Adlerangriff. Mission 26: 13th August (2. Detling 1700)

[Mauf]

Squadron: No. 501 "County of Gloucester" Squadron
Squadron Code: SD
Pilot Name: Mauf
Date: 13 Aug 1940 16:15
Base: Gravesend
Type: Hawker Hurricane Ia 100 Oct
Marking: D for Don
Serial: LI898


Synopsis:

Take off from Gravesend as Blue 3 with Teepee as Blue leader and Meaker as Blue 2 flying a forward patrol towards Manston - Deal area. Ran into a staffel of 5 109s and disengaged, diving towards Eastchurch. After evading the 109s reformed with rest of squadron east of Eastchurch and engaged a swarm of Stukas. Got shots into three Stukas, one steaming heavily and slowly diving away from the formation. Stuka tailgunners managed to shoot my engine on second approach, oil sputtering all over my windscreen. Radioed my RTB to the squad and dived away towards Eastchurch. Arrived there on dead engine gliding in for a landing. Right untercarriage failed to deploy and I half-bellied my Hurricane at Eastchurch.


Claims:

Destroyed: none
Probable: 1xJu87
Damaged: 2xJu87

Losses:
Pilot: OK
A/C: Trashheaped

[Luke]

Squadron: No. 64 Squadron
Squadron Code: SH
Pilot Name: Luke
Type: Spitfire Ia 100 octane
Marking: R for Romeo
Date: 13 Aug 1940 1615,
Base: Kenley

First death since Fall of France

Claims:
Confirmed: 0
Probable: 0
Damaged: 0

Losses:
AC: in the drink
Pilot: dead

[Kev]

Squadron: No.615 "County of Surrey" Squadron
Squadron Code: KW
Pilot Name: Kev
Call sign: Blue 1
Date: 13th August 1940
Time: 16.30
Base: Kenley
Type: Hurricane I Rotol
Marking: L - London
Serial Number: V6618


Dear Sir.

It is with deep regret that I write to inform you of the death of JT Kev whilst engaged in combat with enemy forces on 13th Aug 1940. From witness accounts it appears he damaged one enemy aircraft but collided with a second and subsequently his parachute failed to open.



Destroyed: 1xJu87
Probable: Nil
Damaged: 1xJu87
Losses: 1xHurricane-serial:V6618
Pilot: KIA

[Katt]

Squadron: No. 615 "County of Surrey" Squadron
Squadron Code: KW
Pilot Name: Katt
Date: 13 August 1940
Time: 1430hrs
Base: Kenley
Type: Hurricane 1A 100 Oct
Marking: A
Serial Number: P2581

Synopsis
Launced as Green 3 with Johnny as Green One and Kev as Green 2 - patrolled above the other chaps as top cover for the e/a single seaters - based on the traffic on the RT it appears that Green Lead was involved in mid air as was Green Two - I was engaged by at one time up to five single seaters with no observed damage to any of them - they did not seem eager to face the front end of my Hurri and we stood each other off for approx. 6-8 minutes until a 109 collided with my crate forcing a bail out.

Claims
Destroyed - 0
Probable - 0
Damaged - 0

Losses
Pilot: Parachute testing again
A/C: Lost

[Spud]

Squadron: No. 615 "County of Surrey" Squadron
Squadron Code: KW
Pilot Name: Spud
Date: 08/13/1940
Time: 1650 hrs.
Base: Kenley
Type: Hawker Hurricane
Marking: R
Serial number: N2335


Synopsis:

After yet another successfull mission bailing out the Tengmere Wing, the mighty 615 was back home at Kenley. But in the morning when I popped into the mess for some toast and tea, something just wasn't quite right. Sqd Ldr Hawes has been gone and our second in command, FL Random was called away to Group on some urgent hush-hush business. This left us without a commander. I wondered aloud if this meant we could have the day off.

"Alright Chaps"! Boomed Wing Commander Osprey as he entered the mess. "I'll be taking over 615 today. We will give Jerry a damn good thrashing and I will show the lot of you how it is really done up there". Well, so much for a day off, I thought to myself. "Right. Hurry up in here, grab your kit and meet me in dispersal in 10 minutes. I have a feeling those hun bastards will try and throw everything they've got at us today". And with that our fearless leader wheeled around and strode off towards dispersal.

I had time for a quick smoke before preflight and I ran into P/O Baron who had just returned from leave. It was good to have him back. He was a well established informal leader within our Squadron. Plus he was also very generous with the proceeds of his booming side business in the nylon department. There will be plenty of free rounds at the pub tonight if we all make it back.

At dispersal, our assignments were dolled out. I would fly as Red #3 on Osprey's wing with a new pilot, Orzel, as his #2. Hollywood would be Yellow 1 with Midge and Baron as his 2 and 3. Johnny would lead Green with new pilot, Ironman and Kat as his 2 and 3 and Kev would lead Blue with Donkey and Biggles. With our assignments set, we grabbed up our flying kit and headed for our crates.

I strapped in and got my kite ready for engine start. Rads: Open. Trim: Set. Fuel: on. Mags: both on. Throttle: Idle. Prop Lever: Full forward. Compass and Gyro: set. Gunsight: set. Fuel guages: Checked. Gear and flap handle: Neutral. And a couple of pumps on the manual hydro pump handle for good measure. You never know when that might come in handy. And then we waited........ and waited. The sun glaring down and the heat rising. I thought I was about to melt. Then, finally. The radar plots started coming in. Osprey ordered us to start up our engines. KW-R quickly sprang to life, belching a plume of smoke that was quickly blown into the open cockpit by the slipstream. The smell of oil and exhaust was welcoming. It was time to get down to the business at hand.

After taxiing to the runway in flight order we ran our machines up to full power as we tore down the runway ready to deal yet another death blow to those invading hun bastards. I quickly sucked up the gear and flaps, slid my canopy closed and tucked in on Osprey's 8 o'clock as we turned east towards Maidstone. The sun was at our back, giving us a clear view ahead as we climbed at 160 mph.

We climbed to Angels 10 and made a slight left turn to correct our course. "Ah! There they are!! Tally HO! Right off our nose, chaps"! Called Osprey. I looked ahead and there they were. We were slightly above a large flight of bombers that was covered by a higher flight of escorting 109's. "Red and Yellow flight. Pull the tit. Let's go after them. Green and Blue flight. Stay up high and take on the snappers". Called Osprey over the R/T. But we were just a tad too late. We watched as the Stuka's rolled over and dived down on Maidstone; dropping their eggs and making a mess of the place. We rolled over and dived after them. We won't let them get home. Staying with Red 1, I followed along as he dove in on a Stuka and got it venting with a burst before pulling up steeply. I followed without engaging any bombers. I knew there were still 109's in the area and wanted to keep the Wing Commander's tail clear. We rolled over and dove on them again. This time I slid out to the right and engaged a Stuka that appeared to be venting fuel. After a good squirt, it started venting glycol. I pulled the throttle back to try and finish it off. Big Mistake. I was soon targeted by half a dozen tail gunners and my oil tank was quickly perforated in a hail of fire. Knowing I only had a minute before my engine siezed, I banked hard right and climbed. I called out that my crate was hit and that I was headed for Maidstone. But my engine quickly started going south on me so I shut her down and trimmed for best glide.

Knowing that making the aerodrome was not in the cards, I set up to land in a nice little field. I lowered the gear handle and cranked on the aux pump for all it was worth. The wheels locked into place with about 5 seconds to spare and I settled in for a glorious 3 pointer and rolled to a stop. Funny how I always land better when the pressure is on. An old farmer walked up to my crate as I climbed out. He was holding his pitchfork like he was ready to claim his first hun prisoner. "Sorry about your field, Old Bean. I'll get her out of your way as soon as she's fixed. You have a phone near by?" I asked the old man. He relaxed his grip on the pitchfork and pointed it off to his left towards a couple of buildings. "There's a phone in the pub over there. My daughter works there. I'll make sure she helps you out". I pulled out my smokes, gave one to the old man, struck a match and lit them both. "That's a kind offer, but there's no need, old man". I said after a long exhale of blue smoke. "I think I'll be able to take care of it on my own". And with that I headed to the pub to introdce myself to the farmers daughter.

Claims:
Confirmed: 0
Probable: 1
Damaged:

Losses:
Pilot: Introducing myself to the farmers daughter
A/C: In need of an oil tank

Tea and Medals for a perfect dead stick landing

[Venom]

Squadron: No. 64 Squadron
Squadron Code: SH
Pilot Name: Venom
Type: Spitfire Ia 100 octane
Marking: Z
Date: 13 Aug 1940 1615,
Base: Kenley

Flying number two in Black Section lead by Nitrous with Greezy as Black three. We were grouped with Red Section. Took an order to go on patrol but ended up getting scrambled along with the rest of 64 Squadron. We searched for radar contacts with no visual before finding ourselves somewhere around Lymne. Then a call out from hurricanes engaged with multiple 109's at Angels 10 over Manston, moving towards Hearne Bay, but we were too far out to be of real assistance. Perhaps spitfire groups should stay closer to the hurricanes and cover them while they hunt/attack the bombers. We climbed to angels 21 about 5 minutes out from Hearne bay, when I spotted a lone 109 seen pulling contrails, Red flight broke to intercept. Vas ended up getting left with the 109, but got the kill. By the time we got to Hearne bay the fight had either ended or moved. We continued to hunt contacts, heading back towards Dover and folkstone. spotting some flak but finding only spitfires as contacts. Then we had call outs of a fight building near Dungeoness so we headed that way. Soon enough, Nitrous had visual on a large formation heading back towards France. He spotted a 109 above the formation. But there were multiple contacts high that I could see but he couldn't. Spitfires around me dove in to attack the bombers. I stayed high to try and engage the higher 109s. It turned out there were at least 8 high enemy fighters. Gulp. Two became engaged with me immediately after I tried to Immelman turn onto ones six in a head on but didn't have the speed to get a kill shot. I had multiple vertical head-ons with both of them before managing somehow to slip away. I was trying to drag them down to the lower fight but even if they had followed me down, the friendlies had moved, following the hun bombers in the direction of France. I pointed my nose that way tracking a distant contact before locating what was left of the fight. I dove in and engaged a yellow nosed 109, getting hits first in a deflection shot, later managing to get on his tail. He tried to run home, but I gave her everything she had and managed to quickly acquire guns range. Firing a few sniper bursts, I popped his radiator before immediately breaking off in a climb back towards England, aiming straight for the sun. I checked my six to make sure he hadn't followed, it was clear. No way he would make it home on that engine. Scratch one Jerry.

RTB Lymne to assist Binky who was damaged and limping home with two 109s in the area, by the time I got there they were gone. Both Binky and I landed safely.

Claims:
Confirmed: 0
Probable: 1
Damaged: 0

Losses:
AC: OK
Pilot: OK

[Dave]

Squadron: No. 501 "County of Gloucester" Squadron
Squadron Code: SD
Pilot Name: Dave
Date: 13 Aug 1940 16:15
Base: Gravesend
Type: Hawker Hurricane Ia 100 Oct
Marking: W "William"
Serial: P3141


Synopsis:

With our business at Tangmere concluded, 501 regrouped back at Gravesend, with 615 and 64 popping off to Kenley. By late afternoon we were nice and settled in, the erks were working their usual mechanical sorcery out in the hangars, and I was getting acquainted with the field itself. Truth be told I was rather gagging for a pint by this point, but alas we were unceremoniously paraded off to dispersal to await the call to scramble again. Bit of a reshuffle in the ranks - I remained in red section, but joined now by Fang and Toxic; the Wingco was off swanning about with 615 over in Kenley.

I was sitting at cockpit readiness with some of the other chaps for a while. I just sat there, running through mental checklists and procedures with the controls in front of me, sun beating down overhead the whole time. Soon enough the call came, everyone not already in a cockpit went dashing to their planes and within a minute, engines were starting and warming up. Normally I'd have enjoyed listening to the merlins roar, but I had a headache (engine fumes will do that to a chap after a while), so I pulled shut the canopy and waited. This proved to be a mistake.

I heard a buzzing noise, and at first started checking instruments thinking there was something up with the aircraft, until I felt something brush against my face and discovered to my surprise a small, yellow-and-black winged insect zipping about in front of me, bouncing around off the sides of the canopy. It should be noted that I bloody hate wasps - had a troubling experience with a nest of the blighters as a child, and my reaction to the little creature's presence was perhaps a little... animated. I was swatting about the cockpit, mad as a hatter - much to the consternation of Fang, who was parked just to my right (not in the least because in the process of attempting to kill the stripy menace, I successfully knocked the fuel cock off, bashed my rudder trim out of alignment, turned on the navigation lights and kicked the flaps lever to the open position. Really it's a miracle I didn't hit the undercarriage emergency release or something).

N.B. - I have been informed that the above is possibly an excess of unimportant information that "we could really do without being written into the bloody ORB."

We took off section by section this time, which did wonders for the quickness of our getting airborne. Or, at least it would have done had not my little spheksophobic escapade meant I was late to the runway. We got airborne in record time either way, and started gaining angels southwards. At around 13,000 feet red section leveled off, with the enemy bomber formations on our port side, below, off the coast. Blue section was already well and truly stuck in by this point and unfortunately due to our tardiness in our climb to altitude, red section found itself at the tail end of the enemy formation, mixing it up with a number of Me 110 escorts. We made rather short work of them, I must say. The 110 can take a bit of a beating, true, but they were so sluggish in their turns that they made easy targets. I dived on one, peppering him with a 2-second burst before pulling up to loop over and come back down for a second attack. I hit him again on the starboard side before breaking off. The hun plane was leaking glycol and belching smoke from both engines, and quickly losing altitude with no attempt made to pull up. I did not see him crash, but as I saw no parachutes and the aircraft showed no signs of pulling out of its dive, I assume the pilot must have been incapacitated. I claim this aircraft as probably destroyed.

Unfortunately I'd lost Toxic and Fang in the shuffle. I understand that Toxic had to make a landing at Manston, and I was unable to reach Fang on the R/T, which left me as the last man standing from red section, and feeling rather vulnerable on account of being all alone at the mouth of the Thames Estuary, the bombers (and the rest of 501) having moved on during our scuffle with the 110s. Luckily I got in touch with Bunny, who reported the jerries had moved on to the Rochester-Gravesend area, so I promptly turned the aircraft west and headed home. Not long after I arrived there however, we got orders over the R/T to get ourselves to Dover if possible, since there was a scrap going on over the town. Having just enough fuel to make it there and back, we headed south but alas by the time we arrived the fight had gotten away from us.

Purely by accident I rendezvoused with Wing Commander Osprey, and formed up on his wing for the remainder of the sortie. We observed one Me 109 streaming glycol and headed in a bit of a hurry towards France, and the rest of the formation of Stukas, now more than halfway back across the channel, escorts in tow. We arrived back at Gravesend in short order with the few dribs and drabs that were left of 501.

Things were looking a bit grim for a while until telephone calls began to confirm a number of our boys had successfully baled or made crash-landings near Maidstone and would be rejoining us shortly. The excitement and adrenaline of the morning had quickly given way to stony-faced exhaustion - In fact by the time I climbed out of the cockpit and collapsed on the grass I felt almost too tired to even crawl down to the local.

Almost.


Claims:

Probable: One Me 110

Losses:
Pilot: OK
A/C: OK

[Fenris]

Squadron: No. 64 Squadron
Squadron Code: SH
Pilot Name: Fenris
Type: Spitfire Ia 100 octane
Marking: F
Date: 13 Aug 1940 1615,
Base: Kenley

I got some good hits into one of the 109's protecting the retreating bombers over the channel, his wingman tried to draw me away for a drag-and-bag but his flight leader was not able to catch me afterwards, probably had some engine damage. The second 109 tried to run for france, but i turned inside him and he eventually had to bail out. Having overheated my engine in the process i climbed for altitude and was able to make a dead-stick landing at Lympne.

Claims:
Destroyed: 1
Damaged: 1

Losses:
AC: damaged
Pilot: OK

[Schmuck]

Squadron: No. 501 "County of Gloucester" Squadron
Squadron Code: SD
Pilot Name: Schmuck
Type: Hawker Hurricane Ia 100oct
Marking: L
Date: 13 Aug 1940 16:15
Base: Gravesend
Serial: V6646

Synopsis:

Landing at Gravesend from our Previous sortie, WingCo left us to whip those 615 boys into shape and headed for Kenley. We had some, but not much, needed down time to take a moment and collect our selves. Some boys came over and asked me if I cared for a game of cricket. Now coming from a City like Philadelphia in the US the only cricket you know is the insect that keeps you up at night, but hell I'll give it a shot.

Dismounting my crate I leave it with the ground crew who I ensure will take good care of her. On my way to play this game the boys call cricket I walk past LAC Dave who is holding a can of red paint, one could only imagine the look of confusion on my face. I continue trying to learn this damned game but with no such luck, however our time looked to be up as we got calls of large formations of enemy Stukas.

From there we formed up in order with Gold at the back. I formed up behind Gold Leader Robo with Gold 2 Sabre and my self as Gold 3. Blue flight had left a bit earlier to patrol a the coast, we had not heard from them in ages. After many attempts on the R/T we had no such luck and presumed the worst, but prayed they bailed out okay. No.501 Squad made their way to Manston where large Stuka formations had been spotted and by god did we find them.

What a sight, at least 40+ Stukas with 5 Bf 110's behind them, before getting the dive on them I admired the view and their massive numbers, right after I set my gun sights. "Stay with me boys one pass one kill watch your six at all times!" says Robo over the R/T. We come around and I get behind one and let him have it, getting him streaming I leave him knowing he won't make it home. As I come around to make my second pass I look behind my self and see 2 Bf 110's tailing me. I call over the R/T asking for assistance. Someone responds and tells me "Keep turning! Keep Turning I'm getting behind them now!". I turn and continue checking my six, the only thing that seemed to change was another Bf 110 had joined the mix! Shortly after I see a Hurricane form behind them and start firing.

The Bf 110's break off allowing me to pull a maneuver and get right behind them, oh how the tables have turned. I line my guns up with their Port engine and rip into it. As I catch the engine ablaze SAC Toxic comes up from under me, still focused on the 110 I rip into his Port wing putting a fairly impressive hole. Having torn up his air frame he is forced to land at East church, but not with out a plethora of apologies from my self.

Having dealt with that formation I headed for Dover where WingCo Osprey had seen a pair of 109's all by their lonesome, so I felt I should give them some company. Shortly after that I was redirected back the way I came towards the Gravesend area where more Stukas had been spotted. I headed towards Gravesend climbing to about angels 15 to get the drop on the bastards. As I pass over East Church I'm redirected towards Dover, now I've nearly scissored the whole damn Island. Flying for a bit I call up on the R/T to 501 and only hear back from Dave, Bully, Robo, and surprisingly Osprey, couldn't take those 615 guys I suppose.

I form up on Bully and fly as a pair with him, Dave forms up on Osprey and the two of them fly as a pair and Robo, a bit of a ways back, made his way over to Bully and myself to form up. Flying over Dover we spot a pair of 109's making their way home. Bully checks fuel and I do the same, "Ah... Almost down to my reserve here, should we head home chaps?" Says bully. "That would be for the best, good show today boys!" says Osprey.

We make our way for Gravesend but not without another problem. Robo had his hydraulics shot out so he has to emergency drop the gear. I fly with Robo for a bit to make sure he get's his gear is down before putting my own crate down. I come in for a landing and pull up next to LAC Dave, and finally figure out what he did with that damn Red paint..... "That's quite the spinner you have there bud" I say to Dave with a bit of a chuckle "Yeah, I like it!" He replied. We both share a good laugh, but I stick around to make sure my flight leader got down alright. After shaking hands with Robo to congratulate his damaged landing I head out to the Pub for a few much needed drinks and even more needed laughs.

Claims:
Destroyed: 1x Bf 110
Probable: 1x Ju-88
Damaged: 1x SAC Toxic (Sorry again bud!)

Losses
A/C: Safe and sound at Gravesend
Pilot: Safe and sound in a pub near Gravesend

[Binkitone]

Form 540
Mission 26
Squadron 64
Date: 13th August 1940
Time: 1620 to 1550hrs
Aerodrome: Kenley
Base: Kenley
Aeroplane: Spitfire 1a (100oct) / SH-W Serial number: K9964

Synopsis:
We were late taking off again, unable to be effective as intended.
Circling at twenty thousand feet over Manston Aerodrome, accompanied by Red One covering my five and seven. RT crackled with reports from Black Section of activity at Dover, advised to investigate and duly headed south descending to fifteen 'k'. I began to notice intermittent flak appearing momentary above, probably at our previous height. Becoming increasingly aware of the possible of 109s lurking there, eager to pounce when such an opportunity was presented, fortunately the sun, though was glaring on my twelve. The only contacts I was soon to discovered were our own boys, five specks on distance horizon, presumably Spits, going east to west across my beam.

Nitrous bellowed, "Found them here, Dungeness, large formation of Ju87s' at Angles one point five", I lowered my nose to aim at the 'English Point', proceeded to descend at full throttle, joined by Gromic's Spitfire on my three o'clock. Indicating airspeed, now three fifty plus as we dropped down rapidly to lower than four thousand feet.

Nitrous updated the status, "They are now nearly mid channel", I spotted them, a large group on my ten o'clock, correcting my heading, noticing considerably closer, a swarm, milling around. Several engagements were already taking place, a vertical climbing contact behaviour indicated a likely 109, as I watched it reached its' zenith, it stalled turned into a dive and levelled out like at only few hundred feet above the sea. I followed to close in to make sure it was indeed a hostile, at that time another Spit beneath me had chose also the same target, it was letting loose its lead.

The 109 pulled up more into my view, with my height advantage, I manage to close as it again climb vertical. It grew larger in my gun sight, squeezing the trigger for a couple of seconds burst, there were notable hits. It peeled over above to dive to the right of me, passing within feet of my crate, marginally avoiding a collision. I then saw tracers pass by my canopy, kicked my left rudder pedal and yanking the stick the same way. Checking my six, as I guessed, a yellow nose closing fast, pulling harder maintaining a tight turn, I swap turn directions several times, losing the assailant for a few moments only to look back to find two now inline in pursuit.
I was receiving many hits, but still continued to concentrate on turning tightly, gradually gaining some height. I began to edge closer north, clawing at the coastline on each completed turn, eventually reaching Folkestone Harbour not knowing whether the pair of 109s were still on my tail.
I levelled out to head into a convenient cloud over the town and drew a breath, emerging the other side over Hawkinge Aerodrome. This is when I notice just that my left wing had a large 'head size' hole through the middle. Fearing this may have effected undercarriage or flaps, I chose to land at Lympne with its better runways.
Fortunately, I alighted, with both functioning correctly safely on the ground.
What a SHoW.

Claims
Destroyed:0
Probable: 0
Damaged: 1 x bf 109
Pilot status: OK
A/C : Wing structural damage