I was posted to Medmenham in 1942 with several others after passing my PI course. The officers’ mess was an enormous Nissen hut like Paddington Station and that was where we were sorted out to work in the various sections and I ended up in ‘J’. Group Captain Peter Stewart was the station commander – he was a rebel, wickedly mischievous and great fun. His greatest wish was to produce a weekly publication of some of the brilliant photographs taken by reconnaissance pilots flying solo and unarmed. Their results were seen by so few and he wanted more people to see these marvellous photographs. At that time the Air Ministry issued a dreary document – AMWIS – ‘Air Ministry Weekly Intelligence Summary’. It had a dark red cover, no illustrations and very few readers among the aircrews of Bomber Command for whom it was intended.10
Shirley Eadon in the Press and Publicity Section prepares photographic material for inclusion in Evidence in Camera.
Constance Babington Smith relates how Group Captain Stewart first got the idea for a picture magazine. Visiting HQ Bomber Command one day, he sat for a while after lunch in the anteroom:
He glanced idly round the room, and then suddenly caught his breath. He had just noticed that Air Vice-Marshal Saundby was deep in the ‘Illustrated London News’ and that all round the room the picture magazines and the illustrated papers were being looked at, while most of the other papers were lying untouched. What photographic intelligence needed was promotion. The raw material was flowing in every day; all that was wanted was the right presentation to make it really interesting.11
Shirley continues:
Peter Stewart pushed things along relentlessly against much murmuring and dire prophecy of breach of security from higher quarters. We pressed on and produced a mock up of No. 1 Evidence in Camera in an attractive blue cover designed by one of the many artists on the station and containing full page photographs and brief captions.12
The mock-up of the proposed magazine was sent to the chief of the Air Staff, who replied, ‘Excellent. Proceed’:
Eventually, in September 1942 we produced and circulated the first edition, the printers generously carrying the cost - it was a member of the printing firm who chose the title. So, with a touch of individuality and dash, characteristic of many another Air Force operation, the first number was launched from the banks of the Thames, like a new missile.
Copies were distributed to all RAF establishments and a number of naval and military units. It was an immediate success and there could be no withdrawal. The Air Ministry took over financial responsibility and ‘Evidence in Camera’ became an official publication showing selected air photographs taken on operations by the combined Allied Air Forces and aimed at the pilots. Each week the publication had a different cover design and cartoon frontispiece.
Winston Churchill obviously inspected it from time to time and reprimanded us on one occasion for using the German word Muenchen in a caption instead of Munich. Quite rightly I think.
The co-editors, Flight Lieutenant Howard Simmons (head of section) and me, Section Officer Shirley Eadon, remained unchanged throughout until it came to a close in March 1945. I feel really lucky having had such a wonderful job.
Shirley described RAF Medmenham as a ‘bunch of nuts’ – they were all distinctive characters and individualists. She recalled that Charlotte Bonham Carter, carrying her trademark umbrella and breakfast remnants, used to take a shortcut to work across the playing fields to avoid having to walk up the long drive. One day the groundsman confronted her and told her that she was wearing out the grass. Charlotte replied that she paid her RAF Medmenham station sports’ subscription but never played games, so walking on the grass was the way she got value for her expenditure.
The possibility of enemy gas attacks on civilians was one of the earliest concerns of the British authorities, stemming from the terrible effects of the use of gas in the First World War. It was believed that the enemy could release gas in some form from aircraft over the civilian population. Consequently, at the outbreak of war everyone was issued with a gas mask in a case, which had to be carried at all times no matter where the individual was. Gas tests were part of basic training for armed forces personnel, followed by regular practices.
The procedure was that a group went into a sealed room and put their gas capes and masks on, after which a gas pellet was released and the order was given to remove masks. The occupants had to hold their breath and move outside in an orderly fashion to the fresh air where everyone did lots of coughing. Pamela Howie disliked the practice as it brought on her asthma. Pat Peat had a nastier experience during a test when she was hidden behind a tall man in the sealed room and the pellet was released before she had her mask on correctly. As a result of the gas spraying her face she lost her sight for six months and spent that time in hospital having autohaemotherapy – fortunately she recovered.
The gas practices at Medmenham were carried out monthly at 8.30 a.m. on a Saturday morning. Squadron Leader Geoffrey Dimbleby was responsible for observing and checking that everything went according to plan on these practices and that all personnel conformed to the rules. On one occasion he saw what appeared to be an animated gas cape making its way across the parade ground, when everyone was supposed to be in the shelters. He wondered who it was, and then saw that it was carrying a little wicker shopping basket!
Notes
1. Saffery, John, Squadron Leader DSO, from a paper, undated but written while he still in PRU (Medmenham Collection).
2. IWM 4009 96/4/1 The papers of Mrs Pamela Brisley-Wilson (née Howie), held by the Department of Documents at the Imperial War Museum. The author was unable to locate the copyright holder.
3. Gilbert, Martin, ‘Winston S. Churchill, Companion’, Volume V, Part 3, The Coming of War 1936–1939, Heinemann, 1982.
4. O’Neil (née Peat), Pat, recorded interviews.
5. Lawton (née Laws), Millicent, conversation.
6. Sowry (née Adams), Jeanne, memoirs.
7. Leaf, Edward, Above All Unseen, Appendix D (Patrick Stephens Ltd, 1997).
8. Horne (née Macallister), Elspeth, memoirs.
9. Hurley (née Price), Margaret, correspondence.
10. Komrower (née Eadon), Shirley, audio recording made for the Medmenham Collection, 2001/2.
11. Babington Smith, Constance, Evidence in Camera, pp.110–1.
12. Komrower (née Eadon), Shirley, document DC 76/46, undated, held by RAF Museum.
A NEW PURPOSE FOR PHOTOGRAPHY
The Bombers
Whenever I see them ride on high
Gleaming and proud in the morning sky
Or lying awake in bed at night
I hear them pass on their outward flight
I feel the mass of metal and guns
Delicate instruments, deadweight tons
Awkward, slow, bomb racks full
Straining away from the downward pull
Straining away from home and base
And I try to see the pilot’s face.
I imagine a boy who’s just left school
On whose quick-learnt skill and courage cool
Depend the lives of the men in his crew
And success of the job they have to do.
And something happens to me inside
That is deeper than grief, greater than pride
And though there is nothing I can say
I always look up as they go their way
And care and pray for every one,
And steel my heart to say,
‘Thy will be done’.1
Sixty-three minutes after war was declared, a Blenheim reconnaissance aircraft and a small bomber force took off from RAF Wyton in Cambridgeshire to carry out Bomber Command’s first photographic sortie of the Second World War. The Blenheim was the first British aircraft of the war to cross the German coast. The brief was to confirm the location of enemy warships north of Wilhelmshaven, which had been photographed the day before by one of Sidney Cotton’s pilots. The aircraft returned 4 hours later with excell
ent quality photographs confirming the numbers and location of the ships. The subsequent loss rate of the Blenheims, however, when carrying out further photographic sorties from Wyton, and later in France, proved conclusively that they were too slow and unresponsive for effective reconnaissance purposes.
The Air Ministry turned to Sidney Cotton, and the Heston Special Flight was quickly formed. Using the fast, manoeuvrable Spitfires for reconnaissance sorties enabled pilots to reach the target in the shortest possible time, take the required photographs and out-fly enemy aircraft on returning to base. Although the photography the Spitfires brought back was small scale and could not be examined with the conventional apparatus available at that time, the single Wild A-5 survey machine at the Aircraft Operating Company was able to exploit it and Wembley soon became the central point for photographic interpretation services. HQ Bomber Command retained its own separate Interpretation Section, however, and the first female PIs of the Second World War, who had been recruited and trained at Heston, moved there and soon afterwards were enrolled into the WAAF. They were soon to be involved in a contentious interpretation event that was, unfortunately, the forerunner of other similar incidents.
Early bombing strategies were an inexact science, lacking the advantages of the navigational aids and target sighting devices that improved accuracy later on. A few hours after a bombing raid, a reconnaissance aircraft flew over the area and the photographs obtained were analysed to establish the accuracy of the bomber’s navigation to the target area, and the overall effectiveness of the raid in achieving strategic target bombing priorities. The difficulties experienced in achieving accurate navigation, the camouflage and decoys that could mislead air crews, and the enemy ground and air defences, often resulted in bombs missing the target by a wide margin, and sometimes being dropped in the wrong area altogether.
During the six months of the so-called Phoney War, when President Roosevelt’s bombing truce prevented any bombing on mainland Europe, only one British attack took place on German territory. In March 1940 Bomber Command was ordered to carry out a reprisal raid for a German attack a few days earlier on Royal Navy vessels at anchor in Scapa Flow, in the Orkney Islands. During that attack, enemy bombs had been dropped on land, killing one civilian and wounding seven others. On 19–20 March, forty British bombers attacked the chosen target of Hornum, a seaplane base on the German island of Sylt. The air crews returned from the raid reporting a completely successful operation, and an overjoyed government and press immediately publicised the total destruction of the enemy base. However, when the post-attack photographs were examined at Bomber Command a few hours later, the PIs could find no sign of damage and not even one bomb crater. The reaction was total disbelief by all those who, understandably, needed to show that Britain had the capacity to inflict damage on the enemy. After all, the air crew had reported having seen the bombs falling, followed by fires and widespread damage and surely that was proof enough. Some reports state that orders were then given that the PIs be locked in their room with the photographs until they did ‘find’ the claimed destruction. The press were clamouring for photographs but the report remained the same – no bomb damage was to be seen. Even after PIs at the Air Ministry confirmed their colleagues’ reports, the recriminations and anger against them continued. It was not until a further photographic sortie was flown several days later, and the new photographs analysed, that it was found that the bombs had fallen on a Danish island many miles away and the actual target had been missed completely.2
Stella Ogle, a WAAF officer at Bomber Command, wrote:
We were constantly being pressurized by the Station Commander to publish glowing reports of glorious successes. If the interpreters found no trace of damage or craters, they were accused of minimising the results, and our unfortunate officer in charge received hell – no one believed our reports, and our reputation was nil. The worst of it was, so often no damage existed, and bomber crews had to be told the truth. Can you imagine our feelings?
To begin with, they hated taking night photographs as operating the cameras meant just one more headache during a period of great danger, and they always had the thought of carrying with them in the aircraft a large amount of flammable material in the form of film, which they would be unable to discharge in an emergency. The photographic flash was the responsibility of the bomb aimer, and the method of launching the flash was primitive. They might have to consult outdated maps of, for example, miles and miles of featureless Dutch polder-country made up of interminable canals, and trace their position by some group of willows, or a kink in a dyke, and desperately try to plot craters by the bomb flashes. Half the time they were lost, as navigational aids and bomb aiming devices were of the crudest. It was tragic when they managed to stagger back with dead or wounded only to be told that they had been nowhere near the target by what they considered to be a bunch of idiots. We longed to be able to see successful results and hear their relieved and excited remarks.3
Stella Ogle and an RAF colleague at Pinetree assess the extent of bomb damage after a raid.
In September 1941 the small group of male and female interpreters who worked at HQ Bomber Command moved to RAF Medmenham to set up a new Third-Phase Damage Assessment Section, which was identified by the letter ‘K’. Its function was to identify, assess and calculate the extent of the damage caused to the enemy by each bombing raid. Subsidiary to this was assistance in establishing the accuracy of navigation of the aircraft and assessment of the disruption caused to German industrial output permanently or temporarily. Even a short-term closure was worthwhile if it disrupted the production of essential equipment. The Industry Section, which monitored manufacturing rates of output, was also supplied with an accurate appraisal of the time required for the enemy to restore normal production.
Stella Ogle and Pat Donald met on their PI training course and joined ‘K’ Section together, remaining life-long friends. Pat said:
I had done a secretarial course before joining the WAAF in 1941. After basic training I was posted as a clerk (general duties) to RAF Kinloss, a Coastal Command station on the Moray Firth, in Scotland. I was then posted to RAF Medmenham as a clerk/typist and fell foul of an obnoxious WAAF corporal who once put me on a charge for being late on duty. However, soon afterwards I was recommended for a commission and PI training and was quietly pleased to note that the corporal remained a corporal!4
The Damage Assessment Section took over a large first-floor room in one of the towers of Danesfield House; two large bay windows gave them plentiful light and provided splendid views of the gardens and river. American PIs joined the Section in 1942, giving a welcome boost to numbers as the bombing campaign intensified.
A post-attack photograph of a raid on Cologne, 28 October 1944, shows smoke from areas still burning and the extent of the burnt-out buildings.
Allied bombing was used as a strategic weapon aimed at the total destruction of the enemy’s means of production on the one hand, and of their cities and population morale on the other. By the spring of 1942, the British build-up of large numbers of bombers and the development of longer-range aircraft marked the start of increased-scale raids over specific industrial targets, especially in the Ruhr and in major strategic cities. From August 1942, when the American heavy bombers joined the bombing campaign, the US 8th Air Force attacked by day and the RAF raids continued at night. New navigational electronic guidance devices began to help in attaining greater accuracy in reaching and destroying targets.
PI played a significant part in each phase of an operation. In the planning phase all sources of intelligence would be used, including air photography from an increased number of reconnaissance flights. The interpretation of these photographs could result in reports from several different PI sections at Medmenham, all providing intelligence for effective planning. Air photographs were also used in the targeting material essential for exact navigation by bomber air crews. Photography taken during and after the attack would show if the navigation w
as accurate, if the bombing objective had been achieved and would show the extent of the disruption caused.
In May 1944 the Damage Assessment Section moved to High Wycombe Air Station, code-named Pinetree, to join the HQ USAAF 8th Bomber Command. This relocation provided greater space, availability of photographic materials and numbers of personnel. Pinetree was based in Wycombe Abbey, which had been a private girls’ school until it was commandeered in 1942. The premises reputedly caused some hilarity among the incoming US personnel who found various instructions, designed for the recently evacuated girl pupils, still stuck to the dormitory walls, one of which stated: ‘Ring if mistress required.’ The British PIs at Pinetree became part of a US unit under the command of an American officer, with the same friendly co-operation prevailing between the different nationalities working together as there was at Medmenham. While the US personnel at Medmenham had to endure British food rationing, the British PIs benefited perhaps from getting American-style rations. Pat recalled:
I was amazed at the amount of food available at ‘Pinetree’ and resented any complaints of British food by US personnel. There was always chicken and ice cream served on Sundays. I remember that the Carol Gibbons Orchestra and the Glenn Miller Band came to play.
Women of Intelligence: Winning the Second World War with Air Photos Page 17
