ATAG_Snapper
Jan-04-2012, 18:41
So.
Thought I'd sneak in an hour or so online today. Lo and behold! A Spitfire IIa available at Manston with MY name on it. How sweet is that? :thumbsup:
With practised ease I quickly run through the start up procedure and fire her up. While warming up inside a hangar I adjust my gun sight, set my compass, all the while listening intently on Teamspeak for indications of what's what out there. As my water temp nears 60 C I begin to ease my Spit out the hangar, being very careful not to catch my spinning prop on the ground as I cross the threshold bump of the hangar.
Like the experienced ace I am I quickly look to the left and right, ensuring that no one has spawned beside me. Not wishing to dally any longer for fear of a lurking 109, I gun my purring Merlin into a howling snarl with a smooth forward motion of the throttle -- borne of countless take offs before. Skilfully countering the engine's torque-swing with deft toe dancing on my rudder pedals, I gently ease the stick forward to lift my tail. In response, my Spit's long nose lowers accordingly to reveal: an idling Hurricane! I figure I t-boned Forca at an honest 70 mph! Oops.
Forca was a true gentleman as I spluttered my red-faced apologies. He didn't even mention the 3 minute respawn time penalty I'm sure he was accorded due to my, uh, little foible.
Sorry, Forca!!! :eek:
Thought I'd sneak in an hour or so online today. Lo and behold! A Spitfire IIa available at Manston with MY name on it. How sweet is that? :thumbsup:
With practised ease I quickly run through the start up procedure and fire her up. While warming up inside a hangar I adjust my gun sight, set my compass, all the while listening intently on Teamspeak for indications of what's what out there. As my water temp nears 60 C I begin to ease my Spit out the hangar, being very careful not to catch my spinning prop on the ground as I cross the threshold bump of the hangar.
Like the experienced ace I am I quickly look to the left and right, ensuring that no one has spawned beside me. Not wishing to dally any longer for fear of a lurking 109, I gun my purring Merlin into a howling snarl with a smooth forward motion of the throttle -- borne of countless take offs before. Skilfully countering the engine's torque-swing with deft toe dancing on my rudder pedals, I gently ease the stick forward to lift my tail. In response, my Spit's long nose lowers accordingly to reveal: an idling Hurricane! I figure I t-boned Forca at an honest 70 mph! Oops.
Forca was a true gentleman as I spluttered my red-faced apologies. He didn't even mention the 3 minute respawn time penalty I'm sure he was accorded due to my, uh, little foible.
Sorry, Forca!!! :eek: