Natalie. War Woman

The Royal Navy ship filled Natalie's gun sight. She fired her 20mm cannons and pulled up, dropping her bombs. With a sickening jolt they fell free and Nat lowered her nose, weaving her jet, flying away from the large ship. Tracer fire and a single missile raced past her. A faint boom indicated her bombs had gone off. Did she sink the enemy ship?

 

It was fly for her life. Sea Harriers were inbound. Natalie cursed her government for starting this evil war, for putting her in harms way and for killing her friends. It’s partly my fault, her mind screamed. You wanted to fly, not to fight and kill or be killed. Silly girl! Suddenly a warning was shouted over the radio. More voices and then silence. A Sea Harrier had shot down an A-4. Who was hit?

 

Nat just about made it to the Hercules tanker. She shook with fear. When she landed, her flight suit was drenched in sweat. Two jets were missing. Natalie had damaged a destroyer and killed British personnel. She was physically sick. Her Skyhawk had eight small bullet holes in it and this was only her first mission. The Medical Officer gave her the okay and she attended debriefing.

 

The next few days were critical. British ships had to be sunk and people killed to defeat the English. It was obvious to all; this would be a bitter fight. Air power had to defeat sea power. Nat flew another mission with mixed results, learning to temper her fear and use her skills and new experience. She saw her cannon fire rake a destroyer but her bombs missed, exploding either side of the ship.

 

Her third mission was her last over the Malvinas. On the hills above the bay, enemy guns and missiles were getting more lethal every day. Never mind the ships’ weapons and marauding Sea Harriers. Losses were several planes each day. Nat’s time was finally up. She hit a Royal Navy destroyer, blowing a big hole in it with her thousand pound bomb. There were many killed. Natalie never saw the wounded English gunner firing a 20mm cannon when she sped ten metres overhead.

 

Exploding shells slammed into her A-4 and Natalie almost lost control. Desperately she pulled up, avoiding slamming into the black cold water. A 20mm shell blew her lower left leg off. By a miracle she never passed out, the pain was something else. Blood filled the cockpit. Right there, she wanted to die. No more pain. Not physical or mental over her Disappeared friends. One simple shove of the controls and the sea would claim her...