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T-shirt SOPWITH F-1 CAMEL beige

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T-shirt SOPWITH F-1 CAMEL beige
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T-shirt SOPWITH F-1 CAMEL beige

Sopwith F-1 Camel
Unisex T-shirt with short sleeves. 100% cotton, fabric 200 g / m2, knit single jersey.

Sopwith Camel
Camel fighting in England

I remember the Sopwith Camel, as one remembers for her first car. Even though I have experienced very dramatic moments in it that have marked many years of my next life.  

The year 1917 caught me in the ranks of the British Royal Air Force. We all wanted to fight, destroy the enemy, and like every young man we felt immortal. No, we were not crazy, that was the time. Have we ever been afraid? Yes, sometimes he touched us and broke ice joints into our hot hearts. It was when we watched our friends, whom we had drunk with thick tea we had drunk from the battered tin mugs in the morning, were rushing down in the burning ruins of their machines. But then we were tempted to avenge our friends, and we fought back into the fighters and were looking forward to the gunshots on the back of the aircraft barking and hitting their targets. And precisely because of Vickers machine guns, lashed at the back of the fuselage in front of the cockpit, the Sopwith Camel, the Camel, got its name. Conclusions of machine guns covered a "hump", because of which you could not mistake this plane with any other. The first Sopwith Camel aircraft were allocated to the operational units in May 1917, and in July they had already taken part in the first fights. And I was sitting in one of these biplane. I was proud to put my life behind the man in the trenches. Support for ground troops - that was our task.  

And so, in one of the June 1917 supper in 1917, I climbed into one of the three "Camels" patrol planes to the horizon. The flight took place without difficulty, we did not find any enemy planes with large black crosses on the wings and the tail. In the glow of the Reds we were returning to our airport, and suddenly there was a dark detonation of the anti-aircraft batteries at the far end. Before I could figure out what was going on, there was a gunfire from above, and in the wings and cloak of my "Camel" it was holed. The German Fokker had slipped from a height like a hawk who attacked his prey and chose me. Then the fire came back again, and I felt the aching pain in my shoulder. The plane swung and I knew I was fighting for survival. The machine guns of the other two "camels" barked, and both Sopwith Camel machines blew the bend in a desperate attempt to hit the enemy, escape his missiles, and save my life. At that moment, I did not see much about the fight. I did not see Fokker escaping from the reach of our weapons and disappearing against the sky. Intuitively, I tried to land rather than deliberately. I still see how the green area of ​​the airport is approaching too fast. Then the shock came, the pain fired like a white flame, and she blinded me. I lost consciousness.  

I returned to the hospital bed of a military hospital where I spent two months. Upon returning to my airplane, the cabin of the aircraft was forbidden. The arm did not serve as long as I needed to drive the machine. And so I joined the team of airport mechanics and hangars. At the locker door, I hung my airsuit with a shield on my shoulder to keep reminding me that I was not complaining about fate, but that I must be grateful.

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