Rolled down the runway at Manston, having started again at exactly the wrong end of it. The Spitty didn't mind the tailwind as much as me. I reluctantly took lead as Scotty and I climbed up to 23k, patrolling the coastline between Hell's Corner and English Point. Up at 23k, we spotted a group of eleven bombers gone just feet dry around Hawkinge. I dove down to 14k and found them to be HE-11s in line abreast formation.

On my first pass at the left bomber, I got greedy and followed my bullets smack into the Jerry. Having lost both my wings, I bailed out, watching with mixed feelings as both the 111 and my beloved Spit crashed into the ground below.

Fortunately, I landed in the backyard of a lovely lady who was quite hospitable.