The Spitfire's job was to engage the enemy's fighters, to draw the Messerschmitts away from the German bomber formations. Then, when the Bf-109s were out of position, the Hurricanes would attack the bombers. That was the plan, but it didn't always work out that way. Hurricane pilots found themselves fighting Messerschmitts as often as did the Spitfire pilots.  German pilots had a great deal more respect for the Spitfire than for the Hurricane. The standard wisecrack among Luftwaffe fighter pilots was that the Hurricane was "a nice little plane to shoot down." But this could be attributed to Spitfire snobbery-no German fighter pilot wanted to admit that he had been badly shot up by a fighter made of fabric and wood. Some Spitfire pilots shared that bias in regard to the Hurricane. A former pilot of No. 65 Squadron admitted that he had become slightly partisan on the relative merits of the Hurricane and the Spitfire, and noted "I would not like to have been a Hurricane pilot in 1940 and greatly respect the courage and achievements of those who were." Among RAF pilots, the Spitfire-vs.-Hurricane controversy went on and on, with no quarter given by either side. And the argument was not always confined to the officers mess.  Shortly before the Battle of Britain began, a practice air raid had been arranged between a Spitfire squadron and a Hurricane squadron. The Hurricanes were to make a mock bomb run over the Kenley airfield in Surrey. Number 64 Squadron was to send six Spitfires to intercept the incoming "bombers." It all looked like a nice, easy practice drill on paper, but whoever planned the exercise had not reckoned on the rivalry between Spitfire and Hurricane pilots. Each side thought its own airplane was the best. Now they had their golden opportunity to demonstrate which fighter really was superior, once and for all. The exercise began according to plan-the Spitfires patrolled above their aerodrome, and the Hurricanes showed up flying in bomber formation. But when the Spitfires dove to the attack, the plan quickly fell apart. When the Hurricane pilots saw their adversaries closing from behind, they broke formation and turned to meet their attackers--a highly unbomberlike maneuver! For the next several minutes, the two squadrons chased each other for miles in all directions. The strain of dogfighting quickly wore down the pilots' enthusiasm, and both squadrons landed after several minutes of wild aerobatics. Despite the great effort, however, nothing was accomplished by the little drill. Nobody's skills at breaking up bomber formations had improved, and neither side could brag about a clearcut victory over the other. But at least it had given the pilots something else to argue about.  The pilot at the controls of either a Hurricane or Spitfire was not the most comfortable person in the world. Both machines may have had their good points and bad points, but no one ever praised either one for its comfort or luxury. According to Wing Commander Raymond Myles Beacham Duke-Woolley, who flew with the all-American Eagle Squadrons, a fighter pilot was a lonely man. The cockpit was so narrow that his shoulders brushed against the sides whenever he rubbernecked for enemy fighters (which was constantly); his flying helmet, with his radio headset, covered his ears; his nose and mouth were covered by an oxygen mask, which also contained his microphone. He could not hear very well-even the engine roar was muffled; his vision was severely restricted, and his entire body was boxed in by the confines of the cockpit. He was, in short, not only lonely but also extremely uncomfortable. The pilot's disposition was not improved by the fact that he was traveling at speeds in excess of 300 mph, and he felt even more anxious when a pilot in another machine-probably just as uncomfortable-began shooting at him.  Die-hard defenders of the Hurricane are quick to comment that the Hawker aircraft is credited with shooting down more enemy aircraft than the Spitfire. The Air Ministry confirmed this with its statement, "The total number of enemy aircraft brought down by single-seater fighters was in the proportion of 3 by Hurricanes to 2 by Spitfires," and also noted, "the average proportion ... of serviceable [aircraft] each morning was approximately 63 percent Hurricanes and 37 percent Spitfires." A cynic might be tempted to say that the Hurricane did most of the work, but the Spitfire got most of the glory. And the cynics would have a point. For in spite of all the facts, it is the myth that is best remembered-the myth of the Spitfire taking on the air fleets of the Luftwaffe single-handedly. In their jubilee edition of The Battle of Britain, Richard Hough and Denis Richards give their own version of the Spitfire myth: "The Battle of Britain, despite Fighter Command's being down to its last few aircraft, was won by unfailingly cheerful young officers flying Spitfires ... and directed by "Stuffy" Dowding ...... The reason for the Hurricane's second-class status was that it was competing not with another fighter, but with a genuine legend. William Green wrote: "The Supermarine Spitfire was much more than just a highly successful fighter. It was the material symbol of final victory to the British people in their darkest hour, and was probably the only fighter of the Second World War to achieve legendary status."  The fact that the Hurricane was responsible for more enemy aircraft destroyed is eclipsed by the Spitfire's graceful silhouette and romantic legend. Glamour usually outshines performance, in war as in love. Both aircraft were modified many times as the war progressed; they were given larger engines, more spacious cockpits, and 20mm cannons. Both also saw active service until World War II ended in August 1945. Although they served on other fronts from Malta to Singapore, they reached their pinnacle during the high summer of 1940, when the Spitfire and Hurricane joined forces to thwart the Luftwaffe over the green fields of southern England. In spite of their differences, both in origin and in performance, the two fighters became counterparts. Together, they turned the tide of history's first great air battle. |
