2ND FEBRUARY 1943
1945 HOURS
The light was dimming as Rory and I finally made it to our destination, a small village in France. Apparently, the Germans have had some strange goings-on down there, and we had been sent down form Dunkeswell to investigate. Rory and I had about 70% of fuel left, enough to get to France, shoot down whatever comes at us, and return home. However, I didn't know it at the time, but this night was to be different....VERY different.
"Are you okay back there?" I heard Rory call over the radio. My Hurricane powrred peacefully through the late winter air.
"Good, just a bit chilly, you?" I responded, attempting to make myself warmer. Nope. Flying at 10,000ft at 8 o' clock PM isn't the warmest thing I had ever done.
"Apparently, there's some heavy Flak resistance around here, keep a look out for any batteries," Rory told me. He had been promoted to a Flight Officer, whereas I was only a Pilot Officer. He led the way.
"Roger that, Rory, I'm looking out," I replied.
"That's SIR to you," he chuckled.
"Okay," I said, laughing as I did so. "So--"
"What's that? Out on our 5 high?"
I turned to look. My heart sank. I thought I was only meant to deal with bombers, after all, that's what I was told to do. "A Gerry," I replied, "in a 109."
"Break left!! Do your best, Charlie!" Rory called, as he swung his aircraft up to face the Messerschmitt. I broke left, dropped by about 1,000ft and prepared the guns.
"Here goes...." I said to myself, under my breath.
I heard the chatter of some machine guns. I looked back to see that the 109 had opened fire on Rory, who was busy keeping his Hurricane away from the brunt of the attacker.
I dived Earthward, trying to get myself into a better postion, and remembered that I was told to do. I scanned the ground for any Flak emplacements, and found none. Odd, I thought, maybe our intelligence was wrong.
Suddenly I heard the noise of a Daimler-Benz engine, and I knew that a 109 was upon me. I was terrified as I pulled up steeply to avoid any fire that might be coming my way. My heart was beating rapidly. I may never see my family or friends again if I don't pull through this dogfight.
I looked back to see whether the 109 had left me alone, but it had just followed my exact route that I had taken. Enough was enough. I swung my Hurricane up and down, left to right, using evasive manoeuvers to avoid him but the deadly foe kept on following. It seemed as if I was meant to get shot down anyway.
I began to feel uneasy. I began to panick terribly, and my hands became unstable. and, looking out of my cockpit to see 3 more Messerschmitt's arrive on the scene didn't exactly help. I focused my hands again and pulled the trigger. Strike! My fire went directly through the 109's engine, and I saw him plummet to the ground, spinning out of control. This gave me a glimmer of hope. The adrenaline was rushing. Time to sort this mess out.
I climbed up steeply and found another 109 to sort out. I sprayed him profusely with rounds, but he avoided the majority of my attack. Better not use too much ammo, or I won't have much left to take care of the others.
More banks and turns followed, as I heard my Hurricane taking fire. I used the rudder and swung out of the way of the fire, and climbed up to find another 109. I'll show him where to go, I thought.
Part 3B to come soon!
