Entry: June 5, 1941

June 5th, 1941

Syracuse, Sicily

This was just in from the telegraph office a few days after my escape from the POW camp...

"BERLIN: KMS Bismarck SUNK! stop. 110 German sailors now prisoners! stop. Only Tirpitz is still afloat. stop. This is the ship that sunk the HMS HOOD a few days earlier. stop."

wow... of a crew of about 2000, only 110 survived. Sad indeed. While reading the telegram, I had a bit of a flash back while coming out of the telegraph office...

June 4th, 1941

I had left Saldina at her hotel late that night...
"Good night, Johannas." she said and smiled sweetly.
"Good night, Salinda." I responded and returned her smile.
After this, I soon caught up with Hans in the hotel bar. He was quite drunk, and was in no shape to drive us back to base. I found the kubelwagen parked outside and quickly picked his weighted body up and slung him over my shoulder. "My my, Hans. What have you've been up to?" I whispered to myself. I threw him to the passenger seat, and I retrieved the keys from him. The entire car shook as I started the puttering engine. I drove his drunken $@#! back to base, alarming the guard in the process. I presented my and Hans' I.D. The guard, almost asleep, let us pass into the base and I drove us to the barracks. "Hans." I said as I tugged at his uniform. He only gave a short moan before returning to his sleep. Again, I grabbed him by his uniform. Again, he was unresponsive. Plucking out my canteen from behind me, I emptied in on to Hans' face. This time, he awoke. Eyes blazing bloody red, he gave a yelp before he was sober. "Johannas? Where are we?" he inquired.
"At base. I found you completely drunk at the hotel bar..." I responded in a hushed tone.
Before I could finish explaining what had happened, Hans got up and lazily made a bee line for the barracks. I returned the car as quickly as I could, as quietly as I could. I made my way back to the barracks and fell asleep after I had found my bunk.

The next morning started like any ordinary day; the birds sung their sweet songs like that of an orchestra, the air was sweet from the morning dew, and the sun's piercing rays had not yet fully penetrated the horizon. I got up and did my morning tidying up; making the bunk, brushing my teeth, etc... After a hearty breakfast, I reported to the briefing room.
"Ah, Johannas! Just the man I was looking for! Please, sit." Said the colonel.
I took my seat and he went on explaining about the mission for today..
"It's been pushed back, I'm afraid. The bombers are having problems with their engines, so you have today all to yourself." He said. "But the new engines are expected to arrive by today, so they'll be up by tomorrow. Dismissed!" I saluted the colonel and exited the tent. I went to my plane and talked to the crew chief. I remarked that I had a different plane than that of what I had in North Africa. The plane was painted differently and had it's sand filter removed.
"It's still your plane." said the chief."Same layout, same guns, same cannon, only a different color!" After this, I made my way back to Syracuse. It was near noon by the time I met up with Salinda. She was in the market place, as I found her before. This time, we recognized each other immediately. We held one another for what seemed like an eternity. She then invited me to have lunch with her, I agreed with a smile. We ate and started to converse about the things happening at home and at war. When I asked how her uncle was, she started to cry. I went over to her and I tried to comfort her.
"He's dead" she finally said. "Killed when the Bismarck sunk." She then buried herself into my shoulder and cried. The birds stopped their songs of joy and now sounded like weeping, the sky was then darkened to a grey shade, and it let loose it's payload of rain. Luckily, I bought my umbrella and we left the restaurant. I went around, looking for a dry place to sit down. I found a park bench under a gazebo, and we sat there until the rain stopped. All the while, Salinda was still crying on my shoulder and I was trying my best to comfort her. She and her uncle were quite close, if I recall. He was one of her closet of friends. The man practically raised her when the "Great Depression" set in, and supported her family when they ran into the troubles. He had sent her though school and found her a job during those trying times. Now he was dead, somewhere intombed in the massive wreckage of the once mighty Bismarck.
When the storm subsided, Salinda had stopped crying. It was already near dinnertime, so we settled on Italian food once again. After the meal, I took her to her vacation house and we parted ways.

Entry: June 3, 1941

June 3rd, 1941

Syracuse, Sicily

Ah, Sicily. This island in the Mediterranean offers a stark contrast to north Africa. The island is alike an emerald compared to north Africa. Grass grows and flows like that of a river whenever the wind blows. The sea breeze brings with it, the sweet, blissful taste of salt. It is nothing like the arid north Africa. Syracuse is like most large Italian cities, narrow alleyways seem to go on forever, fountains of glistening marble every other block or so, and a hearty kitchen, with it's arsenal of aromas, entices mind, soul, and body. My base is about 5km from this lovely city. Thankfully, bad weather over Grand Harbor, Malta has forced all planes to remain grounded until tomorrow. Taking advantage of this, me and Hans decided to explore this city today. We got up early, Hans had already asked for use of a Kublewagen. With that granted, we made our way to the city. We sped pass olive groves and pastoral lands. When we got to the city, me and Hans decided to part ways. Hans had letters to send back home, so I decided to take a stroll around the marketplace. As I was inspecting a batch of tomatoes, I looked up and turned around. Standing next to me was Saldina! "Saldina?" I enquired. "Johannas? Is it really you?" She replied. "Yes, it's me Saldina!" I exclaimed. We quickly held one another in each other's arms. We strolled around the city, hand in hand. While I still retained my drabby airman's uniform, she was dressed in a illustrious blue dress. So blue was this dress, that every time the wind blew, it looked like waves upon the ocean.

We strolled around the city, this city by the sea.
How the blue hues dressed upon her and me.
And in this city, this city by the sea, all was calm, and all was fine.
And by the time the church bells chimed, we were already lost in each other's eyes.
And of this beautiful city, this city by the sea, where the gardens abound with lustrous green! And with all this green, none were lean.
All sparkled with the brilliance of scheen.
And of all the flowers, and the all bees, the birds sing along, all to their sweet melody. And in this city, this city by the sea, all was rich, vibrant, and all deemed, that this one city, this city by the sea, was made for the one who chases his dreams...

Entry: June 2, 1941

June 2nd, 1941

Syracuse, Sicily

Well, I finally got back from that horrid prison and I am surprised to know that my squadron was moved to Sicily to escort our bombers to raid Malta. However, before I get into that, I will recall the daring operation that freed me from that prison camp...

May 25th, 1941

10km west of Alexandria, Egypt

After the ordeal in the prison, I was drugged. It must have been the water I was given. Anyway, I passed out and woke up in the prison camp. "Welcome to Alexandria!" greeted a guard. Again, I was in a cell, as like before. I was asked my name, rank, and everything else pertaining to my identity and that of my squadron. After that, a British officer went into the cell I was in and he started to ask me questions about Hitler. He asked me about our supply convoy routes, how many planes we had, where Rommel was, etc. I lied to his face. The officer bought it and left without further adieu. I was kept in the cell, only released from them for exercise. Other than that, we did manufacture some parts. Parts of ships, planes, tanks, etc. We were inspected after work for anything we could smuggle in and use to escape. I was honest, and continued until the 30th.

May 30th, 1941

10km east of Alexandria, Egypt

Ahhh, this day I will remember for the rest of my life. It started out rather normally. We got our breakfast, showered, did our things, etc. I was in the machine shop, when all of a sudden, the guards were shot. I didn't know from where, but one by one, the guards fell from their watch towers and from the parapet. Then, the familiar sound of our 8.8 cm guns with 37mm cannon. When enough smoke had cleared, I saw about 45 German and Italian commandos storm the complex. All of the cells were opened. "GO! GO! GO!" yelled one of the commandos. The guards were no match for the commandos and surrendered quickly. All the POWs were evacuated from the complex, myself included. All the prisoners went though the holes made by the heavy guns, and we saw that a u-boat and a small flotilla of Italian torpedo boats were on the shore. I went for the closest torpedo boat. Others had to be evacuated via landing barge. By the end of the day, the prison complex was ablaze and demolition charges were detonated. There was little left of the prison. It took us a good 6 hours to get to Axis occupied Crete. The Royal Navy were unable to catch us, even with their MTB's. After a few things were sorted, I was informed that my squadron had moved to Sicilly and that I was eagerly expected by my squadron. I was given passage to Syracuse via Me-323 Gigant. By the 1st of June, I was already re-attached to the squadron. By the time I had gotten back to base, Hans warmly greeted me, as well as our new replacements. We celebrated and was informed that a mission was scheduled on the 5th of June.

Off we go into Grand Harbor, Malta!

Entry: May 21, 1941

May 21st, 1941

???

When I came to, I was locked in a cell. I was now a POW. "Drat!" I thought to myself. Suddenly, a thud of a door reverberated thoughout the prison. 2 British guards, both armed with rifles and side arms, walked over to my cell. "What is your name?" asked one of the guards in his thick accent. "Johannas Wendler" I replied, in the best english I could muster up. The guard gave a funny look at me. In fluent german, he asked "Who is your flight's commander?" "I am" I quickly replied. I then inspected my broken ankle. "Do you have a medic with you?" I asked. The British laughed heartily, and left me alone in my cell. A few hours later, another guard came with the medic. The medic patched me up quick and left. The guard handed me a loaf of bread and some water. Then they left as well. And with that, I spent a few weeks in the miserable cell before I had gotten a transfer to another prison camp near Alexandra, Egypt...

Entry: May 20, 1941

May 20th, 1941

200km west from Libyan / Egyptian border

Alright, how did I get in this mess? One second, I was over Libya, pursuing 3 Hurricanes going west. Hans was on my right and flying element lead. Let me go back a bit. Wilhelm was transferred to a squadron operating out of Italy to bomb Malta on the 18th. Hence, I'm now the wing commander and got a promotion to Hauptmann. With that, we were given the task of an aircraft intercept 10km from the Egyptian border. Our replacement aircraft were delivered on the 17th, albeit with flaws. The engines where prone to catch fire, and the sand filters either clogged up with dust and sand or let in all the debris. The crew chief already told me before hand about the engine problems, and that 1 of the 20mm cannon had a faulty breech. High Command wanted results from us. Even though we told them of our situation, they still wanted a mission by the 20th or we will be disbanded. We had little choice. On the 20th, at about 6:00 local time, we took off. My plane still had the faulty 20mm cannon, but the crew chief didn't load it. We took off into a sandstorm. Visibility was poor and we had to fly above the storm to prevent further engine damage. When we were 20km from the mission point, we spotted our quarry; 4 Wellington medium bombers and 6 escorting Hurricane fighters. The skies were clear, except below where the sandstorm continued its fury. Eagerly wanting results, I rashly ordered my 4 Me-109's to attack. This time, we weren't so lucky. The Hurricanes, seeing our approach, broke into divisions of 2. I busied myself with a Wellington. However, a Hurricane snuck in behind me and shot my tail off. Out of control and spinning towards the ground, I quickly bailed out of my plane. While falling, I saw Hans shooting down the Hurricane that attacked me. Then, nothing. I had fallen into the furious sandstorm. The winds battered my body, arms and legs flailing like flags in the wind. I quickly pulled the cord for my parachute, but the wind pushed me farther in behind enemy lines. I landed, hard. I had broken my ankle. The pain was intolerable, and I yelled in anger and agony, only to have the sound wisked away by the fury of the storm. I pulled my parachute over me, in an attempt to shelter myself from the fury of the winds. I pulled the parachute over my head and hid in it. Exhausted, I threw my head against the parachute. Then, for no reason, I had remembred my girlfriend, Salinda."Salinda..." I whispered to myself as I tried to remember her the best I could. Within a few moments, I passed out......

To be Continued...

Entry: May 15, 1941

May 15th, 1941

200km East of Tobruk

Apparently, our forward base got hit by the SAS and LRDG late last night. All our equipment, from our compasses to our radio, were sabotaged by the daring SAS. Our planes were also sabotaged, mine included. The engine was severely damaged, control surfaces shot up, and the guns and cannon were melted with thermite. I must say, these British were quite ingenious in using thermite to sabotage the weapons on our planes. It will take us some days before an airdrop can be achieved, since there is still a sandstorm as I write this. In the meantime, all we can do is wait until our replacement parts come in via airdrop or truck convoy...

Entry: May 10, 1941

May 10th, 1941

200km East of Tobruk

We've been moved to a forward base near the Libyan/Egyptian boarder. We are now a front line fighter group. We've been given today as a day of rest. I've been promoted to Oberleutenant thanks, in part, to my 3 kills so far. My company commander has assured me many more kills over this area. The siege of Tobruk is still underway, with limited success. As we await orders, I go around my plane and inspect it. It practically still looks brand new; no bullet holes, no engine problems, and the paint's still on. Wilheim has his wounds fully healed and is still the leader of my element. Today, we got our letters from home; one of them from my dear Salinda:

"Dear Johannas,
I hope you are doing well. Word is that the Russians are starting to mount a stronger resistance on the eastern front. Hitler's SS guards, however, continue to be more and more racist to the Jews. Just last week, a band of Hitler's secret police arrested the Jewish family next door. They haven't been heard from since. Rumors continue to circulate about Hitler's "death camps". My younger brother has joined the Hitler Youth, he looks ridiculous in his uniform. What do these Nazis teach? I must wonder. In the meantime, I do hope this war will end soon. I can't wait to see you again

-Salinda"

Indeed, what do these Nazi's support? Do these "death camps" really exist? What of her Jewish neighbors? Were they sent there? And, does Hitler know about this? So many questions, so little time.....

Entry: May 7, 1941

May 7th, 1941

South of Tobruk

With my kill report now confirmed by the Luftwaffe, I'm awarded the Iron Cross. And with that, another opportunity to keep adding kills to my belt. Today, a final mission to Tobruk. Wilhelm suffered injuries whilst helping the ground crew chief with the engine. He suffered extensive burns to his hands and to his arm. He's sent to the infirmary and is expected to fight again in a few short weeks. In the meantime, I was granted permission to be flight leader for this mission; a fighter sweep north of Tobruk and over the Mediterranean Sea. We took off from base, encountering fierce flak while passing over the port of Tobruk. "Johannas! Don't take this route again!" cried Hans, my wingman (now element lead in the finger 4 formation). Fortunately, none of my flight was hit, and we pushed on to our destination. Over the deep blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea, we spotted our quarry; a flight of 4 British Hurricanes, and a lone C-47 Dakota transport plane. There was some cloud cover between us and the British. I then got us into the clouds and surveyed the situation. "The British must be transporting something in that plane; it must be critical supplies!" I thought to myself. I quickly noticed that the British were maintaining their heading, a good sign that they didn't see us. The adrenaline was taking it effect; "ATTACK! ATTACK!!" I yelled over the radio, and the flight quickly split up. Everyone dove towards the British, 2 of us scoring hits against the escorting Hurricanes; 1 was quickly turned into a ball of flame and plummeted towards the blue sea. The other three retaliated; but they failed to even get near our tails! The 3 surviving Hurricanes were quickly shot down, I managed to shoot down 1 of the 3. Then, I remembered the C-47 and it's supplies for the British troops. We hastily reformed into the characteristic finger 4 formation and followed the lumbering hulk's last known bearing. Within minutes, we spotted it. Without wasting a single second, I closed the range and shot the hulk full of holes. Within a second, the plane was full of holes, smoking, and was burning. It soon crashed into the sea. Finally, we got back to base. As it turns out, the C-47 was carrying vital supplies; much needed ammunition and top secret documents about our lines, i.e. our types of tanks, supply lines, and other information pertaining to us. With the mission over, I did all the required paperwork and filed in the report. As I made my way to the infirmary to see how Wilhelm was doing, I saw Hans, watching the bombardment of Tobruk. "Like the fireworks?" I asked Hans.
"You know, we won't win this war", Hans ominously predicted," And it's all Hitler's fault."
I scoffed at the notion, and went on to see Wilhelm. He was recovering quickly, already for the next mission. As the sun sets, I ponder on Hans' prediction...

Entry: May 4, 1941

May 4th, 1941

South of Tobruk

Today we got our first taste of combat. We were escorting He-111 to Tobruk. When the bombers were finished with their bombing runs, 4 Hurricanes came screeching in! Guns blazing, one of the bombers was heavily damaged but escaped. I was element lead in the finger four formation of us. In a heartbeat, I heard the command to break and to engage the Hurricanes. I saw one trying to get behind a bomber. However, the gunners on board the lumbering hulk forced the nimble fighter to break left. I followed suit and gave chase after him. Hans, my wingman, continued to follow me and protecting my tail from any would be fighter ace. I closed in as close as I could, and let rip my cannons and machine guns. The nimble Hurricane then crashed into the arid desert below. The rest of the flight of Hurricanes fled and our flight formed up and made for home. The flight leader, Wilhelm, congratulated me for my first kill of the war, and that he expected more kills in the future. It was relatively quite for the rest of the evening, since the SAS and the LRDG were out trying to sabotage our equipment.

Entry: May 3, 1941

May 3rd, 1941

South of Tobruk

We managed to get our Me-109's relocated to a forward base near Tobruk. It's a short flight to the besieged port. Hopefully, the British and their Commonwealth will get smart and surrender this port. The port has been under siege since April of this year. In the meantime, our troops on the Eastern Front are encountering fiercer resistance from the Soviets. Also, Malta is being bombed on a regular basis. If we get this island, we could finally have full control of the Mediterranean! Today, I decided to take a look at my Me-109. The ground crew has re-painted the plane to a tan top and a baby blue belly. The crew chief asked me what color I wanted the prop spinner to be. I decided to keep it white until I could decide on a color. The heavy guns roared unto the night. It's going to be hard to get any sleep...

Entry: May 2, 1941

May 2nd, 1941

Somewhere in Lybia...

Our fellow bomber pilots raided Tobruk yesterday. They did considerable damage to the port and sunk some ships that were in the harbor. We've been asked to move closer to Tobruk to help our forces achieve air superiority over the port. Also, our paratroopers managed to land in Crete in Operation Mercury. Only time will tell if they will capture the island....

Entry: May 1, 1941

May 1st, 1941:

Somewhere in Lybia....

Finally, after 5 months of training, I've finally been given a ME-109. She's a beauty; fast, agile, and packs 2 20mm cannon in the wings with an aditional 2 7.92mm machine guns in the nose. The first assingment given to the squadron was a basic fighter sweep. Taking off from the forbidding African desert, we found nothing. Tommy decided it wasn't a good day to fight, apprently. We got back to base, hoping that our Italian allies would fight harder with our support...

<---My Me-109 in flight.

Disclosure!

ok, srsly. I'm not a WWII vet. I'm a HS student of Rancho High of Las Vegas Nevada. If there are any historical inaccuricies (ie, screwed up dates ect..) This is ment as a historical fiction writing. please feel free to contact me and do point it out. Thank you!
also, photographs are actually screenshots from CFS3, with MAW theater addon.


-Reguards

credits

Julian E. Reymus- writer
MAW Dev. Team (aka, the Desert Rats) -photographs