june 17, 1941, Hertha’s eyes darted between her mirror, her already abysmal fuel meter…and after a couple of rounds from an enemy spitfire? The propellers of her BF-109 ceasing to spin…this raid into Britain had failed, hertha had no choice but too crash land her plane into a field of wheat…after a semi-successful crash, hertha emerged from her broken plane and sat on the broken wing, exhausted, mildly injured and defeated, she simply waited for the British to capture her…hertha herself is a 30 year old German lufftwaffa ace with short messy grey hair, red eyes, a very voluptuous curvy thick lean and athletic body and a generic grey aviation suit…hertha sighed and placed her hands in her pocket.

“6 victories in the air…that’s pretty good i suppose. Well, this is the end of the journey, gotta prepare to life as a POW…whatever that entails, huh? Guess my boots are still intact, hopefully they won’t take em…”