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

The third Gruppe of JG 52 had reached Coquelles only two days before,
touching down with the white cliffs of Dover clearly visible. There were
now some nineteen airfields in the Pas de Calais area, and while some were
old Great War aerodromes with proper facilities, a number, like Coquelles,
were just rough fields. Over the previous weeks, the Luftwaffe had clearly
done little preparation here; the rye had been cut by a resentful farmer, and
the only building, a hay barn, had been turned into the Operations Room,
orderly room and quarters all rolled into one, but that was about it. The
three Staffeln of III/JG 52 were now to make their home here, their aircraft
dispersed at various points around the edge of the field. Nor was their
landing ground even flat: the ground rose slightly towards the centre and
enough to prevent someone standing on one side seeing the other. This
made massed scrambles a nerve-wracking process as pilots were never
quite sure whom they might meet as they sped across the field.
Now, after just one orientation flight, it was time to head out over the
Channel. As they climbed away from Coquelles, Günther could see the faint
shape of Cap Gris Nez through the murk on his right. Already he had a
terrible sense of foreboding. The weather and the stupidity of their orders,
gave him a feeling of impending doom.
They met up with the Stukas and even at 160 mph they were nearing
Dover in no time. Suddenly, without any warning at all, Spitfires of 610 and
54 Squadrons pounced down upon them as the Stukas began bombing
Dover and the shipping below. Günther saw Lothar Ehrlich, their Staffel
commander, turn in towards the enemy, but then as aircraft and bullets filled
the sky, it was all he could do to save his own skin. In seconds, his
Schwarm was separated, each man fighting entirely alone in a confused,
twisting mêlée. There was no longer any question of protecting the Stukas;
it was hard enough trying to defend themselves.
Somehow, Günther managed to extricate himself and make it back to
Coquelles. Climbing down on to the ground, he joined some of the others
who were already puffing on cigarettes and gesticulating wildly as they
discussed the action. ‘The Tommies caught us just as we had feared,’ noted
Günther, ‘like proverbial clay pigeons.’ None of them could understand
how the Spitfires managed to find their formation in such poor weather and
attack from such an advantageous position. Other planes were landing. Two
pilots had claimed a Spitfire each, but there were several of their own pilots
missing. As the minutes ticked by, hope began to fade. By evening, the 7th