent, trying to snatch a photo from Charlie
"Back off, mate!" Charlie responded and shoved him away. "Lizzie ain't for grabs" they all laughed. The crew chief, an older gent with an unshaven face, Lorry came up to them, wiping his hands clean of axel grease
"Well, mates. Your birds are as clean as whistles. Old jerry won't stand a chance"
They all thanked him and went about their way. Charlie sipped some tea and thought about his new wife and baby boy, he had tons of letters from her which he kept each one. Hopefully, he'd live through this to see them again.

http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=486096

OOC: Yes! here we go..ok just hadda say that ..no more OOC's on here :)

Major Behtskin sat in his office drinking a brandy to celebrate the victory that he and his squad,had just gained.In the past month they had just broken through the french "Maginot Line",captured Paris and had pushed the british and french forces out of France at Dunkirk.

His squad had shot down alreday a total of 7 enemy planes.He himself shooting 2 of them.Behtskin sighed however.The victory had been bittersweet.

Each member of Behtskins squad had been hand selected by Behtskin himself.Every member of his squad was a warrior in there own right.Behtskin could not settle for regular old pilots in his squad.He only took the best.He loved his men to death and would take 1000 rounds to the chest to prove it.That's why it felt like 3000 rounds to the face when Labershat had died.
He had been shot down by anti-aircraft fire when they were escorting bombers over Dunkirk.He mourned Labershats loss but he would not die in vain.He vowed to shoot down every english pilot he and his squad came across.

There was no more time for mourning as Behtskin searched the service records for someone who stood out amongst the rest.Labershat deserved a good replacement.

He stopped at one name.Bauer,Kurt the record read.He had an excellent record.He had flown in various places such as Italy and North Africa.Bauer,Behtskin knew the name."You did not tell me you had a son,Markus."Behtskin said out loud."Did you say something Sir"Renald,his wingman,said from outside the office."No" Behtskin replied,"but I think we have found our new squadmate.Send a transfer request for this man.He is stationed in Poland and put in the request my name and that it is the utmost importance he gets here before the inevitable bombing of London comes." Renald immediatly said "Yes Sir.Hail Hitler." Behtskin returned his salute and kept looking at the record of Kurt Bauer.Behtskin thought"You better be up to the task kid.I only accept the best.But with Bauer blood in you I don't see how you will fail."

Behtskin smiled and took another sip of brandy.He thought"Is it possible you are alive,Markus?"

Bauer was called to his commanders headquarters over a loudspeaker. He got up and placed on his peaked officers cap, it was also raining out so he put on his Luftwaffe greatcoat. He was met by a kubel wagon at the door which drove him to his commanders office in the main facility of the air field.

He waited for afew minutes then was told he would be seen, he entered the room and threw up the Nazi salute and clicked his heels, he removed his cap..

"Sir! you requested my presence.."

The officer behind the desk replyed after returning the salute..

"Ahh, Bauer...one of my best, i have received a telegram from a Major in France by the name of Behtskin...he has requested that you be transfered the front immeaditly under his command as a wingman"

"Are you up to it son?"

Kurt thought for a moment then replyed,

"I will serve Germany Sir, where ever my dutys take me"

The officer stood up and shook his hand,

"Congradualtions Bauer, your on your way to the top...get some of them for all of us behind the lines Leiutennet, make your fuhuer and your country proud..the Luftwaffe is the backbone of the German armed forces...we control the skys"

Bauer saluted once more,

"Yes Sir!"

After he was dismissed Kurt went back to his bunk and started collecting his personal items, his friend Lars walked up,

"Transfer? Greece? Italy?" he asked watching his friend collect his stuff..

"France..."

Lars placed his hand on Kurts shoulder,

"Good luck Kurt, don't get killed over there..i hear those RAF guys are tough, they have skills.."

Kurt smiled,

"Im a Bauer, no skills can touch mine friend.."

They both smiled...

"Im too fast my friend, untouchable in the skys.."

Bauer was known for speeding in towards his targets and lighting them up, he would quickly come back and stick right on to their arse end riddling them with bullets, he would tend to move too quick for the enemy to respond to his movements.

Behtskins was deep in thought.He thought of the great about 30 years ago.He thought of the thrill as he flew for the first time.He felt the exihilleration when he shot down his first enemy plane.Most of all though,he though of his best friend,Markus Bauer.

Markus had run away from home as a child.He joined the army and,like Behtskin, had flown an airplane.Bauer was the only man that he knew that had outscored him in kills .Behtskin then remembered the 2nd worst day of his life.

It was a cold Febuary morning in France, 1916.Behtskin and Markuss were patrolling when 4 British fighters flew out of the rising sun shooting.No pilot had any chance of dodging gun fire at that range and from the back and he was shot down.Behtskin had remembered the sudden pain and then disbelife at thouse few secounds in time.It has to be a fent he remembered himself thinking half expecting Markus to turn around and shoot down all British planes.This did not happen and Markus had contiuned plumetting until you coldnt see the plane anymore.Only a trail of black smoke... and an almost inhuman scream of a dying man.

"Sir" Renald walked into the room and interuppted Behtskins train of thought."The telegram has been sent and our new squad mate is expected to arrive by tommorow afternoon."Good" Behtskin replied.Inform the men of there new squad mate and then get some shut eye.Were all going to need it"

OOC:Need to get off now.Be on Tomorrow!

Behtskins best quality in a dogfight is his abilty to suprise.He uses weather to hide his squad abouve the enmy and then orders his squad to dive bomb the enemy while shooting.

Paris, France

Nurse Tania Capron finished checking on her patients before she left the hospital and went to her rooms to lay down and rest. It had been a long night for the young nurse, and she needed the rest.

Lt.Bauer strolled towards his Bf-109 which had been recently refuled, the truck was pulling away. He climed the ladder and dropped in the cockpit where he took a beautiful womens picture out of his breast pocket placing it under his gages right where he could see it. Bauers girlfriend was a nurse in France, he would soon link up with her and they would be togeather.

He slid the cockpit closed and turned on the engine of his fighter, it sputtered then roared to life making the propellers spin faster and faster,

"To France.." He said quietly to himself...

The started to taxi the plane down the runway making a final cheak to all his gauges,

"Everythings good...ready for take off.."

He pulled back the wheel and the plane slowly lifted off the ground into the air and he started to gain altitude. The Bf-109 had taken off and Bauer flew it straight then banked to the right bringing it back over the airfield, he excelerated and flew low over the buildings at a fast speed so to catch attention from others who waved him off on the ground.

Bauer climed into the clouds, he loved the feeling of being above everything else..on top of the world, he banked left, then right and did a barrel roll,

"Yeeah! whooo" he said loudly....

His next destination...occupied France...

OOC: Post my arrival, i needa be cleared in order to land...

Coltishall RAF

A group of pilots sit at a hanger, behind them are Hurricanes IIBs. This squadron had a few British officers, the rest were Americans. These men join to fight in Britian because many hated Hitler and his evil "reich". John McAffien was the British officer in charged of the squadron. The squadron's best pilot was a third generation German-American named Paul Wolfsburg. He came out of the office of Sqd Ldr. McAffien.

Ok, we are to support the Dunrik evacution. We'll be armed with 2 500lbs bombs.

Then, McAffien comes out and opens his mouth and gives out the following.

TO THE PLANES, WE FLY TO VICTORY

Wolfsburg and the men knew this meant the operation starts now. The Hurricanes lift into the air on to their mission.

RAF Caldwell Minor, Britain

Erik sat in the passenger seat of the Jeep, thinking about his situation and the events that had kept him busy for the past few months. It had all started on the early morning on the 9th of April when Jagervingen at Fornebu was ordered to take to the skies to defend the capital Oslo, peaked when he had singlehandedly shot down two aircraft and plummeled when Erik was forced to flee Norway and his family on the tenth of June. Now, he sat in a foreign uniform on his way to fly with a lot of foreigners in a foreign plane in defense of a foreign nation. Shaking his head slightly at the bizzare turns of faith, he looked up at the guard armed with a Lee Enfield and presented his identification. He was no longer Kaptein Erik Hansen, Hærens Flyvevåpen, but Flight Lieutenant Erik Hansen, Royal Air Force. The guard let them pass and the driver, a sergeant in the RAF drove Erik to the tarmac. Getting out of his thoughts as the Jeep stopped, Erik looked around. A lot of Spitfires and a lot of mechanics and pilots sitting in the tents outside the mansion which served as the Squadron HQ.

Getting out of the Jeep, Erik grabbed his duffelbag and walked over to the tent where the pilots sat. Many saw him coming, and apparently they were telling eachother that a new pilot had arrived. An older man dressed in a pilots uniform and gear rose from his seat and walked to Erik, who dropped his duffel and saluted.

"Flight Lieutenant Erik Hansen reporting as ordered sir." he said in a moderately accented voice. After the officer, a Squadron Leader returned the salute, Erik handed him the transfer orders and identification papers. The orders were signed by the War Minster himself, making the Squadron Leader look up.

"Transfered from the Norwegian Army eh?"

"Yes sir."

"I see from your papers that you've seen action against jerry."

"Shot down two planes over Oslo sir."

"Jolly good! We need more men with experience. Jerry is making a damned ruckus, interrupting in the middle of tea and everything."

Before he could continue, a sergeant ran to the air raid alarm and started operating it, alerting everything within a five kilometer radius. Instantly, everyone dropped whatever they were doing and ran to their planes.

"Where's my plane sir?"

"Right over here. SERGEANT WILKINS!"

A man with brown hair and mustache dressed in a dirty mechanics jumpsuit ran over to the Squadron Leader, clearly irritated at the interruption.

"Sir?"

"This is our new pilot, Flight Lieutenant Hansen. Get him a plane and get him airborne please," the Squadron Leader said to the mechanic before adressing Erik. "Good luck old chap."

Then he ran to his own aircraft while Erik followed the mechanic to a slightly beaten up aircraft with patched up bulletholes and what seemed like dried blood inside. While he got into the flying outfit, Erik asked Sgt. Wilkins.

"Aye, ol' Danny had this plane. Good chap. He parked it and turned off the engine before he died. That was two days ago I think."

"Herregud..."

"Yep. Oh yeah. Your callsign is Red three. Godspeed!"

Before long, Erik was in the cockpit and tried to remember which switch did what and which meter showed what. After a few seconds, he managed to start up the Rolls Royce Merlin engine and get the Spitfire moving. After waiting about half a minute, he taxied into the runway and gained speed. Eventually, the Spit gained enough momentum to fly and it rose from the ground. Erik waited three seconds before raising the landing gear and climbing to cruise altitude along with the rest of his squadron.

"Red squadron, Red lead. The army on the rhine needs assistance at Dunkirk, and we are to provide air superiority. Climb to ten thousand feet and follow my lead. If you see any bandits, call out. Confirm, over."

"Red two. Roger that."

"Red three, understood."

Erik was on his way on the first mission for the RAF. Hopefully, it wouldn't be his last...

RAF Kenley

Charlie checked his watch, it was mid day and still no action. He loved and feared to fly into combat. He was serving his nation and protecting it, but there were massive risks. Risks he was willing to take. The phonograph spun till there was no more music and the men retired to the mess hall. The day's work done, left only to eat and grow fat on the gound.
"When are we gonna see some cation?" Kent asked through a spoonful of mashed potatoes.
"Soon eonugh" Charlie said in a distant tone, looking down at his plate. Several planes roared overhead for practice, and to scare the hell out of the men on the ground. The tables rumbled and some plates fell off. Charlie took off his cap and drank some more tea. Waiting was worse than fighting. Every moment was stressful, some men couldn't handle it. One must become numb to it in order to survive. One big thing concerened him, his wife and newborn son, John. He implored her to leave London but she refused. Lizzie was a tough woman with a fiery attitude. That was the name of his plane, Lizzie. Because their both spitfires.

Near Dunkirk, France
The No.133 was supposed to bomb targets in France but, had other plans.

Sqd. Ldr. McAffian brief the men in flight,We were to attack German forces in the area but, plan changed, Yanks. We are find and destroy a FW-200 Condor located in the area, as you know these Condors are scouts for those damned U-boats.

A voice heard on the radio
This is Wolfsburg, sir. The FW-200 is front of us, sir.

McAffian saw the plane and with a "tally ho", the squadron dived to meet their prey. The Hurricane IIB was armed with 12 .303 machine guns making her deadly . Then, two Me-109Es appeared. Wolfsburg broke off to meet them. McAffian joined him.
Wolfsburg, you damn yank, don't have all the fun.
Wolfsburg's laugher was heard on the radio.

The Germans weren't prepared for actually British fighters in the area. Their reports stated that there would be British bombers in the area. The 109s dived to fight the Brit and American. Wolfsburg drawed first blood when he nailed the first one with a shot to the wing. McAffian got the second one in the tail.

Ok, that's enough. Let's leave before Jerry finds out that we're here. Oh, what happen to that Condor.

Wolfsburg replied
I just got him before his friends got here.

McAffian led out a laugh, as the fighters returned to their base.

A familiar sound broke the dead silence on the airfield. The alarm blared. The men jumped from their benches in the mess hall, shouting, excited. CHarlie quickly dashed outside as the pilots scrambled to their planes. The ground crews just finished loading the ammunition and got out of the way. The pilots were dressed in their flight suits and hopped into the spitfires. Charlie boarded his plan, Lizzie and pulled the goggles over his head as the crew chief stepped on the ladder to report on how the plane was, Charlie nodded and the chief dashed off. This was it, a small enemy bomber group was approaching, just crossing the Channel. The Rolls-Royce Merlin XII engine roared as the propeller spinned at a high rate. He taxied the spitfire onto the runway and prepared to take off. The plane began to move down the runway, picking up speed and lift. Within a short time he was airborn and headed toards the coat, just south of their arifield. Kent was his wingman as the planes made their formations.
The formation of Junker-88's approached the coat, expecting to meet resistance. The spirfires rose far above the bombers and dove at a high speed. The gun crews on the bombers began their barrage of flak. The tiny explosions exploded all around Charlie, but he kept his nerve. He swooped down and came up behind a bomber and began blasting his guns, tearing away at the tail of the bomber, he broke off and came back around, firing into its' side. Black smoke came from the bomber as it descended and crashed into the sea, scattering. The encounter with the others was short, must've been some bombers who got lost in the fog. Charlie released a deep breathe he'd been holding the entire time and the planes flew back to base.

Control Tower at Wellderfield Airbase Northern France...

"Sir",the man in the control tower said."Yes"Behtskin replied."Is our man on radar?"The man replied"Yes sir.Shall I give him clearence to land."Yes Son"Behtskin said."You may"

All of Rander came running out of the communications room.He ran to Behtskin and said"The first raids on Britain has begun.Were set to escort bombers to bomb London itself."Rander stopped to catch his breath."Who issued these commands?'behtskin said."It came straight from Highcom."
"Let me speak with them." Behtskin said as he walked to the communications room.

As Behtskin entered the communications room he looked to the sky and mumbled,"You better get here soon kid.Theres a war going on."At this Behtskin went into the comm room to speak with high comm themselves.

The airfield came into veiwOnce Bauer came out of the clouds, he was given clearance to land then slowed his speed and let his landing gear down, slowly he desended towards the ground, the tires screached on the pavement upon touchdown. The Bf-109 rolled down the runway then came to a halt where Bauer turned it around facing the direction on which he came ready for take off, he climed out and was greeted by the Luftwaffe ground crews,

"Ahh! what a wonderful day for an invasion gentleman?" he remarked with a smirk..

He waited for a staffcar or Kubel wagon to pick him up, it was quite the walk to command from his position. Bauer straightened himself out quickly so to look professional when he met his new commanding officer, a certian Major Behtskin, good reputation, real honorable dignifyed German officer so he had heard.

OCC: Bump

Coltishall RAF

Wolfsburg was looking at the squadron orders posted outside of McAffian's office. The paper said the same thing everybody in No.133 knew, they were tasked with defending London from attack. He walked back to the bunks and fell asleep.

RAF Northolt

Alex sat on a lawn chair in front of a hangar, having just played a two and a half hour game of football, he wanted some shut-eye, he put a cap over his eyes to try and get some.

"Alex! Not tired are we?!"

He sat up squinting as his eyes got used to the light, he saw Phillip Parry, a pilot in his flight, he then grinned and shook his head. "Nah, wanna be ready to get some Jerrys though...that is....when they come.."

Phil laughed, "Yeah, they're taking their good old time aren't they? They'll come soon, otherwise we'll have to go after them." He smiled then sat in the hangar, "Why aren't you in the shade, if you want sleep?"

"I want a tan, I heard some of the nurses are quite.....spiffing." He replied, winking, then turning again to face the runway, his Spitfire was on the other side and whilst he admired the beauty of it, Phil had gotten up and walked to the mess, "Guess I better get some scoff." Alex thought, then looking to the sky he wondered, "Where are you, Jerry, I want a scuffle."

Wellderfield Airfield

A kubel wagon pulled up and Bauer opened the door and hopped in, the Corporal driving greeted him,

"Welcome to Wellderfield sir"

He nodded but didn't say anything, his attention drifted to a group of Bf-109's flying close behind some Stuka's moving across the cloudless blue sky. The Kubel wagon pulled up to the control tower where Bauer got out,

"Danke," He said then shut the door..

The Luftwaffe pilot entered the side door to the control tower heading for the stairs, there were two Luftwaffe ground troops standing at the bottom,

"Papers please.." One asked..

Bauer showed his identification, the guards parted when he moved towards the stairs after giving him a salute. He got to the top where radio operators and other men carrying out tasks worked quickly at their stations, he approached one of them and said,

"Major Behtskin? where is he?"

Over the English Channel

Erik had managed to get over the English Channel without difficulties, but that was where the troubles stopped. In the air over the white cliffs of Dover, Erik met his old adversary: the Luftwaffe. A lot of aircraft were flying over the air, many painted in the grey and yellow color scheme of the Luftwaffe, while a few were pained in the green and red color scheme of the RAF.

"Red leader to Red Squadron. Break formation and assume pairs. Red two and five; three and six, pair up. Red four, you're with me. Good luck chaps! Out!" the Squadron Leader said over the radio before the Spitfires broke out of the loose formation they had been flying in. Erik pulled the stick back and to the left, breaking left while climbing to attack the enemy from above. The Merlin engine had a tendency of chocking when flying upsde down because it didn't have fuel-injection like the Messerschmitts had, Erik remembered from his training, so he made sure that he didn't climb steeper than sixty degrees. At thirteen thousand feet, he levelled off and looked for his prey.

He needed not look long, because two Me-109Es were moving to intercept the two RAF fighters. Smiling slightly, Erik moved his Spit into a steep dive directly against the lead Messerschmitt. When he was six hundred feet from it, Erik pressed in the trigger on the joystick and let loose the eight .303 Browning machine guns in the wings. After sending a number of bullets into the enemy aircraft, he was pleased to see a lot of flames and smoke appear from the front of the Me-109 as he levelled the Spit. Flying through a barrage of 7.92mm bullets and 20mm shells from the other Messerschmitt, Erik could hear the smaller-caliber bullets rip into the fusilage of his Spit. Cursing slightly, he entered a series of erratic evasive manouvers, pulling the Spit up, down, sideways and semi-looping, doing his best to shake the Me-109 behind him. The wingman was pretty busy trying to keep from being shot down himself, so Erik couldn't count on him to help bail Erik out. Finally, he managed to shake the Me-109 by utilizing the greater manouverability of the Spit to outmanouver the Me-109 and thus be able to get behind him and shoot him down.

After about ten minutes of intense dogfighting, the Me-109s retreated and the Spits were ordered to return to base due to lack of fuel and ammo. They had shot down about twelve enemy aircraft with four friendly losses, but they would claim about twice the real enemy casualties when they got back to Caldwell Minor, and Erik had proved that he was an able combat pilot. He had survived his first encounter against an enemy on equal terms. Hopefully, he would survive the next encounter as well.

RAF Kenley

The squadron touched down one at a time. Charlie held the holding pattern while waiting for his chance. Finally it came. Landing always made him nervous but he managed to calm his nerves and the plane hit the ground, it bounced a little, knocking his photo from the controls. The spitfire taxied to the hanger and the propeller winded down. He took off his goggles and stepped dwon from the spitfire, his boots hitting solide ground "thank god" he said.
"Thank the plane, she pulled through just fine" the crew chief said with a smirk.
"There was some vibrations from the engine, can you take a look?" Charlie asked as he looked up to the sky as other planes circled around.
"No problem" the crew chief got straight to work. Charlie walked away to the mess hall and got some tea to calm his nerves. Finally, there was some action and he wasn't rusty at all.

ooc. since there's another Erik, I'll call mine Erik Hazelhoff to avoid confusion

Biggin Hill, Great Britain

"Sir, we've arrived" the driver announced. Erik Hazelhoff woke with a jolt. He had been sleeping all the way to Biggin Hill, trying to catch every moment of sleep he could get. "Ah, thanks for driving me, miss..." "It's my duty sir." He stared after her as she drove off again and then turned around. In front of him was Biggin Hill, the base of 322 "Dutch" Squadron. He walked to what seemed to be the main building and asked for the CO of 322 Sq.

"You mean Kenny, well he has just returned from a patrol with the rest of the boys. He should be in the Canteen drinking some tea or ale. You should look there if you want to speak him, sir."
"Thank you."

*opens door, steps into Canteen full of smoke, noise and loud talking*

"Excuse me sir, but where can I find the CO?"
"Well, you've got the right man! Let me introduce myself. I'm Ken Kensington, everybody calls me Kenny though! *laughs* You must be the new Dutch fellow...Well, follow me to my office."

They left the canteen and head for the office of the CO.

"Well, as you no doubt have seen, heared and experienced yourself Jerry has overrun most of Europe and now tries to bring Britannia to its knees! Ha, he'll fail of course, but that's a different matter. The Dutch Groundcrew and Flying Crew who managed to escape Holland have reformed as 322 "Dutch" Squadron. I'm one of the few who isn't Dutch, I'm British just as some other chaps. We haven't seen much combat lately, one of the reasons was that we hadn't had enough planes to get a decent formation of the ground! We received 15 Spitfires, Mk. I, three days ago. With you as a new pilot, we've got a full Squadron. I'll show you your plane and introduce you to the rest. Shall we go then?"
"Allright, sir!"

Cotishall RAF
McAffian barged through to doors. He held a piece of paper, and announced the following.

The City of Dover is under attack. Get the Hurricanes and hurry.

The Americans and Brits got to the fighters and took off to defend Dover from the attack.

Over Dover, England
The pilots saw bombers and fighters, Paul and McAffian headed towards the fighters with 5 others plane, while the rest fought the bombers. Paul got a Me-109 in his sight and fired all 12 guns. The fighter was destroyed. Then, he saw McAffian was trying to flee from what look like to be an ace. He went after the German ace and fired, He closed his eyes for bit, then opened them to see the plane in flames. McAffian radioed him.

Wolfsburg, you just scored an bloody German ace. Well, no time for chat. We have more.

Then, a sound of bullets flew past Paul, the ace's wingman has after him. He turned to see a Me-109E had him. He turned to dodge him. The Hurricane was a much older plane. The 109 kept coming after him, he then slowed down and the plane passed him. He fire at the 109, hitting it in the wing. The 109 then went into a steep dive and the wing fell off. He saw another and went after it, geting it in the tail. The fight was over, Paul smiled because on that sunny day over Dover. He became a member of the loyal order of aces. He thought to himself. An ace

Major Behtskin hung the radio piece and walked out of the communications bulding.He smiled.He had just heard they would part of the first wave to bomb London.His men would be thrilled.

Behtskin turned his attention to an approaching Kubel Wagon with a young looking ssandy haired man in it.As it came closer he realised that this must be Kurt Bauer.behtskin only did not reckonize him at first because he looked nothing like his father.the only thing that he could see that he was like his father was the familiar glint in his eye.The glint of ambition.The same glint his father had.

Behtskin dropped the smile as the Kubel wagon stopped and Kurt Bauer got out.He could not play favorites in his squad.The young Bauer had to earn his respect.Bauer walked over to him and saluted and Behtskin returned it.He shoke Bauers hand and said to one of the men."Get this man a uniform and paint his plane with our colors."The man said "Yes Sir." and walked away.Behtskin then returned his attention to another man saying " Tell the men to report to the briefing room in 2 hours."This man also saluted and went out to do as instucted.Behtskin then returned his attention to Bauer,"Do you think you have what it takes son,do you think you have what it takes to be in my squad.If you think yes then you are wrong.No man who first joins my squad is ready but do not fear we will make you ready.This Kubel wagon shall take you to the barracks.Report to the briefing room in 2 hours.

At this Behtskin turned and got into a newly arrived staff car and was driven off to his own quarters.

Bauer clicked his heels and threw up the Nazi salute. Bauer frowned when he was told that he wasn't ready but the ego he had built up in his own head seemed louder than the Majors voice, he blinked canceling the thought out of his mind then replyed,

"Yes Sir!"

He listened to the Major bark his orders then watched him leave in the staff car, much like the one his father used to ride in before bad health over took him. Bauer watched as the ground crew headed towards his Bf-109 saying to himself,

"I can hardly wait to show him what i got...."

Bauer followed the man instructed to get him a uniform from the supply depot. Once he had got his new flying suit along with other accessories he changed into them then started to unpack his personal items into his barrack box, he was ordered to report to the Briefing room in two hours...did it mean action?...bomber escort?...raids?...he was egar to face the British over their own country.

bump...

bump....

Wellderfiled Airbase,Northern France.

"and I want thouse planes reday to lift on a secounds notice."Behtskin finshed."Yes Sir." the Airfiled Manager said."Good,now get to it."Behtskin said.He was in the briefing room.His men were do here any minute.He went over ehat he was going to say in his head.The men would be excited about there new mission.

Minutes Later...
12 men walked into the briefing room.They were his squad,The Silver Daggers.They were the best men Behtskin had ever flown with,save one.As the men walked in they saluted and Behtskin returned it with a "Hail Hitler."
they returned his with there own.They sat in silence waiting for Behtskin to begin.


"My brothers",began Behtskin,My friends,My comrades,You have all shown your devotion to Germany.Each one of you has years of experience.You all have risked your lives for mother germany and the Fuher.You have all witnessed our victory after victory.We have never lost a battle.You are all the best of the best.That is why the Fuher himself has requested that he send none other than the Silver Daggers on this most important mission.Tommorowwe will be the first to commence bombing runs over London itself.I will not lie,the risk will be great but if you show the devotion and strength to our cause as you always have the Silver Daggers will emerge victorious once again.Get some sleep and report for duty at 0600(6:00)".
At this,Behtskin walked out of the room to a thuderous cheer.

OOC:About the post with Muchokookoo.Thats my other account.I acidently posted with it.Sorry about that.

Paris France

"We," Tania answered a question, "I will do that sir."
The young woman turned and hurriedly walked towards a room, the hospital thus far was doing well. After getting 5 hours of sleep, Tania was ready for her shift to start and her first rounds of checking on people. During her free waking hours, Tania would often think of her boyfriend until work would call her back.

(OOC: I know the hospitals weren't like hospitals of today, however I'm not sure what they were like back then so I just said they had rooms..I'm still in to this rp.)