Entry: June 7, 1941

June 7th, 1941



Syracuse, Sicily



The sun rose over the eastern horizon with it's usual grandure. The birds started to sing, breakfast was being served, and the entire base was in a fury of action. The air was thick with the sweet taste of sea salt. Already, the ground crews were at work preparing the fighters for today's escort mission to Grand Harbour, Malta. After doing my morning duties, me and my squadron assembled in the breifing tent. "Gentlemen, today you will fly escort to the He-111 bombers to strike the docks at Grand Harbor, Valetta, Malta." Said the Colonel. "Already, we lost about 10 of our bombers and the Italians arn't faring any better than us! Johannas will lead the formation of our bomber force of about 42 bombers. DO NOT STRAY FROM THE BOMBERS!!! Already, their Gladiators are being replaced by the more deadly Hawker Hurricane. The Italian's and our U-boats are doing their part in dislodging the British from this 'Island Fortress'. The British are showing no signs of loosing up, however. So stay alert! Dismissed!" We all left the tent like bees that have been shaken up in their hive. I met up with Hans after the breifing.



"Well, here we go again.." said Hans, with a tired voice.

"Cheer up, atleast we arn't in Russia!" I said in a cheerful voice.

Hans chuckled and left for his Me-109. I wished him luck and told him to stay close to me. Hans nodded as he sat down into his plane. I glanced along the flight line; a line of green and black streched back from behind me. I sat down into my plane and signled the engine to be started. The mighty Dimler engine roared as it started up. Hans followed suit as did the rest of the squadron. In an instant, the entire base was filled with the grumbling of the Dimler engines. The ground crew signled the chocks released and I gunned the engine. The grubleing of the engine turned to a whine as the throttle was pushed foward. I started my take off roll and headed into the crystal blue meditteriean sky. Hans and the others followed suit. The bombers were already above us at 10,000 feet. It took us an agonizing 12 minutes to get up to the bomber's altitude. When we got up, I looked around and kept my head on a swivel. At any moment, a Hurricane might pop out from below and take a shot at us or the bombers. It took a hellish 30 minutes before we got to the island fortress. By the time we got to the coast, I was slightly dizzy. However, It paid off. Nearing the island, Hans called out a lone Hurricane near the coast and trying to reach our altitude. I left the number 3 in charge and me and Hans charged the British plane head on.The Hurricane fired first, letting loose a barrage of .303 caliber machine gun rounds. We responded by both 20mm cannon and 7.92mm machine gun fire. The distance between us was closing rapidly! Suddenly, the Hurricane caught fire and went nose down for the icy cold Meditteriean sea (We shared credit for that kill afterwards). After a moment of calmness, a voice broke out over the radio, " Leader! We are being attacked! 5 Hurricanes have broken though....". Before the voice could finish, it let out a scream and then...silence. I looked up and saw a He-111 fall from the sky, the entire plane a flame and crew attempting to bail out. The bomber came between me and Hans, the both of us getting pelted by debris from the slayin bomber. Instinctly, we both pulled up and headed back for the bombers. What we saw was incrediable. There was 20, not 5, Hurricanes that broke though the fighter screen. The radio was a mess with messages from everyone, bomber crew and fighter pilot alike. I looked over and saw Hans giving me a fist. I clenched my fist in response and we went into the furball. It wasn't hard for me nor Hans to find a target. A Hurricane flew across my nose and I persuied him. Aiming my pipper on him, I let the lead fly and the Hurricane was shredded in an instant. Suddenly, tracers lit up around my cockpit like christmas lights. A Hurricane had gotten on my tail! However, looking farther back, I saw Hans with his guns blazing at the Hurricane. Again, the Hurricane bust into flames and headed for the sea. In two minutes, the entire squadron racked up 15 kills, 3.5 to me and 1.5 for Hans. The remaining Hurricanes retreated back to their airbases on the island. We had lost track of the bombers in the fury. While the Hurricane busied themselves with us, the bombers made it to the target and bombed the harbor. 2 bombers fell prey to the anti-aircraft artillery of the island. The lead bomber then signalned for home. We escorted the bombers back to their base before we headed to ours. After landing, I decided to spend the rest of the day with Salinda. After making my way to Syracuse, I went to her vacation home and asked if she wanted to go out and do something. She accecpted and suggested that we take her uncle's yacht around the island. We fished off the coast for the rest of the day in the clear blue costal waters of Sicily. By nightfall, we had returned back to the docks and we tied up the yacht. I took her out to dinner, this time trying out a nearby seafood restruant. We smiled and laughed as we exchanged stories from one another. After the dinner, I took her back to her vacation house. We kissed each other good night and I went back to base. Hans met me near the entrance of the base. He had a jelious look on his face as he handed me a letter. I read the letter quickly. I had been awarded the Iron Cross. I gave Hans a puzzled look as he tossed me a small box into my lap. I picked up the box and opened it up. In it was the Iron Cross and a letter from the Regional Commander, stating how proud he was of my squadron. I smiled and me and Hans made our way into the barracks.