Writing for Fun
March 2016
Rock Bottom - Bob Wendelkin
'Well you have learnt about as much as I can teach you. You're on your own now. You must get as many hours in as you can and hope that luck is with you. The first few hours of combat are the most dangerous for Fighter Pilots. Good Luck and Happy Hunting,' said the Instructor to his graduating student Pilot.
'Thank you Sir, I hope I can do you proud and I hope I get a good Spitfire Squadron,' replied the young pilot.
'I've seen the lists and it seems that you are going to be posted to Hornchurch. I hope you get into my old friend's Squadron. Squadron Leader 'Robin' Hood.'
A few days later he found himself on the Underground taking him to Hornchurch where he was lucky to find transport to take him to the Airfield.
He was quickly checked through the gatehouse and told to report to the Commander's Office where Group Captain Booker was sitting at his desk.
He sat outside his office until the Commander summoned him to come through to his office. Where he smartly saluted and stood to attention.
'Ah, Pilot Office Paul Bottom, stand at ease. I've been waiting for you as a replacement. We have been quite busy these last few weeks and we need you. I've received your record from my old friend who tells me you have a lot of potential.'
'I did enjoy my training Sir, and I hope I can make my new squadron proud of me.'
'Well I don't want to put you in the front line just yet I want you to get more hours in before you go into the fight.'
'I'm sure I'm ready Sir,' replied Paul showing too much enthusiasm.
'Listen! you will do as you are told, the amount of experience you have would make the Germans who have been fighting in places like Spain and Poland split their sides laughing, Your 'Arse' or in your case your 'Bottom' would be just another trophy.'
'I've put you with Squadron Leader Maxwell's Squadron as Sqd. Ldr. Hood has left us. Maxwell is waiting for you to report to the Squadron's Ready Room now. Good Luck and remember any landing you can walk away from is a good landing.'
Paul saluted and left the Commander's Office. He asked the Adjutant where he was to go.
He was told where he was to sleep and where the ready room was located and that lunch was about to be served in the Officers Mess.
After a quick lunch Paul searched for his squadron's ready room and Sqd. Ldr. Maxwell.
'Ah Bottom I've been waiting for you,' said his squadron commander.
'Please Sir, I'm called Bootham not Bottom,' replied Paul.
'But it's spelt Bottom; I knew a lady who called herself Bouquet when her name was spelt Bucket, you're not related to her are you?'
'Well Sir, she could be my Aunt Hyacinth.'
'Come and meet the squadron, you will be in my A Flight for time being.'
They left his office and went into to ready room where several pilots were lounging around in armchairs.
'Men, this is Pilot Officer Paul Bottom, he has just joined us from training. I want you to try to look after him for at least a few sorties.'
'Hello, Bottom, I think we will call you 'Rock'. Rock Bottom you see?' said one of the pilots, and they started to laugh.
'My name is pronounced Bootham not Bottom,' replied Paul.
'From now on you will be our 'Rock' to us,' replied another pilot.
A few hours later he was sitting in the cockpit of a Spitfire, the engine had been started by a member of the ground crew. Things seemed just as they had when he was training. He moved the controls and could see that the ailerons moved and moved his feet and felt the rudder move from side to side. He looked across where he could see his flight commander waving to him to move the aircraft to the end of the runway and he followed him.
'Okay Rock, let's go,' said Maxwell.
Together they weaved their way to the runway, they had to weave as the view from the cockpit of a Spitfire on the ground is not very good. Then Maxwell radioed to get permission to take off for a training flight.
Paul eased the throttle control and the Spitfire accelerated down the runway and eased into the air. Maxwell pulled to his side and slightly in front of him. They climbed to ten thousand feet.
'I'm going to fall behind you and try to attack you as if I'm a German, you had better try to avoid me.'
Maxwell fell behind and when there was a suitable distance he radioed that he was coming.
Paul frantically searched his mirror looking for Maxwell, then he saw him flying directly at him. Paul had been told what he should do but somehow this seemed wrong, so he rolled the Spit and pulled towards Maxwell then he pulled a very shape turn to the right and quickly to the left and rolled the Spit into being inverted went into a steep dive for a few hundred feet re-inverted and pulled into a steep climb. He looked around but Maxwell was nowhere to be seen.
'Where are you Sir?' asked Paul.
'I've lost you, nice flying now make your way back to base,' replied Maxwell.
Paul wasn't familiar with the landmarks of the area but he knew that Hornchurch was north of the Thames. Soon he spotted Fords in Dagenham and he knew where Hornchurch was in relation to Fords.
'Permission to land?' said Paul as he came into land.
Soon Paul had landed and made his way back to the ready room. Where Maxwell had already landed and was in his office.
'That was an excellent bit of flying where did you learn that trick it wasn't at training school was it?' asked Maxwell.
'No Sir it just seemed the right thing to do,' replied Paul.
'I think you are what we call a natural flyer. I'm going to put you on full duty right away, but try to keep out of trouble until you have more experience,' said Maxwell.
'Yes Sir, Thank you, Sir,' as Paul left the office.
The next day the squadron was called to readiness the men of his squadron made their way to their aircraft and sat in the cockpit waiting to be called on. They were then called on to start their engines.
Paul thought that in a few minutes he will be up there in the blue trying to survive and shoot down an enemy. Soon they were called on to take off. He then realised it was the 15th of September and it was his twentieth birthday, he wondered if he would see twenty-one.
Over the radio came a message for them to climb to Angles One Five and head towards the south of the Thames Estuary. The squadron all took off together and over the Radio Sqd. Ldr. reminded Paul that he was to stay close to him as his wing man.
They climbed steadily east and over Canvey Island they turned and headed towards Rochester.
Over the Radio came another message that the enemy should be insight at about 12,000 feet.
'Okay I can see them let's go get them,' said Maxwell.
The squadron then started to dive onto the Bombers but before they could really do any damage they were jumped by a flight of ME 109s. Although Paul did his best to keep with his leader very soon in the chaos of the Dog Fight he found himself on his own. Then out of the sun came a ME 109 with his guns blazing. Paul felt his plane shudder as the cannon shells smashed into his Spit. Soon his engine started to smoke and flames started to come into the cockpit.
Paul thought to himself, I've got to get out of here and dammed quickly. He inverted the plane and pulled back the cockpit cover and fell out of the plane. His parachute opened and he was able to see that he was floating gently towards Manston.
His Squadron was nowhere to be seen and the scrap was over and the survivors headed back to Hornchurch and a nice cup of tea.
Once in their ready room they gave details of their kills and near misses.
'It looks like the Germans have really done it this time as they seem to have 'Hit Rock Bottom' by taking Paul out of the game,' said Maxwell to his Squadron.
Just then the phone rang with a message from command that Pilot Office Paul Bottom had parachuted safely into Manston and he should be back with the squadron in the morning.
'Good for Old Rock,' cheered those in the ready room.