As the Battle of Britain reached its climax, the battered and bruised unit was pulled from the front line. During the battle, 111 claimed forty-seven enemy aircraft destroyed, but it was the loss of eighteen Hurricanes in a matter of weeks that was crucial in the decision to rest the squadron by transferring it to Scotland.
Gordon Edwards had joined the squadron shortly after the move north and he must have been in awe of some of the pilots he would have met. These were battle-hardened veterans, men he had read about in the newspapers. The same went for the ground crews that he worked with. They were experienced and knew what it was to work under fire and to lose pilots and aircraft that it was their job to look after. In short, this was an ideal posting for a newly trained recruit with a lot still to learn.
Life at Dyce was quiet, giving plenty of time for Gordon to settle into squadron life. The same went for the large number of replacement pilots. Regular patrols were flown, but action was rarely seen. During the Battle of Britain the station had been raided by German bombers based in Norway with little effect and the Nazis seemed little inclined to repeat the process. Despite the lack of threat, a decoy airfield was maintained at nearby Harestone Moss. This consisted of a generator-powered flare path and moving lights, to give the impression of a ‘live’ base at night.
Aberdeen, Scotland’s third largest city, was nearby with its impressive nineteenth-century infrastructure. With its shipbuilding and fishing industries, it offered the entertainments to be found in any port city. Aberdeen also has some stunning beaches, although how much time Gordon spent walking along them during a Scottish winter is not known.
His time in Scotland would have been both pleasant and useful. The lack of serious enemy action gave Gordon time to learn the workings of a modern fighter aircraft inside out. The replacement of the slightly dated Hurricane, with its thick wings and fabric-covered fuselage, by the state-of-the-art Spitfire would have provided a new challenge at an ideal time in his career. Although a long way from the south Wales valleys, communication with home by letter was a regular occurrence. Gordon not only wrote to his mother and sister, but also to his sister’s parents-in-law. During extended periods of leave it was possible to visit his family, although the journey across the country in packed, blacked-out and often disrupted trains must have been a tortuous one. However difficult these trips must have been, they were also fruitful ones as around this time Gordon seems to have developed a special friendship with a young lady back home.
After six months with a crack fighter squadron, Gordon must have worn his uniform with pride, feeling himself to be something of a well-trained veteran.
BECHUANALAND, 1941
In villages all over Bechuanaland, selected young men underwent drill instruction, often within view of the ‘war fields’ that had sprung up around the country. The sun beat down on sweaty bodies marching up and down, round and round, presenting arms and standing to attention, all under the watchful eye of the uniformed native instructor. Soon there would be 10,000 Batswana under arms.
The response to this conflict was in contrast to the First World War. Bechuanaland had been largely untouched by the devastation of the ‘War to end all Wars’. The chiefs had supported the British, perhaps hoping that in return they would get some protection from white settlers and remain outside of the Union of South Africa. Some, such as Linchwe I, Seepapitso and Sechele II, wanted to show their loyalty to Britain by providing troops. Khama III was one of the few who were not keen on sending men to fight, fearing his men would only be given menial tasks. Despite this, he did send money to aid the cause. Only around 500 men joined the army as they were generally required to serve in the Native Labour Contingent of the disliked South African Army, where they suffered racial discrimination. In France, some Batswana were confined to compounds intended for prisoners of war when not on duty. Despite receiving thanks from King George V upon his visit to Abbeville in 1917, during which he called them ‘part of my great Armies which are fighting for the liberty and freedom of my subjects of all races and creed throughout the Empire’, after the war many Batswana refused to accept their medals.
The war memorial in modern-day Gaborone lists only one casualty from this conflict, a police messenger known by the single name of Jonas. The only Bechuanaland war grave is in the Milton Cemetery in Portsmouth, where a headstone marks the sacrifice of Private Willie Pampiri Tlhomelang who drowned when his troopship, the SS Mendi, sank after a collision in the English Channel. Tlhomelang was one of more than 600 black troops killed in this tragic accident. The Mendi was bisected by the empty cargo ship SS Darro, which was on her way to Argentina to collect a consignment of meat. The conduct of Darro’s captain, Henry Stump, in not stopping to help the survivors, led to accusations of racism and the suspension of his captain’s licence, after an investigation into the incident laid the blame squarely upon his shoulders. Batswana men had also accompanied Rhodesian troops that had been moved across the protectorate before making a famous march through the Namib Desert to remove the German presence from what is now Namibia. But for most, Batswana life went on much as before.
Perhaps the biggest impact of the Rhodesian march was that one of their number decided that he had had enough of trekking endless miles carrying a full pack, and that if he was to continue fighting he wished to do so sitting down. Arthur Harris joined the Royal Flying Corp upon his arrival in the UK and shot down five enemy aircraft, being awarded the Air Force Cross in the process. Having joined the Rhodesian Army as a bugler, he finished the war as a Major in the RAF. Although tempted to return to Africa after the armistice, he stayed with what had become the Royal Air Force, and by 1941 he was Deputy Chief of the Air Staff. The following year he would become head of Bomber Command and it was he that would mastermind the constant attack on the Third Reich from the air.
It is difficult to say why Hitler provoked a larger reaction from the Batswana chiefs than the Kaiser had. The main reasons for the response remained a loyalty to Britain and a hope that Bechuanaland would be recognised as an independent country and would not be incorporated into South Africa. These arguments had not changed since 1914. However, this time all of the chiefs, with Tshekedi Khama at their head, insisted that the Batswana would supply soldiers, but as a Bechuanaland unit and not as part of the racially divided South African military.
At first the Resident Commissioner of Bechuanaland, Charles Arden-Clarke, was more interested in forming a Home Guard to protect vital points from sabotage, especially the Bulawayo railway line and telephone wires. He also realised that Britain would no longer be in a position to subsidise the territory and that the Batswana tribes would have to pay their own way for the forthcoming years and become self-sufficient. The first practical step Arden-Clarke took was a 1940 tour of the country, explaining to the various chiefs what the situation was and asking in return for a handful of men for the Home Guard, that ‘War Fields’ would be grown, and that a register of men between the ages of 20 and 40 be drawn up.
By November 1940, the first thirty-five volunteers had arrived in Gaberones Village (now the capital, Gaborone), where they were issued with a uniform consisting of two bush shirts, two pairs of khaki slacks, one Askari cap and a pair of boots. Initially, the course was planned to be six weeks, but it was extended beforehand to eight in case any extra instruction was needed for ‘backward pupils’. The cost of training each man to the Bechuanaland treasury was quoted as £3 for the uniform, £2 16s for rations, and £2 pocket money. These first recruits were then sent back to their villages. On their return home they were expected to start instructing their fellow villagers in basic drill and were paid a shilling a day to do so. Although the majority of these first volunteers were from the south-east of the country, there were also ten from Serowe and five from Maun in the far north-west.
The War Fields policy was intended to increase food production, but it was not a total success. Initially it was intended that the food would help feed the 4,000 members of the native forces that S
outh Africa had raised. These Union troops were also initially used as Home Guards and were only later sent to the Middle East. At least one large field in each district would be put aside to grow crops. It was also hoped that the extra food would help raise money for the Treasury, making up for some of the lost British income. However, as the labour force dwindled when men were sent overseas, it became more difficult to tend all the fields. In addition, not all the fields were well looked after. Instead of providing the expected extra food, grain had to be imported into the country from South Africa in the period 1942 to 1947. However, many districts did provide grain from their own fields and from 1941 a war levy was introduced. Many poor Batswana were forced to sell their cattle to pay this. At the same time, extra funds were raised through gifts and donations. These totalled £13,000. The majority of this money went towards buying two Spitfires for the Royal Air Force. These Mark V machines were named Kalahari and Bechuana. The latter went into service with 317 Squadron, one of several Polish units, and it was usually flown by Zygmunt Słomski. In this aeroplane he was credited with half a Focke Wulf 190 kill and another half as a probable. Returning from a fighter sweep over France, he was hit by flak and crashed into the English Channel at the end of July 1942. Kalahari survived a lot longer, initially being issued to the Royal Canadian Air Force. It too participated in cross-Channel fighter sweeps aimed at keeping the Luftwaffe on its toes. Later it found its way into a Polish squadron and was being used to spot for artillery in late 1944 when it was also shot down into the Channel.
The first Spitfire donated from Bechuanaland was issued to 317 Squadron, a Polish unit serving with the RAF. (Stanislaw Bochniak archive)
In December 1940, the chiefs had approached Arden-Clarke with a proposal to form a Bechuanaland unit for overseas service. They were particularly keen to emphasise that they wanted to fight as Batswana and not as South Africans. The British had considered plans for a joint force from the three High Commission Territories, but each time the idea had been discarded. With the loss of Crete and Greece, along with the Palestinian Pioneers, the desert war in the Middle East became crucial. This put the African Auxiliary Pioneer Corps plan back on the table. In June 1941 the derelict cold storage facility in Lobatsi, along with the land around it, was converted into a training camp. Calls went out from the chiefs for volunteers, not always a call that could be ignored. Many of the first Home Guard recruits volunteered quickly. Tshekedi Khama and his Bangwato announced the ‘letsholo’, a formal call to arms for his young men and a declaration of war. All over the protectorate, using donkeys, lorries, ox-carts or just feet, men congregated in their tribal capitals. Here they were sworn in and signed up, often with a thumbprint and cross, before being forwarded to Lobatsi. At the training camp they were kitted out. The light, but rugged, South African Army boots were the highlight of the new wardrobe. Here they were taught the basic drill. Many did not speak English and this was also addressed. One of the oddest problems, as recalled in Alan Bent’s Ten Thousand Men of Africa, was the issue of what a ‘right turn’ meant. To Europeans that had grown up in geometrical towns and cities, 90 degrees was an obvious answer. For those who had grown up surrounded by round huts and featureless bush it just meant turning to the right, however far the recruit wished. For many other recruits this was not a problem, as they had worked in the South African mines. These ex-miners had good language skills and brought with them discipline and a knowledge of technology and machinery. They claimed that the discipline of British Army life was nothing compared with that which they had experienced in the mines.
By the end of 1941 the first seven companies had departed for Durban. Even for the miners this was a new experience, seeing the Drakensburg Mountains and, eventually, the sea for the first time. Not a single man of the first batch had ever seen a ship before and it can only be imagined what it must have been like boarding the boat for Egypt. As they left the crowded South African harbour they were serenaded by Perla Gibson, better known as the ‘Lady in White’. Gibson had taken it upon herself to sing to all the warships that entered and left Durban, and by the end of the war she had completed more than 5,000 performances.
Once in Egypt they joined the British 8th Army, the most ethnically diverse fighting force the world has ever seen. Troops from every part of the Commonwealth blended together with Poles, Free French and Greeks. Soldiers from more than thirty countries swelled its ranks. Here the Batswana finished their training and each man was issued with a rifle, something unusual for African Pioneers, a tin hat, and, best of all, a greatcoat. At their training camp at Qasassin, they also experienced cinema and running hot showers for the first time. Although the British Army was de-segregated, the number of South African units serving in the Middle East meant that, even this far from home, racial politics still intruded into life for some. Several veterans never forgot the incident where black members of the South African Native Military Corps were disinterred in order that they would be buried away from their fallen white colleagues.
From Qasassin the companies were posted to where they were needed and the twenty-four units were put to a range of uses. Many found themselves in Syria, where they saw snow for the first time. Some found themselves staying in Egypt, while others were sent to Palestine. One group of Batswana had a lucky escape when they watched in horror from their transports as the Erinpura was torpedoed. More than 600 troops from Lesotho drowned. As the war progressed several companies ended up in Italy, some via Malta. They served as heavy artillery gunners, bridge-builders, camouflage smoke-makers, drivers and mechanics, and front-line supply store shifters. The units in Italy endured the most combat as they supported the landings in Sicily and also at Reggio and Salerno. One company of smoke-makers found itself at the Battle of Monte Casino, which gained the Setswana name Marumong, or the place of bullets.
Zygmunt Słomski who lost his life piloting Spitfire V Bechuanaland over the English Channel in 1942. (Stanislaw Bochniak archive)
One of the original ‘Bechuanaland knitters’ at a remembrance lunch in 2013. (Botswana Aviation Art)
In all, Bechuanaland supplied twenty-four companies of men from a population of well under 500,000. This was the biggest contribution per capita of any African country and, in terms of men supplied, Bechuanaland nearly matched Uganda and Kenya, despite their joint population being more than thirty times as large. They developed a reputation for ability, courage and loyalty. In return they learned new skills and saw many new sights. Importantly, they were usually treated as equals and even mixed with white women, something unthinkable in southern Africa.
Meanwhile, back in Bechuanaland, hundreds of women were taught to knit in order to produce warm clothes, particularly hats, scarves and gloves, for those serving in colder climes thousands of miles away. The Imperial War Museum has some great pictures of this touching war effort.
RUSSIA, 1941
Even being near the coast, and the Gulf Stream that kept the waters of Murmansk largely ice free, the cold was unbearable. Servicing aeroplanes was a trial of endurance, and eventually the ground crews gave up and conceded defeat to the Arctic winter. This would be a job the Russians would pick up once the spring thaw came, and by this time Gordon Edwards would be back in the UK with a sense of a job well done.
Only two RAF squadrons were based in Russia during the Second World War, although several others would make fleeting visits. Numbers 81 and 134 Squadrons were both reformed at Leconfield in July 1941 as part of the newly created 151 Wing, created with the express purpose of helping the Russians in the fight against Operation Barbarossa, the German invasion of the Motherland.
The decision to form this Wing was essentially a political one, with the driving force coming from the very top in the form of Winston Churchill himself. Although it was difficult to see what two fighter squadrons could do against the might of the Luftwaffe, it was considered vital to show Britain’s new ally that it was capable of supplying more than just kind words. The German invasion of Russia on 22 June 1
941 had thrown previous alliances into chaos, with Stalin asking for immediate help from the ‘capitalist imperialists’ and the virulently anti-communist Churchill making a dramatic speech on the evening following the strike where he described the ‘Russian soldiers standing on threshold of their native land, guarding the fields which their fathers have tilled from time immemorial’. For Stalin this was simply the calculus of survival, but it left Churchill with difficult choices to make. While the trade union movement ensured that factory workers were fully aware of the dire straits their new comrades were in, there were plenty of people who questioned the wisdom of sending material help to a country of dubious morals, especially given the still desperate situation in Britain. While conveys of supplies would take time to plan, organise and actually set sail, a couple of fighter squadrons could be mobilised quickly, couldn’t they?
Just over a month after the Germans had smashed through the Russian border defences, Gordon Edwards received his new posting. Although sad to leave a battle-hardened and well recognised fighter unit in 111, there were already rumours of there being something special about 134 Squadron. For a start it was a completely new outfit, having last been disbanded before the end of the First World War. This meant that the whole squadron structure needed to be built up, almost from scratch. Gordon’s proficiency rating was ‘superior’, and this, along with his ‘very good’ character, was no doubt one of the reasons for his selection. The nucleus of the new unit was formed from ‘A’ Flight of 17 Squadron which, ironically for Gordon, had just been sent to Scotland for a rest, having been one of the squadrons that had flown from Tangmere during the Battle of Britain. To add to the intrigue of the new arrivals, a second squadron, number 81, was also being formed at the same time, this time from ‘A’ Flight of 504 Squadron.
The Kalahari Killings Page 3
