We have been learning about the Battle of Britain this week and all about the Supermarine Spitfires! We cannot wait for our trip to RAF Hendon next week!
100 Word Challenge- ‘Up in the Air…’
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We have been learning about the Battle of Britain this week and all about the Supermarine Spitfires! We cannot wait for our trip to RAF Hendon next week!
Unless you were ever a fighter pilot in a war, you’ll never know what the inside of a cockpit feels like, when you’re skimming the water, out of ammo and have two jerries on your tail. Your brain screams at you, the plane bucks up and down and you don’t realise how sweaty you are until – if you make it – you get out. Pretty terrible thing to imagine right? But what if you weren’t imagining it? What if this was your life? What if this happened twice a day, every day, for a month? Welcome, to the Battle of Britain.
Neowwwww… Pow! I could hear them. I could sense them. The roof of the cockpit was trembling. I was trembling. My plane was in the exact wrong position. I was facing the sun and was feeling most terribly nauseous. The loneliness was unbearable. Suddenly, the feeling of spinning round and round, round and round hit me… Everything was still. Everything was silent. A ringing sound was drilling into my ears, about to snap my stapes. The ringing transformed into a German engine. Arghhhhhh! A Luftwaffe zoomed past me in a flash. Neowww… Pow!! Neoowww… Pow! The sound of my nightmares.
“chakka chakka chakka!” The sound of bullets zooming past me petrifies me. The thought of one cracking into me makes me lurch with terror. “Zink !”, ohno. I’m hit. But I’m not down. I take a sharp turn and fire 8 shots. I don’t even aim as somewhere along the way they’ll hit. I dash down just as a flurry of bullets fly overhead. I fling my plane up and right swerving round as I fire at an open targeted plane. “Pling, zing, shing!” Then, “Shoom!” It goes up in flames spiralling into the sea. A hit. I’m an ACE…
Gunshots, explosions, the pressure was shoving him into his seat. A whirlwind of bullets soared past as he climbed higher and higher into the fluffed up clouds. He felt a jolt in the back of the Spitfires tail wing, he had been hit by a bullet that had mounted more and more momentum and had hit the plane at a great speed. An R.A.F Hurricane flew past, coughing up smoke from the exhaust pipe. He accelerated further and just dodged a cascade of bullets raining down, the roof pattered of the sound of metal on metal. This was a dogfight!
Oh, sorry, planes don’t have exhaust pipes!!
The Spitfires, Hurricanes and the Luftwaffe were soaring all over the sky. I stood there watching, amazed at the Spitfire’s speed. Now, other children were coming to watch the skies with me. We cheered for the Spitfires as they were zooming through the skies while dog fighting with the Luftwaffe. As we cheered, the Spitfire shot down the Luftwaffe but suddenly, a Luftwaffe from behind shot our plane. We were shocked, as it came gliding down from the sky and into the sea, setting the sea and the plane on fire. Now, we can really see what war is like.
My grandfather was in the SAS – NOT the secret service but the Air Force. He came over as a young man from Ireland to join. He was born at the start of World War II and as a boy was obsessed with the Spitfires and Hurricanes. He loved the roaring engines of the fighter planes and dreamed of being up in the air. One of his favourite stories is about a race between the different divisions. It was about who could get from Oxford Circus in London to the Arc de Triumph in Paris fastest. I’ll tell you at school.