Watch out below!
Air Warrior, Spring 2000

For a few years I was somewhat addicted to an Internet WWII Aviation game called Air Warrior.  I was flying, on the Internet, against buddies all over the world.  At any given moment there were hundreds of folks flying, solo or working with others, defending or attacking in the skies over one of the 3 Air Warrior countries. It was very challenging and it was huge fun.

Imagine, for example, that you and your fighter have linked up with a buddy flying in a bomber. The pilot is a guy you've flown with, laughed and cried with, perhaps even had a beer with, for years.  His son, off at a distant college is manning the bomber's tail gun.  Another buddy, this guy from far away New Zealand, pulls up in another fighter to help you escort them on this attack mission.  

Working together is all about communication.  Either by voice or typing, the four of you are communicating constantly. Talking strategy, contingency plans, or about that girl (or boy) that hasn't returned your phone call.  You get tight with these people, most of whom you will never meet. They're your buddies. Air Warrior is about buddies.

"My room" was on the 3rd floor of our row-house. I had installed a little window air-conditioner to help with the top-floor heat load. It was a small unit, but it was right behind me so it worked perfectly to keep me cool as I played for hours--generally while my wife was out of town, asleep, or watching TV.

I'd gotten my neighbor "Murph," hooked on Air Warrior too.  There were in the next row-house and his computer was also set up on his third floor. In fact our windows were so close you can almost reach out and touch the other.

My personal preference ran to Focke Wulf's  The FW family of fighters, FW190A4, A8, and D9, were not efficient in a dog fight. They bled energy something fierce in a turn, causing loss of speed or altitude, or both. Therefore the FW pilot avoided getting stuck in a dogfight. If you couldn't settle it in a turn or two, it was time to go, and god help you if you didn't retain enough energy to break away.  The FW 190A4 had a mean set of guns and was efficient enough to go a few additional turns in a dogfight. The FW190A8, however, was a tank. In a turn it bled energy like a sieve but no opposing fighter could withstand even a short burst of the A8's huge firepower.

That particular day I was flying an FW190A4 at high altitude and heading for "indian country." I looked down and happened to see Murph flying in the same direction, but at low altitude. Heading into the other country at low altitude wasn't survivable, so I puzzled over his intent.  I called to him, "Murph, good to see you man, but you better gain some altitude or you're hosed."

No response.

"Yo Murph."

No response.

"Murph!"

"MURPH!"

"What the fuck was going on?" I wondered. He was down there committing suicide.

I couldn't just fly away and leave him though. He was a buddy. At the least I could hang around for a bit and do the best I could to either get him to climb, or keep enemy planes off of him.

As we crossed the border into an enemy country I started calling him again.  "Murph, Murph, for Christ's sake answer me, Murph," I repeated several times. This was looking bad.  Certainly it was going to be hard to protect him, but if we couldn't work together, it was going to be impossible.

And then I saw it. Shit. It had to be a Spitfire. There are some things that my Focke Wolf A4 can do better then a Spit, but darn few. The Spitfire, in Air Warrior, had no real weaknesses to exploit. Although the Focke Wulf FW190A4 had it's charms, had weaknesses that required cleverness to avoid. The Spit had altitude on me, which was a real problem. I could either run, die, or hope the Spitfire pilot was unskilled.  I called to Murph again several more times.  "Murph, Murph, Spitfire".  "Murph we either work together or we're dead".  "Murph, for christ's sake work with me here or we're both dead."  Nothing.  Bastard.

My window to run away was closing fast.  Grinding my teeth I kicked right rudder and turned underneath the Spit's probable dive.  I couldn't just leave my buddy to die.

Nose down and gaining speed I watched the Spit approaching from above.  I'd have one chance and one chance only.  If the Spit was relatively inexperienced, I could either drop out of sight under his belly and pull up, pure vertical and get a shot, or, me going nose down and fast would cause him to underestimate my energy and I could sucker him, because I'd be moving probably 100kts faster then he'd have estimated. Those were my only 2 survivable scenarios. Both depended on him being duped. I made one last desperate call, "Murph, Murph, run for it man, run."

Watching his descent like a hawk, predicting his exact path, I chose my moment and pulled up hard.  I was risking all to save my friend.  The Spit saw my maneuver and went nose down to meet me.  I was purely hosed. If I now dropped my nose prematurely, I'd be dead. All I could hope for was that he'd dive past me. A heartbeat later I was nose high and slow.  That's when the Spitfire made one of those impossible efficient turns and BLAM I was one Ex-Focke Wolf pilot.

Christ I was pissed off!  If that SOB Murph had made the least effort to coordinate we'd a had a chance.  But he hadn't tried for shit. I'd risked all to save his sorry ass and now I was dead as a mackerel. This death was going the screw my place in the monthly pilot ratings. Shit!

I jumped up, and whirled around to the window. I grabbed the window sash, flung the window up, and yelled "Goddamnit Murph!"

I was vaguely aware that somethign big moved out from underneath me. I looked down and a big white box plummeting three stories and tried to process what I was seeing. Then the window air conditioner hit the ground with a crash.

Locked in my posture of abject stupid puzzlement, I noticed Murph's window come up, 6' away.  Out poked the small blond innocent face of Murph's son, visiting for the weekend. He looked down, surveyed the wreckage 3 stories down with confusion, and then looked back up at me.

He said, "hey, in this Air Warrior game, how do you talk back to someone?"

Sigh.