Upon my return to the fold I continued to do readiness at Swanton but there was precious little doing. Plt Off Gallagher got a scramble one night and chased an unidentified target until it was discovered to be a friendly aircraft. That was the only chase during the month but it did at least relieve the monotony of the continual waiting.
Late in the month my pride and joy, Boston Z2184, went u/s with a radio fault. It had only flown once with the flight and was practically brand new. It was, however, repaired by the 30th, just in time to take Sgt Dave Glen to RAF Church Fenton to start his leave. I found that the station had changed considerably since my time there. The OTU had disappeared and night fighter operations had taken its place with the return of 25 Squadron from RAF Ballyhalbert in Northern Ireland.
Detached aircrews continued to go regularly to Swanton Morley well into June but there were no more scrambles. There was plenty of activity, though, on the night of the thousand bomber raid on Germany at the end of May. Both Swanton and Wittering were littered with bombers coming back in one piece or in several pieces.
On the subject of pieces, our illustrious CO came a real cropper on June 3 when he was taking off at dusk to cooperate with me. He had borrowed a 616 Squadron Spitfire Vb, AE246, and the starboard tyre burst during the take-off run. With 100mph on the clock he just managed to get airborne as he touched the perimeter of the main runway. He decided to hold the machine down on the other part of Wittering’s two-mile strip so he cut the throttle and prayed. First the starboard leg was torn off, followed in turn by the port leg, the starboard wing, then the port wing. The propeller and half the engine was next to part company and the whole of the tail structure broke away completely. What remained of the fuselage, including the cockpit, finally came to rest intact on its side.
The wonder of it was that Sqn Ldr Blair was able to step out and walk away from the wreckage practically unscathed. He was conveyed to the sick bay by no less a person than Group Captain Basil Embry [the station commander] and after recovering he was despatched for a week’s sick leave.
I had an opportunity to revisit another old haunt when I was detailed to fly over to Kidlington to put the Boston through its paces for the residents. The old FTS had gone, its place taken by some glider schools. I was the envy of those glider tug pilots in my nippy Boston.
At the end of the month our flying from Swanton Morley was washed out. July got off to a good start, though, as the flight was one year old and it was decided to have a party to celebrate. All the aircrews and many of the technical NCOs were invited to Pilsgate, the CO’s house near Stamford, where copious quantities of strawberries and cream were consumed and the beer flowed freely. When the CO persuaded us to leave, the party departed in two cars (eighteen in the Humber!) to continue the merry-making at the White Hart in nearby Ufford, before finally retiring somewhat worse for wear for a nightcap in the mess.
Standing patrols began at Wittering during this month but although these were flown regularly, no trade came our way. 486 Squadron converted to Typhoons but still kept a few Hurricanes to cooperate with us.
On July 26 1942 the flight upped sticks to go on detachment to RAF Hibaldstow, eight miles south of Scunthorpe, to reinforce 1459 Flight and maintain standing patrols cooperating with the Hurricanes of 253 (Hyderabad) Squadron. This was all very well but still no trade came our way.
Aircrew were billeted at RAF Kirton in Lindsey and we had the bind of travelling daily to and from Hibaldstow to do our flying. The dispersal at Hibaldstow was definitely ropey compared to the comfort of Wittering and the food was lousy, too. But, you can get used to anything eventually and after a few days this was no exception.
Kirton in Lindsey mess was full of Polish Spitfire pilots from 303 Squadron led by Sqn Ldr Jan Zumbach. They were a grand bunch of chaps, full of beans and they would listen to our woeful tales of fruitless chases then shoot us a line about their recent slice of real action near the airfield and we’d all have a good laugh. I was very envious of their cannon-armed Spits, though.
The incident to which Jack refers concerns the shooting down of two Junkers Ju88s by the Poles between Horncastle and Spilsby at 20.30 hours on July 2 – an incident that is believed to have contributed to 1453 Flight’s rapid detachment to Hibaldstow. Research in the National Archives turned up what is undoubtedly a gripping story about this particular incident but all the signs are that it was more of a one-off, ‘gung-ho’ enterprise than a portent of renewed bomber activity in the sector. The following edited account of the raid is based on a contemporary RAF AI 1(k) report containing information distilled from interviews of Luftwaffe prisoners of war. The report, like others of its ilk, contains a proviso that: “the statements have not as yet been verified”, but its version of this raid and its outcome nevertheless makes fascinating reading.
The two Ju88s shot down in Lincolnshire were bombers from the 2nd Staffel of Kustenfliegergruppe 106 (2/106) based at Dinard/Pleurtuit airfield in Brittany, France and they were the only aircraft involved in a daring low-level raid aimed at the de Havilland aircraft factory near Horwich in Lancashire. The operation itself was alleged to have been the outcome of conversations in the Luftwaffe officers’ mess during the previous week, about the feasibility of bombing targets in England, at low level, by day – and getting away with it. Hans Bergemann, the staffelkapitän of 2/106 was adamant that such attacks were possible. New Luftwaffe intelligence information just in, detailing the importance of the Horwich factory, provided an ideal opportunity to put his theory to the test and he managed to convince his gruppenkommandeur that his bold plan for an attack on the de Havilland factory should go ahead. The staffel’s two most experienced crews were selected for the operation – naturally Bergemann’s was one – and the whole of the next week was spent practicing low-level attacks. Bombing height would be sixty feet and the flight was to be executed at wave- and tree-top height all the way in and out. An essential part of Bergemann’s plan required the nature of the operation to be kept absolutely secret, so it was not until the morning of the actual raid that the target was disclosed to the crews. Both aircraft were to carry four 250kg HE bombs, with eight-second delay fuses, on the wing racks, with a mixed load of 50kg HE and 1kg incendiaries in the fuselage bomb bay. This heavy weight meant both aircraft would first fly unloaded to an airfield at Lanveoc-Poulmic, near Brest, where they would be fuelled and bombed up, after which each Ju88 would get airborne for the sortie using rocket-assisted take-off.
Weather on the day was predicted as low cloud cover all the way to the target and the gruppenkommandeur watched as the two bombers left Dinard at 13.30. Any misgivings he might have harboured about the wisdom of the whole operation must have got the better of him though because soon after the aircraft had landed at Lanveoc, he telephoned Bergemann and expressly ordered him to abort the flight. The staffelkapitän, however, was raring to go – it was even alleged that he savoured the prospect of the medal that would be certain to come his way if the raid was a success. So, at 16.00 hours the two Ju88s took off on the mission.
Their route to the target was in four legs: Lanveoc to Land’s End then to St David’s Head (Wales), on to a point south of the Isle of Man and finally the run in to Horwich, but it is the exit phase that seems the hairiest part of the plan. Carrying the large weight of bombs loaded – vital to make such an attack worthwhile – even with full tanks, the Ju88’s fuel would not allow the aircraft to return to Brittany via the Irish Sea route. The exit route chosen from Horwich therefore was to fly straight to The Wash then out over the North Sea to land at Amsterdam/Schipol in Holland and this was the very reason they came to be flying over Lincolnshire. Further doubts existed about the fuel lasting all the way to Holland so the contingency plan was, if necessary, to conserve fuel by flying the exit leg on one engine.
Maintaining radio silence and skimming the wave tops to avoid radar, the flight up the Irish Sea went according to plan. The dot-zone of a radial beam from the German navigational radio beacon called �
�Elektra 2’ was intercepted just south of the Isle of Man. First the dots and then the continuous-tone zone was crossed, with the pilots making a right turn onto the final leg as soon as they heard the dash-zone signals. Landfall should have been the Ribble estuary. Six minutes at zero feet to Rivington reservoir then turn south along the reservoir to the factory. But this is where things started to go wrong.
Cloud cover was even lower than expected and the bombers’ landfall was too far south of their intended track. In the lead aircraft, unable to spot the reservoir and with only a few minutes fuel reserve for a search, an argument seems to have taken place that only added to the confusion. Bombs were eventually released from both aircraft over what was thought to be a railway station and a gas works and a train was strafed, but British sources claimed the bombs caused little damage.
Both bombers managed to stay in close formation and – so far – no opposition had been encountered but now, identified as raid 301, the Royal Observer Corps monitored the Junkers’ progress over land and passed a series of accurate plots to 12 Group. Sector control was advised that two Ju88s were flying at zero feet, forty miles west of Lincoln heading in an easterly direction. Sector controller, Sqn Ldr Mawdesley, immediately scrambled 303 Squadron (Spitfire Vb) from Kirton in Lindsey and handed over control of the Polish fighters to Flt Lt Ostaszewski. No misunderstandings were going to mar this interception!
Yellow section (Flt Sgt Wunsche, Yellow 1 and Flt Sgt Popek, Yellow 2) was airborne at 20.05, orbiting base until joined by White section (Plt Off Kolecki, White 1 and Sgt Rokitnicki, White 2) a few minutes later. The four pilots were instructed to maintain just sufficient height to keep in R/T contact and fly a course of 190º. The Spitfires were down at 500 feet when Flt Sgt Wunsche spotted the two bandits half a mile away, two miles east of Lincoln, flying close, fast and low. Calling out the contact he identified them as Ju88s and dived into the attack, opening fire with his two cannon and four machine guns from astern at 250 yards range, first at the leader, then the other aircraft. When he broke away, Flt Sgt Popek, ignoring return fire from the top gun position, closed to fifty yards range and fired at the second Ju88 – this was M2+BK, Fw Majer’s aircraft, until with both engines on fire it hit a tree and crashed into some farm buildings. Wunsche and Popek now turned their attention to the leading bomber and fired their remaining ammunition at it. As they broke away, White section continued the attack with both pilots making firing passes from 300 yards down to fifty yards either side of astern until flames poured from the starboard engine. Desperately, Hptmn Bergemann tried to keep the bomber airborne on one engine but it was so low and so damaged that evasive action was impossible. When White section attacked again the fuselage was riddled, the electrical system shot to pieces and the other engine hit. There was no escape for M2+KK but Hptmn Bergemann managed to crash-land the badly damaged bomber in a field. Circling the crash, the Poles watched as four airmen clambered out of the aircraft and ran off just as a brilliant flash lit the sky and the bomber turned into a blazing wreck.
Cheney takes up the story again:
Turbinlite standing patrols from Hibaldstow continued into August and things began to hot up a bit as most crews began to get their share of scrambles. Nobby Clarke got two head-on interceptions one night over Hull but was unable to turn quickly enough to follow them up. Jerry Clymer had the most atrocious bad luck. Almost invariably, when he got the order to scramble his engines would refuse to start, or he would be recalled before he could get off the deck. Mike and I chased an unidentified aircraft and almost came within range, only to be told it was a friendly.
On August 24 Mike and I were sent off on yet another detachment, this time to RAF Coltishall with Havoc BJ467 and a ground crew of six. We stayed three days doing some ground control exercises for Fighter Command under the watchful eye of Flt Lt Derek Jackson, a university don and electronics boffin. There were endless snags between Coltishall and Wittering control and I was heartily fed up with the job by the time we left for home. No sooner had we arrived back at Kirton in Lindsey than I was told to report back to Coltishall on the 31st. Another binding few days!
The pace of life took another upward turn on September 3 1942, when 1453 Flight was re-formed as 532 Squadron. A number of Hurricanes were sent to us and pilots for them were drawn from 486 Squadron and from various OTUs. The idea now was for the squadron to become self-contained, in that it comprised A Flight with Havocs (Boston III) and B Flight with the Hurricanes. The other good news was that we were to return to Wittering on the 6th.
Back at Wittering, the first two days were spent rearranging and clearing up our old Whitewater dispersal. Training under the new structure started immediately but after only two days, would you believe it, it was all change again and off we went back to Hibaldstow. In order to become operational there, it was necessary to borrow three Hurricane pilots from 486 Squadron at Wittering, which was now fully fledged on Typhoons. Does anyone really know what they are doing in this war?
Once the move to Hibaldstow was complete we settled down to get the new Hurricane pilots operational, so that the 486 chaps could return to their squadron. Just before they left we had the only scramble of the month. At 21.30 on the 19th, Sgt Preston, one of the 486 boys and I took off to intercept a bogey. We were airborne for only forty minutes though before the hated recall came through. The Hun had gone further north and some of the squadrons in that direction took over the hunt. That was the nearest any of us got to the Hun in September. For the rest of the month we got stuck into our training programme in order to become fully operational, spending much of the time on instrument tests, since the artificial horizons in the Havocs were playing up at this time.
A change of command brought the month to a close. We bid a boozy farewell to John Willie Blair, posted out to 51 OTU Cranfield and an equally rousing celebration was held for his deputy Flt Lt C L W Stewart on his appointment as the new CO. Henceforth ‘Stew’ must be known as Squadron Leader Stewart or even Sir, which took a bit of getting used to. Needless to say this historic occasion was dealt with in style and lunch that day finished at 16.00 hours. At 17.00 that same afternoon I flew Sgt Joe Gunnill down to Wittering to attend the Beam Approach training school and I don’t think I have flown a steadier course in my life!
With the coming of the moon period in mid October the weather turned duff and night flying was reduced to practically zero and it was not until the 24th that the weather decided to clear. Although the squadron was on readiness and could only put up one Boston at a time, Mike and I managed to jam in six and a half hours of night flying, the first for a fortnight. I crawled into bed at 08.00 next morning well satisfied after such a splendid session.
The weather clamped down yet again so odd jobs were the order of the day. The latest wheeze is for us to scrape off the matt black dope from the Havocs in order to get the new grey and green camouflage on in the specified time. Well, at least it’s warm and useful work, though some of the aircraft began to resemble patchwork quilts.
In general terms, up to November 1940 aeroplanes used for night operations were usually painted in the standard RAF day paint scheme. When night fighter operations became common it was felt that black or a similar dark colour might be the most suitable for camouflage at night. As a result a black paint with an almost ‘fuzzy’ finish to it called ‘Special Night’ or ‘RDM2’ was applied first to under surfaces from September 1940 then overall by about mid November 1940. However, by the time the Blitz ended, Special Night was considered not to be the best colour for night fighters. This conclusion had already been reached in WW1! Flying experiments discovered it tended to turn a fighter into a dark silhouette and rather than it merging with the darkness it could, under certain conditions and at reducing ranges, actually make it more visible. Unfortunately no one seemed to have an alternative and it took many more experiments and almost another eighteen months before a replacement colour scheme was settled upon. It seemed that, contrary to expectations, disruptive patterns
of grey seemed to render aeroplanes less visible under most conditions including the night sky. Thus in October 1942 it was promulgated that night fighters would be painted medium sea grey overall with a disruptive pattern of dark green on upper surfaces, hence the hard work referred to by Jack Cheney.
On my day off Joe Gunnill flew my beloved Z2184 on an NFT and over Goole the port fuel pump packed-up. By a clever bit of juggling with the interfeeds he managed to keep the port engine running and brought it back all in one piece.
Wonder of wonders, on October 31 the weather cleared up and patrols were on again. Three of the others were detailed for these while I was briefed to carry out a bomber affiliation sortie with a Lancaster from 44 Squadron at Waddington. Everything had been previously arranged with the Lancaster crew who were word perfect, so I cracked-off at 19.05 to rendezvous with them. By that time there was quite a haze over the aerodrome and the lights were very dim, even in the circuit.
To start with, the Lanc took off before it should have done but luckily I caught a glimpse of its lights as it left the ground. There then followed the most gruelling time I have had for many a long time as far as night flying goes. The Lanc proceeded to do turns, with about 40° of bank on, around the aerodrome at low speed. I must say the Boston stood up to it very well even though I must have been very close to stalling many times. Unfortunately I was unable to get to the exact range to carry out my orders and after an hour of trying I gave up in disgust and went home. I found out later that, although I was burning all my lights, not one of the bomber crew ever saw me even though I was in visual range all the time. That seems to auger well for our night fighters – but not so good for the bomber boys!
Fighter Command declared all our aircraft unserviceable at the beginning of November, pending a new modification – whatever that means. What with the weather being u/s as well as the aircraft we are doing an awful lot of Link trainer time these days. On the 4th visibility rose to all of two yards so how appropriate it was that we were assembled for a lecture on new blind flying techniques. By midday visibility had risen to about ten yards but it is so cold here now that Jimmy Green had to put his feet into my hot bath to get them warm!
No Place for Chivalry Page 14
