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FiF AAR 10/14


Shnoze Shmon
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It was a good day to start our offensive.  After checking with my meteorological staff I was satisfied that conditions were right for operations.  My flight command staff reported a suitable number of aircraft and pilots were standing by ready to go.  I would have preferred more, but it would have to do.  Now was the time.  I gave the orders to execute the mission.

 

As I strolled out to my ship, breathing in the cool morning air, anticipating the coming action, I was accosted by 70% of my pilots wanting instructions.  They had not bothered to attend the briefing.  So without the aid of those expensive maps and detailed descriptions I did my best to explain what was going on.  And then a few of them, bless their hearts, needed some tips on flying their airplanes.  Like which direction to face when you get in, how to start it, how to tell the difference between a plane with a single seat and one with two.

 

Well, with that confidence enhancement, I set my jaw and soldered on.  We were going to do this.  We were going to succeed.  Now was the time.  We must go!

 

I took off leading a flight 6 strong.  Two crashed on takeoff.  My force was now down one third in strength, but still we soldered on.  Then out of nowhere two more of my flight get zapped into nothingness.  My once mighty aerial armada was now down to one third it's strength not even having seen the enemy.  Still, we soldered on.

 

Then, breaking through on my radio channel, I get the enemy commander!  What the... where did he... how did he?  In great sobs I get this tearful story about how all his planes were stolen, and now he's begging for a truce along the eastern front.  And now my flight commanders were on the channel.  Swelling full of tears they informed me of a similar decimation of our forces.  Begging me to agree to a truce so we could recover from this debacle.

 

My flight, despite drastic losses, was now the ultimate force on the front.  By golly, we would solder on!

 

It was then, that I heard from my meteorologist.  He was in panic.  All those rivers along the front had just crested two feet due to all the crying pilots.  Both sides were in danger of all their ground assets being washed away.  The heavy increase in humidity was threatening the world wide climate.  The mass of all that water was pulling in mighty asteroids.  The sun was threatening a supernova.  This had to be stopped!

 

I put my head down.  I sagged my shoulders.  I let out a great sigh.  Then, finally, with great reluctance,  I uttered the highly desired agreement.  It was over.  I turned my plane for home.  Nothing to do now but finish my taxes.  Tomorrow was the 15th of October.  The extension was over.

 

It was cloudy and dark.  The remaining planes were safely tucked away in their hangars.  And I sat hunched over a desk in the light of a lamp, brooding over forms and figures, sipping coffee, and reconciling myself to the long night. 

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Well no wonder everyone was upset, with you running around with that soldering iron!  Just let the electrical tech make the wire connections on your radio gear. Probably why you could receive the enemy commander, messing with and cross wiring everything.  Darn lucky you didn't set fire to your airplane!

 

S!

 

:P

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