Just wanted to say to the Clown's who were present, yesterday, during my ignominious demonstration of not how to bring a Pony home, that I really had a blast. For an ol' geezer, that's a pretty cool thing. Briefly: We were flying over Sardinia, I think '43, or so... I felt giddy so, instead of a mudmover or a piece of crap, I picked the P-51A. Took off, ambled and staggered about the air until Fresco picked up on me and offered to join up. I agreed...and quickly finagled it, that he became the flight leader. Soon we were off chasing, what I mistakingly described as a 109, that turned about to be an Mc.205 (...expertly driven by BD, if I recall correctly). It was great. Eventually Fresco won (cheers BD!) and then I saw an He.111 off over on a mountain ridge...it turned out to be Skylla. Nevertheless I went off chasing towards the Heinkel, crossing over a blue position, and my engine was completely stopped...in an instant...by FLAK. I was just getting altitude up to the high ridge...thus did have some altitude, but the immediate terrain offered a maze of valleys, that were not very deep, where I was. I followed them around, of course, loosing altitude (no motor)...Fresco advising me on navigation toward our lines...I was in Indian Country... Belly flopped the girl, in relatively good condition, prop and some skinning on the belly...but hopped out...right at the take off point for an Allied armored assault up to the pass that I had just flown over. In real time, and here, Gentlemen, is where my Sunday became quite cool...again I say, "In Real Time"...I hopped out of my Pony, right alongside a road being used by Cruiser Tanks...heading up to the pass. Nebelwerfers, of all things, were screaming in from out over the pass. They didn't do much damage, but they were real loud. I described this all to the Clowns as they were flying. In real time...just watching the tanks roll by, after I'd ditched...not knowing how, the hell, I was gonna get back to base...one of the tankers might have said to me, that trucks would be following...but Shermans came instead, and they passed the pass and crossed over. I was thinking, to myself..."Shit, if I have to spend the night here, I can go over to that wrecked Cruiser and get some shelter. The idea was not really attractive. Nevertheless, Clowns, and anyone yet interested, we do have quite a good time on the SAS Dogfight Server on Sunday mornings. Cheers to all.