#Flak Battery

[dragongirlbunny]

[captain-price-unofficially]

10.5cm FlaK 38 heavy anti-aircraft gun battery

#wwii #home front

[howtofightwrite]

Hi! I need some advice on how to write battle plans. Like in war and such. I’m also having to come up with terrain for this chapter I’m writing. This is a Star Wars story with two Jedi if that matters. Do you think you can help me?

I'm a bit under the weather right now, so this response is going to be fairly brief. We'll be back to our normal schedule as soon as possible.

The Star Wars part matters a lot. Most science fiction settings have specific considerations that heavily affect how combat encounters play out, and what needs to be considered for planning.

In particular, combat in Star Wars can be roughly broken down into three parts. Space, ground, and characters. The ground and characters being separate groups is somewhat artificial, but it does reflect how the films (and most Star Wars media, for that matter) is written.

Space combat has a lot of considerations and, generally, has a rock, paper, scissors relationship going on. Star Wars tends to split starships into three groups: Capital ships, starfighters, and bombers. This is less consistently illustrated on screen, and tends to be something that exists more in the support material. Basically, capital ships (usually) have heavy flak defenses against incoming fighters. Fighters have a significant maneuverability advantage over bombers, and bombers are (usually) equipped with long range ordinance to deal crippling damage to enemy capital ships. (Beyond that, there are a lot of ships that perform better in their role, or partially step outside of their role.) The resulting structure is that capital ships operate as the heavy firepower supported by starfighters who have the specific job of screening off any incoming bombers. (In the original Trilogy, the TIE Fighters, TIE Interceptors, and TIE Advanced are the Empire's fighters, with the TIE Bombers as their only bomber variety. The Rebels use X-Wings, A-Wings as their starfighters, with the Y-Wings and B-Wings serving as their bombers. If you ever wondered why the sent in Y-Wings on the first trench run, here's your answer.)

Star Destroyers (Imperial-Class, and the Executor SSD), Mon Calamari Star Cruisers (these are noted for not having a standard design pattern, so a lot of the weird globby capital ships in Return of the Jedi are all MonCal Star Cruisers), Corellian Corvettes, and Nebulon-B Frigates cover most of the capital ships you see in the original films.

If you want to expand beyond that, then the original Thrawn Trilogy by Timothy Zahn is a pretty good place to start. Thrawn is a very well written strategist, especiallyin his original outing, and Zahn introduced a lot of strategically interesting mechanics to Star Wars that hadn't been set up in the original films. This included the concept of interdictors which could create an artificial gravity well to force ships out of Hyperspace.

Moving on to ground combat, Star Wars is a setting that's usually pretty good about paying attention to combined arms. Most starfighters and bombers (including all of the ones I mentioned above), are able to provide close air support, and capital ships can provide targeted orbital bombardment (in the case of some larger capital ships, they can obliterate entire cities, and fleets effectively wipe out entire planetary civilizations. Usually the reason not to do this is because the faction in question is unwilling to do so, or the planet has some direct strategic value.) This is on top of a lot of atmospheric only speeders and walkers that exist. Also technology like energy shields which can (in some cases) provide full protection against orbital bombardment, and a heavily fortified planet may have surface-to-space  ion cannons and/or turbolaser batteries, which could make life very interesting for an invading fleet attempting to clear the planet.

A lot of the time, ground combat in Star Wars will either focus on the vehicle combat directly or mix between vehicles and infantry combat. Actually drafting up battle plans in situations like this is going to depend primarily on strategic considerations for where they're fighting. If repulsorlifts don't work on the planet, then T-47 speeders aren't an option, and everyone's restricted to walkers and treadded vehicles. If it's an exceptionally dense urban environment that needs to be taken (mostly) intact, then you're probably looking at normal infantry for a long drawn out campaign, where they're unlikely to use anything heavier than a concussion rifle. If the goal is to simply turn a facility into a crater, you can do that with a few proton bombs fired from a flight of Y-Wings.

It really depends on what you need done.

After that, the films have very strong focus on duels between major characters. Characters (especially Jedi) tend to quickly carve through, or easily evade, any ground units sent after them. If you're a named character in Star Wars, the real danger is another named character, not some random troopers (even if they should pose more of a threat.)

It might be worth digging up a copy of Empire at War. It's an older Star Wars RTS, but a very well made one, which embraces some of the setting's strategic depth, and has enough interesting concepts to get you thinking.

-Starke

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#how to fight write #Starke answers #writing advice #writing reference #writing tips #Star Wars

[salmontheking]

Resolute grunts of the World Liberation Army in summer uniform

All objects to scale.

All infantry wear reactive fiber flak suits to keep them free of holes; filtering balaclavas to keep them breathing through dust, gas and posion fumes; and holographic goggles to enhance vision and improve aim.

Railguns warrant hazard pay to their gunners, as shoulder replacement is only a matter of time. Fortunately fuel cells have now replaced batteries, and these don't leak acid quite as much. They do explode sometimes, but so do many things. The iltehvin43 is the first venture of Lahamot engineering office into arms design, normally known for trains and bikes.

The spotter, aside from guiding the clueless gunner on how and what to shoot and what's going on around them, is also there to change rails. On the Teusha it's not much more involved than with machine gun barrels, but one pair only lasts 10 full power shots, to save weight and budget. Worn rails are supposed to come back home for fixing, but they mysteriously get lost all the time.

The 001 pillgun has barely changed in the past sixty years, but it's now better than ever. Latest neurotronic goggles can simulate the arcing of grenades and new ammo types keep periodically coming out. Specialized frag shells have also returned, since every separatist's mom and uncle can now have a decent flak suit and dual purpose doesn't cut it anymore.

#sci fi art #scifiart #scifi #science fiction #worldbuilding art #worldbuilding #artists on tumblr #Megaton Heart #military #soldier #characterdesign #characterconcept

[msn-04iinightingale]

Dogs of War

The two Leopard Class drop ships broke past the atmospheric friction and heat and into the skies of Helios proper. Already charcoal black, the searing and flames only darkening the crimson patches of each to a rusty bloody red. Had anyone been able to see it, they would have found that fitting.

The aerospace fighters had given them a path to the planet, the rest was up to the drop ship pilots. The Dando and Churchyard plummeted towards their objective, ignoring or weaving between the scattered flak and lasers from the neighboring AAA batteries. Like two black hammers, they descended with grim purpose towards the small city below.

They'd punch down, bloody the Word, and see if they can't clear space for the Fursona's Fusiliers dropships flying with them.

Simple.

Suicidal.

Perfect for Barghest Company.

——-

Commander Owen felt each jump and judder of near misses through the drop ships hull and the body of his mech, the Marauder II swaying and shaking in its restraints. Across from him was the angular visage of Victoria’s Axman, Vance’s Thug and Anya’s Thunderbolt occupying the neighboring berths. In the upper corner of his cockpit, a timer counts down the minutes until they drop.

Another close by boom rattled the drop ship.

Drop: 10:00

Owen keys open the Barghest Company channel. 

“Alright boys and girls, are you ready?”

Drop: 09:00

Seven voices reply with “Yes Sir.”

“Can’t hear you Machwarriors!”

Drop: 08:00

“Yes sir!”

“COME ON, YOU CALL THAT A YES?!”

Drop: 07:00

“YES SIR!” the seven voices scream.

The light in the Mechbay turns red. 

Drop: 06:00

“That’s more like it! And who are we?” He shouts, something bordering excitement creeping into his voice, predatory and keen.

“BARGHEST COMPANY!”

Drop: 05:00

“Damn right we are! And we are going to go down there, sink our teeth into their flesh, and DRAG THEM ALL TO HELL!”

“DRAG THEM ALL TO HELL!”

Drop: 04:00

The doors of the drop ships begin to open with the whine of machinery. The familiar voice comes over the internal speakers, as his mech powers on.

Reactor, Online.

Drop: 03:00

The drop ships slow, the dull bangs and thuds of small arms fire ringing off the hull. The plan had been to drop fast, and get below the arcs of the other AAA emplacements to drop the two lances and then provide close air support as fuel allowed, before braving the trip back to orbit or more likely, linking up with other elements of Touchdown for refueling and rearming. The Blakests below had other ideas, and were mustering everything they could to deal with the new threat of two Leopard drop ships landing in their midst.

Sensores, Online.

Drop: 02:00

A series of rumbling booms signals the drop ships returning fire with LRMS, PPCS, and Lasers. The first rack of LRM rounds are live warheads, ripping apart light tanks and fixed positions in storms of shrapnel and fire. PPC bolts snap out with thunder cracks to strike down heavier vehicles, Large and Medium lasers lancing out to spear clumps of infantry, or rake across those in cover in buildings. The second reload of LRM's are smoke, obscuring the streets and buildings around the landing sites.

Weapons, Online.

Drop: 01:00

His mech rotates, along with the others of his lance, to face to now open door, beyond a hell of swirling smoke, tracer fire and lasers snap and stitch through the air.

All systems nominal.

Drop: 00:00

Owen tilts his head back and howls over the comms, the seven other members of Barghest Company following suit, their radio distorted voices forming a nightmarish call worthy of their namesake, blasted over every available enemy comm line.

Owen slams his controls forward, moving the 100 ton assault mech into motion, and out into the firefight, his seven other mechwarriors following. Dropping the short distance between the ramp and the street below with an earthshaking thud, the two lances immediately moved away from their dropships. The ramps were already closing as the craft start to lift off, volleys of LRMs and laser fire snapping out at targets the mechwarriors couldn't yet see.

The city was a small one, by Inner Sphere standards, but still had plenty of buildings taller than most mechs. It would be a tough fight, city fights always were for mechs, but at least they couldn't bring superior numbers to bear fully just yet. There were reports of enemy Marauders and fixed positions, and rumbling of even a superheavy in the area, plus the Heavy Level II's and any reinforcements the Word sent their way to push them off the dropsite.

A voice came over the Barghest Company comms line, one of the dropship pilots.

"Enemy resistance is light for now, Commander, but we're getting at least a dozen reactor signatures closing rapidly. We'll circle the site and provide air support as we can until the Fusiliers get more boots on the ground. Good luck and good hunting Commander."

In response, Owen raised the right arm of his mech, saluting them as they lifted off.

"Good hunting, flyboys."

"Commander, we've got contacts." It was Maria, he could already hear the thrum of her ER Large Lasers as she engaged a target over the comms. "One Level II, two Assaults, one Heavy, one Medium and one Light."

A pause.

"Make that two Level II's, one closing on your position."

The familiar feral grin split Owen's face. This was it, what he was born for, what his mother raised him to be.

"Garm Lance, form up, we've got guests. Let's show them how we do it in Barghest Company."

Three acknowledgement pings come over his comms as the lance moves forward, clearing the immediate LZ for the rapidly approaching Fursona's Fusiliers dropships.

———

Drop: -05:00

The first enemy mech to die was a Tempest, cockpit spit open by Victoria’s Axman’s hatchet as she lurched from out of the smoke and flame of the wrecked tanks and buildings around the LZ.

"That one was for Mary, you bastards!" She yelled over the comms.

Owen smiled, and laughing over the open comms for the enemy to hear, bringing his twin ER PPCs to bear against a Legacy before it had tome to bring its autocannons to life, feeling the heat spike in his cockpit despite the double heat sinks installed in his mech as the bolts punched through cockpit and pilot with equal ease. Oh what he wouldn’t give to have Katie here for this.

To his left Vance was delivering point blank SRM volleys into the side and back of a Blakist Thug, rippling explosions tearing the side and rear armor of the enemy mech to pieces before the reactor is breached with a dull KRUMP.

"Be at peace, brother." Vance murmered.

Anya's Thunderbolt released another volley of Clan LRMs, and pulse after pulse of laser fire into a Crab, and Mongoose. The Mongoose falls first, unable to withstand the onslaught of LRMs and lasers. The Crab takes longer, large lasers slicing and melting several chunks of armor before being rocked to the side by the impact of a LB-X/20 round. Staggering, the medium mech only just rights itself in time for the combined fire from Anya and Victoria shred the smaller machine.

"Thanks for the assist, Vic." Anya says.

"No worries, gotta get the blushing bride home in one piece, eh?" Chuckles Victoria.

In the next square over, a former parking lot for a now burning warehouse, Maria's Mad Cat, Elenor's Crab, Bill "Billy"'s Archer, and Kei's Stalker gun down the remnants of the first QRF Level II's that engaged them. The last to fall was a Perseus, cored completely by large laser and missile fire.

So far, damage was minimal, with the worst being a faulty leg joint in Vance's Thug, the result of the now burning Word Thug's own SRMs and PPCs. Not bad for a first engagement.

"Good work Barghest Company, we are touching down now and will deploy mechs shortly." It was one of the Fusiliers dropship pilots. "We've got more pings in the city, routing to you and your dropships."

Owen's minimap flashed as new dots peppered it. That was a lot of red to the as of now very little blue. He watched as the two icons indicating the Dando and Churchyard circled the area immediatly surrounding the LZ, and some of the red dots, although not nearly enough for his liking, winked out.

"Oh boy...Barghest company, eyes up, here comes the real fun. Black Dog Lance, form up behind Garm Lance, prepare for volley LRM fire on designated targets. The rest of you, I want at least two mechs for each target. The faster we kill them the faster this ends."

"Let's hunt."

(OOC: tagging @is-the-battlemech-cool-or-not and @combined-arms-merc-groups incase you wanted to add anything now that I have edited this, since we share a landing site.)

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event #oc rp

[underspacegame]

I did mention that battleships will hunt you down if you make a big fucky wucky against mean ole Johnny Law by selling orphans to space cocaine plants and driving on the space highway without a license. 

I’m keeping that promise, capitalships in the game now have proper loadouts full of missile arrays, flak batteries, laser turrets, and beamy beamers to beam at you and blow you out of the sky. It’s what they pay them for after all.

#Underspace #gamedev #video games #game development

[the-clawtake]

Jehan came too with a fit of coughs that would have had him bent double if it weren’t for the four-point harness holding him in the command chair of his Kodiak, and a sensation of overwhelming agony. He shook his head to clear it, hearing dimly a faint clinking or tinkling as he did. That couldn’t be good. The last thing he remembered was a Blakist Highlander. It had gone over the top of the low warehouse. Lacking jump jets, he had gone through it, and...

Oh. Basement. He blinked. Well, at least the roof hadn’t fallen on him. Between the PPC hit earlier in the fight, and the missile volley his cockpit had caught the fringe of, he’d been fighting without a ferroglass canopy; not ideal, but Blakist resistance had been stiffer than had been expected, and while the Capital Grade Particle Cannon that was – had been – the central focus of this AA battery could not depress low enough to engage ground targets, the Missile and Flak batteries could. The Clawtake could not afford to have an Assault ‘Mech withdraw, and so he had stayed. Until he fell.

He glanced at the various readouts, all dark. Nothing showed on the HUD visor of his Neurohelmet. Experimentally, he flipped the ignition toggle. Nothing. Again. Nothing. Well. That was that then, he was out of the fight. He raised his gaze to peer through the hollow gap where his canopy had been. Maybe not as out of the fight as he thought. It appeared some Blakist Purifiers had decided to make sure of the job, and one of them was just turning towards where he was.

Reaching down the side of his chair, he pulled the release on the strap holding his Wolverine. His was the bullpup variant designed for urban fighting – or Mechwarriors who needed something compact in case they had to eject behind the lines. Pulling it to his shoulder with a grunt of pain, he reached back down for a magazine, feeling the markings embossed on the surface until he found the one marked for armour-piercing rounds, slotting it into place with a click. Then he settled back and flicked off the safety.

An armoured claw hooked over the lip of the cockpit, and then a helmet like a grinning skull. Jehan sighted along the barrel and emptied the magazine into the visor as quickly as he could account for the recoil. The first few impacts accomplished nothing beyond making the armoured trooper rear back, but before it had much of a chance to react one of the tungsten-tipped rounds punched through and the huge figure slumped, the tiny hole in it’s helmet oozing red and grey.

Jehan reached for another magazine, reloaded, and then slapped his harness release. Harness loose, he twisted round and disconnected the leads for his neurohelmet and cooling vest. Reaching around behind the chair, he grabbed the survival kit, dragged it loose, and then froze. He recognized that hum. Ducking low, he hunched as close to the floor of his cockpit as he could. The hum gave way to the roar of hyper-velocity flechettes and a ringing in his ears. As the roar gave way, he peeked carefully over the edge of his cockpit. So. His Guardian Angel had a HAG. Good to know. He pulled himself from the cockpit, grimacing as shattered ferroglass scraped his bare legs, and scrambled off the Kodiak, onto the rubble of the collapsed warehouse.

Slipping into some cover, he removed his helmet and vest and dug into the survival kit. The jumpsuit went on first, over the rest of his uniform. Then the belt, with the holster for his Wolverine and a Shrike, and the long-bladed hunting knife. Next was the radio. Twisting the knob till he found the right frequency, he hit transmit.

“Clawtake Units, Clawtake Actual. Sitrep.”

“Aff, Star Colonel.” He breathed a sigh of relief at Rauda’s voice. “Fire Star, three effectives. Striker Star, zero effectives. You are the only ineffective in Battle Star. OpFors in retreat or disabled, no pursuit. Battery reduced.”

“Aff. Request pick up.”

Another voice came in on the channel; Jorge in his Dire Wolf.

“Star Colonel. Suggest rendevouz. I am due east of your position, immediately adjacent to the warehouse.”

It took several minutes for Jehan to get himself out of the basement, and to climb the technican’s ladder to the Dire Wolf’s access hatch, but eventually he settled into the jump seat. Peering over Jorge’s shoulder, he considered the results of the engagement.

The Shadow Cat was a write-off. Something had set off Lasse’s ammunition, and the combination of Inferno and High Explosive warheads meant there was nothing to salvage. Both Stormcrows and the Black Hawk needed either significant repair work or new gyros. The Mist Lynx would probably be fine, once the water was drained. He remembered seeing Shagufta go through the ice trying to outflank the Blakists – She would be fine, her cockpit hadn’t been breached and so she avoided hypothermia and the water was fairly shallow. The Dragonfly was also probably a write-off. It had taken significant damage to both arms, and had been cored by a well-placed gauss slug from the Blakist Highlander.

Tapping Jorge on the shoulder, he waited for the young Warrior’s attention.

“I need a channel to Command.”

“Aff.” a moment later “Channel open.”

“Touchdown Actual? Clawtake. Reporting Battery RANGER reduced. Clawtake at 53% effectiveness. We will require reinforcement or repair before we can further engage Blakist forces.” His piece said, he slumped in his jump seat. There was nothing to do now but wait.

#battletech #mechwarrior #story event #Operation Touchdown

[jaded-falcon]

(1) New Message

Message For: Lady S. Cameron, M. Hazen, H. Lewis, S. Caruso, T. Marten-Steiner, K. Moon, O. McEvedy, Amber, Y. Liming, Rose, R. Harwood [99+ more]

From: [SENDER DOES NOT EXIST]

MESSAGE AS FOLLOWS:

Attached is a summary of Blakist antiaircraft defenses for each landing zone.

Attachment: blake_aaa_lz.txt

(VIRUS SCAN CLEAN)

Open? (Y) (N)

Subject: This report will be focused on antiaircraft defenses near the landing zones of Operation TOUCHDOWN: Gold, Sword, Juno, Utah, and Omaha.

Open? (Y) (N)

Opening file: blake_aaa_lz.txt...

Reporting Operative: "Spirit"

General Overview: Word of Blake antiaircraft defenses on Helios are some of the heaviest ever documented, with a density of roughly one per hundred kilometres, increasing near major population centres and manufacturing sites. Operations to disable the antiair net have so far shown limited success. Any landing made will be made under fire.

Each AAA emplacement consists of a large anti-ship PPC attached to a central "flak tower", surrounded by anti-fighter missile and flak emplacements. Defense against ground attack is lacking, however; frankly, it seems like the Blakists didn't expect anyone to actually make it to the surface.

ALL: AeroSpace fighters based out of Toldare AeroSpace Force Base have been temporarily neutralised due to the cratering of the runway with explosive charges; a BattleMech attack will be conducted approximately thirty minutes before H-Hour in order to ensure enemy AeroSpace presence is limited to negligible.

LZ GOLD: Antiaircraft Battery HAMEL, Antiaircraft Battery SUMER

AAA emplacement HAMEL has been permanently taken offline. Forces should nonetheless watch for fire from SUMER and conduct heavy Suppression of Enemy Air Defense (SEAD) strikes before attempting a landing.

LZ SWORD: Antiaircraft Battery MORRIS, Antiaircraft Battery HILLMAN

While MORRIS and HILLMAN are both operational, both have minimal anti-fighter defences and should prove highly vulnerable to SEAD missions.

LZ JUNO: Antiaircraft Battery MADELEINE, Antiaircraft Battery HERA

MADELEINE and HERA are in the same boat as MORRIS and HILLMAN. Recommend SEAD followed by heavy ground assaults, preferably with fast-moving scout 'Mechs;

LZ UTAH: Antiaircraft Battery HAWK, Antiaircraft Battery ROOSEVELT

AAA emplacements HAWK and ROOSEVELT have both been disabled. Forces dropping on Utah should nonetheless watch for additional Blakist forces and AAA fire from other landing zones.

LZ OMAHA: Antiaircraft Battery HAWK, Antiaircraft Battery BUZZSAW, Antiaircraft Battery RANGER

Forces dropping on Omaha will be facing some of the heaviest AAA fire due to the near-total lack of damage on BATTERY and RANGER, though the destruction of HAWK should give the drop forces a chance. Advise that drop forces attempt to stray closer to UTAH LZ to maximise survival chances.

Message Ends

STOP STOP STOP

#silk hiding steel #battletech #mechwarrior

[workersolidarity]

NATO's Nazi Background

Literally, Hitler's Chief of Staff Adolf Heusinger became the Chairman of the Military Committee for NATO from 1961-1964

Then there's one of Hitler's most infamous German Field Martials Erwin Rommel's Chief of Staff, General Hans Speidel became the Supreme Commander of NATO's Ground Forces in Central Europe from 1957-1963.

And then again from 1971 to 1975 a notorious Luftwaffe Fighter Pilot who even earned the Knights Cross of the Iron Cross, one of Nazi Germany's highest medals of honor, named Johannes Steinhoff became Chairman of NATO's Military Committee.

As if THAT wasn't enough, Johann Von Keilmansegg, who was a General Staff Officer to the High Command of the Wermacht, occupied the position of Commander in Chief of Allied Forces Central Europe from 1967-1968.

A Major in the Wermacht and Group Leader of the Organizational Department of the Supreme Command of the Wermacht from 1943-1945 and a recipient of the Iron Cross named Ernst Ferber was NATO's Commander in Chief of Allied Forces 1973-1975

And NATO's Commander in Chief of Allied Forces Central Europe from 1977-1979 was Franz Joseph Schulze who was a Lieutenant in the reserve and Chief of the 3rd Battery of the Flak Storm Regiment 241 and became a recipient of the Knights Cross of the Iron Cross in 1944.

Another Nazi, Ferdinand von Senger und Etterlin who was a Lieutenant in the 24th Panzer Division in the German 6th Army, a participant in the Battle of Stalingrad, adjutant to Army High Command, of course became NATO's Supreme Commander of Allied Forces Central Europe from 1979 to 1983.

So to make this perfectly clear; the United States who led the creation of NATO with its Allied partners the UK and France, instead of capturing, imprisoning and prosecuting in a War Crimes Tribunal like the Nuremberg Trials this list of Nazi War Criminals, these Western Imperialist Powers chose to put these Nazis in charge of NATO and its Armed Forces.

If you think the NATO of today is any different; that it wouldn't ally itself with Nazis today, like in Ukraine, then you are sorely mistaken.

Here's a couple of links if you have any doubts

Adding this pic:

#nato #nato and nazis #nazis in nato #nato imperialism #nato news #nato facts #us imperialism #imperialism #western imperialism #capitalism #capitalist imperialism #neoliberalism #neoliberal capitalism #socialism #communism #marxism leninism #socialist politics #socialist news #socialist worker #socialist #communist #marxism #marxist leninist #progressive politics #politics #ukraine war #nazis in ukraine #ukrainian nazis #ukraine proxy war #us hegemony

[pinturas-sgm-aviacion]

1945 02 Rover Patrol - Richard Taylor

After D-Day in June 1944, and the capture of Germany's U-Boat bases in northern France, Hitler ordered his remaining fleet, and particularly his submarines, to bases in Norway. Occupied by the Germans since 1940, the Norwegian fjords, with their narrow inlets and steep mountainous backdrops, offered unique protection; however submarines departing and returning to Norway from their oceanic operations immediately attracted the attention of RAF Coastal Command. Operating from two airfields in northern Scotland were the Banff and Dallachy Strike Wings, their sole purpose was to attack all German shipping along the Norwegian coast, and they fought a bitter and dangerous campaign against Hitler's once mighty submarine fleet. Heavily defended by shore batteries, Flak ships with terrible firepower, and marauding Luftwaffe fighters, the Mosquitos and Beaufighters of Coastal Command came under intense fire during almost every sortie they flew. Powered by two big Merlin engines, fastest of these fighter-bombers was the sleek, all-wood highly manoeuvrable two-seat Mosquito. Armed with four 20mm cannon, four .303 Browning machine guns, and with eight 251b solid armour-piercing rockets, this graceful strike aircraft packed a lethal punch. Typically, sorties began in the dark, with pilots flying loose formation at 50 feet across the North Sea, to arrive over the target area at first light. Then, the ever-present barrage of defensive gunfire as pilots hurtled past sheer cliff faces, twisted and turned through narrow sounds, and dived in pursuit of their prey. Suddenly, from the quiet peace of early dawn, the still air was shattered by the roar of Merlins, rockets, gunfire, and explosions, resounding off mountain sides in a deafening cacophony of battle. And within minutes they were gone, leaving a trail of smoke, twisted metal, and another nail in the coffin of the Third Reich. Richard Taylor's painting presents a fine study of a lone Mosquito FB MkVI of 143 Squadron, part of a larger formation of the Banff Strike Wing, high over the Norwegian fjords on an armed rover patrol to seek out enemy surface shipping and submarines, in February 1945. The beauty of the early morning sun, glinting on the snow-covered mountain-tops, contrasts with the menacing job in hand. Bravery, inordinate flying skills, and determination were a prerequisite for the crews of Coastal Strike Command.

#richard taylor

[captain-price-unofficially]

Original color footage of an 8.8cm Flak battery engaging Soviet bombers and claiming one of them circa 1944

#wwii #eastern front #combat footage #aviation

[pinturas-sgm-marina]

1942 08 28 Graf Zeppelin under attack -  Paul Wright

RAF aerial bombardment of Graf Zeppelin on the night of August 27–28, 1942.Despite its potential at sea had it been completed, the British Royal Air Force made only one attempt to sink the German aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin during World War II. In late August 1942, Graf Zeppelin was moored along a wharf in Becken VIII of the Deutsche Werke shipyards at Gdynia, Poland, known as Gotenhafen to the Germans. Around 2000hrs on the evening of August 27, 1942, nine Lancaster bombers (three from No. 106 Squadron and six from No. 97 Squadron), led by Wing Commander Guy Gibson (later to command the Dam Busters Raid), took off from their bases in Britain and headed for Gotenhafen; their target was Graf Zeppelin. Each bomber carried a single 5,500lb (2,268kg) Capital Ship Bomb as well as a new Stabilized Automatic Bomb Sight. Wing Commander Gibson had intended to attack Graf Zeppelin from an altitude of 6,000ft (1828.8m) but when his aircraft arrived in the vicinity of Gotenhafen, they found the target area covered by dense haze. In spite of heavy antiaircraft fire, Gibson’s aircraft circled the target area for an hour until each bomber had made an attack run. Gibson and his crews never saw Graf Zeppelin during the attack due to the cloud cover but some of his aircraft attempted attacks from altitudes between 8,000ft (2438.4m) and 10,0000ft (3,048m) nevertheless. Others made bombing runs against a secondary target, the hulk of the battleship Gneisenau moored along a wharf in Becken V of the yard, after spotting it through gaps in the clouds. No hits were scored on either warship and all of Gibson’s aircraft returned safely to base. This scene shows Graf Zeppelin moored in Becken VIII on the evening of August 27–28, 1942, during Gibson’s raid. German flak crews are firing from 10.5cm Flak 38/39 mobile batteries in the railway yard adjacent to Becken VIII.

[usafphantom2]

In the spring of 1944 Bill and his P-51C “Berlin Express” were near Paris when the scene that is immortalized in the artwork by Len Krenzler of Action Art that leads this article took place. Bill had followed this Bf 109 from the bombers he was escorting when most of the German fighters left. The two planes had been in a running dogfight. The German pilot flew over Paris hoping that the heavy German anti-aircraft artillery would solve his problem and eliminate Overstreet and the “Berlin Express,” though Bill managed to get some hits in at about 1500 feet. The German’s engine was hit, and Bill stayed on his tail braving the intense enemy flak. His desperation undoubtedly growing, the German pilot aimed his plane at the Eiffel Tower and in a surprising maneuver, flew beneath it. Undeterred, Bill followed right behind him, scoring several more hits in the process. The German plane crashed and Bill escaped the heavy flak around Paris by flying low and full throttle over the river until he had cleared the city’s heavy anti-aircraft batteries.

On D-Day, June 6, 1944, Overstreet and his group took off at around 2AM in terrible weather, climbing to about 20,000 feet to get out of the overcast. He recalls it as beautiful when they had finally cleared the clouds, with a bright moon and the sight of all of the aircraft rising from the clouds after their long climb to get above the weather. With all the planes in the air, his wing never did find their assigned flights, so they just formed up in flights of four, knowing that their mission was to get to France and make sure no German fighter planes could interfere with the invasion as well as preventing German reinforcements from being brought up. Their first mission was six hours, then they had to return to base for fuel. His group flew eight missions on the day of the invasion.

June 7th brought a sortie that saw Bill and his mates strafing trains, trucks and military vehicles. On the 10th, more hits on German supply lines were carried out, with attacks on trains, trucks and barges. On the 29th the group’s success continued with Bill knocking out an Fw 190 and with Allied air superiority well established, Bill only used 40 rounds that entire day. General Kepner issued another commendation for the 357th and the 361st Groups, who destroyed 48 enemy aircraft without losing a single bomber.

On August 6, 1944, Overstreet flew his first long distance shuttle mission along with the 357th Fighter Group, which was selected to escort B-17s from the 8th Air Force’s 3rd Bomb Division on a shuttle mission to the Soviet Union. The group rendezvoused with the bombers seventy-five miles northwest of Gydnia, Poland. The group engaged several Me 109s near Gydnia, shooting down two of the German fighters. They regrouped after driving off the rest of the Me 109s and continued to escort the bombers until reaching Kiev. Seven and a half hours after taking off from Leiston, all of the 357th’s P-51s landed at Piryatin.

USAAF B-17 Flying Fortresses and Soviet Air Force Yakovlev Yak-9 fighters share an airfield as aircrews swap stories in 1944.

The group then escorted B-17s to Cracow, Poland, on the 7th and to Foggia, Italy, on the 8th. One thing that wasn’t in short supply in Russia was beet vodka, and not expecting resistance from the Luftwaffe on the group’s one-way mission to Foggia, Overstreet volunteered to trade the .50 caliber ammunition in his Mustang for bottles of vodka and loaded them into his now-empty ammunition bays. During the flight from Russia to Italy, the eminently predictable happened, and Bill’s group ran into some Me 109s on the way. The Mustangs gave chase, scaring one of the 109’s Pilots enough for him to bail out of his plane, and while Bill’s plane was the closest and therefore he could have claimed the kill, but wasn’t comfortable with the idea of bringing down an enemy fighter armed only with vodka. They managed to make it to Italy with both the formation and the vodka intact.

[mcschnuggles]

Regressor!Yosuke headcanons

Also for @stuffkin c:

Easily jealous, stems from his self-esteem issues.

His parents aren't terrible, they just aren't sure how to relate to him. They have high expectations of him, and those expectations have culminated in him Not Telling Them Anything

Teddie is his big brother!! He's always trying to get Yosuke to come out of his shell and have more fun. Sometimes he realizes Yosuke needs to regress before Yosuke does!

Really likes being Yu's older sib (they both regress) but sometimes he wishes he could be the center of attention

Has imprinted on Dojima because he's the only father figure to give him positive attention in a long while

Loves to curl up with his head on people's laps

Has to make sure everyone's eating okay! More than willing to buy people treats, though he doesn't give them the same flak he does when he's big

Easily overstimulated by loud noises, his big headphones are a comfort item for the most part, but he DOES have to make use of them if he's doing really bad

If that happens, his headphones have a little noise reducing switch. It requires batteries, but he's always careful to have spares in his bag

Sometimes after a long day in the TV world he'll just curl up in a big blanket burrito and play his favorite songs

The songs that make him happiest are cheesy pop songs from when he was in grade school

If he's half-tiny while working, he'll always gravitate to the toy aisle without realizing it

Always wants to go to the playground but scared that people would talk about him behind his back for it

#headcanons with snug #persona agere #fandom agere

[pinturas-segunda-guerra-mundial]

1942 08 28 Graf Zeppelin under attack - Paul Wright

RAF aerial bombardment of Graf Zeppelin on the night of August 27–28, 1942.Despite its potential at sea had it been completed, the British Royal Air Force made only one attempt to sink the German aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin during World War II. In late August 1942, Graf Zeppelin was moored along a wharf in Becken VIII of the Deutsche Werke shipyards at Gdynia, Poland, known as Gotenhafen to the Germans. Around 2000hrs on the evening of August 27, 1942, nine Lancaster bombers (three from No. 106 Squadron and six from No. 97 Squadron), led by Wing Commander Guy Gibson (later to command the Dam Busters Raid), took off from their bases in Britain and headed for Gotenhafen; their target was Graf Zeppelin. Each bomber carried a single 5,500lb (2,268kg) Capital Ship Bomb as well as a new Stabilized Automatic Bomb Sight. Wing Commander Gibson had intended to attack Graf Zeppelin from an altitude of 6,000ft (1828.8m) but when his aircraft arrived in the vicinity of Gotenhafen, they found the target area covered by dense haze. In spite of heavy antiaircraft fire, Gibson’s aircraft circled the target area for an hour until each bomber had made an attack run. Gibson and his crews never saw Graf Zeppelin during the attack due to the cloud cover but some of his aircraft attempted attacks from altitudes between 8,000ft (2438.4m) and 10,0000ft (3,048m) nevertheless. Others made bombing runs against a secondary target, the hulk of the battleship Gneisenau moored along a wharf in Becken V of the yard, after spotting it through gaps in the clouds. No hits were scored on either warship and all of Gibson’s aircraft returned safely to base. This scene shows Graf Zeppelin moored in Becken VIII on the evening of August 27–28, 1942, during Gibson’s raid. German flak crews are firing from 10.5cm Flak 38/39 mobile batteries in the railway yard adjacent to Becken VIII.

[thetruearchmagos]

Sea Spray [Part II]

Okay, it's done! This took far too long for what it is, I'm ashamed to say, but I'm happy I did it anyways!

Tagging @lividdreamz @original-writing @theprissythumbelina @athenswrites @muddshadow @sanguine-arena @theskeletonprior @thatndginger

------

"Get down!"

Korporal Helene Voit dove to the ground, ducking behind a low brick wall as the staccato of rifle fire streaked across the narrow avenue. Bullets smashed through the windows of buildings to either side, glass and chips of masonry falling down on the Einfügung Rettung Zerstörung airborne troops already drenched with rain.

Pinned she may have been, she was far enough ahead that it soon it wouldn't matter.

Laying her carbine on the floor, Helene felt at her back and swung around the bulky, six cylinder form of a "thrity mike-mike" launcher. Just peeking out from a break in the wall, she picked out the gunners position, nestled in a bombed out house. Helene took a breath. The gun stopped its song.

"Granate, raus!"

She raised the launcher to her shoulder, and fired.

Her hands were a blur as she pumped the barrel, cycling in the next shell, and the next, until, clicking empty, she dove back into cover.

In an instant, six bursts of flame and shrapnel ripped across the streets, bathing the land in an orange glow as the Stepmorian line was torn to shreds. With a guttural roar half of the platoon poured forth their own volley of lead, while the rest charged forth, bayonets fixed, smashing through the shattered defenders and advancing onwards.

Helene lept to her feet, carbine back in hand as the force rushed up. Leutnant Aurel Kiefer ran across the streets with them, ducking into the late machine gunner's dug out with his signaller in tow.

"Mithalten! We're behind schedule as it is!"

In the distance, the booms like a giant's bellows echoed through the night sky, crashing in tune with thunder. The streams of death that reached out into the sky and plucked the metal birds straight from the air were an unmissable reminder of why they were there.

Helene checked her carbine, and fed her launcher a fresh pack of gifts. Then, she went off to join the killing.

------

"Was zum Teufel! The flak's supposed to be-"

Freidhelm's words were cut off by a massive detonation down far below, a towering plume of fire that could be seen even this far up. In moments, it spread up and down in a line, punctuated here and there by smaller bursts. Junge felt the beginnings of a smile creep up his face at that. As good as his fellow Jagers were at shooting, they weren't worth much against the batteries of rapid firing high velocity cannons, something seen easily enough in the burning carcasses of AL-88s that littered the floor below.

"What is it they say about speaking to soon, eh?"

His only response to to his flight leader was to turn in and pounce on yet another lone Seafoam, its rapidly disintegrating frame Friedhelm's third so far that day. Junge was on his fifth himself, and the skies were noticeably less crowded than they'd been earlier.

His eyes darted about the still cloud-covered sky, finally settlng on a trio of Seafoams making a run for the landing force. They'd made it surprisingly far, but he'd make sure their luck wouldn't last.

"Konrad, we're heading to the beaches. You go low!"

The two aircraft spun on a polished Jescim, wheeling about to face their targets. Konrad swooped downwards, taking to chance to nab his fourth kill with a half second flash of his cannons.

Junge rose back upwards, perched a few hundred feet above his wingman and twice as much back. As the barreled towards their targets, he saw the three planes break off their attack run and shed payloads, instead trying to turn to face them.

"At least they're sticking around for the fight. Leave some for me, danke schön!"

The trio being as brave as they were, when Konrad suddenly veered off to the side they swerved to pursue. The aviator even appeared to cut his speed for a moment, giving them enough of a fleeting hope to catch him that they kept on his tail.

Then, Junge swung out of the sky, pummeling down hard and fast. He pulled his craft around like a dancer, until his reticule found home. Tracers ripped the fliers to shreds, and Junge zoomed past the third before pulling up, while Konrad whirled about to take care of the straggler.

"Gute sch��sse! How much fuel's left in your tank?"

"Enough for a while more, Konrad. Let's keep the Kustebrüchers company, I'm sure they'll appreciate it."

The pair flew over the beaches, taking the time to pass low over the hills and fill what trenches and foxholes weren't already overrun with lead and cannon fire. Already these were few and far between, the Coast Breakers proving their name. It was hardly a bloodless job, bodies littered the shoreline and open sand, lit brilliantly by the by the burning wrecks of dozens of landers and mechs, but so far it was a successful one.

Satisfied with their little intermission, they doubled back inland. The tide of the air battle, already well in their favour, had devolved into an absolute slaughter, with the AWA's pilots left wielding the blade. The sky was practically empty of Seafoams, more dotting the landscape than the air, and most of those seemed to be streaming in a rout back where they came.

Junge's fellow aviators across the skies were in hot pursuit, raring to drive off their foes for good. Festung-Flight was at risk of missing out on some action, and that just wouldn't do.

------

"Achtung!"

The crash of an explosive charge echoed through the dark concrete tunnel and out into the air, bringing with it a plume of dust. The clatter of gunfire rings from within, short bursts of fury, and a minute later Klaus marched out with two Marines in tow, carbine slung over one shoulder and a half bored look on his face.

"Hell, those schweinhund's barely put up a fight! Three live 'uns left in the bunker, Dauchs and Lora'll be tied up with tying them up for a bit."

From her position laid up against a low hill, Adala just about resisted the urge to roll her eyes as she called back.

"Sehr gut, Sarge. Pile up their weapons ahead of the Seestier, and leave the locals for the HMV einzeller when they get their asses off the beaches!"

The salty old man made a noise halfway between a laugh and a cackle, before barking at his two followers to get a damned move on. Similar scenes were taking place up and down the coastside hills and bluffs, the bloody slaughter of the past two hours giving way, as it always would, to an unending collapse of the men who held that first line. The lieutenant found a grim satisfaction in having her particular strongpoints now so much further inland than most, and with only two walking wounded for the platoon's troubles. Those two were stuck pulling gunner duty on their Seestier transport while their predecessors mounted carbines, but no one was too unhappy with the arrangement.

Not perfect, but in times like these it was strange what one find comfort in.

"Ohayō, Lieutenant. Hope we didn't startle you!"

Those words were soon followed by their speaker, a camouflage clad hulk that shot out through the thick bocage beside her and landed on two feet. Marine-Korporal Odila Feldt ducked through the hole made by the new arrival, the beginnings of a smirk on her face quickly being killed off.

"Guten abend, Leutnant. This here is Jōtōsuihei Ose Kei, of the Maiti Armed Forces. Stealthy one, from one of their scouting elements that's held up somewhere forwards. He's got some intel for us."

As she spoke, the Garakuta knelt to the ground, hefting off his pack and resting it on the muddy floor. Ose pulled out a metal box, and a rolled up scroll of waterproof parchment he spread out for view."

"Hai, I do. Your vehicle radio carries a channel to your commanders, but not to us. This does, and you'll need it. We fought off some of their scouting parties, it appears that despite the chaos your ERZ dōshi have sowed, a major counter attack is due in force. I was one among many sent to try and gather aid, and so that is why I am here."

Judging by Odila's pale grimace, Adala knew she was as new to this information as her commander was. Looking around the makeshift stopping point, she could see the Seestier's crew working at their ride like loving parents, while a dozen over of the platoon's Kustenbruchers were at work cleaning their carbines, smoking like a ships funnel, and sharpening the bayonets that not a one of them would look forwards to having to use.

If this messengers words were true, they might very well have to.

It was this moment that Klaus chose to exit the bunker, arms cradling a truly geriatric set of weapons and with four troopers at his back doing the same, all very obviously not much enjoying it.

"Heilige Ellara, why did those devils make such overweight guns--- HEILIGE ELLARA, looks like we've got guests! Entschuldigung, Leutnant, should I send for the bottles and good smokes?"

"Halt den Mund! Something's come up. Maiti troopss further inland say to expect a big counter attack soon, and we're the closest to help."

The moment Adala finished, Klaus's eyes shot up. He bolted infront of the mech and dumped his load at its feet like it was nothing, before leaping in front of the assembled troops and barking every one of the many vulgar cries he knew to drive them to their feet. His four mules raced to follow his tracks, and in seconds the whole makeshift camp was in a whirlwind of activity.

Adala was, once again, reminded of why she asked to keep the old hog along for the ride.

Ose was slightly surprised at the strange display, though he continued with packing up the map and fiddling with the radio. Odila might have been slightly relieved she wasn't in front of the Sergeant herself.

"Leutnant, should we call in with command? This feels like we might be getting a bit ahead of ourselves."

Unfortunately for the young Korporal, Klaus wasn't too busy swearing to make a sailor blush to hear this.

"Ach, nee! We'll send in for reinforcements once we're on the way, but our orders are to keep going and link up anyways. So, Korporal, get on the beast and ready to mo-"

A cascading storm of cracks pierce the sky, a thousand thunderclaps crashing in a single second that washes over the battlefield. Every soul standing ducks into the nearest ditches or the bunker trenchline, and as Adala dives onto the mushy mud floor and pulls her helmet over her head she can hear the screeching howl of freight trains coming through tunnels and running her down.

Then, it catches her. Even in the slim dirt dugout the blasts are terrifying, great balls of fire and shock that seem to lift the world on a giant's shoulders and slam it again back down.

Then, quickly, yet hardly quickly enough, it was over. Silence fell over their little corner of hell. Peering over the parapet, the Leutnant's eyes scan across the scene. The Seestier survived, by some divine intervention no doubt, and by another strange one a disturbingly large amount of shells landed nearer to her than anyone else, falling into empty patches of grass rather than her troopers.

Overall, she's surprised how light they all got off.

Klaus hopped to his feet, darting his head around and counting off the survivors. Only when he shot her a thumbs up and a crazy eyed smile did she start to breath.

"And that, meine lieben kinder, is why I love fighting these bastards! They could't hit a wall from inside the same building, and they forget that it takes more than one shot to kill a Heimatwelter!"

As they both expected, this only brought out a few chuckles. Still, that was enough for now. The two leaders had more pressing concerns, like whatever it was in the sky Ose was busy looking at.

Adala looked up to check. She really didn't like what she saw there.

Again, the sound of the guns echoed from the cloudy skies. That was not entirely unusual. The muzzle flashes, floating in midair like so many twinkling stars, more so.

And that was not the end of this show. Like an elder god coming down amidst the land of mortals, the clouds themselves seem to part in rolling waves for the ghostly, maleovolent apparition that descended through them. Painted blood red and coal black, light and fire rippled along its fat-cigar shaped figure. The fire of batteries of guns loosing shot and brimstone below, the fire of endless streaks of tracers arcing through the sky like the strands of spider silk grasping for prey, and the fire of a dozen fallen angels caught in its web and cast down below in burning heaps.

Klaus, for once, was not laughing.

"Oh, Scheisse..."

------

"... They've got an airship!"

Junge didn't need Konrad's cry to know that, but it helped assure him he hadn't gone insane. Breaking through the heavy clouds, it seemed an impossibly vast thing, its air bag alone so massive it dwarfed his own carrier before it had even been fully revealed. The drone of a dozen massive turbines filled the sky with rabid hornets, while decks upon decks of its lower hull spat out an endless stream of fire that reached out to crush him like it had his comrades, whose burning carcasses he could see falling to the hard ground.

"Abwinken! We ain't putting that thing down with our stuff!"

"Verdammt!"

Still, the pair waved off, climbing high, fast, and away from the leviathan airship. Its endless guns seemed to find the time to squash these little gnats, but swerving and jinking through the storm like madmen they received only a light whiff of shrapnel in return. Finally safe, Junge's hands flew across his intruments, landing on his radio's frequency dial.

"Festung-Flight, this is Festung-Leader! There's an airship in the sky, all signs call-in!"

A haze of crashing static greeted him first, and even Konrad's reply from a hundred feet off his wing was hardly readable. Nothing at all followed, the electronic hum saying more than sheer silence ever could, and with the barest drop of fear seeping into his voice he asked again.

"Festung-Flight, call in. Freidhelm, Adelinde, respond!"

"Festung-Leader, this is Adelinde! Freddie's smoking hard and his radio's out, but I've got hand signals with him. The airship sent us both to scheisse, but we'll make it to the beach to ditch. We're sticking pretty low down, keeping to the big river."

They both knew how optimistic of a plan that was. Craning his neck, he could see swarms of Seafoams swirling in the airship's shadows like shoals of small fish in their mothers safety. Well armed fish, and even the two knocked down warbirds might find that a match.

Konrad had already come to the same conclusion his flight lead had, swerving over to his right wing.

"Sir, I think I see the river they're talking about, off to starboard. Ihre Aufträge?"

Junge banked right as well, mind already counting fuel stocks and ammo counts. He'd make it work.

"Follow me, Konrad. We're going back in."

#my writing #writeblr #original writing #worldbuilding