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Hey Madvad! I need this smoke generator. Could post it please? Mandatory screens

Modding in progress : I wasn't too happy with the handling at slow speed and sometimes the wingmen crashed. I just don't know what happened to this one So I decided to give more lift... but the landings on the aircraft carrier were not good anymore I got rear-ended by a wingman. I thought I should go further on the deck to wait for the wingmen, but the edge is not where it seems ^^ the left wheel is still there. On this one I recreated the issue just for the screenshot xD Wrong settings for a fake engine that I gave up later. Only the regular engines remain. I added some reverse and it worked as wanted with the player aircraft but not with the AI aircrafts who started to crash, so I deleted everything. The purpose of a fake engine at 0,0,0 of the model was to have a reverse sound, and it worked. But it looks like someone was smoking in the cargo bay next to a barrel of gasoline. It's going to take longer than I thought, but as long as the Royal Navy let me use their carrier (in the straits of Dhimar) it's ok.

Operation Granby Strikemaster!

Real life guncamera shot vs SF2 screenshot

Some Thunderbirds and civilian aerobatics training! (PS: I doing a "Smoke pod" , and I need some help with the smoke visuals. Look the difference between my smoke in the F-4D and the smoke from the T-38 TB mod. I struggling to make the white smoke less fluffy and thick, llike the more natural one in the T-38. Help is welcome ;) )

When I finish the mod I will upload it!

It is a plot from the PRC, they are using SF2 to train against ROC, do not model it ! On only Mirage 2000D and 2000N and Iran F5A and Ethiopian F5A can save the world !

As a sidenote, I think you should "merge" 2000N and 2000D, Both are bombers/ GA aircraft and the 2000D is an improvement of the 2000N (like 2000-5 vs 2000C). The 2000 that was shot down in Bosnia in 1995 was a 2000N K2

Montevideo next step:

I think our sushi is smoking!

Greek Eyes

well, I have been doing the same thing...

Jet Provost T5A

A late comer ,but rather late than never. Just added YAP RW and YAP RW flight school to SF2 Vietnam and am amazed and really love it . Excited ! This is the first mod that i've added so far. Was at first intimidated as i'm so new , but the SF2 series ,and modders make it so easy. I come from a CFS3 and IL-2 1946 background where every mod is a real pain to get right installing. SF2 is the easiest air combat sim to add mods to that i ever came across ! Let the addiction now begin ! Thanks to all the modders for making this sim a real diamond ! So much to do and looking to take as much HD space as i can with this series ! Regards,Scott

¡Olé!

F-31G Whirlwind

I shall add your name to the list - that makes you and Streakeagle.

What a great site this is ! Such wonderful people here ! Sorry i got stuck in WW I and WW II. Love this jet action and enjoy it better than DCS. Live on a fixed income, so i'll take what comes my way. SF2 was affordable with no hidden fees,(like DCS), to enjoy and tons of freeware done by wonderful people. So much fun for little money. Been trying to get my mind around Falcon BMS but it is such a steep learning curve. SF2 isn't too difficult and has a great bit of action to enjoy. Excited to be here. Thanks guys ! Regards,Scott

I'd like to underline that, because I really think that you should make a second round with only the highest scores. Otherwise the "most wanted" bird would have been chosen by a quarter of the voting community.

In practice, the N and D were used for exactly the same missions (fortunatly, because if the N had been used for its specific nuclear strike mission :( ). N over Bosnia and D over Kosovo. I think that this abominous mistake is an offense to the entire world and should only be forgiven if you cumulate the votes and mulitply them by 152655.95

I would like a cockpit for the Viggen AJ37 (very different from JA37 anyway) and for the Vautour

And so it begins... A Legionnaire’s Tale – Part 1 19 August 1915 My name is Felix Moore. Felix A. Moore. I added the ‘A’ for Arthur to make it more believable. These are not the names my mother gave me, but together they serve well enough as my nom de guerre. A gift of the Legion. I shall keep it even when my days as a Legionnaire are ended. My real name... that would cause a stir in certain quarters. The myth of the French Foreign Legion as a refuge for jilted lovers, killers, and fugitives of all kinds is exactly that – a myth. It is true that some of my brother Legionnaires joined because they sought adventure, but most signed up because they had no work. What did come as a surprise was the number of Germans. In 1912, over half the French Foreign Legion was composed of Germans. Of the rest, a few sought refuge from the law. Others, like myself, were men in need of a fresh start and a new identity. A year at West Point prepared me better than most. That seems a century ago now. Légion Étrangère. A perfect place at last. I fell into its traditions and the hard, repetitive life became one more beating making me stronger in body and in mind. With each travail, each blistering 60km march, each fight against the Arab, the troubled memories slip away. Sidi-bel-Abbes, the Legion’s Algerian home, (Holy City might be more accurate) , provided an exotic education of a different sort, the taverns and brothels of the Quartier Nègre being among them. Such lessons, and such a life, were not without cost. I would look upon the true Anciens, hardened veterans on their third or fourth enlistment, and they appeared thinned of their identity as though the color of individuality were wrung out of them, like water from a twisted cloth. They were all the same, in thought, appearance, action. Even as I admired them, I scoffed at the idea I might lose myself as they did, but theirs was exactly the path I traveled. This German war came none too soon. I might be a character in some absurd play. Enter Felix, a Moor. I am well suited to the role. The African sun burnt my Irish skin blacker than many of the native Algerians. Who was he, I wonder, my dark ancestor? Perhaps some hapless shipwrecked Spaniard of Phillip’s ruined Armada, cast on Ireland’s fatal shore and taken in by his fellow Catholics. After three years in Africa fighting the Arabs, I thought myself somehow shielded by the hand of God, a God I once thought had abandoned me… or maybe it was the Devil, or the Djinn who spoke to me in the deep desert. Whomever. After 11 months in France, any hope of divine protection seems illusion. Yet despite my calculated attempts to die, I am still alive. It cannot last. Like that romantic Seeger, I too have a rendezvous with death. Not for the glory he seeks, or the old patriotic lie. Just cold death and an ending to this pain, to this Cafard. I write this chronicle so that my life and deeds may be remembered. On my death it goes to Jacko, Porthos, Artemis or one of the others, for it is their story as well. In time, I trust that one of them will bring it to Monsieur Duval. He is the closest thing I have to family. Few of us left now, we les Anciens, the old African Legionaries. Not many of the new volunteers either. Not after we took Les Ouvrages Blancs, the so-called ‘white works.’ Trenches dug out of the chalk at the base Vimy Ridge. They could be seen for miles and were thought to be impregnable. So many assaults by other regiments broke like water against them. Thousands perished. But on May 9th they could not stand against the force of the Legion. We, the 2nd Regiment de Marche of the 1st Étrangere formed the spearhead of the Moroccan Division. Scores fell as we charged. Capitaine Junod leapt from the trench, shouting in powerful voice, “En Avant, mes enfants! Courage!” He made it twenty meters before falling wounded. Etienne, Houska and Corporal Werner died right beside me 30 seconds later. Many of the officers were killed before we cleared the trenches in front of Berthonval. More died before the White Works where our artillery failed to completely flatten the wire, but we could not be stopped. Like a great wave crashing inland, we took Les Ouvrages Blancs, then the Bethune Road, Hill 123 and finally to Hill 140 on the crest of Vimy Ridge itself. It was 11:30. Four kilometers in a mere two hours! A few madmen, bent on decorating themselves with loot, even ventured down into Vimy and Givenchy. Through it all, I was miraculously untouched by bullet or shell. My greatcoat nicked and perforated but nothing hit me. What we failed to do, as we swept onward, was clear the captured trenches of the Boche. In the wreckage we left behind, they emerged like rats from their holes to harry us from behind. A magnificent feat of arms, nonetheless. The 156th on our right were still pinned before La Targette and could not advance to support us. We sat on Hill 140 like a giant pimple waiting to be exploded. The crossfire from La Folie Farm and Neuville on our unprotected right grew worse and the German artillery started finding the range. It was around Noon when our own artillery landed on us. Terrible slaughter. The barrage continued despite desperate waving of flags and recognition panels. As I directed efforts to reverse the German trench and strengthen our position against counterattack, I saw Lt. Feraud calmly issuing a string of orders trying to get control of the chaos. Companies and Battalions were all mixed. There weren’t enough officers present to effectively organize a defense. From my vantage point, I was one of only three NCOs left alive and unwounded. Seeing the situation, Colonel Pien, our commanding officer seized a rifle and charged forward, only to be killed by a sniper. By 3:30pm enemy reinforcements came to play. City buses full of Boche stopped so close to our position that we could read the advert boards painted on their sides. We repelled the first Boche counterattack with the timely assistance of Lieutenant Wetterstrom’s machine gunners, but no additional reinforcements, machine guns, or additional officers came forward to assist us. Lieutenants became company commanders, Sergents acted as officers, and any Legionnaire with initiative found himself in the role of an NCO. Lt. Feraud, imperturbable as ever despite the bullet wound to his jaw, moved down the ruined trench. “Sergent, today you have earned the Medaille Militaire,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder. “I shall see to it personally.” He continued on his way. Ten seconds later a shell landed nearby. The blast that literally blew Lt Feraud apart before my eyes, riddled me with metal, and knocked me briefly unconscious. My memory of the next hours blurs. Fighting close in with any weapon at hand. The Boche hit us a second time and pushed us off the crest of 140 and back to Hill 123. Hundreds died holding the latter hill. I woke lying in a shell hole with an officer’s sword in my hand. Judging from the blood encrusted tip to hilt, I had done some strong work. Monsieur Duval would be pleased to see his training put into practice against his hated Germanic foe. In time two of our Russian stretcher bearers found me. Carried away at last, my comrades set me down at an impromptu aid station and went to collect others. There, I heard a wounded German officer speaking perfect French inquire of his Russian stretcher bearers what language they were speaking. “Russian,” they answered in French. “Impossible! Are the Russians here?” “One battalion,” they said. “But...what regiment?” “The Legion!” they answered. “Ah...The Legion!...The Legion!...Now I understand everything,” he sighed. The mystery of how his impregnable Ouvrages Blancs had fallen now solved, he lapsed into unconsciousness. A bloody red day, one that would see the 2nd Regiment de March receive its first unit decoration – the Croix de Guerre. But the cost… My God, the cost. We lost our commander, three of four battalion commanders, 41 other officers, scores of NCOs and 1,889 legionnaires, half our effective strength. My chance for a medal died with Lt. Feraud, but I have my life, and my wounds are nearly healed now. I shall rejoin the regiment in a week’s time.

Its better then the proverb: " An old woman is still an old woman even if you buy her a new dress. "

That just reinforces the old adage ... "A good coat of paint can hide a multitude of sins"

I took Gabilons low poly Flakpanzer Gepard LOD and gave it a new skin. Its astonishing how a good skin can change the look of a LOD with only 86 kB size.

the Coasties have a lower budget than the Marines,. all the bad publicity early on with the crashes and i think theyre too big to land on most cutters they did some tests with the XV-15 though back in the 80s

View File BAC JetProvost T5a Skins Skins for Russouk2004's Jet Provost. 4 skins included. Enjoy. Pete Submitter pappychksix Submitted 02/14/2023 Category Other  

Aeroclube de Brasilia JetProvost T5A

Photographic proof that it's not always the bombs that are retarded........

Just some photos I took testing new objects for ODS30 .

BAC 167 Strikemaster

Targets of Opportunity