Unsuccessful at damaging any allied ships, the German raiders turned east and headed home. While the rest of the squadron patrolled the sky looking for any remaining enemy planes, Captain Simms followed the trail of smoke left by Dawson's battered Hurricane. Searching the area, Simms felt a wave of relief when he spotted the open parachute of his wounded friend. And yet, flying in his Spitfire, all he could do was helplessly watch the drifting pilot float down and settle into the sea.
Circling over the patch of ocean where Dawson hit the water, Simms realized he couldn't watch over the downed Squadron Leader for long. Low on fuel, he and the other RAF pilots would have to leave the area before they could ensure his safety. Simms urgently radioed Coastal Command to inform them of Dawson's location. Hopefully, they would quickly launch a rescue and return him to Hampton before dark.
It was up to Captain Simms, as second in command, to lead the remaining planes in Dawson's absence. He was the Squadron Leader now. Weighing the safety of the rest of the men against that of one downed pilot, Simms knew he had to order the squadron to return to Hampton. The RAF pilots were a family. Abandoning a fellow flier was painful, but sometimes necessary. Short of fuel and ammunition, if enemy fighters were to attack now, the entire squadron would be lost.
After contacting Coastal Command, Simms ordered his pilots to return home. As the squadron turned west without Dawson, the heart of each pilot sank. Nothing more was said for the rest of the flight.
Less than twenty minutes later, the planes of the 14th Squadron roared over Hampton Airfield. On the ground, the command officers looked up to the sky and the aircrews rushed out to the hardstand. While the Hurricanes and Spitfires approached the field to land, Colonel Harrison automatically counted the planes. Alarmed to see only eleven returning, he headed to the airfield looking for answers.
The pilots landed their thundering fighters on the grassy runway and taxied to the hardstand. With the usual flurry of activity upon their return, flight crews swarmed on the planes. Before the propellers stopped spinning, the eager mechanics set to work refueling the tanks and rearming the guns.
Spent from the mission, Captain Simms slowly rolled back the canopy to his Spitfire and jumped to the ground. The other pilots raced across the hardstand to talk to him. Noticing the frenzy, Colonel Harrison stopped short of the field. From the distance, Harrison searched the mob of pilots for Captain Dawson.
"Surely," Harrison said to himself, "Dawson can explain what's going on."
On the hardstand, Captain Simms stood among the rush of people wanting to know what happened. Even the ground crews were asking about Dawson. Simms grew hoarse trying to explain. While answering all of the questions thrown at him, he noticed something that made him stop.
On the other side of the hedgerow fence stood Harry Winslow. Simms could see the young boy's eyes search the crowd gathered on the hardstand. Without a doubt, he knew Harry was looking for Captain Dawson. Simms also knew Harry was searching in vain.
When Harry's eyes met Captain Simms', the fact that Dawson hadn't returned with the squadron became painfully apparent to both the boy and the veteran pilot. Standing alone on the hill, Harry's knees went weak and tears swelled in his eyes. His most special friend, Captain Dawson, was lost. Sadness devoured the twelve year old. Desperate for comfort, Harry turned and raced home.
Simms watched the broken-hearted boy run back up the dirt path leading away from the airfield. Frustrated and angry, he turned from the mournful crowd and whipped his head gear to the ground. Tired of the chaos on the hardstand, Simms stormed off to meet Colonel Harrison and explain the situation.