Day 3 since posting here to Six Ten squadron. Most of the chaps seem so eager to fight. I want to do my duty sure enough, but I want to live. I'm going about everything in life with that outcome in mind. Jerry is clearly paying much of his attention to shipping. Convoys named Arena, Bread, Midget have been taking it on the chin. A dozen or more ships were sunk yesterday in one raid alone. The ports will be ghost towns soon. I scored my second victory this morning. Damned strange thing. I was behind and high on a bf109. I fired a long burst but saw no hits on my target. The German curled left and downward rather agressively. I struggled to follow him and I wondered how the hell he was diving and turning so swiftly without blacking out. As he dropped from the sky I continued to follow. My engine lost the flow of fuel and began to spit and cough. Carberated rubbish! I didnt realize the pilot had been killed in my initial attack until he rolled over on his back and corkscrewed straight into the ground. I god damned almost smashed into the ground myself. Imagine it. Lured into the ground by a dead man. A horrid ending I should think. But it was not my ending thank goodness. It's dark and raining now. Everyone made it home. Dinner was splendid tonight.
