Bomber Command

by Martin Bowman

  The bulk of the Turin force was made up of just over 100 Stirlings. Flight Lieutenant Robert Megginson’s crew on XV Squadron, accompanied by Air Commodore H Kirkpatrick from 3 Group HQ, who had decided to go along for experience, were in one of them, as Sergeant Graham ‘Mick’ Cullen the wireless operator recalls:

  Crossing the South of France, we began to experience trouble with the engines which had started to heat up. Climbing to gain more height to cross the Alps, one of the engines deteriorated to the extent that it seized up completely. It was impossible to maintain height so we meandered our way through the mountains, watching carefully in the light of the full moon for the peaks that towered above us. Having safely negotiated the Alps we finally arrived over the target area, which in our case was a small factory. However, due to low cloud we could not locate the building and so attacked the main target. Owing to our engine problems we bombed at a lower level than the other crews. We unloaded our cargo and left the area as quickly as possible.

  Flight Lieutenant Tony Weber continues:

  The Fiat factory was duly marked and our return was uneventful until we reached Bayeaux at 13,000 feet. Here we were hit by predicted flak from a large battery of guns. A shell hit our port inner motor, shattering the propeller boss. A prop blade came crashing through the fuselage, taking with it the engineer’s panel. We still had an hour’s run to base and now with no knowledge of our fuel load in the event of the fuel tanks having been holed, we made for our nearest airfield which was Beaulieu, where we requested an emergency landing. Poor old LQ-X was not handling well. Unknown to us our port tyre was punctured and as we landed we slewed off the runway, folding up the undercarriage which, in turn, caused the ’drome to be closed until our wreck had been dragged away. We were not at all popular at Beaulieu.

  Sergeant ‘Mick’ Cullen on Flight Lieutenant Megginson’s crew continues:

  The Skipper debated with the rest of the crew as to whether we should carry on and land in North Africa for repairs but it was decided to try and get our VIP passenger back to Mildenhall. Once again we successfully negotiated the valleys through the Alps but this caused a strain on the already overheated engines. As we crossed out over France, a second engine had to be stopped. We were now in an emergency situation. We decided to forget Mildenhall and land at the first available airfield which turned out to be Tangmere on the south coast. Unfortunately, fog had closed our bomber bases in East Anglia and all aircraft were diverted to fighter airfields along the same coastline. As we were preparing to land an aircraft with a strange call sign came on the air requesting priority for an emergency landing, saying he had only two motors going. The runway was cleared and a rather old and battered Stirling bomber with, of course, only two engines going, touched down. Our situation was now critical and as Megginson put O-Orange on the runway another engine seized completely. An inspection the following day revealed that two of the engines had completely melted the pistons to the block. We had a couple of days’ unexpected holiday while Mildenhall flew down two new engines together with our ground crew to fit them. We then all returned to base aboard BK818.

  Mick Cullen was looking forward to getting back to Mildenhall but his welcome was a cold one. Being young and not very thoughtful he had, in the excitement of the situation, neglected to notify his fiancée Brenda that he was all right. Brenda Jaggard, a local girl from Beck Row, was originally a waitress at the ‘Bird In The Hand’ at Mildenhall. Later she became a barmaid. A friendship grew between Brenda and her New Zealand sergeant, which came to the attention of George Ashley, the landlord of the ‘Bird’. In due time he began to allow Mick Cullen and the crew a little credit when they were short of funds.

  By early August Warrant Officer Warren ‘Pluto’ Wilson’s crew on 467 Squadron RAAF had completed 24 operational sorties since arriving at Bottesford on 10 March and the crew were known as one of the old sweats on the Squadron. Together with other experienced crews, they were taken off routine bombing trips and became engaged in special low level time and distance bombing practice over the Wainfleet bombing range near Skegness. At first they thought it strange that it was the most experienced crews who were degraded in this way but as the results were being scrutinised by senior staff from Group Headquarters, headed by the Air Officer Commanding (AOC) AVM the Honourable Sir Ralph Cochrane KBE CB AFC, they soon realised that there was some hidden purpose behind this special training.

  Born in 1895 as the youngest son of the 1st Baron Cochrane of Cults, Cochrane had joined the Royal Navy in 1912 before transferring to the RAF in 1918. He had served extensively in the Middle East during the early 1920s, being mentioned in despatches for operations in Kurdistan in 1923. His CO was Squadron Leader Arthur T Harris AFC, while his fellow flight commander was Robert Saundby. A few days later Cochrane visited Bottesford and told the selected aircrews that they must do better and reduce the number of bombing errors. At this stage they had no idea what was going on but there were rumours circulating around the camp that they might be going to attack the German dams again27 or maybe the Dortmund-Ems Canal.

  At Wyton on 16 August, together with his crew, Group Captain John Searby studied a model of the target together with Don Bennett and his staff. ‘This model, beautifully constructed,’ recalls the CO of 83 Squadron, ‘was the result of taking photographs from our reconnaissance aircraft some time earlier. We endeavoured to memorize certain features, which lay near the three aiming points and discussed with Bennett the essential features. We did not know any more than that this was an experimental station.’

  In fact the Allies had been acquiring evidence that Peenemünde was the site of advanced weapon research, especially rocket technology and by late June 1943 the War Cabinet had scheduled Peenemünde as a high priority target for Bomber Command. ‘Bomber’ Harris had requested a delay until the longer nights of late summer would make his aircraft less vulnerable. A force of 596 heavies, including for the first time, Lancasters of 6 (Canadian) Group, would be dispatched. Fifty-four Stirlings of 3 Group would also make the trip. One of these was Z-Zebra on 214 Squadron at Chedburgh flown by John Verrall. His navigator, Pilot Officer Jack Furner recalls:

  Peenemünde was to be our last but two, although we didn’t know that at the time. We were certainly reaching the slightly twitchy stage in the 20s. The briefing was highly unusual. Not a major city with an aiming point somewhere in the centre designed to take out as much industry as possible but a strange place on the Baltic coast which none of us had ever heard of. ‘It’s a secret place where new experimental equipments are being developed’, the briefers said. There were a number of discrete aiming points (another unusual feature): ours was a particular part of the Experimental Establishment and other Group(s) would be targeting the actual living quarters of the scientists involved. We were to go in over the target at a much lower level than usual – at about 8,000 feet. And there was moonlight. ‘But there are only light flak defences’ the briefers said. The route looked nice – a quick dash across Denmark, through the Baltic and turn on to the target from a headland to the north of it, just a few miles from coast. A snip, we thought.

  At the briefing at Wyton the Pathfinder crews were told that if they did not knock out this important target that night it would be laid on again the next night and every night until the job was done. John Searby recalled:

  To return to a target on successive nights might mean stiffer defences and heavier casualties. Once the element of surprise was gone no one could say how much effort and how many lives might be required to take out Peenemünde . . . Having shown our hands with a first abortive attempt, the Nazis would take steps to move out much vital equipment together with the scientists and technicians. In short, the moment would have passed and might never occur again.

  From the low dais in front of the large map of Europe with its coloured tapes and pins, which marked the heavily defended areas of occupied territory, I watched the faces of my crews. They were impressed by the urgency but not worried, for the job would be
done to the best of their ability. I caught the eye of Brian Slade, veteran Pathfinder captain at 21 years of age and he grinned; he was all for it. Against the background of Essen, Berlin, Hamburg, Munich, Cologne and similar bloodbaths Peenemünde did not, at this stage, make much impression. In fact, the reactions of the crews were one of relief at the prospect of a sortie to northern Germany. The only real hazard lay in the long penetration under conditions of full moonlight with the possible increased fighter activity. No one had heard of this insignificant pimple sticking out of Pomerania and there was nothing humdrum about the operation; hence Brian’s smile. Alas, he would be lost over the ‘Big City’ in five short days.28

  The plan for the night’s operations was well-conceived and in the course of the briefing I acquainted the crews with the fact that Mosquitoes of 139 Squadron would make a ‘spoof’ attack on Berlin with the object of holding the German night fighters in that region, or at least a proportion of them. By the time the ruse was discovered many fighters would require refuelling before proceeding to the scene of the actual attack. Clearly we could not hope for this plan to do more than delay the opposition but if it worked long enough to enable the Pathfinders and following waves of heavy bombers to make an effective start on the destruction of the target much would have been accomplished. The full moon was at once a friend and an enemy. It would help the bombers initially but on balance it would serve the cause of the German night fighters even more: with so much light there would be scope for the freelance or ‘catseye’ fighter and this would greatly increase the strength of the opposition.

  Flight Lieutenant Tony Weber’s crew had just returned to Gransden Lodge after putting down at Beaulieu following the exhausting raid over the Alps to the Fiat Works on 16/17 August when to their dismay they were confronted with the news that they were on ops again that night:

  It was after lunch before a lift was arranged to get us back to base. We were dead tired, not having seen a bed for 36 hours. My crew and I were able to snatch a couple of hours’ sleep before the briefing. Little did we know that we were in for another eight hour trip again that very night. The mood of the crews at briefing that afternoon was far from good. Had they all gone mad at Air Ministry? Didn’t they know how tired we all were, especially our crew who had been shot up and crash-landed away from base? The MO’s solution was to dish out extra doses of caffeine tablets for those who needed them. The briefing was given by our AOC, Don Bennett. He explained the urgency and importance of the mission. How Hitler’s men were developing a sinister weapon at Peenemünde and production details would be ready for delivery to the contractors soon. Group Captain Searby was to be the Master Bomber of the raid and would be in contact with all of us over our radio telephones.

  After briefing, my crew had hot baths and a good meal, after which, we were feeling better again and ready for take-off. D-Donald was to be our replacement aircraft. On their own initiative our faithful ground crew had cut out a downward viewing hole for the mid upper gunner and had fitted this new station with intercom, oxygen and hold down straps and a plug for his heated suit. They well knew that I would be at a loss without our blind spot being covered. They had even found time to fit the navigator and wireless operator with lap straps. These straps were necessary since my defence against a fighter taking aim at us from below (which was where all attacks came from at this stage) involved negative gravity, by diving straight down at him and praying that he would take the necessary evasive action in time to avoid a collision. This was the only defence I had from such an attack and it gave the fighter pilot no time to fire his cannons if he was to avoid a collision. I had used this method of defence on several occasions and had never known a Jerry to come back for a second dose. However, the first time I used it, it was a disaster for my navigator who finished up on the roof with all his charts, etc, lost.

  Flying Officer Bill Day’s Stirling crew on 90 Squadron at Tuddenham had also flown on the operation to the Fiat Works and they too were ready for a few days’ rest but their Flight Commander, Squadron Leader Freeman told them, ‘Sorry to tell you lads but you are ON tonight; it’s another maximum effort. Grab a bite to eat and report for briefing in just over an hour’s time – you will see all the details on the notice board.’

  Sergeant William Alexander Wilkie Wanless RCAF, a Halifax rear gunner on 76 Squadron at Holme-on-Spalding Moor, recalls:

  This was the only briefing I ever went to when the briefing hut was surrounded by Service Police. We had to go to the door with the crew and show our identification with our pilot. We were told that if a word leaked out about the target we wouldn’t go that night and the source would be summarily executed. So we paid attention; we said that this had got to be a ‘biggie’. We were also told that if we didn’t get it that night we would be going back every night; tonight they didn’t expect you but from then on they will expect you but you will still have to go back.

  Sergeant Ron James, Bill Day’s mid-upper gunner, adds:

  From all the activity that was going on around us we knew that this was something out of the ordinary: an Air Commodore from 3 Group HQ, SPs guarding the approaches to the Briefing Room and the ‘erks’ [ground crew] scurrying around like blue-arsed flies – what had they cooked up for us this time? As the wall map was exposed a gasp went up – Berlin? No, someplace on the Baltic – but there is no town there! The Group Captain got to his feet and began. ‘I realize after yesterday how tired you must be but tonight’s target must be totally destroyed. The Germans have a factory here,’ pointing to the map, ‘that is producing night fighter equipment, which is so sophisticated that if it is put into general use we could lose the air war. It is so important that not only we are going to bomb it to extinction but we are going to get the scientists too. And that will be your job. Our Group will go in first, flying much lower than usual and carrying armour piercing bombs. You bomb aimers will be given detailed maps of the living quarters that have to be attacked. PFF will mark the target as normal but in this case a master bomber is to be used on a German target for the first time. He will talk you through the raid on an open frequency so there should be no slip ups. If any crew does not feel up to the task after a sleepless night I quite understand and they can see me after briefing but I have to warn you that if this target is not obliterated tonight, you will have to go again tomorrow and every succeeding night until the job is done – I know that I can rely on you and that you will not let me down. Good luck to you all!’

  Of course no crew bothered to see the Groupie afterwards. The briefing continued, with the Intelligence Officer telling us that only twelve light calibre AA guns protected the site and, as we would be operating in full moonlight, the target would be easily discernible. Someone asked. ‘What is the name of this place we are going to?’ He replied – ‘Peenemünde’.29

  Sergeant Charles Cawthorne on Warren ‘Pluto’ Wilson’s crew on 467 Squadron RAAF at Bottesford, wrote:

  On 17 August, all speculation ended when we were detailed to attend the pre-operation briefing and it immediately became apparent that something very special had been planned. Security around the operations block was unusually severe with RAF Police in far greater numbers than usual. There was a great buzz of speculation amongst the crews as we entered the large briefing room. The assembled crews were brought to attention as the station’s senior officers entered the room accompanied by a very senior officer from Group Headquarters. The curtain over the map of western Europe was pulled back to reveal red route marker tapes leading to a small target called Peenemünde on the German Baltic coast sited between Rostock and Stettin. I wondered what all the fuss was about because we had never heard of this little place called Peenemünde and the Squadron had attacked both Rostock and Stettin quite recently.

  Pilot Officer Frank Dixon RAAF was the only Australian on the otherwise all-sergeant crew on JA901 N-Nuts, better known on the Squadron as Nuts To The Nazis. Many Aussies, and Dixon was no exception, did not like the way promotion was decided. As Dix
on saw it, the system did not favour ‘the son of a labouring man from the bush . . . but again later in the war we might have confounded them on that one.’ Dixon’s navigator was E W Dickson, an Englishman. Both men had had ‘a good look at each other’ on parade at Litchfield when Dixon thought that he heard his name called, but it was the navigator with the same name and different spelling. They later introduced themselves and ‘crewed up’. Dixon would often go either to Dickson’s home or the navigator’s aunt’s ‘little country pub’ in Oxfordshire where they could ‘kick up their heels’. Now Peenemünde beckoned. When Dixon had flown his ‘second dickey trip’ on another Baltic target, at Stettin, he ‘had just thought that there was no way you could possibly fly an aeroplane through all that stuff that you could see bursting out there.’ And it had seemed that ‘there was no way in all the darkness that the best navigator in the world was ever going to find the target.’30

  Charles Cawthorne continues:

  The briefing was opened with a statement from the visiting officer from Group. He said. ‘Peenemünde is a German military research establishment whose scientists are working on new Radio Detection Finding (RDF) equipment as a countermeasure against our night bombers and therefore is a very important target that has to be destroyed at all costs. That is why the operation has been planned to take place in full moon flying conditions and must be carried out at low level. It is imperative that this target is destroyed and I must warn you that if you are unsuccessful tonight, then the Squadron will have to return tomorrow night and on successive nights until complete destruction is achieved’. It was only later when the V-2 rockets started to fall on London in September 1944 that we in Bomber Command and the general public learned the true purpose of this raid i.e. the destruction of the secret V-2 rocket research and production facility.