[caldrail]

06:00, 18th August 1941, Vayenga Airfield

Finally we got ourselves some rest. The hut was perishing cold during the night. Funny thing though, I kept hearing faint noises, and I couldn't really sleep. Dimitri, our chirpy Russian hut warden speaks enough english to make himself understood. He told us that the Germans were attacking the bridge at Ura Guba, though he wasn't supposed to know that. The batle has gone on for two days now. The Nazi's can't be more than fifty kilometres away.

We woke to another hazy day. The Russian are keen to throw us into the fray it seems, and as soon as we've had what little breakfast was available our liaison officer told us we needed to patrol Kilpyavr Airfield, to the west. Raymond has taken to calling him the Tour Guide.. Anyhow, we trudged across to the aeroplanes and with some cursing from our mechanics we got the engines started up.

Flying Officer Edmond Hesslyn has taken Carter Bishops place in my flight. Robust sort of chap, good at rugby. We took off and flew west with the sun behind us. Kilpyavr wasn't difficult to find. Orbiting at around 6,000 ft we waited for the enemy to appear.

Eventually I saw something coming from the south at higher altitude. A bomber perhaps, or a recce plane. At any rate we all began climbing after it. The crew must have seen us because they turned east and tried to clear the area. No such luck. The lads climbed better than me (I suspect my Merlin isn't running as well as it might) and once they catch up I can see tracer above. The target is a Focke-Wulf 189, the twin boom recconaisance bird. He's trailing fire from his left engine, and one by one the Germans bail out. The aeroplane begins to dive to the right.

"Who got that one?" I ask. It's Hesslyn, making his debut amongst us in style. We turn back toward Kilpyavr and resume our patrol.

Burbridge started yelling into the radio. German fighters? He's not wrong! They jumped us from the cover of cloud. I roll over and chase one, but he's too canny and climbs out of danger. Another flashes past my windscreen so close I can smell the burning oil. This is getting dangerous.



I choose a target and dive after him. He seems totally unaware of me. Closer... Closer... Too late, His Messerschmitt begins turning tighter. I try to stay behind and we snake around the sky. I fire my guns again and again, watching bits flying off of him, but he jinks upward and I can't follow. He gets away.

Tracer passes me and I pull hard into a corkscrew. A german is firing at me and I don't know where he is. I feel a vibration as bullets chew my left wing. Nothing serious, but that was too close for comfort. I see his 109 pass under me at speed. I want to go after him, deterred only by the other Messerschmitt coming right at me. I fire the guns again, a good long burst. Surely I hit him? His 109 zooms past my left trailing smoke.

By chance I see a 109 ahead, flying in a wide circle. As much as I try to close on this one I can't, he's making full use of speed and I can't match it. I try to cut across his turn and he sees my move, but now I gain an advantage. He sees the mistake and tries to throw me off. I fly closer and closer as he jinks left and right. At the last moment he rolls right and tries to dive away. I follow, much closer now, getting a bead on him... click.... My guns are empty! He gets away.

So do we. Discretion gets the better of us and we turn for home. I can see a 109 chasing us on a parallel course eight o'clock high, but he gives up and flies home too.

Landing at Vayenga, I discover Burbridge shot one down. A little later and the Russians confirm that I shot one down too, the pilot crash landing his 109E7/Z inside our lines. I don't fancy his fate. The Russians like the Nazi's even less than we do.