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In a few seconds the red light on his sight blinked on something real and solid was in front of him. Then he was scared. When I talked to him, he readily admitted that he'd been scared. He'd met MD 109's, FW 190's and ME 262's over Germany and he'd met MIG-15's over Korea but the large, bright, bluish-white light had scared him he asked the controller if he could break off the intercept.
That gave Stan his chance to get away. He could outrun the Me's once he got them down on his level, where they could not use their diving speed. But the three fighter craft he had first spotted were coming down now. They were dangerous ships. All three of them were FW 190's, and diving on an enemy from above is a job the FW does best.
A flight of Focke-Wulf 190's broke out of a big cloud and roared in on them. "Break for action. Cover specials!" Sim called. The formation of Thunderbolts broke up and the fight was on. As usual the Jerries were not aiming to close with the Yanks. They were willing to pick off a cripple or a plane cut out from the flight but not to make it a real battle.
"Right waist gunner to pilot, sir. 190's at eleven o'clock. They're after the flight ahead." "Rear gunner Roger, sir. Flock of Focke-Wulfs at six o'clock. Coming in on our tail." "I say, old man, don't get itchy fingers. No ammo to waste." Allison's voice was calm and unruffled. O'Malley's voice broke in over Stan's headset. "Hey, sure an' we ought to go down an' bust that up."
The Jerries don't get near London any more, and I heard a rumor that the Forts and Libs are able to shoot down ten fighters for every one the Thunderbolts get." O'Malley snorted. "Bombers shoot down Me 109's and FW 190's! 'Tis jest propaganda put out by the brass hats to fool the Germans. I'll have to see it done, me b'y." "From what I hear we'll probably have a reserved seat for the show.
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