Memories of the Battle of Britain

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Inspired by Bobbysocks In their own words thread and due to the fact that we're getting close (in the UK) to Battle of Britain day, I thought I'd type out some of the many accounts of the people who fought that I've collected over the past year.

Flying Officer Al Deere (New Zealander) 54 Squadron

We were frightened. On the way out there was an awful gut fear. When you sighted them it really was quite a frightening sight. But once you got into combat there wasn't time to be frightened. But we were frightened - of course we were- the whole bloody time.
If you're in combat you're so keen to get the other guy and, save your own skin, that your adrenaline's pumping and there's no room for fright.

I've often wondered why there weren't more collisions. There were probably more than we knew about, because if somebody collided you didn't know about it. There was, in the initial engagement, a danger of collision.

They started bombing the airfields. 54 Squadron's forward base was Manston in Kent, which was the most forward airfield in England - we could see Calais from Manston. We operated from there. We used to go off from Hornchurch about half an hour before first light, land at Manston, and stay there all day.

We did sometimes four sorties a day, sometimes five, not always making combat, but being shot at and shot down. We very rarely arrived back with the same number of chaps we went out with.

One morning after we'd had a bit of a fight over a convoy, we were sent off to intercept a raid coming across the Channel at 3,000 - 4,000 feet. We went off south of Manston, and found some 109's at between 3,000 and 5,000 feet. Down in the water I could see a seaplane. I didn't know it at the time, but it was a German air-sea rescue plane, which had come in to try and pick up one of their pilots. I told Johhny Allen, who was in my sub-section to go down and get the seaplane, I'd look after the 109's.
Just at that moment the 109's saw us. They started to turn around just as we did, and I found myself in a circle going head-on towards a 109 coming from the opposite direction. I pressed my gun button more in hope than anything else, and I think we must have done the same thing.
I felt the bullets hit, and the next thing I knew we had collided. It was all very quick. I hit underneath him.
My engine seized straight away, and the cockpit filled with smoke, and flames appeared from the engine. I reached to open the hood only to discover that his propeller had struck the front of my windscreen and the whole fixture was so twisted that I could not move the hood. I could not see for smoke, but managed to acertain that I was headed inland.

Nearly blinded and choked, I succeeded in keeping the airspeed at about 100 mph. I just waited to hit the ground.
Suddenly there was a terrific jerk and I was tossed left, then right, and finally pitched hard forward on my straps, which fortunately held fast.
I'd hit the ground in an open field where there were a lot of anti-invasion posts. Of course I ploughed through these, and finally came to a halt.

The remains of my ammunition were going off in a series of pops and the flames were getting very near the cockpit. We had a little thing inside, a little jemmy thing, and I managed to smash my way out with that and my bare hands, got clear of the aircraft and ran to a safe distance.

I was pretty shaken and my eyebrows were singed, both my knees were bruised, but otherwise I was uninjured. The Spitfire was burning furiously in the middle of the cornfield and had left a trail of broken posts and pieces of wing, plus the complete tail section, extending for 200 yards.

A woman came from a house nearby and asked if I'd like a cup of tea. All I remember saying was, did she have anything stronger? She rang Manston and within a fairly quick time the ambulance was up, and took me back.

I was all right for flying the next day. I'd have preferred to take a breather, but we were just too short of pilots.

Sergeant Pilot Leslie Batt 338 Squadron

I saw a 109 coming down vertically from above me. He was going at a phenomenal rate of knots and suddenly his wings came off and they appeared to shoot upwards. He must have made such a hole in the ground that I thought, 'That's saved somebody from digging a grave.'

Flying Officer Harold Bird-Wilson 17 Squadron

We had a squadron commander who believed in the head-on attack.
'The next raid we go up to intercept, we will do a head on attack,' he said.
It turned out to be a head-on attack into an Me 110 and I'm afraid Jerry got the better of him and all we found of him was his shirt.


Pilot Officer David Crook 609 Squadron.

It's an odd thing when you are being fired at by a rear gunner that the stream of bullets seems to leave the machine very slowly and in a great outward curve. You chuckle to yourself, 'Ha, the fool's missing by miles!' then, suddenly, the bullets accelerate madly and curl in towards you again and flick just past your head.
You thereupon bend your head a little lower,mutter, 'My God,' or some other suitable expression, and try and kill the rear-gunner before he makes anymore nuisance of himself.