by Colin Downes
Often approaching the Norwegian coast there was overcast, and, if the overcast lifted the mountains of Norway became visible, and under any other circumstances were beautiful to behold. The strike aircraft pulled up to around 2,000 – 3,000 feet for their rocket attacks on the shipping ahead and the Mustangs moved up to combat power as they released the drop tanks and climbed to below the main cloud base or 5,000 feet. Any interception by the Luftwaffe usually resulted in a confused mêlée with the radio jammed with calls and instructions. It was the wingmen’s job to protect their section leader’s tail and sometimes they could be faced with the decision to do so or break away to attack another aircraft. If successful they could by this means leave the ranks of permanent wingmen. Rank, seniority and combat experience dictated the selection of the flight and section leaders in the squadron, and those other than flight or section leaders had few opportunities to fire their guns and prove themselves unless separated during a dogfight. Some followed a ‘Lone Wolf’ philosophy to acquire ‘ace’ status, but most recognised the need for flight discipline in being a team player. With a long return to the safety of base it was necessary to be watchful of the Mustang’s fuel state and the ‘bingo’ call indicated only sufficient fuel for a safe return to Peterhead. Often due to low cloud and poor visibility there were no interceptions by the Luftwaffe. The return to base was made in loose formation at medium altitude if visual flying permitted, otherwise it was a single or formation return on instruments, arriving back at Peterhead low on fuel. The effect of the mission after four or more hours of concentrated attention and effort left most pilots feeling weary almost to the point of exhaustion. The high concentration required flying formation at low level in borderline weather conditions for several hundred miles across an inhospitable sea; the steady flow of adrenaline in some active combat against an opponent with the odds weighed heavily in his favour, followed by the long return to base in bad weather while low on fuel left most pilots physically and mentally drained. This condition would be remedied in the bar and followed by a deep and forgetful sleep afterwards.
The Mosquito strike wing at Banff and the Beaufighter strike wing at Dallachy kept the two Mustang squadrons at Peterhead active. The Mustang pilots had the compensation that the strike pilots had by far the tougher assignment in attacking ships against intensive anti-aircraft fire, despite the fact that the Mustangs were outnumbered by the German fighters. For most of the Mustang pilots it was the psychological factor of flying low level on one engine for long periods over the North Sea in winter that was the hardest part to take. Faith is of course a great help in the face of adversity, anxiety and stress; and we had this in spades with the Packard Merlin. One particular discomfort experienced in the Mustang that was hard to take on a daily basis was sitting on the dinghy seat pack for several hours. The packing of the K-type dinghy left an uneven and lumpy surface to the seat that created pressure points. We tried to ease this by shifting position on the seat but after several hours it did not make much difference as the backside became bruised and numb. Towards the end of the war a water cushion arrived on the squadron which when strapped on the dinghy pack made the seat more comfortable as well as providing drinking water if adrift in a dinghy. However, with the cushion filled with water the parachute and dinghy pack became heavy to carry. It also became as hard as a wooden seat and very cold; neither condition conducive to easing the occupational affliction of sedentary pilots. The most popular solution to achieve a comfortable seat with a precaution against subzero temperatures was to place just enough scotch and water with a little air in the cushion to float just clear of the dinghy pack.
Looking across at fellow pilots on the long outward leg of the mission it was interesting to see what some pilots carried on the cockpit combing between the windscreen and instrument panel. Apart from a map there might be a sandwich; or an orange, apple or banana from the aircrew special rations. While pealing a banana or eating an apple presented no problems after removing one’s oxygen mask, I never worked out how to peal an orange satisfactorily while flying at wave top height. Other items visible included the aircrew chocolate ration, and once I saw a pilot smoking a cigarette with the canopy partially open, presumably with the oxygen turned off to prevent an explosion. There was one young pilot officer who always carried a book on the combing. It was not a bible and if asked why he always commented there was not much to do on the way across the North Sea to Norway. Although I spent some of my formative years sailing the Solent and the English Channel I could never come to terms with the North Sea. Flying over the North Sea was never for me – the blue above and the blue below. The North Sea for me was always a dark, dangerous and angry sea with the wind blowing the tops off the waves, and the sky above an overcast grey. There were many times when I would feel fog in my throat; even on the return to Scotland there was still what Joyce described so aptly in ‘Ulysses’ – The snotgreen sea. The scrotumtightening sea! For if the aircraft experienced problems the chances of survival, even when baling out successfully, were very remote.
One outstanding, extrovert personality on the squadron was Flight Lieutenant Graham Pearson; an experienced and aggressive fighter pilot with a reputation of being a bit wild and unusual, even among a bunch of fighter pilots. He was two years older than me and we became firm friends. He acted as my mentor, while leading me astray on and off the squadron. One mission in particular was typical of his press-on approach to life. While returning to Peterhead from Norway a Mosquito pilot who had been hit while attacking the shipping called to report that his remaining engine was about to fail and he would have to ditch the aircraft. By sheer luck Graham Pearson picked up the Mosquito below and gave it top cover as it started to loss height. Sector control had a fix on the aircraft and reported a Warwick with an airborne lifeboat heading towards them. The Warwick intercepted them when the Mosquito was about 100 miles out from Scotland and shortly afterwards the Mosquito called that he would ditch. The Mosquito made a perfect touch-down on the water and after jettisoning the escape hatch, the pilot and his navigator climbed into a circular J-type dinghy. The Mosquito remained floating on the water for a while, probably due to the wooden construction and near empty fuel tanks. The Warwick flew overhead and dropped smoke flares to establish wind speed and direction. The Warwick carried a lifeboat of twenty feet in length with large flotation chambers fore and aft. The lifeboat carried sails, oars and two small outboard engines, together with survival gear, rations, an emergency radio and signalling gear. The Warwick flew into wind over the dinghy at 1,000 feet to drop the lifeboat so that it would land on the sea upwind of the dinghy. Three large parachutes lowered the lifeboat down to the sea with an automatic release to disengage the parachutes as the lifeboat touched the water. The lifeboat hit the water and two rockets in the bow fired two drogue sea anchors to reduce drift, as a rocket on each side amidships fired a lifeline for the dinghy crew to pull themselves to the lifeboat. Unfortunately, the Warwick pilot did not release the lifeboat sufficiently far upwind of the dinghy and it landed in the water to one side and level with the dinghy. Only two of the parachutes released and the remaining chute filled with air acted as a spinnaker sailing the lifeboat away downwind. The Mosquito crew tried paddling to catch it but the wind was too strong and the lifeboat drifted away from them.
Graham Pearson called to say he would try to deflate the chute by firing at it. He made a firing pass at the chute before calling he was out of ammunition. The chute continued to fill with air and draw the lifeboat farther away from the Mosquito crew in the dinghy. ‘GP’ then called that he would attempt to deflate the chute by hitting it with his wing tip. As the Mustang skimmed the waves and dipped one wing it flicked the top of a wave. There was a good chance that it would cartwheel into the sea if not from hitting a wave then in becoming hooked up on the parachute. Fortunately he missed the chute and I think this must have shaken even his flamboyant approach to life as he did not make a second run. He was by this time low on fuel and although still earl
y afternoon the light was fading and he informed sector control he was returning to base, leaving the Warwick orbiting the unfortunate Mosquito crew to drop a larger Lindeholme dinghy to them. The Warwick remained until dark and dropped float flares before returning to base. An extensive search the following day produced no trace of either the dinghy or the crew of the Mosquito.
Graham Pearson had another unusual and interesting trip to Norway just before the war ended. Over the Skagerrak on the way to Kristiansand in low scud and poor visibility that made contact with the Mosquitoes difficult, the strike force was attacked by FW-190s. The last heard from GP was that he was involved with some F-190s and while attacking one of them he called that he was hit. Nothing more was heard or seen and he was posted as Missing in Action. About two weeks later he walked into the squadron pilots’ crew room wearing a smart Swedish air force flying jacket he exchanged for his tattered fleece-lined leather jacket and flying boots. He told us that while firing at an FW-190 and assuming his wingman was behind him, found to his dismay that the aircraft behind him was the wingman of the FW-190 he was following. He received some damage from an explosive 20 mm cannon shell near the radiator, and anticipating some coolant problems he dived to sea level and out-ran the FW-190 before pulling up into cloud. He had a plan in his mind that should such a thing happen to make for a Swedish air force base near the Norwegian border, and his engine held out long enough for a crash landing in Sweden. Although the Swedes impounded the Mustang and interred him they treated him very well while confining him to the base. However, as he presented a problem due to Swedish neutrality they decided to relieve themselves of the problem by putting him aboard a civil BOAC Mosquito flying the secret missions to Sweden to carry steel ball bearings back to the UK. He squeezed himself into the Mosquito cockpit between the pilot and navigator and after an uncomfortable flight arrived back in England. He told me that had he known the war would end so quickly he would have remained in Sweden until after VE Day to find out if it was true what was said about Swedish girls!
The European war ended on 8 May 1945, and the Mosquitoes and Beaufighters of the strike wings operating from late 1944 experienced far greater losses than the escorting Mustangs, with more than 100 aircrew lost mostly from surface anti-aircraft fire while attacking shipping and coastal targets. The Mustang losses from anti-aircraft fire were nearly non-existent with only one possible loss in this manner. The experienced and battle-hardened Luftwaffe fighter squadrons on rest in Norway from the air fighting over Germany also experienced losses, together with aircraft from the operational training bases along the Norwegian coast. Consequently, the calibre of the German pilots attacking the strike force could range from recognized ‘aces’ to inexperienced tyros.
Between January and May 1945, No. 65 Squadron was consistently more successful in its claims against the Luftwaffe than No. 19 Squadron, with 14 German aircraft claimed destroyed in combat over Norway and eight probably destroyed; for the loss of four pilots. No. 19 Squadron claimed five German aircraft destroyed for the loss of six of its pilots. The Luftwaffe claimed many successes against the RAF over Norway but, as with the RAF claims, post war analysis showed them both to be exaggerated. One of the losses on 65 Squadron that occurred in February 1945 had an interesting sequel. During a dog-fight with Bf-109s while escorting Mosquitoes on a shipping strike in Alesund Fjord, Warrant Officer Caesar was reported shot down with his Mustang crashing into the sea. Apparently a Luftwaffe ace from the ‘Ace of Spades’ staffel fired at him setting the Mustang on fire. The German pilot made enquiries after the war with the RAF regarding the strike operations over Norway and their losses on that date, and after receiving the name of his adversary gave his version of the combat. He said that during a dogfight with several Mustangs and while in a tight turn he put a burst of fire into one of them setting the aircraft on fire. Following the Mustang in a diving turn he waited to see it crash into the sea, when to his surprise the Mustang suddenly decelerated by lowering some flap and he overshot the Mustang. The Mustang pilot raised his flaps and closing behind the Bf-109 opened fire from short range setting the aircraft on fire. The German pilot had just enough height to bale out of his burning aircraft and was picked up by a German gun-boat, who saw the burning Mustang crash into the sea. Warrant Officer Caesar was by this time either too badly injured or too low to bale out, or both. The German pilot stated in his report that the Mustang pilot was the bravest pilot he fought against over France, Germany, Russia and Norway, and he wanted his squadron and his family to know how he died. A similar act of gallantry brought the only fighter VC of the war when Flight Lieutenant Nicholson stayed in his burning Hurricane to shoot down a Bf-109 during the Battle of Britain, before baling out with severe burns. A similar recommendation for the award of the Victoria Cross to Warrant Officer Caesar did not receive official approval due to lack of confirmation. The next highest award for a non-commissioned officer is the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal and presumably the lack of confirmation also precluded the award of this rare decoration, thereby rendering Warrant Officer Caesar ineligible for any recognition of his gallantry.
Shortly after VE Day Wing Commander Peter Wickham, DFC, received the DSO; and led the Mustang wing to rejoin No. 122 Wing at Bentwaters in Suffolk. Squadron Leader Johnny Foster received a well-deserved DFC for his leadership of 65 Squadron, as did Squadron Leader Peter Hearne commanding 19 Squadron. Flight Lieutenant Graham Pearson received a DFC in recognition of his claims against the Luftwaffe of four aircraft destroyed, and he continued to lead me astray during our leisure moments in London with some memorable parties at his mews cottage near Regent’s Park.
The pink granite town of Peterhead is still an important fishing port as it clusters around the busy harbour that is now a satellite of Aberdeen in support of the North Sea oil industry. Gone are the women and girls from the wharf gutting and preparing the fish with blue fish frozen fingers for the night train to London. Gone too are the vast amounts of herring from the Dogger Bank: a daily fish auction when the boats dock now distributes the catch throughout the European Economic Union. The dignified granite city of Aberdeen is the UK Dallas of the North and the centre for North Sea oil prospecting; and the North Sea still takes a toll on those who dare to transgress it. The airfield at Peterhead has like other wartime airfields reverted back to farmland and only an isolated and forlorn looking control tower remains with some old Nissen huts to remind one of the snarling, crackling sound of perhaps two dozen Merlins lining up for a trip to Norway. There were good moments when Jupiter Pluvious would relent and allow one to see the beautiful countryside of Aberdeenshire, with its abundance of famous waters in the pursuit of salmon and sea trout. Just a short distance north of the airfield the Ugie produced a few early salmon, sea trout and river trout, and in Loch Strathbeg were rare Loch Leven trout. In later years I fished more famous waters in the area at more expense and less success.
It would be remiss of me at this stage of my memoir to leave Aberdeenshire without mention of a most remarkable woman: Lady Mac Robert of Dounside, and her heroic, magnificent and generous gestures to the Royal Air Force in memory of her husband, Sir Alexander, and her three sons, Alisdair, Roderick and Iain. All three sons were to die while flying: Alisdair in a pre-war flying accident, Roderick flying a Hurricane fighter and Iain flying a Wellington bomber over Germany. There being no heir to the barony Lady Mac Robert’s response was to donate a Sterling bomber to Bomber Command bearing the family crest and the words ‘Mac Robert’s Reply’. This unequalled gesture was followed by the donation of four Hurricane fighters to Fighter Command; three of them honouring her sons. At the time of purchase in 1941 a four-engine Sterling bomber cost £25,000 and a Hurricane fighter £5,000. Lady Mac Robert’s final magnificent gesture to the Royal Air Force was to donate her home, Dounside House near Aberdeen, as a holiday and retirement home for RAF officers under the Mac Robert Trust; and build a nursing home for the RAF Benevolent Fund named Alestrean House in memory of her three sons. A truly wo
nderful lady!
By May 1945 the RAF Mustang squadrons, including the Polish wing, were all in East Anglia. The sixteen Mustang squadrons in the UK numbered 300 aircraft; a formidable force, although small when compared with the US 8th Air Force’s 1,600 Mustangs in Europe. The Mustang wing at Bentwaters consisting of Nos. 19, 64, 65, 118, 126 and 234 Squadrons formed a super wing under the command of Wing Commander Michael Donnet, DFC, formally of the Belgian Air Force, as part of Tiger Force for the invasion of Japan. We were to be the escort fighters for the new RAF Lincoln bombers entering service in 1945. The Lincolns, developed from the Lancaster bomber, the most famous of the bombers of Bomber Command, would be the RAF’s principal bomber force for the final assault on Japan. At the time of VE Day Tiger Force was to support the invasion of Singapore before the assault on Japan, but Singapore fell without invasion and after the Americans captured Okinawa it became the main base for the invasion of mainland Japan. The Air Ministry intended replacing the Mustang with a smaller single-seat development of the Mosquito named the Hornet, which had the same wooden construction as the Mosquito. The wood construction of the Hornet gave it a light weight for its two Merlin 130/131 engines of 2,030 hp, and with the contra-rotating propellers it had no swing on take-off. A top speed over 450 mph, a range over 2,000 miles and an armament of four 20 mm cannon plus 2,000 lb disposable stores, made it a formidable escort fighter and was faster than the current propeller fighters. The Hornet had a slight edge in speed and range over the Mustang. The safety advantage of two engines for the long sea crossing of 400 miles to Kyushu, the nearest island in Japan, appealed to us and we eagerly awaited their arrival. However, the Hornet production was delayed until after VJ Day on 15 August when Tiger Force disbanded. Prior to this we carried out training exercises with the new Lincoln bombers in preparation for escorting them to the Land of the Rising Sun. The Lincoln was larger and more heavily armed than the Lancaster bomber, and it carried an even heavier bomb load. We also carried out camera-gun combat in preparation for the anticipated combat with the Japanese Zero fighter while escorting the Lincoln bombers to Japan. The Japanese Zero with its lower wing loading was more manoeuvrable with a faster initial acceleration and rate of climb over the Mustang and the Hornet; making it essential to maintain our speed and dive advantage over the Zeros.
