It's 1952. I spawn in my sabre, and to alarms going off on the airfield. "Scramble, Scramble, Scramble!" I look up. I see a fleet of friendly bombers being attacked by Chinese MiG-15's. I quickly turn on ground power and start my plane as quickly as possible. I try to taxi to the runway and almost overturn and break my wing, but luckily I had just saved it. I take off and climb to our friendly bombers when I see two gleaming objects about a mile out flying down towards me from my 1'clock. "Is that friendly?" But it's to late. All I see is a metric ♥♥♥♥ton of tracers flying towards me. My right wing is torn off, and my engine is on fire. I try to save my plane but it's to late. I spurt out "Dirty commies" before ejecting, and seeing a Mig fly right past my ejection seat.


10/10 would fly in MiG Alley again


"A stranger, fights for his rights, and becomes a hero.
The hero dies, and becomes a legend.
The legend dies, and becomes a myth.
The myth dies, and is lost to history.
The history dies, and becomes lost to time.
The time dies, and becomes lost to existence."