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

altimeter he could see 2,300 metres, then 2,000 metres and then he was
clear and ahead was the green patchwork of northern England and
Newcastle itself. Having seen enough to orientate himself, he climbed a
little way again, into cloud once more, wondering where the fighters now
were. Desperately scanning the skies, he heard his wireless operator shout,
‘He’s coming!’ and then Hajo saw him too and dived once more. He
emerged through the cloud at 1,800 metres, sweeping just over fat, bulbous
barrage balloons. They had been lucky because there was a stiff wind and
the balloons had been swept forward. ‘The stiff wind,’ noted Hajo, ‘was
laying them flat like a stream does to water weeds.’
The fighters had both gone so Hajo continued onwards, following the
Tyne, sweeping left and right as flak began to open up. The really
dangerous part of the operation was about to begin. Telling the rest of the
Staffel to orbit, Hajo thought for a moment, and decided that a diving attack
would be madness, because the slowness with which they pulled out of the
dive after releasing their bombs would make them far too exposed. But by
dropping from a greater height, more calculations needed to be made, not
least the wind speed. This was crucial because their bombs would not fall
vertically but at an angle, and wind could make a huge difference to this.
These calculations took a nerve-wracking few minutes, in which Hajo’s Ju
88 was completely exposed in the clear, open sky. Hajo was sweating now;
down below, he could see the dark outline of Hadrian’s Wall, but he was not
interested in sight-seeing – he just wanted to get the job done, then get the
hell out of there.
At last his observer was finished and miraculously not a single fighter
had spotted them. Having broadcast the bomb settings to the rest of the
Staffel, he turned to begin his bomb run, which would be along the river,
flying east–west. As they reached the start point, he began his stopwatch
and rose up into the cloud ceiling. Tensely waiting for the flak to open up,
they flew on, the seconds ticking by, and then the cloud thinned and there
below was the target, just as it had looked in the photographs he had
examined. More barrage balloons, and now flak tracer whizzed past them.
‘Come on!’ thought Hajo, ‘Drop the bloody things!’ The observer looked
completely calm, his eye glued to the eyepiece. And then at last, bombs
away. Hajo hauled the plane into a climbing turn and was soon enveloped in
the clouds. Drawing a deep breath he headed south to take one last look,
peeping briefly out of the cloud. He could see smoke rising and then there