It's not yet half-past seven on the morning of 24 July 1940 and already, the first Luftwaffe raid is coming west down the English Channel. Hostile 701, estimated at sixty-plus, is headed towards Westhampnett figther base, which is damaged but not yet out of action. I authorise an additional squadron scrambled against it. The raid will be met by thirty-six fighters, twelve each from 32, 72 and 602 Squadrons.



Unfortunately I get no pictures of the action. It's getting dark and I must have been hitting the wrong key, the equivalent of not taking the lens cap off my camera! Not that there's much to see - flying a Spit with 602, I go for the bombers - Heinkels - but in my anxiety to get a decent pic of my attack, I get too close to my target before opening fire, wait too long before breaking off, and collide with the Heinkel, managing to bail out.

The next raid is plotted coming in before the first one has even reached its target. Hostile 702, again sixty-plus, edges steadily north, target estimated to be North Weald airfield. Again, three squadrons are scrambled to intercept - 79, 605 and 'Treble 1' - famous post-ww2 for their aerobatic display team the Black Arrows. Many will remember the Airfix 1/72 Hawker Hunter, conveniently moulded in shiny black plastic, featuring one of their jets. In 1940, they were flying an earlier product of the Hawker Aircraft Limited - which was actually the WW1 Sopwith company, reformed to avoid crippling tax liabilities and remaned after TOM Sopwith's chief test pilot, Harry Hawker. But I digress...



When contact is made, it's with 111 Squadron that I elect to fly. At this point, we are heading roughly eastwards, with London behind us and the Thames Estuary up ahead.



Also ahead are the Huns. We are not first on the scene and the situation is not entirely tidy. What seems like two groups of bombers and a bunch of escorts are to the left, with what looks like more fighters to the right. The latter are already breaking formation. The boss gives us the order to get stuck into the fighters, so I pick the ones on the right. There are plenty for everybody!



By the time I get across there, it's apparent we are not first on the scene, for a dogfight has already developed. But there's a lot of cloud about today and when I try to join the party, everyone else seems to be disappearing into the white stuff.



I pull up into clearer blue sky, unclear if Green 2 and Green 3 will stick with me or, as the boss has ordered, picked their own targets. Up ahead are two widely-spaced 109s...



...so I try to cut off the tail-end charlie.



I get in a burst and see the flashes of some hits - BoB2 is rather good at representing bullet strikes on airframes - but he pulls up and slips out of my field of view, so I lose sight of him. Meanwhile, the dogfight is still going on nearby and several ack ack batteries are plastering the sky with black bursts.



I head back towards the nearest air fight I can see, which is in the direction of the Medway on the far side of the Thames Estuary. The area to my left is I think the Thameshaven oil terminal, famous for blazing for days after being set on fire in an early September raid during the real Battle of Britain.



After hanging about on the edge of the fighting looking for an opening, I decided to investigate more closely two aircraft engaged in single combat. At least one of them must be an enemy! You can just about see the black and white underside of what will be an RAF fighter just above the far shorline, with the 109 engaged with him above the skyline.



By the time I get close, the 109 is on the Hurricane's tail and I race to cut off the Hun before it is too late!



I get off a burst at the 109 and could yell for joy as he breaks off his attack! Saved the day and no mistake - that other Hurri was in deep trouble!



I've definitely hit the Hun, for he's leaving a thin but distinct trail of dark smoke. I hang back to see if he'll go down.



No such luck - he's clearly going to need a bit more encouragement. The 109 makes a gentle left turn, still trailing smoke. I open the throttle again and start running him down.

He levels out, now heading south, back the way he came. I come up in his blind spot, closing steadily, then let fly. You may be able to make out my first tracers reaching out to him, in the pic below.



No mistake this time! The 109 rolls left and makes a diving turn earthwards.



Got him! No chance the pilot got out, at that height. Regrettable, but a few seconds ago he would have meted out the same fate to one of our own, had I not intervened.

...to be continued!

Excellent Shots and reports Lima..Its been while since i flew BOB II. Love the size of some formations.
Your tempting me into firing the old girl up pal.

The thing is Adger I had the original Rowan's BoB and only played it occasionally, likewise I must have had BoB2 for maybe ten years and same again. This campaign is my first serious bash, having been so impressed when I at last made the effort to get into BoB2 that I got Win 7 on a second SSD so I could play without the end of mission CTDs.

Anyhow, back to the morning of 24 July 1940...I bank around the crash site of the 109 I've recently chased off another Hurricane's tail. Not much left of that one.



I double-check my tail is clear and head back northwards towards Thameshaven. It's not very clear in the pic below, but the skies over there are thick with the bursts and violent flashes of AA fire at relatively low level. This makes me wonder if this is a Stuka attack on the refineries, rather than a level bomber raid on North Weald.



Suddenly I notice a terrific AA barrage much closer, just to my left. Thinking that patch of sky must be full of Huns, I'm relieved to notice that the target looks like a single fast-moving enemy aircraft. He seems to be having little difficulty keeping ahead of the pursuing AA fire.



I turn in behind him - a solitary 109, by the cut of his jib...



...but get the angles wrong and can't catch him up. Looking for someone else to sneak up on, I see three aircraft in a loose group ahead, going away towards the Medway.



Closing quickly at full throttle on the tail-end charlie, it's not long before I can see he's a Hurricane like myself, the two ahead likewise.



Intending to join them if they're from 111, I get close enough to read the squadron codes. He's from 605, as it happens, so I take my leave, having some ammo left which I could make good use of.



The sky seems clear of Huns at my own level, but up above, the AA boys are tracking a target. It's a long shot, but worth a look. I race ahead, gently climbing as I go. I'm not quite done here, yet!



...to be continued!

After a while, a small, fast-moving speck emerges from ahead of the ack ack bursts - a single 109 homeward bound, by the look of it.



I gradually gain height while falling in behind him. Every so often, more anti-aircraft fire brackets him, or rather tries to, but he flies on unconcerned. Further ahead and to the right, I can see the gunners are also firing at someone else. I press on, wary that there are now more Huns around than I bargained for,



As the range slowly winds down, the ack ack on the right dies off, and I see three, maybe four distant specks slip over from right to left, apparently joining up with the fellow I am chasing. Not necessarily a welcome development, I tell myself. Of course Albert Ball specialised in attacking large bunches of Huns, convinced that they kept a poorer look-out when beguiled by that 'safety in numbers' thing. But I'm no Albert Ball...



So on I go, creeping up steadily from below and behind. Eventually I can make them out clearly - five Me109s, no less, three one behind the other and two more off to the right. Will I, or won't I...?



I decide that I will. I come up behind the tail end Charlie, on the left. I get in close, and aim carefully. The plan is to knock him down with the shortest possible burst, then clobber the one in front and slightly below him, before anybody knows I'm here. You know what they say, a bad plan is better than no plan at all.



Got him! the Hun slips down and to the left, trailing smoke.



I avoid a temptation to make sure of him and stick to my plan. My next target and the other 109s have not reacted. Time to get the next one.



I hit him from very close range. There's a sudden gout of dark smoke and some flying debris and I break upwards in a sudden fright, suddenly afraid of running into him. But he's disappeared somewhere, into the cloud. Or did he blow up?



Recovering my composure, I see the other three 1ois have not reacted, so I come in again for what I tell myself will be my last pass. Same again - close to point-blank range so a single burst will do the job.



I close in rapidly until the next 109 fills my windscreen and I press the gun button. Nothing happens. Not a round is fired. I push down to avoid popping up in front of my former quarry, who would doubtless get over his surprise quite quickly.



I break hard right and away, but the Huns don't react' Either they need their remaining patrol to get home, or are locked into 'go home' more, or maybe a combination of both. Anyway, two 'Probables' plus the earlier 'Destroyed' will do nicely. I'm turning into quite a little Messerschmitt killer, I tell myself smugly.



Taking advantage of the cloud cover I head back north. Base is about forty miles away and I don't want to miss another contact for the sake of a long flight home.



So I quit and return to the Ops Room. Just in time to see that there are other raids have come in further to the west while I've been occupied east of London. Time to get busy again!

Nice reports 33lima.

S!Blade<><

Thanks Blade. I think my SSD has defected to the Luftwaffe tho, for it died yesterday, taking this campaign (and my Win 7 installation) with it. It seems you can power it on for 30 min without the SATA cable, power off for 30 sec, repeat that on-off cycle again, then it may come back to life. Because they can sometimes be clobbered by a sudden power down, which I got. If that doesn't work, I will be in the market for another SSD (and this time I will keep the receipt!) and in for another tedious installation of Win 7, drivers etc, Which will not save the campaign, so I'm hoping the power cycling trick might work.

Sorry to hear that 33lima. Hope it works out for you. Can't you just copy your BOB II folder and any personal save folders, maybe in my documents or saved games folder, to your Windows 10 SSD or HDD? Then when you get your new SSD and install Win 7 and hardware drivers all you will have to do is copy these same folders to the new SSD and make a new short cut from the BOB II .exe onto your desktop and everything should work. No installation of BOB II is required as Win 7 will make all the registry keys magically. I have done this in the past and it worked for me just fine. Hope this helps maybe.

S!Blade<><

Hi Blade - the SSD that stopped working - not picked up in the BIOS, or in Windows explorer (now running from Win 10, on my original SSD) had Win 7 and my main BoB2 install on it. Nothing can be accessed on it including the saved campaigns, which are stored in the SAVEGAME folder in the BoB installation folder. Until I get Win 7 back up and running all I can do is play individual missions in Win 10 using my original BoB2 install, with a CTD (so no debrief/stats) when I exit. Or I can play a fresh campaign, but only from the map, as campaign missions often crash.

Happily there are lots of individual missions and many of them can be played from several units on both sides - like gunners in this KG55 Heinkel on the Bristol Filton raid, which can be played from any of about a hundred aircraft involved, bombers, escorts or interceptors. So even in Windows 10, there's plenty to do in BoB2 (sounds like an advertising jingle!).

View from the bombardier/nose gunner's station on the run in to the target, in the right rear aircraft of one of the three groups of about fifteen Heinkels…



My aircraft from the outside, showing individual markings on each plane and authentic unit codes and emblem...



My aircraft from the front, as the guns defending the target throw up a barrage...



Bomb bay doors starting to open...it'll be 'Bomb-en auf En-g-land' any moment now...



Turning for home after bombing. The next group of Heinkels is lining up on the target, while in between them and us, our escorts have cut across and intercepted some RAF fighters...



Just when I thought we had got away with it, a couple of stray fighters latched onto us from behind. I shot off the first two or three, but the last attacker wounded two air gunners and damaged an engine, causing us to fall behind the formation. It didn't help morale that the Messerschmitt 110s flew past on their way home, without pausing. At least by that time. the attacks had stopped and we were not losing height, so had a fair chance of making it home.



Normal campaign service will be resumed when I get Windows 7 up and running again, one way or another!

The gap in reports is not due to loss of interest or of opportunity, but to the demise of the SSD on which I had Win 7 and BoB2. Both have been replaced and if a few days play on BoB2 prove stable, reports will resume, probably starting at the second 'airfields' stage rather than with those bleeping convoys again! Watch this space and sorry for the break in service.

In short, I got clobbered...



...but hope to be back up there clobbering the Huns again soon...

Something - a sudden power failure perhaps - killed the SSD I had obtained specifically to run Battle of Britain II in Windows 7, rather than 10. A bit of a shock, this was. But the 4 months or so of stable gamplay it provided, in what I'd come to appreciate as one of the very best sims I'd ever experienced, gave me the confidence - and a strong incentive - to start afresh.

Well, not quite afresh. Having lost my saved RAF campaign, I decided to re-start not at the beginning, but at the Battle's second phase, from mid-August 1940, when the Luftwaffe switched from attacking mainly Channel convoys to hitting the RAF. 'Eagle Attack', BoB2 calls if, after the original German Adlerangriff. Which is apparently where German rather than British writers reckon the Battle started. Those who concede that there was such a thing as the Battle of Britian, that is. One who apparently didn't, or had second thoughts, was the famous German ace Adolph Galland. His role is recounted in Leonard Mosley's 1969 'making of' book of the movie.



Galland, he says, "...made it clear when he was first approached to be a consultant on the film that he didn't believe that there was such a thing as the Battle of Britain, from which it followed that Germany certainly hadn't lost it. 'All that happened', he said to Ben Fisz [co-producer and WW2 RAF fighter pilot] during their first conversation in Bonn, Germany, 'was that we made a number of attacks against England between July and September. Then we discovered that we were not having the desired effect, so we retired'. Fisz regarded him with a bland smile. 'Dear General Galland,' he said. 'have you ever been to a boxing match?' When Galland nodded, he went on: 'You know what happens when, in the tenth round, one fighter is groggy on his feet and his trainer, he leans over and throws in the towel and shouts: 'My fighter retires!'? Who has won the fight, general, and who has lost it?"

But I digress. Having started a fresh campaign on 12th August, here's the situation I was faced with shortly after ten a.m., as the first raids of the day are plotted, coming across from the Pas de Calais.



Hostile 001 is a hundred-plus, and Hostile 901 is thirty-plus. Four defending squadrons have been scrambled by the campaign AI, two against each raid. I should perhaps have intervened to throw another couple at the Huns but they were coming across the narrowest part of the Channel and there wasn't a heck of a lot of time for fancy plans.

The Spitfires of 266 Squadron (as any fan of Biggles will know, that was his Camel squadron in WW1!) are first to sight the enemy. I accept the offer to fly with them, choosing as usual to fly at the head of Green Section. This is me and Green 2, out on the right of the squadron formation. We are roughly south of the port of Dover, some of whose white cliffs are visible, heading straight for Hostile 901.



And there they are!



After about a week unable to play the BoB2 campaign, I was rather glad to see once more that familiar but always thrilling sight! The question now is, what exactly am I going to do about it?

...to be continued!

A glance left and right shows no sign of the other attackers and defenders I know aren’t too far away. Up ahead, the picture up ahead is full of aircraft but somewhat confusing. What looks like two groups of bombers are advancing, high and slightly right, but a third, seen beyond my armoured glass windshield, has turned left. Between them, some contrails indicate the presence of smaller aircraft – a fighter escort. They appear to be curving away from us. I hit padlock and then the keys R-3-1, you tend to memorise these sequences, some of which have hotkeys – to report the sighting to the boss. I hear myself reporting fighters and bombers using the appropriate clock code.



The CO orders us to get stuck in. By this time I’m climbing hard in the general direction of the Huns, with the bombers in clear sight but having lost track of the fighters, which are no longer contrailing. As I watch, the two right-hand groups of bombers – Heinkels, I can now see - make a sharp change of course, as if intending to join the third group over on my left. We can hardly have frightened them off. They must have just bombed Dover, darn it – I hadn’t realised they were close enough to the coast!



The bombers are well above us and I can see at once that they will be well on their way home by the time we catch them.



The escorts I'd lost sight of have already come around and down and are attacking some of our boys, to Green Section’s left rear.



Over to my right, another RAF squadron is climbing hard towards the bombers. Beyond them is an ominous sight - two distinct groups of small aircraft, contrailing and closing in diagonally. Too many to be our boys - more escorts, sweeping the skies around the bombers! This isn't looking good!



As I watch, the nearest group begins peeling off. 'Fighters! Coming down - now! - that line in the Battle of Britain film, from the scene in which Michael Caine gets the chop, runs through my mind.



I break in the opposite direction, planning to come around behind them rather than cut directly into them. Meanwhile, the three groups of bombers, one well ahead of the rest, proceed entirely unmolested back to the French coast, a short hop the other side of the Straits of Dover.



The 109s - for that's what they are - have slpit up by the time I come around, and are engaging the friendly squadron which was chasing the bombers. I have the unsettling feeling that I'm making a bit of a mess of this one.



By the time I arrive in position, there is little to see. Where did everybody go? Green 2 and 3 are no-where to be seen. I end up chasing a solitary 109 - at least, I think he's a 109. He ends up running after the bombers. Maybe he's a Spitfire?



I am relieved of this dilemma when I spot two other fighters in a duel. On the basis that there’s a 50:50 chance that the one being chased is one of our boys in need of urgent help, I join the party.



Sure enough, it’s a 109 chasing a Spitfire and I get the pleasure of shooting an enemy off a friend’s tail – for me, one of the most satisfying things in any combat flight sim. The Hun breaks off the chase and I go after him.



After a short pursuit with the hunter/hunted roles reversed, I see the flash of bullets hitting airframe (BoB2 reproduces this effect particularly well). The Hun pulls up and right, trailing smoke. Meanwhile, the airwaves are full of the usual R/T chatter, indicating I'm not the only one in the squadron who's having a scrap.



After another attack, down he goes! Finished or not, I don’t follow him down; there are too many other aircraft in the vicinity, including Huns who would be more than happy to even the score.



I clear my tail and take stock. To the south, the retreating bombers are still being harried. I realised later that I had not re-set BoB2 (a simple Wordpad edit in bob.txt) so that the RAF would not chase over enemy-held territory. I chase the bombers for a while, but after asking the others where they are and finding them reporting their location back north, I turn around, back towards England.



As it happens, there is still plenty of 'trade' on our side of the Channel, which I will shortly find out.

...to be continued!

On my way back to Dear Old Blighty, I find myself slowly overhauling another aeroplane. The nice thing about Hurricanes, I find, is that their relative lack of dihedral makes them relatively easy to identify in this sort of situation.
From his codes, you can see he is from 501 Squadron, sadly famous for having no less than four of their aircraft shot down during about two hectic minutes on 18 August, by III/JG51's Gerhard Schoepfel.



Leaving the Hurricane behind and arriving back over the coast reveals another confusing picture. There's plenty going on, but too far away for me to make out what's actually happening.
Three strings of aircraft are moving across my nose from left to right. The sky ahead of the left-hand group is filled with the black bursts of Ack Ack fire. I swing cautiously to starboard, conscious that if all of these people are Huns, I could be flying into big trouble.



As I watch, the leading group of what I take to be more 109s runs in to what looks th be a depleted RAF squadron heading home. The first 109s peel off, generally a sure sign of aggressive intentions.



By now, I have arrived in the vicinity of Ack Ack fire which is now over the coast. Again, I spot a duel going on, a Spit against a 109 by the look of it. But as I approach the 109 rolls over and dives out of it.



Reluctant to lose height to follow him down, I look around for easier prey, but all I can see is a distant Spitfire coming inland while another distant fighter wheels over the coast amidst a cloud of Ack Ack bursts.



Further east, some of the retreating 109s I saw earlier are heading south towards France.



Further west, roughly over the port of Folkestone, more anti-aircraft fire indicates the presence of more enemy aircraft.



Uncertain what to do for the best, I drift that way for a bit, contemplating cutting off the withdrawal of whatever it is the air defence chaps are firing at. But somebody else had beaten me to it, and an air fight is already under way with the first victims falling away trailing smoke.



By this time, I am over Dover. The smoke down there has cleared but two large areas of rubble in the harbour area show that Hostile 901 has done what it came here to do.



Looking back left, the gunners are having a long range pop at the retreating escorts, and seem to have hit one of them, to boot.



My last rounds of the day are fired at a 109 which crosses my path while diving away from a Hurricane.



Happily, I identify this fellow as another Spitfire, before firing at him.



At that point I decide that enough was enough and set course for home. Clearly, my return to virtual combat in BoB2 just wasn't destined for great things. But the main thing is, I'm back in action!



This is how the Hostiles List looked as my intercepting squadrons were on their way home. Stukas - which I never even saw, that I know of - have bombed and damaged Dover radar (Chain Home) station, while the Heinkels I saw clobbered Dover. Over eighty 109s were in the air, some at least operating as a covering fighter sweep rather than as close escorts.



I need to check some stats in other info boxes to get a clearer picture (within the fog of war) of the morning's actions, but it was hectic enough while it lasted and I'm hoping to be a bit more decisive on the next mission I jump into.

Great report 33lima. It is good to see you back into the fight Sir!

S!Blade<><

It's now lunchtime on 12th August. I decide to have a look at the fortunes of the squadron I'd just flown with, 266. So I pop open the Squadron Diary. It's not a pretty picture.



In action against over sixty aircraft including three dozen 109s, we have lost eight Spitfires and five pilots, for no appreciable result! Lesson learnt - next time, in this situation, make more of an effort to stay with the squadron.

I'll have to wait a bit though. Two more raids are plotted coming in, at opposite ends of the English Channel. One seems headed for the port of Plymouth, the other for another port, Dover, way to the east.



I authorise additional squadrons scrambled against the Dover raid, letting the campaign AI fight out the interception further west. But my chance to fly never comes. For some reason, instead of putting up fighters from the nearby coastal airfields at Lympne and Hawkinge, the four squadrons scrambled come down from airfields around London. By the time they reach Dover, the raid, crossing the narrowest part of the Channel, has bombed Dover and is on its way home. Dover RDF station has also been hard hit.

Seeing that nobody is going to make contact before the Huns reach the French coast, I order all four squadrons to return to base, so they can resume readiness ASAP. Lesson learnt - for such raids, intervene to ensure closer squadrons are tasked. And when the third, evening phase comes, I change the default directive to add coastal patrols.

Time auto-fast forwards. Just as I'm beginning to think the day is going to end without further incident, more raids are detected. The enemy seems intent on repeating his earlier success, with two widely-spaced prongs hitting Plymouth and Dover Chain Home/RDF station. At Plymouth, 87 Squadron intercepts the sixty-plus Heinkels of Hostile 951, while 92 rushes down from Pembrey in south Wales. Remembering what happened last time, I'm concentrating on Dover, where three squadrons are tasked to intercept, with only 54 showing as taking off in the pic below. Fortunately Hostile 952, reported as sixty-plus Stukas, is still on the far side of the Straits of Dover.



This time, my improved dispositions perform no better and 65 'East India' Squadron - its Spitfires marked with the name of the Colony which contributed patriotically for their purchase - sights the oncoming Huns while they are on their way back across the Channel. As usual I've opted to fly as Green 1 - I'm postponing my plan to assume flight leader status until I have got a bit more practice, after my recent enforced lay-off. By this time, the sun is already well down in the West...



...while the Huns are up ahead to the south, in what looks to be two groups of fighters and some distant bombers, lower down. I call them up and the boss orders B Flight to take the fighters while the rest tackle the Stukas.



This is the position at that point, seen from the in-flight map. The other two intercepting squadrons, in compact vic formation and thus displayed as single roundels, are a long way back and seem likely to miss the party altogether.



I push the throttle fully forward and begin a shallow climb, watching the nearest group of Huns grow bigger and begin to split up, threateningly.



But at this very moment, I clearly hear the CO order the squadron to reform. There's only one squadron on this frequency (as in the real Battle) so that means me. I hesitate before remembering the lesson from earlier - stick with the squadron. So watching my tail warily for those 109s, I turn north and head after the boys, who look to be heading home. We're not short of fuel. But I have enabled the BoB2 option for the RAF not to pursue over France, from which we were only a few miles away when the order came.



Behind me, the Huns, too are homeward bound, three groups of bombers plus the two of presumed fighters. At least they accomplished their mission!



But I'm not quite done yet. I'm about to get one more opportunity to fly today. Will I have any better success?

...to be continued!

Just to digress for a bit…having flown a virtual 65 Squadron Spitfire in the last mission, for upcoming holiday reading, I just picked up this book, the story of a real-life pilot who did the real thing, in the real battle, with a real Spitfire in the real 65 Squadron.



Gordon Olive was an RAAF pilot who transferred to the RAF on a Short Service Commission in 1937 and flew on ops with 65 Squadron from the Dunkirk air battles to the end of the Battle of Britain and beyond, to December 1940. During July and August, he was in the thick of it, with 11 Group. He later spent some time as a Controller, directing fighters, and during the Blitz, in the newly-formed 456 Squadron, RAAF, in the night-fighter role, operating briefly Defiants then Beaufighters. So ‘Spitfire Ace’ will cover quite a bit of different ground, all under one cover.

This recent book was assembled from Gordon’s own writings and is considerably enhanced by the inclusion of numerous watercolours Gordon painted, starting soon after the War, illustrating the actions he describes. Scenes depicted include being bombed while taking off from Manston and intercepting some very large raids. Gordon’s painted Spitfires and Hurricanes have Sky spinners and fuselage bands, not seen until slightly after the Battle’s ‘official’ July-October timeframe. But for all that, they provide vivid depictions of the sheer scale of many raids - all the more so from being painted from his own memories of the actual events. More to the point of this thread, they could be watercolour versions of many a screenshot from Rowan’s Battle of Britain or its illustrious successor ‘BoB2’ - but from no other sim. There could hardly be more striking evidence than these paintings, that BoB/BoB2 are the simulators which portray the crux of the Battle of Britain experience so very closely to the way that the actual participants saw it. A time machine, the BoB/BoB2 old hands call it, and looking at these paintings, I see again why they say so.

Stepping back into that time machine to the evening of 12 August 1940, I accept a second offer to fly, this time with the Spits of ‘Sailor’ Malan’s 74 Squadron (supposedly, the BoB film character played by Robert Shaw was based on Malan). By this time, I’m aware that the raid is well on the way home, so I’m half-expecting to be recalled again without engaging the enemy. But there’s no harm in trying.

Up ahead, I see the retreating raid from a different angle to my last view of it with 65. They look to be over the coast of France. So I'm not surprised when, as before, the boss orders the squadron to cancel the engagement.



Their turn for home leaves me briefly still flying after the raid, while the others are regrouping over to my right, headed back the way we came.



The Huns are a long way off and I have no hesitation this time in turning back to rejoin the squadron. For a while, I chase after some single-engined fighters which seem to be shadowing the others. Could they be 109s, trying to catch us out? I doubt it, but better safe than sorry.



The unidentified fighters out front start turning right and as I turn after them, I get a better look.



Eliptical wings, so definitely Spitfires.



Only Heinkel 70s and 112s had those, and there are none of these here – nor Heinkel 113s (real designation Heinkel 100), although the latter were included in recognition guides and possibly for that reason, regularly mis-reported over Britain by RAF pilots in 1940.



I follow the other Spits around, thinking to go with them if they have decided after all to resume the chase. But they come back onto their original course, north for home. Perhaps I spooked them, coming up from behind, and they were just clearing their tails.



I close up and see they are definitely from a different squadron - in fact their YT squadron codes show these two to be from 65, the squadron I flew with last time! I fly with them again for a while, a sad cuckoo in their nest, disappointed at successive failures to get to grips with raids slipping the short way across the Channel to make damaging hit-and-run raids on Dover and its environs.



Another change of tactics is clearly called for here! I make a mental note to find out what the heck is happening, or not happening, at the nearby airfields of Lympne and Hawkinge. There should be fighters at both and while they would have to climb hard, they ought to be able to intercept such raids, or at least scrambled to do so. Diverting patrols or relying on fighters coming down from the London area just isn’t working.



Here’s the Review info box showing claims and losses so far in the Battle – and it’s not a good picture. I’ll need to do better than this, starting at once.



The short end-of-day summary tells me that the Luftwaffe is increasing the ratio of escorts to bombers, resulting in smaller formations of the latter. Is this a sign the Huns are not having it all their own way, either? I hope so!

Back at the Ops Room, the time is around 09:30 on 13th August, and the first raid of the day, Hostile 901, is plotted heading towards the Isle of Wight. Over to the east, patrols in 12-aircraft squadron strength are assembling on my orders, in the hope of avoiding another nasty surprise in the Dover area. I have also ordered two squadrons from further north to relocate south, to the coastal airfields at Lympme and Hawkinge. On checking, to my surprise, I had found them unoccupied. Perhaps the campaign AI's logic is that fighters based there, so close to enemy-occupied France, are liable to be caught on the ground -better Dover gets bombed than that happens. Lesser of two evils, and all that. In moving fighers down there, perhaps I am just sticking my head into the lion's jaws. But we shall see.



I authorise two extra squadrons to intercept Hostile 901, which is achieved with a trio of mouse-clicks. Two, including 152, come across from Warmwell to the west, while 238 comes down from Middle Wallop. All are from No.10 Group, covering the south-west. I haven't flown with 238 before I think, so when they make contact, I accept the offer to fly with them. At the moment, I still have things set not to be offered a flight prior to take off, but I might change that if I get bored with air starts. At the moment, though, boredom in any shape or form is not a concern!

Here we are, at the point we have sighted the raiders. I'm flying VK-L, leading B Flight's Green Section, as usual.



The Huns look to comprise three groups of bombers and two of escorts. They are flying diagonally across our noses from left to right, towards the coast, target unknown.



The drill is by now automatic - toggle on padlock and hit R-3-1 to report the sighting. At the same time I start to 'increase Angels', in the R/T lanugage of the time. The boss acknowledges and quickly gives his orders - you can see the text display for the second part of his transmission at the bottom of the pic.



By the way, if you ever want to know what communications between Controllers and Fighter Leaders really sounded like, the best source I've heard for that is the 1952 film 'Angels One Five'. An actor playing a fighter controller was reportedly in that very role at Hornchurch during the Battle. While the dialogue (and the plot!) get a tad corny towards the end, the radio voice procedure seems to be spot on.

Usually by now, the nearest formation of escorts would be dissolving aggressively as it comes our way. This time, however, the whole shooting gallery maintains its course.



True to my orders, I lead Green Section against the 109s, who don't seem to have seen us coming. This makes a pleasant change!



I take my time and curve in behind the nearest Messerschmitt, then let him have it. As I'm doing this, someone else I've missed in the excitement is letting me have it - you can see his tracers flying past, above my cockpit.



Concentrating on making sure of my intended victim, I break off reluctantly, by which time it is nearly too late. Metallic clunks indicate the Hun behind has corrected his aim. Down and right I go, wondering what Green 2 and 3 are up to, as the Hun flashes past behind, unseen.



The nearest bunch of 109s has at last woken up and reacted to our presence. Two aircraft are already trailing smoke - the Hun I hit, hopefully now going down, and my own Hurricane, hopefully not now going down.



Clearing my tail with a tight vertically-banked turn, I pop the canopy open in case I have to get out. But though visibly hit and with my motor running rough, we seem to be still in business. Feeling a bit sheepish, I close the canpoy, complete a near circle and come in around and behind the bombers. They seem to be already under attack and the second bunch of 109s is now also breaking formation to deal with these attackers.



I can't make out where the rest of the squadron is, or what happened to the first group of 109s. So I decide to allow myself the luxury of a solo run at the bombers, which is what I am best placed to do at that point.



Swinging in behind them, I get a shock when a flock of blue-bellied fighters cuts down and across. Seeing the colour before the shape, first reaction is that they're 109s, but those elliptical wings quickly enable me to correct my identification. Still, the beggars nearly ran into me! And I do wish the shortage of the new Sky undersurface paint hadn't resulted in some people using a distinctly Hunnish colour!



Undaunted, I hold my course. There'll be ample time to be a team player later. For now, I want to nail one of those bombers, before they drop their eggs!



...to be continued!

I join the Spits in getting stuck into the bombers, which are obviously Heinkels. For my own target, I take the fellow on the right of the nearest bunch. This time, there isn't a 109 trying to warm my backside with his cannon, and I get many hits on the bomber. But take rather a lot in return.



I keep shooting right up to the instant the Heinkel begins to bank right, out of formation. I get hit some more. These air gunners seem above average, unfortunately.



I don't so much break away as fall out of the sky, barely under control and engine faltering.



It's clear there's no question this time of returning to the fray. I bring my kite's wings level and let her fall away, praying that the 109s rate my chances no better than I do.



I start north across the Solent, the body of water between the Isle of Wight on the left and the mainland, on the right. Fearing the worst I slide back the canopy again, ready to hit the silk while I still have the height for it.



Left and above, Spitfires are going for the other groups of bombers.



I rack my brains trying to remember where the nearest airfield is. But my rate of descent soon rules out any option but a forced landing somewhere close to hand. Below and right, I see a large grassy area, slipping below my tattered upper wing. Incidentally I don't know why that damage isn't visible in the earlier pics, unless I got shot again and didn't notice!



I suspect this damage is linked to my control problems. So when I turn back over the Solent, back towards the Isle of Wight, I bank left, away from my damaged wing, treating it like a dead engine on a twin-engined aircraft. Meanwhile I can see signs that the air fighting is still going on, not far away.



My rate of descent increases rather alarmingly as I turn harder to get lined up on that grassy area. It looks like an airfield, but there are no structures. I learn later that this is the Osborne estate, a favourite haunt of Queen Victoria, no less. It'll be a favourite of mine if I can get down there safely. Happily my hydraulics are working and the undercart drops and locks without further drama. I begin to not regret bailing out while I could.



I level off for my approach and throttle back. This is when it all goes pear-shaped. My kite drops its right wing and rolls right, away from the grassland. It's like what torque my damaged motor has been generating is the only thing that kept that damaged wing level. By the time I've recovered, I'm heading the wrong way and too fearful of another loss of control to try another turn, at this height. A forced landing straight ahead is my only option, so I raise my landing gear again. It's all I can do to keep the wings level, and I can't stop her sinking at an alarming rate.



I hit the ground and the camera switches to a zoomed-out view of my kite somersaulting while losing bits of a wing. As Douglas Bader noted in his logbook entry for the Gloster Gauntlet crash which cost him his legs, 'Bad Show.'



Meanwhile, a second raid has crept across the Channel and done its work, while the squadrons scrambled to intercept are still rushing down from the London area. I doubt any will catch the raid.



I can only hope that the two squadrons I have ordered down to Hawkinge and Lympne will be in position by the time Jerry tries that one again. At least my Hurricane sortie produced two 'Probables'. Better than nothing - but not by very much!

After a short break in the real world, the Battle of Britain II 'time machine' has transported me back to the morning of August 13, 1940. As soon as I load my saved campaign game and see the Ops Room map, I'm offered a chance to fly with 234 Squadron. It's one of three intercepting the sixty-plus Bandits of Hostile 901 over the Isle of Wight. This raid's possible targets include major ports and radar stations; airfields too, though these are thinner on the ground than further east, in 11 Group's area of operations.

This, I later realise, is a case of 'deja vu, all over again' as it duplicates the position at the start of my last flight. Looks like I didn't save my game after quitting, but anyway...

A couple of mouse clicks later and I'm in the cockpit of a Spitfire coded SN-K, leading Green Section on the right of the squadron formation of twelve. Up ahead, I can see what looks to be three groups of about ten bombers each, with three squadrons of what must be the fighter escort, above them. To the left of this bunch, what can only be a fellow RAF fighter squadron has spread out and is streaming in to attack the horde of oncoming Huns.



The map below shows relative positions at this stage. The enemy are heading roughly east, towards the hinterland of the coastal towns of Bournemouth and Poole. But the wily Hun isn't going to give his targets away just so easily, as I will soon find out.



As I nearly always do, rather than wait for the boss to react (which he will) I padlock the enemy and use BoB2's command menu to report the raid. To give myself some leg room, I edge Green Section up from the rest of 234, who are also beginning to react. Incidentally, this looks to be a very rare case of BoB2 getting its squadron codes wrong, as it seems SN was used by 243 not 234, the former flying Spits in the Far East and the Med, not in the Battle of Britain. Be that as it may...



Things are now happening very quickly. Before the boss has even finished acknowledging my report, the Huns begin turning north towards us, running straight into the nearest RAF fighters as they do so.



The enemy horde is now closing rapidly and I throttle back, anxious not to run into them until the boss has completed his attack orders. Not everybody is so reticent.



By the time I hear the CO confirming that we in 'B' Flight are to go for the fighters, it's become too late, and I plough smack into the oncoming Heinkels. And a bunch of Hurricanes who are merrily attacking them from astern.



I have to make a split second decision on evasive action. I decide to take none, thinking I'm just as likely to cause a collision as avoid one. A good move, as it turns out, for a few seconds later I'm curving around after the Huns, quite undamaged and looking for one of the fighters I'm supposed to be tackling.



A bit of a ropey start, this, but at least I'm still in business.

...to be continued!

Hunting for 109s, I first latch onto this fellow, who is chasing a Spitfire, currently out of camera shot. Before I can get close enough, another Spit slips in ahead of me and sends the 109 diving away, smoking.



I have lost a bit of height and pull up again in a turn to the left. By this time, the Heinkels are under atatck from both Spits and Hurricanes.



Suddenly, a Spit flashes down and across my nose, chased by a Messerschmitt. I cut in after the Hun, who is too far away for effective shooting. Before I can get close, the 109 lets fly and there's a flurry of hits visible on the Spit. #%&*$# and blast!



Fearful that I have already left it too late, I let fly, still too far out but hoping to scare off the 109. Happily, this works and I follow the Hun as he breaks away. Don't ask me how I got into this attitude relative to the 109; I know it's the done thing to keep what today would be called your lift vector aligned with a manouevring target's, not be upside-down while he's right-way-up.



For the second time, another RAF figher, closer to the Hun, nips in ahead of me and sends him diving away. So back up after the raid I come, wary of the gaggle of fighters, friend and foe, still ploughing along in the bombers' wake.



Soon, I'm closing on the Heinkels again, not holding a straight course for more than a few seconds. A 109 is going down to my left. Directly ahead, a Hurricane has levelled out and looks intent on coming up underneath the Heinkels. I decide that if nothing else happens, I'll join him in a pass at the bombers, before going looking for Messerschmitts again. By now, we are over the Solent, the body of water between the Isle of Wight and the mainland, heading roughly north, towards the major port of Southampton.



Suddenly, tracers flash past above me, towards the Hurricane, who dives away smoking. I chop the throttle and, as intended, the 109 who shot him up overshoots, just to my right.



And the same scene from the external view...



I open the throttle again and slide in after the Hun. However, for the third time, another Spitfire gets there first and sends the 109 down. Teamwork, eh? You can just about see the Hun's thin, pale grey smoke trail cutting my reflector sight disc at about nine o'clock, with the Spit in a left bank after him, just above the trail and slightly outside the sight disc.



Using the speed built up diving, I pull up again and find myself much closer to the bombers, again with a Hurricane in the queue ahead of me.



I pass the Hurricane as he opens fire. Incidentally, having just finished Gordon Olive's 'Spitfire Ace', I see the 65 Sqn pilot is quite clear RAF fighters didn't use tracers, notwithstanding gun camera footage from the time showing smoke trails (whether these were left by what were technically tracer rounds, or indendiary ones whose burning element left such a trace). At any rate, Gordon says the only sign of firing was brown smoke trailing behind the RAF fighter. By contrast, he says (and his vivid post-war paintings portray) German fighter and bomber tracers leaving prominent criss-cross lines in the sky. What Gordon may have meant is that the Luftwaffe used ammo which left prominent smoke trails, the RAF ammo which didn't, by comparison anyway.



To stay out of the Hurricane's line of fire, I edge out to the left and lay into the Heinkel on that side of the nearest formation. Subtlety not being my strong suit, I simply close right on in, aiming between a wing root and the engine on that side and firing short bursts every time the sight picture looks right. Once I'm committed, I will ignore hits from return fire. Which I duly take, but not before the bomber has begun to lurch out of formation, to the right. Notice another Spit siding away from an attack of its own. Below and ahead is Southampton, on a direct course for being bombed.



I roll left and away, but not before taking a hit which damages my armoured glass windscreen. For a few seconds more, I'll remain in range of the Hun air gunners, still doing their best to kill me. I can only bite my lip and hope it doesn't get any worse, before I get clear.



...to be continued!

Finally out of bomber gunner range and still more or less intact, I bank right to clear my tail and to enjoy watching my victim go down. Instead, the Heinkel I have shot out of formation is curving away to the right, leaving no smoke trail, apparently maintaining altutude and soon to be on his way home. Not so good.



I decide to take a chance with those nasty air gunners again, rather than leave the enemy formation for a straggler. Southampton is about to be clobbered and trying to prevent another Heinkel from bombing is more important than racking up a kill.



This time, I slide across to the far right of the bombers and go for one on that side. I close at an angle, not so much in the hope of making a harder target of myself, more so I can see him past my damaged windscreen, until I'm ready to try to line him up.



When I do let fly, I can barely see what effect it's having. So I break up and away early, to avoid a collision and hoping for the best. The fact I'm also taking more hits from these nasty Nazi air gunners is also a factor. I don't think I did my target much harm...



... and for that poor return, I remain under fire as I pull up above the Huns. You can see the grey 'pencil lines' of their tracers where they cross the water, and this is almost exactly how these appear in Gordon Olive's paintings of the big air battles of August & Sepemper 1940.



My trusty Merlin seems to be running normally but my kite doesn't want to fly level. I certainly don't want to tangle with fighters in this condition, but I decide a straggler would now do nicely, after all. I turn south-east and start following a promising smoke trail that's heading back across the Channel to France.



Unseen behind me, the raid is under Ack Ack fire and has begun to turn. Which likely means they have just bombed and are turning for home.



Second later, their bombs burst on and around Southampton's docks. It looks like a pretty tight pattern; these Huns can bomb as well as they shoot.



Over to the right, the ground gunners are also engaging some distant stragglers. My chosen one I keep slightly to my left, so I can keep him in view.



As the range comes down, I bank left, then right to level off, and start shooting.



I see what could be bombs being jettisoned, falling away from the stricken Heinkel. But I soon realise that it's the crew bailing out. Got him!



Behind me, however, a dark cloud of smoke lies over the burning dock installations.



The only other aircraft I can now see around me are the other stragglers to my right, some still drawing Ack Ack fire. As you can see, my Spit seems to have collected rounds in the starboard upper wing and in her tail fin.



Time to go home! By this point in proceedings, I have already heard the boss calling his brood to reform. I make an enquiry on the R/T as to their whereabouts, and the CO confirms they are headed back west, towards our base at Warmwell. My machine is still controllable and I don't feel the need to prove anything by making the long-ish return flight and land, so I quit back to the Ops Room 'wargame' mode there and then.



Once there, a quick look at the Hostiles List shows that Hostile 901 - its split-off escorts now being tracked as Hostile 903 - have critically damaged Southampton docks. How bad that will be in an air campaign remains to be seen. Perhaps more worrying, having enjoyed the attentions of Hostile 902's Stukas, Dover Chain Home/Radio Direction Finding/radar station remains damaged, but less seriously.



You can see that I have called up the '?' help function for the Hostiles List, which explains what the various columns in this report signify. There's a 'fog of war' effect so sightings, claims and losses etc will not always be accurate, and some figures aren't updated till later eg your squadrons have landed and are 'complete' again.

Anyhow it's great to be getting back into the swing of things in BoB2. I remain convinced that it is - by a long margin - still the very best single player representation of the Battle of Britain of any currently available. Comparing to many participant memoirs, it's uncannily like BoB2 was designed by people who were there, and who had supplemented their first-hand knowledge by thoroughly researching everything from radio voice procedure to camouflage and markings to battlefield locations. Overall, BoB2 is not surpassed by any other SP of any genre I have ever player. Uncanny.

So expect campaign reports to continue, win or lose. We're not done here yet, and this is just one of four distinct campaigns available (commander and pilot, RAF or Luftwaffe), not including the separate Battle of France user-made one and not to mention the excellent selection of historical and training missions. Plus I have barely skimmed the additional experiences available from flying as a flight or squadron leader, or from take-off to landing rather than just jumping into air fights about to kick off. Classic sim stuff!