I’ve been thinking about what our growling, gloomy but somehow inspirational new Prime Minister (as of May this year) has said in the past few weeks. When we realised that we’d been thrown out of France and that here in Blighty we were facing our worst fear of German invasion, Mr Churchill showed great spirit, I thought. There was that speech he made at the beginning of the month – the fourth of June I think – when he said that ‘we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be.’

And then just last week he said that the Battle of Britain is about to begin and urged everyone to brace themselves to their duties. I know that lots of people aren’t so sure about Mr Churchill – they think he’s a romantic and an adventurer but probably not a great prime minister and certainly not a good military tactician (I remember my father talking about the Dardanelles). But I like him. His words give meaning to what I’m doing. I feel that I’m bracing myself to my duties now, just like he said – taking to the skies in my Hurricane to help defend the country. That’s why I’ve decided to start writing this diary. I want to have a record of what is about to happen – something to show our children after the war is over. I hope.

Of course we all felt pretty cheesed off when we realised we were beaten in France – and the boys in my squadron saw it all from the skies as we escorted the retreating army back to Britain and protected the convoys from the German planes, doing three tiring sorties a day. But in some ways it’s easier now. We can see what this battle is going to be about, unlike the war until now, or the whole of the First World War in which my father was an officer. This is going to be a battle to protect the country and in that sense it is better to be without the French. It is a straightforward battle between Churchill and Hitler, Britain and Nazi Germany, the Royal Air Force against the Luftwaffe, my Hurricane against a Messerschmitt.

In a way it still seems quite sudden that we should be facing the full force of the Luftwaffe. When I think that this time last year I was still in the RAF Reserves and working in my father’s bank up in St Albans. But then I was called up and learnt how to fly (in those slow Avro Tutor and Bristol Bulldog biplanes that are totally different from the Hurricane I’m in now) and eventually made my way here to Biggin Hill in Kent where the chaps called me ‘Sherry’ and from where we’ve been flying over northern France and patrolling the Channel. I know that we’ve already seen quite a bit of action, that I’ve chalked up a couple of kills (one Messerschmitt fighter, one Heinkel bomber), and sadly we’ve lost a few of our best boys, but I’ve still got a feeling that the real action is only just about to begin – just like Churchill said.

The other big difference between now and a year ago is that I’m now married to Jane. I wonder if I should tell her the truth about the fact that I’m half looking forward to what is to come. I worry that I shall make her more scared if I do so. There’s also a small part of me that is afraid too, though I wouldn’t mention that to the other chaps, or to Jane. More than anything, I feel that I have a duty to do and that I not only intend to live up to doing my duty in name, I shall do it in spirit too. Helped, I hope, by Churchill’s words of encouragement.

For the time being, we’re continuing to patrol the Channel, but everyone here expects it to get very ‘hot’ very soon.