The Flight of the Red Devil (standard:adventure, 0 words)
Author: Red Storm	Added: Jun 27 2001	Views/Reads: 3630/2526	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This is an action-packed fictional account of the first flight of WWI flying ace Manfred Von Richthofen, also known as the Red Baron of Germany. Some real stats are added at the end to punctuate the experience, which I know you will enjoy!

The Flight of the Red Devil 

Belgium, October 1916 

The sky was cold and gray, signaling the onset of dusk. A light drizzle
of rain accented the already dreary land as the sun slowly fell away in 
the West. High above the muddy terrain hummed the single Oberursel U.II 
110h.p. engine of a German Fokker Dreidecker I combat plane. The small 
propeller-driven bi-plane rose and fell slowly in the air, bleeding 
black smoke through over a dozen fresh bullet holes. It was alone in 
the bleak atmosphere, trying to return to the base from which it was 
launched only seven hours earlier. Each of the other Fokkers that had 
accompanied it on this mission had been gunned down, but not before 
sending sixteen enemy aircraft to their graves. The Fokker’s engine 
faltered, sputtered, then returned to normal. The pilot looked down at 
the fuel gauge--another danger--as the tiny needle dropped quickly 
below the red line. 

The land was flowing by like a river’s strong current far below as the
plane raced toward home, wounded but not yet lifeless. The pilot 
mutters a soft curse under his breath as he suddenly spots three enemy 
aircraft taking up pursuit far behind him. The three British-made 
Bristol M1C’s are still only a glint in the small mirror mounted on the 
outside of the Fokker, but they are lighter, faster, and more powerful. 
They have only one set of wings, making them more aerodynamic and 
agile, not to mention their Rhone 9J engine could push them to 
209km/hour, whereas the most the Fokker could do was 160km/hour. In a 
matter of minutes they would be alongside him. He tried to calculate 
the time needed to reach German airspace, but shook his head as he 
realized that they would catch him long before he got there. He would 
have to turn and face them, wounded or not, else they should catch him 
unguarded from the rear. 

The German closes his eyes. [FLASHBACK] A roar fades into existence, all
around his plane. To his right and left, three Fokker I planes 
identical to his own storm forward in attack formation. In front, 
above, and directly below him, slightly more modern Fokker II planes 
match the speed of their smaller counterparts. The engines of the 
planes roar in harmony as the formation trudges toward the Belgian 
border. Nothing yet, but the enemy must be near. The understanding is 
uniform throughout the unit, and the German attack squad moves on 
without fear. A successful attack could mean freedom to deliver more 
aggressive attacks closer to Great Britain. The pilots of each plane 
had trained for weeks, and were now ready for a payoff. 

Finally something moves in the distance. Counterplanes. The German
attack squad is ready to engage whatever resistance the allies can 
muster, and continues on its predestined course. A large counterattack 
is on the intercept. Twenty planes, sixteen Bristol M1C’s and four 
French-made Nieuport 10 bi-planes, much smaller and slower than any 
other plane in the sky. The Nieuport 10’s harness a Gnome 80 h.p. 
engine that can push them to 140km/hour, but that is it. They are also 
in attack formation. There are but ten German Fokkers, 2 to 1 odds, but 
they know that they are better pilots than the allies and are eager to 
engage. The wait is short, and the planes meet in a clash of 
machine-gun fire. Immediately the Fokkers break formation as the 
Bristol M1C’s and the Nieuport 10’s crash through the center of what 
had been a large cross-formation. The guns on both sides roar to life, 
shooting at any moving target of the opposing color, sounding like 
hammers beating soft tin sheets. The dark blue Bristol M1C planes 
quickly begin their turnabout as the black and white German fighters 
are struggling to do the same. The red Nieuport 10 planes follow a wide 
pattern of turn and will be out of range for a few seconds following 
their initial attack. The British planes are now making their second 
run, and the German planes are ready to meet them except for one. The 
topmost Fokker II has sustained crucial gunfire damage on the first 
pass, and is spewing fuel and thick black smoke. The pilot’s view 
becomes blocked by smoke filling the line of sight and his plane begins 
a hard spiral toward the earth. His engine sputters and fails, quickly 
ending his hopes of pulling the plane out of the fall. Indeed, the fuel 
has completely emptied. The plane falls faster toward the earth as his 
companions and enemies look on, finally disappearing in a mountain of 
orange flames and black smoke as it smashes into the ground far below. 

The two formations of planes are re-engaging now, and machine-gun fire


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