I'm not disappointed - within a few minutes, we're vectored to a fresh raid, out to the east. But the first aircraft we see are from another RAF squadron. I watch them closely just in case, and in the hope they too are tasked to intercept the same raid. With just the six of us, we'll need all the help we can get.



The newcomers are actually Spitfires from 66 Squadron...



...but they swing around and fly away, to the south-west. I bank to keep them in view, but they hold their course....



...and are soon slipping abreast and then astern of us. A pity!



Up ahead, the ground haze obscures visibility beyond a handful of miles, but at the raid's reported height, conditions are relatively clear.



Another check with the Controller confirms we are still in play and have just over twenty miles to go.



A glance behind confirms that the boys are neatly stacked up, mostly to my left rear. I'm cruising now, we'll be there soon enough. As the old saying goes, no man rushes to a market where there is nothing to be bought but blows.



By now, we're crossing the Thames Estuary diagonally and headed towards the broad estuary of the Medway, to the south. There's still no sign of the Huns, and I scan the skies ahead anxiously.



Where are they?

...to be continued!