[ WP ] `` Tally-ho , right 3 O'clock , i 'm in ! ''

Integrated units are so annoying. 
 
 Did you know that British pilots incessantly say `` tally-ho''? It's fucking stupid. It was my bad luck to be part of a military experiment - an integrated British and Canadian fighter wing that skirted the English Channel flying a CAP ( combat air patrol ) against stray Luftwaffe interceptors. I did n't sign up for this. Sure, I want to fight for King and Country but each of his in-country subjects seem to be *wankorus major*, in the Latin. 
 
 Could n't they just talk like normal people? It's fucking grating. 
 
 Last night, around midnight, we were flying at the edge of the North Sea when we were radio'd by the radar station in Dover - six bogies, likely Messerschmidts, were bearing down on myself and my two wingmen. Our shaky Spitfires were a little under-maintained after what seemed like a lifetime of continuous operations since early 1940 and Lieutenant Montgomery had neglected to sleep properly the night before, preferring to write letters to his *petite cherie* in Birmingham. How pathetic; she was probably getting some from a sly young officer on leave as he penned them. I get on the radio. 
 
 `` This is Easy 7-6 to Dover Radar Station. Copy radar contacts bearing 3-3-0 altitude one thousand metres. Guide Easy 8-3 to us promptly - we'll need the backup.'' 
 
 `` Copy Easy 7-6 the cavalry is on the way.'' 
 
 I direct my wingmen into a looser formation as we gain visual contact to our right. Perhaps sleep-drunk, Montgomery pisses me off right away. 
 
 `` Tally-ho, right 3 o'clock, I'm in!'' he shouts as he works his plane into a clockwise roll to effectively bear down on the four ME-109s. Could n't he have waited? 
 
 `` Alright Jones, let's go save his ass.'' 
 
 `` Sure thing Captain.'' 
 
 2nd Lieutenant Jones was the only Brit that I liked in the squadron. He was n't some hothead Cambridge boy like Montgomery. 
 
 We pedaled left to gain speed on our subsequent clockwise roll to shoot down in behind them, but as my fighter reached full inversion an explosion made me nearly piss myself. A sigh of relief, followed by a massive surge of adrenaline, once I glimpsed a tiny Spitfire zoom out of the German formation and we lined up for a strafing run. We were at the edge of our guns' range when my heart sank in horror - there were only three Germans in the formation, and certainly only one had been splashed by Montgomery. I looked up just in time to see the remaining pair bear straight down on us from on high. 
 
 The last things that I saw were iron crosses and fire.
