13329: Hornet's "prank bombings" were bad enough but will Belle please stop making runs over Germany. Admiral Hartman is going to have a heart attack at this rate.
13329a: "8 rounds and they all land within feet of each other, IN MY OFFICE. And she dropped them from 20,000 feet. WTF?!"
13329b: "They're just paint rounds. Sheesh."~ Belle

Contrary to popular belief not every day in a shipgirl admiral's life was punctuated by insanity. The girls could be trying at times but they could find other means to entertain themselves that weren't driving him to insanity. A look outside his window confirmed the normalcy. Repulse was leading a parade to the mess. Hood was with Campbeltown and the destroyer was laughing at something the battlecruiser said. Looking over them, Holloway saw Belle taking to the sky, loaded down with ordinance. Always nice to see his girls practicing their skills. Wait what? Holloway looked again as the B17 clawed to altitude, waggling her wings as she overflew the base. Belle wasn't supposed to be training today. So where was she going?

Meanwhile in Germany, Admiral Hartman was giving Tirpitz the Jutland of all dressing downs. "No less than six reports of indecent conduct. Twelve incidents of related shipgirl antics and that's just the first night!" He was shouting.

Tirpitz, for her part, just stood there stoically. So what if she'd wanted the girls to go to a rock concert. It'd been great fun. On her bridge her Admiral got her attention. "Oioioioioioi!"

"Enemy contact? Where."

"Oioioioi."

"A bomber? Is it Abyssal."

"Oi."

"American, wha-"

Tirpitz's wondering was cut off as part of the roof caved in and 8, 500 lbs bombs landed inside the office. Clearly they were practice rounds as instead of exploding, they just splattered paint everywhere.

Admiral Hartman, having ducked behind his desk, now stood up and surveyed the scene. His eyes narrowed at Tirpitz. "Get me on the phone with Admiral Holloway." He growled.

"SHE PUT 6 BOMBS THROUGH MY ROOF FROM 20,000 FEET. HOW?! AND NOW I HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS!"

Admiral Holloway glared at the other occupant in the room as Admiral Hartman shouted via speakerphone. "Anything you'd like to say, Belle?"

The B17 winced at Hartman's ranting. "They were just paint rounds, sheesh."

"You flew straight into the heart of Germany escorted."

"I had my IFF set to a friendly frequency."

"You left the base without authorization."

"I filed a flight plan."

"You what?" Holloway asked.

"I filed a flight plan with BEA. They had my flight info for a good 3 days in advance."

"3 days in... you know what fine! Just don't do this again. I think Admiral Hartman's going to have a heart attack next time." Holloway sighed.

"Yes Admiral!" Belle said, totally chipper.

He thought he'd solved the problem.

A week later, Holloway's phone rang. Belle had taken off a few hours ago to and I quote "have some fun down south". The Caller ID said Admiral Columbo.

"Admiral Holloway." He said without thinking.

"Admiral!" It was Roma. "You need to get your B17s under control. They flew in formation over the base and dropped paint bombs everywhere. The place looks like a Jason Polluck painting."

"Where is Columbo?" Holloway asked, almost dreading the answer.

"He uh, snapped. 8 paint bombs went through his roof and uh it set him off. We're trying to corral him right now."

Holloway had no good response for that other than to bury his head in his hands.