"588"


                                            "588"

                                            >War came to Equestria.

                                            >tfw combined force of Griffons and Diamond Dogs

                                            >Diamond. Dogs.

                                            >are you seein' this shit cam.jpg

                                            >The Maretriarchy quickly marched off to war, army made of mares

                                            >ofc

                                            >Stallions barred from active service.

                                            >Wonderbolts grounded.

                                            >Support roles only

                                            >Be human male anon

                                            >very displeased

                                            >bored out of mind, and now there's a war?

                                            >can't even go body a fool

                                            >too dangerous the princesses say.

                                            >even fucking FLUTTERSHY went off to war.

                                            "This is bullshit!"

                                            >It's poker night with "The Boys™"

                                            >Spike, Soarin', Shining Armor, another Stallion with S in their name

                                            >The usual suspects.

                                            >"Come on, you know they mean well."

                                            "Shut up Shining Armor you're so far beyond pussy whipped that you're literally a wind up toy soldier, in and out of bed."

                                            >snap.png

                                            >everyone draws on their ciders as Shiny gapes and tries to make a comeback

                                            >gets stopped by that one faggot pegasus that tried to flirt with Twiggles and got shot down.

                                            >"Captain, he's got a point, the guard is just eye candy. Literally."

                                            >Whelp, there he goes, moping again.

                                            >Gone in a Flash he is, whining into his cider.

                                            >everyone else ignores him as we get back to the game.

                                            "Seriously, everyone else goes out to fucking war. WAR, and we're left here on the side lines?! I'm a Human! We literally are -built- for war!"

                                            >"I thought you weren't a robot dude."

                                            "Shuttup Spike."

                                            >"Anon's got a point. What's the deal with being a trained combat flyer if I can't even do denial of airspace or, I don't know, combat flights at all?"

                                            >Surprise, Soarin' does have a spine.

                                            >Who the buck knows where it was but there it is.

                                            >The game continues, just trying to pass time, but then.

                                            >Lightbulb.

                                            "... What if we could do -safe- flights?"

                                            >The room stops, looking you right in the eyes.

                                            "Bare with me for a moment. Humanity got a lot of stories, and war is a major part of most of 'em."

                                            >you pull on your cider

                                            "Let me tell you the legend of the 588th Bomber Regiment..."

                                            ----------------

                                            >your idea quickly takes traction across the group

                                            >someone (Spike) grabs a quill and scroll and whips up a note.

                                            >somepony ran out on the game and took wing.

                                            >inwardly you're already crowing in victory.

                                            "There's absolutely no way they'll deny this!"

                                            ----------------

                                            >"We're absolutely denying you this suicidal plan."

                                            >princesssunbuttsaywhat

                                            "I'm sorry, I got something stupid in my fucking ear, did you say 'no'?"

                                            >"YES Anon, I'm saying no!"

                                            >You sigh, and look over your shoulder at the small crowd of stallions gathered near you.

                                            >Probably the largest gathering of house husbands, store clerks, and as that Flasher pony or whatever his name put it, Eye Candy, that's been in the Solar Court in all of it's years.

                                            >a low growl slips your throat.

                                            "Look, with all due respect, that is, none."

                                            >"Ouch."

                                            "I'm going one way or another. The stallions behind me just want to help their mares in a way that isn't being another pin-up colt in their dirty magazines."

                                            >"You tell her boyfriend!"

                                            >... Deja Vu.

                                            "Give them a chance, they'll surprise you and I guarantee the idea is good. I have history to back it up."

                                            >Celestia the all mighty fat flanked leans forwards in her throne

                                            >She's trying to be intimidating but she is not really a goose.

                                            >Nor is she Canadian.

                                            >"And this was performed by the males on your world anon? If they're much like you I'm utterly uninspired."

                                            >Ouch

                                            >Muh feelings.

                                            "I'll have you know it was the -women- who did this, and I can bet you that we'll do it even better by having a simple advantage that they didn't."

                                            >Celestia's eyes narrow to slits.

                                            >"And what would that be?"

                                            "Superior craftsponies and better payloads."

                                            ---------------------

                                            >The warfront, or at least, as close as the mares are letting us get.

                                            >The Diamond Dog/Griffon forces are advancing from Germarey.

                                            >The irony is strong with this one.

                                            "Gentlecolts."

                                            >You are currently dressed in a stripped down version of an Equestrian Officer's uniform.

                                            >Most of it doesn't fit anyway.

                                            >Red is also a shitty color to do this in.

                                            "Tonight we mark history."

                                            >A hushed, if bloodthirsty, cry comes across the herd in front of you.

                                            "Tonight you keep your mare safe and bring them home, back into your arms where they belong."

                                            >Another cheer, still hushed.

                                            >Away from the warfront the mares keep us, but still, better safe than sorry with a plan like this.

                                            "Your daughters will return with victory in hoof as you look on, proud homekeepers who broke the back of a marching war machine."

                                            >The crowd silences, eyes locked to you as you hold out a fist.

                                            "Tonight, the Night Witches fly again, our broomsticks and hexes primed and ready."

                                            >The wooden aircraft frames were all pegasus powered, making them even quieter than they would be if they had been propped like the original 588's.

                                            "Onwards, brothers, into history!"

                                            >Earth Pony and Unicorn Ordinance, carrying large tubes full of a white phosphorus-like material, load into the wooden frames, some more conventional explosives on hoof as well.

                                            >Of course you're not gonna miss out on this shit.

                                            >You have hands, you're gonna be dumping as much of this shit out onto the dogs and the griffs as you can.

                                            >Hell would be unleashed that night.

                                            ---------------------------

                                            The War for Germarey and the Griffon advance was completely broken over a one week period by a small reserve flight squadron composed entirely of stallions and lead by Anon, the only human in Equestria. Their daring air-raids were conducted entirely at night, waking up both sides of the war effort, caught off guards by the sudden explosions and for the Griffon forces, hell fire and a sight-stealing mist met them on all sides.


                                            The Night Witches, normal homestallions and young colts normally hidden in Equestria's borders, said that they rode to war on the back of their broomsticks to cast hexes upon their foes so their mares could come home safe.


                                            The war ended three days after their final bombing run, after they had run out of ordinance.


                                            EDIT:

                                            HISTORY LESSONS WITH ALY: Scene is Spring of 1943, Georgy Zhukov has suffered his worst defeat of the war, the soviets have failed to relieve Stalingrad with Operation Winter Storm, and the Red Army just lost an estimated 90,000 troops in Kharkov.  The situation for the Soviets seems desperate.


                                            But in the skies, Major Yevdokia Bershanskaya leads the women of the 588th Night Bomber Regimen. Formed by Colonel Marina Raskova, this was one of three air regiments that was to employ females, and the only regiment to be all women, the first in the world to allow women such a dominant role in air warfare.  Though initially ridiculed, handed almost no equipment and only old uniforms and told to make do, they became one of the most effective air units of history.


                                            The 588th flew 30,000 missions over four years, dropping a total of 23,000 tons of ordinance on invading German armies. The girls--some were only 17, the oldest 26--flew almost exclusively at night because their planes were nothing but plywood and canvas.  A single tracer round could ignite the frame. Flying these practice fighters, little more than crop-dusters, was extremely dangerous.  After one mission Nadia Popova and her pilot Katya counted 42 bullet holes in her plane, not including those in her map and helmet.


                                            Because of the weight of the bombs they carried and the low altitudes at which they flew, they carried no parachutes. They had no radar to navigate their paths through the night skies -- only maps and compasses.  But flying low and slow and quiet had its advantages.  Their light frames and slow speeds made the planes highly maneuverable compared to the Nazis, and their relative silence allowed the 588th a sort of stealth--they would idle their engines as they neared their targets, and glide their way to their bomb release points.


                                            As a result of the soft "whoosh" that was the only sound preceding the bombs, the Nazis began calling the female fighter pilots Nachthexen: "night witches." Hated and feared for their ability to drop bombs with little more than the sound of a "witch's broom" to announce their presence, the Nazi's offered the reward of an Iron Cross to any pilot who could down a "Witch"  The 588th wore the title "Night Witches" as a badge of honor.