'Be careful what you wish for', the saying goes, 'you might get it.' Well, I wished for action, and I got it.

It's ten a.m. on the same morning, 2nd August and already, we are tasked with another patrol. It's in the same general direction, to the north-east, but this time to an aircraft parts factory at Southend. I rather think we should get only convoy patrols; land targets would be covered by scrambles to raids which might threaten them, instead. Generally, we should be tasked to patrol over a feature on the ground (eg a town, or even our own base) only to pre-position us to be vectored against a likely threat.



Anyhow, ours not to reason why, and all that. We've soon got away - six of us - and started climbing towards our patrol area. Looking left, I can see Hornchurch, just below Red 3.



I ease off on the power to let the others get into formation and catch out Red 2, who ends up briefly in front...



...then it's power back on, and up we go again.



I don't bother to call control during the trip to Southend; I suppose I'm getting a bit blasé about the whole business. So I'm all the more surprised when, just as we're approaching our task location, one of the boys calls out Bandits, at twelve o'clock high! Crikey! I turn on the TAC display, select one of them (whoever they are) and order them attacked. The boys do their best.



Looking up, I see a bunch of about a dozen aircraft on a roughly reciprocal heading, rapidly passing several thousand feet above us. I can't tell what they are, but their formation looks unlike bomber vics. Sure enough, they are fighters, Messerschmitt 110s. One of them is somewhat ahead of the rest and he waggles his wings before coming down on us, along with some of his friends.



Next second, there seem to be 110s all around us! Even as the ones still above start coming down too, the developing air battle is claiming its first victims.



I latch onto one of the Huns who is crossing in front of me from left to right. Ack Ack bursts mark his passage.



He's very fast but I finally get in range and let the beggar have it. Puffs of smoke show that I'm hitting him, too!



He jiggles about a bit indecisively, then makes up his mind, rolls over and goes down. I nearly overshoot, in my efforts to keep after him.



Just when I think the 110 isn't going to pull out, he does just that, and begins to climb back up. By this time, he's a long way off, though still being shot at by the boys on the ground.



Time to settle his hash for good! With 'everything pushed and pulled' to get maximum revs, I tear after him. A quick glance behind reveals the indistinct head-on shape of another aircraft, which looks like one of his friends. But he's a long way back and I reckon I've time for a crack at the first Hun. I get off a good burst, and the big Messerschmitt rolls briskly to the right and goes down.



At that very moment, the Hun behind me catches up and tracers flash past to my left. Instinctively, I roll right and pull back hard on the stick as my Spit goes over on her back.



Crikey! Serves me right for pining for a spot of action!


...to be continued!