The action isn't over yet for 312 Squadron. Later that day, they find themselves intercepting Hostile 301, thirty-plus - a dream target - unescorted Stukas! The raid has turned east along the Thames Estuary by the time we intercept, with the Isle of Sheppy visible below - they may be intending to keep the airfield of Manston out of action.



There they are, up above! I order the boys into action without waiting for us to close the range.



My own first pass sends a Stuka down in flames.



Another one is going down the same way on my right.



To my left, others are also ripping into the Huns to great effect.



Yet more Stukas are falling from the skies as I come in for my second pass...



...which sends another one down in flames.



What's left of his squadron gets a good view of his demise.



Other Hurricanes are swinging around for their second passes, too.



I go wide to watch and assess the situation. Which is very promising - the boys keep coming back for more.



Right - time for what may be a last pass before my ammo runs out. The more of these people we can hack from the skies now, the fewer bombs they will drop on the heads of the people down below.



In my keen-ness to bag a third Stuka with the last of my ammo, I break too late and tear off my starboard wingtip on my target. Taking to my 'chute, I can see that there's not much left of Hostile 301.



We again succeeded in savaging a few raids by letting others go unmolested, by the few patrols we can now put up. The day nevertheless ends on a sombre note.



...to be continued!

The morning of 6th September opens with Hostile 301, thirty-plus, coming in across Kent, headed north. Why someone has estimated its target to be Middle Wallop fighter base, which is well to the west, is not clear. The latest update on the raid, which being overland will come from the Observer Corps rather than RDF, indicated that it's unescorted Junkers 88s - just the sort of raid I want to concentrate against. I order off thirty fighters from four squadrons and vector them towards the raid.



Our intelligence indicates the enemy has about five hundred Messerschmitt 109s available, about twice the number of operational single-seat fighters currently in Fighter Command. Why we are nevertheless seeing some raids without any escort is hard to fathom, but welcome!

First in contact is 321 (Czech) Squadron, which meets the enemy after they have turned west to fly down the Thames Estuary, towards London . Leading the six Hurricanes, again in DU-T...



...I order the boys in as the raid sweeps towards us.



Rather than try a hasty head-on pass, I take my time, come around from the rear, and manage to shoot one Junkers out of formation on my first pass.



Instead of breaking, I quickly switch targets to the bomber in front, and send him down and out, too!



I go wide to assess the situation before my next pass - and see a group of Spitfires coming in behind the Huns.



This is looking promising!



As well as attacking the right-hand group of bombers, our aircraft are causing casualties in the middle group, too.



I knock down one of the Huns from the inside of the right-hand group, using up the last of my ammo...



...then I pull out to one side and slide back the canopy, the better to watch and take stock. Everything is running smoothly, in fact I don't think I've been hit. The Huns, on the other hand, have been hit hard. They're by now over the West End of London., still headed west.



The attacking Spits are from 74 Squadron, which put up twelve of its aircraft, distinctive in their interim blue interpretations of the Sky undersurfaces which officially replaced black-aluminium-white from June 1940.



Closing in for a better look before recalling the boys and going home, I can see that only one of the three groups of bombers is so far escaping destruction.



The last combat of the morning sees 616 Squadron attacking Hostile 902, a larger raid, despite being tasked to Hostile 801.



How that happened I don't recall, but the net result is thirty-one claims for thirteen losses against Hostile 801, with 616 claiming no less than thirteen from Hostile 902, for three Spitfires lost.



Fewer losses amongst the defenders would have produced a better balance sheet, but fatigue is undoubtedly taking its toll on the few squadrons still in action.

...to be continued!

The last air fight of 6th September sees six Spitfires of 616 squadron intercepting a raid composed of Messerschmitt 110s, north of the Thames Estuary. After ordering the boys in and hearing rather than seeing that they're in action, I rather rashly chase on my own after a bunch who are turning left across my nose.



I burst through the enemy formation, managing only a quick pass which damages one of the Messerschmitts. At this point, surrounded by doubtless angry Huns, I realise that I've got myself into a tight corner!



There's an airfield nearby and I race for it. If i'm going to make a solo stand, I had better do it where ground fire can help me out.



Calling for help doesn't...help, that is. I run for it with a gaggle of 110s after me. There's a setting to limit this sort of 'conga line' behaviour in BoB2's bdg.txt file but if you're the only target...!



I arrive over the airfield and turn at bay.



I tighten my turn to evade the 110s curving in behind me...



...and take pot shots at any that cross my nose. I settle for damaging a couple of them; it would be suicidal to chase a single target for long.



Meanwhile the airfield defence people are shooting, too. I think the base might be North Weald; it's showing all the signs of having been bombed.



One of the Huns goes down in flames. I think I got him but it's hard to be certain. Anyway that's one less to worry about!



After several minutes of nerve-wracking combat, the air fight peters out. I look around and all I can see is two damaged aircraft running for home. Time to go over onto the offensive!



The trailing 110 soon goes down in flames...



...but unsurprisingly, I run out of ammo after landing only a few hits on the other one. Who is therefore The One That Got Away.



The fighting has seen is claiming forty-four victories from two raids, including no less than thirteen by 616 (shared with the Ack Ack people at North Weald?) for sixteen losses.



There is one other raid later n the day, but we don't manage to intercept it. The tally at the end of the day is slightly lower at thirty-nine for some reason, but it seems we've had a decent showing.



In the real Battle, tomorrow - 7th September - was the day the Luftwaffe switched to mass daylight attacks on London, in an effort to repay Bomber Command's Berlin raids and force 'the last fifty Spitfires' into the air to be gunned down by 109s. I don't have the substantial number of aircraft that the real Fighter Command was able to muster but a respite from attacks on my fighter bases and factories could be my last hope, if the sim's AI Luftwaffe follows suit!

...to be continued!

The 7th of September starts quietly. There are no morning raids. 'The b*ggers are up to something', to quote the movie.

What they're up to starts to become clearer just after mid-day, when Hostile 201 - a whopping three hundred and fifty-plus - is plotted crossing the Channel. All I can scramble against this monster is twelve Spitfires, six each from 74 and 616 Squadrons, which are ordered to patrol airbases in the raid's current path.



As the raid comes in from the coast, I vector the two squadrons to intercept it. By this point, Hostile 301, now being tracked visually by the Observer Corps as it's inland, is reckoned to comprise over six hundred aircraft, identified as Heinkels, though not all of them can be. Crikey! And it's headed...for London!



Sure enough, the targets are London's docklands. Millwall Dock, in the great U-bend in the Thames, is first to be bombed. By 1 p.m.m the raid has split up, with most elements now headed back south. No.616 Squadron is chasing down Hostile 203, thirty-plus Dorniers.



There's the raid, crossing out near Folkestone.



I lead the boys after it in a barely-perceptible climb.



Then something strange happens. The raid, which appears unescorted, starts a turn to starboard.



As we come up and around after them, the Dorniers settle onto a course back to the north!



It looks like they were unable to bomb initially and have come around in wide sweep to make another run; perhaps on an alternative target. Anyhow, now's our chance!

...to be continued!

I order in the boys. They attack the middle group of Dorniers, while I tackle one in the right-hand group.



My target goes on fire - then suddenly explodes! I fly unscathed straight through the cloud of smoke and hail of aircraft parts...



...and promptly blast the bomber in front of my victim. The damaged Hun reels out of formation.



I come around for another crack. To my right, two Dorniers are streaming smoke and running for home, harassed by a couple of fighters.



I level out behind the same group I attacked before, who are now less two of their original number.



Ignoring the return fire, I clobber another Dornier...



...then come around for another pass. As I'm coming in, I can see that a Spitfire to my left front is getting hits on a bomber, but is caught in a vicious crossfire, from ahead and to his left.



The Dornier goes down, but so does the Spit. Seconds later, the Spitfire bursts into flames!



Much to my disgust, I have to give up my attempt to even the score when I run out of rounds.



As I go, I'm pursued by Hun tracers, but I escape unhurt. As I'll discover later, 616 will be claiming ten shot down for one loss - a great result for the Squadron!



Well, there you are! True to history, the Luftwaffe has thrown its full strength against London! All I can hope is that the respite thus gained hasn't come too late for Fighter Command.

...to be continued!

Having struck at the capital in such strength over lunchtime, will the Luftwaffe be up to mounting another large raid today? The answer is 'Yes'! Hostile 751, two hundred and fifty-plus, is plotted crossing the coast west of Dungeness. Target is estimated to be the docks in the Isle of Dogs, again.



The six Spitfires of 616 Squadron are fist into action, led by me in YQ-B.



There's the raid. They've nearly reached their target! There look to be about sixty bombers in two waves of three groups each. In front, is a cloud of fighters, thirty to forty maybe. To our left front is a big fighter sweep, maybe another sixty to seventy aircraft.



We race for the bombers, Red Section in the lead. I'm desperate to catch the bombers before they drop, if at all possible.



Evidently, the escorts aren't going to make it easy for us. Two groups of fighters have turned around and are passing on our left. It looks like rather than rushing at us as they sometimes do to break up our approach, they intend to come in from astern. This time it seems like they're out for making kills, above saving bombers.



Sure enough, the fighters - 109s, clearly - start curving in behind.



The race is on! I'm temped to break, but I want to get those bombers!



to be continued!

Throttle wide open, I edge out gently to the right. The raid is starting to come under Ack Ack fire from London's defences.



The bombers must be seconds away from bomb release.



The 109s are still right behind us but seem unable to close the range on our six Spitfires.



We're very nearly in range of the Dorniers when they unload; two large bombs fall from each aircraft. We're too late!



We pile into them anyway, my first pass sending down one of the Huns.



Breaking hard, I look around for the 109s. There's a group of aircraft visible in my mirror, but they're some way back. Up ahead and above is a fast-moving single aircraft, which looks like a Messerschmitt 110. He's turning and seems undamaged, so I go for him.



I close quickly and realise that the aircraft is a straggling Dornier. The Ack Ack gunners and I both start shooting him up.



Down he goes!



Right, where is everybody? Only two pilots reply to my request to report their situation. The only aircraft I can actually see are the Dorniers as they sail past, their ranks now looking somewhat ragged.



Banking right to come after them, I look down. The Isle of Dogs docks have evidently taken another pounding.



I level off after the bombers and check behind. To my right rear, there are escorts. A lot of them!



So it's another race against time to get to the bombers before the escorts get to me. If they spot me!

...to be continued!

Here we go!



The Dorniers help by turning left across my nose, enabling me to cut the corner.



I manage only to cause some damage before breaking low with ammo gone.



Fortunately, all those escorts seem as keen to get home as I am.



The mission folder displays some strange results. The docks critically damaged is not unexpected, but there seems to be wild over-claiming against the lunchtime raid. Conversely, 616 and 74 Squadrons are claiming only two from Hostile 751, with four Spitfires lost from 616 - those 109s must have caught up with them!



It's been another exciting virtual day's simming, as only BoB2 can provide it!

...to be continued!

Predictably, the headline with which 7th September ends is the bombing of London.



Meanwhile, some damaged fighter bases are coming back online, including Manston in Kent. I had moved 92 Squadron there in anticipation, from Pembry in Wales, and on the afternoon of 8th September, the Squadron puts up twelve Spitfires against one of the latest raids on London, Hostile 751 - six hundred aircraft including 109s, 110s and Dornier 17s.

By the time we make contact, the raid has bombed and is withdrawing to the south, having split up into several smaller formations. We climb up after the Huns, me leading in OJ-S.



And there's the part of the raid we're intercepting - about thirty bombers with no escorts in sight.



I order the boys in and throttle back to see how their attacks develop. The Spits tear into the Huns - Dorniers - as they flit in and out of the tops of the clouds.



Then I open her up and make my own pass, knocking down a Dornier but taking a couple of hits myself.



No apparent damage is done to my kite, so I come around for another pass.



...to be continued!

As I come in again behind the Dorniers, I repeat the order to attack them. I needn't have bothered; several other Spitfires are already going in.



I shoot up a bomber but suddenly, as I break away, everything goes red and my Spit starts rolling uncontrollably. I'm on fire! As is the Dornier I attacked, which is also missing his port outer wing. Maybe I struck him a glancing blow!



I somehow manage to chop the throttle, slide back the canopy and get out.



After a few tense seconds, my 'chute pops open. The air fight passes overhead, still in full swing.



Back in the Ops Room, I can see that we're claiming fourteen destroyed, all from the raid 92 Squadron intercepted, in return for eight losses. A look at the detail in the Squadron dairy shows a different picture: just two out of 92's eight losses were destroyed with one pilot lost, while the Squadron is actually claiming six Dorniers shot down and six damaged. Ack Ack may have scored against Hostile 751 too. No.17 Squadron failed to make contact, so considering the size of the raid, 92 did well to find an unescorted portion and do it significant harm.



The day ends with the news that the RAF has bombed Berlin!



...to be continued!

The 9th of September's first incursion comes at lunchtime - the raids are now fewer and less frequent, but bigger. Hostile 101, three hundred plus, is plotted crossing the Channel towards Dover. A sign of Fighter Command's slow recovery, I'm able to scramble no less than nine patrols against it.



First into contact are the six Hurricanes of 145 Squadron, south of London. I'm leading, at the head of Red Section, in SO-T.



By the time we've sighted the raid, it has broken up and is heading south after bombing. Up and around we go, after them - thirty bombers in the usual groups of ten.



But it's not going to be that simple! We're suddenly bounced by Messerschmitt 110s, diving on us from goodness knows where. Our formation quickly disintegrates and it's everyone for himself.



I manage to get behind one of the Huns and down he goes in flames.



It's as well I break hard, because one of his mates is hot on my heels.



I then latch onto and chase down a 110 that one of the others has winged.



The Hun rolls over and falls away, but I have no time to observe let alone confirm his fate. Above me, the dogfight is in full swing.



However, conscious that I am now on my own, I'm more interested in the groups of bombers which are passing overhead.



There are already some gaps in the enemy's formations and at least one fighter is attacking them. I decide to join in!



...to be continued!

I come up after the raid, keeping a wary eye out for other aircraft, especially the 110s which hit the squadron earlier. I can see that somebody's drawing a lot of Ack Ack fire over to my right rear, but far enough away not to pose an immediate threat.



To my front is the raid itself. I can see that as well as six groups of bombers, some with gaps in their ranks, there's also a squadron or so of escorts of some kind, possibly out in front. A few single aircraft are climbing up towards the Huns, likely other RAF fighters.



Although I can't see them, below me are several widely-scattered Messerschmitt 110s, on a roughly parallel course.



As I near the bombers' level - Heinkels, they are - another fighter attacks the left-hand group. An aircraft blows up - it must be a bomber, as it leaves a gap in their formation that wasn't there before.



I have a look around and seem to be in the clear. Then up I come behind the outermost bomber on the left.



A few short busts as my sights come on, my target disappears in smoke, then I'm up and away, pursued by angry tracers.



The bomber I attacked starts to lag behind the others...



...who press on towards the coast and relative safety.



My attack used up the last of my ammo...



...so all that I can do is slide back the canopy and see them on their way. The escorts that were out in front of them seem to have disappeared - possibly they were 109s operating at the limit of their practical endurance who needed to get home before their fuel ran out.



So ends the air combat on 9th September, which concludes with another warning of how close we are to destruction.



We're now putting more fighters into the air, but meeting more big raids which are more often well escorted. So while our claim to loss ration is still good, it's not as good as it was and we can less afford the losses. The only improvement in our position since the Luftwaffe switched to bombing London is that our hard-hit airfields are coming back to action and some depleted but potentially operational squadrons are becoming available again.

...to be continued!

September 10th opens with another huge raid apparently headed for London - Hostile 201, five hundred-plus. Against this lot, I can put up patrols from six squadrons, a total of just forty-eight fighters!



First into action are the six Spitfires on 92 Squadron, coming across from Mantson. I'm leading in QJ-S. The objects strung out in rows behind us are the balloons of the Dover barrage.



this time, we're meeting the raid on its way in. If nothing else, we can begin the process of 'stripping away' some of the escorts, in the hope that later arrivals will get to the bombers. The raid itself is varely visible amongst an Ack Ack barrage, but I can see that several aircraft have detached themselves and are coming our way.



The new arrivals are Messerschmitt 109s of I Gruppe, Jagdgeschwader 26.



Our neat formation quickly breaks up as the 109s tear into us. Seconds later, the first Spitfire is going down.



I spend the next few minutes trying to shoot 109s off other people's tails. I'm too late to save this one.



Over on my right, there's a conga line of a 109 chasing a Spitfire who's on the tail of another 109 chasing another Spitfire. I turn in towards them...



...and manage to chase off the last Messerschmitt. Then I'm hit myself and go down trailing smoke with a Hun glued to my tail.



Cannon and MG rounds smack into my Spitfire. I'm going straight down, unable to regain control as the earth rotates slowly in my windscreen, getting closer and closer. I've had it! I chop the throttle, slide back the canopy and jump clear. but my 'chute doesn't open!



The Squadron has been wiped out - all six Spitfires destroyed!

...to be continued!

Next to make contact are the twelve Hurricanes of 312 (Czech) Squadron, who are coming down from the north.



Oh, crikey! What are we going to be able to do about this lot? I can see maybe thirty bombers - it's hard to tell - but all around them are swirling clouds of fighters, and few of them will be ours. In all the campaign, I've never seen so many in one place.



Ack Ack fire adds to the confusion. I order the boys in and lead Red Section towards the nearest bombers, who happen to be Dornier 17s. I can only hope that in the apparent utter chaos, some of us will get through.



As I come in, a stricken Dornier swings out of formation and rolls on his back, heading straight for me. Evasive action seems as likely to provoke as avoid a collision, and I freeze at the controls and wait for the worst. The tumbling Hun flips past a few feet away.



After that close shave, my hand isn't the steadiest nor my shooting, the best. I plough through the nearest bunch of bombers, hitting the left rear machine then plastering the one in front of him. Tracers fly at me and I break clumsily without being sure how much damage I've done.



Coming around again, the bunch I've attacked looks to be missing a bomber from the side I attacked, so it seems I may have forced one out of formation.



I manage to do the same to another Dornier...



...then next second, I'm fighting for my life as one of the escorts finally catches up with me. My kite is hit hard. Now, it's a matter of survival.



...to be continued!

I roll over into a steep spiral dive in an effort to clear the line of fire but the 109 sticks to my tail like glue and I'm hit again. By now, my Hurricane is going straight down and barely responding to the controls.



It's time to save what I can - myself! Back goes the throttle then the canopy, and out I go!



This time, my Caterpillar Club membership, and my neck, are secure. At worst, I might get a dunking in the Thames or the docks.



I wasn't the only Hurricane in trouble.



Some of the escorts have come down to fight us off...



...while may others continue to cover the bombers...



...which plough on remorselessly to their targets, the East India Docks in the Isle of Dogs.



There are so many escorts in the air, 110s as well as 109s...



...that Fighter Command has paid a high price - seventeen fighters - for just just fourteen claims from the lunchtime air battles.



It seems that the Luftwaffe is succeeding in its aim of forcing us into combat with overwhelming numbers of these people, who are only to happy at the chance to just gun us down.



Time for a change in tactics, if we're going to gain any real respite from the enemy's switch to bombing London!

...to be continued!

September 10th ends without further attacks. The next day, over lunchtime, another huge raid heads for London - Hostile 201, reckoned to be nearly six hundred strong. I scramble several squadrons to patrol over locations on the raid's flanks. But this time, I'm not going to re-vector them to intercept - unless and until the raid splits up and I have a chance to order interceptions against an element composed (we hope) only of bombers. London will just have to 'take it', but a late interception means there's a good change the 109s in the escort will be on their way home and unable to intervene.

As it happens, the raid does indeed break up over London and I'm able to order three patrols to intercept a group of thirty Heinkels. No.145's Squadron's six Hurricanes get there first. We're coming up from the south and the bombers are by this time over London.



As we go for them, the Huns start to turn back, probably after bombing. Above them I can see a group of smaller specks - another intercepting patrol or some escorts, I can't be sure. I order the boys in and hear myself exhorting them to 'cut some cake'!



The nearest group of bombers turns nearly underneath us.



I roll right and go after them. Some other Hurris are breaking away after making their own passes.



I get hits on two bombers in my first pass, but can't see any results before breaking off, although you can see that one of the Heinkels underneath me is slipping out of formation.



A check astern reveals a solitary 110 at some distance to my right rear, but for some reason, he wavers then dives away. Coming after the Heinkels again, I reckon it's one of my targets who's now straggling on the left.



I put some rounds into the straggler who rocks his wings and disappears on a cloud of smoke. Rather than watching him, I immediately roll right away from him then roll back left, lining up behind the main formation.



My firing pass leaves another bomber trailing smoke, if nothing worse.



The straggler I attacked is still straggling, but not going down yet.



My shooting isn't much good today!

...to be continued!

I come around for another pass at the main group...



...and this time, knock down one of the Huns, whose crew starts bailing out.



I make another pass at the other, right-hand side of the formation with the last of my ammo, with nothing in particular to show for it. Up ahead, another Hurricane is having a go at the leading bunch, who seem to have lost one of their number and suffered damage to several others.



Nothing much to do now except check my tail and slide back the canopy for a better view, as I watch the fighting from a safe distance.



In the meantime, I order anyone who can help to attack my straggler, and am pleased when someone responds.



No-one seems to have any further luck. In fact the fighting seems to have petered out.



The Heinkels meanwhile rumble on...



...towards the south coast and safety.



The Huns aren't quite out of it yet, though. A solitary Hurricane is closing in on a straggler...



...who is falling below as well as behind his parent formation.



In fact there are at least three Hurris closing on the Heinkels.



Their attacks are pressed home but the shooting isn't great, probably as everybody is by now exhausted. No bombers go down, but I see first one then another Hurricane break away trailing smoke, one reporting on the R/T that his engine is badly overheating as he goes.



Anyway we did our best, and despite the presence of some Messerschmitt 110s, we succeeded in evading the 109s and concentrating against a group of bombers without close escort; at the cost of intercepting after London was again bombed. We're claiming twelve against five of our own.



It would have been very different had not we succeeded in intercepting after the 109s had left.

...to be continued!

The air activity on 12th September begins in the now-familiar pattern. The morning is quiet but shortly after mid-day, Hostile 201, five hundred-plus, is plotted crossing the Channel. I respond by scrambling patrols to locations near its path, which I will vector to intercept only after the raid has split up and I can pick out what looks to be a formation of bombers without a close escort. In the meantime, I decline suggestions to scramble against the raid itself.



While the raid is still over London, the splitting up begins and I vector everything I can against a reported group of Dorniers. For the coming air battle, I join the six Hurricanes of 145 Squadron, which is the second or third patrol to make contact.

As we approach, the picture is confused. Several groups of aircraft are processing across the sky, there's a terrific Ack Ack barrage going off in the midst of them, and below all this, there's a dogfight in progress. It's quite a spectacle, but also difficult to decide what to do about it! I'm immediately reminded of the R/T message attributed to the leader of one of the squadrons intercepting the big 15th August raids on the north of England; when asked by one of his pilots 'Haven't you seen them?', the leader, known for his stutter, replied 'Of course I've seen the b-b-b*stards, I'm trying to w-w-work out what to do!' Such is BoB2's unique ability bring the Battle back to life.



Where in all of this are the unescorted Dorniers we came here to get? I'm still too far off to identify even fighters from bombers, let alone anything else. But my attention is drawn to three groups of specks which are moving rapidly out to my left. I don't much like the look of this.



The leading group turns into us - escorts! Messerschmitt 110s, I think. I break upwards...



...and inwards, issuing a hasty order to engage. Bombers are, for now, forgotten, as I turn into the 110s, being careful not to give them a head-on pass.



Turning tightly as the 110s disappear behind, I suddenly find myself facing two groups of Heinkels, who appear to be completing a turn to the left. This is too good an opportunity to miss, so in I go!



My firing pass cuts out a Heinkel, while the 110s, who are still in impeccable formation further behind, can only watch.



It's a decent start for me, but what are the others up to?

...to be continued!

As I come around for another pop at the Heinkels, I cut inside the shower of Messerschmitt 110s who are doing a not-particularly-good job of catching me.



The bombers are making a sustained turn to starboard and I have to bank steeply to get at them.



The Huns level out...and drop their bombs! I slide across to the left of the nearest bunch...



...and clobber one of their number, the crew bailing out promptly.



Now, where have those 110s got to? Oops, there they are!



Turning inside the Messerschmitts, I'm able to blast off the last of my ammo in another pass at a Heinkel, this time from a bunch with yellow rudders.



Looking back, I can see that a pair of 110s has latched onto me. I roll right, push the nose down gently and ease into a downward spiral at full power.



I can see barrage balloons in the direction I'm heading...



...and the Huns are still hot on my heels.



So I come out of the spiral dive and head for the river, aiming for the partly-built Battersea Power Station and feeling the heaviness of the controls easing off.



Beyond Battersea, I can see many familiar landmarks, including the Houses of Parliament, Big Ben and beyond that, St Paul's Cathedral.



But there's no time for sight-seeing - the 110s are still after me. Let's see if they fancy following me flying through Tower Bridge!



...to be continued!

Keeping the throttle nearly full open, I aim straight for the middle of Tower Bridge. Beyond, smoke is still rising from the recent raids on the docks, downstream.



Suddenly, yellow tracers flash in my mirror and hits whack onto my kite. One of the Huns is determined to get me and is keeping his nerve!



The enemy rounds tear off much of my elevators and smash the tailplane. Control lost, my Hurricane noses down...



...and smashes into the Thames, just on the far side of Tower Bridge. I never saw if the Hun who got me made it!

There are no more raids that day, so 12th September ends with thirty-seven enemies claimed, at the unsustainable cost of thirty-three fighters lost.



As the saying goes, if that was a victory, another one like it will be the end of us!

...to be continued!