The Battle of Britain Five Months That Changed History, May—October 1940 by James Holland (z-lib.org).epub

JG 2 decided to give him a chance to prove himself. This he did,
demonstrating that, despite the glass splinters still in his eye, he could see –
and fly – perfectly well. He also proved his marksmanship by being
selected for the Luftwaffe clay pigeon shooting competition team which
beat the best civilian team in the country.
Surviving another crash – and a second medical – he was eventually
sent to Spain, where he flew over 300 missions. Opinionated, cocksure and
undeniably fearless, Dolfo soon developed a considerable reputation, not
only for his flying skill – which was considerable – but also for his
individual style and strong personality. Good-looking with a neat film star
moustache, he smoked cigars even when he was flying, and liked to
decorate his aircraft with a picture of Mickey Mouse. It made him stand out.
Most of all, however, Dolfo Galland wanted to be a great fighter pilot.
Now the war in the west had begun, it was to his frustration that he found
himself largely desk-bound as adjutant of JG 27. Two days into the
campaign, however, he decided to take matters into his own hands. On 12
May, as JG 27 was covering the Sixth Army’s efforts to cross the Maas and
Albert Canal, Dolfo attached himself to a patrol over Maastricht. Five miles
west of Liège, and at a height of some 12,000 feet, he spotted eight Belgian
Hurricanes a few thousand feet below. Diving down on them, he got behind
one with ease; the enemy planes had not spotted him or his wingman. Much
to his disappointment, he barely felt the adrenalin begin to flow; it was all
too easy. ‘Come on, defend yourself!’ he thought, as soon as he had one of
them directly in his sights. Closing further and still without being noticed,
he opened fire. It was, he knew, at slightly too great a distance, but he still
hit the Hurricane. A second burst saw bits of rudder and wings come away
and, realizing he had got his man, Dolfo went after the other seven, who
had now woken up to the presence of two Me 109s behind them. Closing in
at a hundred yards, Dolfo followed a second through some cloud and
opened fire again. The Hurricane stalled and fell out of the sky. So that was
two.
Flying again later that afternoon, Dolfo shot down a third, but at the end
of the day he felt no great sense of satisfaction, but rather a twinge of
conscience. ‘The congratulations of my superiors and my comrades left an
odd taste in my mouth,’ he noted. ‘An excellent weapon and luck had been
on my side. To be successful, the best fighter pilot needs both.’