Excalibur Squadron OOC 2: The Song Remains the Same

[United Kingdom of Poland]

I wonder if they ever tried to secretly make Do-335 inspired versions of the Mustang and the Spitfire...

I think after the P-52 through P-58, the USAAF realized that pusher layouts are crap compared to tractors, then when jet engines came out they said "I want to go to there..." and stuck with them.

As for the Spit, the design process probably went something like this:
Nigel: "I say, have you seen this new Jerry aeroplane?"
Rupert: "Which one?"
Nigel: "The one with an engine at both the front and at the back."
Rupert: "Sounds rather odd."
Nigel: "Indeed, but it is fast."
Rupert: "I should think so."
Nigel: "Do you think we should try that design with the Spitfire?"
Rupert: "I don't know, it would rather ruin the look of the Spitfire, wouldn't it?"
Nigel: "Yes, quite right. Best not then."
Rupert: "Jolly good then. Fancy a spot of tea?"
Nigel: "Yes, that sounds lovely!"

to be fair the p-52 and p-58 look like someone went "lets throw two planes together and see what happens."
also this would be the American response.
"Is the P-51 broke"
"No"
"Then we don't need to fix it."

[Goram]

I think after the P-52 through P-58, the USAAF realized that pusher layouts are crap compared to tractors, then when jet engines came out they said "I want to go to there..." and stuck with them.

As for the Spit, the design process probably went something like this:
Nigel: "I say, have you seen this new Jerry aeroplane?"
Rupert: "Which one?"
Nigel: "The one with an engine at both the front and at the back."
Rupert: "Sounds rather odd."
Nigel: "Indeed, but it is fast."
Rupert: "I should think so."
Nigel: "Do you think we should try that design with the Spitfire?"
Rupert: "I don't know, it would rather ruin the look of the Spitfire, wouldn't it?"
Nigel: "Yes, quite right. Best not then."
Rupert: "Jolly good then. Fancy a spot of tea?"
Nigel: "Yes, that sounds lovely!"

to be fair the p-52 and p-58 look like someone went "lets throw two planes together and see what happens."
also this would be the American response.
"Is the P-51 broke"
"No"
"Then we don't need to fix it."

Behold, the (operational) P-82. The United State's last piston engine fighter.

[Grenartia]

I wonder if they ever tried to secretly make Do-335 inspired versions of the Mustang and the Spitfire...

I think after the P-52 through P-58, the USAAF realized that pusher layouts are crap compared to tractors, then when jet engines came out they said "I want to go to there..." and stuck with them.

As for the Spit, the design process probably went something like this:
Nigel: "I say, have you seen this new Jerry aeroplane?"
Rupert: "Which one?"
Nigel: "The one with an engine at both the front and at the back."
Rupert: "Sounds rather odd."
Nigel: "Indeed, but it is fast."
Rupert: "I should think so."
Nigel: "Do you think we should try that design with the Spitfire?"
Rupert: "I don't know, it would rather ruin the look of the Spitfire, wouldn't it?"
Nigel: "Yes, quite right. Best not then."
Rupert: "Jolly good then. Fancy a spot of tea?"
Nigel: "Yes, that sounds lovely!"

Yes, but none of those are push-pull. And I am seriously disappoint in the Allies now.

I think after the P-52 through P-58, the USAAF realized that pusher layouts are crap compared to tractors, then when jet engines came out they said "I want to go to there..." and stuck with them.

As for the Spit, the design process probably went something like this:
Nigel: "I say, have you seen this new Jerry aeroplane?"
Rupert: "Which one?"
Nigel: "The one with an engine at both the front and at the back."
Rupert: "Sounds rather odd."
Nigel: "Indeed, but it is fast."
Rupert: "I should think so."
Nigel: "Do you think we should try that design with the Spitfire?"
Rupert: "I don't know, it would rather ruin the look of the Spitfire, wouldn't it?"
Nigel: "Yes, quite right. Best not then."
Rupert: "Jolly good then. Fancy a spot of tea?"
Nigel: "Yes, that sounds lovely!"

to be fair the p-52 and p-58 look like someone went "lets throw two planes together and see what happens."
also this would be the American response.
"Is the P-51 broke"
"No"
"Then we don't need to fix it."

Except for when --

to be fair the p-52 and p-58 look like someone went "lets throw two planes together and see what happens."
also this would be the American response.
"Is the P-51 broke"
"No"
"Then we don't need to fix it."

Behold, the (operational) P-82. The United State's last piston engine fighter.

DAMMIT!

[United Kingdom of Poland]

I think after the P-52 through P-58, the USAAF realized that pusher layouts are crap compared to tractors, then when jet engines came out they said "I want to go to there..." and stuck with them.

As for the Spit, the design process probably went something like this:
Nigel: "I say, have you seen this new Jerry aeroplane?"
Rupert: "Which one?"
Nigel: "The one with an engine at both the front and at the back."
Rupert: "Sounds rather odd."
Nigel: "Indeed, but it is fast."
Rupert: "I should think so."
Nigel: "Do you think we should try that design with the Spitfire?"
Rupert: "I don't know, it would rather ruin the look of the Spitfire, wouldn't it?"
Nigel: "Yes, quite right. Best not then."
Rupert: "Jolly good then. Fancy a spot of tea?"
Nigel: "Yes, that sounds lovely!"

Yes, but none of those are push-pull. And I am seriously disappoint in the Allies now.

to be fair the p-52 and p-58 look like someone went "lets throw two planes together and see what happens."
also this would be the American response.
"Is the P-51 broke"
"No"
"Then we don't need to fix it."

Except for when --

Behold, the (operational) P-82. The United State's last piston engine fighter.

DAMMIT!

that's not fixing, that's just making it more bad ass

[Grenartia]

Yes, but none of those are push-pull. And I am seriously disappoint in the Allies now.



Except for when --



DAMMIT!

that's not fixing, that's just making it more bad ass

Arguably, so is making a push-pull variant.

[United Kingdom of Poland]

that's not fixing, that's just making it more bad ass

Arguably, so is making a push-pull variant.

no that just makes it look stupid

[Grenartia]

Arguably, so is making a push-pull variant.

no that just makes it look stupid

Since when was the power of a twin-engine design, with the drag of a single-engine design stupid? Maneuverability?

[The Tiger Kingdom]

So now that I'm out of my one-day sentence in ze cooler (and making sure to block NSG forevermore), I'm back to work.

[Kouralia]

So now that I'm out of my one-day sentence in ze cooler (and making sure to block NSG forevermore), I'm back to work.

What was the ban for? Schooling a twat?

[The Tiger Kingdom]

So now that I'm out of my one-day sentence in ze cooler (and making sure to block NSG forevermore), I'm back to work.

What was the ban for? Schooling a twat?

That, and all the heroin they found jammed up my *REMOVED BY TIGER'S LEGAL STAFF*.
I won't lie, I was guilty as sin on both counts.

[Kassaran]

What was the ban for? Schooling a twat?

That, and all the heroin they found jammed up my *REMOVED BY TIGER'S LEGAL STAFF*.
I won't lie, I was guilty as sin on both counts.

NSG, the one place where your opinion is the wrong one if it aint liberal enough for them... unless you're me, I'm well known for generally just despising human rights and the whole idea of entitlement. I am Kassaran, scourge of Humanity and abolisher of it's inherent beliefs to be entitled to anything worthwhile.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

That, and all the heroin they found jammed up my *REMOVED BY TIGER'S LEGAL STAFF*.
I won't lie, I was guilty as sin on both counts.

NSG, the one place where your opinion is the wrong one if it aint liberal enough for them... unless you're me, I'm well known for generally just despising human rights and the whole idea of entitlement.

Let me put this in perspective for you:
I got banned for calling a (self-admitted!) fifteen-year-old Nazi a "fourteen year old misanthrope". Entirely accurate! Like I said, I was guilty as sin.
He got warned for doing the standard Neo-Nazi "scream about how Obama is a communist and a Muslim and a Jew and all Marxists are Jews and all Marxists are Nazis but Nazis are actually good but communists are evil and Marxism means globalist free-market economies" routine. Seriously, look up the thread I got banned in.
So yeah, this is kind of a bad case case to bring that particular perspective into.

I am Kassaran, scourge of Humanity and abolisher of it's inherent beliefs to be entitled to anything worthwhile.

Funnily enough, I took a three-month class on that very subject! I could loan you some fairly interesting materials on it.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Last one-shot. Next up will be an IC post.

January 29th, 1941
HMS Llamrei Workshop A
1600 Hours

"Ah, Page! Right on time. Glad you could make it."
The Captain strode hurriedly through the door to the workshop as Rutherford, responding to the knock, opened it for him. Once again, the place seemed pretty sleepy - Rutherford was the only one visible inside.
"Thanks, Tony."
Page momentarily looked around the place, eyes scanning for any sign of his requested item.
"So...am I in luck? Did your people get it done?"
At his question, the Flight Sergeant beamed with pride. "Finish it? Bloody hell, he rewrote the damn book. I've never seen something like this - it looks like something right of of those stupid kiddie serials they show before movies, fiendish as hell. I think it's an actual practical improvement on what you're using now, too."

Page heaved an internal sigh of relief, and, at the same time, felt a new knot of concern in his belly. God, here's hoping they got it right - and that it doesn't look too stupid...
"Excellent work, Tony, I know you could do it. Now...where is it?"
Rutherford scratched his head, looking around the benches. "Hrm...I guess Ted must have it. OI! TED! GET OUT HERE, THE CAPTAIN'S HERE TO PICK UP HIS ORDER!"

Off in the corner of the workshop, the door to a side room swung open. From it, another mechanic (or at least somebody with the appearance of one), looking considerably older than both Page and Rutherford, emerged with a box in his hands.

To Page, the new arrival more resembled somebody's cantankerous grandfather or the beloved elder statesman of some middle-of-the-road pub than somebody who belonged on the Llamrei. His mussed white hair and fading-grey mustache clearly gave away his age, but his face was surprisingly unlined - a factor that was effectively cancelled out by his hollow cheeks and tired brown eyes, peering out from behind a pair of thick, round spectacles that could charitably be described as "distinguished" but could uncharitably (and probably more accurately) be described as "granny glasses".

The newcomer deposited the box on the bench, and turned to face Page, grudgingly saluting as he did so. The motion clearly didn't come to naturally to him.
"Captain Page, meet Chief Technician Theodor Mazurkiewicz. Chief Mazurkiewicz, Captain Robert Page."
Rutherford smiled proudly. "Took me two bloody weeks of practice to figure out how to say that name, by the way," he observed, to nobody in particular.

The Chief apathetically but firmly stared Page down. "Thought we'd be dropping this off. So you're the meshugah who came up with this, eh?"
Page nodded, then realized he didn't even understand the question. "I...erm...think so?"
"You'll have to forgive the Sergeant," Rutherford interjected hastily. "He's a Manhattan man, and he simply refuses to speak King's English instead of his little concoction of New Yorkese and Yiddish. Believe me, I've tried to sway him, but he won't budge. Meshugah means 'madman', I think."
"Baldy's right about that, anyways," the Chief grumbled, "but what? You're saying you people speak better English than me? Feh! You people talk too damn much and too pretty, and you never say nothin'. Go hammer some metal or something that'll keep your brain challenged, I got shop to talk."
Rutherford grinned and sauntered off to the other end of the shop, shaking his head as he went.

Page was a bit taken aback by the Chief's brusque manner, but yet there was something he found refreshingly straightforward about it too. "So you're an American?"
"Damn right," he said proudly.
"How'd you end up here?"
The Technician leaned against the bench, speaking in a way that suggested he had answered this question many times before, but enjoyed doing so.
"Well, that's a long story. Suffice it to say that my skills were in demand, because apparently you Brits are reaaaaaaaaaaaaaally hurtin' for outside help, and I was available. You know what I do here? What exactly I do, I mean?"
"What's that?"
The Chief smiled proudly. "I'm the best goddamn military sar-tor-ial-ist in the whole world - that's tailoring work. I mean it. Uniforms, shoes, disguises of all kinds - I do it all. I worked with the US Army for ten years, the US Navy for five, and almost every damn American theater company you can name before that, all making and designing outfits, costumes, everything. There's no better uniform man anywhere, no better outfitter - and no better disguise man, and I mean all that. The Krauts don't have shit on me. You're talking to the best."
The bluster doesn't stop with this one, does it?
Page decided to humor him. "Well, it's lucky you're on our side, then."

Page realized something. "Wait - were you the one who did that Luftwaffe uniform I used back in...Jesus...June? Or July?"
The Chief nodded. "Yup. Some of my best work, there. And for a rush order, no less! Psh, if there weren't a war on, that'd run you hundreds-"
"And the fake mustache? That was you too?"
"Yup."
The Captain felt his upper lip break out in phantom tingles with the memory. "That itched like hell."
"It was a weave. I'm pretty sure I just made it out of dyed wool. I'm not a miracle-worker. Blame the deadline. Or the sheep."
"Jeez," he teased, "you couldn't have pulled out all the stops for something like that? I almost had a damn allergic breakout right in front of two Gestapo officers."
Mazurkiewicz scoffed, idly pulling out a razor blade and cutting the tape on the box open. "Yeah, sure. My deepest apologies. No need to thank me for putting together a uniform that apparently stood up to those same Gestapo bastards out of scratch."
Page laughed uneasily, unsure of whether the New Yorker was actually offended or not. "Hey, I'm just kidding. They worked out great. You did a terrific job - definitely earned your keep. I think I still have that jacket somewhere, actually. Probably get some more use out of it, too. Eventually."

Mazurkiewicz opened the box and removed something roughly the size of a head, wrapped up in packing paper. "...Thanks," he grudgingly muttered. "But you oughta know...this isn't about me earning my keep, or money, or anything like that. I'm doing this for personal reasons. I volunteered for this. I sought you people out, not the other way around, like I 'spect you got drafted into whatever crazy shit you do all day."
Page cocked an eyebrow. "Really? You wanted to make disguises and keep our stuff maintained out here, right in the line of fire, instead of...I don't know...writing your own ticket back home, I suppose?"
"Yup."
"If you don't mind me asking - why? You get bored back there?"

The Chief turned to him, an incredulous half-smile curling the edge of his mouth.
"Cap, you're seriously asking why I - in case you haven't noticed, a Polish Jew who lived in Warsaw for two decades of my life and had family there until a year and a half ago - might have some reason to want to do my best to fuck the Nazis over?"
Page held up his hands. "Good point. That's as good a reason as I can think of, anyway."
"Exactly. Just so we're clear, I'm not meaning to bite your head off. Just lettin' you know where I stand."
"It's appreciated."

Mazurkiewicz sighed. "Okay. Like I said, I finished your order, and as far as I can tell, I think it'll pretty much do everything you told me you wanted it to do. Ugly, heavy piece of work, though - some of the ugliest shit I ever worked on, I tell you what. Mod-u-lar construction, just like you specified - it'll work on the ground just as well as in the air."
Page reached out for the paper-wrapped object. "As long as it gets the job done, I don't care how ugly it is."
"Hey, you're the officer. I just do what I'm told."

Hesitantly, Page unwrapped the thing, the paper came away to reveal a black, leathery object. He turned it the right way around.
An anonymous, yet unsettlingly demonic-looking* visage looked back up at him. Rutherford was right - it really did look like something from out of a serial, worn by a terrifying alien threatening Earth - or maybe it was just the alien's natural face. The eyes were massive, misshapen, and entirely jet-black, matching the "face" as a whole. From the mouth, an unnerving collection of wires and tubes sprouted forth, curling around to the back of the neck, like a spider's legs, or the ganglia of a jellyfish. The dark leather curved all the way around the skull, enveloping the head entirely. Nothing was exposed.

Mazurkiewicz kept talking.
"It's modular in all the ways you wanted. You're looking at it with the tinted lenses in - those can be swapped for clear ones if, you know, you ever want to see something at night, maybe. They should fit all right, but I did have to cannibalize them from an extra pair of Ray-Bans, so, you know, be aware that there may be an odd edge or two. The full-face leather should protect you from glancing shrapnel, dust, debris, smoke in your eyes, things like that, which'll really help you out in an urban situation. Oxygen tank hooks in there, of course, dioxide goes out through those tubes, and I put in a zipper-"
The Chief shuddered visibly here, as though the thought of a zipper was some kind of abomination.
"-for the part of the mask going around your mouth, if you want to pull it off and be able to talk freely. There's another zipper back here at the base of the skull that should allow you to get into the lining, and I had Rutherford whip you up a piece of metal - think it's at the bottom of the box - that should slide right into there and over the top of your head. You're in a combat zone and suddenly get a yen for a helmet? Bam. Theoretically, with the metal in, it's as good as any standard helmet. Might be a bit heavy, but that's the price you pay."
He scratched his head. "Finally, I actually addressed a problem in your original design I don't think you realized - you ever consider how hot it's going to get in that thing? Face-enveloping black leather? Even with your breathing filtered or the mouth-part off, you're going to absolutely cook at any temperature. So, to fix that, I poked a few air holes along the top and bottom in clusters, so a little air can get through. You'll still be sweating like hell, though. It's not gas-proof by a long shot, but I get the feeling that's not really what you were after anyways."
He trailed off.

Page was barely paying attention, He ran his hands over the leather, and lightly tapped one of the lenses with a finger.
"Captain, that's the ugliest piece of kit I've ever worked on, but it should get you through. And if there's a problem, well...assuming it doesn't get you killed, I guess I can whip you up another version, if it's fixable. No idea why you came up with this, though. You ask me, it's a bit of a 'solution in search of a problem', no matter what Rutherford says. Erm...not that you asked me."

"It's not ugly," Page muttered by way of reply. "It's beautiful."
The dead black eyes stared back into his haunted blue ones. This wasn't just a new flight mask - this was an entirely new face. He'd put it on, it would make him something else.
Something anonymous.
Something demonic.
Something inhuman.
"Yes. This will do perfectly."

*Minus the Sabbath regalia. Shame that was such a shitty album.

[Gibberan]

It's awfully quiet round these parts...

[The Tiger Kingdom]

It's awfully quiet round these parts...

Working.
Also, one of my roommates accidentally flipped the wrong breaker a few minutes ago, which doesn't speed anything up.

[Gibberan]

It's awfully quiet round these parts...

Working.
Also, one of my roommates accidentally flipped the wrong breaker a few minutes ago, which doesn't speed anything up.

Last Friday we were in the middle of an SAT test at school when the power went out. Unfortunately, the windows provided sufficient light in the room to continue, according to the teachers.

*sigh*

At least I don't have school tomorrow...

[Morrdh]

Work has seen fit to give me a bunch of 8am starts in a row despite me asking to ask evenings over the Easter holidays.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

And, of course, my internet dies right as I get down to the post, making both research and posting impossible.
Seriously, internet company - screw you. Honestly.
Post coming tonight.

[Kassaran]

And, of course, my internet dies right as I get down to the post, making both research and posting impossible.
Seriously, internet company - screw you. Honestly.
Post coming tonight.

Cue the follow-up post about inabilities to connect to the internet for the rest of "x" amount of time so long as "x" overreaches set deadline and hence stretches out our wait all the more.

Nah, just kidding tigger, though I'm going to laugh hysterically if that happens.

[The Tiger Kingdom]

Simonstown edited to Durban because despite the fact that Simonstown was the major naval port in South Africa during WW2, it's a really fucking long way away from the Magaliesburg.
Seriously, OP, check a map sometime.
You utter prick.

[Monfrox]

Simonstown edited to Durban because despite the fact that Simonstown was the major naval port in South Africa during WW2, it's a really fucking long way away from the Magaliesburg.
Seriously, OP, check a map sometime.
You utter prick.

You should take out your frustration on video games.

That's what I do.

[Gibberan]

Simonstown edited to Durban because despite the fact that Simonstown was the major naval port in South Africa during WW2, it's a really fucking long way away from the Magaliesburg.
Seriously, OP, check a map sometime.
You utter prick.

You should take out your frustration on video games.

That's what I do.

When I'm frustrated I just fold things into triangles until I feel calm again.

It's weird

[Kouralia]

Now hear thish: All handsh, prepare for docking. All passhengersh, prepare for immediate dishembarkation.

I'm in love.

[Monfrox]

You should take out your frustration on video games.

That's what I do.

When I'm frustrated I just fold things into triangles until I feel calm again.

It's weird

1000 paper cranes?

[Gibberan]

When I'm frustrated I just fold things into triangles until I feel calm again.

It's weird

1000 paper cranes?

I've never been that mad yet