from the cebudanderson site covering Robert winks Me 262 jet kill on January 15, 1945 the only real action of the day. 357th fighter group
The Squadron was at 15K feet when I spotted a lone aircraft doing slow-rolls on the deck flying in a direction away from the airfield. There were patches of snow on the ground, and the aircraft was visible whenever it overflew a patch of snow. I called it into Major Peterson but he was not able to locate it, so he gave me permission to hit it. By this time the bogey had reversed its direction and was coming back toward the airfield. I dropped my external wing fuel tanks at 15K feet, and rolled over into a near vertical dive...5 degrees of flaps with the throttle cut full back. I was closing very fast in a picture perfect combat curve, and when he came into range, I hit him from the high-rear with all six fifties' 240 rounds, right in the cockpit area. The plane caught fire, half-rolled onto its back, and dove right into the ground, and exploded. From some point behind me, probably not fifty feet away, I heard Pete Peterson say "Nice shooting!" He was right there, camera and all, just in case!
Within seconds I had pointed the nose of my plane into the heavens,...upped flaps... and it seemed that I was being helped along by the Germans exploding 20 37 mm rounds behind me. They were everywhere around me, when I discovered that I could not hear the sound of my engine! It was windmilling! No power! NO GAS!, you fool, you dropped the external wing tanks without switching to your internal tanks. SWITCH IT!...and the prop was turning so fast that it must have sucked about ten foot of air lock right out of the fuel line in seconds, and we passed through the 15K foot altitude level somewhere around the speed of sound. Or so I was praying!
With the speed of the dive and the short burst of 240 rounds, I was not certain that it was a Me-262 until I landed in England, and Pete Peterson confirmed it.
Pete Peterson could have taken that kill instead of allowing me to do it. It was his prerogative, as Squadron Leader, and I would have thought non-the-less of him, for doing so. But he gave it to me, and that victory qualified me as an Ace. Pete finished combat as a triple-Ace, but he was much more than that among the pilots of the 364th Fighter Squadron, and the 357th Fighter Group.
Captain Bob Winks flying P-51, "Trusty Rusty"