Air Experience
I walked out of the plane and I saw the aerodrome of Greece. It was the early phase of World war II and I was recruited as a Junior Pilot Officer, one below a Corporal, in the Royal Air force of the British Imperial Army. The runway was just a little strip of flat land surrounded with wild grass and flowers blossoming blue and yellow and red in their millions around me bordered by brown craggy mountains with a sea at a distance. It was springtime here and a gentle breeze was flowing from the sea beyond Piraeus.
I got my Hurricane parked by a fellow pilot and reported to the biggest of the scattered tents which I supposed to be the command center. The commanding officer was not a very courteous man to speak and just took my details, directed me to my tent and put me to fly the very next day. The situation was dicey here. We had just 15 hurricanes to match with the fleet of a 1000 German planes consisting of Messerschmitt 109s and 110s, ju-88s and suktas. While I was flying the next day, I was told through the communication system to move south-east and gun down the bombers. I flew towards the bombers or Ju-88 and found there were six of them. I throttled my engines to full speed and pushed the fire switch while chasing the furiously at a ridiculously low height. I did manage to get one of them by shooting at its engine. Smoke came out pouring from it. Now twice or thrice a day I was scheduled to give air cover to the evacuating navy. We were gunned down to 7 fighter jets by the Germans. Many a time there were bullet holes in my prop but the rigger spun magic his hands and patched it up skilfully. The remaining of us in the squadron complained that we could not tackle the hopeless situation in Greece. The matter was reported in England and fresh orders came for us to move to Crete.
As soon as we were about to take off the Germans raided our base and came in like a swarm of bees. We hurriedly left but the small passenger aircraft which was supposed to carry the
I got my Hurricane parked by a fellow pilot and reported to the biggest of the scattered tents which I supposed to be the command center. The commanding officer was not a very courteous man to speak and just took my details, directed me to my tent and put me to fly the very next day. The situation was dicey here. We had just 15 hurricanes to match with the fleet of a 1000 German planes consisting of Messerschmitt 109s and 110s, ju-88s and suktas. While I was flying the next day, I was told through the communication system to move south-east and gun down the bombers. I flew towards the bombers or Ju-88 and found there were six of them. I throttled my engines to full speed and pushed the fire switch while chasing the furiously at a ridiculously low height. I did manage to get one of them by shooting at its engine. Smoke came out pouring from it. Now twice or thrice a day I was scheduled to give air cover to the evacuating navy. We were gunned down to 7 fighter jets by the Germans. Many a time there were bullet holes in my prop but the rigger spun magic his hands and patched it up skilfully. The remaining of us in the squadron complained that we could not tackle the hopeless situation in Greece. The matter was reported in England and fresh orders came for us to move to Crete.
As soon as we were about to take off the Germans raided our base and came in like a swarm of bees. We hurriedly left but the small passenger aircraft which was supposed to carry the