This is to cool, and bless ya 9K for bringing the whole thing up.. We throw around LOL's and ha ha's or ja ja's but it really means a smile right.. Not now.. Both XO Wolf and Blacky Wolf have me (for real) laughing out loud.. Does this plane make me look fat.. And Mr serious XO Wolf bust'n on 9k.. I love it.. The best of good humor, and good friends.. Thank you GI 9 K, Skipper and big HB, with out you two this wouldn't have happened..

Oh .. And Blacky.. I gotta be honest here bro, When you get squeezed in the cockpit theres a tad of both "Dunlap" and "Dicky Do" going on.. And everybody knows the Dunlap thing if you don't know the Dicky do just ask..

I did notice Bwolf's plane is unusually fast in a dive... then it hit me. Gravity!

lmao I kno the dunlaped over my belt ha ha ... but this is a pg thread padre my dicky do might make some feel like they never grew up baahhhhhhh ha ha lmao .....to much ????????

hi wolves, dropping by to leave a not for digger and viper.



digger, it is a shame real life is real. but you won't be far away, i hope to see you in the skies. you are someone i have confidence in. thanks for helping me to bring these two squadrons together. without your direct decision none of this would have really been possible. a pat on the back for you my friend

viper, you're a real gone cat, heavy jive composer and pretty ok guy. i trust you will remain your enjoyable self and lead these wolves to dinner.



keep up the great work wolf pack! Awooooooooooooogah!

Pistolfuddyduddy wrote: GI / 9K or uhh oh yeah I forgot you're really Earnest Borgnine in drag.. That was Squeak's great catch and it reminds me of something I've been meaning to bring up.. Where is brother George.. Last I heard from him they were on a family vacation back east.. But it's been quite awhile since he's posted and I'm half concerned.. If any of you guys have an update please let us know..

Now.. Where was I .. Oh yeah That Borgnine in drag guy.. WHAT!! WHAT!! we write to long.. Nonsense, there is no such thing as a Wolf Pack member writing to long. We imagine each key stroke to be a Reds wing or fuseloge.. Most of us have to replace our keyboards every couple weeks due to the trama.. But this gives us super strong fingers for those long games.. As to the weight loss / excercise stuff from XO Wolf.. What can I say we're just a bunch of lean mean wolfs.. With strong fingers.. Proving we can "run on" about anything.. But write "to long" ..never..

Padre - I'm here, but thanks for looking in on me. Sad that skipper has to slow down but uts necessary and understandable. My thanks to you and Viper for picking up the reins. Really enjoy the posts from you, Viper, Blackie, Myrlin, Dire, our GI allies and DF friends. I have a lot going on at work, major project which is going to eat up most of my flying time for the next 6 to 8 weeks, but I'll be poking my nose in as often as I can.

Squeak (aka SantaWolf)

oooOOOOOOOOooooooooWWWWWoooooooOOOOOOOoooo

PADRE, I was introduced to the dicky do club by my grandfather on a fishing boat on Lake Champlain in 1975. The event is burned into my mind.
It was a chilly late September morning, leaves rustling on the trees back on shore, about 6am as I recall. The water was strangely calm for a big body of water, and covered in a dense layer of gray fog. We could hear the turbine engines of the ferry just north of our location, churning the shallow water, as it pulled away from its dock, while carrying cars and their passengers from Vermont to the Canadian shore. As a young lad, at the young, innocent age of twelve, being in a small boat with an outboard motor on a big body of water with "men" , felt like being initiated into manhood. This was it! I was finally out fishing with the guys, and was finally privvy and front row, and excited to get to the fishing, where so many epic stories told by my grandfather had originated.
We had shoved off from a wooden dock after loading the boat with the essentials. The fishing rods were placed in the holders near the front of the 12 foot boat, poised and standing tall, while cutting through the wind and fog, while we floaged atop the cold waters. The 3 coolers were loaded between the seats. One, filled with bait... Night crawlers that I had dug out of my grandmother's rose garden the night before. After all, isn't that what fish eat? My "Opa", German for grandpa, opted to go the easy route, and buy them at the tackle shop back on shore. Only they weren't anything like my run-of-the-mill worms. These things were like something out of a bad dream,and made my prized night crawlers look like spaghetti. They were ominous...up to 8 inches long, blood red, and seemingly covered end to end with spiny tentacles, which seemed to want to latch into my small digits when I finally dared to pick one up at the urging of my Opa. They were the famous blood worms my grandfather had always told about. Another item in the cooler was the "chum", a mixture of corn, chicken parts, and other random, and seemingly inedible morsels. Some of the "bad" crabs became chum after the old man took a hammer to them and threw them back to the Flounder God's.
The second cooler, ahhhh the grub.... Hero sandwiches my mom had made last night from leftover meatloaf and gravy. Peanut butter and jelly, a staple in any young man's diet, each carefully wrapped in waxed paper to keep them fresh. There were Apples, Saltine crackers, 2 cans of Spam, a bag of potato chips, A bunch of red grapes, and some pretzel sticks wrapped in Saran wrap. It seemed we had enough to survive for days.
The final vessel, the largest of them all, was filled with crushed ice, bought at the boat rental place, contained a myriad of liquid refreshments. There was a glass bottle filled with milk for those PB&J's, a collection of glass coca cola bottles that I knew would be ice cold when it was time to pop those caps, and Opa's quenched of choice, something called Miller. I went to school with Ronnie Miller, that's how I remembered the name. I bet there were 50 of those shiny cans in that cooler. My grandfather was a thirsty man. Especially on fishing trips.
My first cast into the chilly darkened water was epic. Twin leaders, four razor sharp hooks, and an equal number of rose garden worms that barely covered those hooks. With an almost mechanical arm, and a twist of his wrist, Opa launched my bait what seemed like a mile, plunking loudly, and disappearing into those mysterious waters. "hold this!" he said " and don't let go until I tell ya" he bellowed, as he popped the top on one of those Miller's, and flung the shiny sharp thing into the water. I was officially a fisherman! I would "kill 'em" today. I would bring the haul home to mom and she would cook them like she did so many times before. Only this time... I would be the one to tell the stories... Yeah!! Before I knew it, he had two more lines in the water, mumbling something under his breath about "those little bastards", and something else about how life was great out here. In recollection of that very moment, I still smile and break into a nostalgic giggle every time. Especially as I relayed those stories to my son, and now... my grandson.
I could go on, but I'm sure you all have your own fish stories. Thanks for letting me reminisce with you.
Oh yeah.... The Dicky doo club. I'm not quite a full fledged member, but on occasion I breach the expansion limits after a hearty Holiday supper and dessert.
Thanks for digging that out of the depths of my cerebellum.

KWH75 wrote: 9 I do have a question for ya bro an be honost does this plane make me look fat lol olmao

Yes. LOL Just kidding bro!

james ...bro ...no ty man for the walk bro man in my head I was right there with ya bro ...great story ......dire lol funny thing is im still usin the Fokker dr1 on german side an as lol as it is the tail end is the shortist and the fatist lmao ......

KWH75 wrote: 9 I do have a question for ya bro an be honost does this plane make me look fat lol olmao

WHICH ONE THE ONE WHICH IS HIT OR THE BIG ONE COVERING THE SCREEN LOL JK WHICH ONE

James, what a great read.. I grew up on the stories from the back page of (I think this is the magazine) outdoor life, there were more outdoor magazines during that era, and the one thing that most had in common was some really good reading on the last page that often as not featured a reflection on a coming of age experiance.. Mind you these were professional authors who knew how to turn a phrase.. In all honesty that story could be published today.. I was there with you on that twelve foot boat.. I could smell the water, and feel the cold metal of the boats oar locks.. Your story took us all back to that moment in time, and I honestly believe you might have found your life's work..if you'd like some good advice I'd Google HOW to submit stories and then do just that.. Jim you have to much talent to waste it.. Please finnish (you're three quarters there) that story and submit it ASAP.. A couple published stories, then an agent, then a book.. The howler and us to recharge your batteries, lol.. General Motors had an add program built around "professional grade" well pard you're professional grade..

Myrlin I agree with Padre--you have a real talent for writing. Happy Weekend!

Dire

I agree plz finish if u don't mind brother I really enloyed ...but padre was hitin the miller with ur granddad while I helped digin worms with ya .... what a lush lmao lol lol jk

You've got me laughing over here in AZ, and your right ya little wipper snapper (doing my best Clint Eastwood) "grrr GET OFF MY YARD" ... Oh wait a minute .. Uhh maybe bring me over a Millers before ya skedaddle .. and bring back my door baby brother ..

That last has me cracking up.. I was just over in GI's thread.. Told them my door was always open.. Then it seemed sorta serious so I thought I'd lighten the mood right... Told them that was because you stole it to make a cocktail table out of.. Now I'm laughing and have this visual of you with a door up on cinder blocks in the middle of your living room.. Oh yeah with a twelve'r of Miller on it..

Related happy if not funny thoughts.. Every Time I see Maydays avatar I get a chuckle out of the big fat daddy dubbie sticki'n out of the left corner of his mouth .. Fly'n high are ya Mayday.. Ha ha .. The wild excess of youth .. I feel the spirit of Clint again.. <hitch up my pants> "Boy.. GET OFF MY YARD" "I've SMOKED YOUR BODY WEIGHT IN TASTY BUD" "BRING MR THOSE MILLERS" ok Clints gone, but Padres still here..

Heading out to get the final points down so I can have a three digit overall score.. "Maybe" today if I can get the playing time!

lol lmao grand torino ha ha lov that one .....I know ur a card playin man so ill see ur ....eastwood voice....get off my yard ... an raise ya...eastwood voice ....u can have ur door back on the grounds u don't paint any flames or put a sissy spoiler on it lmao...end eastwood voice....

MyrlinWolf{WP} wrote: PADRE, I was introduced to the dicky do club by my grandfather on a fishing boat on Lake Champlain in 1975. The event is burned into my mind.
It was a chilly late September morning, leaves rustling on the trees back on shore, about 6am as I recall. The water was strangely calm for a big body of water, and covered in a dense layer of gray fog. We could hear the turbine engines of the ferry just north of our location, churning the shallow water, as it pulled away from its dock, while carrying cars and their passengers from Vermont to the Canadian shore. As a young lad, at the young, innocent age of twelve, being in a small boat with an outboard motor on a big body of water with "men" , felt like being initiated into manhood. This was it! I was finally out fishing with the guys, and was finally privvy and front row, and excited to get to the fishing, where so many epic stories told by my grandfather had originated.
We had shoved off from a wooden dock after loading the boat with the essentials. The fishing rods were placed in the holders near the front of the 12 foot boat, poised and standing tall, while cutting through the wind and fog, while we floaged atop the cold waters. The 3 coolers were loaded between the seats. One, filled with bait... Night crawlers that I had dug out of my grandmother's rose garden the night before. After all, isn't that what fish eat? My "Opa", German for grandpa, opted to go the easy route, and buy them at the tackle shop back on shore. Only they weren't anything like my run-of-the-mill worms. These things were like something out of a bad dream,and made my prized night crawlers look like spaghetti. They were ominous...up to 8 inches long, blood red, and seemingly covered end to end with spiny tentacles, which seemed to want to latch into my small digits when I finally dared to pick one up at the urging of my Opa. They were the famous blood worms my grandfather had always told about. Another item in the cooler was the "chum", a mixture of corn, chicken parts, and other random, and seemingly inedible morsels. Some of the "bad" crabs became chum after the old man took a hammer to them and threw them back to the Flounder God's.
The second cooler, ahhhh the grub.... Hero sandwiches my mom had made last night from leftover meatloaf and gravy. Peanut butter and jelly, a staple in any young man's diet, each carefully wrapped in waxed paper to keep them fresh. There were Apples, Saltine crackers, 2 cans of Spam, a bag of potato chips, A bunch of red grapes, and some pretzel sticks wrapped in Saran wrap. It seemed we had enough to survive for days.
The final vessel, the largest of them all, was filled with crushed ice, bought at the boat rental place, contained a myriad of liquid refreshments. There was a glass bottle filled with milk for those PB&J's, a collection of glass coca cola bottles that I knew would be ice cold when it was time to pop those caps, and Opa's quenched of choice, something called Miller. I went to school with Ronnie Miller, that's how I remembered the name. I bet there were 50 of those shiny cans in that cooler. My grandfather was a thirsty man. Especially on fishing trips.
My first cast into the chilly darkened water was epic. Twin leaders, four razor sharp hooks, and an equal number of rose garden worms that barely covered those hooks. With an almost mechanical arm, and a twist of his wrist, Opa launched my bait what seemed like a mile, plunking loudly, and disappearing into those mysterious waters. "hold this!" he said " and don't let go until I tell ya" he bellowed, as he popped the top on one of those Miller's, and flung the shiny sharp thing into the water. I was officially a fisherman! I would "kill 'em" today. I would bring the haul home to mom and she would cook them like she did so many times before. Only this time... I would be the one to tell the stories... Yeah!! Before I knew it, he had two more lines in the water, mumbling something under his breath about "those little bastards", and something else about how life was great out here. In recollection of that very moment, I still smile and break into a nostalgic giggle every time. Especially as I relayed those stories to my son, and now... my grandson.
I could go on, but I'm sure you all have your own fish stories. Thanks for letting me reminisce with you.
Oh yeah.... The Dicky doo club. I'm not quite a full fledged member, but on occasion I breach the expansion limits after a hearty Holiday supper and dessert.
Thanks for digging that out of the depths of my cerebellum.

Very nice!

I "heard" it as if read by Garrison Keillor.

You guys are way too kind, but thank you so much. That lil ditty just rolled off my fingers on the keyboard like nuthin I ever wrote. It was like my hands had been possessed my some old time writer with a vision in his head. It seems I was the old man, yes, but not the writer,lol. The words just flowed because I was trying to portray that very moment in time. It felt good. I was smiling while I recollected the scene in my head, like I had so many times before.
But, now that I've read it over again, and shook my head at the typos, I found it hard to believe that that portrayal actually came out of my own psychie. Maybe there's something to it? I've always enjoyed writing poetry, but never anything in long form like this one. You guys really made me feel "swell" with your kind comments. Thank you! Maybe I will try to finish it. I mean, there's certainly more of it. So, I might just do that.lol
The Door thing had me howling here on my couch. Thanks! I needed that! I remember when I worked in the Paint store on the highways of Lodi, NJ. There was an Electrical supply place right next door. As with any respectable specialty store, and before the big box stores opened to put those little places out of commission, this place sold wire by the foot to anyone ready, willing, and able to wire that new light at the house at the beckoning of their spouses(just to shut them up)
Well, that wire was delivered to them on spools. You know the ones I'm talking about? The wooden spools? The proverbial coffee table that every single guy needed in his man cave and party central domain.Yep, I had one of those! It was just the right height, sitting there in front of my second hand couch, with the cigarette burn holes in it from many nights of young adult roguery. Ahemm...yeah...
I mean, the thing was a manufacturing miracle, and certainly an architectural blessing. And... best of all.. FREE!! Once on its side, you had a base where you could keep books, speakers(with wires running across the floor to the Amplifier/Receiver/Record Player combo thingie}, Pro Keds, or your stash, so to speak, somewhere behind the rainbow colors of liquor bottles. And, since the Spool was usually covered up with one of your mother's good table cloths, or a round, checkered picnic table cloth(Perfect) it made for the ultimate concealer. The top was spacious, flat(except for the bolt heads that kept it together) and a great place for the TV Guide. No remotes, because they weren't invented yet. The Skin Rags were always proudly displayed for the guys and for obvious reasons, coverted for the female persuasion types.I even found a great use for the center of this weight bearing piece of marvel.They always had a hole in the middle of them so they could be stored on pipes or racks of sorts at the store. I remember mulling over the possibilities when I first brought it to my place, a one room efficiency variety with a head just big enough to get the door open and closed, and a stand up shower with a plain white plastic shower liner with mildew stains on it.Ummm...yeah...
That hole became the resting place of my favorite Baseball Bat, with a well worn glove hanging proudly from the heel. A table cloth made it harder to have that resting place, but if the cloth was large enough, I could push the bat clean to the bottom of the spool, dragging the cloth with it, and preserving my under cover. Voila!! Problem solved! Other genius ideas included a "drop-in" ash tray with a soup can forced into it(If I made soup that week), and it also served as a wire chase when the stereo system was resting atop it, and it was converted to an end table and put in the corner. I think we were all pretty inventive during those years.
I don't know why I'm in nostalgia mode the last few days, but thanks for letting me share the silliness with y'all.Besides, it's all your fault for bring up the Door thing,lol.

Wow.. You need to know this brother, you can flat turn a phrase.. And while I can't, I do know what I'm talking about James.. Am i perhaps prejudice.. Ya think.. Of course I am, but by the same token I do know my literature.. I read Vipers Mickey Spelane at the same point I read Herman Hesse, and all of JD Updike, not just catcher in the Rye.. American literature from Himingway to Faulkner was my read of choice, and the copied below is just another unfinished story.. Nothing but good stuff my friend..

I remember when I worked in the Paint store on the highways of Lodi, NJ. There was an Electrical supply place right next door. As with any respectable specialty store, and before the big box stores opened to put those little places out of commission, this place sold wire by the foot to anyone ready, willing, and able to wire that new light at the house at the beckoning of their spouses(just to shut them up)
Well, that wire was delivered to them on spools. You know the ones I'm talking about? The wooden spools? The proverbial coffee table that every single guy needed in his man cave and party central domain.Yep, I had one of those! It was just the right height, sitting there in front of my second hand couch, with the cigarette burn holes in it from many nights of young adult roguery. Ahemm...yeah...
I mean, the thing was a manufacturing miracle, and certainly an architectural blessing. And... best of all.. FREE!! Once on its side, you had a base where you could keep books, speakers(with wires running across the floor to the Amplifier/Receiver/Record Player combo thingie}, Pro Keds, or your stash, so to speak, somewhere behind the rainbow colors of liquor bottles. And, since the Spool was usually covered up with one of your mother's good table cloths, or a round, checkered picnic table cloth(Perfect) it made for the ultimate concealer. The top was spacious, flat(except for the bolt heads that kept it together) and a great place for the TV Guide. No remotes, because they weren't invented yet. The Skin Rags were always proudly displayed for the guys and for obvious reasons, coverted for the female persuasion types.I even found a great use for the center of this weight bearing piece of marvel.They always had a hole in the middle of them so they could be stored on pipes or racks of sorts at the store. I remember mulling over the possibilities when I first brought it to my place, a one room efficiency variety with a head just big enough to get the door open and closed, and a stand up shower with a plain white plastic shower liner with mildew stains on it.Ummm...yeah...
That hole became the resting place of my favorite Baseball Bat, with a well worn glove hanging proudly from the heel. A table cloth made it harder to have that resting place, but if the cloth was large enough, I could push the bat clean to the bottom of the spool, dragging the cloth with it, and preserving my under cover. Voila!! Problem solved! Other genius ideas included a "drop-in" ash tray with a soup can forced into it(If I made soup that week), and it also served as a wire chase when the stereo system was resting atop it, and it was converted to an end table and put in the corner. I think we were all pretty inventive during those years.


This is the stuff great short stories are made from.. As always prayers for Teresa, Mindy, and James

Lol, Pard... So I'll keep those two aside, and I'll have almost 2 chapters for my submission to readers digest. Is that what you're saying? Ya know, if you keep it up with all the flattery, I may end up bestowing the agent title on you for pushing me to do this, lol

That's EXACTLY what I'm saying, though I doubt the agent title would do you much good.. That being said the "pard" title works just fine, if you remember Clint and Lee Marvin in paint your wagon "pard" is special.. Makes me proud to be yours.. From this time forward you just became pard.. And I answer to it as well..

isn't that one where they tunnel under an swipe all the gold dust from the bar and share the same wife lol

KWH75 wrote: isn't that one where they tunnel under an swipe all the gold dust from the bar and share the same wife lol

Yeah that's.it Clint Eastwood singing.he didn't do that often in a movie.. Good flick

lol hi brother nigh ......yeah he sang an the end of grand torino also lol blees his heart he sounds like chuck Norris or le majors lmao in the show the fall guy lol yall remember

Digger {WP} wrote:

WELCOME TO

Together We Prowl .... United We Howl

Wolf Pack:
(noun) - a group of people or things that operate as a hunting and attacking pack, in particular a group of attacking aircraft.


Wolf Pack is an elite squad of skilled fighter pilots and like a wolf pack, squad members are sociable, loyal, they work together and always show respect. This squad is about playing the game, making friends, and having lots of fun. If you like animals, especially dogs or wolves even better!

WOLF PACK CODE OF CONDUCT

1. Follow orders from the commanding officers.
2. Must wear a Squad-Tag so you are properly identified as a proud Wolf Pack member. Squad-Tag is {WP} after your name. Ex: Digger {WP}
3. Do not team kill.
4. Work together with your teammates to win.
5. Watch your fellow squad member’s backs.
6. No vulgar language.
7. Be polite and respectful to all.
8. No spawn killing or camping, unless you are coming up to bomb or to get a bomber in.
9. Your choice on working together with squad mates in a dogfight game.
10. Always follow basic game rules.
11. If you have a problem with another pilot, moderator, or squadron, you are NOT to argue with them in World or Mission Chat or on a squadron thread (whether theirs or ours),instead take it to the air or bring it to a squad Air Marshall or MORAF to handle.
12. Name changing is NOT allowed in Wolf Pack. As long as you are member of the Pack, you are required to keep the original name you joined Wolf Pack with. If at any time you change your name while a Pack member, you will be terminated from the Pack. No Exceptions. There is a formal squad process for name change requests.
13. Each Pack Member must fly at least once every 2 weeks in order to remain an active member of our squad. If there is no change in your stats, and it is pretty hard to fly with out a death, kill, change in points, etc, then you are subject to replacement.
14. Have Fun!

RECRUITMENT

Joining Wolf Pack is by Invitation Only! However, if you think you have what it takes to be a member of the Pack, can follow the above rules and are a level 8 or better you're welcome to submit a Request to Join. Please submit your Request to Join under the squadrons section within the game. However, any Request to Join the Pack must be accompanied by a Formal Request to Join. The Formal Request will require you to introduce yourself, state who invited you to join or if you are submitting a request without an invitation, state if you have been with any other squads, state if you have used any other names and/or profiles in Dog Fight and provide those names/profiles and most importantly state why you want to join the Wolf Pack. The Formal Request to Join must be posted in The Official Wolf Pack Squad Thread, which is this thread you are currently reading. We will keep an eye out for you to see how you handle yourself. The acceptance/rejection process may happen very quickly or it may take some time. The Pack MORAF/Alpha Wolf will reach out to you and maybe or maybe not grant you acceptance into the Pack. If you are one of the lucky ones to have been selected to the Pack, we will provide you with a list of helpful tips to improve your flying and combat abilities, we will provide you with our Squad Banner with your name on it, and our secret rendezvous point.

SQUADRON PILOTS & RANK

**Squadron MORAFS**

Digger {WP}

^^Squadron Air Marshals^^

Viper10 {WP}

RED_WEREWOLF {WP}

DireWolf {WP}

KWH75 Blackwolf {WP}

2 Dogs {WP}

Squeak Wolf {WP}

^Squadron Group Captains^

funky munky {WP}

mal {WP}

MyrlinWolf {WP}

whitetrashbear {WP}

Capt. GOOSE {WP}

Pistolpadre {WP}

//Squadron Wing Commanders//

American pilot {WP}

Ryujin {WP}

skenny {WP}

Howling Wolf{WP}

seawolf {WP}

huntersteve15 {WP}

mallooud {WP}

/Squadron Lieutenants/

Silver Gold Wolf {WP}

Dubman0201{WP}

Kascie2313 {WP}

Ashken Wolf {WP}

RedWolves {WP}

SilentWolf {WP}

Storm Wolf {WP}

Jackwolf {WP}

Chair87 {WP}

Zu Wolf {WP}

red_baron_2 {WP}

Zanex {WP}

Star Stinger {WP}

Eje {WP}

Skirem wolf {WP}

Kris 01 {WP}

ADVANCEMENT

-All pilots who are invited to join Wolf Pack do so as a Lieutenant, regardless of level/rank in the game. This is a probationary period to make sure you like us and we like you. The Squad MORAF/Alpha Wolf will be keeping his eyes and ears open on all new members. After all, we are a pack of wolves and pack members must show loyalty, dedication and an eagerness to learn and improve our pack/squad. Our survival depends on it. After your probation period, which is determined by the Squadron MORAF/Alpha Wolf, you are either eligible for promotion to the appropriate squad rank based on your level or you will be dismissed from the squad. All Lieutenants are promoted upon reaching level 15 as you have proved your loyalty to the pack.

-Pilots level 15-19 receive the rank of Wing Commander. Wing Commanders are no longer a probie but are now considered regular ranks as they have proved their commitment to the pack.

-Pilots level 20 and over are eligible for promotion to Group Captain. Group Captains serve as junior officers and can recruit new members to the squad.

-Pilots that are level 25 or better and/or show the greatest maturity and leadership are eligible for the rank of Air Marshal. Air Marshals serve as officers to the squad and have the ability to accept/expel members, as well as give promotions. Air Marshals make themselves available to lower ranks for advice and guidance and represent the squadron in squad battles.

DISTINCTION & SKILL

In addition to ranking up, members of the Wolf Pack can achieve special honors based on their individual skill. Pilots who can achieve any one of the following levels, will be awarded Gold Stars of Distinction. Measurement of pilot skills will be based on how many kills a pilot can achieve in a game. Simply take a screen shot of your kills and email to Digger. Please note: you will not receive your Star unless you get a screen shot confirming your kills. Once your screen shot is sent to me, I will proudly issue your Gold Star of Distinction as it will be added to your name on the official Wolf Pack thread for all to see and then and only then are you allowed to add a * in your {WP} insignia. In addition, your Gold Star of Distinction will be added to your personal banner the squad issued to you upon being accepted to the squad. You will also be recognized for your achievement with a special post in the forum so that all pilots and squads know of your accomplishment. These are special honors that are awarded regardless of rank in the squad or Dog Fight. These achievements are not easy and are a true measure of your individual skill. Stars added to your name commands respect from all pilots, wear them proudly!

AIRMAN - 50 - 74 Kills

MARKSMAN - 75 - 99 Kills

SHARPSHOOTER 100-149 Kills

ACE - 150+ Kills

PENALTIES FOR CODE OF CONDUCT INFRACTIONS

1st Infraction - Warning from Squad MORAF
2nd Infraction - Warning from Squad MORAF, demotion in squad rank, posting of infraction in squad thread and squad forum chat
3rd Infraction - Dismissal from squad, posting of infraction in above mentioned and World Chat

WOLF PACK IN THE MILITARY

Country: United States of America

Branch: United States Air Force

Squadron: 8th Fighter Wing

Nickname: Wolf Pack

Tail Code: "WP"

Active: 10 August 1948 – present

Role: Tactical Fighter

Part of: Pacific Air Forces

Engagements:
• Army of Occupation (Japan) (1948–1952)
• Korean Service (1950–1953)
• Vietnam Service (1965–1973)
Dog Fight (Current)

im the only one that thanked him lol weird???

Not so weird, 9K

Digger wrote the original post over 6 months ago when there were very few pilots, so folks won't see it unless they go back to the very beginning (unless they've opted to view older posts before newer ones)

Thanks for liking it - I will go back and do the same.

Squeak

Thanks for bumping that up 9000.. Aye, I like it too

9k...thanks for doing that! I had just read it all over again earlier this week. Should have thought to do that myself. Thanks again!

I didn't even know you could "like" stuff when I first got here. I didn't really discover that until much later...

You can actually follow the trail. I own the second post

Np guys

I liked it too! Thanks for pointing that out 9K..

Wolf Pack,

Be certain to read Zup's latest message about playing as there has been some big changes. There's an ad watch version and $1.99/month option.

Check it out!

Dire