The Mammoth Book of Fighter Pilots (32 page)

I jumped up as the two French soldiers came crashing through the trees, one with a revolver in his hand and the other carrying a rifle. “
Haut les mains!
” they shouted, pointing their weapons at me. I raised my arms as they advanced cautiously. I was wearing white overalls over my uniform, and still had my helmet and oxygen-mask on. I spoke through the mask with difficulty. They refused to believe I was English, but I eventually managed to persuade them to look for the RAF wings under my overalls. Having done this, they put down their weapons and embraced me warmly.

I tore off my helmet and threw it on the ground, shouting, “
Ces salauds de Boches!
” which relieved my feelings slightly. We gathered up my parachute and moved on to the village. I rode in the side-car of their motorcycle combination. The entire population of Rumigny had witnessed the fight and had seen six Huns come down nearby; they later found four more, making a total of ten. They had watched me fighting the remaining five and said it had lasted at least fifteen minutes, perhaps more.

When I got back to the Squadron I found that Johnny claimed to have shot down one definitely, and perhaps two, Hilly two, Killy two and Soper two. With my two that made exactly the number found – ten – leaving the number I had fought as five (total fifteen as counted before the fight). The villagers on the ground had seen two enemy tails come off – presumably one was mine; the other was Killy’s. The police presented me with one of the fins – with the black-and-white swastika pierced by two bullets, it made a respectable match for the two First War fins we had with the Black Cross emblems on them.

Donald Hills, our equipment officer, came over to collect me in the Renault, but as it was late we decided to stay the night. We ate and drank well. The French were enthusiastic over our victory, and I was encouraged to hear that the thirty Dorniers had turned and beetled off when we tackled their fighter escort. The French had taken prisoner the pilot of the first 110 to crash, which had been mine, and we rang up during dinner to find out if we could see him. He had a bullet in the thigh and was in hospital. When we got through, he had just been taken away by French Air Intelligence, but an officer who had spoken to him gave us some details; he was twenty-three, a fanatical Austrian Nazi from Vienna and said he was furious to be knocked out of the war so soon. He must have been a liar too, for he claimed to have shot me down. As I went down a good fifteen minutes later (after his departure) I thought his claim a trifle extravagant.
²²

There was only one bed available, so Donald and I had to share it. We’d wined and dined too well to care. Before dinner I had tramped a good seven miles across country looking for one of the Huns, led by a tough little
Chasseur
, so I was extremely tired.

We woke up in the grey dawn to the reverberations of very heavy bombing. Liart and Hirson, two neighbouring towns with railway junctions, were being flattened out with a big civilian death-roll. As one of the Frenchmen had said to me at dinner, “
Il est fort, ce Bosche!
”

We got back to the Squadron at tea-time on May 12th, displaying my fin in triumph. Killy told me he had seen me stuck with the Huns but could only say “Poor bastard!” to himself and buzz off, as he had no ammunition left, and neither had anyone else. It was my own stupid fault for getting stuck anyway.

The airfield had been bombed twice during my absence. “B” Flight had been at it again – Leslie Clisby got two Dornier 17s at Avaux, where he had landed on a French airfield and been shot up by the ground defences doing so. Prosser and Boy each got a 110 in the fight.

Rickey returned to England wounded on June 14th, 1940, and was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. On regaining his medical flying category, he served with No 609 (Fighter) squadron, 74 (Fighter) Squadron, and commanded No 165 (Fighter) Wing and then No 189 (Fighter) Wing in the Far East. After being invalided with tropical diseases, Richey served as a staff officer with SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force) and ended the war as a wing commander operations with 2nd Tactical Air Force. During the Korean War he was recalled to regular service.

BATTLE OF BRITAIN DIARY

D.H. WISSLER

After the fall of France, Hitler turned his attention to Britain, determining upon invasion of the island in the autumn of 1940. First, however, there was the small matter of sweeping the fighters of the Royal Air Force from the skies. Herman Goering, head of the Luftwaffe, believed that it would take his fighters, now operating from their new bases in occupied Europe, just four days to eradicate the RAF from the south of England. As it turned out, it took the Luftwaffe one month – 12 August to 15 September 1940- to lose the “Battle of Britain”. Although the numerical advantage lay with the Luftwaffe (which initially put up some 980 fighters against the RAF’s 700), the range of the principal German fighter, the Messerschmitt Bf109, when used as an escort to bombers, was limited to the south-east corner of England, and then for a relatively short period only, something in the region of ten minutes. Or, put another way, RAF fighters could fly for longer over the main area of the battle. They also had the advantage of aground system of radar which detected the enemy and a fighter control which directed them to the target, removing the need for patrol. This said, the Luftwaffe came close to winning the Battle in September, when it destroyed 185 British aircraft for the loss of 225 German (including bombers) in the first week, and the RAF began to run precariously low on men and machines. The RAF might have triumphed anyway, but Hitler made sure that they did. In a fit of of pique following the RAF’s bombing raid on Berlin of 25 August, he ordered the Luftwaffe’s bombers to switch their aim from Britain’s airfields to its cities, particularly London. On 7 September the Luftwaffe sent nearly 400 bombers and more than 600 fighters in two waves to attack the East End of London. The damage was considerable; but it did nothing to lessen the effectiveness of Fighter Command. Nor did the ensuing raids on Britain’s cities. On 17 September, Hitler suspended his plans for the invasion of Britain. Total losses of aircraft incurred during the Battle stood at 922 British, 1,767 German. The Third Reich had lost its first battle. A Hurricane pilot with 17 Squadron, Wissler fought throughout the Battle of Britain.

Diary 15 August 1940 [Martlesham Heath]

I did not get up until 8 this morning and then went down to flight. I did a convoy patrol this morning, acting as section leader. Then in the afternoon there was a flap and took off. Joined Red section and went hunting. The aerodrome was bombed, several 10001b bombs being dropped not doing too much damage. We didn’t even get a chance to fire although F/1 Harper was shot down, but managed to jump, though wounded. In the evening we watched a raid over Harwich being machine-gunned and shelled. He[Heinkels] dropped one large bomb!

Monday, 19 August

I was recalled from leave today . . . The squadron is moving to TANGMERE. I flew “X”, which was due for an inspection, to Debden. “V”, my own plane not ready, so I spent the night in a comfortable bed for a change . . .

Tuesday, 20 August

I took off from Debden at about 10.15 and flew to Tangmere. I navigated my way ok but being on the coast this wasn’t very hard. Tangmere is in a shocking state. The buildings being in an awful shambles, several 10001b bombs having fallen. We were put to 30 mins at 1, and did nothing for the rest of the day. The dispersal hut is most cozy and puts ours at Debden to shame.

Wednesday, 21 August

We did some flap flying patrols today . . . but the Flight commander only saw one E/A [enemy aircraft] and then only for a second when it was between some clouds. The other section in our flight shot down a Ju88 as did yellow section in “A” flight. After it was quite dusk we were sent up on patrol but having got to 7000 ft over the aerodrome we were recalled.

Friday, 23 August

I did not fly at all today, in fact it was very quiet. We were released at 1 p.m. and went up [to London] on train. I went home.

Saturday, 24 August

There was an air raid warning in Blackheath and thought I should miss my train. However, we caught it and arrived back ok. In the afternoon we went up on a flap and saw dozens of E/A going out to sea, however did not fire although the CO and P/O Stevens got an He111. We had one very short patrol after this, but nothing was seen.

Sunday, 25 August

This was our hard day being at 15 mins and readiness the day long. At about half past seven we had a hell of a scrap over Portland in which 100 a/c were engaged. F/L Bayne made an attack below and astern quarter. The ME110 whipped up in a slow turn and I gave him a long burst while he was in a stalled condition, it fell over and went down. I then went on my own and made an He111 break formation. I gave it another burst and it went down towards the sea. F/L Bayne shot down but ok. F/L Williams lost wing. Shot off.

Saturday, 31 August

We did four patrols today ending up with one in which we intercepted about 30 Do[rnier]17s and 20–30 Me 109s. I got on an Me 109s tail, after an ineffectual attack on the bombers, and got in several long bursts at about 300 yards, however nothing was observed in the way of damage. Another got on my tail and I had to break away. I succeeded in throwing him off in a steep turn but not before he had put a explosive bullet through my wing. Sgt Stewart was shot down, but was safe. I lost another tail wheel today.

Tuesday, 3 September

We did two patrols, in the first intercepted about 100 E/A (Do.215 and Me 110). F/Lt Bayne and I got on an Me 110’s tail and firing together sent it down in flames. We then attacked a Do 215, [?] Leary finishing the attack and the bomber crashed in a field just North of the River Crouch. I collected a bullet in the radiator and got covered with glycol, force landing at Castle Camps. Collected a Hurricane off 111 Sqd., flew back to Debden . . . We did one more patrol over the Thames. Then in the night I was aerodrome Control Pilot.

Saturday, 7 September

I did two types again today, the one in the morning was uneventful, the second at 5.30, on which we used V.H.F. for the first time, we saw four huge enemy formations but as we were only 6 we did not engage. We had one short scrap with Me 109’s, but I only had one short burst – with no effect. These raids created a lot of damage in London. The provisional casualty list say 400 dead, 15,000 seriously injured: what complete swine these Jerries are.

Sunday, 8 September

Did not fly today and got afternoon off. Went on 4 days leave. Air raids have messed up London quite a bit.

Sunday, 15 September

I flew once today but missed the Big Blitz owing to my a/c being unservicable. Nothing was claimed by anyone because there were so many Jerries, over 200 in all. I am at 15 mins readiness tonight, and will be second off, if we have to fly. The RAF claimed 167 e/a destroyed, boy oh boy what a total. We had the station dance band in the mess tonight, and it turned into quite a party. Czernin is now DFC.

Tuesday, 17 September

We did a couple of patrols today but neither came to anything. I feel very depressed tonight. I don’t know why, just a passing mood. Alf Bayne’s engine cut taking off, and he had a glorious pile up, completely wrecking the Hurricane but only getting an odd bruise himself.

Wednesday, 18 September

We did four patrols today of over an hour each. On the first we saw lots of Huns way above us we could not engage, and anyway they were fighters. Nothing happened on any of the other patrols although there appear to have been lots of e/a about. We tried most unsuccessfully to play a game of snooker in the evening but the lights kept going out: switched out by the Control room when a Hun is about, how they flap here!!

Friday, 20 September

I went to the Sergeants’ Mess this evening for a party and got to know a sweet little W.A.A.F. named Margaret Cameron and we had quite a kissing session after the party was over.

Tuesday, 24 September

I had just one (patrol) and one blitz only (8.30). We were attacked by ME 109s and having made our attack on an Me 109 I was making a second . . . when I realized I should let it all go. I levelled off. Suddenly there was a blinding flash on my port wing and I felt a hell of a blow on my left arm, and the blood running down. I went into a hell of a dive and came back to Debden. A cannon shell had hit my wing and a bit of it had hit me just above the elbow and behind. The shell had blown away most of my port flap. So I tried to land without flaps and I could not stop and crashed into a pile of stones just off the field, hitting my face and cutting it in two places. I was taken to Saffron Walden General Hospital, they operated but had to leave small pieces in . . .

Thursday, 26 September

Hospital.

Sunday, 29 September

Did nothing during the day but there was the usual band in the mess and when they packed up I completed the party at the Sergeants’ Mess. Met Edith Heap and fell in love with her at sight. I rather cut Margaret Cameron and I am not as popular as
I
was!!!

Monday, 7 October

Returned to Debden, had grand party, and met Edith Heap, my God it seems to be the real thing this time. She is so sweet and seems to like me as much as I like her.

PO Wissler was reported missing in November 1940.

FINEST HOUR

JOHN BEARD

Pilot Officer John Beard was 23 at the time of the Battle of Britain. He flew a Hawker Hurricane Mk I, the mainstay RAF fighter during the Battle of Britain.

I was supposed to be away on a day’s leave but dropped back to the aerodrome to see if there was a letter from my wife. When I found out that
all
the squadrons had gone off into action, I decided to stand by, because obviously something big was happening. While I was climbing into my flying kit, our Hurricanes came slipping back out of the sky to refuel, reload ammunition, and take off again. The returning pilots were full of talk about flocks of enemy bombers and fighters which were trying to break through along the Thames Estuary. You couldn’t miss hitting them, they said. Off to the east I could hear the steady roll of anti-aircraft fire. It was a brilliant afternoon with a flawless blue sky. I was crazy to be off.