I'm still stunned.
I flew the 2nd frame on Saturday, got on at 2:30 and was ready to roll by 3 with time to kill, which is what we did. We sat on the runway after start, waiting for our order to roll, just like so many aviators back in WW2 had to do. When we got our orders, the sounds of all of those engines belching to life was fantastic!
We climbed up to altitude at a heading ordered by our radar controller. Each group had its own controller, and ours (Fidd) had an authentic British accent (good for immersion). During the climb-out, I became separated from the group and was nearly bounced by a cluster of Me-109s just inland of the southeatern coast. I dove away and they decided not to follow me down, choosing instead to rev back and engage my squadron. When I saw the Me-109s turn back, I climbed up (I won't say zoomed because Hurricane Mk I's certainly don't zoom) and circled around to catch up with my comrades.
By now they were in the thick of it with the 109s and the furball was dropping lower and lower, but I was still too far away to engage. Guessing that the German bombers couldn't be too far behind the fighter screen, I stayed at altitude and pointed my nose along the coastline, waiting for the enemy.
I lost visual of my squadron at some point as they dropped lower and lower and I was passed from my controller (Fidd) to another (klem, who had a wonderful British accent - see that immersion!) to help intercept a bomber wave coming over the channel west of me. By the time I got close enough to see them, they were on egress and of no value strategically since they had already dropped their loads, so I was directed to regroup with another squadron near a vehicle base near the southeast coast (V119 was the number, I think, but I could be wrong).
Passing from one controller to another gave me a pretty good idea of the battlefield of southeast England. Several of our frontline bases had been hit, some worse than others, and burning Hurricanes and Messerschmitts were scattered along the coast, the channel, and inland. Most of the squadrons had been reduced to half-strength after the opening fights and were regrouping to take a head count.
I linked up with a squadron led by Dstar with Tjay and 3 others, all with British accents (there's that immersion thing again) and circled at 21,000 feet awaiting another intercept plot. I advised my controller that I was down to 50% fuel in my main tank and he suggested I refuel as there weren't any enemy planes coming over the channel at the moment. He did advise me that there were suspected Me-109s lingering over one of the airbases north of my position and that I should proceed to a base farther inland.
As I dropped down for my approach, I came upon my original squadron returning from battle. They had bagged a collection of 109s at the loss of 6 planes from the group (only 1 from the squadron, though) and were mildly amused that I had missed the action. Actually, I was feeling pretty good about myself in that I had managed to survive my brief encounter with the enemy and was ready to stand watch again.
We re-armed, re-fueled and launched again and were directed to a group of German bombers loitering along the coastline. By the time we had climbed to altitude and gotten close enough to get a visual on their group, they were egressing. We pursued them until they got over the coast of France, at which point we turned back to land and call it a day.
Britain was saved once again, and I had never had so much fun in a Tour of Duty. Two hours of flight time and I had never fired a shot, but it was probably the most memorable 2 hour flight I'll ever have.
At least, until next Saturday.
