Abbot clambered stiffly down and looked in awe at the riddled rear fuselage and tail. Clarke, shuddering with cold, joined him on the tarmac.
"I don't know about you Skipper but I was starting to feel persecuted."
Entering the target zone we were bounced by a 110 that raked us badly - Number the port inner caught fire and the Port fin, rudder and tailplane were peppered with shells. His next 2 passes were off the mark due to evasive maneuvers but by the time we got the fire out we were lit up by searchlight and caught some light flak doin further superficial damage to the fuselage and starboard undercart a well as hitting the suit heater for poor old Clarkey.
Wild boar? If he saw us we never saw him Sir. (OOC: 3Low pass - no hits)
When we turned to come home we were caught up by a JU88 - Clarke caught him sneaking up as we dived for warmer altitudes, flamer! Neeeyyoooow Plonk! Score one for us.