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My grandfather was a Polish pilot when the Germans invaded, his airbase quickly found itself in a pocket as the Germans blitzed through the countryside, he flew 3 combat missions that day in a biplane, most of his squadron were shot down, eventually at the end of the day he was one of only 2 pilots remaining, his plane was fully fueled but out of ammunition. He decided that rather than be captured he'd attempt to escape the pocket.
He took off at might with only his maps and flew directly towards the Czech border at little above tree height, eventually the plane got low on fuel so he climbed and prepared to find a suitable landing strip. He crash landed in a feild just north of Grodna and managed to make his way to the town. He was arrested but later interviewed by British diplomatic staff before he was taken to England and immediately enrolled into the RAF.
He flew Hurricanes at first, then Spitfires, he was shot down over France and suffered sever head injures, blinded in his right eye and partially paralyzed down the right side of his body. Within 4 months he was flying Lancaster's and saw out the war burning German cities and industrial zones.
He married the french nurse who brought him back from the brink of death and together they settled in the Englishg countryside, raised a family. He very rarely spoke of his adventures and much of this was discovered after his death when his journal was found hidden behind a bookcase in his study, next to a loaded Luger he'd managed to keep ahold of.
