#F-22 Pilot

[nocternalrandomness]

F-22 Pilot Capt. Nichole "FIRE" Bahlman from the Air National Guard 199th FS at Hickam AFB, Hawaii

[thatsrightice]

From your reply to my ask:

Whomst has summoned the avgeek—

I don’t want you to cry, but favorite commercial and military aircraft?

Also: I am in complete agreement—Ice fighting off FIVE MiGs was so cool, badass and hot.

Okokokokokok I needed a sec to run around and scream but I’m ok

Airplanes are amazing and I love them. Every time I see one or am on one I literally can’t stop smiling. Its impossible not to.

Let’s start commercial; so my favorite is a bit more private than commercial but I have a soft spot for Gulfstream because I may or may not work there. You can call me biased, but with windows that are EVENLY spread so each seat has a perfect window view not to mention the INSANELY HUGE windows, it’s hard not to love. I specifically enjoy the G650 model for more biased reasons.

Like come on! I always get window seats flying commercial but half the time the windows are like out of reach or basically behind me so these windows are incredibly cool to me. Did I mention they’re 28” wide? Insane.

———

Favorite military plane is a LOT harder but I do love the F-22 Raptor. When I saw the F-22 twilight demo at EAA for the first time I immediately fell in love with it. It was the first airplane I genuinely held above the rest. I had always loved aviation but it made me fall in love all over again, nothing compares to hearing the crackle of the afterburner as it streaks across the sky I get goosebumps every time. Genuinely an amazing aircraft, one of the best if not the best ever produced. Here, have this pic I took after a pilot flew a demo and no he’s not flipping off the camera I promise :)

F-14 Tomcat is always up there for sure. I love reading stories and listening to podcast episodes from the people who flew them. A big part of my interest in them, beside the movie Top Gun, is the shear amount of ISSUES they had! Like literal death traps at times 💀💀💀 To put it crudely (and probably incorrectly just know there’s some truth to it), you couldn’t change your airspeed while doing maneuvers without the compressor stalling, the hydraulic issues, the TF-30 engine throwing fan blades that would literally tear apart the engine to pieces, did I mention the extremely common compressor stall?, the occasional flap slat disconnect issues, I could go on forever. It’s such a humbling aspect of the jet that not many people know about. The fact that it’s a two-seater is also so cool cause it’s becoming less common in newer aircraft (I’m looking at you F-35).

[indynerdgirl]

I saw an open tag on one of these (though I can't remember who it was 🫣) and thought this one looked fun!

Judge me based on my: lockscreen, homescreen, Pinterest board, and the last song I listened to!

Tagging anyone who wants to share! ☺️

[caboosie]

I talked to a recruiter yesterday ❤️

[joelslegalwhre]

drunk confessions

word count // 2.056k

pairing // jake “hangman” seresin x f!bradshaw!reader

summary // You’ve had enough of hiding your relationship with Jake, so you drink yourself a little courage and just screw it

warnings // established relationship. (slightly)drunk!reader, mentions of alcohol, lightweight reader, nicknames for reader (bubbles, sweetheart, etc.), Bradley is in big brother mode, the mission I mentioned isn’t from the film, the pilots still live in their own apartments (all near the base) for this fic, soft!hangman (that man alone is a warning but him being soft???), affectionate Jake and a ton of fluff

a/n // This is the new version of "drunk confessions" from '22! I just changed the wording a little, but nothing of the plot has changed. I loved writing this two years ago and if anyone wants more Hangman, don't worry I have more to come because same haha Thanks to @saradika-graphics for the beautiful dividers ❀

(as always, please tell me if I missed a warning)

Masterlist

You and Jake started dating almost a year ago when Bradley and him were together at Top Gun. 

Rooster and Hangman had never been the best of friends, everyone knew that, so it was never the right moment to tell him about the two of you. The risk of Bradley being angry or perhaps even disappointed was too big. At least that’s what you thought. 

Jake understood why you didn’t want anyone to know. And although he’d love to just scream it out into the world, that he was dating the younger Bradshaw, that he was without a doubt the luckiest man on fucking earth, he respected your decision. 

Jake knew that you’d do the same for him without a question.

You wanted to tell Bradley eventually, just right now wasn’t the right time. But the real question is, when was it really? 

Jake had a hard time keeping away from you whenever you were at the Hard Deck with the team. You mostly spent your time at the bar with Penny, to keep her company and to catch up with the latest news - often involving your godfather. 

She and Maverick were so obvious sometimes it made you chuckle, but you really hoped he wouldn’t let her down this time. But Amelia and you would ensure that. 

From your seat at the bar, you also had a perfect sight at the pool table. A lame excuse to stare at a certain blonde pilot all night. 

Jake would always be the first to voluntarily get a new round of beers for the group, and no one complained about it. They were all so caught up in what they were doing, that no one noticed how he eyed you all night, ready to be by your side in seconds if anyone were to bother you. 

-

“Hey Penny, sweetheart. Another round please!” he gave her a wink and shot her one of his handsome grins. Penny nodded with a smile in return and turned around to get seven cold beers for the young pilots. 

“You look smokin’ hot, baby.” he whispered to you as his bright eyes met yours. They had this glow in them every time he looked at you. 

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Seresin.” you teased him with a wink. 

“I can do way more than look good. Whatever you want, Bradshaw.” he grinned while his hand secretly found yours on the bartop, his broad frame shielding it from preying eyes. 

You chuckled lightly, “Oh really?”

“Oh yeah, babe. You better wait for me when everyone’s gone. I need to take ya home with me.” he flirted shamelessly in his southern accent you loved so much. Jake knew you’d do exactly that anyway, since you basically lived at his apartment at this point, but where would be the fun?

-

Not even Phoenix knew about the two of you, so you could say both Hangman and yourself did a rather good job. 

This time was different though. 

They were all going to meet up at the Hard Deck tonight, for another night of pool, darts and what not. The next mission was in less than a week, and you just wanted to spend as much time with Jake as possible. Just like he wanted to with you. 

Jake hated to keep his hands by himself when you were just a few feet away, playing darts with Fanboy or Bob. You never hid from them, after all, Rooster was your older brother. If you weren’t talking to Penny, you spent your nights with them, laughing, drinking and chatting. 

Not tonight… tonight would be different.

You met Penny at the bar in the late afternoon, to help her get everything ready before the first guests would come in. Amelia was staying at a friend’s house, so you gladly took over her part. 

When everything was ready for the Hard Deck to open, you sat down at your regula seat at the bar. 

Penny looked at you from the side while she turned on the lights underneath the bar. “Can I get you anything?” She asked, a hint of worry in her voice. 

“Can I get a beer?”

“Sure, sweetie.” Penny smiled gently. She put the bottle down in front of you, and you took a large sip. 

“So,“ Penny started, putting her hands on the bar, arms on each side of your beer. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart? You’ve been out of it today.“ You looked up at her, and she had this look on her face that gave you so much comfort. You knew you could tell her everything and she’d keep it safe. 

„I… I’ve been thinking about…„ Yeah, what exactly was it that you thought about ever since opening your eyes today? 

You didn’t even know. Not really. 

You thought about telling Bradley about your relationship with his rival, screwing everything. But you’ve also thought about keeping it to yourself just a little longer. The upcoming mission was creeping into your mind at every thought; What if they didn’t make it? You didn’t want to think about that more than just a second. Not about your brother nor Jake. 

He would come back, and he’ll be fine. This wasn’t his first mission.

“I don’t even know Penny, I’m so confused.” you sighed and let your head fall into your crossed arms. 

“You’ll figure it out, sweetheart. I know you will.” she said, caressing your hair. You lifted your head to look into her eyes, her kind smile calming your racing thoughts a little. 

Not enough, though. 

That night, you kind of ignored your limits of how much alcohol you could handle in one night. You got pretty much drunk. Not to a point where you could throw up or blackout, Penny was in charge of the bar after all, but the kind you’d be rewarded with a nice headache the next day and your mind to be pretty foggy. 

Drinking wasn’t one of your strengths. That’s why Jake liked to jokingly call you a lightweight, and he couldn’t be more accurate with it. 

You’ve been sitting at the bar for a good part of the night now. The team had already greeted you when they came in, asking you to come with them, but you declined, telling them you’d maybe join them later.

“Penny.” you tried to get her attention, a sudden certainty in your voice, “Please excuse me. I have to go and get some kisses now.“ 

“That’s his boyfriend duty,” you said with a confident nod. “You know, happy wife, happy life.” 

Penny had no idea how no one of the team could see the glances Hangman gave you. How he couldn’t tear his gaze away from you even if he tried. If anything happened, he’d be there in a heartbeat. And those poor guys who tried to flirt with you were quickly intimidated by his death stare. 

Penny just laughed. She had kept a close eye on you since your third drink of the night, the last two she gave you were non-alcoholic, but you didn’t have to know that. 

She ignored your choice of words at the saying, not changing ‚wife‘ to ‚girlfriend‘ with a chuckle and motioned you to go. “Go and tell Jake then.” You looked at her with wide eyes, “How did y‘know I’m talking about Jake?” 

Penny tilted her head with a smile, “Sweetheart, I notice things.” she winked, “Now go and get your man.” 

The next thing you knew, you were trying to your boyfriend at the pool table. 

“Hey, Jake!” 

His head snapped in your direction at the use of his first name. You were the only one calling him that. And the first name basis got everyone else’s attention as well. 

“Yeah?” he tried to not be too obvious. But his concern about how you were feeling was rising with every second. 

You didn‘t stop at the pool table, but walked up to him. Until you stood right in front of him. You looked up into his bright eyes, filled with curiosity.

“I need kisses.” you told him with a pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. He was so thrown off by what you were saying, that he almost forgot the others around him.

Jake unwrapped your arms from his neck and placed his hand on your lower back. “I think you need some water and sleep, bubbles.” he couldn‘t suppress the small grin that grew on his lips.

„Kisses?! What the fuck is-„ Rooster started but was quickly interrupted by you, “Oh for god’s sake shut up Bradley.” you hushed your brother in honest annoyance, turning to him. 

“I love you, but I’m sick and tired of hiding something from you that’s important to me, just because I’m scared of what you’ll think or do.”

Hangman’s gaze was a mix between shock and pride. That you just straight out told your brother and all of your friends standing around you, about the two of you. Not keeping it a secret anymore. He knew it took a toll on you, and he’d told you multiple times to just tell Bradley for your own sake.

“Oh my god” you heard Phoenix breath out a laugh, while the others couldn‘t find words, still shocked, while some of them were exchanging amused looks.

Bradley didn’t. He looked back and forth between you and Jake, not able to process it all quite yet.

„Sorry man, listen I-„ 

“Just give me a second, okay?” Rooster cut Hangman off, stomping to the bar. 

“Let him be,“ you said while curling yourself into his side, hugging his arm close to your body, “He’ll be fine by tomorrow, the old drama queen.” Sober-you would probably be scared Bradley would be angry or disappointed. 

Good thing you weren‘t sober right now. 

“Babe, how much did you have to drink?” Jake whispered, as he bent down a little until his lips reached your ear.

“Ohh, not that much.” you assured him as you tried to sound sober, looking up at his face, only inches away from yours.

He looked back to the bar, finding Penny’s gaze. She mouthed something like “water” easing Hangman’s concern about your drunken state.

“Let’s get you to bed, huh, sugar?” he softly smiled at you. A real smile, one he had reserved for only you. 

You instantly shook your head in disagreement, “I swear, I’m not-„ you yawned, “that tired.” 

“‘Course you aren't” he mockingly smiled down at you.

“C‘mon, on my back.” he ordered, putting his hands behind his back, ready to hold your legs for support. He bent down, and you tried your best to hop on his back. You wouldn’t win anyway, and sooner or later - you preferred later - he’d carry you out the bar. 

You rested your head on Jake’s shoulder and wrapped your hands around his body. Your eyes already closing as the exhaustion betrayed you.

“Wow, Hangman, nice one.” Coyote teased him, the others joining in with laughter. Who would’ve thought Hangman had a soft spot.

“Shut it, Coyote.” Jake said with a look that would make anyone run for the hills.

“See you tomorrow, lover boy!” Phoenix joked. 

You giggled on Jake’s shoulder, “That’s a good one!” you lazily turned your head in her direction and smirked, Phoenix and the others laughing back at you.

“You’re supposed to be on my side.” Jake complained, giving your ass a little smack.

“Hey.” you giggled, but did nothing in response. Your head ached a little, and you hadn‘t had the strength nor willpower to do so. Just relived to be carried, you let your head sink back on Jake’s shoulder. 

“I love you.” you whispered to Jake as he carefully sat you down on the passenger seat of his car. He stopped in his tracks, his eyes finding yours. Jake bent down to place a soft kiss on your lips and he smiled. 

The slight smell of alcohol was surrounding you, but Jake couldn’t care less. „I love you, and I’ll never let you go, that’s for sure. You’re all mine, baby.“ he whispered back between small kisses, giving you goosebumps. His scent surrounded you as you wrapped your hands around his neck to bring him even closer. “Good.” you grinned and pulled him into another, longer kiss.

Masterlist

[gremlins-hotel]

From the notes of Capt. Alfred Jones: "Davie was a bus and the 'Flying Fortress' moniker seemed to pass her by, but it was a ship with a brave crew. The trudge of getting back to England from enemy territory is a story for another day. I miss her and sometimes I miss the boys we lost that day."

-✪- -✪- -✪-

B-17F "Dear Davie": *U.S. Army Model B-17F-65-BO Air Corps Serial No. 42-29670 Delivered Cheyenne 31/1/43; Pueblo 18/2/43; Salina 15/2/43; Brookley 19/3/43; Smoky Hill 23/3/43; Dow Field 18/4/43. Assigned to the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group [TS-L] "DEAR DAVIE" 22/4/43; Missing in Action near Hamburg 25/7/43 with Alfred "Comet" Jones, **Co-Pilot: Daryl "Speed" Reed, Navigator: Richard Reed, Bombardier: Charlie Marstaller; Radio Operator: Johnathan Graves, Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner: Clyde "Pepsi" Ray, Ball Turret Gunner: William Ortlieb, Waist Gunner: Leslie Lipsey, Waist Gunner: Paul Rapoport, Tail Gunner: Thomas Pugh (6 Killed in Action); "DEAR DAVIE" lost to flak/anti-aircraft fire, crashing near Uetersen, 15 miles NW of Hamburg, Germany.

-✪- -✪- -✪-

[nerd things & acknowledgements below cut]

Notes on the B-17F... The B-17F was an upgrade of the previous E model, with several notable changes: A one- or two-piece plexiglas nose cone, as opposed to the ten-paneled cone of previous versions. Reinforced landing gear allowed for a greater maximum payload, from 4,200 lb (1,900 kg) of ordnance to 8,000 lb (3,600 kg). Flight and combat range of the F model was improved by 900 mi (1,400 km) with the addition of nine self-sealing rubber fuel cells in the wing root, aka, "Tokyo tanks". The F model was generally characterized by being tail-heavy - which lead to part failure - and woefully undefended from the front; the early F models had no front-facing armament, leaving a 60° blind spot to the direct front of the aircraft - a flaw which was exploited by German pilots, who held air superiority. Later F models would see a list of possible available modifications (factory and field) such as inserting two .50 caliber machine guns into the nose cone to solve the blind spot. Other modifications to later F models were bulged cheek turrets, as opposed to the window-mounted guns of earlier iterations, and the available addition of the iconic "Bendix" chin turret. The chin turret is far more common on the subsequent G "gunship" variant. ("Dear Davie" is an early F model without the nose mount, bulged cheeks, or chin turret.)

*This model production block, serial no., and fate are borrowed from real-life B-17F #42-29670, "Thundermug." "Thundermug" was an aircraft that originally served in the 333rd Bomb Squadron/94th Bomb Group alongside my great-grandfather and his usual steed, "The Gremlins Hotel." It was transferred to the 544th BS/384th BG, at which point it went Missing in Action over Hamburg from flak/aa-fire; 8 of its crew became POWs while 2 were KIA. I have had the honor to speak to descendants of both of its crews and help them research "Thundermug"; I wish to voice a mere glimpse of their stories in a unique way.

**All names of Alfred's crew are either cobbled-together family names throughout our history here or entirely fictitious - though some were inspired by real people whom I grew up with stories of. All inspirations were individuals that lived good lives post-war.

[gunsandspaceships]

MCU Timeline: Iron Man. Part 4 (May 2008, after Afghanistan)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

May 4:

10 am - Pepper helps Tony change the reactor.

~12:30 - Tony goes to Edwards Air Force Base to offer Rhodey the chance to become the armor test pilot. Having been refused to be heard, he decides to become the pilot himself.

May 5 - Tony begins the Mark II project.

May 14 - Board of Directors meeting in New York. Stane came back with pizza to inform that "they" are filing an injunction against Tony. Pepper brought the "Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart" reactor to Tony's lab along with a mug of coffee.

May 15 (Day 11 of "Mark II" project):

Morning/afternoon - after 36 tests, Tony has a successful 37th. However, he does not immediately go on a full test flight.

Evening - he puts together Mark II and goes for a full flight test in LA.

Night - Tony finally notices that poor coffee mug and Pepper's gift.

May 15/16 - photos of the Jericho and other SI weapons in the hands of the Ten Rings were taken. Which means that Obadiah supplied the terrorists with a new batch of weapons, including this missile system, sometime between April and May 15. Around this time, the Ten Rings attacked Gulmira.

May 16:

Before 22:09 - Tony rests from the test flight and his injuries, makes notes for suit upgrades, gives Jarvis instructions for Mark III.

Night (May 16-17), (2 weeks after the press conference) - 3rd Annual Charity Ball. Tony is there after 11:00 pm, May 16 (his watch shows 10:09 pm, add the time it takes him to get ready and change, plus the drive from his house to Disney Concert Hall takes about an hour, but this time he's driving, so the drive takes less time). Coulson is there and asks him for an appointment on May 24th. Tony spends some time with Pepper.

May 17:

~12 am - Christine Everhart informs Tony of a new arms shipment to terrorists from SI. Tony asks Stane about the under the table deals, and Stane tells him that he's behind the attempts to lock Tony out.

3 am - Mark III is ready. Tony returns from the Charity Ball, takes off his jacket and shirt, and while finishing his glove watches the report from Gulmira.

Evening/Night (~8 pm) - Tony gets into Mark III and flies to Afghanistan. It probably takes him about 3-4 hours to get there with his speed of about 2000 mph.

May 18:

~10:30 am (Afghanistan) - he attacks the Ten Rings in Gulmira, saves the villagers, and destroys the Jericho.

~11 am (Afghanistan)/11:30 pm (LA) - Air Force spots him in the no-fly zone and tries to shoot him down. Tony saves the pilot and escapes.

~6 am (LA) - Tony is back home. Pepper finds out about his adventures.

Marvel forgot about the time difference and forced Rhodes and Major Allen to work at night.

Afternoon/Evening - Rhodey gives a press conference about the "unfortunate training exercise involving F-22 Raptor". Stane watches this on tv.

May 19 - Stane in Afghanistan. He meets with Raza, takes Mark I and kills the terrorists. He orders SI engineers to begin work on the Iron Monger suit.

May 19-24 - Tony repairs his armor and recovers from his injuries. Stane and SI engineers build the Iron Monger suit.

May 24:

~4 pm - Tony sends Pepper to retrieve the shipping manifests from the SI mainframe.

~6 pm - Pepper at SI. She gets the data and learns that Stane was behind the assassination attempt on Tony. Stane finds out about this.

On the computer in Tony's office we see the time 13:46. But throughout the whole scene with Pepper it remains the same. It also doesn't make much sense if Coulson just sat there all day knowing his appointment at 7 pm. Thus I assume this time is incorrect.

7 pm - time of Coulson's appointment with Tony at SI. He and Pepper go to the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. Stane rushes to his engineers, demanding an update on the arc reactor. After receiving bad news, he decides to take it from Tony.

Coulson tried to catch Tony for a debriefing from May 2nd to May 16th, and then waited for his scheduled appointment on May 24. He wasn't hanging around there for 6 months (until October 24th), as stated in some timelines. It's simply ridiculous.

~9 pm - Pepper calls Tony from the S.H.I.E.L.D. office. Stane paralyzes Tony and pulls the reactor out of his chest, leaving him to die.

In 10-15 minutes - the paralysis begins to subside and Tony goes to get his first reactor. He barely makes it in time due to arrhythmia (but Dum-E saves him) and loses consciousness after inserting it.

~ 10 pm - Pepper calls Rhodey and he rushes to Tony's house.

~10:30-11 pm - back at SI Stane inserts Tony's reactor into his armor. Rhodes finds Tony unconscious in his lab.

~11:30 pm-12 am - The Battle with Iron Monger.

Remember that the time required to get from Malibu to the SI headquarters by car is approximately 1.5 hours, and from Malibu to Edwards AFB is almost 2 hours. Let's make allowance for the fact that Rhodey had to drive like crazy in Tony's Audi to get there ASAP, so it took him about an hour to get there.

May 25:

Afternoon - "I am Iron Man" press conference.

Evening/Night - Tony meets Fury, who broke into his house.

The Incredible Hulk (2008) Timeline

Iron Man 2 (2010) Timeline

Thor (2011) Timeline

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) Timeline

The Avengers (2012) Timeline

[pilot4008]

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F22Raptor #Kampfjet #Luftfahrt #Pilot #Militärflugzeug #Handyhülle #Luftwaffe #Jet #Flugzeugliebhaber #Flugzeug

F-22 Raptor intercepting a Russian Tu-95 Bear

[wickedwanchii]

Happy late birthday to the world's favorite Lieutenant Colonel, Alfred F. Jones ✨️

Here he is sporting his brand new P-47d, the Darin' Dallas, ready to take to the skies and show the world what all an Ace can really do! You can find him flying with the rest of them boys in the 317th, so be sure to give him a kiss when you see him next, for extra good luck!

Extra nerd stuffs below the cut

Alfred can be seen here standing atop a P-47d, AKA a Razorback. This is a sturdy escort fighter and a low-level bomber, notorious for being able to sustain some serious damage and remain flying. Alfred flew two P-47s during his piloting career, with this being the second known as the Darin' Dallas (fictional ID 42-25824). While this plane met a kinder fate than it's predecessor, the Desert Dandy, it saw a small but distinguished portion of its time in service under the capable hands of LTC Jones as he flew with the 317th Fighter Squadron.

Jones flew the Darin' Dallas from December 42-September 43, where it was withdrawn from service as the Squadron transitioned from using mostly P-47s to P-51s, which was when he went on to fly his finest set of wings yet- The Franklin Express. The Darin' Dallas continued in service after leaving the 317th, where it saw continued action in the Pacific Theatre until 1945, and then remained in service with Air National Guard until it was fully retired in 1948.

The Darin' Dallas is a P-47D-23-RA, a variation of the 22-RE from the Evansville Plant, and was one of 889 planes of that variant type built at that location. This is one of the last production blocks before the plants began producing the Bubbletop D-variants, which was a switch done to improve rearward visibility. One of the most common complaints from pilots flying the Razelorbacks was limited visibility towards the aft of the plane, as the design restricted the view since the entire back portion of the cockpit was constructed of metal with glass panels inlaid. When the switch to the bubbletop was made, this replaced the metal with a full glass "bubble," effectively increasing cockpit visibility to cover the entirety of the plane.

[nocternalrandomness]

"Mount Up"

[oceansssblue]

100 celebration — PROMPT 22 = FORCED TO SHARE HEAT/ONE BED.

PAIRING: WRECKER/F READER

WARNINGS: FREEZING TEMPERATURES, SUGESTIVE&MENTIONS OF WRECKERS BIG BOY BUT NO PROPER SEX SCENE (IMPLICIT AT THE END), PURE FLUFF 💖🔥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Fucking pirates".

Your low, grumpy mutter echoes in the Starfall; your body slumping down on the pilot's seat like a toy whose battery has finally ran out. A deep sigh of relief follows your closed eyes; stress and adrenaline slowly disolving inside of you. You can still feel your heartbeat pounding inside your chest. This has been too close to death to your liking; and even with Wrecker at the gunship, the Starfall has not escaped unfased.

You let yourself breathe for five too short seconds before you're jumping out of the chair to run a check on the ship's system; brow inmediately frowning at the flickering lights and the myriad of warning signs fighting for your attention.

"How bad is it?" The thump of Wrecker's steps are tired and heavy as he climbs up from the gunship, voice echoing against the walls of the Starfall as well.

You take a glance at his worried face –the scars pulling at his skin– and study the system again. You inmediately start to tincker with your ship –you know it like the palm of your hand by now–; redirecting energy and efforts where it's most needed.

"We'be been badly hit. We can't jump into hiperspace as it is" you explain, humming distractedly while you continue to work on your ship. The light's stop flickering, turned off by now, and another set of softer ones replace them. You give him the bad news, voice full of dissapointment and resignment. "It'll take us two extra weeks to get back to Pabu. Apart from that, our main worry is gonna' be the cold. I've set the emergency heat reserve on, but it'll probably only last us a day or two".

Wrecker shrugs and grins. He had almost expected to hear that they had one engine less or a wing of the ship had been completely shut down; more time alone with you and a bit of cold isn't going to kill him. Hell, the worst part of this situation is probably how worried Hunter will be; and the cost of the repairs needed.

"Are coms still available?" He asks, hopeful.

You nod tiredly; at least you can give him that...

Wrecker smiles and pats your shoulder comfortingly.

"Then we'll let them know what happened with those pirates and we'll take this as a small vacation break" he suggests, and even if you're exhausted and frustrated, it's impossible to stay grumpy around him for too long

At least you're stranded with Wrecker and not Crosshair, you say to yourself. Wrecker is a very easy-going person; and his positivity may make this delay feel less catastrophic than it is. You can't imagine how irritating two weeks of listening to the sharpshooter's dry sarcasm and complaints would be. He'd probably blame you for not navigating your ship good enough; even though everyone knows your piloting skills with the Starlight have no one to envy.

Well, there's nothing you can really do now. You'll try not to fret and follow your friend's advice.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The first night the temperature starts to drop, but the cold is managable and only really noticed after a sneeze or two and the need to throw an extra blanket on top of your current ones. On the second, the cold hits hard; your body shivering and trembling unconsciously throughout the night and making it impossible to sleep for more than a pair of hours straight without waking up. It starts to get dangerous on the third night; fingers hurting in small pin pricks of pain and muscles and joints loudly complaining with each move.

It's in the middle of that fitfull night when something carefully dropping on top of you makes you groggily blink awake. You try to scan your room in the darkness of the Starlight, barely making sense of Wrecker's figure there.

"Mm?" You manage to mumble half asleep.

"Sh... Go back to sleep, mesh'la. Just checking on you" Wrecker's soft voice inmediately answers back.

You're so exhausted you fall back to unconsciousness almost inmediately; your body relaxing in relief at the sudden extra warmth.

In the morning when you wake up again and find two extra blankets on top of you, you quickly understand the small interruption of the night. You push them aside in order to stand up; but the cold inmediately bites back, and you decide to pad over to Wrecker's small room in front of yours with two of them wrapped around you.

When you peak your head inside and see him trembling in his sleep without any blankets on, your heart clenches in gratefullness and affection. A bit worried too, you touch his forehead gently to check on his temperature; Wrecker inmediately groaning and catching your hand in his while he blinks awake.

"Your hand feels like an ice cube" he mumbles, and you apologise inmediately, taking it back.

"Wreck..." you sigh with a small grateful smile. "You shouldn't have given me all your blankets. You're cold too".

Wrecker yawns and pulls his body up in a sitting form. He rubs his face and then his neck and the top of his shoulders with his hand before focusing on answering you.

"Mm. I have my thermoregulator blacks on, and I always run warmer than you anyways" he explains gently. "You were unconsciously whimpering in your sleep from how cold you were, mesh'la. I couldn't go back to sleep after hearing you suffer like that".

"Thank you" you say, and you really mean it. Wrecker's one of the most selfless persons you've gotten to know. "You know... We could sleep in the same cot. It'll be a tight fit for sure, but we could share all the blankets together. That way we'll both stay warm".

While your voice is completely casual and unbothered, Wrecker's facial expression fills with genuine surprise.

"Oh... If you're good with that, mesh'la" he seems a bit hesitant, perhaps not wanting to invade your space or privacy, so you smile soothingly.

"I'll get us some nutribars to eat. Let's just try it out tonight, alright? If it doesn't work we can go back to how we were" You suggest, and Wrecker nods distractedly.

His eyes don't leave your retreating figure til you dissapear in the direction of the cockpit.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

After a day of both interesting and just-to-kill-time conversations pass by, the night starts fairly well for the both of you. You're not really cuddling together at first; just laying on your sides and doing your best at fitting together in the same bed, trying to respect each others spaces as much as you can. Your natural body heats are enough to make the temperature under the four piled blankets warm enough; and for the first time in three days, you go to sleep without a single mind curse against the cold around you.

The kriffing cold doesn't take a respite, though; and perhaps because your body is no longer moving your temperature drops a few hours after and you wake up trembling again, swallowing your groans of dissapointment at the no longer functionating idea. Wrecker doesn't seem to hold the same problem; you can practically feel his body heat besides you.

You don't really think it through before you're slowly and quietly pressing closer to him; freezing toes trying to find a warmer spot below his legs.

Wrecker makes a small pained rumble with his throat, and you stop on your mission, glancing up at his sleepy face. He doesn't bother to open his eyes, though you know you've woken him up from his slumber. You fill a tiny bit guilty.

"Sorry" you whisper quietly. "Can I?"

Wrecker hums in reluctant acceptance, and one of his big hands plops down on your back, hugging you towards him with a mumble under his breath you can't even descipher even if you strain your hearing.

You shrug it off and enjoy the warmth of his body with a pleasant sigh, toes finding their perfect home under his body and hands being tucked in between your chests. You can feel Wrecker's deep sleepy breathing in front of your face. You're tempted to stay awake for just a pair of minutes if just to watch him in this relaxed state –one you've never really seing him in–; but you're so comfortable and tired you follow him into dreamland in a matter of seconds and you barely move an inch until late in the morning.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

On night number five, you take the liberty of directly cuddling against him; hiding your cold nose in his neck and hugging him gently under the blankets.

"Mm" you mumble with your lips almost pressed to his skin. "This is great".

Wrecker chuckles and his hand tightens on you involuntarily.

"Yeah... Ur' so small. Fit like the perfect teddybear".

You grin and nuzzle against him. He's so big and warm, and such a good person... You've always felt safe around him.

"Mm, so I'm Lula's replacement now?" You joke around, and Wrecker's chest moves once again with his low chuckles.

"Only til I get back to her" he follows your joke, smiling in the near- darkness of the room.

You both chat for a bit til you start doing a competetion of yawns and you decide to call it a day; falling asleep with a smile pressed against his neck. This is starting to feel like a vacation, yeah.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A week after your unfortunate encounter with the pirates, movement wakes you up in the middle of the night. There's no day and night in space, really; but the lights on the Starfall are designed to dim with the hours until they completely turn off, so it helps you to keep track of the days that pass by.

You start making sense of your surroundings as your mind slowly drifts back to counsciousness. For once you're incredibly warm, and it pulls a satisfied smile upon your face. You stretch slowly, lazily. Wrecker mumbles behind you; pressing his body firmly against you. The movement pushes you forward slightly, not too far away because of the tight grip he has on your hip; and you inmediately understand –and feel– what exactly has woken you up, blushing in flustered embarassment. Wrecker's erection is iron hard –and so big, fuck– against your ass; his own hips slowly thrusting back and forward periodically.

You call him in a mortified rasp.

"Wrecker..." he doesn't react at all, so you clear your voice and call him more firmly, squeezing his forearm, voice loud now in the silence of the ship. "Wrecker, wake up".

The clone stirrs with a confused, disorientated hum.

"Mm? Whats'up?" He grumbles, breathing pattern changing and body finally stilling with his return to consciousness.

"Wrecker, you've been... You are..." you try to say, your cheeks on fire, and he suddenly processes the situation he finds his own body in upon openning his eyes.

He's aroused, and his erection is firmly nestled against your ass. He vaguely remembers himself moving while he dreamed of...

He inmediately backs off with a curse, back pressing against the cold wall behind his bunk.

"Kark, I'm sorry!" Maker, this is so fucking embarassing. He wishes the ground could just swallow him. "I-I didn't mean to... I was dreaming and..."

He tries to justify himself, cringing at how he's not really fixing the situation much. He suddenly grows a bit worried and anxious. He holds so much respect for you... What if you just lose it for him, what if you now see him as someone who'd take advantage of a situation like this, of you being asleep? Luckily for him, you don't seem to take it as an offense or anything of the sort; just looking as mortified as he is.

You try not to picture what he could be dreaming of and ignore your own warmth bubbling inside of you; turning around to face him in understanding.

"S'alright, Wrecker" you soothe his worries. "We all have one of those from time to time, nothing to be ashamed of. We're just happening to share a bed in a bad time for that".

You chuckle nervously, and Wrecker feels partially relieved.

"Maybe we can just cuddle the other way?" You carefully suggest. "Or do you want to..."

You let the ending of the sentence fall on him, and Wrecker inmediately shakes his head.

"I'm not going to rub one out in the bathroom" he winces at how crude the words sound coming out of his mouth, but he really doesn't want you to think worse of him.

Hell, this is uncomfortable as it is right now; he can't imagine how it would feel if he dissapeared for some minutes in the sonic before returning and joining you in bed again.

You try to ignore the situation and act unbothered. It's the best way to dissolve this awkwardness. It's not his fault, really. You're feeling a bit aroused yourself now, inevitably.

"Okay, turn around then" you encourage him with a grin. "I'll be the big spoon for once".

Wrecker sighs and gives you an unsure smile.

" 'Kay" he whispers, moving to face the wall and showing his back to you. "Jus' hit me if I make you uncomfortable, please".

You laugh quietly and settle on your side behind him.

"Noted" you whisper cheekily, and to your own surprise, you spontaneously gift his left shoulderblade with a quick affectionate peck.

Wrecker hums almost as a way of saying "thanks"; and you're left awake with a million thoughts and questions in your head.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It happens a few more times along the week –sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes in the early hours of the morning–; til the point you both develop a kind of rutine out of it. You nudge him and gently push him away as he lingers between reality and sleep; both of you re-arranging your positions in the bunk quietly before losing yourselves to dreamland again. If it's in the morning you just stand up and check the Starlights' curse in the cockpit, update Hunter; while he stays alone in bed until he appears through the corridor with a tiny guilty smile on his scarred face.

"We'll be arriving Pabu tomorrow" you announce finally one day, shooting him a grin. "Not having to share a tiny bed with me much longer, Wreck. You're gonna' have your Lula back".

He gives you a hesitant smile. You don't know if you're seeing things after the recent sudden realisation of your own feelings or if he is indeed dissapointed by this.

That night when you cuddle in bed your grip on him is a little bit tighter than usual. You'll miss this.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Hunter is inmediately relieved upon your arrival on Pabu. Omega, already recovered from her injury –the main reason why they had stayed back this time– runs to greet you; and you chat with her while you answer all of her questions about your encounter with the pirates. Tech greets you politely and inmediately asks permision to take a look at your ship; and you don't think it twice before giving him full access to the Starlight. You know he must have enjoyed a bit of de-stress time with Phee; but also miss putting his incredible mind to the test. You'll let him entertain himself.

After two weeks without natural light and a permanent scenery, Pabu looks prettier than ever with it's colourful sunsets and the beauty of the sea. It'll be great to eat something other than nutribars as well.

That night, though, when you lay down on your bed in the bedroom you share with Omega, you can't help but feel a bit lonely. You're surprised at how incredibly quickly you've goten used to Wrecker's sleeping presence beside you; at how much you wish he were still here.

When at breakfeast he asks you if you slept well, and lightly comments on how good you probably feel with your big bed back, you hesitantly push the truth out there with the slightest bit of humour. You're not sure if he really likes you or if all of his reactions these past few days have been a result of needed closeness, and there's nothing more to look in there. You don't handle rejection well, you don't like feeling vulnerable; so you'll joke around it for now til you're sure of it.

"I don't know, Wreck. You make a good pillow" you smile at him, and Wrecker answers with his own personal grin.

Un-noticed by the two of you and having his breakfeast in silence, hip pressed against the kitchen counter and bandana abandoned in his nightstand for once, Hunter studies you in quiet surprise.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

That night when you're unable to fall asleep again, mind always spinning in the direction of the man sleeping in the adyacent room, you make up your resolve and quietly pad to Wrecker's door. You open it as carefully as possible; scanning his sleeping form while nervously biting your lip. He's awake, thankfully; taking a glance at the door sleepily to see who it is.

"Hi" you whisper, adding in a shy, unsure tone. "I'm cold. Can I..."

You're beginning to think this was not a good idea. It's definitively not that cold. There's no excuse anymore, and maybe you've read it all wrong and...

Wrecker opens the single blanket to the side and makes a lazy gesture for you.

"C'mere" he answers, interrupting your spiral of thoughts, and making you sigh in relief.

You climb in bed with him and melt onto his welcoming hug.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Every night after that one, once Omega falls asleep, you quietly move to Wrecker's room; the clone always inmediately making the space for you to lay with him. He doesn't ask, and you no longer explain; both of you tip-toing around your growing feelings, just a tiny bit hesitant to take the final step.

Summer starts to arrive in Pabu. First you both abandon the warm blanket; then the bedsheet, and finally swith to short-sleeved pijamas. You're a bit wary and nervous about the lack of an excuse; but Wrecker chuckles and softly tells you that you can go cuddle with him even when you're not cold. You give him a happy smile and your lips slowly press against his cheek; Wrecker blushes, and you grin. Everyone notices the slow progressive development between the two of you; the rest of the Batch arching eyebrows and glancing at each other while they try to remain patient in their expectancy.

The next lazy morning, when you wake up spooning and feel his erection again, you bite your lip and squirm involuntarily. Wrecker wakes up with the shuffle –not jumping away anymore at the realisement–; and mumbles a sleepy "sorry" before moving to turn around to face the other side of the bed.

You're quicker than him. You feel your body burning in affection and heat. You grab his hand so that he stays as he is; and turn around to look at him. You finally sigh and give in.

The kiss is slow, sweet and soft; yet deep and heartfelt. Wrecker makes a tiny surprised sound with his throat before he's completely melting in the bed; hesitantly resting his right hand on your hips and gently tugging you towards him. You hum in delight and welcome him; one leg going over his own hips so you can press your bodies closer together, feel him against you. You kiss him more intently, heart beating furiously inside your chest and impatience growing; Wrecker's hand finally cupping your ass and pulling a small pleased moan that makes him groan as well.

You take a moment to breathe and bite your lip. Wrecker makes another low sound with his throat; glancing at them before looking at you in the eyes.

"Not fair for you to be this sexy this early, mesh'la" he whispers in a raspy voice.

Your cheeks flush, but you smile suggestively and caress his scarred cheek affectionately.

"I can show you sexier if you wanna' " you whisper back at him.

Wrecker's big hands gently squeeze your ass before he's pulling you on top of him in a smooth movement. His smile is radiant while they travel upwards to caress your back.

"Oh, I wanna' " he chuckles, joining your lips together again inmediately, and you grin into the kiss.

I'll have to thank those pirates for this, you think, some minutes later, while you lose yourself into the bliss.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Here we have the first prompt of the 100 celebration! Hope y'all liked it. 9 more to go!

Xx,

Blue.

PS. You'll be able to find all my other prompts under the tag "100blueprompt" or in this list as I publish them (I recommend saving the following link and check it from time to time):

Or You can also let me know if you'd like to be tagged in any/all.

In the mean time you've got a lot of other stories in my sw masterlist!

<3

[usafphantom2]

Pilot: How close do you want me to get?

Photographer: Close enough that ATC thinks we're dating!

An F-22 from the 90th FS, Elmendorf AFB, Alaska, moving in for its close-up.

@RealAirPower1 via X

[splendsay]

COD FF // Callsign: Sunshine // Ch. 44: Just a .22

WE'RE IN BOSTON FOLKS THIS IS NOT A DRILL

..................................................................

Callsign: Sunshine // Chapter 44: Just a .22

Rating: 18+ !!MDNI!! Chapters: 44/? WC: 118,410 Pairing(s): TF141 x F!Reader (You) Chapter Warnings: Explicit language, suggestive content Chapter Excerpt (🚨spoilers!!🚨):

"Fuck you," you seethe through clenched teeth.

Your upper thigh is clamped between both hands. Blood dribbles down your fingers, the makeshift tourniquet Simon made from the hem of someone's shirt not quite enough to stem it. Ricky is digging around in the hole near your knee -- parting skin and sinew with a surprisingly surgical pair of tongs to root out the bullet currently lodged somewhere close to the bone.

The only reason you haven't ripped the skin off his smarmy mustachioed face is because you're a little tipsy. And restrained by the arms of Soap, whose lap you're in.

"Don't be so dramatic, darlin', it's only a .22," Ricky chides.

"How could you possibly fucking know that?"

"Got an eye for 'em'."

"Course you do."

Even through the liquored haze, it still feels like a fire is ravaging your entire leg. The pain of the gunshot itself is sharp. Throbbing. But the attempt to remove the bullet has truly been a grueling test of your ever-fluctuating willpower. 

"How's about I carve your eyes out with my bare hands and make you eat them, you f--."

Ricky lets out a hearty guffaw, cutting you off.

You don't mean it, though the thought does bring a small amount of joy to your otherwise pain-addled brain. In the short time he's been stabbing you thoroughly and repeatedly, you've learned that batshit threats of violence usually make him laugh. And making him laugh is a nice distraction.

Not a very effective one. 

But it's better than nothing. 

"Take another shot o' moonshine," Ricky instructs, gesturing to the flask beside his foot. 

Moonshine doesn't remotely begin to describe the heat of Ricky's horse piss liquor. You'd told him as much after your first swig. 

"You should call this shit Sunburn," you'd sputtered. He'd laughed at that too. 

It's the only medication you're going to get, but you're not sure getting hammered is going to make this experience any better.

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself, darlin'."

Soap idly traces his thumbs along your biceps. Another nice distraction. Together, you sit in the first row of first class on an American Airlines passenger jet. An Airbus. Ancient, but still moving. 

Turns out Cap's friends are looters of a grand sort. Grand larceny, to be specific. Slim's defense when pressed was that nobody else was fuckin' usin' it. Without Cap conscious to otherwise vouch for her, you'd had no choice but to take her word for it. 

Cap himself is in Slim's hands, which the siblings -- you think they're siblings -- all four of them: Slim, Ricky, and the other two pilots, Junior and Rabbit -- insist is a good thing. She's got him somewhere behind the curtain separating first class from the rest of the plane. You've asked about him a dozen times. At least. They've assured you each time that Slim was a trained combat medic. Has seen a head injury or two in her time. Nimble fingers and whatnot. 

But you can only think of Alex. Alex and his weeks' long coma. Alex who hasn't ever quite been the same, though you suppose you never truly knew him before his injury. He's been stoic. Quiet since you got on the plane. Resting against Farah's shoulder just across the aisle from you. 

Simon is on your other side, in the window seat, holding your hand. Well, really, you're holding his. Squeezing the shit out of it. The tips of his fingers are white. 

Gaz, Gary, and the Los Vaqueros boys are behind you, silent enough to suggest they've all fallen asleep.

Ricky's hand slips, sending his tongs deeper than they ought to be. You howl in outrage, thrashing in your seat, almost kicking him in the chin, but Soap quickly detains you -- with an arm banded across your chest and a low murmur in your ear. 

"Be still, love."

You hiss at him. "Fuck you too." 

He chuckles, which sends a flare of defiance through your skull -- a shock of red on the edge of your vision. You buck against him, wriggling your hips, trying to set yourself free of his grip. But it only tightens.

"You don't mean that," he croons. 

"Maybe I do."

"Careful, Ace."

The heat behind his warning softens your ire instantly. "Don't 'careful Ace' me," you lecture -- but there's no tooth to it. Not as you become very aware of his breath, hot on the back of your neck. One of his hands drops from your arm down to your waist. 

Some of the pain eddies away. Dulls. Like someone threw a blanket over it. More effective than Ricky's toilet liquor, anyway. 

Your eyes slide to Simon's, whose twinkle with something mischievous. Something dark and husky and deviant. The ever-present thread between you tightens -- though, now there's more of it. Another branch. A third anchor. 

Everything is taught.

"Ace..." Soap murmurs, following your gaze. 

You shift your hips again. Just a little. He stiffens beneath you. Releases a huff of air, blowing your some of your hair into your face. 

"Be still, woman," Ricky scolds. 

"Eat me, asshole." Your voice is soft. Throaty. You couldn't be more transparent if you tried.

"Just fuckin' relax."

"I am relaxed."

"Then stop movin'."

You can't.

You feel feral. You need to get up and walk around, if you only could. You need to run a hundred laps around the plane. Shed your skin. Get out of Soap's lap and into -- something else. 

Soap plants a gentle kiss on your shoulder and a shiver skates down your spine. 

"Johnny," you hiss. "Knock it off."

"I'm distracting you."

You let out a quiet groan -- a mix of chagrin and desire -- hardly audible. But Soap hears it, the growing firmness in his lap a delicious confirmation.

But another sharp throb of pain in your thigh dumps a bucket of ice water over your head, involuntarily sending your foot forward into Ricky a second time. 

"Oof, hey now, I've almost got it," he scolds, dodging you. 

"Fuck off, Ricky."

"Foul mouth."

"Bite me."

"Just -- think happy thoughts or somethin'."

"Happy thoughts? Really?"

"I dunno, have your other boyfriend whisper sweet nothings in your ear, since the one ain't enough."

Simon and Soap both go still. You blink at him, incredulous. Indignant. 

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

"Loaded question."

You snort. "Confidence inspiring."

"I ain't one to judge, don't you worry."

"That's not what I meant."

"Well don't worry 'bout this neither," he gestures to your leg with his free hand. "I know what I'm doin'."

His words don't quite match his physicality. His brow is coated in sweat -- the headlamp he's using to see what he's doing sliding down a little as each minute passes. 

Not exactly soothing to the nerves. 

You miss Doc. 

..................................................................... Links to: Spotify Playlist Full Fic

[pinturas-sgm-aviacion]

1942 02 21 The Long Shot - Roy Grinnell

Tomahawk Mk.IIa "GA-X"(AK658) 112 Sqn, RAF.

F/L Clive "Killer" Caldwell

repost better size and corrected color. I hesitated for a long time, because it's a sunset scene, but I am convinced the reddish hue was just the camera red glare and this how it should look

about the pilot and some of his fights:

While flying to his base alone, over northwest Egypt on 29 August 1941, Caldwell was attacked by two Bf 109s, in a simultaneous approach at right angles. His attackers included one of Germany's most famous aces, Leutnant Werner Schröer, also of JG 27, in a Bf 109E-7. Caldwell sustained three separate wounds from ammunition fragments and or shrapnel. His Tomahawk was hit by more than 100 7.92 mm bullets and five 20 mm cannon shells, but he shot down Schröer's wingman, and heavily damaged Schröer's "Black 8", causing Schröer to disengage

(...)

about his nickname:

In 4 July 1941, Caldwell saw a German pilot shoot and kill a close friend, Pilot Officer Donald Munro, who was descending to the ground in a parachute. This was a controversial practice, but was nevertheless common among German and Allied pilots. One biographer, Kristin Alexander, suggests that it may have caused Caldwell's attitude to harden significantly. Months later,(...) journalists popularised Caldwell's nickname of "Killer", which he disliked. One reason for the nickname was that he too shot enemy airmen after they parachuted out of aircraft. Caldwell commented many years later: "... there was no blood lust or anything about it like that. It was just a matter of not wanting them back to have another go at us. I never shot any who landed where they could be taken prisoner. (...) A more commonly cited reason for the nickname was his habit of using up ammunition left over at the end of sorties, to shoot up enemy troop convoys and vehicles. During his war service, Caldwell wrote in a notebook: "it's your life or theirs. This is war."

(...)

about the action depicted in the painting:

Caldwell scored another striking victory in February 1942, while leading a formation of 11 Kittyhawks from 112 Sqn and 3 Sqn. Over Gazala, he sighted a schwarm of Bf 109Fs flying some 2,000 ft higher. Caldwell immediately nosed into a shallow dive, applied maximum power and boost, then pulled his Kittyhawk up into a vertical climb. With his P-40 "hanging from its propeller," he fired a burst at a Bf 109 flown by Leutnant Hans-Arnold Stahlschmidt of I./JG 27, who was lagging behind the others. Stahlschmidt's fighter "shuddered like a carpet being whacked with a beater" before spinning out of control. Although the Kittyhawk pilots thought that the Bf 109 had crashed inside Allied lines, Stahlschmidt was able to crash-land in friendly territory.

(...)

Caldwell claimed 22 victories while in North Africa flying P-40s, including ten Bf 109s and two Macchi C.202s.

He had flown some 550 hours in over 300 operational sorties.

Note: In addition to his fight with Schröer, Caldwell also fought and shot down three German aces:

-Wolfgang Lippert, Erbo Graf von Kageneck and Hans-Arnold Stahlschmidt