A flying ace or fighter ace is a military aviator credited with shooting down several enemy aircraft during aerial combat. The actual number of aerial victories required to officially qualify as an "ace" has varied, but is usually considered to be five or more. The few aces among combat aviators have historically accounted for the majority of air-to-air victories in military history.Erich Hartmann is the ace of aces, the highest scoring ace of all time with a total of 352 confirmed victories.
World War I introduced the systematic use of true single-seat fighter aircraft, with enough speed and agility to catch and maintain contact with targets in the air, coupled with armament sufficiently powerful to destroy the targets. Aerial combat became a prominent feature with the Fokker Scourge, in the last half of 1915. This was also the beginning of a long-standing trend in warfare, showing statistically that approximately five percent of combat pilots account for the majority of air-to-air victories.
Fighter Ace was a massively multiplayer online combat flight simulator video game in which one flies World War II fighter planes in combat against other players and virtual pilots.
A place afar in distant dreams
Mystic winds blow
Men mount birds of prey to war
And raid each others shore
Wizards and Warlocks battle by night
One survives by cunning and might
Take what you can by sword and sabre
Just reward for perilous labour
Stands among them a natural King
A man of barbaric breed
In a blade of steel he lays his trust
Killing and taking his needs
Upon him the scars of battles gone by
From many who have gazed in his murderous eye
Astride his mount he cursed and then
Assembled his men in thousands and ten
Onward lads we'll kill them all
Victory is ours
We'll have their heads and female slaves
Soon to loot their towers
Riding hard they rushed the gates
And scaled the granite walls
Through boiling oil and falling stone
His men endured it all
In bloody streets the battle raged
Brave men died and women were caged
Amidst the hoard, a barbaric roar
He gut the guard and kicked down the door
Sword in one hand, torch in the other
Alert every step of the way
If legends be true this place is cursed
Demons stand guard night and day
Living hell cloaked in black
Three ungodly hosts
Upon the dais a ball of light
Which binds them to their post
Faster than a striking cobra
Hit the altar and knocked it over
Shattered in a silver shower
The priests of hell have lost their power
Up the stairs a golden door
The queen awaits within
Her naked body close to his
The prize is won again
And has she yields to his force