M Drake - Die Glocke

“Form into a loose circle boys, watch them when they streak in for the attack let them dive on by then get on their tails and give them hell.”

The Mustangs did as Brooklyn said, they formed a loose circle with the lead three Mustangs backed up from the trailing planes making it difficult for the German pilots to single out a target. Brooklyn was hoping to get the Swallows into a turning fight so he could negate their raw speed advantage.

The Me 262’s dived and when in range opened up with their four 30mm MK 108 autocannons, bullets rained down towards the circling targets. A burst peppered the side of Jimmy’s Mustang which was on its side, ready to dive after the Me 262. Puffs of light grey smoke flitted out of the fighter but it said in the air.

The Swallows powered on through the circle of American fighter and raced towards the earth; the Mustang’s nosed over to follow them.

“This is it men, nail them when they try to climb again!” Brooklyn ordered.

The Mustang’s followed their prey heading towards the deck. The Me 262’s did not try to climb though, instead they leveled out and split into three groups, two broke left another two broke right and the final one, the squadron leader carried on flying low over the top of the mountain.

The Mustangs followed suit and as they were diving the lead plane in the formation of three opened up on the trailing Me 262, tracer reached outwards and cut the Swallow in its left wing. The engine billowed black smoke then it exploded in an instant, the wreckage detonated into the field, the pilot had no chance to eject as he was so low to the ground.

The Me 262 saw his wingman blown out of the sky, he pushed his throttle forwards and as the Mustangs were coming to the end of the drive, they lost the speed advantage the head as they had to level out.

Two Mustangs trailed the single Squadron leader who was still flying fast and low over the surrounding countryside.

“Is he bugging out?” Brad asked.

“Looks like it.” His wingman replied.

Suddenly the Swallows engine powered down and he slowed, the pilot fought with his controls.

A broad smile swept across Brad Taylor’s face. “I got you now you bitch.”

The two Mustangs closed the gap and Brad brought the piper over the target.

Without warning the Me 262 cut all power nosed up slightly then rolled over to the left. The Mustangs were too close, too confident and they zoomed on passed.

“Shit, shit, shit where is he? Can you see him Ron?”

“Fuck he’s…” Ron was cut off as a hail of bullets completely obliterated his aircraft.

“Shit.” Was all Brad could say as he began to turn his plane aggressively, desperately trying to shake off the German on his tail.

The Me 262 rolled slightly then waited for Brad’s next maneuver, with icy cold nerves he waited, and then Brad made the fatal error lost his nerve and went to climb out of the fight. It was too late and the Swallow pilot only needed this split second to open fire. The rounds bit into the tail of the Mustang which disintegrated and split from the fuselage. Brad bailed out but his parachute failed to open.

Three Mustangs still trailed one Me 262 and were all eager to get the kill, they jockeyed for position. They had the scent of blood and much like a pack of hungry reef sharks they closed in. The Me 262 slowed to let them close the gap, suddenly it broke left then bullets raced forwards into the lead Mustang, he was hit head on, his propeller was badly damaged and the rounds cut into his engine; flames engulfed the cockpit and the fighter rolled over and exploded into the grass.

The other two Mustang’s did not know what had just happened, their pilots reacted too slowly and the second Mustang was hit in the cockpit, it disintegrated and the pilot was killed instantly; the plane listed lazily to the left and impacted into a small wooded area.

The third Mustang panicked and pulled hard left on the controls, he narrowly avoided the Squadron Leader’s Me 262 who had appeared out of nowhere to save his comrade. The American pilot was climbing at too steep an angle and was losing airspeed, he stalled it but the second Me 262 had misjudged his attack and was coming in too fast, the two planes collided mid air, they both spun to the ground and exploded.

A Me 262 was low on fuel and out of ammunition the pilot reluctantly pushed hard on the throttle and streaked away to the South. This left four Mustangs and two Swallows in a sky that had been crowded not five minutes. The Squadron leader and his wingman climbed again pushing their Me 262’s for all they were worth.

Brooklyn Johnson and his wingman Jimmy prepared for another assault.

“We have to get that son ova bitch this time Jimmy, we won’t have the ammunition for another go.”

“Roger that Brookie, it’s been an honor serving under you sir.”

The Mustangs climbed after the Me 262’s who nosed over inverted and fired down on the American fighters, the Mustangs opened up as well; deadly tracer rounds danced across the sky.

Jimmy Doolittle gave it all he had as he squared off with the second Me 262, the both fired until their guns were empty but they had managed to miss every one of their shots, they still flew towards each other but at the last minute Jimmy turned left while the Me 262 went right. The Me 262 bugged out of the fight.

“Get on the tail of that 262 boys, I have no ammo left.” Doolittle shouted.

The two Mustangs went after him but gave up the case as the Me 262 accelerated off into the distance. The Mustangs went for home even though they had very little chance of making it on their remaining fuel.

Brooklyn Johnson was still firing bursts into the Squadron leader, who was returning fire with as good as he got, they were about to reach the point where they would both have to disengage but neither wanted to flinch first.

Brooklyn’s six 0.50 caliber Browning machine guns chuntered away until they had nothing left, the last rounds impacted into the nose and canopy of the Me 262 but it kept coming. Brooklyn managed to roll left just in time as the Swallow continued on. Brooklyn leveled off but the Me 262 continued to gain speed as it dived towards the earth. It never recovered and slammed at full speed into the field below. Brooklyn’s rounds had taken out the Squadron leader and he had his fifth confirmed kill of the day; he was now a double ace.

Something was not right; Jimmy had not got a joyful celebration from his friend. Brooklyn coughed and then spluttered a mixture of mucus and blood up onto his chest. He looked down and could see blood oozing from the bullet wounds in his left arm, chest and leg. He smiled weakly as he brushed his right hand over the picture of his wife Alana and his young child Brooklyn Junior, their faces smiled happily back.

Brooklyn’s Mustang began a shallow dive as he fought hard not to black out but the edge of his vision had already started to blur and his body was not responding to his commands, he struggled to drew in one last deep breath but it just would not come and their air bubbled out with blood from a hole in his left lung.

Despite Jimmy Doolittle’s frantic attempts to get Brooklyn to pull up, he got no response and Brooklyn’s Mustang crashed nose first into a Polish field. Brooklyn did not feel the impact though as he died from his wounds, staring into his wife’s eyes on the way down.

The Battle in the air was over.

Walther Gerlach and his son Joseph worked away hard, oblivious to the death and destruction raging above their heads. In the secure bunker they had managed to stabilize the massive bell-shaped device in an electrically charged atmosphere. The power was kept at 75 percent.

Bright blue lightning spread across the device in vine-like patterns, over the last few hours the bell had started to radiate a blue glow. The counter-rotating tubes of Xerum 525 created a vortex again.