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The next day the Stuka came back and this time one of our lads had got a Bren gun mounted on a tripod. We were sitting under an olive tree enjoying the shade when we heard the Stuka a long time before he got to us. I stayed put under the tree with the others but one of our blokes dashed out to where the bren was mounted and was shouting "come on you b----d have a taste of this" and pulling back on the cocking handle he swivelled round to get a bead on the now approaching Stuka. Because he was not under cover, the Stuka pilot spotted the movement changed course and began his dive at the same time. He opened up with machine guns. We got round the other side of the tree while screaming to the bloke to leave it and take cover. But he was so obsessed with the Stuka and he ripped off the used magazine. While he was putting the new magazine on, it looked like a huge blast of wind and big hail slammed him to the ground and he stayed there still, and the Stuka climbed up and away. I didn’t know his name, I wished I did but I think that bloke should have got the highest award. Some one did get his dog tags and I heard him say,” you will always be remembered mate, no question, and ah’ll see to it yu git a medal”.