Captain Dawson keyed his radio, "Men, we're off to help the lads in the 62nd Squadron beat back a formation flying for Dover. Stay on my heading and we should intercept just past the coast. It's my guess that the 62nd will get there a bit before us, so keep your eyes open for the fight."
The skilled pilots acknowledged Dawson's command. Then the radio fell silent while the airmen prepared for combat. Barely ten minutes out from Hampton Field, the nine Hawker Hurricanes roared across the northern end of the city of Dover. Dawson and his squadron continued east over the English Channel, in search of the enemy bomber formation.
Once more Dawson keyed his radio, "What's our motto, lads?"
Eight voices boomed in Dawson's headset, "Send them packing before they reach land!"
"Roger! I'm glad you all remember," Dawson replied to his fellow pilots.
Ahead of the RAF planes, clouds dotted the sky making it difficult for the British pilots to spot any other aircraft. Dawson squinted as he tried to see an outline or any movement that would expose the incoming enemy planes.
Then, from the corner of his eye, Dawson thought he saw something. Focusing his attention to the left of their formation, Dawson strained to see anything other than the swirling patches of white and blue. Blurred spots seemed to move along with the clouds.
A moment later, the radio crackled with the low voice of Lieutenant Collin Mathews. "Mathews here, Captain. There's quite a row up ahead, at three o'clock low."
Dawson leaned forward in his cockpit and looked to his right in order to see what the lieutenant had spotted. Mathews was right. In front, and a bit below right of the RAF formation, the sky was filled with airplanes in the throws of battle.
Just as Dawson had predicted, the 62nd Squadron had intercepted the incoming German formation first. With the targets now in sight, Dawson dismissed the blurred spots he noticed earlier.
"It must have been the reflection of our planes in my canopy," he thought.
The nine Hurricanes of the 14th Squadron rapidly closed in on the dogfight in the sky. Dawson counted twenty He 111 bombers, and with them, a fighter escort of a dozen German Messerschmitt 109s.
"Let's mix it up lads!" Dawson barked into his radio. "Break on my mark!"
Continuing his approach to the battle, Captain Dawson adjusted his goggles and shouted, "Break!"
Throwing the yoke forward and right, Dawson rolled into a dive. The rest of the pilots followed their Squadron Leader. In a split second, the 14th Squadron joined the pilots of the 62nd in their defense of Dover. The addition of nine more RAF fighters instantly created even more havoc with the incoming German formation.
However, the cunning Me 109 fighter escort sent to protect the German bombers refused to retreat. Regardless of being heavily outnumbered, the deadly Messerschmitts continued to swarm on the British planes. The raging battle filled the sky with crippling gun fire, trails of vapor, and danger!
