I suddenly realised that it was getting lighter. The fog of smoke above our heads was thinning out. The Hurricanes had finished laying the smoke. Another Ju. 52 was coming in. Above our heads the sounds of machine-gun fire had become almost constant, and behind the throb of the circling troop-carriers was the high-pitched drone of fighters diving and twisting and climbing. A pale light filtered into the pit. And in a moment I could see the eastern sky all flushed with the light of the sun, which not yet risen above the horizon. The edge of the smoke, banked up in dark-brown billows, rolled away from the pit like a curtain, revealing a cold sky tinged with bluish green. To the east of us I could see a dozen or more big Junkers flying round and round in a circle, nose to tail for protection. It was not light enough yet to see the fighters, scrapping high overhead. But I could see one fighter diving on the formation of Junkers, letting rip with his guns and zooming away again.
‘Look!’ Langdon nudged my arm.
I swung back to the landing field. The breeze had freshened and the bank of smoke was rolling back fast. But it still covered two-thirds of the field. The light of the searchlight seemed fainter and farther away now that we were standing in daylight. And it showed another troop-carrier below the smoke. It had come through the smoke sooner than the others, and the pilot had time to see the danger. The roar of his engines as he revved seemed to shake the pit. But he scarcely lifted at all. Only his speed increased. He banked and his wing hit the hangar. The whole scene looked unreal. It was like watching a show. The presence of the smoke seemed to put a barrier between ourselves, who were standing in daylight, and the ‘plane and the hangars, which were in artificial darkness and lit by artificial light. Rather a similar effect to that of the footlights in a theatre.
The plane crumpled up much as the others had done. But there was a sudden explosion and a great sheet of flame was puffed up into the smoke. In an instant the flames had spread to the hangar. The belly of the smoke glowed red. It was a fantastic sight — the twisted, blazing wreckage and the flames licking up the battered side of the hangar. I thought I heard screams. It may have been my imagination. But I knew men were dying in that inferno, dying a horrible torturing death. The thought sickened me. I had not become sufficiently imbued with the bestiality of war to feel exultant, though I knew they were dying because they had come to destroy us. It was either them or us. I knew that. But it didn’t prevent me from feeling a direct responsibility for their death.
The next ‘plane coming in was frightened by that red glow. Its engines revved up and the sound began to come towards us. Suddenly it appeared out of the smoke, its wings balanced at a crazy angle as it banked. It was coming straight for us.
“Plane!’ yelled Langdon. ‘On, on,’ came the voices of the layers. And the barrel of the gun began to follow the target as it banked round and away from us. Langdon waited till it was side on to us and then ordered, ‘Fire!’
The gun cracked and before the flames of the charge had ceased to spurt from the barrel, it seemed, the shell had exploded. The noise of it was almost as loud as the noise of the gun. At that range it was impossible to miss. Langdon had judged the fuse range nicely. The shell burst just in front of the ‘plane. The wings folded down and the whole ‘plane seemed to disintegrate. The fuselage split in half. I saw men falling out. The wreckage strewed itself among the trees in the valley.
The smoke had rolled back now and exposed the whole aerodrome. It lay on the south-western edge of the ‘drome like a low cloud. It was getting really light now and the high cloud above us was tinged with a delicate pink. Against that lovely colouring little dark dots darted in and out amongst each other like flies.
All round the ‘drome big cumbersome Ju. 52s circled and circled incessantly like vultures waiting for their prey to die. And amongst them the fighters droned like angry hornets. To the northeast of us there were more over Mitchet.
What would they do now? They were full of troops, not bombs — thank God! I half expected them to sheer off homeward now that their plan had failed. But they continued to circle. I wasn’t sure whether they were undecided or whether they were waiting.for something.
But we were not left long in doubt. Some twenty German fighters, who were still flying in formation well above the dog-fight, went into a dive. It was Langdon who first pointed them out to us. He had been searching the sky with his glasses.
They came right down to the north of us. Only when they were at about two thousand did they flatten out. Then they began to circle, and one by one they dived out of their new formation and came straight for the ‘drome.
I had no doubt of their intention. Nor had Langdon. ‘Take cover!’ he yelled. And we flattened ourselves in a bunch against the parapet nearest the approaching fighters. He crouched down too, but he kept his head just above the sandbags so that he could see what was happening. There was a sharp burst of machine-gun fire and a second later an ME. 109 shot over us. The Bofors pit to the north of us had taken the full force of the first attack. From the other side of the ‘drome came the sound of a similar attack.
Then came the high-pitched drone of another German fighter. The staccato chatter of guns. The cinders on the floor of the pit kicked and little holes appeared in the sandbags opposite where we lay. One of the sandbags above me fell on my tin hat, covering me with sand. Zoom! The ‘plane flashed overhead. All round the ‘drome Lewis guns and Bren guns opened up, adding to the confusion.
‘Layers on,’ Langdon shouted above the din. ‘Fuller ammunition. Chester number six. Remainder stay under cover.’
I peeped over the parapet as the three men detailed sprang to their posts. A troop-carrier was just coming in to land. ‘Fuse one. Load. Fire!’ The drone of another Messerschmitt approaching could be heard even above the noise of the gun. We must have fired at practically the same moment as the other three-inch. There were two bursts just in front of the ‘plane, mixed up with streams of tracer shells from the Bofors. I saw it plunge. Then I ducked as the pit was sprayed again.
By the grace of God no-one was hit, though Langdon got his face cut by a bit of flying cinder.
Three times this happened. Each time we destroyed a ‘plane. The fourth time I found myself laying. Red had been killed outright, a bullet through his head. This had happened as we destroyed the second Junkers. The third time it was Blah who was hit. He got a bullet through his arm. Fuller got one in the foot.
Three twin-engined ‘planes appeared out of the north. At first we thought they were Me. 110s. But suddenly Langdon cried, ‘They’re Blenheims.’
And Blenheims they were, thrown in as fighters to make weight in the emergency. They came in at about two thousand feet. And high up we saw a squadron of Spitfires fire on the Messerschmitts that had been worrying us.
Then suddenly Junkers and Messerschmitts turned for home, the latter circling the troop-carriers to cover their retreat. It was all over in a few seconds. One moment the sky was full of Jerries and the din of battle. Then the sky emptied. The throb and drone of ‘planes died away. A great quiet settled on the Station, in which the crackle of the flames at B hangar was the only sound. I leaned back against the gun. Peace at last. It was over.
I think I passed out then. I didn’t faint. It was just that the reaction left my mind a blank. I wasn’t conscious of sound or sight. I came to to find Langdon getting the casualties to the sick bay. And the Tannoy was announcing: ‘All clear! All clear! All ground defences and gun teams will remain at the alert. All clear! All clear!’