Chapter Three

The Battle of Britain

The next morning we were up before dawn. With the raid on London the previous day and with fires burning all night over the east end of the city, we viewed the coming day with some apprehension. While our resolve was absolute, one just couldn’t dismiss what we had seen and heard without wondering what was in store.

The squadron was at readiness after breakfast this Sunday morning, but the German bomber crews were obviously resting after yesterday’s efforts. However, some must have been up for around 10.45 we were scrambled, although I was not among them. Four Hurricane squadrons were sent up, 46 from Stapleford, 253 from Kenley, 504 from Hendon and ourselves. We had twelve aircraft and teamed up with eight of 253, that was being led by our previous flight commander, Gerry Edge.

Within minutes they were in contact with about 50 Dorniers, preceded by three Ju88s, the whole lot being escorted by up to 20 Me110s and loads more Me109s above and behind, with another 20 or so below the bombers. When the boys found them they were between Maidstone and Tunbridge Wells.

Archie went down after the Ju88s, while Bunny and A Flight attacked along the port side of a group of 25 Dorniers but before they could really get into position they were engaged by 109s. However, many of the bombers had started to turn back, although they did not drop their bombs. There was now what was to become a familiar mix up of British and German aircraft, everyone trying to do something nasty to each other.

Our CO – Churchill – didn’t see the enemy formation. McKeller had yelled for everyone to come on, get stuck in and hit these bastards, but Churchill just kept on going. They were approaching the Germans at a closing speed of about 500 mph. In the end, it was just a case of pressing the gun button, hoping for the best, and moments later they went over the top.

Jack Fleming was flying behind the formation acting as weaver. He had seen the 109s that were flying as close escort to the bombers, but failed to spot the others coming down behind him. His machine was hit and he managed to bale out but not before he had been badly burned. He became one of Archie McIndoe’s ‘Guinea Pigs’ at East Grinstead, in fact for many years he was Guinea Pig number two to Tom Gleave, in the famous club of theirs. He was to be with McIndoe for nearly a year as I recall, but he never flew operationally again. His Battle of Britain had lasted just one day – or indeed – ten minutes.

Jack – he was actually John – had been born in Scotland but his family had gone to New Zealand while he was still a child. Accepted for a RAF commission offered to graduates in British and Commonwealth universities he had sailed to England in May 1939 and after training joined 605 in August. In hospital with his injuries he found himself in a ward of a dozen pregnant mothers. Moved to the RAF hospital at Halton his case was deemed hopeless after he refused to allow doctors to amputate both legs at the hip. Luckily he was found by McIndoe who, seeing that plastic surgery was out of the question, suggested he might try his new saline bath treatment at his place in East Grinstead. With nothing to lose, Jack agreed. Recovery was slow but successful and within a couple of years he was a station armament officer at an OTU, and later, in Canada became Inspector of Bombing and Gunnery at several similar operational training units. He was made an MBE and at the time of the flying and rocket bomb menace in 1944-45, with the rank of wing commander, he was heading one of the special teams tracking launching sites. He was extremely lucky not to be facially disfigured and his hands survived too. I know he had to wear special thick underwear for the rest of his life (he died in 1995) having lost a whole layer of his skin from his body.

Fortunately, Jack was our only casualty in this the squadron’s first action from Croydon. When they got back and the pilots totted up their claims, the results were, Bunny one Dornier with a 109 damaged; Cooper-Slipper a 109 destroyed and a Dornier damaged; Alec Ingle a Dornier probably destroyed, and Jimmy Humphrey a 109 damaged. The Dornier bombers were from KG2, the 109s from JG53.

That evening Archie, Humphrey and George Forrester, ‘borrowed’ the station Bedford truck and drove up to London for a night out and a few hours to relax. The rest of us got an early night.

The next day, the 9th, the squadron was not in action till late in the afternoon. Take-off was at 5 pm and those pilots that were scrambled engaged 26 He111s from II/KG1 plus the usual escort of 109s, this time from JG3, and Me110s of III Gruppe of ZG76, near Farnborough. The formation was successfully broken up which prevented it reaching London. In all eight RAF squadrons nibbled away at these raiders as they passed over Croydon. The reason the Heinkels were seen to turn, was that the 110s went into a defensive circle, thereby leaving the bombers to fend for themselves. Later they dumped their bombs over Purley and Epsom.

McKeller came home claiming three He111s and a 109, while Bunny and Ricky Wright shared a 110. Archie’s exploit of downing four in one action naturally provoked much interest from the media, and it was also mentioned in at least one book, So Few, by David Masters, who must also have interviewed Walter Churchill who had witnessed the action. By this time everyone knew that Churchill’s eyesight was giving him problems in the air. Apparently as the squadron reached 15,000 feet Archie had called Churchill to report enemy aircraft ahead. At the distance they were, Churchill was unable to pick them out, only seeing about six Me109s above with 20 Me110s off to one side.

Churchill decided to try and draw off the 109s and to leave McKeller and the others a better chance at the bombers. Recovering from this skirmish, Churchill then saw McKeller’s section up-sun and turning in for an attack. McKeller pressed the gun button and Churchill watched as the Scot’s fire blew one bomber up and then this crashed into a companion and ripped its wing off. Meantime the first bomber swung into McKeller’s path and it went down pouring smoke from both engines, followed moments later by the third bomber, seen going down on its back.

Back at base the CO had apologised for messing up the initial attack, whereupon McKeller, never slow in coming forward, said:

‘Your sight is no good. You are too old – you’re an old man!’

‘I’m going on flying,’ retorted the CO.

‘You’ll simply be shot down,’ was McKeller’s blunt response.

‘All right, I’ll let you lead,’ and from then on McKeller generally led, unless he was absent at which time Bunny took over.

Bunny also shared a 109 on the 9th, but with another squadron. Again we lost a pilot, George Forrester. Jimmy Humphrey baled out of his crippled Hurricane and got away with it, landing near Bordon with a hand wound. However, as he came down he drifted over a Canadian army camp and was fired on by the over-enthusiastic soldiers, one bullet tearing through his tunic pocket and leaving a mark on the left side of his body. Once on the ground he was pounced on by several Canadians, who took his RAF buttons, his boots and maps, before sending him off to hospital. His hand wound was repaired but he lost his little finger. He did not get back to us until November and then he was posted off to other duties.

Forrester had joined the squadron up at Drem in early August. It appears that this 26-year-old lad had collided with a Heinkel 111 belonging to the Staff Staffel of KG53, that crashed at Southfield Farm, Chawton, near Alton, minus a wing. George crashed at Southwood Farm, near Shalden, and was buried at Odiham cemetery in Hampshire.

Somewhere about 1990 his brother got in touch; he was Major-General Michael Forrester, CB CBE DSO & Bar, MC & Bar. He had been three years younger than George and had seen considerable service, as evidenced by his impressive list of decorations, in Palestine, Egypt, Greece, Crete, Western Desert, Syria, North Africa, Italy and France, before going onto the Staff of 13 Corps and then commanding 1st/6th Queen’s Royal Regiment, ending the war as assistant to the Supreme Allied Commander, Mediterranean forces. Even post-war his list of appointments was equally impressive. He wanted to learn all he could about how his brother had met his end and we were able to supply as much detail as we were able. The Heinkel, coded A1+ZD, went in with three of its crew still aboard while two others managed to bale out.

From time to time I am asked about losing people and friends in the squadron and did I feel it very deeply and so on. Well, of course one felt it but on the other hand I’d only known some of these chaps a few weeks, sometimes less. They were not friends of long standing. Peter Crofts for instance, who was to be shot down in late September, was only with us about two weeks, so one didn’t really have the time to get to know him. I’d probably had a beer with him in the mess and that was about it.

By the time 605 got into the Battle we were more fortunate than other squadrons who had fought on during August, for we were able to receive replacement pilots and aircraft very quickly, so we always seemed to be up to full strength and complement. So in 605 at least there was never any thought that we were going to lose this fight. This feeling continued unabated into October too.

The squadron was involved in a 15.45 pm scramble on the 11th and engaged 40 or more He111s escorted by loads of Messerschmitts, between Rochester and Eltham, turning the whole mass back towards the south and west, so London was saved from this bunch.

After they had turned south, we were within sight of Croydon and those on the ground saw Bunny destroy a Heinkel that crashed just a few miles east of the aerodrome. In further attacks he damaged two more. Archie and Eric Jones chased another bomber out over Beachy Head but ran out of ammunition without being able to finish it off. However, they continued to make feint approaches at it, which must have so un-nerved the crew in their obviously damaged machine, that they baled out! This machine, from 2/KG26 lost one of its crew, but three others were rescued from the Channel by German air-sea rescue.

Cooper-Slipper managed to damage another Heinkel, Archie claimed a 110 probably destroyed, while our two Polish pilots, Jan Budzinski and Witold Jozef Glowacki destroyed a 109 and a 110 respectively. Both had come to us at the end of August, after a spell with 145 Squadron.

This raid, I should emphasise, was not thwarted by 605 alone, for at least six other squadrons got in amongst the enemy, giving them a severe mauling. 605’s only casualty was the CO, who received a slight flesh wound to one arm. That evening we celebrated the day’s activities with a dinner at our favourite retreat, the Greyhound in Croydon.

The next day was reasonably quiet after the hectic events of the 11th. There were a number of isolated reconnaissance sorties flown by the Luftwaffe followed that night by more raids on London. The squadron was scrambled at 13.45 but within minutes, nine were ordered to land again, leaving Red Section, led by Bunny, orbiting base. Circling at 3,000 feet below some cloud they were informed that three bandits were west of their position, approaching from a south-easterly direction at 11,000 feet. With his companions – Cooper-Slipper and Ricky Wright – Bunny began to climb and soon spotted what they identified as a Dornier 215 about six miles north of them, heading south-east at 8,000 feet. The German crew must have seen the danger for the bomber, which in fact was a Ju88, began to turn into them. Bunny was able to lead a head-on attack, which made the bomber’s crew jettison their bomb load and make a rapid turn to the south. They chased the Junkers over Hastings on the south coast and the pilot continued to flee hastily out to sea towards France pursued by our three stalwarts, who finally shot him down into the water eight miles south-west of Cap Gris Nez. The machine was from 1(F)/122, the ‘F’ standing for Fernauftkärungruppe (long distance recce unit). Its four-man crew did not survive.

That evening Gerry Edge came over from Kenley to take dinner with us. It was good to see him again and to know he was doing an excellent job in leading 253 Squadron right on our doorstep.

On the 13th Bunny was officially promoted to flight lieutenant. Again there was little hostile activity this Friday. The weather wasn’t too bad – bright intervals with showers, but there was rain over the Channel. The summer of 1940 was not all ‘wall-to-wall’ sunshine as some people seem to remember. Ricky Wright was credited with damaging a lone recce Ju88 between Tunbridge Wells and Hastings that afternoon. I was with him and got in a few shots at the fleeting machine, and I must have believed I had hit it for I noted ‘one Ju88 damaged’ in my log-book. Then I found myself in cloud and lost sight of Ricky as he continued the pursuit. I was flying Hurricane R4118, of which more later. According to Luftwaffe records there was a Ju88 from III/LG1 that was severely damaged over southern England and returned to its base with one wounded crew member, although I believe 238 Squadron had a similar claim. The Junkers was, in the event, so badly hit that it had to be written off.