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

Postscript
LATER ON THE AFTERNOON of Wednesday, 28 November, Siegfried Bethke
was flying over England for the second time that day. Leading the entire
Gruppe was the recently promoted Major Helmut Wick, who now had a
staggering fifty-five victories to his name and was the youngest
Geschwaderkommodore in the Luftwaffe. Flying over the Isle of Wight at
about 25,000 feet, they suddenly spotted a formation of Spitfires, yet
although they were both travelling at about the same height, Wick decided
to lead his Messerschmitts away.
Ten minutes later, however, at around ten past five, having climbed
much higher, the German fighters found the Spitfires again and dived down
towards them. Spotting the attack, the pilots of 609 Squadron turned to fly
directly underneath the German formation, but seeing this Wick detached
three aircraft, including himself, and dived out of the sun in close
formation. As the three Me 109s sped towards them, the Spitfires began
breaking into sections, and then suddenly the Me 109s were flashing by,
guns flashing bullets and cannon shells. In the brief tussle, Wick shot down
his fifty-sixth victim, Pilot Officer Baillon, but then, just moments later,
was attacked in turn by John Dundas.
‘Whoopee!’ shouted John over the R/T. ‘I’ve got a 109.’ It was the last
words anyone heard him say, for a moment later Rudi Flanz, one of the Stab
pilots, opened fire and John’s Spitfire began plummeting down towards the
sea. Like Wick, he made no effort to bail out. In just a few seconds, two of
the best aces on each side had been killed. Few saw what had happened,
and certainly not Siegfried Bethke – the formation had already broken up
and spread out. Both the pilots of 609 Squadron and JG 2 spent long hours
of desperate search the following morning. Nothing was found. Nor was
there any sign of Pilot Officer Baillon, who had been seen bailing out into
the sea. Like Wick, his wife had been expecting a child. His body was
eventually washed up in France six weeks later, but of John and Helmut
Wick, nothing was ever seen again.
For his beloved younger brother, Cocky, John’s death was a shattering
blow. He had just been given some leave and having borrowed a car had
reached his home in Cawthorne at teatime on 1 December, shortly after the