Mission 18: September 7th 1940

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Robo
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Mission 18: September 7th 1940

Post by Robo » Sat Feb 02, 2013 11:26 pm

7th September 1940
Mission 17 (Sat 02/02/13):
Home Airfield: RAF Gravesend
Aircraft: NN-R for Rabbit, Hurricane Mk.I of No.310''Czechoslovak'' Squadron.

Stationed 'at home' in RAF Gravesend, I led a flight of my 4 fellow countrymen from No.310 Squadron again. My own No.501 Squadron was off for the rest of the day, probably a treat for the good job we did the other day over the south coast when we scratched a few 111 in a furious head-on and then after a fierce fight over RAF Ford, we got some more Hun with Sgt. Hawes and SAC Meaker. What a day that was... The main reason was the Hurricanes were shot up after the action and had to be serviced properly, we really needed new aircraft after what was going on for the last couple of weeks. Anyway, I had to take off yet again as these four chaps landed at Gravesend as they were too low on fuel to make it home to Duxford. Very aggressive these Czech pilots, they were chasing Hun to the last drop of 100 Octane fuel and knowing them, to the very last bullet, too. I was ordered to lead them for another patrol as there was a massive plot detected heading to London, we had to stop them at all costs. The good point was that I could fly one of their Hurricanes with a Czech roundel under my canopy and NN codes on the fuselage. I can't help it, it just makes me very proud and as I grabbed the stick and throttled up for scramble, I knew we're all determined and focused on the job - they won't get through, we'd rather die than let these bastards bomb London. I could imagine the same ugly formation of dozens and dozens of bombers with crosses on their wing approaching Prague, where my wife lives.. Oh God. Take off, full power climb, heading 0-9-0, let's keep it tight chaps. Odd formation of five Hurricanes roared towards Canterbury, I could hear the lad crackling on the R/T - Come in 3-10, I've got trade for you at Angels 1-3, heading 1-2-5, over'. Looking just at our 2 o'clock, formation of 9 twin engined bombers deep inland. Got them buggers, tally-ho! Nobody said a word, I knew they all switched the gunsight on and put the fire switch on, we're approaching almost head-on, and we're fast, too fast perhaps. They're Do-17, first attack - four bombers on fire, spiraling to the ground. Czech voices over the comms. There is no escort, good. We're going again. Last Dornier on fire, voices of excitement, let's get out of there. I looked at the watch, 3 minutes after we spotted them, now they lay scattered all over Kent. This will teach that fat fuck Goering sending these sods to bomb our cities like that. Sgt. Valec got 2,5, I got 2,5, Sgt. Fiks got 1, SAC Cibule got 1,5 and SAC Langmaster got the rest, 1,5- all confirmed, easy as pie. We were counting the parachutes and reported the position to the command, but they already knew. What a show it must have been for the folks on the ground - 9 Germans blown like a candle. We were quite low on ammunition and I ordered to retreat and gain some altitude. More intruders reported in the area all the way to the coast. Angels 24, turning back south. Contacts approaching - 109s! We should avoid them, really, but at this altitude, we can play even with them. After lengthy fight, my Czech fellas got 2 109s mat which point they retreated and we did not follow. I was in a good position, closing in, but only scratched the Hun as he nosed down and I was definitely Winchester. Ok boys, let's get back to the base. Angels 26, descending in a spiral, Gravesend directly beneath us. Oh and flak, they're probably waiting for us - we're landing at Southend instead. Low on fuel and ammunition, attacking them on the deck would be a suicide. All 5 pilots RTB'd at Southend, what a sortie.

The No.310 claims:
9x Do-17 destroyed
2x Bf 109 destroyed
2x Bf 109 damaged

no losses (note - Fiks's game crashed and he's listed as KIA on the server)

Pilot: OK
Plane: OK
Claims:
2x Do-17 destroyed
1x Do-17 destroyed (shared with SAC Cibule at 0.5)

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Re: Mission 18: September 7th 1940

Post by Dickie » Mon Feb 04, 2013 6:24 pm

7th September 1940
Mission 17 (Sun 03/02/13):
Home Airfield: RAF Gravesend
Aircraft: SD - K for King, Hurricane Mk.I L2329

It had been a few days without flying following a bad accident in my Morris Special 'Dolly' after a night of heavy drinking at the White Hart. Despite what the chaps said I beleive that I only lost control due to the damned blackout and poor lighting, but still, I was the only one who ended up with some nasty sprains, poor Dolly, whom had been with me since July, was a right off. The old girl served us well on many a night out and was well worth the princely sum of 4 pounds and sixpence I bid for her from the widow of my old squadron pal Charles 'Duffer' Stanton-Timms who bought it to a Jerry 109 just after Dunkirk. He'd have been pleased we put her to good use, once getting nine of us to Margate for a drinking session in if you count PO Teepee's black Labrador 'Darkie'. So there I was with my arm strapped up whilst the squadron got poke the Bosh in the eye for the next week. Come the 7th Sept rumours were abound that because Bomber Harris had hit Berlin in a raid Hitler was fuming and was going to raid London. Apparently it had humiliated that fat clown Goering (just have 501 have all Summer) and he was going to have a go back. I was itching to get up in the sky but the quacks wouldn't let me. Then late in the day 501 were scrambled, I was left in the mess with one of the chaps from No.1 Canadian called 'Dinner' Dinnershall, who also flew Hurricanes. He had fallen short the previous day and his kite was under repair by our shop at Gravesend. After 20 minutes, I tuned into the R/T and hearing our boys getting vectored to a big Hun group I couldn't stand it anymore. Dinner and I wanted some involvement and I offered him one of the spare Hurricanes from 501 but we'd have to sneak out and get it prepared - a bottle of scotch for the ground crew would do it I told him. Off we went direct from the hangers, a red Very light fired from the tower as we scrambled and gained speed across the field and the AOC was on the R/T screaming at me. I was in trouble, but it wouldn't be the first time. I replied that it didn't matter, I was "going anyway" so he had "better jolly well give me a vector to Jerry quickly".
Onward we went vectored to Guildford, then back to Ashford but found nothing, then I noticed a lone aircraft making a shallow dive for France a few thousand below us, "There, do you see him Red two?" I said to Dinner, "Yes Sir I do" came the reply in a dominion accent. I figured that he may be a Hun 109 given his course and speed and said "Well my good chap, Tally Ho". Dinner and I pulled the tit and went after him, 200mph, 220mph, 240mph, 280mph, 310mph, adjusting rudder trim in order to stay clean. Sure enough at 600 yards I could see he was a 109 and adjusted my gunsight accordingly. Then on with the gunswitch to 'fire' I dropped below him, gaining fast but staying out of his sight. At 300 yards I started to fire scoring hits into him and he immediately bunted exposing the ugly black crosses on the duck egg blue underside. I anticipated this and put the nose down with half ring of lead and sprayed three seconds into his belly. He rocked violently as holes and leaks appeared in his machine, the radiators were destroyed - he was going nowhere! I was so close I could see the oil streaks from his hunting trips over to Blightly, this was his last trip for sure. How dare he think he can help his Hun type drop bombs onto the civilians of England, even worse the home of King George! I pulled out as Dinner was coming in for his shot and he piled more 303 into this 109. I dived in for a second pass and got him some more but already he was pouring oil from the engine which was ceasing up. As I passed I could see the pilot in a bad way, then he slumped forwards and the 109 entered a deadly dive all of the way into the sea. I claim one shared Me109.
We set about looking for more and head out to the Dover Strait, then to Manston at which point we were getting a little low on fuel so decided to head home and face the music. Upon landing I was expecting a strip torn off but by good fortune AVM Park had flown in for a visit and was delighted at the performance of No.501 today. He also noticed I had fired my guns and was keen to hear all about it - there was no way I could be rogered by the bloody Station Commander whilst Parky was buying me a whiskey and letting me line shoot for the squadron!

Claims
1/2 Me109 Destroyed

Losses
None

Kupsised
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Joined: Sun Oct 07, 2012 9:06 pm

Re: Mission 18: September 7th 1940

Post by Kupsised » Mon Feb 04, 2013 7:06 pm

7th September 1940
Mission 17 (Sun 03/02/13):
Home Airfield: RAF Kenley
Aircraft: Hurricane Mk.I 100 Octane SD - A

We got up from Kenley (having abandoned Gravesend due it too many potholes and too much corn) as a six-ship formation with Sgt. Hawes in the lead and F/Sgt. Bunny as my wingman. We climbed to 20,000 and moved to intercept some bombers, but by the time we got there they'd already been ripped in to and what little remained we limping home. We kept our height and headed over to a reported furball over Eastchurch. We spotted contacts and dove in, and I quickly lost Bunny who was brought down shortly afterwards after being bounced by what sounded like two 109's. Although I found it difficult to hear him go, it may have been a lucky escape for me. I couldn't assist as I was chasing a 109 over the deck after having put a few rounds in to him. That's one damaged, but I never saw him go in so I can't claim anything more unfortunately. After pursuing for a while, one of the 109's buddies turned up and tried to bounce me, but I was long expecting him and he never even got a shot off. I then noticed a spit with me, who I I'd as 64's Nitrous, watched him climb after the 109 I had been pursuing, then watch in horror, unable to help as the second 109 dove right in to him, putting rounds straight into his cockpit. The spit dived into the sea and was lost beneath the waves. At least it was over quickly for the poor bugger.

I headed back up to Eastchurch to help SAC Bully and SGT Siddich out with a number of contacts, warily watching my six to see if either 109 would follow, but neither did. I linked up with my fellow Hurricanes, then watched Sgt Siddich take some serious engine damage, before Sgt. Hawes turned up with a similar problem. One again, I ended up pursuing a 109 on the deck towards Ramsgate, leaving my two country men to go back in to land (although it later turned out that typically Siddich had refused and instead gone after some 109's only to end up in the drink right afterwards). Once again a second 109 came in to bounce me, once again I'd seen him coming from a mile off, and once again he missed. Bully, Hawes and Siddich had all become engaged with a group of ever growing 109's and a 110 back at Eastchurch, but as I headed back all of them were shot down one by one. I knew I shouldn't have engaged, but I wanted blood. What resulted was the most amazing 10 minutes of my time as a fighter pilot. There were more than three 109s and a 110, and time and time again they came in on me, and time and time again I out turned them. They got hits on me, but nothing was ever seriously damaged and I kept fighting. I knew I was doomed, and I knew I'd never take any with me, but the fact that I must have been annoying these hun to no end kept my spirits high and I kept going. This went on for 10 minutes, and they just couldn't bring me down. After I thought they must be running out of fuel or ammo one of them finally got a fatal hit into my engine and it burst in to flames. My aircraft listed to the side, then entered a high-g dive and I was thrown from the cockpit after undoing my straps. I panicked, fumbled for my ripcord but never found it and plunged in to the sea.

I woke up some time later, after the Battle of Britain was starting to wind down, and after months of terrible nightmares of me being stuck in a 109 being chased by a Blenheim piloted by Siddich, and I always seemed to get shot down at the end. After I came round I was told of how amazing it was that I'd survived at all, let alone as long as I did, in the dogfight I'd been in, and that I'd washed up on the shores of Southend the evening of that day, out cold but still breathing, just. I was lucky to be alive, and was thankful it was all over. That feeling wouldn't last for long...

Claims: 1x 109 (damaged)
Final campaign tally: 1x 109 damaged
1x He111 damaged
1x Stuka damaged
2x Stuka (probable)
1 and 1/3x Stuka confirmed killed
1x 109 confirmed killed
1x Dornier damaged
3x Dornier confirmed killed

Pilot: Cold, wet and dead tired
Aircraft: Destroyed, and probably more hole than aircraft by the time it went in. Brilliant machine though, kept going right to the bitter end.

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