~S~
Just been reading some of this…
http://www.spitfireperformance.com/spit1vrs109e.html
This bit really stood out…
P/O David Crook, with No. 609 Squadron at Middle Wallop, published an interesting account in his book of his most successful day of the Battle of Britain, 30 September 1940:
It was now obviously a matter of moments only before we were in the thick of it. I turned my trigger on to 'Fire', increased the engine revs. to 3000 r.p.m. by slipping the constant speed control fully forward, and 'pulled the plug', i.e. pushed the small handle on the throttle quadrant that cuts out the automatic boost control thus allowing one to use emergency power.
A few seconds later, about six Me. 109s flew across right in front of us. I don't think they saw us till too late as we were coming out of the sun. Michael was leading Blue Section and I was leading Green, and immediately we swung our sections round and turned on to the tails of the enemy. They saw us - too late - and tried to escape by diving.
We all went down after them in one glorious rush and I saw Michael, who was about a hundred yards ahead of me, open fire at the last Messerschmidt in the enemy line. A few seconds later, this machine more or less fell to pieces in mid-air - some very nice shooting on Michael's part. I distinctly remember him saying on the R.T., 'That's got you, you bastard,' though he never recollects it!
The victim that I had selected for myself was about 500 yards ahead of me, and still diving hard at very high speed. God, what a dive that was! I came down on full throttle from 27,000 feet to 1,000 feet in a matter of seconds, and the speed rose with incredible swiftness - 400 m.p.h., 500, 550, 600 m.p.h. I never reached this speed before and probably never shall again. I have a dim recollection of the sea coming up towards me at an incredible rate and also feeling an awful pain in my ears, though I was not really conscious of this in the heat of the moment. I pulled out of the dive as gently as I could, but the strain was terrific and there was a sort of black mist in front of my eyes, though I did not quite 'black out'.
The Messerschmidt was now just ahead of me. I came up behind him and gave him a terrific burst of fire at very close range. The effect of a Spitfire's eight guns has to be seen to be believed. Hundreds of bullets poured into him and he rocked violently, then turned over on his back, burst into flames and dived straight down into the sea a few miles off Swanage. The pilot made no attempt to get out and was obviously dead. I watched him hit the water in a great cloud of white foam, and then turned round to see what else was going on.
A few of our Spitfires were chasing Messerschmidt's all over the place and obviously a very nice little massacre was in progress, as a few seconds later I saw another Hun go into the sea. I then saw another Me. 109 going back to France as hard as he could and I chased him, caught him fairly easily, and put a good burst into him. He swerved slightly, his cockpit covering broke off the machine and flew just past my head and he then dived steeply.
I waited to see him hit the water, but he was only shamming, as he flattened out again just above the sea, and continued full speed for home, though his machine was now smoking and obviously badly hit.
For the first time in this war, I felt a certain pity for this German pilot and reluctant to finish him off. From the moment I saw him, he had no chance of escape as my Spitfire was so much faster than his Messerschmidt, and the last few moments must have been absolute hell for him. I could almost feel his desperation as he made this last attempt to get away.
But if I let him go, he would come back to England another day and possibly shoot down some of our pilots. In the few seconds during which all this was happening, I did not consciously make these reflections; my blood was up anyway and I was very excited, but distinctly remember feeling rather reluctant.
However, I caught him up again and made no mistake this time. I fired all my remaining ammunition at very close range, and he crashed into the sea, going at a terrific speed, and disappeared immediately. I circled round the spot, but there was no trace of anything.