The Mosquitoes over Berlin did a grand job, by drawing off the enemy fighters. We in the first wave made good our escape but, once they [the night fighters] realized that Peenemünde was the target; they arrived in time to intercept the following groups. They pursued us along the Baltic and combats occurred right up to the North Sea. Due to the moonlight conditions they had a field day and forty-four bombers were lost, twelve of which I saw shot down.
Wilkie Wanless and the crew of their Halifax were in the first wave:
Before we had been bombing at 16,000 feet with the Halifax but Peenemünde was 4,000 feet. If you were shot down at 4,000 or 5,000 feet your chances of getting out were slim. It was the only low level I would ever be on and we were there before there were any markers. Our navigator had a movie camera to take pictures for the RAF Film unit. We kept flying back and forth over the target and the navigator kept saying, ‘I think the damn thing’s working now; do another run.’ This was just terribly nerve-wracking. The fighters had all been decoyed to Berlin, which was fine for the first wave or two but then the Germans caught on that it wasn’t Berlin and the fighters refuelled. The ones that had the range headed for Peenemünde. They shot down a lot of aircraft from the Canadian Group in the last wave.
Charles Cawthorne continues:
Approaching the target we could see the raid ahead progressing as the first and second wave aircraft bombed the red and green TIs laid down by the Path Finders and from our position at the rear of the bomber stream there appeared to be little enemy opposition with only moderate light flak and few searchlights. Over our VHF radio set we heard the calm voice of Group Captain Searby assuring the third wave crews that the raid was progressing in a satisfactory way and to standby for further orders. A few minutes later at 00.42 hours the Master Bomber ordered the Lancasters of 5 Group to commence their timed bombing runs from the designated starting point at the southern tip of the island. At this point during every bombing raid, aircraft became particularly vulnerable to flak or night fighter attack and on this occasion the seven mile bombing run seemed endless as we frantically searched the crowded sky for the enemy and to avoid a collision with a friendly aircraft. At last, our bomb aimer announced ‘Bombs gone’ and the aircraft wobbled as it was relieved of its heavy load. The Skipper held the same course until the aiming point photograph had been taken and then much to the relief of everyone on board turned back over the sea to start our journey home.
As we left the immediate target area we felt elated that our outward flight had been uneventful and we had made a successful bombing run but as we commenced our return journey we became aware of increased enemy activity in our vicinity as burning aircraft began to fallout of the sky at an alarming rate. It seemed as if the third wave of the bomber stream was being attacked by a huge armada of enemy night fighters who were taking full advantage of the bright moonlight conditions. Later, we found out that the German night fighters had been successfully lured away from the Peenemünde area by a diversionary raid on Berlin. However, once the German fighter controllers realised that this was not the main target, the night fighters were ordered to pursue the bombers over Peenemünde.
The German ground controllers were fooled into thinking the bombers were headed for Stettin and the ‘spoof’ by eight Mosquitoes of 139 Squadron led by Group Captain ‘Slosher’ Slee aiming for Berlin drew more fighters away from the Peenemünde force. However, 40 Lancasters, Halifaxes and Stirlings34 were shot down. In the wild mêlée over the target, Nachtjagd claimed 33 aircraft with total claims from the Peenemünde force amounting to 38 victories. One of the victors was Hauptmann Peter Spoden of 5./NJG5 who would become one of Germany’s leading Tame Boar pilots. He had trained for 27 months to be a fighter pilot and in his first attack on the night of the Hamburg raid, 27/28 July, he could not find anyone in his Bf 110 because of Window. Now it seemed that he might be frustrated again by the enemy’s clever spoofing tactics, as he recalls:
The British tricked us. There were 200 fighters over Berlin being held by six Mosquitoes. I was there. Then we saw that it was on fire in the north but it wasn’t Berlin. They had ordered us to stay in Berlin and it had started to burn in Peenemünde. We flew there very fast. I shot one down.35 At that particular moment you do not think about the other crew. You have to shoot between the two engines and we had been trained to do that. It was said, ‘Shoot between the two engines, it will go on fire and they will have a chance to bail out.’ So I shot between the two engines to give them a chance to bail out. When I shot somebody down I was so excited. I landed and went to the crash site and spoke to the only survivor [Sergeant W Sparks, bomb aimer]. I felt free, as if I had achieved what I had been trained to do. How can I explain how I felt? Like an avenger for Essen.36
A deadly new weapons system was introduced on this night. Two crews flying Bf 110s fitted with Schräge Musik (‘Oblique Music’)37 found the bomber stream and destroyed six bombers.
This device, invented by an armourer, Paul Mahle of II./NJG5, comprised two 20mm MG FF cannon mounted behind the rear cockpit bulkhead of the Bf 110 and Ju 88 night fighters and was arranged to fire forwards and upwards at an angle of between 70 and 80°. Unteroffizier Walter Hölker of 5./NJG5 shot down two bombers before his aircraft was hit by return fire from a Lancaster rear gunner who exploded some portable oxygen bottles. The German pilot was hit by three pieces of metal in the back of his head and about forty in the rest of his body. Leutnant Peter Erhardt destroyed four bombers. Towards midnight thirteen II./NJG1 crews took off from St-Trond for the Gruppe’s first Wild Boar operation of the war. They returned with claims for thirteen victories, mainly over Peenemünde, nine of which were consequently confirmed by the Reichsluftfahrtministerium (RLM or Reich Air Ministry). These included five Schräge Musik kills by Leutnant Dieter Musset and his Bordfunker Obergefreiter Helmut Hafner of the 5th Staffel, flying a Bf 110G-4,38, and which were their first (and last) victories of the war. Musset recalled:
From the Berlin area I observed enemy activity to the north. I promptly flew in that direction and positioned myself at a height of 14,000 feet over the enemy’s target. Against the glow of the burning target I saw from above numerous enemy aircraft flying over it in close formations of seven or eight. I went down and placed myself at 11,000 feet behind one enemy formation. I attacked one enemy with two bursts of fire from direct astern, registering good strikes on the port inner engine, which at once caught fire. The E/A tipped over to port and went down. Enemy counter-fire from rear gunner was ineffective. Owing to an immediate second engagement, I could only follow E/A’s descent on fire as far as a layer of mist. I then attacked a four-engined E/A at 8,500 feet from astern, range 30–40 yards. E/A at once burned brightly in both wings and fuselage. I observed it till it crashed in flames. At 01.50 I was already in position to attack another E/A from slightly above, starboard astern and range 60–70 yards. Strikes were seen in the starboard wing and E/A blew up. I observed burning fragments hit the ground at 01.52. Five minutes later I attacked another four-engined E/A at 6,000 feet from 100 yards astern. Heavy counter-fire from rear gunner scored hits in both wings of own aircraft. Burning brightly in both wings and fuselage E/A went into a vertical dive. After its crash I saw the wreckage burning. At 01.59 I was ready to attack again. E/A took strong evasive action by weaving. Enemy counter-fire was ineffective. While E/A was in a turn to port, I got in a burst from port astern and range 40–50 yards that set the port wing on fire. E/A plunged to the ground burning brightly and I observed the crash at 02.01.
A few minutes later I attacked another E/A that took violent evasive action by weaving. On the first attack my cannon went out of action owing to burst barrels. I then made three further attacks with machine guns and observed good strikes on starboard wing without setting it on fire. Owing to heavy counter-fire from rear gunner, I suffered hits in port engine. At the same time I came under attack from enemy aircraft on the starboard beam, which wounded my wireless operator in the left shoulder and set my port engine
on fire. I broke off the action, cut my port engine and flew westwards away from target area. No radio contact with the ground could be established. As I was constantly losing height, at 6,000 feet I gave the order to bail out. As I did so, I struck the tail unit with both legs, thereby breaking my right thigh and left shin-bone. After normal landings by parachute my Bordfunker and I were taken to the reserve military hospital at Güstrow.39
Sam Hall, a Path Finder navigator on 83 Squadron, recalled:
After we had bombed the mid-upper gunner said, ‘There’s a fighter coming in – it’s got a Lanc; it’s got another; it’s got another.’ Three Lancasters were going down in flames. You didn’t waste too much time thinking about it. So many things were going on – all sorts of lights in the sky and flashes on the ground. I knew the first Master Bomber on the raid. When he got back to Wyton he was still bathed in perspiration. He’d had to fly above the target for the whole extent of the raid.
One of the German pilots ordered off to intercept bombers on the return flight was Oberleutnant Hans Meissner, flying a Messerschmitt 110 of II./NJG3 at Schleswig. Shortly after 02.00 hours on the morning of the 18th he was directed to the area of radar station Ameise in south-eastern Denmark. Meissner recalled:
Unfortunately the R/T was so badly jammed that we could make no contact with Ameise and could get no information. Meanwhile we were at 2,500 metres as we approached the Apenrader Bight. My Bordschutze picked up several contacts on the Lichtenstein, which passed across the tubes very quickly, so at first we took it to be Window. As the contacts were below I went into a descent and picked up speed. At 02.54 hours I saw the first Lancaster at about 2,000 metres, flying directly in front of me on a westerly heading.’ [Meissner’s quarry was the 49 Squadron Lancaster at Fiskerton flown by Pilot Officer Thomas Edwin Tomlin DFC]. I closed in and opened fire from about 150 metres, somewhat to the right and 50 metres below. The No. 3 engine caught fire. As I broke away below him, return fire from the rear gunner passed to my left. From the beginning of the engagement both aircraft were illuminated from time to time by our own searchlights. The Lancaster pilot attempted to escape in a diving turn to the left, but as he did so he came into my sights and I was able to give him a short burst. He went down at 02.56 hours, crashing a few hundred yards from Ufer. [All seven crew were killed].
I immediately set off eastwards, obtained another contact from my radar operator, descended and saw a Lancaster [another 49 Squadron aircraft, which was piloted by Flying Officer Harry John Randall] flying directly above me on a westerly heading. I fired from more or less the same position, again at No. 3 engine. He went into a dive and crashed at 03.01 hours, on the shore of the Apenrader Bight. [All of the Lancaster crew were killed.] After that I headed north and my radar operator soon picked up yet another contact. I was able to make out the aircraft about 1,200 metres away. My first attack was the same as the others, from 150 metres range, a little to the right and 50 metres below. As the No. 3 engine caught fire we were held by a searchlight and in spite of the moonlight the effect was dazzling. The Lancaster pilot pulled his aircraft up (perhaps he was also dazzled, or maybe he wanted to reduce speed quickly so that I would overshoot or they could abandon). The enemy aircraft now filled my horizon; I pulled up to within 20 metres and with a few rounds set the No. 2 engine and the fuselage on fire. The aircraft broke up and crashed at 03.11 hours, two kilometres to the west of Ustrup. [Oil from the exploding bomber spattered the Messerschmitt’s canopy and Meissner was forced to break off the action.]
Leaving the target area John Searby’s Lancaster was at the tail end of the bomber stream heading back over the Baltic:
Our best chance of survival lay in losing our identity amongst them. After our last pass across the target we turned starboard instead of port and said farewell to the persevering gunners on the flak ships off the coast. We did not feel cocky, only thankful and if we could survive the attentions of the night fighters during the next hour or so all would be well. Alas, our hopes were short-lived for within a matter of minutes of leaving Peenemünde the battle was on again. ‘Rear gunner to captain; fighter attacking from astern and below,’ and I heard the rattle of the four machine guns in the same instant. Heaving on the controls violently, I brought the Lancaster in a sharp turn to starboard ‘nose down’, a manoeuvre which strained every rivet in her frame and red tracers streamed past without finding us. The fighter was attacking in a climb and the nose down attitude proved more effective than the turn, though the combination made the evasive action complete. ‘Captain to gunners; watch for him returning,’ and there was complete silence amongst the crew. Every man took a point of vantage from which he could observe the night sky. Classically, I expected the enemy to attack from the dark side, with the Lancaster silhouetted against the moon and the rear turret was watching this flank, the dorsal gunner taking the starboard side. Suddenly, ‘Mid-upper gunner to captain; fighter coming in starboard quarter down’ and the Lancaster heaved over in a smart turn towards the attacking fighter. Both turrets opened fire and I saw the enemy’s tracer bullets pass a little behind our tail. An excited shout from Flight Lieutenant Coley our mid-upper informed me that he had got in a burst and hit the fighter and we claimed this German as damaged since we did not see him crash. Certainly, this was no time in which to stay and look for him. We sped on into the night. The fires of Peenemünde made an impressive glow behind us as we left Stralsund on our right and lost height over the Baltic Sea. Any elation we may have felt over the apparent success of the operation was tempered by the knowledge that the German night fighters were taking a fearful toll of our returning bomber stream.
My crew were tired but for the next hour and a half unremitting vigilance would be needed. Fighter aircraft from all over northern Germany were concentrating on the Lancasters and Halifaxes and in the bright moonlight, conditions were perfect for interception. By flying at a low altitude over the sea we might hope to escape attention for a while, since the majority of the combats we witnessed were taking place around 8,000 to 10,000 feet. The chief danger for us lay in the distribution of light flak guns along the coast and on the many small islands in the Little Belt.
‘Mid-upper to captain . . . Lancaster on fire to port.’ I looked to the left of the aircraft and watched a small point of bright light grow rapidly until the aircraft was entirely visible – illuminated by its own burning fuselage. The fighter struck again and his tracer bullets ploughed through the flaming mass, which quickly broke apart and plunged into the sea below. In a moment or two we observed another bomber shot down a few miles ahead of us and this one exploded in mid-air. Combats took place the whole way across the sea to the Danish mainland, where the leading wave of the bomber stream was now located.
‘Crossing the coast Skipper,’ from the bomb aimer and immediately one felt relieved. How many times had one heard this simple but significant phrase; the feeling of escape from danger and things which go bang in the night? Ahead of us the bomber stream wound its way home; we were certainly the last. Sharp eyes continued to search the sky and the surface below. A convoy of German ships making its way down the coast could strike us down in a moment at the low height we were flying. The full moon cast cloud shadows on the sea below – our faithful Rolls Merlins drummed on a fine even note as we continued our course to the west. I eased my straps a little to take some of the ache away. I felt grubby and the rubber lining of my face mask was sticky against my cheeks, the familiar stench of the aircraft – oil, body odours and the strange indefinable smell given off by the heated radar and electrical equipment – all combined to make one think of getting clean again. I thought about the gunners, Coley and Preece, cramped in their turrets, staring into the dark hour after hour, hands always on the gun controls, flung madly against their straps when the aircraft took evasive action. ‘Captain to mid-upper, can you see anything?’
‘Mid-upper to captain; all quiet.’
‘Rear gunner to captain: nothing to report.’
Nothing to re
port and the likelihood of interception was decreasing every second as we flew towards England.
Flight Lieutenant Tony Weber again:
Between the engineer and the navigator a calculation was made of our fuel needs and it was soon realised that with our reserves we were not going to make it back if we did follow the briefed route over the North Sea. It was to risk a straight line run home on our own, or not being able to make it at all. We were to be on our own again from deep in Germany, in an aircraft which seemed to be fitted with a built-in headwind. It was essential to fly at our most economical speed and motor setting in case we were to be intercepted again. I reduced the revs to the lowest setting, which was 1,800 rpm and set the supercharger into low gear and used whatever boost was available at the altitude. Trading altitude for distance flown and holding our speed at 180 knots, we were losing height rapidly and passed between Hamburg and Bremen at 1,000 feet. Taking advantage of the moonlight we relied on George Sweeney, our bomb aimer, to map read for us at low level to avoid built-up areas. We looked on George as an old man – he was 31 years old. We were able to fly below the range of the German radar and fortunately, had not been detected on our descent.
One big danger lay ahead of us and that was the heavily fortified Dutch coast. We made a run for it just north of the Isle of Texel at almost zero feet. Not a shot was fired at us on this return journey. Gransden Lodge, our home base, was reached with all fuel tank indicators in the red. Don Bennett was back at our station for the debriefing. As usual we were the first back but this time not because of a faster aircraft; rather from having taken a short cut home. Bennett was keen to hear at first hand our report of the raid. I was annoyed that he questioned me about my trimming of the aircraft and he was annoyed about the high fuel consumption and ordered an enquiry. Had I perhaps left some flap down? D-Donald was tested and found to be way out of trim, hence the heavy going. I was exonerated.
Bomber Command Page 9
