He gave the first Bf 109 a four-second burst and saw his bullets hitting the engine. He saw the Perspex of the hood shatter into fragments that sparkled in the sunlight. The Bf 109 rolled onto its back, slewed, and then dropped, nose down, to earth. Another enemy aircraft came into his sights. Gleave turned with him, firing bullets that brought black smoke from the wings before the Bf 109 dropped vertically, still smoking. Gleave narrowly missed colliding with his third victim, and then gave him a three-second burst as the Messerschmitt pulled ahead and turned into the gunfire. The cockpit seemed empty; the pilot slumped forward out of sight. The Messerschmitt fell. The German pilots were trying to maintain formation and by now there was so much gunfire curving through the air that Gleave had the impression of flying through a gigantic golden bird-cage. A fourth Messerschmitt passed slightly above Gleave, and he turned and climbed to fire into the underside of its fuselage. But after two or three seconds' firing Gleave heard the ominous clicking that told him he had used up all his bullets. But already the fourth victim was mortally hit, and rolled on its back before falling away.

In spite of his age and rank, Gleave possessed the one quality that distinguished the ace pilots on both sides. It was something more important than flying skill, more important than keen eyesight, even more important than quick reaction times and the ability to 'aim off for" the correct deflection. Such men as Gleave had the nerve to fly on collision courses (that forward-facing guns require) very, very close to the enemy. Gleave was 175 yards from his first victim (very close by 1940 standards) and 120

yards from the second one. But the third and fourth Messerschmitts were hit from only 60 and 75 yards respectively. Furthermore the RAF were discovering that the shortened, lightened version of the Oerlikon 20mm cannon that the Luftwaffe was using had severe limitations. The reduced muzzle velocity was causing the shells to explode before penetrating the RAF airframes, and the cannon shells were fragmenting into such small pieces that the monocoque structures were often being perforated but not always shattered. The extra armour plate that the fighters now carried, thanks to the efforts of No. 1 Squadron in France, enabled many pilots to escape from fighters suffering direct hit by cannon shells. Some pilots even brought such aircraft home.

The pre-war theories about the destructiveness of explosive cannon shells were eventually to prove right but in 1940 the short Oerlikon cannon that the Bf 109E used had such a low velocity and poor rate of fire that the armament of the opposing fighters was about equal. And the Messerschmitt wings were still imposing terrible limitations upon the Luftwaffe's fighter pilots. Even with bubbles on the lower surface of the wings, the cannon magazines could hold no more than sixty rounds. This gave the Bf 109 a mere nine seconds of gunfire compared with the RAF's machine guns which could deliver fourteen seconds of fire. And such gunfire could be equally destructive if the pilot flew very close.

And on this day of August, Tom Gleave had flown very close. It was an instructive insight into the ways of the Air Ministry assessment boards, and their indifference to the rules of evidence that, at a time when RAF claims were so far from reality, Gleave's claim to four Bf 109s shot down was allowed only as four 'probables." It seemed to them unlikely that Gleave had shot down four aircraft in as many minutes and so they offered him a vague compromise. Dissatisfied, Gleave sought out the wrecks just south of Maidstone and proved his claims. They were all from JG 27.

As the day came to an end, Fighter Command could console itself with the news that thirty-six German aircraft had been destroyed for only twenty-five RAF fighters, and from these fifteen pilots were safe. But the Luftwaffe seemed to have discovered the way to hurt the defences. The attacks against the sector airfields had been delivered with resource and determination, and the relentless timing had scarcely been giving the RAF fighters enough time to rearm and refuel. Luckily none of the attacks had found the fighters on the ground but inevitably they would, and the results could prove as devastating as they had in France and Poland.

It was a day when the Luftwaffe did everything exactly right. Every available Bf 109 had been moved to airfields in the Pas de Calais under Kesselring and as close as possible to England. Today no less than 1,300 fighter sorties were flown, to protect 150 bombers.

The skills and experience of the German fighter pilots became evident early in the day. The newly operational Canadians of No. 1 Squadron RCAF were bounced by a Staffel of Bf 109s, and three Hurricanes were shot down before breakfast.

Following this wave of fighters came the first bombing raid. Again the attacks were directed against the sector airfields. The raids were delivered with skill and determination. No. 56 Squadron, out of the North Weald, went to intercept a raid heading for their base. They met the enemy over Colchester but the Bf 109 escorts knocked four Hurricanes out of the sky without suffering any casualties themselves or losing any bombers.

The raids continued with the same relentless energy as they had the previous day. Inevitably some RAF fighters were caught on the ground. At lunchtime the Kenley Controller phoned 85 Squadron at Croydon and scrambled them. As Squadron Leader Peter Townsend cleared the perimeter fence and reached for the undercarriage retraction gear, his engine stopped. It missed a few beats before roaring back into life again. "Turning in the cockpit, I saw the rest of the squadron emerging from a vast eruption of smoke and debris." The blast of the bombs had strangled his engine but the Hurricanes survived the bombing. Out of sight over the horizon were the vulnerable Dornier Do 17s discovering that their low-level diving runs gave their target no warning and gave themselves a chance of getting away.

As Townsend climbed steeply away at full boost, he saw in the distance black smoke from another attack, upon neighbouring Biggin Hill. Chasing after the raiders, 85 Squadron caught up with the Bf 110 fighter escort at 9,000 feet over Tunbridge Wells. But as they did so, Bf 109 high escorts dived into the fight. All Bf 110s were flown by selected crews but those attacked by Townsend were really Experten. They belonged to ErprGr 210 (the precision light-bombing unit that had done such damage to the radar chain on 12 August). No. 85 Squadron shot down one of the Bf 110s and damaged two others, but as Townsend was aiming at a Bf 109 with thumb on the firing button, his Hurricane was rocked by a burst from a Bf 110. Townsend saw the winking light of the muzzle flashes before his windscreen went white, fuel poured over him, and the nose-cap of a cannon shell went into his foot, and stayed there. But his Hurricane was still in one piece, and Townsend climbed out and pulled the ripcord of his parachute. When still dangling in the air he remembers calling to two girls, "I say, would you mind giving me a hand when I get down?" By 21 September, walking with the aid of a stick and minus one toe, Townsend was back with his squadron.

There were many such miraculous survivals and they were partly due to the low muzzle velocity of the shortened Oerlikons. On 9 August a Spitfire of 92 Squadron had been hit by cannon shells, one of which struck the control column, but the pilot had flown his fighter back to Kenley. On 24 August Pilot Officer Andy Mamedoff, an American flying with 609 Squadron, had an amazing escape when a cannon shell actually pierced his seat armour. The Spitfire was a total loss but Mamedoff had nothing worse than a bruised back. It was his first combat.