June 2, 1940 – over Dunkirk, France
The fighter twisted and turned, trying to prevent the plane behind it from getting a clear shot. It was obvious that the pilot hoped to reach the protection of the sparse cloud cover. However, the pursuing pilot had no intention of letting that happen.
But he couldn't afford to waste ammunition, so he trailed patiently behind the first fighter, waiting until he could line up the shot. When he had the first plane clearly within his sights, the pursuer let loose with a quick burst of gunfire.
The tracers streaked across the blue sky, lighting it up with thin streaks of light. The streaks of light showed the pilot that the ammunition had not been wasted; the bullets raked the tail end of the first fighter, blowing holes in the thin metal skin of the plane. But both pursuer and pursued knew that planes could still fly with bullet holes in them.
After a moment, fluid started trailing behind the plane. The rounds of gunfire had obviously pierced at least one of the hydraulic lines. With the lines damaged, the first pilot was finding his plane far less responsive; his evasive maneuvers were slowing. The second pilot closed the distance between the two planes, moving in for the kill.
The second pilot fired another short burst of ammunition and a brilliant flash of orange lit the sky as the fluid trailing the first plane ignited. The oil lines must have also been damaged by the first hail of bullets. The nose of the first plane dropped and the flaming making fell into a steep dive. Smoke hid the cockpit from view and it was impossible to tell if the pilot would be able to pull the plane out of the dive for an emergency landing.
Still unconvinced of the plane's doom, the second pilot followed the dive, firing another burst from his guns. The first plane exploded as the flames reached the gas tank, a brilliant fireball against the sky. There would be no parachute emerging from a fireball like that.
There was no sense watching as the debris plummeted down to the beaches, so the second pilot pulled the nose of his plane up, climbing for the distant cloud bank that the first fighter had been desperately heading toward. "Aigle Un á Aigle Trois," a voice came through over the radio. "Do you copy?"
LeBeau reached out to flick his radio on. "Aigle Un, c'est Aigle Trois."
"You okay, LeBeau?" the flight leader asked.
"Oui, mon ami," LeBeau answered, flying through the other side of the clouds and wheeling around to make another pass over the beaches, searching for a new target.
"Did you get him?"
LeBeau looked down to the beaches where lines of men stretched out into the oceans. They were waiting to be delivered. "There is now one less Messerschmidt in the air," LeBeau responded. "That one was for France," he added after a moment.
"Roger that."
There were a few moments of silence before another voice broke in over the radio. This voice was panicked. "There's one on my tail! I can't loose him! I need some backup."
LeBeau turned tightly, searching the sky for his friend's plane. He spotted it and the German fighter hard on its tail. "I see you, Gauthier. I'm on my way."
"Hurry!"
LeBeau flew toward the pair of fighters, taking the extra time to circle around so he could drop in on the pair from out of the sun. Gauthier was performing evasive maneuvers as he tried to angle toward the nearest clouds. When LeBeau was in the best position he could get into in such a short period of time, he dropped in a steep dive toward the pair.
Gauthier saw LeBeau's fighter begin its decent out of the sun and started a sharp turn toward it, hoping that the German fighter would come within range of LeBeau's guns before it got him. The German fighter saw LeBeau's fighter and started moved to close the gap between his plane and Gauthier's; he wanted to make the kill before LeBeau got within gun range. But the pair had almost come within reach of LeBeau's guns.
LeBeau started to angle his fighter to get a good shot, hoping that he could finish off the German before the German finished off Gauthier. But despite his evasive maneuvers, Gauthier still remained within the sights of the German guns, a thin line of fluid trailing from his plane.
Gauthier knew that he was still within the German's sights. "LeBeau, help!" he cried, desperately as gunfire streaked toward his fighter from the German guns.
Flames began to fill the air around the French fighter in a sight that was all too familiar. The burning fighter started to lose altitude as another deadly hail of bullets ripped through the fighter.
"Aigle Deux, come in," LeBeau called, knowing that it was futile. The plane had started a dive that no living pilot would have let it enter.
"Gauthier, can you hear me?" he cried again, watching as the German fighter fired more bullets into the dying fighter. There was no answer from the bullet-riddled plane as it started to spiral, continuing its screaming dive toward the ground below.
"Gauthier, get out of there!" LeBeau yelled, hoping against hope that he would see a white parachute emerge, standing out starkly against the blue of the sky. But there was nothing.
Against his will, LeBeau found his eyes following the descent of the plane. He knew that he should be firing his guns at the German fighter, now finally within range, but he couldn't peel his eyes away from the trail of smoke and flames that followed his friend's fighter. "Mon Dieu," LeBeau whispered, "ayez pitié sur son âme."
He forced his eyes away from the doomed fighter, swinging his plane around to zero his guns on the German fighter. The fighter was pulling away from the scene of his kill, starting to circle to take on LeBeau. But LeBeau still had the upper edge and the German fighter was in his sights.
This time he had no regard for conserving ammunition. He held the trigger, watching as a long run of ammunition found its way into the German camouflage, blowing dark holes in the pattern. He was swinging into a better firing position when he saw the French fighter impact the hills, sending up a plume of dirt and a spurt of flames.
As LeBeau re-aimed his guns, he said fiercely, "This one is for Gauthier."