A certain plane pony walked along the airport, still unsure where to go, she was rather new to this airbase, and, actually, she was actually quite new to military service. Her new camouflage coat painting making her barely indistinguishable from the rest of aircraft in there, or it would’ve been, if most of them weren’t single engine aircraft. She was actually standing out like a sore thumb since she was one of the few two engine aircraft.

She strode carefully, avoiding the tiny ponies that filled the infantry ranks, cutely called “micros” by the other plane ponies, tank ponies or anything big at all, and also trying to not tumble an oil barrel or a box of ammunition like she accidentally did last time.

“Um… where’s… uh… ground attack aircraft’s hangars?” she asked to one of the little soldiers in front of her hooves, kneeling a little to not scare him, said soldier turning around from their duties and facing her, having to back up a bit and crane his neck to look her emerald green eyes. “Uh… darn I knew it… oh, over there” he said, pointing towards the approximate location of the hangars “They’re the really big ones” he added, to ease recognition.

“Oh… I think I see them, thank you!” the plane pony said happily, smiling warmly at the tiny, the latter asking him “Are you new in here?”

“Oh, actually, yes, I’m new on… everything” she said, giggling a little “I… this is kinda… like my first time in war?” she said, still unsure how to say it, but the micro understood “Oh, hah, you’re lucky, you came when the Luftwaffe isn’t a major threat” he said, then he added “But a girl like you shouldn’t worry, you can outrun them all!”, pointing out that the macro pony was a De Havilland Mosquito B Mk.XV

“Oh, um, thanks” the plane pony said, blushing a little. “Could… you come wit-“ she was about to say something, but suddenly her sentence was torn apart by the screeching noise of an air raid siren, at first she thought it was some kind of training, but then another sound woke her up for real and sent a shiver down her wooden body…

…An explosion…

She quickly turned around, and saw a smaller hangar, fiery flames spreading from the inside towards the outside, even then, her mind didn’t register it as something severe, unless a certain blur made her look at the sky in the general direction of the burning hangar.

Those were aircraft…

Hostile aircraft…

Before she could even react, a Focke-Wulf FW-190 flew past her, barely inches apart, and strafed down a tanker truck, the vehicle exploding in an orange-ish black conflagration, parts of it being expelled away, the SC-500 bomb that the aircraft dropped leaving almost no kind of sign there was a truck there.

She turned around to the second explosion when a third one made her realize at last that they were being attacked, this one coming from the ground attack hangar’s, which collapsed in flame and black smoke that raised over the clouds as a sign of devastation.

The Mosquito could only see in terrified shock at the scene developing around her, she was in the middle of the airbase, and suddenly the sky was completely filled with Jerry aircraft flying with impunity, strafing plane ponies and equipment that was on the ground and bombarding structures and anti-aircraft emplacements, an explosion, shortly followed by the maimed gun barrel of a Bofors 40mm being tossed around reminding her of the power of simple 50 kg bombs. Soldiers scrambling to anti-aircraft guns as the continuous ‘Pompompompom’ of Oerlikons and Bofors, and the occasional big boom of the QF 3.7 inch tried to defy the pneumatic hammer of the 30mm Mk-108 and the smaller but still deadly 20mm MG-151/20

She was too fearful to even move, paralyzed, actually, she had never expected this to happen considering the Luftwaffe’s weakened state, but now here she was, being proven wrong with every tracer that left the fighter’s machineguns and autocannons, and the explosions raging around her. Her thoughts speeded quickly, trying to make sense of what she could do… she couldn’t fly, or the fighters would take her down almost instantly, an aircraft it’s most vulnerable during take-off and landing… she couldn’t hide, they were attacking exactly the hangars where she could atleast cover.

Soon, a thought made her whole body freeze, as a cold shiver went over her… she’s a bomber Mosquito… a supposedly unreachable and too fast aircraft… like a sitting duck… she was basically not a target of opportunity, but a prime target for anyone who wanted to claim the dreaded Mosquito in their killmarks count…

She stood there, fearful, her whole body shaking heavily, the right hoof raised in what was supposed to be a ‘Run away’ tactic but ending up there hanging, waiting for output. Her engines still, not producing any kind of power. She could see how some aircraft stood up against the enemies, a Hawker Tempest was in the air, and she could barely see a P-47 with a Bf-109 on their tail, but the situation’s was not to the allies’ favor.

Suddenly, she felt a little sting at her hoof that was still on the ground, she looked down without even moving her head and saw the soldier from earlier, pounding her hoof with both hindhooves “Run! Run like hell!” the little guy said, and that seemed to be enough to wake her from her trance, suddenly she moved, barely avoiding to step on that same soldier, and started running wildly, without any direction in mind, she just wanted to avoid all, at all costs, she couldn’t take cover like a regular soldier, but she could atleast make it harder for the enemy fighter’s to zero their sights at her.

She kept on running with all her strength her wooden body gave her, leaving visible and deep hoofprints on the snow as her hooves fell down every time, trying her best to not stop or trip on something and end up being strafed, she felt how she stepped on a few boxes and barrels, but she didn’t care, she just kept running, though soon, she saw something that made her outright terrified: A Fw-190D-9, who had finally seen her, was going right for the wild Mosquito, she tried to zig-zag and be as random as possible, the enemy having to slow down and correct their aim. Tracers missing harmlessly to the wooden plane pony’s left and right.

The Mosquito did this for a while as the Lang Nase flew past, made a chandelle and went for a second pass to get the slippery prey, but this time the enemy aircraft went even lower, with such impunity that almost mocked everything else, and carefully aimed at the camouflaged twin engine bomber. The latter plone trying her best to avoid the fighter, but while trying to avoid the enemy gun’s wrath, she tripped on a bomb cart that was stationed nearby, and fell down, face first.

…The Mosquito could only look at the long-nosed plane pony in resignation as she knew she was about to die… she was about to be destroyed, she just put her hooves in front of her head and made herself a ball to give the fighter a smaller target, crying some little tears of fear, but it was a vain move… The bandit slowed down even more, wanting to successfully aim… and when he was about to fire…

He went upwards involuntarily…

The metal single engine fighter plone tried his damnedest to correct his aim from that sudden movement, but he realized late that a British Bofors had aimed on him and was pounding his slow and low figure with accurate 40mm shells. Not having time to stay and do what he was supposed to (Take out the enemy aircraft), he put his engine to the max and speeded his way out of there, the anti-aircraft gun losing accuracy as the distance increased, soon, the Focke-Wulf plane pony was gone, with a small fire on their vertical stabilizers…

The Mosquito raised her head, to see that the air raid was almost over, as quick as it came it left, the anti-air defenses overpowering the enemy formation, which retreated to avoid losing more aircraft, some lone bandits that did not leave and were followed closely by P-51s and Spitfires. She looked to the side, towards the place where she recognized the sound of the gun coming, and saw the same soldier from earlier, sitting on the gunner’s seat, some unknown soldiers fulfilling the rest of the positions…

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Operation Bodenplatte (Unternehmen Bodenplatte) [Translation: Baseplate] was the last large-scale strategic offensive operation of the German Luftwaffe. It was launched on 1 January 1945, and its goal was to cripple Allied air forces by attacking airfields and gain air superiority for the Battle of the Bulge. The offensive caused heavy destruction and some 400 aircraft destroyed, but at the cost of 336 of 850 German aircraft, weakening the Luftwaffe past any hope of rebuilding, while the losses of the Allied Air Forces were replaced within a week.

Wanted to draw this exactly this day, just for the fact that it was a battle on new year’s day, and also because I wanted to draw something for… well… _~Halloween~ new year’s day. It’s kinda more something to “Know myself how I’m going with drawing” instead of celebrating the end of the year, oh, and also because a friend dared me to draw something more ‘war’ related with plones. And no, I don’t support any ideology; I just did a drawing of a historical battle. _{~And actually, looked around for aircraft painting and equipment in the real Bodenplatte, I’m such a nerd >.>}~

%^{I swear that the scanner reduces the colours or something, I try my best to make the colours look neat but they always look dull >•>}%