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After a quick consideration I tell the Field Marshal: “It is still pitch dark and a sortie now would have no chances of success, for I must have daylight for low level attacks on tanks and lorries. I promise to take off at dawn with my 3 squadron and the anti-tank flight for the map square you have given me. Then I will call you immediately and let you know how things look.” According to what he has told me the Reds have infiltrated westward into a lake district and are at the moment, with their armored spearhead, on a road running between two lakes. In the meantime I instruct Flg./Off. Weisbach to collect met. reports from every possible source by telephone and to have us wakened accordingly so that, taking off in the twilight, we can be over the target at break of day. A brief telephone call to the skippers of the flights and now everything goes automatically. What you have practiced a hundred times you can do in your sleep. The cook knows exactly when to put on the coffee. The senior fitter knows to a second when to parade the ground staff to get the aircraft ready. All that is necessary is the short message to the flights:

“Take off for first sortie 05.30 hours.”

In the early morning a high fog hangs over the airfield at about 150 feet. In view of the urgency of our mission and hoping that, it will be better in the target area we take off. We head S.E. at low level. Fortunately the country is as flat as a board, otherwise flying would be impossible. Visibility is hardly more than about twelve hundred feet, especially as it is not yet fully light. We have flown for something like half an hour when the fog cover drops to about ground level because we are nearing the lake district. Now I give the order to change formation owing to the difficulty of flying at 150-200 feet. For safety we fly abreast in line. I can no longer make out the shapes of my outside aircraft, they are moving in the ground mist and are swallowed up from time to time in the fog bank higher up. There is no possibility of delivering a successful attack in these weather conditions. If we were to drop our bombs it would have to be from so low an altitude that the splinters would damage our aircraft with resultant losses, which could serve no useful purpose, so that is out. Merely to have been in the target area will not help anyone today. I am glad when the last of us has landed safely. I inform the Field Marshal, and he tells me that he has received the same met. reports from the front line.

At last, towards nine o’clock, the layer of fog above the airfield shreds out a little and lifts to 1200 feet. I take off with the anti-tank flight, accompanied by the 7th to deal with bombing targets. On the fringe of the fog bank we head S.E. again, but the further we fly in this direction, the lower the cloud base sinks again. Soon we are down once more to 150 feet, visibility is fantastically bad. There are hardly any landmarks and so I fly by compass. The lake district begins, the weather remains foul. I do not approach the point the Field Marshal has given me as the location of the spearhead directly from the N.E., but making a slight detour westward I fly past it, so that when I turn round to make the attack I shall be heading straight for home, a very necessary precaution in this weather. If the enemy is as strong as he has been described he is likely to have a corresponding A.A. strength. There is no question of coming in warily under cover of hills or trees because my approach is over water, consequently the ground defense must be a consideration in choosing my tactics. To keep out of sight by popping in and out of the clouds is not advisable for a whole formation because of the danger of collision so close to the ground, though it is possible for individual aircraft. Quite apart from this consideration, the pilots would then have to give their whole attention to their flying and would be unable to concentrate sufficiently on their objective.