This is what happens when you do everything wrong in air combat...

Hal Far Flight
Combat report 31 July 1940

It was a cloudy day, which matched the mood in the mess. We have fifteen combat ready pilots to fly one lousy Hurricane, and the whole of the Regia Aeronautica buzzing around overhead.

I had to sit out the morning sorties, I wouldn't have minded even a run in a Gladiator, but this afternoon I won the lottery. Old JX-A had been patched up after the beating she took this morning and was spoiling for a fight, and so was I!



As we pulled up from the end of the Hal Far strip, the fire in one of the hangars took hold again and it fairly exploded afresh, like it had just been bombed again.





The island is a right mess.



We can't scrape together more than three kites, and the Gladiators are flying on string and canvas patches torn from horses waterbags.



As I pulled up along the East coast, over the seaplane base at Kalafrana, I got a vector to sector G3 - 20+ bandits, angels 20. As usual I would be climbing with throttle through the gate, while the Eyeties were looking down from above, deciding whether I was worth the effort of coming down and swatting me.







Sure enough, I saw a swarm of fighters off my starboard beam. There was nothing for it, I turned to meet them and pulled my nose up.




As I closed I saw them bobbing around like angry gnats - Fiat biplanes. We opened fire at the same time, my multiple Brownings tearing the sky between us.









The lead machine roared past and I saw I had connected, it was streaming oil.





I had just enough airspeed to pull up and after him, trailing gnats behind me.





It wasn't easy to find him against the dusty brown of the Maltese background, but then I saw him, spiralling for the sea.



I followed him down, giving him a couple more bursts



Just above the ocean, he levelled out, but then his engine cut out...



He went in, and turned tail over head.





There was no time to gloat...I had picked up a twin winged shadow...



I quickly realised, there was no out manoeuvering him in my tired old Hurri...





I would have to trust to the longer legs of my Merlin, and try to outclimb him, so I set about it. Gradually he fell behind...





As I climbed, I saw them. 9 fat BR20s, on a beeline for Grand Harbour. I slapped my head - what a fool!! I had let the escorts drag me into a pointless furball down on the deck, while the real target cruised overhead, totally unmolested. Ignoring the threat at my rear, which was dropping further behind anyway, I set out after the BR20s.





They were flying echelon right. I knew that if I was spotted, there would be 18 guns trained on me if I made an approach from their six, so I set a course off their starboard side, thinking that...

That was my fatal error.

I was so fixated on the bombers that had slipped past me, I stopped checking the sky around me. Of course the CR42s were not the only escort.





A pair of camel-backed G50s was hunting me like hounds hunt a baby rabbit.

They came down on me like the proverbial sack of...bricks.





Tracer started flashing past my nose and would you believe, I thought it was the bombers? How could they be so accurate at such range? I actually chopped my throttle to hang a bit further back.







Then a line of slugs hammered into my tail, and walked along the spine of my machine.





Something hammered into the armour plate against my back. I was thrown forward in my harness, maybe I passed out...I don't know.

When I opened my eyes, I was still flying straight and level, but everything was red, and blurred.



More bullets banged into my poor Hurricane, but I was too dazed to even react.



I heard the engine of one of the G50s as it went by underneath me, but it was just a bothersome buzz...like a bee you can't chase off. I waved my hand in front of my face.

I looked behind me...oh, there was another one. Another bothersome bee.



Holes appeared in my wing. That wasn't good. The erks would be cross about that. After all, it was our last Hurricane. I'd be in for a right bollocking.





A droning sound drew closer. I knew I was supposed to do something. But...what? I tried to reach the joystick with my right arm, but it felt a bit useless, so I batted at it with my left, and the Hurricane rolled on its back and fell out of the sky.





That felt much, much worse, so I pulled back on the stick and levelled out. I had a headache. I needed an aspirin. That was it. Get the machine down, get an aspirin. Have a little rest, just a little one...bugger what the erks thought.



Then there was a terrible grinding noise up front and the windshield was suddenly filthy with oil. That wasn't fair. How was I supposed to find the field?



I put the nose down and picked up some speed, which pushed a bit of the oil off...but made my head hurt again, so I pulled up and lined up with Takali. It was close. They would have aspirin there.







More buzzing. What was that? Oh, more gnats.





Quite annoying, but nothing I could do about them. I waved at them and they flew away to bother someone else.





I rocketed in over Takali. Oh, that was not good. Too fast, way too fast.



I saw the medical tent at the edge of the field, they would have something for my head. That was good, but they whipped away under my wing and were gone. Bother. That would be a long walk.



The field disappered behind me, the Hurricane dropped over a small rise, and...oh, flaps and gear. I pushed at the levers, but nothing seemed to engage.



Airspeed? I couldn't read it. It still felt too fast.



I needed air. I pulled back the canopy with my one good hand, and the nose pitched up.



I seemed to hover over the hillside.



Then the machine thumped down.

It made a tremendous noise.



The last I remember was the gunsight coming up to say hello.



I woke on a gurney. I hoisted my head up and looked down the coast towards Kalafrana. Where the devil was I? It looked like a field camp, but it was deserted.



"Oh 'ello, 'es awake!" said a soft voice behind me. "I told matron a spot of sunshine on your noggin might do you some good...the others went off to the cricket, but I'm not one for sport, so I said I'd stay."

I reached up with my left hand and felt the bandages on my head, and across my back. My right arm was bandaged too, it felt numb.

"Easy there...", said the voice behind me, taking my hand gently down from my bandages, speaking slowly, with a lovely Welsh lilt "You lost a lot of blood, you did, and a fair part of your right arm, but you're alive Sir. And you'll be on the next boat home," she said, "Away from this terrible heat..."

As she kept talking, I heard a siren start somewhere below...then another...and another. I lay back, and closed my eyes.

(Video of engagement below)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kZfs5QIY6qQ&feature=share&list=UUeVLEw7JToQGAHtLlVlSy8g

Cool video!

Excellent read.

Nice, thanks!

Great AAR !

Great AAR!