Thanks Carrick! Have finally 'flown' another sortie and it's like starting again, it's been so long! Have had a few probs with SimHQ (only) but they seem to have resolved themselves after I reset IE11 options (still using Win 7 by default, as Win 10 stability for BoB2 is still no-where in sight, one of the advantages of WotR).

Next mission report coming up soon - back flying the Hurricane, not without success...

I freely admit that I play the BoB2 RAF Commander campaign in a fairly undisciplined and therefore hectic way. I tweak the wargame-level AI ‘Directives’ only slightly, and after that, intervene only with the couple of clicks needed to order an extra squadron scrambled against some raids. As intended, with just the minimum investment in the wargame level, this results in my getting many and frequent offers to fly (at my chosen point, when an intercepting squadron spots a raid). I tend to accept nearly all of the offers, so I fly several sorties during each of the three phases into which BoB2 divides a day’s operations. Hectic, like I said. And it can be quite disorienting to jump back in after a few real-life days away, and find that you are pitched straight back into the middle of a sustained series of air fights spread over half of south-east England.

And so it comes to pass that over a week after my last campaign mission, I suddenly find myself jerked back to lunchtime on the 17th August. The raids I flew against a real-life week earlier are all still there, but are now withdrawing towards, or just beyond, the south coast of England. I accept an offer to fly with 46 Squadron, whose twelve Hurricanes are pursuing a raid that’s already reached the English Channel on its way back to France. I’m flying PO-L, having as usual opted to lead Green Section. The triangular headland below is Dungeness.



The Huns are up ahead, at about the same level. As well as the usual three flat wedges of bombers – recognisable, like RAF squadrons, by their size and distinctive formations - there are also more irregular groups of smaller, vague specks, further above them, with others possibly below or between us and them. They are barely visible in the pic below, but they are there. The fighter escort, undoubtedly. To their right, somewhat closer, maybe a mile or two away, I can see what looks to be another RAF squadron also chasing the enemy.



I wait for the boss to call in the bandits, which he soon does, and give his orders, which he also soon does. Pick your own targets, he concludes. That's him in the lead on my left, in PO-T.



Despite some quirks of its own, the R/T chatter in BoB2 is much the best implemented of any sim I have played or seen played, which I think you tend to appreciate all the more if you’ve been trained yourself in some form of military radio voice procedure and/or have read up on Fighter Command’s equivalent and its radio systems of the period - to all of which I can, in all modesty, lay claim However, this means it can come as a surprise when it doesn’t fully manage to convey the subtleties of some unexpected or complex development, where a scripted mission could trigger a specific message - like ‘Yellow-nosed B**tards coming down, now!’ (to borrow a line from the BoB movie).

So here I am looking ahead, trying to select my own target as I’ve been bid. B Flight, to which my Green Section belongs, usually looks after the escorts, and today is no exception. But which escorts? The relatively tidy picture up ahead has started to look much more fluid. And unclear.



For a clue, I look around to see what the others are doing. And find that the others are gone.

It looks like the squadron’s attack has been interrupted, with few indications as to how or by whom. Seeking the explanation, I notice just behind me a revolving cylinder of aircraft, which looks like it could be, or at leave involve, our lot.



Meanwhile, the R/T traffic indicates that combat has been joined, without exactly indicating how. I could sweep away the uncertainty by turning on labels. But if there’s one thing that I hate, it’s an unlocked foot locker – sorry, I mean, turning a perfectly good air combat sim into a flying label sim. So I have a last look up ahead, for anything that will change my mind, and not seeing it, start a left turn, back towards the scene of the apparent action.



By now, I can see some vapour trails over there, which could be 109s diving on our boys. Or our boys, diving on 109s…I’m beginning to wonder.



Over to the left and slightly higher, I can also see what looks like a slightly ragged group of bombers coming towards me.



I chase after the fighters ahead. They seem to have stopped manoeuvring and look now to be flying away from me. A few of them dive steeply, down and away. Whatever’s happening? Are they our boys, or not? I don’t think they’re Stukas, because I’m at full throttle, but don’t seem to be closing. Uncertainty returns in full measure, and I keep glancing nervously in my mirror. Meanwhile, those bombers are rapidly getting closer.



In the end, the bombers coming up on my left give me something more concrete to focus on. I decide to go for them, rather than carry on chasing mystery aircraft doing mysterious things, while playing hard to get.



So up and around we go!



There are no escorts in sight as I spiral up after the Heinkels. Two of the three groups of bombers look a bit ragged – evidently they’ve already seen some action, and taken some losses.



As I level off and come in behind the bombers, I have time to think again about what I’m taking on here. There’s still no escorts anywhere in sight, but equally, there’s no other attacking RAF fighters, to spread the inevitable return fire. Which I will soon be running smack into.



Hmmm. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all....

...to be continued!

Setting aside my nagging doubts, I slide over to the right, towards the weaker group, and line up the hindmost Heinkel. Safer, plus whether modelled in BoB2 or not, they say it’s better to hit a few units hard, than spread the casualties around.



Any hopes I had of catching the Huns unaware are soon dashed, as tracers fly in both directions. My target and my own Hurricane are soon both taking hits.



I’m tempted to break off, but decide that lifting my fire would actually be worse than pressing home my attack. I bore in, snapping out short bursts. The Heinkel is smoking and I see what look like bombs being jettisoned. But they’re not bombs, they’re people!



Time to get out of it! I break down and right, somewhat the worse for wear. A few last tracers flash towards me, and I take a few last hits.



At any rate, the now-crewless bomber is definitely going down.



Rather awkwardly, I complete my turn, conscious that my engine’s revs are surging up and down. Below, against the steely grey sea, five parachutes mark the fate of the bomber crew.



Although we must be near mid-Channel, in the real Battle, their chances of rescue would probably be better than mine, if I have to join them. The Luftwaffe had better air sea rescue services at this time, including not only dedicated ASR He 59 floatplanes, but odd little floating buoys, dispersed in the Channel to provide havens for crews who can get to them.

The bomber formation is now over to my left. I roll unsteadily out of my turn and slide back towards them. My kite doesn’t want to fly level and the engine is still surging.



Looking in the mirror, I can’t see any Huns creeping up on me. What I can see is the greyish smoke trail I’m now leaving.



I end up sliding into what becomes in a tail chase behind the right-hand Heinkels.



On the instrument panel, the rev counter’s needle is flipping up and down and the engine’s note is going up and down with it. I seem to stop gaining on the bombers.



Hanging in the sky behind them, as if towed on an invisible string, I fire off a couple of long bursts. It’s a struggle to keep my wounded Hurricane’s sights on target.



The range is too long, my aim is too poor and I don’t see any hits. If anything, I seem to be dropping further behind. Time to go home! There are no other targets around; besides which, I’m thinking that I’ll be lucky to get back to the coast with my engine in this state. I fire off my remaining rounds and then break away. I hope I haven’t it left it too late.



But something goes wrong. My kite’s nose drops sharply into the turn and the next thing I know, I’m in a steep corkscrew dive with only the sea in my windscreen. Thoroughly disoriented, I manage nevertheless to get the nose back up near the horizon, but it’s at a crazy angle. The next second, I’m out of control and going down again. I chop the throttle and manage to avoid a spin, but I’m still going down steeply. Even if I recover again, I fear another fall could quickly follow and this time, I’ll be too low to pull up. So I slide back the canopy, pause briefly for no particular, conscious reason, and bail out. Considering how steeply I was going down, I’m mightily relieved when the canopy pops open.



It looks like I’ll be joining those German fliers in the drink, after all.

Nice Lima. Its interesting how the sky in BOB seems full with a 100 or more aircraft one minute and the next -your all alone.

At those times I try and do as you did and complete the object alone, and as you mentioned the right thing would be to call on the RT find and regroup with the squadron . The BOB RT works ok after you understand its idiosyncrasies.

I have notice that in the newest version the detached Luft escorts engage well , sometimes quite unexpectedly adding to the "dynamic" feel of the missions. Sometimes i leave labels on when commanding/leading which allows me to follow the flow. Watching how the various flights engage helps figure out what strategies work.

It's about 13:00 now, and some of our squadrons are still chasing raids back out over the Channel. I accept the offer to fly with one such, namely No. 92 Squadron. This unit fought in WW1 flying SE5a 'scouts' and was reformed at Tangmere in October 1939 from a cadre from 601 Squadron, Auxiliary Air Force. The squadron was said by Anthony Robinson in 'RAF Fighter Squadrons in the Battle of Britain' to have retained '...many of the relaxed and indisciplined ways ot its Auxiliary forebear, largely due to the influence of its first CO, Squadron Leader Roger Bushell...a fine natural leader'. Bushell was later famous as the leader of the 'escape committee' at Stalag Luft III, took part in 'the Great Escape' and with many others, was murdered after recapture by the Gestapo .

Here I am in QJ-K with Green 2, as we cross the south coast near Brighton.



The Huns are up ahead of us and well on their way home - maybe twenty bombers in two groups, with a cloud of twenty to thirty escorts, above. The boss - Red 1, using the squadron callsign Kotel Leader - orders B Flight to get the latter, while he leads A Flight after the bombers. Decent of him!



As I close the range, I can see that the escorts are beginning to weave about and loosen formation. Predictably, this means that they've seen us - and are going to do something about it.



At this point, I realise that I'm on my own. In BoB2, your squadron rarely goes straight for the enemy, when ordered to attack. They often sweep out to one side, and sometimes climb or dive before going in. So if like me at that point, you're paying more attention to the enemy than your friends, you can get quickly left behind.

In this case, at least one flight has swung out to my right and is now coming up behind me, contrailing.



To my right, a squadron of 109s is racing across to cut them off from the bombers!



You'll do, I decide, and feeling terribly brave, I bank hard right, after the Messerschmitts.



I slip in behind and below the two 109s on the right of the enemy formation. They look to be intent on coming up on the approaching Spitfires from ahead and below. Sneaky blighters!



Keen to interrupt this before the Huns can open fire, I hit the rearmost Messerschmitt with a quick burst. He rocks up and down unsteadily, and I hit him again. Abruptly, the 109 noses very sharply down and away, out of it. I'm pretty sure it's an escape manoeuvre not a death dive. But he's damaged and very likely out of the fight for a while at least.



I quickly switch my attention to the leader who decides not to wait around and be shot down. At least I've spoiled his attack on my friends. I trust that should be worth a virtual pint at the White Hart after we get back.



I land several hits on the 109 and he goes down and out, too.



I lose him against the sea and pull up and around rather than losing precious height searching for him. Up ahead, I can now see that there are actually three groups of bombers headed south for France. A ragged bunch of Spits is headed for them, with Yellow Leader - who is my boss in B Flight - warning on the R/T that he can see enemy fighters up ahead.



Those are my boys - time to rejoin them. They'll soon need all the help then can get, by the look if it!

...to be continued!

Go Gettum 33lima! We Shall Never Surrender! Ordered GBTF today in a hardback version. Almost finished with Spitfire Ace.

S!Blade<><

You will enjoy Ton Neil's book Blade, well written and one of comparatively few by or about a Hurricane pilot in the Battle. And like Gordon Olive's, it has quite a lot of logbook extracts as well as pics.

Good tip, Vox, using labels not to 'cheat', but to get some insight to how battles develop in BoB2. I too was quite impressed by the way the escorts reacted in this mission.

Back with 92 Squadron's attempted interception of a retreating raid, I race after the rest of B Flight as they close in. Suddenly, the five Spitfires go into a diving turn. The reason's not hard to see - the twisting contrails above them highlight a bunch of 109s in the very act of bouncing them!



The airwaves begin to fill up with excited R/T chatter. The 109s are now behind the Spits, chasing them off to the right. They're a long way off and going at full tilt, so I struggle to catch up.



Cutting the corner as best I can, I concentrate on a pair of 109s that's hounding a section of Spitfires.



I roll in behind the leader, who is closing in for the kill...



...taking a grave chance with his number 2, who is nicely placed to sandwich me if I mess this up...



I complete my turn and come out some way behind the leading Messerschmitt, just as he opens fire on the hind-most Spitfire!



I hastily raise my sights onto the Hun and let fly, at the same time expecting to be hit from behind myself at any moment. I'm not, but it's too late to save my flight-mate!



Furious and determined to wreak vengeance, I check my mirror - there's no sign of the second 109 - and go for the beggar up front. Ahead of him, the remaining two Spits are liable to be next for the chop and begin to break left.



The Hun breaks right and goes home at full tilt. He seems to know I'm after him, and banks slightly every so often, but refuses to make any turns that I can cut across. He's fast, and I just can't close the range. Regretfully, in mid-Channel, I give up the chase. On the way back another unidentified fighter crosses my nose, but I lose him when he changes direction while I'm making one of my frequent checks in my rear-view mirror.



Nothing else for it - time to go home. I've a certain amount of ammo left but fuel's getting low. Not the most productive of missions - two damaged is all I can claim - and I couldn't save that Spitfire, but I'll live to fight another day!

Nice report 33lima. It looks like you are still using TIR. How is that going for you? have you found comfortable settings? Is it becoming second nature and adding to the immersion? Or is it still unnatural or clunky? Be honest! LMAO
It must have been frustrating when the Hun pilots knew how to keep there speed up and when to high tail it for home after having shot one of your mates up. That feeling of rage and no outlet to even the score or get revenge. It
had to take a doggedly determined and disciplined person to keep himself in check and wait for and be ready to take advantage of that opportunity to exact the damage that the Huns were also exacting. Can't remember who, but
it seems to me it was a British pilot in the BOB when asked what special qualities the RAF pilots had, was quoted as saying, "Big Balls!" If this was true, I would have to agree.
Keep up the Good Fight Sir!

S!Blade<><

Hi Blade! I reverted to mouseview with that mission as I've been having intermittent lock-ups on exiting and am trying to pin down the cause - evidently not TrackIR as it wasn't running! Just a minor irritation as the campaign autosaves with every fly offer and the AI resolves the mission instead (which is actually more realistic as battles in the 3d world are rather brutal).

ATM I'm flying with prop pitch on manual control and the clickable cockpit turned on so there may be some button or lever I need to push or pull, like the boost control cut-out or somesuch, to get some extra power. There is a WEP-type setting in BoB2 but I believe it is a cheat which endows your plane with extra HP, so I stay clear of that!

Okay, back to work old bean! You have Holidayed far to long! Back in the fight my good Sir!!!

S!Blade<><

It wasn't an entirely Spitfire-free holiday...



(approx. 50% scale Spit Vb 'gate guardian' at the SOS Surprise Attack disco pub, Benidorm, a couple of days back)

...and to get back in harness, I've just been testing Boreas's new set of improved Spit skins, before jumping back into my campaign tonight, so I reckon I'm good to go!

Well, it's happened.

No, not that I've lost the campaign. Not yet, anyhow. For about the second time in about 10 months of regular play, I've fallen victim to a corrupted campaign file save. First time this happened, I'd been following the BDG manual's advice to have my own saving routine and not just allow the autosave function to keep over-writing and then reloading the same campaign file. No biggie, it just means the results of a mission I've flown in the 3d world end up being resolved instead by the 2d 'wargame' side instead. Which is fine. A post I later found implicates the frequency of jumping in to single missions (very high indeed, in my case) and/or the possibility of 3d and 2d outcomes getting so out of step the save function can't cope.

This doesn't affect single missions, which I confirmed by flying this one amongst others, which involved intercepting scattered raids with scattered escorts. 'Scattered' better described the state of nearby Hornchurch airfield after the action, while 'peppered' could well have been applied to my poor kite.



By the time things had settled down and I'd picked up the traces again, the air fighting had moved on to the afternoon of 17th August. The lunchtime raids had all crept back to France, and my own squadrons were refuelling. re-arming and/or resting. When during the lull the 'wargame' AI offered me the afternoon's 'Directives' to review, I decided to up the ante by increasing the patrols 12 Group was to mount over the hard-pressed 11 Group airfields around London, from a single squadron, to 'Paired squadrons', as shown in the dialogue box below. If I was going to go down, I might as well go out with a bang; or with as much style as I could muster, at any rate.



As for the prospects of going out, these turned out not to be as bad as a look at the 'Claims' section of the Review info box seemed to suggest. This put my losses (452 fighters!) about a hundred ahead of the Luftwaffe's, a lot worse than when I last looked. But the 'Enemy' section of the same Review info box showed actual Luftwaffe losses the other way around, at about a hundred more than mine. And the 'help' for that 'Enemy' tab says its figures are accurate, not affected by fog of war.

So I might be in with a chance of saving Western Civilisation, after all. Even though 11 Group's airfields are taking a real hammering.

Thus encouraged, I opt to fly with one of the 12 Group patrols at the point it spots an incoming raid. This is no less than Douglas Bader's 242 Squadron, who is leading today. Here I am, as usual flying as leader of Green Section, in LE-G, with Green 2 visible in LE-E. The whole squadron of twelve carries Bader's famous nose art showing Der Fuehrer getting a well-deserved RAF flying boot up the jacksie.



And there are the Huns - three groups of bombers, north-east of London, and at this point, unescorted. The small string of specks to the lower-centre right could be the 'paired' squadron that's about to join us in giving these Huns the same treatment depicted in that nose art. Hopefully.



The bombers turn out to be about thirty Dorniers, stepped up from front to rear, as often described by veterans of the Battle. The boss naturally orders them attacked. And naturally, I am keen to oblige.



I pick the most convenient target, the bomber on the right rear of the last group. I start shooting at quite long range, rather than closing in and letting the Hun gunners get off the first shots.



I seem to be getting some hits, but this particular Dornier doesn't seem to be particularly impressed. Disappointed that he shows no signs of going down, I carry straight on at full throttle and go for the next group of bombers, up ahead. Meanwhile, some of the others are beginning to knock Huns out of the leading group.



Once again, my target is reluctant to go down, but this time I try to aim more carefully. With satisfactory results.



However, I'm not the only one attacking this mob and I get a nasty shock when the Dornier in front of my target suddenly rears up right in my path, as the crew bail out. There's hardly time for an instinctive backward jerk on the stick and I resign myself to a collision and likely, virtual death.



But somehow, I miss the bomber. Dis-oriented by my sudden and savage pull-up, I look around and seem to be all alone. Where the heck has everyone gone? Uncanny.

After a few seconds circling as I look around, I spot what at first resembles a dogfight over to my right, at about the same level. It takes me a while to realise what I'm seeing is the remnants of a German bomber formation that is in the final stages of being torn to shreds by RAF fighters.



It's hard to be sure if it's all of, or one of, the three groups we first attacked or whether the attackers now are from 242. But this is the only show in town at the moment. So naturally, I steer in their general direction. I'm not sure if there'll be any targets left for me by the time I get there, but if this is our lot in action, I can at least re-join them in good time for the triumphal homecoming of the gallant victors.



As I get closer, I begin to wonder anxiously if there are some 109s mixed up in the swirling bunch of aircraft up ahead. But no, the fighters are all Hurricanes, like my own.



Suddenly, I see a lone, desperate Dornier detach itself from the untidy background picture and come in my general direction. Several other Hurricanes are showing an interest, so I try to set up a sort of semi-head-on deflection snap-shot.



Predictably, this produces no visible result, so I curve around behind the bomber. But I break down and left when I press the t*t and nothing happens. Drat! I didn't realise I'd used up so many rounds. But the Hurricane coming up behind me seems to have plenty left.



His aim is better than mine and the Hun is quickly smoking. I didn't notice at the time, but you can see another small group of bombers some way out to the right, also under fighter attack.



Soon afterwards, the boss - Bader - comes up on the blower and calls off the hounds. I get a course to base from Control and spot them off to my right as I fly home. Behind me, Green 2 appears and complains that he couldn't keep up - could I slow down please? Yes, as regulars will know well, you really do hear (and see) this sort of R/T chatter in BoB2. Anyhow the others aren't waiting for me, time is getting short and it's a long way back to base at (I think) Duxford. So I quit and get the black screen telling me the file save has failed. No worries, I'll simply restart from the last autosave and be content that the 'wargame' AI will resolve the result of my battle, which will be used to determine the campaign's course. Fine by me. It was a nice change to run into those unescorted bombers, and it looks like Leigh Malloy's 12 Group controllers are doing a decent job of protecting 11 Group's airfields. Or should I say, catching those raiding them, possibly too late to stop the bombs falling. But better late than never, I'm sure you will agree.

PS yes it's almost certainly a corrupted campaign autosave that I've got. Single missions are unaffected. Like this one from the 'Interceptions' set, involving a stern squadron attack on escorted bombers over London.

I nailed one of the escorts, but this only seemed to make the others cross.



This 109 seemed to take a particular dislike to me. By the time this pic was taken, my kite was already hard hit and didn't seem to want to turn right. The Spit up behind us didn't seem much interested in helping me, but then, the sky was pretty thick with angry Messerschmitts, so he likely had troubles of his own.



I tried to get away low over the rooftops, but soon after this pic was taken, he nailed me good and proper.



Anyway, will be back on campaign later - maybe I'll have better luck. BoB2's included interception and historical missions are mostly rather huge furballs, very dangerous places to be, even more than your average campaign mission.

Well, the good news is that I may have got over my suspected corrupt campaign file - by letting the last game hour or so of 17 August play out at 2D 'wargame' level without accepting any of the remaining offers to fly. After saving, this got me back to the main menu fine, with no lock-up. I hope this continues.

The bad news - which may be also be good news, if you're getting bored with these reports! - is that the end-of-day update informed me that most RAF squadrons are nearing exhaustion.

So the curtain may be about to fall - and I thought the RAF commander campaign was supposed to be relatively easy to win!

The new day dawns and I ruefully survey the depressing picture, which shows that few 11 Group airfields are still operational. I'm not sure what to do about this for the best, so confine myself to a single tweak of my previous Directives - 10 and 12 Group are still to patrol 11 Group bases with paired squadrons, but I now order raids with large escorts not intercepted. I reckon that I need to oppose weakness with strength, with what resources I have left.

In the Ops Room, I watch the plots for the day's first raids appear on the General Situation Map, then begin to sweep menacingly north-west across the Channel. The leading raid turns out to be a sweep of about thirty Messerschmitt 110s. I order several extra squadrons into the air, in addition to those 'auto-scrambled'. My first offer to fly comes at 07:39, with 610 'County of Chester' Squadron, famous for their oversized fuselage roundels and squadron identity letters, and for being the subject of several good formation pics taken early in the Battle, and of Revell's original 1/32 Spitfire kit.



We've put up the full normal complement of twelve aircraft, and this is me, with Green 2 to my right rear. At this point, we have flown across London from north to south, missing the Messerschmitt 110 sweep which is orbiting somewhere above, and climbing towards what I hope are incoming bombers.



The rest of the squadron banks towards me and I pull up and let them pass below and off to my right. By this time I can see several formations, in different directions, none of which look friendly. Which lot we're supposed to be dealing with is not yet clear, but I expect that if I stick to the squadron, that will sort itself out.



In the meantime, I'm particularly anxious about the closest Bogeys, one of which formations I realise is a large double or triple wedge of Hun bombers (visible just right of my canopy frame, in the next pic). The others, further away and heading astern of me, could be more bombers, and there is a dogfight going on behind and below them. Higher up, unseen aircraft are making vapour trails - possibly those orbiting 110s.



Betting on the nearest bombers being our assigned target, and grateful that they appear unescorted, I lead Green Section up onto the flank of these Huns.



As I begin to curve around behind and below the bombers - which even at this range look like Heinkels - the boss comes up on the R/T and makes it clear that our target is nearly behind us! And they have escorts, for B Flight is ordered to take the fighters.



Obediently, Green 2 and 3 bank away and disappear under my tail somewhere. Which leaves my on my own, with an awful lot of Huns up front and getting closer. The picture is confused by a pattern of Ack Ack bursts ahead of the bombers, and I can clearly see the more distant Huns to the right are still in contention, too.



Behind me is the raid I should be tackling!



And over to the right, just down river from London's dockland, another air fight is in progress.



Rather stupidly, I carry on alone, shutting my ears to the din of R/T calls as the boys do battle. Without me.



I bore in on the right-hand rear Heinkel and let him have it. He and his friends let me have it. Their shooting is concentrated and accurate and I'm hit repeatedly. Losing my nerve, I break without pressing home my attack, but too late to save my poor kite from getting a jolly good pasting. I catch more rounds as I break up and away, just to rub it in.



The bombers begin a steady, rather majestic turn to port, seemingly unimpressed by either my own attack or by the Ack Ack fire, which is now trailing astern of them, more a danger to me than the enemy. I try to turn after them, but my nose begins to dip...



...and keeps on dipping, until I'm going down nearly vertically. Had I eyes in the back of my head, I would have been able to see that my Heinkel had fallen out of formation and was also going down. Small consolation, that would have been!



I try to regain control but it's no dice. So I chop the throttle and slide back the cockpit canopy.



Still I can't pull her out, so hoping the speed's fallen off sufficiently, I hit the silk. Nothing happens for a few seconds after I've left the aircraft, then I hear myself grunt and see my arms and legs jerked forwards as thankfully, the canopy opens.



Not a good start to the 18th of August!

My next flight is with another outfit trying to intercept one of these early morning raids - 616 (South Yorkshire) Squadron. Here I am at the head of Green Section, flying roughly south, with the U bend in the Thames just visible above my Spitfire's tail.



And here's the squadron. One of these days I will replace the PRU-camouflaged leader with a proper skin - there isn't a spare slot and I'd rather skip having a recce Spit I can fly, than have one show up where it shouldn't be, in the 616 leader's position. You can also see an incoming and obviously escorted raid at our ten o'clock.



But there's another bunch of Huns up ahead, though further away.



The boss orders us to get the ones at ten o'clock. In we go!



I bank left, but some of the others are slipping out to my right...



...while others, well spread out, are heading for the Huns on a more direct route.



My first indication that plans are about to change comes just as Blue Leader (in A Flight, with the CO) is reporting the Huns now ahead of us. I notice Spits beginning to wheel around to my right.



Next second, the CO orders us to attack the raid to our right, instead. I do wish he'd make his mind up! Anyway, he is the boss, and orders are orders, so the Huns now at three o'clock it is.



As it happens, glancing the other way, I can see that another squadron is streaming towards the other raid. No harm in that - there's plenty of Huns for everybody this morning!



I slide over towards our new targets, looking for somebody to join up with as I go in. On top of that, there's the little question as to which fighters we in B Flight have been ordered to tackle. The beggars seem to be all around the bombers. This is going to be tricky!



...to be continued!

Looking right for somebody to re-join, I see some Spits slipping in behind the Huns. They are rather far off and I don't notice at the time that they're A Flight (led by the distinctive 'Camotint' PRU Spitfire). And are therefore going for the bombers, not the fighters that my own B Flight is supposed to attack.



These other Spits seem to be converging on a group of 109s which is shepherding the bombers from the rear. Ok, they'll do! The Huns don't seem to have realised that we're rapidly coming up behind them.



I roll in behind the nearest 109, closing quite fast - in BoB2, close escorts don't weave; flying at bomber cruising speeds, they are not hard to overhaul. Not long now! What I don't notice is that the other Spits are trying to get past the Messerschmitts to the right, evidently intent on the bombers.



Taka-taka-taka! I'm still in a bank to the left when I let fly at my chosen target. But out of the corner of my eye, I see that a top cover 109 unit has begin to react to our attack. Those must be the fellows that I should be dealing with!



Keeping up my speed, I make a right-hand climbing turn and slide in behind the wheeling Messerschmitts. It's at times like these that it helps to be alone, sneaking up on an enemy who is otherwise occupied.



I pick a Hun with white wingtips, more or less at the rear of the shower of Messerschmitts...



...but get a shock when another 109 with a yellow nose flashes past just feet above my canopy. He bears the markings of II Gruppe, Jagdgeschwader 3.



I manage to avoid ramming him and am glad he didn't shoot me down instead of merely scaring me. I switch targets to him and after a couple of bursts, down he goes. At which point, I notice big yellow tracers flashing past my left wing!



I've been caught napping!



I pull up and right to get out of the way but there are some nasty metallic bangs. Next thing I know, the horizon is spinning as it passes up over my head and my kite has flipped into a crazy downward corkscrew, completely out of control. And I'm on fire!



I chop the throttle and slide back the canopy. A red mist blurs my view, as down we go.



This is clearly bad, very bad.



My last hope is to get out. Which I somehow manage!



I watch myself pulling the ripcord, but no life-saving 'chute appears. Instead, there is a chilling scream, and I begin to flail the air with my limbs.



It's a long way down...!

It's still early morning and while the waves of enemy aircraft are mostly receding back towards France, some raids are still inbound. I pass on one offer to fly but accept the next time. Earlier, dipping into and out of some books, I had found myself admiring the artwork in Osprey's 'Dogfight - the greatest air duels of WW2' which is a compilation of individual titles, including the one on Spitfire vs Bf109E. One pic that caught my eye was by Jim Laurier and showed Bob Doe's 234 Sqn Spit in action. So when, a little later, BoB2 offered me the chance to fly with that very squadron, I jumped right in.

Here we are heading east-south-east from Warmwell, over in the 10 Group area. Thank goodness 10 and 12 Groups are still able to keep up the fight; 11 Group is pretty much a spent force after a week of intensive Luftwaffe attacks on Fighter Command and the RDF/radar network. There's a raid up ahead of us, and another two over to the left. Though barely visible in this pic, I can see that each raid is accompanied by swarms of escorts. It's an impressive and daunting display of sheer strength.



Out to our left rear is another RAF squadron on a slowly converging course, so we're not entirely alone. Massively outnumbered in our own skies, but not alone.



Up ahead and slightly right is a more pressing situation - a dogfight is in full swing, with fighters buzzing around, up and down, like a swarm of disturbed bees.



I report them on the R/T and the boss orders us - Bearskin Squadron being our radio callsign - to get stuck in and pick our own targets. Safeties off! Or gun buttons to 'fire', more accurately.



The squadron quickly begins to spread out. The air battle is some way off and as I close the range it's hard to tell friend from foe.



So I simply steer for the thick of it and as I get nearer, pick out somebody to chase. The odds are probably better than 50:50 that whoever I pick will be a Hun!



My luck must be running low today for the first two fighters I choose turn out to be Spitfires, like this one. If you don't get a clear view of the elliptical wing, a flash of brown often gives them away, as here. Anyway I manage to avoid shooting at anyone on our own side.



I seem to have drifted away from the fight and it takes me a few seconds to get my bearings again. But I don't need to rush, for the party's still going strong.



A pair of angular aircraft pass across my nose from left to right, roughly in line astern. They're not Spits this time, I'm certain, and as I get closer, I realise they are Messerschmitt 110s. That'll do nicely!



I swing in behind the Hun number two but he sees me coming and quickly tightens his turn. There's no return fire that I notice.



I get in a burst and he briefly levels off, which allows me to get into his blind spot.



Another burst from close range and the 110 rolls left and goes down!



I break left to clear my tail and watch him go. I'm not going down after him, preferring to keep my height and stay in the squadron's fight. From the way the Hun's going down, I don't think I need to worry about him recovering, let alone rejoining the action.



A good start, this time! But can I keep it up?

...to be continued!

I know the 110 will only count as a ‘probable’ but I’m still feeling pretty chuffed and have lots of ammo left. So - looking in the mirror at intervals, having learned that lesson again - I come around after another target. The airwaves are filled with warnings and calls for help, so the boys are obviously still in the thick of it – BoB2 realistically has ‘one squadron, one channel’ so - unlike my impression of Il-2 ’46 - when you hear other calls from pilots, you know they’re your own people, not somebody miles away fighting an irrelevant battle.

So it’s with a sense of urgency that when I hear Blue 2 calling for help, I try to respond. Some way off, I see a fighter being chased, which could well be him (I tend not to use the ‘padlock last caller’ key, which seems a bit erratic).



I slip in behind the pursuer, who turns out to be a 109 with white wingtips, chasing a Spitfire.



My priority is to help my friend – I’m certainly not going to use him as bait for the sake of claiming a kill! So I open up early. This has the desired effect! The Hun rolls onto his back and dives away. Job done! Just to be sure, I roll with him and let him have another burst.



The 109 goes straight down and while I’m checking my rear view mirror, I lose him against the landscape. Never mind, he’s out of the fight for now.

Speaking of the fight, it seems to have evaporated. I climb gently in wide turn, looking for threats or targets. All I can see are a couple of smoke trails, higher up and barely visible against some thin cloud (just below and right of top centre in the pic below). Damaged Hun stragglers, heading south for home!



Heading towards them, I can see that they are bombers – Junkers 88s by the look of it.



As I come in after them, I see that there’s another loose pair in a similar condition, on an identical course, a couple of miles ahead. The sky seems otherwise clear. My plan now is a simple one – to go through this lot like a dose of salts, one after the other.



The Huns are definitely 88s and I have little difficulty overhauling them. I’m soon in rage of the tail-end Charlie, and let him have it...



I’m determined to get him in a single pass so I can go straight for the one ahead of him. The crew bail out of my victim and I having closed right in, I need to break hard to avoid ramming him.



Suddenly my Spit flips over and departs violently. Or at least it seems violent to me. At first I seem to be in a flat spin but after chopping the throttle, the nose comes down and some opposite rudder stops the rotation. By the time I’ve climbed back up, the Huns have extended the range considerably. At first, all I can see is the two out in front, who are nearing the Channel coast. As I turn after them...



...the boss is on the blower; it’s obviously been a good day for the squadron, because he’s already offering to buy us some drink.Likely, they're headed head back west to Warmwell.



Looking half right, I can also see the third bomber, closer in but off to the side. I’m conscious that Hun fighters may also be heading home this way but some nervous scanning of the skies shows no ‘snappers’ in sight. I decide to go for the nearest Junkers next.



Again I close quite quickly...



...and when in range, start snapping out short bursts. This time, I break a bit earlier and less violently.



The bomber had just begun to sideslip to the right as I broke off so I wasn’t sure I’d hit him hard enough. But looking down and right, he does seem to be finished. I don’t see any chutes or fire though.



Nevertheless I let him go and chase after the two up ahead. I haven't finished with these people yet.

…to be continued!

A busy lad! How are the numbers? Oh, but the day may not be over yet either though.

S!Blade<><