It was Sept 12. I had already been up twice that morning, when we were called up yet again to intercept a raid which had just hit Biggin Hill. As we were climbing to Angels 15, we were bounced by Messerschmidts! We dived to gain energy and in no time at all we were in a twisting turning fight.
I lost my wingman early, as an Emil clipped his wing about 1,000 feet off the ground. There was no chute.
Revenge was bittersweet, nothing was going to bring him back, but I latched onto the tail of one of the Jerry vultures and saw my bullets strike home with grim satisfaction...
By the time we caught the bombers again, they were over the coast and heading for France
I lined up on the port engine of one of the rearmost Heinkels and let him have what was left of my ammunition.
The Heinkel staggered, and I followed it down, watching as the crew threw themselves out of their stricken craft and into the sky over the Channel
It was a pyrrhic victory. When we landed back at Croydon, only eight Spits remained of the 12 who had taken to the air. At this rate, the Germans will be marching over the Tower Bridge by October...
< Message edited by VonStalhein -- 3/2/2008 1:49:35 PM >