12.23 Good luck or bad luck.
The young pilot was sitting up in bed, his eyes bandaged and the bruising around his temple, nose and face still a lurid multicoloured display. He had been back in the base hospital at Benghazi for two weeks now and he had only regained consciousness for half that time. The trouble was his eyes, he was still blind, to say he was scared that the doctors were not telling him the truth when they claimed that as the swelling of his brain and the tissue around his eyes diminished his eyesight would return was an understatement. As it was he had now been deemed fit enough to be moved back to the better recuperation facilities available in the Nile delta and he was to be flown out the following day.
This morning the Group intelligence officer was coming in to see him. Apparently the higher ups wanted his version of the events that day even though they had had the after action reports from all three of the other pilots.
Having introduced himself the intelligence officer who was actually a Squadron leader and a former barrister asked the young pilot to just talk him through the events of that day as he took notes. When the pilot had finished, a few questions were asked and then the officer stated that usually he would ask him to read the statement and then sign it, so due to the circumstance he would simply read the statement back.
‘Flying as wingman to the flight leader he was flying as Red two in a four aircraft flight from Eighty Squadron on the eleventh of February and they were forward based just east of Sirte. The flight leader had taken the four hurricanes in the usual finger four formation at ten thousand feet for a patrol to the west to attack targets of opportunity and continue the domination of the airspace currently enjoyed by the RAF.
Having been airborne for nearly an hour the flight leader had decided to have a look for enemy activity around the village of Buerat some fifty six mile miles west of Sirte and very much in the disputed front line area patrolled by the armoured cars of both sides. Approaching the village from the west at ten thousand feet with the late afternoon sun behind then the flight leader had spotted three enemy aircraft to the east at about three thousand feet below and ahead of them.
Identifying the aircraft as two Me 110’s apparently escorting a lone He 111 bomber the flight leader had radioed his intention of attacking as the situation was advantageous, the flight were to bounce the two Me 110’s and then stay low and head for home avoiding unnecessary trouble as they were quite short on fuel. The flight leader and his number two would take the right hand Me 110 and the other pair consisting of Red Three and Four would take on the left hand Me 110. Having giving his very brief instructions the flight leader had called ‘Tally Ho’ and commenced his diving attack. As Red two, the injured pilot had dropped back slightly to cover his bosses tail. Red three and Four mirroring this manoeuvre to their left.
Coming out of the sun in a classic swooping bounce the young pilot confirmed that his flight leader had opened fire on the right Me110 from above and behind at very short range. Red two had observed cannon shell striking the cockpit and right wing root of the Me110, the end of the burst had missed ahead of the Me 110 and the tracer shells passed close to and just astern on the port side of the He 111. This aircraft had taken violent evasive action rolling and climb to the right strait into Red two’s flight path. Red Two had got of a short burst at the bomber but had to take action to avoid a collision, in doing so he had exposed his fighter to defensive fire from the Me 111 bombers dorsal machine gun. Machine gun bullets had struck the starboard side of the engine cowling and the bullet proof wind screen and at least one had entered the cockpit hitting the instrument panel. The pilot had been showered in shattered glass from the panel and had continued to take evasive action.
On realising that he was no longer being fired at, he had assessed his own condition and then that of his aircraft throttling back and regaining level flight as he did so. Red two was certain that his cannon shells, even in that fleeting burst, had hit the cockpit and fuselage of the He 111. A quick check showed that he had superficial cuts about his face from the shattering of his instruments and that his goggle had protected his eyes from the shards of glass and the shattered Perspex from the starboard side of the cockpit hood. A gentle waggle of the control stick demonstrated that he still had control but the response was a little sluggish. Both his compass and artificial horizon were shattered and useless but most of the other instruments were working and so far both the temperature and pressure seemed to be steady. However there was a real stench of hydraulic oil in the cockpit.’ These events were over in a moment rather than the minutes it took the intelligence officer to read back.
‘Red two had then heard his flight leader calling him on the radio asking him if he was okay and where the hell he thought he was going. Responding that he had taken hits and had lost both compass and AH. Flight had replied by telling him to make a gentle turn to port as he was currently heading south into the unknown depths of the desert. As he turned towards the east in Red two his flight leader had flown an orbit around his Hurricane to assess the damage. Coming back on the radio Flight had confirmed that there was damage on the starboard side of the engine and that there was a thin stream of oil or glycol visible from below the aircraft. Taking station on Red two’s starboard wing his flight leader gave him instruction to guide him back to base and confirmed that Red three and Four were flying top cover above and behind to make sure that they were not attacked.
After what seemed like hours to the young pilot but was in fact just a few minutes the airfield came in sight ahead just inland from the coast road east of Sirte. Even in the short time available the flight leader had told him that they had got both 110’s and the he had definitely damaged the He 111 that had last been seen descending rapidly leaving a trail of smoke as it headed west.
As he approached the airfield the young pilot set the undercarriage lever for down, there was a brief sound but no reassuring pair of green lights to confirm that the wheels where down. In moments the flight leader had confirmed that the starboard undercarriage leg did not look like it was fully down and locked.
Trying to raise it had no effect so Red two had no option but to land and hope it held. Attempting to land the aircraft with as little stress on the starboard undercarriage as possible the young pilot almost made it, but two factors combine to turn his landing into an ugly crash. First, a late afternoon thermal caught the Hurricane with lift as he flared for the landing causing the aircraft to balloon upwards and then, as he tried to correct this, the sink as he came out of the thermal caused him to side slip to starboard collapsing the damage undercarriage as it struck the ground, resulting in the aircraft cart wheeling into a mess of wreckage.
The rescue crew had pulled him unconscious from the remains of the cockpit with severe facial injuries where he had appeared to strike the gun sight with his head.
After initial treatment at the airfield he had been flown back to Benghazi where he had remained unconscious for days.
Having got the pilot to confirm that the details were correct the Squadron Leader finished by reading the last paragraph that stated.
'This report was dictated by Flying Officer Roald Dahl on the fifth of March Nineteen Forty One.'
As the intelligence officer rose to leave, the injured pilot asked the if he was in trouble for pranging his Hurricane, The squadron leader turned and said “No you are not in trouble, far from it. I am not meant to tell you this but not only did that He111 crash land after you hit it but apparently there was some German General called Rommel on board who was seriously injured. You might well get a gong for this.”
