Even in his departure the brave Englishman flying the Sopwith Pup took a parting snapshot at the Yellow Peril (aka 'Kevin the Junker'). The resounding retort back that clattered along his airframe confirmed his conviction that it was really time to scatter while his plane kept together (see below):
Pierre waves his English comrade off (see below). While his plane was structurally intact (as in over half its hit points intact) and bullets were still in the barrel Pierre still fancied his chances, particularly given his current tactical advantage (almost but not quite "tailing" the Yellow Peril Albatross, see below).
A streaming dog fight ensued as the the chain of scout, scout and two-seater did several circuits of the board (see below). The two-seater was always at a disadvantage being just a tad slower but annoyingly its rear gunner started chalking up odd hits on Pierre's N17.
Again and again the Yellow Peril remained just out of reach of Pierre, as he never quite gained that "killer position" (see below). Again the Pink Terror's rear gunner is seen waiting patiently for his chance to "pop" Pierre on the return orbit.
With his ammunition now almost spent and his plane's "rudder and tail" mechanism now rather tattered Pierre calls it a day. Frustratingly his last few shots seem not to have made any impression on the Yellow Peril. Despite both the Sopwith Pup and N17 passing many a damage card to "Junker Kevin" the steely German seemed to be as resolute and combat fit as at the start of play. He must have had nerves of steel? With a gentleman's nod and salute to his German opponent Pierre heads West to find friendlier skies (see below):
Leaving the German Imperial Air Service in his wake Pierre breaks off contact (see below). The engagement was counted as a tactical draw (one German shot down, one British retired and teeth drawn as Pierre vacates enemy air space). The campaign carries on with the Entente still holding the tactical advantage over this section of the front. Pierre makes a mental note to consult his 'temporary RFC armorer' regarding the ineffectual French machine guns. Was it the sighting mechanism or the bullets at fault surely not crack-shot Pierre's skill?
Further investigation at the airfield (post game examination of the damage packs) reveals Pierre had been using training ammunition 'blanks' (literally a stream of "0" and "minor no left/right turns" cards). Cursing his luck Pierre retires to bed clutching a bottle of cheap cognac while accepting the Englishman's invitation for "morning clay pigeon shooting" the following day.
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