by Greg Baughen
The problem was that the Polish squadrons were not seen as a way of expanding the Battle force, but a replacement for the existing British Battle squadrons as they converted to heavy bombers.46 There was therefore no rush about forming them. The latest two were manned by experienced personnel, many of whom had flown with the Polish and French air forces. They did not need much training, but they were told that they would have to wait until the existing Battle squadrons had re-equipped with Wellingtons and could pass their Battles on before they got anything to fight with.47 This remained the plan even though there were plenty available in store.
How effective this rapidly reconstituted Battle force might be in the Army support role remained to be seen. The Poles were dedicated to the anti-Nazi cause and would be a welcome reinforcement for any air force, but they had not flown Battles in combat nor had much opportunity to practise low-level or dive-bombing. Overall, No. 1 Group was a far less experienced tactical force than the AASF that had returned from France. It was not even clear to what extent it would be used for Army support if the invasion came. Portal, as always keen to boost his strategic bombing offensive, had managed to extract Bomber Command from its commitment to put half of its medium bomber squadrons under Army control. In an intriguing justification for this move, Sinclair, the Secretary of State for Air, argued that the Army might need the support of all the medium bomber squadrons in an invasion, not just half.48 Sinclair seemed to be suggesting that having control of half the force meant the other half was not allowed to support the Army.
On 7 September, Invasion Alert No. 1 was issued and all squadron personal on leave were recalled. Squadrons had to have planes standing by from an hour before dawn, ready to bomb and strafe an invasion fleet at sea and as the landing craft came ashore. After two months of indecisive toing and froing, the Battles were back on anti-invasion duties. As a reminder of how inadequate the available ground attack forces were, and how desperate the country was, all the Battle bases were warned to be ready to accommodate the Tiger Moth trainers that would be flying in from training schools to reinforce the assault.49
At least the scheme to use the Tiger Moths displayed some forethought and planning, not to mention a determination not to waste any resource, however meagre. This philosophy did not seem to stretch to the Battle squadrons. No. 305 Squadron, the fourth Polish Battle squadron, had formed on 29 August. Although many of its aircrew had combat experience with the Polish Air Force, they had spent the last two months kicking their heels, waiting to be given some planes to fly. Now they finally had the chance to join the fight, but all No. 305 Squadron had were two unarmed dual-control Battle trainers and one example of the operational version. The latter was not equipped for operations, and was only supposed to be used as a display model for teaching the Poles the names of the different parts of the aircraft in English. When the invasion alert sounded, the Poles hurriedly made their display Battle fully operational. The squadron’s pilots would have a single Battle with which to take on the invading German Army. Common sense now seemed to take over and on 14 and 15 September, fifteen Battles were rushed from stores to the squadron. The Poles finally had something to fly. Some hasty familiarisation followed and the squadron declared itself ready for operations on 22 September.50 After eleven weeks of inactivity, the Poles had got their squadron up and running in a week.
It was symptomatic of the Air Ministry failure to make best use of the Battle squadrons. By September 1940, No. 1 Group could have been a powerful battle-hardened force equipped with well-protected, well-equipped ground-attack bombers. However, in the two months that had passed since the squadron had retreated from France, nothing had been done to make the Battles any better prepared for daylight bombing. They still had no self-sealing tanks. They still had only a single machine gun for strafing. With Fighter Command struggling for survival, an escort was problematic, but the Battles still did not have the additional armour that might enable the pilots to brave the flak at a low altitude. Each dawn, No. 1 Group had twelve planes at 20 minutes’ readiness, bombed up and ready to strike the invading German forces, just as they had been on the eve of the German offensive in France, but they were no better prepared than they had been four months before. If the invasion had come, the Battle crews would once again have to fly in planes that, as the AASF HQ had pointed out four months earlier, lacked the protection, without which ‘the lives of crews and success of operations are needlessly jeopardized’.51 Even though it was now clear the invasion was coming along the south coast, the Battle squadrons remained in Lincolnshire, 200 miles from a possible German landing. It was scarcely the ideal location for a quick reaction force.
The build-up of invasion barges in the Channel ports forced the Battles back into the night bombing role. They could not match the bomb loads of the Whitleys, Wellingtons, and Hampdens and they would find it far more difficult to find their targets, but they had to do their bit. The Air Staff were anxious not to divert too many of their ‘heavies’ away from the hammering they believed they were inflicting on German industry. Any bombers that could not contribute to the strategic air offensive could at least reduce the need to use the heavies against the barges. With only four squadrons and with some of these planes on standby every night to strike an invasion fleet, the Battles could scarcely be expected to contribute much.
Attacking the Channel ports from Lincolnshire was going to be no easier than it had been a couple of months before. The Battles were ordered to give London a wide berth so that they did not run into the anti-aircraft and night fighter defences. Initially planes flew to the west of London to Odiham before heading east towards Dungeness. They then crossed the Channel to their targets, flew to the east of London to Orford Ness and then followed the coast round to their bases. It was a very long flight just to hit targets on the other side of the Channel. Operating from airfields further south would have involved more risk, as Nos. 12 and 142 Squadrons had discovered while they were with Coastal Command. Even so, in the three weeks they were based in the south-east, only one enemy raid had inflicted serious damage on the Battle squadrons when, on 2 September, five Battles had been damaged beyond repair.52 Even if this was unacceptable, it should have been possible to find reasonably safe airfields closer than Lincolnshire. The overland westward leg proved particularly challenging for the Battle crews and was soon dropped; it was much easier to follow the coast and fly to and from their targets via Orford Ness. The Admiralty helped by dropping their opposition to using the Orfordness Lighthouse to mark the route.
The offensive against the barges began on the night of 7–8 September. Nos. 142 and 150 were held back to deal with an invasion. Only Nos. 103 and 150 Squadrons were used initially but these also had had to have six planes on invasion alert from an hour before dawn. They had also been weakened by the recent transfer of five pilots to Fighter Command. On this first night of the so-called ‘Battle of the Barges’, twelve planes from these two squadrons bombed Calais harbour. All claimed to have found their target, dropping bombs from altitudes that ranged from 3,000 to 10,000 feet. The crews found that the searchlights and flak made accurate aiming difficult, but all twelve made it back, although two from No. 103 Squadron had to land at airfields short of their home base because they were running low on fuel.
There were no missions the following night, and only six sorties against Calais from the two squadrons on the evening of the 9th. Attention then focused on Boulogne, with three sorties from these two squadrons each night the weather allowed. The targets were only a maximum of fifty miles from the British coast, but these raids involved arduous four-hour missions from their bases in Lincolnshire. On the 14th, the two Polish squadrons (Nos. 300 and 301) dropped their first bombs, with both squadrons flying three sorties, and Nos. 12 and 142 Squadrons joined the offensive on the 17th.
When the weather was clear, high-level attacks, ranging from 10,000 to 14,000 feet, were preferred. Often the crews could not see the barges below, but they confidently reported that their bo
mbs must have hit them. No. 1 Group was not convinced. As in France, a successful mission was simply a plane returning without its bombs; there was not much belief that they were actually doing a great amount of damage.53 Cloud cover often forced the Battles to attack from lower altitudes, sometimes as low as 1,000 feet, which increased the dangers but also greatly improved the chances of hitting something. Ironically, when the weather was worst, the bombing was often more effective.
For the most part, however, results were disappointing. The raid on the night of 20–21 September was typical. Eighteen aircraft were ordered to attack Boulogne, six in the late hours of the 20th and twelve in the early hours of the 21st. One crew got completely lost and actually failed to leave the country. Two returned with their bombs because of technical faults. Five could not find the target—of these, two bombed the German batteries at Cap Gris Nez and one bombed Calais, but the other two could not find anything worth attacking and returned with their bombs. The remaining twelve dropped their bombs on Boulogne harbour. It was, in the words of the No. 1 Group operations record book, a ‘bad business’.54 In the first week, thirty sorties were flown; in the second, this rose to sixty-eight; and in the third, when it was already becoming clear the invasion had been called off, another fifty-six. The total of around 150 compares to approximately 550 sorties flown by Blenheims and some 700 flown by Wellingtons, Whitleys, and Hampdens.
By 20 September, the danger of an immediate invasion seemed to have passed and squadrons no longer had to have planes ready to take off with twenty minutes’ notice. The offensive against invasion barges continued until 26–27 September. On this final mission, seventeen Battles from Nos. 103, 150, and 300 Squadrons bombed Ostend. Fifteen found the target and bombed from altitudes ranging from 4,000 feet to 12,000 feet, while two aircraft from No. 150 squadron found weather conditions over Ostend poor and bombed Dunkirk instead. All the planes returned. The only casualty was a plane from No. 103 squadron that overshot the flare path and crashed into the airfield perimeter fence. With the moon on the wane, Breen decided not to risk any more Battles on night operations.55 The No. 1 Group’s summary of the campaign was not particularly upbeat.
Last night was, therefore, the last day of the best part of a month’s successful operations. Successful does not necessarily imply that a great deal of important damage had been done and in fact subsequent photographs have been very disappointing. The success of the operations lie in the fact that pilots and crews have gained experience…in aircraft incomparably more difficult to operate than the twin-engined aircraft with which they will be rearmed in the near future.56
Arguably, the Battle squadrons might have spent the time more usefully preparing to meet an invasion, but this was not on No. 1 Group’s agenda. Breen was not worrying about how well equipped the planes were or how well prepared their crews might be to deal with an invading German Army; his primary concern was how prepared his force was to play its part in the strategic bombing offensive against German industry.
On 27 September, all bombers were released from anti-invasion standby duties. Strangely, with the invasion fleet dispersing and the immediate danger passed, Battle squadrons began exercising with army units, and anti-invasion drills became a regular feature of squadron training. On 5 October, Battle squadrons were testing how quickly planes could be refuelled and bombed up for the repeat missions that the Battles would have to fly against an invasion. Battles continued to give troops some idea of what it was like to be attacked—on 1 October, Polish Battles delivered dummy attacks on the 44th Division as it practised crossing a river. However, it was not always just about getting troops used to air attack. On 7 October, Nos. 12 and 142 Squadrons were involved in exercises with the same division, this time attacking ‘enemy defences’ in support of the troops on the ground.57 Several squadrons were also practising dive-bombing and low-level attacks on small targets such as gun positions. It was not a wasted effort. It had to be assumed an invasion would come in 1941. Nevertheless, it was all rather late for a 1940 invasion. It was also a somewhat strange activity for squadrons about to convert to Wellingtons. Low-level attacks on individual gun positions would be quite impossible with such a large bomber.
On 9 October, with the moon returning, the Battles resumed their attacks on Channel ports. There was still the occasional invasion alert, so these missions were more than just general attempts to disrupt German shipping. Also, these same barges might still be part of a 1941 invasion, so it was an opportunity to destroy as many as possible before they were all withdrawn to safer waters inland. Battles flew some forty-eight sorties in this final phase of operations. The bombers generally set off soon after dusk, so the mission could be flown before the moon set. Boulogne, Calais, and Ostend were all targets. The final mission was on the evening of 16 October; an hour after sunset, six Battles from No. 301 Squadron set course for Boulogne. All the planes dropped their bombs on the target and all returned safely, the last one landing fifteen minutes after midnight.
By the end of October all the Battle squadrons had begun converting to Wellingtons.
Conclusion
It was ironic that it should be the Wellington that replaced the Battle. From the very beginning, both planes had been parallel developments, and both were designed to perform exactly the same role. The only difference was that the Battle was expected do this with one engine, while the Wellington could use two. The Fairey Battle was the Air Staff’s first choice—the Vickers Wellington was only ordered for comparison purposes. It was no more than a way of checking that the single-engined bomber was the right way to go.
In their final form, the mighty 18,000-lb Wellington and the streamlined 10,000-lb Fairey Battle scarcely looked like they were ever supposed to do the same job. Appearances aside, they both had a lot in common: both were excellent designs, and both far exceeded the requirements they were supposed to meet. They had approximately the same top speed and both won the respect of their crews for being reliable planes with no major vices. Initially their operational careers were also remarkably similar. Neither was capable of taking on and defeating enemy fighters and both suffered catastrophic losses in daylight missions.
They were both victims of flawed Air Staff thinking. The entire bombing strategy assumed that bombers could reach their targets without fighter support. Once the speed advantage that the Battle was supposed to have did not materialise, the Air Staff realised that they had a problem. Single-engined planes could not carry the defensive firepower required to fight off enemy fighters and this was enough for the Air Staff to declare the Battle obsolete. The early losses suffered by Battle squadrons seemed proof that the Air Staff had been right. What the Air Staff did not expect was that larger bombers with far more powerful defensive armament would prove just as vulnerable. It soon became clear that no matter how many guns it carried, the bomber could not defeat the fighter. It did not matter if the plane was a Fairey Battle or a Flying Fortress; if there was no fighter escort, heavy losses were inevitable. In the end, as a day bomber, the Wellington seemed to be as great a failure as the Battle.
From this point, the histories of the two planes followed very different paths. The Wellington could carry a heavier bomb load much further than the Battle, and had more space for a navigator and bomb aimer. The Battle was smaller, far more manoeuvrable, and capable of operating at low-level. The Wellington was the superior long-range bomber; the Battle was the better short-range tactical bomber. The problem for the Battle was that the Air Staff did not want tactical bombers.
Unlike the Battle, the Wellington’s failure in the day bombing role did not mean instant obsolescence. Instead, the Air Staff decided the Wellington could operate under cover of darkness. With far less enthusiasm, the Air Staff bowed to War Office pressure and allowed the Battle to become a tactical army-support bomber. The Air Staff were as confident that the Wellington would succeed as a long-range night bomber as they were sure that the Battle would fail in its army support role.
Although
the two designs were now following very different paths, there were still striking similarities in their stories. The Air Staff required both planes to perform roles they were not equipped to carry out, with crews who were not trained to perform them. The Wellington crews did not have the night-flying experience or navigational equipment to find their target and bomb accurately. The Battle crews did not have the experience, armament, or protection to fly daylight tactical missions.
It was not surprising that both planes encountered problems. The Wellington, however, had two very significant advantages. Firstly, the Air Ministry wanted its strategic bombing mission to succeed, and therefore the plane had priority with any improvements that might help. The second and more significant advantage was that no-one realised that the Wellington was failing. Crews claimed they were finding and hitting their targets under cover of darkness and the Air Staff were happy to believe them. It was what they wanted to believe. Only much later did it become clear that the vast majority of bombs dropped by the Wellingtons were missing their target by a very wide margin.
Preparing the Battle to support the Army by day did not have the same priority—indeed, it did not have any priority at all. The consequences were immediate and, for many aircrews, fatal. The Sedan operation on 14 May became the worst day in the RAF’s history. It was indisputably a disaster. However, instead of putting right the problems, the Air Staff used the heavy losses as incontrovertible proof that they had been right all along: the Battle was obsolete. Nor were they just right about the plane; they believed that the heavy losses also proved they were right about army air support being a misuse of the bomber. The Battles had achieved nothing during their costly Army support operations. It was what the Air Staff wanted to believe. Only strategic bombing would bring success.
