First fight:
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18 July 1940.
This morning, reading the flight board, I saw that I'll be, once again in patrol.
Those patrols are boring, nothing happens. But John McIntire continues saying to keep an eye open. What for?! It's always the same quiet flight:
Take off, take a heading, hide in the clouds and RTB. At least, the met. is quite good.
It's when I was watching over my right shoulder, to look at a funny cloud, that I saw them.
...Four black dots, rapidly growing. Single engines!
I scream: "109! 4 O'Clock level. They're closing in!"
"Break right, Now!" says John.
I slightly push my Yoke and, in the same time, I hardly bank my bird. I must have rolled of about 100 degres before I pull back on the yoke.
I "unscrew" my head to locate the other planes and find myself right behind one of the Emils.
I try to reduce, or at least keep, the distance but my poor Hawker is too slow.
I hear that Peter Brighton, number 3, has just shot a gerri down but now, he is in a bad position. I look for him.
"2. Break! He's behind you!" My arm and my leg instantly push on the controls and I hear the german's bullet screaming around my canopy.
After a tight split "S", I see my leader engaging the bandit. An instant later, I hear a huge explosion and John saying "I got one".
My last movement placed me Just behind and above Peter's menace but the german pilot must have seen me and, after a short burst, he dives and John calls for return and we reform the vic
On our way back, I sweat and tremble. The fight has been extremely short in time. I'm not sure to understand what happened.
The only thing that I know is that patrols aren't holidays flight and may be deadly.