Flack,shrapnel and fire, everywhere. The pilot said himself that "flying in this Scheiße is impossible with navigation, and even that is gefickt". Typical, the only night we need it it is broken. Allies were falling while the enemy was advancing through thy sky. Our back gunner was already firing into the black abyss, into "an enemy plane, probably a Spitfire Mk-1". He is just wasting ammo, not like there is muck left. Leaning out I saw 3 things, lights,flames and panic. "Ok guys! Prepare to drop the payload in 2 minutes and counting" shouted the navigator. "I doubt we will even last 1 minute" I replied. "I mean come on, why are we still bombing this Ficken Land, we have lost the war!" I babbled. "We should drop our bombs on that island, Irland, is that the name? Apparently it has a small population and has little to non defence, only a costal resistance" I continued. The plane violently shook, jolting everything out of plane that was not strapped down. Ammo was spread all over the base, half of it was rolling down tho the back. "Nein!" I shouted as I got up and tried to salvage the precocious ammo. "Get back in your seat now!" Shouted the pilot with frustration. As I sat down I heard an engine, not ours looking around, there it was, a Spitfire with its eyes on us and us alone. "Scheiße! Fire fire fire!!" The pilot shouted at me. I quickly pulled the trigger sending bullets and their cases flying all over the place. The Spitfire made a weird crashing noise as the glass shattered, then the plane violently pulled down and flew out of sight. "Nice shot!! We thought that beschissen pilot!" I felt a little joy but that was sucked straight out as I saw another ally explode and veer straight into us. Our plane pulled down th try and save ourselves but, nothing could save our plane. With a large bang the payload of the plane hit our tail and detonated sending ours in a uncontrollable spin down tho earth. Hoping for a miracle, like a parachute was hopeless. I was dead, we all were dead. Our country was dead........