Survival Against All Odds by John Misseldine

Author:John Misseldine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HISTORY / Military / Aviation
Publisher: Grub Street Publishing
Published: 2010-07-12T16:00:00+00:00

Two of the squadrons forming the ‘wing above’, the Hornchurch Wing, were 64 and 122 which, in the ensuing dog fight, suffered the loss of four Spitfires. Two pilots were killed and two were rescued from the English Channel. Of the Kenley Wing squadrons 602 lost one pilot killed and one aircraft badly damaged. This latter aircraft, Spitfire BM385, belonging to Sergeant WWJ. Loud (later wing commander DFC & Bar), was found to have no fewer than fifty-nine bullet holes in it.

It was on this operation that Squadron Leader Finucane, unofficially the highest-scoring pilot in Fighter Command with thirty-two victories, was to score his last combat victory, though claiming only a ‘damaged’. Born on 16th October 1920, he was killed in action, still not yet twenty-two years of age, on 15th July 1942, having been promoted to wing commander only days earlier, on 21st June, the youngest in Fighter Command. He has no known grave, and is commemorated on the Runnymede Memorial.

We crossed the French coast near Boulogne with 611 Squadron now flying at a height of 16,000 feet (Angels 16) and with me guarding the rear as ‘Tail-End Charlie’ to warn of any attack coming from the rear. Though I was occupied with this task, I had to maintain formation with the rest of the squadron, keep a check on the aircraft instruments and relate any landmarks that I could see with the map on my knees so that, if I became separated from the squadron, I would be able to navigate my return to the UK avoiding any dangerous areas. In addition, I was preparing the aircraft for possible contact with enemy aircraft by going through the routine of unlocking the safety catches on the armament, switching on the camera control, tightening the safety harness and mentally preparing myself.

As we swept round to the south of St Omer, I became aware of many aircraft climbing up from below but, before I could transmit a message on the VHF radio, I heard Squadron Leader ‘Paddy’ Finucane shout “Bandits 9 o’clock low”. This was immediately followed by my CO ordering our squadron, call-sign ‘Panther’, to attack in sections. The flight leader of Yellow section responded immediately, peeling off with his No. 2 following him. My Polish section leader, Pilot Officer Felc, Yellow 3, followed suit with me guarding his tail. We dived towards a large formation that I identified as a mixture of Me 109s and Focke-Wulf 190 fighter planes, and my leader headed for them. For the first time I saw tracer bullets being fired in anger, streaming from the more powerful machine-guns of an enemy aircraft. They were passing at an oblique angle well to the rear of us and didn’t seem dangerous. Nevertheless, I called my leader to warn him, only to find that he had decided to climb rapidly away.

I then made a fatal error.

I was torn between either trying to reform with my leader or take the classic evasive action of flying in a tight circle to turn and face my enemy.

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