Spitfire!

by Don Patterson

  "How tight can you turn?" The young Lieutenant shouted out loud.

  The Spitfire's wings tipped sharply as Gainy held the stick hard right. While he continued his turn, the German Me 109 fighters that had followed him so closely, began to spread out in the sky.

  Gainey found his answer! The Spit could circle tighter than the German fighters. Within moments, his tight turn allowed him to reposition on the tail of one of the Me 109s. Trying to concentrate, Gainey shook his head to stop the spinning sensation he felt from his hard turn. With a couple of strained blinks of his eyes and a deep breath, the young English pilot focused on his gun sight, preparing to fire upon the fighter that had threatened him earlier. Now it was the Me 109's turn to bank and roll, twist and climb in order to avoid Gainey's gunfire.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  REPAIR THE DAMAGED

  AIRFIELD!

  Together, Colonel Harrison and Harry Winslow watched the battle overhead from one of the anti-aircraft gun bunkers. The Stuka dive bombers had dropped their brutal payload of bombs and cleared the area, except for five that had been shot down by the RAF ground crew gunners. However, still continuing to attack from above were eight Me 109 fighters against the three Spitfires.

  Watching his pilots work to outmaneuver the German Messerschmitts, Harrison shouted, "Give it them back, lads! Show them the kind of pilots you really are!"

  While the outnumbered Spitfires valiantly battled above, Colonel Harrison's attention turned to the damaged airfield. Soon Dawson's squadron of fuel starved Hawker Hurricanes would be returning. Harrison knew they would need a place to land, and worried about the dangerous condition of the airstrip.

  "Pendleton," Colonel Harrison called to the busy sergeant feverishly feeding shells to the antiaircraft gun. "While our lads keep the Germans busy up there, I want you to mark out a smooth runway so Dawson and the rest of the squadron can land!"

  "Yes sir, Colonel!" Sergeant Pendleton replied and jumped out from behind the barking field gun.

  Pendleton raced to the maintenance hanger area to gather the additional men and equipment necessary to mark a safe landing strip. Surveying the damaged airfield, Pendleton shouted to the other men, "The west end of the field is the least damaged. We need 300 yards of smooth turf for the Hurricanes and Spits to land."

  The makeshift repair crews darted through smoke and jumped over bomb craters in order to make their way to the west end of the field. While most of the men began filling holes and removing debris, Pendleton placed large orange markers on the turf. The orange markers traced a safe landing lane the returning pilots would be able to see from the air.

  "Go get more men to help fill these holes!" Pendleton ordered to one of the crew. "If a wheel catches in a crater like that, it will pitch the plane's nose into the dirt."

  More and more men from around the base ran out to the field to help repair the landing strip. Up above, the three Spitfires struggled to protect them by engaging the menacing Me 109 fighters at every turn.

  Simms radioed the other two pilots, "Keep between the men on the ground and the enemy fighters, at all costs!"

  Each time an enemy plane would attempt a run on the field, somehow, at least two of the protecting Spitfire's countered with a hail of gunfire. Although Simms and his men were successful at warding off the German fighters one at a time, when the Me 109s regrouped above, it became clear that the Germans were changing their tactics.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  THE 14th SQUADRON RETURNS

  "They're going to run on the field all at once!" Hyatt warned Simms over the radio.

  Even though the RAF pilots had whittled the German squadron down, when Captain Simms looked up through his canopy, he could see the last six German planes regroup for another run on the airfield. Below, Simms watched the brave crewmen feverishly repairing the field while depending on the Spitfires to keep them out of danger.

  "We can't stop all six at the same time," Hyatt continued.

  In a determined voice Simms called to the other two pilots, "Do the best you can gentlemen. Let's at least shake them up!"

  At Simms' command, the three Spitfire pilots hurled themselves head on at the flight of attacking Me 109s. On the ground, Harry and Colonel Harrison watched the battle turn. The enemy planes raced to attack the men working on the landing strip. At first, Colonel Harrison quietly cheered as he watched Simms, Hyatt and Gainey close on the diving Me 109s.

  "Come on, Simms. Yes, yes, head them off ! Get as many as you can. We'll take care of ourselves down here."

  Then realizing there was no way the three RAF planes could hold off all six enemy fighters, Harrison shouted to warn his men on the airfield, "Take cover, everyone. Take cover!"

  Dropping their shovels and diving to the ground, the men on the field covered their heads to protect themselves as best they could. Colonel Harrison grabbed Harry and held him tight, prepared to sacrifice himself in order to shield the boy from harm. Harry, wrapped in the Colonel's arms, buried his head into the chest of the strong RAF commander.

  While the men below fell to the ground, roaring gunfire from the British Spitfires collided with two of the German fighters, stopping them well short of the cratered field. But an instant later, the distance between the Spitfires and the remaining attacking planes evaporated. Four of the menacing Me 109s screamed past the oncoming RAF planes, and continued their deadly run at the men on the field below.

  The Spitfires banked hard to correct their path in order to pursue the remaining Messerschmitts. But, it was too late. Even the powerful Spitfires couldn't turn fast enough to catch up to the German fighters racing past them.

  Sadly, the English pilots were too far away to be of any help to the men on the ground. As the four remaining Me 109s closed on the field, the helpless men below braced for the deadly crack of machine gun fire. The ear splitting roar of airplane engines intensified as the planes came closer and closer.

  Oddly enough, the thunder of engines roaring across the field seemed to be coming from behind the men as much as in front of them. Frightened, but even more confused, the men on the ground rolled over to see what was happening. When they peered into the sky, their eyes widened at the miraculous sight. Barely ten feet above them, the circular RAF insignia on the bottom of the wings of the 14th Squadron's rugged Hawker Hurricanes passed in a flash.

  Captain Dawson and his exhausted Hurricane pilots screamed over the pock-marked airfield. Realizing the life threatening situation, Dawson led the returning RAF squadron on a dangerous low level fly-by, racing to intercept the deadly German Messerschmitts before they could reach the men on the field.

  Like an arm sweeping dishes off a table, the line of sturdy RAF fighters swept across Hampton Field. Firing head on into the group of enemy planes, Dawson and his men forced the Germans to break off their attack. In a panic, the last four Me 109s scattered an instant before they reached their target.

  Amazed, the men on the ground climbed to their feet and watched the battle between the RAF and German planes. Thankful to be alive, the men cheered at the sight of the nine Hurricanes sending the last of the enemy threat running for home. In one well-timed pass over the airfield, Dawson and his pilots saved Hampton from disaster.

  After driving off the German fighters, the Hurricanes circled the airfield. Wary of any remaining enemy aircraft, they searched the skies above Hampton and surveyed the damage below.

  Dawson and his pilots save Hampton from disaster.

  Concerned with landing on the crater-filled runway, Dawson ordered his fuel-starved squadron to stay in the air as long as possible. Silently, he watched the ground crews feverishly work to repair the field before the exhausted planes dropped from the sky.

  "Form up on me," Dawson ordered into his radio, "including you, Spitfires!"

  The entire 14th Squadron regrouped, all of the pilots taking their usual positions in formation. When Captain Dawson looked to his right, he saw Captain Simms waving at him from the new Spitfire.

 
; Simms keyed his radio, "I guess now we know who gets to fly one first, eh Ted?"

  Dawson retorted, "If I knew the Spitfires were ready, I would have taken it easy!"

  "So you were pushing hard to get back," laughed Simms. "Were you worried about us?"

  "Worried?" Captain Dawson asked. "What harm could come with three RAF pilots watching over the place? It was just that our fuel gauges were getting low, old man!"

  "Well, we're all glad you made it back in time," Simms replied.

  Captain Dawson nodded his head and laughed, "It's nice to know you can still appreciate the Hurricanes!"

  Then he called to the rest of his pilots, "Listen up, gentlemen. The lads on the ground have marked the field for landing. Stay in the lane, and be prepared for some rough spots."

  On the ground, the anxious air crews watched the pilots skillfully land their aircraft on the narrow makeshift runway. The mix of Hurricanes and Spitfires made their way to the end of the field. With smoke still billowing up from the destroyed Hurricanes and the maintenance hangers behind them, the pilots lined their planes up along the west edge of the field and cut power.

  Captain Simms threw back the canopy of his plane and jumped to the ground. Ducking under the wing, he walked over to meet Hyatt and Gainey. The three pilots instantly began to blurt out stories of their experience in the new Spitfires. Simms teased Gainey and Hyatt about learning to fly a Spitfire the "hard way." More importantly, he understood just how lucky they were to have lived to tell about it.

  Further up the row of airplanes, Dawson stepped down from his Hurricane and was immediately greeted by Sergeant Pendleton.

  "Your timing was perfect, Captain!" Pendleton exclaimed. "You saved the day! And with Captain Simms and Lieutenants Gainey and Hyatt up in the Spits, those Germans didn't have a chance!"

  Dawson replied, "Our intercept at Dover took longer than expected. Funny thing, on the way I noticed something in the clouds. But once we joined the 62nd Squadron fighting the German formation, it never occurred to me another group was on the way to attack Hampton. After the fight there, we were running out of fuel and needed to land. When we got back to the airfield, we had no choice but to clear the way."

  Then Dawson added with a wry grin, "I'm glad you and the others were able to hold out as long as you did. It's sure lucky those Spitfires came from the factory fueled, armed, and ready to fly. Isn't it, Thomas?"

  Growing red-faced, Sergeant Pendleton avoided the Captain's question and began to poke at the numerous bullet holes that pierced Dawson's Hurricane. As usual, Pendleton complained about the condition of the battle damaged fighter plane.

  "Once again, I must say with all due respect, Captain, I am tired of fixing all the holes that end up in my airplane every time you use it."

  "Thomas," Dawson chided back with a smile, "hopefully you'll fix those holes better than the ones you fixed on the airfield today!"

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  A NEW MEMBER

  Five days had passed since the attack on Hampton Field. Although the RAF fighter base was fully operational again, Colonel Harrison was swamped with the paperwork involved to requisition repairs and replacement supplies. Working his way through the pile of tedious forms, Harrison welcomed the distraction of a knock at his door.

  Susan Winslow poked her head into the office and announced, "Colonel, Captains Dawson and Simms, Sergeant Pendleton and Mr. Harry Winslow reporting as ordered."

  "Thank you, Susan. Send them in," Harrison replied.

  Captain Dawson quickly stepped through the door. Right behind him, followed Simms and Pendleton. The RAF members snapped to attention in front of Colonel Harrison's desk. Finally, a timid Harry Winslow cautiously stepped into the room. He sheepishly assumed a position close beside Dawson. Standing in the doorway, just out of sight, Susan nervously watched.

  Harrison studied a report and after a long moment looked up from the pages.

  "Captain Dawson," the Colonel asked in a rigid tone, "are you aware that you violated RAF rules regarding dangerous low level flight when you returned to the airfield five days ago?"

  "Well...yes sir, I did," Dawson replied with a little hesitation in his voice. "But it was the only way we could intercept the Me 109s running on the field and protect the men."

  Colonel Harrison eyed Dawson, seemingly unimpressed with his reason for violating regulations. Harrison shifted in his seat to focus his glare on Sergeant Pendleton.

  "Sergeant Pendleton," Harrison barked, "are you aware that you violated a direct order by prematurely readying those Spitfires for combat?"

  Pendleton swallowed hard and replied, "Yes sir, but combat aircraft should be ready at all times. It could save a pilot's life."

  Again, Colonel Harrison seemed quite uninterested in any explanation. Then the Colonel stood up from his chair.

  Scowling at Captain Simms he asked, "Captain Simms, do you make it a habit to argue with your commanding officer regarding standing orders about piloting untested aircraft?"

  Simms began to stutter, searching for the right words to say. "No sir, I don't...well at least, not if..." Simms collected himself and finished, "We had to do something to save the base."

  Colonel Harrison shifted and looked out the window for a long moment, his hands clasped behind his back. He remained deep in thought. The only sound heard was the ticking from the clock on the wall.

  Finally turning to face the group who were nervously standing at attention, he said, "Gentlemen, I am somewhat distressed by your apparent lack of respect for my orders."

  Ashamed, the three RAF veterans bowed their heads. They had the highest respect for Colonel Harrison. Under no circumstances would they have disobeyed his orders without good reason.

  "Colonel," Captain Dawson explained, "we did what we thought was in the best interest of the squadron and its men. We truly believed we had good cause for our actions, even if they violated orders or regulations."

  Harrison looked at Captain Dawson and began to smile.

  "I know that, Ted," he replied in a fatherly tone. "All three of you acted according to your training and experience. As a result, you saved lives. I'm recommending each of you for the Distinguished Flying Cross!"

  The three men looked at each other, excited about their commendation, but more relieved that Colonel Harrison understood the reason for their actions. Then Harrison turned to the young boy standing beside Captain Dawson.

  "As for you, Mr. Winslow," Colonel Harrison resumed his commanding tone. "I have also reviewed a report by Captain Simms which indicates you saved RAF pilots and property by delaying the flight of three Hurricanes. And through quick thinking, you helped our pilots scramble the remaining Spitfires to defend Hampton Airfield."

  Colonel Harrison thoughtfully paused. He then continued, "This may be well and good, young man, however, I also have a directive here from RAF Fighter Command Headquarters. It demands strict adherence to policy regarding unauthorized personnel."

  Harry's head dropped and his heart sank. Undoubtedly, Harry knew he was the "unauthorized personnel" the policy referred to. The thought of not being allowed on base caused Harry to feel weak in the knees.

  Then Colonel Harrison sharply asked, "Captain Dawson, can you tell me the difference between authorized and unauthorized personnel?"

  "Only those wearing Royal Air Force wings are authorized to be on an RAF base, sir!" Dawson snapped in reply.

  Harry's stomach churned. Only the men and women of the Royal Air Force, those wearing the uniform RAF badge, were authorized to be on a military base. Twelve year old boys weren't allowed in the RAF. Fighting back tears, Harry wondered to himself if Captain Dawson would at least escort him off the base one last time.

  Colonel Harrison stared at Harry. After a long pause he said, "Then, Mr. Winslow, I order you to wear this from now on!"

  Confused, Harry looked at Harrison's outstretched hand. There, laying in the Colonel's palm was a brand new RAF wings badge. Not believing what was happening, Harry
looked at Captain Dawson. When Dawson smiled and nodded at him, Harry reached to take the embroidered pin from Colonel Harrison. Speechless, Harry could hear his heart pounding in his chest.

  Colonel Harrison continued, "All of you, listen. Contrary to what some people say, rules were not made to be broken! Rules were made for the safety and welfare of everyone. However, from time to time rules and orders might have to be reevaluated in light of particular circumstances. Thoughtful consideration of the rules and the manner with which they're applied is a sign of wisdom and the mark of leadership."

  Sensitive to the lost look on Harry's face, Harrison reworded his point. "What I mean is, sometimes a situation occurs where one needs to break a rule in order to do what's best. But, you'd better be sure there's a good reason."

  Colonel Harrison knew how important Harry was to the pilots of the 14th Squadron. Harry had proven himself a benefit to everyone at Hampton Airfield. As commander, it was Colonel Harrison's job to see that Fighter Command's orders were carried out. In this case, banishing Harry from the base would satisfy his orders, but all of Hampton Airfield would suffer for it.

  A true leader, Colonel Harrison had wisely found a way to do what was best for everyone. By awarding Harry a set of wings, he changed the young boy's status from unauthorized to authorized. There might be someone in Fighter Command who would consider giving Harry RAF wings as disobeying orders. Even so, Colonel Harrison believed, without question, it was for good cause.

  Captain Dawson bent down and softly spoke to Harry. "Colonel Harrison just made you my newest pilot officer. You're truly one of us, and we take care of our own. You're officially the thirteenth member of our squadron!"

  Harry's sister, Susan, excitedly stepped through the door to help Harry fix the RAF wings to his worn blue-gray jacket. After giving him a hug and whispering in his ear how proud she was of him, Susan moved to the side of the office and mouthed the words "thank you" to Captain Dawson and Colonel Harrison.