Day of Vengeance by Johnny O'Brien

more likely, we’ll get shot down or something. Come to think about it this was a completely bonkers idea in the first place.”
    “Might not be as easy as you think. Weather’s closing in. It seems much uglier over here.”
    Angus was right. The visibility over England had been patchy,but good enough. But as they crossed into France it got worse. It was as if they had passed into a cold front or something and in a short while they were flying between two layers of thickening cloud. Occasionally, they caught glimpses of the German convoy a mile or so ahead, but it was descending and soon it had ghosted into the cloud layer beneath.
    “We’ve lost sight of them completely now…”
    Specks of rain started to dot the canopy.
    “Can’t we go down?”
    “I can try…”
    Angus throttled back and let the Spitfire dip lower and soon they were skimming the top of the cloud layer beneath. He descended some more and suddenly it was if they were inside a ball of wet cotton wool. They were flying completely blind.
    “Whoa!” Angus shouted. He immediately pulled up and poked the plane back above the cloud. “I don’t want to do that again – couldn’t see a thing in that cloud.”
    “I think it’s getting worse.”
    The gap between the two cloud layers was narrowing and the light was diminishing.
    “What about the instruments… can we fly on those?”
    “It’s not that easy, Jack… we don’t know how low this cloud goes… we could find ourselves down at five hundred feet or something and then slam into the side of a hill…”
    Suddenly, Jack felt very frightened. The elation from surviving the dogfight had worn off. He was aching and cramped in the stuffy cockpit. Flying in the cloud, with rain and low visibility and a poorly defined horizon was extremely disorientating. Angus hadproved his worth as a pilot, but flying just on the instruments, with no visibility, took training, experience and confidence – not just a private pilot’s licence and a few hours on a home simulator, however realistic it was. Even if they descended through the cloud base, they had no idea where they were and it wouldn’t be easy to find anywhere to land. They could turn for home; but their airspeed had remained at a good two hundred miles an hour and now they were well over mainland France. They had no idea how far to turn to hit the right direction for home.
    Angus was silent. Jack knew that by now he too must realise that their situation was desperate. Despite the cloud and rain, the Spitfire arrowed on, the big Merlin engine up front running strong and smooth with an unwavering hum.
    Suddenly Angus said, “If we stay up here, we die; I’m taking us down.”
    The aircraft dropped into the thick cloud layer. Instantly the light dimmed and the rain on the canopy intensified.
    “We need to watch that altimeter and watch our trim…”
    The altimeter whirled round as they dropped through the cloud… three thousand, two thousand five-hundred, two thousand…
    “Getting low now…”
    “But still can’t see a thing through this stupid cloud…”
    One thousand five hundred… one thousand…
    “Surely, it can’t be much longer?”
    “I’m easing level at nine hundred feet. I just hope there aren’t any hills in this bit of France.”
    Jack’s heart was pumping, they were now flying at just overa hundred miles an hour through cloud that remained as thick as soup. They could only see a few metres in front of them.
    “I’m slowing again and going to go down some more…”
    Jack felt his stomach rise into his chest as the Spitfire lurched down again.
    Angus let out a sudden cry. A second later, Jack saw it. Looming out of the mist only twenty metres ahead there appeared a massive metal structure. Jack felt himself lurch sideways as Angus, with only seconds to react, cut speed and flipped the aircraft to avoid a head-on collision. Too late. There was a horrendous scraping of metal on metal. Then… darkness.

A Tour of Le