On the day that Darley was rebuked, 609 Squadron intercepted a formation of Ju 87s heading straight for Warmwell. They attacked them vigorously and only a couple of bombs hit the airfield. After landing, Darley says, "I could not resist the temptation to ring up the Warmwell Station Commander and say that I did not expect any thanks for saving the hangars, personnel, and planes, not to mention the Officers' Mess and kitchen."

But if Darley thought this would make this Station Commander change his unwelcoming attitude, he was wrong. From that day onwards, the men of 609 Squadron cooked their own meals, using camping equipment and pressure stoves, at the dispersal tent. Hearing of this, RAF men in the station cookhouse provided the fighter squadron with "a mountain of eggs, tea, sugar, tins of Nestle's milk, and packets of Kellogg's Corn Flakes," with the message that they thought the fighter squadron was "bloody marvelous."

Many fighter pilots were withdrawing into a world of their own. Endless flying, some of it at high altitudes, lack of sleep, loss of friends, and the way in which so many of them had suffered physical hurts, if only from the process of bailing out, all ate away at morale. Men were affected in various ways; many pilots landed and had to tell the Intelligence Officer that they couldn't remember anything. One recalled his fellow pilots all being extremely polite to each other, lest one's last words to a friend were rude ones. At 54 Squadron tiredness provoked men into taking offence where none was intended. A pilot, sitting in front of a plate of eggs and bacon, swayed and nodded until his head came to rest in his food, and he was fast asleep. "You're meant to eat the eggs, not put your face in them," called another pilot to wake him up. "George sat erect with a start," remembered Al Deere, "and looked around with hostility before departing in silence to his room. This action was most unlike George."

At Manston 600 Squadron Blenheims had at last been ordered to withdraw. The airfield was still being used as a forward base for fighter squadrons but with so many of the ground staff resolutely refusing to leave the air-raid shelters, except after dark, it was not always easy to get the fighters back into the air.

Park chose Monday 19 August for a staff conference. He told his Sector Commanders and Controllers that their first priority must be defence of the sector airfields, from which the Controllers deployed their squadrons in battle. Secondly, they must continue to avoid fighter-to-fighter combat. Whatever the cost, they must prise the escorts away from their charges and concentrate upon shooting down bombers.

This simple and as it turned out masterly tactical plan ordained the sort of battle that the RAF would have to fight. To protect sector stations demanded that the German raids be intercepted as early as possible, so there would be no time to form up 'big wings' before going into battle. It also meant that some squadrons would be assigned to patrol the sector airfields instead of going to meet the raiders. Bitter disputes were to arise on both matters.

It could be argued that since the Luftwaffe had already reduced its bomber sorties because of a shortage of fighters, then the best tactics must be to shoot down enemy fighters. But Park knew that this was deceptively simple reasoning. To shoot down bombers meant that the German bomber crews would demand even bigger escorts, and would insist that the fighter escorts came down to the same altitude as the bombers. This would render German fighters vulnerable to his fighters.

Many RAF fighter pilots were unhappy about this. They clamoured for a chance to go after the German fighters. Young men, they had been nourished upon schoolboy fiction of another age. But like aviators of that previous generation, they had to come to terms with a grimmer reality: they were ordered to kill the men of the slower, more vulnerable bombers. They were to run away from enemy fighters unless instructed to pursue them.

The professional fighter pilot gained height as quickly as he was permitted, and treasured possession of that benefit. He hoped always to spot the enemy before they spotted him and hurried to the sun side of them to keep himself invisible. He needed superior speed, so he positioned himself for a diving attack, and he would choose a victim at the very rear of the enemy formation so that he did not have to fly through their gunfire. He would hope to kill on that first dive, and if he failed, the dedicated professional would flee rather than face an alerted enemy.

This was the classic fighter tactic, and even so it was dangerous. On 13 August, 56 Squadron had bounced a Stuka formation over Canterbury and been badly shot up by their rear-facing guns. "We were taught a sharp lesson," said one of the fighter pilots. But always it was height that the fighter pilots wanted. No wonder that the German fighter pilots would not stay with the dive bombers during their attacks. Luckily they were able to 'prove' it was impossible, due to the Stuka's dive-brakes.

Day after day of great air battles had not produced a decisive result for one side or the other. On this day, like Park, Göring called a meeting of his senior officers. Far from defining specific objectives, Göring said that the Air Fleets could decide their own targets (with the exception of London), and suggested that more attacks should be made on RAF bomber airfields, to hamper any counter-offensive.

The casualties suffered by the Ju 87 Stuka dive-bomber units, and their lack of success in the face of determined air defence, brought the decision to phase them out of the battle. Von Richthofen, commander of the Stukas, was at the conference. In his diary he noted caustically, "The campaign against England is to proceed energetically but differently."

Göring was beginning to admit that his twin-engined Zerstorer units were not having the kind of success he had so often predicted for them. He suggested that the Bf 110s should be provided with Bf 109 escorts: fighters to protect fighters!

From a planning point of view, to exclude Bf 110s from the fighter category was an instant depletion of hundreds of fighters. And yet it was only recognizing what was already self-evident; the specially selected crews were now decimated and demoralized. The great miscalculation had been to make no proper allowance for the Bf 110's poor acceleration. Once attacked it could not leap away from the stream of bullets. Even Kesselring admitted surprise at what he called the Bf 110's 'awkwardness'.

Göring had other ideas to help his Air Fleets. He appealed to the fighter pilots' sense of responsibility for their charges. He asked that fighter pilots and bomber crews get opportunities to meet each other, and that the same crews should always have the same escorts. The bombers must keep tightly together, he said, and threatened that any fighter pilots turning back because of bad weather would face a court-martial. It was the emotional pleading of a man who had no technical education, no real sympathy for what was actually happening to his crews, and no plan of action.

If Göring really wanted to do something about the relationship between fighter pilots and bomber crews, he would have given them radio communication. As it was, once airborne the fighter pilots were unable to talk to the bombers; they couldn't even speak to their ground control.

Whatever else was agreed at the conference, it had become clear that the single-engined fighter plane was the key to victory. Air Fleet 3's fighters were to be moved from the Cherbourg peninsula into the Pas de Calais, closer to England, and added to Osterkamp's command. To compensate Sperrle for his lost Bf 109 units, he was given the Bf 110s from Air Fleet 5 in Scandinavia. In future these northern units were only to be used for reconnaissance and night attacks against the British Isles.