They probably never even saw us coming.
The lumbering Harvard trainer was a sitting duck, droning north over
Northamptonshire under leaden skies. It was canary yellow with US markings,
probably hoping to punch through the cold front and pick up the A1 north of
Kettering.
We closed on her fast from dead astern, the Messerschmitt’s engine note a
thrilling roar.
“Ven you have her in range you may fire at will,” I yelled into my headset.
My pilot chuckled. He pressed the fire control button and ahead of us tracer
bullets blazed through the sky. Almost. What actually happened was that he
blatantly disobeyed my order, allowing the Harvard to escape and leaving us
to circle over a couple of stately homes with nothing more menacing than a
“Gott Straf England” insignia on our fuselage.
There were several reasons for this. One: we had no guns. Two: we weren’t
actually at war. (We’d been waiting most of the afternoon for Raef from the
Apprentice to go up in this same Messerschmitt while its pilot practised for
an English Heritage history festival that will happen this weekend at
Kelmarsh Hall.)
Three: the pilot had more important things to do. It was true that we’d been
closing on the other plane, but rather than blow it out of the sky the idea
was to sidle up to its port wingtip so that our photographer, neck cricked
in the Harvard’s back seat, could capture the sight of an ME-108 over lush
Middle England in 2008 in all its hair-stiffening strangeness.
When an editor asks if you’d like to go up in a Messerschmitt, you say yes.
It's even rarer than the chance to fly in a Spitfire. The ME-108 isn’t as
powerful as a Spit or even the ME 109 that gave the RAF such trouble in the
Battle of Britain, but it is older than both, with huge cachet in the
warbird fraternity.
“Smooth and perfectly formed,” said our pilot, James Pittock, fondling its
ancient controls as we went through our safety checks.
He looked up at the sky above Sywell aerodrome. “Bloody grey and miserable,”
he said. Just the sort of weather for not flying, in fact. I knew this
having made myself a minor expert on women who ferried planes for the RAF in
the war and too often killed themselves by flying into cloud. They weren’t
trained in blind flying and often didn’t have the instruments for it anyway.
We were in a similar boat, so to speak. The Messerschmitt’s permit did not
allow blind flying. The only difference was Herr Pittock, a consummate
professional who flies Russian billionaires round the world in business jets
for a living and seemed reasonably relaxed about the cloud.
And there was one other thing: Raef had gone up despite claiming to be scared
of flying. How could we not?
Sorry to be pedantic, but the Messerschmitt 108 & 109 have never been known as Me108 & 109. They're Bf 108 & Bf 109. The 108 & 109 were designed by the Bayerische Flugzeugwerke company (Bf), which was renamed Messerschmitt (Me) in July '38. Only aircraft designed after then were designated as 'Me'.
J. Bowler, Manchester, UK
No one I know that follows historic aircraft wants to see an Me 108 but definitely a 109 or Fw190.
Roger, Epping,
H. Gee, that would be the venerable B-17 Flying Fortress.
C. Heathcote, Brick,
The "Flying Fortresses" are nowadays known as "B17"
Jordan, Saint-Rraphael, France
Living history does so much to bring the romance of history alive. This should bea good show for the parents and their kids.
While it is a war without casualties, horror or price, it is a good chance to see what everyday life in other times was all about.
lee, Sterling, US
I remember going inside and playing around a shot down Messerschmidt 109 as a 10 or 11 year old when I lived in Chesham, Bucks during the second WW years. We lived near Bovingdon Airport where the USA 'Flying Fortresses' ( now known as B9 ?) were stationed. So I do feel misplaced nostalgia.
H.Gee, London, UK
It's Messerschmitt, Giles, not Messerschmidt...
Alan Clunnie, Warwick, UK