Wilson nodded, got up and made his way back to the squadron.
His CO and the debriefing officer made their way to the Station Commanders office.
The Station Commander greeted them sombrely.
‘Another one Harris?’
The Squadron Commander nodded.
‘Well, that’s the third this week; all in different areas but generally all the same story. And to add to our troubles, over forty reports of thunderous noise from the inhabitants of the east coast. We can’t keep ignoring this. It’s now clear that Gerry has some fantastic secret weapon – and I’d stake my life on it being a jet fighter. I’m going to see the PM again this afternoon. He needs to be convinced’
The Station Commander left for Downing Street some twenty minutes later and was greeted by C-in-C Fighter Command, Sir Hugh Dowding on his arrival. As they entered the Prime Minister’s office they found him puffing on one of his habitual cigars.
After they had all settled, it was the Prime Minister who broke the silence.
‘Well, gentlemen, what the hell is going on!’
13
An airfield in Denmark later the same day
The pilot looked closely at the Me 262 gun-camera film on the light table. It confirmed clearly that the Spitfire had been destroyed completely.
The pilot turned to Reichsmarschall Goering with a grim smile on his lips.
‘You can tell the Fuhrer that we are ready.’
***
Somewhere Over Norfolk
Date Unknown
‘What the hell was that?’ yelled Stumpy from the front cockpit.
‘Lightning, Stumpy – and get the bloody jet back straight & level, we’re passing through six hundred feet and descending fast!’
Stumpy reacted immediately and pulled the aircraft sharply back up to one thousand feet above ground level. It wasn’t like him to lose his concentration like this, but the flash of lightning had been incredible. He’d never experienced anything like it before.
Todd quickly scanned the cockpit and asked Stumpy to do the same. Everything seemed OK except that the main compass was spinning rapidly and the Main Computer would need to be recycled. The TACAN navigation equipment was unlocked but they could live without that. Todd glanced outside and was somewhat relieved to see that the guilty CB was moving away to the east, and as he looked up he could see his formation – still circling above. It was time to do a quick radio check and see if any other aircraft in the formation had suffered similar damage.
‘Purple, check?’
Silence.
‘Purple, CHECK?’
And then after a five second pause, it came,
‘Red, Blue……..Green…………..Yellow all aboard.’
All aboard told Todd that the entire formation of fourteen aircraft was still with him. His relief was palpable.
‘Roger, all loud & clear. Be advised that Purple lead has suffered a serious lightning strike and is currently assessing the damage and preparing to return to base. Blue lead, can you inform the ground control that the flypast rehearsal is likely to be cancelled due to our potential unserviceability. Transmit on the reserve frequency whilst I check the rest of the formation. Before you switch, can you confirm that you are fully serviceable?’
Blue replied almost immediately. And it wasn’t what Todd wanted to hear.
‘Negative Purple lead, we have also suffered a strike, but the aircraft is still flying – just about!’
Todd needed to think.
‘Standby, Blue.’
This was now looking bad. The formation could not now continue. The safety of the crews and aircraft were far more important that the bloody flypast. He needed to recover the aircraft to the home base as soon as possible and in one piece, and get them ready for tomorrow. However, before that he must check the serviceability of his team . It was more than likely that other aircraft had suffered a similar fate.
‘Purple, check serviceability, by formation and individually, direct to Purple lead, on this frequency’
The crews checked in.
‘Red Two – also suffered lightning strike – appear to be serviceable.’
‘Red Three – likewise.’
‘Red Four – roger, us too.’
And so it continued through the formation until Yellow Five gave the final call.
‘Yellow Five, lightning strike – two casualties up the back – two airmen not strapped in. One dead, one unconscious.’
Todd could hardly believe his ears. One dead…………….
‘Yellow Five, put the Air Marshal on.’
‘Roger, wilco,’ answered Yellow Five.
Fifteen seconds later Todd’s father came on the radio.
‘Purple lead, how do you read?’
‘Loud & clear, Yellow Five. Is it true? Is one of the airmen really dead?’
‘I’m afraid so, son. But don’t blame yourself – it was my responsibility and I’ll carry the can.’
Todd snapped back – he was seething:
‘That’s not the point, tell it to his family! A man is dead because of your bloody display – this conversation is now over, the Flypast is cancelled and we’re all going back to Marham.’
‘Roger, Purple lead – it's your decision now.’
Todd held his breath, counted to ten to calm himself, but couldn’t prevent his hand shaking as he hit the radio transmit button.
‘Marham, Purple lead.’
Nothing
‘Marham, Purple lead, do you read.’
Silence.
‘Blue One, this is Purple – how do you read?’
‘Loud and clear, Purple.’
Todd tried again.
‘Marham, Purple lead, do you READ?’
More silence.
Todd thought quickly and efficiently as he was trained to do.
‘Purple formation switch to three-one-two decimal nine, GO!’
Todd waited five seconds for the formation to switch to the back-up frequency for Marham radar control.
‘Purple Check?’
‘Red, Blue, Green, Yellow – all aboard’
‘Roger; Marham, Purple formation on 312.9, do you read?’
Still nothing.
Todd was now getting worried. Perhaps his radio was u/s. But no, he had just checked it. Everyone else in the formation could hear it. Right, then, he’d try something else.
‘Blue One – try Marham for me?’
‘Roger, Purple lead ………….Marham, Purple formation DO YOU READ?’
Yet more silence.
‘This is crazy,’ thought Todd, bewildered. 'What the hell were Marham playing at?’
Blue lead repeated his call but still nothing came back.
Time to try the next stage.
‘Stumpy, try your radio box.’
Which he did to no avail.
Todd was now extremely troubled. But he had to keep calm.
‘Purple from Purple lead, check and confirm that you are all serviceable and continue to hold at briefed heights and positions?’
Purple aircraft all replied in turn and in the affirmative.
At least the aircraft were safe. But he still had to contact Marham.
‘Let’s try something else. Green One, climb to fifteen thousand feet and try Marham from there. Give ‘Guard’ a go as well.’
‘Guard’ was the aviators term for 243.0 – the international UHF emergency frequency. It was like dialling ‘999’ or ‘911’ in the air.
‘Roger lead, wilco,’ replied Green One.
As the formation continued to circle, Todd did some mental arithmetic and found that they could stay up here for at least another seventy-five minutes. So there was no real problem with fuel – yet!’
The Reconnaissance Tornado levelled at fifteen thousand feet and made his call – but again there was no reply. He tried three more times on differing frequencies but each time – nothing. Purple formation heard all of the calls and waited.
‘Try VHF Gr
een One,’ Todd pleaded.
Green One tried but again with no luck.
Todd was now running out of ideas.
He called Yellow One.
‘Yellow lead, you’ve got the best radios – see if you can contact anyone? Any station – any frequency – anything, but just get someone.’
‘Roger, Purple.’
Todd was at a complete loss. Quite frankly he was starting to become panicky. How could none of the radios be working? Hang on though; they were working, because aircraft in the formation could speak to each other.
Why was no-one replying?
Where was everybody?
He spoke again with Green One, who was still circling at fifteen thousand feet.
‘Green One, Purple Lead, recover to Marham and let them know what’s going on and that we will probably need a no radio approach for fifteen aircraft at two minute intervals. Hopefully, Radar can cope with that? In addition Blue Four, climb to five thousand feet and give the formation some top cover.’
‘Roger Purple, Green Three recovering to base. Will keep you informed. As a matter of interest we’re not up here alone. We’ve seen the Battle of Britain Flight Spitfire practising aerobatics about twenty miles north-east of Scampton.’
Blue Four also acknowledged the instruction and started his climb.
‘Roger, Green Three & Blue Four, keep in touch.’
At this point Todd considered putting out a PAN call or even a MAYDAY. However, Green One would be at Marham in less than ten minutes. He wouldn’t panic yet. Although he was already bloody close to it!
Todd put out another call to the formation.
‘Purple formation, this is Purple lead. You have heard my brief to Green One. When we get the all clear, we will make individual recoveries to Marham in the following order. Red, Blue, Green, Yellow. Dump fuel as required. Do you all copy?’
Purple all acknowledged as did Green One, who was fast approaching Marham airfield. They let Todd know that no contact had been made but were continuing their approach for a run and break. This was a high speed approach over the runway, joining the ATC pattern at one thousand feet downwind for immediate landing.
The crew in Green One were pretty experienced, but this situation was starting to get scary. They were now ten miles from the field when the navigator, Anwar Salim, made an observation to the pilot, Squadron Leader Al MacDonald.
‘I thought that there was a new estate out here. The wife and I went to see it last month. We were thinking of buying a house there. But I can’t see it now. Strange.’
‘Don’t worry about that now Anwar, just point me at the runway.’
‘OK, sir, there it is seven miles on the nose, can you see the hangars yet?
‘No. Anwar, are you sure you’ve got the correct co-ordinates in the kit? I can’t see a bloody thing. We’re not lost are we?’
‘Ok, I’ll recheck. The Inertial Nav is a bit knackered after the strike but I fixed our position as we coasted in. Marham should now be on the nose at five miles.’
Al Macdonald was getting grumpy.
‘Anwar, I’m telling you that the bloody airfield is not there and this area is not famili…………….’
Al Macdonald broke off suddenly.’
‘Jesus Christ – what the hell is happening?’
At that, Al Macdonald dipped the right wing so that Anwar could see the ground directly beneath the Tornado.
He could barely believe his eyes.
14
Norfolk
Monday 1 July 1940
Lady Rose Andrews went upstairs to take a glass of milk and some chocolate biscuits to her daughter, Constance. Her husband had been given the biscuits by a grateful American contact at the ministry. It was a rare treat in these difficult times. Her daughter loved the chocolate, so Lady Rose saved them all for the little girl. Constance was playing in her bedroom, so Lady Rose tiptoed quietly up to the door and pushed it ajar so that she could watch the child of nine playing, unobserved.
However, Constance wasn’t playing at all. She was fast asleep on her bed. Fully clothed with her shoes still on. Lady Rose entered the room and placed the milk and biscuits on the bedside table. Constance looked so serene just lying there and it would have been cruel to awaken her. So Lady Rose removed Constance’s shoes, covered her with a spare blanket from the cupboard, kissed her gently on the cheek and left the room. It wouldn’t hurt to let her sleep a while longer.
Later that day, when Lady Rose returned from supervising her gardener, she climbed the stairs to Constance’s room to see if she had enjoyed the chocolate biscuits. To her surprise, Constance was still asleep and the snack had not been touched. Strange, thought Lady Rose. So she approached Constance’s bed and gently tried to shake her awake whilst calling her name. However, Constance was in a very deep sleep and despite some more vigorous shaking and repeated calls, she remained in what resembled a coma.
Lady Rose was now extremely alarmed. She turned on her heels and rushed out into the hall.
‘Doris, DORIS!’ - she called the housekeeper-come-nanny.
‘Yes, ma’am,’ came the reply from the nursery downstairs.
‘Doris, has Constance been asleep all this time?’
Startled, Doris gave her reply,
‘I’m not sure what you mean, your ladyship. I’ve been down here since late morning, rearranging the nursery as you requested. Why, what’s the problem?’
‘Doris, Constance won’t wake up. She’s breathing OK but she won’t wake up!’
Doris dropped the duster she was carrying and scampered up the stairs to join Lady Rose. They both stepped back into the bedroom and tried again to awaken the little girl. However, Constance was deeply asleep and would not respond. Lady Rose was now particularly agitated.
‘Doris, find George and tell him to run and fetch the doctor.’
***
The doctor arrived some two hours later and took a good look at Constance. He immediately tried smelling salts but to no avail. She was alive but would not respond. After thirty minutes of exhaustive efforts to rouse Constance, he turned to Lady Rose and gave his verdict.
‘I’m afraid to say, your Ladyship, that although your daughter seems to be in the best of health, she appears to have slipped into a coma - and I am unable to determine a cause or say whether or when she may recover.’
15
Norfolk
Monday 1 July 1940
The Reconnaissance Tornado, Green Three, turned left and climbed to one thousand feet and reduced speed to three hundred knots. The astounded crew wanted a better and slower look at Marham airfield. They wanted to be sure that this was indeed Marham and if confirmed – they needed to give Purple Lead a concise report. What they had witnessed – indeed were witnessing still – was unbelievable and baffling.
‘Anwar, are you absolutely stone-bonking sure that this is definitely Marham. Because if it is we’re in the shit up to our eyeballs?’
The navigator, somewhat irritated by now, confirmed his professional opinion to the pilot of their Tornado.
‘Sir, please have some faith; I positively checked our position as we coasted in; I updated the Inertial Nav and can point out three indisputable landmarks. There in your four o’clock position is Marham village. You can clearly see the Manners Arms – although I didn’t realise that it had a thatched roof. Secondly, Hutch Farm is there in your one o’clock – on its own – nothing within ten miles and finally, the River Ouse is there in our twelve o’clock crossing at right angles. Yes, sir this is definitely Marham – which means we are definitely in the shit up to our eyeballs.’
The pilot had been fairly sure before the diatribe from the back seat, but everyone makes mistakes, so he had to double-check.
‘OK, Anwar, you don’t need to apply to the navigators union for back-up. I believe you. I spotted a board with the letters ‘M-A-R’ on the ground outside that ramshackle Air Traffic tower. However, the more immediate problem is how to report this to Todd Mor
rissey? He will just not believe it.’
‘We can but try,’ answered the navigator laconically.
JET LAG! Page 8
