Duty in the clouds (non-contest)

Like the roar of a thousand flies they came, dropping their cargo of woe upon a nation already beset by death. By night the Lancaster's and Stirlings stalked cities lit by fire and by day came the B24's and B17's to end more lives and bring suffering.1

It mattered not to Karl that his foe saw in their actions a just and honourable duty. What mattered was while Berlin and Dresden burned, he had to fight. And fight he did, flying with his comrades on wings of steel, wielding swords of flame to bring down the dragons that invaded Germany's skies.2

And it was with these thoughts in mind that Karl found his squadron amongst the clouds, slowly stalking the enemy squadron. Twenty four silver vultures, bearing a cargo of death for his people. And around the Bombers, like flies circling a herd of cows, flew the fighter escort.3

"Eagle one, to Eagle flight" The squadron leader's voice, distorted by static came to Karl's ears "For the Fuhrer and for the fatherland! Engage!"4

Damn the Fuhrer, Karl said in his mind, it's because of him we are here. But regardless of feelings he banked with his squadron and pounced upon the Enemy. As always the first pass was the easiest, flying hard and fast, cutting across the American squadron's flanks. Karl grinned savagely as he fired, his 109 made a poor interceptor of bombers, but by God she was fast and felt like his own wings.5

Banking hard the squadron split into groups of two as the escorts swarmed angrily up to meet them. Mustangs, like their namesake, fast and strong. Within seconds both squadrons met, a deadly dance above the clouds. Not unlike the first war in heaven as rival angels of war fought bitterly.6

Karl snarled as he saw Otto go down in flames, the poor man had no time to get out as the plane exploded in mid-air. With a death's head grin and a heart full of vengeance, Karl swung around on an American plane. Pressing the trigger he felt his guns fire, and saw streaks of tracers as they impacted the Enemy craft, smiling he saw the plane leak flame and smoke as it's nose dropped and another angel fell.7

Seeing his Comrades engaged and now without a wingman, Karl made for the bombers. weaving and diving he spat fiery death at the invaders. He saw one plane go down, death for it's cargo and pain it's message. But it wasn't enough, it was never enough. And as his ammunition ran out he rejoined his squadron and returned home.8

Angels, fallen or exulted none could tell, returned to land. No time for respite, no time for rest. as they where quickly rearmed and refueled and sent once more into the skies, to fight amongst the clouds.9