by F. M. Worden
“Tally Ho, away we go.” I switched on my firing button, trimmed her and followed the squadron in a dive on the target. I never got off a shot; the first six squadron fighters took out all six floatplanes. We returned to the airfield and landed in about half an hour, a job well done. Most of the remaining morning my squadron sat on alert at the dispersal area
At ten-thirty a.m., we were scrambled again. Airborne, we climbed to twenty thousand feet on an easterly heading. In a few minutes, I saw what looked to be a hundred Nazi bombers with at least twenty ME 109 escorts crossing the English coast at ten thousand feet below us. The sky had turned to high, thin scattered clouds, with a strong north wind.
My Squadron Commander did not hesitate, “Tally ho,” he called over the R/T. We peeled off one at a time, I picked a Dornier 17 on the outside rear of the formation. A two second burst, followed by another, and the left engine of the bomber started to flame, a good hit. Down through this formation I went and pulled up below the flight, I put the Hurricane into a sharp climb. This new machine could really climb. Looking north, I saw three Squadrons of Spitfires joining the melee. They were intent on breaking up the escorts, they did a good job. The sky was full of shooting, diving, flaming and smoking fighter aircraft.
I made two more passes before I ran low on fuel and out of ammo. I made it back to my home airfield. Smithy and his crew had me airborne again in ten minutes. He told me the RAF said this was the biggest Luftwaffe raid England had ever had in one day. Back in the air, I could believe that, London was catching all kinds of hell. Smoke from the fires in and around London could be seen fifty miles away. Once on the north of London, I saw a Big Wing of Spitfires coming to join in the fight, looked to me like ten squadrons.
My contribution to the fight was same as before. Climb above the bombers, dive through and try to get hits as I passed an enemy plane. On a pass from the north I had just leveled off ready to make my climb when “holy shit” an ME 110 passed right over the top of me and flew straight away. All I had to do was push the firing button when he filled my wind screen, pieces of the aircraft began to fly passed me, some hit my aircraft, I was lucky no damage was done. The 110 burst into flame and exploded within one hundred yards of me, the crew never had a chance to bail out.
On my next pass, I was north of London again, low on fuel and ammo. I looked for a field to resupply, I found Hornchurch and landed. A ground crew was on my plane before the prop stopped. A WAAF climbed on the left wing and handed me a cup of tea and some crumpets. I sat in the cockpit and finished eating just as the crew finished.
Airborne again, it was the same—climbing, diving, shooting and repeating the same over and over. Around four p.m., I had had it, the bomber Gruppe formations had vanished. I headed to my home airfield and landed, Smithy directed me to my parking spot, I was completely drained of all my energy. I sat in the cockpit as Smithy and the ground crew refueled and rearmed my aircraft, Smithy climbed on the wing and told me, “Looks like the Huns have stopped for the day.”
All I could say was, “Thank God.”
I climbed out and walked {on shaky legs, I might add} to the debriefing hut. The debriefing officer spent twenty minutes on a question and answer session, he released me to get food and some sleep.
I awoke to loud knocking on my door. Half asleep, I answered to find Sarah standing there.
“May I come in?” She asked
What could I say but, “Sure, come on in.” I went and sat on the bed, she sat down beside me.
“Quite a day you had, we heard much of your time on the R/T, I was praying for you all the time.” She pulled me to her by putting both her arms around me. She kissed me tenderly on my cheek. “I love you, Tommy.”
All the emotion I had in me overflowed, I pulled her to me and kissed her hard on her beautiful lips. “I love you too, Sarah.” At that time, I loved her as much as Allie., but I came to my senses. “I can’t love you, Sarah. I have a wife and child, I love my wife dearly.”
“I know you love me, Tommy. We are here now, let’s make the most of our time together, tomorrow may never come for us.”
Chapter 6
Sarah and the USA
Sarah and I went to the NCO mess and had breakfast. While eating, Commander Martin came in and informed me I had been promoted to a Flight Officer. He also gave me orders that instructed me to be a new Squadron Leader, he told me I had to be an officer to be a squadron leader, he also said I only had one experienced combat pilot in my squadron.
At the dispersal area, the CO introduced me to my new command. They were young, real young, most of the young men were 18 and 19 years old. I questioned these pilots, most of them had very little flying time, some had as little as ten hours in an aircraft. “How in the world can I make fighters of these young men? It’s murder to send these kids against the Luftwaffe.” I gave the CO a hard look, he spun on his heels and remarked as he walked away, “You have your work cut out for you.”
Sarah was standing a few feet away and she heard all of the conversation. I looked to her. She only shook her head “no.” I dropped my head and said out loud, “Dear God, I need your help.”
Sarah joined my payer, saying softly, “God bless and be with you.”
I thanked her by saying, “You’re a real jewel, Sarah.”
She walked a few feet away, turned and put her right hand fingers to her lips and threw me a kiss, I threw one back, she walked away.
I started teaching the boys what I expected from them. “We don’t engage fighters unless we have to, Hurricanes are used to go after the bombers. We dive on the formations from above; we try to break them up, dive through and get your shots in quickly, climb back for another run.” All the boys shook their heads “yes.” I could see they knew what I meant.
On our first sortie, I lost two fighter boys, one flew into a bomber, I don’t think he meant to, he came out of a dive and rammed a Heinkel before he could turn away. Needless to say all the bomber crew and my boy were lost. The other pilot clipped wings with a bomber, my boy went down with his aircraft. The others pilots got on the job training.
In the months that followed, I worked my butt off trying to protect my boys and teach air- combat. Somehow I got thru to them, I saved a lot of our kids. With a lot of praying and God’s help, I might add.
I received letters from home quite often. Allie wrote beautiful letters and always sent pictures of our little girl and snapshots of her and the baby. Oh, how I longed to hold them and see them, I got letters from Mom and Dad. My brother Frank had checked in and was safe, that made me feel better.
I got to see Sarah a lot; she seemed to be around when I had free time. I really got to enjoy her company, we talked and walked every chance we got, I looked forward to seeing her. What a nice woman. Who wouldn’t like her? She was filling a real void in my life.
My squadron had returned from a scramble. After a debriefing, the CO came and told me to take three days off. “Take this girl of yours, go somewhere away from the war for awhile,” he demanded.
I had just got to the door of my hut when Sarah pulled up in an MG Roadster. I had to change my clothing and get my kit. We were on a road south in a few minutes, the air was cold as December was fast approaching.
She told me, “We’re going to a village my father always sent Mother, my little brother and I to spend the summer months. He would come and join us on the weekends. I love it there, I want you to love it, too.”
We arrived around seven p.m. in the south coast village of Hastings. We registered in the Hotel Royal, room # 205 front. The room looked down on the street below and the small beach that was below the sea wall. We had dinner in the hotel dining room, the people there were cordial and friendly. The cook managed to fix a splendid meal. Sarah had removed her cap and let her long dark brown hair down, she was as pretty a woman as I had ever seen, her big laughing brown eyes set in an angular face, she had a smile and laugh that could light any man’s heart, I was a goner. Feeling guilty was not enou
gh, can a man love two women at the same time? I know it’s so.
There were two other couples as guests at the hotel and twenty or so people living there. Someone put a dance record on a player {Once in Awhile by Tommy Dorsey and Frank Sinatra.} We all had a go at dancing, a most enjoyable time for Sarah and me. By eleven p.m., we retired to our room. The next hours were spent sleeping and making love to each other, she was a most wonderful loving person, how bad I am? I was feeling guilty, I told Sarah.
“Tommy,” she said, “Let’s take this time as we can, we may not be here tomorrow.” She was right, that helped my feelings.
The next day, we walked around the village and talked to the friendly village people. We hiked in the hills north of the town and stumbled into a well hidden antiaircraft battery. From the crew we learned a lot about the defense of the south coast of the UK. There had been many troops there, but since the invasion by the Nazis looked to be called off, the men were back in training for the invasion of their own of France. There were patrols by land, sea and air, also spotters all along the coast. I asked if they had shot down any enemy aircraft. The crew chief told us, “A bomber crashed and burned a meter north of us, we were damn sure we got him.” When he told us that, all the crew let out a big cheer, we visited with the boys several more times.
The day we were to leave, we had to drive at night as enemy fighters were strafing the roads all day. It was safer to travel the roads at night. On our last walk, we entered a small jewelry shop a few doors east of the hotel, Sarah wanted to shop, I wanted to buy her something. She asked the shop keeper, “Do you have a ring with an Aquarius birth stone? I want-a keepsake to remember our days spent together here in Hastings.”
He showed us a ring with a purple amethyst stone, she had to have it. I paid the man.
“I want to buy you something, Tommy.” I shook my head no. He showed us his last German wrist watch, she purchased it and wanted my old watch, I gave in.
Back at Tangmere Airfield, my days were consumed with my Squadron, flying and air combat. My charges were learning quickly, our squadron became one of the top. The Huns were not letting up, we had plenty to shoot at. Most of their bomber boys were less trained than ours, we had many sitting ducks.
I hadn’t seen Sarah in weeks, so I went looking for her. At her quarters, I ran into her friend Maggie. “Have you seen Sarah?” I asked.
“Didn’t you know? She transferred to North Weald.”
“When did she do that?”
“Soon after she came back from your trip, don’t go looking for her, I don’t think she wants to see you anymore.”
I was dumbfounded at this news, I didn’t know what to say, I just walked away in shock.
At the airfield, I had a note to see the CO. “Tom, Headquarters wants a Photographic Reconnaissance Pilot, you want the job?”
“You bet,” I answered. I was ready for something else. I checked in at Heston Airfield a day later. I was to fly an unarmed Spitfire and take pictures of different sections of the coast of France from Antwerp to Cherbourg. The headquarters wanted to know about all about the defense the Nazis were building along the coast. My Spitfire was as fast a plane that was in existence, it would outrun anything the Nazis had. Thank God, I had to use the speed all the time. I got to see some of the pictures I took; it made me do a better job knowing what to look for.
I had been on the reconnaissance job for several weeks. I decided to go find Sarah. On the first day off, I borrowed an auto and drove to North Weald, I checked with the WAAF office. They told me that Sarah had been transferred to Hornchurch. So I was out of luck finding her this day.
It was quite awhile before I got some time off. I borrowed an auto again and drove to Hornchurch., Just by accident, I found Maggie.
“Maggie, have you seen Sarah?” I asked.
“Haven’t you heard? Sarah and two other girls were killed in a raid last May, they were in a bunker that took a direct hit.”
I was devastated; Maggie could see I was in bad shape. I sat down on the ground and covered my face with my hands, Maggie sat down next to me and said, “I’m sorry, Tom, to be the one to tell you.” I couldn’t help it, the tears flowed.
Maggie sat there with me for I don’t know how long, I was so sick I wanted to die. Maggie finally got up and said, “I have a letter for you from Sarah in my quarters, I’ll go get it.” She got up and left. Soon she returned and handed me an envelope addressed to {Tom, the only man I will ever love.}
I put the letter in a breast pocket, thanked Maggie and somehow drove back to Heston. Really, I can’t remember the drive back. I sat in the car until one of the ground men asked if I was ok. I went to my quarters, laid down and went to sleep; I had never felt as bad in my life. It took days before I could make myself open and read the letter.
It was so personal and loving. I cannot repeat what she wrote. From then on, I carried the letter, a snapshot of Sarah and pictures of Allie and our little girl in my left breast shirt pocket. Any time I felt sorry for myself, I would read the letter.
I flew the Spitfire day in and day out taking pictures. The Luftwaffe came up with a new and faster Focke-Wuif 190. This aircraft was faster than even the Spitfire, we had to take new tactics to counter this threat. I got caught by two 190’s over Normandy late one evening, flying low, just off Channel waters, I made an exit for home, and the radar on our coast saved me. The two enemy fighters met a flight of Spitfires. They managed to get both Huns; lucky me. Several times I had to climb into cloud cover to escape the Focke-Wuifs, only their best flew them.
The time did anything but drag. Time passed so fast that a new year loomed shortly, I had a long flight on a Sunday. I had fallen into bed and had a long nap, a fellow pilot shook me awake. “TOM!” he yelled, “Wake up, your country is at WAR!” It took a few minutes for me to come alive. “Come to the mess, it’s all over the BBC.”
It was Sunday, December 7, 1941--- Pearl Harbor. My county had declared war on Japan. Germany had declared war on the USA, all things changed rapidly in the UK. New airfields sprung up overnight, big tent camps grew almost overnight.
I had a few days off and went to London for a short visit with my fellow American RAF fighter boys. There were ten of us serving with the RAF. In London there were American service personal everywhere, looked to me like the US was taking over the UK. We American RAF pilots didn’t know how we would fit in the scheme of things. Guess we would just have to wait and see, we saw soon enough. All American RAF pilots were offered to fly for the US 9th Air Force. We would come in as 1st LTs and we could have our own Squadron. We all agreed to join our own country’s Air Force.
In late 1942, I joined a forming P-47 fighter group, the 358th, stationed at Sunninghill Park Berks, England. Not as we were promised, not all American ex-RAF pilots, we were told the squadrons needed experienced pilots to help train the new boys, I guess it was best.
I got my first real up close look at the P-47 Thunderbolt fighter aircraft. The thing was big, I mean a monster compared to the Spitfire. The Spitfire could park under the wing of a P-47. The pilots named it the JUG, It did look like a milk jug, it weighed seven tons and was a huge plane even compared to the British Hurricane. My British friends made a lot of fun of the Thunderbolt. They said the Luftwaffe would eat us alive, Boy, oh boy, were they wrong! The first time I flew it, I knew they were badly fooled. The thing was not a climber, but oh how it would dive. If any plane got in competition with it in a dive, it lost.
American aircraft came in and filled the airfields as fast as they were completed. Hundreds of bombers - B-17s, B-24s, B-25s, B-26s, and many C-47s - appeared in the English sky. There was no shortage of American fighters either - P-38s, P-39s and even a few of the newer P-40s.
On one of my first flights to France as an American, I was flying a Spitfire. I saw for the first time a P-47 Thunderbolt Squadron in flight over France. They flew so close I was afraid of a midair collision. I thought to myself the Luftwaffe was going to have a field da
y with these new fighter pilots and I was not far from wrong. Most of the dogfights ended with an American shot down. The bombers had no better luck, half of the crews never came back from their missions.
Daylight raids needed escorts. The brass got a little wiser but not enough. They sent P-47s, but they would turn back short on fuel before the bombers got to their targets. The Huns would wait for the fighters to turn back then have a field day. God, I felt sorry for the crews who were shot down, some never had a chance. My squadron did escort duty for six months, we never got to see enemy fighters let alone have combat with them.
In late 1943, some smart brass hats got the message. The need for escorts all the way to the target and back had to be. The P-51s were equipped with drop tanks and what a difference it made to our daylight bomb runs, it cut losses in half and then some.
My Squadron got a new mission. By the way, I was promoted to squadron leader, and made a Captain. We were to go for ground attack targets. The hunter had become the hunted. The P-47 was an ideal plane for that kind of mission, the P-47 was a flying gun platform. Eight fifty-caliber machine guns, twelve rockets, it could even carry a one-ton bomb. My boys and I were tearing up the roads in France. In daylight, not much got by us, railways were another big target.
I got a letter from home from my Dad. He knew my little brother Al was here in England in the Infantry. He wanted me to try to look him up; I got nowhere. All US personnel locations were top secret, I wrote Dad back I would keep trying.
Chapter 7
The Ground War
My squadron’s basic mission was to hunt and destroy any military target we could find in occupied France. We were ordered to go no farther than half our fuel would take us. Destroy everything we could find and hightail it for home before we ran out of fuel.
