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Article 5

Following the air raid on Croydon Airport on the evening of 15th August, of which we on our high hill 5 miles to the south didn’t see much of, and with the Battle of Britain said to be already at its height – for some air fields had already received several visits by raiding bombers – we still had to wait a few more days before being convinced conclusively. And when we were, the German pilots treated us to a real spectacle.

It was Sunday lunchtime 18th of August and while Bob and I avidly searched some cloudy sky up and beyond Caterham from our Mount Avenue for the obvious armada of bombers intent on our part of Surrey – for the throbbing air was filled with a multitude of big aero engines blasting at full power –we were unexpectedly caught unawares by other aircraft arriving from the south. Nine sleek Dornier twin-engined bombers flying line abreast had hopped over the North Downs Way above Springbottom and Whitehill to lay Kenley to waste and were bearing down on us at a hundred feet before we heard them coming.
Surprised by this new high speed turn of events, the west flank outer-machine had reached the avenue in a sudden burst of sound as it raced at 250 mph towards then over our line of bungalows, to speed on over Rook Lane – wing lifting to clear nearby trees as it went – and across the fields towards the Guards Barracks to contribute twenty more bombs aimed at destroying my boyhood treasure. And only when it and another I spotted overflying Fryern were disappearing beyond the grey roofs and hefty walls did I un-gape my face and follow Bob in making for our garden Anderson shelter.

All nine of the German bombers reached the aerodrome to knock out many buildings and most of the big hangers, destroyed seven aircraft on the ground – including the sweet little pre war yellow Miles Magister; the pilots ‘hack’ and sporty runabout – and sent a great pall of black smoke skywards as oil and petrol went up in the shambles. One of their numbers was brought down at Kenley after collecting bullets from a Hurricane, then some ground fire before colliding with the snaring wires of the parachute and cable rocket defence system. It was a ‘strike’ judged by many as perfect, for nothing had been indiscriminate. The Staffel leader too was badly hit by shellfire that set the aircraft alight and knocked out an engine: he would keep going though till finally the pilot belly-landed the wreck near Biggin Hill. While all these crewmembers bailed out to safety, those of the Kenley crashed bomber all died as the blazing machine fell on a bungalow and garden.

Also with an engine shot to a stop over the airfield, the aircraft that overflew our avenue bungalow somehow completed its bombing run, then shot down an intercepting Hurricane as it managed to stagger back across Surrey then Sussex at a very reduced speed to reach the seaside. Still flying very low and with its remaining overworked engine smoking and gradually dying, it was still able to complete most of its Channel crossing before ditching in the sea. Here the sinking Dornier began taking its trapped courageous pilot, Guenther Unger, into deep water before eventually releasing him to join his three companions floating above. Here their inflatable dinghy refused to inflate, therefore condemning the four men to many hours of anxious waiting before finally rescued by a ship of their Navy. All by now suffering from hypothermia, I’m glad to think that their lives were spared. And at some Battle of Britain anniversary celebrations 50 years later, Guenther and his gunner that shot down the Hurricane, were guests at Kenley’s reunion.

Their raid on Kenley truly was a long Hard Day, while the fact that they both survived the war is really remarkable. The chances of surviving the long war in the Luftwaffe was pretty well nil, so they had ‘charmed lives’ to-boot.

I would have liked to have met these few fellows who’d flown clean over my head in 1940 at 100 feet.

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