Dogfight (17 page)

Aside from fighting the Luftwaffe, Park was now engaged in a rearguard action within Fighter Command. At issue was his deployment of single squadrons to meet large formations of German intruders. Leigh-Mallory argued that it would be better to combine three to five squadrons together, then attack en masse. In this he was supported by one of the Second World War's best-known fighter pilots, Acting Squadron Leader Douglas Bader, 242 Squadron. An above-average fighter pilot, Bader had lost his legs showboating in a biplane in the early 1930s. Tenacious and talented, he had incredibly re-entered the RAF's flying arena. Like his boss, Leigh-Mallory, Bader chafed at the handmaiden role assigned to 12 Group. In response to incoming attacks he wanted to form up some sixty fighters over 12 Group's Duxford headquarters, and then head south to intercept the German aircraft.

In principle, Park was not against the use of the so-called ‘Big Wings', especially since he had deployed them in sweeps over Dunkirk a few months earlier, but he felt that the situation over England was of an altogether different nature. The proximity of 11 Group to the enemy precluded the luxury of being able to form up large formations, something even the more distant 12 Group was not immune to, as demonstrated by its 24 August failure. Assembling a Big Wing could take all of 45 minutes, by which time the enemy formation had arrived, bombed the target and was France-bound again. Park also considered radio technology inadequate to the task and that controlling such large numbers of fighters at any one time would prove difficult and increase collisions or incidences of friendly fire.

While Park agreed in theory that it would be good to meet the large German formations with similar-sized defensive units, it was just not possible to do so in a timely manner. In spite of the smoke over Hornchurch and North Weald, the latter having lost its messes, married quarters and some of its stores buildings, both remained open for business, more by good fortune than any effort by 12 Group. More willing to aid Park was the commander to his south-west, where Sperrle was launching an attack.

At the end of the day, 10 Group was called into action to intercept a southbound raid. Unfortunately the newly repaired Ventnor radar station was experiencing teething problems, the size and structure of the enemy intrusion was increasingly unclear, and the plots erratic. In the resulting chaos the pilots from Middle Wallop's 609 Squadron ‘found themselves
5000 feet below a large formation of bombers and fighters, right in the middle of ... [their] own AA fire.'[10] The controllers had been operating under the mistaken impression that the raiders were low-flying Stukas and had thus vectored the fighters over Portsmouth into a maelstrom of their own anti-aircraft fire and leaving them vulnerable to enemy fighters.[11]

At the fringe of the débâcle was 234 Squadron and New Zealander Keith Lawrence, who spotted seventy enemy aircraft heading out to sea. He overtook the departing twin-engine fighter and fired a lengthy burst.[12] The starboard engine sprouted tar-coloured smoke, but Lawrence was unable to confirm its destruction in his after-action report. In the meantime, 609 had extricated itself from an almost impossible position, and although they did not have a single claim to add to their score sheet, they had survived with the loss of only one pilot. On the ground, however, the German bombers had cut a deep scar across the face of Portsmouth. Over 100 people were killed and a further 300 badly injured. It was the most destructive raid of the entire battle to date.

For the Germans, 24 August demonstrated the worth of dropping the slow and protection-hungry Stukas, and the strategy of running along the Sussex coast and making false jabs inland which had stretched Park's resources. Luftwaffe commanders were pleased with the day's effort and their ability to break through to the inner airfields at speed. The first day of the new phase was a stand-off, with Fighter Command losses numbering just over thirty destroyed or damaged aircraft against the Luftwaffe's forty-eight. The greater losses for the Germans were somewhat made up for by the fires burning at Hornchurch and North Weald.

Although the fighting for the day appeared to have drawn to a close, in fact the Germans were planning a late-night visit. An hour before midnight some 200 bombers breached Channel airspace and raced for their targets in Kent, Sussex and Surrey. In a turn of events that would set in motion a series of reprisals ultimately changing the course of the battle, bombs destined for an aircraft factory in Rochester and the Thames Haven oil storage facilities in fact fell on London. Göring was livid—Hitler had expressly ordered that the city remain off-limits to Luftwaffe bombs. Nevertheless, the die was cast and in less than twenty-four hours Berlin felt the ire of British bombs for the first time.

Two days later, after continuous intense fighting, a large number of Anzacs were once again in the thick of it. Kesselring directed his morning assaults against the southern fields of Biggin Hill and Kenley, and his early afternoon attacks on Hornchurch and Debden. In a replay of 24 August, Sperrle launched a strong foray against Portsmouth before the evening was over. At 11.00a.m., fifty-two bombers escorted by twelve Me 110s and eighty Me 109s made landfall over Dover. Among the seventy-odd machines scrambled to meet this force was Flight Lieutenant John Hewson, 616 Squadron.[13] The Australian had responded to the call for Bomber Command volunteers to make up the falling numbers in Fighter Command. His brief familiarisation with his Spitfire did little to prepare him for 26 August. Vastly outnumbered, the squadron climbed to gain a modicum of advantage over a formation of fifty Me 109s, only to be bounced by another formation of Messerschmitts numbering no fewer than thirty. A deep swath of destruction was cut through the squadron, and of the twelve machines half were lost, with the death of two pilots and three wounded. Given his inexperience, Hewson was fortunate to scrape through the combat unscathed.

As the German bombers pushed further inland, Park was left with no alternative but to thrust the Defiants and their handful of Anzacs into the centre of the battle. The squadron was scrambled from Manston to face an incoming force of He 111s and Do 17s and an ominous escort of eighty Me 109s. It was just after midday when the forces clashed. Young was once again surveying the sky for intruders just after midday when they entered the storm. His pilot described in detail their ensuing engagement.

For the loss of three Defiants, 264 had accounted for six Do 17s and an Me 109. Not a bad effort considering the one Hurricane squadron that did take on the bombers unhindered had failed to bring down a single aircraft but had lost three members. Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time before the Defiants were again tragically exposed.

Two hours later, radar picked up signs of enemy preparations west of Belgium. It looked like it would be the day's big raid, so Park put up ten squadrons. Then, when it became apparent that Hornchurch, North Weald and possibly London were the targets, he sent the remainder of his force into action and once again called on 12 Group to cover his northern fields, as his fighters went to intercept the raiders. The enemy split into a northern and southern fork. The former hit Debden, scattering buildings, destroying an aircraft and killing three airmen. Once again Leigh-Mallory failed to provide timely cover and 19 Squadron arrived only after the bombers had departed. This was in spite of the fact that Duxford was barely ten miles from Debden. The southern fork felt the weight of Park's fighters and when the Me 109s were forced to abandon the bombers due to low fuel, the attack was turned aside. Bombers scattered their load over the English countryside to lighten their aircraft for the dash home.

Amongst the fighting of the early afternoon, Olive managed to panic a flock of Me 110s. Patrolling near Manston, Olive's B Flight of 65 Squadron corralled the machines into a ‘defensive circle' of about thirty aircraft:

Chastened, the enemy pilots re-circled their wagons and the Queenslander resumed his position above. Each time one of the heavy fighters attempted
to disengage, the Australian chased it back into position. The cat-and-mouse game only concluded when the fuel gauge forced him to break off the torment and return to base.

In a repeat of events two days earlier, Sperrle attacked Portsmouth around 4p.m. with a force of some fifty He 111s attended by a fighter escort of over 100 machines. New Zealanders Harold North and Patrick Horton, natives of Dunedin, who had been clerks in, respectively, a law firm and the Mines Department only two years before, were there to meet them. North was flying a Hurricane as part of the Tangmere-based 43 Squadron and Horton a Spitfire in the Anzac-dominated 234 Squadron at Middle Wallop.

North, who sported Douglas Fairbanks-style combed-backed hair and pencil-thin moustache, was the first into action. The Squadron attacked six bombers near Portsmouth. As North passed through the enemy formation, he was nearly struck by hastily jettisoned bombs from panicked He 111s. After damaging one Heinkel, he in turn was badly hit by cannon fire. The shells shattered the Hurricane's Perspex canopy; shards were embedded in his arm and shoulder and cut his forehead. A curtain of blood threatened to obscure his vision. North stripped off his helmet and attempted to staunch the flow with his free hand.[16] Tenaciously, he attacked another bomber only to be struck himself again, this time from the rear. He baled out east of Portsmouth, breaking his finger on impact. He was duly picked up and dispatched to Royal Sussex Hospital, Chichester. These new injuries, combined with a series of health issues, most notably kidney troubles, aged him prematurely.

The New Zealand writer Hector Bolitho later met North at a 43 Squadron ‘knees-up' and was struck by the transformation. The lively ‘Knockers North', who was blessed with a perpetual smile, gossiped agreeably with Bolitho ‘about the beauties of the Southern Alps and the joy of New Zealand fish and butter', but it was noticeable that the Battle of Britain had taken a toll on his body. In addition to upper and lower false teeth, North's ‘back and arms were riddled with pieces of shrapnel. He would pinch little points of steel out of his arm, like blackheads.' Consequently, his ‘body was a perpetual distress to him'. ‘He was only twenty-four,' recalled Bolitho, ‘but his hair was grey and if his face ever rested from smiling I think he would have looked very old.'[17]

Only minutes after North's air battle, Horton, flying at 18,000 feet, heard the sound of machine-gun fire and turned steeply to see an Me 109
firing on his tail. In a dogfight that lasted over ten minutes he was pushed to the limit of his flying ability. Both pilots were able to score hits from the stern and deflection. The Luftwaffe airman in desperation made a couple of head-on attacks and at points the tussle took them skimming just above the cold Channel waters. Fortunately for Horton his aim was truer and eventually the wounded Me 109 slowed before ditching in the sea. In the euphoria of victory he circled his victim, who was splashing around in a life jacket, the aircraft having been consumed by the grey waters off the Isle of Wight. 18] Only the fact that he had to land ‘wheels-up,' thanks to damage to his undercarriage, slightly tarnished his success. In the end, Sperrle's heavily mauled and chastened aircraft and crews were forced to sprinkle the waters off Portsmouth with bombs as they swung for home.

Park's defensive fight had been costly, but the Luftwaffe had come off worse, losing forty-one more machines than Fighter Command.[19] In the south the defensive effort, aided by 10 Group, led to Sperrle withdrawing his formations from major raids for three weeks. North of the Thames the only sore point was Debden. What rankled with Park was the repeated absence of 12 Group. Leigh-Mallory had endangered his airfields again. A decade after the battle, questions were still being raised about the Big Wing controversy and Park often answered by comparing the respective responses of the two groups, one on his shoulder and the other at his side: