[Laughing Swordfish]

The bomber turned again, but in a more laboured way. Was that a thin stream of smoke trailing from her underbelly?

The two engineers were having the time of their lives, pumping up shells at the Halifax, and perhaps one of them really did hit, or the pilots had a bomb bay malfunction, apart from some desultory machine gun fire from which both me and Christian ducked (having been there before) but which pattered harmlessly into the sea or along the hull, she aborted her run and limped home leaving a tell-tale stream of increasingly dense smoke in her own wake.

For a moment, I found myself wishing them safe home. They are not so unlike us, risking their lives in a small team over a vast ocean with little or no hope of rescue. But there again, they were trying to kill me and fifty of my comrades.

So, not wise to stay on the surface with an annoyed pilot with a bent plane talking to his chums, and telling them exactly where you are.

"Dive, Number One"

This time at least we can go down in an orderly fashion. Christian gives the helm orders to Otto, I take my Cap off and toss it nonchalantly to one side as we level off at twenty metres.

"Just a side show men. Precautionary measure only. Am I the only one who's hungry? Let's take supper early, you Friebe, let's have at least something hot. Pass the word to Kuki".

I hope we're not into the tinned stuff already.

LS