Flight

Spinning through the air. Spiraling through the firmament. The sun caught my eye between the clouds, and swung by.

I had done this so long for mere fun that it was difficult to remember this was war.

I can feel the air through the stick and the yaw of my craft. I ride the wind. Five feet to my left my wingman movements matched mine. We were in a vertical climb, attaining the altitude we needed for the mission ahead. We had been assigned to escort a flight of heavy bombers. Why only two of us? Too many bombers, too few fighters.

Plus I suspect that the higher ups had come to realize the abilities of my friend and I. he'd been a farmer before the war, but he took to the air like a...

TAT-TAT-TAT-TAT

Small caliber fire ricocheted off my cockpit and fuselage. We kept in perfect formation.

"Green Beta engage bandits. Repeat, Green Beta engage bandits."

This was it.

I shoved the stick forward and climbed as my wingman rolled left. I had managed to keep an eye on the bandit. He had the white triangle emblem on both wings.

A fellow High Ace. This would be a challenge.

He dove into a cloud bank and I followed.

Suddenly I remembered the old days, playing tag in the clouds with my dad, before the war...