Chapter 11
"Alright men," The commander yelled over the group of pilots. "Today is July 12th, 1943, 7:00oc. Your mission for today in to take over the Pachino airfield and destroy the Nazi's ground units. You'll be leaving in a half hour, be ready."
Matthew got up from where he was sitting and poked at Jack, who had fallen asleep. "What?" He grumbled gruffly.
"We're leaving." Canada said. Jack sighed and stood up. "Did you hear any of that?"
Jack nodded and yawned. "Yep."
-❄️"Being a Canadian is confusing. You write like a Brit, speak like an American and throw enough French in there to freak everyone out."❄️-
Matthew carefully watched his altitude as he dived down towards the axis ground units on the way to the air field. He shot at a few hitting their gas tanks and exploding before pulling back up to rejoin his squadron. The Canadian was in charge of the large group of pilots flying to take over the airfield.
Canada was just upgraded to a new plane, a Hawker Hurricane MK IIB. He didn't like flying it too much. It wasn't as manoeuvrable as his Spitfire, but it was equipped with rockets to take out heavier ground targets.
Jack slowed his airspeed readying to land at the airfield. The other planes split off to take out the enemy artillery. Matthew kept beside Jack as he descended to land. His job was to shoot any planes that might go after Jack.
Matthew could see the Nazi planes starting to move on the ground. A few getting off the ground before Canada passed over head hitting the planes still parked on the ground with rockets and the fuel tanks on the other side of the run way. They exploded fire consuming the tents pitched around them. Jack had to pull out of his landing to avoid the flames.
Canada pulled his plane back around to face the oncoming axis planes. The other allied planes had returned from the ground strike and were locked in a dog fight with the enemy. Two enemy planes broke off and started to fly directly at him.
The two planes shot at him and Matthew fired back pulling out of their collision course at the last second. The Canadian pulled the sharpest turn he could with the lumbering plane. He could see the Germans already turned and flying back to him as he turned. The pair of enemy planes started to fire. Their bullets hit his wings and tail making controlling the plane harder. His tail was completely shredded.
Matthew couldn't control the pitch of his plane without his tail. His nose was pointed down and he was unable to pull up. The Nazis continued to shoot even know he wasn't going to stay in the air for much longer. Canada yelped as he felt pain shoot up his leg. He reached a shaking hand down and felt warm sticky liquid flow over his fingers.
Canada cursed as he continued to lose altitude. His belly was scraping the treetops. One of the trees took his wing tip off sending his plane off balance and smashed into the ground. Matthew yelled in pain as his head smashed against the back of his seat and jostled his leg. The plane finally skidded to a stop.
The Canadian groaned and opened the cockpit. He was lucky the plane hadn't caught on fire or exploded on the way down. He didn't want to move. His leg felt like it was on fire. He knew he was losing a lot of blood. Matthew finally motivated himself to move. Each tiny movement sent pain shooting up his spine. To Canada it seemed like it took him hours to climb out of the wrecked plane. He carefully lowered himself to the ground making sure to keep weight off his injured leg.
Canada opened the side of his plane where the first aid kit was kept. He hobbled over to a tree and leaned against it. Matthew sat down slowly and took a deep breath before gently pealing the blood soaked fabric away from his wound. The bullet had made a clean hole through his left leg just below the knee.
Matthew winced as he disinfected the area and sewed the holes closed. He carefully wrapped bandages around his calf and sat back with a sigh. The wound would heal soon enough. Being a nation did have its perks. The Canadian looked up the sky. The planes were still locked in a dogfight. He hoped that the allies were winning.
Canada knew he would have to somehow make it back to the allied lines. He did not want to risk being captured by the Nazis. The Canadian started to form a plan in his head. First he needed to motivate himself to move.
Matthew was comfortable sitting against the tree. The sun was warm, wind was gentle and the scent of the forest was calming. The pain in his leg had dulled to an ache. 'Maybe I'll stay here for a while.' Canada thought closing his eyes.
-❄"A mari usque ad mare. From sea to sea."❄-
AN: Sorry about the accents!
Canada woke to the sound of loud footsteps trudging through the forest. As they got closer his sluggish mind processed what they were saying.
"What are we doing way out here Germany?" A loud Italian asked. Matthew instantly recognized the voice and panicked.
"Ve are here to find the pilot and in-prison him." Said the German.
"And why do we have to come?" Another Italian asked annoyed. "Couldn't you send your lap dogs out to collect him? Stupid potato bastard."
Canada struggled to get to his feet. He had completely forgotten about his bullet wound until he put weight on it and had to hold in a scream. The Canadian gritted his teeth as he moved through the forest away from the axis.
"Did you two here zhat?" Germany asked voice echoing through the trees.
"Hear-a what?" The Italies asked in unison.
