Fortresses Over Germaney

by The Grey Pegasus

Part I - 1944 and Four Hundred Miles to Flankfurt

Author's Note:

Half over-the-top, half serious, one hundred percent WWII aviation excitement.

In the original concept of the story, it was not envisioned that it would reach the actual total length. As it is, the story has been divided into multiple parts.

Click here for a quick read for context.

Fortresses Over Germaney
By: The Grey Pegasus

Part I - 1944 and Four Hundred Miles to Flankfurt

USAAF Station 107
Cambridgeshire, Equland
September 23, 1944
0530 Hours

The morning reveille sounded, waking up aircrews early in the morning. It signaled one thing—today was not going to be relaxing.

"Come on everypony, wake up. None o' you are goin' to get the chance to stay in any longer."

"... Easy for you to say, Applejack... You're just a gunner..."

Quick morning banter was exchanged among ponies, but Rarity in particular had some issues with feeling sleepy—one does not like to think about having to fly a bomber straight into flak-filled skies the second one wakes up.

"Whatever, Major. Sky's a-waitin'," Applejack plainly replied.

Rarity grumbled as she levitated the sheets off of herself and got out of her bed. Looking over to Applejack, she found the earth pony ready in her entire flight uniform, leaning against the wall. The earth pony's prized stetson rested on the sheets, and the earmuff-headset piece that would instead take its place on Applejack's head hung around her neck.

"How long have you been awake?" the unicorn asked as she, too, started putting on her clothes.

Applejack shrugged. "Woke up a couple minutes early. Figured there was no point in trying to catch a couple more winks of sleep. Guess this is how Hemlock and Octavia feel like every morning."

Rarity took a glance over to where her flight engineer and co-pilot slept, and as noted, were again not there, evidently awake before the rest of the crew.

Much of the other aircrew was in the middle of the same process as she was. One of them, a stallion, seemed to have even more trouble accepting the fact that it was time to get up.

"Pinkie, do you got anything strong with sugar in it? Chocolate maybe?" he asked, muffled by a pillow.

"Nope! But maybe Box or Tavi can bring you some when they come back!" Pinkie Pie replied. The two ponies mentioned were again the crew's engineer and co-pilot.

"Yeah. Likely..."

"By Celestia's horn and wings, Redwood, sometimes I wonder if you're the epitome of madness," Twilight Sparkle remarked as she clambered out of her own cot.

Redwood Heartbuck groaned and remained in his spot. "Box and Tavi are out already as usual and I know they're not getting me any." He sighed. "How on earth can you wake up like this Pinkie?"

"I don't know!" the pink pony replied as she bounced to the door. "Maybe I'm just so excited for the big party tomorrow! All the fun and drinks and food and..." she trailed off as she exited the door without missing a beat, seemingly engrossed in her rant.

"Staff Sergeant Pie's got a point there, 2nd Lieutenant Heartbuck," Applejack said. "Jus' get through today and then tomorrow you can sleep and drink and whatever all ya want. And it ain't a bad idea to try to be like Lieutenant Wingnut and Lieutenant Melody. They ain't mornin' ponies either, but at least they deal with it."

Redwood knew that when Applejack—and a few other of the crew—started referring to her friends by rank, she was getting a little bit short on end. By this point he was just toying with her, since doing so would help him wake up a bit more. But only a bit.

Regardless, Applejack walked over alongside his cot and picked up his heavy flight jacket with a hoof. "You... well, jus' get up." Applejack promptly threw the thick jacket at the limp form under the sheets.

Redwood gave a grunt of surprise and reluctantly sat up. "Alright, alright, geez. Hey—how fast do you get dressed, AJ?"

"If you got your head up when you were supposed to, you'd've heard that I woke up a couple minutes early. Now do I have to throw your boots at you too or are ya gonna get up?"

"I'm up, I'm up. Relax." Regardless, he got a boot thrown at his head, much to his dismay. "Corporal Worth, you look up and ready. I task you with getting me some hot coffee and meet me on the way there with it."

"I thought Master Sarge over there told you to get your own," Nickel Worth replied, referencing Applejack, who had already gone out the door.

"I recall outranking both of you," Redwood retorted.

"Wow, 2nd LT's really cranky in the morning, isn't he?" the light gray earth pony commented to the others.

"Ah, relax, Nickel," Vinyl Scratch said from the doorframe. "You're gonna be riding with me and AJ in the back anyways. You won't even have to see his cranky face. Besides—you haven't seen cranky until you see Tavi without her morning brew."

"Hey Scratch, pour me some when you get there before me, alright?" the tan earth pony requested as he slipped on his jacket.

"Yeah... no," the unicorn answered with a grin as she put on her purple-tinted aviator sunglasses and also left out the door.

<<+>>

Outside, Redwood found his crew conversing with two other ponies that had walked back to their barracks. One was a light green unicorn and the other was a dark gray earth pony.

"Lock. Tav. Didn't happen to bring me coffee this time either, did you?" Redwood asked the two.

"Lieutenant, I suggest you treat your senior officers with more respect," Octavia Melody lightly scolded. "As I've previously said many times before, and I believe you've mentioned yourself, observe the rank hierarchy."

Cocking his head, Redwood replied after a short silence. "You are not a nice pony to deal with first thing in the morning."

"And that's why Tavi needs a boiling pot of coffee when she wakes up," Vinyl pointed out. "Oh the days I woke up when she didn't have any yet... ugh..." She shuddered at the memories. "She needs her morning coffee like a true Amareican, and needs her afternoon tea like a true Brayton.

"Better than dealing with you any time of the day," said Hemlock Wingnut.

"Don't kid yourselves—you guys love me."

"And I don't condone laziness in my aircraft," added Rarity. "Be an officer and a gentlecolt, and go fetch some tea for your commanding officer."

"You're joking," Redwood flatly remarked.

"Do you think an officer and a lady like me would ever do such a thing?" Rarity asked, pointing a hoof to herself with a sly smile.

"Probably not, because I thought that was my job..." Pinkie said, rubbing a hoof against her chin.

"So, shall we waste more time standing around, or will the navigator lead us to the mess hall?" Octavia said.

The reply she received was a roll of his green eyes before walking in the desired direction. The rest of the ponies followed suit. Redwood could be a difficult stallion to work with at times, but when in the right mood or when duty called, he could be relied on to do his job and further when it counted the most. Neither of those criteria matched the present moment.

<<+>>

The mess hall consisted of long tables and benches, and the bomber crew went through the familiar routine of gathering breakfast and taking their seats around one such table.

"They did briefing yesterday," Nickel said. "Check my memory—target is Flankfurt today, right?"

"That's right, Corporal," Redwood answered. "Rail yards."

"So Nickel, how many missions have you been on again?" Hemlock asked.

"Eight," Nickel answered. "Then, of course, the eighth mission I got hit with shrapnel and then I got hospitalized. But I guess that's better than getting killed. Suppose it's what I get for being on a plane called Luna's Luck."

"I believe that you can be free of worry now, Corporal Worth," Rarity announced while inspecting her mane in a small mirror. "Fifty-one sorties in our current aircraft so far and not one instance of notable damage."

"I'm replacing somepony whose tour is over, correct?"

"Indeed you are. And this is your first tour, correct?"

"Yes."

"Well we're all on overtime by now, anyways," Vinyl added. "Third tour, I think."

"And hell if I know why I've stuck around," Redwood commented. Back when the crew was formed earlier in the war, he was one of the initial outsiders, not having any immediate friends in the crew, unlike Rarity and her group or Octavia with Vinyl. Yet through training back in Amareica, he'd grown to be a reliable asset to the crew as well as a good friend. Even when he could be a little thick at times.

"Don't lie to yourself, Heartbuck, you love us," Octavia smirked, echoing his earlier statement.

"Are you awake yet?"

"That's for me to know and you to judge."

"Alright, now I got a question." Nickel finished chewing the food in his mouth before beginning. "So—how do two mares so seemingly prim, proper, generally high-class and all that, a tailor and a musician, end up so high in rank and in command of a bomber with the mission of destroying things and killing ponies?"

"We're flying a bomber, Nickel," Applejack answered. "The pilots don't have to be hotshots. You find those pilots flying fighters."

Rarity and Octavia nodded in agreement.

"You'd also be surprised how well their civilian occupations complemented their new positions," Twilight added. "Practiced in precise movements, coordination, multitasking, a sense of caution, the ability to follow procedures and orders—it's almost as if they were destined for their positions."

The pilot and co-pilot smiled at the compliments.

"They've earned it too."

"And we believe it is a proper service to our fellow ponies to help end a war faster," said Rarity.

"The military is like an orchestra," Octavia started. "Composed of multiple elements that combine for a singular outcome. And the better performance of a single musician, the better the overall outcome. That's why we've all remained here—together, we make an impressive crew."

"But what about you Captain Sparkle?" the gray earth pony continued. "Skilled magic user, highly studious—you were a student of the Queen if I heard right, 'til you moved to the States."

"Oh she just didn't trust anypony else to be able to work out the math and all that when it came to droppin' the bombs," Applejack said with a teasing tone.

Twilight replied with a sheepish smile.

"And Applejack—you're related to Macintosh?" Nickel asked, still curious about the new and incredibly interesting crew he had been assigned to.

"Heh... yeah... He's my brother."

"What ever motivated him to become a general?"

Applejack gazed downwards. "Well, uh, after... uh... we lost pa... to the War, Mac got it in himself that he'd do him right and join the military. Part of it was because of our uncle who already was one, which you might know of. He was always a nice pony to be with when he was around, so that's part of it. But the bigger reason is closer to our hearts.

"See, family is a big thing for us Apples, and Mac didn't want any other families to go through what we had to. At least once in control, he could help prevent that kind a' thing. And so, years passed, and now my big, smart brother ends up halfway across the world on his way to liberate the Fillypines. I'm sure our uncle would be real proud o' him. Us Apples are the most reliable, dependable ponies you'll ever find; I knew Mac would come through on his words on returnin'." She finished with a small laugh and a glint in her eye.

"And I'm sure Twilight has something she'd love to share as well," said Octavia.

Twilight returned a sheepish grin. "No, no, it's fine."

"Oh, but I'm sure everyone would love to hear why the group flew a mission over the Netherlands the other day," the gray mare persisted.

All eyes focused on the lavender unicorn. Although except for Nickel, they all knew what it was already.

Twilight surrendered. "Fine... You know Operation Market Garden—"

"The one that's going oh-so-swell right now," Octavia said critically.

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Nickel replied. "Why?"

"Yeah..." Twilight sighed, scratching the back of her head uncomfortably. "My brother's in charge of it."

"General Shining Armour's your brother?!" Nickel asked incredulously. "The Braytish general that helped win North Zebrica?"

"That's him, my big brother, best friend forever. Finally someone thinks of him for more than just the latest failure." Twilight managed a smile. "To spare you the question, he got impressed by Her Majesty's Royal Guard when they were in procession one day," Twilight nonchalantly stated. "And now, in his race to reach the heart of Germaney first, well... it appears things didn't go as planned. He's not usually like this..."

"Home by Hearth's Warming they said," said Redwood. "Back to your families by the holidays. Hell, you'd probably have an easier time getting a Purple Heart as your ticket back home if you want to get back by then."

"Well at least he gave it a shot," Hemlock pointed out.

"So, Twilight, about who's going to make it to Bearlin first..." grinned Rarity.

"Shut it, Rarity!" Twilight hissed. "You know what? Maybe the Reds will. Celestia knows they're itching to get back at the Germanes after they were holed up in Stalliongrad for so long."

Meanwhile, Nickel, left with the awkward position they had put their bombardier in, decided to ask something more normal, in the sense that it was simply random and odd and personal. The topic of conversation regarded their flight engineer.

Hemlock was the current crew's other outsider when they were given assignments all the way back in training. He made pretty good friends with Redwood, being two stallions in a majority female crew and over time came to be something of Redwood's converse. If Redwood was on one side, one might expect Hemlock to oppose him somehow. Just a routine between any other set of friends.

The corporal directed the question towards their flight engineer in a manner that isolated the conversation between the two. "Hmm... okay, actually—this next one's not really related to much—but Lieutenant Wingnut, why are you named after a poisonous plant? You seem to be a nice pony, and in my experience, pony personalities seem to match their names. Go figure."

"Different hemlock," Hemlock replied, as if he'd already answered the question many times before. "My mother, a unicorn, was a botanist—parents agreed to name me after the state tree of our home state of Prancesylvania—eastern hemlock. And my father, a pegasus, was an engineer for some weather devices—that's where Wingnut comes from."

Nickel stared blankly. He just couldn't get himself a break from asking questions in this new crew. "Then where does the nickname 'Box' come from? I've heard some ponies around call you it, but–"

"He ain't ever gonna tell you," Applejack answered with a grin.

"It was from this one time where—*ack*" Redwood was interrupted mid-sentence when he was choked by his own pair of headphones. He glanced over at Hemlock.

"Hey, want to tell Nickel about that time you crashed the jeep on the way back from town?" Hemlock suggested.

Redwood frantically waved his hooves, still unable to speak due to being choked by his headphones. The aura surrounding the green unicorn's horn disappeared.

Redwood coughed. "Fine."

<<+>>

The crew soon finished their morning preparations and headed out to the airfield. Celestia's sun was peeking above the horizon, but not very high, streaks of purple and dark blue fading away to the light of day. The lighting was just enough to make out the nose art and other markings on the bombers.

The group of nine ponies walked along the row of parked bombers, each one a mighty B-17G Flying Fortress, with ground crews here and there preparing them for flight. Finally, they neared their own. It was among the first B-17Gs delivered to their unit, replacing the older F models in early 1944.

"The Sweetie Belle II," Nickel read out loud, stopping in place to read the name on the aircraft's nose. "Why the name?"

"After our first aircraft in 1943, naturally," Rarity explained. "A venerable B-17F that got us through that frightening, tough, no-escort period. I had won a contest among the crew to name it. I named it after my dearest younger sister—I love her very much. Not to mention the strange... destructive tendencies she has."

"... Destructive tendencies?"

"In one instance I can recall, she burned juice."

"Burned... juice."

"You heard me correctly. A shame we don't use incendiary bombs very often, I suppose," Rarity off-hoofedly remarked. "Anyhow, collectively agreeing to christen our new bomber after our previous one is a testament on how much the first one grew on us."

"You know, Rarity," Hemlock inquired, "You never did tell us how your sister reacted to it."

"She said she liked the dress. So I made her one in both colors before I left for Equland again."

"Hm."

The nine ponies stopped in front of the Sweetie Belle II, its nose adorned with art and sortie and victory markings.

"Well Nickel, here she is," Hemlock announced. "Quite possibly the most successful aircraft in this unit to operate with only two wings."

The rest of the crew grinned at the statement, it being another one of their other claims to fame.

"... What?" Nickel asked, confused. "I don't..."

"Take a look at us, Corporal." Twilight motioned to the rest of the crew. "No wings on our backs! We hold the distinction of being one of the only crews without a single pegasus. No wings on this bomber except the ones it flies on."

"Is everything ready?" Rarity asked one of the ground crew that were currently walking around it.

"Bombs are loaded, ammunition's on board, tanks are topped off," the pony replied. "Flight instruments are all good. And she said engines are checked and are ready for another flight, Major."

"Thank you," the major nodded, then stopped. "Say, where is the crew chief herself? I don't see her here."

The pony shrugged. "Somepony else needed some help. That's all I got."

Rarity sighed. "Very well then. Tell her we'll be back safely."

"You got it, Major."

Pinkie gasped and looked at Nickel. "Oh my gosh, your post was ball gunner, right?"

"Yeah—"

"But I'm the ball gunner too! We totally forgot to work this out! And since we don't have our tail gunner anymore, somepony needs to cover our tail! Because nopony ever wants to have their tail pinned unless it's a party!"

Pinkie paused as she noticed her crewmates staring at her, their expressions saying 'get to the point'.

"Don't worry Nick, I'll take the tail! Enjoy the ball! It's so much fun, don't you agree?!"

"Uh, yeah. New perspective... of... the world."

With the positions quickly and painlessly resolved, Rarity turned her head to the rest of her crew. "Shall we?"

2nd Lt. Heartbuck came right up to her side. "Let's go. I want to sit down."

Much of the crew rolled their eyes or gave unamused looks.

"Of course you do," Applejack commented.

<<+>>

It was just 7 in the morning when the crew boarded the bomber and took their positions throughout the plane.

Rarity took the pilot's seat on the flight deck, with Octavia sitting to her right and Hemlock in the compartment behind them where his station was located, as well as the top turret. As the green unicorn went to work checking the twin .50 caliber M2s in the turret, Rarity and Octavia went through their pre-flight checklist.

On the deck below them, Twilight took her seat at the clear nose of the B-17. In front of her was the Norden bombsight, essentially the only reason she was there. As she went through pre-flight calibrations and checks, she was interrupted by some light snoring. Looking back towards her cabin mate, Twilight found the stallion lightly napping over the navigation table.

"Redwood, you can't be asleep. Wake up." She tugged at him lightly using her telekinesis.

The tan pony perked up slightly. "Oh come on, relax. Wake me up a couple minutes after wheels-up."

"We're on duty now. Don't sleep on the job. And you were already awake earlier."

"Doesn't stop me from going back. Look, if you're worried about me being awake enough to navigate, relax. I don't have a magnetic compass and a mathematical compass adorning my flank for nothing. All the equipment is calibrated. Wake me up after take-off." He put his head back on the small table.

Twilight rolled her eyes. There was no use trying to coerce the earth pony up and about any further. He did state a truth—he was one of the best navigators around and Twilight herself gave credit to his skill. And if Command never found out about this, they wouldn't care if nothing went wrong.

The unicorn gave up and left him alone a little longer. After all, it was only a half-hour at most until they left. And engine start-up, on the other hoof, was just a matter of minutes. That would keep him awake, and she knew it.

Twilight created a telepathic link to the pilot. "Rarity, how much longer until you get the engines started?"

"Just a couple more minutes, Twilight. You of all ponies know how to respect lists."

"That I do, Rarity. But at this point, don't you think you can go a little faster through a list you've read countless times?" Twilight glanced back at Redwood, still slumped over his table. "It seems that our navigator needs some help finding his way back to the path of proper operating procedure."

Between the two experienced pilots, Rarity and Octavia went through the starting checklist at the requested increased pace.

"Lock, how are the engines?" Rarity asked.

"A-OK, Major. Checked and ready to go," the flight engineer replied from behind them.

Once they had properly confirmed that all of the proper switches were toggled and everything was in place, Rarity gave the order. "Lieutenant, start the engines."

On the command, Octavia activated the starter, the sounds of 4,800 horses arising from slumber filling the cabin. Each pop of a piston as the engines revved up was like the plane coming to life and popping its joints, ready for a hard day's work.

"Ah, sweet music to my ears."

As the four engines started roaring to life, Twilight turned to her left, towards Redwood. Her horn glowed as she levitated his headset off, in her effort to help him arise from slumber.

"Hey, hey, I need those," Redwood complained, barely audible through the engine noise. He was forced to sit up attentively as his hearing senses woke up and ears started twitching. He shifted glances between Twilight and his levitating headset, which was too far for him to reach.

After attempting to endure the noise for a little bit, Redwood started looking less drowsy and more irritated, and probably in pain from the roar of the engines reverberating in his head.

Once she received the displeased expression, Twilight finally gave the headset back. She heard his voice over the headphones.

"Ugh... Captain Sparkle, I'll get you for that. *Sigh* This is 2nd Lieutenant Heartbuck. Ready to go and double checking the course."

"Glad to hear it, Lieutenant," one of the pilots said.

In the rear, directly behind the bomb bay, Vinyl was actually not inside her radio compartment but rather standing up and sticking her head out of the opened roof window, her purple-tinted aviators raised on her forehead. It was the same thing every mission. She memorized the timings of the routine, and with her expertise in electronic equipment, she always kept the radios in top shape. She didn't mind morning missions much—the view of the early sunrise backing the scene of the bustling airbase mixed with the crisp late-September air made up for having to wake up early.

However, Nickel, Applejack, and Pinkie didn't have the benefit of a window to open and stick their heads out of. So they settled for keeping each other occupied.

"So Nickel," Applejack started as she settled into one of the fold-down seats, "have ya even gotten a chance to shoot at Germanes?"

"Yeah, once. My second mission. A few of them came to harass, and they left right after."

"Did ya hit anything?"

"I... maybe?" Nickel said, unsure.

"Did they shoot down any of the bombers?" Pinkie asked.

"No."

"Then you don't have to worry!" Pinkie exclaimed, but in a quiet manner, as to respect the tranquility of the morning. "It doesn't matter if you don't know whether you hit or not. At least, I think so. It sure is better than having to know how many shots you're making count."

"I guess."

"What Pinkie says comes from experience," said Applejack. "Gonna be honest with you, 1943 was a rough year."

"So I've heard."

<<+>>

Soon, they were given the directions to move out and head for the runways. Upon taxing onto the runway, the pilots waited for the signal. At the pop of a flare, the signal to take off, only seconds later, the pilots eased the throttle to maximum. The purr of the engines grew to a roar, and soon the heavy bomber lumbered into the skies.

The departure of Fortresses from the airfield was constant. The airborne planes circling above, assembling into formation. Once all had left the ground, Redwood relayed directional information to Rarity.

As the bombers slowly gained altitude, the planes in formation adjusted themselves into their flying positions. Being the lead ship, Sweetie Belle II would be joined by another B-17 on either side in the combat box formation.

Rarity looked out of the window to her left, seeing Cold Hail From Cloudsdale. It was a newer B-17G as evident by its silvery plain metal finish, instead of the older olive drab paint coat that Sweetie Belle II wore. To the right, Aluminum Alicorn IV, also baring shining plain metal surfaces, completed the three plane arrangement.

Together, the three bombers flew in generally close proximity, allowing the multitude of gunners in each plane to provide more effective mutual support against attacking Germanes. Granted, the opposing airpower was becoming inconsistent and much of the times even absent in strength by this time, due to the grueling damage done to their forces by constant bombardment and skilled aces.

Still, the Flying Fortresses kept true to their name, continuing to carry a near-full complement of gunners. In-flight gun maintenance procedure continued as always, whether there was going to be shooting or not.

About half an hour into the flight, Applejack checked over the port side M2 machine gun once more. Although usage of the gun had mostly been restricted to test firing the past few flights, they were still in a war. The enemy's ability to retaliate may have been severely cut down, but they were not out.

Scanning the sky, Applejack found something of interest to report. "Hey, Rare—ya might want ta take a look outside."

Rarity casually looked out of her window, finding a flight of four P-51 Mustangs joining the formation from above, slowly making their way through the bomber cloud. The aircraft displayed familiar blue noses. Upon closer inspection, Rarity also recognized it as the arrival of their own blue-nosed friend.

"Vinyl, could you bypass procedure a little and patch me in to the lead Mustang off our port side?" Rarity requested to their radio operator over the intercom.

"Hmm?" Vinyl peered up out through a window. Just as Rarity said, there was a P-51 flight off to their left. "Oh. Alright, gimme a moment. One magic radio frequency coming right up..." Vinyl replied. She focused her magic onto Rarity's headset and joined it with the headset of the pilot in the lead plane. "Okay Major—you're on air."

"Thank you, Sergeant." Rarity turned her attention to the escort planes. "Nice of you to join us, Major," she greeted through the radio. "Care to escort us to Flankfurt and back?"

A moment of silence, as the pilot of the Mustang was probably surprised to hear Rarity's voice.

"Ah, don't worry, Major. I won't let those Germanes touch a hair in your mane."

Rarity watched as one of the Mustangs flew alongside the cockpit of Sweetie Belle II. In the canopy of the Mustang was a light blue pegasus, who gave a wave and a salute over to Rarity.

"How nice of you, Rainbow. I actually groomed a little this morning."

"You might be groomed, but your plane's still wearing the ol' green eh? In my opinion, it doesn't compare to the sleek shining metal that newer planes have. Get with the times, Rarity, clean finish is in style," Rainbow teased, punctuating her statement by rolling her Mustang to the left until she leveled out again. The clean aluminum surfaces gleamed with light as the plane rotated.

Rarity grumbled. "Don't you start flaunting yourself. I feel enough frustration as it is," she replied, glancing off towards the directions of Sweetie Belle II's two bare metal partners Hail From Cloudsdale and Aluminum Alicorn. They were, in fact, quite dashing, pun unintended.

"Besides, weren't you the one that said green isn't your color?"

"Shut up!"

Rainbow chuckled. "Okay, okay, relax. Speaking of paint jobs, those are quite a number of bombs painted on the nose. What mission are you guys flying? Trying to secure a record?"

"Fifty-second sortie in this ship. And what's wrong with trying to secure a record?"

"Nothing. I can't blame you or else I'd be hypocritical." Rainbow let out a small laugh.

"I was going to say—you're the one to be talking about sticking around and securing a record," Rarity said. "Besides, as you recall, Twi—Captain Sparkle—of course has her gracious connections with the president back in Amareica, and so decided to ask if we could stay as long as we'd please, as normal tours aren't long enough. Naturally, they had to keep us. I think she was itching to return to action during that goodwill tour."

"Well of course!" Twilight yelled over the intercom to Rarity. "All it takes is a look at our combat record to figure out 'hey, we should keep them at the front because they're effective'. Why not be here and help end the war faster? Besides, a 'congratulations, you're one of the first to complete twenty-five missions' tour, nice and all as it is, doesn't really compare much anymore when we've done it twice over again, and even now going for fifty-two. Granted, circumstances permit feats such as this more easily..."

Rarity chuckled. "Oh yes, she was definitely eager to come back." Then Rarity yawned, feeling traces of drowsiness from the early hours.

"Still tired a bit Rare?" Rainbow asked, having heard the unicorn yawn.

"It's fine. I have Octavia to cover for me if need be."

The gray earth pony rolled her eyes.

"You're lucky," the pegasus replied. "I don't have anypony to cover for me, and you know how I like my sleep." She chuckled.

"Not as much as our navigator perhaps."

"What was that?" a male voice asked through the intercom.

"Don't mind it." Rarity continued. "Anyways, how was your morning, Rainbow?"

"My morning?"

<<+>>

USAAF Station 141
Norfoalk, Equland
September 23, 1944
0546 Hours

The quiet silence of the morning.

A jeep driving by outside.

"MAJOR, WAKE UP! WE GOT GERMANES ON A SURPRISE RAID HEADING ACROSS THE CHANNEL!"

Rainbow Dash jumped out of her bed, nearly hitting the ceiling with a single flap of her wings.

"Dear Luna what the hell!" she exclaimed as she rushed to put on her uniform. "The hell are those Germanes doing?!"

Then she froze in place as her mind fully woke up, thinking over the situation.

'Wait a minute...' Rainbow looked over to the pony that called her up.

The jacket-donning mare was leaning against the doorway, finally bursting out in laughter after holding a tight, smug smile.

"Lightning..."

"Wow, Rainbow, you should've seen yourself go! I haven't seen you get out of bed that fast since—"

"Lieutenant, what the hell was that all about," Rainbow said as she slowed her pace, not at all amused. She now took the time to also look presentable when she walked outside.

"Just testing your reflexes, Major," Lightning Dust said smugly. "You never know when you might need 'em again."

Rainbow sighed as memories flooded back. The wording of the wake up call did not help one bit. She pushed them away. Memories, whether good ones or not, distracted pilots. A distracted pilot was not an effective pilot, nor an effective leader.

"Are the brothers already up?"

"Thunderlane and Rumble? Oh yeah, they're probably getting breakfast if they're not already hitting up the other mares. Hey—there still some left in that?" The lieutenant walked over to a table near the beds, picking up a bottle.

"Wait—"

Lightning raised the bottle to her mouth, finding half of its content still remaining. She gulped it down, placing the empty bottle back down after giving a satisfied 'ah'.

"—I was going to finish that."

"I tell you Dash," Lightning started, "if I don't help you finish your drinks, I think you're gonna develop a drinking problem."

"Will not. I've been drinking Apple family hard cider for years. A few drinks aren't anything to me. Just because I hold my liquor better than stallions or you doesn't mean I have a problem."

Lightning returned to the doorway, preparing to step out. "Yeah, yeah. Luna knows what'll happen when something drastic happens then. Bet you'll end up selling your entire Daring Do collection just to get enough money to get yourself drunk."

"Uh-huh. Like I'd ever consider doing that." Rainbow took a quick look at a small box filled with books, each one signed with the author's signature. "One of the best birthday gifts a friend ever gave me." The pegasus adjusted her sleeves and walked over to her wingpony. "We're on escort duty today, right?"

"Roger that, Major. Let's get something to eat."

<<+>>

0719 Hours

"Alright, Lightning, think today will be your day?" Rainbow teased with a grin. "'Cause I don't think so."

"Don't get your hopes up," Lightning replied. "You're only one ahead."

The two pegasi were among other pilots walking to their aircraft, mechanics making final tunings and checks, and armorers loading ammunition. The brisk, cool September air was a sensation on their wings, though they each hoped that they would not have to use them later.

"Well, better observational skills help," said Rainbow, continuing the friendly banter. "Besides, two more for me, and I make quadruple ace."

"Yeah, yeah. We'll see."

Rainbow and Lightning turned to their right, walking between two aircraft. Just like all of the others lined up, they were North Amareican P-51D Mustangs, the finest in Amareican engineering. And to keep great Amareican engineering in top shape were great mechanics.

"Hey there Rainbow Dash! Lightning Dust! How are you two doing this morning?"

"Just fine Derpy," Rainbow replied to Ditzy Doo, currently finishing up some tuning on one of the Mustangs.

"Hey Ditz, is she ready to go?" Lightning asked as the gray mare closed the blue cowling over the engine she was working on. It was Packherd V-1650-7, derived from the Braytish-origin Marelin engine. No doubt the combination of airframe and engine contributed to the success of the Mustang, which most pegasi felt flew as good as themselves and their own feathered wings.

"Yup! Engine's all tuned up and ready for another flight," Ditzy proclaimed as she slowly flew down from her spot, flipping an eyepatch off of her right eye. "... And for once, can you try flying like a pilot with self-preservation instinct up there? I wouldn't have to be up all night fixing the engine if I didn't have to fix everything else," she said in an unamused tone once she stood eye to eye, or rather sort of eye to eye, with Lightning. "A few days is barely enough to repair the kinds of battle damage you bring home you know!"

"But Ditz, I gotta make quadruple ace today!" Lightning jokingly boasted.

"And Rainbow's ahead you without turning her plane into a flying cheese grater!" Ditzy exclaimed, still with a serious demeanor.

"Well you know how those Prench grate on me," replied Lightning. "Now I could skin those ponies and give them backbones."

Rainbow couldn't help but roll her eyes and smile. Her wingpony's attitude grated on her at times. Yet, despite their very rough start, after a while they became very good friends, forged by fire and tested by time. A sense of humor, even when crude at times, was good for keeping heads straight and spirits in check.

"Okay, come on, Lightning," Rainbow said as she flew up to the cockpit of her Mustang. "Let's get on the runway.

"Aye aye, Major. Lead the way," Lightning responded as she climbed into her own plane. "And Ditz—I'll try not to fly through any exploding planes today, 'kay? Really—I had no clue that guy's wing would tear off and fly back to me!"

Ditzy sighed. "Stay safe, you two."

Once Rainbow was settled into her seat, she started the engine and inched the throttle forward, beginning her way to the runway. She waved to Ditzy as she passed by, with the gray pegasus waving back with a smile.

The two taxied into position, Lightning stopping off to her right and behind. A third plane joined them after a minute.

"Major, Sergeant Rumble reporting," the young stallion announced over the radio.

"Hey Rumble," Rainbow greeted. "... Where's your brother?"

"Come on Dash," said Lightning. "We can't all be here at the same time. Remember—the lightning always arrives before the thunder."

The other two pilots rolled their eyes. They continued waiting while idled on the runway. Other Mustangs piled up behind them, awaiting the same signal for the go-ahead.

After what seemed like a minute or two, another voice joined in. "Hey—this is 2nd Lieutenant Thunderlane reporting in. Sorry for being a bit late, Major—did I miss anything?"

"Yeah," answered Rumble. "A real gem from Dust."

"What's the rule again—one second is one mile?" Lightning joked. "Guess we got a storm 120 miles away."

"Um... What?" Thunderlane said blankly.

"Seeing that the Lieutenant's already given her version of a good morning to you too, what was the hold up?" Rainbow asked, having a brief flashback to her own first few seconds awake that morning.

"Engine starting problems. Would you believe it? Because I sure can't."

"You can't blame the plane when you've had start-up problems yourself, right, bro?" said the younger pegasus.

"Hey, shut up. Last I checked, I'm married, you're not."

"Alright, alright, we don't need to hear how pathetic both of your romantic lives are," Rainbow interrupted. "Save it for over drinks later."

Lightning's voice came to their ears. "Careful Rainbow, don't get yourself started this early."

"You shut it too. I don't have a problem."

The signal flare for takeoff appeared shortly afterwards.

<<+>>

Somewhere over the Equlish Channel
0803 Hours

"... Yeah, it was fine," Rainbow replied. She pulled away from the B-17, the three other Mustangs accompanying her falling into place alongside her.

Rarity remembered the times when the sight of a formation of escorting P-51s, or escorts in general, were an incredibly welcome and greatly comforting sight. No longer were they completely at the mercy of Germane interceptors.

"Hey, Rarity—we're sweeping ahead. We'll make sure you don't need to mop anything up."

"Be a good Weather Patrolpony, and deal with any clouds of enemy fighters quickly, will you?"

"Don't worry one bit, Rare. If there's any, I'll have it cleared in ten seconds flat. And if worse comes to worse, we'll be right above you to give cover. Like an umbrella."

<<+>>

"That was Rarity?" Thunderlane asked. "She still on? Tell her I said hi."

"Add me in," Rumble added.

"Sure," said Rainbow. "Hey Rarity, Thunderlane and Rumble say hi."

"Really?" asked a slightly surprised Rarity. "Ah, of course. A pleasure to hear from fellow Ponyvillians. Send them my regards."

"Rarity says she sends her regards," Rainbow told her pilots.

Thunderlane nodded. "Okay."

"So," Rumble started, "you think we might see some of those Germane jets today?"

"I'm hoping not," Rainbow answered. "Those things are just trouble."

"They say they're so fast, all you see of them is the bomber they leave in flames before zooming away. It's like the only reliable way to keep them in your sights is to fly at them head on."

"Take it head on?" Lightning questioned. No way in hell even I would do that. My general rules—if a plane's got lots of guns packed in the nose, you probably don't want to fly at it head on. If it's got cannons, you really don't want to fly at it head on. Those jets have four cannons in their nose that can kill bombers in one pass. Flying with it pointing at you from any direction is just bad news."

"What if... that's the only shot at saving your wingpony?" Rainbow suggested.

"Then I'm gettin' out of the way the second that thing changes targets and starts shooting at me. Come on Rainbow, anypony that doesn't get out of the way is just plain stupid. And anypony that can't get one off their tail is either incompetent or their wingpony is. Or both. It'd be cool to have a jet kill under my belt, but I want to keep my feathers first."

"Ah, so you do have a limit to your suicidal tendencies," joked Rainbow. "I remember the days when you made it a hobby to fly head on at 109s."

"Hey—if I had no choice but to get into a head on pass, I'll even go at Me 109s all day compared to those jets. Those things are nasty bastards that we're lucky the Germanes don't seem to have much of."

"Ugh, imagine trying to fight off a whole squadron of those things from shooting down bombers," Thunderlane wondered out loud.

"Probably die of exhaustion," Lightning randomly answered.

"If they don't get all the bombers first," said Rainbow.

"What a terrible thought. I think I'd rather save the bombers and die of exhaustion."

"Oh really?"

"You're basically the one that taught me that, Dash," Lightning answered. "Remember? The whole 'what's one pony' thing compared to a group of ponies?"

"Yeah... yeah..." It frequently occurred to Rainbow that she was often recognized for her dedication to others if given a chance for personal gain. An endearing quality many admired about her that she did not know where she got it from.

<<+>>

Bomber crews or fighter pilots, they were all in for the long haul, as the trip to Germaney would be long and tense, no matter how many times they had flown it. They were only getting close to two hundred miles flown in the time span of about an hour. Eight hundred miles round trip for this mission, which translated to four to five tense hours in the air.

On a good day.

Comments

[The Grey Pegasus]

How old is this story? That quip about 'no wings' was written more than a year ago, during the whole Twilicorn phase.

[dukesofhazzardftw]

A B-17 has four wings... If you count the vertical stabilizers anyway.