Wednesday afternoon, 8th March was a day of great excitement caused by a colossal air raid by American planes. The alarm sounded at about 1.30pm and the sky was very soon full of planes and vapour trails, whilst the air reverberated to the sound of aircraft engines. There was no “flack” at all within our range of vision, but a number of dogfights. Whilst we in the sand pit were engrossed with the performance a four-engined American bomber came up in our rear over the pine woods at a height of 40 or 50ft. It was attacked by two Messerschmidts and “flack” right above our heads. Shells and bullets were flying in ail directions, one shell bursting on a tree trunk slap up against our hut, and didn’t we move for cover. I dived behind a small truck and rolled onto my back in order not to miss anything. Our plane was forced down apparently with engine trouble but without being hit.