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

Eventually emerging from the mêlée, but without his wingman, Julius
climbed and then over the Solent saw another tussle going on between Me
109s and Spitfires. Chasing after one of the British fighters, he got on its
tail and opened fire. The Spitfire immediately turned away, but Julius
followed, the two weaving ever lower over the Isle of Wight. At last, after
one more burst from Julius’s guns, the Spitfire began to smoke. With a
sense of satisfaction, Julius now prepared to give the fighter the killer burst.
Glancing behind to check there were no British fighters creeping up behind
him, he was surprised to see two trails of smoke, one black and one white.
But turning back to the enemy in front of him, he could see only one, a
black trail from the Spitfire. With a sinking heart, he glanced down at his
temperature gauge and saw his worst fears realized: the needle was stuck at
its hottest limit. Somehow during the fighting, a stray bullet must have
punctured his radiator, because he now had a glycol leak. The white smoke
was his.
His mind raced as he pulled away from the Spitfire. There was no
chance of getting home, and now the engine had begun to cough and
splutter. His only chance was to try and gain as much height as he could and
then bail out. As he pulled his Messerschmitt into a climb, the engine began
to struggle more and more and then packed up entirely, flames suddenly
spreading back from a joint in the cowling around the engine.
Julius jettisoned the canopy but he was still horribly low – maybe only
thirty or forty metres high. He had no chance of bailing out now. He called
up his Gruppe leader on the R/T and told him he was on fire and going to
attempt to crash-land.
‘Where are you?’ came the reply.
‘For a moment,’ says Julius, ‘I thought about saying something
dramatic but I couldn’t think of anything, so I said nothing. I did think this
might be it, though.’ Below him, the ground, rushing ever nearer, looked
hopelessly unsuitable: all hills and woods and hedges. Opting for what he
thought looked the least bad, he aimed for a sloping newly harvested
cornfield. Suddenly the left wing touched the ground, but fortunately took
the force of his landing rather than fatally cartwheeling him, and spinning
around, Yellow 6 finally came to a halt with a jolt that made Julius knock
his head hard against the metal frame of the windscreen. Dazed, he tried to
gather his wits, unbuckled his harness, and clambered down.