hope this one is as good as others have been.
it was a cold morning. we had gotten the call to scramble. the british had just run a particularily rough bombing mission over night, and there were crews that bailed, or ditched in the channel. we needed all available aircraft out looking for them, as time was critical.
there were other fighters out looking, and we were warned to keep our eyes opened for enemy fighters, as they were out on sweeps this morning.
i jumped in my hawker hurricane, my crewchief helped me strap in, then stood at the ready as i fired her up. she needed a little extra prime, with the temps so low this morning. she finally caught, and i smiled to myself as 1280hp or merlin magic roared to life.
chocks cleared, i taxi out across the grass, finishing my checklists as i go. one final runup, and i feed the throttle slowly in, holding right rudder to keep her tracking true. she accelerates nicely in the chill morning air, and seems to leap into the air, as i pull the gear lever.i head for the coast, as i climb to angels 5.
level at angels 5, i hear calls for help. midway across the channel, a couple of our guys were jumped by me109's.
snugging on my safety harness, i turn on the guns, and gunsight, set mixture, and push the throttle up to full.
in the distance, i can see them. 4 me109's on a spitfire.
i steeled myself, and rolled into the swarm, as i made a quick call reporting the enemy altitude, strength, and location to command.
2 immediatly broke off of the spit, and came to me. i lost sight of one, but the other seemed as if he were glued to my tail.
i was fast enough, that i could climb away from him, rather than turn, so close to the water. i reset, and came in again. this time, all 4 of them came after me like a swarm of angry bees.
stay calm cap.....just keep the plane moving, and she'll take care of ya. hurricanes are tough. these are the real workhorses of the RAF, contrary to popular belief. i pull into a high yoyo, losing a couple for a moment, and i stand on the rudder, giving me a shot on one of them. CRAP!! i'm gonna hit him!!!! i was so close, i could see the german looking at me, in amazement. he had to have wondered how he got in front of me. out of reflex, and nothing more, i pushed the firing button, and saw several hits on his fuselage. i also noted that he(and the other three) all wore yellow noses on their aircraft.
we had all heard about these guys. the abbeville boys i think the bomber crews called em. i hadn't thought they were operating this close to england though.
now i was sweating a little. these guys were more feared than any other luftwaffe squadron. and i got 4 of em gunnin for me. where the hell's that help??
i pull back up after my shot, only to find 3 of em on my six again, but i also note another hurricane dropping into the fray. thank god!! now the odds are a little better. i yank the throttle back, dump flaps out, roll the stick hard right, and stand on the right rudder again, reversing on my pursuers. it did as it was intended, and seperated them. i got another shot off at one, as the other flew right by me,
now i'm planted on this one. drano's warning me that i've got 2 on my six again, but by this point, i've gotten a bit fixated on my prey. i bet he's regretting having such bright colors on his plane right now. that yellow nose makes a wonderful target each time he turns.
he pulls up hard, and i again throttle back as i pull hard on the stick, gaining a lead shot on him. but wait?? where the hell'd he go? crap!! i ram the throttle full forward, slam the stick and rudder to the right rolling over, and there he is, below me. he nosed over, trying to take advantage of having fuel injected engine. dam, this guy IS better than most. he lost a lot of speed there,......he may be good, but he doesn't have the room now to evade me much longer. i notice tracers going by the canopy, and duck. my adversary pulls into a flat left turn, and i follow, throttling back to gain lead again. just as i think i'm about to have a shot, i notice his wings start a right roll......stomp rudder, slam stick right and forward, squeeze firing button, just in time to see him cross my path, and fly right into my bullets. his wing folds, and he drops uncontrollably into the channel.
i firewall the throttle again, and continue my roll, pulling the stick into my gut, nearly blacking out. i look over my shoulder, just in time to see my help stall his plane, and hit the water. now it's 1-2, as it appeared as if he had gotten one before hitting the drink.
this is good. i've got both of these guys out of sync with me, and almost got them to collide with each other.
one of them stays right with me, as the other keeps going out, and coming back through the fight with slashing attacks.
