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A short story about an escort fighter pilot in WW2, as he embarks on this mission he will face many challenges. If he survives remains to be seen.
[1,158 words]
Joseph Xavier Ramirez
A young enthutiastic author
[September 2006]
Joseph Xavier Ramirez



*Flips RAM AIR*

*Primes Engine*

*Starts Engine*

As my P-51 shudders as it starts, I myself start thinking about my family and friends. Im about to embark on a very dangerous mission. I'm to escort a bomber flight into the heart of Germany, Berlin. As I take off I feel the lighter than air feeling of flying, its my most treasured of moments every time I soar towards a mission.

Within 30 minutes we start crossing the English Channel. My senses heighten as we get closer to enemy lines, I can hear the rattle of the engines, the smell of the burning oil and fuel, I can hear my fellow CoPilot praying to himself. As we start to cross into Belgium the tension is at its highest. *Cshh* "Keep your eyes out for enemy fighters" said the flight leader. Just then, as if on cue 3 Fockewulfs 190s scream out of the clouds into the bomber formation. I release my external fuel tank and dive in to intercept. One german pilot releases a barrage of cannon fire at the lead bomber, bullets start to hit the 1st engine of the B-17 and I can see black smoke starting to come out of the holes. I move in behind the Fockewulf and squeeze the trigger 25 feet behind him. I see the tracer bullets start to make contact with the enemy hull and soon the planes port wing is torn off and it starts spinning erratically. Flames start to erupt from the engine and 12 seconds later it explodes into a massive fireball. The german does not manage to bail out.

*Cshh* "Hes on me Jim! I can't get him off of me!" said my wingman William Lemens

"Im coming just hold on!"

I attempt a U-Turn towards my wingman. I see him jump out of the clouds with one fockewulf on him.

"Break left Billy!"

As my wingman made a sharp left turn I opened on the fockewulf on him. My bullets strike the cockpit and the german plane makes a gentle slope towards Belgium below.

*WHIIIIZ* *Sonic Crack* *Clunks and Ricochets*

Bullets start flying all around me, I cant get out of it! My engine starts sputtering and throwing up black smoke. I cant see out of my cockpit! Then my plane starts spinning uncontrollably. I try to straighten it out but it seems Im stuck on a flat stall. I look at my altimeter as I try to unstrap myself from the plane.

I unbuckle my lower body straps

I begin working on my torso straps

The cockpit release handle is jammed

I begin to unstrap my pistol and shoot upwards

Panic Starts to set in

I bail out and open my parachute

Im floating in the air, my parachute flapping. Im moving too fast! If I break my legs now I have no chance
 of making it back to France. I stare up and I see the bomber formation, just then a bomber bursts into a massive fireball.
'I couldnt protect them.' I thought to myself.


I hit a tree branch and another and another, my parachute becomes entangled. I use my knife to cut the straps, and I fall towards the heavy underbrush below. My arm pops as I hit the forest floor. I crawl trough the brush barely able to stand up. I need to find shelter and fast before the Germans find me.

 It takes me 3 hours of crawling to the west when i find an old farmhouse. I start to stand up and limp towards the farm house, inside I can hear voices. Its french! I must have made it accross the French/Belgian border. If I go inside the house they might give me up so I decide to hide in their barn instead.

I sleep for 2 hours when I start hearing their boots.

Their boots crunched on the grass each time they took a step, I check my pistol. I have 5 rounds and 2 extra magazines.

*Cchh* *Cchh*

I take a glance out of the barn, theres 2 of them they kick down the farmhouse door and start questioning the people inside.
I have to take them out, If they find any evidence that I was here they will kill the people inside. I wait for them behind the barn door, I hear their footsteps getting closer and closer. Just then a rifle pokes out of the doorway, they both move inside the barn cautiously.

I aim at one and slowly squeeze the trigger.

*Bang* as one drops I aim at the other *Bang*

I quickly scramble out of the barn and run towards the farmhouse, I frantically start yelling at the people inside to get out. One of them understands me and tells the others what they must do. As they start scrambling towards their rooms to collect their belongings the english speaking one tells me that they have 2 cars. They will take one and head towards Paris. I decide to take the other one to Paris too but I will have to wait an hour for the farmers to go to make it seem that they arent aiding me.

As I watch the farmers leave I search around for supplies I can take incase I have to abandon the vehicle. As I find a pitcher of fresh water I hear the tracks of a halftrack. I curse and head towards the car hoping that the halftracks mounted machine gun wont open fire on time. I start the car and head towards the west on the road. Im driving like a maniac as the enemy machine gun opens fire.


Once again bullets are flying all around me, one hits the windshield and another the rear view mirror. I try to drive as fast as this old junker will go. After 20 seconds no more bullets hit my car. Im starting to calmly drive towards Paris, I pass a sign that states that Im 5 KM away. Just then, I see a shadow. A massive turret points towards me, my eyes go wide as I jump out of the car. In midair the tanks main cannon fires and the tank shell flies towards my car.


My body goes limp, I feel a sharp sensation all over me. I lay face up on the mud, I stare at the sky and see the bomber squadron Im supposed to escort flying towards england, minus 1. I try to move my toes, I can feel them. I move my fingers, I feel them too, but I also feel massive pain, I stare at my hand. My fingers are black and one is missing. I keep staring at the sky and pass out.

6 days later I wake up in England. Im in a hospital with a purple heart medal laying beside my pillow. Attached to that medal, theres a telegram. Im going home. The war is finally over for me.



"Very good story. with a nice discriptive plot.... and nicely filled with history. veyr dramatic but a touching ending!" -- rayza ramirez.
"I liked the plot, and the incorporation of real-life and historical elements, and that you distinguished between a magazine and a clip. It felt rushed in some posts and the grammar in the same area's is lacking, but all around a good, engaging story." -- Matt.


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© 2006 Joseph Xavier Ramirez
September 2006

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