THE WAR ANGELS

Chapters 23 & 24 Major Greg Marvin looked out the window of his B-17; the sky filled with brilliant maniacs performing in what seemed to him a suicidal circus. He blinked his blood-shot eyes at the four Luftwaffe Me 109's coming directly at his plane. He re-gripped the wheel as the great Fort shook violently, spitting out its own stream of bullets from the top turret and nose guns at the closing Messerschmitt’s. Major Marvin turned his head as the fighters went by on the right, and he heard Novak, the right waist gunner shout excitedly over the interphone, "Hey. I think I got one of them! Major Marvin turned his head to the man on his right, his copilot, Lieutenant Dave Harper, young and inexperienced, and only on his third mission. Marvin spoke quickly through the interphone, "Knock off the shouting." Then he re-glued his attention to the airspace before them. He was handsome, and being a former football athlete with good hands and a calm manner, was perfect for the aircraft commander of a B-17 bomber. At twenty-eight, he was the oldest man aboard and would be the first to agree that flying was definitely a young man's game. He was proud of his plane, The Sky Queen, and his crew. They were the lead ship in the second squadron in the highest formation. He glanced outside again and knew they were about to get all hell thrown at them. Now he saw the sky over Germany dirty with airplanes and falling debris. A long line of Flying Fortresses filled a corridor of the sky that was surrounded above, below, and in between with black ugly exploding mushrooms of flak. He watched as bursting shells of sharp jagged metal pieces reached out to rip into planes and men, sent skyward by determined anti-aircraft gunners on the ground. From outside that great air corridor, he saw hundreds of smaller planes darting in and out and between, their passage marked by a multitude of tracer lines. A sudden explosion off to his left grabbed his attention, turning his head he held his breath as one of the Forts disappeared in a blinding flash, scattering a mass of debris into the path of the planes still pushing on. The other bombers closed in, filling the gap created by the dying plane. Parachutes blossomed white in the black sky of exploding flak. The rain of falling brown and white jumpers were everywhere. Falling B-17's, German fighter planes and the crisscrossing path of tracers confused his sight. Although the fierce running air battle was raging over many miles following the great stretched-out force of bombers, Marvin was conscious only of the staggered squadron formation of his own group. He maneuvered The Sky Queen through the raging fury and the many faces of death coming against them. He kept an eye on the large stream of bombers moving across the sky, forging steadily and deeper into Germany. Marvin's hat was loose on his head from the sweat beads creeping out from under the brim. He saw more German fighter groups arrive probing for weakness. Then the worst came, the American fighter planes that were escorting the Bomber squadrons reached the limit of their fuel range, and his stomach dropped as he saw them turn back. That left the B-17s with their only hope being the protective staggered box formations they flew. "We can do it boys, were gonna get through this and reach are target, drop our bombs and go home." He reassured himself as well as his crew. Marvin then started counting each type of aircraft and equipment the German war machine was using, mumbling their names as he saw each go by. He saw them use single-engine planes, twin-engine planes, and even four-engine bombers for observation and tracking. They used machine guns and 20-mm cannons. They used air rockets fired from planes and intense, effective concentrations of flak from the ground. They dropped air-to-air mines and bombs from above, filling the sky with more-debris and-deadly shards. In addition, the Germans used their own bombers as launching platforms for their more powerful rockets and cannons. Then, they came with devastating frontal attacks; from high and low positions and from the tails of the formations; they struck at the bombers in single groups of three or four; they hid in the sun, coming into view at point blank range, or they hid in the vapor trails, surprising hapless bombers from the protective box-screen. The calm voice of Stiles, the navigator, came over the interphone. "Nine minutes to IP." Nine minutes, Marvin thought. Nine minutes. It didn't seem possible that anything could survive this much carnage for nine more minutes. The Germans were everywhere. Several holes appeared in the left wing and a piece of the right wing slowly bent itself up and broke off. Marvin moved the control column slightly and could feel the sluggish response. He could see Harper felt it also as they once again exchanged a brief glance. Marvin couldn't help notice and feel the fear of his copilot as he saw the strained eyes staring out above his oxygen mask as if he was hanging onto a cliff by his fingernails. There was nothing he could do but fly the plane. His contribution to their survival was limited. Marvin knew it was the enlisted men who had to keep them alive. The gunners who were blasting away, fighting off the ambition of those German bastards wanting to destroy his ship, The Sky Queen. Soon he knew it would be Ryan, the bombardier, who would have his turn. The whole purpose of the mission was to get Ryan over the target and give him his turn. During the last important moments while making the run over the target, he would put the control of the ship in his hands. "Check. We're at the Initial Point," Marvin heard Stiles, the navigator, say, "Roger, I've got it.” Suddenly Marvin jumped up in his seat as a large piece of black metal, part of some falling debris, spun by the top turret, nicking the Plexiglas cover, and plowed into the vertical fin shearing off part of it. There was a momentary loss of control as Marvin quickly compensated and brought the plane back in line. "What the hell was that?" Marvin barked into the throat mike. Ballard the flight engineer, who also doubled as the top turret gunner, responded. "We've lost part of the vertical fin, sir.'' "How much?" "About half” Marvin moved the control column slightly and again could feel an even worse sluggish response. With part of the vertical fin gone and the damage The Sky Queen had already sustained, he worried as controlling the ship was becoming more difficult. Marvin knew they were too close to the target to abort now and even if they weren't, as long as they were airborne, he'd push on.