65 Squadron, 14th August 1940, morning


It's a squadron scramble! Or A Flight anyway, since we're the only ones at readiness. Bandits approaching the coast to our west!



For once, caught up in the excitement, I select max boost and am off the ground noticeably more quickly than I can manage without it.



And it's a fine day for an air fight, clear blue skies mostly - seems a shame to close the canopy. A few pilots preferred not to, but seem to have changed their minds when the risk of fire being sucked into an open cockpit became apparent.



Tangmere is soon slipping away behind me. But where are the boys?



While I'm waiting for them to appear, I check my heading by briefly turning on the TAC display. And call the Controller for a Vector to the Bandits. After a pause, he comes back to confirm they're now over forty miles away, at 17,000 feet. He gives us an course of 102 degrees, which should ideally be to intersect their path, not their relative bearing.



By now, the rest of the flight is sliding over from my left.



Soon, we're in formation and climbing hard. Forty miles along and three miles up suddenly seems a long way off and I'm fretting at the thought I might fluff the interception.



Passing Brighton on the coast, I level off and make sure the boys are keeping up. I want to get to the party on time, but not on my own. I'm the leader here and I need to bring the flight into battle as a unit. As 'Sailor' Malan put it, teamwork is one of the words that mean something in air fighting.



I ask for another update and an a bit worried when I head that the Bandits are still reported to be thirty-seven miles away.

I'm now at about eighteen thousand and can afford to level off and race ahead.



As I turn left out to see onto another fresh Vector from the Controller, one of the boys spots the Huns and reports them on the R/T - straight ahead and low.



This is it!

To be continued!