Pretty hot for such a short trip, and I must say I didn't like going in so low. LeBlanc spotted a Ju-88 coming in behind us after we'd crossed the coast. He hit it, but of course the thing kept coming. Fortunately, we still had enough altitude to take evasive action. Packard, at Mid-Upper, took a shot at it to port, and then it appeared dead ahead. Madden hadn't moved to the bomb sight yet — he and Packard poured lead into it and took it down!
I'd heard the "flak so thick you could get out and walk on it" stories from the old timers, and now I believe them! It was everywhere. We only caught one burst, knocking out the autopilot, wounding Lewis (our new navigator) and destroying his instruments. It also threw Madden's run off — for the sake of the French below us, I can only hope it was very far off.
LeBlanc's eyes were sharp tonight, and he spotted a Me-110 behind us after we'd turned for home. He missed it, but Packard hit it as our evasive maneuvers put it to port, and it didn't come back.
We wandered a bit over Home Counties as Lewis navigated by landmarks, and I'm glad my old flight instructor wasn't there to witness my landing, but we all made it back, and that's what counts.
F/S Thomas King
Pilot, Marie
June 7, 1944
22 Peckham Damage Points.