Leigh Village

The Messerschmidt that surrendered in Leigh

One of the most remarkable stories from Leigh's wartime years concerns a German fighter that, in effect, gave itself up over the village. The account comes from Bernard Baker, remembered locally by his boyhood nickname Butch, who grew up at 13 Lealands Avenue and spent the Second World War living in Leigh. Many years afterwards he set down his memories in a letter sent from Australia, and his story was later included by Morgan Witzel in the book Leigh in World War Two.

It was a Sunday morning, and young Bernard was getting ready to sing with the choir at church. His older brother Johnny happened to be at home on leave, serving at the time with the Glider Pilot Regiment. As the two brothers were about, a Messerschmitt ME109 came into view, flying at no greater height than a thousand feet. The black and white cross on its side left no doubt about its nationality.

The German aircraft began to circle the Village Green, then swept past the poplars standing by the church before turning once more, this time above Lealands Avenue itself. By extraordinary luck, a Spitfire appeared just as the enemy machine passed over the Baker house. It was thought to have come from the aerodrome at Penshurst. The British pilot positioned himself alongside and a little behind the ME109, and let off two or three short bursts from his machine guns, which showed as small puffs of black smoke in the sky. It seems the message was received: the two aircraft then flew together over the church, heading in the direction of Penshurst.

Bernard, naturally, could not resist following. He got on his bicycle and pedalled out along Compasses Road to the aerodrome. There he found the Messerschmitt, its distinctive yellow nose clearly visible, sitting upright on its wheels close beside the hedge. A party of five or six men was marching the captured pilot away to a Nissan hut, while the Spitfire that had brought him in ran northwards up to the buildings under its own power.

Baker later connected what he had seen with a passage in a book by Wing Commander Leonard Cheshire, which told of an RAF pilot taking an enemy aircraft prisoner in mid-air and shepherding it down to an English airstrip. Baker felt sure the Leigh episode was that very case, with the Spitfire acting as escort to the surrendering German.

The timing fits what is known: the whole affair took place at around ten or eleven in the morning, and it was considered unlikely to have occurred during the hop picking season. One puzzle remains. Paul Coldwell's father reported an ME109 crash-landing on its belly at Penshurst airfield, yet Baker always insisted his aircraft came down on its wheels. The two accounts most probably describe separate incidents, though the full story may never be entirely untangled. Baker's recollections reached a wider readership in the Parish Magazine in October 2007.