Lawrence Thompson meets Hartmann's G-14
".... this was my first major dogfight I had in the war, in January 1945. I was flying a P-51D and
we were supposed to meet with bombers over Romania. Well, the bombers never showed up!
And we kept circling and wasting our fuel. When we were low on fuel the squadron leader orders
us back to base, with the top group at 24,000 feet and the four bait Mustangs ordered to 15,000
feet. Now you might not really think about it, but the difference in altitude, 9,000 feet, is almost
two miles, and assuming that the top flight could dive and rescue the 'bait' airplanes, it might take
a full sixty seconds or more for the top group to come to the rescue. A heck of alot can happen in
sixty seconds. Earlier, I requested to fly in the bait section believing that I'd have a better chance
to get some scores (at that time I had no victories either) and this was my seventh mission. I have
to say now that I grew up in Kansas City, Kansas, and my older brother flew a Jenny biplane in
the late 1930s, so I learned the basics of flying even before joining the Army.
So we're all heading back to Italy when, all of a sudden, a dozen or so Me109's bounce us. From
one moment it's a clear blue sky, next moment there are dozens' of tracers passing my cockpit.
I'm hit several times and I roll over to the right, and below me is an P-51, heading for the deck,
with an Me109 chasing him. I begin to chase the Me109. All this time I believe there was
another Me109 chasing me! It was a racetrack, all four of us were racing for the finish line!
Eventually I caught up with the first Me109 and I fired a long burst at about 1,000 yards, to no
effect. Then I waited until about 600 yards, I fired two very long bursts, probably five seconds
each (P-51 has ammo for about 18 seconds of continuous bursts for four machine guns, the
remaining two machine guns will shoot for about 24 seconds). I noticed that part of his engine
cowling flew off and he immediately broke off his attack on the lead P-51. I check my rear view
mirrors and there's nothing behind me now; somehow, I have managed to lose the Me109
following me, probably because the diving speed of the P-51 is sixty mph faster than the Me109.
So I pull up on the yoke and level out; suddenly a Me109 loomes about as large as a barn door
right in front of me! And he fires his guns at me, and he rolls to the right, in a Lufberry circle. I
peel off, following this Me109. I can see silver P-51s and black nosed camouflaged painted
Me109s everywhere I look, there's Me109 or P-51 everywhere! At this time I cannot get on the
transmitter and talk, everyone else in the squadron is yelling and talking, and there's nothing but
yelling, screaming, and incoherent interference as everyone presses their mike buttons at the
same time. I can smell something in the cockpit. Hydraulic fluid! I knew I got hit earlier.
.... I'm still following this Me109. I just got my first confirmed kill of my tour, and now I'm
really hot. I believe that I am the hottest pilot in the USAAF! And now I'm thinking to myself:
am I going to shoot this Me109 down too?! He rolls and we turn, and turn; somehow, I cannot
catch up with him in the Lufberry circle, we just keep circling. About the third 360 degree turn
he and I must have spotted two Mustangs flying below us, about 2,000 feet below, and he dives
for the two P-51s.
Now I'm about 150 yards from him, and I get my gunsight on his tail, but I cannot shoot, because
if I shoot wide, or my bullets pass through him, I might shoot down one or both P-51s, so I get a
front seat, watching, fearful that this guy will shoot down a P-51 we're approaching at about 390
mph. There's so much interference on the R/T I cannot warn the two Mustangs, I fire one very
long burst of about seven or eight seconds purposely wide, so it misses the Mustangs, and the
Me109 pilot can see the tracers. None of the Mustang pilots see the tracers either! I was half
hoping expecting that they'd see my tracers and turn out of the way of the diving Me109. But no
such luck. I quit firing. The Me109 still dives, and as he approaches the two P-51s he holds his
fire, and as the gap closes, two hundred yards, one hundred yards, fifty yards the Hun does not
fire a shot. No tracers, nothing! At less than ten yards, it looks like he's going to ram the lead P-
51 and the Hun fires one single shot from his 20mm cannon! And Bang! Engine parts, white
smoke, glycol, whatnot from the lead P-51 is everywhere, and that unfortunate Mustang begins a
gentle roll to the right.
