I was dozing in a sun lounger completely uninterested in what was going on around me. Suddenly, a piercing bell rang, and I found myself clutching my gear and dashing through the door. I felt myself running down a long corridor. Doors around me were opening and other men were running too. I felt wet grass underfoot and pulled my fleece and parachute over my head, I ran over to a magnificent spitfire and climbed up on to one of her wings. As I pulled myself down into the cockpit a mechanic started the engine. I attached my oxygen and pushed on the throttle as the warm hum of the engine came to life.  I taxied out onto the runway and took off with ease.  Once we had climbed to twenty thousand feet I saw them. As the sun rose, hundreds of dots ahead came into view. German Dornier-DO17 bombers escorted by Messerschmitt 109 fighters. I was terrified as they approached below us, oblivious to us being there. Suddenly we dived down from above them and I found myself locked on to the tail of a bomber and my thumb was quivering over the trigger button.  

Sweat was trickling down my face and the gravitational pressure on my body was immense. I couldn’t do it, I just couldn’t. Suddenly, in my rear-view mirror, I saw a Me-109 tearing down on me. I couldn’t do anything; I was frozen and motionless. I felt bullets tear through the fuselage, ripping the plane apart. I could smell burning around my ears. My worst nightmare had materialised. The spitfire started spinning and I watched the altitude meter spin down and down just like a clock, 1000, 500, 100, 10. Then there was darkness.