Library Reference Number: 097
A Day In The Life Of A Spitfire Pilot
After the miracle of the evacuation of British troops from Dunkirk, where the Army left almost all the equipment it possessed, the protection of the country rested with the Navy and Air Force. The loss, about a year later, of HMS Prince of Wales and Repulse demonstrates the fate of warships caught without air cover, so that the role of the RAF became absolutely vital in defence against German invasion.
Ahead of invasion it was essential that the RAF, and in particular Fighter Command, should be destroyed and, with this in view, the Germans launched mass bombing attacks on convoys, ports, cities, airfields and factories. Thanks to radar, RAF Fighter Command was able to send up our fighters to intercept the raids. The Battle of Britain - a major turning point in the war - was waged by young Hurricane and Spitfire pilots (the `Few') who managed to keep control of Britain's airspace. One of the `Few' was Norman Brown, who gives this account of a day in the life of a Spitfire pilot:---
"The autumn of 1940 . . What memories! So very hectic, exhausting and frightening. The dangers, fears, excitement . . the sadness and the fun, shared with some of the best people one could ever hope to meet.
Most days started early . . before dawn. Occasionally one was wakened, to be told `The birds are walking today, Sir' Fog! . . no flying . . a welcome break. The Squadron wags proposed forming a sect: 'The Most Dishonourable Order of Fog Worshippers!'
Today, pilots, still half-asleep, snatch a hasty breakfast and totter out of the Mess, to pile onto an open lorry. We trundle round the airfield to B Flight dispersal, picking up the Sgt Pilots on the way. There, in the half-light, ground crews are checking the Spitfires for serviceability... some being 'run up' with two blokes lying over the tail planes to keep them on the ground . . a most uncomfortable job. But they are a wonderful bunch and despite long hours, fatigue, and bombing, keep the aircraft in flying condition. A quick change into flying gear in the dispersal hut and confirmation that your Spitfire is O.K. We are now at readiness. Then the worst part ...
Waiting! Time is passed dozing, reading, listening to music or playing cards. The telephone rings! Hearts miss a beat and nerves jangle . . but its an admin call . . or the NAAFI van coming. Just as things are settling down and the knots in the stomach are relaxing, it rings again. This time it's for real . 41 Squadron scramble!
A dash for the dispersed Spits . . Merlins burst into life as ground crews help pilots strap in . . everyone jostling to taxi into their 'take off' position - a tricky business as the `high nose' position of the Spitfire makes it impossible to see ahead and zigzagging is essential Link up with A Flight; twelve Merlins roar and we leave the ground and climb over Dagenham. On the RT we hear the Controller's message to leader . . 'Canterbury Patrol Line Angels Thirty (30,000 ft).'
Climbing at maximum rate . . oxygen on at about 13,OOOft - getting colder -- probably about minus 30 degrees Centigrade at 25,OOft and we're now leaving vapour trails -- at 27,OOOft still no sign of the raid's top fighter cover. On the RT, Controller tells us we should have contact -- hopefully they are below and we can 'bounce' them. But that hope is dashed as a gaggle of Me109s* dive on us out of the sun, their trails concealed by a drift of high cloud ... warning shouts on the RT ... gun button on to 'fire' . . . violent turns to meet the attack head on ... chin pressed down onto chest and vision darkening as G force increases ... orange streaks of cannon fire pass too close ... aircraft everywhere ... a glimpse of an enemy fighter ... a quick burst ... more tight turns ... a Spitfire dives past on fire and below, an Me with a Spitfire on its tail disintegrates . . . more evasive action, dive and tight turns and then level off . . . but where the hell's everyone gone? . . the sky's empty! Already down to 20,OOOft ... not the best of places to hang about unless teamed up with friendly fighters. As height is lost, so is visibility ... Ice and condensation cloud the screen. Home James!
Already some are back, and the remainder . . . those that are coming back, dropping in ones and twos. Intelligence Officer asking about 'claims' as the cooling exhausts crackle. No time is wasted. A quick refuel and rearm, to be ready for the next flap. Perhaps several more before the day ends and we can thankfully retire to the local hostelry for the odd pint where a bit of 'line-shooting' is done, enhanced by good humoured 'kidology.' There is no mention of absentees.... So ends another day."
* Messerschmitt fighter planes escorted the bombers and were the greatest challenge to intercepting British fighters.
Webmaster Additional Note: The picture shown illustrates squadron members in October 1940. Norman Brown is standing second from right - the propellor lists the names of pilots in the squadron including those missing in action.