ETO Battle of Britain campaign Mark III

[33lima]

There are the Heinkels...

...and there are the Spitfires, attacking them. Based on past experience, I'm optimistic they'll re-join us when they're free, and still have some ammo left, when they do,

The Huns turn around and then drop a few bombs on our airfield. The last we see of the action is the Spits chasing the Heinkels back the way they came.

By this time, we've settled onto our assigned course. There are no Hun fighters around so I'm hoping we'll have an uneventful run down to the target and a profitable evening's bombing, when we get there!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

Hopes of an uneventful leg to the south are interrupted when we come out of warp well short of the coast. Now what?

Crikey! Where did that lot come from? Beware the Hun in the sun! Me110s, by the look of it - big trouble, lots of it.

Fortunately for us, our Spitfire escort tears into the 110s, who, surprised in their turn, sheer off to our rear.

The air battle disappears behind us with surprising rapidity...

...as I watch anxiously from the dorsal turret.

But all seems well again. A check with the view from the mirror sight of the rear-facing gun mounted in that little blister under the nose confirms no-one is sneaking up underneath us, either.

Now, perhaps, we'll be free to get on with our job.

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

We plough on and can now see the coast up ahead, with the Isle of Wight slightly left of our track, as it should be.

Our escorts soon re-join, but they don't hang around for long. Suddenly, a shower of Spitfires is dropping from the skies just ahead of us.

This is what they're dropping on - a group of 109s, who look like they're about to get a very nasty surprise.

The Spits are soon giving them hell...

...and once again, the air fight drops away behind us. Thus left in peace for now, I request a navigation update, which indicates we're now about thirteen miles out.

Power, attitude trim and down we go!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

The soon-to-be-setting sun in the west makes a fine sight, but I've no time to admire the view.

Down we go, towards an as-yet-unseen target.

A quick check of the situation reveals that we have company - bad company, and close by!

Messerschmitt 110s are diving on us from abeam and out of the sun! Two are heading straight for my section on the left. After a split-second wondering what to do about it, I decide to pull up, as they're going down.

My next move is to the dorsal turret. The Huns who came closest have swung out well to the left, and I start testing the range and my aim with short bursts.

My pilot sensibly settles back into his dive, while the two 110s circle out of range, as if planning their next move.

And this time, there's not a Spitfire in sight!

...to be continued!

 

[Remlinger55]

Long time lurker here - I'd just like to say I've really been enjoying your mission reports and look forward to more. I haven't been flying CFS3 for quite some time (mostly because of neck trouble - staring fixedly at a computer screen is not a good idea) but your mission reports are making me feel very tempted to fly again... Cheers, David.

 

[33lima]

Thanks for that David! And I hope you're 'well enough to fly again', soon!

Meanwhile, back over the Channel, my formation is suddenly attacked from behind. A Messerschimitt sets a Blenhiem on fire and wheels away, before I can get off a single round at him.

The stricken bomber flies on briefly...

...before peeling out of formation and going down.

But my attention is quickly drawn back to the Hun who got him. The 110 hasn't gone far and now looks like he's setting up for another pass!

All the while, we're getting closer to the target...except the target isn't there.

It's only afterwards that it will occur to me that maybe I didn't see any ships on the Tactical Display because I'm not up front, in the pilot's seat. For now, all I can think of is that we've come all this way, just to get shot down!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

Suddenly, my attention is drawn back to the left, where the original two Me110s have darted back in towards us.

They don't make easy targets of themselves but I manage to get off a couple of bursts, this time.

This seems to have the desired deterrent effect, for the Huns just melt away again.

Or so it seems...

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

The navigator/Tactical Display is now telling me that we're practically on top of the target that I can't see. In desperation, I order the boys to attack, without picking a specific target. As on the last mission, this should result in them attacking the mission objective, but in retrospect I think the lack of responses on the R/T may indicate that I need to be flying the aircraft, to issue such commands. You can see that I have collected some hits from the last attack, so it wasn't entirely ineffective.

Utterly without warning, there's an awful racket and fragments fly as streams of violet and red tracer sweep my aircraft, holing it from nose to tail!

I've been attacked from below by an enemy I never even knew was there!

For a spilt second I just sit there in complete shock. Then, back in the pilot's seat, I break down and right, instinctively turning back for the coast. The 110 doesn't come after me straight away; possibly he thinks he's got me.

I think so, too. I dump my bombs and head for home. Clearly, I'm not VC material. But I'll settle for not being shot down while hanging around to bomb ships that aren't where they should be.

Home we go! I don't rate my chances of making it, which makes me feel less guilty about leaving the others. I've led them right to the target and ordered them in; I can do no more...except perhaps draw off one or more of the Huns. If they don't get me, engine failure probably will.

All that confidence instilled by the success of the previous mission didn't last very long!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

Down we go, aiming for the eastern tip of the Isle of Wight.

Behind, bombs splash into the sea. No ships are visible, so perhaps the others have just followed my example and dumped their bombloads.

All I can see from the cockpit is a confused picture full of unidentifiable aircraft, some of which appear to be closing up.

As they get nearer, I can see that some of them are Blenheims. Others are definitely not.

Suddenly, that friendly coast seems a long way away!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

By now, our formation - minus the aircraft already shot down - is back together, if a little widely-spaced.

The next victim is the Blenheim on the outside left of the formation, who is attacked from astern.

All the while, the 110s are buzzing around us, like bees or wasps round a pot of honey.

The Blenheim who's been attacked is beginning to fall behind, and one of the Huns rolls in for the kill...

...which he duly gets, but not without being sent down himself, wings holed by return fire.

Throttles wide open, I race for the water, to get as low as I can without running into it.

Sinking ships is long forgotten. Now, it's just a matter of staying alive.

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

Suddenly, there's that horrible, whooshing explosion that every CFS3 player knows only too well. Behind, a Blenheim under fire has blown up and disintegrated. Further out, another bomber has also been hit hard.

One of the broken Blenheim's wings tumbles crazily while the fuselage, with the other wing attached, plunges seawards.

It's hardly surprising that nobody gets out of the wreck.

Meanwhile, the damaged Blenheim on the outside of the formation trails smoke, but is gamely maintaining formation.

The 110 which attacked him looks to be lining up for another pass. At the same time, flak starts bursting nearby.

The question is, whose flak? And will it make any difference?

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

As it happens, it's our flak - which I suppose makes it ack ack. It's coming from an emplacement on the western extremities of the Isle of Wight, the rest of which is in enemy hands.
　

The gunner boys are giving the Huns a good old pasting...or at least, trying to. At this location, we should really have not a flat spit of land, but the spectacular chalk-white cliffs known as The Needles, so the CFS3 topography is a little off. At least it means that having now reached really low level, I don't need to hop over them.
　

At any rate, the 110s trailing us now seem a little less keen to press home their attacks. And by some miracle, my own aircraft is still going strongly.

Soon, I'm racing over the Solent at what feels like wave-top height. At which point I notice that something is kicking up clouds of dirt along much of the horizon ahead. I hope it's not what I think it is...

Yes it is! There's a battle raging, just about where we'll make landfall. Instinctively, I adjust course slightly to the left, so as not to come in right on top if it.

In over dry land we race at last! Whatever happens after this, at least it will happen over friendly territory...except that much of it is in enemy hands.

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

With the Huns snapping at our heels and artillery falling ahead, we roar across the coast. By some miracle, my kite is still holding together and staying in the air.

More shells throw up fire and dirt just to our right, as we come in. Instinctively, I edge away from it all.

German armour is nearby. Who’s attacking and who’s defending is unclear.

Seeing the enemy on our own soil and so close by, I feel compelled to do something. All I’ve got is a single forward-firing Browning, but I bank right and let fly with it at the nearest enemy vehicle. In the dust and fading light, I can’t even see clearly what I'm shooting at. But at least I’ve had a crack.

More shells explode as I come off the target. For a few moments, the pursuing Me110s are forgotten.

I start a turn to the left which will take me away from the barrage and back onto my course for home. Getting there is now the problem - this time with enemies below, as well as above us.

…to be continued!

 

[33lima]

A look behind reveals several straggling Blenheims. The 110s now seem to be further back or higher up.

Taking this as a sign that staying low is hindering the aerial pursuit, I stay down on the deck while continuing my turn onto a more northerly heading. A check of the air situation reveals a confusing picture, with identified Huns apparently threatening the tail-end Blenheims. What I don't notice is that despite being able to see them through my windscreen, the unidentified aircraft to my left front are single-seaters - Spitfires, in fact. Either our escort is catching up again, or a fresh squadron is entering the fray at a very opportune moment.

Our formation comes back together again - it looks like we have only four out of eight still flying. It's at about this time that I realise the 110s are no longer chasing us, thank goodness.

That leaves us and the flak, and all I can do is jink every so often, in an effort to put off their aim. Every half mile or so, someone else takes a pop at us. Further signs of battles on the ground are also apparent.

Fighting my nose-heavy kite all the way, I hug the tree-tops and hope for the best!

…to be continued!

 

[33lima]

On we go! And the flak keeps blazing away at us. Slowing down into a climb seems futile, if not suicidal. So I stay low and continue to jink. It seems doubtful whether we can do another twenty miles of this, which I reckon is what's needed to take us back over friendly territory.

Together, we roar over a town I don't recognise. Off to the left, artillery fire is falling. It's all pretty chaotic.

Will this be our last sunset? I quickly banish the thought from my mind.

Without warning, I have better things to do than admire sunsets. The engine note fades away and the revs fade with it. I haven’t been watching the instruments since reaching the deck so missed any warnings they might have given me. Have I fallen victim to the dreaded CFS3 ‘all engines or nothing’ failure syndrome? No time to worry about that now - we're going in!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

On we go! And the flak keeps blazing away at us. Slowing down into a climb seems futile, if not suicidal. So I stay low and continue to jink. It seems doubtful whether we can do another twenty miles of this, which I reckon is what's needed to take us back over friendly territory.

Together, we roar over a town I don't recognise. Off to the left, artillery fire is falling. It's all pretty chaotic.

Will this be our last sunset? I quickly banish the thought from my mind.

Without warning, I have better things to do than admire sunsets. The engine note fades away and the revs fade with it. I haven’t been watching the instruments since reaching the deck so missed any warnings they might have given me. Have I fallen victim to the dreaded CFS3 ‘all engines or nothing’ failure syndrome? No time to worry about that now - we're going in!

...to be continued!

 

[33lima]

It’s all I can do to hold her nose up as my aircraft bellies in. At least she doesn’t just blow up!

Next thing I know, the Blenheim has slid to a stop and I’m in my dingy!

Then the bomber sinks below ground level, while I wave for rescue! Afloat on muddy dry land, but dry land nevertheless!

Well might I look around in bemusement. I suspect that I was considered to have ditched in the nearby river. There are a couple of those horrible four-tower river bridges just to one side, though graphically, the river itself thins to a narrow stream close to them. A strange one, this!

Anyhow, despite coming down close to some German motor transport which seemed to be under fire, I obviously made it back to base. Equally obviously, the mission wasn’t rated a success! As you can see, my briefing mod's description of a ditching doesn't quite fit the riverine version, but I'm disinclined to adapt it for such odd events!

Despite the very odd ending, this was the most eventful, action-packed mission I’ve flown in any simulator in a long while. And the 'alternative history' invasion is actually adding spice, rather that killing immersion, enough to maintain the necessary 'suspension of disbelief'. The mission's poor results are disappointing after the previous success, but just surviving this one feels every bit as much worth a celebration!

Great stuff! To my pleasant surprise, I’m finding this RAF bomber campaign no less fun as the Fighter Command version, with survival the main challenge. Which by many accounts is pretty well what was really like, for the young crews flying daylight ops the Blenheims of 2 Group, Bomber Command, 1940-41.

 

[33lima]

It’s all I can do to hold her nose up as my aircraft bellies in. At least she doesn’t just blow up!

Next thing I know, the Blenheim has slid to a stop and I’m in my dingy!

Then the bomber sinks below ground level, while I wave for rescue! Afloat on muddy dry land, but dry land nevertheless!

Well might I look around in bemusement. I suspect that I was considered to have ditched in the nearby river. There are a couple of those horrible four-tower river bridges just to one side, though graphically, the river itself thins to a narrow stream close to them. A strange one, this!

Anyhow, despite coming down close to some German motor transport which seemed to be under fire, I obviously made it back to base. Equally obviously, the mission wasn’t rated a success! As you can see, my briefing mod's description of a ditching doesn't quite fit the riverine version, but I'm disinclined to adapt it for such odd events!

Despite the very odd ending, this was the most eventful, action-packed mission I’ve flown in any simulator in a long while. And the 'alternative history' invasion is actually adding spice, rather that killing immersion, enough to maintain the necessary 'suspension of disbelief'. The mission's poor results are disappointing after the previous success, but just surviving this one feels every bit as much worth a celebration!

Great stuff! To my pleasant surprise, I’m finding this RAF bomber campaign no less fun than the Fighter Command version, with survival the main challenge. Which by many accounts is pretty well what was really like, for the young crews flying daylight ops the Blenheims of 2 Group, Bomber Command, 1940-41.

 

[Daiwilletti]

A white-knuckle mission, 33Lima! One thing that the multiple BOB global layers will offer, is I've set up unneeded RAF airbases with flags ="isFactory". This opens up the possiblity of flying as a German bomber pilot, attacking airfields. Not sure how comfortable you would be switching sides in such a treacherous manner

 

[33lima]

A white-knuckle mission, 33Lima! One thing that the multiple BOB global layers will offer, is I've set up unneeded RAF airbases with flags ="isFactory". This opens up the possiblity of flying as a German bomber pilot, attacking airfields. Not sure how comfortable you would be switching sides in such a treacherous manner

Actually I would look forward to that, I'll just have to replace the menu music with 'Bomben auf England' and get into character

If this ETO Blenheim campaign is anything to go by, bomber missions in the BoB mod's campaign will be a heck of a lot more exciting...and dangerous...that they ever were in stock CFS3. If I can have a second staffel for company, I'll be in Heinkel Heaven and any escorts will be icing on the cake. Hopefully, most cakes will come with icing