Perhaps Pat Hughes’ fatigue caused him to make a fatal error of judgment – that of diving in much too close, much too fast – and it has been suggested that the yellow-nosed Me 109 which suddenly ‘flew between’ van Mentz and the Dornier he was attacking may, in reality, have been Pat’s Spitfire. If so, the South African was likely to have brought them both down. He only had split seconds to react and he obviously did so instinctively.
Concentrating on his target in front, van Mentz would not have seen Pat’s Spitfire coming from above and behind, or from high on the beam, until it flopped in front of him. Likewise, as Pat came fast from above and behind, van Mentz’s aircraft would have been in the blind area under the wings of his Spitfire as he too concentrated on the Dornier.
If Pat suddenly realised as he was making his attack that he was being fired on from behind or the side, he may have instinctively jerked on the controls in a bid to evade but careered into the Dornier instead. The theory has credibility.
Looking again at van Mentz’s combat report, he did say that he ‘gave him [the apparent Me 109] a long burst and saw glycol or petrol start pouring from his engine. He turned on his back and disappeared.’ No explosion – and no collision! There was no mention either of the yellow-nosed fighter losing a third of its wing, but he may not have seen it as he continued after the Dornier once more.
According to his report, he saw the Dornier’s ‘port rudder come adrift’ and then he broke away. He did not mention the German plane going into a spin, or falling or a collapsing wing. Desmond Hall’s father saw the German plane ‘spinning’ straight down before what he thought was a wing come off but this apparently turned out to be the tail fin which was found some distance away.
One standout feature in the South African’s report is the description ‘yellow-nosed’. It is important. Presuming his snap observation to be correct, this eliminates the possibility of the aircraft being an RAF fighter. In the Second World War, yellow was a colour reserved mainly for RAF training aircraft. RAF day fighters over Britain at this stage of 1940 mostly had brown-green upper camouflage with sky blue, or duck-egg green, undersides. Identification letters were grey. The red, white and blue roundels were edged with a yellow band around the circumference, but these were on the fuselage between the cockpit and tail, not emblazoned on the nose or engine cowling.
The yellow-nosed fighters over southern England in 1940 were the Me 109s of JG 2. For van Mentz to have seen the yellow, the 109 must have actually come from the side and across in front of him in some manner as even such a bright colour would not have been readily seen from behind. He was also a veteran of the fighting over France and Britain with Me 109s to his credit so he was familiar with them – his aircraft recognition would have been more trustworthy than most others.
Picture Brian van Mentz closing in behind the Dornier, concentrating on lining up the target in front of him when the other fighter suddenly came into his peripheral vision. A splash of yellow – Fire! It was possibly a full deflection shot, or close to it, so the incoming fighter would fly through a shower of .303-inch bullets. It rolled onto its back then and disappeared from sight emitting white glycol or fuel, or perhaps pulling vapour. All of this would have happened in an instant.
If glycol or petrol started pouring from his victim’s engine, there must have been some physical damage. This has reportedly not been backed up by physical evidence from the Spitfire’s wreckage or crash site. But how much evidence would there be – a bullet, or bullet hole, or holes? How obvious would a .303-inch bullet hole be amid such wreckage?
Interestingly, as van Mentz broke away a bullet punctured the glycol pipe of his own Spitfire but he managed to land safely without further damage. Presumably it was return fire coming from the damaged Dornier’s gunner, or possibly from another gunner in the bomber formation. Perhaps the plane that van Mentz caused to stream glycol or fuel managed to land safely too.
Two excavations were carried out at the site of the Dornier crash over the years and they turned up many remarkable finds. Among numerous other relics there was a cowling fastener with a .303-inch cartridge case lodged in it, a Bramo radial engine, and a propeller boss with a damaged blade still attached, but damaged by bullet holes. Obviously the bullets responsible had been fired from a British gun, or guns, but whose gun, or guns? Were they from the guns of Ellis Aries of 602 Squadron; George Peters of 79 Squadron; Pat Hughes of 234 Squadron; Brian van Mentz of 222 Squadron; or somebody else yet again?
If it is accepted that the Dornier 17 was under control before Pat attacked, although straggling below the rest of the formation, there is little doubt that it was Pat who delivered the final death blow. When the physical evidence of the cartridge case being found lodged in a cowling fastener is considered with the propeller blade damage, it tends to confirm that Pat’s firing was concentrated on an engine and wing, causing them to shed debris until the wing outboard of the engine finally collapsed.
When the outer wing did collapse, it became the largest piece of debris flying back at the attacking Spitfire – Pat’s attacking Spitfire, not van Mentz’s attacking Spitfire. It sliced like a blade into the Spitfire’s wing shearing a third of it away.
Is that really what did happen that fateful day?
*
Pat’s funeral was held six days later in Hull on 13 September. He was buried by the RAF in the churchyard of St James’ Church of England in the parish of Sutton-on-Hull.
A week later, Kay realised she was pregnant, but she still could not stop crying …
18
AFTERWARDS
In Berlin on Sunday 8 September, all the morning papers carried the headlines: ‘BIG ATTACK ON LONDON AS REPRISAL.’1
The bombing of London stopped at 4.30 a.m. local time. After the twelve-hour ordeal, people emerged, shell-shocked and silent, from their shelters. The air was full of fumes and smoke as the fires along the dock areas burned freely. Hundreds were dead and injured and many homes had been reduced to rubble. The stark horror and reality of total war had been driven home. Air raid wardens, rescue workers and volunteers, including many Australian soldiers on leave, dug amongst the ruins searching for the injured. Three main railway stations, including London Bridge, Waterloo and Victoria, were out of action.
Unconfirmed rumours of invasion were rife – but there was no invasion. Early morning reconnaissance planes revealed that no fleet of German barges had crossed the English Channel or even set sail. Nevertheless, anti-invasion patrols were stepped up all along the coast as far north as the Shetland Islands.
The weather was fair early and in the late evening but the Luftwaffe made only a few minor raids on airfields.
During the morning Keith Park flew in his Hurricane over the smoke-shrouded British capital. His immediate reaction was one of anger but at the back of his mind he saw a glimmer of hope. If the Germans continued to strike at London and left his airfields unmolested there just might be a chance …
*
In Australia, the Secretary, Department of Defence Co-ordination, received the following message on the teleprinter from the Secretary of the Prime Minister’s Department on 9 September 1940:
Cablegram from the Under Secretary of State Air Ministry London dated 8/9/1940. 7.23 p.m., received 9/9/1940:
IMMEDIATE FROM AIR MINISTRY P.933 8/9/1940:
Regret to inform you that Flight Lieutenant Paterson Clarence HUGHES is reported as having lost his life as a result of air operations on 7th September, 1940. Please inform father, Paterson Clarence Hughes, 43 Kingston Street, Haberfield, New South Wales.
F/Lieutenant Hughes’ wife has been informed.
As a result of this message, the following telegram was drafted and sent to Pat’s father on 9 September:
Deeply regret to inform you that your son Flight Lieutenant Paterson Clarence Hughes is reported as having lost his life as result of air operations on Seventh September (.) The Air Board joins with the Air Ministry in expressing profound Sympathy in your sad
bereavement (.) His wife has been informed.
The Hughes family was stunned by Pat’s death. His cousin, Lawrence Lucas, who was still living at Frankston in Melbourne on Port Phillip Bay, recalled that his mother ‘went to pieces’ when she received the news that her brother had been killed. It came via a telegram sent by other members of the family.2
The afternoon the telegram came I was playing football in a sandy lay-by off our street when a member of our class rode up to us on a red PMG bicycle. During the course of the conversation he said he had a telegram for the Lucases. He refused my offer to take it to my mother on the grounds that it had to be handed personally to a responsible adult. I accompanied him to our home where the telegram’s contents were revealed. My sister was visiting friends, and our father was not yet home.
With my mother in a state of almost collapse, and with one eye on the main chance of being allowed to return to the game, I asked if she was all right and could I return to my mates. I don’t think she even heard me, but I took her expression as permission and left the house.
Although only eleven, in hindsight, I know that I had been tried and found wanting.
I also know that if it had been Pat and his mother, he would not have asked. He would have stayed. That’s the difference.
But Pat’s death was not the only shock. ‘His wife has been informed’ – the family was not even aware that Pat had married!
One of Pat’s sisters, either Constance, Marjorie or Valerie, wrote to the Royal Air Force to find out more, and Percy wrote to the RAAF authorities in Melbourne seeking further information.
4th October 1940
Dear Sir:
I am writing respecting the death of my son Flight-Lieut. Paterson Clarence Hughes who was reported as having lost his life during air operations in England on the 7th September 1940.
In the official communication it was announced that ‘his wife has been informed’.
The fact of my son’s marriage has come as a complete surprise and I have no details regarding his wife, with whom I am anxious to get in touch.
I will be obliged if you could furnish me with any details regarding the date of marriage, the name and age of the wife and her present address.
Certain business matters have to be attended to and it is necessary for me to have this information for their completion.
Thanking you in anticipation of your early reply.
Yours faithfully,
P. C. HUGHES
Percy’s letter was acknowledged on the 11th but three more weeks passed before a final reply arrived:
23 OCT 1940
Dear Sir,
With reference to your letter dated 4th October, 1940, and my reply there to dated 11th October, 1940, relative to your late son’s wife, I now desire to inform you that information has been received stating that her maiden name was Kathleen Agnes Brodnick [sic] and her address ‘The Buck’ Treyarronn Bay, Cornwall. Her age is not known.
Yours faithfully,
(Sld.) N. T. Goodwin
Squadron Leader,
OFFICER IN CHARGE OF RECORDS.
The following month, another letter arrived. It was sent to Pat’s sister and the family by Bish Owens, 234 Squadron’s Adjutant.
Dear Miss Hughes,
I have your letter of the 23rd September 1940. First of all, may I express to yourself and your Mother, my sympathy and the sympathy of the Squadron in your sad bereavement. Your Brother had been serving with me in this Squadron since last November, and words are almost inadequate to express our feelings at his loss. By his heroic work and brilliant leadership he helped to bring the Squadron to the unique position in which it was placed on his death; we now have to our credit 80 enemy aircraft.
He was always enthusiastic on the job of work to be done, and in the work of leading his Flight, and at times the Squadron, he was always there, ever keen that his colleagues should do their best and follow his wonderful example.In his personal relations and influence with all the members of the Squadron he was an inspiration whose memory we shall always cherish. It will scarcely be possible to replace such a gallant leader and lovable colleague and friend. As some measure of reward and recognition, your Brother was awarded the D.F.C.
With reference to your enquiry I have to inform you that your Brother was married on the 1st August 1940 at the Register Office, Bodmin to Kathleen Agnes Brodrick. Her present address is 384 James Reckitt Avenue, Hull, Yorkshire.
I am enclosing herewith photograph of some of the members of the Squadron.
Thank you for your good wishes and I shall be most happy to hear from you again. Please let me know if there are any further particulars I can let you have.
Kind regards to yourself and your Mother.
Yours sincerely,
F/O and Adjutant.
While this exchange of letters was going on, changes took place for 234 Squadron in England in accordance with Hugh Dowding’s edicts of 7 September. On 11 September, four days after Pat and Spike O’Brien had been killed in action, a much depleted 234 Squadron was moved back to St Eval where it was quieter. Alan ‘Budge’ Harker recalled, ‘Only about three pilots and five aircraft from our original squadron had survived to return to St Eval. I was quite twitchy myself by then.’3
Cyril Page had been placed in temporary command with ‘Morty’ Mortimer-Rose and Keith Dewhurst acting as officers commanding ‘A’ and ‘B’ Flights while the squadron waited for replacements. The squadron had to be regarded as Class C. It had suffered such losses in action that made it obviously due for rest and the training of new pilots. A number of experienced pilots were ‘milked’ from the squadron to provide replacements for those units about to go into action or already in action.
Zbigniew Olenski transferred across to 609 Squadron at Middle Wallop before 234 Squadron left. Keith Lawrence, the New Zealander, was posted to 603 Squadron at Hornchurch on 9 September, and the next day George Bailey followed him there. Staying with squadron for its return to St Eval were Bob Doe, Mike Boddington, Ken Dewhurst, Alan Harker, the other New Zealander, Pat Horton, and Ted Mortimer-Rose of the originals, plus the other Polish fliers, Zygmunt Klein and Jozef Szlagowski. Bob Doe did not stay for long. He was posted to 238 Squadron and went back to Middle Wallop on 27 September. Nor did Zig Klein stay. He was posted to 152 Squadron at Warmwell on 5 October. Jozef Szlagowski was posted to 152 Squadron a couple of weeks after Klein but the pair were not together for long as Klein was reported ‘Missing’ on 28 November.
The threat of invasion had been a false alarm. The invasion didn’t come the night Pat Hughes and Spike O’Brien died – but it seemed that it had to come soon.
By 14 September the Luftwaffe commanders had noted erratic British defences over the previous few days. The English seemed to be weakening. The RAF must be running out of fighters. Actually, the Luftwaffe’s pre-occupation with bombing London and its failure to continue attacking the RDF sites and Fighter Command’s airfields was helping the RAF to recover.
Next day, 15 September, the Luftwaffe launched two massive attacks on London. They were beaten off with heavy losses. The BBC claimed 185 German planes had been destroyed. Post-war figures were put at sixty-one German aircraft destroyed for thirty-one British fighters lost. This would become known as ‘Battle of Britain Day’, marking a pivotal shift in the fortunes of the Third Reich.
Two days later, although PRU photographs showed that despite RAF bombing there were 600 invasion barges assembled at Antwerp, 266 at Calais, 230 at Boulogne, 220 at Dunkirk, 205 at Le Havre and 200 at Ostend, Hitler postponed Operation Seelöwe. The RAF had obviously not been defeated and adverse weather, unsuitable for launching an invasion, was forecast for the coming week.
The Führer had missed his chance.
*
When Kay realised she was expecting she was so pleased, but at nearly four months she suffered a miscarriage. She and Pat would have had a son, but it was not to be. ‘After that I didn’t care about anything except getting drunk,’ she
said when interviewed years later, ‘and playing Pat’s favourite record, Where or When, tears streaming down.’4
Eventually the crying did stop and she realised she had changed – from a romantic girl into a woman. There would be no more tears. She did not even cry when she was presented with Pat’s posthumous Distinguished Flying Cross at a ceremony two years later in June 1942. ‘The King gave me Pat’s DFC. Other widows were crying. I wasn’t, every tear in me had poured out in 1940. I still feel dreadfully upset but no tears have come since.’5
By then she was a WAAF. Kay had returned to Hull to live with and care for her Mother. When the city was bombed she volunteered to drive an ambulance, and after that she joined up because she hated the Germans and wanted to serve.
Pat had told her to marry again and after the war she did. She met an army officer who had been a prisoner-of-war and for three or four years there was happiness and two lovely children, both sons. Then came adversity when he left the country. She and her sons were stranded and penniless. She had to seek a divorce. A third marriage which proved loveless also led to divorce.
It was early in 1949 that Kay was visited in England by two of Pat’s sisters, Valerie Hughes and Muriel (Midge) Tongue. Their expensive trip had been planned by the family for quite some time. Valerie was single and an accountant who paid her own way, but Midge was a Kiama housewife and was reputed to have saved for years by placing threepences in old fashioned, wide-necked milk bottles to achieve about £20 per bottle. Laurence Lucas recalled, ‘The other sisters helped out with Muriel’s expenses. I know my mother did. It was considered a joint tribute; if you couldn’t go, you could contribute.’6 They had arrived by ship, the SS Arcades, and were anxious to meet her at last.
Pat’s brothers, Fred, Charlie and Bill, had joined the Australian army during the war and served against the Japanese: Alfred (Fred), a sergeant in 2/12 Field Company in Malaya; Charlie, a private in Australia; and William (Bill), a corporal No. 3 Wireless Section in New Guinea. Fortunately, all survived but for some time little was known about Fred’s fate because he was captured with the fall of Singapore in 1942 and was a POW for three years, including toiling on the dreaded Burma railway. After the tragic loss of Pat so early, Fred’s disappearance was of grave concern for the whole family, but it was a special hardship for their stoical mother, Caroline. The tangible relief when news finally came through official channels that he was alright may have been too much for her. Caroline died shortly afterwards at the Anzac Memorial Hospital in Katoomba, New South Wales on 27 September 1945.
A Spitfire Pilot's Story: Pat Hughes: Battle of Britain Top Gun Page 25