Swimming Home
A week after the raid, the Germans launched another attack on Dover. Again Jason led his squadron to intercept the Germans. He wondered what the they would throw now at them. The Stuka's were easy meat for the Spitfires. Would the Germans make the same mistake again?
Jason pushed the throttle forward, the sooner he would be above the channel the more time he would have to shoot Germans. Soon his squadron stumbled on the German aircraft. Jason recognized the typical Me-110 silhouette. It appeared the Germans had learned their lesson and provided their bombers with escorts. But none of the Me-110's came up to meet them.
Jason did not understand it. Why didn't the Me-110's attack and where were the bombers? Then he realized it, the Me-110's were the bombers! The Stuka's were too slow so the Germans had decided to attack with the faster and more agile Me-110. But a Me-110 slowed down by a pair of bombs remained a sitting duck for the Spitfires. Jason realised that this would be another turkey shoot like last week. On his command the Spitfires dove upon the Me-110's.
In their cockpits the German pilots looked upwards to the small Spitfires. They wondered if they would take the bait? There did they come. The Brits had taken the bait.
"Hier Schwalbe, halten sie formation, unsere freunde kommen"
The German pilots kept holding formation, despite oncoming Spitfires. The longer they held formation, the more time their friends would have to stalk the Spitfires. The rear gunners aboard the Me-110's were vital in the German plan. They had to warn their pilots when a Spitfire came too close, so that the pilot could slip his aircraft out of harms way.
But despite the best efforts of the rear gunners some Spitfires were able to break through the formation and take some potshots at the Me-110's.
Unaware of the danger, Jason dove right through the enemy formation. Some Germans tried to slip out, but just like the Stuka's they kept in formation. He wondered if all Germans had sort of a death wish. He singled out the leader of the formation and dove straight towards him, ignoring the tracer-fire sweeping across the sky.
The rear-gunner spotted the danger and warned his pilot, who immediately threw the Me-110 in a hard right turn. But its fate was doomed. Jason had anticipated the move and sprayed the fighter with bullets and cannon shells.
Soon the starboard engine of the Me-110 burst into flames, the propeller went mad and broke off, spinning towards the ground. The crew knew they were doomed. Slipping the aircraft away from the Spitfire, both pilot and gunner prepared to jump out. Before jumping out the gunner looked for the last time at their attacker and smiled, his fate would be sealed soon.
Jason followed his victim, satisfied that there would be one German less as suddenly bullets started hitting the fuselage of his aircraft. He immediately pulled hard on the stick to get out of the path of this deadly cloud of lead.
He spotted three Me-109 on his tail. His stomach ached as he realized they had been lured into a trap. He immediately warned the rest of his squadron to watch out for the German fighters. His pursuers were getting closer and closer, Jason could already spot the the cannon shells flying by his cockpit.
If he did not react fast enough he would be shot right out of the sky. He rolled his aircraft and pulled at the stick, diving away. But the three Me-109's were persistent and kept tailing him. Now Jason tried to out climb the Me-109's. He pulled hard on the stick, ignoring the tracer fire around him. His aircraft whined and cracked as it fought against the forward momentum.
From the corner of his eyes, Jason spotted the 3 German shadows overshooting him. Now he could turn on them. He pushed the stick forward... but nothing happened.
In the heat of the battle he had managed to stall his fighter! the Spitfire rolled onto its back and plummeted towards the sea. Jason tried to pull his fighter out of the deadly dive, but the Spitfire disobeyed his efforts. Jason screamed as he put all his strength in pulling on the stick, too no avail. The altimeter kept dwindling down.
Jason realised he had to get out, before the aircraft would be too low. He opened the canopy and pushed it back. The rushing wind got hold of the canopy and blew it away. But the wind also pinned Jason in the cockpit. He unbuckled his seat and prepared to jump out. He stuck his face out of the cockpit, only to be greeted by the rushing wind which blew his mask off and threw it against the tail. Jason slumped back into his seat. He was doomed. Jumping out would mean hitting the tail at full speed. In a vain attempt he kicked the stick. It was as if the Spitfire answered for the last time to its master. slowly the aircraft rolled over, still hurtling towards the sea. But now Jason could jump clear of the tail. With all his might he raised himself into the blazing wind and jumped out of the cockpit.
The tail passed inches from his head. But he had no time to lose. He pulled the ripcord, opening his parachute. With a hard shock his rapid descent was stopped. Below his chute he could follow the rest of the battle. The rest of the squadron managed to fend of the the Me-109's. On the ground, anti-aircraft gunners also started firing, chasing the Me-110's and Me-109's away.
After several minutes, Jason hit the icy water of the channel. He immediately tried to blow his life-jacket, only to discover that there was a huge hole in it. Did he rip it open when jumping out of his aircraft or did a German bullet came awfully close? Without a life-jacket he would soon drown if the cold did not get him first. But then he heard a ship engine behind him.
Some fishermen had seen the air battle and had sailed out to fish shot down pilots out of the sea. The boat stopped next to Jason, a cord was thrown to him and strong hands pulled him aboard.
"English?", asked one of the fishermen.
Jason nodded and somebody shoved a cup into his hands.
"Drink this lad, its rum, it will warm you inside". Jason sipped from the cup, shivering at the thought of how close to death he came. Looking up from the cup he saw the two figures sitting in front of him. They were guarded by a fisherman holding a shotgun. It were the pilot and the gunner of the Me-110 he had shot down.
Jason lived to fight another day, but these guys would spend the rest of the war in a POW camp. But that seemed not to bother them. At least themadness would be over for them.
End of this Chapter
