Folks,

I have climbed the tallest tree and scanned the horizon. I came down much faster than I went up. The first bounce took the breath out of me. Still there is nary a sign of Old Dux. Perhaps the Loch Ness Monster et him? Wait, that would be in Scotland. Could that happen elsewhere? I agree that is unlikely unless there has been even more rain than anyone expected. Possibly he went in surfing and his tube sustained an unfortunate puncture? Perhaps he got on his smurfboard backwards and he is now just landing on the coast of France? Someone watch all the pubs. We'll hear from him soon. When he arrives he will no doubt take notice that we have sustained over 15,000 hits. At the end of June the total was 12,400 so this isn't too bad at all. We appreciate every one.

It is also about time we heard from Grief1 once again. Here then, freshly brought forth from the dank and dangerous caverns that contain our HWH archives, is a most enjoyable opportunity to travel back in time to 1940 as we've crossed "Just Over the English Coast"...

Just Over the English Coast
By Greif1
Original HWH
Page 6
6/22/01

Combat Diary 14 Aug 40

We are flying 800 meters above a Gruppe of HE 111's. Their broad spade wings are mottled green and black. The shapes look like some sort of squat insects lumbering westward. The coastline passes beneath us as we leave the quiet green fields and safety behind. Today's target is just over the English coast; Manston Airfield will feel the Heinkels bombs today. The weather is clear with not a cloud in sight. The sky varies from deep to pale blue and the sun burns high in the sky behind us. Below, the channel waters sparkle with the sun's reflections.

An altogether beautiful and idyllic day. I know it will not remain so. All too soon the sky will be filled with twisting aircraft, some of them falling leaving a long trail of smoke to smudge the sky. There will also be a few - too few - parachutes hanging in the air, drifting slowly downwards. To our south, a huge amount of aircraft also flys westward towards another target. From this distance they look like a swarm of bees. The English coast is now close. There are neat patches of green here also. There is none of the safety of France however.

The coast flashes beneath us; ahead, is our target perhaps twenty kilometers past the coast. Ahead also, and closing rapidly are formations of enemy planes. I give orders to engage and turn right to gain a better position to close with the enemy in a pursuit curve. There appear to be two Staffeln of enemy machines. They are lower then the bombers, but climbing steadly. I am sure they have spotted us, and this is confirmed when one of the enemy Staffels turns towards my Gruppe's location. The other enemy formation continues to fly directly towards the bombers. We will not be able to intervene before they reach them.

This damn Close Escort has chained us too tightly and robbed us of a large portion of our effectiveness. Several of my Gruppe's birds have dived through and upon the Staffel climbing towards us and several combats break out as the enemy formation dissolves. Further below, the other English Staffel charges through the Heinkels. Two bombers begin to stream black smoke, while another falls away toward those green fields. I have seen enough! The nose of my Emil drops and the wings tilt left, as I push the stick forward and left. My airspeed quickly builds up to 700 kph. Below, the bombers continue towards the target, another trailing smoke.

They are now well west of me and I spot several enemy fighters turniing to dart forward and reengage the Heinkels. One is positioned favorably, and I continue to drop, kicking left rudder to curve in behind him. My Emil slides neatly behind my foe, which I see is a Hurricane, and quickly overhauls him. He grows in my sight and I am just about to squeeze the trigger when his left wing comes up into a tight break turn to the right. I have been spotted! My 109 is flying too fast to follow the enemy machine and I immediately pull back hard on the stick to climb. My vision greys at the edges as the G forces press me deeply into my seat.

Quickly, I climb 600 meters, clear my tail, and search for another target. The sky is filled with planes, twisting, turning, diving, and in a few cases falling. To my right and below I spot another enemy fighter darting forwards towards the bombers. Again I push over and fall towards the enemy. He is about 1000 meters away flying on a slightly converging course. I identify the plane as a Hurricane. He is moving fast and flying straight; obviously wanting to close with the bombers. My Emil tips left, skidding slightly as I use both ailerons and rudder to curve behind the Hurricane. The range closes swiftly and the plane grows larger in my Revi sight.

Almost there. Damn! This plane also breaks away at the last moment! Again, I pull back hard on the stick and feel the blood drain from my head. My 109 shoots upwards until I have climbed 600 meters. Once again I clear my tail and search for another enemy plane. Ahead the Heinkels are bombing and bright flashes light the ground as dust and dirt rise into the air. That is all I see as I concentrate on finding a new target. There are still many planes in the air, and it is hard to make out what is happening. Suddenly, my radio crackles with a warning from my wingman, "Break! Enemy plane behind and closing!" What the hell, where did he come from! I throw the stick forward and right, stomping the right rudder bar at the same time.

My plane turns hard and I hear my wingman's report that he is engaging the enemy plane. I continue to turn and see both the enemy aircraft and my wingman. They are both turning right. The English plane tightens his turn and my wingman's plane begins to swing wide, unable to match turn rates. I radio my wingman to break and kick over into another short dive. The Spitfire reverses, attempting to turn onto my wingman's 109. I am inside his turn, coming in at the Spitfire's 8 o'clock slightly above. Banking slightly more to the left I close the range and open fire. Rounds from my cannons and machine guns stream out, falling slightly behind the Spitfire.

I adjust my aim and squeeze the trigger again. This time I have the lead right and rounds slam into the enemy machine's left wing and fuselage. Pieces strip away, some trailing smoke. Suddenly, the wing folds up and snaps away in the slipstream. The enemy machine rolls uncontrolled across the sky and spins down toward the ground. I don't have time to see if the pilot gets out. I form up with my wingman and we climb again. The fight has moved off towards the northwest and we are alone. The bombers have turned back and are already well over the water. One of them trails smoke.

I turn towards the Heinkels and after some minutes take up station above and behind them. We escort the bombers until the French coast then break away to land at our airfield. Several of my pilots have landed before me and they, along with most of the ground staff are waiting for me. A loud cheer greets me when I step onto my Emil's wing. The victory today was number 20 and I have qualified for the Knight's Cross. My Operations Officer informs me that both the Geschwader Kommodore and JAFU 2 Commander are on the way to our airfield. Every one is in high spirits as we await their arrival. This will be a night to celebrate.