Dreamer Duck

 

A fan made video

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Oh, What A Life

Prologue

 

The cockpit filled with the dark, dense smoke, as I realised my plane was pointed towards the ground. Panic grew at the pit of my stomach, the cold spreading throughout my body as my stomach clenched tightly. I felt sick to my stomach, but I could not let the panic override my senses just yet. I was a trained soldier after all, and every second counted. My head ached from where it had hit the glass of the cockpit from the sheer force of the bullet which had penetrated the front of my plane from the German's plane. The Schwarz Teger no doubt, I knew that much. I needed to get a clear view of where the plane was heading, in hopes of perhaps getting the plane to land safely enough for the impact to not explode the plane. Sadly, as I coughed, I couldn't make anything out, the smoke too thick for my watering eyes to see. I could do nothing but pray for a miracle.

 

I had been in a dead lock with the Schwarz Teger from the first day my plane took off into the skies over Italy. Thinking back, it might have only been a few months prior, but it was still fresh in my mind. I could still see the pilot of the Schwarz Teger taking off the his mask as he gestured widly at me. He must have been cursing at me as he glared, but I could only laugh at his attempt as I out manuevered him once again. The months after was nothing but a game of cat and mouse to be honest, with both of us switching roles depending on the mission. Of course we both came pretty close to being killed on several occassions, but the death of a fighter pilot during the Second World War was considered pretty normal. The soldiers on the ground seemed to romanticise our job, but we were putting our lives on the line just like those below us. It was anything but pretty up in the skies, but we had to defend them if we were ever going to defeat the Germans and their Nazi reign. 

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“Aem-Will! How coud ya expect us to suddenly go backwithout a clear explanation as to why ya can't come back with us," Sam said when the message was told to him over the radio. 

 

"Amelie could have almost hit Sam for almost revealing her cover. No one was supposed to know that she was a girl. Sure they were on a secure line as far as the radio was concerned, but even then she still had to wonder if they were really safe from being heard by others. Why else would they have had to bribe all those people through basic training and a few other times in order to make sure she made it this far? Of course after her flyings kills, she would have assumed that the Army wouldn't let her go that easly, at least she hoped they wouldn't. Instead, she was dressed like a boy and even attempted to act like one; the later not being hard to accomplish since she was a tomboy at heart. 

 

"Sam, I know you mean well, but you just have to trust me. Don't make me order you to leave me if things get ugly. As a fellow fighter pilot and as a friend just listen to me for once. If we engage in combat and there's no way of winning you have to go back. I know it's hard, but I'll manage some how. Remember I'm a tough nut to crack. Besides, the Allies don't need to lose more than one person because of a plane malfunction," Amelia said with a hint of sadness in he voice. 

 

The radio crackled for a few minutes as she expected a few more people to protest the request. It was oddly silent. Since when was her crew, Canon Fodder as a few liked to call them, anything but loud? Right. How could they not be when they just learned their leader's plane was having malfunctions and her gas tank had a leak in it? What were they supposed to say? There were already in enemy territory across Italy and knew better than to come back without completing their mission But what did that mean for their leader?

 

"Then lets have you bloody land and one of us can give you a lift. God knows you are pretty tiny enough. You'll easily fit in one of laps," came the rather gruff voice of Jared, whose British upbringing was coming into play. "Don't be daft." 

 

"You know that won't work. How can you fight with someone else in the cockpit. Look, I'll just land and figure out-" 

 

"Will! Look out!" Valter cried out into the radio, making Amelia's ears ring. 

 

The reason for the out cry was simple, the enemy had reared it's ugly head at just the wrong moment. Cursing, Amelia heard the shots being fired at them. Just their luck really, she thought as she sighed. How was she supposed to even fight with her plane not listening to her? The control stick was jammed, her fuel almost on empy, yet she still had her squad to lead. Right, it was time to make some descisions. 

 

"Sa, be the wing man for Valter. You know how he gets when he first fights. Jared, stay close to me. We'll about giving these Krauts a run for their money," Amelia ordered as she waited for their response. 

 

"No worries Cap'! We got yar back," Sam said ratherly proudly as Amelia watched his plane with the usual pinup girl with a beer tankard on the tail, glide easily towards the plane with a pinup girl saluting with a lollipop. 

 

"Thanks Sam," Amelia said thankful for the way her squad listened to her even with the impending doom that seemed to loom over them. 

 

With a sigh of relief she was ready to face whatever was going to come at them. It was the news Jared brought to her through the crackling radio which made her want to kick herself into thinking they were even remotely going to stand a chance of all making it out aive.

 

"Amelia...the Schwarz Teger is here," Jared said calmly, but there was a hint of a question which was on the tip of his tongue. Would they have to leave Amelia to deal with the threat alone? 

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Spots. That’s what covered my eyes as I attempted to regain my senses after the crash. It hadn’t been as bad as I had anticipated, but still it hurt. My arm hurt along with my head. When I attempted to uncurl myself from the protective ball my body curled up into, pain coursed through my body. It throbbed from my arm, sending more spots to cloud my vision. I could see part of the cockpit glass had broken and embedded itself into my arm. Great, now I had to worry about getting an infection along with getting away from the German who had shot me down.

 

Smoke was still clouding the cockpit. Eyes watering and the dark spots that filled my vision did nothing to help me see more than a few inches from my face. If I didn’t get the cockpit open soon, I would die from the smoke. Gropping for the latch to open the cockpit, I found it after a coughing fit.

 

Instantly, I greedily gulped down the fresh air, coughing in between as smoke still filled the cockpit as it escaped in a rather large cloud up towards the sky. At least I was still alive, but I needed to look after my arm before anything else. Once I got enough air, I quickly went back into the cockpit, seeing the Schwarz Teger landing not far from me. What was he thinking? Ignoring it for the moment, I braced myself before I pulled out the shard in my arm. Clenching my teeth, I stiffled the cry in my throat, turning it into a loud moan as I quickly put pressure on the wound. If anyone back home decided to call me weak again I would seriously punch them in the face.

 

I quickly took a strip from shirt that I had torn before taking out the glass and wrapped it around the wound haphazardly. I didn’t have much time considering the German pilot was probably already on his way to my plane. I still couldn’t believe she was shot down. I had the Blue Fortune since right after training. Leaning back in my chair I wondered what my next move would be. If I ran I would get shot instantly, but if I stayed in the cockpit the same thing could be done. Sighing, I tried to think of anything that would at least keep me alive a little longer. My thoughts turned toward my squad and wondered if they had turned around and gotten away.

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“Amelia, ya have to come an’ fly with us,” pleaded Sam as he sat on the steps of one of the planes they regularly flew right behind Amelia’s backyard.

 

“I can’t. I’m a woman, I shouldn’t even be flying around here. If it wasn’t for the owner and my father letting me fly, I wouldn’t be right now,” Amelia pointed out as she cleaned the plane Sam sat on.

 

“But, we make the best team,” Valter pointed out as he started to try and tune the radio that sat on a card table in the hanger.

 

“You know, we could bribe thm,” Jared offered, knowing that once people saw her talent it wouldn’t matter if she was a female since the airforce was desperate for flyers at this point. Not because the Allies were losing the war of course. “It wouldn’t take much.”

 

“I know bribery is something we can do, but there is so much risk,” Amelia had no intention of actually going into war with the rest of them.

 

Women were forbidding to partake in the battle, instead they were allowed to join the Red Cross or help ferry certain things, but none of them would see battles. A small sigh came from Valter as he gave up on the radio. Amelia knew it was going to be hard if they continued asking her to come along, but what was there to do? If anyone found out the truth, it would not only be her head, but those around her. After years of practicing and learning from Simon, an old World War I veteran who owned the hanger, she was a better flyer than most. She had proved it a few times when it came to racing among the four of them.

 

“Would ya at least think about it?” Sam asked as he slowly got up. Glancing at his watch, he quickly looked towards Jared. “Come on, we gotta go and get ready. We only have another two days before we’re shipped out.”

 

“Right,” Jared pushed off the wall he had been leaning against and walked toward Amelia, ruffling her hair. “We would protect you if you came. We know the risk, but we would do it because we would listen to your orders.”

 

Amelia only shook her head. “What would I say to my mom?”

 

“Tell them you’re doing what you can for your country,” Valter said with a smile before taking one of the cleaning rags out of Amelia’s hands and drapped it over her shoulders before heading out of the hanger for home.

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I could hear the heavy boots from the German. They were standard issue, just like the pair I owned. With every crunch on the ground he made, I tried even harder to come up with some type of plan in hopes of getting out of this mess. But what could I do with a banged up head and one useless arm? Still, I had to think of a way of getting away. I still had my pistol right? I could shoot with my left arm. Sure I might not have been the greatest shot with my left hand, but at least I would still be given a chance at life right?

 

Trying to ignore the throbbing in my arm and the already blood soaked bandage, I attempted to locate my pistol. Normally it would have been secured in its hostle at my hip, but with my stature, it tended to pinch into my side inside the plane. So I usually secured it somewhere behind me. Yet as I turned around to grab it, I heard the familar sound of a pistol being cocked not from me.

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“Will, you better get a move on!” called out the Staff Sergeant to Amelia, as she attempted to keep up with the other men.

 

She had passed the inspection with bribery thanks to the others in her unti, but that did litte when it came to basic. How they had twisted her into doing this was still beyond her, but before she left home, her mother already knew. She had been supportive, telling Amelia that he was something she had already forseen, even her dead father said something to the same effect before he, himself had been shipped off to the war. But she had never thought basic had been something like this. Sure her father had her train a bit before she was allowed in the plane, but basic almost broke one’s spirit. Amelia had endured penalty and punishments for not being able to keep up, but she knew in the long run it would only make her stronger. Jared, Sam, and Valter were horrified with some of the punishments, but knew if they said anything, well it would give Amelia away. Instead, they found a few ways to help her, mainly but doing a few extra training exercises during their free time.

 

It didn’t take much for her to catch up with the others, not with her stubborn strike and tendancy to not let others tell her she can’t do something. In fact, her Staff Sergeant knew this and tended to push her even further after the first week of improvement.

 

Once the boys were finally able to fly, it was Amelia’s time to shine. It was strange to think she was among some of the best flyers within the unit, but she had to remember, not everyone had Simon telling them what to do all the time. She would make him proud as she flew the different exercises. Making it into the top fifteen by the end of basic made her feel very accomplished indeed, but she couldn’t have done it without the help of her trusty plane. It would be a sad day when she finally had to say good bye, but it was soon overshadowed by the arrival of the new planes. They were mostly the same, with a few exceptions, which depended on where the top five flyers were headed. But Amelia loved her new plane. So did the other recruits.

 

Within the week, she and the others had already nicknamed their planes and started customizing the planes. Hers was the Blue Fortune with a pin-up girl. In her hair was the Blue Fortune flower and a butterfly on her shoulders. It was strange to see the butterfly one morning, but the rest of the unit thought it appropriate since she did seem to flit about in the air better than most. The others soon followed with their own designs. Now they were all ready to fly in the air.

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“Come out vit your hands up!” came the gruff voice of the German pilot.

 

The heavy German accent was apparent in the English that he spoke, but I supposed I was rather glad that he spoke English. I knew some German, considering that I had first wanted to be a translator to help the Army, but of course when my friends needed me, I quickly scraped that idea. Besides, this way would be easier to communicate and hopefully there would be no miscommuncaiton which would more than likely end with my death. Staying silent, I stuck my unhurt arm out of the cockpit. My arm hurt too much to even stretch it a little, so it stayed craddled against my chest and I slowly poked my head out. Sure enough, the pistol was aimed right where my head had popped out. But oddly enough he had to pull the trigger.

 

“I said, your hands up! Vhere is your ozer hand?” he said, raising his weapon a little higher.

 

I sighed before showing him the bandaged arm. Looking down at the unraveling bandage, I knew it wouldn’t last. Still, I kept as silent as before not wanting to say anything that could potentially get me killed or even worse, give him information that the Kraut might actually be able to use against the Allies. He motioned for me to climb down from the cockpit and join him ont he ground. How was I supposed to do that with a badly hurt arm? I glared at him, but did as he instructed, wincing all the way down and almost falling once or twice. So he was planning to kill me outside of my plane. How thoughtful of him.

 

“I’ve been after you for veeks. Vhy vere you flying so strangely today?” he asked without shouting or even shooting at me. I blinked in surprise.

 

I raised my one good arm and cradled the other against my chest. I didn’t have any reason to tell him about my plane trouble. Not like it mattered since the Blue Fortune was shot down. Now that it was in enemy terrority it would never fly again unless by some miraculous reason the Allies got a hold of my plane and were able to fix it up.

 

“My name is William Matthews, Rank Second Lieutenant, Serial number 293/575,” I said cooly to the German. The blond man only raised an eyebrow at me. He didn’t seem at all surprised, if not a little tired. But during the war who wasn't tired?

 

“Fine, be zat vay. It von’t matter vhere you are going anyvay,” the German said as he lifted the hand which carried the pistol.

 

Great, I was going to be shot now. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly I waited for what was the inevitable. Darkness engulfed my vision as I felt yet another throbbing pain on my head instead of the piercing pain I thought a bullet would have felt like.

 

 

 

 

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