"It must have been at the time Al [Deere] was hit that one of the other 109s joined our formation and took up his position as my number two! It was not until we were over Bethune that the leader of the section on my right suddenyl realised that my wingman was, in fact, a 109. He immediately opened fire and the enemmy aircraft dived away, which was when I saw it.
The distance from Hazebrouck to Bethune is quite considerable and all this time I had this German aircraft behind me, in fact, I was even looking back straight into its gun muzzles without recognising it! Just why he did not open fire I will never know but all I can think is that he was a new boy who joined our formation by mistake, thinking it was his own, or having found himself by accident in the midst of a whole wing of the much feared Spitfires he just did not know how to break away without being immediately shot down.
Although it still gives me the creeps, it is interesting to speculate on what would have happened if he had not been fired at - perhaps he might even have landed back at Kenley with us!
About a week later we carried out a sweep over Dunkirk, St Omer and Gravelines. We did not encounter anything until we were approaching the coast on our way then I noticed that the number three of a section on my left was intermittently "trailing". I thought it was strange, as no vapour trails were being formed by any of the other aircraft, so I had a closer look and to my horror realised that numbers three and four in the section were 109s and the "vapour trail" I had noticed against the briliant blue of the sky was, in fact, smoke from his guns as he fired at the number two of the section. He must have been a terribly bad shot as he failed to score a hit.
I called out a warning and climbed towards the 109s opening fire as I did so. The Germans dived away and I latched on to the tail of the leader, his number two latched on to me, and my number two on to him - and down we hurtled towards the beaches of Gravelines.
I was in the fortunate position of being the only one who could fire as the German number two could not fire at me for fear of hitting his leader and my number two could not shoot in case he hit me! As we got lower the 109 I was shooting at pulled out of its dive and started a climbing turn to starboard and I noticed that we were now about 3000 feet right over the flak batteries so, having failed to hit the 109, as I thought, I broke violently to port and dived away out to sea weaving gently. A certain amount of flak came up but it was very wide of the mark.
It was not until debriefing at Kenley that I learned from my number two that "my" 109 had continued its turn to starboard, rolling on to its back and diving straight into the sand dunes where it exploded."
From: Johnny Kent, "One of the Few", Tempus Publishing 2000 reprint.
[In 53 (Fighter) Operational Training Unit based at Heston, London]:"The accident rate during training was considerably higher than it was on an operational unit and, although always regrettable, some of them had their amusing side. One was the result of engine failure immediately after take-off and the pilot had no option but to come down in Osterley Park where he hit a tree and literally wrapped the aeroplane round it. When we got there we could not move the machine and had to wait for the Crash Crew; in the meantime we examined the wreckage and could see that the pilot was himself jammed tightly up against the tree. Judging from the angle of his head, his neck appeared to be broken and there was no sign of life at all.
On arrival, the Crash crew rapidly got a chain around the aeroplane and, using their lorry, quickly pulled it clear - as it did so the pilot's head snapped back into its normal position and he said: "Thank you very much!".
Apparently he had been so tightly jammed up against the tree that he could neither move nor speak, but he had been able to hear all the comments as we surveyed his "dead" body. Actually his injuries were confined to a few scratches and bruises."
From: Johnny Kent, "One of the Few", Tempus Publishing 2000 reprint.
[In Nicosia, Cyprus, 1944] "Some of the Hungarian cabaret girls were most attractive and some of the stories about them were very amusing - unfortunately most will not bear retelling here. One, I think, can be told as it illustrates the attitude to life and world affairs that most of them seemed to have. One of our officers was dancing with a particularly good-looking girl who asked why he had the top button of his tunic undone. He explained that this was because he was a fighter pilot. She said: "Oh, I like fightair pilotts - my brudder he is a fightair pilott."
Here was too good an opening to miss so our young hopeful asked what squadron the brother was in, to which she airily replied: "I don't know but he flies the Messerschmitt 109 on the Rossian front!""
Where the relationship went after that, we do not hear!
from: Johnny Kent, "One of the Few" (Tempus reprint 2000)
"Hornchurch was bombed again later that day [1st September]. Half asleep in my bed, having been doctored and doped, I was dimly aware of the air raid sirens blaring on the camp and decided that the air-raid shelter was the safest place to be as the chances were that Hornchurch would again be the target, and it was. I hastened to the shelter behind the mess which was for the use of the mess staff and the airwomen who slept in billets nearby. The civilian mess staff, headed by Sam our popular and bluff chef, were already safely installed and seated in two rows along either side of the shelter and engaged in the usual speculative conversation.
I had no sooner seated myself when a pair of female legs appeared unexpectedly on the top rung of the iron ladder which led into the air-raid shelter from the emergency escape exit at the far end. Shapely ankles were followed by a figure draped in a dressing gown and obviously in some haste. Having successfully negotiated the ascent, she jumped thankfully on the floor of the shelter and turned to face the audience to display all of mother nature's charms, so embarrassingly revealed through her dressing gown which had, unfortunately, become unfastened. The poor girl was covered in confusion and the situation made no less embarrassing by the ribald remarks which Sam tossed to the assembled company. The unfortunate airwoman, who was an operations-room plotter, had been caught in her bath when the sirens sounded and deemed it wise to make all haste to the shelter. A wise but, as it turned out, an emabarrassing decision, and one not made any easier to laugh down by her admission that she didn't know there was another entrance to the shelter. In the circumstances, the bombing attack which then developed was suffered rather lightheartedly."
From: Group Captain A. C. "Al" Deere, "Nine Lives", 1959. [Al Deere, 54 Squadron, had been blown up by a German bomb in his Spitfire when taking off the previous day in the middle of a German air raid, 31st August.]
from: W. G. C. Duncan-Smith, "Spitfire into Battle"
[During the "Champagne Campaign", Invasion of Southern France August 1944 onwards]
"On another sortie leading 93 Squadron, to my great regret I fired on an ambulance; however, the Germans themselves were to blame. Along a straight piece of road leading north from Annonay, I saw a long column of German transports. I swung the formation in a wide arc eastwards, with the intention of attacking across the road. The flak, I knew, would be pretty stiff, and I thought that by this tactic we could take the enemy by surprise in the initial attack.
Putting 93 into line abreast, I dived for a large vehicle dead ahead of me. My opening burst caught it squarely along its side enveloping it in dust and debris. As I pulled up I saw the Red Cross on the roof. Realising I had attacked an ambulance I called off the attack. However running my eye down the column as I swung round left in a climbing turn, I could see it was the only vehicle marked as an ambulance. The Germans did this quite often. They would put a few vehicles marked as ambulances in the midst of an armed convoy hoping we would not attack.
Later when I went down the same road with Tim Lucas to look at the Tiger tank I found this ambulance burnt out where I had strafed it, lying on its side in the ditch. Beside it was a communal grave with the names of twenty German soldiers fixed to the wooden cross. The spot where the petrol and ammunition trucks had blown up also had a communal grave with fifteen names. [This was on the same mission when he shot up the Tiger tank.] The ambulance incident was unfortunate but unavoidable. I remembered a morning in England, during the summer of 1942, when I saw an Fw190 fighter-bomber strafe the main shopping area of Folkestone, which at the time was full of women; I couldn't do anything about it as I was unable to catch him. Looking at the names on the cross, I reckoned it was a just retribution."
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