By the end of August the Battle of Britain was at its height and the RAF was beginning to feel the strain. The constant raids on 11 Group airfields the previous month had to take its toll and now replacement pilots were becoming something of an issue. However, the Luftwaffe was not having an easy time of it either. Losses were high and no matter how much Luftwaffe intelligence told them that the RAF were down to its last handful of fighters, the Hawker Hounds were always there as if by magic.
The Luftwaffe fighter Pilots had initially dismissed the Hawker Hound as an inferior machine and it’s true that their BF219 was more modern, faster and had a better rate of climb. However, in the hands of a competent pilot the Hound was as slippery as an eel and could even out turn you and how she managed such a good rate of roll with those huge Kestrel Electrics was still a surprise. They did burn well though but first you had to catch them.
There was the promise of the Two Nineteen replacement that would bring Messerschmitt’s single engine uncoupled thrust fighter to the front line but this was still only a promise and at this moment none of that seemed to matter any more to Oblt Wilhelm Fronhofer, the pilot of the forced down Messerschmitt at Ulcombe.
Fronhofer was on his way by truck under armed guard to an internment camp and was remembering a common conversation often overheard in the mess and not too long ago either. In short it was the fact that being shot down over England was not a problem as the Army would liberate you in a few short weeks. Such was the confidence at that time but he and many others were beginning to have doubts.
Secondly, and more importantly, he was not at all sure that he had been shot down by a Hound. There were certainly Hounds in the area and he had chased one earlier but then a sleek shape came at him from nowhere and then all his concentration was on loud bangs, vibration and rapidly failing port engine. He lost quite a lot of height while regaining control and diverting power from the remaining good engine to both lift generators. However, the machine was badly damaged and he needed to get her down and that is why he was riding in the back of this English truck with an English guard and an English rifle pointing at him. He turned his attention to thinking on how long the war might last.
The Supermarine Spectre 1a began equipping front line squadrons on August 27th 1940 and, as can be expected, the arrival of such a potent fighter at this point in the battle did nothing for the moral of the Luftwaffe. Bomber crews had been taking some severe mauling’s from the Hound nicknaming it “Höllenhund” and were totally dismayed that even as their own service continued to advise how bad the situation was for the English, the RAF still managed to introduce a fighter superior to even the Two Nineteen.
Fronhofer sighed, took the offered cigarette from the guard and looked out the back of the truck which was passing yet another field with a German aircraft in it.