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the last fight-1 hellhound v the 352cd. Screenies as promised


Enforcer57

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Or how I died a Klingon death. As promised, here is a presentation of our last fight with the 352, mainly from my perspective. Let it not be said that the 352 aren't worthy opponents-their unit cohesion and planning are a bit evident, and as I found out repeatedly here, so is their F-ing gunnery.

Here the fight has already started to go sour, as we were caught low and lost the initiative pretty quickly, despite some early victories. The sky is full of tracers and dogfighting planes.

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Here Pooka bails, as some of our best aces are lost early in the fight.

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But things aren't all bad, as Bucky is determined to score on a 352 human opponent....so determined that he ignores everything else in a textbook example of target fixation, as he stated in the private forum. What he didn't realize is that his enemy is already dead, but who has time to read all that crap iin the text window.

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Bucky doesn't see the evil Persecutor exploiting his tunnel vision.

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And he pays the price as Persecutor avenges his comrade.

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And my trusty wingy, who I became separated from since I dove for the deck upon being bounced, is sandwiched between two of these guys, including an AI Borg drone.

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In the meantime, I had made my second escape by using my altitude and racing away at mach one from numerous tormentors, this time while flying CAP for BG, the only friendly I could find that wasn't in trouble.....for now. Note the rds hitting the ground as my frustrated pursuer can't keep up with my flying brick.

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BG helped get one off me, but was bounced by a gaggle of Spits who were particularly merciless.

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I heard his plight while I was extending out to regain altitude, and it would have been tactically wise for me to keep going, but I didn't want these vultures feeding on my CO. So I did the worse thing you can do in a jug and changed course losing my energy......but my honor was intact, like a true Klingon. I got there just in time to see him get fragged and flew right into a swarm of hostiles.

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I found myself pounced upon by about a million of 'em.....felt like a character out of "The Birds". I was in a situation that jugs were

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the sky was full of these guys, so I fired every time I saw one in front of me....which was alot, since they were every F-ing where. My bird had taken some pretty serious hits, and one of my guns was jammed.

At this point, the theme to "The Empire Strikes Back" should be playing in the background.

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My cockpit was shattered, and I was at 110% on full pitch. My engine was boiling, but I had nothing to lose, so I kept it there. I was throwing .50 cal all over the place. Man i was getting swamped.

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They went into a feeding frenzy, getting in each other's way. I couldn't get an angle on this guy, but he flew his pal's fire. I saw alot of pieces when I was firing, but I think most of them were mine.

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I kept trying to get altitude, but kept having to lose it to get away from this mob.

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I kept taking hits from 20mm, usually more than one. Please note that 47s can't outclimb Spits, but I had to get some air under me. I kept wondering when I'd go down, as I'm sure my tormentors were also wondering.

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I lost my ailerons, so I kicked rudder and flipped elevators all over the place, but wound up on my back most of time with Spits trying to get ahead of me for an angle. I can't help but wonder what the radio traffic was on their side, and If any 352 dudes are reading this, I'd love to know. Must've been hilarious, as I was laughing my ass off at the damage and the odds.

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I was bleeding all over the cockpit, my instruments were shattered, and I was inverted, heading for the ground. I announced my demise, but sudenly rolled upright and pulled up, only to flip over repeatedly and head for the ground, pulling out at the last second.

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I know I couldn't have been alone in prematurely assuming my end so many times. I still don't know how I managed to keep from kissing the ground a dozen times as it sounded like rain on a tin roof from all the hits I was taking.

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I kept hoping that maybe, just maaaybeeeee, I could fake my own death and con them into leaving me alone.......hey, if it worked for Elvis, it could work for me. Right? Right?

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But I kept coming back, like a masochistic chick who keeps coming back to her boyfriend who likes hitting her in the head with bottles, I kinda got into it. Yeah, it got good to me. Plus there was the fact that the more that chased me, the fewer there were to chase the few survivors down. I knew this had to be freaking the enemy out big time, as the growing number of would be assassins showed.

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THis musta really pissed em all off, because they used that "request assistance" thingy in command bar. In one frame I counted seven of them on me. God knows how many there were before it was over.

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I had plenty of gas and ammo, so I kept slinging it at them. I wasn't the only one wondering when this was gonna end.

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They kept running out of cannon rds and began a relay of death it seemed. It was getting hard to dodge all that 20mm. The 303 I could handle, but my machine could only take so much high velocity HE.

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The Spit commander, Cool, apparently decided it was time to stop asking boys to do a man's job. So he moved in, with his mags full of 20mm.

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Finally my heroic bird could take no more....a burst of 20 took my fuselage apart and killed me. Kinda hard to stay in the fight at this point. Cool put an end to my rampage.

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So I dug my own hole, but like a case of herpes, I will be back, so our friends in the 352cd need to know that there will be another day.....count on it. But damn if it wasn't fun getting my ass shot off.

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Those guys are pretty well organized, and I think they must've been practicing while we were bar hopping. So I salute our honorable (though somewhat intense) opponents of the 352cd. and if you guys will wait just a moment, I'll post my offering for their victory. WAIT FOR IT.......

OK, Since they crushed their enemies, drove them before them, they may now enjoy the lamentation of their women........or so says Conan The Barbarian. So even though this one isn't technically "mine", she consented to fill the bill, with an appropriate homage to the CW Spit. So again I salute you members of the 352cd, but keep in mind Patton's warning at the end of his movie......"all glory is fleeting." We shall meet again. But in the meantime, enjoy your victory.

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Who put that damn plane in the way!?!?!?!?!?!

Frakin' shoulder shooters are always getting in the way of the perfect shot.............

Seriously though M8, those 352nd Spitty's looked awesome swarming all around you.

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heh heh.....I'm laughing so blasted hard ive got tears running down my face. I have to give much of credit to Mr. Kartiveli's design.

I think somebody has got to start recording the teamspeak dialogue for us. There are times when it's just too priceless to miss. This is only a fraction of hte shots i took. I highly recomend dnloading the track and watching it for its pure comedic value. I wish we could have a version with the radio traffic.

I look forward to flying with/against you guys some more......you should show up in some of the less formal scenarios.

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