Last week, a plaque was unveiled in a North Yorkshire churchyard honouring a brave pilot who died in the Battle of Britain. Gavin Engelbrecht tells his story

SEPTEMBER 15, 1940. The Battle of Britain is at its height and freedom hangs in the balance.

Wave after wave of German bombers thunder across southern England. As the country faces its darkest hour, the skies are filled with the furious sounds of war.

Above Kent, in one of the seemingly never-ending bursts of action that fateful day, Flying Officer Peter Pease, 22, at the controls of a Spitfire, dives steeply, penetrating the escort of a formation of Heinkel bombers.

Pease had grown up in Richmond, and was a son of the famous Darlington family of Quaker industrialists – if he had survived the war, he would have become the third Baron Pease of Hummersknott. Eton and Cambridge educated, Pease had joined the RAF in 1938, and had already made through several dogfights. But on this particular day, there would be no happy ending...

The Spitfire levels out, closing rapidly on the formation. It opens fire, from ahead and to the right, and its tracers streaked towards the enemy planes.

At that moment, a Messerschmitt 109 appears behind the Spitfire and fires rounds into the Spitfire’s tail.

But the Spitfire continues its attack, heading straight at its target, and its rounds slash into one of the bombers.

The bombers, though, are unable to return fire for fear of hitting the Messerschmitt behind.

Only the thin plexiglass of the cockpits separates the enemies: the German airmen are eye to eye with their British counterparts – and the Spitfire’s eight flashing machine guns.

At the last moment, the Spitfire pulls up and passes very close over the top of the bomber. Then it rolls on its back and goes down steeply, trailing black smoke.

This vivid account of the battle was given later by Leutnant Roderich Gescotti, who had been flying one of the German bombers which were attacking London.

He recalled: “The action only lasted a few seconds, but it demonstrated the determination and bravery with which the Tommies were flying over their own country.”

In the picturesque village of Kingswood, a ten-year-old girl had looked on in terror at the unfolding drama above.

Barbara Sands said: “It was a very confusing time. There were so many planes coming down.

“But this incident stood out clearly. I was so near to it. It was a frightening experience.”

At about 3.05pm on that day, she watched Peter Pease’s diving Spitfire, flames and smoke pouring from its tail, clip the tops of some oak trees before crashing into the ground.

She said: “It was going towards a bungalow. I remember thinking 'I hope it is not coming down on that house’.”

It missed, but pilot Pease was dead. His body was removed by troops camped nearby and placed in a farm shed.

According to a Ministry of Defence flight report, all surface wreckage of his Spitfire, X4324 code letters XT-B, was removed by an RAF squad.

The report noted with a cutting finality: “Engine and cockpit left in crater too deep to recover."

Peter Pease was buried with full military honours, with three volleys fired over his coffin, at St Michael and All Angels, in his home church of Middleton Tyas, near Darlington.

For 50 years the remains of his Spitfire lay undisturbed, but not forgotten.

They came to light again as a result of painstaking research by David Lyne and his wife Pat, who were compiling a village history of Kingswood for their US twin town.

Mr Lyne said: “We had always heard about the aircraft coming down in field opposite our house.” He obtained a crash report and was contacted by a preservation group specialising in retrieving war planes.

Mr Lyne said: “Barbara Sands pinpointed the spot exactly, and we immediately found an instrument from the cockpit.

“The Spitfire had hit the ground at a sharp angle at about 300mph – we found sump oil from the engine at a depth of 12ft.” Among the parts recovered were a piece of engine block, perspex from the cockpit, part of a water pump, pieces of parachute and shells and a propeller boss bearing a Rolls Royce engine number to confirm it was the Spitfire they were looking for.

Mrs Lyne said: “There was an overwhelming sense of sadness in the area when the remains were excavated.”

The sombre mood which had pervaded the area was reflected that night when a “terrific dark thunderstorm” rumbled over the village, causing a power cut.

An obituary published in The Times after Pease's death recalls his “quiet distinction, without a trace of conceit”.

Last week, a plaque was unveiled in his memory beside the family plot in Middleton Tyas, so now he has a local distinction, as well.