Galland wondered who had gone mad: the light was failing; there were many Me 110s in the air on service trial flights; how were they to tell which one Hess was flying? As a token response he ordered each of his wing commanders to send up one or two planes; he did not tell them why. By his account there were about ten minutes left until dark. If he meant civil twilight this places Göring’s call at about ten o’clock as Hess was making his final leg towards the Northumbrian coast. Why Göring should have given such a pointless order – indeed why the Reichsmarschall, who had extended so many peace feelers himself, should have wanted the envoy shot down – is hard to imagine; it is harder to conceive why Galland should have made the story up.
Karl-Heinz Pintsch in his post-war account to James Leasor said that after Hess had taken off he waited in the Messerschmitt administrative building until shortly after nine, then phoned the branch of the Air Ministry in Berlin responsible for the directional radio beams used by German bombers to find their targets. Speaking on behalf of the Deputy Führer, he asked for a beam from Augsburg to Dungavel Hill, 15km west of Glasgow. He was told this was difficult as they had a big raid over Britain that night, but a beam could be provided until 22.00.40 If true, this would not have helped Hess, who did not reach the British coast until some twenty minutes later. However, Pintsch’s call provides a possible explanation for Göring’s knowledge.
BRITISH AIR DEFENCES
If a remarkable story printed in The Yorkshire Post in 1969 is to be believed – and there is no reason not to believe it – Hess was expected that night. The story came from Albert James Heal, who in 1941 had been Yorkshire Area Secretary of the Transport and General Workers’ Union.41 He claimed that at about midday on 9 May he had had a telephone call from Ernest Bevin, Minister of Labour in Churchill’s government, who had asked him to go to the Civic Hall, Sheffield, that evening; Bevin was to address a regional conference there and needed to speak to him urgently.
When Heal arrived Bevin took him into a private room and produced a coded message, which, he said, he had just received from one of his industrial contacts inside Germany. The code was one that Heal had devised when secretary of the South Wales ‘No More War’ movement. He had taught it to a London girl, evidently now Bevin’s ‘industrial contact’ inside Germany. Decoded, the message appeared to say that Rudolf Hess was to fly to Britain to meet the Duke of Hamilton. Heal asked for more time to check this. Meanwhile Bevin had to deliver a speech in Leeds. Heal drove him there, then went to work again on the code, and satisfied himself that his original interpretation was correct: Hess was about to fly to Hamilton with peace proposals. After his speech Bevin phoned Churchill. Heal, who overheard a part of the conversation, gained the impression that Churchill treated it as a joke.
The following morning at 9.30 Heal met Bevin again and was told that Hess had arrived in Scotland; he was under no circumstances to divulge the information. Of course, on Heal’s chronology that morning was 10 May, and Hess was still at his home in Harlaching. Yet Heal was recalling events almost 30 years later; no doubt he had simply worked back one day from the 10th,42 when Hess was known to have made his flight. In fact the conference in Leeds at which Bevin spoke was not on the 9th, but the 10th. The following morning was therefore the 11th, and Hess had indeed arrived. Heal’s account thus becomes wholly plausible, the more so because it is hard to think why a trade union official should invent such a basically preposterous tale.
Testimony that Hess was known to be in the air even earlier in the evening of the 10th comes from James Douglas, then Duty Supervisor in the Mayfair, London, Information Bureau of the BBC Monitoring Service. Douglas recalls receiving what was termed a ‘flash’ message from the BBC Listening Centre at Evesham at some time around 8.00 p.m. Evesham had picked up a south German (Douglas thinks Munich) radio station announcement that the Deputy Führer had taken off on a flight and had not returned. Douglas asked Evesham to put it on the teleprinter, which they did, and he immediately sent it to the Air Ministry and Fighter Command Headquarters. Subsequently he received two further messages with additional details including the type of plane Hess was flying and the direction in which he was heading. When Douglas left the Bureau at 11.30 p.m. Hess was, so far as he knew, still missing in an aeroplane, and on reaching home he told his wife. She remembers this well.43
The difficulty with the story is that there is no trace either in the BBC digests of monitored enemy broadcasts or in the boxes of raw ‘flash’ forms retained in the Imperial War Museum archives of any message about Hess on 10 May. On the other hand both sources have what is regarded as the first announcement of Hess having taken an aeroplane and disappeared broadcast by the Deutschlandsender, Berlin, on 12 May.
The obvious inference is that after some 60 years Douglas’s memory had slipped by two days. In order to test this, the 12 May Berlin announcement of Hess’s disappearance was read out to Douglas, omitting the date. ‘Hess started on Saturday 10 May at about 1800 from Augsburg on a flight from which he has not returned up to now. A letter which he left behind unfortunately showed in its confusion the traces of mental disturbance …’44 On hearing ‘confusion’ and ‘mental disturbance’ Douglas said this was quite definitely not one of the flash messages he had received that night. The 12 May announcement ended with the presumption that as nothing had been heard from Hess he must have ‘crashed or met with a similar accident’. Douglas would hardly have alerted the Air Ministry and Fighter Command to a message about an aircraft that had taken off two days before and was presumed lost. Moreover, the 12 May announcement from Berlin was reported on the BBC nine o’clock news the same night. Therefore, if Douglas had received the messages on the 12th rather than the 10th his wife would have known that Hess was missing before he returned and told her after midnight. Yet she remembers being surprised.45
There are two possible explanations. The BBC Monitoring Service came under the Ministry of Information, whose Director General was Walter Monkton. He worked closely with the security services, and in view of the sensitivity of Hess’s arrival, could have ordered the suppression of any mention of these broadcasts in the daily digests, and the physical removal or destruction of the flash forms.
Alternatively the messages were not broadcasts picked up by the BBC Monitoring Service but radio signals intercepted by the ‘Y’ Service, which monitored enemy signals traffic. As seen earlier, Adolf Galland had wondered at Göring giving him such an apparently pointless order with regard to Hess’s flight; if we consider the possibility that Göring supplemented his telephone call with en clair radio messages then perhaps the communication was always intended to be picked up by the British and alert them to the fact Hess was coming. It is even possible that Willi Messerschmitt himself sent signals to alert the British to Hess’s flight; some weeks later he sent Air Vice Marshal Trafford Leigh Mallory a coded warning that parachutists would be dropped under cover of a raid on Luton to assassinate the Deputy Führer – as will appear.
Whatever form of communication was used, Hess was expected that night. Apart from Albert Heal’s testimony, there is too much confirmation from other sources to doubt it – as will become clear.
* * *
British air defence relied on a chain of radar installations known as Radio Direction Finding (RDF) stations around the coast, and, once the enemy had come in over land, on Royal Observer Corps (ROC) posts manned chiefly by over-fighting-age volunteers who monitored the onward movement of the intruders by sight or sound bearings. RDF posts reported to Fighter Command Headquarters at Bentley Priory, near Stanmore, Middlesex, where aircraftwomen ‘tellers’ at a plotting table in the ‘Filter Room’ placed markers to represent the position, estimated number, altitude and course of the aircraft on the table-top chart, updating it as further reports came in. When the ROC posts took over they reported to their respective sector centres.
Hess was picked up first at 10.10 p.m. some 70 miles from the coast by the RDF station at
Ottercops Moss, north of Newcastle-upon-Tyne, and reported as ‘three plus aircraft’ at approximately 15,000 feet.46 The report caused considerable scepticism since Ottercops Moss was situated in a hilly area and had a reputation for reporting false echoes from atmospherics. Nevertheless, as the reports continued the track was plotted under the designation ‘Raid X (unidentified) 42’, course due west, speed ‘approximately 300mph’. Four more RDF stations picked up the echo as it neared the coast, but they all reported it as a single aircraft; a subsequent investigation by the Operational Research Section of Fighter Command accepted this majority estimate.47
Two Spitfires from RAF Acklington already on patrol over the Farne Islands were vectored on to the raid,48 and at 10.21 another Spitfire was scrambled from Acklington;49 two would have been unable to keep together in the gathering darkness. The pilot of this plane, Sergeant Maurice Pocock, a veteran of the Battle of Britain, was instructed to patrol the airfield at 15,000 feet, but as he reached 8,000 feet he was told on his radio telephone that the enemy was descending rapidly on a north-westerly course, and was an Me 110; he was directed on to the same heading, but saw nothing against the dark background of hills. Half an hour later he was recalled to base.50
The identification of an Me 110 flying at 50 feet had come from the ROC post at Chatton a few miles inland from Bamburgh at 10.25 p.m.51 It was generally disbelieved even when confirmed by other ROC posts beneath Hess’s westward flight track, because an Me 110 lacked the fuel endurance to get home again.52
Meanwhile the coastal RDF stations reported Raid 42 circling away north-easterly over the Farne Islands.53 The lone aircraft flying west across country was assumed to have broken off from this formation and was consequently given the split-raid designation ‘42J’. The later Operational Research investigators concluded that the outgoing echo ‘was not that of Raid 42 but a fighter aircraft despatched to intercept Raid 42’54 – in short that the fighter was being vectored on to its own radar echo. It is not clear which fighter. It could not have been Pocock, who had been directed overland north-westerly.
Before the formal investigation it was assumed at RAF Ouston, headquarters of No. 13 Fighter Group responsible for this area, that the confusing echoes may have been from the two fighters on patrol over the Farne Islands: ‘RDF plotted raid [42] as travelling towards Holy Island and turning E fading. This may have arisen from plots of 72 White [two Spitfires of 72 Squadron] who were detailed to raid and were searching off Farne and Holy Islands.’55
The operations record book (ORB) of No. 72 Squadron contains no record of these two Spitfires or any other fighters aloft at this time.56 It is also curious that if the outgoing track was actually a Spitfire or Spitfires, the ‘Identification Friend or Foe’ (IFF) radio transponders with which they were equipped to mark them as friendly did not respond. Without the raw information on which the later investigators based their secret report it is idle to speculate on these apparent anomalies; an omission by the officer who wrote up No 72 Squadron’s ORB and malfunctioning IFF are probably to blame.
It could, of course, be suggested that Raid 42 consisted of Hess’s escort of Me 109 fighters led by Heydrich swinging back out to sea, leaving their charge to continue on his westerly course overland, but this is in the highest degree unlikely. Even if Heydrich did escort Hess some of the way up the North Sea, he would have lacked the fuel endurance to stay with him while he flew back and forth waiting for darkness before approaching the British coast.
Hess’s plane was sighted by ROC posts at Jedburgh at 10.30 p.m.57 and Ashkirk moments later; both reported it correctly as an Me 110. There were no further posts on his westerly track and it was not until 10.45, as he neared Dungavel, that his plane was detected again by sound from Glasgow ROC; the speed was estimated by sound bearings as 300mph, and on this data alone Glasgow reported the plane as probably an Me 110.58
Meanwhile, RAF Ayr on the Scottish west coast, some 30 miles south-west of Glasgow, 20 miles west of Dungavel House, had been alerted to a fast-moving bandit moving towards their sector; and at 10.35 p.m. Pilot Officer William ‘Bill’ Cuddie had been sent up in a Defiant night fighter to intercept.59 He was instructed, ‘Scramble Angels two five – zero nine degrees’ (Climb to 2,500 feet, steer 009°), and when he had attained this height, ‘Dive and buster – vector three five zero’ (Dive at full throttle, enemy at 350°).60 Defiants had a rear gunner behind the pilot; by flying below the enemy they were able to see it in silhouette against the night sky and were proving successful night fighters. However, Hess was also flying low. Cuddie did not see him.
There is no doubt that although Hess was expected in some quarters that night he was not deliberately allowed through British air defences: the two known pilots ordered to intercept him, Cuddie and Pocock would certainly have shot him down if they had seen him,61 and it must be assumed the two unknown and unrecorded pilots of 72 White patrolling the Farne Islands would also have done so, since they were controlled by Acklington.
However, a recent book by a Czech military archivist, Jiri Rajlich,62 claims that two Czech Hurricane pilots of 245 Squadron, RAF Aldergrove, Northern Ireland, were also vectored on to Hess’s Me 110 that night and did sight him but were ordered to break off action just as they were going in for the kill. Rajlich based his account on the testimony of one of the two pilots, both of whom have since died, and his flying logs. There is no mention of times in the flying log,63 certainly no mention of their patrol in the ORB of RAF Aldergrove, and the pilots are not recorded as being in the air at the time. That is understandable, for if such an extraordinary incident did occur it would have been kept out of the ORB and all parties would have been sworn to secrecy.64
Of more significance for any theory that Hess was allowed through British air defences – because it is documented – are the actions, or rather the inaction, of the Duke of Hamilton. He was on duty that night at the controller’s desk at RAF Turnhouse. For the base commander to be on late night duty seems surprising in itself, especially since he had flown a Hurricane to RAF Drem that afternoon and practised a dogfight over the Firth of Forth with his second in command.65 However, it is not possible to study the Turnhouse duty rosters to discover how usual or unusual it was for the base commander to stand night duty.
Although Hess did not enter the Turnhouse sector until towards the end of his flight, Turnhouse and Drem, which came under control from Turnhouse, were the only two RAF bases in a position to scramble fighters that failed to do so. Moreover, as Hess moved towards Glasgow and into the Clyde (Anti-Aircraft) Gun Defended Area, which was controlled by Turnhouse, requests to open fire were refused, and no air-raid sirens were sounded.66 This was extraordinary since the aircraft was heading towards a city that had been subjected to recent bombing raids.
An NCO at AA Brigade headquarters, Glagow, remembers the ‘flap’ that night as the unidentified aircraft that did not respond to challenge and ignored requests to show the colours of the day moved through the sights of at least two heavy AA batteries and Turnhouse refused permission to open fire.67 An intelligence officer on duty in the gun operations room that night has explained that Turnhouse rejected the Observer Corps identification of an Me 110; Hess’s plane was therefore ‘unidentified’ and it was the rule not to fire on ‘unidentified’ planes.68 This is difficult to accept in view of the imminent danger to the inhabitants of Glasgow, and the very different reaction to ‘Raid 42J’ from RAF Ouston, Acklington and Ayr; indeed it is very hard to account for Hamilton’s inaction unless he was expecting Hess.
ROC observers on a hill at West Kilbride on the coast of the Firth of Clyde were alerted to the approach of an Me 110 by ROC Glasgow, and heard the roar of the engines before they sighted Hess’s plane speeding towards them very low. At 10.52 p.m. it shot past, actually below the level of their observation post, and so close they were able to make out every detail in the moonlight: the black crosses on wings and fuselage, the swastika on the distinctive twin tai
l fin, as it swung out over the firth and turned southwards.69
The next report came from the ROC post at Ardrossan, just south, as Hess headed inland again and began following the railway line to Kilmarnock. Finally, soon after 11.00 p.m. he was sighted almost overhead from the ROC post at the edge of Eaglesham Moor, some twelve miles north-west of Dungavel House. He baled out as they watched. They saw his parachute open and the aeroplane falling away and diving out of control. Moments later flames lit the sky and they heard the crash. It was nine minutes past eleven.70
HAUPTMANN ALFRED HORN
Hess was helped out of his parachute harness by David McLean, head ploughman at Floors Farm, Eaglesham, just south of Glasgow, where he had come down. McLean asked whether he was British or German. ‘German,’ Hess replied, and after introducing himself in English as Hauptmann (Captain) Alfred Horn, said he wanted to go to Dungavel House; he had an important message for the Duke of Hamilton.71 No doubt McClean told him he was only some twelve miles from Dungavel.
He had difficulty putting his weight on the ankle he had struck while falling out of his plane, and McLean helped him limp from the field to the farm cottage in which he lived with his mother and sister. There Hess was made comfortable in a capacious armchair by the fireside and McLean’s mother offered him tea. He asked for water instead according to his own account, but a young private in the 3rd Battalion Renfrewshire Home Guard who had heard his plane overhead, seen him bale out and the plane crash and had made his way to the cottage, found him drinking tea in the kitchen when he arrived, watched closely by McLean. The private, Alan Starling, was particularly struck by his flying boots, which were of a quality he had never seen before. The airman reached into a pocket and showed them all photographs of his wife and family, saying ‘in very good English’ that his name was Horn and asking again if he was anywhere near the Duke of Hamilton’s house. ‘The Duke of Hamilton,’ he kept repeating. ‘Where is the Duke of Hamilton?’72
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