大象传媒

It was a beautiful summer day in 1941. I was one of three schoolboys fishing for tiddlers in the local park lake, each with the necessary jam far and fishing net made from a garden cane and a stocking.
After about half an hour the air-raid warning siren sounded, we took no notice, we were catching tiddlers. But - high in the sky a plane started to dive. Being interested in planes we argued with each other, was it a M.E.109E or M.E.109D? We realised it was 109E when flashes appeared from the guns. He was shooting at us! The bullets hit the ground about 200 yards away, so we ran and ran, across the park and into the covered area between two houses (called an entry).
The plane now turned, and came at us again, the bullets hitting the two houses. Up the back garden we ran, climbing over the back fence and over into our own homes, where we were shouted at by our mothers for nearly getting killed.
There was then a mighty roar as a Spitfire came over at tree top height. Swooping up towards the M.E.109, a burst of cannon fire hit the German. Black smoke came from his engine and down he came crashing into a field about three miles away. The pilot was captured by a policeman. What happened to the pilot we never found out. I still have the scar on my knee to remind me of when I was shot at on a warm summers day in 1941.
I had my Wolf Cub cap on, so the pilot probably didn't like Boy Scouts!

漏 Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.