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 Want to fly a high-flying, death-dealing war machine? Want to take to the skies with the Mighty Eighth? Well then do I have the game for you!  "B-17: Queen of the Skies" was originally a boardgame. Then, it got put on VASSAL and someone made an emulator for it. The game covers the Allied strategic bombing campaign from August 1942 to May 1945. The game itself is pretty simple. You move to each target through zones. At each zone, dice are rolled and tables are consulted. This determines weather and flak. It also determines the number, type, and location of German fighters. Will it be FW-190s from 12 o’clock high or BF-110s from 6 o’clock level? We’ll see! You can find a good explanation of the rules in c355n4’s excellent LP of this game. You will be the crew of a B-17 bomber, trying to fly 25 missions and be rotated home. We’ll be starting in November 1942 and flying as long as we have goons, planes, and a war to fight.  We will be flying with the 427th Bombardment Squadron of the 303rd Bombardment Group (Heavy), the “Hell’s Angels.” In real life, both formations had quite the history. Early in the war, the 427th was shot up at Pearl Harbor. In fact, radar operators mistook the incoming Japanese attack planes for the schedule approach of the B-17s! Transferred to the ETO, it flew B-17s until the end of the war. Meanwhile the 303rd BG had quite the record of its own. One of its B-17s, also called Hell’s Angels, was the first 8th Air Force B-17 to fly 25 missions, beating the more famous Memphis Belle by six days. One lucky B-17, the Knock-out Dropper did even better and was the first aircraft in Eighth Air Force to complete 50, and later, 75 missions. The group would ultimately fly over 300 combat missions, more than any other B-17 group of the war. We’ll see if we can match up to the record. To keep things historical, we’ll be flying missions on the same days and against the same targets as the real 303rd BG. We also won’t have reliable fighter escort for every mission early in the war, at least not until the long-legged P-51D Mustangs can be our Little Friends and cover us all the way to Berlin.  I’ve made a few additions of my own to the rules. Some special rules: Rule 1: Serious Wounds If you get a Serious Wound on a mission, the game may force you to be invalided home. But you may recover from your wounds, if you do, you have two options. If you get hit, survive the mission, and recover, I will ask you which one you want to pick. A) Return home and train new aircrews. You’ll survive the war, but you’ll miss out on the chance to win medals and keep hitting the Nazis where it hurts. B) Get back in the fight, although you’ll miss the next two missions while you recover from wounds. Rule 2: Aborting and Descending Pilots and Co-pilots, things will go wrong in flight. Engines will get hit, cockpit heating will go out, oxygen will fail and radios will break. When this happens, the game will ask if you want to abort the mission and/or descend to a lower altitude. There are risks and rewards to this. If you abort the mission, you will not get credit for the mission. Abort too often and you’ll get court-martialed and sentenced to hard labor. But if you don’t abort when, say, your heating fails -- your crew could get frostbite and lose fingers. If you choose to descend after your oxygen or some other vital system gets hit – you’ll be a straggler. In the warmer air, your crew won’t get frostbite. And now out of the tight box formation, you can try to evade enemy fighters. But you’re more likely to attract attention from the Luftwaffe. Pilots, here is what I need to know from you. Are you: Fearless – Never abort! Never descend! Brave – Abort when major systems fail, push on otherwise. Cautious – You want to get home and you realize that means you have to complete missions. But you tend to err on the side of caution when things break… Cowardly – That screw looks a little out of place, we must abort!!! If we can’t abort, the box formation is the safest place to stay… Something else – Well, you tell me. Rule 3: Rank Pilots, you have the choice of choosing your rank. You can be a lowly First Lieutenant all the way up to a lofty Colonel. Rank has its privileges, of course. You’ll be more likely to get medals. You’re be the first in line to get a better variant of bomber. Pretty nurses will take a second look at you. Officer’s club booze is pretty good. But it also has its drawbacks. Higher ranking officers have to lead by example, so you’ll be flying the lead ship more often. That makes you a juicy target… Pilots, tell me. Are you a: Ordinary Pilot: 1St Lieutenant, Captain Squadron Leader: Major or Lieutenant Colonel Group Leader: Colonel Rule 4: Promotions The more missions you fly and the better you do, you’ll be eligible for promotions. I’ve homebrewed a table that will decide if you get promotions. If you get bombs on target and score kills, it will help your chances. If you abort a lot and miss targets, the promotion board won’t look too kindly on that. Everyone on the crew has the chance to pin on a higher rank. Rule 5: Medals The game has a system for giving out medals, but it’s rather stingy. So I’m going to be adding on to it. I’ve homebrewed yet another table for medals, but I’ll also be giving out awards if it fits the narrative. If a crewman manages to crash-land his burning airplane in Berlin, escape capture and paddle his way home in a rubber dinghy, he’s drat well getting an award. Here are the medals you can earn:
Distinguished Service Cross Silver Star Distinguished Flying Cross Bronze Star with “V” Device for Valor Air Medal Rule 6: New Aircraft New variants of bombers are being cranked out at a rapid rate. The B-17E will be replaced by the B-17F and so on. New bombers have more guns and fly higher and faster. Top-performing units, decorated crews, and senior officers will be the first to get a crack at the new bombers. When new bombers like the B-17G historically appear, I’ll roll on a homebrew table to see if you’re offered the chance to fly the upgraded bomber. The pilots can choose to take it or leave it.  It wouldn’t be a proper LP if goons couldn’t win death or glory. Sign up in the spreadsheet HERE for a slot on our first two B-17E bombers. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1whBA0BdCHk7BcCu4f15QRzxSuxNhZ6vhAZ_E_Exn6A4/edit#gid=0  Tell me if you want to be a: Pilot or Co-Pilot: Flies the plane. Make sure to tell me you rank (1LT, CPT, etc.) and personality (i.e. cautious, etc.) Navigator: Gets the B-17 to the target…or gets the crew lost. Bombardier: Over the target, he uses the top-secret Norden bombsight to literally fly the plane and drop the bombs. Engineer: Fixes the plane if things break in-flight, also doubles as the Dorsal Turret gunner Radio Operator: Radios reports to home base and other B-17s. On the B-17E and B-17F, he also has a .50 cal he shoots through his hatch. Gunner: There are four gunners on a B-17 – the ball turret gunner, tail gunner, and two waist gunners. If you don’t make it aboard, don’t worry! Add your name to the reserve list. You’ll be If any creative goons want to make come up with names and nose art for our bomber, post it in the thread!  Update #1 - B-17E "The Goon" crew and 427th Bombardment Squadron History, Part 1 Update #2 - B-17E "The Goon" Mission 1 - St. Nazaire U-Boat Pens; November 17th, 1942 Update #3 - B-17F "The Goon Bird" Plane and Crew Introduction, Medal Ceremony, Welcome to Stalag Luft I; January 1st, 1943 Update #4 - B-17F "The Goon Bird" Mission 1: Lille Locomotive Works; January 13th, 1943 Update #4.1 - The Goon Escape preparations, Stalag Luft I; January 13th, 1943 Update #5 - The Goon Escape, Stalag Luft I; January, 1943 Update #6 - B-17F "The Goon Bird" Mission 2: Lorient Docks; January 23rd, 1943 Update #7 - B-17F "Goon With the Wind" Plane and Crew Introduction, January 1943 Update #8 - B-17F "Goon With the Wind" Mission 1: Wilhelmshaven, January 27th, 1943 Update #9 - B-17F "Goon With the Wind" Mission 2, Part 1: Hamm, February 4th, 1943 Update #10 - B-17F "Goon With the Wind" Mission 2, Part 2: Hamm, February 4th, 1943 Update #11 - The Goon Escape II preparations, Stalag Luft I; 10 February 1943 Update #12 - B17F "Goon With the Wind" Mission 3 (aborted) and Mission 3 (flown): St. Nazaire; 14 February 1943 and 16 February 1943 Update #13 - B17F "Goon of the Month" Plane and Crew Introduction, March 1943 Update #14 - B17F "Goon of the Month" Mission 1 Debrief, Part 1: Rotterdam; 4 March 1943 Update #15 - B17F "Goon of the Month" Mission 1 Debrief, Part 2: Rotterdam; 4 March 1943  Current Bombers: Bomber #4: B-17F Goon of the Month - 1 Mission Pilot: Major Major Major (Adventure Pigeon), 1 Mission Co-Pilot: 1st Lt. Bjorn B. Bjornsson (Boksi), 1 Mission Bombardier: Major Declan Sullivan (Kilonum), 0 Missions Navigator: Lt. Nate "Hedge" Hogg (ninjahedgehog), 1 Mission Engineer: MSgt Jay Gatz (the JJ) 6 Missions; Air Medal (Mission 1 for evasion), Bronze Star (on Mission 5 for evasion) Radio Operator: Staff Sergeant Byron Slothrop (slothrop), 1 Mission Ball Turret: Sergeant Terra Storm (Terror storm), 1 Mission Left Waist: Cpl Simon Colt (Paingod556), 3 Missions; Bronze Star (on Mission 5 for evasion) Right Waist: Sergeant Pete Theismann (pthighs), 1 Mission Tail Gunner: Harold B. Asterd (Grizzwold), 1 Mission Lost Bombers and Crew: Bomber #1: B-17E The Goon - 1 Mission - lost November 17, 1942 to fighters over St. Nazaire on its 1st mission Pilot: Maj. Reginald Edsel Albarrow (Realbarrow), POW (escaped, evaded) Co-Pilot: 1st Lt. Wedgekree (Wedgekree), POW (escaped, evaded) Navigator: 2nd Lt. Roeben (Roeben), POW (escaped, recaptured) Radio Operator: S/Sgt David Edward Ayre (Paingod556), KIA Ball Turret Gunner: Sgt Randall Jarrell (Davin Valkri), POW (repatriated) Right Waist Gunner: Sgt. Jay Ramhorn (painedforever), POW (escaped, recaptured) Bomber #2: B-17F The Goon Bird - 2 Missions - lost January 13th, 1943 to fighters over Lorient on its 2nd mission Pilot: Major Apple (loving Love Fiona Apple), 2 Missions; POW Bombardier: 1st Lt. Pinch O'Ginger (pinchofginger), 2 Missions; Bronze Star; KIA Navigator: Captain Officer (Dance Officer), 2 Missions; POW Radio Operator: Sgt. Henry Snowden (PenguinSalsa), 2 Missions; POW Left Waist Gunner: MSgt Mike Crotch (Yooper), 3 Missions; Air Medal; POW Right Waist Gunner: Sergeant Gord Brownie (Ilmucche), 2 Missions; POW Tail Gunner: SSgt Beau Geste (bibliosabreur), 3 Missions; Air Medal; POW Bomber #3: B-17F Goon With the Wind - 3 Missions - lost 16 February 1943 to fighters over St. Nazaire on its 2nd mission Pilot: Colonel Z Z the IVth, 3 Missions Co-Pilot: 1st Lt. R.A. Rex (RA Rx), 4 Missions Bombardier: 1st Lt. Eric Ericcson (Mukaikubo) 3 Missions Navigator: Lt. Col Johnson (Shoeless), 2 Missions Radio Operator: Jimmy "President" Polk ()El Spamo 1 Mission Ball Turret: TSgt Grot Bunting (Clamps McGraw), 4 Missions Right Waist: Tail Gunner: Sgt. Cathode Raymond (Cathode Raymond) 3 Missions Bomber #3: B-17F Goon With The Wind Navigator: Lieutenant (Junior Grade) R.U. Lüst (Jimmy4400nav), 1 Mission; KIA Jan 27th over Wilhemshaven on his 1st mission Right Waist: Sgt. Andrew A. Andersson (Triple A) 2 Missions; KIA Feb 4th at Osnabruck on his 2nd mission Radio Operator: Sgt. Ash Baker (Yvonmukluk) 1 Mission; WIA Feb 4th at Osnabruck on his 2nd mission - invalided home Bomber #4: B-17F Goon of the Month Bombardier: 1st LT Billy King (Sad King Billy), 1 Mission; KIA Mar 4th over Rotterdam on his 1st mission Bacarruda fucked around with this message at 09:10 on Jun 2, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 07:00
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  The game follows this basic flowchart, which I have shamelessly stolen from the internet. The rule book is still copyright by Avalon Hill, so I won’t be posting it. Thankfully the basic rules are pretty simple. There’s lots of tables and everything is settled by rolling 2d6. Here’s how the game is supposed to be played (along with the tweaks I’ve made to improve the narrative and be truer to history). Step One: Roll for Target City. We’re going to be skipping this step and just going with the 303rd’s historical missions. The first missions are simpler. As the war goes on, things get harder… Each target is in a given zone. Early in the war, our fighter cover will only escort us up to Zone 4. As time goes on, we’ll get fighter cover deeper and deeper into Occupied Europe.  Step Two: Roll for formation position. Our squadron can be in the High, Middle, or Low Squadron. Whenever possible, I’ll try to use the 457th Bomb Squadron’s actual placement. Then we roll for the Lead, Middle or Tail position in the formation. Because of the houserules, higher-ranking officers have a much higher chance of chance of being the vulnerable lead position. Step Three: Move into a zone. Each target is a certain number of zones away from our home base. Step Four: Once in a zone, roll for friendly Fighter Cover (only in Zones 2-4, with fighter escort going deeper later in the war), then roll for attacking waves of enemy fighters. Enemy fighters can approach us from 1 to 12 o’clock and get hit us from low, level, or high. If we have escorts, then we roll for friendly escort success in driving off enemy fighters (again, only in zones 2-4). We do this every time we enter a new zone. Step Five: Once in the zone, roll for defensive fire. See if gunners can score hits on the attackers. Step Six: Roll for enemy fire. If they hit, calculate damage. This can be fatal and blow up the plane. It can Lightly Wound, Seriously Wound, or Kill crew members. Or it can cause damage that forces us to drop out of formation. If it’s serious, we may be given the chance to abort and head home. Step Seven: Over the target, we roll for flak. If we get hit, we calculate the damage. We also calculate the percentage of bombs that hit the target. Steps Eight: We return home, calculating enemy fighters, damage, and the rest of things with each new zone we enter. Steps Nine: Roll to land at base. If we’re badly damaged, we might crash and die. Step Ten: Roll to calculate fate of wounded airmen. Wounded airmen may return to duty, they may be invalided home. Or they may die.
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Jan 19, 2018 07:00
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[Reserved]
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Jan 19, 2018 07:00
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Count me in! Looking to be ordinary pilot (1st Leftenant), Brave. I shall be the pilot of the bomber Expendable Lads. wedgekree fucked around with this message at 07:42 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 07:19
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A Bac LP? Sign me up! Major Reginald Edsel Albarrow, USAAF, at your service. Bravery and fine Piloting will get us through this war, boys! Realbarrow fucked around with this message at 16:45 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 07:26
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Sign me up! As a Cautious Pilot of Major Rank Let's get home alive.
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Jan 19, 2018 07:41
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Signed up as Beau Geste, tail-end Charlie to our bomber. I look forward to getting mulched by 20mm pursuit.
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Jan 19, 2018 07:49
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Folks, please make sure you sign up in-thread and in the spreadsheet. That way I can know who gets what spot. If your dream position gets taken, you can jump into the Reserve List. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1whBA0BdCHk7BcCu4f15QRzxSuxNhZ6vhAZ_E_Exn6A4/edit loving love Fiona Apple posted:Sign me up! As a Cautious Pilot of Major Rank You just got beat out by Wedgekree and Realbarrow, would you (and whoever signed up as "Cpt Dick Ford") like to be pilots of our second bird? Once I get the hang of running our primary airplane, I'll get a second plane in the air and fly missions. Bacarruda fucked around with this message at 08:07 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 07:57
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Sign me up; Pinch O'Ginger, red-headed, red-blooded bombardier with a drinking problem reporting for duty.
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Jan 19, 2018 08:01
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I'm mainly here to figure out if those dang nazi's aren't flying propellorless space alien UFO's.
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Jan 19, 2018 08:57
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Bacarruda posted:Folks, please make sure you sign up in-thread and in the spreadsheet. That way I can know who gets what spot. That's fine
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Jan 19, 2018 10:55
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Ooooh! I want to give it a roll! I'm signed up, and everything! Just, y'know, wherever. I just wanna get home, LT. Just get me home.
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Jan 19, 2018 11:24
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I'll sign up for navigator on the second bomber!
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Jan 19, 2018 12:40
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Put my name down as Lt. Eric Ericsson, the not-so-noble descendant of vikings, for bombardier on plane #2!
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Jan 19, 2018 12:55
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Almost there, just need a Radio Operator for Bomber #1! And we're well on our way to getting a crew for Bomber #2. We just need a name and nose art for our planes. Suggestions? My current favorite 
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Jan 19, 2018 14:11
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I'd like to be a superstitious ball gunner on the second bomber please as TSgt Grot Bunting, but stuck myself in reserve too plane name: A Murder Of Huns A CRAB IRL fucked around with this message at 14:17 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 14:13
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Let's call her the Lazy Susan. 'cause she'll come right around. Get it?
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Jan 19, 2018 14:19
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The first one has to be called "The Goon" for sure. BTW, aren't the navigators also the radioperson in the early models?
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Jan 19, 2018 15:16
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Roeben posted:The first one has to be called "The Goon" for sure.  The navigator is in the nose. The radio operator is in the middle of the plane. On our B-17E, he's armed with a .50 cal he can fire through the roof of this.
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Jan 19, 2018 15:35
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Sees title Oh dear. Time for everyone to die. I assume we need crew? I'm signing up as RA Rx, a fearless co-pilot of Lieutenant rank. Here's to my boss taking a slug to the brainpan and getting me promoted, so I can get the rest of the crew killed! RA Rx fucked around with this message at 19:33 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 16:50
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Realbarrow posted:A Bac LP? Sign me up! Updating you guys that I have demoted myself to Major. This way we maybe AREN'T always lead ship and can experience more of the game! Also so I can earn a promotion too.
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Jan 19, 2018 16:51
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Jumping into the radio seat with D.Ed. Ayre. I'm sure this will end well. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=djIvmaYI9LQ&t=102s Every time this scene is mentioned in memoirs or interviews I've read, the bomber crews would scoff- nobody would jam the radios doing that, they'd be too busy trying to bail. EDIT- Also, I am so glad to see another one of these pop up. Got a soft spot for QotS.
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Jan 19, 2018 17:04
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Heck yeah this looks awesome! Sign me up at LTJG Randolph Ulysses Lüst, thanks to a paper work snafu instead of being with the rest of his Navy boys in an Avenger over the Pacific, he's now stuck on a bomber in Europe. Jimmy4400nav fucked around with this message at 19:46 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 17:11
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Sign me up as Clarence Dobson, Engineer. I put my name on the reserve list since the 2nd bomber sheet was still completely empty and the reserve list did have names on it. Fresh out of school, Clarence is eager to put his skills to work for his country and do his bit in Europe's time of need. Although he really has no idea what he signed up for.  Plane name: Props Feathered Nose art: Pin up lady hiding behind an ostrich feather fan or something similar EDIT: Will nicknames be given to crewmembers who do something extraordinary? Or can we just come up with our own suggestion Pea fucked around with this message at 19:39 on Jan 19, 2018 |
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Jan 19, 2018 19:36
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I'll be Major Major Major, a cautious Major. Plane name: Killing Time
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Jan 19, 2018 23:34
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 Well that went quickly! Let's meet the crew of "The Goon!" Pilot: Major Reginald Edsel Albarrow (realbarrow), one of the most senior officers in the 303rd Bombardment Group (H). A grizzled veteran of the pre-war Army Air Corps, he has a reputation for being quite brave. Thanks to his rank and his attitude, our B-17 is going to be flying lead many missions. Co-Pilot: First Lieutenant Wedgekree, is still wet behind the ears, but he's one of the sharper new pilots in the squadron. Bombardier: Second Lieutenant Pinch O'Ginger (pinchofginger), with a love of the liquor he was born. To help him on his way, he has a drop of the craythur every morn...and before each mission. Navigator: Second Lieutenant Roeben...wait, was that a foo fighter? drat Nazis are at it again! Engineer: Technical Sergeant Jay Gatz (the JJ) is one of the senior enlisted men in the crew. He works the dorsal turret and fixes anything that busts in flight. Just don't expect him to climb out on the wing to put out a fire. Radio Operator: Sergeant D.Ed. Ayre (Paingod556) might not actually be a doctor of education. But he's the best drat radio operator in the group. Ball Turret: Sergeant Randall Jarrell (Davin Valkri) squeezes into the ball turret and covers our vulnerable underbelly each mission. Please don't show him any hoses before the mission starts, it makes him edgy. Left Waist: Technical Sergeant Mike Crotch (Yooper) raised some eyebrows when he walked into the USAAF recruiting office and signed up. Still, he's a "fabulous" gunner, assuming you're willing to take his word for it. Right Waist: Sergeant Jay Ramhorn (painedforever) is on the other side of the waist. He's a bit more cautious than his fellow gunner. Maybe that's why he's managed to get his hands on an extra flak jacket. Tail Gunner: Sergeant Beau Geste (bibliosabeur) is the first person to shape a French Foreign Legion kepi into a 50-mission crush. All by himself in the rear of the plane, he has plenty of room for his flying wine cellar. -- Let's learn a little about our immediate unit, the 427th Bombardment Squadron,  We started our war off headed for paradise. In December 1941, we were the 38th Reconnaissance Squadron. Outfitted with the latest B-17Cs, we headed off to Clark Field in the Philippines. The ground crews were crammed into transport, but the lucky aircrew got to make a stopover in Hawaii. Flyboys get all the luck... On the morning of December 7th, our B-17s were about to land at Hickam Field, when they got jumped a swarm of Zeroes. In a matter of minutes, almost all of our unarmed, unsuspecting Flying Fortresses went down in flames. We weren't going to the Philippines. Although that might have been a blessing in disguise. If we'd flown out a day earlier, we would have ended up in the Death March.  Our few remaining aircraft flew sea patrols from Hawaii (and later California), looking for the Japanese invasion that never came. Once the panic subsided and it became obvious that the Kido Butai wasn't going to sail into San Francisco Bay, we got a new job. Linking up with the 303rd Bombardment Group at Gowen Field in Idaho, we began receiving new planes and training up new crews. Every week, fresh faces and shiny new airplanes arrived from all over the country. Eventually, the Army Air Forces realized that it'd didn't make much sense to call us a "reconnaissance squadron." When the time came, the Flying Fortress was better for dropping bombs, not snapping pictures. So we became the 427th Bombardment Squadron and we put aside any thoughts of fighting a war in the not-so-Pacific. For the brass hats in the Army Air Forces, the war in Europe was the chance to prove all their theories about strategic bombing. "The bomber will always get through," they said. In the B-17, they thought they had a war-winning weapon. We could carry two tons of bombs over 8,000 miles into enemy territory. Once we got over the target, our best bombardiers boasted they could "drop a bomb in a pickle barrel from 30,000 feet." If any German fighters dared interfere, we figured a dozen .50 caliber machine guns would see them off. It didn't come as much of a surprise to us when the 303rd Bombardment Group got its orders to head for England. In November 1942, we'd fly our first missions over Occupied Europe. -- In other news, I've got the crew all ready and the bomber set up. Tune in next time to see if we find the target, it we get any hits and if we get home alive... Bacarruda fucked around with this message at 02:39 on Jan 21, 2018 |
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Jan 20, 2018 10:37
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Oh sweet! Look at who's ready and willing to come home in one piece! That's not jinxing things at all, is it?
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Jan 20, 2018 14:04
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I'm not a doctor. I just play one on the radio 
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Jan 20, 2018 14:08
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Signed up as Henry Snowden, hopelessly optimistic future radio operator. (There is no radio operator slot in the second bomber or the reserves list, is that intentional? I'll sign up as an engineer in that case.)
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Jan 20, 2018 15:36
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Signed up as a waist gunner since I assume tail gunner will be a popular position.
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Jan 20, 2018 17:13
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Ah, that sweet, endearing pre-war naivete about the effectiveness of multiengine bombers against ships on the move. It turns out that dropping a string of explosives from four to five miles up on a target that's moving about a half-mile every minute is, um, optimistic. Eventually the USAAF would learn how to do it. But that will be a story for the Mitchells and their guns (all of them), not us.
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Jan 20, 2018 20:11
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If I'm pretty sharp does that mean bfeore each mission I have my head jammed into a giant pencil sharpener or is that just what the ground crew wants me to think?
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Jan 21, 2018 06:22
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 Gatz was dreaming about Betty Grable and Betty Grable's Legs when a hand on his shoulder rudely shook him awake. He rolled over, bleary-eyed and saw an apologetic-looking private shaking him awake. "Sorry, Sarge. But, it's time." "What time is it?" Gatz hissed. Going from Betty Grable to Private Hoolihan was the kind of cruel surprise the universe seemed to reserve for him. "3AM, Sarge." Gatz swore and rolled out of bed, grabbing a towel and headed for the showers. Up and down the Quonset hut, grumbling enlisted men started their own morning rituals. Across from Gatz, Geste already had his cravat and his drat kepi on, seemingly oblivious to the Group Commander's threat to "skin him alive" for wearing "that drat frog-eater hat." A few bunks down, Crotch was studying himself in his hand mirror, absorbed in the task of putting every wayward hair back in place. Ramhorn was still blinking himself awake, absent-mindedly rubbing the St. Christopher medal he wore. He wasn't especially Catholic, but he figured you could use all the help you could get in this line of work. Ayre and Jarrell tossed their bomber jackets on and headed for the mess hall in search of coffee and eggs. A few huts over, the officers went through a similar routine. Although the lucky bastards got their coffee hand-delivered by a smiling orderly. Sipping his coffee from a toby mug, Major Albarrow remembered that rank did have its privileges. It almost made up for being woken up from Lana Turner... Breakfast was better than usual. Real eggs, none of that mouth-clogging powdered stuff. All the bacon you could eat. Sausages galore. Mountains of pancakes. Piping hot coffee with plenty of cream and sugar. Wide-eyed, the rookie crew of "The Goon" dug in hungrily. The more experienced crews only nibbled at their meal. They knew the rumors by now. Better food meant a tougher mission. Guess the brass hats thought the condemned deserved a good last meal. With breakfast done, everyone shuffled into the briefing hut and settled into the seats. Just as they got settled, the group commander stalked in to a shout of "AAAATTTEENNNN'HUUUTTTT." Everyone leapt to their feet. Recovering from the previous night's festivities, Wedgekree had dozed off in his chair and had to be dragged upright by Roeben.  "Today is a great day for the 303rd," the Group Commander boomed. "For the first time, we get to hit Hitler where it hurts!" With a theatrical gesture, he pulled back the curtain covering the map in front of the room. "We're bombing the U-Boat pens at St. Nazaire!" O'Ginger looked at Roeben with a glance that said it all: "could be worse." St. Nazaire had a growing reputation as "Flak City," it also wasn't Berlin or Hamburg, either. They might have a chance of coming back from this one. The Group Commander pass things off to a staff officer, who covered the important details. Form-up points, airspeed, weather, flight altitude, the Initial Point for starting their bomb run, the Release Point for their bombs, landmarks, expected flak, probable German fighters. The officers jotted down notes and tried to memorize everything they could.  The gunners' ears perked up at the bits about the fighters. Rumor had it there were plenty of 109s and 190s in that neck of the woods. They spent the rest of the brief trying to keep their minds off of the Abbeville Kids. Gatz went back to Betty Grable. Maybe he could persuade Major Albarrow to rename the plane? "Gable's Gams" had a nice ring to it. Reveries came to an end when the staff officer dismissed the gunners passed out maps and started droning about navigation. The gunners shuffled off to the crew chief's hut and checked out their Browning M2 .50 caliber machine guns Satisfied their guns were in working order, they loaded them into their jeeps to be driven off to the waiting bombers. They rejoined the officers crowded in the equipment hut. Swearing and struggling, they began to arm themselves for battle. First on was the electrically-heated flight suit, the only thing between you and frostbite at 30,000 feet. Fleece-lined jacket and hat. Then, the parachutes and their harness. Albarrow and Wedgekree got comfy seatpack parachutes they could sit on. The rest of the crew had to make do with balkier chest-pack parachutes. Grumbling, Ayre struggled to get his harness to fit right. "One size fits all, my rear end," he bitched. Mae West life-jackets for protection from nature. Flak jackets and helmets for protection from mankind. Ramhorn slipped the supply sergeant a carton of Lucky Strikes and got himself a second flak jacket. Escape packs with a silk map of France, some foul-tasting hard candy, a button compass, and a few other optimistic items. With their regalia in place, the crew of The Goon waddled out to the waiting jeeps and headed for the flightline. Everyone's heart quickened a beat when they saw what waited for them. Seventeen B-17s stood wingtip to wingtip, puffs of smoke coming from their exhausts as the crew chiefs warmed up the engines in the frigid November air. Armorers winched ten 500 pound General Purpose bombs into the cavernous bellies of the Flying Forts. Fuellers clambered over the wings with hoses, topping off the big wing tanks.  The crew climbed into The Goon through the tiny crew hatch near the nose and set about their work. The gunners mounted their guns and check to make sure they had their full allotment of 500 rounds of Cartridge, Caliber .50, Armor-Piercing-Incendiary, M8 per gun. Each gun could belt out 750 rounds a minute, meaning that each gunner had less than a minute of "trigger time" over Occupied Europe. Ramhorn mumbled a silent prayer that the Luftwaffe would take today off. Ayre tuned the radio, grinning when he managed to find a station playing Cole Porter. In the nose, Roeben squeezed behind his tiny desk and to pour over his maps and calibrate his compass. O'Ginger carefully placed the Norden bombsight into its brackets. In celebration, he polished off his first flask and started on his second. Up in the cockpit, Major Albarrow and Wedgekree ran through their takeoff checklist and coaxed the four big B-17 Wright-Cyclone R1820 engines to life.  One by one, the B-17s rolled forwards and headed for the taxiway to form a line of roaring giants. Wedgekree and Albarrow peered out the cockpit windows, trying to make out the tower in the dim morning light. Then it came. In a burst of faint green flame, a flare arced into the air. The mission was on! Albarrow muscled a fistful of throttles forward and the English countryside became a green blur in their windows as The Goon picked up speed and lifted off. Behind them, the rest of the Group began their takeoff rolls. Within minutes, everyone was airborne. Deftly working the big bomber's controls, Albarrow eased The Goon into to the low squadron's lead position. With The Goon in the lead, the formation climbed steadily to 25,000 feet, crossed the Channel and headed over Occupied France. Everything was quiet until they approached St. Nazaire. And from there, everything went to hell...  Up in the top turret, Gatz saw them first. Three FW 190s and a lone ME 109 coming in high. Shouting on the intercom, Gatz slewed his turrets around and fired a long burst at the lead fighter. 20mm cannon shells and .50 caliber bullets streaked past each other, only to find empty air at the end of their journeys. Back in the waist, Crotch and Ramhorn ducked as tracers ripped through the metal above their heads. Scrambling back to his feet, Crotch couldn't see any German fighters, just the sheepish waist gunner of "The Duchess" holding his smoking .50 cal. "drat rookies," Crotch muttered under his breath.  Above The Goon, a barrage of gunfire from her sister bombers greeted the second wave of attackers. Alarmed at the tracers streaking from the fliegendes Stachelschwein, the Luftwaffe fighters veered away. A few seconds later, the third wave of three 109s and a 109 screamed in from 12 o'clock. Wedgekree winced as their wings flashed, festively promising death. Two tracers zipped towards his face, shattering the plexiglass in his windshield. Miraculously, the bullets missed him. Major Albarrow looked over and grinned. "Time to earn that flight pay, Wedge!" Wedgekree managed a faint smile in reply and swallowed hard. The Goon shook as another 109 stitched up the Starboard aileron but it kept flying. Fifty caliber rounds slashed from the The Goon in angry reply as Gatz and Jarrell blasted away at the retreating fighters.  As The Goon approached the target, O'Ginger took a nip of whiskey and unsteadily clambered over to the Norden bombsight. With a flip of a switch, he took over flying the aircraft from Major Albarrow. With another flip of a switch, The Goon shuddered as the bomb bay doors opened. Through the plexiglass bubble at the front of their aircraft, he could see innocent-looking puffs of flak explode below him. Squinting through the bombsight, O'Ginger lined up the U-Boat pens in his crosshairs and prepared to squeeze the pickle button...  Suddenly, a flak shell exploded in front of The Goon. Spent shrapnel pattered off her aluminium skin like rain on a tin roof, mercifully doing no damage. Alarmed, O'Ginger slewed the Goon to one side in a hasty evasive maneuver and pickled the bombs. Five thousand pounds of bombs fell earthward and harmlessly splashed into the water, just short of the U-Boat pens. Major Albarrow took back control of The Goon and slowly turned the big B-17 out of flak alley. The moment they were out of range of the 88s, the Luftwaffe swarmed in again. Two big Me 110 Zerstörers rumbled in. Calls of "fighters, six o'clock level" crackled in Geste's headphones, only to be drowned out by the sound of his big .50s as he blazed away at the incoming fighter. Unnerved by the fire, the nervous Nazi pilot fired too early and missed The Goon. In the belly turret, Jarrell pumped a hundred rounds in the direction of a climbing Me 110, only to watch it stall and fall away just before his rounds could reach it.  In the top turret, Gatz didn't see the last fighter until almost too late. Rotating his turret, he got the pipper over the diving Me 109 just in time to see its nose come abalze with muzzle flashes. Most of the rounds harmlessly sailed over the port wing. But the last 20mm cannon shell in the burst connected. Burying itself in The Goon's port wing tank, it exploded. The flash of exploding fuel and cannon shell nearly blinded Albarrow. When his eyes recovered, he could see smoke and fire streaming from The Goon's wing root. Ravage by fire, the #2 Engine shuddered alarmingly and the propeller began windmill, its drag pulling The Goon into a sharp left bank.  "Get out! Get out!" Major Albarrow screamed over the intercom. He looked over at his co-pilot. "Go, Wedge, I got this!" Wedgekree shook his head and stayed at the controls, trying to muscle the wings of the big bomber level. The growing flames decorated the cockpit with a crazy light. Even at 25,000 feet, the two pilots could feel the heat of the flames tightening their skin. In the front of the plane, O'Ginger pulled out his .45 and dumped the magazine into the precious Norden bombsight. He achieved his goal of destroying the top-secret device, but also managed to deafen Roeben and himself. In celebration of his success, he polished off the survivors of his third flask and followed a swearing Roeben out the front crew hatch.  At the rear of the plane, Jarrell frantically rotated his turret so he could get the hatch open. To his relief, Crotch and Ramhorn's strong hands pulled him from the cramped ball turret. In the smoke-filled fuselage, their eyes smarted at the assault. Looking out the port waist, they could see the wing coated in a sheet of flame. Only one word came to mind: "poo poo..." He quickly joined Ramhorn, Geste and Crotch in their dives out the rear door. Albarrow and Wedgekree could feel The Goon sliding further and further into her fatal dive. With the starboard ailerons shot up and the port ones burning out, there wasn't much more they could do. Wedgekree stood and headed for the open bomb bay. Patting the instrument panel, Albarrow whispered "you tried, baby. You tried" and reluctantly headed after his co-pilot.  In the radio compartment, Ayre made a similar rush for the bomb bay. Standing precariously on the catwalk, he could see France rushing up to meet him. Closing his eyes, he jumped into thin air. Unfortunately, he never made it. As he jumped, the ripcord of his parachute snagged a loose piece of metal. The slipstream rushing into the stricken bomber spilled his silk canopy into the bomb bay. Dangling in air the, Ayre futilely yanked at the shroud lines, trying to free his chute. He was still pulling when the port wing spars finally burnt through. The port wing snapped inwards like a giant jacknife, flipping The Goon into a death spiral. Mercifully, the g-forces blacked Ayre out before he hit the ground.  Floating down to earth under their silk canopies, the crew of The Goon could only watch as their stricken bomber fell to earth like a metallic meteor. In other bombers, the 303rd's crews quietly counted nine chutes and mourned the missing one on their long flight back to England. Albarrow, Wedgekree, Roeben, Jarrell, and Ramhorn landed safely enough. But Lady Luck didn't have anything more to give. They landed near a chateau being used by the Kreigsmarine as an R&R area. Some drunken submariners pulled them out of their parachute harnesses, slurred "for you the war ish ovah" and offered them some surpsingly good cognac. After that, it was off to the Satalg Luft. O'Ginger, Gatz, Crotch, and Geste had better fortune. Hitting the dirt out in the countryside, they managed to avoid German patrols long enough to meet up with some sympathetic French farmers. Thanks to Geste's broken French, they managed to arrange a pickup with the French Resistance. Thanks to the Comet Line, the four lucky airmen were smuggled to Spain and from then, back to England. -- Well, that could could have gone better.... In good news, the crew of the second bomber will get to fly much sooner than expected. pinchofginger, the JJ, Yooper and bibliosabreur, you have a choice: 1. Quit the Air Force and use your experiences dodging Nazis to become the escape & evasion experts who train new aircrews? You won't be able to fly missions again, but you have better odds of surviving the war. 2. Rejoin the 303rd Bomb Group and keep flying missions in our new bomber. Realbarrow, Wedgekree, Roeben, Davin Valkri, and painedforever, you have a choice: 1. Attempt to escape. If you make it, you can get back into the fight. Be warned, it'll be hard to make a home run and if you get caught, the Gestapo might decide to...stop you from escaping again. 2. Stay in the Stalag Luft for the duration of the war. 3. Try to feign illness to you can get paroled home. This will take some time, and you won't be able to fight when you get back. Other goons, what should the name and noseart of the next bomber be? Bacarruda fucked around with this message at 15:32 on Jan 21, 2018 |
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Jan 21, 2018 10:21
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Oh, what to do, what to do! On the one hand, I want to get back in the fight. On the other, I went "cautious". Can I make the attempt to escape anyway?
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Jan 21, 2018 12:32
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#2 Mike Crotch rides again!
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Jan 21, 2018 13:01
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 Seems D.Ed Ayre was too apt a name. Good luck, future goons. EDIT- And while I'm at it, added a gunner for a future heavy. Paingod556 fucked around with this message at 15:20 on Jan 21, 2018 |
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Jan 21, 2018 15:08
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I join in the Escape Attempt and if at all possible, I want to make it out with the plans to the Haunebu they made us work on at the camp.
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Jan 21, 2018 15:10
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It's our duty to make an Escape! I am highly motivated by the desire to punch the Group Commander in the face when we get back. 
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Jan 21, 2018 15:53
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Jan 21, 2018 16:38
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It had been a hard week on the bombardier. He'd been shot at, he'd flubbed the chance to put a dent in the sub pens, and worst, his lucky bottle of Jameson had gone down with the Goon. To add real insult to barely-avoided injury, the wine offered to him by the sympathetic French villagers had been corked. But here he was, back on friendly soil. Well, friendly-ish. He had woken up this morning to a note under his door. quote:Dearest Pinch, To get away from his creditors, he would have to get back into the sky and back under the protection of the Air Force as soon as possible. He had to Rejoin the 303rd Bomb Group and keep flying missions in our new bomber. The Boche were much less likely to kill him than Hill was. But first, a drink. pinchofginger fucked around with this message at 16:49 on Jan 21, 2018 |
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Jan 21, 2018 16:44
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