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Flight Lieutennant Myles Duke-Woolley 23 and 254 Squadrons

I lost many friends during the battle but none more courageous than Squadron Leader 'Spike' O'Brien.

Spike and I had our first combats on the night of 6th June 1940, and Spike's saga started then.

It was a gin clear night with a full moon, and Spike took a new pilot up with him in a Blenheim I to show him the sector that night.
After take off he was diverted and intercepted an He 111 that was returning after bombing Birmingham. In the gunfight the Heinkel went
down and Spike's Blenheim went out of contol in a spin. At that time no pilot had ever got out of a spinning Blenheim alive,
because the only way out was through the top sliding hatch and you then fell through the airscrew. The new boy probably didn't know that
but nevertheless he froze, and Spike had to get him out.

He undid his seatbelt, unplugged his oxygen, and threw him bodily out of the top hatch whilst holding his parachute ripcord.
He told me afterwards that he felt sick when the lad fell through the airscrew. Spike then had to get out himself. He grasped the
wireless aerial behind the hatch, pulled himself up it and then tured round so his feet were on the side of the fuselage.
He then kicked outwards as hard as he could. He felt the tip of an airscrew 'pat' him on the earpiece of his helmet.

He landed on the outskirts of a village and went to the nearest pub to ring base and ask for transport home. He got himself a pint
and sat down at a table to chat with another chap who was sitting there in uniform. After some time, thinking the chaps uniform was
a bit unusual, Spike asked him if he was a Pole or a Czech. Oh no said his companion in impeccable English, 'I'm a German pilot actually.
Just been shot down by one of your blokes.' At this Spike sprang to his feet and said, 'I arrest you in the name of the King. And anyway,
where did you learn English?' The German said 'That's all right. I won't try to get away. In fact I studied at Cambridge for 3 years, just down the way.'
Then he said, 'I shall be out of here in a week or two's time, you know.'
'Like bloody hell you will!' said Spike.
'Let's agree to disagree,' said the German, 'my shout, what's yours?' 'Hey you can't go buying me a drink! 'said Spike
'Why not? I've got plenty of English money and it's no more your pub than mine.' So that's what they did, sat and had a drink.

A few days later Spike was posted for a rest to a controllers course in the West Country. One morning when strolling along the tarmac of the airfield,
he was surprised to see Do-17 overhead at about 2,000 feet. Alongside the track there was a visiting Spitfire, Spike leapt in, started up, and took off
in pusuit. No helmet and no parachute, he caught the Dornier and shot it down. When the AOC 10 group heard the story he was immediately promoted to
command a Spitfire squadron at Middle Wallop.

In late August his squadron reinforced 11 Group on one sortie against a raid bt Me-110's on Hawkers Weybridge factory. Spike was seen to be engaging an Me-110,
beleived destroyed, whilst himself being attacked by another. Some 15 mins later he appeared in the circuit at Biggin Hill. He lowered the undercarriage and flaps
and was turning on to finals at around 600 feet when his aircraft caught fire. Probably an incendiary bullet had lodged in his petrol tanks and sparked of the
vapour above the fuel when it's level fell. He was seen to bale out, but his parachute was not fully deployed when he hit the ground and he was dead when the
ambulance reached him.

I spoke later to the Doctor who was in the ambulance. When he examined Spike's body, he found that his left arm had been shot off below the shoulder, and his left eye
had been shot out of his head. Yet he had flown that Spit right down to approach for a normal landing! It was almost unbeleivable that he had done that with one arm.
Throttle control, flap control, elevator trim - that's what you needed to juggle. Opening the roof is one handed - if you let go of the stick - but then to have
climbed out with those injuries and pulled the ripcord must have required almost superhuman will power and guts. But then that was Spike.