Bomber Command

by Martin Bowman

  Pilot Officer Robbie Robertson’s crew returned safely, as Geoffrey Willatt recalls:

  On the way home and well clear of the target, Robbie was taken short. He put the plane on automatic pilot and went back to the Elsan closet in the rear. Just as he’d lowered his trousers and sat down, there was a sudden fault in the automatic pilot, causing the nose to lift in an alarming way and bringing the ’plane near to stalling. The flight engineer disconnected it and the pilot ran forward, pulling up his trousers to take manual charge again. I was supposed to be the emergency pilot but he arrived back, thank goodness, before I had time to climb up from my position in the nose.

  On the night of 27/28 August when 674 heavy bombers14 took off for Nürnburg they were routed over London, as Geoffrey Willatt recalls:

  When civilian morale was low, we were routed on our raid directly over London, flying very low, presumably so that Londoners could say, ‘There go our brave boys to bomb hell out of Germany, in revenge for the carnage the Germans have caused to us.’ The London searchlights were switched on, blindingly lighting us up and at the same time destroying our night vision. The result was a completely blind crossing of the Channel and beyond, during which, we could see neither landmarks nor night fighters, so we could not take avoiding action. We were well into France before our night vision was restored.15

  Nürnburg was found to be free of cloud but it was very dark. The marking was to be mainly by 47 PFF H2S aircraft that were to check their equipment beforehand by the dropping of a 1,000lb bomb on Heilbronn. At the target the initial PFF markers were accurate but a creep-back quickly developed, which could not be stopped as only 28 aircraft were able to mark because so many Path Finder aircraft were having difficulties with their H2S sets. The Master Bomber could do little to persuade the Main Force to move their bombing forward as only a quarter of the crews could hear his broadcasts and it was estimated that most of the bombing fell in open country south-south-west of the city but bombs were scattered across the south-eastern and eastern suburbs. Thirty-six aircraft including eleven Stirlings, which represented a loss rate of 10.6 per cent, failed to return.

  On 30/31 August 660 heavies targeted the twin towns of Mönchengladbach and Rheydt; the first major attack on these cities since 11/12 August 1941. Unlike the two-phase operations of 1944–45, which would allow a two or three hour gap between waves, this was a two minute pause while the Path Finders transferred the marking from the former to the latter. The main force crews exploited accurate marking in what was the first major raid on these targets and over 2,300 buildings were destroyed. About half of the built-up area in each town was devastated. Twenty-five aircraft failed to return; 22 of which were shot down by Tame Boars. Six of the missing aircraft were Stirlings, over 100 of which made up the force. At Holme-on-Spalding Moor 76 Squadron lost three aircraft. One crashed on take-off, P-Peter crash-landed at Bradwell Bay in Essex and a third was shot down and crashed at Roermond. A 78 Squadron Halifax crashed near Wisbech and all the crew were killed. Pilot Officer James Bowman, who had ditched in the sea returning from Dortmund at the beginning of May, crash-landed at Pocklington on return to base. Two Wellingtons on 466 Squadron RAAF collided and crashed at Howden and Goole in Yorkshire killing everyone on board the two aircraft. V-Victor on 51 Squadron had a lucky escape when the pilot began his let down for landing at Snaith and at 4,000 feet, ten miles south-east of Ossington another aircraft on the port bow closing head-on and very fast hit their port wing. The collision swung the Halifax 60° off its previous heading and a violent vibration started in that wing. The collision also set off the destruction charges in the IFF and Gee sets, which caught fire and filled the interior with smoke. The top of the rear turret had been pushed in, momentarily stunning the gunner. The fuselage had gashes in it and the flight engineer reported that the port tail assembled appeared to be missing. When the pilot tried to reduce speed further the rudder suddenly locked to starboard, stalled and the starboard wing dropped, the Halifax going into a spiral. Incredibly, the pilot managed to regain control and returned the Halifax to its normal heading and landing back at base. The Halifax was repaired and put back into service only to be lost on the raid on Leipzig in December.16

  On the last night of August the Main Force assembled in a giant stream and headed for the ‘Big City’ once more.17 Of the 622 bombers detailed for the raid, over 100 aircraft were again Stirlings. One of the 3 Group stations at this time was Chedburgh, home to 620 Squadron’s Stirlings. John Martin, a flight engineer, had flown about 25 bombing operations and he was an old sweat by now:

  Everyone else had gone. Sergeant William Whitfield, the fellow who slept in the next bed to me, arrived. He was the flight engineer on another crew [captained by Pilot Officer Macquarie James Campbell RAAF]. They went to get briefed for their operation that night and when they came out we went in for ours. I asked ‘Taffy’ ‘What do you think of the operation tonight?’ He said to me, ‘With this crew, I have got no hope, no hope in this wide world getting through with this! They’re hopeless.’

  Nine Mosquitoes of 105 and 109 Squadrons route-marked for the heavies by dropping red TIs near Damvillers in north-east France and Green TIs near Luxembourg. The enemy used ‘fighter flares’ to decoy the bombers away from the target and there was some cloud in the target area. This, together with difficulties with H2S equipment and enemy action, all combined to cause the Path Finder markers to be dropped well south of the centre of the target area and the Main Force bombing to be even further back; bombs fell up to thirty miles back along the line of approach. The intensely bright white flares dropped in clusters of a dozen or more from about 20,000 feet at the corners of the target area and a double strip apparently dropped by rapidly moving aircraft around the perimeter of the area and igniting at about 17,000 feet lasted for several minutes and served to illuminate the bomber stream. About two-thirds of the fifty aircraft that were lost were shot down over Berlin by night fighters.

  Geoffrey Willatt on 106 Squadron recalls:

  Having released our bombs, we were told to come north out of the target towards Norway. We were climbing to a safe corridor above clouds which contained very severe icing – a very dangerous hazard. Many planes had been lost in such conditions, when all controls sometimes became frozen solid. Robbie, from time to time, called up each member of the crew on the intercom to find out whether all were fit and functioning properly. We wore oxygen masks throughout the entire trip, oxygen being switched on always at 10,000 feet. The devastating effects of oxygen loss had been demonstrated to us when in a practice chamber we sat playing cards, all wearing masks. Oxygen supply was switched off one person’s mask, unknown to him. He began to behave as if drunk, laughing and falling about and finally collapsing unconscious.

  To return to our flight out of Berlin: Robbie called us all up in turn but there was no answer from the rear gunner. Being the person least occupied at that time, I volunteered to go back to investigate. There were, apart from the main supply, small bottles of oxygen at various emergency points, which could be temporarily fixed to our masks. This supply would only last a few minutes, i.e. until the main supply could be reached for re-connection. I hooked up my mask with one of these bottles and stumbled back along the length of the plane to find the rear gunner lying unconscious over his guns with his mask off his face. Obviously, I had to drag him to connect up with the nearest connecting point. In trying to do this I tripped over something and accidentally ripped off my own mask and bottle. I remember standing there losing my senses and falling over backwards. Apparently, Robbie then sent the flight engineer back, who found us both lying side by side. Robbie then decided to dive down through the dangerous icy clouds to oxygen level, where masks were not needed. I regained consciousness, to hear the alarming crackling of ice on the wings just before we came out of cloud over the North Sea. We arrived safely back at Syerston.

  Twenty Halifaxes, ten Lancasters and 17 Stirlings were missing and one Stirling crash landed at RAF Coltishall on return
. The loss of 17 Stirlings was a staggering 16 per cent of the total losses! John Martin on 620 Squadron was in the astrodome of his Stirling when they got to Berlin and he had a very good view:

  I was able to read the registration on the side of P-Peter, Taff’s Stirling, going over ahead of me. It was like flying down Royal Avenue in Belfast; all the lights were on, everything was as clear as a bell. Once you started into Berlin, you never thought you were going to get to the other end of the city. It was so long. A fighter came up and right in front of me shot P-Peter down and that was the end of Big Taff Whitfield and four others on the crew. Two men survived and were captured.

  A Lancaster on 61 Squadron at Syerston piloted by Squadron Leader Dennis Crosby Wellburn DFC crashed near Bleasby, Notts after a collision with a 1654 CU Lancaster. The Canadian pilot from Vancouver in British Columbia and his crew were killed.

  Halifax P-Peter on 419 ‘Moose’ Squadron at Middleton St. George and an all-sergeant crew who were on their 16th operation was also involved in a collision, with a night fighter. Victor J A ‘Windy’ Wintzer RCAF the bomb aimer had just released the bombs and Bill Cameron RCAF the pilot was preparing to turn for home when it happened. The outer tip of the port wing had been sliced away and the port outer engine caught fire, which J T ‘Paddy’ Mullany the flight engineer extinguished but the propeller refused to feather. Finally, with the Halifax down to 5,000 feet, Cameron, who was from Sarnia, Ontario, gave the order to evacuate the aircraft. He and fellow Ontarian, George Ernest Percy ‘Ernie’ Birtch the diminutive navigator on the crew never made it and they died in the aircraft, so too ‘Windy’ Wintzer and ‘Paddy’ Mullany. Beverly Scharf the six foot mid-upper gunner, who also hailed from Sarnia, bailed out safely, as did Bert Boos the rear-gunner from Calgary. Les Duggan the WOp/AG and former roundsman for the Co-op who had turned 21 on the night of the Peenemünde raid also made it out but he not only lost over five of his 13 stones in PoW camp; his nerves too were shot to pieces.18 Two other Halifaxes on 419 also failed to return.

  A Lancaster on 106 Squadron crashed in Romney Marshes in Kent on return. One of the ten Lancasters that was missing was L-London on 97 Squadron at Bourn flown by Wing Commander Kenneth Holstead ‘Bobby’ Burns DFC* which exploded and crashed in the target area killing two of the crew. The American wing commander lost a hand and he and the four other members of his crew survived and they were taken into captivity. Burns was repatriated but after being fitted with a false hand, resumed his flying career.19 Next day, the MO examined Robbie Robinson’s crew and said that they would suffer no ill effects. Geoffrey Willatt recalls:

  Apart from a bump on my head and a headache, I was feeling normal. Apparently, one can be ‘out’ from oxygen loss for quite a long time before finally expiring. After getting some sleep, we went to Nottingham for an evening’s drinking to celebrate the completion of Dickie Fairweather’s tour of operations but we lost him for the rest of the evening. On our return to Syerston, he told us a barman had refused to serve him because he was black. With his usual sense of humour, he joked about it but we promised we’d beat up the pub in question the next time we were in town.

  Meanwhile, after this raid Goebbels ordered the evacuation from Berlin of all children and all adults not engaged in war work to country areas or to towns in Eastern Germany where air raids were not anticipated. Jack Furner recalls:

  On 1 September John Verrall’s crew was told by George Wright that we had finished our tour. I was still 21 years old and the other five were about the same. John Verrall got drunk for the very first time since I had met him back at Westcott. He touched not one drop of alcohol through the tour: when our tour-end was announced he made up for it all in one night. If he hadn’t been as prudent as he was, we might well have joined the dismal statistics. Crew discipline and meticulous planning were his watchwords. Regardless of expected fighter strength, he would always insist that I announce the crossing of the fighter belt: he would corkscrew vigorously throughout the width of the belt, regardless of sightings. I am quite convinced that this tactic, more than any other, got us through the Stirling tour. He was adamant about chit-chat on the intercom, immediately stifling any trivialities. He did the most remarkable things with the Stirling when caught in searchlights – I once looked out from my curtains and saw the source of a light ABOVE us. (The navigator had an important advantage over many of the other members of the crew. The pilot, the bomb aimer and the gunners were all peering into the dark and from time to time seeing our own people go down. The navigator was busy most of the time, thrashing figures around, writing up a log, his constant concern being ‘where am I, where am I going next and when am I going to get there? Not for him, for instance, the stark loneliness of squatting in a freezing turret searching the darkness for God knows what.)

  We said farewell to our comrades and to a newly arrived CO, Canadian Wing Commander Desmond McGlinn. Then we all went our different ways. I was posted to HQ 3 Group to carry out analysis of operational logs and charts with a view to recommending how best to achieve maximum concentration of effort. It was always the stragglers – the ones who had been using inaccurate winds – who bought it from fighter attack. Generally speaking, the more concentrated the bomber stream the less the losses. During the course of 1943 it became normal practice to signal back calculated wind speeds and directions in order to harmonise that all-important factor. In November that year, I learnt that both Johnny Verrall and I had been awarded DFCs. They were sent through the post with a nice little note from George VI: Buckingham Palace. I greatly regret that I am unable to give you personally the award, which you have so well earned. I now send it to you with my congratulations and my best wishes for your future happiness. George RI.

  On the night of 2/3 September 30 OTU Wellingtons and six Oboe Mosquitoes and five Lancasters of the Path Finders were dispatched to ammunition dumps in the Forêt de Mormal near Englefontaine in France, about 40 kilometres southeast of Valenciennes. Oboe Mosquitoes marked successfully and bomber crews dropped their bombs squarely on the dumps. The following evening six Oboe Mosquitoes carried out a similar operation in the Forêt de Raismes ten kilometres northwest of Valenciennes for thirty OTU Wellingtons and six Halifaxes.20 At Langar on 3 September Wynford Vaughan Thomas, a BBC Home Service commentator, and Reginald Pidsley, a sound engineer who would record his impressions on a one sided wax ‘78’ disc four miles high over Berlin, stood by to fly with Ken Letchford and his crew on 207 Squadron. Because of the high casualty rates among Halifax and Stirling aircraft in recent raids on the ‘Big City’, the raid would be made up entirely of 316 Lancasters. Earlier in the day crews carried out their usual NFTs (Night Flying Test) while for others it was an opportunity for an air firing exercise.

  On 156 Squadron at Warboys in Huntingdonshire 22-year-old Flying Officer Clifford Foderingham DFC RCAF an ex-Spitfire pilot, born in Toronto, lifted off in Lancaster U-Uncle and headed towards south Norfolk. He and his crew had flown on nine ops in the past six weeks. Foderingham’s father was from Georgetown, British Guyana and his mother was from Hartlepool. While on 101 Squadron at Stradishall he had ditched his Wellington III in the North Sea returning from the raid on Osnabrück on 17/18 August 1942 and he was awarded the DFC in November. Flying Officer Angus Stewart DFM the wireless operator, who was from Ontario, received his award for helping two of the injured in the ditching. Navigator Flying Officer William Gordon DFC suffered a leg injury in the ditching but he returned to action in January 1943. Before joining the RAF in 1938 Flight Lieutenant Kenneth Watkins the 28-yearold rear gunner from Westcliff-on-Sea had a varied peacetime career as a salesman and an actor. The 30-year-old bomb aimer Flight Sergeant Horace Ross was from Saskatchewan. Flying Officer Robert Hood DFM the 23-year-old Australian flight engineer from Sydney had been commissioned in December 1942. In April 1943 he had been awarded the DFC after completing 27 ops.

  At midday in the vicinity of Kenninghall U-Uncle could be seen circling around over the village church. To 14-year-old Brian Womack
it seemed that the aircraft was trying to miss the village. It was on fire and when it crashed at Green Farm nearby there was ‘just a big bang’. Young Brian wanted to see what was ‘up’ but his father would not let him. Young Jim Gooderham who lived at the family home at Dairy Farm, North Lopham, was doing some work for his father in the barn when he heard the explosion. He rushed out and saw a thick pall of smoke. His father was not there at the time so Jim hopped on his bicycle and set off towards the smoke. At the crash scene the devastated aircraft was spread over two fields; it was so unrecognizable that for many years he thought that it was a Blenheim. ‘There was nothing we could do for the crew’ he recalled. They had carried no parachutes aboard the aircraft for the exercise.

  That night four Mosquitoes dropped ‘spoof’ flares well away from the route to Berlin to decoy night fighters away from the bomber stream, which approached the city from the north-east. The real marking was mostly short of the target and the bombing that did reach the built up area fell in residential parts of Charlottenburg and Moabit and in the industrial area called Siemenstadt.21 Twenty-three Lancasters failed to return. S-Sugar on 97 Squadron piloted by Flying Officer Peter de Wesselow returned to Bourn without making an attack and jettisoned its bombs, but a TI exploded causing severe structural damage that resulted in Sugar being declared beyond repair. He cursed his luck, but at least no one was injured.22

  After a night of minor operations, on 5/6 September just over 600 crews were alerted for a double attack on Mannheim and Ludwigshafen. The aiming point was in the eastern half of Mannheim with an approach from the west. At Elvington Pilot Officer Frank Mathers CGM RAAF and crew on 77 Squadron were on the Battle Order and were set to fly Halifax K-King. Mathers’ CGM had been for his ‘exceptional skill, courage and fortitude in most harassing circumstances’ on the Mülheim raid two months’ earlier when Sergeant Ted French the wireless operator and Flight Sergeant Bill Speedie the rear gunner, who had displayed ‘conduct worthy of the highest praise’ had each received the DFM. They would fly the same positions on K-King. Flying Officer William Rhymer Simpson the air gunnery instructor would be doing the navigation on the trip while 18-year-old Guy Anthony Muffett would occupy the mid-upper turret.