“Ok boys the big friends need our help”, was Boyington’s introduction to the mission.
“They are going to attack the Jap airfield and need us to fend off any interceptor”.
Peter liked those kind of missions, the Japs never failed to send fighters out to intercept the bombers, which in turn meant a target rich environment for the Corsairs.
“We’ll meet the bombers here.”
Boyington pointed to a small island between their airfield and the target. They had used it before as landmark to aid in their navigation.
Everybody went to their aircraft. Before strapping in, Peter glanced over his shoulder to the other aircraft. They had suffered some casualties but the war was finally going well for the Black Sheep.
An hour into the flight, the Corsairs arrived at the rendezvous point, but over the radio they heard disturbing news.
“Little friends, this is big friend leader, come help us, japs on our tail”.
Apparently the Japs had noticed that the Allies had used the island as a rendezvous point before and had placed some fighters on patrol around the island.
Like angry bees the Japanese fighters circled around the bomber formation. The bombers fought them off the best they could, but they could us any help from the Corsairs.
Without hesitation the Corsairs dove down on the Japs. Peter quickly went after a Jap who was stalking a bomber.
The Jap had not spotted him so Peter could sneak up close enough to read the markings on the tail.
A quick burst of his machineguns send the Jap spiralling towards the sea.
The arrival of the Corsairs sealed the fate of the Japanese. Caught in the crossfire between bombers and fighters they all fell to their doom.
Finally the bombers arrived above their target. Apparently the fighters near the island were the only defence the Japs had left, because the only opposition they encountered was the anti-aircraft artillery.Soon the bombs hit the hangars and runways, kicking up clouds of dust and debris.
Peter circled overhead, risking the anti-aircraft fire, noticing how the bombs ploughed through the airfield.
“There won’t be anything left”, he thought.
It seemed that the trip home would be a walk in the park. The Corsairs flew along the bombers.
But Peter sensed that something was wrong. He verified his maps. The bombers were taking the same route back home. This was not good; this made them predictable. If the Japs had still some aircraft left, they could intercept them.
Peter’s fears were grounded. Suddenly a dark dot dove from the sun on to the bomber formation.
A lone Ki-61 made a mad-run. Peter immediately rolled his Corsair on its back and went behind the Jap.
The Japs kept diving, straight for the bombers, while Peter jammed the throttle flat-out in a desperate bid to reach the fighter before it could release its deadly fire on the bombers.
Lucky for the bombers, the Jap pilot dove so fast that he could barely hit a barn with that speed.
But Peter kept chasing the Jap, who might pull up and attack the bombers from below.
The Jap pulled up, ignoring the Corsair on its tail, once again proving that a pilot must always be vigilant in order to survive the skies.
Peter gunned the fighter down, all the while thinking that it was not fun anymore if the Japs let themselves slaughter like this.
The bombers peeled off for their own base while the Corsairs headed for theirs. One by one they touched down.
As the propeller of his fighter wound down, Peter counted the fighters in their revetments. None was missing. It seemed that with each day the US pilots were getting better and better, while the Japs faced a dwindling number of experienced pilots.
“This war can not last forever” though Peter as he climbed out of his cockpit.
Tonight would be another sound night, in the knowledge that with each killed Jap, America was getting closer and closer to victory.