The last flight of a real Ace...

This is crazy, what the hell are you thinking, you can't possibly do this, and there is absolutely no way in hell that you will be able to do justice to this post. These were some of the first few thoughts in my head as I decided to blog about one of my greatest role models, Werner Voss.

             
             

                 I am pretty sure that you haven’t heard much of this guy unless you share my enthusiasm for vintage fighter aircraft and the men who flew them. Voss was probably one of the pioneers in the field of dog fighting, one of the very first dog fighters. He was a personal friend and competitor to Manfred von Richthofen (some of you may know him better as The Red Baron, the greatest pilot of his era) and it is the general view that had he not met his death the way he did, he might have been able to end World War 1 as the greatest flying ace. I understand that most of the information on this pilot can be found on his Wikipedia page, so I’ll not go too much into the stats or his performance in the war. He was a pilot of the German empire who was awarded the Pour le Mérite (also called the Blue Max which sounds a lot cooler), the Iron Cross and numerous other medals for his bravery and for his aerial kills that stood at an impressive 48 (second only to the baron) before he fell in combat.

                     What I do want to talk about, and share my thought on is the way this guy decided to meet his maker, his last dog-fight. It was the 23^rd of September 1917, Voss had already claimed a kill this day but decided to go out on another patrol and ran into a flight of the elite 56^th squadron of the RAF. This squadron was one of the most distinguished flying groups in the entire war and each and every one of the RAF pilots in the pack attacking Voss was an ace. The dog-fight lasted for only 10 minutes but any WW1 historian worth his salt will tell you that it was one of the greatest displays of bravery and air combat put up by the Germans. The Brits were flying the SE5s and Voss was in a Fokker F1 triplane, the latter having a clear advantage in speed and rate of climb. This meant that Voss could have escaped from the fight if he wanted to and there was no way that the Brits could keep up with him, but for the better or worse, Voss never really knew how to run away from a fight. He took the English head on and for the 10 minutes before being shot, he gave them the scare of a lifetime. The fight has been well described in the video links given below and I would really appreciate it if you took some time to look them through.

                    I guess it’s just me, but I feel that there’s just this sort of awe about these men and the machines they flew. The way they find the courage to go up against the greatest of odds and do it with a smile on their lips and a glint in their eyes. Could Voss have survived if he had decided to run? Possibly, would I have run if I was in his position? Definitely, but that’s not the kind of attitude that a real fighter pilot has, give him his wings and he will command the skies. There’s no fear in their hearts, there’s no care in their eyes, just an undying joy of doing what they do best, and that’s to take to the skies and give hope to the men in the trenches and the mud. Here are the men, no different from you, but at the same time very different. Think of them as angels on your shoulder, angels who will fly above you, fight above you and die before you just so that you may have that little extra help that in the battlefield can mean life or death. Voss was one of the best pilots to have ever graced the skies, but he was not alone, he belonged to an elite group of knights who took the skies and gave hope to that little boy standing in a field in his village, they said don’t worry, fear not the enemy’s artillery, fear not the thousands that march against us. I have my wings and I have my guns, and you have my word, I shall defend our skies and defend our freedom till my guns stop shooting or my heart stops beating. These are the words Winston Churchill had for the pilots who flew in the second Great War, and I quote “Never in the field of human conflict was so much owed by so many to so few”.

I have always considered myself to be somewhat of a chef, and yesterday yet again i proved to the world how horribly misguided and deluded i was, yet with a little bit of luck and loads of messing around I finally conjured up a plate of pasta. Yay !!!;

So if there's an award or something given by the international culinary to welcome me into this council of the great pasta, I’d like to have it now please, and if there isn't then i really think there should be because if nothing else, i really like getting awards.... and gifts and high-end electronics and MARS bars, I like MARS bars, what were we talking about again? Oh yes the pasta, so i finally picked up the apron and after a couple of minor mishaps which are too embarrassing to reveal for a chef of my stature i finally came up with something remotely edible (a lot easier to swallow if you have monstrous pride and can't afford to be a laughing stock). The recipe for my pasta shall not be revealed in public interest and also because i don't want a repeat of the poison pizza fiasco, which i still maintain was not my fault (OK so 2 people died of food poisoning, but the rest of them just choked on the pizza so i honestly don't believe I should be blamed). Anyway there are a lot of ways to make pasta available on the net, look em up if want to .

So why did i write this absolutely useless post that will never prove to be any help to anybody whatsoever and waste your time? Well truth be told, the blog traffic has been rather slim these days and a couple of extra eye balls really wouldn't hurt, so cheers...

That Familiar Stranger

I just happened to have stumbled across this while i was looking over some of my old notes, this is back from a time when i was somewhat of a poet. Not really into much literature just a knack for rhyming a couple of words, never really stuck through with it but this was probably one of my best works, it wasn't written with anyone in mind but there was a little bit of hope that someday someone might just fit the bill. So let me know what you guys think (apologies for the use of short forms and flimsy grammar, like i said, not really a piece from Wordsworth's finest, just a bucket load of me) 

The days were rough n the nights were cold ,

no shoulder to cry on , n no hand to hold .

As I stood in defeat , my spirit was in pain ,

n deep inside i knew nothing would be OK ever again .

there was no hope, I had lost all heart ,

was it even possible to make a new start ?

Disappointment seemed to be the order of the day ,

Life seemed terrible , there was no use to stay.

But just when it looked like everything was lost ,

i heard a sweet voice through the chilling frost .

Her smile was as fresh as the as the morning dew ,

what i was going through , i think she knew .

who is this person ? from where did she come ?

now my heart was beating like a marching drum.

she looked like an angel , could it really be true ?

she came closer n i could see that her eyes were blue.

Could i have been dreaming ? had i gone mad ?

then she held my hand n asked with a smile " why so sad ?"

it could'nt be a dream , i just knew that it was real ,

it was impossible to explain just what i did feel.

She said " night is darkest just before dawn,

so stop feeling helpless ,u are no little fawn .

life can sometimes be harsh n it can break u down,

but u must learn to face it , don't just sit n frown.

Difficulties come n will eventually go away ,

but ur willingness to fight is whats gonna stay".

she was then gone as suddenly as she came,

i knew that my life would never be the same.

I saw her again the following night ,

her hair sparkling in the moon's silver light .

We sat on the grass n with her i could share my pain,

She listened with care although she had nothing to gain.

After she came i could feel the change in my life,

i no longer felt that my neck was under the knife.

i never got all that i wanted but realized i had everything i needed.

therefore to her caring words i always heeded .

I was living in a dream , i had found true joy ,

i felt like a kid who just got his favorite toy .

My helplessness now to me seemed strange ,

I felt all my dreams were now within range .

Days turned to months n then before u know ,

One day her smile was lost n she said " my job is done i have to go ".

That day to her a silent promise i had made ,

no matter what happens my hope shall never fade .

It has been many winters since we first met ,

but those were moments i will never forget .

I searched for her through every culture n media ,

finally found what i was looking for on Wikipedia .

The PC opened the web page with a mind of its own ,

n i was shocked to see what it had shown ,

On that page was a message addressed to me ,

telling just what she wanted me to see ....

It read " sry for leaving that way , but saying goodbye was just too hard ,

we shall meet some day, until then i am sending u a gift , along with my card ".

Just then i looked down to see a blue rose petal in my fist ,

looked up again to see the msg" This page does not exist" .

The petal was her card , the gift i never found ,

i had searched very hard but it was just not around .

It took me some time but i did finally figure out ,

I already had the gift that she was talking bout.

She had left me her heart, i could feel it beat ,

n the very realization of it threw me off my seat.

This was the change that she brought to my life ,

her love was the tonic that had ended my strife .

Why did she help me ? what did she gain ?

why was she the only one able to feel my pain ?

These are answers that only she could give ,

but her memories are all that i needed to live .

Good ppl r rare,out of a hundred u could only find seven,

but not many can brag bout meeting an angel from heaven .