The Fairey Battle: A Reassessment of its RAF Career

by Greg Baughen

  Fonthill Media Limited

  Fonthill Media LLC

  www.fonthillmedia.com

  office@fonthillmedia.com

  First published in the United Kingdom and the United States of America 2017

  British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data:

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  Copyright © Greg Baughen 2017

  ISBN 978-1-78155-585-9

  The right of Greg Baughen to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior permission in writing from Fonthill Media Limited

  Typeset in 10.5pt on 13pt Sabon

  Printed and bound in England

  Preface

  When it was first suggested that I should write a book about the Fairey Battle, my reaction was not entirely positive. There was nothing wrong with the idea; the Fairey Battle is a fascinating plane. Any plane that attracts such venomous criticism has to be interesting. However, my series on the history of British air power was already taking up all my time, and writing a book on a single plane seemed an unnecessary distraction. I was about to email an instant refusal when I started having second thoughts. In many ways, this one plane seemed to sum up so many of the problems with British air policy in the late thirties and early forties. It was a plane that was designed for strategic bombing, but turned out to be far more capable of providing shorter-range tactical air support. It was therefore inevitably at the very heart of the debate over whether air power could best be used independently or in support of ground and naval forces. A reappraisal of the Fairey Battle offered another way of looking at British air policy. There was no shortage of material; my research had already uncovered much new information on the bomber, most of which had not been possible to include in previous books. As it turned out, further research revealed the story was even more intriguing than I imagined.

  For an aircraft that regularly appears in ‘worst ever designed’ listings, the Fairey Battle had surprisingly few faults. It was technically an excellent design; its performance was far in excess of anything the Air Ministry had been expecting, nor was it a dangerous or difficult plane to fly. When it first flew, it was hailed as the best bomber in the world. Its operational history, however, tells a very different story. The horrendous losses suffered in France in May 1940 seemed to justify its appalling reputation.

  However, it was not these losses that had triggered criticism of the plane. Indeed, judgement had been passed on the bomber long before May 1940. Before it had even entered service, just months after being declared a world-beater, the Battle had already acquired the ‘obsolescent’ tag in Air Ministry circles. No other plane had ever fallen from grace so quickly. No plane, however old or inadequate, seems to have attracted the ‘obsolescent’ or ‘obsolete’ tag as regularly in official files as the Fairey Battle. Whenever the bomber was mentioned it always seemed necessary to remind everyone it was obsolete. The words ‘obsolescent’ or ‘obsolete’ became prefixes, but was this assessment justified? A closer look at the evidence would suggest that it was not, and that the arguments used by the Ministry to justify the claim seem rather flimsy. The plane was incapable of taking on the Bf 109, it was claimed, but which bomber in the world was capable of doing that? It was judged to be too slow, yet it was no slower than the Wellington or Ju 87 Stuka, both of which built up formidable reputations. It was supposed to be inadequately armed, but the Stuka was armed no better.

  So, what went wrong? Did the plane’s operational career have to be such a disaster? Again, the answer would seem to be no. Indeed, it could and should have made a significant contribution to the Allied cause. This is not a judgement that relies on the wisdom that hindsight always provides, it is one based on what commanders and aircrews thought at the time. Even before the plane flew its first bombing mission, they knew what the problems were and they had the solutions. This is the story of why these solutions were never adopted.

  Acknowledgements

  As always, my thanks to the staff at the National Archives at Kew and the RAF Museum Hendon, and a particular thank you to Barbara Gilbert at the Yeovilton Fleet Air Arm museum for unearthing material which threw some light on early Fairey ideas for P.27/32. Many thanks also to William Harrison for the priceless images he has provided, and Phil Butler, Ian White and Tony Buttler for being wonderfully helpful once more. I am also indebted to Harry Raffall for the detailed information he provided on the Enigma intelligence that led to the 26 May Battle raid on Château Roumont.

  CONTENTS

  Preface

  Acknowledgements

  1Why A Single-Engined Bomber?

  2The Battle Becomes Obsolete

  3Operational Debut and Problems

  4Lessons Hard-Learned

  5The Beginnings of a Revival

  6A Wasted Resource

  Conclusion

  Appendix I

  Appendix II

  Appendix III

  Appendix IV

  Appendix V

  Appendix VI

  Appendix VII

  Endnotes

  Bibliography

  Index

  The D.H.9A, the first of the inter-war single-engined medium bombers. (Crown)

  The mighty Avro Aldershot single-engined medium bomber. (Crown)

  The Vickers Virginia, the standard heavy bomber in the twenties. (Crown)

  The Hawker Horsley became the standard RAF single-engined medium bomber. (Crown)

  The Fairey Fox, the first in a new line of single-engined light bombers. (Crown)

  The Hawker Hart, the single-engined light bomber replacement for the Fairey Fox. (Crown)

  The twin-engined Boulton Paul Sidestrand was deemed to offer no advantage over its single-engined rivals. (Crown)

  The Vickers Wellington was developed as a twin-engined alternative to the Fairey Battle. (T. Buttler)

  The Handley Page Hampden was also built for comparison purposes with the Battle. (Crown)

  The Fairey Battle’s rival, the Armstrong Whitworth A.W.29. The turret was manually operated. (Crown via P. Butler)

  An early Fairey proposal to meet P.27/32, dated 30 August 1933. (Based on YEORN 2011/177/0205 FAA Museum)

  Early P.27/32 Fairey monoplane proposals had sections cut out of the wing root, which meant the wing required supporting struts. (W. Harrison)

  A June 1934 Fairey P.27/32 proposal was based on their G.4/31M monoplane powered by an Armstrong Siddeley Tiger Mk II engine. (Based on National Archives DSIR23/3921)

  Another early P.27/32 proposal, showing the large wing cut outs which ruled out a fully cantilever wing. In this case, the supporting struts were below the wing. (W. Harrison)

  The Boeing 247, one of the advanced fully-cantilever wing monoplanes appearing in the United States around the time of Fairey and Lobelle’s visit.

  A Fairey proposal, probably late 1934, for the P.4/34 light bomber. A similar cockpit layout was adopted for the P.27/32 around the same time. (Based on drawing A1716 FAA Museum)

  The Fairey P.27/32 design as it was in late 1934 or early 1935. With a fully cantilever wing and twin cockpits, the design had almost reached its final form (W. Harrison)

  The continuous cockpit introduced in 1935. (W. Harrison)

  January 1936 design drawings showing the Battle in its final form. (W. Harrison)

  K4303, the first Ba
ttle prototype, six weeks after its first flight, with its original rear canopy. (Crown via P. Butler)

  K4303 in January 1937 with the revised rear canopy. (Crown via P. Butler)

  The internal cabin of the Battle, looking rearwards towards the gunner radio operator’s position.

  Battle Mk. I K7650 of No. 63 Sqn. The navigator can be seen next to the gunner, poking his head out of the internal cabin. (T. Buttler)

  The view looking forward with the bomb aimer’s ‘bathtub’ in the lower half. (W. Harrison)

  A view of the underside of a Battle. The bomb aimer’s sliding hatch is just behind the radiator bath. (W. Harrison)

  The bomb aimer peering through the ventral bomb-aiming hatch. (W. Harrison)

  A close up of the bomb aimer at work. (W. Harrison)

  The Fairey Battle shows off its manoeuvrability in this 1939 Flight image.

  The Austin-built Battle K 9281 tested at Martlesham in Sept 1938. See Appendix 2. (Crown via P. Butler)

  The first Fairey P.4/34 prototype. It was essentially a scaled down Battle. (Crown via P. Butler)

  The ponderous looking Hendon that Fairey were building alongside the Battle. (Crown)

  Air Chief Marshal Ludlow-Hewitt. (Crown)

  Air Commodore Slessor, responsible for many of the plans to use Battles to bomb the Ruhr. (Crown)

  Although the Battle was used later as an engine test bed, most of the engines it was trialled with in the late thirties were serious proposals for production models. This version, with the air-cooled Taurus, was tested in June 1938. (Crown via P. Butler)

  Fairey’s February 1938 proposal for a long-range Merlin-X-powered Battle. (Based on drawing A51289 FAA Museum)

  A close-up of the Fairey coaxial P.24 Monarch engine. The first Fairey drawing for the Monarch-powered version of the Battle is dated 24 October 1936. (Leonardo Helicopters)

  The P.24 Monarch-powered Battle tested in Ohio in 1942. (Crown via P. Butler)

  The plane first flew with the Sabre in May 1939; the plane shown here flew in 1941. (Crown Via P. Butler)

  The Soviet armoured Il-2 Sturmovik demonstrated single-engined two-seaters could be successful low-level tactical bombers.

  Fairey Battles of No. 88 Squadron in the winter of 1939-1940. (Crown)

  Fairey Battles of No. 105 Squadron flying in Vic formations. The combined fire of the rear gunners was supposed to be capable of beating off enemy fighter attacks. (Crown via P. Butler)

  A gunner in the rear cockpit. The raised rear canopy behind him was supposed to provide some protection from the slipstream but actually produced a downdraught into the gunner’s face. (Crown)

  French Curtiss Hawks accompany a Battles of No. 88 Squadron over France. (Crown)

  A crewman attempting to use the ventral rearward firing gun. (W. Harrison)

  A sideways and downward view of Fairey’s proposed ventral gun position for the Battle. The original document was dated 8 February 1940. (Fairey Files Box 26 RAF Museum)

  Air Marshal Charles Portal, the commander of Bomber Command from April 1940. (Crown)

  Air Marshal ‘Ugly’ Barratt, commander of the BAFF (left) with Air Vice-Marshal Playfair, commander of the AASF. (Crown)

  A low-level attack on a German convoy on 12 May. Attacking in flat terrain made achieving surprise difficult. (Crown)

  A Fairey Battle of No. 142 Squadron forced down over Luxembourg on 10 May 1940. Many Battles were brought down by damage to their engine cooling systems and crashed relatively intact. (Crown)

  Another No. 142 Squadron Battle victim. (Crown)

  The Albert Canal was an excellent anti-tank barrier.

  Fg Off. Thomas’s Battle shot down following the attack on the Vroenhoven bridge 12 May 1940. (Crown)

  The American Brewster Bermuda dive-bomber, ordered by Beaverbrook as a replacement for the Battle. (Crown)

  Vultee Vengeance dive-bombers were also ordered. (Crown)

  The Hawker Henley, the Army’s preferred choice as a replacement for the Battle in the close support role.

  The second Fairey P.4/34 prototype. This was used to test the changes required to turn the bomber into the naval Fulmar fighter. (Crown via Phil Butler)

  The naval Fairey Fulmar was another close-support alternative to the Battle. (Crown via Phil Butler)

  The Air Staff hoped the Westland Lysander would take over the Battle’s air support role. (Crown)

  A Battle trainer in April 1940. With this version, the Battle reverted to the original twin-cockpit layout. (Crown via P. Butler)

  One of the first Battles built for towing targets in May 1940. Over 400 Battle trainers were built during the summer of 1940. (Crown via P. Butler)

  1

  Why A Single-Engined Bomber?

  Developing a long-range medium bomber powered by a single engine seems an odd decision, but in the twenties and early thirties, there was nothing at all odd about the idea. The RAF had ended the First World War with the single-engined Airco D.H.9A as its standard medium day bomber. The twin-engined Airco D.H.10 was just beginning to reach the squadrons, but it did not seem to offer any major advantage over the D.H.9A. A debate raged in the Air Ministry about the relative merits of single-engined versus twin-engined bombers. Advocates of the single-engined approach claimed that there were sound aerodynamic reasons for avoiding two engines. The frontal area of a twin-engined bomber was largely made up of the two engines and the fuselage cross section. Having a single engine in the nose reduced the drag by two-thirds, so the performance of the single-engined bomber would always be superior.1 Single-engined bombers were also cheaper than twin-engined bombers and this did not go unnoticed in a cost-conscious Air Ministry. Following the problems assembling a long-range bomber fleet in the closing stages of the First World War, the Air Ministry was very aware of how expensive large twin and four-engined long-range bombers were.2 However, cost was not the primary driving force behind the preference for single-engined bombers—the Air Staff insisted that they were best for both technical and tactical reasons.

  Throughout the twenties, the single-engined bomber lobby held sway. The Airco D.H.9A continued to be the standard RAF medium bomber for years to come, while the D.H.10 only ever equipped a handful of squadrons. When it came to replacing the D.H.9A, the Air Ministry again went for a single-engined design. The enormous double-decker Avro Aldershot, powered by a single 35-litre Rolls-Royce Condor engine, proved to be the best on offer. There seemed little to choose between the Avro bomber and the contemporary twin-engined Virginia night bomber. Both sides fiercely defended their preference but in truth, neither plane had much going for it. Not many Aldershots were built and most medium bomber squadrons continued using the D.H.9A.

  In the late twenties, Hawker designed the single-engined Horsley as another replacement for the D.H.9A. A few twin-engined Boulton Paul Sidestrand bombers were also ordered for comparison purposes, but the Air Ministry judged there was little to choose between the two. Both carried a 550-lb bomb load; the Sidestrand flew slightly higher and faster; the Horsley flew slightly further.3 The Horsley became the standard medium day bomber and just one squadron was equipped with the Sidestrand.

  The 550-lb bomb load of the Horsley and the Sidestrand was relatively modest. This was partly because the day bomber was seen more as a harassing weapon, and the serious damage would be inflicted by the heavier night bombers. However, even British heavy bombers carried relatively low bomb loads by international standards. There was an over-estimation of how much destruction and intimidation small amounts of high explosive could achieve. It was much easier to rely on a single-engined bomber if the bomber only had to carry a small bomb load.

  The range of both machines was also relatively low by international standards. This was due to some rather muddled Air Ministry thinking. The government had set the Air Staff the task of ensuring the RAF could match the striking capability of any foreign power capable of launching an attack on Britain; the only country that could do this was France. Similarly, the
Admiralty had the task of matching the world’s most powerful Navy. The two ministries went about the task in completely different ways. The most powerful fleet in the world happened to be the US Navy and the Admiralty made sure the Royal Navy was as strong. That meant having the same number of warships with a similar capability—the Admiralty did not start preparing for war with the United States. Matching the French in the air should have meant matching the capability of their best heavy bombers, which included the excellent twin-engined Lioré et Olivier LeO 20 and the four-engined Lioré et Olivier LeO 206 and Farman 220. Instead, the Air Ministry started preparing for war with France. Fighter squadrons were drawn up in a line along the south coast to fend off French bombers and, instead of developing planes that could match the long-range strike capability of the French bomber fleet, designers were asked to develop short-range planes that could bomb Paris.