I have to face the possibility that my trusty Merlin could give up the ghost at any time, so I'm glad to be nearly back over terra firma, if still some way off the nearest airfield. I decide to make for the base at Thorney Island first, If I make it there, I will try to complete the next hop back to Tangmere, or Westhampnett which is slightly closer.



Suddenly, I’m hit again! My Spit seems to shove her nose down of her own volition, as if under the impact of the rounds.



I regain control in a steep dive, with the ground coming up rapidly...



...and pull out just in time, doubtless to the chagrin of the persistent Hun who is waiting and watching for the crash.



I don't expect to survive the next attack, or a forced lading in my crippled crate if I do. So I pull up to gain a bit of height, level off, and bail out.



My ‘chute opens so quickly I’m worried it’ll snag on my abandoned machine, but I get away with it!



The Hun calls it quits….



…while the Spit just carries on in the shallow dive I left her in….



…for the last few hundred feet down to the sea.



The 109 heads for home. He's from I/JG53 and has a long way to go home across the Channel, to his base in the Cotentin peninsula or the Channel Islands.



A Spit for a Heinkel might be regarded as a fair exchange. But while I have survived my dip just off the coast, the flight has been savaged by the 109s.



Only Red 2 got back; the other four chaps are killed, and their Spitfires lost with them, like mine. Five aircraft and four pilots lost! So for now, the Squadron is left with just 11 of us. What a disaster! Next time, I’ll not be putting up just a single flight – we’ll all be going on the next show!