First blood

It's 10th July 1940, the date on which the Air Ministry will one day determine the Battle of Britain began. The British Expeditionary Force and undefeated elements of French forces have completed their evacuation from the Continent, covered with some success, but little appreciation from the 'brown jobs' (army), by the Royal Air Force. France has concluded an armistice with Germany, and the Luftwaffe has been building up and redeploying its forces for the inevitable effort to subdue Britain. Prime Minister Churchill has rebuffed Reich Chancellor Hitler's offer of peace. The Nazis will have to fight for their gains.

Fighter Command now waits for the first serious test of its highly-developed air defence system, designed to meet just such a threat as is now coming, though from bases just across the English Channel to the south, instead from the east across the North Sea in Germany. The test will start in the form of attacks by the newly-appointed Kanalkampfuhrer, Johannes Fink, Kommodore of Kampfgeschwader 2, commanding a force including Junkers 87 Stuka dive bombers and Messerschmitt 109 and 110 fighters, as well as KG2s Dornier 17s. Their mission will be to test the RAF defences and close the English Channel to the British shipping which daily plies its waters.

All this is unknown to the pilots and other members of No.54 (Fighter) Squadron, Royal Air Force. The squadron has already seen action over the Channel and learned that its Spitfires have the measure of the enemy's best. The Squadron is based at Rochford in Essex just north of the Thames Estuary. Rochford is a satellite airfield of the important base at Hornchurch east of London, from whose Operations Room a Controller will deploy the fighters based in his Sector of 11 Group, Fighter Command.

I will experience the upcoming Battle as the fictional Squadron Leader Richard Malan, CO of 54 Squadron, through the Single Pilot Campaign (SPC) in version 2.13 of Battle of Britain II - Wings of Victory. The SPC is a BDG addition to the sim which plays out the stock 'Commander' campaign in the background but adds the ability to name a pilot and then use filters to chose what squadron he flies with and when the player gets called to fly with it.



As 54's pilots and ground crews sit at each flight's dispersal areas around the perimeter track at Rochford on the morning of 10th July, two convoys are in the channel - convoy PILOT far to the west, and Convoy JAUNTY off the North Foreland. JAUNTY is just to our south-east, headed for the Straits of Dover. Along with 79 Squadron's Hurricanes, 54 is slated to provide air cover for JAUNTY, while other squadrons in 11 Group are at a high state of readiness. Clearly, we're not expecting the quiet spell we've enjoyed after the fall of France to last much longer.



Even before we're off the ground, a raid is reported heading for JAUNTY. All twelve pilots from both A and B Flights are in their cockpits on the grass landing ground, engines running, when we're ordered off to intercept. I'm at the head of my pack in KL-B 'Kiwi', in real life the mount of New Zealand Ace and author of 'Nine Lives', Al Deere.



Canopy open and throttle wide, I lead off, climbing out much too steeply in my anxiety to get away (compounded by not having made many take-offs in my recently-concluded 'Commander' campaign in BoB2). I also completely forget the drill for the R/T, on which I should report to the Controller that we're off the ground and in return, get a vector to our assigned raid.



Out we go, south over the Thames Estuary.



My own Red Section are tucked in nicely but the other three are soon on the R/T complaining they can't keep up and asking me to slow down. Oh come on chaps, there's a war on, don't you know?



I throttle back and level off for a bit...



...to allow the squadron to close up.



Faster than I expected, we find ourselves at fourteen thousand with the south coast just ahead and the prominent tri-angular headland at Dungeness to our left. I call up control asking for a Vector to the nearest enemies, but get no reply. Now what?



...to be continued!

At this point, I get a bit frustrated with the Controller's silence at my repeated requests for information on the enemy. Instead I check the map for the information he should be able to provide. This tells me our target raid is moving inland over Brighton to our south-west, and is already being engaged by another squadron.



I turn west along the coastline and there they are, silhouetted against the clouds. It looks like a gaggle of bombers with escorts above, and a dogfight going on in its wake.



Tally ho! I report my sighting to Lumba - the Controller...



...and order the boys to pick their own targets from the bunch directly ahead. I look for a suitable victimt of my own as I close in. The bombers seem to have vanished somewhere. All I can see now are Messerschmitt 110s. Some are flying away in neat formation, but the nearest ones are milling about like wasps from a disturbed nest, buzzing around scattered RAF fighters.



I spend several wild minutes chasing 110s all over the sky while getting out of the way of others which are chasing me.



Each time I manage to get a few hits on a Hun or chase one off a friend's tail, he wings over and dives away into cloud below.



After a while the skies above cloud are empty of all but scattered or distant aircraft. So I decide to descend and see for myself what's going on down below.



The answer when I get there is plain to see. The dogfight is in full swing just above the steel grey waters of the Channel.



Here we go again!

...to be continued!

I join the party, which seems to be orbiting around what looks like one or two trawlers. The skies are alive with aircraft, while others are ditched in the water.



By now the RAF has the situation well in hand. Everywhere I look, desperate 110s are being chased down by our fighters. Several Huns are already trailing smoke or flame. Dark patches on the surface of the Channel mark the spot where other aircraft have gone in.



I circle around for a while but see nothing but Huns being hammered. Every so often, another one piles into the drink.



In the end, I climb back up above the clouds to see if I'll be any more use there. Sure enough, I spot a 110 fleeing south and race after him. In a Hurricane, I'd probably not have caught him but in my trusty Spit, I gain ground steadily.



Got him! After a couple of short bursts the Hun bursts into flames and rolls over, going down like a comet.



I fly back to the coast and as I cross it, recall the boys. As for the results, from the raid we intercepted - Hostile 701, an estimated seventy-plus Messerschmitt 110s covering thirty Stukas, we're claiming a whopping seventy, for seven of our own, sadly including one pilot from 54. The squadron is claiming no less than fourteen Messerschmitt 110s Destroyed, with another ten Damaged. An attack on Convoy Pilot to the west has resulted in another sixteen claims for three losses. As my own log book shows, I've put in a claim for that burning Messerschmitt.



It was a bit of a confused start as regards the proper R/T drills and a pretty chaotic battle when it came, but not a bad start for Fighter Command in general and Fifty-four in particular

...to be continued!

My next sortie with 54 Squadron comes shortly before mid-day on 11th July. We're scrambled to patrol over Convoy Whiskey in the North Sea. It looks like we'll be in action - Hostile 101, sixty-plus, looks like it's headed straight for the convoy.



Once again, we're operating out of Rochford and putting up twelve Spitfires. In the distance, you can see the transmitter and receiver towers of Canewdon RDF station.



This time, I remember to tell the Controller (callsign Lumba, historically accurate for our sector, based at Hornchurch airfield) that we're off the ground. He responds by vectoring me to the east-south-east, full speed ('Buster') against a reported ten Bandits at a thousand feet.Strange - Stukas at low level after bombing shipping? Fighter bombers?



Ours not to reason why - off we go!



I slow down to let the others catch up, then up we go again. I'm taking no chances and want to get to about ten thousand.



There's some big clouds up ahead. I expect we'll see whatever it is, once we come out the other side.



There are some dark specks at about 3 o'clock, but they aren't moving. It's the balloon barrage over the naval base at Sheerness.



We fly out over the North Sea, but there's nothing to be seen.



I call up Lumba on the R/T to check if he has any trade for us, but the answer now is 'no'.



We orbit for a while but there's nothing doing. I try Lumba again, but he doesn't answer. Perhaps if I'd flown north-east instead towards the convoy we'd have found the Huns but it looks like they have been and gone. So around we turn and begin a slow descent back to Rochford.



The day ends with no further action and just nine victories claimed by Fighter Command. Bit of a washout!

...to be continued!

July 12th starts with attacks on Convoy EGG off Great Yarmouth in Norfolk. Fifty-four is not engaged, being tasked to patrol over two other convoys off the North Foreland.



Our first sortie of the day comes later in the morning. By this time, the two convoys are headed for the Straits of Dover and one of them, Convoy BOOTY, is being threatened by Hostile 101, a hundred-plus. No.152 Squadron is nearly there and 54 and 65 are to re-inforce them.



Off we go!



After reporting our twelve Spits airborne, controller Lumba tells me there's nothing in our vicinity. So I turn so the south towards the threatened convoy...



...passing over Sheerness on the other side of the Thames Estuary.



Our transit of Kent is uneventful...until, crossing out into the Channel after the apparently-retreating raid, I catch a brief glimpse of Ack Ack bursts down on the right.



But my attention is focused on a line of specks in the sky, ahead and slightly right. I turn in after them...



...and up we go in a gentle climb, oblivious to what must be 65 Squadron coming up on our right rear. I desperately want to catch the people out in front before they get too close to France!



...to be continued!

As we race south across the English Channel, I realise there's a much larger group of aircraft ahead and below the ones we're chasing...several groups of aircraft, in fact. That can only be the raid. So who is it that we're chasing?



In fact, we've been chasing another Spitfire squadron - 152, probably. They break up as we approach. With France now just ahead, are they giving up and turning for home? Or are they reacting to a threat I haven't seen?



I can't tell, so I press on. By now we're over enemy-occupied territory and I can hear flak banging away at us. Time to order the boys in!



A bunch of Messerschmitt 110s have broken off from the raid and are sweeping in on my right. 'B' Flight is supposed to look after the escorts, so I decide to press on, hopefully accompanied by the rest of 'A' Flight.



As the range winds down, I can see that the Hun bombers are Stukas. I slide across to the rear of the right-hand group...



...and tear into them. My first pass send one flipping over onto his back...



...then I'm up and away, taking a few hits from return fire and ignoring the flak.



A second pass sends another Stuka down in flames.



I seem to be on my own, so I call up the boys on the R/T. From their replies, it looks like everyone else has got caught up with those 110s. I turn back to join the party, climbing and jinking slightly to avoid the flak, which is intense. Too intense. Suddenly, I'm hit and wounded, my Spit flipping inverted.



I chop the throttle and manage to get out. By some miracle, my 'chute opens and I drift down towards the water just off the French coast. Is the war over for me?



...to be continued!

Well, it seems that BoB2's Single Pilot Campaign considers a pilot who has bailed out over water to have survived - and to have been recovered as if he'd landed in friendly territory, as Squadron Leader Richard Malan is back at the helm of 54 Squadron later on the same day, 12th August!

During mid-afternoon, 54 is one of several squadrons who intercept Hostile 401, sixty-plus attacking Convoy BOOTY as it proceeds west down the Channel from the Straits of Dover. This time, having got off the ground and set course to the south, with the Thameshaven oil farms on my right...



...I nervously tried out the map-based 'next waypoint' time acceleration feature and soon found myself over the south coast. Looking around, I suddenly see aircraft ahead, then more, against the clouds, at about 11 o'clock low. Flying in fours, they are - Hun fighters, by the look of it. There's what looks like a dogfight. I nose down and bank left, to get a better look.



It's the raid! Bombers as well as fighters! Red 3 spots them too and calls them in on the R/T.



Red 2 is also on the ball so rather than keep them waiting I let my hounds off the leash, trying to get them to go for the bombers - which are Stukas. We're not the first to arrive for this party, for one of the Huns is already going down in flames.



I spiral down after the nearest bunch of Stukas, who start to turn left across my nose, forcing me to break off my first approach.



By the time I come around again in a vertically-banked turn, the party is in full swing.



The Stukas are wheeling around like a flock of scared sheep, now turning to the right. As I turn after them, one is hit, breaks out of formation and comes back at me, missing me by what seems like a few feet.



I quickly pick out a target and sparks fly when I let him have it.



The crew wastes no time in bailing out. That's one down for me!



Like shooting rats in a barrel, maybe. But I'll be in a barrel if I don't watch out for the fighters!



...to be continued!

I clear my tail and come around for another go. The Stuka formation is being steadily whittled down, and the only fighters I see are Spitfires like my own.



There goes another Hun!



I pick one out but have to change targets to avoid Spitfires attacking on either side.



Who got this Stuka...



...is going to have to be sorted out later.



Another one is going down with part of one wing shot away.



It seems that there are only ones and twos left and it's become hard to find a Stuka that isn't being chased down by a Spitfire.



I get some hits on one and down he goes, leaving a light smoke trail.



I bank steeply, more to watch him go than clear my tail. The Hun is now going down vertically and I doubt he's ever going to pull out.



The formation we attacked seems to have been all but wiped out, but a second bunch is still looking for somebody to bomb.



Meanwhile, the escorts have woken up...



...and are counterattacking!



...to be continued!

My last attack used up my remaining ammo, so I hang around but stay high. Meanwhile, lower down and mostly out of my sight, the 109s, which are from I Gruppe, Jagdgeschwader 27, are belatedly hunting down Spitfires...



...with some success...





...though they're not having things all their own way.



Also involved are some Hurricanes...



...form 32 Squadron, complete with their distinctive over-sized identity letters.



The Spits are from two other squadrons. One is 610....



...who seem to be holding their own.



I recall back in the seventies building DW-K, in the form of Revell's excellent 1/32 kit.



The other squadron is 152, squadron code letters UM.





This enterprising pilot from 152 is stalking the surviving formation of Stukas, undeterred by the presence of a bunch of shepherding 109s...



...while this one is about to be clobbered by one.



I call up the boys on the R/T and ask them how they're doing. The rest of my own Red Section is free, others are still engaged, apart from a few ominous gaps. Unable due to the clouds to get a clearer picture of what they're up to, I let them run on for a little longer before ordering a recall. In the meantime I have to call a pause to the simming, and this is how things look with the big air battle for Convoy Booty still in progress.

My own squadron, 54, is claiming just two Stukas shot down plus four 110s, so it looks like I was the only one who wasn't held off by the escorts. In return, we've taken a real hammering - five Spitfires destroyed and one damaged and five pilots lost. Twenty-one defenders in all have been shot down, for total claims of thirty-six from Hostile 401. Convoy BOOTY has so far escaped damage. An earlier battle for Convoy EGG has seen huge claims of 89 against a different raid, Hostile 201.



After this drubbing, I fully expect that 54 Squadron could be moved to a quieter area - or even taken off operations.

Apparently, the BoB2 Single Pilot Campaign is best thought of as a variant of the Commander campaign with most (though not all) of the Commander-level actions disabled and instead, the ability to focus on flying with, and fighting the Battle in, a single, chosen squadron (or Group, or aircraft type if you want to get more offers to fly). Your pilot's loss will affect the squadron's efficiency if you're flying as leader and will be recorded in the Log Book, but your campaign can continue, unless you play 'dead is dead'. Which I will not, as I prefer to fly with my chosen outfit for as long as it's in the fight. How much longer that will be for 54, we will see!

In the meantime, I'll say it again - if there's a sim that does a better job of re-creating the thrill of WW2 air combat, or the scale and historical details of this particular air campaign, I haven't flown, seen or heard of it - BoB2 is still for me, king of the WW2 air combat sims!



...to be continued!

The next day, 13th July, 54 Squadron is scrambled to meet a raid whose likely target is Convoy BREAD, presently in the Thames Estuary just south-east of 54's airfield at Rochford. Calling the Controller after getting airborne, we're vectored to meet the raid over Kent.



There's the convoy, off the Isle of Sheppy.



My turn towards the raid takes us almost over our ships. I've lost a bit of time waiting for the squadron to form up but I don't want to let down the Navy, who probably know what's coming their way from the south.



And there's the raid! It's a big one, above us, and almost on top of the convoy! I report 'Tally ho!' to the Controller and order the boys in.



Stukas! And already, just beyond them, a squadron of escorts is breaking formation prior to coming to the rescue of their charges.



Our Spits are hanging on their props as the Stukas wheel overhead. Can we get to them before the 109s get to us?



...to be continued!

Concentrating on the Stukas, I've lost sight of the 109s, but I can hear R/T calls from the boys indicating they've been caught. Ahead, the dive bombers are beginning to peel off and I'm now desperate to get in at least one pass before the escorts get me too.



I manage to shoot part of a wing off one Stuka before he can dive.



He rolls over on his back and goes down. Meanwhile, his friends press on while an air battle between Spits and Messerschmitts rages in their wake.



More of the Stukas start their dives, most just bunting forward but some from a bank - there's none of this doubtful rolling inverted first, that has acquired the status of fact.



The steepness of their dives is most impressive...



...and the first bombs are soon released...



...and bursting amongst our ships.



I manage to avoid getting sucked into the dogfight and come around for another pass. By this time, the sky ahead is filled with Stukas falling like stooping falcons.



I manage to find one who hasn't started his dive and make sure that he never will.



For most of the others, it's too late.



Right - time to take stock before making my next move.

...to be continued!

I'm reluctant to lose precious height to go down just to chase the Stukas who have already bombed, for the sake of an easy kill. So I say high. As I'm studying a group of Ack Ack bursts over on my left, a bunch of 109s suddenly sweeps past across my nose.



They pay me no attention and I turn after them. Several of the 109s veer off to the right and I start to stalk them...



...until R/T calls from Blue 2 and then Green 1 indicate my presence may be needed elsewhere. So I reverse my turn and soon spot two separate air combats. The closest one looks like a Spit chased by a couple of Messerschmitts!



I reach them in time to shoot one of the Huns off the Spit's tail.



In doing so, I've lost sight of the Spit and the other 109, but I can still track the one I shot, even after he dives away. And when he climbs again, I'm ready for him.



I quickly get behind the 109, who plunges out of sight under my nose after I get a good burst into him.



Next second, he blows up!



No doubt about that one!

...to be continued!

What''s that going on over there? Looks like a Stuka Party in full swing - ragged groups of withdrawing dive bombers under attack by Spitfires. I've little ammo left no doubt, but I may as well use it up now.



I get some hits from my last few rounds but with uncertain results. A 'Damaged' at best, methinks.



I come around again to clear my tail. The Stukas are still streaming south and still under attack; one of their number has just flipped onto his back and is clearly not gong to make it back to France. For some reason. I hear on the R/T a transmission from Red 2 in EDEY squadron - that's No.17, flying Hurricanes - reporting bombers. His TR9D set must be off frequency; they did need frequent re-tuning in flight. Sadly the issue of the much superior TR1133 VHF sets had to be temporarily backed out.



I come up behind the Huns and then begin to swing out to one side. Meanwhile, more dive bombers are being hacked from the skies. The sight is a real tonic! And hopefully, any taxpayers down there who aren't underground will see that Fighter Command is giving them full value for money.



Look, there go another two!



In fact, any taxpayers down there are liable to think that the Germans are staging a landing by parachutists!



The attacks finally peter out - much to the relief of the surviving Huns, no doubt. Canopy hood slid back, I watch them go for a while. Just to see them off the premises, as it were.



Don't rush back! If you do come again, we'll be waiting for you!



...to be continued!

By now, the air battles having apparently ended, I'm flying south over Kent. I order the squadron to return to base and start a turn away to starboard. My route is littered with the burning wrecks of aircraft. And ominously, I can only raise one of the boys on the R/T.



As I cross the north shore of the Thames Estuary, smoke is rising from several locations on the far shore, including the Sheerness naval base. So it looks like the convoy wasn't the only target.



A few minutes more and I'm back over Rochford.



The good news is that Convoy BREAD is undamaged and that the four squadrons which intercepted the raids are claiming no less than forty down - three of which are down to me, namely a 109 and two Stukas. The bad news is that the squadron has been all but wiped out - ten aircraft and five pilots lost. I feel sure that 54 will be taken off operations.



By lunchtime, the convoy patrols are back on, but 54 is already 'released' and may soon be taken off ops altogether.



The Stukas have suffered severely with little to show from it. But the large escorts of Messerschmitt 109s have wreaked bloody havoc amongst the squadrons engaged today.



...to be continued!

My fears are realised when 54 Squadron is reclassified as Category C and transferred to 13 Group in the north, well out of the combat zone. BoB2 does not model operations across the North Sea by Luftflotte 5 in Scandanavia, the unsuccessful raids on 15th August being their only major contribution. So 54 has nothing to do, except groom replacement pilots for other squadrons and be ready to counter small-scale raids which BoB2 doesn't model, anyway.

I let the campaign play on at high time acceleration for a couple of game days, to see if 54's situation improves, but it's no dice. So I decide to 'transfer' my named pilot by selecting a different squadron as the one whose flights I'll be invited to join. I choose another Spitfire outfit, 72 Squadron - ID letters RN - stationed at Biggin Hill, south east of London.



After another couple of game days watching other squadrons fly convoy patrols and sometimes intercept raids on them, I decide to move the squadron to an airfield in the coastal belt, which is one of the 'Commander' campaign functions that's still available in the Single Pilot Campaign. I pick Hawkinge, which is close to the White Cliffs at the port of Folkestone, just west of Dover. Like all but a few Fighter Command airfields of the period, Hawkinge has a grass landing field, with no hard runways. We share our new home with 152 Squadron, also with Spits (seen in the background with one of the off-shade variants of Sky undersurfaces, light blue in this case).



Incidentally, one thing I don't think I've seen in any sim - except for one or two bases in CFS3 mods - is that RAF airfields were heavily camouflaged, especially in the early war years. Not just by painting buildings, but by camouflaging the runways and landing grounds themselves, typically by painting very dark-coloured hedge lines across runways and grass, and lighter colours on grass areas to give the impression of fields planted differently. Northolt at one stage had a painted-on river and pond, on which two swans were reported to have crash landed one morning!

My first combat from the new airfield comes on the morning of 19th July, when we're scrambled to intercept a raid, Hostile 101, likely headed for Convoy CRUST, plying the Channel just to our south.



It's soon after taking off that I come up hard against the disadvantage of being based so far forward - the raid is well above us while we're still climbing for height, just off the coast.



To make matters worse, the escorts suddenly come to life and drop on us like a shower of rocks....



...including these beggars in 109s.



I don't recall much about the subsequent fight, except that I alone managed to get at the bombers - Stukas again - claiming one destroyed by gunfire and a second by inadvertent ramming, at the cost of a wingtip but not my virtual life.

More is to come - the afternoon sees 72 as one of several squadrons scrambled to intercept Hostile 751, intent on bombing convoy CRUST which has by now reached the Thames Estuary.



...to be continued!

Once again, the strong escorts - 109s and 110s - get to us before we can get up to the height of the raid. You can see the bombers sailing serenely onwards on the right of the pic below, as I chase after a Messerschmitt 110.



The ensuing combat is hectic, to say the least. I get some hits on a 110, which rolls over and goes down, damaged at least but probably only temporarily out of the fight.



I've neither time nor inclination to go down after the Hun, for seconds later, I'm having to shoot a 109 off a Spitfire's tail.



Having done so, I'm treated to the spectacle of another Spit showing how it should be done, sending down a 109. From the R/T chatter, the victor is my own squadron's Green 2. Good show!



Thus inspired, I manage to hit and send down another 110, this time trailing some smoke. Hopefully, this one will stay down.



Right, now what? Between me and some groups of Ack Ack bursts, I can see a bunch of aircraft milling about. Friend or foe?



Foe, evidently! The aircraft up ahead start dropping into vertical dives. Stukas, obviously, bombing CRUST presumably.



I'm too far off to stop them, so I'll just have to find some other way of making myself useful!

...to be continued!

From the R/T chatter, fighting is still in full swing. To my right front, I can see a gaggle of what looks like Messerschmitt 110s. Worth having a closer look at, I decide.



The Huns settle onto a northerly course, towards a raid which is drawing Ack Ack fire. This gives me a perfect opportunity to sneak up behind them and send one of their number down in flames, with a nice no-deflection shot.



Breaking away to escape possible retaliation, I find myself chasing some other aircraft which are contrailing.



They turn out to be 109s this time and I try to repeat my surprise attack. This time I only manage to damage a Hun, who breaks formation and goes down. watching him, I'm contemplating another attack when I see tracers aimed at the 109.



His attacker is a Hurricane, who seems to be in control of the situation. I let them get on with it.



Climbing back up, I come across a Spit chased by another 109.



I manage to shoot the Hun off the Spit's tail, but lose sight of the enemy aircraft after breaking low.



Fortunately, the 109 has other things on his mind than chasing me. Like getting home before he runs out of petrol, probably.

...to be continued!

Looking around, my attention is drawn to two aircraft whose progress is marked by Ack Ack bursts. They're moving fast and one is a fair distance behind the other. I decide to take a closer look.



The aircraft are 109s and I chase the tail-end charlie into thin cloud. We probably both get a shock to find ourselves suddenly amongst a balloon barrage - at Sheerness, probably - but manage to avoid disaster.



The Hun breaks high and left when I get some hits on him. But I've fired off the last of my ammo and have to let him go.



Now it's my turn to get away. I race east at low level, down the Thames Estuary. Ahead is a convoy which was undoubtedly a target, but it seems not to have suffered much. Distant Ack Ack bursts in various directions mark the progress of enemy aircraft.



My tail is clear and I call up the boys and order them to return to Rochford. Our base should be just ahead to my left. At this point, I've forgotten that I transfered squadrons and am operating out of Hawkinge!



Up above, the skies are clearing. The Hurricanes of 605 Squadron are also forming up to go home. Looks like we're all done for now.



My own 72 Squadron isn't committed again and we end 19th July on a good note - seven 109s and four 110s claimed Destroyed, with the same again Damaged, in return for nothing worse than two damaged Spitfires. How that tallies with my collision on the morning sortie, I'm not clear, but i'm down for two claims from each interception. Overall, Fighter Command is claiming heavily against the two raids mounted on convoy CRUST. It's been a good day for the RAF.



...to be continued!

We're scrambled early on the 20th to deal with a raid, hostile 704, thirty-plus. It's another fine day as we begin to roll across the grass at Hawkinge.



Once across the coast, I throttle back and level off to allow the chaps to catch up. They're a bit slow off the mark, this morning. You can see Hawkinge to the right of my rudder tip as you look at it, and the port of Folkestone near my wingtip on the same side.



There's the raid! Looks like thirty aircraft, three groups in typical bomber formation. No sign of escorts, but they're well above us. And what's their target? This seems different from what we've seen from the Luftwaffe so far.



I report the sighting to the Controller, and am evidently able to make out that they're Heinkels. First time we've seen these types. What are they up to?



I give the boys - who are still lagging - the order to get stuck in and race after the Huns. The raid is now heading inland. If we don't get to them seen, they could reach their target, whatever it is - and it could be our own base!



Come on, come on!

...to be continued!

Ack Ack fire begins to target the Huns. Still no sign of an escort. Come on, come on!



By now, the raid is about over our airfield! Could Hawkinge be about to get a pasting, before we can fire a shot?

Just as I'm getting into range at last, we start flitting into and out of clouds. And the bombers start turning. That's ominous - have they bombed?



My aim is put off by the cloud and the bombers' change of course. All I can manage is to land some hits on one of the Heinkels before breaking off.



#%&*$# and blast! Where did that cloud come from? Never mind, time to have another go, while waiting for the rest of the squadron to start earning their pay too.



By the time I make another pass, cloud is getting in the way again. but this time I start one of the Heinkels smoking, and other Spits are at last joining in.



Pulling off to one side to take stock, I can see that the Huns are now getting a good hiding.



But what's this? There's a second group of Heinkels coming in from the Channel, three groups in a wedge instead of in line astern.



It gets worse! Banking hard left and looking down, I can see that Hawkinge has disappeared behind or under a huge column of smoke. The first group of Heinkels has bombed our base!



...to be continued!

I come out of the turn and find myself behind the second raid. seeing that it's now under attack - by Hurricanes, from the look of it - I rest a temptation to go for it.



The second raid is also composed of Heinkels, many with yellow rudders. They are pressing on inland, past the smoking ruin that is our own base.



Off to their left rear, the first raid is now withdrawing towards the Channel, under sustained attack by at least one squadron.



Ignoring some isolated bombers that are streaming home to France trailing smoke...



...I race to join in the attacks on the first raid...



...which is by now in fairly serious trouble.



As I come in, I can see that there's a regular conveyor belt of Spits coming in for stern attacks on the retreating Huns.



I get some hits on one of the Heinkels, but on running into cloud don't press my attack closely for fear of a collision.



Right, who's next? There's still plenty of choice.



I fire off my remaining rounds at this fellow, with results of which I'm once again not certain.



Then it's back north to the coast I go. A check on the R/T reveals nearly everyone else is also disengaged so I order a recall and fly anxiously back towards the pall of smoke that marks Hawkinge, Seen from the east and clear of most of the smoke, the damage isn't entirely as bad as it first looks. The sticks of bombs have fallen across the dispersal area on the west of the perimeter track and amongst some of the station buildings. The hangars and the dispersal area on the eastern side appear to have escaped.



This is the somewhat unclear picture by mid-morning. It doesn't look like the Intelligence Officer has sorted out the squadron's claims yet. One Heinkel is credited to me with another damaged, with four of our Spits damaged. The mission folder, however, shows 72 as the only squadron which intercepted Hostile 704 and making nineteen claims for three losses - which seems better to correspond with what I saw in the air.



The most significant thing is that the Luftwaffe has already shifted up a gear. As well as attacking convoys, they are now also hitting docks and our own airfields. Hawkinge is lightly damaged, and Lympne - a few miles west of Hawkinge and slightly further inland - has been critically damaged. The Battle of Britain has entered a new phase!

...to be continued!

July 20th is a busy day for 72 Squadron. Late morning sees us scrambled again from Hawkinge and when airborne, vectored to intercept a raid coming in from the south.



There it is - headed for Dover and under Ack Ack fire. At this stage, I'm out in front of the squadron...



...and before I can either get the boys to close up or get to the bombers, I find myself engaged by the Messerschmitt 110 escort.



After some inconclusive combat, I find myself in a position to have a go at the bombers after they have turned around and are headed back across the Channel.



The Huns are in Dornier 17s and their gunners give me a hot reception, including a round in the amoured glass windshield and more in the fuselage.



In return, I've knocked one of the Dorniers out of formation.



I call up the others on the R/T and try to get them to engage, without much luck that I can see. So I make another solo pass on the Dorniers...



...and despite hardly being to see through the damaged windshield, send another one down.



There are some 110s nearby, but they seen uninterested - except for one, who despite trailing smoke, comes after me. By now, my engine is surging, my ammo low, and this I can well do without!



...to be continued!

I push the nose down and run for it, leaving the raid behind and hoping the pursuing 110 will be a sensible fellow and go home with his friends.



I steer for the port of Folkestone, whose defences will I hope encourage the Hun to give up.



Sure enough, as we cross the coast, the 110 veers off.



At this point, despite my damaged kite and low ammo, overconfidence overcomes me. Deciding I now have the upper hand psychologically, I cut in behind the 110 and start shooting. Sadly for me, my rounds run out before I can knock him down.



To make matters worse, I find I have succeeded only in encouraging the Hun to come after me again. So I race across the short distance to our airfield, whose defences open up on the Messerschmitt.



I hastily drop my undercart and come in for a very short final approach, but as I'm lowering my flaps, rounds whack into my kite and down I go. I think it was the Hun who got me, but it's hard to be sure!

The net result is that my pilot log records my surviving a bad crash, in return for one of the three enemy aircraft the squadron is claiming, per the Squadron Diary. We've lost two aircraft and one pilot, plus two Spits damaged, so not a great show. But the day is young!



...to be continued!

Our third scramble of the days sees us sent up against thirty Junkers 88s, apparently unescorted. There they are!



It looks like they're headed for the port of Folkestone, but they could be after our airfield at Hawkinge, which is in plain view just beyond.



In my anxiety to get at them before them bomb, I again attack before the rest of the squadron has caught me up. This time, it pays off. Ignoring the Ack Ack fire from Folkestone's defenders, I make a determined and successful attack on one of the rearmost bombers.



Anyone not in the shelters down below will have a grandstand view. What they won't notice is that my spit has been hard hot by return fire.



Struggling to maintain control, I come around for another pass. By now, the Huns are in a turn to the left.



Some unit's air gunners are better than others, and these boys are hot stuff. I get some hits, but my kite is again riddled...



...and falls away out of control, before I be sure of my second victim!



I'm unable to regain control so I chop the throttle, slide back the canopy, then say goodbye to RN-B.



Behind and above me, the rest of 72 is at last getting stuck in.



Happily, my 'chute pops open and I get to watch the fight for a while.



Early indications are that we're claiming two bombers Destroyed and two Damaged, in return for one in each category of our own, with no pilots lost. Room for improvement there! To make matters worse, Hawkinge was the target and our base is is now badly damaged.



...to be continued!

The sun is dipping towards the western horizon when 72 Squadron is scrambled for the last time on what's been a long summer day. Our target is Hostile 951, thirty-plus, and coming pretty well straight for us.



At first sight, our airfield doesn't seem too hard hit...



...but once off the ground, the damage is more obvious.



I turn to the south with the boys close behind...



...and report that we're airborne to Sector Ops at Hornchurch. In response to my call, the Controller gives us a vector nearly due south and tells us to be quick about it - 'Buster'!



I see the enemy at once.



Unfortunately, by now the boys have fallen behind.



Hell! No matter. I report 'Tally ho!' to the Controller and just order the boys to get stuck straight into them.



Here we go!

...to be continued!

The Huns are in Dornier 17s and I race after them as they cross inland. Once again I'm not waiting for the boys to catch up. Or put off by the 'friendly' Ack Ack barrage.



They're turning! Likely, they've just bombed and I'm too late. There's no sign of fighters so in I go anyway.



This lot's air gunners are also pretty hot shots but I manage to knock one of the Huns out of formation before breaking away.



Looking down, I can see that they've just clobbered Dover.



The bombers are now flying west along the coast, before turning south for France. Let's see if I can do them some further harm.



Yes, there goes another one...



...but once again, I'm laced by tracers from the Hun gunners.



Time to go home! I bank around over Folkestone harbour. Our aerodrome at Hawkinge is just visible, top left.



I chop the throttle, slide back the hood and begin a decent back to base. Finally, a few other Spits have begun the nibble at the withdrawing raid.



They get a hot reception, too.



That will be our last sortie of the day - four times we've been up and in action!



This time, we're claiming three down and the same damaged, in return for two Spitfires damaged - I'm not sure why there's a difference with the Mission Folder's results. From readiness, intercepting raids aimed at coastal targets from coastal airfields like ours is proving a challenge, here at the narrowest part of the Channel! Nevertheless, the Squadron is holding up well so far, as regards fatigue and skill. Unfortunately, Dover is now rated as critically damaged.



...to be continued!

The morning of July 21st sees 72 Squadron, and its new companion at Hawkinge, 41, scrambled to intercept Hostile 701, sixty-plus, crossing the Channel at about its narrowest point.



For some reason, I ended up opting to fly with 41 instead of 72. Here I am in EB-Z at the head of the pack on the grass at Hawkinge, with 72's Spits, coded RN, in the background...



...and here I am just after taking off, with the Channel just ahead.



I call up LUMBA - the sector Controller, at Hornchurch - and let him know that Radpoe squadron is airborne. He responds by vectoring us to the south at maximum cruising speed ('Buster'). His estimates of height and strength of the raid, I've learned not to trust, so a rapid climb will be in order.



There's no sign of the raid yet so I ease off briefly to allow the squadron to catch up. Off to my left, I can see 72 Squadron, also heading south.



There's the raid! Well above and crossing our track at a shallow angle left to right.Looks like three double wedges of bombers, about thirty all told. I don't see any fighters.



Time to get a move on! Up and at 'em we go. 'B' Flight is lagging slightly but I'm not waiting any longer.



Blue Leader - 'B' Flight being Blue and Green Sections - is complaining, but I'm more interested in the fact that I can now make out groups of smaller specks around the bombers - they've got an escort!



This is going to be a dicey business!

...to be continued!

The raid sweeps overhead as I order the boys in - 'B' Flight after the escorts, leaving my own 'A' Flight to go for the bombers.



The bombers are Heinkels from KG 53...



...and the escorts 109s from I/JG 51, on either side and slightly lower. Rather a lot of them.



The 109s aren't just going to sit there while we go for the Heinkels. Some of them break away and come down at us.



To my surprise, the 109s keep on diving. Perhaps they're after 72 Squadron. I contemplate going after them...



...then decide to stick with the bombers. Even one knocked down means less bombs on somebody's head!



...to be continued!

The 109s are by now heavily engaged with Spitfires...



...from my new squadron, 41, but possibly also from 72, my former outfit.



This gives me the chance to slip in and shoot down one of the Heinkels.



But my Spitfire has been hard hit, and down below, the neighbouring fighter base of Lympne has been badly clobbered by the raid.



I call up the boys, but only two answer. Rather downcast, I order a return to base, then come around in a wide descending turn over the Channel on my way back to Hawkinge, my engine surging. The first of my survivors rejoins as I come abreast of Folkestone, while a heavy cloud of dark smoke still shrouds Lympne...



...which is still burning as I make my approach, with the other two Spits in the circuit nearby.



It's been a bad day for both of Hawkinge's two Spitfire squadrons. We in 42 have lost nine and six pilots, with one Spit damaged - my own, probably. For 72, it's been even worse, with ten aircraft destroyed.



Later that day, 72 is moved north and out of the combat area to 13 Group. And on the following day - 22nd July - I make the switch permanent by 'transferring' to 41 Squadron, which, though hard hit, still has enough operational aircraft and pilots to remain in the front line with 11 Group...for now...



...to be continued!

My first show after formalising my switch to 41 Squadron comes on the evening of 22 July. We're tasked to patrol over Convoy FELIX, which is just to our south. However, on reporting ourselves airborne, we're vectored to intercept an incoming raid; whether it's aiming for the convoy or not is unclear.

The ships are just offshore and can be seen immediately after takeoff.



Better gain some more height!



There's no sign of the raid yet so we begin to orbit the convoy, staying to seaward, from whence the threat is coming.



There's the Huns! Up ahead and coming in fast! I report them to the Controller and order the boys to attack.



The raid's composed of unescorted Junkers 88s. I reach their height just in time for a short crack from just off dead ahead...



...with little apparent effect. So I come around behind the Huns and go for the bombers on the outer left of the bunch.



In a devastating single pass, I send one bomber reeling out of formation and damage a second in front of him, which blows up just after I've passed through the formation!



But my Spitfire has been well riddled by the Hun air gunners. She noses down and begins a roll, not responding to the controls. Then I realise she's on fire! Time to get out!



My 'chute opens and I see nothing more of the fighting. It seems we got my two Junkers and damaged two others, in return for my Spit shot down. Not a great result - 41 will need to do a lot better than that, especially against unescorted bombers!



...to be continued!

The morning of 23rd July sees 41 and 607 Squadrons being scrambled to intercept Hostile 701, sixty-plus believed headed for RAF Manston.



Here we are about to take off from Hawkinge. To our left are the Hurricanes of 607 Squadron, who are now our companions at the airfield.



The vector we're given from the Controller seems to be a dud. After following it for a while, I turn the squadron to the left, along the coast.



There they are! Five groups of what look like bombers, well inland, with some smaller specks nearby - escorts. The group visible out to the right is I think 607, who took off just after we did and drifted off to the left.



In we go! The bombers are Heinkels and there are 109s just below them, leaving us an opening. They're all headed out to sea and have likely already paid Manston a visit.



I've already ordered the boys in and am gratified to see several Spitfires going in ahead of me.



Weaving to help keep my tail clear, I swerve out to the left of the nearest bunch of Heinkels...



...and get some hits on one of them before breaking off.



Coming around to finish off the smoking bomber, I see something more pressing - a Spit in trouble, with a 109 shooting the spots of him.



I hesitate for a moment then switch targets. I have to save that Spit - or at least, try!

...to be continued!

Loving these.

Very appreciated.

Thanks! BoB2 is still one of the best sims out there, there's few quite like it in so many respects.

I bank left and try to cut off the 109...



...but before I can get off a shot, the Spitfire goes down in flames!



Right - that's it. I'm going to get this b**tard, whatever it takes.

But the Hun isn't making it easy. He races off at full speed, making only the gentlest of turns. I just can't gain on him.



I stick with him though, and finally he makes a mistake, going into a steep climbing turn. I cut inside and clobber him, the pilot bailing out.



There goes the 109. The rear section of the canopy including the radio mast and the headrest armour should jettison with the central portion, but BoB2 isn't the only sim that doesn't get this right.



Time now to pay the price for a spot of target fixation. That price is closing from behind, in the form of three more 109s.



Well if a turning fight is what they want, that's what they'll get. After a couple of circuits I'm coming in behind the tail end Hun.



He tries to get away at high speed and I cut loose with a long-range burst, in an effort either to hit him, or force him into making a turn that I can cut across.



But I've spent too long on him, for the next second - Thunk! Thunk-thunk! Rounds hammer into my kite, which starts rolling uncontrollably - and goes on fire!



By now the drill is ingrained - chop the throttle, open the canpoy, wait as long as I dare, then get out. My 'chute pops open - I'm getting rather good at this bailing out lark.



For 41 Squadron, it's the second drubbing in as many days - and the end. We've lost all twelve Spitfires committed and seven pilots. What's left - two serviceable aircraft, two under repair and nine pilots - is transferred north to 13 Group, out of the battle for the foreseeable future.



...to be continued!

There's little point in sitting out the Battle in 13 Group, watching the campaign play out from the Ops Room, in the hope that 41 Squadron may be brought back up to strength and moved back south. So rather than giving up the campaign, I again transfer my pilot - or rather, the squadron with which I will get offers to fly.

This time I opt for 65 Squadron, ID letters YT. again, I'll be flying Spitfires and in 11 Group, but this time from an inland airfield - Hornchurch, just east of London and to the north of the Thames.



This is the squadron in which Aussie Gordon Olive served, as recorded and illustrated in his highly-recommended memoir 'Spifire Ace'. Supermarine test pilot Jeffrey Quill, 'poached' from Fighter Command by the company before the war, also flew ops with 65 for a time, during the Battle.



Our first call to arms comes on the morning of 24th July.



As we take off, you can see from the patches of rubble that Hornchurch has not escaped the battle unscathed.



I report that we're airborne to the Controller. Only later have I discovered that his reply, which appears to give an impossible vector to the enemy, is actually reporting the position of your own squadron, behind you! The low strength and altitude are giveaways.



Not then knowing this, I turn the squadron around...



...and lead us to the west, climbing above London's balloon barrage.



After a fruitless search and being unable to get an enemy vector from the Controller, I turn the squadron to the south.



Orbiting over the Thames Estuary, we get a sighting at last - a dogfight is going on, out to the east.



I turn towards it and open the throttle. A distant group of aircraft is proceeding to the south, with other aircraft milling about in its wake. What's going on over there? We'll soon find out!



...to be continued!

As we close the range, I see one aircraft go down, trailing smoke. I still can't make out friend from foe.



In fact, the main group is a bunch of 109s from II/JG 26, heading south for home.



Some of them are involved in combat with Hurricanes.



I order the boys in and our formation begins to break up. Over to my left, I see an aircraft chasing another which is trailing smoke.



Closing in, I see that it's a 109 pursuing a damaged RAF fighter, a Spit in fact.



Just as I'm about to give the Hun what for, he fires again...and the Spit blows up!



This is now personal! The victorious Hun quickly notices me and wisely, races off at full speed, leaving me in a tail chase. I try a long range burst, but to no effect.



The wily Hun avoids making any turns I can cut across, and seems to be trying to link up with others of his ilk, whose presence is revealed by Ack Ack fire.



Still on his tail, I see he's now headed towards the balloon barrage at Dover, the chase having now taken us all the way a cross Kent. To avoid the balloons and cables presumably, the Hun finally makes a steep turn....



...and I get some hits on him. Down he goes!



The 109 is damaged, but not out of it.



Suspecting as much, I stick with him. after another burst, the 109 wobbles, seems to lose control, and crashes in a field near a large barn. The score has been settled!



...to be continued!

The combat has truly taken me across Kent from north to south - orbiting to clear my tail and re-orient myself. I can see the port of Dover and the nearby RDF station.



It's clear from calls on the R/T that the squadron is still engaged and just to the north, I run into a fight between Spits and 109s.



I shoot a Hun off a Spitfire's tail then chase him out to sea.



After a couple of bursts, the 109 flips over, goes down, and smacks into the ground! I've got another one!



I'm soon chasing a third Messerschmittt just under low cloud.



But I know I don't have much ammo left. It runs out almost at once and when he breaks left, I break right.



I last see the Hun flitting into and out of cloud just above the Dover balloon barrage, chased by Ack Ack bursts.



His only thought is escape, apparently.



I don't think he makes it, though. I think that's him, going down over Dover. Looks like the air defence people got him!



After some serious hammerings at the hands of the 109s in 72 and 41 Squadrons, 65 have had a relatively good day - we're claiming nine of them shot down and as many again damaged, though at a price - two pilots and their aircraft, and another two Spits damaged.



At any rate, we're not struggling from a coastal airfield to intercept raids that are already on top of us, so I've high hopes for my time with 65!

...to be continued!

We have two further scrambles on 24th July. The first one is uneventful, inasmuch as we fail to locate the enemy.



An evening scramble brings similar frustrations, but this time we finally spot the enemy on his way home. The raid is approaching the French coast but I'm ready to take a chance in the hope of grabbing a kill or two.



I order the boys to have a go and they veer off to the right, while I steer left. Behind us, another RAF squadron looks to be giving up and going home. Sensible people!



Undeterred, I race on after the Huns.



The group on the left I'm after is a bunch of Dorniers. Despite being nearly over France, their air gunners are wide awake and start shooting. As do I.



Both sides get hits. My fuselage and port wing are holed, but my target comes off worse - a lot worse!



My Spit is hit again and I make a diving turn to get away as smoking Dornier parts fall from the evening skies.



I run for home with flak bursting all around me.



I draw out of range, but have a good few miles of Channel to cross. No point pushing our luck, I decide, so I order the boys to break off and go home. My engine is surging, the rev counter is flicking up and down, and oil temperature is rather high.



After what seems an eternity but is only a few minutes, there it is - Dear Old Blightly, looking lovlier than ever in the evening mist and setting sun.



All in all, it's been a good first day with 65 Squadron. And now I know to ignore the Controller after reporting airborne, and to get a vector to the target by requesting 'Patrol position' (radio command R-2-2) and 'E/A vector' (R-2-3) instead, as explained by Stickman here: https://a2asimulations.com/forum/vi...p=402198&hilit=radio+command#p402198

...to be continued!

25th July's first show for 65 comes in the afternoon. We're scrambled to intercept Hostile 202, thirty-plus, over Kent.



We're quickly off the ground from Hornchurch, which is battered but still in the fight....



...and racing after the raid, which is now heading back to France.



It's only in mid-Channel that we finally make contact. We're quickly sucked into a fight with the 109s.



Both formations are quickly lost. These Huns seem to know their business...



... and I have more than the usual trouble catching them.



So when I finally get one in my sights, I give him my full attention.



The result is that I'm caught and peppered from behind by another 109.



After that, I was lucky to get away. The squadron was also fortunate to avoid losses from those 109s, no kills being claimed. While our fatigue level is still rated as 'Excellent' and our skill as 'Regular', I have the impression that we're losing our edge!

...to be continued!

Later on the 25th, we again find ourselves chasing a raid back over the Channel. There looks to be three groups of bombers, two of which are beginning to turn, plus a cloud of escorts above and ahead.



I order the boys in, but already, a group of Messerschmitt 110s is swinging around to cut us off.



The boys are son engaged with the fighters. Sod it! I decide to have a go at the bombers - Heinkels - if I can.



Take that, you beggar!



The Heinkel slides out of formation as I break left.



Coming around for another go, I try to get the boys to attack the bombers...



...but instead of going for my first victim, I leave him smoking and swing out to the right. I'm going to have a crack at someone in the outside formation, on the right.



Got him, too!



My original victim is still struggling along, so I decide to try to finish him him off.



A few bursts is all it takes!



By now, I'm close enough to occupied France to be attracting flak. Time to go home, with two Hun bombers under my belt! A pleasant note on which to finish the day.