Imagine the year is 1943, and you're RAF tasked with cutting off rail support into a major German stronghold. They have superior radar equipment and well-trained technicians watching every inch of sky for 100 miles in every direction, and worse, they know you're coming. Your only hope of getting in and out without heavy resistance from anti-aircraft guns, flack shells, and Luftwaffe Messerscmitte 209's is to stay low...less than 25 meters off the ground, the whole way in. No easy task when you're moving at 300 mph. It's fast, but the enemy is faster and have support. You're 200 miles from the nearest friendly landing strip and a dogfight isn't going to leave much to get home on, assuming you're still airborne afterward. So, yeah...keep your fucking head down.
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Cahu (Old Spike)
This comment gave me a small adrenaline surge. It reminded me of this story:
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(Long Spike)
Imagine the year is 1943, and you're RAF tasked with cutting off rail support into a major German stronghold. They have superior radar equipment and well-trained technicians watching every inch of sky for 100 miles in every direction, and worse, they know you're coming. Your only hope of getting in and out without heavy resistance from anti-aircraft guns, flack shells, and Luftwaffe Messerscmitte 209's is to stay low...less than 25 meters off the ground, the whole way in. No easy task when you're moving at 300 mph. It's fast, but the enemy is faster and have support. You're 200 miles from the nearest friendly landing strip and a dogfight isn't going to leave much to get home on, assuming you're still airborne afterward. So, yeah...keep your fucking head down.
(Old Spike)
This comment gave me a small adrenaline surge. It reminded me of this story: