In their own words...

[bobbysocks]

Dogfight over Vlissingen


This short story is taken from the upcoming book, "Finn Thorsager – fighter pilot in combat", written in Norwegian language. This piece has been translated into English for you all to (hopefully) enjoy.

The book is written based on the memoirs of the first Norwegian fighter pilot ever to be involved in combat.

This specific piece is based on Finn Thorsagers own combat report from a dogfight over Vlissingen in 1943 flying with 332 squadron. At this point during the war they were flying Spitfire MkIX.

The translators first language is not English and therefore the text might not be as good and correct grammatically as it should.


Finn sits in the cockpit and tries to think a little before they take off for the mission. It seems that the Germans isn't as eager to meet them in combat as before. It had been a little increase of activity this spring, and he clearly remembers the german he had shot down a few months ago. The enemy plane had spun down with a tail of fire behind it. After those missions it had gotten more quiet again. Just as much flying, but more the routine type of missions – escorting the Americans into France and then meeting up with them again on their way home.

The bombers keeps pounding the German industry. Maybe the decrease in german activity means that the bombing is working? He's not sure, but he hope he's right. Finn gets the feeling that the war now finally have turned around for the allies. Thoughts of survival starts to sneak up on him. In the start of it all, the idea of surviving seemed almost unreal to him. It now seems to be a fair chance he can get out of if alive. By each mission he puts down in his logbook, the more days go by. It's still important to keep the lads on their toes. It's dangerous if they get apathetic and isn't concentrating to their fullest when they're out flying. A pair of Focke Wulf 190 might suddenly attack out of the sun and send two-three Spitfires into the ground before the Norwegians even understands what happening. It has happened before, and it can happen again.

Finn pulls the hood over his head. He feels tired when he does it. The sound of the Rolls Royce Merlin engine reminds him that yet again he's going out with the Wing on a mission. Where's Red 2? There, Finn sees him straight ahead. He pulls the stick a little back and the throttle forward. The Spitfire happily respons to his orders. Finn gets himself in position behind Red 2. He's Red 3 today. Helge Mehre, the Wing Commander at North Weald, is leading 332 on this mission. They will act as support of bombers and fighters now coming out of Belgium. They've taken the route several times before. The formation looks to be tidy and the altimeter shows 14.000 feet. They continue to go upwards to 26.000. Summer has arrived a long time ago already. Much earlier than what Finn is used to from back home.

«Tally Ho, tally ho!» And observant and excited pilot reports 25 bandits about 10.000 feet below them. Mehre knows his stuff and leads the Wing even higher before he pulls them into a turn which puts them directly against the Germans from above. The enemy is there under them. Still in formation. If they don't see the Spitfires soon, they will be in for a big surprise when the combat-hungry Norwegians from North Weald comes down on them.

«Going down, now!» Wing Co. Mehre calls the boys up on the radio and Finn pushes his Spitfire downwards with Mehre leading. He tightens his grip on the stick and tries to keep up with the leading Spitfires. The ailerons gets heavier the faster the Spitfire dives. Finn is fully aware of it. It's one of the few little problems the Spitfire got. The faster it dives, the heavier it gets on the controls. Finn checks his refleksmessigst. It's on. Canons ready to fire as well. Everything in order. Where's Sandvik who is supposed to be covering him? Finn takes a short glimpse behind. The wingman is right where he should be. Good. This attack looks to be going very well. Finn stares at the formation of Germans straight ahead. Pick one of them! He lets his eyes scan the dots of airplanes. The one to the left seems to be the perfect target. Don't fire too soon, wait for the bandit to be close enough. Now!

The Spitfire shakes brutally from the firing canons but keeps flying dead ahead. Finn's target, a shiny, silver Fw 190, gets taken completely by surprise by the attack. It takes several hits from Finn's guns. Two black puffs of smoke emerges from the engine before it stops dead. Second later black smoke gushes out from it. Violently the Fw 190 flicks over to the left. Finn pulls hard on his stick to avoid crashing with the stricken enemy plane. His arms feels like led, the oxygen-mask lets go of his nose is pressed down from his face by the gravitational forces. Far down to the left the Fw 190 explodes in a giant ball of fire after Sandvik gives him a final salute from the boys from Norway.

Finn pulls his Spitfire on to its back and pulls down and to the right. Filth from the floor hits him in his face while he's upside down. Where's Sandvik? Not in his mirror? Not good, he should be there! The kid must have lost him when Finn pulled away from the German after his attack.

Something silverish in color passes Finn on his left side. Another 190! He rolls the Spitfire over and goes after the it. It's one-on-one now, no help from either of their wingmen!

The 190 keeps jumping around in his gunsight. Finn fires, but the deflection-shot misses it's target. The damn Hun is too far away! The 190 keeps diving towards the earth. Finn thinks for a fraction of a second before he decides to go after the lone enemy pilot. He keeps track of the plane ahead while he presses the Spitfire into a hell-rising dive. This is absolutely not the place to be for long. How many times have he told unexperienced pilots about how dangerous it is to be alone in the sky? Way too many times.

Now, where did the German go? He was ahead a second ago! Finn sees something a bit to the left of him. Something grey is coming straight at him! Finn just manages to fire his guns before the German passes him in terrific speed. He saw hits around the cockpit area just before the enemy plane disappeared. Now he's gone and Finn is alone. A really close shave. His altimeter shows 8000 feet. He's not staying here a second longer. The area is probably swarming with enemy planes and being alone he's no match for them.

Finn presses the throttle forward as far as it goes, and heads for the coast. It doesn't seem to be too far. He can't have flown as far east as he first thought he did.

Sandvik appears over the channel and waves his wings at Finn. He can see him sitting there, in his cockpit, showing Finn thumbs up. Finn lifts his hand and waves back at him. It feels numb and a little shaky. It had been quite a fight!

Safely back at North Weald they round up the numbers. It had been a good day. 13 shot down and no losses. In a couple of days the King and Crown Prince of Norway will arrive at North Weald. This would really be something to tell them!

With a cigarette hanging from his lips, Finn reports one 190 destroyed and one 190 damaged. He could easily have been sitting in a Belgian field right now, his ass covered with dirt and a parachute he's desperately trying to hide before the Germans arrive. He's been lucky. Lucky and skilled? He hopes it to be both.

from: http://www.spitfirepilots.com/