//------------------------------// // 21: Operation Arnold // Story: The Jolly Rogers // by lockheed //------------------------------// ~~~~~ 03:00 Hours January 26, 1987 Crystal Heart Aerodrome ~~~~~ I flipped the light switch on the wall of the barracks and saw a couple bodies shift in their bunks. “Come on. Drop your cocks and grab your socks! Off your asses and on your hooves!” I said as I kicked the posts of the bunks and watched the stallions jerk awake. “For the love of Celestia general it’s three in the morning!” “Yeah. And it’s five in the afternoon in Rio but that doesn’t mean I’ve got a margarita does it? Now wake up and get your asses to the briefing room by oh three thirty.” Walking out into the cold winter night I looked up at the moon and the stars. “General!” Looking over to my right I saw a sky blue pegasus walking towards me with her rainbow mane peeking out from under her crusher cap. “Morning Dash. How’s so called ‘greatest flier in Equestria’ doing?” “I’m doing great. I’m guessing you’re the one who changed the course we’re flying on to the target?” “What? There was a change?” “Apparently we’re supposed to come in from the opposite direction. I’m guessing you didn’t give that order did you?” “No. Where’d you hear those orders?” “They were sent to me from Canterlot.” “Interesting. Well, I have to go make sure my crew is up and moving. See you over the target Miss Dash.” I walked away towards the shower hut where a steady line of air crews were waiting in their bath robes for the showers. Walking past them I went inside where I saw my crew standing at the mirrors and the urinals next to them. “Sleep well Major Miller?” “This is a god damn nightmare man! Wake me up at three A.M. and expect me to fly and this is a fucking nightmare.” He said as he tried to comb his hair and not fall asleep. “Nice to see you’re well.” I said before continuing on past him and past the crew at the urinals. “Only one shake of those wangs ladies. Anything more than that constitutes pleasure and we’re not in that business.” “Yes sir.” Walking out the exit, I made my way towards the briefing room only a hundred yards away. In the distance I could see the search lights switch on in Crystal City which was followed by the wail of the base’s sirens a moment later. I looked over towards the runway as a flight of Crystal Empire Spitfires took to the sky. As they flew away I started walking again and I could see the MP standing guard by the door of the briefing room. “Morning sergeant. Need some coffee or anything?” “Sir, you know I’m not supposed to have anything that might distract me while I’m on duty.” “If anybody said anything about it just refer them to me. Now how do you like your coffee?” “Black sir.” “I’ll get someone to fetch it for you.” Walking inside I saw the intelligence officer talking with the base commander in front of the covered map. “Hey fellas. Did you factor in that change from Canterlot?” “Yes sir we did.” The young captain replied as he glanced over at the map on the wall that was covered by an olive colored sheet. “Good, good. Hey, can one of you get me some black coffee?” “Of course. Private!” A young private looked up at the base commander and pushed his glasses up. “Yes sir?” “Go get the general some coffee. Black.” “Right away sir.” The private galloped out of the briefing room and I made my way over to the door where the MP was still standing at attention. “Good god sergeant, stand at ease once in a while.” He seemed to relax a bit and looked over his shoulder at me. “Sir, this room is the most secure room on the base. I’m the only thing standing between any spies and the information in this room.” “Well, there are the guards at the gates so you’re more a second line of defense.” “Hey, I’m here in case one of them fucks up.” “I know sergeant.” I looked down at my watch as the private from earlier came galloping towards me with a cup of coffee. “Black, sir. Just like you asked for.” “Thank you private.” I took the coffee and gave it to the MP. “Here you are sergeant.” “Thank you sir.” He said right before taking a sip of the black liquid. I looked around at the Flying Fortresses on the base as they sat waiting for their air crews. Reaching into my inside coat pocket I grabbed my pack of cigarettes and my lighter. Just as I was about to light a cigarette I heard footsteps coming towards me. Looking to my right I saw Austin tying the tie as his unbuttoned olive colored uniform jacket fluttered behind him in the wind. "Why the fuck do these things always have to be so god damned early?" He asked with a yawn. "Because it's a six hour flight to the target and another six back. We can't attack at night with the bombsites in these Forts. They weren't designed for that." "So we have to get up this fucking early?" "Unless you want to help land a crippled Fort at night, yes." "Fine. So when is the briefing supposed to start again?" "Three thirty. About five minutes from now." I told him as I lit my cigarette. Slowly pilots, navigators, and bombardiers all piled into the briefing room. Walking up into the front row I found my seat with my crew and sat down as the intelligence officer trotted up to the map. Looking around at all the other pilots I saw Rainbow Dash and the other mares watching intently. "Mares and gentlecolts; your target for today," He reached up and pulled down the cover from the map "is Gryphus." The room was suddenly filled by the sound of murmuring as everyone turned to the pony next to them with worry. "Quiet! Quiet everypony." Everyone quieted down and the intelligence officer cleared his throat. "Anyways, your primary target for this mission is to bomb the Federgewicht engine factory and the Schwarz Stahl tank factory directly next to it. The area is heavily defended with 88mm flak guns. We also expect heavy fighter cover over the target. The commander of their fighter force, Lieutenant General Gilda Goldfeather, is expected to be present for this mission so try and shoot down her aircraft if at all possible. Also, we’re offering a five hundred bit bonus for every enemy plane shot down as an incentive for shooting straight. Now on to the rest of the briefing.” ~~~~~ 05:01 Hours January 26, 1987 Crystal Heart Aerodrome ~~~~~ I reached up and grabbed ahold of the edge of the hatchway under the nose of the B-17F. Pulling myself up into the crawl space I hoisted myself up into the cockpit. Climbing into the left seat I looked over at Austin in his flight suit who was looking at me in my flight suit. “Well, one of us is going to have to change.” He said with a small laugh before going back to his checklist. I looked down at my checklist but I looked back up to see Austin waving to a light blue stallion with a dark blue mane. “Who the hell is that?” I asked as I leaned over to get a better view of the stallion. “My boyfriend.” “Oh. Well he looks like a nice guy so good for you.” “He’s amazing. In the kitchen and in the-“ “I don’t need to know!” “I was going to say cockpit. He’s a P-38 pilot. Get your mind out of the gutter.” I shook my head and resumed going over the checklist. Sliding my headphones over my crusher cap I clipped the throat mic on. “Radio check. Bombardier?” “Here sir.” “Navigator?” “Present.” “Top turret?” “Here.” “Radio operator?” “H-h-h-here sir.” He said as he attempted to keep his stutter under control. “Waist gunners?” “Here.” Came the response from the two gunners in the waist and the one who would later be underneath it. “Tail gunner?” “Ready sir.” “All present and accounted for. Beginning engine start up.” I slid back the window to my left and gave a quick wave to the crew chief before shouting “clear prop”. Sticking my hand out I signaled as the left inboard prop started to slowly spin. The engine gave a cough and sputtered before letting out a roar as it came to life. I looked over at the rpm gauge which read out 800. ‘About average.’ Signaling again I watched the crew chief move to the next engine with his fire extinguisher as the left outboard started up. When it had turned over I watched Austin signal as the right engines started up. Behind us the drone of other bombers was present as I slowly pushed the two middle throttles forward. The two inboards growled louder in response and I felt the bomber slowly start to roll. As we gained speed I could hear the next Flying Fort in line powering up behind us. Soon the aerodrome sounded like a hive of angry bees while the bombers rolled towards the runway like a gaggle of geese towards a pond. As we got to the turn on the taxiway I pulled the left throttles back and gently pushed the right ones forward. The bomber spun to face the runway and I pushed the left throttles forward again. Turning onto the runway I looked over at the control tower as we rolled to a stop. I saw a green flare from the edge of the tower rise high into the midnight blue sky as the flaps lowered to takeoff position. “Let’s go.” I said as I slid my window shut. Slowly pushing the throttles forward I felt the bomber shaking as we began to roll down the runway. “Austin, read out speed.” “Sixty five!” I could feel the tail of the bomber getting lighter as we roared down the runway. “Eighty!” The tail lifted off the runway and now I could see the end of the runway fast approaching in the windscreen. “One hundred!” The bomber began to skip on the runway like a rock over water. “One fifteen!” Pulling back on the controls I felt the bomber takeoff as gracefully as a crippled goose and kept it under control while the flight engineer cycled the landing gear. We banked right to circle the aerodrome until the rest of the bombers with the 91st Bomb Group could take off. ~~~~~ 10:00 Hours The skies over Prance near the Griffin Empire Boarder ~~~~~ “This Natzi country boys. Keep your eyes peeled for enemy fighters.” A voice said from the formation of bombers with the 398th Bomb Group. “You mean Nazi?” A young voice asked, the stallion obviously not over age twenty. “That’s what I said, Natzi.” “Nazi.” “Natzi.” The exchange continued for several more minutes, much to the amusement of everyone else in the formation of fifteen hundred bombers. Looking down at the altimeter I watched it roll passed twenty thousand feet and I could already see some steam beginning to roll off of my exposed hand. To my right Austin was continually looking out his windows to make sure we were staying a good distance away from the bombers to our right side. I looked out the window to my left and I could see the Ponyville Belle and a red pony in the pilot’s seat. Looking back out the left windscreen I saw uninterrupted blue sky and glances of the countryside through the occasion break in the clouds below us. Above us, a P-38 kept watch and we made sure to keep a good eye on him. “Rendezvous with red tails in one minute.” We looked around for the early model P-51s and soon I spotted little red fins poking through the cloud cover like a school of sharks on the hunt. Slowly they rose through the cloud layer and the P-38s broke away for home. As I watched the Lightnings fly away a Mustang pulled up alongside us inverted. As I watched the Mustang I saw the cyan pilot give a wave before rolling upright. “How you feelin’ Dash?” “I’m fine as wine. How’s things over there in your world?” “Cold as fuck.” “That’s the nice part about these Mustangs. Exhaust blows right into the cockpit. Heats itself.” “Until you black out and crash. Knew a guy who did that.” “I’ll be fine.” “Alright. Whatever you say.” ~~~~~ 10:59 Hours Approaching Gryphus Heading 215 ~~~~~ I looked out ahead of us and saw several black puffs appear nearly level with us. My hands gripped the wheel tighter as the sky began to turn black with flak. “I thought it was supposed to be light on the way in?!” Someone said over the radio. I looked to my left in time to see a burst nearly tear the right stabilizer off Ponyville Belle but she continued to fly on. The bomber shuddered with every near miss and I could hear the shell fragments slicing into and ricocheting off the bomber’s skin. Ahead I saw a couple dozen black specks appear from the clouds. “Bandits at 12 o’clock!” “More on our six!” The tail gunner called back. “More at our three and nine! Sweet Celestia, they’re everywhere!” The waist gunners yelled out as I felt the slight shudder of the waist guns firing. The flight engineer climbed into the top turret and swung it around until the guns were aimed forward. The cockpit began to rattle as the top turret opened fire on the fighters ahead of us. Around us the Mustangs went to work as we continued to fly towards the target. “All aircraft, open bomb bay doors!” The bombardier shouted and the clunk of the bomb bay doors drowned out the sound of the guns for a split second. The flak continued to get thicker as we flew on. Ahead of us I saw the enemy fighters open fire, their guns looking like flashbulbs on their noses. I saw the tracers zip past us but none hit. The fighters scattered in all directions to avoid a collision with us and the gunners opened up on any fighter they saw. “Yodelin' Jive is hit!” I looked out my window and saw a Fort tumbling towards the ground in two pieces, neatly dissected by a flak burst. Looking back up I continued to steer the bomber through the flak. Just as I was about to look down at the instrument panel I felt the bomber shudder and an explosion. Looking out the left window I saw the outboard engine on fire and the prop wind milling out of control as an enemy fighter banked away. “Feather the prop and flip the extinguisher!” Austin went to work trying to feather the prop while I flipped the trigger for the left outboard fire extinguisher. Looking back out the window I saw the fire was slowly dying out but the prop continued to wind mill. “I said feather the prop god damn it!” “I did!” By now the hub was glowing red hot. And then, right before my eyes, the prop broke away. It flew under the wing and out of sight but the tail gunner soon called up “a prop just took out A Bushel and a Peck”. I turned back around in my seat as we neared the target. “Release on my mark! In three, two, one…bombs away!” The bombardier called out over the radio. The bomber jerked upwards as the bomb load screamed towards its target. We flew onward but just as it looked as though we might make it through the flak fairly unscathed the bomber jerked up at least twenty meters and I felt a stinging in the right side of my face. As the bomber settled again I felt air rushing into the cockpit and looked over to my right. The front right corner of the cockpit was blown open and Austin was slumped over in his seat unconscious. “Sergeant major, take the controls!” I unbuckled and the top turret gunner took my place in the left seat. I unbuckled Austin’s straps and pulled him back and laid him on the floor behind the pilot seats. “Get the radio man up here!” I yelled to the sergeant major in the left seat and a few moments later the wooden door to the bomb bay swung open. “Dear gods!” The radio operator exclaimed as he turned to throw his guts up out the still open bomb bay doors. When he had recovered he carefully stepped inside. I propped Austin’s head up and looked over at him in desperation. “Do something for fucks sake! Save him!” I yelled as I finally began to process the severity of Austin’s injuries. I felt something oozing out onto my hand that was holding his head up and I could see a pool of blood forming underneath. “Help him!” “General, I can’t.” “Bullshit! You’re a unicorn, use your magic!” “Not even magic can help him now sir. I’m afraid it’s just a matter of time.” I looked down at the blood spattered and cut face of my best friend. The man who had been like my brother. “Do something! At least try!” “Sir, I can’t. I can’t stich a brain injury like I can with a shrapnel wound.” “Just try! He can’t die!” “Sir, he’s too far beyond help.” He replied in the gentlest voice he could muster. I reached up and grabbed him by the throat with my free hand. “Either you try or I throw you out that god damned bomb bay. Your choice.” He quickly went to work with every relevant medical spell he knew but to no avail. I continued to watch Austin’s face grow paler as the pool of blood under him grew bigger. As my hope for help died, I watched Austin breath out one last time and the radio operator removed his flak helmet in respect. “I’m sorry sir.” I gently set Austin’s head down and stood up. Wiping away any tears and blood on my face with my clean hand I made my way back to the left seat. “Sir, perhaps it’s best if the sergeant major flies the rest of the way.” “No. I’m flying this thing home. Even if it’s the last fucking thing I do.” Sliding into the seat, I grabbed hold of the wheel and felt something in my right hand squish as I grabbed on. Not even looking down at it I continued to fly onwards with the occasional glance at the now empty seat. ‘I shouldn't have let him come. This is the most dangerous mission yet. He wasn't even on Doolittle. I shouldn't have let him fly this!’ I slammed my right hand on the dashboard as I slipped on my oxygen back on with my left. Less than five minutes had passed since the flak burst and the flak only continued to grow thicker. The bomber jerked up again and I could hear the chaos in the tail. “Pilot to radio operator, what the hell is going on back there?!” “Sir, a shell exploded near the tail!” He replied. “I’m-I’m afraid we’ve lost another.” “Find a spot for him. How bad are the others?” “Well the two waist gunners are out of action to say the least.” “Ball turret?” “Gone sir. He’s the one we lost. I’m lucky to be alive after that burst!” “Take care of them. I’m not losing anymore crew!” I glanced down at the smashed instrument panel and the few remaining instruments that were still operational, and the blood spattered on them. I gently reached down and wiped the blood off them as the flak began to die down. As I looked up I noticed something out of the corner of my eye. Looking over to my left I saw a BF-109 flying alongside of us with a human pilot. He gave a wave in my direction and I heard the top turret spin around. “Don’t fire.” I said as I watched the 109 sit alongside us. “Has anyone seen this 109 fire his weapons?” “No sir.” A voice replied. “Same goes for the one on your other wing.” I looked over to the right wing where a 109 with a bright yellow nose flew steady with us. Above us I saw a Mustang diving for the yellow nosed 109. “Do not fire on the two 109s unless fired upon!” The Mustang pulled up and circled around to fly next to the yellow nosed 109. Looking back at the body on the floor I felt the emotions coming back. Turning back around I choked back the stinging lump in my throat and readjusted myself in the seat. ~~~~~ 17:12 Hours Over the Crystal Empire ~~~~~ The sun was sinking in the sky just off the right side of the bomber’s nose. The Bf-109s had managed to stick with us thanks to the special longer range drop tanks fitted under them. We were now flying level at two thousand feet over the snow covered fields of the Crystal Empire as Crystal Heart Aerodrome appeared on the horizon. As we began to drop altitude I got more bad news that day. “Sir, hydraulic pressure for the landing gear is zero. We’re gonna have to belly land.” The flight engineer said as he looked over my shoulder at the aerodrome ahead. “Tell the crew to brace for impact and possibly prepare to bail out.” “Yes sir.” He climbed down to the nose compartment then back to the tail a minute later. “Tower, this is Red Leader. We’ve got no gear and two defectors. Tell the AA gunners to not, I repeat not, to fire on the 109s.” “Roger that Red Leader. We’re telling the gunners to hold their fire. We’ll have the fire wagon and the Band-Aid buggy waiting for you. Land in the snow next to the runway.” “Roger that.” I banked left and the 109s banked to stay on my wings. I leveled out for a moment before banking right to line up with the landing spot. The flight engineer reached over and lowered the flaps a bit and I saw the 109s do the same out of the corner of my eyes. As we approached the aerodrome I could see the fire wagon and ambulance waiting for us. The flight engineer lowered more flaps as we got lower and closer. Soon we were kicking up snow as we flew along just above the ground. I saw the 109s belly land short of our spot and I pulled back on the throttles as we crossed over the taxiway. The bomber gently set down in the snow and skidded to a stop. Unbuckling from my seat I got up and stopped next to Austin. Bending over I grabbed ahold of him under his arms and dragged him across the narrow catwalk in the bomb bay into the tail. As I went to step out of the radio compartment I fell and was met by a face full of snow. “General? Are you alright?” I looked up at the voice and I saw the MP from that morning. “I’m fine.” “Are you sure sir?” He asked as medics brought in a stretcher for Austin. “I’m sure.” We followed the medics out the rear door of the bomber and watched them load Austin in the back of the ambulance. “I’m sorry sir.” “Why? He’s not dead. He can’t be. I don’t trust that unicorn.” I said as I wiped dried greyish colored gunk off my hand on the bomber. The MP looked back at the chunks that were stuck to the plane and then back up at me with sorrow. “What’s wrong?” “Nothing sir. Maybe you should go talk to the doctors sir.” I nodded and walked towards the medical ward which was now buzzing with activity. As I stepped inside the hospital I was met by a light grey stallion in a white nurse’s uniform. “Can I help you?” “Maybe. I’m looking for Major Austin Miller. He came in with a head wound.” He flipped through the papers on his clipboard and pointed towards the back. I walked to the back of the hospital where a doctor was sitting at his desk with a book in his magic. He looked up at the sound of my boots on the tile floor and set the book down. “Can I help you general?” “I’m looking for Major Austin Miller.” He sighed and let me through a swinging door to a dimly lit room that was as cold as outside. I looked around at all the silver drawers and stopped as the doctor pulled out a larger on than the others. When the drawer was all the way out I looked down at Austin who was covered only with a sheet. “We’re going to have him flown to Canterlot to be interred in the military cemetery there.” He said as he slid the door shut again. “Do you know of any spouses or someone who needs to be informed?” I nodded yes as I thought about the fact that my best friend, the person who had been through everything with me, was actually dead. My stomach felt twisted and I was on the verge of vomiting as I made my way out of the hospital. Stepping outside I looked up to see a B-17 flying overhead before I slid down the exterior wall of the hospital. As I sat in the snow I thought about the winter during my junior year of high school. ~~~~~ December 8, 1967 Waverly, Illinois ~~~~~ “Here.” Austin said as we walked down the snow covered street. In his hand was a small, narrow box which I took as I pulled my coat tighter around me. I opened the box and pulled out the knife inside. “What’s this?” “A birthday gift. Don’t tell me you forgot your birthday again.” He said looking over at me. “No. I just didn’t expect any gifts from anyone, that’s all.” I replied as I looked over the knife. “I got it engraved to match the pins on your coat.” He said as he pointed to the pins on the shoulders of my overcoat. “Honor and Country. Thanks man.” I said as I put the knife in my pocket. ~~~~~ January 26, 1987 Crystal Heart Aerodrome ~~~~~ I smiled as I looked over the knife I held in my hand. The blade caught the last glimpses of sunlight in the sky and reflected them against the wall of the hospital. As I put the knife back in its sheath I wiped away the tears which were running down my face. I took a deep breath in and tasted the saltiness of a tear I had missed. Looking up I saw the light blue pegasus stallion from that morning talking with another pilot. Getting up I brushed myself off and straightened my cap. Walking over to him I saw Lieutenant Colonel pins on his uniform. As I got close to him I saw him snap to attention and salute me. “Are you Major Austin Miller’s coltfriend?” “Yeah.” He said as he looked up at me. “I’m Major General James Jones. His best friend.” “Oh yeah! He’s mentioned you before. I’m Soarin.” He said as he extended his hoof. I gently shook it and he looked at me oddly. “Is something wrong?” “I think you should sit down.” I said as I motioned to the empty mess hall behind him. We walked over to the unlocked doors and I allowed him to go first. He sat down at the first table and I sat down next to him. “Is there something you need to tell me?” “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. But, Austin passed away during the return flight from Gryphus. Flak hit the front of the cockpit and he was killed.” Soarin looked over at me in a seeming state of shock. “I’m sorry Soarin. They’re flying him to Canterlot to bury him. Since you’re his coltfriend I would like to ask you to lead the fly over of the funeral.” “Of course.” He said as he reached for a napkin to wipe his eyes. “Of course I will.” ~~~~~ January 30, 1987 Canterlot, Equestria Over Equestrian National Cemetery ~~~~~ The casket was slowly lowered into the ground as twenty one aircraft of the R.E.A.F. flew overhead, led by an olive and grey P-38. I looked down at the funeral below and said a small goodbye from the left seat of the brand new B-17G prototype at the center of the formation. As we flew out of the area over the cemetery I watched the other aircraft break away from the formation. I turned the wheel of the bomber and looked to my left for Celestine Airbase. In the right seat a dark grey pegasus stallion watched the interment panel. I saw the airbase come into view and leveled out to enter the pattern. “Celestine Tower, this is Air Force 3-0-0, request full stop on active runway.” “Air Force 3-0-0, fly left downwind, runway 1-8 Left. Number three for landing.” “Runway 1-8 Left for Air Force 3-0-0.” We entered the traffic pattern and kept an eye out for any stray aircraft. As we banked left to land I watched the P-40 in front of us try to line up with the runway but he aborted as a sudden wind gust pushed his plane off course. Our bomber flew through the gust with barely any movement as we brought it in on final. “Wait, weren’t there two planes ahead of us?” The copilot asked as he watched the P-40 bank away. Just as I was about to answer him I saw a blue and yellow PT-17 pull up and allowed us to pass under him. The copilot and I looked through the roof windows and saw the little biplane disappear from sight before returning our attention to the runway. We pulled back on the controls and I reduced power as we got over the runway. We dropped with a gentle bump and the tail soon dropped onto the runway. We taxied to a remote part of the airbase and shut down the bomber. As I lowered myself from the hatch in the nose I heard hoofsteps approaching me. I turned around to see a white colored mare with a light and dark blue mane. “Commanding General Jones?” “It’s Major General Jones. I told the princesses I no longer wish to accept the position.” I told her as I reached up and wiped a smudge off the polished skin of the B-17 with my sleeve. “So who are you?” “I work for the Royal Sisters.” “I kinda figured. So what shitty-ass mission are they sending me on this time?” “Actually it’s outside of Appaloosa at Area 13. They need you as a test pilot for some new planes.” She said as she pulled a folder from her saddlebag. I took the folder from her and I flipped through the pictures inside. “And these are already built?” “Yes sir. The princesses have requested you be the test pilot of the aircraft.” “What’s the catch?” “Catch?” “What strings are attached to this job?” “All they ask is you help with the job at hoof.” “Fine. But if there are three more stars attached to this then I don’t want any part of this.” I told her as I handed here the folder back. “The mission for those stars got my friend killed. I’m never risking that again.” “I understand sir.” She replied before walking away for a black staff car. I looked back up at the silver bomber and sighed. ‘What the fuck have I managed to get into here?’