Major air battles of WWII with ponies.
Arc; 1 The Battle Of Britain
SCRAMBLE!! numerous German Fighter and bomber waves detected, ALL PILOTS TO YOUR AIRCRAFT!!
"You heard the order now, MOVE PONIES MOVE!" Spitfire shouted as she and her squad mates from Phoenix wing ran down the hallway to the hangars. "And Remember this is a scramble, you get in your fighter and you go, as little of a delay as possible!" "Only this time time is of the essence so I don't care which fighter you get in just get in and go!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Dash lead checking in." "All planes in the air."
"Phoenix lead checking in, all planes here.
"Serpent squad, all in."
"Ok command, 21st fighter wing all planes in the air." "Bombers spotted!"
"Ok pincer intercept, Dash high, Phoenix right, Serpent left, Celestia speed to you."
"Tally ho ponies, now lets give jerry the sound beating he deserves!" Soarin shouted as the fighter wave split.
(pov) Serpent 5: Rainnel G: Stallion R: earth pony
"i have you now-" i was interrupted by the sounds of bullets striking the hurricane. I looked over to my 4'o clock high and saw a formation of Me-109's diving on us. "109's 4'o clock high, Break!" I tried to dive right but some of the bullets had penetrated the radiator, and so when i dived the engine started to emit smoke. "Come on, come on a little bit more." "Serpent 5, radiator's shot (quite literaly), engine's starting to smoke- Gahh!" I was again interuped as the hurricane was again peppered by fire. This time shooting through the canopy and and a few hitting me in the leg. By now the engine was by my guess mere seconds from catching fire. Tough i couldn't be sure because of the blood from my leg splattered on the tempature gauge. I quickly selected and jettosoned the fuel slipper that i had on the belly of the hurricane. "Serpent 5, i gotta bail." I tried to get the canopy to open, i got it not more than 2 inches before it jammed. "Damn it, why does this always happen when you want to bail out." I tried to elbow the glass, but to no avail. I then pulled out my 5mm and put a few holes in the locking mechanism, and pulled. Luckily i was then able to pull the canopy back just enough for me to squeeze through. It was at this time that the engine caught fire, and along with that the oil in the right wing was ignited at almost the same time. I didn't have the time nor room to grab my parachute so i got onto the left wing, leaped slightly, and using that energy, jumped and curled up into a ball to avoid the 109 still on my six. Then the last thing i did was hope to celestia and luna that my cutie mark would prevent me from dying on immediate impact with the water below.
(pov) Dash 7: Codename: Wraith, G: stallion R: unicorn
I watched as the flaming hurricane spiraled into the clouds below, as i inverted my Typhoon trying to steady it despite the massive shaking of the air frame. That was a downside of flying a ground attack aircraft like this on a fighter attack mission, being if you fly it like a spitfire you better have stregnth of that of a minotaur to control the shaking. The plus side of the Typhoon in air to air combat besides of the armor and durabiltiy is that you got around 6 cannons with enough firepower to send a tiger tank to hell and back, not even counting the external stores. "Dash 7, Rainbow on me, strafing run." I saw her plane's canopy open and a sky blue hoof stick out and and motion forward two times before the canopy closed. We have a bucking radio Dash I pulled up on the stick and tried to weather the intense shuddering. I lined up the lead 109 in the formation that was still firing on Serpent squad, and fired about a 3 second burst. The 109 didn't know what hit 'em as the first few rounds hit he flamed up, and with the rest hitting body, which in term submitted under the constant barrage. The tail section of the fighter was sheared completely off while the front part spiraled into the drink below, which luckily scattered the formation. "Now how's that for hammered you buckers?! I then lined up a henkill bomber and fired. The red hot 50cal rounds pounded the bomber shearing it's right wing off with a violent snap. As I lined up on the bomber on the last one's right, my Typhoon started shuddering and then the engine stopped. "Damn it, next mission I'm flying a tempest." I turned off the engine switch and turned it back on as I engaged the WEP (War Emergency Power). The henkill' s rear gunner started to spray lead at me. A few of the shots hit my engine cowling, but the thick armor of the Typhoon easily deflected them. I regained control of the Typhoon and lined up on the rear gunner putting a burst of lead into his bloody head. "THIS IS WRAITH!"
(Pov) Phoenix 4 Fleetfoot G; Stallion R; Pegasus
As me and my wingmare (Streak) started to line up on another henkil something glinted black it of the corner of my eye. I looked over and spotted a formation of Stuka dive bombers on a direct course for the carrier; ERN (Equestrian Royal Navy) Cadenza. "Phoenix 4, I've spotted a formation of Stuka dive bombers heading for the ERN Cadnza requesting backup and engaging." "Streak on me."
"Roger that fleet."
I broke my spitfire into a hard right bank getting a lead on the Stuka taking up the rear and fired. The shells raked the dive bomber all the way from the engine cowling to the tail. Thereby killing both the pilot and rear gunner sending the Stuka into a death dive into the drink below. I suddenly heard a rat a tat a tat atat, and as I looked up I saw a Stuka diving at me with its two forward firing guns blazing. I rolled inverted and to the right just enough and just in time to avoid the mid-air collision with the Stuka. Except that the Stuka banked to the left slightly, but just enough for his rear gunner to squeeze off a few rounds at my spitfire. One of which hit my canopy, nearly hitting me in the hoof. The rest tough hit the engine cowling, piercing through the armor and hitting my secondary radiator. Which then in term started to spew out oil, some of which blocked my canopy. But most of it, since it hit the secondary radiator- which was partly inside of the canopy not the cowling entirely, started to spray oil into the cockpit. "Oh Celestia-arug- Phoenix 4-gruah, I've got a oil leak-pheh-probably the radiator-ahhgrrh-or m- AHH BUCKING HELL MY EYES!-ggrr-more likely the secondary!" I finally got enough oil out of my eyes to be able to put my flight goggles on which I did. I could barely see out of the front of the canopy it was so covered in oil. I tried to assess the damage: radiator: leaking oil, engine: intact, canopy; smeared with oil, a bullet hole, flight instruments; smeared with oil but mostly intact. I would've continued but as I tried to clean some of the oil off of the gun sight I saw out of a little gap in the oil, a lone 110 heading straight for me guns hot. I quickly slammed the stick to the right and down as fast and hard as I could as the adrenaline kicked in. I heard a loud snap and as I looked over to my left wing I saw the damage. Luckily I had reacted just in time to avoid the collision, but not quick enough to avoid having the wing mounted machine gun from being sheared off. My plane started to spiral to the right as a result of the massive amounts of g's I pulled in that dodge, so I quickly corrected it and looked over my six. To my horror two 109's were diving on me from my six, guns spraying hot lead at my Sea Fury. I slammed the throttle lever down, and barely ripped the stick off as I went into a loop. "Comeon bucker comeon bucker..." I repeated to myself as I tried to hold the inching climb. Just before I reached stalling speed the two 109's shot under me. "DID YA BUCKING MISS ME!?" I rolled the fury inverted and slammed the throttle to wep, placing me on their tails.
(Pov) 192nd light bomber group, plane: Blenheim; neamori. Crew 4; Blizzard(pilot), jackal(bombadier, nose turret gunner) Sound Wave(top gunner) thunderlane (observer/flight engineer)
(P) "Holy mother of faust, stallions it's gonna get bumpy so everypony who's not either flying or a gunner start bracing for impacts." I yelled into the radio.
(TG) "Multiple 190's closing fast-ALL GUNNERS open fire!" I said as I cocked my machine gun and opened fire at the nearest fighter. The fighter gave in to the hail storm of fire and burst into flames as It fell into the drink below. I quickly turned my gun to aim at the next 190 but I was too slow and it and it's wingpony made it through. A few seconds later I heard shots ringing against the bomber's waist, I then saw bullet holes appear and I heard a loud scream. I looked over and saw thunderlane on the ground, clutching his left hind leg with blood splattered on the left side of the plane's body.
(B) "AHGRAH!" I heard a scream of pain so I left the nose and looked into the body of the plane. I saw the flight engineer; Thunderlane, on the ground in a small pool of blood, clutching his left hind leg. I immediately grabbed the first aid kit by the door to the glass nose and set to work patching up his leg.
(Pilots account of what happens next) "Oh shit Major furball ahead, Everypony bucking hold on to something and brace!" I yelled into the radio as I throttled up to max, the single machine gun in the port wing firing almost non stop. I heard a loud explosion and turned my head to the left just in time to see a shot up sea fury zoom by chasing two 109's. I quickly retuned my headset only to be filled with the voices of my formation.
"Stay in formation"
"I can't shake him I can't shake him, Aruahhh!- a large shearing cuts the message out
"I'm hit-engine one burning, Bail out Bail out!"
"OH SHI- I turn to see a Stuka slam straight into a Blenheim, shredding the nose to pieces as it caught fire and went into a death dive.
"BRACE!"
"I'M DEAD!" I recognize the voice and look to the bomber to my immediate right. (He describes what he saw then)
i looked over at the Blenheim to my immediate right. I was close enough that I could see inside the cockpit. The pilot; we called him sacker, looked over his shoulder and turned back to see a 190 comming straight at him. It was about 12 seconds from impact. All he had time to do was put his hooves up to try and shield his face. The 190's 30mm cannon shells pounded into the engine while the machine guns pierced the canopy, and into sacker. The starboard engine was set ablaze and the canopy covered in blood. The 190's right wing impacted and sliced through the plexiglass of the canopy, as it broke off from the fighter, which was now spiralling to its death. Yet he somehow managed to keep it level for just long enough for three ponies to jump out of the crippled bomber before I saw him go limp as the plane went into a dive.
"Permission to leave the turret sir?"
"Denied, keep firing!"
(Bombadier's account)
After I got thunderlane back on his hooves, I started for the nose. I heard the pilot shout; "EVERYPONY HOLD ON!" I braced thunderlane, before the bomber started to do a split S. I lost my grip and skidded until my hoof found a handle and I propped myself on it. I struggled under the intense g-forces of the dive. I strained to keep from blacking out, as the plane went inverted.
(Pov) 190th bomb wing, plane: Halifax heavy bomber Mk VI; death from above.
Crew:
Pilot; lightning and co pilot; Searing
Bombadier and nose gunner: Carnage
Navigator and flight engineer: Stone and Dust
Rear gunner: Jay zeemer
Top gunner: Sierra
Left and right gunners: Flitter, and Cloudchaser
Ventral turret gunner: Sonoma
"FIGHTERS COMMING IN FAST ALL GUNNERS OPEN FIRE!"
(Top gunner's account) The order came in over the radio just as I spotted the 110's at 3'o clock. The Landcaster bombers of the 190th and some wellingtons from the 192nd were just now re-entering friendly territory, comming back from a bombing run on the manufacturing plants in Himmelsdorf. We were Suprised mainly because of the heavy enemy fighter resistance on the way to the target. We had lost over 30 of our supermarine Firefly escort, but we were lucky to only have lost 2 Halifaxs. The Blenheims however were a different story entirely. They lost about a dozen bombers and a half dozen of their fighter escort; A formation of Spitfires Mark II' s just got torn to shreds. I lined up my twin 50cal' s on the 110 diving on the Landcaster, and fired a 3 second burst into his nose setting it alight and sending him down into the drink. In a heartbeat I moved the guns to the second bf (110) sending a 2 second volley that sheared his left wing clear off. Before I could unload on the last 110 the Landcaster banked left and the bf shot straight under the belly of the bomber. I heard a few rounds being fired and I saw the 110 reappear on the left side in flames, most likely from our ball turret gunner; Sonoma. I no more that seven seconds later I saw red hot tracers fly just above my turret. I instinctively threw my weight to my back, thereby falling backwards off of the platform rolling backwards just before I hit the metal of the Halifax. It's one of the first thing they either teach you or one of the first things you learn to do if you want to live past your first sortie. Because if bullets are flying just over the top of your turret, it's going to move down in the next few seconds if it's an enemy fighter. Because if you don't you're more that likely, going to be shot straight through the head. You learn when to roll and the right way to roll if you don't want to keep landing flat on your back, that really hurts. Sure enough about two seconds later i heard bullets striking the armor of the bomber. I waited untill the sound of bullets striking stopped before climbing back up into the turret. I then spotted our attacker; a lone me-109. I tried to turn the guns to face him but he had managed to damage the auto turret rotate mechanism. So I just disabled it and rotated the guns myself. It was lucky that I was an earth pony because otherwise I don't think I could've rotated the turret at all past that. I lined up and fired and kept firing untill I saw flames on the fighter. It was even harder because the auto turret rotate mechanism made the recoil on it almost non existent.
Carnage s account with part of Stone's.
I fired a 5 second burst of fire into the 190's engine, sending him spiraling to his death below. I lined up on a 109 straight ahead of the Landcaster and fired, again sending it down. The bomber formation began a wide bank to the right, trying to avoid the main fighter waves. Not more that five seconds later I saw it. A lone Stuka dive bomber at exactly 12'o clock level opening fire. I quickly grabbed the intercom and physically screamed at the pilots. ""OH BUCK-INCOMING STUKA CRASH COURSE 12'O CLOCK LEVEL BUCKING EVASIVE MANUVERS!" luckily for all of us lightning and Cohen just barely got the Landcaster into a roll in time to dodge the Stuka. The bomber shuddered as it leveled out from the roll. I didn't have any time to think before a bf 110 came screaming in from 11'o clock high, guns a blazing. I quickly tried to aim my twin 50cal guns to get a lead on the target. But before I could even begin to move the turret, the turret began taking hits from the bf most of which pierced the plexiglass, sending both shrapnel and lead alike into my body. I cried out as I felt sharp pains in my right hind leg, and left shoulder, along with my face and chest area. I fell backwards clutching my shoulder, squirming in pain as I hit the metal.
(Stone's account takes over from here)
I fired a burst from the 20mm single machine gun I had installed the mission before this, sending the 109 into a death dive. I felt strikes against the bomber and heard a scream followed shortly by a loud thud, comming from the nose. I opened the blast door and saw our nose gunner-we called him carnage-clutching his shoulder on the floor of the nose section. The glass of the turret was cracked and shattered in places, and there was blood not just over the turret, but the blood was splattered all over the nose section. I quickly ran over and helped him up, asking him if he was ok. He just tried to walk back to the guns, but fell over and crawled over to the turret, propped himself up on the guns, fired and kept firing. I looked out and saw that after a few seconds of firing Joe finally hit the 110 that was pounding us, setting it ablaze. I then watched him fire at a 109 that was about 15 seconds away from us getting into its firing range, untill he finally let go of the trigger and went limp...it's still the most Damn honorable acts I've ever scene.
(Temp pov) 190'th bomb wing. Landcaster MkVI; Grazer
(Pilot's pov)
"Taking fire!"
I banked the four engined bomber left to avoid a wellington banking left with its port engine alight. I felt the bomber shaking under the combined forces of both the turn, and the 30in cannon shells the 190's were pumping into my Landcaster. The bomber jerked to the right suddenly. "Wha-" I got cut off by the flight engineer poking his head into the cockpit.
"Lieutenant the second starboard engine is alight-" he was cut off as cannon shells from a 190 shattered the canopy glass, while the co pilot cringed in pain as a few rounds found his chest. I re latched my oxygen mask as, the flight engineer started to close the blast door. "Ryu get me a damage report!"
"I'm already on it Slipstream."
"We've lost the ventral gunner, and the left waist gun is jammed."
"Ryu get on the ventral!"
"On it Lieutenant."
Arc; 2 The thousand plane raid (US and canada Against The Luftwaffe)
View Online
Major air battles of WWII with ponies.
Arc; 2 The thousand plane raid (US and canada Against The Luftwaffe)
The thousand plane raid was a combined mega scale sortie between the US and Canadian air forces. Their objective is to bomb targets ranging from u boat pens on the German border, to manufacturing plants deep in the heart of Berlin. The aircrafts at their disposal consisted of. For the US; B-17, B-25, and other heavy and medium bombers. While the Canadian air force had both modified us bombers along with some British twin engined and quad engined bombers. Each air force had one thousand total bombers, with a combined total force of 2500 aircraft, including the escort fighters. The p-47 for the Americans, Bristol beufighters for the Canadians. At this point the Germans are desperate to the point where ramming a 109 into one of the bombers is a legitimate tactic.
the rendezvous point, 10 miles from the coast of north America.
"Soo if it's groove you're looking forrr.!" A voice sang over the radios of the twenty five hundred planes in the air, in perfect harmony with the swing music already playing. "Then you've come to the right place!" "Oh Octavia can't you see, classical is not the type for me!" Vinyl sang out(the family and friends of the ponies in this sortie were allowed to listen in) "Now don't you look the other wayyyy, cause this music's here to stayyaay!" "Now wipe that grin right off your faaaace, Cause it'll all be gone when you step into this place!!" "So put down that cello and go grab the bass, Cause we're swingin' here tonight this ain't no fancy music place! You just gotta let it go, from everything that tells you no!" "Even if this is not your type of show, your type of show!" as the song went into the first instrumental bit, she stopped singing for now. And as the song reached its second bit another voice started to sing out. "Maybe you've learned a thing or two, 'bout how fast these hooves can groove." Lyra sang out from inside her B-17 "Now comeon just take a channce, these beats will put you in a trance." Now vinyl joined in again along with Lyra. "Now these things you just can't forget, it would only bring regret." The two voices sang in perfect harmony with both each other and the song. "But there's one thing you must know, we can't stop this crowd from stompin' on the floor." "Comeon everypony now!" And that they did, all 2500 voices pierced the loud roar of the many engines, in the sky.
"SO PUT DOWN THAT CELLO AND GO GRAB THE BASS, cause were swingin' here tonight this ain't no fancy music place! You just gotta let it go from everything that tells you no, even if this is not your type of show oohh your type of show ! So put down that cello and go grab the bass, Cause were swingin' here tonight this ain't no fancy music place! You just gotta let it go from everything that tells ya no, even if this is not your type of show ooohh!" The other voices died until it was only the dj left. "Ya just gotta let it go from everything that tells ya no, even if this is not your type of show! Yoooourrrr type a showwwww-just gotta let it go!" the moment after the voice faded off, thousands of hooves applauded at once.
"Vinyl, that was wonderful."
"Great job Lyra."
"We got a shitload of German fighters comming in fast, ok lock and load ponies!" "Let's do this shit!"
(Pov B-25; stryker)
"Fire fire fiah!"
"Firing!"
"Taking hits- OH SHI- lost a Wing goin' down."
I looked down at the bombadier manning the nose gun, he had a bullet wound in his left arm but he kept on firing. "How we doin'?!"
He didn't even glance away from the gun as he replied. "Only lost 2 bombers so far, both Canadian Boston III's!" He shouted over the loud rumble of the engines.
"Shit- blizzard!"
"Yeah?!"
"He's diving on us he's diving, he's diving- arah!" I looked behind my seat to see the top gunner get killed by a 109, as the right engine burst into flames.
"Shit shitshitshitshitshit!" Was all that came out as I tried desperately to keep the Mitchell in the air.
Then I saw it a 190 banking right untill he was heading straight for the nose. I instantly bucked open the hatch and yelled get out before I grabbed blizzard and lept out.
I looked back and saw the 190 shear the nose of the bomber clean off..
one jumper....no chute.
(Pov Vinyl, unicorn P-47 Thunderbolt)
I slammed the stick left firing the whole time, the electric blue tracers firing everywhere. I had opted for custom tracer rounds, namely because I could see them better than the Orange ones that came standard. They were so crowded that in mere seconds my eight 50cal guns had knocked out over twenty fighters.
(Pov 91st bomb wing, B-17 Celestial Glory)
"Banking, engine 1 is belching oil!"
The 109 was just pummeling us, there wasn't a panel on the plane that wasn't shot up at least a little.
"Nine o clock level!" I pressed myself against the floor as bullets streaked over my head.
"Wha-oh no oohh no, J-Jeice the turret' s jammed!"
"I'm comming!" I yelled back, as I turned around and made my way to the ball turret.
"Six o clock comming high going low-Mystic!
"Oh Celestia, OH CELESTIA-JEICE GET ME OUT OF HERE!"
"I'm comming I'm comming!" I practically screamed as I scrambled through the waist of the bomber.
"ARAHHH!" I heard a shrill shearing sound as the bomber rocked.
"What happened? Damage report, everypony check in."
"Bombadier"
"Navigator."
"Tail gunner."
"Left and right waist gunners."
"Flight engineer." I said.
"Ball turret?"
I hesitated for a moment before I opened the hatch of the turret and was met with a bloodcurduling scream. There was mystic, still clinging on to the armored panel by the safety harness. But the ball turret was gone...it was just gone, blown clean off.
