New Zealanders with the Royal Air Force
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2004714391Official History of New Zealand in the
Second World War 1939–45Illustrations have been included from the original
source.New Zealanders with the Royal Air Force
(Vol. II)Thompson, Wing Commander H. L.War History Branch, Department Of Internal
AffairsWellington, New Zealand1956Source copy consulted: Defence Force
Library, New ZealandOfficial History of New Zealand in the Second World War 1939–45
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NZETC Subject Headings1956EnglishNew Zealand World War II Historynonfictionprosemasculine/feminineNew Zealand/ History/ WWIIRoyal Air Force15 November 2004Colin DoigAdded name tags around various names of people, places, and organisations.31 August 2004Jamie NorrishAdded link markup for project in TEI header.2 August 2004Jamie NorrishAdded funding details to header.26 July 2004Jamie NorrishAdded missing text on page vi.3 June 2004Jamie NorrishAdded full TEI header.April 2004Virginia GowAdded figure descriptions.21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCText-proofing of a sample of the text21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCConversion to TEI.2-conformat markup21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAdding scripted markup21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAddition of encodingDesc21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAddition of bibls21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAssembled all images21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCCreation of derivative images21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCValidation of TEI21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCValidation of names21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCConversion to Unicode (utf-8)21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCPromotion to production21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAddition of text to access control21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCHarvest into Topic Map21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCChecking of text using browser21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAddition of text to corpus21:18:52, Tuesday 7 August 2007NZETCAddition of text to Library Catalogue14:50:01, Tuesday 23 September 2008NZETCMake text available on NZETC website16:19:10, Friday 28 August 2009NZETCPreparation of EPUB (and other formats such as DaisyBook)14:04:06, Wedsnesday 4 August 2010NZETCIndex the text into SOLR to allow searching
Per ardua ad astra
Official History of New Zealand
in the Second World War
1939–45The authors of the volumes in this series of histories prepared under
the supervision of the War History Branch of the Department of
Internal Affairs have been given full access to official documents. They
and the Editor-in-Chief are responsible for the statements made and
the views expressed by them.By AuthorityR. E. Owen, Government Printer, Wellington, New Zealand1956
New Zealanders with theRoyal Air ForceVolume II: EUROPEAN THEATRE
January 1943–May 1945Wing Commander H. L. THOMPSONWAR HISTORY BRANCH
DEPARTMENT OF INTERNAL AFFAIRSWELLINGTON, NEW ZEALAND1956Distributed bywhitcombe & tombs ltd.Christchurch, New Zealand
Geoffrey Cumberlegeoxford university pressLondon
Preface
This volume, the second of three recording the services of New
Zealand airmen who flew and fought with the Royal Air
Force, completes the history of the European theatre of operations.
It covers those later years during which the battle for air supremacy
was finally won and in which Allied air power was able to play
such an important part in the victories on land and at sea. It is,
therefore, largely a story of achievement and success, but one hopes
the reader will note what the mounting air offensive cost in young
lives, especially in Bomber Command, and then ponder the words
of Sir Arthur Harris which are recorded at the end of Chapter 14.
As in the first volume, the activities of both the Dominion
squadrons and airmen are recorded against a background of the
air war; for without this background the narrative would lack
perspective and appear rather as a series of unrelated, and at times
repetitive, episodes. It has been far from easy to hold the balance.
Moreover, the scale of air operations was so vast and the number
of men involved so large that selection and summary have been
inevitable. One would like to have included many more names and
exploits and also to have discussed certain aspects of the air war
more fully. But while this is an official record in which detail may
rightly be expected, one felt it should also be made as readable
and interesting as possible by including some impression at least of
the life and work of all those whose battlefield was the ‘blue dome
of the sky’.
The documents and other sources of information on which the
history is based have already been described in the Introduction to
Volume I. I wish again, however, to record my appreciation of the
very great help received from many officers of Air Ministry, London,
and especially from Mr J. C. Nerney and his staff of the Historical
Branch. My thanks are also due to Flight Lieutenants B. G. Clare
and N. W. Faircloth for their research on Bomber and Fighter
Commands, and to Sergeant S. W. R. Holmes for his valuable assistance in many directions, including preparation of the biographical
notes. I should like to add a particular word of thanks to the many
men who have answered our requests for information and also to
those who have read and commented upon the text.
H. L. Thompson
London,August 1954
ERRATUM
Page 196, line 3, for They read White. Rae only was taken prisoner.
Contents
PagePREFACEviiCHAPTER 1INTRODUCTION1Strategic situation at opening of fourth year of war –
Growing Allied power in the air – Success of Commonwealth
Air Training Plans – New Zealand contribution to increasing
RAF strength – Outstanding leaders and personalities – The
task ahead.CHAPTER 2AIRCRAFT AGAINST U-BOAT15Most critical period in the Battle of the Atlantic – Uncertainty about counter-measures – The renewed bombing
of U-boat building, ports, and bases – No. 75 Squadron's part.
Air patrols in the North Atlantic – New Zealanders fly with
Coastal Command from Iceland and United Kingdom – Victory
in the North Atlantic – Patrol and attack in Bay of Biscay –
Changing German tactics – Success of this air campaign –
Patrols from Gibraltar and West Africa – No. 490 Squadron's
work – Doenitz threatens new type of U-boat war.CHAPTER 3BOMBER COMMAND AND THE BATTLE OF THE RUHR40Bomber Command's campaign against Germany during
earlier years – Allied strategy for 1943 – Stronger British force
now available – Harris in command – Prominent New
Zealanders and the part of No. 75 Squadron – Advent of new
technical aids – The sustained assault on the Ruhr, March – June
1943 – Some exploits and experiences – Attacks on other German towns – The Dam raids – Some difficulties in the development of the combined bombing offensive.CHAPTER 4LONGER-RANGE ATTACKS83The Battle of Hamburg – Bomber Command's inability to
repeat this success – Raids against Italy – Deeper into Germany – Attacks on enemy aircraft industry – New Zealanders
and the work of No. 75 Squadron – German counter-measures
to heavier RAF raids – The Battle of Berlin – Renewed attacks
on German aircraft industry – The Allied bombing achievement by March 1944.CHAPTER 5WITH MINE, BOMB, AND TORPEDO114Growth of the air assault on German sea communications in
North-West Europe – Minelaying by Bomber Command
during 1943 – The increasing German defences – Development
of high-level minelaying – Major effort by No. 75 (NZ)
Squadron – New Zealanders with other bomber squadrons.
Coastal Command's attacks on ships at sea – The work of
No. 489 (NZ) Squadron – New Zealanders with other squadrons – Development of Beaufighter Strike Wings – Some
typical attacks – Formation of Anzac Strike Wing and the part
of No. 489 Squadron.CHAPTER 6DAYLIGHT RAIDS BY THE LIGHT BOMBERS137Development of RAF daylight raids – New Zealanders with
No. 2 Bomber Group – The part of No. 487 Squadron – A
memorable mission to Amsterdam – Mosquito crews and their
work – Some notable attacks – Reorganisation – Bombing raids
during latter half of 1943 – The opening attacks on flying-bomb sites – No. 487 Squadron and the raid on Amiens prison.CHAPTER 7DAY-FIGHTERS AND FIGHTER-BOMBERS169The British fighter force at the beginning of 1943 – Its
changing role – Two fighter support missions – New Zealand
wing leaders – Exploits of Jameson, Deere, and Compton –
Other prominent personalities – No. 485 Spitfire Squadron –
An active period at Biggin Hill – Some typical missions –
Checketts' escape from France – No. 485's work under Hume –
No. 486 Typhoon Squadron and the interception of coastal
raiders – Change to offensive patrols under Scott – An interesting air-sea rescue mission.
Fighter operations during early months of 1944.CHAPTER 8NIGHT FIGHTERS210Decline of the Luftwaffe's night-bomber force – Hitler's
demands for reprisals – Renewed German effort during 1943 –
The British night-fighter force, its equipment and technique –
New Zealanders with this force – Their part in both defence
and ‘intruder’ patrols – The work of No. 488 Mosquito
Squadron – The ‘Baby Blitz’ against Britain and its failure –
Decline of the German Air Force and its effect on Allied
preparations for invasion.CHAPTER 9PRELUDE TO INVASION234Maturing plans – Reorganisation of the Allied air forces –
Coningham in charge of Second Tactical Air Force – Other
New Zealanders holding senior posts – The pre-invasion air
campaign – Bomber Command's attacks on transport and the
German aircraft industry – Fighter and fighter-bomber assault
on V-weapon sites and transport – The part of the New
Zealand squadrons – Typical missions and some individual
exploits – Air operations at sea against enemy ships and
U-boats – The eve of the landings.CHAPTER 10NORMANDY282The landings succeed – Strong Allied air support – Weak
Luftwaffe reaction – Enemy uncertainty – Covering the
advance inland – Highly effective attacks on communications –
Crisis in the Allied build-up – Progress of the land battle – The
supporting air operations.
New Zealanders play their part with Second Tactical Air
Force – Achievements of New Zealand squadrons – Attacking
enemy ships and U-boats – With Bomber Command in close
support, bombing, and minelaying – No. 75 Squadron's varied
operations – Allied air power is decisive.CHAPTER 11FLYING BOMBS AND ROCKETS318German plans are upset – Eventual opening and development of the attack – Its relative failure – Allied counter-measures to the V-1 – The fighter patrols – Their difficulties and
achievements – Notable part played by No. 486 Squadron –
New Zealand pilots with RAF units – Bombing the launching
sites and supply depots – Raids by No. 75 Squadron – The
campaign against the V-2 rocket.CHAPTER 12FORWARD TO THE RHINE339Progress of the land campaign – Marked contrast in Allied
and German air support – Bomber Command's missions –
The part of No. 75 Squadron – Second Tactical Air Force –
Mobile Wings – Fighter and medium-bomber operations –
New Zealanders with 2nd TAF – Prominent personalities –
The work of Nos. 485, 486, 487, and 488 Squadrons – New
Zealanders with Fighter Command.CHAPTER 13TRANSPORT AND SPECIAL DUTIES369Achievements of Transport Command – Its early development – New Zealanders with the RAF organisation – Operations with No. 44 Group – Atlantic ferrying with No. 45
Group – Transport and supply with Nos. 38 and 46 Groups –
Normandy, Arnhem, and the Rhine – Supporting the final
advance – Special duties with No. 38 Group and Bomber
Command – Dropping supplies and landing agents over
Europe – Hazards involved and the success achieved.CHAPTER 14BOMBER COMMAND AND THE BATTLE OF GERMANY387The battle is renewed – Bomber Command operates at
greater advantage – German cities, especially in the Ruhr,
heavily attacked – Effect of this onslaught – Enemy communications also bombed – The Dortmund-Ems canal
blocked – Controversy over oil targets – Heavier attacks by
British bombers – Tirpitz is sunk – The climax.
New Zealanders with Bomber Command – Some remarkable
experiences – The work of the Mosquito crews – Radio
counter-measures – No. 75 Squadron's prominent part.
What the bomber offensive achieved – Harris's tribute to his
men.CHAPTER 15COASTAL COMMAND PATROLS413A notable contribution to victory – Last phase of the
U-boat war – German plans frustrated – New Zealanders in
patrol and attack – The part of No. 490 Squadron – Attacking
enemy ships – Prominent New Zealand leaders – No. 489
Squadron in action – New Zealanders share in photo-reconnaissance, air-sea rescue, and ‘met’ flights.CHAPTER 16THE LAST PHASE428The advance into Germany – Supporting operations by
2nd TAF and Bomber Command – Operation exodus – Last
weeks of the war at sea – Final missions of the New Zealand
squadrons.CHAPTER 17MISSION COMPLETED442APPENDICES—IPrincipal events of the Second World War (1943–45) with particular reference to air operations in Europe447IIStrengths and Casualties455IIINotes on the New Zealand Squadrons456IVPrincipal types of British and German operational aircraft (1943–45)463VGlossary467VIBibliography469
List of Illustrations
FrontispieceBomber crew being interrogatedAir MinistryFollowing page100Flying Officer L. A. Trigg, VCRoyal New Zealand Air ForceU-boat under air attackAir MinistryU-boat founderingAir MinistryCoastal Command BeaufighterRoyal New Zealand Air ForceNo. 490 Squadron group, West Africa, July 1943Air MinistryAerial minesTopical PressAir Vice-Marshal C. R. CarrImperial War MuseumAir Commodore A. McKeeSport and GeneralBombing upImperial War MuseumA Halifax about to take offImperial War MuseumRadar screen shows features in the Flensburg areaImperial War MuseumNavigator plotting courseImperial War MuseumThe Eder Dam breachedAir MinistryBomb aimerImperial War MuseumMarshalling yards at HammImperial War MuseumA Halifax landing after a long night raidImperial War MuseumBriefing crews of No. 75 SquadronSport and GeneralThe damaged tail unit of a StirlingSport and GeneralThe Amiens prison raidImperial War MuseumSquadron Leader L. H. Trent, VCRoyal New Zealand Air ForceAbove a railway yard in BelgiumImperial War MuseumBefore and after attack on a flying-bomb installation in Northern FranceImperial War MuseumWing Commander W. V. Crawford-ComptonSport and GeneralSquadron Leaders R. J. C. Grant and E. P. WellsSport and GeneralSquadron Leader J. M. CheckettsAir MinistryDispersal huts of No. 486 SquadronSport and GeneralSix stages in the destruction of a Messerschmitt 109GAir MinistryPilot and navigator of a Mosquito night fighterImperial War MuseumFlight Lieutenant G. E. Jameson and his navigatorAir MinistryThe night-fighter patrol takes offImperial War MuseumAir Marshal Sir Arthur ConinghamImperial War MuseumD DayImperial War MuseumLancasters of Bomber Command in daylight attackImperial War MuseumEnemy strongpoint obliteratedImperial War MuseumGerman army headquarters attacked, NormandyImperial War MuseumAttack by Coastal Command Beaufighters, NormandyImperial War MuseumFollowing page344Rocket-firing Typhoons at the Falaise GapImperial War MuseumGerman transportImperial War MuseumFlying bomb on launching platform and in flightThe V-1 flying bombImperial War MuseumA V-1 launching site near AlmeloImperial War MuseumA Spitfire tips over a flying bombImperial War MuseumV-2 rocket leaving the firing tableImperial War MuseumAn airfield in Holland, with Spitfires in the snowImperial War MuseumAttack on a railway bridge in HollandImperial War MuseumServicing a Spitfire on a Belgian airfieldImperial War MuseumA Lancaster over HeinsburgImperial War MuseumLow-level attack on Gestapo headquarters, DenmarkRoyal New Zealand Air ForceAirborne landing at ArnhemImperial War MuseumBrunswick burnsImperial War MuseumPathfinder target indicators over PforzheimImperial War MuseumDestruction of the Dortmund-Ems CanalImperial War MuseumThe Tirpitz capsizedImperial War MuseumAttacking a synthetic oil plant in the RuhrImperial War MuseumMachine-tool shop wrecked in DusseldorfImperial War MuseumGutted buildings of a synthetic oil plant at BohlenImperial War MuseumThe heart of Berlin, May 1945Imperial War MuseumA strike against enemy shipping by Coastal CommandImperial War MuseumIntense flak in the Den Helder RoadsImperial War MuseumAttacking cargo ships in a Norwegian fiordImperial War MuseumBomb damage in a U-boat pen at BrestImperial War Museum
List of Maps and Diagrams
Facing pageEurope17Principal Targets attacked by Bomber Command, 1942–4335Fighter and Light-bomber Operations, 1943133Pre-invasion Air Attacks231Principal Targets attacked by Bomber Command, 1944–45377Battle of the Atlantic, June 1943–May 1945411In textPageAtlantic Air Patrols20Biscay Patrols27Targets in West Germany42Attacks on German Sea Communications by Bomber and Coastal Commands116Air Operations – the Invasion of Normandy284Defence against the Flying Bombs320The Pursuit to the Rhine340The Ardennes Battle342Airborne Assault at Arnhem379Royal Air Force Bomber Command—Distribution of Effort by Bomb Tonnages, June 1944 – April 1945398Overrunning Germany430
The occupations given in the biographical footnotes are those on enlistment.
CHAPTER 1
Introduction
The closing months of 1942 had brought a distinct change for
the better in Allied fortunes. In the North African desert the
British Eighth Army under General Alexander and General
Montgomery had won a notable victory at El Alamein and was
pursuing Rommel's beaten and battered Afrika Korps and Italian
Army across Libya towards Tripoli. Farther west surprise landings
in French North Africa by American and British forces had brought
the whole of Algeria and Morocco and part of Tunisia under
Allied control. In the Far East the Japanese had been halted and
were now on the defensive. Heavy blows were being struck in New
Guinea, and American naval successes were restoring to the United
States the predominant position at sea. British troops under General
Wavell were advancing from India into Burma and provided
further evidence of the growing Allied strength in South-East Asia.
Tidings of remarkable victories also came from Russia, where
Soviet armies, having trapped some 300,000 Germans at Stalingrad,
were sweeping forward along the caravan trails of the Kalmuck
steppes towards the Sea of Azov and Rostov. Indeed, the Red Army,
helped by arms from Britain and America, was now on the offensive
along its whole vast front. Finally, in Europe, ever-increasing
pressure was being exerted against Germany from the west. Heavy
RAF raids had begun to spread devastation in the industrial cities
of the Rhineland, and every week the power of the air offensive
was growing. Although far from beaten, the Luftwaffe seemed
unable, for the time being at least, to hit back. Raids on Britain
had dwindled to insignificant proportions, and with the peoples of
the Commonwealth, in company with powerful allies, now armed,
organised, and equipped for war as never before, the prospects
seemed more hopeful. Only the shadow of the ever-growing U-boat
menace darkened the outlook in the United Kingdom.
Such, briefly, was the war situation when Franklin Roosevelt
and Winston Churchill met with the Chiefs of Staff at Casablanca
in January 1943 to carry their war plans a stage further. The
defeat of Germany and Italy had already been declared the primary
objective, and now that Great Britain and the United States
possessed powerful and growing forces the problem was how best
to bring these forces into action. Both nations had oceans and seas
to cross before they could close with their enemies. Apart from the
daring and complicated enterprise of landing on defended coasts,
there was the need to build up all the supplies and communications
necessary for vigorous campaigning once a foothold had been
gained. Yet the Germans still held the initiative at sea. Indeed,
during the last few months of 1942, sinkings of Allied ships had
reached alarming proportions, and even though shipbuilding, as a
result of prodigious efforts, bid fair to balance losses, Churchill and
Roosevelt recoiled from planning ahead in cold blood on a basis
of losing hundreds of thousands of tons a month; the waste of
precious cargoes, the destruction of so many noble ships, the loss
of heroic crews, combined to present a sombre picture. Therefore
came the first decision at Casablanca: ‘The defeat of the U-boat
must remain a first charge on the resources of the United Nations.’
Once the measures to be adopted against the U-boat menace had
been discussed, the Allied leaders turned their minds to the problem
of attacking the Axis countries. Agreement was finally reached on
essentials. First, the enemy was to be driven from the Mediterranean.
This was to be followed by ‘the assembly of the strongest possible
forces in the United Kingdom in readiness to re-enter the Continent
as soon as German resistance is weakened to the required extent.’
Meanwhile, ‘the heaviest possible air offensive against the German
war effort was to be launched.’ United States Air Forces were to be
built up in England as fast as possible and later formations would
be based in Italy, from where they would also attack Germany. This
would introduce a new element into the air offensive, for while the
British heavy bombers were designed for night work the American
aircraft were built for daylight flying - they carried a smaller bomb
load but were faster and more heavily armed. Thus a combined
bomber offensive would be launched in which Germany would be
attacked continually ‘round the clock’ and her air force compelled
to engage in a war of attrition.
The Casablanca Conference did much to clear the strategic atmosphere especially with regard to the use of air power, and it was
thereafter possible for Allied strategists to plan with new assurance.
But most of the work of the conference was done on the level of
general policy, and although it laid down guiding principles it did
not prepare specific plans; even the directive for the bomber
offensive provided only a general indication of policy and gave only
tentative direction. It therefore became the task in the succeeding
months to translate the Casablanca decisions into terms of specific
commitments and detailed objectives. This proved far from easy:
for while the conquest of Sicily was accepted as a logical step after
the occupation of the North African seaboard, there soon appeared
considerable divergence in Allied views as to the next stage. British
strategy favoured further exploitation of the successes in the
Mediterranean even beyond driving Italy out of the war, but the
Americans were more inclined to an early invasion of western
France. There was much debate on these matters before it became
clear that with the men, supplies, and equipment available, the
only continental landing possible in 1943 would be in Italy. The
cross-Channel assault was therefore further postponed until the
spring of 1944. But under pressure from the Americans this opera-
tion, as its code-name overlord implied, now assumed a paramount
position in Allied planning, with particular emphasis on development of the combined attack on Germany by Royal Air Force
Bomber Command and the United States 8th Air Force.
In Berlin the opening of the fourth year of war was regarded with
far less optimism. However, while an early victory now seemed
remote, the Nazi leaders felt that they could defeat an invasion
of the Continent, upon which the discouragement and distress of
the Allies might be such that the attempt would not be repeated.
Meanwhile the war at sea was going well for the Germans and,
in spite of severe reverses on the Eastern Front, Hitler still hoped
to deal Russia so hard a blow that even if she could not be conquered
her aggressive power would be restricted. Further, German scientists
were now pressing forward the development of long-range weapons
with which they hoped to pound London and other British cities to
rubble. One of these weapons was the flying bomb, another a huge
rocket missile, and there were variations on these two main themes.
Experiments with the still more deadly possibilities of atomic
weapons were also being made in Germany.
But in the meantime the war had to be fought and, both in the
air and on land, the immediate prospects were less favourable for
the Germans. The Luftwaffe in particular was in serious difficulties.
A long period of air fighting on three widely separated fronts,
culminating in the major effort at Stalingrad first to force a decision
and then to extricate the surrounded German Army, had imposed
a severe strain and raised urgent problems of manpower and equip-
ment. On top of this there was the imminent threat of heavier
Anglo-American air attacks. Far-sighted officers of the German Air
Staff had already seen the imperative need for a radical change of
policy to meet this new threat, but any attempt on their part to
present the facts realistically was liable to be castigated as
‘defeatism’. Only when it was too late did their arguments secure
grudging support. At the beginning of 1943 both Hitler and
Goering refused to accept proposals that the Luftwaffe should
sacrifice its offensive power to the requirements of defence, and it
was only as the Allied air attack on German industry developed that,
under pressure of circumstances, fighter production was given
priority, and even then Hitler was still disinclined to accept any
reduction of bomber output in favour of fighters. Eventually
Germany was compelled to devote the greater proportion of her
aircraft industry to the building of fighters, and her offensive power
was further weakened by the transfer of some bomber types to the
role of night fighter.
Many of the Luftwaffe's current difficulties were the result of
persistent optimism and lack of firm direction on Goering's part
during the early years. Udet, his old comrade in arms from the
First World War to whom the task of building up the Air Force
had originally been entrusted, had committed suicide in despair
at the end of 1941, and his successor, Milch, had also failed to
secure sanction for expansion programmes. Thus, during the critical
period of 1942 while the Allied war potential was being rapidly
mobilised and built up, the fighting value of the Luftwaffe had
considerably declined. By 1 January 1943 its operational strength,
the barometer of fighting capacity, had sunk to some 4000 aircraft,
while its initial reserves, previously an important adjunct, had fallen
away to almost nothing. Little provision had been made to meet the
possibility of a major setback such as now occurred. Indeed, the
German leaders had resolutely declined to consider the possibility
of being compelled to wage a defensive war in the air. From the
beginning they had planned for a series of blitzkriegs of short
duration and, in spite of reverses, had clung to their belief in a
rapid victory even as late as the second half of 1942. Yet now, when
this hope could no longer be entertained and it was imperative to
lay down a new programme for a long war, decisions were made
with reluctance and hesitation.
Goering, although still Reitchsmarshall and head of the Luftwaffe,
was fast losing his grip on events. The successive failures over
Britain and in Russia had badly shaken Hitler's faith in the
Luftwaffe and its chief, and he now took it upon himself to make
important decisions on air matters. Relations between the two Nazi
leaders became more and more strained, with Goering as doubtful
about Hitler's genius as Hitler was of Goering's ability as air com-
mander. Already there had been many dramatic interviews, and to
escape the tension of such meetings and the reproaches of his
Fuehrer Goering had withdrawn into a fantastic world of his own
and taken less and less interest in affairs. General Jeschonnek, Chief
of Staff of the Luftwaffe, eventually broke down under the strain of
the confusing and contradictory tasks he was set and shot himself
in August 1943.
As the months passed there was some evidence of a loss of
fighting spirit in the German squadrons and the transfer during the
fourth winter of the war of 200,000 trained men from the German
Air Force to the Army can scarcely have improved morale. While
suicide was apparently a popular item in the Nazi code, the rise
in the suicide rate in the Luftwaffe from a modest 45 a month in
1941 to 70 a month in 1943 also tells its own tale. It was probably
for the purpose of keeping up the morale of their air services that
the German High Command credited certain fighter pilots with
successes which now seem incredible. For example, by the autumn
of 1943 four pilots had been awarded the Oak Leaves to the
Knight's Cross for the destruction of two hundred Allied aircraft
each.
Yet despite the struggle of the German Air Staff against the
obstinacy of Hitler, the incompetence of Goering, and the failure
of the High Command to appreciate the consequences of losing air
supremacy, the Luftwaffe, particularly its fighter arm, remained a
substantial force to be reckoned with in all military calculations up
to the closing months of the war. Each stage of what was, from
1943 onwards, a losing battle was bitterly contested.
In marked contrast to the increasing difficulties which faced
the German Air Force at the beginning of 1943 was the steady
growth of Allied air power. The build-up in the United Kingdom
of American strength was now reaching significant proportions, and
earlier plans for the expansion of the RAF were also bearing fruit.
A vast mass of weapons and machines poured from the busy
factories of Britain, the United States, and Canada. They included
more powerful bombers, faster and more efficient fighters, together
with reconnaissance aircraft of greater range that would reach out
and strike the U-boats in mid-Atlantic. The American output, which
by the end of 1943 rose to more than 8000 machines a month,
included large numbers of transport aircraft; Britain devoted less
attention to this type, but her output of heavy bombers was as
notable in relation to her productive capacity as that of the United
States, while her production of such smaller machines as the Spitfire
was prodigious.
Few completely new aircraft were introduced into the Royal Air
Force during the second half of the war, technical superiority over
the Luftwaffe being maintained by the steady development and
progressive refinement of existing types such as the Lancaster and
Halifax, the versatile Mosquito with its varied combat and photographic reconnaissance duties, new marks of Spitfire for both high
and low-altitude work, and the Typhoon fighter and fighter-bomber.
American types continued to add to the strength of the RAF, but the
bulk of the aircraft in service in all commands continued to be of
British design and construction.
To fly the larger number of machines now available a great army
of aircrew, pilots, navigators, and wireless operators and air gunners
was ready, and more would follow from the training establishments in an ever-increasing flow. As regards the Royal Air Force,
this had been made possible by the extension and expansion of the
Commonwealth Air Training Plans during 1942. Such was the
success of the various schemes that towards the end of 1944, when
the German Air Force was cutting down its training programme
in a desperate attempt to provide sufficient front-line aircrew, the
Royal Air Force, partly it is true because likely casualties were over-
estimated, found itself embarrassed by the flow of trained men
arriving in the United Kingdom. The squadrons were unable to
absorb all of them before the war in Europe came to an end.
Throughout the second half of the war New Zealand continued
to make a substantial contribution towards the achievement of
Allied supremacy in the air. The training organisations in the
Dominion had been expanding continuously since the beginning of
the war, so that in spite of the increasingly important part played
by the RNZAF in the Pacific area, New Zealand was able to
continue sending airmen to the Royal Air Force through the Empire
Air Training Plan. Pupils of each category received their preliminary
ground training in New Zealand. Then the observers and air
gunners, together with a proportion of pilots, were sent to Canada
for further training, the balance of the pilots completing their
course in New Zealand. By the middle of 1943 the number of New
Zealand airmen under training was 20,000 and the total with the
RNZAF and the RAF was some 42,000, of whom one-third were
overseas serving in the United Kingdom, the Middle East, in India
and Burma, as well as in the Pacific. Seven New Zealand squadrons
had now been formed in the Royal Air Force, three of them with
Fighter Command, two with Coastal Command and two with
Bomber Command. Yet, splendid though their record was to be,
these seven squadrons represented but a small part of the
Dominion's contribution, for the majority of its men serving with
the Royal Air Force were scattered among RAF units.
This continued dispersal was inevitable however undesirable some
considered the submergence of the identity of the Royal New Zealand Air Force. The main difficulty was that New Zealanders on
completing their training reached the RAF in small groups, sometimes all of the same aircrew category, and therefore could not easily
be formed into separate operational units without dislocation of
training and frustrating delays to the men themselves. So while
efforts were made to see that the seven New Zealand squadrons
already formed in the RAF received their full quota of Dominion
aircrew, and Air Ministry endeavoured to post New Zealanders to
squadrons in which their fellow countrymen were already serving,
no further New Zealand squadrons were formed in the Royal Air
Force after 1943. In any case, the policy of concentrating men from
a particular part of the Commonwealth in separate units, strongly
advocated in some quarters, was far from being universally popular
among the aircrews themselves, many of whom when given the choice
preferred to serve with RAF units. Moreover, it was the considered
opinion of some who were in a position to see both sides of the
problem that the more flexible arrangements adopted by New
Zealand were not only of the greatest help to the RAF in securing
the best possible employment of all trained aircrew but also had a
broadening effect on all concerned. Administrative difficulties were
reduced to a minimum by close co-operation between the Air
Ministry and the New Zealand Air Headquarters in London on such
matters as the employment of the New Zealand squadrons, the
posting of senior RNZAF officers, and the general welfare of
Dominion airmen attached to the Royal Air Force.
By the beginning of 1943 some of the New Zealanders who had
served with the RAF in Britain during the early campaigns had been
posted to the Middle or Far East and a few had returned to serve
with the RNZAF in the Pacific. Nevertheless, the main contribution
continued to be in the European theatre, and it is with the services
of New Zealanders in this sphere of operations that the present
volume is primarily concerned.
Here the Dominion was to be represented during the second half
of the war by such distinguished leaders as Air Marshal Sir Arthur
Coningham,
Air Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham, KCB, KBE, DSO, MC, DFC, AFC, Legion of
Honour (Fr.), Distinguished Service Medal (US), Order of Leopold (Bel.); Croix de
Guerre with Palm (Bel.); born Brisbane, 19 Jan 1895; 1 NZEF 1914–16; entered RFC
1916; permanent commission RAF1919; AOC No. 4 Group, Bomber Command,
1939–41; AOC Western Desert, 1941–43; AOC 1st TAF, N. Africa, Sicily, Italy, 1943–44;
AOC-in-C 2nd TAF, invasion of NW Europe and Germany, 1944–45; lost when air
liner crashed during Atlantic crossing, Jan 1948.
who commanded the Second Tactical Air Force in its
preliminary operations from Britain and subsequently in support
of the Allied armies on the Continent; Air Marshal Sir Roderick
Carr,
Air Marshal Sir Roderick Carr, KBE, CB, DFC, AFC, Orders of St. Stanislas and St.
Anne (Rus.), Croix de Guerre (Fr.); RAF (retd); born NZ 31 Aug 1891; 1 NZEF1914;
transferred RNAS 1915 and RAF1918; permanent commission RAF1926; served in
France, 1939–40, with Advanced Air Striking Force; AOC N. Ireland, 1940–41; AOC
No. 4 Group, Bomber Command, 1941–44; DCAS, Supreme HQ, Allied Expeditionary
Force, 1944–45; AOC Base Air Forces, SE Asia, 1945; AOC-in-C India, 1946.
who continued in command of a Bomber Group; Air Vice-
MarshalVice-Marshal Maynard
Air Vice-Marshal F. H. M. Maynard, CB, AFC, Legion of Merit (US); RAF (retd); born
Waiuku, 1 May 1893; served with RN Divisional Engineers 1914–15; transferred RNAS
1915; RAF1918; permanent commission RAF1919; AOC RAF Mediterranean, 1940–41;
Air Officer in Charge of Administration, Coastal Command, 1941–44; AOC No. 19
Group, Coastal Command, 1944–45.
at Headquarters, Coastal Command; and Air
Vice-Marshal Russell,
Air Vice-Marshal H. B. Russell, CB, DFC, AFC; RAF (retd); born Hastings, 6 May
1895; commissioned Royal Field Artillery, 1914; seconded RFC 1915 and RAF1918;
permanent commission RAF1919; SASO No. 21 Training Group, 1939–40; SASO
No. 2 RAF Component, France, 1940; served with Fighter Command, 1940–41; AOC
No.215 Group, Middle East, 1942–43; AOC No. 70 Group, United Kingdom, 1943–45;
Air Officer i/c Administration, HQ FTC, 1946–49.
in charge of a Training Group in Fighter
Command. Many RAF stations and bases in Britain and on the
Continent were to be commanded by New Zealanders, notably Air
Commodores A. McKee,
Air Vice-Marshal A. McKee, CB, CBE, DSO, DFC, AFC; RAF; born Oxford, Canterbury,
10 Jan 1902; joined RAF1926; permanent commission 1936; commanded No. 9 Sqdn,
1940; Wing Commander, Training, No. 3 Bomber Group, 1941; commanded RAF
Station, Marham, 1941–42; RAF Station, Downham Market, 1942–43; Base Commander,
Mildenhall, 1943–45; AOC No. 205 Group, Italy, 1945; SASO HQ Mediterranean and
Middle East, 1946–47; Commandant RAF Flying College, Manby, 1949–51; AOC No.
21 Group 1951–53; SASO Bomber Command 1953-.
S. C. Elworthy,
Air Commodore S. C. Elworthy, CBE, DSO, DFC, AFC; RAF; born Timaru, 23 Mar
1911; permanent commission RAF1936; commanded No. 82 Sqdn, 1940–41; Ops Staff,
No. 2 Bomber Group, 1941; Group Captain, Operations, HQ Bomber Command,
1942–43; commanded RAF Station, Waddington, 1943–44; Air Staff, HQ Bomber Com-
mand, 1944; SASO No. 5 Bomber Group, 1944–45; commanded Royal Pakistan Air
Force Station, Drighroad, 1945–49; RAF Stations, Tangmere and Odiham, 1951–53.
and G. T. Jarman,
Air Commodore G. T. Jarman, DSO, DFC; RAF; born Ashburton, 20 Feb 1906;
joined RAF1930; permanent commission 1936; CGI No. 2 FTS, 1939-40; commanded
No. 77 Sqdn, 1940–41; No. 76 Sqdn, 1941; 19 OTU, 1941–43; RAF Station, Wigtown,
1943; DCAS, RNZAF, 1943–44; AOC No. 229 Group, ACSEA, 1945.
Group
Captains G. J. Grindell
Group Captain G. J. Grindell, DFC, AFC and bar; RAF; born Geraldine, 20 Aug 1910;
joined RAF1932; permanent commission 1938; flying duties No. 5 FTS, 1939–40;
Air Staff, HQ FTC, 1940–42; commanded No. 487 (NZ) Sqdn, 1942–43; RAF Station,
Fiskerton, 1943-44; SASO RAF Mission to Australia and New Zealand,
1944–46.
and L. E. Jarman
Group Captain L. E. Jarman, DFC; RAF; born Christchurch, 17 Aug 1907; joined RAF1929; permanent commission 1934; CFI No. 23 OTU 1941; commanded RAF Station,
Litchfield, 1941–42; SASO No. 93 Group, 1942–43; commanded RAF Station, Kir-
mington, 1943; RAF Station, Wyton, 1943–44; SASO No. 205 Group, Italy, 1944–45.
in Bomber Command;
Group Captains P. L. Donkin,
Group Captain P. L. Donkin, CBE, DSO; RAF; born Invercargill, 19 Jun 1913; Cranwell
cadet; permanent commission RAF1933; commanded No. 225 Sqdn, 1939–40; No. 4
Sqdn, 1940; No. 239 Sqdn, 1940–42; No. 33 Wing, 1942–43; No. 35 Wing, 1943–44;
Member of RAF Delegation, USA, on visit to Pacific and Indian theatres of war, 1944;
CI, School of Air Support, 1944–45.
P. G. Jameson,
Group Captain P. G. Jameson, DSO, DFC and bar, Norwegian War Cross, Silver Star
(US), Order of Orange Nassau (Hol.); RAF; born Wellington, 10 Nov 1912; joined
RAF1936; commanded No. 266 Sqdn, 1940–41; Wing Leader, Wittering, 1941–42, and
North Weald, 1942–43; Planning Staff, No. 11 Fighter Group, 1943–44; commanded
No. 122 Wing, 2nd TAF, 1944–45; Air Ministry 1946–48; commanded Wunsdorf
Station, 2nd TAF, 1952–54; SASO No. 11 Group, 1954-.
H. N. G. Isherwood,
Group Captain H. N. G. Isherwood, DFC, AFC, Order of Lenin (USSR); born Petone,
13 Jul 1905; served with NZ Mounted Rifles, 1924–30; joined RAF1930; permanent
commission 1936; flying duties, Aeronautical and Armament Experimental Establish-
ment, 1936–41; Sector Commander, No. 9 Fighter Group, 1941; Controller, HQ No. 9
Fighter Group, 1941; commanded No. 151 Hurricane Wing in Russia, 1941; commanded
RAF Stations, Church Stanton, Valley and Woodvale, 1942–44; RAF Station, Mauripur,
India, 1944–45; commanded No. 342 Wing, SE Asia, 1945; killed in aircraft accident,
24 Apr 1950.
R. L. Kippenberger,
Air Commodore R. L. Kippenberger, CBE; RAF; born Prebbleton, Canterbury, 3 Dec 1907; joined RAF1930; permanent commission 1936; commanded No. 142 Sqdn, 1941;
RAF Station, Feltwell, 1942; RAF Station, Swanton Morley, 1943; Group Captain,
Operations, HQ No. 2 Bomber Group, 1944; commanded No. 137 Wing, No. 2 Bomber
Group, 1944–45; RAF Mission to Aust and NZ, 1946–49; commanded RAF Station,
Upwood, 1950–52; AOC No. 64 Group, 1953–54.
and D. J. Scott,
Group Captain D. J. Scott, DSO, OBE, DFC and bar; born Ashburton, 11 Sep 1918;
salesman; joined RNZAFMar 1940; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943; Wing Leader,
Tangmere, 1943–44; commanded RAF Station, Hawkinge, 1944; No. 123 Wing, 2nd
TAF, 1944–45.
and Wing Commanders
R. F. Aitken
Wing Commander R. F. Aitken, OBE, AFC; RAF; born Outram, 15 Sep 1913; joined
RAF1937; a pioneer of air-sea rescue; commanded No. 3 Sqdn, 1941–42; Wing Commander, Night Ops, No. 11 Fighter Group, 1942; commanded RAF Station, Hawkinge,
1942; RAF Station, Bradwell Bay, 1942–43; No. 150 Airfield, Bradwell Bay, 1944–45.
and J. S. McLean
Wing Commander J. S. McLean, OBE, DFC; RAF; born Hawera, 19 Feb 1912; joined
RAF1932; commanded No. 111 Sqdn, 1941; Wing Leader, North Weald, 1941; commanded RAF Station, Hunsdon, 1941–42; RAF Station, Catterick, 1943; Staff duty,
Organisation, No. 10 Fighter Group, 1944; commanded RAF Station, Preddanack, 1945.
in Fighter Command and the
Second Tactical Air Force; and Group Captains A. E. Clouston
Air Commodore A. E. Clouston, DSO, DFC, AFC and bar; RAF; born Motueka, 7 Apr
1908; joined RAF1930; test pilot, Experimental Section, Royal Aircraft Establishment,
1939–40; served with Directorate of Armament Development, MAP, 1940–41; commanded No. 1422 Flight, 1941–43; No. 224 Sqdn, 1943–44; RAF Station, Langham,
1944–45; BAFO Communication Wing, 1945–47; RNZAF Station, Ohakea, 1947–49;
RAF Station, Leeming, 1950; Commandant Empire Test Pilots' School, 1950–53;
AOC Singapore, 1954–.
and D. McC. Gordon
Group Captain D. McC. Gordon, OBE, AFC; RAF (retd); born Waverley, 7 Apr 1905;
joined RAF1930; permanent commission 1936; CFI No. 7 FTS, 1938–40; commanded
an Initial Training School, Canada, 1940–41; Control duties, HQ No. 18 Group, 1941–42;
commanded No. 119 Sqdn, 1942–43; RAF Stations, Invergordon, Castle Archdale and
Lagens, Azores, 1943–46.
in Coastal Command. In addition, sixteen
New Zealanders were to lead RAF wings and a further seventy-two
were to command RAF squadrons for periods during the second half
of the war; many more served as flight commanders or in similar
posts of responsibility with the flying units. But it was upon the
ordinary aircrew that the success or failure of operations ultimately
depended. And here the New Zealand pilots, navigators, wireless
operators and air gunners, many of them fresh from the training
units, continued to uphold the reputation for quiet efficiency and
loyal service established by their fellow countrymen during the
earlier years. By the end of the war just under 11,000 New
Zealanders had served with the RAF, and of this number 3290, or
nearly one-third, lost their lives. These heavy casualties were due
to the fact that the majority of the men served as aircrew, approximately half with Bomber Command where losses were particularly
severe.
There was, however, a significant group, some nine hundred in
all, who worked in various ground trades, servicing and repairing
aircraft or sharing the vast network of ancillary services upon which
the air operations depended. Indeed, New Zealanders were to be
found in almost every branch of the service and in widely scattered
units from Air Ministry in London to the radar station sited at a
remote spot on the north-east coast of Scotland where Flight
Sergeant Kennard,
Flight Sergeant R. G. M. Kennard, BEM; born Ashburton, 19 Jun 1919; radio mechanic;
joined RNZAFDec 1940.
in charge of the technical maintenance, won
commendation for his efficiency. Some men held responsible posts
in the various commands as administrative, training or technical
officers, and a relatively large group of New Zealand doctors served
with the RAF medical branch.
Of particular interest is the contribution made by Group Captain
Watt
Group Captain G. E. Watt, CBE, AFC, Legion of Merit (US); RAF (retd); born Frankton,
10 Feb 1908; permanent commission RAF1933; test pilot, RAE Farnborough, 1939–40;
research duties with MAP, 1940–43; Deputy Director Special Projects, MAP, 1943–45;
CEO Fighter Command, 1950–51; CTO RAF College, Henlow, 1953–54.
who was intimately connected with the research and development of jet aircraft engines for the greater part of the war. A
graduate in engineering in New Zealand and London, Watt had
been appointed to a permanent commission in the Royal Air Force
six years before the war. After service with a light bomber squadron
and a further period of advanced specialisation in aeronautical
engineering, he had been a test pilot at Farnborough where he did
over a hundred ‘blacking-outs’ in the air to assess the value of
various appliances. Then he continued on research and development
work with the Ministry of Aircraft Production, where for the last
two years of the war he was Deputy Director of Special Projects.
Watt's work in stimulating progress and getting co-operation
between the various industrial firms concerned with the new
invention is regarded by those with whom he was associated as
particularly valuable. A few months after the war an American
observer, nothing the success of this collaboration in Britain, declared
that ‘The great progress made in the few years of war and the
present excellence of British gas turbines could not have been
achieved but for the wholehearted way in which the various firms
interchanged “know-how” through the medium of the collaboration
committee.’
Journal of the Aeronautical Sciences, February 1946 – Ninth Wright Brothers Lecture on
‘British Aircraft Gas Turbines’.
Watt was associated with this committee from its
formation in 1941 and was chairman in the later stages. His knowledge and ability were also of the greatest assistance in the decisions
that had to be made regarding the forward types of engine that were
to be built. The tremendous expansion of British engineering
activities under the stimulus of war produced a shortage of technical
talent which was acutely felt in the aircraft gas-turbine sphere.
Group Captain Watt thereupon proposed a scheme whereby young
air force engineer officers from the Dominions should come to
England to help the work, obtaining at the same time training in the
new art. This proposal started a training school which continued
after the war with reciprocal advantages. When the United States
was given the results of British research in order to speed up the
development and production of jet engines, Watt was largely
responsible for the happy liaison established with the Americans.
He was made an officer of the Legion of Merit in recognition of ‘a
very high contribution to the common effort.’
* * * * *
At the beginning of 1943, although eventual victory seemed more
certain, hard battles had still to be fought. The tide had turned, but
it had a long way to go back. And while the Allied leaders, cheered
by the remarkable victories on land and apprised of the enemy's
increasing difficulties, could see the way ahead more clearly, to the
ordinary aircrew member of a squadron, and perhaps even more
to the airman who worked on the aircraft in hangars or at dispersal
points on airfields in Britain, the grand strategy of the war seemed
remote and meant little. True, the fighter pilots saw tangible
evidence of the favourable progress of the war as in ever larger
formations they escorted bombers to attack targets deeper and
deeper in enemy territory, but to the men with Coastal Command
the war against the German U-boats was for the most part a dull
routine of patrols over the sea in which only a few saw action. The
bombing offensive was also an impersonal sort of war and monotonous in its own peculiar way. Night after night as weather and equipment permitted, the Lancasters, Halifaxes and Stirlings went out,
dropped their bombs, and turned homeward. The immediate results
of their attacks could be photographed and assessed by skilled interpreters but rarely was a single raid or series of raids decisive; whatever earlier theory had taught of the sudden paralysis of a nation
by strategic bombardment, it was now clear that the effects of
bombing were gradual, cumulative, and during the course of the
campaign rarely measurable with any degree of assurance. Thus
there was little visible progress, such as Allied soldiers could sense
as they pushed Rommel's forces back from El Alamein to Cape Bon,
to encourage the men of Bomber Command. The crews went out
time and again to hit targets which they had seemingly demolished
before, and it was only towards the end that the full results of the
bombing attacks became apparent. As drama the ‘big show’ tended
to be flat, repetitive, and without climax.
However, as the months passed, with the Allies moving towards
mastery of the air over Europe, preparations for the invasion of
the Continent brought a quickening of interest on all sides. Even to
the humblest airman it then became clear that his particular job,
however small its scope, had meaning as part of the overall plan.
And when finally the Allied armadas set sail and were able to cross
the Channel unhindered by enemy air or naval craft, and then the
armies, with a minimum of casualties from enemy bombing, were
able to secure a lodgment on enemy territory, the men of the Allied
air forces could justifiably feel a deep sense of achievement.
Those who worked and flew with the Royal Air Force in these
later years of the war continued to show the same enthusiasm,
courage, and devotion to duty that had been a feature of the earlier
campaigns. They also displayed great skill in the handling of new
and highly technical weapons and in applying the subtlest and most
intricate devices of modern science. Young and adventurous, they
were capable of sudden and wild bursts of gaiety and high spirits
when the tension of their work was momentarily relaxed. Sometimes
these outbursts were spontaneous – like summer lightning – but often
it was a particular success or an unexpected survival that called for
a ‘party’, for letting off steam in an atmosphere of ‘eat, drink and
be merry for to-morrow we may not be so lucky.’
Typical of this lighter side of service life were the visits to the
‘local’. For in town or village near most stations there was always
the ‘King's Head’ or ‘Rose and Crown’ to which men roared along,
packed in cars of ancient vintage and with ruffled hair and scarves
flying, to pass an hour in gay banter, song or darts. There would
be much talk of ‘wizard types’, ‘binding jobs’, ‘duff gen’ and ‘bad
prangs’, and amid the laughter and clatter of glasses lots of ‘natter’
about ‘pressing on regardless’ in ‘ropey kites’ and some good ‘line-
shooting’. On such occasions deep underneath was hidden the real
men who had ‘seen their comrades fall from the skies and knew
too well the look in dead men's eyes.’ Some observers, deceived by
the apparent light-hearted and carefree attitude shown by the air-
crews, were inclined to frown at such frivolity and the ‘indiscipline’
of the service. They failed to realise that these men, shining youth
on the threshold of life, were living under circumstances of intense
and continual strain and that, in Bomber Command particularly,
they were faced with the very strong possibility of death in one
of its least pleasant forms.
Yet these same young men could be both grim and purposeful
when occasion demanded. There was much pride in squadron
achievement and a fine spirit of comradeship among the members of
individual crews. And if the effect of their sorties was seldom
evident at the time, many men found ample compensation in the
exhilaration of speed, in the sense of elation which came from
flying a high-powered machine, and even in such small things as
the sight of a familiar beacon or landmark at the end of a long
flight. In spite of inevitable periods of frustration when for various
reasons things did not go well, and periods of inaction when men
became ‘browned off’, as they put it, there was quiet determination
to see the job through and an underlying contentment in the knowledge that difficult tasks were faithfully carried out. Many of the
brightest and best of those who served in the air arm did not
survive to see the crowning success. Yet all played their part in
winning the air supremacy that was to prove the cornerstone of
victory.
* * * * *
Air operations during the second half of the war were many
and varied. They also passed through many different phases, but
throughout there was steady development of new tactics, expanding
strength, and heavier offensive by the Allied forces. In the European
theatre the outstanding feature of the early months of 1943 was
the successful campaign against the U-boats in the Atlantic.
Attention then turned to the aerial assault on Germany, which
offensive tended to be divided into two steadily increasing phases –
night operations by the Royal Air Force and daylight attacks by
the USAAF, although medium bombers, fighter-bombers, and
fighters of the RAF kept up a steady, if less spectacular, offensive
by day throughout the year.
By the end of 1943 the combined Allied air attack was gaining
momentum, and as the heavy bombers penetrated to the heart of
Germany more and more of German air power was deployed to
protect vital war industries. The defence was strong and vigorous
and the Allies suffered severe casualties. But after the heavy attacks
on German aircraft factories and the fierce battles over enemy territory during the early months of 1944, the outcome of the air war
was no longer in doubt. With the Luftwaffe seriously weakened and
driven back almost entirely on to the defensive, the concentration
of invasion forces in Britain could proceed without fear of serious
air attack. The domination by Allied air power of the beaches of
Normandy was also assured.
In March 1944 the air campaign in preparation for the assault
on Europe entered its final stage and a sustained attack was begun
by the heavy bombers upon the railway system in France and
Belgium. Meanwhile the Second Tactical Air Force had been formed
in Britain to give close support to the Allied armies when they
landed on the Continent. Drawing on experience gained in the
Middle East, where the co-operation between the ground and air
forces during the North African campaigns had been highly success-
ful, its squadrons had joined in the wide pattern of operations by
which Allied air power was exercised to help the armies establish
themselves on the Continent.
With the successful landings in Normandy the role of air power
in conjunction with land forces again came into full play. The
breakout from the bridgehead was preceded by saturation bombing
of the enemy positions. The medium and heavy bombers, fighters
and fighter-bombers then joined in attacks on concentrations of
troops and armour, on road and rail communications, and on vital
crossroads and supply dumps. Enemy aircraft were engaged in battle
wherever they appeared and there were raids on airfields, reconnaissance and transport flights as the land-air team pursued the
Germans to the Siegfried Line. They fought it out over Holland and
Belgium, met the enemy's counter-attacks in the Ardennes with
determined ground and air action, and pushed forward again up to
and across the Rhine and into the heart of Germany. Meanwhile,
behind the enemy lines, air power played a vital role with attacks on
communications by land and sea and on the enemy's dwindling
resources of oil and power. And so effective were these attacks that
when the end came the collapse of the whole German economy was
imminent.
Partner with the Navy over the sea lanes; partner with the Army
in ground battles; partner with both on the invasion beaches;
reconnaissance photographer for all; mover of troops and critical
supplies; defender of the home base; attacker of the enemy air
force and vital strength far behind the actual battle line – this in
brief is the broad sweep of the many roles which air power was to
be called upon to play in the achievement of final victory. And
these various roles were not played in separate scenes, but rather
almost all of them would be going on at the same time. The menace
of the submarine was never ended; support of the ground troops
went on from day to day; the war in the air continued to the end,
and while the weight of the bombing attack was sometimes directed
against oil, sometimes on aircraft factories, sometimes on transport
or other target systems, each had to have continual attention. Since
the first outstanding achievement of the second half of the war was a
notable victory against the U-boats in the Atlantic, it is appropriate
to turn first to the war at sea.
CHAPTER 2
Aircraft against U-boat
The last months of 1942 had been a virtual paradise for the
German U-boats. Within the space of twelve weeks they had
sunk no fewer than 271 ships, totalling just over one and a half
million tons. Provided with greater resources and a more efficient
organisation than they ever possessed in the First World War, the
German U-boat command was now making a supreme effort to sever
the Atlantic supply lines and frustrate the launching of an Allied
offensive in Europe. Hitherto the tonnage of shipping lost in 1917
had been deemed an astronomical figure unlikely ever again to be
approached, yet the total losses for 1942, over six million tons, had
far exceeded it. ‘In the U-boat war we have England by the throat,’
boasted Goebbels, the Nazi Minister for Propaganda. And if further
indication of the enemy's intentions were needed it came with the
appointment in January 1943 of Admiral Doenitz, previously in
charge of the U-boat arm, to succeed Admiral Raeder as Commander-
in-Chief of the German Navy. Doenitz immediately subordinated
the requirements of the surface ships to the U-boat flotillas so that,
in the fourth year of the war, production continued to outpace losses
and more U-boats than ever before put to sea.
On the part of the Allies, while the gravity and extent of the
German threat were now realised, there was some uncertainty as to
how air power might best be used in meeting it. Attacks on the
U-boats at sea were coming to be recognised in some quarters as the
most direct and possibly in the long run the most effective method,
but, as things were, it was felt that they needed to be supplemented
by attacks on the submarines at their point of origin. The factories
making component parts, the construction yards, and the operational
bases on the French coast were suggested as suitable targets.
Bomber Command had already expended a not inconsiderable
effort against the first two objectives but, in accordance with the
RAF policy of area bombing, the attacks had been directed
principally against the cities themselves rather than against port
facilities and factories; apart from the damage to the plant at
Augsburg, which had been attacked in daylight during April 1942
with heavy loss, the raids had been without noticeable effect on
U-boat production. The plants making component parts for U-boats
were many, widely scattered, hard to identify, sometimes inaccessible
from the United Kingdom and difficult to destroy except by very
heavy attacks, while a surplus of suitable productive capacity still
existed in Germany. The shipyards also presented small targets,
often isolated from other suitable objectives and of the type not
easily put permanently out of action by bombing. Nevertheless, the
submarine menace had become so serious that further attacks on
these difficult targets seemed warranted.
As regards the bombardment of the main U-boat bases on the
Biscay coast - already undertaken on a limited scale by Bomber
Command and the USAAF - both British and American observers
entertained profound doubts. Apart from a strong reluctance to
cause further damage to French civilian life and property, it was
generally conceded that the roofs of the submarine shelters, constructed of reinforced concrete, sometimes over a dozen feet thick,
were impervious to any projectiles then available. But many still
hoped that, by disorganising the various installations and facilities
in the port areas, the turn-around of U-boats at the bases might be
slowed down to such an extent that their activity along the Allied
shipping lanes would be effectively reduced. The British Admiralty
in particular, deeply concerned at the inability to deal with the
increasing numbers of U-boats at sea, was most anxious for the
Biscay bases to be attacked. At Bomber Command, on the other
hand, Air Marshal Harris
Marshal of the Royal Air Force Sir Arthur Harris, Bt, GCB, OBE, AFC, Order of
Suverov (USSR); Legion of Merit (US), Order of Polonia Restituta (Pol.), National
Order of the Southern Cross (Bra.), Distinguished Service Medal (US); born Cheltenham, Gloucestershire, 13 Apr 1892; served 1st Rhodesian Regiment, 1914–15; RFC
1915; transferred RAF1918; permanent commission 1919; AOC Palestine and Transjordan, 1938–39; AOC No. 5 Bomber Group, 1939–40; DCAS, Royal Air Force, 1940–41;
Head of British Air Staff, Washington, 1941–42; AOC-in-C Bomber Command, 1942–45.
protested vigorously against ‘the employment of his force on a type of operation which could not achieve
the intended object.’ However, after a controversy confused by lack
of accurate intelligence information, the Admiralty view prevailed,
and British and American bombers were directed to continue their
attacks on the Biscay bases until it might be conclusively determined whether or not they constituted profitable objectives.
Bomber Command renewed its offensive against U-boat bases with
a heavy raid in mid-January on Lorient which, as the largest, had
been given first priority. In a series of nine area attacks on this port
in little over a month, some 3630 tons of bombs were dropped. The
United States 8th Air Force also attacked Lorient in daylight and
as a result of the combined attack the town was heavily damaged
and few buildings in the dock area remained standing. Then, at
the end of February, the British bombers turned against St. Nazaire,
which had already been subjected to a daylight raid by American
bombers. Three heavy attacks were launched in which 2720 tons of
bombs were dropped. The first of these attacks, by 400 Lancasters,
Halifaxes, Stirlings and Wellingtons, was reported as more concentrated than any of the raids on Lorient; at least 1000 houses were
destroyed and fires were still burning a week later. After the subsequent attacks, which were almost as heavy, the town was
devastated.
Meanwhile major attacks aimed at U-boat construction in German
ports commenced at the beginning of February with a Bomber
Command attack on Hamburg, but the principal targets for the
British and American bombers were the two great naval bases of
Wilhelmshaven and Kiel. The RAF raids were particularly heavy.
On four nights during February more than 800 bombers went to
Wilhelmshaven, while in a single raid on Kiel early in April the
force used exceeded 550 aircraft. Bremen was also raided in
February, a second attack was made on Hamburg at the beginning
of March, while simultaneous raids were delivered against Stettin
and Rostock during April. Altogether these six German ports were
subjected to ten night attacks in addition to the daylight raids by
the American bombers.
New Zealanders flew with RAF squadrons in each of Bomber
Command's attacks. In addition, crews from No. 75 Squadron took
part in five raids on Lorient, the three major attacks against
St. Nazaire, and in both raids on Hamburg; they also flew to
Wilhelmshaven, Kiel, and Rostock. Five New Zealand Stirlings
failed to return from these missions. Pilot Officers Blincoe
Pilot Officer K. H. Blincoe; born Nelson, 3 Nov 1909; telegraph faultman; joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 3 Feb 1943.
and
McCullough,
Pilot Officer J. McCullough, DFC; born Timaru, 5 Aug 1912; clerk; joined RNZAFJan 1940; killed on air operations, 3 Feb 1943.
two of the most experienced pilots serving with the
squadron, were lost with their crews in the first attack on Hamburg.
Another captain, Sergeant Kidd,
Flight Lieutenant R. M. Kidd; born Christchurch, 29 Sep 1919; apprentice fitter and
turner; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
whose aircraft was shot down in
a January raid on Lorient, managed to evade capture and after a
series of adventures returned to England four months later. The
other members of his crew were either killed or made prisoner.
Kidd had landed unconscious in a ploughed field after baling out
from his burning machine, but the Germans missed him in their
search. French people helped him with food, clothing, and shelter
and eventually ‘arranged’ his journey down through France and over
the Pyrenees into Spain.
Other crews reported eventful flights. Over Rostock one Stirling
was damaged in a collision with a Lancaster. The rudder was
jammed and the fin bent and it was only when the bomber had gone
down to within a few hundred feet of the ground that the pilot,
Sergeant Dalzell,
Flying Officer H. J. Dalzell, DFM; born Christchurch, 31 Jul 1918; truck driver; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
regained control. He was then faced with a
return flight of some 400 miles, but although the aircraft proved
extremely difficult to keep straight and level he succeeded in reaching base. Another New Zealander who displayed determination and
fine airmanship that same night was Flight Lieutenant Becroft
Flight Lieutenant K. H. Becroft, DFC; born Helensville, 6 Jul 1915; carpenter and
joiner; joined RNZAFApr 1941.
of
No. 218 Squadron. Over Denmark his Stirling was hit by flak
which damaged the engine and the elevator controls. However,
Becroft decided to continue to the target, which was duly reached
and bombed, and then under trying and difficult circumstances he
flew his damaged machine back to base and landed safely.
In April 1943 Bomber Command was relieved of its commitment
to attack the U-boat bases and specific construction facilities,
although the offensive was continued for a time by the United
States 8th Air Force. There was, particularly in the British Air Staff,
a growing feeling that the heavy bombers would achieve a greater
overall result and still contribute to the U-boat war if their attacks
were concentrated against the main industrial centres in Germany.
And while the Admiralty continued to press for further attacks,
particularly against the French ports, there were soon more serious
doubts in other quarters as to whether bombing could achieve any
immediate effect on the operations of the enemy submarine fleet.
Fortunately by June the U-boat menace had greatly subsided and the
main effort of the Allied bombers could be directed elsewhere.
This brief campaign and the controversy which accompanied it
constituted a somewhat melancholy episode in the opening stages
of the combined British and American air offensive, for it now
appears that the comparatively heavy attacks on factories and
building yards by both the RAF and the USAAF during the first
half of 1943 had little effect on the German production of sub-
marines. Indeed, not until the last months of the war did the
U-boat production fall off seriously, and then the paralysis came
partly from the vastly increased weight of attack and partly from
the general disruption of transport facilities which in those later
days affected all enemy industry. Even more frustrating to the Allied
hopes were the attacks made against the operational bases on the
French coast, for it seems that they had practically no effect on the
activity of the U-boat fleet at any period. According to Admiral
Doenitz, who as Commander of the German U-boat fleet was in a
position to speak with authority, not only were the U-boat shelters
impervious to anything but the very heavy bombs dropped occasionally in the later stages of the war by the RAF, but they housed
virtually all the necessary repair and maintenance facilities. Bombing of surrounding installations did not therefore seriously affect
the rate of turn-around of the U-boats. What slowed it most
effectively, he claimed, was the necessity for repairing the damage
done to hull structure by aerial depth-charge attacks delivered at
sea. In fact, it was the air attacks at sea in particular that stopped
his desperate bid for victory in the Battle of the Atlantic. A similar
conclusion was reached after the war by the United States Strategic
Bombing Survey: ‘In wresting victory from the enemy submarine
strategic bombing can at best be considered to have been only an
incidental contributing factor.’
* * * * *
As regards the aerial campaign at sea there was, at the beginning
of 1943, some difference of opinion on the relative merits of giving
close escort to all convoys and, on the other hand, of maintaining
offensive patrols in areas of U-boat concentration such as the Bay
of Biscay, where the German submarines passed to and from their
bases in the French Atlantic ports. But the heavy losses then being
suffered in the North Atlantic demanded that the major effort of
RAF Coastal Command should be directed to the protection of
shipping in this area.
The next few months were to see the peak of the German assault
on the North Atlantic convoys and a most determined attempt to cut
off Britain's supplies from the United States and Canada. There
were now approximately one hundred U-boats at sea at any one
time.
During 1943 the main types of operational U-boats used by the Germans were vessels of
517 and 740 tons carrying crews of about 45 and 55 respectively, although they were also
building 1600-tonners for longer cruises and supply. The U-boats had two sets of machinery; diesel engines for propulsion on the surface and electric motors for use when submerged, the latter also serving as dynamos for recharging batteries on the surface.
Maximum speed on the surface was about seventeen knots, but the normal cruising speed
of eight knots gave an endurance of some 10,000 miles. When travelling submerged on
both motors top speed was about seven and a half knots, but then battery endurance was
only two hours. At lower speeds a U-boat could remain submerged much longer, but the
air became so foul that normally the vessel would not stay down for more than twenty
hours at a time.
Spread in long lines across the shipping routes, one or other
of them would sight and shadow a convoy while others assembled,
and then would follow a series of ‘wolf-pack’ attacks which might
continue for several days. During February and March 1943 some
of the most bitter and prolonged engagements of the whole war
were fought round convoys in the North Atlantic between U-boats
and Allied air and surface escorts. Unfortunately, this critical period
came at a time when the surface escorts of the Royal Navy were
feeling the effects of their long periods at sea during the winter
months, and some were absent from their groups owing to damage
sustained in the heavy winter gales. However, vigorous counter
measures planned a few months earlier soon began to have their
effect. The provision of more aircraft, particularly American-built
Liberators and Fortresses, flown by British crews, and the opening
of new airfields in Northern Ireland, the Hebrides, and in Iceland
made possible fuller protection of ships from the air. The first of
the small aircraft carriers and additional surface escorts began to
accompany some convoys while a highly efficient control organisation – the Area Combined Headquarters at Liverpool in which
naval and air staffs worked side by side – was keyed to full pitch.
Land planes and flying boats of Coastal Command were now
employed to the limit of their range and endurance in order to give
the fullest possible protection to threatened convoys, sorties averaging from ten hours in the case of Wellingtons to seventeen hours
with the very-long-range Liberators, and even longer with Catalinas.
The patrols flown were of three main types. First, there was the
‘close escort’ in which the aircraft, after meeting the convoy and
exchanging recognition signals, remained in its vicinity carrying out
searches on the orders of the senior naval officer on one of the
escort vessels; secondly, there were offensive patrols sweeping on
parallel tracks over the convoy's path and along its flanks. Such
patrols were usually timed so that some aircraft reached the ships at
dawn while relieving aircraft later in the day flew beyond the
convoy, returning over or near it about dusk, the U-boat's favourite
hour for attack. These tactics proved highly successful. Sometimes
it was a shadowing U-boat that was depth-charged from the air or
a pack gathering for the assault would be found and attacked; on
several occasions German submarines were destroyed as the result of
close co-operation between patrolling aircraft and the surface vessels
of the escort, signals being exchanged by radio telephone or, when
radio silence was deemed essential, by Aldis lamp. A third type of
air patrol was the independent hunt over areas of the ocean where
U-boats were known to be lurking, their presence revealed by
sightings or by directional fixes from their radio transmissions.
Information obtained from such sources was sent to the operational
units so that crews could be briefed before setting out on their
missions.
The principal weapon employed in the air attacks at this time
was the 250-pound depth-charge set to explode at twenty-five feet
below the surface, and from four to eight were carried by aircraft
according to type and the length of their patrol. The depth-charges
were aimed visually by the pilot but released by an electrical distributor so that they fell in an evenly placed stick, the intention
being to straddle the U-boat so that one depth-charge fell near
enough to cause lethal damage. In order to achieve surprise the
aircraft usually patrolled at heights up to 5000 feet according to
cloud cover, but the actual attack, which had to be a short and sharp
affair before the U-boat crash-dived, was made from about fifty
feet. Yet it was not easy to manoeuvre a heavy four-engined aircraft
into position for successful attack while the target was still visible.
Moreover, the German submarines with their extra pressure hull of
high-tensile steel were specially constructed to withstand the underwater blast of depth-charges. Nevertheless as training, tactics, and
experience improved the air attacks became more accurate, inflicted
greater damage, and more frequently resulted in the complete
destruction of a most difficult and elusive target.
Particularly effective during the early months of 1943 were the
patrols flown by the Liberators of No. 120 Squadron from Iceland
and Northern Ireland and by the Fortresses of Nos. 206 and 220
Squadrons from a base in the Outer Hebrides. Stripped of unessential
armament and carrying maximum fuel, these machines were able
to reach far out into the Atlantic and cover the area in which the
U-boats were concentrating their attacks. Apart from the enormous
deterrent value of their patrols the three squadrons had, by the end
of March, completely destroyed ten U-boats, which was almost half
the total sunk by the combined Allied air and surface forces in the
North Atlantic during the same period. Indeed, while the efforts
of those who flew the aircraft of shorter range were successful in
keeping the U-boats away from the British coasts, it was the handful of crews flying VLR Liberators and Fortresses who played the
more spectacular and decisive part in the North Atlantic battle at
this time.
New Zealanders who flew from Iceland with No. 120 Liberator
Squadron at this time included two pilots, Sergeants Bennett
Flying Officer H. J. Bennett; born Tuatapere, 11 Oct 1915; farmer; joined RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 3 Feb 1945.
and
Turnbull,
Flying Officer B. W. Turnbull, DFC; born Wellington, 11 Jul 1915; teacher; joined
RNZAFJan 1940.
together with Flight Sergeant McKeague,
Warrant Officer V. B. McKeague; born Timaru, 27 Jan 1910; clerk; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
navigator, and
Sergeant Tingey,
Flying Officer N. R. Tingey; born Wellington, 4 Feb 1920; salesman; joined RNZAFOct 1940.
wireless operator. Of particular interest is the
part played by these men in the protection of one large convoy of
sixty-four ships which crossed the Atlantic to the United Kingdom
early in February. Bennett and McKeague flew in the first Liberator
from Iceland to reach the ships in mid-Atlantic after an urgent call
for air cover. Although the convoy was more than 800 miles from
the air base in Iceland, the Liberator found the ships and remained
with them for seven hours, sighting and attacking three U-boats
during its escort patrol. The following day Turnbull and Tingey
were in the crew of another Liberator which attacked a U-boat in
the path of the same convoy. A second U-boat was attacked near
the ships that day by a Fortress of No. 206 Squadron which had
flown far out from the bleak and windswept airfield at Benbecula
in the Outer Hebrides. Sergeant Easton
Warrant Officer W. M. Easton; born Wellington, 27 Dec 1918; factory hand; joined
RNZAFJul 1940.
was a member of the crew.
Rain and low cloud enabled the Fortress to achieve complete
surprise and the four German lookouts were still on the conning
tower as the depth-charges fell. Their explosions engulfed the
U-boat, which disappeared, leaving a large patch of oil on the
surface.
The passage of this particular convoy provides a good example
of the important part now being played by aircraft in the Atlantic
battle. The ships had left New York for the United Kingdom on
25 January and the first week of the voyage, during which air cover
was provided from West Atlantic bases, was uneventful. On the
morning of the ninth day, however, the ships were sighted by a
patrolling U-boat, which soon assembled a pack, and during the
next few days five vessels were lost. Although one U-boat was sunk
in counter-attacks by the surface escorts, intercepted messages
indicated a growing concentration in the vicinity. Therefore, during
the next few days, in spite of rough weather which at one time
caused the convoy to be spread over fifty square miles of ocean, the
maximum possible air cover was provided from bases in Iceland
and later in the United Kingdom; four more ships were lost, but ten
U-boats were sighted and depth-charged from the air, one being
sunk outright. Thereafter no further attacks were made on the
remaining ships of the convoy, which reached port safely a few
days later.
During the early months of 1943 the efforts of crews who flew
patrols over the Atlantic were more frequently rewarded by sighting and attack, but few New Zealanders with Coastal Command
were as fortunate as Pilot Officer Ackerman,
Flight Lieutenant J. D. Ackerman, MBE; born Masterton, 6 Jul 1921; civil servant;
joined RNZAFOct 1940.
navigator of a Fortress
bomber which sank two U-boats within the space of a few weeks.
The second attack was one of several made in the middle of March
when two inward-bound convoys, routed close together, were being
trailed and intermittently attacked by a pack of some thirty U-boats;
thirteen vessels had been sunk during one day while the convoy
was outside the range of air cover. The surface escorts were hopelessly outnumbered and unable to repel the mass attacks that took
place. During the next few days every long-range aircraft that
could be spared joined in the battle; nineteen U-boats were sighted
and attacked, and finally the enemy's effort was broken. The
intensity of the air cover and frequent depth-charging proved too
much for the German U-boat commanders.
Among the aircraft which took part in this action were Liberators
from No. 86 Squadron, recently converted to this type of bomber.
One crew, with an Australian captain and a New Zealander,
Sergeant Lloyd,
Flying Officer J. Lloyd; born Auckland, 5 Jan 1920; storeman; joined RNZAFNov 1941.
as second pilot, attacked two U-boats after they
had flown nearly 800 miles from an airfield in Northern Ireland to
cover the convoy in the early stages of the enemy assault. On their
next three sorties this same crew attacked four more U-boats – a
remarkable experience even in this period of intense activity. On the
third patrol early in April, when they were again escorting a convoy
at extreme range from their base, a U-boat which they depth-charged near the ships is known to have been destroyed.
It was to the crew of another Liberator of No. 86 Squadron that
120 survivors from a torpedoed British ship owed their rescue early
in May. The bomber, in which Flying Officer Robinson
Flight Lieutenant J. N. Robinson; born Milton, 21 Sep 1918; railway porter; joined
RNZAFNov 1940.
was wireless operator, was flying five hundred miles from land when a large
patch of oil and wreckage was sighted. Nearby were six lifeboats
roped together and drifting with the wind in a choppy sea. A signal
brought a destroyer racing to the scene and in the meantime the
Liberator circled the lifeboats, flashing messages and dropping food
and supplies; then finally it placed markers to guide the rescue
vessel on its approach six hours later.
During April, when altogether seven U-boats were destroyed by
air attack, one of the most dramatic encounters was that reported
towards the end of the month by Sergeant Gamlin
Flying Officer A. P. Gamlin; born Manaia, 31 Aug 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFJun 1941.
and his crew
of No. 206 Squadron. Their Fortress was sweeping along the flank
of a large convoy when a U-boat was sighted surfacing. By the time
the bomber had turned and commenced its run in to attack, the
submarine was fully surfaced and had opened fire from machine
guns mounted on the conning tower. Undeterred, the aircraft
continued its approach and the crew were elated to see their depth-charges fall in a perfect straddle. When the explosions subsided
the bow of the U-boat was jutting out of the water at a steep angle,
and a few moments later it sank almost vertically. The Fortress
circled and prepared to make a second attack with its two remaining
depth-charges but it was soon obvious that this would not be
necessary. A large patch of oil covered the sea, in which were
pieces of the U-boat and some twenty to thirty members of its crew.
The months of April and May 1943 brought a remarkable change
in the situation in the North Atlantic as the balance of advantage
swung in favour of the Allies. In April merchant shipping losses
fell to fifty-six vessels totalling 328,000 tons and in May they
dropped further to fifty vessels of 265,000 tons. On the other hand,
fifteen U-boats were destroyed in April and thirty-eight in May.
Several factors contributed to this favourable turn of events. At
the end of March an Atlantic convoy conference in Washington
had considerably strengthened and reorganised the available Allied
resources, both naval and air. It had also adopted a new system of
providing air protection for convoys crossing the Atlantic. There
had been a reorganisation of Eastern Air Command in Canada and
closer integration of its operations with those from the United
Kingdom and Iceland. Each morning, after a long-distance telephone
conference, convoys to be covered were given an order of priority;
this was at once transmitted to all concerned on both sides of the
Atlantic and in Iceland, then each Group replied stating what cover
it could provide, and details were arranged accordingly. Coastal
Command was now receiving steady reinforcements of crews, the
surface escort groups had been strengthened, and several more small
aircraft-carriers had begun sailing with convoys. Finally, the gap
in mid-Atlantic was at last being bridged by very-long-range aircraft
flying from bases on both sides of the ocean.
This closing of the gap, which had long been the aim of RAFCoastal Command, is well illustrated by a patrol flown towards the
end of April by a Liberator of No. 120 Squadron. Two New
Zealanders, Flight Sergeant McKeague and Sergeant Bennett, were
among its crew. The bomber took off from its base near Reykjavik
in Iceland early on the afternoon of 21 April, met a convoy in
mid-Atlantic and remained with it for nearly five hours, during
which time a U-boat was sighted and attacked. Then, after receiving
a message from Iceland reporting a deterioration in landing con-
ditions, the Liberator flew on across the Atlantic and landed the
following morning at Goose Bay airfield in Labrador after a flight
of nearly eighteen hours.
Gradually the increase in the range and strength of the Allied
forces began to have its effect. There were still well over a hundred
U-boats at sea at any one time and the German building yards were
producing more than sufficient new vessels to make up for their
losses, but for the first time the U-boat captains showed definite signs
of losing heart, failing to press home their attacks even when favourably placed for doing so. The air patrols continued relentlessly, and
the constant harassing from the air was a very strong deterrent. No
longer could the enemy submarines approach convoys and remain
immune from counter-attack. The time when a U-boat could stay
on the surface shadowing a convoy while it homed others to form
a pack was now passing. The assembling packs would be broken up
and forced under by air attack often many miles from the convoys,
and on occasion the shadowing U-boat itself destroyed before it
could even begin transmissions.
At the end of May 1943 there was a notable achievement when
a slow convoy of thirty-seven ships crossed the North Atlantic
without the loss of a single vessel, in spite of the fact that throughout most of its passage it was shadowed and trailed by a large pack
of U-boats. ‘This success,’ says an official Admiralty report, ‘was
achieved largely through the excellent co-operation between the
surface escorts and the accompanying aircraft, particularly the
strong support provided by the long range Liberators from Iceland
operating at great distances from their bases.’
Throughout the following weeks convoys came through with
negligible losses and it was soon clear that the Allies had won a
considerable victory. This was confirmed by the virtual withdrawal
of the German U-boats from the North Atlantic at the beginning
of June. Merchant shipping losses in that month fell to 96,000 tons,
the lowest figure for nearly two years. The growing despondency of
the German U-boat Command was reflected in various statements
and in comments of the enemy press and radio. ‘At present it is
more and more difficult for U-boats to attack convoys nor may we
hope that the U-boat campaign will lead to a quick decision,’ wrote
Admiral Gatow on 9 June, and a few weeks later another German
naval expert openly declared that: ‘The increased air support given
to the Allied convoys has neutralised the U-boat's most powerful
weapon – invisibility.’
* * * * *
The main centre of interest in the U-boat war now shifted to the
Bay of Biscay where squadrons of Coastal Command had long
maintained offensive patrols from bases in the south-west of
England. During the first half of 1943 New Zealanders continued
to fly with the Sunderlands, Whitleys, Wellingtons, Halifaxes and
Liberators which kept a constant watch by day and by night over
the waters from Cornwall to the north coast of Spain. They also
protected shipping in the south-western approaches. One Liberator
squadron based at St. Eval in Cornwall was led by Wing Commander A. E. Clouston, who had come to Coastal Command after a
distinguished career in experimental flying, while Squadron Leader
Brass
Wing Commander D. M. Brass, DSO; born Otautau, 1 Dec 1916; joined RAF1937;
served on Atlantic Ferry, 1941; Instructor, No. 3 School of GR, 1941–42; commanded
No. 612 Sqdn, 1943–44; CI No. 3 School of GR, 1945.
commanded a flight of Leigh Light Wellingtons
The Leigh Light was a two-million candlepower searchlight, named after the officer
responsible for its development; it was fitted in the under-turret of the aircraft. With
pilot and radar operator working together, it was possible to locate and home on to
surfaced U-boats at night; then at a range of approximately one mile the searchlight
would be switched on to illuminate the target, which could then be attacked with depth-charges as by day. The Leigh Light in a modified form was later fitted to Liberators and
Catalinas.
and
Squadron Leaders Marshall
Wing Commander T. O. Marshall, DFC; born Stratford, 25 Nov 1914; joined RAF1937;
Flying Instructor, No. 4 OTU, 1942; Staff duties, D of AT, Air Ministry, 1943; killed
on air operations, 8 Jul 1944.
and Baggott
Wing Commander S. G. Baggott, DFC; born London, 25 Nov 1916; joined RAFJun 1938; commanded No. 95 Sqdn, W. Africa, 1945.
held senior posts in
Sunderland flying-boat squadrons.
The theory upon which the Biscay offensive was based was both
simple and direct. For a long time most of the U-boats operating
in the Atlantic had been based at ports on the west coast of France;
indeed, practically the entire German submarine fleet passed backwards and forwards across the Bay of Biscay so that there was often
a high concentration in that relatively restricted area. Moreover, in
their passage across the bay the German U-boats were obliged to
spend appreciable time on the surface in order to recharge batteries,
when they were particularly vulnerable to attack from the air. It was
therefore argued that a sufficiently large force consistently employed
over these waters might eventually strangle the German submarine
campaign. But the difficulty was to secure the necessary force and
to balance it so that the area could be effectively patrolled both by
day and by night.
The introduction of the Leigh Light Wellingtons in the middle
of 1942 had made the night patrols more effective, but towards the
end of that year, just when Coastal Command's effort began to bring
an increase of sightings and attacks, the Germans countered the
type of airborne radar then in use by fitting their submarines with
a receiver that could detect approaching aircraft. The U-boat commanders were then able to evade attack by crash-diving. The result
was that in spite of much patient and persistent effort the campaign
against the U-boats in the Bay of Biscay was largely nullified. In
fact it did not become really effective until March 1943, when the
German U-boat commanders apparently began to lose faith in their
search receivers. By that time improved radar was being fitted to
Allied machines, and the provision of additional aircraft made
possible more frequent patrols by night as well as by day, which
gave the U-boats little respite during their passage. The chances of
aircraft catching them on the surface were further increased by the
careful selection of patrol areas after sightings were reported or on
the receipt of information from other sources.
Even so the Biscay patrols continued to demand much patience
and steadfast endurance from the aircrews concerned. The amount
of monotonous flying involved is difficult to imagine. There was not
even the meeting of a convoy and the subsequent exchange of signals
to break the long spell of flying over the sea. After five hours in
the air the men might catch a glimpse of the coast of north Spain
only to have to turn and begin the long flight northwards again. It
was only on rare occasions that a sudden shout from one of the
lookouts that he had sighted a possible U-boat provided welcome
relief. Yet these alarms sometimes proved disappointing since the
efficiency of patrols was marred by the presence of French and
Spanish fishing vessels in the Bay of Biscay; much time was often
wasted in following up radar contacts or distant sightings of these
vessels. On other occasions a German submarine would be sighted
when the aircraft was not in a position to make an immediate attack,
and before it could turn and reach its target the U-boat would have
submerged.
The night patrols during the winter months had been particularly
dreary for the crews of the Leigh Light Wellingtons, but towards
the end of March 1943, by which time many of the machines had
been fitted with improved radar, the patrols began to show better
results. A typical attack was made one night towards the end of the
month by Flying Officer Lewis,
Flight Lieutenant W. Lewis, DFC; born Wellington, 25 Feb 1922; salesman; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
captain of a Wellington from No.
172 Squadron. His crew of five included four other New Zealanders.
They were nearing the end of the southward leg of their patrol when
the radar operator reported a possible target ten miles to starboard.
Lewis immediately turned and homed on the contact, losing height
at the same time. When the radar operator called the range as just
under one mile the Leigh Light was switched on to illuminate a
U-boat almost straight ahead; the Wellington swept in to attack and,
as the depth-charges exploded, the vessel appeared to heel over on
one side before it was lost in the darkness. It was not seen again.
As such attacks by the Leigh Light aircraft increased, U-boats
crossing the bay began to appear more frequently on the surface
by day rather than face the sudden and unexpected attacks at night.
The battle thereupon entered a new phase in which the German
U-boats attempted to fight it out on the surface. To this end they
were fitted with extra machine guns to drive off aircraft that
surprised them or at least to upset the accuracy of the attacks. Some
aircraft were shot down and others damaged, but in spite of this
opposition and the chance of coming down in the sea hundreds of
miles from land the crews persisted in low-level attacks and showed
great courage in pressing them home. A Sunderland flying boat was
so badly holed in one encounter that it could not alight on the water
at its base without sinking. Its captain decided to land in a ploughed
field and achieved this feat without injury to his crew. Another crew
were at sea in a dinghy for eight days before they were rescued by
a destroyer to which they had made signals by Very pistols and
lights. But they had got their U-boat before they were shot down.
Indeed, most of the U-boats which attempted to fight it out on the
surface fared badly for the density of the patrols was now such
that additional aircraft could be summoned to the scene of a sighting to support and continue the attack. Coastal Command's No. 19
Group, with headquarters at Plymouth, soon became exceedingly
efficient in organising the ‘hunt to exhaustion’.
Encounters with surfaced U-boats gave the air gunners more
opportunities for proving their skill. Typically, one day towards the
end of May a Sunderland from No. 228 Squadron sighted a U-boat,
which opened fire and zigzagged as the aircraft approached. The
front gunner, Flight Sergeant Armstrong,
Flight Sergeant R. C. Armstrong; born Te Kuiti, 19 Oct 1911; labourer; joined RNZAFDec 1940; killed on air operations, 12 Jul 1943.
directed his fire with such
good effect that several of the German gunners were seen to crumple
up on the conning tower. The flak slackened and his captain was
able to take accurate aim. As depth-charges exploded the U-boat
shuddered violently; soon afterwards it sank, leaving a large patch
of oil and some thirty survivors on the surface of the sea. Before
joining Coastal Command, Armstrong had flown in the crew of a
Wellington bomber in raids on Germany. He had been shot down
over the North Sea and picked up by a destroyer an hour later. On
a subsequent raid his machine was badly damaged by flak when
flying high over Germany. The Wellington went down almost to
ground level before the captain could regain control. Armstrong's
ears were affected and he was told he could not fly at high altitudes
again, but he refused to be repatriated and transferred to Coastal
Command Sunderlands, which did not fly at great heights. After
taking part in several attacks on U-boats, Armstrong was lost with
his crew early in July 1943 when their Sunderland was shot down
over the Bay of Biscay after a gallant combat in which the flying
boat was heavily outnumbered by enemy fighters.
A remarkable episode occurred towards the end of June when a
Wellington, desperately damaged by intense and accurate flak as
it approached to attack a 1600-ton supply U-boat, crashed on the
submarine's deck, setting it on fire and wrecking the guns. By
chance, two depth-charges from the aircraft lodged on the U-boat
and these were later thrown into the water by the German crew;
one exploded and severely damaged the stern of the submarine so
that it was forced to remain on the surface. Within the hour the
vessel was sighted and attacked by another Wellington captained by
Flying Officer Whyte.
Flying Officer J. Whyte; born Killarchan, Scotland, 6 Sep 1917; clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 15 Aug 1943.
The U-boat now began to settle by the stern
and the crew was seen to pour out of the conning tower and abandon
ship. Shortly afterwards there was a violent explosion as the U-boat
blew up and debris was hurled high into the air. Prisoners said
afterwards that their commander, after ordering his crew to leave,
had himself set the scuttling charges and gone down with his ship.
Then, as the Wellington circled, it came upon a small dinghy a few
miles from the scene containing the rear gunner from the first
aircraft, who had miraculously survived the crash. Supplies were
dropped, the position reported, and both he and the survivors from
the U-boat were subsequently picked up.
In a desperate attempt to counter the growing air offensive
Doenitz began to send his outward-bound submarines across the
bay on the surface in small groups, so that they could give mutual
anti-aircraft support. One of the first sightings of such a group was
made by a Liberator of No. 53 Squadron, captained by Flight
Sergeant Anderson.
Flying Officer W. Anderson, DFC; born Aberdeen, Scotland, 1 Mar 1920; clerk; joined
RNZAFMar 1941.
During its approach the bomber was heavily
hit by concentrated cannon and machine-gun fire from three submarines travelling in ‘V’ formation; one of the crew was seriously
wounded and holes were torn in the fuselage and in one wing.
Nevertheless, Anderson persevered and in a second approach was
able to depth-charge a U-boat on the outside of the formation. The
other two then dived, leaving the third damaged and wallowing on
the surface.
More fighters were also sent by the enemy to intercept anti-sub-
marine aircraft. Flying in formations averaging from five to eight
machines, they achieved some success until methods were devised of
warning aircraft of their approach and patrols by British fighters were
increased. Meanwhile there were some spirited engagements in
which lone British aircraft frequently gave a good account of them-
selves. One Sunderland managed to beat off repeated attacks by
eight Ju88s, destroying three of them. On another occasion a
Liberator returning from patrol was attacked by five Messerschmitts.
In a running fight, two of the fighters were damaged while a third
was seen to crash into the sea. The Liberator, however, fared badly,
and with two of its engines damaged and gaping holes in the
fuselage it just managed to reach its base. All four of its gunners
were New Zealanders – Flight Sergeants Bailey,
Flying Officer F. E. Bailey; born Blenheim, 13 Feb 1910; carpenter; joined RNZAFNov 1941.
Heays,
Flight Sergeant I. R. Heays; born Napier, 7 Jul 1920; shepherd; joined RNZAFOct 1941;
died of wounds 21 Sep 1943.
Mills
Flying Officer H. J. Mills, DFM; born Gisborne, 26 Dec 1921; railway porter; joined
RNZAFJan 1942.
and
Thomson.
Warrant Officer I. R. W. Thomson, DFC; born Christchurch, 31 May 1921; miner;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
Heays was badly wounded in the engagement and died
later in hospital.
In July 1943 came the climax of the Biscay campaign, when, in
spite of the enemy's new tactics, no fewer than twelve U-boats were
sunk in the bay by air attack. Several of these successes were
achieved by the Leigh Light Wellingtons which had continued to
maintain pressure by night, some of them now flying on to Gibraltar,
while a detachment there flew patrols to the north-west to link up
with those from the United Kingdom. Towards the end of the
month Flight Sergeant D. E. McKenzie,
Warrant Officer D. E. McKenzie; born Masterton, 21 Apr 1922; farmhand; joined
RNZAFJun 1941.
who was with No. 179
Wellington Squadron at Gibraltar, had the unusual experience of
taking part in three night attacks within a fortnight. In the third
encounter the U-boat was so badly damaged that it had to be towed
into a Spanish port.
Of the daylight attacks in which New Zealanders took part during
this month one of the most successful was that made by Wing
Commander Clouston and his crew in a Liberator of No. 224
Squadron. There was a strong New Zealand representation in this
squadron, both on the ground and in the air throughout the second
half of the war. One of the flight commanders was Squadron Leader
Ensor,
Wing Commander M. A. Ensor, DSO and bar, DFC and bar; born Rangiora, 5 Jan
1922; shepherd; joined RNZAFJul 1940; commanded No. 224 Sqdn, 1945.
who had already had notable success in attacks against
U-boats both from the United Kingdom and during the North
African campaign; two New Zealand navigators, Flight Lieutenant
Kay
Squadron Leader J. R. Kay, DFC; born Onehunga, 29 Apr 1913; school teacher; joined
RNZAFJan 1941.
and Flying Officer MacAvoy,
Flight Lieutenant P. J. MacAvoy, DFC; born London, 7 Apr 1916; clerk accountant;
joined RNZAFOct 1940.
also achieved particular distinction in their work with No. 224 Squadron. In the three months
from May to July 1943 the Liberators attacked no fewer than fourteen U-boats, completely destroying three of them.
Early in August the Germans abandoned the disastrous practice
of fighting back during air attacks and resorted once again to a
policy of evasion. Fewer U-boats crossed the bay, and those which
made the passage travelled submerged, hugging the north coast of
Spain more closely than before, sometimes even within the limit of
Spanish territorial waters, an area crowded with fishing craft which
made radar detection, particularly at night, extremely difficult.
Nevertheless the hard-won advantage that the aircrews had gained
was not allowed to slip from their grasp. The patrols were continued relentlessly both by day and by night and any U-boats sighted
were hunted to exhaustion.
The tactics to which the Germans now resorted were eloquent
evidence of the final success of the Biscay offensive. Moreover, the
effect of the air patrols cannot be measured solely by the amount
of damage directly inflicted on the enemy. The constant patrolling
forced the German submarines to travel so slowly across the bay
that their efficiency in the open sea was considerably reduced and the
morale of their crews thereby impaired. In terms of submarines sunk
the campaign inflicted heavy loss on the enemy. During the period
from the beginning of June to the middle of August, twenty-seven
U-boats had been sunk in the Bay of Biscay and its approaches, all
but four of them accounted for by aircraft. Rear-Admiral Godt,
Commander-in-Chief of the German U-boats at this time, has since
declared: ‘July 1943 brought about the collapse of U-boat warfare
in its previous form. What happened after this point cannot be
compared with the early operations and nothing remained but plans,
preparations and hopes, which at the end of the war were only
about to be a reality.’
* * * * *
While the main air battle against the U-boats in 1943 was fought
along the North Atlantic convoy routes and in the Bay of Biscay,
activity was by no means confined to those areas. Both from
Gibraltar and from bases along the West African coast RAF
squadrons continued to maintain patrols, and during this fourth
year of war New Zealand pilots, navigators, wireless operators and
gunners flew with these units. For the Hudsons and Catalinas at
Gibraltar the main tasks were the protection of convoys from both
the Mediterranean and the Cape and the hunting of U-boats in their
area. Flight Lieutenant Le Couteur
Flight Lieutenant C. J. H. Le Couteur, DFC; born Dunedin, 1 Oct 1913; builder;
joined RNZAFNov 1940.
and Flight Lieutenant Kilgour
Squadron Leader F. W. Kilgour; born Dannevirke, 7 Oct 1920; shipping clerk; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
were prominent in these duties as captains of aircraft with No. 202
Squadron whose Catalinas, because of their low speed and great
endurance, were able to escort ships over long distances.
During the period of the North African landings in November
1942, the Straits and their approaches had been the scene of con-
siderableconsiderable U-boat activity, but with the successful Allied counter-attack in which nine U-boats were sunk within three weeks the
German submarine concentrations had moved elsewhere. Opportunities for attack had thus become less frequent, and among the
squadrons at Gibraltar Flight Sergeant Cox
Warrant Officer J. E. A. Cox; born Gisborne, 3 Jan 1918; bank clerk; joined RNZAFFeb 1941.
and his crew were
considered lucky when, early in February whilst escorting a convoy
off the coast of Portugal, they sighted and depth-charged two
U-boats within the space of one hour. The second attack was remarkable in that it was made with a single remaining depth-charge, which
fell directly beneath the stern of the U-boat and caused such damage
that it later sank. With the opening of the assault on Sicily and later
against the Italian mainland, many ships passed through the Straits,
but they were seldom molested by enemy submarines, largely owing
to the continued protection given by the aircraft from Gibraltar.
In West Africa New Zealanders were with each of the squadrons
based at intervals along the coast. Some were among the crews of
the Catalina and Sunderland flying boats and there was a small
group with the Hudsons of No. 200 Squadron flying from airfields
near Freetown and Yundum in Gambia. Wing Commander Evison,
Wing Commander C. E. W. Evison; born Invercargill, 27 Mar 1916; joined RAF Jan
1938; commanded No. 204 Sqdn, W. Africa, 1943; seconded BOAC, 1944–45.
who had captained one of the first three Sunderlands to operate from
West Africa, was now in command of No. 204 Sunderland Squadron.
He was later succeeded by another New Zealander, Wing Commander Hawkins,
Wing Commander H. J. L. Hawkins; born New Plymouth, 8 Dec 1904; joined RAF1930; commanded No. 204 Sqdn, W. Africa, 1943–44.
who had begun his career with flying boats some
years before the war. Prominent captains of aircraft were Flying
Officer Steer,
Flight Lieutenant J. R. Steer; born Hobart, Tasmania, 19 Jan 1912; asst sales manager;
joined RNZAFMar 1941.
who saw long service with No. 95 Sunderland Squad-
ron, and Sergeant Umbers,
Flying Officer D. T. Umbers; born Dunedin, 1 Aug 1922; clerical cadet; joined RNZAFOct 1941.
who was with No. 270 Catalina Squad-
ron. The Dominion's contribution in the West African area was to
be considerably increased with the formation early in 1943 of a
New Zealand unit, No. 490 Squadron.
German U-boats had been particularly active off West Africa
early in the war, but as air bases were established and surface
escorts increased merchant shipping sinkings had diminished steadily.
Nevertheless, continued air patrols were necessary to prevent a
recurrence of heavy losses, although the routine defence work in an
area far removed from the main centres of the war naturally proved
irksome and monotonous to the aircrews concerned. The patrols
now flown practically closed the gap on the shipping route from
Gibraltar to the Cape. Convoys were met as they entered the area
and escorted by relays of aircraft from base to base along the coast.
In addition, there were offensive sorties against U-boats patrolling
in the region or on transit to the Indian Ocean, and extensive
searches for survivors from torpedoed vessels.
During 1943 enemy activity off the West African coast was only
intermittent and the U-boats, captained by experienced officers,
operated with great caution on the fringe of the area swept by
aircraft. Consequently many patrols were without incident and the
routine flying over vast stretches of sea did little to relieve the
boredom of life in isolated tropical bases. The climate was unhealthy
and treacherous, sudden storms of great violence being frequent at
certain seasons of the year, when it was not uncommon for aircraft
on patrol to be forced down almost into the sea or to return to
find their base almost blotted out by heavy clouds and tropical rain.
Jui, near Freetown, from which No. 490 Squadron began operations
at the beginning of July 1943, was not a particularly pleasant spot.
The name itself meant ‘Swamp of Death’ and the humidity,
especially in the wet season, was excessive. The station was built on
the low spur running out into the estuary where the flying boats
were moored. Surrounding it were dense, steamy, mangrove swamps,
while farther back lay high hills which cut off the sea breezes that
would have freshened the heavy, stagnant atmosphere.
The New Zealand squadron had originally been intended for
service in the Indian Ocean but the need to reinforce West Africa
had caused the change of location. The ground staff reached Freetown towards the end of March, by which time the first crews who
were to fly out Catalinas from the United Kingdom had begun to
assemble and train at the flying-boat base near Stranraer on the west
coast of Scotland. Among them were several New Zealanders who
had already distinguished themselves in operations with Coastal
Command, notably Flight Lieutenant Godby,
Wing Commander P. R. Godby; born Christchurch, 27 Aug 1914; joined RAF Mar
1939; transferred RNZAFJan 1945; navigation instructor, No. 9 OTU, 1942–43;
staff duties, Navigation, HQ No. 19 Group, 1944.
who had flown
Ansons during the early days of the war, and Flight Lieutenant
Foster,
Squadron Leader A. M. Foster; born Blenheim, 22 Jun 1917; joined RAFAug 1938;
transferred RNZAFJan 1945.
who had been with the Fleet Air Arm at the outbreak of
war. The first commanding officer was Wing Commander Baird,
Wing Commander D. W. Baird, AFC; born Bangor, N. Ireland, 23 Dec 1910; served
RAF 1931–37; joined RNZAFMar 1938; commanded RNZAF, Fiji, 1940–41; No. 490
(NZ) Sqdn, W. Africa, 1943; RNZAF Station, Ardmore, 1945.
who had already had an interesting career, first with RAF flying
boats before the war and subsequently in photographic survey
duties with the RNZAF. He came to No. 490 Squadron after further
service in New Zealand and the Pacific.
The squadron's Catalinas were named after the New Zealand
provinces and the first two flying boats, piloted by Wing Commander
Baird and Flying Officer Patience,
Flight Lieutenant H. K. Patience; born Wellington, 6 Oct 1913; school teacher; joined
RNZAFApr 1941.
flew to West Africa in the
middle of June, others following during the next few weeks. Anti-submarine patrols and convoy escorts were begun at once, and
before long the unit had achieved an enviable reputation for good
serviceability and general efficiency which it was to maintain throughout its sojourn in West Africa to the end of the war, in spite of the
fact that much of its later work was exacting and very monotonous.
Several incidents in which New Zealanders were to play a
prominent part occurred during August 1943. The first was the
rescue of survivors from a merchant ship torpedoed some 400 miles
off Freetown during the night of 6 August. Flying Officer Grant
Flying Officer R. M. Grant; born Wellington, 27 Jun 1920; bank clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1941; killed in flying accident, 18 Nov 1943.
and his crew were sent out upon receipt of the vessel's distress
signal and within a few minutes of reaching the reported position
they sighted two lifeboats and three rafts, containing thirty-nine
survivors. Emergency packs, a wireless transmitter, and clothing
were dropped to them, the clothing being supplied by the crew of
the Catalina from what they were wearing at the time; it was a
group of tired and nearly naked men who returned to their base
after remaining with the lifeboats for five hours. As a result of their
signals a corvette had been directed to the rescue but before it
reached the survivors a second 490 Squadron Catalina, captained by
Flying Officer Ward,
Flight Lieutenant N. A. Ward, DFC; born New Plymouth, 16 May 1913; draper; joined
RNZAFApr 1940.
had succeeded in leading a merchant ship to
the scene to pick them up. This vessel was then escorted to port
by a third aircraft from the New Zealand squadron.
A few days later Ward was flying as second pilot to his squadron
commander and happened to be at the controls when a German
U-boat was sighted. Although only three miles away it was barely
visible in the fairly heavy sea that was running. Ward immediately
went in to the attack and four depth-charges fell slightly astern of
the submarine. As the explosions subsided its bows appeared to rise
out of the water; then after turning in small circles as if its steering
had been damaged, and exchanging fire with the Catalina, the
U-boat finally submerged. During the attack the fifth depth-charge,
which might have fallen nearer the target, unfortunately failed to
release, but the crew were considerably relieved when it also held
fast on landing back at base.
By a rather remarkable coincidence it was on the same day and
almost at the same hour that a particularly gallant attack was made
on another U-boat about ninety miles farther north by Flying Officer
Trigg
Flying Officer L. A. Trigg, VC, DFC; born Houhora, 6 Jun 1914; salesman; joined
RNZAFJun 1941; killed on air operations, 11 Aug 1943.
of No. 200 Squadron. It was Trigg's first operational sortie
in a Liberator aircraft. His unit was, in fact, only in process of
conversion from Hudsons to the new type, but as several U-boats
were known to be in the outer area it was essential that a Liberator
be despatched on patrol that morning. The bomber took off from
Rufisque, near Dakar, shortly after dawn. Four hours later a
surfaced U-boat was sighted and Trigg prepared to attack. But the
submarine did not attempt to submerge; instead, it engaged the
Liberator with its anti-aircraft guns, scored repeated hits and set the
bomber on fire during its approach. However, Trigg continued on
his course and aimed his depth-charges so accurately that they
straddled the U-boat; it sank a few minutes later. Unfortunately the
Liberator, immediately after making the attack, crashed in to the
sea. There were no survivors.
When Trigg and his crew failed to return to their base a search
was organised, and during the next afternoon a Sunderland sighted
a dinghy containing several men who were reported as survivors
from the missing Liberator. It was not until a corvette reached the
scene on the following morning that they were found to be seven
Germans, the only survivors from the U-boat. A dinghy which had
floated free from the Liberator at the moment of the crash had
been found and inflated by one of the Germans shortly after the
U-boat sank. Among the survivors was the German commander,
who expressed his admiration of Trigg's courage in not allowing the
submarine's accurate fire and the precarious position of his machine
to deter him from pressing home his attack. Only a few weeks earlier
Trigg had received the Distinguished Flying Cross for two skilful
attacks against U-boats whilst protecting a West African convoy in
March 1943. He was now awarded the Victoria Cross posthumously.
* * * * *
In September 1943 the Germans staged a brief renewal of pack
attacks on convoys in the North Atlantic. They had little choice in
the matter since it was only here that their U-boats could materially
affect the Allied build-up in the United Kingdom for invasion of
the Continent. Yet with the persistence and tenacity that were
typical of their operations throughout the war, the U-boat command
now began to try out new methods of attack and new weapons such
as the acoustic torpedo. This particular weapon, drawn towards its
target by the sound from a ship's propellers, was intended primarily
for use against the escort vessels. Each of the U-boats operating
against convoys now carried three or four of them, the idea being
to destroy as many of the escorts as possible and then use ordinary
torpedoes against unprotected merchant ships. However, after a
few initial successes these tactics failed dismally for within a matter
of weeks counter measures were introduced in the form of small,
noisy ‘foxers’ towed by the corvettes and destroyers.
Early in September, anticipating the enemy's change of strategy,
Coastal Command had reinforced the squadrons covering the North
Atlantic shipping routes, with the result that the U-boats in that
area found themselves constantly harassed and attacked from the
air. No fewer than fifteen were sunk outright by aircraft in the
North Atlantic during September and October. Among the New
Zealanders who saw further action during this period was Flight
Sergeant Lloyd of No. 86 Liberator Squadron. On 8 October, while
he and his crew were escorting a large convoy to the south of Ice-
land, Lloyd sighted a U-boat on the surface about seven miles away.
The bomber attacked the submarine as it submerged. Returning to
the scene an hour later, the crew sighted another Liberator engaging
a surfaced U-boat. They joined in the attack and shortly afterwards
the vessel blew up, leaving only a few of its crew to be picked up
by a destroyer.
A week later another successful attack was made by Warrant
Officer Turnbull as captain of a Liberator of No. 120 Squadron.
His crew, typical of many in the RAF at this time, consisted of an
Australian, two Canadians, two Englishmen and another New
Zealander, Flight Sergeant Tingey. They were sweeping ahead of a
large convoy when they sighted their target. As the Liberator
approached, the Germans opened fire, but this ceased when the
gunners began to score hits on the deck and conning tower. Then,
as the depth-charges exploded, a large jagged piece of metal flew
into the air and soon the U-boat began to settle by the stern, surrounded by foam and bubbles. In a second attack depth-charges
straddled the U-boat, and a few minutes later the Liberator crew
saw it break in half; the stern and bow rose well out of the sea and
then sank inwards almost vertically.
By the end of October all attempts by the German submarines
to stage co-ordinated attacks on convoys were being frustrated, and
in the following month not a single ship was lost on the North
Atlantic convoy routes while nine more U-boats were sent to the
bottom. In fact, such was the strength of the joint air and sea
defences that never again was the enemy able to launch any large-scale attacks on shipping in this area.
See maps facing p. 411.
During the closing months of 1943 the Allies were able to
strengthen their position in the Atlantic by an arrangement with
the Portuguese Government which enabled aircraft to operate from
the Azores. By November two squadrons of Fortress bombers and
one of Hudsons were using the airfield at Lagens. Not only were
these aircraft able to cover ships in mid-Atlantic but they also
protected convoys proceeding between Gibraltar and the United
Kingdom. These had now been routed farther westward owing to
renewed activity by German long-range aircraft operating from
bases in the south-west of France.
The New Zealanders who went with the Fortress squadrons to
the Azores found the climate a pleasant change from the gales and
storms of the Hebrides, although the conditions under which they
lived and operated were at first rather difficult. However, within a
few days of their arrival the aircrews were active in escorting
convoys and hunting U-boats in that area. No. 220 Squadron also
flew meteorological flights to the west, providing information which
had previously been denied.
Throughout the winter months the German U-boat Command
maintained a policy of the utmost caution, operating their submarines only where the Allied defences were weakest – in the Indian
Ocean and the centre of the Atlantic. The air patrols from the
United Kingdom now became extremely monotonous for the air-
crew, with little incident to break the dull routine of escort and
anti-submarine search. Even in the Bay of Biscay the offensive
flagged considerably for the U-boats were making the passage to
and from their bases either at night or in thick weather and poor
visibility. During the whole of December only six attacks were made
from the air against U-boats in the Biscay area and of these all
but one were at night.
At Gibraltar and along the West African coast the story was
much the same, crews spending many hours on uneventful patrols.
It was a dull, uninteresting job but, recognising its necessity, the
crews continued their work in good spirit, always hoping that some
U-boat, less cautious than the rest, would show itself on the surface
and provide opportunity for an attack. In West Africa there was
a short alarm when a ship was torpedoed off Freetown at the
beginning of December, and for a few days an extensive hunt was
maintained in which No. 490 New Zealand Squadron played a
prominent part and was congratulated on its achievement of record
flying during the period. In his December report Wing Commander
Nicholl,
Wing Commander B. S. Nicholl; born Christchurch, 5 Dec 1906; joined RAF1931;
transferred RNZAFJan 1940; commanded RNZAF Fiji, 1943; No. 490 (NZ) Sqdn,
W. Africa, 1943–44.
who had now just assumed command of the squadron,
rather aptly summed up the role of the anti-submarine squadrons
at this time: ‘This game is rather like cricket – the runs saved in
the field count just as much towards winning the game as the runs
made off the bat. The main thing is that we are helping to keep
them under, and sinkings of merchant vessels are very rare.’
Yet while large convoys continued to pass across the oceans unmolested and the steady build-up of supplies and men in the United
Kingdom proceeded apace, enemy propaganda, while admitting
that Allied counter measures had gained a temporary advantage,
suggested that it would not be long before German ingenuity would
restore the balance. On 20 January 1944 Admiral Doenitz declared
at a conference in Stettin: ‘The enemy has succeeded in gaining the
advantage in the submarine war, but the day will come when I
shall offer Churchill a first-rate submarine war. The submarine
weapon has not been broken by the set-backs of 1943.’ The threat
was not altogether without foundation for the Germans were now
experimenting with an entirely new type of submarine capable of
high underwater speeds. Apart from this a large portion of
Germany's war effort was still directed towards new U-boat pro-
duction, and in an effort to minimise the effects of bombing parts
of the vessels were being prefabricated in factories scattered all
over Germany and then rushed to the shipyards for assembly. The
Germans had also begun fitting a new device known as the
‘Schnorkel’ to their old U-boats which would enable them to remain
submerged for long periods.
The ‘Schnorkel’ consisted of air intake and exhaust tubes which could be raised at periscope depth. The U-boat could then recharge batteries and change the air while it remained
just below the surface. The two tubes were within a single casing hinged to the deck just
forward of the bridge; when raised and in use the tip of the intake tube was level with the
top of the periscope while the exhaust tube, a few inches shorter, discharged the burnt
gas downwards. At periscope depth with the Schnorkel raised and diesel engines running
a U-boat could charge her batteries and make three or four knots simultaneously.
However, before any new campaign could be launched it became
clear to the Germans that, with an Allied invasion of the Continent
imminent, their U-boats would have to be preserved for defensive
operations against this threat. In the meantime all that could be
done was to tie down the Allied forces, keeping them engaged but
avoiding unnecessary losses. This meant that the German U-boat
fleet was, for the time being at least, virtually immobilised and the
Allies, now possessed of greatly increased air and naval power, and
encouraged by the enemy's reluctance to renew the Atlantic battle,
were able to complete their preparations for the invasion of Europe
with their sea communications safe from serious disruption.
CHAPTER 3
Bomber Command and the Battle of the Ruhr
At the beginning of 1943 the British bomber force was still the
main offensive weapon in the hands of the Allies. Indeed, for
some four years after the withdrawal of the British Army from
Dunkirk, the bomber aircraft remained the only means of attacking
Germany since the Mediterranean campaigns, although invaluable
in bleeding Germany of some of her best manpower and material,
were until the later stages essentially defensive. Throughout all
those years, apart from the bomber offensive, British forces could do
no more than nibble at the fringes of German-occupied territory.
The operations of Bomber Command, however, passed through
many different phases before they became a potent factor in the
achievement of victory. The earlier years were a long-drawn-out
struggle to build up an effective force and to overcome the difficulties associated with night bombing. Frequently the offensive was
checked by the diversion of the bomber force to defensive tasks and
there was uncertainty both in policy and its application. Many were
the authorities who found what they considered ‘essential’ jobs for
the bombers to carry out. Experts in economic war thought out one
class of industrial target after another, the destruction of which
would, they argued, cripple the German war effort. The experts in
maritime war called for attacks on the enemy ports, on ships in
harbour, on U-boat bases and shipbuilding yards. The experts in
land warfare called for attacks on tank factories, on fuel dumps,
ordnance depots and so on; even the experts in air warfare had
their own target systems as part of their campaign for air superiority.
In fact, nearly everyone had vital jobs for the bomber force which,
small as it was, could not do all the many things regarded as
‘essential’ but which were otherwise impossible.
Unfortunately the accuracy of the early bombing had been
greatly overestimated. Economic intelligence had been seriously at
fault, and the ability of the Germans to counter the bombing raids
and to repair damage was not fully appreciated. And when the
spectacular results which some had been led to expect failed to
materialise there were doubts, criticisms, and even opposition in
some quarters regarding the whole bombing campaign. The early
enthusiasm faded and the bomber offensive became a hard-fought
battle in which new and ever-changing tactics had to be hammered
out by hard-won experience. Weather, phases of the moon, distance
of targets, enemy fighter strength and tactics, defence organisation
for guns, searchlights, radar and fighter control; ever-changing
techniques of navigation, target marking and bombing — all these
factors had played a part in the development of the campaign. The
‘thousand bomber’ raids of mid-1942 and the formation, in August
of that year, of the special pathfinder force for target finding and
marking were two outstanding achievements of the early period.
Nevertheless, to develop the equipment and technique and to train
the aircrews to attain a high degree of accuracy in the face of enemy
opposition and under all weather conditions continued to be a long
and difficult struggle fought at great cost, and it was not until the
middle of 1943 that it became possible to deliver a heavy attack in
Germany with real precision.
Like the blockade by the British Navy in the First World War
and by the German U-boats in the early stages of the second, the
effects of the bomber offensive were only gradual, slowly cumula-
tive, and therefore difficult to discern. There were no spectacular
advances over large tracts of enemy territory; no towns or fortresses
were captured with large numbers of the enemy made prisoner.
Only by degrees was the enemy's industrial capacity and his ability
to make war undermined. Yet the damage inflicted by the bombing
was not confined to that which could be seen and photographed. It
was reflected with equal significance in the way the German Air
Force was driven from the offensive to the defensive both in its
operations and in new construction, and compelled to concentrate
more and more of its resources on the protection of Germany
against bombing attacks from the west to the benefit of the Allied
forces engaged on other fronts.
A force of over 600,000 in 1943 and nearly one million in 1944
was maintained to man the anti-aircraft defences – not far short of
the peak total strength of the RAF all over the world. Anti-aircraft
guns took an ever-increasing part of Germany's total weapon pro-
duction,
A United States post-war survey calculated that the strength of the artillery provided for
the German Army might have been doubled if it had not been necessary to provide AA
guns in quantity for the defence of the home front against air attack.
while the German night-fighter force which had grown
from virtually nothing to 150 in November 1940 and 250 by July
1942 now rose to 550 by July 1943, 800 by the spring of 1944, and
1250 by the end of 1944.
A vital battle – the battle for air superiority, for the initiative in
the air – was also to be fought out in the skies over German terri-
tory. This battle against the German Air Force and the attack on
the enemy's production resources and communications were closely
interlocked, for as the Allies gradually gained air superiority so
automatically was the power of the bomber force increased for
destroying the enemy's means of production and the communications on which they depended. Herein lay the essence of a successful air offensive. And now in the fourth year of war, when the
Allies at last possessed the means to put it into greater effect, an
attack, massive, sustained and compelling, began to fall upon
Germany. To Bomber Command of the Royal Air Force it had fallen
to lead the way and blaze the trail in this great but hazardous
venture of war. The path which it had opened was soon to become
a busy highway along which powerful forces would advance resolutely towards their goal.
* * * * *
Appalling casualties had been suffered in the land battles of the
First World War. Of one single day's fighting on the Somme in
July 1916 it is recorded that when ‘Night closed over the still-thundering battlefield …. nearly 60,000 British soldiers had fallen,
killed or wounded, or were prisoners in the hands of the enemy.’ In
the first five days of the Somme battle nearly 100,000 of our best
troops were lost and ‘the ground conquered was … so limited both
in width and depth as to exclude any strategic results.’
Churchill, The World Crisis, 1916–1918 (Thornton Butterworth), Part I, pp. 179–80.
It was partly
to avoid the repetition of such loss and slaughter as took place at
Passchendaele, Verdun, and the Somme that the Allied leaders
meeting at Casablanca in January 1943 had decided to postpone an
invasion of the Continent and to intensify the air offensive from
the United Kingdom. The ultimate object of this aerial onslaught
was stated as ‘the progressive destruction and dislocation of the
German military, industrial and economic system and the under-
miningundermining of the morale of the German people to a point where their
capacity for armed resistance is fatally weakened.’ Europe was a
fortress which must be subjected to vigorous bombardment before
a final assault by the Allied armies could be practicable. To make
that assault before the time was ripe would be suicidal for the
Allied cause and of no assistance to Russia.
The bomber offensive planned at Casablanca was to be a joint
Allied effort in which the operations of the RAF night bombers
would be supplemented by American day bombers. But the American
bomber force in Britain was still small and the combined offensive
did not really begin until June 1943 when the American forces had
been substantially augmented and detailed plans had matured.
Meanwhile the operations of the American 8th Air Force continued
to be essentially experimental, with its bombers gradually extending
the scope of their effort to Germany, adjusting their tactics and
techniques, and feeling out the quality of German opposition. There-
fore, during the first half of 1943, the main effort against Germany
was undertaken by Royal Air Force Bomber Command under Air
Marshal Arthur Harris.
Harris had been in charge of the British bomber force for less
than a year. Appointed at a time when Bomber Command was at
a most difficult period in its development, he was both by training
and temperament well fitted to fill this hard post, for he was an
expert in air matters and much of his twenty-five years' experience
with the RAF had been gained in operating bombers both by day
and by night. He sincerely believed that the bombing could shorten
the war and save terrible casualties in land battles. His fierce
honesty of purpose and singleness of mind drove him to demand the
utmost of his crews, but at the same time, with equal vehemence,
he strove to move mountains on their behalf and get the weapons
and aids they required. He was accused of ruthlessness and
frequently blamed for shortcomings of a policy that was not
altogether of his making. Yet the respect and admiration which this
grim and formidable leader won from his men was well demonstrated not only at various gatherings both during and after the
war but also by the confidence with which his directions were
followed even when they involved heavy casualties. He bore heavy
responsibilities which imposed a strain different from that imposed
upon naval and land commanders, for the bombing offensive was
continuous and involved the committal to action night after night
of a force of some five or six thousand highly trained and skilled
men, in machines whose value might well exceed fifty million
pounds.
The declarations of the combined Allied Chiefs of Staff at
Casablanca regarding the bomber offensive from the United Kingdom were more a statement of policy than a specific directive, and
even the subsequent orders to Air Marshal Harris were in the broadest terms. Bomber Command was to proceed with ‘the progressive
destruction and dislocation of the German military, industrial and
economic system’, giving priority to certain aspects of it, such as
U-boat and aircraft construction, transportation, oil production, and
targets in the enemy war industry. This was interpreted by Harris
as meaning the destruction of principal industrial centres in
Germany, and since the Ruhr was by far the most important, he
regarded it as a principal objective.
However, for tactical reasons, Harris was forced to conduct the
offensive more in accord with the general aim than with any special
type of target laid down. Among the factors which affected his
choice of targets were the weather in different parts of enemy
territory, the disposition of the enemy defences, the radio aids available and their limitations, together with intelligence gained of the
effect of operations and the relative importance of various targets.
Up to 1943 the choice of target on any particular night had been
severely limited by the weather, but with improvement in pathfinder
and bombing techniques following the introduction of new radar
aids, the weather over the target area became less important. Operations could now be carried out on a greater number of nights and,
since moonlight and clear skies were not so essential, it was possible
to operate in conditions less favourable to the enemy night fighters.
All the same the skill with which the enemy directed his defences and
the steady increase in their strength meant that frequent changes
of tactics and targets had to be made.
The planning of each bombing raid was a complex affair. Early
in the day the Commander-in-Chief would meet his staff officers
in the Operations Room of Bomber Command's headquarters on the
outskirts of London. The weather forecasts for the Continent and
also for bases in England would be considered along with intelligence reports before the night's target was finally chosen. Then the
route for the bombers was decided upon, special attention being
given to the time that the aircraft would spend over enemy territory,
the avoidance of heavily defended areas, and methods of deceiving
the German night-fighter force. The Commander-in-Chief finally
fixed the aiming point, the size of the force to be despatched, and
the bomb load to be carried. After discussion with the groups
concerned an operation order was passed to them; then further
instructions went to the stations where the detailed plans were
worked out according to the pathfinder tactics that were to be used.
During the earlier years the results of bombing had been assessed
from crew reports which in the enthusiasm of the moment had often
proved inaccurate. By 1943, however, large numbers of night photographs were being taken showing the actual release of the bombs by
each aircraft. From these photographs an assessment of the bomb
concentration and of the area attacked could be made and immediate
lessons drawn as to the advantages of different tactics. For example,
it was soon found that aircraft reaching the target in the later stages
of a raid tended to undershoot on the markers owing to the large
area of fire usually visible by then. This was corrected either by
varying the direction of approach of the later waves or by instructing the later marker aircraft to place their target indicators behind
the aiming point. Daylight reconnaissance was usually made within
a few days of a raid and the interpretation of the photographs taken
gave a fair assessment of the damage done. It was then possible to
judge whether further attacks on the same target were necessary.
Yet owing to the extraordinary speed with which repairs were
effected by the Germans, even this judgment was, as post-war
investigation reveals, frequently too optimistic.
The British bomber force, with a long-deferred expansion of
strength at last becoming effective, was now better equipped for its
avowed task of ‘beating the industrial life out of Germany’. During
1942 there had been no significant increase in the number of aircraft
but a major part of the force had been re-equipped with heavy
bombers. Moreover, subsequent expansion was such that, by the
beginning of March 1943, the front-line force included 380 heavy
and 160 medium bombers.
There was also the considerable force of light bombers in No. 2 Group but their operations
were essentially different from those of the heavier bombers and are therefore discussed
in a later chapter.
Within another three months there was
a force of nearly 800 aircraft, of which just over two-thirds were
heavy four-engined bombers, Lancasters, Halifaxes and Stirlings.
Yet while this increase in numerical strength was impressive, the
outstanding feature of the period was the substantial rise in bomb
lift following the change from medium to heavy bombers, with the
Lancasters, superior in both operational height and bomb capacity at
long range, emerging as the mainstay of the force. The Lancaster
was to prove a magnificent machine. It was subsequently employed
in many different roles, in massive saturation raids, in precision
attacks such as that which sank the Tirpitz, for low-level raids on
German power supplies and the Moehne Dam; it supplied the
underground armies of Europe, supported the Allied armies, and in
the final stage fed starving Holland and carried home British
prisoners of war. Pilots liked the Lancaster's manoeuvrability, the
excellent all-round vision from its cockpit, its instant response to
the controls, and the rugged construction which enabled it to absorb
much punishment in combat and yet bring its crew home.
Altogether it was to prove a worthy successor to the faithful
Wellington which had been the mainstay of Bomber Command in
the earlier years and which, in fact, was still employed on operations
until October 1943.
* * * * *
A considerable contribution to the expansion of Bomber Command during 1943 was made by the Commonwealth countries,
notably by Canada, Australia and New Zealand. Canada now
provided a whole bomber group which was completely maintained
by the Canadian Government. The substantial part played by both
Australia and New Zealand was less evident, for although certain
squadrons were identified with each country the majority of their
men were scattered among RAF units. Had the New Zealanders
who flew with Bomber Command during 1943 been more concentrated in squadrons, their numbers would have been sufficient to
provide crews for more than 200 bombers in any one raid. As it
was they were to be found in almost every unit, usually flying in
crews made up of men from various parts of the Commonwealth.
And in addition to the men engaged in flying duties, there was a
substantial number who shared in vital maintenance work on the
airfields. New Zealanders were also employed in a wide variety of
posts in the vast and complex bomber organisation – of planning,
operational control, technical development, training and various
staff duties. Several veteran pilots were in command of RAF bomber
stations and squadrons, notably Air Commodore A. McKee who
was in charge of the large operational airfield at Downham Market
in Norfolk, Group Captain S. C. Elworthy who now became Station
Commander at RAF Waddington, Lincolnshire, from which three
squadrons of Lancasters operated, and Wing Commander Dabinett
Group Captain H. I. Dabinett; RAF; born Taranaki, 11 Jul 1905; joined RAF1930;
commanded No. 115 Sqdn, 1940; No. 12 Sqdn, 1942–43; No. 82 OTU, 1944, and No. 27
OTU, 1945.
who continued to lead No. 12 Lancaster Squadron.
The New Zealand Stirling Squadron was to play a prominent
part in the bomber offensive during 1943 and further increase the
reputation it had gained in the earlier years. Flying under the apt
motto, Ake Ake Kia Kaha – ‘For ever and ever be strong’ – No. 75
was now led by Wing Commander Lane,
Wing Commander G. A. Lane, DFC; born Clapham, London, 13 Apr 1916; joined
RAF1937; CFI No. 22 OTU, 1942; commanded No. 75 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943; served RAF
Delegation, USA, 1944–45.
an Englishman with
considerable experience in bombing operations. His flight commanders were Squadron Leader Allcock,
Wing Commander G. M. Allcock, DFC and bar; born Wellington, 14 Dec 1916; joined
RAFAug 1939; CGI No. 1651 Conversion Unit, 1942–43; No. 7 Sqdn, 1945.
a New Zealander who had
joined the Royal Air Force before the outbreak of war and served
in the Middle East before returning to win further distinction with
a Stirling squadron, and Squadron Leader Fowler
Squadron Leader G. E. Fowler, DFC; born Chellaston, Derbyshire, 22 Jun 1911; joined
RAFSep 1939.
of Chellaston,
Derbyshire, who had previously completed his first tour of operations with No. 75 Squadron. During 1943 just over 300 New
Zealanders, aircrew and ground staff, served with the squadron,
and while New Zealanders were predominant among the aircrew,
the presence of men from Britain, Australia, and Canada preserved
the Empire character of the unit which had been a pleasant feature
of the earlier years.
At the beginning of 1943 No. 75 Squadron was emerging from
a very trying period of three months in which there had been a move
to a new base, a change in aircraft and, in relation to the number
of operations, heavy casualties, including the loss of a popular commanding officer. But the aircrews were now more familiar with the
four-engined Stirling bombers that had replaced the Wellingtons
with which the squadron had been associated since its formation.
Initial mechanical failures in the new machines, the cause of so much
disappointment and frustration to all members of the unit, were
being overcome by the ground crews, after much persistent effort,
and the men were more accustomed to surroundings which were in
direct contrast to those at the peacetime stations of Feltwell and
Mildenhall, their previous bases.
There were good reasons for the feeling of strangeness which
had been experienced. Indeed, it is doubtful whether any other
operational squadron flew from an airfield less warlike than that
now occupied by the New Zealand Squadron at the Rowley Mile on
the famous racecourse at Newmarket. Some of the aircrew were
billeted in a wing of the Jockey Club and their mess was a mile
away in the grandstand of the racecourse where the ground staff
were accommodated. The grandstand itself was, as a senior officer
put it, ‘a rabbit warren of a building with three floors housing
billets, dining rooms, kitchens, recreation rooms and workshops. All
windows were blacked out and it was quite easy to lose oneself in
the labyrinth of rooms, passages and stairs.’ The briefing room was
at first in the saddle room, which still retained the large brackets on
which saddles had been hung, while the operations room was located
in the cream and gilt weighing-in room. When the briefing room was
later moved to what had been a lavishly equipped cocktail bar, the
serious business of briefing a bomber squadron for action provided
a sharp reminder of the gulf which existed between the days of
peace and war.
After a quiet beginning in January, when severe winter weather
restricted activity, No. 75 Squadron was to operate intensively
during the following months, and by the end of July a total of nearly
seven hundred sorties had been despatched in eighty-seven raids,
during which the Stirlings dropped 1285 tons of bombs and laid 604
mines. Unfortunately the unit again suffered heavy casualties, thirty-five aircraft being lost during these seven months.
When the squadron resumed full-scale operations in February,
Nuremberg, Turin, and the Rhineland city of Cologne were among
the targets attacked. But the main effort, in common with that of
most other squadrons in Bomber Command, was concentrated on
enemy U-boat bases in Occupied France and on construction facilities in German ports. By the end of the month aircrews had more
confidence in their new aircraft, while the ground staff, in mastering
the technical difficulties which had beset them with the introduction
of the Stirling, succeeded in maintaining a high level of aircraft
serviceability. The squadron was then ready to take a leading part
in the offensive against German industry in the Ruhr and Rhineland
which was to be the principal feature of Bomber Command's operations during the first half of 1943.
With RAF squadrons in Bomber Command, many New
Zealanders were to win distinction during 1943 as captains of air-
craft, navigators, bomb aimers, wireless operators and air gunners.
Several men were outstanding, notably Squadron Leader Thiele,
Squadron Leader K. F. Thiele, DSO, DFC and two bars; born Christchurch, 25 Feb
1921; journalist; joined RNZAFDec 1940; commanded No. 3 Sqdn, 1945.
as
flight commander and captain of a Lancaster in No. 467 Australian
Squadron; Squadron Leader St. John
Wing Commander J. R. St. John, DSO, DFC and bar; RAF; born Nelson, 13 Mar 1917;
dental mechanic; joined RAF1937; CI No. 1656 CU, 1943–44; commanded No. 103
Sqdn, 1944–45.
in similar duties with No. 101
Lancaster Squadron, and Squadron Leader Silcock
Squadron Leader C. K. Silcock, DFC and bar; born Brightwater, Nelson, 4 May 1915;
engraver; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
with No. 44
Rhodesian Squadron, also flying Lancasters. Special commendation
for his part in difficult and hazardous missions of which little was
heard at the time was won by Squadron Leader Boxer,
Wing Commander A. H. C. Boxer, DSO, DFC, Virtuti Militari (Pol.); Bronze Star
Medal (US); RAF; born Hastings, 1 Dec 1916; joined RAF1938; commanded No. 161
Sqdn, 1944–45.
who led a
flight in No. 138 Halifax Squadron. His unit was one of several
engaged in supplying the underground armies of Europe and
dropping and picking up Allied agents, missions which often
involved long flights over enemy territory. Boxer was later to command a squadron engaged in these ‘special duties’, as they had come
to be known.
Other bomber captains who established a particularly fine record
of achievement at this time were Squadron Leader Starky
Squadron Leader J. B. Starky, DSO, DFC; born Gisborne, 10 Nov 1916; farmer; joined
RNZAF1940.
with No.
115 Lancaster Squadron and Squadron Leader B. G. Wallace
Squadron Leader B. G. Wallace, DFC; born Invercargill, 6 Nov 1914; salesman; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
with
No. 214 Stirling Squadron; Flight Lieutenants D. C. MacKenzie
Squadron Leader D. C. MacKenzie, DFC; born Wellington, 26 Aug 1921; clerk; joined
RAFJun 1940; killed on air operations 12 Jun 1943.
and J. B. Smith
Flight Lieutenant J. B. Smith, DFC; born Dunedin, 23 Aug 1916; optician; joined
RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 10 May 1944.
and Pilot Officer C. M. Wallace
Flying Officer C. M. Wallace, DFM; born Cooktown, Queensland, 20 Nov 1915; metal
polisher; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
were also
prominent as captains with an Australian squadron and Squadron
Leader D. W. S. Clark
Wing Commander D. W. S. Clark, DFC and bar; born Surbiton, Surrey, 18 Jan 1916;
joined RAF1939; transferred RNZAFAug 1944; commanded No. 77 Sqdn, 1944–45.
with a Canadian unit.
Few brothers probably shared war experience to the same extent
as Flying Officers Anthony
Flight Lieutenant A. M. Singer, DFC; born Weybridge, Surrey, 25 Nov 1918; agricultural
student; joined RNZAFJun 1941.
and Peter Singer,
Flight Lieutenant P. L. Singer, DFC; born Weybridge, Surrey, 25 Nov 1918; agricultural
student; joined RNZAFJun 1941.
twin brothers from
Gisborne, each of whom now captained a Lancaster in No. 57
Squadron. They had joined up at the same time, trained together
in New Zealand and England and then piloted aircraft in the same
squadron, very often flying over the same target within a few
minutes of one another. They both flew on twenty-nine raids and
finished their first tour of operations by bombing Dortmund in May
1943. Both brothers were then awarded the Distinguished Flying
Cross and went on to take the same instructors' course. Subsequently,
they returned to operations with a Lancaster squadron and survived
the war to return together to New Zealand.
Navigators to achieve distinction during 1943 were Flying Officer
Sheild
Flight Lieutenant H. J. Sheild, DFC and bar; born Patea, 30 Sep 1916; commercial
artist; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
with No. 149 Squadron and Flight Lieutenant Fowler
Squadron Leader L. G. Fowler, DFC; born Auckland, 20 Nov 1912; clerk; joined
RNZAFMar 1941.
with
No. 90 Squadron, while among the New Zealand air gunners, Flight
Sergeant de Joux,
Flying Officer E. E. de Joux, CGM, DFM; born Edinburgh, Scotland, 27 Jan 1921;
joined RAFMay 1940; transferred RNZAFJun 1944.
who was credited with the destruction of five
night fighters, continued a most successful operational career with
No. 102 Halifax Squadron. He was awarded the Conspicuous
Gallantry Medal in November 1943. Pilot Officer Florence,
Pilot Officer R. Florence, DFM; born New Plymouth, 15 Dec 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 18 Nov 1943.
who
flew many sorties with No. 214 Lancaster Squadron, was among
those who distinguished themselves as bomb aimers. Towards the
middle of the year he joined No. 617 Squadron – ‘The Dam
Busters’ – only to lose his life in a November attack against the
Antheor Viaduct on the Riviera route into Italy. The Lancasters had
flown on to land in North Africa and it was during the return
flight that Florence's aircraft was lost.
New Zealanders also continued to be prominent in the pathfinder
squadrons, which contained picked crews specially trained in target
location and whose aircraft were equipped with the newest aids to
navigation and bombing as they became available. Among those who
were to achieve particular distinction during 1943 were Squadron
Leader Barron
Wing Commander J. F. Barron, DSO and bar, DFC, DFM; born Dunedin, 9 Jan 1921;
clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1940; commanded No. 7 Sqdn, 1944; killed on air operations,
20 May 1944.
and Flight Lieutenant Kearns,
Squadron Leader R. S. D. Kearns, DSO, DFC, DFM; born Reefton, 9 Mar 1920;
student; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
who captained heavy
bombers, Squadron Leader Ball,
Squadron Leader W. A. C. Ball, DFC; born Palmerston North, 14 Sep 1916; insurance
clerk; joined RNZAFOct 1939; killed on air operations, 9 Mar 1943.
Flight Lieutenants Gray,
Flight Lieutenant E. McL. Gray, DFC; born Cambridge, 22 Mar 1920; clerk; joined
RNZAFDec 1940; killed on air operations, 4 May 1943.
Hilton,
Flight Lieutenant F. Hilton, DFC; born Coventry, Warwickshire, 15 Dec 1918; carpenter;
joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 25 Jun 1943.
Martin,
Flight Lieutenant B. Martin, DFC; born Waiau, 23 Nov 1911; diesel engineer; joined
RNZAFSep 1940; killed on air operations, 2 Feb 1943.
and Flying Officer Barclay,
Flight Lieutenant W. J. M. Barclay, DFC, DFM; born Dunedin, 13 May 1921; clerk;
joined RNZAFNov 1940.
who flew as navigators, and
Flying Officer Marshall
Flying Officer J. Marshall, DFC; born London, 1 Aug 1920; engraving apprentice;
joined RNZAFDec 1939.
and Warrant Officer Barnham,
Warrant Officer J. E. Barnham, DFC; born Christchurch, 5 Nov 1920; salesman; joined
RNZAFApr 1941.
wireless
operators and gunners. All these men had been with the Pathfinder
Force during the pioneering period in 1942. Only four of them
survived the war.
Others who won commendation as captains of pathfinder aircraft
were Flight Lieutenant Moore
Flight Lieutenant V. S. Moore, DSO, DFC, DFM; born New Plymouth, 15 Dec 1912;
diesel engineer; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
of No. 83 Squadron, Flight Lieutenant Petrie
Flight Lieutenant J. R. Petrie, DFC; born Foxton, 11 Aug 1917; labourer; joined RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Dec 1943.
of No. 7 Squadron, and Flying Officer Matich
Flight Lieutenant N. Matich, DSO, DFM; born Te Kopuru, 25 Jul 1917; shop assistant;
joined RNZAFAug 1941.
of
No. 35 Squadron. Moore survived many hazardous missions to
complete a long period of operations with the Pathfinder Force;
Petrie lost his life whilst leading an attack on Berlin in December;
Matich was also shot down towards the end of the year but he
escaped serious injury, evaded capture, and got back to England.
There was now a relatively large group of New Zealanders with
No. 156 Lancaster Squadron, where Squadron Leader Mandeno,
Squadron Leader G. L. Mandeno, DSO, DFC and bar; born Frankton, 5 Jun 1914;
engineer; joined RAF1940; transferred RNZAFJul 1945.
Flight Lieutenants Sullivan,
Flight Lieutenant M. A. Sullivan, DFC; born Whakatane, 28 Jan 1920; timber yardman;
joined RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 20 Dec 1943.
Thomson
Flight Lieutenant J. F. Thomson, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 31 Aug 1918; clerk;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
and Wright
Squadron Leader J. L. Wright, DSO, DFC; born Tirau, 24 Feb 1914; clerk; joined
RNZAFDec 1940.
were
prominent as captains, Squadron Leader Hall
Squadron Leader H. R. Hall, DFC; born Palmerston North, 21 Oct 1913; bank officer;
joined RNZAFDec 1939.
and Flight Lieutenant Kelly
Squadron Leader C. W. B. Kelly, DSO, DFC; born Christchurch, 11 Jun 1920; porcelain
enameller; joined RNZAFSep 1940.
as navigators, and Pilot Officer Crankshaw
Flying Officer K. A. Crankshaw, DFC, DFM; born Greymouth, 12 Dec 1921; garage
storeman; joined RNZAFNov 1940.
as air
gunner. In No. 35 Squadron Flying Officers Jamieson
Flight Lieutenant H. A. Jamieson, DFC; born Pukekohe, 18 Aug 1918; truck driver;
joined RNZAFNov 1940; p.w. 12 Jun 1943.
and
Robson,
Flying Officer T. A. Robson, DFC; born Christchurch, 12 Mar 1914; window dresser;
joined RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 20 Dec 1943.
Warrant Officer Dowman,
Warrant Officer M. G. F. Dowman, DFM; born Inglewood, 5 Oct 1916; labourer;
joined RNZAFMar 1941; died 2 Jan 1948.
and Flight Sergeant Ridings
Flight Sergeant D. G. Ridings; born Auckland, 12 Sep 1921; grocery assistant; joined
RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 4 May 1943.
won distinction as wireless operators and air gunners.
The Pathfinder Force, whose formation and early operations have
been described in the previous volume, was now organised as a
separate group in Bomber Command under its original leader, the
Australian pilot Air Commodore Bennett,
Air Vice-Marshal D. C. T. Bennett, CB, CBE, DSO, Order of Alexander Nevsky
(USSR); born Toowoomba, Australia, 14 Sep 1910; served RAF 1931–35 and transferred
RAAF 1935; a founder of the Atlantic Ferry, 1940–41; rejoined RAFSep 1941; commanded No. 77 Sqdn, 1941; No. 10 Sqdn, 1942; AOC No. 8 Pathfinder Group, Bomber
Command, 1943–45.
and to the initial five
squadrons a further Halifax and Lancaster squadron were added
in April; then three months later came two more Mosquito squad-
rons. There was also a gradual re-equipment of the original units
with Lancasters.
The pathfinder crews, it will be remembered, preceded the main
force in order to mark the target by means of flares and ground
markers. But their early operations had revealed an urgent need for
devices that would enable them to find targets on moonless nights
or in cloud and then mark them so unmistakably that a large main
force could follow and deliver heavy and concentrated attacks.
Before the end of the previous year ‘Gee’, of which so much had
been expected, had been reduced to a valuable aid to navigation
on which limitations of range could be imposed by enemy jamming,
but trials with various other bombing aids had so progressed that
they were now ready for use on operations. The first, known as
‘Oboe’, had already been tried out towards the end of December
1942 in an attack against the power-station at Lutterade. Then, on
16 January during a raid on Berlin, the long awaited TI ground
markers were introduced, followed by a second new radar aid
known as ‘H2S’
A code name apparently derived from ‘Home Sweet Home’, because it helped bombers
to home on to their targets.
on the night of 30 January when Hamburg was
the target.
These new technical aids which began to reach Bomber Command
at the beginning of 1943 were of even greater importance to the
success of its operations than the increase in its size. The bomber
force could now be concentrated both in time and space to produce
the maximum effect with a minimum of loss, for it had long been
known that the saturation of the German defences – night fighters,
anti-aircraft guns and searchlights – was the secret of economy.
Moreover, with this concentration, effective radio counter measures
could be taken. Specially equipped aircraft and ground stations were
now better able to jam the signals of enemy fighters and their
control and thus screen the British bombers from identification for
part of their flight towards Germany.
Oboe was a system for guiding a pilot to his target along a radio
beam, and was so named because the tone of the guiding radio beam
was similar to that of the musical instrument. Briefly, its operation
depended on the re-radiation by the aircraft of radar signals sent
out to it, and from the echoes the position of the machine flying
along a certain beam could be calculated. There were two ground
stations. One controlled the aircraft by signalling a system of dots
and dashes whenever it deviated to the left or right of a given
course. Simultaneously, the second station measured at intervals how
far the aircraft had proceeded, and when it was directly over the
target a special signal would be sent for bombs or markers to be
released.
The chief disadvantage of Oboe was that each pair of ground
stations could handle only one aircraft at a time, and then the aircraft had to fly on a steady course for a considerable distance as it
approached the target. This made the machine extremely vulnerable.
Further, the range of the system was limited by the height at which
the aircraft could fly because, owing to the curvature of the earth,
the transmissions from the ground stations followed a straight line
and had therefore to be received at an ever greater height as the
aircraft's distance from the station increased. The first difficulty was
dealt with by gradually increasing the number of ground stations
to control at least sufficient aircraft for marking a target, whilst
the risks entailed by the necessary straight and level approach were
reduced by using the fast and high-flying Mosquito aircraft.
Oboe had developed out of the methods used by the RAF to
interfere with the beams used by the German bombers as navigational aids for the attacks on Britain during the second winter of
the war. In the early stages of its development the device had been
considered simply as an aid to blind bombing, and the fact that
only a handful of aircraft could be guided by it in any one attack
seemed a fatal objection. But by the end of 1942 Bomber Command
was no longer thinking in terms of thousands of bombers, with each
crew finding the target by themselves, but of a smaller force being
directed to an area which had been marked by very few aircraft.
Thus a navigational and bombing aid which could be used by no
more than a single squadron seemed likely to change the whole
course of the bomber offensive, which indeed it certainly did.
From the beginning of 1943 No. 109 Mosquito Squadron of the
Pathfinder Force which had been experimenting with Oboe from
the initial stages was used whenever possible to mark the bomb-release point for the main force. Another Oboe-equipped unit, No.
105 Mosquito Squadron, was added in July, but for the remainder
of the year those two squadrons provided the sole Oboe force of
Bomber Command. Flying Officers Dray
Flight Lieutenant A. A. Dray, DFC; born Cambridge, 1 Nov 1917; grocery manager;
joined RNZAFAug 1941.
and Leigh
Flying Officer R. E. Leigh; born Auckland, 3 Mar 1921; clothing cutter; joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 10 Feb 1944.
were pilots
and Flight Lieutenant Patrick
Squadron Leader G. A. Patrick, DSO, DFC and bar; born Dunedin, 25 Nov 1919;
clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
flew as navigator with No. 109
Squadron during the pioneering period with this new device.
H2S, the second radar aid, was an entirely different device from
Oboe in that it was quite independent of ground stations, the apparatus being carried wholly within the aircraft. It was, in fact, similar
to the radar equipment already in use by Coastal Command for
the detection of submarines and other vessels at sea. For some
time it had been known that radar impulses transmitted from an
aircraft gave back varying echoes from water, open country or built-up areas, and the picture given on the screen by these echoes was
gradually improved until it was possible to identify coastlines,
rivers, towns, and eventually even individual factories; thus targets
and navigational pinpoints could be identified in total darkness or
through cloud. Nor was this system limited by range. But on the
other hand, its operation required far greater experience than did
the Oboe and its effectiveness in Bomber Command was therefore
not so immediate. Indeed, a considerable period was to elapse before
the aircrew operators acquired the necessary experience and before
the definition of the reflected picture was sufficiently improved for
it to be both accurate and reliable.
H2S largely depended for its eventual success upon the magnetron
valve, which was capable of producing far higher power than any
other contemporary valve. It was one of the most brilliant inventions
of British science and indispensable for many forms of airborne
radar, since it enabled a powerful transmission to be made from a
piece of equipment small enough to be easily carried in an aircraft.
There was at first much alarm at the prospect of it getting into
enemy hands for it was proving invaluable in the Battle of the
Atlantic. Indeed, a serious controversy which extended to both sides
of the Atlantic over the release of the equipment to Bomber Command was settled only by the British War Cabinet Chiefs of Staff
Committee meeting under the Prime Minister towards the end of
December 1942.
At first the supply of H2S sets was restricted and Bomber Command was unable to take advantage of the fact that this device
could be used by an unlimited number of aircraft at the same time.
It was not until September 1943 that all the heavy bombers of the
Pathfinder Force were so equipped. In the meantime H2S, like
Oboe, had to be employed as a pathfinder device and tactics based
on its use by a small number of aircraft.
Unfortunately, in the early stages of its use the apparatus was
liable to fail even more often than the Oboe equipment, and with
so few aircraft equipped with H2S this meant that far too few target
indicators were burning at any given moment during an attack.
Another cause of early failure was that the special target maps were
found in some cases to be out of date. These special maps had been
prepared with the built-up areas drawn to look as far as possible
like the actual image that would appear on the radar screen in the
aircraft, but on several occasions the Pathfinders mistook a newly
built-up area which was not marked on their maps for the actual
target. Moreover, it was found that the relation between the real
shape of a town and the image of it that appeared on the H2S
apparatus varied according to the angle or direction from which the
town was viewed. Indeed, it was most difficult to predict exactly
how any particular town was going to show up on the screen so that
only the most experienced and skilful navigators were able to achieve
real accuracy. It was soon found that the difference between land
and water showed up far more clearly than the difference between
built-up areas and open country, which meant that coastal targets
could be more easily identified than those inland. Targets in small
towns were also more readily found than in large cities because it
was fairly easy to identify a town as a whole but much more difficult to distinguish any particular area in a large city from the city
as a whole. Altogether it was some time before H2S was used
effectively and its tactical development during 1943 was a slow
process marked by many disappointments.
Oboe, on the other hand, proved its value immediately. During
January, when only a few Mosquitos were equipped with the
necessary apparatus, the period when marking could be maintained
was limited. Therefore a series of small experimental raids was
launched in which these Oboe-equipped aircraft marked the target
for a following force of fifty to sixty heavy bombers. Essen was the
principal objective of these raids. This large industrial city, home
of the huge Krupps armament works and an important centre of the
German mining industry, had been the most frequently bombed
town in Germany up to this time. Yet because of the industrial
haze and smoke which almost invariably covered the Ruhr area and
made identification of landmarks extremely difficult, the attacks had
caused little damage. This difficult target was therefore an ideal
one on which to experiment with the Oboe bombing aid.
The eight small attacks which took place in January 1943 were
remarkable for it was estimated that by the despatch of 418 sorties
and the loss of only eighteen machines better results were achieved
than in all the raids against Essen in the previous year. After the
attack on the night of 9 January the photographs revealed that
sixty per cent of the bombs had fallen within three miles of the
centre of the city, a percentage that was three times greater than
the best hitherto recorded. Attacks on Dusseldorf and Duisburg
showed similar promise.
Among the New Zealanders to take part in the repeated attacks
on Essen was Flight Sergeant Rowsell
Flight Lieutenant A. R. Rowsell, DFM; born Rawene, 7 Mar 1917; timber worker;
joined RNZAFOct 1940.
of No. 207 Squadron who
distinguished himself during the first operation on the night of
3 January. The Lancaster in which Rowsell flew as wireless operator was intercepted by night fighters, and during their attacks he
acted as fire controller from the astro-dome with good effect and
the enemy aircraft broke off the attack. The rear gunner had been
wounded and was trapped in his damaged turret but with the aid
of an axe Rowsell managed to get him free. As the elevators had
been damaged and the Lancaster was difficult to control through
being excessively tail heavy, he then helped to rig up the spare
trailing aerial on to the control column so that the bomb aimer
could pull on the aerial and relieve the pilot of some of the strain.
Rowsell then returned to his wireless set to obtain a diversion to an
airfield where there was good visibility, and the bomber finally
landed safely.
Unfortunately, it was not possible to follow up the success against
Essen immediately with further attacks on the Ruhr as for the next
two months the effort of Bomber Command was devoted mainly
to the U-boat war with attacks on the submarine bases in the Biscay
ports and construction facilities at Hamburg, Wilhelmshaven, and
Bremen. The reasons for this diversion of effort and the results
achieved have already been related in the previous chapter. How-
ever, on several nights when weather did not favour the offensive
against the U-boats, it was possible to deliver attacks on Cologne
and Nuremberg. Cologne, scene of the first ‘thousand bomber’ raid
and an important commercial and industrial centre in the Rhineland,
was attacked on three occasions during February, altogether 831
sorties being despatched for the loss of twenty-four bombers.
The early months of 1943 were also notable for the resumption
of raids against Berlin, which had not been heavily attacked since
the end of 1941 owing to the serious casualties suffered by Bomber
Command in the early raids. Berlin had been allotted high priority
throughout 1942, and in the autumn of that year the Commander-
in-Chief was continually pressed to renew the attack as soon as the
nights lengthened sufficiently to bring the city within range. But
Harris had consistently resisted these proposals for he considered
that little damage would result and that there was a serious risk
of incurring heavy casualties. He maintained that, with several
hours' flying over strongly defended areas, a certainty of strong
night-fighter activity and the size of the German capital, not only
were heavy bombers needed for a successful raid but also that only
Lancasters could be sent there with any reasonable degree of safety
and economy of force. In the last attack in December 1941, out of
140 bombers despatched only half of them had reached the target
and twenty-one had been lost.
But now that the Command's expansion was becoming a reality
it was possible to raise a substantial force of Lancasters; therefore,
on two consecutive nights in January, Berlin was attacked by forces
of 201 and 187 Lancasters. Unfortunately haze and snow, which
always made it more difficult to see the outlines of a built-up area,
prevented the Pathfinders from identifying the aiming point, and
although several important factories were hit the damage was
scattered. On the first night the enemy's fighters made scarcely any
interception, and though the flak was heavy and the force too small
to saturate it, only one Lancaster was missing. The next night the
weather and the light proved favourable to the enemy; night fighters
operated in strength and twenty-two bombers were lost.
Flight Lieutenant Keith Thiele captained a Lancaster from No.
467 Australian Squadron on both these raids against Berlin. On the
first night during the approach to the target his rear gunner lost
consciousness through lack of oxygen. Thiele went on to attack
whilst two of his crew endeavoured to assist the rear gunner out
of his turret and render first aid. As soon as the bombs had been
dropped, Thiele took the Lancaster down through the flak and
searchlights in an attempt to save his gunner's life. This action did
not succeed in reviving the gunner so Thiele carried him to the
pilot's seat, no mean feat in a Lancaster in flight. Artificial respiration was then continuously applied during the return flight which
Thiele maintained at low level. Unfortunately the crew's efforts
were unsuccessful and the squadron diary records ‘an unfortunate
loss to a very gallant crew after a very successful sortie.’
Among the aircraft which returned damaged that same night was
a Lancaster of No. 101 Squadron captained by Sergeant Ralph.
Flight Lieutenant J. C. Ralph, DFM; born Christchurch, 26 Dec 1919; motor-parts
salesman; joined RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 3 Jan 1944.
Over Berlin his bomber was hit by flak and the starboard petrol
tanks holed but Ralph got clear and completed the long flight back,
landing the damaged machine safely, despite very poor visibility.
Ralph had already completed twenty sorties with his squadron.
Early in the previous December when returning from an attack on
Frankfurt, he had displayed outstanding skill and airmanship in
landing his machine safely at base with both port engines failing.
Three further heavy raids on Berlin were made during March
1943 in an effort to follow up victories on the Russian front and,
with the effort of the Lancasters supplemented by Stirlings and
Halifaxes, a total of just over eight hundred sorties was despatched.
In the second attack on 27 March one of the Stirlings from No. 15
Squadron carried a ‘National Savings’ bomb from London. The
captain was Pilot Officer Renner,
Flight Lieutenant I. W. Renner, DFC; born Gisborne, 26 Jan 1917; farmer; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
a twenty-six-year-old New
Zealander who had been a farmer in Hawke's Bay before the war.
His bomb aimer, wireless operator, and gunner were also New
Zealanders, and a Canadian navigator and a flight engineer from
London completed the crew.
‘I think this trip to Berlin, our twenty-second “op” on Stirlings, gave us
most satisfaction,’ writes Renner. ‘A Wings for Victory week had been held
in London's Trafalgar Square during which three large bombs had been
plastered inches thick with Savings Stamps by the British public on the
promise that they would be duly delivered with the bomb. At the end of
the week two of the bombs were hurried to our Station and one found its
way into our aircraft which we had named Te Kooti, after the famous Maori
chief. Three times the raid was postponed. We became quite attached to our
bomb and each day the bomb-aimer would go round to make sure it was still
loaded on Te Kooti. The third night we were actually on the move when
the red light shot up from the control tower and we rolled off the runway
and back to dispersal unable to express our feelings of frustration. The next
night, amid rain and sleet, we got off. Icy clouds kept us down to two
thousand feet until we got over Denmark where we were able to sneak a
little more height. Then over the Baltic the clouds broke up and we were
able to reach Berlin at a reasonable height to deliver our bomb. The German
defences, although formidable, did not seem so concentrated as those we
knew so well in the Ruhr, but the searchlights made us feel awfully bare.’
New Zealanders also flew on each of the four major raids that
were launched against Italy during the early months of 1943, when
the principal objectives were the industrial centres of Milan and
Turin and the naval base at Spezia where units of the Italian fleet,
including three battleships, were sheltering. A few hours before
the first attack on Spezia Flying Officer Pethick
Flight Lieutenant A. F. Pethick, DFC; born Hastings, 19 Apr 1920; retail manager;
joined RAFApr 1940.
of No. 1409
Meteorological Flight carried out a reconnaissance of the area and
also took photographs of great value. ‘He flew an unarmed
Mosquito and displayed determination and skill in avoiding inter-
ception,’ says an official report. ‘On reaching the French coast on the
return flight his aircraft developed engine trouble and there was
complete failure of all electrical and wireless equipment, but he
landed safely in England. His information led to the heavy and
successful raid on Spezia that night.’ Between June 1942 and October
1943 Pethick made almost ninety long-range ‘met’ flights, many of
which involved deep penetrations of enemy territory in unarmed
aircraft.
Although casualties were light the missions to Italy were not
without incident. After the raid on Milan in mid-February one
Lancaster had just crossed the Alps on its return flight when an
engine suddenly caught fire. The pilot, Flight Sergeant Whyte,
Flying Officer J. H. F. Whyte, DFC; born Greymouth, 11 Jan 1917; clerk; joined
RNZAFApr 1941.
put
the bomber into a dive in an effort to extinguish the fire by the rush
of air. Unfortunately, however, this proved unsuccessful and the
flames began to envelop the wing; Whyte was just able to control
the aircraft sufficiently for the crew to leave by parachute. He then
followed them out and came down in hilly country to the west of
Dijon. With the help of the French partisans Whyte was able to
evade capture, and after many adventures finally made his way back
to England, where he returned to operations and completed a
second tour.
Early in March 1943 Bomber Command was able to turn its
attention to the Ruhr and the next four months saw one of the most
dramatic battles of the air war – a battle in which a veritable fortress
was assaulted from the air in a series of short but intense actions
of almost incredible ferocity.
* * * * *
The relatively small but compact area of the Ruhr was of vital
importance to the German war machine, for within its boundaries
lay a great many of the factories that forged the guns, tanks, and
engines of war upon which the enemy forces depended. Moreover,
as the largest centre of heavy industry and coal-mining in Europe,
the Ruhr not only provided finished products of all kinds but almost
the whole of the coal and steel needed by other industries in
Germany for the production of war material. It was indeed ‘the
smithy of the German Reich’, and as such it had always been
regarded as an objective of prime importance for the British
bomber force. However, in the early years, with small and relatively
weak forces lacking reliable navigational aids, the odds had been
heavily against successful attacks. Apart from the distance to be
flown over enemy territory and the strong ground defences in the
Ruhr, the hundreds of factory chimneys continuously belching smoke
produced a thick and persistent haze which made it almost impossible
for crews, even on a moonlight night, to pick out a given aiming
point. Moreover, in the important target of Essen situated in the
centre of the Ruhr, there was not one prominent landmark, and the
city itself was very similar in appearance to others in the valley.
Indeed, it was difficult at night, even in clear weather, to see where
one Ruhr town ended and the next began because of the many settlements and industrial buildings which covered much of the intervening ground. The Germans also went to considerable trouble to
produce effective decoys and to camouflage what few distinctive
landmarks there were.
The introduction of Gee as a navigational aid early in 1942 had
led to optimistic hopes of achieving a higher degree of accuracy
in raids on the Ruhr, but these hopes had been disappointed for at
that extreme range and in the face of strong defences its accuracy
proved considerably less than expected and the bombing was still
very scattered. But now, in March 1943, with Pathfinder Mosquitos
equipped with the Oboe device to lead a stronger bomber force,
there was better prospect of finding and accurately marking targets
so that a large proportion of the bomb load would be concentrated
near the aiming point.
This renewed Battle of the Ruhr, as it may well be termed, opened
in the first week of March and continued until the end of July.
During that period the towns heavily attacked included Bochum,
Dortmund, Duisburg, Essen, Gelsenkirchen, Mulheim and Ober-
hausen; the great Rhineland centres of Cologne and Dusseldorf,
which although not in the Ruhr were part of the same industrial
complex; Krefeld, Munster, Remscheid and Wuppertal, not
primarily concerned with heavy industry but important for the
manufacture and transport of vital war materials. Altogether 15,504
sorties were flown in major raids against these towns and 42,348
tons of bombs were dropped for the loss of 718 aircraft.
The initial attacks on Essen were more or less typical of those
which followed throughout the Ruhr and Rhineland. In the first
raid on the night of 5 March a total of 442 bombers was despatched.
In the main force there were 140 Lancasters, 89 Halifaxes, 52
Stirlings and 131 Wellingtons, while the Pathfinder marking force
consisted of 22 heavy bombers and 8 Oboe-equipped Mosquitos
on which, and on the equipment they carried, the success of the raid
almost entirely depended.
The attack, by far the most important carried out by Bomber
Command up to this time, followed a carefully prepared plan. After
making a landfall at Egmond on the Dutch coast, the bombers
flew directly to a point 15 miles north of Essen, which point Pathfinder heavies marked with yellow route markers on the ground as
a guide to the main force. From there the crews began the run-up
to the target which they were to reach at the rate of eleven a minute,
the whole attack being planned to last thirty-eight minutes. Flying
in ahead the Oboe Mosquitos dropped red target indicators on the
aiming point before the bombing began and then at intervals during
the attack. This renewal of the marking was limited by the fact that
the Mosquitos could only be guided over the target at the rate of
one every five minutes by the ground stations with which they were
in communication. There were as yet only two pairs of ground
stations in operation and, while they could guide twelve Mosquitos
over the target in an hour, there was the risk that there would be
intervals when no target indicators were burning on the ground.
Therefore, the twenty-two heavy bombers of the Pathfinder Force
acted as ‘backers-up’ throughout the attack, dropping a large number
of green indicators aimed at the red ones which the Mosquitos had
dropped. Thus the bomb aimers of the main force, if they could not
see the more accurately placed red target indicators, could at least
aim at the more plentiful green ones. In this way it was hoped that
there would be a clearly distinguishable mark at which to aim at
every moment during the attack.
In the event the marking was most accurately done by the Pathfinders and the bombing which followed was well concentrated.
Soon innumerable fires sprang up around the markers until there
was an almost solid ring of flame two miles in diameter. The
municipal archives of Essen afterwards revealed that half of the
bomb load had, in fact, fallen in the centre of the city, and such
was the concentration of the bombing force that only fourteen aircraft were missing from this raid.
Five more attacks were launched against Essen in the next few
months, and by the end of July both the huge Krupps works covering
several hundred acres in the centre of the city and the town of Essen
itself contained large areas of devastation. There was also serious
damage to gas, water and electricity facilities.
‘The last raid on Essen,’ records Goebbels in his diary on 28 July, ‘caused a complete
stoppage of production in the Krupps works. Speer is much concerned and worried.’
This had been
brought about by 3260 sorties with the loss of 138 aircraft, as
against 3720 sorties despatched during 1942 with the loss of 201
aircraft which did no significant damage to Krupps and little to the
town of Essen. After the 1943 attacks, although repairs were pushed
forward vigorously, some factories never resumed production.
Among them was the largest single unit in the whole Krupps works,
the huge Hindenburg Hall where locomotive construction ceased
after the second attack in March and was never restarted in spite
of the fact that this work then had equal priority with aircraft,
tanks and submarines. Other major war requirements whose production was seriously reduced as a result of Bomber Command's
attacks at this time included shells, fuses, guns and aero-engine parts.
But Essen was only one of many targets, and from the middle of
March to the end of July the attack on the Ruhr was pressed with
the greatest vigour, all the chief industrial areas being attacked in
turn. Many of the raids were remarkably successful in causing widespread destruction but they did not always go according to plan.
Although provision had been made for the unexpected arrival over
the target of cloud thick enough to hide the ground markers, there
were occasions when even the use of ‘skymarkers’ – a kind of firework which floated slowly down and made a point of aim above
the clouds – was not enough to save an operation from failure. This
was when the tops of the clouds were so high that the skymarkers
fell into them and were quickly lost – as happened one night towards
the end of May when there was cloud up to 20,000 feet over Dussel-
dorf. Bomber Command was, in fact, not yet wholly independent
of the weather.
* * * * *
The Battle of the Ruhr was fought by Bomber Command with
mounting casualties in the face of an opposition which grew steadily
in strength and skill, for the arsenal of the Ruhr was exceptionally
well defended by guns, searchlights, night fighters, observation and
radar posts, and decoys of various kinds. By the summer of 1943
the area had well over one-third of the total anti-aircraft guns available in Germany. British crews called it ‘Happy Valley’ – a grim
euphemism for a region which could become a better reproduction
of Dante's Inferno than any of the other well-defended parts of
Germany.
As the battle developed it became a colossal battering match
between air and ground, with the ground defences trying to blast
the invaders out of the sky and the bombers trying to smother the
defence under the weight of their attack. As the first aircraft
approached, hundreds of searchlights would come on at once and
soon the whole sky would be filled with bursting shells, so that
the bombers had to drive forward through a barrage of fire and
steel. ‘The searchlights, in huge cones, made a wall of light through
the Valley,’ declared one Lancaster captain after the second heavy
raid against Essen. ‘Intense flak was being directed into the centre
of each cone and one got the impression that the defences were
being very intelligently directed. They were certainly ready for us
and as we flew in I saw other bombers twisting and turning in the
searchlight beams.’ Outside the circle of light night fighters waited
to pounce upon crippled machines or the unwary crew. Many
bombers returned with parts of their wings or fuselage torn to
shreds, flying back, as a popular song of the period put it, ‘On a
Wing and a Prayer’. Others were shot down over the target or,
mortally damaged by flak and night-fighter attack, crashed on enemy
territory; a few struggled gamely back over the enemy coast only to
be forced down in the North Sea.
During the attack on Remscheid one Lancaster of No. 50
Squadron was just turning away after dropping its bombs when it
was coned by searchlights. The pilot, Flight Sergeant Cole,
Flying Officer M. M. Cole, DFM; born Carterton, 29 Oct 1914; joined RAFJun 1941.
succeeded in getting clear but a few minutes later the bomber was
again caught in the blinding glare of the lights and then hit by
flak. The rear gunner was killed. The Lancaster turned over on its
back and petrol poured out of one of the tanks. Cole managed
to regain control, but shortly afterwards an engine caught fire and
became useless. The bomber then proved so unstable in flight that
he ordered his crew to stand by to bale out while he struggled with
the damaged controls. Eventually, by lashing back the rudder pedal
with a leather strap and by careful piloting, Cole managed to keep
his machine airborne and get back across the Channel to make a
forced landing in England.
Typical of many other eventful flights was the experience of
Squadron Leader Thiele and his crew in the attack on Duisburg
early in May. When nearing the city their Lancaster was severely
damaged by a shell bursting right underneath the fuselage. Thiele
carried on to bomb his target, but during his final approach the
aircraft was caught in a cone of searchlights. Shells began to burst
all around but Thiele maintained his straight run. Then just as the
bomb aimer let the bombs go the machine was again hit, one burst
completely destroying the starboard outer engine. Almost
immediately afterwards the starboard inner engine was hit and put
out of action and the side of the aircraft ripped open along the
pilot's and bomb aimer's compartments. Although dazed by a shell
splinter which had struck him on the side of the head, Thiele
managed to keep control and complete the long homeward flight.
Unable to maintain height after crossing the British coast, he
made a masterly crash-landing without injury to his crew. This was
the second occasion on which Thiele had brought his aircraft back
on two engines.
There were occasions during the battle when the fury of the onslaught temporarily overwhelmed the German defences. After the
attack on 26 April against Duisburg – the largest inland port in
Germany – the Air Ministry reported: ‘The Germans seem to have
packed the area with heavy anti-aircraft guns and searchlights.
Outside the town there was a belt of lights with others inside it,
while hundreds of guns put up one of the heaviest barrages which
our bombers had encountered. But in spite of their great strength
the defences were unable to cope with the attack. Pilots who went in
towards the end of the raid reported that the barrage had fallen off
considerably.’ By that time the port was ablaze with large red fires
and looking, as one observer described it, ‘like a cauldron bubbling
with angry molten metal which spurted up every now and then as
more and more bombs exploded.’
In the attack against Dortmund on 23 May more than two thousand tons of high-explosive and incendiary bombs were dropped
within an hour, and the effect of this terrific onslaught was to crush
most of the life out of the defence. ‘Flak was fairly intense at the
beginning of the raid,’ said the RAF bulletin issued the following
day, ‘but as the attack developed the flak died down considerably,
cones of searchlights split up and single lights appeared to be
waving aimlessly about the sky.’ Nevertheless, thirty-eight of the
eight hundred bombers despatched were lost. Clear weather in the
target area had assisted co-operation between guns and searchlights
in the early stages of the raid, and on the return flight from Germany
intense fighter activity persisted well out over the North Sea.
Four nights later just over five hundred bombers swept in ten
waves over Essen within the space of fifty minutes. Crews reported
that the anti-aircraft fire was particularly violent and to reach the
target they had to penetrate a thick curtain of searchlights and
bursting shells; it was estimated that the intense flak was responsible
for at least three-quarters of the 107 aircraft damaged on the raid.
This was in addition to the twenty-two bombers which failed to
return.
As the battle continued, British crews encountered stronger opposition from the ground defences while the onset of summer, with
shorter and lighter nights, gave the German fighters better opportunities for interception. On 24 June, when the industrial centre of
Elberfeld was the target for 630 bombers, scores of night fighters
were in action and many bitter duels were fought. In addition, the
British crews met a very heavy barrage and more searchlights than
ever as they approached their objective. ‘Great belts of searchlights,
twenty to thirty in each cone, tried to pick us up and intense anti-aircraft fire came up the beams,’ reported one Stirling captain. ‘The
defences of Dusseldorf and Cologne appeared to be co-operating
in a desperate attempt to beat off the raiders.’ Throughout the return
flight the enemy defences were active, and altogether eighty-seven
of the bombers came back damaged while a further thirty-three did
not return at all.
Night fighters were particularly active a few nights later when
another heavy attack was launched against Cologne. There was
much cloud over the Rhineland and the searchlights therefore were
at a disadvantage, although the guns maintained a powerful barrage
and heavy flak came up through the clouds. It was above the cloud
bank that the most bitter fighting occurred. The Northern Lights
lit up the sky and many of the bombers were silhouetted against the
cloud surface below. For the German fighters the conditions were
almost ideal and they attacked in strength. One pilot declared that
he saw nine combats going on almost simultaneously. Twenty-five
British bombers were lost in this raid and a subsequent analysis of
crews' observations of aircraft shot down indicated that seventeen
of these fell victim to German fighters.
Flight Lieutenant Mandeno and his crew of No. 156 Pathfinder
Squadron were in action this night. Just after leaving Cologne their
Lancaster was intercepted by a German night fighter and in a typical
sudden attack the elevators and tail plane were damaged, one of
the engines was hit and a petrol tank punctured. Rear guns were
out of action but the fire of the mid-upper gunner and evasive turns
by Mandeno were successful in shaking off the fighter. Only a few
nights earlier Mandeno had displayed a similar skill when his
bomber was attacked on the outward flight. He had then carried on
to his target.
The Lancaster of No. 101 Squadron captained by Squadron
Leader St. John narrowly escaped destruction towards the end of
June. Caught in searchlights over Holland while on the outward
flight to Mulheim, the bomber was first attacked by a Junkers 88
which inflicted extensive damage. Then, after diving to 3000 feet,
it was again attacked, this time by a Dornier. The German got in
a short burst but the Lancaster replied and scored hits. Meanwhile
the Junkers which had followed the Lancaster down continued to
fire and set the starboard outer engine alight. With his machine
still losing height, St. John was forced to jettison his bomb load in
order to make good his escape. He then set course for base with
one rudder, both turrets unserviceable, and the fuselage and both
petrol tanks badly holed. In addition, one of the elevators was
partly shot away and the controls almost severed and jammed. This
made it impossible to bring the control column further back than the
central position. ‘Despite this situation,’ says an official report,
‘Squadron Leader St. John, with great skill and ability, brought his
aircraft back and landed it safely.’ When the crew came to leave
their machine they found a gaping hole where the door had been
and most of the tail unit shot away.
There were many such incidents in which the enemy fighters were
cheated of their prey. That same night, for example, Flight Lieu-
tenantLieutenant Wilkie
Flight Lieutenant H. C. Wilkie, DFC; born Raetihi, 11 Jan 1923; farmhand; joined
RNZAFSep 1941; killed in flying accident, 18 Apr 1944.
and his crew of No. 15 Stirling Squadron succeeded
in evading persistent attacks by a German night fighter and flew on to
complete their mission. Only a few days previously when attacking
Dusseldorf, they had seen the propeller of one engine shot away.
When Pilot Officer Robinson,
Pilot Officer C. H. Robinson; born Christchurch, 16 Dec 1917; civil engineer; joined
RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 22 Jun 1943.
a captain with No. 158 Squadron,
returned from the attack on Bochum he told how, whilst evading
continuous attacks by two Messerschmitts, ‘one cannon shell had
zipped down the fuselage between his legs, struck the air gunner
a glancing blow on the head – literally parting his hair – and then
passed out through the perspex nose.’
Inevitably some crews were less fortunate in their encounters with
night fighters over Germany. Of those who survived when their
machines were driven down, the experiences of Flight Sergeant
McLeod
Warrant Officer W. M. McLeod; born Waimate, 24 Jun 1919; livestock clerk; joined
RNZAFAug 1941; p.w. 4 May 1943.
are fairly typical. Early in May while flying out to bomb
Dortmund, the Lancaster of which he was captain was attacked by
a night fighter shortly after crossing the Dutch coast:
The aircraft's electrically operated equipment and inter-communication
were completely put out of commission. The starboard motors both lost all
power, the elevators would not respond and consequently the plane went
into a dive. It was soon clear that the machine was out of control and being
unable to jettison our bomb load did not help matters. At approximately
9000 feet, I roared to the bomb-aimer, who was sitting next to me in the
second pilot's seat, to pass the word back to bale out. Unfortunately he had
been wounded in the shoulder but managed to pass the message to the crew.
Our load, which consisted of incendiaries and 1000 lb. bombs, had been
straffed. This caused the cockpit to be filled with smoke which made the
abandoning of the aircraft rather difficult. I was eventually assured that the
rest of the crew had parachuted out and so, without hesitation, I made the
plunge into the darkness. It was only a matter of seconds before I felt the
sudden jar and the relief of knowing that the chute had opened – a moment
of stress I certainly would not like to happen again in a lifetime.
During my descent I was unfortunate enough to get caught in a searchlight,
an experience I should imagine similar to walking down the Strand in the
nude. My first thoughts were of being put out of my misery by the night
fighter, but luck was with me and the glare passed over. I landed in a Dutch
canal and what with endeavouring to find my footing, parachute cords and
equipment, I threshed the water for some time before I realised that it was
just slightly over my shoulders. At last I waded out on to the bank but
unfortunately I had lost my escape equipment in my efforts to reach dry
land.
The night was dark and overcast, so I was utterly confused with direction.
After about two hours' walking I noticed that further over there seemed to
be a small village on the edge of the canal. Everything was in quietness so
I stayed about trying to locate a suitable place for cover. Then towards the
direction I had come I saw several lanterns moving about so decided to
chance knocking on the door of the nearest house. I was rather surprised at
the prompt response. A man fully dressed in working clothes called out. I
replied “Anglais” and he then went in and after a minute or two returned
and gestured to me to enter. This bucked me up considerably as I was sure
I had struck help. They offered me a cup of coffee and slice of black bread
which were very acceptable. After much waving of the hands I managed to
convey to them that I was an airman. It was then that they awoke their
son who would be about 12 years old and able to speak a few words of
English. Eventually he produced the school atlas. I then pointed from
England to Holland but they shook their heads and the boy disappeared to
return with a Dutch policeman who could speak fluent English. It was then
that my hopes were dashed to the ground; he informed me that they would
very much like to assist me but owing to the prevailing control by the
Germans and the bad time they had recently undergone, they regretted that
they would have to give me over. About an hour later the Germans arrived
and that was that.
Fate was kinder to Flight Sergeant Hodge,
Flight Sergeant R. A. Hodge; born Wellington, 16 Jun 1918; cabinetmaker; joined
RNZAFJul 1941; killed in flying accident, 17 Mar 1944.
who flew as wireless
operator in a Stirling of No. 149 Squadron. He was the sole survivor
when his machine burst into flames after an attack by night fighters
during the outward flight to Cologne early in July. Hodge landed
in a field near a small village in Holland. He was badly burned and
had sprained his ankle. Hearing somebody coming towards him he
attempted to run away, but was overtaken by a man who proved
friendly and took care of him at his home. Thereafter he received
further assistance which enabled him, after a series of adventures,
to return to England three months later.
* * * * *
During the Ruhr battle heavy attacks were made against other
German towns in order to keep enemy anti-aircraft and fighter
defences dispersed. Had attacks been directed solely against the
Ruhr the Germans would have been able to concentrate more of
their defences in that area and the losses sustained by Bomber
Command would have been proportionately heavier. Therefore, in
addition to raids on Berlin and the German ports and U-boat bases,
targets in southern Germany were attacked, among them the industrial centres of Frankfurt, Mannheim, Stuttgart and the cities of
Munich and Nuremberg, both of which had strong political associations with the German Nazi Party. In addition, there were two
major raids against the huge Skoda armament works at Pilsen in
Czechoslovakia.
Typical of many eventful flights during these raids was the
experience of Flight Lieutenant Scott
Squadron Leader A. R. Scott, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 21 Nov 1919; physical
instructor; joined RNZAFAug 1941.
and his crew of No. 90
Squadron in mid-April. Eight miles short of the target their Stirling
was attacked by two enemy fighters; one engine was damaged, the
rear turret was put out of action, and a flare ignited in the flare
chute. But eventually Scott managed to shake off his assailants and
make good his course to the target. Then just after the bombs had
fallen the Stirling was hit by flak; the controls were damaged and
the propeller and part of the damaged engine fell off. After a few
hectic moments Scott steadied his machine, got clear of the target
area and, after a difficult flight, brought the crippled bomber safely
in to land at his base. More unusual was the experience of a New
Zealand wireless operator, Flight Sergeant Sibbald,
Flying Officer D. A. Sibbald, DFM; born Christchurch, 14 Jun 1922; clerk; joined
RNZAFFeb 1941.
who flew with
No. 35 Squadron of the Pathfinder Force. Whilst flying back from
the raid against Nuremberg early in March, his Halifax was hit
and set on fire and the crew forced to escape by parachute. Sibbald
outwitted the enemy search parties, made good his escape, and
returned to the United Kingdom seven weeks later. Another successful evader at this time was Sergeant Morley
Pilot Officer N. Morley; born Otane, 23 Dec 1912; driver; joined RNZAFJul 1941.
of No. 7 Squadron
whose Stirling was shot down during its homeward flight from
Stuttgart in mid-April. Morley landed safely by parachute in France
and after an adventurous journey, partly on foot and partly by train,
reached Switzerland three weeks later.
A young air gunner, Sergeant Wilson,
Flight Sergeant H. A. Wilson, GM; born Thames, 13 Dec 1920; farmer; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
who flew with No. 214
Squadron, played a gallant part in an episode early in March when
his Stirling, while taking off for the attack on Munich, was unable
to gain height and crashed near the airfield. The bomber was
completely wrecked and burst into flames. Most of the crew were
able to scramble clear when the aircraft broke up but the mid-upper
gunner was trapped against the main spar, unconscious and hanging
head downwards. He was found by the captain of the bomber, who
was unable to move him, so Wilson went to assist him. The aircraft,
loaded to capacity with high-explosive bombs, was now burning
furiously with bullets exploding in rapid succession, but eventually
they succeeded in extricating the injured man. In so doing both
Wilson and his captain, who had so far escaped with only gashes
and bruises, were badly burnt about the face and body. Nevertheless,
they succeeded in carrying their comrade through fences and over
a deep ditch to a safe distance just before the aircraft blew up. Then,
although dazed from the shock of the crash and almost exhausted
by his rescue efforts, Wilson staggered off across ploughed fields
in search of help and eventually, by blowing the whistle attached
to his tunic, succeeded in bringing rescuers to the scene. Only a
fortnight previously Wilson had been involved in an incident which
necessitated his baling out. He now received the award of the
George Medal.
These attacks on more distant targets in southern Germany were
led by Pathfinder aircraft using H2S but, because of limited experience with this device, the marking was less accurate and the attacks
themselves less spectacular than those against the Ruhr, which was
within Oboe range. Nevertheless, they caused considerable destruc-
tion. At Nuremberg, for example, in the early March raid by three
hundred aircraft, the main weight of the bombing fell upon the
industrial districts to the south-west of the town. Serious damage
was done to the large MAN factory which made diesel engines;
in the Siemens electrical works two-thirds of one workshop, covering five acres, was destroyed and other buildings in the factory were
gutted. At the railway workshops one large repair depot covering
several acres was destroyed and another area of devastation was
revealed in the neighbouring railway siding. In addition, a number
of establishments manufacturing tools and engineering supplies were
severely damaged, many of the buildings being completely burnt
out. Fires were still smouldering when the town was photographed
from the air two days after the raid.
Unfortunately, at both Nuremberg and Munich, there was also
considerable damage to historic and cultural buildings from scattered
bombing. This was regrettable not only for the intrinsic loss but
also because it provided material for the German propagandists,
whose cries had become much louder as the damage to their war
industries increased. Yet both cities had been regarded as legitimate
targets because of their important war industries. At Munich there
were factories which constructed both submarine and aero engines,
tanks, armoured cars, grenades and motor tires. The city was also
an important communication centre. Whether these cities could
have been left unmolested on account of their particular historic
and art treasures is doubtful in view of the considered policy of
the Allied leaders.
At the time, the Germans made the most of such damage and the
casualties caused by the RAF and, in an effort to restrict the attacks,
their propaganda machine was turned on at full blast. The Italian
radio also joined in the chorus of misrepresentation and vilification
and shrill voices were raised in protest at what were described as
‘terror raids’ having no object but the destruction of cities and the
slaughter of women and children. All this was not without its effect
in Britain, where it aroused considerable discussion regarding the
ethics of bombing and some misgivings as to its use. But the responsible leaders remained firm in their conviction that, however much
the sufferings of the civilian population were to be deplored, it was
essential for Britain to use her air power – her only weapon capable
of hitting Germany directly – to end the war as soon as possible.
And whatever may be thought in these later years, it is well to
remember that the German conversion to humanitarian sentiment
had come rather late. It should have taken place four years earlier
before the bombing of Warsaw, before the massacre of 20,000
Dutch folk in defenceless Rotterdam or the wreaking of a cruel
vengeance on Belgrade. It is also worth recalling that in those early
days German propaganda films were wont to show rows of their
great bombers being loaded up with bombs, then flying in the air
in battle array and finally casting down showers of bombs upon
towns and villages, choking them in smoke and flame. Glorying in
devastating violence, the Germans had sought to impress upon the
world that resistance to their will was impossible.
Among the men of Bomber Command many felt deeply on these
matters, but they were realists. They knew that the conflict could
not be waged without suffering and regarded the loss of life in
German cities as a regrettable but inevitable consequence of aerial
bombardment under prevailing conditions. Certainly they were far
less bloodthirsty than some whose activities were far less intimately
concerned with the tragic realities of modern war.
* * * * *
During the five months in which the Battle of the Ruhr was
fought the New Zealand Squadron was represented in all the
principal raids, with Essen, Duisburg, Dortmund, and Dusseldorf
among the targets most frequently bombed. With a third flight of
eight aircraft now operational, the squadron was also able to
increase its contribution to the offensive. There was a change of
command early in May when Wing Commander Lane was succeeded
by Wing Commander Wyatt,
Group Captain M. Wyatt, DFC; born High Barnet, Hertfordshire, 24 Nov 1911; joined
RAF1936; commanded No. 75 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943; No. 514 Sqdn, 1944; Asst Director
of Navigation (Met.) 1945 and 1946–47; Air Attache, Stockholm, 1948–50.
an English pilot with long experience
in bombing operations. After one early raid on Italy he had made a
forced landing in Spain, evaded internment, and made his way back
to England.
The three flight commanders were Squadron Leaders Andrews,
Squadron Leader F. A. Andrews, DFC; born Auckland, 17 Feb 1919; school teacher;
oined RNZAFNov 1939.
Broadbent,
Squadron Leader R. Broadbent, DFC; born Wanganui, 23 Aug 1919; clerk; joined
RNZAFNov 1939.
and Laud.
Squadron Leader R. H. Laud; born Auckland, 20 May 1916; joined RAF1938; killed
on air operations, 12 Jun 1943.
Unfortunately Laud, who had served with
the RAF from the beginning of the war, was lost during a raid on
Dusseldorf towards the middle of June. He was succeeded by
Squadron Leader Joll,
Squadron Leader J. Joll, DFC, DFM; born New Plymouth, 10 Apr 1920; mechanician;
joined RNZAFJan 1940.
who was on his second tour of operations
with No. 75 Squadron. Andrews had also carried out his first tour
with the squadron while Broadbent had previously flown with No.
40 Squadron. A move from Newmarket to RAF Station, Mepal, at
the end of June was not allowed to interfere with operations, and
by the close of the Battle of the Ruhr No. 75 Squadron had
despatched 225 aircraft on eighteen major raids to drop 566 tons
of bombs. Seventeen Stirlings were missing from this series of
missions but three German fighters were claimed destroyed.
The Squadron was particularly unfortunate during attacks against
Wuppertal at the end of May and on Mulheim in June when, on
each occasion, four aircraft failed to return. Among the crews lost
were twenty-eight New Zealanders including six captains, Flying
Officer Vernazoni,
Flying Officer R. B. Vernazoni; born Auckland, 20 Feb 1923; clerk; joined RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 30 May 1943.
Pilot Officer Bennett,
Pilot Officer R. F. Bennett; born Otahuhu, 20 Oct 1913; clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1941;
killed on air operations, 30 May 1943.
Pilot Officer F. M.
McKenzie,
Pilot Officer F. M. McKenzie; born Dannevirke, 18 Nov 1916; printer; joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 23 Jun 1943.
Flight Sergeants Burbidge,
Flight Sergeant K. A. Burbidge; born Byfleet, Surrey, 15 Apr 1921; assistant surveyor;
joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 23 Jun 1943.
Carey
Flight Sergeant J. H. R. Carey; born Westport, 2 Jul 1915; electric welder; joined
RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 30 May 1943.
and Thornley.
Flight Sergeant S. R. Thornley; born Invercargill, 1 Feb 1918; upholsterer; joined
RNZAFJan 1940; killed on air operations, 30 May 1943.
Other crews had difficult return flights after encounters with enemy
night fighters or when their machines had been damaged by flak.
On the night of 26 April, the second of the squadron's three
visits to Duisburg, the Stirling captained by nineteen-year-old Pilot
Officer Buck
Flight Lieutenant P. J. O. Buck, DFC; born Wellington, 19 Nov 1923; clerk; joined
RNZAFJun 1941.
was approaching the target when an enemy fighter
made a skilful surprise attack. There was a sharp explosion, which
Buck took to be flak, and he was for the moment unaware that
the rudder and tail of the bomber were damaged and his rear
gunner mortally wounded. A few seconds later, however, he realised
his mistake when a stream of tracer hit both mainplanes and the
upper turret. Buck then found the rudder controls useless, but he
managed to evade further attack and jettison his load of incendiaries
when he suspected they had caught fire. Without rudder control it
was difficult to turn, but with help from his second pilot Buck got
the Stirling on course for base some 300 miles away. Then the
starboard outer engine failed, the oil pipes having been cut by
bullets. The aircraft began to lose height steadily and a crash-landing
in the Channel seemed likely. However, Buck ordered the crew to
jettison everything movable and by skilful handling of his crippled
machine succeeded in maintaining sufficient height to reach base
and make a safe crash-landing.
Flight Sergeant Whitehead
Flying Officer W. D. Whitehead, DFM; born Matamata, 5 May 1922; farmer; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
and his crew had a similar experience
when they flew to Dortmund towards the end of May. They had
just bombed the target when flak hit the port outer engine and set
it alight. By the time Whitehead regained control the bomber had
lost 5000 feet. The burning engine acted as a beacon for a cone of
searchlights but fortunately the propeller flew off, the engine
stopped, and the flames died away. Nevertheless, it was only after
prolonged evasive action that Whitehead succeeded in getting clear
of the searchlights and heavy anti-aircraft fire.
Pilot Officer H. C. Williams
Flight Lieutenant H. C. Williams, DFC and bar; born Pahiatua, 20 Feb 1917; driver;
joined RNZAFNov 1941.
and his crew were in action with
night fighters towards the end of July. Their Stirling, one of sixteen
bombers sent by No. 75 Squadron to attack Essen that night, was
suddenly set upon during the outward flight. However, by following
the directions of his gunners, Williams was able to manoeuvre his
machine into a favourable position. Then, after several accurate and
prolonged bursts, there was a violent explosion in the German
fighter and it was seen to fall away in flames. A few moments later
a second fighter approached, but on meeting sustained fire from the
Stirling's guns it turned away. Williams and his crew appear to have
had more than their share of such experiences. During an earlier
attack on Dortmund they had been simultaneously engaged by two
Ju88s, but had evaded their attacks and claimed one as damaged.
While the main part of No. 75 Squadron's effort against Germany
was devoted to the Ruhr, the aircrews also operated on various
missions which called for deeper penetration into enemy territory.
In March Stirlings flew in the three raids against Berlin, a total of
twenty-one aircraft attacking the German capital without loss. On
the first raid the Stirlings encountered only slight opposition from
anti-aircraft batteries and although enemy fighters were seen there
were no combats. But in both of the later raids the defences put
up stronger resistance. After being damaged by flak over Berlin, the
bomber flown by Pilot Officer French
Flying Officer R. O. French, DFC; born Feilding, 11 Nov 1910; farmer; joined RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 4 Sep 1943.
was intercepted on the return
journey by a night fighter which scored hits in one of the port
engines. Fire was exchanged for some minutes before the enemy
machine broke off the engagement. Sergeant H. J. Dalzell had a
lucky escape when a fragment of flak tore into his cockpit. It penetrated his flying kit but was deflected by the cigarette case in his
breast pocket. Another crew were fortunate when, after the long
flight to Berlin, their Stirling was so short of petrol that two engines
failed just as it touched down.
No. 75 Squadron also took part in the series of attacks directed
against cities in southern Germany in order to prevent the enemy
adding to his defences in the Ruhr. The first two targets were
Nuremberg, scene of many of Hitler's great party rallies, and
Munich, headquarters of the Nazi movement and an important railway and armament centre. The seven crews who bombed Nuremberg
saw large explosions and the glare of fires was still visible when
they had covered more than one hundred miles of the homeward
flight. During the flight back one Stirling was attacked by an enemy
fighter over Saarbrucken. Cannon fire streamed into the cockpit and
a shell exploded near the second pilot, Flying Officer Eddy,
Flight Lieutenant C. Eddy, MBE; born Hamilton, Victoria, 31 Jul 1914; joined RNZAFSep 1939; killed on air operations, 19 Apr 1944.
wounding him in the leg. Then followed seven minutes of violent evasive
action before the enemy aircraft was finally shaken off. Another
bomber captained by Sergeant Davey
Sergeant C. R. Davey; born Dargaville, 4 Apr 1921; insurance clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 8 Mar 1943.
did not return.
Experienced crews reported the attack on Munich as one of the
most successful they had seen. Describing a terrific explosion in the
target area Squadron Leader Allcock said: ‘Suddenly there was a
terrific pillar of flame in front of me. Then we flew through a
smoke ring about a mile and a half in diameter caused by the
explosion.’ Another captain, Pilot Officer D. L. Thompson,
Pilot Officer D. L. Thompson; born Auckland, 21 Mar 1922; bank clerk; joined RNZAFMay 1941; killed on air operations, 29 Apr 1943.
said
the explosion lit up the whole of the inside of his Stirling and that
‘the entire town below us was floodlit by fire.’
The April raids on Frankfurt and Stuttgart were particularly
eventful for No. 75 Squadron. In the first attack against Frankfurt
twelve Stirlings were despatched. All reached their objective, but
one was hit by flak when over the target and then pursued by night
fighters. A message sent to base brought Spitfires out to escort the
‘lame duck’ from the French coast, but it finally came down in the
Channel three miles from the English coast and the crew transferred
to their dinghy. A Walrus flying boat which had been standing by
to pick the men up collided with their dinghy and threw them into
the sea, but they were eventually able to clamber aboard little the
worse for their experience.
In a second attack against Stuttgart towards the middle of the
month Pilot Officer McCaskill
Pilot Officer D. G. McCaskill; born Wellington, 11 Oct 1923; student; joined RNZAFJun 1941; killed on air operations, 15 Apr 1943.
and his crew were lost, and two
nights later the aircraft captained by Pilot Officer Groves
Pilot Officer K. H. G. Groves; born Waverley, 3 Jan 1913; farmer; joined RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 17 Apr 1943.
and Pilot
Officer Debenham
Pilot Officer K. F. Debenham; born Oxford, 3 Jan 1917; shop assistant; joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Apr 1943.
failed to return from Mannheim. From these
three crews only one man survived – Debenham's flight engineer.
The rest were all killed when their machines crashed in enemy
territory. Another crew got back from Mannheim after their bomber
had been badly shot up by flak, but when about to land the English
pilot, Flight Lieutenant Lowe,
Squadron Leader D. C. Lowe, DFC, AFC; RAF; born London, 14 Mar 1922; aircraft
research laboratory assistant; joined RAFNov 1940.
found the throttle controls had
jammed. On crash-landing the aircraft hit a hangar and caught fire
but the crew were able to hack their way out of the wreckage.
During the homeward flight particular fortitude had been displayed
by the navigator, Pilot Officer Carswell,
Flying Officer F. C. Carswell, DFC; born Invercargill, 4 Jul 1916; assistant company
secretary; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
who was badly wounded
in the leg. Although weak from loss of blood and in considerable
pain, he had remained at his post and guided the aircraft back to
base.
One of Bomber Command's most successful raids of this period,
apart from those against the Ruhr, was that on the Schneider armament works at Le Creusot, now of greater importance to the Germans
following the damage to Krupps at Essen and the Skoda plant at
Pilsen. Halifaxes and Stirlings made up the bulk of the force of
290 bombers which made the attack in mid-June – a full moon
period when operations against more distant and strongly defended
targets would have meant prohibitive loss. As it was, only two
machines were lost in this raid and, into the bargain, a Messerschmitt
was shot down over the Channel by a Halifax on the outward flight.
Although the Schneider plant at Le Creusot was a relatively small
target, it was severely damaged and ceased production for a considerable period.
Thirteen Stirlings from the New Zealand Squadron took part in
the raid and crews reported a successful attack. One of the bombers
lost a propeller as it approached Le Creusot but carried on to drop
its bombs and returned safely. Another Stirling, with Squadron
Leader Joll at the controls, received a direct hit from a light anti-aircraft shell which burst inside the port mainplane. Shrapnel
severed the petrol cock control cables and oil pipelines and oil began
to flow into the fuselage. While Joll continued on over the target,
his Canadian flight engineer, Sergeant G. Falloon,
Flying Officer G. Falloon, DFM; born Strasbourg, Canada, 28 Oct 1916; joined RCAF
Jun 1940.
took an axe,
hacked his way through the fuselage and crawled inside the wing.
There he investigated the damage and, working by torchlight, made
temporary oil repairs which enabled the bomber to return safely.
Another of No. 75 Squadron's targets at this time was the Rhineland town of Aachen. Aachen was on the fringe of the Ruhr and
could be reached without deep penetration of the enemy defences;
nevertheless, the city itself was well defended by anti-aircraft
batteries and night fighters. Several crews reported encounters with
night fighters, one of which was probably destroyed. The gunners
saw their target emit a flash, spin round and go down through the
clouds, after which there was an explosion on the ground. On the
other hand, two Stirlings were badly damaged by flak over Aachen.
One made an emergency landing and the crew escaped injury but the
other crew were not so fortunate. When they crash-landed at
Oakington, the undercarriage collapsed and the aircraft turned over
and caught fire. The mid-upper gunner was mortally wounded and
four other members of the crew badly hurt, including the captain,
Flying Officer Eddy. He remained in the aircraft to assist his bomb
aimer from the overturned second pilot's seat. Then, finding that the
dying mid-upper gunner was trapped in his turret, he went back
into the burning aircraft to try to free him. Unfortunately the heat,
fumes, and smoke finally drove him back to the ground, where he
collapsed as a result of his exertions and injuries.
Meanwhile No. 75 Squadron had continued to play its part in
the Battle of the Ruhr. The Stirlings flew in the massive raid against
Dortmund on 23 May when over 830 bombers had caused widespread destruction. ‘No district and few industries escaped
unscathed,’ says a contemporary report. ‘Two-thirds of the great
Hoesch steel plant were damaged and one area of devastation in
the centre of the city covered 115 acres.’ Two nights later New
Zealand Stirlings were among the 610 bombers which attacked
Wuppertal where, following the best concentration of marking yet
achieved by the Pathfinders, immense damage was caused.
Then followed the heavy raids on Oberhausen, Krefeld, Mulheim
and Dusseldorf in all of which No. 75 Squadron took part. Dusseldorf was the leading commercial city of western Germany and the
home of the administration departments of practically all the
important iron, steel, heavy engineering and armament industries
of the Ruhr and Rhineland, as well as a very important engineering
centre in itself. It received two attacks, each by about seven hundred
aircraft. The first, on the night of 25 May, was marred by thick
cloud which largely obscured the markers. The second attack a
fortnight later was made in good weather and achieved a very heavy
concentration of bombs around the aiming point. The German
ARP services were overwhelmed and an immense conflagration
raged almost unchecked over the main part of the city. Many
engineering, armaments and rail targets were included in the widespread devastation and some were still smouldering a week after
the attack.
* * * * *
The climax of the Ruhr battle came on 25 July 1943 when seven
hundred Lancasters, Halifaxes, Stirlings, and Wellingtons made
their last attack of the year against Essen. For the loss of twenty-three machines, it was estimated that more damage was inflicted in
this raid than in all previous attacks against Essen put together.
Photographic reconnaissance revealed that the bombing was concentrated within a relatively narrow strip about one and a half miles
wide, stretching back from the aiming point in the centre of the
town and including the whole of Krupps Works. Havoc, wrought
by fire, was great and some buildings were still burning two days
later. A few nights later the industrial centre of Remscheid which
specialised in machine tools was raided by 270 bombers, and
reconnaissance the next day showed uncontrolled fires sweeping the
town, the whole centre of which appeared gutted. A contemporary
German report shows that over one hundred industrial concerns,
including two steel mills, were affected.
Altogether, the Battle of the Ruhr had given an impressive
demonstration of the growing power for destruction of Bomber
Command. Not only had a hitherto invulnerable area been severely
damaged for the first time but there seemed no reason why this
success should not be repeated indefinitely on targets within Oboe
range. This had never been the case before. Every previous success
had been dependent on a caprice of the weather and had only been
won by seizing some opportunity which might never recur. Never-
theless, Air Marshal Harris himself regarded his victory in the
Ruhr as only the beginning of a serious bomber offensive; not before
a very much larger number of cities elsewhere in Germany had been
reduced to the same condition and not before the wrecked cities of
the Ruhr and elsewhere had been attacked once and even twice
again to prevent recovery could there be any decisive effect.
Bomber Offensive, p. 148.
A spectacular incident in the Battle of the Ruhr must now be
noted. This was the attack on the night of 16 May 1943 against the
dams in the Ruhr and Weser valleys, which supplied water and
hydro-electric power for many cities and industries in these regions.
Of some twelve dams the Moehne was the chief. Built to control
the River Ruhr, it was 105 feet high, 2100 feet long, increasing in
thickness from 25 feet at the top to 112 feet at the base, and its
capacity was just over 130 million tons of water. Second in importance was the Eder Dam which protected and fed the large manufacturing centre of Kassel and neighbouring industrial areas. Other
large dams were the Sorpe – unusual on account of its earthern
construction round a concrete core – the Lister, and the Schwelme.
To attack such formidable targets successfully was an extremely
difficult and hazardous task involving months of careful planning,
preparation, and training. A special unit, No. 617 Lancaster
Squadron, had therefore been formed under Wing Commander
Guy Gibson
Wing Commander G. P. Gibson, VC, DSO and bar, DFC and bar, Legion of Merit
(US); born Talland, Simla, 12 Aug 1918; joined RAF1937; commanded No. 106 Sqdn,
1942–43; No. 617 Sqdn, 1943; Deputy Director Personnel (A) 1944; killed on air operations 19 Sep 1944.
and the crews carefully chosen. Gibson himself had
already completed three tours of operations, and after pressing
strongly to be allowed to remain on operations he had, on account
of his outstanding character and achievements, been selected to
command No. 617 Squadron. This unit, first under Gibson and later
under Wing Commander Cheshire
Group Captain G. L. Cheshire, VC, DSO and two bars, DFC; RAF (retd); born Chester,
7 Sep 1917; permanent commission RAFOct 1939; commanded No. 76 Sqdn, 1942–43;
No. 617 Sqdn, 1943–44; served with RAF Delegation, USA, 1944–45.
– both men won the Victoria
Cross – was to establish a splendid record during the second half of
the war in carrying out various special missions, of which this
successful attack on the Ruhr dams was but the first.
The raid on the dams was made by nineteen Lancasters using
specially designed weapons that were detonated by hydrostatic fuses
at a chosen depth. Two New Zealanders were among the bomber
crews: Flight Lieutenant Munro,
Squadron Leader J. L. Munro, DSO, DFC; born Gisborne, 5 Apr 1919; farmer; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
who was later to become deputy
leader of the squadron, captained one Lancaster, and Flying Officer
Chambers,
Flight Lieutenant L. Chambers, DFC; born Karamea, 18 Feb 1919; carpenter; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
who had been with No. 75 Squadron the previous year,
flew as wireless operator in another. Both men were among the
eleven crews which survived their mission. The whole gallant action
is vividly portrayed in the last chapters of Enemy Coast Ahead,
written by Wing Commander Gibson shortly before he was killed
in action.
The Lancasters were despatched in three waves, and it was the
first wave of nine aircraft, led by Gibson, which achieved the greatest success. Taking off soon after moonrise, these bombers flew low
into Germany on a carefully planned course to make the initial
attack on the Moehne Dam. Gibson went in first, descending to
within a few feet of the water and taking the full brunt of the anti-aircraft defences; then the following Lancasters attacked in turn
and as each aircraft swept down the valley Gibson drew the enemy
fire in order to give it as free a run as possible. Already during the
approach one machine, its pilot blinded by searchlights, had ‘reared
up like a stricken horse, plunged on to the deck and burst into
flames; five seconds later his mine blew up with a tremendous
explosion.’ Then, over the Moehne lake, a second Lancaster was hit
in one of its petrol tanks; it caught fire, staggered on apparently
trying to gain height so that the crew could bale out, let fall its
bomb on the power-house below the dam and then, says Gibson,
‘there was a livid flash in the sky and one wing fell off; his aircraft
disintegrated and fell to the ground in cascading, flaming fragments.’
But meanwhile other bombers had reached the dam and in the pale
moonlight the crews caught glimpses of the whole valley below
beginning to fill with fog from the stream of gushing water. Gibson
then led the remaining Lancasters over the treetops, up and down
valleys to the Eder Dam where, after their attack, two separate
breaches appeared and crews saw a wave of water sweeping down
the valley below ‘swiping off power stations and roads as it went.
We saw it extinguish all the lights in the neighbourhood as though
a great black shadow had been drawn across the earth.’ But two
more Lancasters had been lost, one of them blown up by the
detonation of its own bomb as it attacked; another damaged bomber
crashed into the North Sea during the return flight.
The effects of the breaching of the two dams are described in
contemporary German reports. A gap ‘76 metres wide and 21 to 23
metres deep’ was torn in the Moehne Dam, the main power-station
below it was destroyed, and all road and rail bridges in the Moehne
Valley were swept away. There was further widespread damage to
power-stations, waterworks, industries and railways in the Ruhr
Valley and ‘the effects of the attack were felt far into the Dusseldorf
district.’ Similar destruction and dislocation were reported by the
Germans as a result of the breaching of the Eder Dam, below which
the whole valley was flooded for 16 miles, including parts of the
town of Kassel.
The bombs used in the attack on the Ruhr Dams had been
specially designed by B. N. Wallis of Vickers Armstrong, and after
the war the Royal Commission on Awards to Inventors gave him
£10,000. He put it into a fund to educate children of men who died
in the RAF, quoting David in Samuel II, Chapter 23: ‘Is not this
the blood of the men that went in jeopardy of their lives?’ It was
a worthy gesture. The finest bombs ever invented would have been
useless without young men of sufficient courage to fight through
bitter opposition to drop them and sufficient skill to put them in the
right place. The aircrews of Bomber Command were young enough
and courageous enough, and this raid on the Ruhr dams was but
one of many episodes in which their almost incredible bravery was
fully demonstrated.
* * * * *
By the middle of 1943, with Bomber Command sending large
forces deeper into Germany and the United States 8th Air Force
making an impressive display of its newly acquired strength in daylight attacks, the Allied air offensive was steadily gaining momentum.
The advent of the American bomber forces over Germany was to
prove a major turning point in the strategic air attack on the enemy
war machine. However, as yet, coincidence of effort and objectives
was rather fortuitous and for some time the two Allied bomber
forces continued to operate along lines not nearly so parallel as had
been assumed.
The British and American forces were, in fact, engaged in
bombing the enemy in accordance with widely divergent theories.
Whereas the RAF still hoped to bring about the general disorganisation of the German economy by area attacks on cities, the Americans
preferred precise attacks on selected industries. Moreover, the
Americans considered that the key to a successful bombing offensive
was air superiority, which meant the destruction of the Luftwaffe,
while in the RAF policy of night bombing the tactics demanded
were the evasion rather than the defeat of the German fighter force.
This fundamental difference of opinion as to the best method of
conducting the strategic bombing offensive had been recognised at
the Casablanca Conference in January 1943, but it had not been
bridged in the subsequent statement of policy issued after that
meeting. The commanders of the two Allied bomber forces, Air
Marshal Harris and Lieutenant-General Eaker, had been left to
interpret an extremely wide directive in their own different ways.
As a result subsequent efforts to achieve a common strategy and
tactics were to meet with little success until well into 1944.
On the tactical side there was much discussion of the relative
merits of day and night bombing. At first the RAF tended to be
rather sceptical and the Americans boldly optimistic regarding the
efficacy of daylight attacks, but soon both sides had cause to modify
their views. It was realised that complementary attacks by day and
night had certain advantages as both sides could draw to the full
on their previous training and experience, while the enemy fighter
force would be kept at full stretch and Germany subjected to a more
continuous assault.
The Americans, however, had to pass through a hard school in
developing their daylight attacks. Like Bomber Command, they
found that penetration over Germany by day without fighter cover
was prohibitive in cost; they also discovered that on many days the
weather over Northern Europe produced conditions similar to those
prevailing at night and thereby rendered precision attacks very
difficult.
An American air historian records that ‘On the 11th June 1943 … after being frustrated
during ten days of bad weather over European targets the 8th Air Force despatched 252
heavy bombers to attack Bremen and Wilhelmshaven. Finding Bremen obscured by
clouds 168 of the bombers attacked Wilhelmshaven and 30 bombed Cuxhaven, a target
of opportunity …. Things went very much as expected which is not to say that they
went well. As on previous AAF missions to those parts, the German fighters appeared
in force but reserved their attacks until the bombing formations were committed to the
bombing run …. Bombing accuracy at Wilhelmshaven was consequently poor, few bombs
of the 417 tons dropped did serious damage and none hit the target (the U-boat building
yards). – A. B. Ferguson in The Army Air Forces in World War II, Volume II, p. 669.
But eventually the Americans triumphed over the obstacles
to effective daylight attacks, and by mid-1944 tightly packed formations of Fortress bombers under strong escort by long-range fighters
were bombing Berlin at high noon.
American ideas on air strategy exerted a strong influence in the
discussions that took place during 1943 in an attempt to develop
a combined plan for the bombing of Germany. In May of that year
General Eaker, in command of the United States 8th Air Force,
produced a plan based on the proposition that ‘it was better to cause
a high degree of destruction in a few really essential industries than
to cause a small degree of destruction in many industries.’ American
intelligence experts working in close co-operation with the British
suggested six target systems whose destruction it was believed would
‘fatally weaken the enemy's capacity for armed resistance.’ These
systems were the submarine construction yards and bases, the aircraft industry, the ball-bearing industry, oil, synthetic rubber pro-
duction, and the production of military and transport vehicles.
Since the destruction of these targets could only be achieved by a
force of considerable size, the RAF could co-operate in the plan by
attacking cities by night which were related to the target systems
being bombed by the 8th Air Force. However, Eaker pointed out
that before his plan could be put into effect it was essential to
reduce the growing strength of the German fighter force. This, in
fact, was the most important feature of the plan.
The Combined Chiefs of Staff who, acting under the President
of the United States and the Prime Minister of Great Britain, were
the supreme military authority, accepted this point and signified
their approval of the general plan. The defeat of the German Air
Force now became mandatory and the achievement of air superiority
was accepted as the indispensable prelude to successful strategic
bombing operations. A revision, or rather an interpretation, of the
Casablanca directive was now called for.
The new directive, which came to be known as the ‘Pointblank’
plan, was sent to the Commander-in-Chief Bomber Command and
the Commanding General of the 8th Air Force on 10 June 1943.
Unfortunately, however, while it stated that ‘first priority was to be
given to the attack of the German fighter force and the industry
upon which they depended,’ the wording of the directive was rather
vague and obviously an attempt at compromise with British views.
In particular, it made only very informal provision for what was
essential to the success of the plan, namely, the close integration of
British and American operations. On this point the directive simply
stated: ‘while the forces of the British Bomber Command will be
employed in accordance with their main aim in the general disorganisation of German industry their action will be designed as
far as practicable to be complementary to the VIII Air Force.’
The result was that the so-called ‘combined bomber offensive’
continued more or less along its already divergent lines. While the
8th Air Force went ahead with daylight attacks upon the more
precise sources of German air strength, Bomber Command continued
to concentrate mainly on area attacks against German cities.
Air Marshal Harris was, in fact, determined to carry on the
attack against German cities and as far as possible to avoid all
diversionary activities. He remained convinced that the enemy's
capitulation could best be brought about by the destruction of most
of his principal towns. As Bomber Command became better equipped
for concentrated attack, the British Air Staff argued the merits of
attacks on key industries in Germany, but Harris persisted in his
view – not without strong political support. As late as 7 December
1943, in a review of the RAF bomber offensive, he declared: ‘it is
not possible to dogmatize on the degree of destruction necessary to
cause the enemy to capitulate but there can be little doubt that the
necessary conditions will be brought about by the destruction of
between 40 per cent and 50 per cent of the principal German towns.’
By the end of 1943, however, the British Air Staff, already
inclined to the American view, was finally convinced that the area
bombing offensive was not the best way to win the war. But it was
not until February 1944 that, by insisting on an attack against the
controversial target of Schweinfurt, they made this clear to Sir
Arthur Harris. The official British policy, if not the practice, of area
bombing was then discarded. The impending invasion of the Continent for which air superiority was regarded as vital had provided
the final and decisive argument in favour of the American policy
of attacking the German fighter force and the aircraft industry
upon which it depended.
The combined bombing effort did not, however, achieve close
integration until late in the campaign when the greater accuracy of
the British bombing and the heavier weight of the American attack
made the distinction between pinpoint and area bombing a shadowy
one, and when the importance of enemy oil and transport had
become so apparent as to leave little doubt regarding the primary
objectives. Nevertheless, the early stages of the Allied air offensive
were not negligible in terms of strategic effects. In particular, they
reduced the cushion of potential productive capacity in Germany
which had at first absorbed the shock of strategic bombardment. But
until 1944 German industry was not fully mobilised. Many industries had surplus space, machine tools, and stocks of raw materials.
Some plants had yet to be converted to full war production, while
the capabilities of the occupied territories were not fully developed.
Moreover, owing to the fact that the Allied attacks were not fully
co-ordinated or repeated quickly enough, the enormous recuperative
power of German industry had not yet been taxed to the full. In
this connection it is well to emphasise that the air offensive did not
achieve major power and significance until the spring of 1944.
Indeed, of the total tonnage of bombs dropped in the European War
by the RAF and the USAAF, no less than 83 per cent was dropped
subsequent to 1 January 1944. Perhaps even more significant is the
fact that, of all the tonnage dropped on Germany itself, 72 per cent
was after 1 July 1944. If the bombing of Germany had relatively
little effect on production prior to that time, it is not only because
she had idle resources upon which to draw but also because the
major weight of the air offensive had not yet been brought to bear.
CHAPTER 4
Longer-range Attacks
Now it was late summer. Dusk came earlier to the airfields in
eastern England and, with the longer hours of darkness, Royal
Air Force bombers began to penetrate farther into enemy territory.
The first of the more distant targets that were heavily attacked during
the second half of 1943 was the city of Hamburg. ‘The total
destruction of this city,’ declared the Commander-in-Chief in his
operational order on the eve of the attack, ‘would achieve immeasurable results in reducing the industrial capacity of the enemy's war
machine. But the battle of Hamburg cannot be won in a single
night. It is estimated that at least 10,000 tons of bombs will have
to be dropped to achieve the maximum effect. On the first raid a
large number of incendiaries are to be carried in order to saturate
the fire services ….’
Hamburg was the second largest city of Germany and the greatest
port in continental Europe. Within its boundaries lay U-boat building
yards, aircraft factories, and oil installations of the first importance,
as well as many other major war industries. Before the war the
town, whose main built-up area was on the north of the River Elbe,
had a population of over one and a half million. This important
centre of the German economy was one of the most heavily guarded
areas in Germany outside the Ruhr and hundreds of guns and
searchlights co-operated with squadrons of night fighters in its
defence.
Hamburg had already been attacked by Bomber Command on
various occasions earlier in the war with considerable loss and
comparatively little effect, but the brief series of raids now directed
against the city at the end of July 1943 was to provide a remarkable
contrast. Within the space of just over one week, four night raids,
each by more than seven hundred aircraft, were launched by Bomber
Command, and over 8500 tons of high-explosive and incendiary
bombs were dropped. Two daylight attacks by American bombers
on the port area of Hamburg added a further 254 tons. There were
also harassing attacks by small forces of Mosquito bombers in the
intervals between the major raids so that the effect on the Germans
was one of almost continuous assault. By the beginning of August
Hamburg was without water, gas, and electricity supplies, large areas
of the town lay in smoking ruins, and between 40,000 and 50,000
people had lost their lives. Economically the great city was for the
time being knocked out, since the undamaged parts had to stop work
on account of the destruction or lack of essential services.
The second RAF attack on the night of 27 July produced a unique
and dreadful phenomenon in Hamburg. The bombing was well
concentrated and its main weight fell upon the closely built-up area
to the east of the Alster Lake. Within a short time this region was
enveloped in a veritable sea of flames which were intensified by
firestorms of almost hurricane strength. The overheated air stormed
through the streets with immense force, taking along not only sparks
but burning timber and roof beams, so spreading the fire farther
and farther. According to a German observer, ‘it developed in a
short time into a fire typhoon as such was never before witnessed,
against which every human resistance was quite useless.’ Another
report said that the firestorms were so violent and the suction so
strong that trees were uprooted and the roofs of houses carried
away. To judge from the many German descriptions of what
happened it must have been almost as terrible as the bursting of
the two atom bombs over the Japanese cities at the end of the war.
Certainly these fire raids at the end of July 1943 were always
referred to by the inhabitants of Hamburg as ‘The Catastrophe’.
On each of the big RAF raids the plan of attack was similar.
Pathfinders led the way dropping route markers at a given point off
the mouth of the Elbe. Since Hamburg was outside Oboe range,
aircraft equipped with H2S marked the target and there was a large
force of backers-up to maintain this marking throughout the raids.
Among them were experts whose duty it was to re-centre the attack
when necessary so as to avoid the usual creeping back of the bomb-
ing. Except in the last raid, when the bombers met severe thunder-
stormsthunderstorms and most of the markers were hidden by clouds, these tactics
proved highly successful.
But the outstanding feature of the Hamburg raids which contributed in large measure to the success achieved was the employment
for the first time of a new method of countering the very efficient
German defence organisation. During each raid British bombers
dropped innumerable small strips of metallised paper which caused
echoes similar to those produced by aircraft to appear on the
enemy radar screens. The effect was remarkable. In the German
ground-control stations instruments behaved as though the sky was
filled with thousands of hostile aircraft and the controllers had to
tell their night-fighter pilots they were unable to help them. Indeed,
the whole system upon which the enemy relied for the control of
his night fighters and the accuracy of his gunfire was thrown into
hopeless confusion. Searchlights waved aimlessly in all directions,
predicted gunfire gave way to a heavy barrage, and the German
night fighters frequently seemed unaware of the presence of bombers in their vicinity. As a result the RAF casualties in the four
attacks on Hamburg were relatively light, 87 bombers being lost
from the 3095 sorties despatched.
The lack of direction from the ground and the consequent frustration of the efforts of the German night-fighter pilots may have
accounted for a somewhat unusual incident which befell one of the
Stirlings from No. 75 Squadron in the raid on 24 July. Just after
bombs had been released the captain reported a night fighter
approaching from ahead. A second or two later there was a terrific
bump as the fighter collided with the starboard wing, tearing away
several feet of the wing and damaging the aileron controls. But
apparently the German machine got the worst of the collision for it
was seen to turn over on its back and go down. The Stirling had
meanwhile dropped on its starboard side and began to lose height,
but with help from his bomb aimer the pilot managed to pull the
aircraft level and then hold it on course throughout the long return
flight.
The New Zealand Squadron took part in each of the four major
attacks on Hamburg, despatching a total of seventy-nine sorties.
This was in addition to the attacks on Essen and Remscheid during
the last weeks of July which marked the final stage of the Ruhr
battle. ‘It has been a terrific week for everybody – for ground crews
as well as for the flying men,’ declared Wing Commander Wyatt.
‘The fitters, mechanics and the riggers have worked without stint to
get the bombers ready for the next operation. As a result we have
put up more aircraft in the last week than ever before.’
In the first three raids on Hamburg No. 75 Squadron was fortu-
nate, all but one of the Stirlings returning safely. In the last attack,
however, two of the seventeen bombers which took off failed to
return. One was shot down over Germany and the other crashed
into the North Sea. All the members of both crews were lost. The
last raid was made in very bad weather. One New Zealander with
a Lancaster squadron, whose motto appropriately enough was
‘Despite the Elements’, told how his bomber finally reached the
vicinity of Hamburg after flying through cloud, rain and electrical
storms. ‘The clouds were very dense and miles high and so thick
that we had to come down very low before getting under them.
A violent thunderstorm was raging and brilliant flashes of lightning
lit up the ground. Suddenly we saw the twisting outline of the
River Elbe and were then able to fix our position.’ Another crew
reported that they flew over the target area six times before they
could find a way through the cloud.
Many of the New Zealanders who flew to Hamburg with RAF
squadrons also had eventful flights. Pilot Officer Elder
Flight Lieutenant W. E. Elder, DFC, DFM; born Gore, 30 Aug 1912; farmer; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
of No. 76
Squadron brought back a crippled Halifax with one member of his
crew dead and two wounded after one of the raids. German fighters
had attacked the Halifax shortly after the bomb load was released,
killing the mid-upper gunner and putting the port engine out of
action. Other members of the crew fought off the fighters while
the bomb aimer took an axe and cut away burning pieces of the
fuselage. On reaching the first lighted airfield in England after a
difficult flight, Elder ordered the unwounded members of his crew
to bale out because he feared a dangerous crash-landing. The
navigator, bomb aimer, and wireless operator all left the aircraft
and came down safely. After strapping the badly injured rear
gunner in the rest position the engineer, who had himself been
wounded in the legs, helped Elder to bring the bomber down on
the grass outside the runway. The Halifax skidded along to the end
of the airfield, jumped a ditch, went through a fence, and finished
up by tearing the port engines out on some tree stumps before it
finally came to rest.
The raids on Hamburg caused considerable alarm among the
German war leaders. ‘We were of the opinion,’ said Herr Speer,
Minister of Production, during his interrogation after the war, ‘that
rapid repetition of this type of attack upon another six German
towns would inevitably cripple the will to sustain armament manufacture and war production. I reported to the Fuehrer at the time
that a continuation of these attacks might bring about a rapid end
to the war.’ It was indeed a critical moment for Germany since it
was clear that, for the time being at least, the Luftwaffe was unable
either to prevent the raids or to launch heavy reprisals against
Britain. Goebbels was ‘sunk in gloom’ and anxiously watching for
signs of collapse on the home front which had been the undoing
of Germany in 1918. However, the British raids were not repeated
with the same weight and frequency, the crisis passed, and the
German defence organisation was able to adapt itself to further
air attacks as a result of the experience gained at Hamburg.
It was, in fact, a physical impossibility for Bomber Command at
this stage of its expansion and equipment to do what in Speer's
opinion might have brought the war quickly to an end. Even with
the greatest possible luck it would not have been possible to attack
in a brief space of time six more great cities as effectively as
Hamburg. To find new targets even half or a third of its size the
bombers would have to go much farther afield. Hamburg had been
more accessible and, because of its position near the coast, more
easily located and subjected to concentrated attack. Weather, the
size of the force, and lack of experience with the new radar aids
prohibited for the time being similar sustained onslaught. To have
destroyed Berlin would have been a severe blow, but it was the most
difficult target of all to attack. Nevertheless at the earliest oppor-
tunity, as soon as the nights were long enough, a series of raids
was directed against the German capital. In the meantime there
were many other tasks for the bombers.
By the middle of 1943Italy had become the focus of the Allied
attack in the Mediterranean, and Bomber Command was directed
to support the efforts being made to drive Hitler's wavering ally out
of the war. Therefore, between the middle of July and the end of
August there were frequent raids on the industrial cities of northern
Italy. In July the nights were too short for the slower types of aircraft and even the Lancasters had to be routed home through the
Bay of Biscay. Nevertheless, as early as the night of 12 July, 295
Lancasters delivered a successful attack against Turin.
There were also a number of raids by smaller forces of Lancasters
against the transformer and switching stations upon which the
electrified railways of Italy depended. After these attacks the
Lancasters would often fly on to land in North Africa and then
make another bombing raid during their return flight to the United
Kingdom. On the night of 15 July when twenty-four Lancasters
were despatched in four groups to attack such targets, Flight
Lieutenant Stewart
Flight Lieutenant T. A. Stewart, DFC, DFM; born Dannevirke, 30 Aug 1915; shop
assistant; joined RNZAFJan 1941; p.w. 18 Aug 1943.
led the six aircraft from No. 61 Squadron
whose objective was the grid and transformer station at Bologna.
Stewart went in first and, after dropping sighter bombs, scored hits
in a second low-level attack. His gunners then concentrated on the
enemy flak posts while the remaining aircraft made their bombing
runs. Stewart, who had been with his squadron since 1941 and was
on his second tour of operations, was taken prisoner a few weeks
later in the famous raid on the German experimental station at
Peenemunde.
Flying Officer Head,
Flight Lieutenant M. R. Head, DSO, DFC; born Petone, 14 Sep 1918; engineer; joined
RNZAFJun 1941; p.w. 16 Jul 1943; escaped and returned to United Kingdom, 11
Jan 1944.
who flew a Lancaster of No. 9 Squadron
to Reggio the same night, had a remarkable series of adventures.
Over the target his machine was involved in a collision and sustained
such damage that the crew was forced to bale out. Shortly after
reaching the ground Head was captured. A week later he escaped
from a north-bound train through a ventilator only to fall into the
hands of a German patrol. A second attempt to escape a few weeks
later was successful when, along with two army officers, he leapt
out of a train in the gathering dusk – the latch outside the door had
previously been released while the train was passing through a
tunnel. After eight days in the mountains the party moved towards
the Allied lines in southern Italy. In a brush with a German patrol
one man was captured; Head's left arm was hit and broken but he
and a companion got through safely.
Within the space of ten days in mid-August 1380 sorties were
flown by Bomber Command against Turin, Genoa and Milan. The
great weight of bombs – some 2200 tons which included over five
hundred two-ton ‘block-busters’ - fell on Milan in three raids within
four nights. Four hundred and eighty Lancasters, Halifaxes, and
Stirlings made the first attack; 134 Lancasters the second, and nearly
200 Lancasters were sent on the third raid. The long and difficult
flight over the Alps was the chief hazard in these raids on Italy, but
there were occasional encounters with enemy fighters usually during
the flight across France. On their second flight to Milan, Flight
Lieutenant Barley
Flight Lieutenant H. J. Barley, DFC; born Auckland, 14 Aug 1913; jig and tool maker;
joined RAFApr 1940; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
and his crew of No. 44 Rhodesian Squadron were
attacked in the neighbourhood of Lake Bourget, to the east of Lyons.
After a running fight lasting several minutes in which the Lancaster
suffered considerable damage, Barley found one engine out of action
and a second giving very little power. A strong north-west wind
made him decide that the best chance of saving his aircraft and crew
was to make for North Africa. By skilful flying he was able to
maintain sufficient height to cross the Mediterranean and reach
Blida airfield near Algiers.
The last stages in the bombing of Italy were very successful both
in causing material damage and in finally destroying what little
inclination remained in that country to continue the war. Italy
surrendered unconditionally on 3 September 1943 but the German
reaction was too quick for the Allies to take advantage of the
surrender. German troops were rushed into the country and the
Allies faced a long and bitter campaign.
During the following months several attempts were made by
Bomber Command to hinder the flow of German supplies and
reinforcements to Italy by cutting the railways on the Brenner and
Riviera routes. The most successful attack was that delivered by a
force of just over three hundred Lancasters in full moonlight on the
night of 10 November against the rail centre at Modane near the
French border. Tracks were torn up, buildings, including the engine
shed were destroyed, and a German goods train standing in the
station was completely wrecked. ‘The whole area,’ says a contemporary report, ‘had the appearance of the front line in the First World
War.’ On the other hand, three gallant attempts by small forces of
Lancasters from No. 617 Squadron to wreck the Antheor viaduct
were unsuccessful. By this time, however, Bomber Command was
heavily engaged over Germany and air support in the Italian
campaign was taken over by the Allied squadrons now well established at airfields in southern Italy.
* * * * *
During the summer months of 1943, apart from several interesting but relatively small raids – notably against the Schneider Works
at Le Creusot, the aircraft factory at Friedrichshafen, and the
Peugeot Works at Montbelliard – the British bombers had concentrated upon the dislocation and destruction of industries in the Ruhr
and Rhineland and in Hamburg. But with the approach of longer
nights Bomber Command had begun to extend its efforts against
the enemy's industrial system and at the same time make a contribution to the reduction of German air strength. In August Nuremberg,
which contained ball-bearing plants, was twice attacked by heavy
forces of over six hundred aircraft Leverkusen, which contained
one of the vast I. G. Farben chemical and rubber plants, was also
attacked. In addition, there were raids on Berlin and the Ruhr.
September targets included Montlucon, the site of the French Dunlop
works, and Hanover, whose principal importance to the aircraft
industry lay in its production of aircraft tires. Kassel was attacked
twice during October and there were heavy raids on Stuttgart,
Leipzig and Hanover. In Stuttgart there was an important ball-bearing factory as well as numerous small plants manufacturing
aircraft components, while Leipzig contained the big Erla group
factories which made and assembled Messerschmitt fighters. In
November Ludwigshaven and Leverkusen, both of which contained
plants of the Farben combine, were attacked; Stuttgart was also
raided again.
During the second half of 1943 seventeen attacks, six of them
in July and five in October, were delivered by American bombers
against specific targets in the German aircraft industry, the main
weight of the assault falling upon fighter assembly plants. The
centre of the German ball-bearing industry at Schweinfurt – high
in the list of primary objectives for the Allied bombers – was also
twice raided by the United States 8th Air Force. But in the second
attack against this target on 14 October 1943 very heavy casualties
were incurred – sixty of the 228 bombers being lost – and it became
clear that daylight raids involving deep penetration would have to
be adequately protected by fighter escort in order to retain the
strength required for continuous operations.
‘For the time being,’ declares the official American Air Historian, ‘the 8th Air Force was
in no position to make further penetrations either to Schweinfurt or to any other objectives
deep in German territory. The Schweinfurt mission, bad enough in itself, had climaxed
a week of costly air battles. Within the space of six days the Eighth lost one hundred and
forty-eight bombers and crews, mostly as a result of air action, in the course of four
attempts to break through German fighter defenses unescorted.’ – The Army Air Force
in World War II, Volume II, p. 705.
As such escort was not
yet available the 8th Air Force made no more deep penetrations in
clear weather into Germany for the rest of the year. For the time
being the daylight assault on long-range targets was left to the 15th
USAAF operating from Italy, with the 8th confining itself to the
German ports and the Ruhr.
The attacks on Schweinfurt are of more than passing interest for
they illustrate both the difficulties and the weakness of the Allied
bombing offensive at this stage. The two American raids caused
damage in critical departments of the industry, and the testimony
of Speer and others acquainted with the situation leaves no doubt
that the enemy took a grave view of the matter. In the autumn of
1943 the German ball-bearing industry was concentrated in a few
places, all of them known to Allied intelligence, and the machinery
was as yet largely unprotected. In the opinion of the United States
Strategic Bombing Survey, had these two 1943 attacks been followed
up the German bearing situation might have become critical indeed.
As it was, Bomber Command - owing to Harris's strong aversion
to what he termed ‘panacea’ targets - did not take part in this first
assault on the Schweinfurt plants at all and no further attempt was
made to bomb them by either British or American aircraft for
another four months. During that time the Germans were able to
reorganise and disperse the industry so thoroughly that any further
effort to destroy it was doomed to failure.
However, in spite of the inability to press on immediately with
heavy daylight attack and some lack of co-ordination between British
and American operations, the 1943 assault on the German aircraft
industry had several important results. In particular, it delayed the
planned programme for fighter production by approximately three
months and the timing of this delay contributed to the victory in the
critical air battles of the following winter. The Allied offensive also
brought about a heavier wastage of German fighters in action, which
led in turn to the adoption by the Germans of new programmes for
greatly increased aircraft production, particularly of fighter types.
And this growing emphasis by the enemy on fighters was perhaps
the best indication of the progress of the battle for air supremacy
in Europe.
Of the night area attacks delivered by Bomber Command during
the last months of 1943 those which fell on Leipzig, Kassel, and
Hanover caused particularly widespread devastation. In the raid
against Hanover on the night of 8 October, which followed two
heavy raids in the previous eighteen days, the main weight of bombs
fell on the central area round the main railway station and the
industrial region of Linden to the south-west of the town centre.
This attack was considered far more effective than all the previous
attacks on Hanover. In the two October raids on Kassel, which had
a substantial aircraft industry producing aero-engines and various
components, as well as assembling aircraft, a large part of the
built-up area was devastated. All three Henschel factories were
damaged, the main factory suffering the most, the majority of its
smaller buildings being destroyed and the larger workshops
damaged. After the second raid against Leipzig early in December
the damage covered a wide strip running right across the city from
north to south and spreading from the centre into the most densely
built-up districts on either side. Much of the area to the south-west
of the main station, where lay the old town, was destroyed. Industrial damage was particularly severe in the south where buildings
designed to house the Leipzig World Fair had been converted to
the aircraft industry and were engaged on the repair of Junkers
aero-engines and the assembly of fuselages.
New Zealanders flew with many of the RAF bomber squadrons
in the raids on these longer-range targets as captains, navigators,
wireless operators, bomb aimers and gunners. Some men survived
remarkable experiences. Squadron Leader J. B. Starky was captain
of a Lancaster from No. 115 Squadron which took off for Mannheim
one evening early in September. It was his forty-seventh trip. Six
hours later, with the starboard elevator almost completely shot
away, the navigator and wireless operator missing and two more of
the crew wounded, the Lancaster force-landed at an airfield in
England. Some twenty miles short of the target a night fighter had
dived on the Lancaster in a head-on attack. The bomber was badly
hit, the cockpit filled with smoke, and the machine went into a
violent spiral. Unable to regain control Starky gave the order to
abandon by parachute. But on hearing that his rear gunner was
trapped in his turret he made a last desperate effort to regain control.
Suddenly the stick became a little easier owing to the dinghy, which
had become jammed in the tail unit, blowing free. Then as the
Lancaster levelled out the German fighter attacked again. But the
gunners held their fire until it came close and sent it down in
flames. Starky then found that both his wireless operator and
navigator had baled out, his engineer had been wounded in the
shoulder, and his bomb aimer badly hit in the arm and head. An
approximate course was set for England, and with his bomb aimer
doing the navigation – the navigator's log had gone and he had no
plan to work on – Starky brought the Lancaster back to the coast and
across the North Sea.
Shot down over the German-Belgian border, Flight Sergeant
Pond
Flying Officer H. A. Pond, DFM; born Matamata, 25 Apr 1922; farmhand; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
of No. 97 Squadron was back in England in just over a fort-
night. Pond captained a Lancaster in the attack on Nuremberg
towards the end of August. Just after leaving the target the bomber
was attacked by a night fighter and badly damaged. Flying low near
the Belgian frontier, Pond turned his machine into cloud to avoid
another fighter and a few moments later the aircraft struck high
ground, bounced off, and finally finished up in a cornfield, where
it caught fire. The rear gunner had been killed in the fighter attack
and the bomb aimer in the crash. The surviving members of the
crew, believing themselves to be in Germany, split up at once.
Actually they were in Belgium, as Pond found out the next after-
noon. While hiding in a field a horse ran so near him that he had
to stand up. A farmer approached and, recognising him as English,
shook hands and warned him that there were Germans in the village
and gave him directions. Pond was thus able to evade capture and
he soon received help which enabled him, after an adventurous
journey, to return to England sixteen days later.
Flying Officer N. J. Matich, who captained a Halifax of No. 35
Pathfinder Squadron during 1943, also owed his escape to assistance
received from various underground organisations on the Continent.
It was during one of the raids against Hanover that Matich's
Halifax was shot down. All the crew baled out safely but the
Australian mid-upper gunner, who had been severely injured in the
fighter attack, later died of wounds and exposure. The others were
taken prisoner, and only Matich got clear. Moving by night he
headed for Holland, which was the nearest and most likely place to
obtain assistance. He took nine nights to cover the hundred miles
to the German-Dutch border. Through taking cover by day, usually
in woods and once in a haystack, he had a fairly safe journey,
although the day he spent in the haystack was nearly his undoing.
The farmer came to cut fodder for his animals and his large knife
or saw passed about six inches from the fugitive's head during the
process of cutting. Matich reached the Dortmund-Ems canal on the
seventh night only to find it guarded. Sentry boxes were at each
end of the bridge and a sentry patrolled the area. Creeping into one
box, Matich overpowered the guard and got across. Two nights
later he reached Holland and made contact with the ‘Organisation’.
After spending six weeks hiding in a cellar in a wood, he was taken
by train and escorted across the frontier into Belgium. From Brussels
he travelled in company with another British pilot to France and
eventually reached Paris. After several days there the two men
were guided by a French girl - apparently known as ‘the girl with a
thousand lovers’ - to Bordeaux. Here Matich's companion nearly
‘gave the show away’ when he spied his rear gunner on the railway
station. Eventually came the gruelling walk across the Pyrenees into
Spain, which took three days and nights, and finally the men reached
Gibraltar from where they were flown back to England.
Flight Sergeant B. Williams,
Warrant Officer B. Williams; born Auckland, 27 Apr 1922; apprentice; joined RNZAFMay 1941; p.w. 23 Sep 1943.
who flew as air gunner with a
Canadian squadron, was less fortunate. When his crippled Wellington bomber came down in the North Sea, he and his crew spent
over eighty hours in their dinghy only to be picked up by the
Germans. This was Williams's second crash within a few months.
On this occasion the Wellington was returning from a raid on
Hanover. Hits from anti-aircraft fire over the target had caused
damage and loss of fuel, but the crew had decided to attempt the
crossing of the North Sea and at least get as close as possible to
England. But before they had got half-way across the sea the engines
spluttered out and the pilot was compelled to ditch.
‘The force of the crash,’ writes Williams, ‘had made the escape opening
very small and it took considerable exertion to squeeze through and scramble
out on to the tail plane. It was as black as pitch, the sea was just covering
the fuselage and there was a large swell. In between the rise and fall of
the waves I slid down, using a sheath knife to dig into the canvas, missed
out on the swell twice, got lifted off the fuselage and was only holding on
by the knife handle. By the time I got down the wing was slowly sinking
and we were up to our necks. Then a whistle blew from behind us; this
turned out to be the pilot who had got the dinghy and brought it up close.
He stayed on one side to balance while I pulled the navigator in; was just
going to haul in the bomb aimer when the pilot told us Johnny the W'op
was going down. He had hit the tail plane and was in a bad way, so {1} turned
round and pulled him in while the others acted as ballast on the other side
of the dinghy. This left the bomb aimer, who was six feet and a dead
weight, but finally we managed to get him in. We baled the dinghy out as
much as possible and then slipped into the sleep of the exhausted. Have a
vague recollection of waking up twice to bale out and shift around before
passing out again. We were soaked to the skin. The next day the sea was
rough and we had to be very careful we did not get overturned. During the
afternoon when we came up on a crest of a wave we saw a Beaufighter but
we had just come up too late. However, it gave us fresh heart. The next
night was calmer and although pretty well exhausted we took turns to watch
but we got cramp with the cold and had to untangle our legs using our
hands to move. We had a mouthful of water the first day, the second day
we had two mouthfuls until we were rescued. We remained hopeful of
drifting to England and took turns at paddling but night always caught up
on us before we sighted land. We began to dread the nights as they brought
a succession of horrible dreams, cramped legs and aching bones, and the
approach of dawn made us glad. Shortly after dawn on the fourth morning
we were sighted by a Junkers 88 and soon afterwards a German Flying Boat
flew over and dropped markers. Then about an hour later a German gun boat
came and picked us up.’
One further episode, typical of what happened all too often in
Bomber Command, must be recorded. It concerns a gunner, Pilot
Officer Moon
Flying Officer S. H. Moon, DFC; born New Plymouth, 3 Oct 1919; grocer's assistant
joined RNZAFApr 1941.
of No. 156 Pathfinder Squadron who, after being
wounded a second time, was the only member of his crew to survive
the war. On the night of 20 December 1943 his Lancaster flew in
the attack on Frankfurt and, after bombing the target and passing
through its defences, was attacked by a German fighter. Through the
commentary and directions given by Moon to his pilot this attack
was successfully evaded. About twenty minutes later another fighter
made a surprise attack. The bomber was badly hit, an engine set on
fire and the mid-upper turret shattered. Moon was badly wounded;
a bullet entered his back and passed out through his chest, paralysing
his left arm and side. However, he remained at his post, trying as
best he could with his right hand to make his guns fire. When the
enemy fighter finally broke away, Moon tried to reach the rest
position and only when unable to do so did he seek help. Twelve
nights later when Moon lay in hospital all the other members of his
crew were killed when their Lancaster was shot down on its way
back from Berlin.
* * * * *
No. 75 New Zealand Squadron had continued to take a prominent
part in the bomber offensive during the late summer and autumn
of 1943. In August a total of 169 sorties was reached, which was
a record for the squadron up to this time and also the highest
number flown by any squadron of No. 3 Bomber Group during that
month. In the following weeks the effort was so well maintained that,
by the end of September, 313 aircraft had operated on thirty missions
in which 538 tons of bombs had been dropped and 132 mines laid
in enemy waters. But this excellent contribution was not made
without heavy cost in men and machines. On many operations during
these two months the Stirlings had to fight their way to and from
their targets in the face of bitter and sustained opposition, particularly from the enemy night fighters. Thirteen Stirlings were missing
in August; a further six failed to return in September, while others
were badly damaged and just managed to limp back to base. How-
everHowever, these heavy losses did not go unavenged. Crews who
experienced combat displayed skill and great fighting spirit and
claimed fifteen fighters as destroyed or probably destroyed, with at
least six more damaged; others were driven off before they could
press home their attacks.
In mid-August Wing Commander Max
Wing Commander R. D. Max, DSO, DFC; born Brightwater, 23 Nov 1918; joined
RAFAug 1938; transferred RNZAFDec 1943; served on Atlantic Ferry, 1941; Flying
Instructor No. 11 OTU, 1941–42; Deputy Chief Instructor, 1943; commanded No. 75
(NZ) Sqdn, 1943–44; transferred RAFMar 1947.
became the first New
Zealander to command the squadron for over a year. Max had
joined the Royal Air Force in August 1938 and at the outbreak of
war was serving with No. 103 Bomber Squadron. He was among
the small group of New Zealanders who flew with the Battle
squadrons in France during 1940 and on one occasion was shot
down near Amiens after bombing a concentration of German tanks.
On return to the United Kingdom he continued to operate with his
squadron and flew Wellingtons until early in 1941, when he was
released to fly on the Atlantic Ferry. Before assuming command of
No. 75 Squadron, Max did valuable work as an instructor at an
operational training unit. Squadron Leaders F. A. Andrews, R.
Broadbent, and J. Joll continued as flight commanders with this
squadron during the second half of 1943.
The first attack by No. 75 Squadron after the Battle of Hamburg
came on the night of 10 August when eighteen aircraft bombed
Nuremberg. The squadron's operation record book states that:
‘Large fires were seen glowing below the clouds and some heavy
explosions occurred indicating that the attack was a success.
Moderate anti-aircraft fire co-operating with searchlights was
encountered but gave little trouble. Some enemy aircraft were seen
but no combats took place. Weather at the target was poor with
thick cloud which prevented identification of detail.’ One crew were
fortunate to get back when their navigational aids failed during the
return journey and they went off track and ran short of fuel. The
crew prepared to abandon the aircraft but eventually reached
Manston, where they landed after being airborne for over nine
hours.
There was a second attack against Nuremberg on 27 August when
eighteen Stirlings reported successful bombing; one aircraft
captained by Flight Sergeant Higham
Flight Sergeant F. D. Higham; born Onehunga, 9 Jun 1919; sheep farmer; joined
RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 28 Aug 1943.
failed to return. Meanwhile
the squadron had contributed to the final stages of the offensive
against Italy with two attacks on Turin in which twenty-nine sorties
were flown without loss.
Two episodes connected with these missions across the Alps
indicate the fine spirit which existed in No. 75 Squadron at this
time. In the raid against Turin on 12 August, one Stirling was
intercepted near Paris on its outward flight by a German fighter.
One engine was hit and became useless, but the crew carried on to
their target nearly 400 miles away, dropped their bombs and returned
safely. After the second raid, four nights later, crews returned to
find fog covering their base at Mepal and they were diverted to
other airfields, so that they could not return to their home airfield
until later the next morning. Consequently servicing, refuelling, and
bombing-up were delayed, but through the enthusiastic and high-speed work of the ground crews the Stirlings were prepared for
operations that same night against Peenemunde. And although the
men did not know it at the time, this attack on Peenemunde was to
prove one of the most important bombing missions of the year.
Peenemunde, on the shores of the Baltic, was the principal
German experimental station engaged in the development of secret
weapons such as the flying bomb and the rocket-bomb for a renewal
of the attack on Britain. Bomber Command's raid on 17 August
1943 was launched to retard this development. In order to preserve
secrecy and avoid needless alarm, crews were not told what was
really going on at Peenemunde; instead they were briefed that the
enemy was developing a new radar counter measure against night
bombers. The operation was given the code name HYDRA, not
altogether a happy thought, since this was the name of the fabled
monster who grew new heads whenever one was cut off.
A force of 600 bombers took off for the attack in bright moon-
light. Normally a force of this size would only have been sent
against such a distant target on a dark or cloudy night, and the
danger from night fighters, even after the disruption of the enemy's
defence system by the dropping of metallised strips in the recent
attacks on Hamburg, was considerable. Therefore, in an effort to
deceive the Germans the whole force this night was routed as if
Berlin were the target and a small diversionary force of Mosquitos
did actually go on to Berlin. The attack was carefully planned and
for the first time in a major raid on Germany a ‘master of
ceremonies’, circling high above the target, assessed the accuracy
of the placing of the target markers and then gave instructions to
the whole force by radio telephone. His task was not easy for there
were some clouds and a protective smoke screen which shrouded
much of the target area. Nevertheless, the bombing appears to have
been fairly well concentrated. At first the Germans were deceived
by the feint attack towards Berlin but the ruse was detected before
the raid on Peenemunde had finished. Night fighters were hastily
despatched to intercept the bombers on their return flight to England
and the last squadrons to attack suffered heavy casualties. Altogether
forty aircraft failed to return. No. 75 Squadron was fortunate in
that all the twelve Stirlings despatched returned safely. A few
enemy aircraft were sighted but no combats took place. Crews
reported that they could see the glow of fires over one hundred
miles from the target on their return flight.
Bomber Command's attack on Peenemunde caused considerable
destruction of both manufacturing buildings and living quarters,
where casualties were heavy and included several important scientists
and leading members of the staff of the experimental establishment.
The actual delay caused to the opening of the German V-weapon
offensive is uncertain but it is significant that after this attack by
Bomber Command the German threats of retaliation against the
United Kingdom by secret weapons became much less specific as
regards dates.
An entry in the Goebbels' diary dated 10 September 1943 states that the raids on Peenemunde and the Todt structures in the West threw preparations back by four to eight
weeks. However, the United States Post-War Bombing Survey reports that the attack
took place too late to interfere seriously with the development of the V-1 (flying bomb)
but estimates that the V-2 (rocket) programme may have been delayed by some two
months.
No. 75 Squadron also took part in two of the three major attacks
against Berlin during August 1943. On the night of the 23rd when
twenty-three New Zealand Stirlings flew to Berlin they met stiff
opposition and three aircraft failed to return. Most crews reported
sighting enemy aircraft and there were several sustained combats.
Flight Sergeant Jamieson,
Flying Officer V. R. Jamieson, DFC; born Waitara, 24 Dec 1918; biscuit machinist;
joined RNZAFNov 1941.
who flew as rear gunner in the bomber
captained by Flight Sergeant W. D. Whitehead, claimed two night
fighters over Berlin. One was seen to burst into flames and go down
and the other to explode and disintegrate in the air. That same night
Flight Sergeant White
Flight Lieutenant O. H. White, CGM; born Christchurch, 21 Feb 1914; salesman;
joined RNZAFOct 1941.
and his crew had a particularly hazardous
flight. Approaching Berlin their Stirling was coned by searchlights
and then repeatedly hit by flak. One shellburst shattered the rear
turret and killed the rear gunner. There was also damage to the
fuselage and controls. Suddenly the anti-aircraft fire died away and
a Junkers 88 came in to attack. White began to make evasive turns
but the damaged elevators caused his machine to dive out of control
in steep turns. He thereupon ordered his crew to ‘Prepare to abandon
aircraft.’ Unfortunately, three members of the crew, including the
navigator, apparently mistook the order and baled out. Meanwhile
White had jettisoned his bomb load while still in the dive and eventually he managed to regain a measure of control. Then, although
still engaged by searchlights and anti-aircraft guns, he succeeded in
getting clear of the target area. White and the two remaining
members of his crew thereupon took stock of the damage and
decided that they would attempt the long flight back – no mean feat
without a navigator. Fortunately White had been a keen yachtsman
in New Zealand and had some knowledge of navigation. He flew
northwards and then across Denmark, where he succeeded in pinpointing the Stirling's position and set course across the North Sea.
The crippled bomber finally reached the English coast, but on arrival
over his home airfield White found that the radio equipment,
undercarriage and flap gear were useless. Despite this he achieved
a safe crash-landing clear of the runway.
Altogether nineteen New Zealanders were among the crews of the
seven Stirlings lost by No. 75 Squadron in these two August raids on
Berlin. One of them, Sergeant Grant,
Warrant Officer J. S. Grant; born Balclutha, 7 Nov 1920; farmer; joined RNZAF Feb
1942; p.w. 31 Aug 1943.
who survived by a miracle
when his Stirling was shot down, has given a vivid description of
his experiences.
On reaching the target area we found plenty of enemy action. The whole
sky was alive with searchlights and anti-aircraft fire and fighters. Cruising
in on our bombing run at 15,000 feet, we had to pass through a heavy
barrage of flak and a screen of night fighters. With the bomb doors open
and on a straight and level course, we were slowed by a shell which hit the
port inner engine and we made a sitting target for the fighters. Just as we
were about to drop our bombs a Ju. 88 began to tail us and when the bombs
had gone closed in with guns blazing. I returned the fire but was unable to
give instructions for evasion as I was having trouble with the intercomm.
Meanwhile the mid-upper gunner was firing at another enemy aircraft to
starboard and managed to drive it off. But another attacked from the port
beam and succeeded in putting his turret out of action. The Junkers at our
rear scored many hits on the fin and tail plane and knocked out my two
right-hand guns, wounding me in the right arm and shoulder, while my
face was peppered with shrapnel. Before I could get my remaining guns to
bear this fighter closed in on our slow moving aircraft for the kill. I again
opened fire and the enemy machine belched forth a cloud of smoke and
flame and disappeared. We were further attacked and one fighter came up
from below and raked us with fire from stem to stern, completely crippling
our aircraft and putting my turret out of action. I had again been wounded
and was cut off from the rest of the crew. My intercomm was by this time
completely useless but managed to repair it enough to hear what was going
on. The crew thought I had been killed during the attacks but after I had
signalled by flashing the lights the wireless operator freed me from my
turret. We had been flying for about an hour when we ran short of fuel and
were ordered to abandon aircraft. On taking my parachute out of its stowage
found it had been shot to pieces so I was forced to watch the rest of the
crew bale out and sat waiting for the crash which came on the top of some
high hills. I managed to scramble out of the burning machine and crawled
away and went to sleep, only to be awakened some six hours later by a
German search party.
Hanover, centre of the German aircraft industry, and the French
town of Montlucon, where there was a large Dunlop factory, were
among the many targets attacked by No. 75 Squadron during
September. Of the attack on Montlucon on the night of the 15th,
the squadron's operations book records that: ‘Sixteen aircraft
dropped their bombs in the target area. This was a concentrated
attack, large fires and heavy explosions being observed. Smoke from
the fires was afterwards seen rising to a height of 12,000 feet.
Inaccurate flak from a few guns was the only opposition and no
enemy aircraft were encountered.’ There were two raids on Hanover,
in the first of which, on 22 September, twenty New Zealand Stirlings
took part, again without loss. But from the second attack five nights
later two of the thirteen bombers despatched were missing. Bomber
Command's losses in these two raids on Hanover were sixty-four
aircraft from the 1389 sorties despatched.
Other September targets for the New Zealand Squadron were the
important industrial town of Mannheim in southern Germany and
the Modane railway centre on the Mont-Cenis route into Italy. It
was during the raid on Mannheim on 5 September that Flight
Sergeant Batger
Warrant Officer W. H. Batger; born Auckland, 1 Mar 1923; stock clerk; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
and his crew reported their second success against
enemy night fighters within six nights. On this same raid the Stirling
captained by Flight Sergeant Whitmore
Pilot Officer R. C. Whitmore; born Pukekohe, 16 Feb 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFFeb 1942; killed on air operations, 28 Sep 1943.
was twice attacked within
a few minutes. After concerted fire from his gunners the first fighter
was seen to turn over, catch fire, and spin down towards the ground.
Attack by a second fighter followed almost immediately but further
accurate fire from the gunners caused it to break away. Shortly
afterwards the Stirling took over the role of hunter when a German
fighter was seen firing on a Lancaster which was burning furiously.
Unfortunately, although the enemy machine was driven off, the
Stirling's intervention was too late to save the Lancaster, which was
seen to break up in mid-air. Pilot Officer Wilkinson
Pilot Officer E. S. Wilkinson; born Havelock, 21 Sep 1917; goods transport operator;
joined RNZAFDec 1941; killed on air operations, 6 Sep 1943.
and his crew,
who had twice been successful in combat during the previous month,
failed to return from this raid on Mannheim.
When the squadron went to Mannheim again towards the end of
the month three more aircraft were lost. Many fighters were up in
defence of this important target, the crew of one Stirling reporting
no fewer than three separate attacks during their sortie. In other
encounters New Zealand aircraft claimed two enemy fighters and
a further three as damaged.
Eighteen Stirlings from No. 75 Squadron bombed the marshalling
yards at Modane on 16 September as part of the force of almost
350 aircraft. Crews reported that flak was largely ineffective although
one aircraft which was hit had to bomb and complete its sortie on
three engines. A Junkers 88 was claimed by the gunners of the
Stirling captained by Pilot Officer G. K. Williams
Flight Lieutenant G. K. Williams; born Te Aroha, 26 Dec 1920; clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1940; p.w. 4 Nov 1943.
which was one of
two squadron aircraft attacked by fighters on this night.
Both ground and air crews of No. 75 Squadron had worked hard
during these months to achieve the maximum effort with their
Stirling bombers. But the Stirling, never a really satisfactory machine,
was now obsolescent and the men still servicing and flying them
could not help but envy their more fortunate comrades in the
Lancaster squadrons. Indeed, during the second half of 1943 the
superiority of the Lancaster, with its greater bomb load, better
performance and lower loss rate, had become even more apparent,
and efforts were being made to hasten the re-equipment of as many
squadrons as possible with Lancasters. Meanwhile, the rising loss
rate among the Stirlings and Halifaxes brought a decision to restrict
the operations of these aircraft to the less difficult targets.
Thus there came a change of emphasis in No. 75 Squadron's
operations and during October, although attacks were made on
targets connected with the German aircraft industry at Kassel,
Frankfurt and Bremen, most of the effort was devoted to mine-
laying. Mannheim, Leverkusen, and Berlin were the only targets in
Germany during November. Then the Stirlings were finally restricted
to minelaying and bombing attacks on the sites the Germans were
building for launching their ‘secret weapons’ against the United
Kingdom. In December and January No. 75 Squadron's effort was
divided between these two tasks, with minelaying taking by far the
larger proportion, while in February it took the squadron's entire
commitment.
After the intense activity of the first three-quarters of 1943, in
which the squadron had taken part in many of the most important
bombing raids, the enforced restriction of operations against
Germany was a keen disappointment for the aircrews. However, in
March 1944 the squadron began converting to Lancasters and was
ready in time to take a prominent part in preparatory operations for
the invasion of the Continent.
While operating over Germany towards the close of 1943,
squadron crews had continued to meet heavy fighter attacks during
which one Me109 was reported destroyed and two others damaged,
but the squadron lost four aircraft. Flight Sergeant Hyde
Warrant Officer J. E. Hyde; born Lockdale, New South Wales, 25 Jun 1921; paper-bag
maker; joined RNZAFNov 1941; p.w. 20 Nov 1943.
was
navigator in a Stirling which failed to return from Leverkusen on
the night of 19 November. Although hit by flak when crossing the
enemy coast, the bomber was able to continue to the target. On
turning for home it was attacked by two Me210s. In the running
battle which followed the Stirling was subjected to five attacks
before the fighters were finally driven off. Ten minutes later the
starboard wing caught fire and the crew was ordered to bale out.
Just as Hyde left the aircraft there was an explosion and he lost
consciousness. ‘The next thing I remember I was floating down
thinking myself very high up. I was enjoying the drop when
suddenly I hit the ground. How high I was when my parachute
opened is a mystery, so I owe my life to providence.’ Hyde had been
injured on landing but managed to crawl to a hedge, where he
waited until two Belgians came along and carried him to a nearby
house. They were members of the Resistance Movement, but a doctor
who examined him decided that he should be taken to hospital and
they were forced to call in the Germans against their will. Hyde
was first taken to a military hospital and later removed to St. Giles'
Hospital in Brussels. Here he received excellent treatment from the
Germans which was in direct contrast to that received after he was
well enough to be removed to a prisoner-of-war camp.
* * * * *
For RAF Bomber Command the last quarter of 1943 had seen the
most difficult phase of operations yet carried out, for it was during
these wintry months that very large forces first operated against
important but distant objectives in central Germany, including
Berlin. This was a different proposition from attacking targets in
the Ruhr and western Germany since it involved many more hours'
flying over heavily defended regions. Nevertheless, in most of the
long-range attacks the bomb load had been well concentrated around
the selected aiming point and the rate of loss kept at an economic
level. The first essential was achieved in the main by constant
improvements in the new radar aids, better navigation by crews, and
a clearer understanding of methods involved in marking the target.
At the same time crippling losses were avoided by such tactics as
diversionary and ‘spoof’ raids together with carefully planned routing
which kept the enemy guessing until the last minute as to the real
target for the night. The diversionary attacks were usually made by
small forces of Mosquitos which took the same route as the main
force for most of the way to the target. The main force then
suddenly altered course and attacked the real target. As a result of
such tactics the Germans were often unable to bring their full
strength of night fighters into action. The ground controller either
divided his forces or else concentrated them at the wrong place.
Goering himself took charge one night and made the wrong guess,
sending his night fighters to one end of Germany while the main
British bomber force went to the other. Renewed efforts were also
made to interfere with the system of communications upon which
the German defences relied for successful interception, and towards
the end of 1943 a separate group was formed in Bomber Command
charged solely with this duty. Its aircraft included both heavy
bombers and night fighters with crews drawn from among the most
experienced men in the Command. The heavy bombers carried
special apparatus which enabled them to jam or interfere with the
German radar and radio signals and with the ground controllers'
radio-telephone instructions, while the Mosquito fighters had equipment for homing on to the radar carried by the German night
fighters and on to the beacons over which they circled whilst
assembling. Simultaneously the efforts of these aircraft of No. 100
Group were supplemented from ground stations in Britain, so that
altogether there was an intensification of the strange ‘war in the
ether’ that had been waged by the scientists, technicians, and airmen
from the outset.
These various counter measures were very necessary, for the
Germans had soon recovered from the shock produced by the
dropping of metallised strips by British bombers and the sudden
fall in the efficiency of their early-warning radar. Indeed, after the
Battle of Hamburg the Germans had reacted with remarkable energy
and promptness. A fighter defence system on altogether new lines
had been quickly improvised in which greater use was made of the
Observer Corps to plot the course of the British bombers. Until the
bombers' target had been guessed, the fighters were kept circling
round a number of beacons. Then, when the German defence
organisation had made up its mind about the target, fighters were
sent there to intercept the British aircraft or to follow and attack
them during the return flight. Orders were broadcast along with a
running commentary giving the height, direction, and whereabouts
of the bomber stream and of the probable target for which it was
making or the actual target it was attacking.
The German night-fighter pilots were now more dependent on
visual interception, and to help them greater numbers of searchlights were deployed in target areas either to catch the bombers in
their cones or to light up the cloud base so that the bombers could
be seen from above, silhouetted against the clouds. Some of the
enemy fighters were also detailed to drop large numbers of flares
high over the targets or to lay these in lanes along the bombers'
probable route as they approached or left their objective. In addition,
a considerable number of single-engined fighters were thrown into
the battle and used to intercept the bombers over the target.
Such tactics brought increasing success to the Germans and, in
spite of jamming and interference with the instructions broadcast
to their fighters and although routes were worked out to cause
maximum deception, British losses began to rise sharply towards the
end of 1943. By that time fighter opposition was no longer being
met only over the target and during the return flight but also on
the outward journey. For the enemy had now given up directing
his fighters to any particular area. Instead they were sent directly
from the beacons they were circling into the bomber stream as it flew
across Germany or even when it was still on its way across the North
Sea. These tactics were not always successful, but when the German
fighters did get into the bomber stream and the weather was
reasonably favourable for interception heavy losses were suffered by
Bomber Command. On 19 February 1944, for example, of the 820
bombers despatched to attack Leipzig, no fewer than 78 failed to
return.
Continued changes and a wide variety of tactics were therefore
necessary for Bomber Command to restrict its casualties. Early in the
New Year it was discovered that the route markers dropped by the
Pathfinders as landmarks and turning points were being used by
the Germans as a guide to the movements and whereabouts of the
bomber stream. To counter this Mosquitos were despatched to drop
misleading markers and fighter flares similar to those used by the
enemy. But before long it was found necessary to abandon the use
of route markers. Fortunately these were no longer indispensable
for by this time the main force was largely equipped with H2S and
the general standard of navigation much improved. In February
1944, when the diversionary attacks by Mosquitos were having little
effect in deceiving the enemy, it was decided to divide the striking
force into two parts and either send the two forces to different
targets or to the same target by different routes. The two shorter
bomber streams were more difficult to plot and also split and
confused the enemy's defence. Again, two separate attacks were
sometimes made on the same target on the same night, with long
enough intervals in between to ensure that the fighter force which
had gone up to intercept the first raid would have landed and
dispersed when the second bomber force arrived. Minelaying aircraft were frequently despatched in considerable numbers by routes
which would suggest to the enemy that they were coming to attack
a city. Forces of several hundred aircraft from the operational
training and conversion units were also sent across the North Sea
until they would be plotted by the enemy radar. Then they turned
back home. A southern route across France into Germany was often
used as the enemy's defences were less efficiently organised there
than in the north and west. Altogether, the essence of Bomber
Command's tactics was variety and as many different methods of
confusing the enemy as possible were employed, no one method
being used too frequently or for too long a time. Even so, it was
a hard struggle to keep down the losses.
* * * * *
Throughout the winter months there was no relaxation of the
effort by RAF Bomber Command, and the massive night raids
continued in their familiar routine. Night after night, after darkness fell over the airfields in eastern England, the bombers would
taxi out one after another, like long strings of ducks, to line up on
the runway. Soon the air resounded with the roar of engines as
heavily laden aircraft lumbered down the mile-long flare path and
took off into the darkness. In many a neighbouring town, village
and hamlet, folk paused to watch and listen as, with navigation
lights on at their various heights, the bombers flew towards the
rendezvous point. Then, with the assembly complete, the lights went
out simultaneously and the whole vast armada, like a huge swarm
of angry wasps, set course over the North Sea. The gunners cocked
their guns, the bomb aimers fused the bombs and they were on their
way, a concentrated mass of machines, stretching upwards for several
thousand feet and filling the sky in a broad stream for twenty miles
along. Soon the Dutch coast loomed up ahead - incredibly soon it
seemed.
Until this moment all was quiet at the German searchlight and
flak batteries. Yet the flak gunners were ready and the searchlight
crews prepared by the movement of a switch to send powerful
beams up into the night sky to greet the raiders. And now as they
crossed the Dutch coast the warning went out to the German defence
posts all over the Continent. Night-fighter units in Holland had
already taken off to intercept the incoming bombers and soon the
first engagements of the great night battle would be taking place.
Simultaneously the crews of other fighter squadrons in the region
of central Germany were standing by ready to take off as the enemy
control plotted the course of the bomber stream and endeavoured
to guess its objective. Sirens sounded in German towns, the bright
lights in the railway marshalling yards were switched off and the
countryside sank into darkness. Night-fighter units which had
assembled in certain areas were now guided closer to the British
bomber stream.
Meanwhile the Lancasters droned on deeper into Germany. A
hail of shells from heavy flak batteries rushed up to meet them as
they passed over the more heavily defended areas. In the brilliant
beams of the searchlights some aircraft were clearly visible and night
fighters closed in to shoot up as many as possible. Ahead lay the
target, still and silent as yet. Then suddenly it would be galvanised
into life; searchlights lit up the sky and hundreds of flashes came up
from the guns on the city's roofs, in its parks and railway sidings.
A few seconds later the leading Pathfinder aircraft dropped the first
target marker. It burst and cascaded to the ground - a mass of green
balls shining brightly - an unmistakable spot of light. More markers
and flares followed, then the main force of bombers sailed in. Above,
hundreds of fighter flares lit up the long stream of aircraft all too
clearly. It seemed lighter than day, and searchlights usually so
bright themselves could hardly pierce the glow of the flares above.
Then tracers came up in all colours as combats took place over the
target. Here and there bombers blew up as they received direct
hits - great slow flashes in the sky leaving a long trail of black
smoke as they disintegrated earthwards. There would be flak bursts
all around as the leading wave of bombers held their course. The
short time they held that course seemed like a lifetime. Then,
relieved of their burden, the Lancasters leapt forward, diving,
weaving and slithering, but they kept straight on over the burning
city with throttles slammed wide open and engines in fine pitch.
Down below, a volcano appeared to be raging as more sticks of
incendiaries fell across the point where the target markers had first
gone down. ‘Cookies’ - huge high-explosive bombs - exploded one
after another with their slow red glow. Photo-flashes burst at all
heights as each bomber took its photographs. It was a galaxy of
light and a living nightmare.
As the last wave of bombers roared over, the fires started by the
first arrivals began to take hold. Against their vivid light the last
squadrons were outlined flying steadily on over the battered city.
The flak died down and the searchlights waved aimlessly. Soon the
area was a mass of flames and billowing smoke and the last aircraft
had dropped its bombs; the rendezvous was reached and the
surviving bombers turned for home.
Berlin was the principal target for the Lancasters of Bomber
Command during the winter months and many New Zealanders
flew with RAF squadrons in the massive attacks that were launched
against the German capital. In addition to its importance as a
political target Berlin contained many large plants and factories
engaged on war production. The aircraft industry was represented
by factories of the BMW, Dornier, Heinkel and Focke-Wulf
companies, and there were important electrical and engineering firms
such as Siemens, Reinmetal Borsig and Daimler Benz.
The main Battle of Berlin, as it came to be called, began in
earnest in mid-November 1943 and continued until the middle of the
following March. During that time sixteen major attacks involving
9130 sorties were launched, and in between these big raids Bomber
Command Mosquitos kept up harassing attacks - a type of operation
they had been carrying out for some time against long-distance
targets with notable success. At first the Germans were surprised by
the weight and persistence of the RAF attack. Fire-engines had to
be requisitioned from cities as far away as Hamburg. On 23
November, the third major raid within the space of five nights,
German Minister Ley declared: ‘Hell itself seems to have broken
loose over us. Mines and explosive bombs keep hurtling down upon
the government quarter. One after another of the most important
buildings began to burn.’ And after the big raid three nights later
Goebbels wrote in his diary: ‘This is a heavy blow. The Fuehrer too
is very much depressed …. the situation has become alarming since
one industrial plant after another has been set on fire.’ However,
by a rapid concentration of guns, searchlights, and night fighters
and by reinforcement of its air-raid defence organisation, the German
capital managed to survive the worst of the onslaught and to inflict
heavier casualties upon the raiders. In the final attack on 24 March
1944, out of the 810 aircraft sent to bomb Berlin 72 were shot down.
Altogether during the battle Bomber Command lost five hundred
aircraft and their crews - some 3000 men - but such losses were not
unexpected in view of the distance of the target and its importance
to the Germans. Berlin was the city above all which they were bound
to defend vigorously, even at the risk of leaving other places un-
protected. Apart from the powerful defences the long flights during
a severe northern winter were a grim test of physical endurance
for the British bomber crews. Moreover, on almost every raid the
German capital was covered by thick cloud which necessitated ‘sky-
marking’ by the Pathfinders to guide the bombing. Describing the
difficulties experienced by his crews Air Marshal Harris writes:
The whole battle was fought in appalling weather and in conditions
resembling those of no other campaign … Scarcely a single crew caught a
glimpse of the objective they were attacking and for long periods we were
wholly ignorant, except from such admissions as the enemy made from time
to time, of how the battle was going. Thousands of tons of bombs were
aimed at the Pathfinders' pyrotechnic sky-markers and fell through unbroken
cloud which concealed everything below it except the confused glare of fires.
Scarcely any photographs taken during the bombing showed anything except
clouds and day after day reconnaissance aircraft flew over the capital to
return with no information. We knew, of course, from what the Germans
said that we were hitting Berlin but we had little idea of which attacks had
been successful and which had gone astray. Then after six attacks reconnaissance aircraft did bring back some not very clear photographs which showed
that we had at last succeeded in hitting the enemy's capital hard; there were
many hundreds of acres of devastation, particularly in the western half of
the city and round the Tiergarten. Then the clouds closed again over Berlin
and the Command made eight more attacks without any means of discovering
whether all or any of them had been as successful as the first six raids. It
was not until March was far advanced and the nights too short for any but
Mosquito attacks on Berlin that an aircraft brought back more photographs
and it was possible to assess the results of the Battle of Berlin as a whole.
Bomber Offensive, pp. 186–7.
Although nothing like such an overwhelming success as the
attacks on Hamburg at the end of the previous July, compared with
the results of all the earlier attacks on Berlin these raids were a
severe blow. There was widespread dislocation of essential services
and interruption of supplies. Industrial damage was heavy. Contemporary German reports indicate that in the first six raids alone
295 factories were hit and 46 completely destroyed. Nevertheless, it
is also clear that under emergency measures production recovered
remarkably quickly in the German capital and it was not finally
crippled until the assault was renewed later in the year.
Many of the bomber crews who took part in the Battle of Berlin
reported eventful sorties. Typical was the experience of Squadron
Leader Baigent
Wing Commander C. H. Baigent, DSO, DFC and bar; born Ashburton, 16 Jan 1923;
joined RNZAFMar 1941; commanded No. 75 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945; died 10 Nov 1953.
and his crew of No. 115 Squadron one night towards
the end of January 1944. Baigent, now on his second tour of opera-
tions, was later to command the New Zealand Bomber Squadron
at the age of twenty-two. Of his seventh trip to Berlin since the
opening of the battle, he writes:
Our Lancaster, ‘N - Nuts’ was approaching Berlin at about 20,000 feet.
There was thick cloud away below, the base lit up by many searchlights
giving the effect of an illuminated white sheet on the floor of a dark room.
Across this white sheet black insects - aircraft in our bomber stream - were
progressing steadily. They stood out clearly and it was a simple matter for
the Hun night fighter to stay above and pounce down every so often to
pick off a trundling bomber. One of them made a pass at us but my gunners
did not see him until the last moment when they yelled a warning and I
began weaving smartly. My enthusiasm for weaving was encouraged by a
shower of tracer and exploding cannon shells all around. The Lancaster was
hit in several places and the port outer engine set on fire. We got it feathered
and luckily the fire went out. We made our bombing run. Then just as the
bomb aimer called ‘bombs away’, a fighter gave us another sharp shower of
cannon shells. The controls went ‘haywire’ but we managed to level up at
about 3,000 feet and headed for home. Both the engineer and rear gunner
were wounded. Very slowly, it seemed, and very lonely we made our gradual
way back, seeing the odd fighter looking for us, but always managing to
find a convenient bit of cloud. The elevators had been hit, necessitating a
big push forward on the stick for the rest of the flight. We managed to
wedge something large between the stick and the seat to stop us from stalling
all the time and in this fashion we eventually reached our base near Ely.
On landing we found one tyre completely missing which helped to make the
landing an interesting one ….
The same night, Pilot Officer Leech
Flight Lieutenant J. S. Leech, DFC; born Westport, 17 Aug 1911; farmer; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
and his crew of No. 158
Halifax Squadron had an unenviable experience. About 150 miles
on the homeward flight from Berlin, the starboard inner engine,
which had been hit by flak, caught fire. Soon it became red hot and
then the propeller flew off, crashing through the fuselage and tearing
along the side from the pilot's to the navigator's compartment.
Although it missed both men the propeller severed instrument
controls and extinguished all lighting inside the aircraft. Aids to
navigation were destroyed and Leech had to navigate his aircraft
back to England, working by torchlight in intense cold from the icy
blast which whistled through the gaping fuselage.
Among New Zealand airmen shot down over Berlin was Flight
Lieutenant Kingsbury,
Flight Lieutenant L. C. Kingsbury, DFC; born Christchurch, 25 May 1916; joined
RAFDec 1938; transferred RNZAFJan 1944; p.w. 2 Jan 1944.
who captained a Lancaster of No. 7 Pathfinder Squadron. Kingsbury had been with Bomber Command from
the outbreak of the war and had survived many hazardous missions,
but on New Year's night 1944 his luck failed him. With one engine
out of action and the port main plane damaged by flak during the
outward flight, he had pressed on through ice-laden clouds to drop
his bombs, but over Berlin the Lancaster, unable to maintain sufficient height, was hit again. It began to go down, completely out of
control. Kingsbury was the last to leave the crippled machine and
his parachute had barely opened before he hit the ground. On
regaining consciousness some hours later he found himself lying in
slushy snow in a clearing in a lonely wood. His left leg was broken
but he managed to crawl to the edge of the wood and find two
forked branches to use as crutches. Finally he hobbled to a roadside
where, after being ignored by several passers-by, he was finally found
by a German policeman.
For men shot down near Berlin there was little chance of evading
capture even if they were uninjured. However, many valiant attempts
were made. For example, one New Zealand bomb aimer, Flight
Sergeant Hunt,
Warrant Officer E.W.D. Hunt; born Rongotea, 20 Mar 1920; farmer; joined RNZAFFeb 1942; p.w. 24 Nov 1943.
of No. 166 Lancaster Squadron, after baling out
from his burning aircraft near Berlin, walked for six days and nights
before being captured. He had struggled on almost continuously to
keep from freezing, only snatching a little sleep when exhausted,
and had covered some 90 miles before he walked into the arms of
a railway patrol.
One further episode from the Battle of Berlin must be recorded.
It concerns a young navigator, Flight Sergeant Lindsay,
Flying Officer R. A. Lindsay, BEM; born Maidenhead, Berkshire, 4 May 1921; clerk;
joined RNZAFDec 1939.
who flew
with No. 83 Lancaster Squadron. When his bomber crashed and
caught fire on landing one wintry December night, Lindsay was
thrown fifty feet in front of the aircraft. He was badly burnt about
the face and sustained a broken arm and a broken ankle. Yet despite
these injuries he dragged himself back to the wreckage, where he
braved both the intense heat and blazing petrol in order to help
extricate his bomb aimer and his flight engineer who were trapped
and seriously injured. He then helped move them to safety. Such
was the standard of courage and comradeship among the bomber
crews.
* * * * *
By the beginning of 1944 the combined Allied air attack on
Germany had reached formidable proportions, and to meet the
mounting scale of the assault radical changes in both the character
and disposition of his air force had been pressed upon the enemy.
Single and twin-engined fighters were transferred from Russia to
Germany at the very moment when the growing superiority of the
Soviet Air Force required a strengthening of German fighter oppo-
sition. In the Mediterranean there was a reduction of German air
strength to a point at which its influence over the course of operations became negligible. In January 1944 some 1650 fighter aircraft,
representing no less than 68 per cent of Germany's total fighter
strength, were concentrated in Western Europe, most of them inside
Germany itself. The enemy was, in fact, being forced to defend his
home front at the cost of serious military reverses elsewhere.
Faced with this growing concentration of strength over Germany
the Allies decided upon a more vigorous attack against the source of
German air power, and on 17 February 1944 directives were sent to
the commanders of the British and American bomber forces in
England ordering first priority to be given to the attacking of the
German aircraft industry.
Two nights later RAF Bomber Command sent 823 aircraft to
Leipzig, where four of the Erla group of Messerschmitt factories
were situated. The following day 184 American Fortresses attacked
the same target and in the two raids five out of ten of the most
important factories in Leipzig suffered severe damage. These attacks
inaugurated what came to be known as ‘The Big Week’, in which
nearly 7000 sorties were flown by British and American bombers
against targets of the German aircraft industry. There was close
co-ordination of the day and night attack, and in unusually clear
and fine weather crews were able to achieve a heavy concentration
of bombing on almost every occasion.
Stuttgart, where there were important aero-engine and component
factories, was the target for 600 RAF bombers on the night of 20
February. Then came heavy attacks on Schweinfurt, the main centre
of the German ball-bearing industry, and Augsburg where there was
a large Messerschmitt assembly plant. Both raids followed American
daylight attacks a few hours earlier. Bomber Command's attack on
Schweinfurt was scattered, but the Augsburg raid by 594 bombers,
which attacked in two waves at an interval of two and a half hours,
was highly successful even though the target area was covered in
snow. Mosquitos which flew over an hour afterwards reported a
solid mass of fires, and photographic reconnaissance confirmed that
the industrial area had suffered severely, many of the principal
factories being heavily damaged.
The effect of this combined and concentrated assault on the
sources of German air power, coming on top of the 1943 attacks,
was dramatic. German production plans were set back by some
months and the German Air Force denied some thousands of aircraft
when it needed them most. Nevertheless, prompt action was taken
by the enemy to meet the deficiency. Aircraft production which had
previously been under the German Air Ministry was now transferred
to the organisation controlled by Speer, the energetic Minister of
Armament Production. Special flying squads were formed to supervise clearance and repair of damaged plants. A thorough policy of
dispersal of the aircraft industry was put into effect and the number
of aircraft types in production drastically reduced.
These measures were to prove remarkably effective, and the
German aircraft industry was able to continue producing the
numbers on the ground. But machines alone were not enough. The
loss of experienced pilots and the lack of a thorough system of
training were now beginning to have a serious effect on the efficiency
of the German fighter force. The Luftwaffe was steadily losing the
battle in the air, and Speer's efforts at production, admirable though
they were, could not save the situation.
It is also worth noting that, while the dispersal of aircraft production to factories underground or hidden in woods was initially
successful in that the Allies were faced with a multiplicity of
targets, it was only achieved at great economic expense and
eventually the dilution of expert supervision made itself felt. In
the end the dispersal increased the load on the German transport
system, and when the Allied attack was subsequently concentrated
on transport the final assembly plants lacked the necessary compo-
nents. ‘It may well be,’ declares the American Post-War Bombing
Survey, ‘that more aircraft were lost out of production because of
dispersal than because of direct bombing.’
The attack on German cities and factories associated with aircraft
production was continued during March 1944 when aircraft of
RAF Bomber Command attacked Frankfurt, Nuremberg and Stutt-
gart, as well as Berlin and Essen. The two raids on Frankfurt, each
by forces of over 800 aircraft, caused widespread destruction
throughout the city. In the second attack on the night of 22 March,
German night fighters were particularly active and there were many
incidents. For Flight Sergeant Windsor
Pilot Officer B. W. Windsor, DFM; born Christchurch, 3 Sep 1914; railway bridgeman;
joined RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 22 May 1944.
of No. 514 Squadron, who
was on his fourth sortie as captain, it proved a particularly hazardous mission. While preparing to make its bombing run his Lancaster
was attacked by a night fighter and both the rear and mid-upper
gunners were killed. Windsor put his machine into a dive in an
effort to escape, but a second burst from the fighter ignited incendiary bombs and set the aircraft on fire. The elevators were damaged
and it took the combined efforts of pilot and flight engineer to pull
the machine out of its dive. The bomb load was then jettisoned and
the fire subdued, but the Lancaster remained extremely difficult to
control so orders were given for the crew to bale out. However,
after the navigator and bomb aimer had left, the loss of weight in
the nose made it seem possible that the machine might be kept
airborne. Windsor therefore cancelled the order to the rest of his
crew and, helped by his flight engineer, managed to regain some
kind of control. It was then discovered that the aircraft was in a
balloon barrage but Windsor was able to gain sufficient height to
get clear. In the meantime his wireless operator had repaired his
damaged transmitter and obtained direction over enemy territory
and the coast. This enabled Windsor to establish his approximate
position and eventually bring the Lancaster and its three surviving
crew members back to their base.
Along with the RAF night raids United States daylight bombers,
with powerful long-range fighter escort, continued to make frequent
incursions deep into Germany and there were hard and bitter air
battles in which the German fighter forces suffered steadily increasing loss. The decisive factor in these battles was the American long-range fighter with a radius of action far in excess of anything
previously experienced. Its appearance was, as Goering himself
declared, ‘a tragedy for the Luftwaffe.’ Its rapid development during
the last months of 1943, after the failure of unescorted daylight
bombing missions, had indeed been an astounding feat of energy
and production and it took the Germans more or less completely by
surprise. When the first Thunderbolts and Mustangs appeared over
Hanover, the report of their presence was received by Goering with
incredulity and the reporting centre concerned was reprimanded.
But shortly afterwards, when his Commander-in-Chief Fighters,
General-Leutnant Galland, took off on patrol to observe the performance of the German fighters, he was chased by four Mustangs
back to Berlin.
Even so Goering insisted that his fighters should not challenge the
American escort but concentrate on their bomber formations.
Galland protested in vain against such purely defensive tactics. The
result was that the Mustangs and Thunderbolt pilots were soon
operating with a marked sense of superiority. German difficulties
were further increased when long-range fighter formations began to
attack airfields and depots deep inside Germany, thus adding to the
destruction caused by Allied bombers in the aircraft factories and
assembly plants.
By April 1944 the ability of the Luftwaffe to defend Germany
against the mounting scale of the Allied attack had passed its
marginal point and was steadily deteriorating whereas the capabilities of the Allies were improving. This trend is revealed in German
records of aircraft losses in combat in the West European theatre.
From 307 machines in January 1944, losses jumped in February to
456, of which 65 were night fighters of the type directed chiefly
against the missions of RAF Bomber Command. The total for the
month of March rises to 567, of which 94 were night fighters.
The German Air Force was, in fact, being swamped by a force
superior both in numbers and in quality. If it was not yet beaten –
for it continued to be capable of occasional bursts of extreme
energy – it nevertheless suffered a severe defeat in the early months
of 1944. That defeat was brought about by attrition of the German
fighter forces in the air and on the ground, by the consequent
deterioration in quality of the German fighter pilots, and by the
attacks on German aircraft production which caused delay in the
expansion of the fighter force. A considerable part of the credit
must be given to the American long-range fighter escort, but by
itself the fighter force could not have carried the battle to the
enemy. It was in a desperate and all-out effort to defend the
industries of the Reich from both the day and night heavy bomber
that the Luftwaffe had been given high, if belated, priority in
production and reorganised into an almost exclusively defensive
force.
Towards the end of 1943 there had been grave doubts concerning the ability of the Allied air forces to beat down the growing
strength of the Luftwaffe sufficiently to make an invasion of Europe
possible. But now as the final preparations for the landings in
Normandy began it was clear that the Allied air forces were well
on the way to achieving the air superiority that would ensure freedom of movement to the Allied armies and navies while denying
it to the enemy. Germany had now been thrown almost completely
on the defensive in the air. She had heavily reduced her bomber
production in order that maximum resources could be devoted to
fighters and defensive equipment. Her fighters and flak were
deployed not on the critical battlefronts or to oppose a possible
landing, but were spread throughout Germany in a desperate attempt
to defend vital targets at home. Nearly a million men were tied down
to these defences and many more were engaged on repair work in
the German industrial centres, many of which had been seriously
disorganised. The air war was not yet won but its outcome was no
longer in doubt.
On 14 April 1944 the British and American bomber forces were
placed under the Supreme Allied Commander, General Eisenhower,
and for the next five months were to be mainly engaged on operations preparing the way for and in support of the Allied armies.
This brought some interruption of the strategic bombing of
Germany, but during the last months of 1944 the Allied bombers
were to return in full strength for the final and overwhelming
assault on the sources of German industrial and military power.
CHAPTER 5
With Mine, Bomb, and Torpedo
Throughout1943 the growing power of the Allied bombing
offensive and the deadly battle with the U-boats were the
dominating features of the air war against Germany. But there were
other campaigns that now absorbed a considerable proportion of
the available effort and resources and which, while unspectacular
in themselves, achieved quite remarkable results. One of these
campaigns, waged continuously throughout 1943, was the attack on
German sea communications in North-West Europe and the Baltic.
This offensive against enemy shipping had started in the early
days of the war but it was not accorded high priority, only such
marginal forces being employed as were available after the requirements of other more important operations had been met. Neverthe-
less, while the tonnage of merchant shipping available to Germany
in these waters at the end of 1940 was adequate, by 1943 the
situation had changed to one of considerable stringency. Moreover,
the Germans were then forced to deploy in defence of their merchant
ships more than 75,000 men, several hundreds of small vessels as
escorts and nearly one-quarter of a million tons as Sperrbrechers -
converted merchant ships specially equipped as minesweepers and
heavily armed escorts.
The greater part of the German and German-controlled merchant
fleet was employed in carrying supplies between Germany and
Scandinavia; to a lesser extent it conveyed military stores to German
forces in Norway and Finland. There was also brisk coastal traffic
between German, Dutch, and Danish ports and some coastwise
movement of military supplies to the East Baltic.
Most important commodities in the enemy trade with Scandinavia
were the import into Germany of iron ore and the export of coal
and coke. Indeed, these accounted over the whole war for about
80 per cent of the total German overseas trade in the North-West
Europe and Baltic areas. Swedish ore was of a very high grade and
of particular value in the manufacture of high-quality steel for
armaments; it was also especially suited to the open-hearth process
of steel manufacture practised in Germany. The imports from
Sweden provided a quarter of Germany's iron-ore requirements for
the Ruhr. Much of this iron ore was unloaded at Rotterdam and
transferred to barges for its onward journey through inland water-
wayswaterways to the steel furnaces of the Ruhr. Indeed Rotterdam, which
was reached by a fairly well-defined route along the Frisian Islands,
received a large proportion of the total traffic through the Kiel
Canal including cargoes from Norway and Finland as well as from
Sweden.
Interruption of this traffic was attempted by two distinct forms
of air action. The first comprised attacks with bombs or torpedoes,
and later with rocket projectiles, by formations of shore-based aircraft against ships at sea or in harbour. Such attacks took place
along the continental seaboard from Calais to Trondheim, but
until the closing stages of the war they were not pressed eastward
into the Skagerrak and the Baltic owing to the limited range and
performance of the early types of aircraft. Torpedoes were used in
the North Sea and off the south-west coast of Norway with good
effect, although north of Stavanger where shipping moved through
sheltered channels they were of less value. From December 1944
the rocket took the place of the torpedo in all areas as by that
time the enemy seldom exposed his shipping during daylight in
those waters where torpedoes could be used. Rockets proved specially
effective off the Norwegian coast in the final stages.
The second method of aerial attack was minelaying by heavy
bombers of the RAF, which was carried on continuously from April
1940 until the end of the war. It started in a small way but, increasing in scale and extent as the war progressed, aerial minelaying in
the end accounted for seven times the number of ships sunk or
damaged by mines laid by surface vessels in the North-West
European area. Air action as a whole was responsible for by far the
largest part of the shipping casualties inflicted upon the enemy in
this same region.
By the beginning of 1943 the majority of the torpedo and
bombing attacks were being carried out by aircraft of RAF Coastal
Command while minelaying from the air was the responsibility of
Bomber Command. Minelaying was, in fact, Bomber Command's
most consistent and effective contribution to the war at sea. It
proved a useful method of giving freshmen crews operational
experience and was also a means of employment for at least part
of the bomber force when weather was not suitable for operations
over Germany. Between January 1943 and February of the following
year, when there came a change of tasks in preparation for the
invasion of Europe, aircrews of Bomber Command laid 16,668
mines, an average of well over one thousand a month.
All main force groups of the Command took a share in the mine-
laying, but No. 3 Group was particularly prominent and its
squadrons laid almost half the total number of mines. As this
Group still had a high New Zealand representation among its aircrews and No. 75 Squadron was one of its units, New Zealanders
took part in many of these missions. During the fourteen months
from January 1943 No. 75 Squadron alone was to lay 1625 mines,
which represented one-fifth of the Group's effort and only slightly
less than one-tenth of the total number of mines dropped by
Bomber Command. To achieve this outstanding result the New
Zealand Squadron despatched 460 sorties, during which eighteen
bombers were lost with their crews.
The main targets of the minelaying aircraft continued to be the
traffic in iron ore from Scandinavia to the Ruhr via Rotterdam, and
the movement of troops and supplies to Norway and to the Eastern
Front through the Baltic. One ship laden with iron ore which was
sunk by a mine in the Kiel Canal blocked it for several weeks.
The 18,000-ton liner Gneisenau, used as a trooper for the Russian
front, became a total wreck in the western Baltic, while another
large troopship carrying ground crews and equipment to north
Norway for Luftwaffe units that were attacking Allied convoys to
Russia was sunk by a mine in the Kattegat. The train-ferry plying
between Sweden, Denmark, and Germany was also a fruitful target.
In addition, mines laid by Bomber Command upset the arrival and
departure of blockade runners, armed merchant raiders, and other
ships using ports on the west coast of France.
With the steady campaign waged against German U-boats entering and leaving their Biscay bases, minelaying also played a part
in the Battle of the Atlantic. It is recorded that on one occasion a
typical German reception, with a band on the pier, was waiting to
greet two submarines returning from a successful Atlantic patrol.
One of the captains, anxious to be first in, manoeuvred his ship
ahead of the other, and in front of the reception his submarine
touched off a mine and was blown to pieces. Mines were also
frequently laid in the U-boat exercising grounds in the Baltic, where
training of U-boat crews was often interrupted. Altogether, twenty-six German U-boats were sunk by mines during the war, sixteen
of them by mines laid by the Royal Air Force. Areas through which
German warships might pass were also mined in the hope of causing
delay and damage. The whole campaign compelled the enemy to
retain large numbers of skilled naval personnel and valuable
materials for the sweeping of widely spaced harbours and channels
used by his shipping.
At the beginning of 1943 Bomber Command was faced with new
problems in its minelaying, as the Germans had reacted strongly to
the increased activity of the previous year. Night fighters now made
more frequent interceptions while anti-aircraft guns and flak ships
placed in the vicinity of the most vulnerable areas took a heavier
toll of the British bombers. What the bomber crews had considered
a simple mission now became as dangerous as the bombing raids on
some land targets, for the successful laying of mines still depended
on aircraft flying in low to the dropping point. This was necessary
not only to achieve accuracy but also to avoid exploding the mines
by the shock of impact, which was likely to happen if they were
dropped from a height exceeding 1000 feet. Until the scientists
could devise ways for aircraft to drop from higher levels, mining
was generally restricted to more open areas where there was less
chance of interception by night fighters and the dangers from flak
were not so great. Even so, losses continued to be relatively heavy;
there were frequent reports of combats with enemy fighters and many
machines returned bearing signs of encounters with enemy anti-aircraft batteries.
On the night of 18 January Sergeant Bennett was captain of one
of two Stirlings from No. 75 Squadron sent to lay mines in the
Gironde estuary. This was his first operation as captain of aircraft.
On approaching the French coast the bomber was attacked by a
Messerschmitt 110 but, before it could do any damage, the mid-upper and rear gunners had both fired sharp bursts, upon which
the fighter pulled over on to its back and disappeared. The Stirling
then carried on and dropped its mines in the estuary, but on the
way out the crew found themselves flying over several German
flak ships. These put up an intense barrage, rocking the Stirling, but
it managed to get clear. No sooner had a course been set for base
when a Junkers 88 was sighted to port. Bennett took evasive action
but the enemy machine hung on without opening fire. Describing
this incident later, Bennett said:
The reason for this soon became obvious when my rear gunner gave me
directions for turning away from another Junkers from the rear. Each
German fighter appeared to be acting as a decoy for the other. Had I
adopted my rear gunner's direction we should have been exposed to the fire
of the fighter on our port wing.
The rear and mid-upper gunners were able to get in bursts at the
enemy on their tail, who was so close that when he returned fire
the gunners could actually hear the noise of the German cannon.
Bennett continued:
At this stage we were down to almost the level of the sea and must have
been silhouetted against reflection of the moon – a sitting bird for the
enemy. But luck was on our side and a thick blanket of cloud suddenly
appeared and gave us protection. We lost the fighters.
Once more a course was set for base but again the crew found
themselves over the flak ships; however, they soon got clear. The
action had been so violent that everything movable in the Stirling
had been thrown on to the floor and the navigator, who had been
sitting behind the pilot, retrieved his maps from well forward over
the bomb-sight, down in the nose of the aircraft.
One night in February a lone Stirling of No. 149 Squadron
captained by Flying Officer Drummond
Squadron Leader L. J. Drummond, DFC; born Auckland, 10 Aug 1913; solicitor;
joined RNZAFMay 1941.
ran the gauntlet of search-
lightssearchlights and batteries defending the entrance to the port of Bordeaux
when it was detailed to drop mines within half a mile of the shore.
At first all went well. A pinpoint was obtained in the vicinity of
the dropping zone and Drummond began the run to lay his mines
at a height of only 800 feet. The night was particularly clear, with
a bright full moon which made it easier to find the dropping area.
At the same time, however, it enabled the Stirling to be readily
picked out by shore batteries, and as no other aircraft were flying
in the area at that moment, the bomber soon became a magnet for
the enemy defences on both sides of the river. Although sought by
numerous searchlights and the target for both heavy and light flak,
Drummond held firmly to his course and the mines were laid in
the correct position. Unfortunately, as he turned away the Stirling
was hit by several anti-aircraft shells which knocked out all three
gun-turrets and damaged navigational instruments. Three members
of the crew were wounded. During the return flight Flight Sergeant
Harvey,
Flying Officer W. L. Harvey, DFM; born Dunedin, 6 Feb 1920; labourer; joined RNZAFDec 1940; killed on air operations, 14 Jan 1944.
the wireless operator, although bleeding profusely from a
deep head wound and suffering considerable pain, remained at his
post and obtained a number of fixes and bearings which greatly
assisted Drummond in navigating his damaged machine back to its
base.
Bomber Command's record lay of mines during 1943 took place
in April when 1887 mines were released in all the principal areas.
More than half this total was dropped on two successive nights in
response to an Admiralty request to drop a new type of mine which
employed a combination of acoustic and magnetic fuses designed to
defeat current German minesweeping methods. To secure a
maximum of surprise it was essential that these mines should be
laid in quantity at all the principal minefields within a matter of
hours. Therefore on two successive nights towards the end of April
when weather over Germany was unsuitable for bombing operations,
strong forces were turned to minelaying. The first night a force of
160 Lancasters, Halifaxes, Stirlings and Wellingtons laid 458 mines
along the French west coast and Frisian Islands, and on the second
a total of 226 bombers dropped 593 mines in the Heligoland Bight,
off the Norwegian coast, in the Kattegat and Baltic Approaches, and
in channels off the Baltic ports from Kiel to the Gulf of Danzig. On
both occasions the mines were laid from low level underneath a
layer of cloud. On the 27th when the nearer areas were tackled only
one aircraft was missing, but twenty-three bombers failed to return
from the more distant and difficult fields.
Many New Zealanders flew in aircraft from RAF squadrons,
while No. 75 Squadron was represented on both of these important
missions. On 27 April the four New Zealand Stirlings laid their
mines and returned safely to base but the following night, when
eight aircraft were sent to Kiel Bay, four failed to return. Ten New
Zealanders were among the missing crews, including two captains,
Pilot Officer D. L. Thompson and Sergeant Halliburton.
Sergeant K. Halliburton; born Ashburton, 14 Oct 1919; butcher; joined RNZAF Sep
1941; killed on air operations, 28 Apr 1943.
The crews
who returned reported no sightings of enemy aircraft but heavy
anti-aircraft fire came from a flak ship stationed in the mining area.
Progress was now being made in the difficult task of developing
a new technique that would outwit the German defences and their
methods of assessing the numbers and positions of mines laid. By
March the packing material which protected the delicate mechanism
of the mines had been improved sufficiently to allow them to be
dropped from heights up to 3000 feet. In the following months
there was further patient experiment, and although many missions
in open areas continued to be carried out at low level, from August
onwards mines were laid regularly in some of the more dangerous
zones from a height of 6000 feet. As a result there was a substantial
fall in the loss rate which had been so severe at the beginning of the
year.
The possibilities of high-level minelaying from normal bombing
heights between 12,000 to 15,000 feet had been appreciated as early
as May 1943, but before this became a practical proposition much
research had to be undertaken. Eventually special mines were
produced in which packing materials and parachutes had been
further improved. Then a pathfinder technique was evolved, so that
when necessary a high concentration of mines could be achieved
by the use of sea or sky markers accurately placed with the aid of
H2S.
But it was not until the end of 1943 that the persistent efforts of
all concerned were fully rewarded, and high-level minelaying became
an accomplished fact with the first operational trial on the night
of 30 December. This was flown by three Stirlings of No. 149
Squadron which were sent to lay mines off Bordeaux from a height
of 12,000 feet. The aircraft were opposed by accurate heavy flak but
laid their mines successfully. Two New Zealanders, Flying Officer
Barlow
Flight Lieutenant H. C. Barlow, DFC; born Opotiki, 3 Apr 1909; clerk; joined RNZAFJan 1942.
and Flying Officer Stock,
Flight Lieutenant N. F. Stock, DFC; born Nelson, 5 May 1914; mental hospital attendant;
joined RNZAFJan 1942.
were navigator and bomb aimer
respectively in one Stirling. Stock was not satisfied with the first
approach to the dropping zone and asked for a second run to be made
before he was confident the mines would be laid in the correct
position. Other experimental missions were to be flown. On 4
January 1944 six Lancasters laid mines off Brest and two nights
later six Halifaxes operated in the same area. Thereafter the high-level method was generally adopted for operations in the heavily
defended areas. Continuous, large-scale minelaying again became
possible in all areas extending from the Franco-Spanish frontier to
the Gulf of Danzig and, in particular, in certain of the Baltic areas
where for over a year it had been virtually impossible to mine with
the low-flying visual technique.
With new weapons it was no longer necessary for aircraft to fly
at low heights to search for a pinpoint before beginning their run
up to the laying positions, while by using H2S mines could be
dropped with precision through thick cloud. Increased safety was
also given to the attacking aircraft and the enemy was presented
with new problems in plotting the positions of the mines laid.
Now that the enemy's most heavily defended harbours and swept
channels were again vulnerable to minelaying there was a rapid
increase in the number of sorties carried out, and many New
Zealanders were among the aircrews who took part in the operations
during January and February 1944 in which this new method of
sea warfare was used. New Zealand airmen also took part in a new
tactical development introduced on the night of 24 February when
115 aircraft were sent to lay mines in Kiel Harbour, the Kattegat,
and Lorient as a diversion for a main-force bombing attack by over
700 aircraft on Schweinfurt. The next night minelaying was again
used as a diversion for a main-force attack of almost 600 aircraft
on Augsburg, the areas mined being St. Nazaire, The Sound and
Kiel. The co-ordination of minelaying and bombing operations in
this manner gave additional protection to both forces by confusing
the enemy ground organisation and splitting the fighter force available in the area of the attacks.
Although No. 75 Squadron despatched aircraft on minelaying
sorties in each of the first nine months of 1943, the greater part of
its effort was to be concentrated in the last quarter of that year and
the first two months of 1944. This emphasis on minelaying followed
the decision taken in September that the Halifax and Stirling
squadrons should be restricted to the less hazardous targets, leaving
the Lancaster to bear the brunt of the bomber offensive.
In October and November 1943 squadron aircraft laid a total of
176 mines in the Baltic, the Bay of Biscay, in the Gironde estuary,
and off the Frisian Islands and the port of Cherbourg. On the night
of 24 October one Stirling which laid mines off the Frisian Islands
crashed when about to land and was burnt out. Three New
Zealanders including the captain, Flight Sergeant Randle,
Flight Sergeant J. R. Randle; born Invercargill, 11 Jun 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 24 Oct 1943.
were
among those killed. The 4th November was a particularly unfortunate night for the squadron when, of the four aircraft sent to
lay mines in the Baltic, three failed to return. Their captains were
Flying Officer Wilson
Flying Officer N. C. B. Wilson; born Auckland, 12 May 1920; electrical draughtsman;
joined RNZAFDec 1941; killed on air operations, 4 Nov 1943.
and Pilot Officers Masters
Pilot Officer W. S. Masters; born Waiuku, 27 Mar 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFFeb 1942;
killed on air operations, 4 Nov 1943.
and G. K.
Williams; eight other New Zealanders were among their crews.
The surviving aircraft, flown by Flying Officer Witting,
Flight Lieutenant E. F. Witting, DFC; born Invercargill, 28 May 1920; clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1941.
was
attacked by an enemy fighter when approaching the mining area
and the rear gunner was killed. Witting succeeded in jettisoning his
mines during the combat and then skilfully outmanoeuvred the
enemy machine. Although the Stirling had sustained severe damage
to the port wing, starboard flap and rear turret, and also had many
large holes torn in the fuselage, Witting flew back to base and
made a safe landing. In December ten minelaying missions, involving
twenty-nine aircraft, were flown by No. 75 Squadron and 108 mines
laid; unfortunately, during the month two Stirlings crashed on
return after laying their mines. One of these machines was flown
by Pilot Officer Kinross,
Pilot Officer C. J. Kinross; born Hastings, 7 Oct 1913; carpenter; joined RNZAFDec 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Dec 1943.
who had Flying Officer Jenkin
Flying Officer R. F. Jenkin; born New Plymouth, 2 Oct 1920; student; joined RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Dec 1943.
as his
navigator.
The scale of No. 75's effort during January was to be considerably increased, 72 sorties being flown to lay 233 mines in the
Heligoland area, the Frisian Islands, in the Gironde estuary and in
Kiel Bay The New Zealanders' first experience of high-level minelaying came on the night of 27 January, when thirteen aircraft were
sent to the Heligoland area and succeeded in dropping a total of
sixty-five mines from heights varying between 12,000 feet and
15,500 feet. All the aircraft got back, but the Stirling captained by
Pilot Officer Baker
Flying Officer C. R. Baker, DFC; born Palmerston North, 20 Jul 1922; student; joined
RNZAFFeb 1942; killed in flying accident, 16 Apr 1945.
was intercepted by a Messerschmitt 110 whilst
on the return flight. The enemy was first sighted on the starboard
side and bomber and fighter opened fire simultaneously. Before
Baker could take evasive action and gain the cover of cloud his
aircraft was hit; the rear turret and intercommunication system were
put out of action and the flight engineer and mid-upper gunner
wounded. Displaying fine airmanship Baker got the Stirling back
to England, but on attempting to land at Coltishall he found the
undercarriage would not go down; he succeeded, however, in
making a safe crash-landing.
In February the squadron's effort was entirely devoted to minelaying and in twenty operations 120 aircraft were despatched to lay
no fewer than 372 mines. Towards the end of the month, when minelaying aircraft were used as a diversion for the bombing attacks on
Schweinfurt and Augsburg, the squadron sent fifteen aircraft to Kiel
Harbour on the first occasion and the next night the same number
went to The Sound. The Stirling captained by Flight Sergeant
Bruhns
Pilot Officer H. H. Bruhns; born Dunedin, 27 Feb 1921; wool classer; joined RNZAFJan 1942; killed on air operations, 24 Feb 1944.
failed to return from Kiel but there were no losses the
second night, although Flight Sergeant Willis
Pilot Officer W. J. Willis; born Bulls, 3 Feb 1911; farmer; joined RNZAFMar 1942;
killed on air operations, 22 May 1944.
and his crew reported
a brush with several Junkers 88s flying in formation.
The results of the minelaying campaign were difficult to assess
at the time owing to the delayed action of mines which might lie
for a considerable time before claiming a victim and because of loss
or damage to enemy vessels caused by other methods of attack.
However, reports of casualties in mined areas were frequent and
covered many classes of shipping including troopships, cargo vessels,
tankers, train ferries, naval surface craft and U-boats, while the
large sweeping force also suffered heavily in its efforts to keep
channels and harbours clear of mines. Evidence of the effectiveness
of minelaying in the Baltic was provided by the Naval Liaison
Officer at German Air Force Operations Division in April 1943.
He stressed the shortage of escort vessels which allowed escorts to
be provided only for troopships, transports, tankers, hospital ships,
and warships in those waters where the greatest danger was from
mines and where all ships should have been provided with individual
escort. In February 1944 the same officer reported: ‘It is evident
that the enemy intends to interrupt, if not destroy, all supply
shipping to Norway by the relatively heavy use of mines. It is now
being decided whether night fighters in the Jutland area can be
reinforced.’
The German anxiety is understandable for it is now evident that
the RAF minelaying campaign was more successful than was
estimated at the time. Post-war examination of enemy shipping
records and reports received by Lloyds of London reveals that,
during 1943, some 143 ships totalling just over 103,450 tons were
sunk by mines laid by aircraft. In 1944 the Germans lost a further
204 ships of 136,500 tons, and by the end of the war the total had
reached 758 ships amounting to 721,700 tons, sunk as a result of
aerial minelaying. In addition to these actual losses, which they
could not hope to replace, the Germans were deprived of large
quantities of badly needed war materials, which delayed production.
They were also forced to divert an increasing amount of their manpower and materials to the repair of damaged ships and to the
protection of their sea routes.
* * * * *
Bomber Command's minelaying campaign during 1943 was
supplemented by torpedo and bombing attacks carried out mainly by
Beaufighters and Hampdens of Coastal Command. The torpedo was
now the principal weapon and there were two main areas of attack,
the Dutch coast from the Frisian Islands to Rotterdam and the south-western coast of Norway. In both these regions there was to be a
steady development of aerial attack during 1943. Operations fell
into two main classes – the ‘Rover’ patrol flown by small formations
of from two to six machines and the ‘Strike’ by larger forces with
fighter escort, against targets previously located by reconnaissance
aircraft. Rover patrols were more frequently employed along the
Norwegian coast where convoys were less heavily defended; Strike
Wings were gradually developed for attacks off the Dutch coast
where there was usually stronger opposition.
At the beginning of the year No. 489 New Zealand Squadron
was one of several Hampden squadrons employed in patrol and
attack along the Norwegian coast. This New Zealand torpedo-bomber squadron had been formed at Leuchars in Scotland in
August 1941 and during the next twelve months it had experienced
a chequered career. The early training was interrupted by shortages
of torpedo aircraft and some months elapsed before No. 489 was
finally equipped with Hampdens discarded by Bomber Command.
Then its role was suddenly changed to anti-submarine work and the
first operational sorties were flown over the Bay of Biscay. It was
not until July 1942 that the squadron returned northwards to take
up its originally intended task of attacking enemy shipping in
northern waters. During the closing months of that year there were
several successful attacks on enemy ships; the Hampdens also flew
escort patrols to naval forces proceeding to and from Scapa, covered
convoys bound for Russian Arctic ports, and searched for U-boats
travelling to and from bases in Norway.
January 1943 found the New Zealand Squadron based at Wick
on the north-east coast of Scotland under the command of an English
pilot, Wing Commander Darling.
Wing Commander V. C. Darling, OBE; RAF; born Acton, London, 8 Sep 1915; Cranwell cadet; permanent commission RAF1936; commanded No. 86 Sqdn, 1942; No. 489
(NZ) Sqdn, 1942–43; duty with Directorate of Ops (Air Staff), 1944.
New Zealanders now made up a
substantial part of the aircrew strength of the unit but there was
still strong representation from other parts of the Commonwealth,
from Canada and Australia as well as from the British Isles.
Squadron Leader Evans
Wing Commander G. H. D. Evans, DSO, DFC; RAF; born Poplar, London, 29 May
1917; Cranwell cadet; permanent commission RAF1937; commanded No. 415 Sqdn,
1943.
of London and Squadron Leader James
Wing Commander R. H. James; born Ross-on-Wye, Herefordshire, 4 Oct 1917; joined
RAF1936; killed on air operations, 8 Aug 1944.
of
Ross-on-Wye were the flight commanders, while Flight Lieutenant
Mottram
Squadron Leader A. J. Mottram, DFC; born Coventry, Warwickshire, 8 Jun 1920;
joined RAFJul 1940.
of Coventry, the prominent English tennis player, Flying
Officer Pedersen,
Flight Lieutenant H. Pedersen; born Copenhagen, 6 Jan 1918; joined RAFNov 1940.
a Danish pilot, Warrant Officer Dubbery
Flight Lieutenant J. Dubbery, DFC; born Newport, Essex, 2 Dec 1918; aero dynamicist;
joined RAFMar 1940; p.w. 14 May 1943.
from
Essex and Warrant Officer Strain,
Flying Officer J. Strain, DFC, AFC; born Glasgow, 9 Dec 1912; joined RAFSep 1939.
a Scot from Glasgow, all won
distinction as captains of aircraft during 1943. New Zealand pilots
who had notable success in operations with the squadron at this time
were Flying Officer Richardson,
Flight Lieutenant J. J. Richardson, DFC; born Toowoomba, Australia, 12 Jan 1915;
joined RNZAFDec 1940; p.w. 18 Jan 1943.
Flying Officer Freshney,
Flying Officer C. J. Freshney; born Takapuna, 27 Nov 1921; spare-parts assistant;
joined RNZAFDec 1940; killed on air operations, 4 Apr 1943.
Flying
Officer Moyniham,
Squadron Leader F. K. Moyniham, DFC; born Nelson, 2 Jun 1921; clerk; joined
RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 17 Jun 1944.
Flying Officer Pettitt,
Flying Officer I. A. Pettitt; born Dunedin, 28 May 1922; postman; joined RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 14 May 1944.
Flying Officer Latta,
Flying Officer S. Latta; born Greymouth, 20 Dec 1916; photographer; joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 9 Apr 1943.
and Warrant Officer Dunn.
Flight Lieutenant R. C. Dunn; born Kaiapoi, 28 Aug 1915; clerk; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
Richardson and his crew were lost in mid-January whilst attacking
enemy ships off the Naze. The first run was unsuccessful as
Richardson's vision was spoilt by oil from an overgreased front
gun. Accurate anti-aircraft fire was met as he turned to make a
second attempt, and it was during this second approach that the
Hampden was shot down by the ship's gunners. Fortunately the crew
survived the crash-landing on the sea and were picked up by the
enemy shortly afterwards. A few weeks later Freshney's Hampden
was shot down whilst he was leading the attack on a convoy off
Kristiansund; all the crew were lost.
The low-level approach necessary to aim torpedoes meant that
aircraft usually had to face an intense barrage of flak from the ships'
guns and sometimes from shore batteries as well. In a typical attack
early in April against a well-defended convoy off Obrestad two of
the four Hampdens were lost. One machine crashed into the sea just
after dropping its torpedo, while the second was shot down by a
fighter after it had been hit by flak; a third Hampden managed to
escape after a cannon shell had passed through its tail.
As the months passed the obsolete Hampdens faced further
hazards. Not only did the Germans begin to install their latest
single-engined fighters, the Focke-Wulf 190s, in Norway but they
also employed considerable cunning in the movement of convoys.
These would often sail at night or in poor visibility by day. At
other times they would lie at anchor, hidden close up to the steep
cliffs of the Norwegian fiords, where they were difficult to locate
and attack.
The Norwegian coast, awe-inspiring in appearance, was not the
most pleasant area to patrol at any time. Navigators found the
coastline most difficult because of its monotonous similarity. Often
the first landfall would be a cluster of islands, giving way to
mountains and fiords in the background. Conditions were seldom
suitable for good reconnaissance and the times when crews could
have a good look round were so few that they could not get to
know the whole of that wild and rugged coastline from Aalesund
in the north to Kristiansund in the south.
The weather in that region was most treacherous and subject to
sudden and violent changes. An aircraft might be flying in thick
cloud almost down to sea level when suddenly it would come out
into clear skies and bright sunshine; then it fell an easy victim to
enemy fighter patrols. Again, whilst exploring channels for possible
targets, crews needed to be sure that the particular channel they
entered had an outlet to the sea at the other end. It could be most
disconcerting to find the aircraft heading for a wall of rock,
especially since some of the fiords were so narrow that a modern
aircraft could not easily be turned in them, while the cliffs on
either side were so high that it was difficult to climb over them
at short notice. Low flying along the channels amongst the islands
could, however, be most exhilarating, and sometimes crews would
receive an encouraging wave from friendly Norwegians. But they
might equally well be greeted with a burst of anti-aircraft fire, for
the Germans had established concentrations of flak guns at certain
points along the coast, and a machine flying into such an area
could find itself in a very unpleasant situation. However, as the
Germans usually placed their guns half-way up the sides of the
fiords, Allied airmen found that by flying very low they forced the
Germans to depress their weapons so far that they were firing at
each other across the water.
Eighteen attacks on enemy ships were reported by No. 489
Squadron during the first half of 1943. An early success was shared
with No. 455 Australian Squadron when at dusk one evening
towards the end of January seven Hampdens, four of them from
No. 489 Squadron, attacked the 3200-ton Ahrensburg close to the
coast near Stavanger. They met sharp anti-aircraft fire from the
ship and shore batteries also intervened to divert their attack. But
the Hampdens went in to drop their torpedoes at low level and
score hits. There were large explosions, debris was hurled into the
air, and a cloud of smoke rose from the ship. A few minutes later
crews had the unusual satisfaction of seeing her sink by the stern.
April 1943 was a particularly active month for the New
Zealanders. On the 4th a large merchant ship, estimated at some
7000 tons, was torpedoed by Latta. After the attack his crew saw
the vessel heading for the shore, very much down by the bows and
listing heavily; she subsequently became a total loss. A few days
later hits were reported on a tanker and one of two merchant ships
in convoy near Stadlandet. Of his attack on the tanker Flight
Lieutenant Willis
Squadron Leader G. E. Willis, DFC, AFC; RAF; born London, 27 Jan 1921; clerk;
joined RAFJun 1940.
relates:
We were on the look-out for enemy ships, in excellent visibility, when
suddenly we spotted two enemy aircraft. We wondered what they were
protecting and went in to investigate. Then we saw the convoy. There was
a large tanker, a medium size merchant ship, and a smaller vessel. They were
lying in the lee of the fiord right up against the cliff. All three ships opened
fire as we approached. We dropped our ‘Fish’ and took sharp evasive action
from both the flak and the enemy fighters, one of which was now firing
at us. As I broke away the tanker burst into flames; they seemed to shoot
up several hundred feet into the air and a few minutes later there was a
mushroom of dense black oily smoke spreading over the fiord at a height
of some 2000 feet.
Two of the four Hampdens which made this attack were shot
down. The first, captained by Flying Officer Latta, was heavily hit
during its approach and crashed into the sea shortly afterwards.
The second, captained by Flying Officer Wheeler,
Flying Officer D. W. Wheeler; born Leicester, England, 24 Nov 1919; accountant;
joined RAFFeb 1940; killed on air operations, 9 Apr 1943.
was shot down
by a German fighter. Warrant Officer Dubbery saw a hit on one of
the merchantmen but reported being twice attacked by enemy aircraft and having to switchback to avoid their cannon fire. In another
action only a few weeks later Dubbery and his crew of three New
Zealanders were shot down by German fighters. They survived the
crash-landing on the sea and, after five hours in their dinghy, were
picked up at dusk by a Finnish ship which had nearly run them down.
As the Finns were allied with the Germans against Russia at this
time, the airmen were landed at Egersund that night and became
prisoners of war.
Towards the end of April two hits on merchant ships in convoy
near Obrestad were reported after an attack by four Hampdens.
They were led by Squadron Leader Hughes,
Wing Commander P. A. Hughes, DFC; RAF; born Bath, Somerset, 18 Nov 1918;
Cranwell cadet; permanent commission RAF1939; p.w. 8 Aug 1944.
who had taken over
a flight at the beginning of this month. In another action which
Hughes led against a convoy off the Naze, intense opposition came
from both ships and shore batteries. Enemy fighters also appeared on
the scene and crews were unable to see the result of their attacks.
However, reconnaissance aircraft flying over the scene shortly afterwards found one of the ships, a large vessel of some 6000 tons,
lying on the rocks close to the shore, a total wreck.
The summer months saw a considerable part of No. 489's effort
diverted to anti-submarine patrols in the area to the north of
Scotland. There were also several air-sea rescue missions. On one
occasion a dinghy containing the crew of a Fortress aircraft, which
had been shot down after attacking and sinking a German U-boat,
was found after a sustained search. It was then kept under observation for two days by relays of Hampdens until the survivors were
picked up by a surface vessel.
August 1943 brought a change of leadership for No. 489
Squadron when Wing Commander Dinsdale
Wing Commander J. S. Dinsdale, DSO, DFC; born Christchurch, 24 Apr 1913; joined
RAFAug 1938; transferred RNZAFJan 1944; commanded No. 489 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943–44;
No. 155 (GR) Wing, Coastal Command, 1944.
succeeded Wing Commander Darling as squadron commander. Dinsdale was a New
Zealander who had served with Coastal Command since the outbreak of war. He had commenced his first operational tour with
No. 42 Torpedo Bomber Squadron on 3 September 1939 and had
flown with this squadron in the early operations off the Dutch and
Norwegian coasts. He had taken part in a torpedo attack on the
German battleship Lutzow and led a flight of Beauforts against the
three German warships fleeing up the Channel. Later, in May 1942,
he had led a daylight torpedo attack against the Prinz Eugen in a
Norwegian fiord and scored a torpedo hit on the warship.
The appointment of a New Zealander to command the squadron
came at an appropriate moment in its development, since it was now
about to re-equip with Beaufighter aircraft and enter upon a most
successful phase of operations. At the beginning of October No.
489 began a move to Leuchars, in south-east Scotland, and was withdrawn from operations to carry out re-equipment and training with
the new machines. Shortly afterwards No. 455 Australian Hampden
Squadron, which was later to combine with No. 489 to form an
Anzac Strike Wing, was also withdrawn from the line for the
same purpose.
Before this move took place, however, No. 489 Squadron scored
one more success with the Hampdens. This was on 16 September
when, during a Rover patrol along the south-west coast of Norway,
four crews sighted and attacked a small convoy lying in a fiord. The
formation was led by Flying Officer Moyniham, who scored a
torpedo hit on a medium-sized merchant vessel. It later sank.
Moyniham told afterwards how they had sighted the two merchant
vessels and their three escorts lying close inshore and apparently
forming up in convoy. ‘All five ships and the shore batteries opened
fire with both light and heavy flak,’ he said. ‘We dropped our
torpedoes and my rear-gunner saw the leading ship almost
obliterated with spray as the torpedo exploded near its bow. We
didn't stay to see any more as there was no cloud and we expected
enemy fighters.’ Although one of the aircraft in the formation
received slight damage from flak during this attack, all returned
safely to base.
Some of the squadron's Hampdens, now accorded an honourable
retirement, had been on operations for as long as the squadron had
been in action. ‘A’ for Apple, with its villainous crest of a Hampden
rampant, had flown on twenty-six sorties. It took part in the sinking
of the 5000-ton Karpfunger in September 1942, the squadron's first
success against enemy shipping. ‘G’ for George was an even greater
veteran. It was this aircraft which had been in combat with two
enemy fighters over the Bay of Biscay on 13 June 1942, and which
lived to fly another thirty sorties and also take part in the sinking
of the Karpfunger. Another veteran was ‘S’ for Sugar, which had
begun its career in June 1942 and had led the attack on the 3200-ton
Abrensburg on 29 January 1943. It did another twenty-three trips
with the same crew and then another ten, during which time it was
damaged, rebuilt, and returned to operations.
During the year's operations from Scotland, the Hampdens of
No. 489 Squadron had been credited with the sinking of 36,000
tons and the damaging of a further 30,000 tons of enemy shipping,
including tankers, ore ships, transports and coasters. The aircraft
had flown both by day and by night searching for targets along
the Norwegian coast, and often when there was little cloud cover
to give the slow Hampdens a chance against the fighters, they had
gone in to attack. The crews had not always been able to see the
results of their attacks, but some of them had been dramatic and
were later confirmed by photographic reconnaissance or from
Intelligence sources. Altogether, 1943 had been a very successful
year for the squadron, but even better results were expected when,
re-equipped with Beaufighters, it returned to the front line in
January 1944.
* * * * *
Among the New Zealanders flying with other Coastal Command
squadrons on anti-shipping patrols during 1943, the outstanding
personality was Squadron Leader Sise
Wing Commander G. D. Sise, DSO and bar, DFC and bar; born Dunedin, 21 Jan 1917;
joined RNZAFOct 1939; Wing Commander anti-shipping tactics, Coastal Command,
1943–44; commanded No. 248 Sqdn, 1944–45; RAF Station, Mount Farm, 1945;
transferred RAFAug 1947.
who was with No. 254
Beaufighters of the North Coates Wing. This was the first of the
Strike Wings formed in Coastal Command, and Sise had led the
torpedo-carrying Beaufighters in their first mission in November
1942. For his leadership in this and subsequent attacks he was made
a member of the Distinguished Service Order in July 1943. Flying
Officer Palmer
Flying Officer W. G. Palmer; born Dunedin, 21 Mar 1916; clerk; joined RNZAF Jun
1941; killed on air operations, 5 Nov 1943.
and Flight Sergeant Simpson
Flying Officer J. J. Simpson; born Christchurch, 21 Mar 1919; carpentry apprentice;
joined RNZAFJul 1941.
also piloted Beaufighters of No. 254 Squadron during that year.
A typical action was fought by the North Coates Wing on 13
June 1943, when a convoy of four merchant ships, escorted by five
M class minesweepers and four trawlers, was attacked off Den
Helder. The British force consisted of eleven torpedo-carrying
Beaufighters, nine anti-flak Beaufighters armed with cannon and
each carrying two bombs, and nine Beaufighters armed with cannon
and machine guns. They were escorted by four squadrons of long-range Spitfires, and as the fighter pilots circled above they saw the
largest ship hit amidships by at least one torpedo; it swung out
of line and was last seen listing heavily. Two trawlers and one
minesweeper were also reported hit and on fire, while a second
merchant ship, photographed at a late stage of the attack, showed
only her central structure above water, with trawlers standing by.
Only one Beaufighter was lost, although several returned damaged
by flak from the ships.
The development of large-scale attacks by Strike Wings was the
outstanding feature of Coastal Command's anti-shipping operations
during 1943. It proved the answer to the increased flak defences of
the German convoys which had caused heavy losses in low-level
bombing and torpedo attacks. The escort of Spitfires could deal
with any enemy fighters which attempted to intervene while the
Beaufighters, armed with cannon and machine guns, cleared the way
for the torpedo attack, raking the decks of the surface escort vessels
to disorganise the gunners and divert fire from the torpedo aircraft
as they flew in.
Other factors which helped in the air war against enemy shipping
during 1943 were the introduction of an improved torpedo sight,
the use of Torpex instead of TNT as the explosive charge, and the
use of a new gyro-controlled air tail for the torpedoes. This air
tail stabilised the flight of the torpedo in the air after its release
from the aircraft and then broke off on impact with the water.
A further innovation which was to have far-reaching effects was
the introduction of the rocket projectile as a primary weapon for
attacks on ships. This devastating missile consisted of a cordite-filled rocket motor some three inches in diameter to which could
be fitted either a 25-pound armour-piercing shot or a 60-pound high-explosive shell. Subsequent experience showed that the 25-pound
head was the most effective. It attained such a velocity that it would
pass right through a ship unless impeded by some heavy obstruction
such as the engines. Four such projectiles could be hung on guide
rails about seven feet long that were now fitted beneath each wing
of the Beaufighter and later the Mosquito. The rockets could be
fired either in pairs or as a salvo of eight.
The heavier scale of attack now launched against shipping along
the Dutch coast made it extremely difficult for the Germans to
continue using the port of Rotterdam. However, since its harbour
facilities and excellent communications by river and canal with the
Ruhr made Rotterdam by far the best port for the Germans in the
North Sea, they endeavoured to keep it open as long as possible.
Convoys continued to enter and leave the port at a greatly reduced
rate well into the early part of 1944, and the Germans displayed
considerable cunning in the tactics they employed to keep the ships
out of reach of air attack. After a period during which all kinds
of extemporary alterations of sailing times were tried, they finally
settled down to a scheme which made it extremely difficult to lay
on a daylight attack against their convoys at sea. Northbound
convoys would leave The Hook at last light to reach the well-defended Den Helder anchorage before dawn, and then shelter
there during the day before continuing their journey at nightfall.
Likewise, southbound convoys were so timed as to reach Den Helder
at dawn, waiting during the day and completing the last lap of
their voyage to Rotterdam during darkness. But the advent of the
Mustang long-range fighter enabled the strike aircraft to range
farther north and attack convoys in daylight along the Frisian
Islands and into the Heligoland Bight. All the same the time factor
in planning attacks now became vital, and fleeting opportunities,
often in the first hours of dawn, had to be grasped before the ships
found refuge.
By the beginning of 1944, when three Strike Wings had been
formed in Coastal Command, operations against enemy shipping
had developed into a more or less definite pattern. Reports from
reconnaissance aircraft would provide the information upon which
the strike leader would plan his attack. He would study the
anticipated track of the enemy convoy and work out the navigation
so as to intercept that track just outside visibility distance. Then,
having noted the disposition of the ships in the enemy convoy,
he would brief his men with the plan of attack, indicating to
the anti-flak crews the particular escort vessels whose fire needed to
be smothered, and generally arranging co-ordination of the whole
assault so as to achieve the maximum confusion among the defences
while the torpedo aircraft flew in.
The Beaufighters then took off in quick succession, joined formation in the air and set course for the turning point, all flying at
low level. Such departures were never without their spectators, and
as the aircraft roared away heads would appear at windows, ground
crews would stand watching the performance of their machines,
while aircrew not on duty would gather in small groups on the
airfield. Again, when the Beaufighters returned, anxious eyes would
count them in, and should one or two be missing a sense of personal
loss would be felt by the whole station.
The force, on making landfall on the enemy coast, would turn
and fly along the track of the enemy convoy. On sighting the ships
the strike leader would signal to the anti-flak Beaufighters, which
then climbed ahead of the torpedo-bombers and launched their
smothering attacks. In the ensuing confusion among the German
anti-aircraft gunners, the torpedo aircraft would select their targets
close to dropping range and place their torpedoes as accurately as
possible. This was no easy task for their targets would be moving at
anything between eight and twelve knots, and during the time the
torpedo took to travel through the water the ships could move ahead
or make sudden evasive turns. Then came a critical moment when
each Beaufighter banked to break away in order to avoid flying
over the defences. It was at this moment of banking that the full
span of the aircraft's wings and under-belly were exposed to the
German gunners, and pilots had to use all their skill in weaving
their way out of range. After the attack the aircraft usually passed
through a rendezvous point in order to gain mutual protection
against any enemy fighters which followed them on the homeward
flight.
* * * * *
The early months of 1944 saw an intensification of patrol and
attack along both the Dutch and Norwegian coasts. A typical strike
was carried out by the North Coates Wing off the Frisian Islands
on 26 April against a convoy of six merchant vessels, accompanied
by six escorts, including one Sperrbrecber. The attacking force
comprised six ‘Torbeaus’ of No. 254 Squadron, nine cannon Beaufighters of No. 143 Squadron, and nine Beaufighters from No. 236
Squadron, armed with 25-pound rocket projectiles and cannon;
single-engined fighters provided the escort. The formation failed to
locate its target and was just about to set course for base when
the leader of the escorting fighters sighted the ships north of
Ameland and directed the Beaufighters to it. As the aircraft flew in
they met heavy and light flak, but the attack was pressed home vigor-
ously. One 2000-ton ship was torpedoed, another larger merchantman was set on fire and seriously damaged, and an armed trawler
which was heavily hit later blew up. Other merchantmen and their
escorts were seen to be hit by cannon fire. One of the Beaufighters
was shot down and six others damaged, one of them crash-landing
at base.
During the previous week the North Coates Wing had achieved
the unusual distinction of launching three attacks on three successive
days. Although on each occasion the targets were small, four ships,
including a Sperrbrecher, were reported sunk, with others damaged.
Among the New Zealanders flying from North Coates at this
time was Wing Commander ‘Sam’ McHardy,
Wing Commander E. H. McHardy, DSO, DFC and bar, Croix de Guerre (Fr.); RAF;
born Palmerston, 24 Jun 1920; joined RAFMay 1939; commanded No. 404 Sqdn
1942, and No. 143 Sqdn, 1943–44.
who was in charge
of No. 143 Squadron. He led the strike force on many occasions.
Describing one April attack, McHardy says:
We had been flying along the Dutch coast for forty miles or so in a sea
mist and very soon after emerging from it we sighted two enemy ships. They
hadn't much time to do anything about it. All the aircraft swept in to attack
and an avalanche of cannon fire struck the ships. There was some flak thrown
up at us and some of the Beaufighters were hit, causing a few casualties. The
Germans were in an unenviable position with our lead bursting all around
them. In a few brief minutes the attack was over and we were heading for
home, leaving one ship burning furiously – a big pile of deck cargo as well
as the vessel itself was well alight – and the second ship, after an explosion
had shaken the inside out of her, was lying obscured by a pall of smoke. All
our machines returned safely.
Similar attacks were now taking place along the Norwegian coast
in which Beaufighters from No. 489 Squadron were prominent. This
New Zealand squadron had returned to operations after re-equipping
with Beaufighters early in January 1944. On the 14th eight aircraft,
three of them carrying torpedoes and five flying as anti-flak cover,
took off from their new base at Leuchars to patrol in the Lister area.
Shortly after making landfall, two merchant ships, accompanied by
four escorts, were sighted. The Beaufighters immediately went in to
the attack. A large explosion was seen near the bow of a larger
merchantman, estimated at 4000 tons, and this was followed by a
black cloud of smoke which hung like a giant mushroom for a considerable time. The anti-flak aircraft scored many hits with cannon
fire on both the smaller merchant vessels and the escorts. All the
Beaufighters returned safely although one crew had a narrow escape.
Their machine was hit by flak during the attack and when it landed
the whole of the nose fell off.
A few days later Squadron Leader Kellow
Squadron Leader S. W. Kellow, DFC; born East Ham, London, 14 Jan 1913; joined
RAFMay 1940; killed in flying accident, 5 Jun 1944.
of St. Andrews,
Scotland, led eight Beaufighters from No. 489 Squadron on a Rover
patrol in the Egero area. A small merchant ship was the first target,
but as the attack began Kellow saw smoke on the horizon which he
thought might lead to better targets. Leaving the small ship burning,
the formation flew towards the smoke which proved to be an
auxiliary minelayer, escorted on either side by M class minesweepers.
Two torpedoes were launched at the minelayer. She began to alter
course but was unable to avoid being hit. There was a sudden
convulsion of water just aft of amidships, followed by a heavy
explosion. The ship later sank. Meanwhile her escorts had been
attacked by cannon fire. Two Messerschmitts approached at low
level from the land and flew over the ships during the attack but
did not give battle, and all the Beaufighters returned safely with only
minor flak damage to a few machines.
Several more successful attacks followed during the next two
months in which a prominent part was played by Flight Lieutenants
Moyniham and Davidson,
Flight Lieutenant T. H. Davidson, DFC; born Papakura, 26 Jul 1921; school teacher;
joined RNZAFMay 1941.
Flying Officers Gow
Flight Lieutenant J. G. Gow, DFC; born Westport, 20 Oct 1916; clerk; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
and Osment,
Flight Lieutenant A. R. Osment, DFC; born Christchurch, 30 Oct 1917; clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1939.
Pilot
Officer O'Connor
Flying Officer J. J. O'Connor, DFC; born Port Glasgow, Renfrewshire; 7 Jun 1916;
clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
and Flight Sergeant Tapper.
Flying Officer C. M. Tapper, DFC; born Invercargill, 2 Sep 1921; cabinetmaker;
joined RNZAFSep 1941.
Flight Lieutenant
Hammond
Wing Commander D. H. Hammond, DSO, DFC and bar; born Christchurch, 14 Mar
1916; bank clerk; joined RNZAFJun 1940; commanded No. 489 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945.
and Flying Officer Fraser,
Flying Officer W. A. Fraser; born Invercargill, 25 Nov 1908; draughtsman; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
newly arrived on the squadron
after successful tours in the Mediterranean, also served with distinction during this period.
An unusual and interesting episode occurred in mid-February
when New Zealand Beaufighters provided air cover for the British
submarine Stubborn which was being towed home after suffering
damage from enemy attack off the Norwegian coast. Seven patrols
were flown, during which the submarine was escorted for nineteen
hours. Two days later the Flag Officer Submarines signalled: ‘I am
most grateful for your valuable help in getting Stubborn safely
home.’
By March 1944 plans for the formation of an Anzac Wing in
Coastal Command were well advanced. A preliminary operation
was flown in the late afternoon of the 6th when four torpedo
Beaufighters from the New Zealand Squadron were covered by eight
cannon Beaufighters from No. 455 Australian Squadron in an attack
on shipping off Stavanger. A cargo ship of 2000 tons was torpedoed
and numerous cannon hits were seen on the escorts and other vessels
in the convoy. This action marked the beginning of a partnership
which was to last until the end of the war. A few weeks later the
Anzac Wing was established at Langham, in Norfolk, to supplement operations against German shipping along the North Sea
coastline, and it was from this base during the next few months
that No. 489 Squadron was to carry out some of the most successful
attacks of its career.
Royal Air Force Station, Langham, was at this time commanded
by Group Captain A. E. Clouston, and the high standard of efficiency
in operations and the happy spirit which prevailed on the station
were due in no small measure to Clouston's dynamic personality.
Fine leadership was also displayed by the two squadron commanders,
Wing Commander Davenport,
Wing Commander J. N. Davenport, DSO, DFC and bar, GM; born Rose Bay, New
South Wales, 9 Jun 1920; joined RAAF Jan 1941; commanded No. 455 (Aust) Sqdn,
1943–44; Staff duties, No. 18 Group, Coastal Command, 1944–45.
who was in charge of the Australian
squadron, and Wing Commander Dinsdale, who led No. 489
Squadron. Typical of the attacks now carried out by the Anzac
Wing from Langham was that launched against a heavily defended
convoy near Borkum in the late afternoon of 6 May. The target,
which had been reported by a reconnaissance aircraft, consisted of
twelve merchant ships accompanied by fifteen escort vessels. Twenty-four Beaufighters, twelve from each squadron, comprised the attacking force, torpedoes being carried by six aircraft from the New
Zealand unit.
‘The aircraft attacked forward ships of the convoy in the face
of intense flak from the surrounding escorts,’ runs the official report.
‘This, however, was silenced to a great extent by the anti-flak aircraft and the “Torbeaus” had little opposition during their run-in.
A 3000-ton merchant ship was torpedoed and seen to be on fire and
low in the water, while another ship of 2000–3000 tons, believed
to have been hit by a torpedo, was also left on fire. A third vessel
of 5000 tons was attacked but no hits were observed. However, this
ship was on fire when our aircraft left the area. The anti-flak
Beaufighters also scored cannon hits on several of the escorts and
merchant ships. One Beaufighter of No. 455 Squadron failed to
return.’
* * * * *
By May 1944, when preparations for the assault on Europe
entered their final phase, the strike squadrons of Coastal Command
had already taken a heavy toll of German and German-controlled
shipping. In the seventeen months from January 1943 they had,
according to post-war assessments, sunk eighty-four ships totalling
178,537 tons, and damaged a further thirty-three, some of them
seriously, necessitating long periods in the overcrowded repair yards.
These figures, however, by no means represent the full effect of the
operations carried out by the Beaufighter and Hampden crews. The
increasing dislocation and delay in the enemy's seaborne trade, the
loss of valuable cargoes, the diversion of effort in providing more
and more escort vessels and crews, the maintenance of a considerable
force of fighter aircraft and anti-aircraft guns in the areas of attack,
all combined to produce a serious drain on the enemy's resources.
At the beginning of 1943 the reorganisation of the German
mercantile marine under Karl Kaufmann had led the German High
Command to expect that Germany would be able to meet her commitments as regards essential imports and the transport of military
supplies to Norway. But by the end of that year not only had the
German supply programme fallen considerably in arrears but the
excess of sinkings over replacements under Kaufmann's accelerated
shipbuilding scheme made it unlikelv that the Germans would be
able to improve the situation.
In the anti-shipping squadrons of Coastal Command the Royal
Air Force now possessed a powerful striking force trained not only
to continue its inroad into the enemy's dwindling resources of
shipping, but also to frustrate the attacks by the numerous small
craft which the Germans were assembling in the Channel ports for
action against the invasion convoys.
CHAPTER 6
Daylight Raids by the Light Bombers
Retrospect is now necessary to record the part played by
the crews of the day bombers in the mounting offensive.
Bitter experience in the early months of the war had shown the
RAF that its heavy bombers were no match for the German fighters
in daylight battle. But while the main strength of Bomber Command
had thereupon been turned to night bombing, the daylight attack
was not wholly abandoned. Blenheim bombers of No. 2 Group
continued to operate by day and they played a prominent part in the
air operations over France in May 1940; later, during the period
of the invasion threat they attacked ships and harbour installations
with good effect. Then as the danger of invasion receded the
Blenheims had extended their attacks to include such objectives as
airfields, factories, and power-stations in northern France, Belgium,
and Holland as well as ports and shipping along the North Sea and
Channel coasts. A modest campaign against targets on the fringe
of enemy territory was thus gradually developed.
The actual damage that could be inflicted was inevitably light
for only small forces were employed, and at this time the enemy
still possessed an overwhelming air superiority. But the courage and
daring displayed by the crews who in those early days flew low
over enemy territory day after day in relatively slow and lightly
armed aircraft are beyond all praise. There were hard battles with
German fighters, stiff opposition from anti-aircraft batteries, and on
several occasions the small formations of Blenheims were practically
wiped out. Almost invariably they suffered heavy casualties. Yet a
fine offensive spirit persisted and many gallant episodes are recorded
which light up that dark and sombre period of the war. One outstanding
example was the low-level attack on the docks at Bremen
early in July 1941 when twelve Blenheims of No. 105 Squadron
flew under high-tension cables and through a balloon barrage to
reach their target. Two were shot down during the approach, two
more just after bombing, and most of the others returned damaged,
some festooned with telegraph wires.
On many raids the bombers were escorted by fighters, but their
more distant targets still took them beyond the range of the contemporary fighters. When fifty-four Blenheims attacked power-
stationspowerstations near Cologne in August 1941 they had to fly the last 150
miles to their target without escort. Eleven of them were shot down.
Many of the others were badly damaged by anti-aircraft fire and
fighter attack and there were further casualties among their crews.
Some observers doubted whether the results achieved justified such
sacrifice of men and machines. However, the replacement of the
Blenheims by faster and better-armed aircraft such as the Boston
enabled the daylight attack to continue, although the bombers were
now more frequently employed in the role of decoys to lure the
enemy into battle with the strong fighter formations which accompanied them.
Bostons made their first attack early in March 1942 against the
Matford works at Poissy, near Paris, and they played a prominent
part in the air operations over Dieppe five months later. By that
time Mosquito and Ventura day bombers had been added to the
Bostons of No. 2 Bomber Group, and on 6 December 1942 nearly
one hundred aircraft of these three types attacked the Phillips radio
factory at Eindhoven in Holland, which was, perforce, working to
German requirements. This raid, the largest and most spectacular
thus far carried out by No. 2 Group, caused extensive damage to
the Phillips works. Thirteen aircraft were lost. Such, briefly, was
the way in which the daylight operations of No. 2 Bomber Group
had developed during the early years of the war.
* * * * *
By 1943 the re-equipment of its day-bomber squadrons with
faster machines enabled the RAF to increase both the range and
the weight of its daylight attacks. Mosquitos bombed targets as far
afield as Norway and the Ruhr and even penetrated to Berlin, while
the Bostons, Mitchells and Venturas, under strong fighter escort,
ranged over northern France, Belgium, and Holland attacking airfields ports, factories and power-stations. These latter formation
attacks upon short-range targets took place in considerable numbers
during the early months and by the end of May eighty-four targets
had been attacked.
New Zealand pilots, navigators, wireless operators and air
gunners, some of whom had been with day bombers since the early
days of the war, were among the crews of the RAF squadrons
which flew these various missions. A notable contribution was made
by No. 487 New Zealand Squadron which had been formed in
August 1942 and equipped with Ventura bombers - American aircraft
produced in California by the Vega Company which also built
Flying Fortresses. No. 487 had flown its first operational mission
in the following December, when it provided thirteen aircraft for
the raid on the Phillips works at Eindhoven. The Venturas had
played their part well and the squadron was unfortunate in losing
three crews, among them its commanding officer, Wing Commander
Seavill.
Wing Commander F. C. Seavill; born Parnell, 17 Jun 1910; joined RAF1930; Admin.
Staff duties, HQ Flying Training Command, 1938–40; Air Staff duties, Canada, 1940–42;
commanded No. 487 (NZ) Sqdn, 1942; killed on air operations, 6 Dec 1942.
At this time several New Zealand pilots, veterans of earlier
campaigns, held senior posts in No. 2 Group, notable personalities
being Group Captain Barnett,
Air Vice-Marshal D. H. F. Barnett, CBE, DFC; born Dunedin, 11 Feb 1906; Cambridge
University Air Squadron, 1926–29; permanent commission RAF1929; commanded
No. 40 Sqdn, 1940; RAF Station, Swanton Morley, 1942–43; Air Staff Strategic Bombing
duties, Bomber Command, 1944; SASO (Org.) Bomber Command, 1945; commanded
Air HQ Mauripur, India, 1947; D of Ops, Air Ministry, 1949–52; Liaison Officer US
HQ Japan, 1952–54.
who continued in command of RAF
Station, Swanton Morley, Group Captain R. L. Kippenberger in
charge of the base at Feltwell, and Wing Commander Magill,
Wing Commander G. R. Magill, OBE, DFC and bar; born Cambridge, 23 Jan 1915;
joined RAF1936; commanded No. 180 Sqdn, 1943; Operations Staff No. 2 Group
1943–45.
who
now led No. 180 Mitchell Squadron. Barnett had joined the
Cambridge University Air Squadron in 1926 and obtained a permanent commission in the RAF two years later; he served with dis-
tinctionindistinctioninIraq before the outbreak of war when he joined Bomber
Command. Kippenberger had entered the RAF in 1930 and had
been associated with bombers since the early days of his service.
He was in France in 1940 and subsequently commanded a Welling-squadron and served on the operations staff of a bomber group.
Magill had been with a fighter squadron in the Middle East before
the war and served there throughout the early campaigns. Squadron
Leader Reece,
Squadron Leader R. A. Reece, DFC, DFM; born Christchurch, 2 Nov 1914; joined
RAFAug 1938.
now station navigation officer at Foulsham, had won
early distinction with a light bomber squadron.
New Zealand aircrew prominent in operations with RAF
squadrons were Pilot Officers A. B. Smith,
Flying Officer A. B. Smith; born Hokitika, 17 Nov 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFApr 1941;
killed on air operations, 16 Aug 1943.
D. S. P. Smith
Flight Lieutenant D. S. P. Smith, DFC; born London, 11 Mar 1918; clerk; joined
RNZAFFeb 1941.
and
J. B. Wilson,
Flight Lieutenant J. B. Wilson; born Biggar, Scotland, 6 Jan 1921; civil servant; joined
RNZAFApr 1941; p.w. 26 Jul 1943.
who flew Bostons of No. 88 Squadron; Flying Officer
Rutherford
Flight Lieutenant R. S. Rutherford, DFC; born Edinburgh, 16 May 1909; farmer;
joined RNZAFNov 1940.
and Pilot Officer Willis,
Flight Lieutenant A. Willis; born Napier, 20 May 1916; storeman; joined RNZAFNov 1940.
navigators with No. 226
Mitchell Squadron, and Flying Officer Hannah,
Flying Officer B. J. E. Hannah; born Wellington, 19 Apr 1912; civil servant; joined
RNZAFSep 1940; killed on air operations, 9 Oct 1943.
who navigated a
Ventura of No. 464 Australian Squadron.
Mosquito pilots who undertook particularly hazardous missions at
this time were Flying Officers Polglase,
Flying Officer D. Polglase; born Takaka, Nelson, 25 Aug 1915; town clerk; joined
RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 11 Apr 1943.
O. W. Thompson
Flying Officer O. W. Thompson, DFM; born Auckland, 10 Nov 1916; clerk; joined
RNZAFJul 1940; killed on air operations, 1 May 1943.
and
Weston,
Flight Lieutenant L. T. Weston; born Christchurch, 13 Nov 1919; shop assistant; joined
RNZAFJul 1940.
flying with No. 105 Squadron, and Pilot Officer
McGeehan
Pilot Officer P. J. D. McGeehan, DFM; born Gisborne, 29 Apr 1921; clerk; joined
RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Mar 1943.
and Sergeant R. E. Leigh with No. 139 Squadron.
Four of these men were soon to lose their lives. Some of their
exploits will presently be related.
The New Zealand Ventura Squadron was now led by Wing
Commander G. J. Grindell, who had done good work both in oper-
ationsandoperationsand as a flying instructor during the early years of the war.
He soon proved a fine and efficient leader. His flight commanders
were Squadron Leaders Trent
Squadron Leader L. H. Trent, VC, DFC; born Nelson, 14 Apr 1915; joined RAF Aug
1938; p.w. 3 May 1943.
and Wheeler.
Wing Commander A. B. Wheeler, DFC; born Feilding, 11 Feb 1916; joined RCAF
Oct 1940; commanded No. 88 Sqdn, 1944; killed on air operations, 15 Feb 1944.
Trent had joined
the RAF in the late thirties and was one of the first British airmen
to go to France, where he flew Fairey Battles. In May 1940 he flew
as captain of a Blenheim in bombing attacks against the advancing
Germans, and before joining No. 487 Squadron he completed spells
of duty as a flying instructor and with the operations staff of No.
2 Group.
Wheeler had enlisted in Canada at the beginning of the war, and
during 1941 flew with a Blenheim squadron in daylight attacks on
shipping in the North Sea. Later he flew Bostons in many low-level
bombing raids and was prominent in the air operations over Dieppe.
Early in February 1944 he took command of No. 88 Squadron, only
to lose his life a fortnight later during an attack on a flying-bomb
launching site.
The first weeks of 1943 brought a period of unsettled weather,
and it was not until 22 January that No. 487 Squadron flew its first
mission of the year when three aircraft flown by Wing Commander
Grindell, Flying Officer Peryman,
Flying Officer S. B. Peryman; born Christchurch, 24 Nov 1921; mechanic; joined
RNZAFJun 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
and Sergeant Baker
Flight Sergeant C. J. J. Baker; born Auckland, 17 Aug 1920; truck driver; joined
RNZAFSep 1939.
attacked an
airfield near Cherbourg. The Venturas met accurate fire from anti-aircraft batteries and only Grindell's machine returned to base.
Baker made a safe landing at White Waltham after his aircraft had
been hit by flak and both engines set on fire, but Peryman was less
fortunate. His Ventura was so damaged that he was forced to ditch
in the Channel. Peryman then supported his wounded Canadian
navigator, but unfortunately he died before a rescue launch arrived,
leaving Peryman the only survivor from his crew. His wireless
operator and gunner had both been killed and went down with the
machine.
Four days later six crews set off to bomb the marshalling yards
at Bruges. They reached the target only to find it obscured by cloud
and were compelled to return without bombing. Indeed, because
of the bad weather prevalent at this time of year, crews frequently
experienced such disappointments. In February they continually stood
by for operations, but many sorties were cancelled at the last
moment when low cloud was reported in the target area. The 13th
February was typical. Crews were called on no fewer than five
occasions during the day and it was not until the early evening
that the mission was finally cancelled. They had a similar experience
three days later when they stood by for almost nine hours. Actually
only four missions were completed that month. They included
attacks on the marshalling yards at Abbeville and Caen, an armed
raider at Dunkirk and a dry dock at the same port. All crews
returned safely and reported good attacks. During the raid on
Abbeville enemy fighters attempted interceptions but were unable
to penetrate the protective screen of Spitfires; the Venturas also
escaped serious damage over Dunkirk, where opposition from flak
was particularly violent.
There was a diversion from normal activities during the first fort-
nightoffortnightof March when No. 487 Squadron, along with other units of
No. 2 Group, co-operated with the Army in large-scale manoeuvres
in southern England. Mock bombing raids were launched against
road and rail centres and towns, umpires deciding which aircraft
had been ‘shot down’ by flak or fighters and what effect the ‘bomb-
ing’ had had on the ‘enemy’. The squadron first took part in these
exercises on the 4th and in nine days flew over 200 sorties. On some
days crews flew three missions, and on returning from each flight
the Venturas had to be filled up with oil and petrol and rebombed;
they were grounded just long enough to allow the aircrews to snatch
a hurried meal and to be briefed. At the end of this period of
intense effort ground crews worked hard to get the machines ready
for a resumption of operations. Indeed, throughout these early
winter months of 1943 the ground crews worked with great
enthusiasm.
Several missions were cancelled before the squadron eventually
got away to attack an oil refinery at Maasluis on 22 March.
Unfortunately, there was bad visibility over the target and, as a
result of errors in bombing, there were heavy casualties among
Dutch civilians. Six days later, however, No. 487 took part in the
most successful attack made by No. 2 Group bombers during the
month when, together with No. 464 Australian Squadron, they
attacked shipping at Rotterdam. Six ships were reported damaged,
direct hits being seen on three of them. The following day all three
Ventura squadrons of the Group made two further attacks on the
same target. Crews reported considerable destruction among port
installations and further damage to shipping.
At the beginning of April the New Zealanders moved from Feltwell to Methwold, about three miles away. The new base was not
so well appointed as the peacetime station at Feltwell and the buildings were widely dispersed. The offices, mostly a collection of
wooden huts, were carefully concealed in a belt of trees near the
airfield. The ground staff and non-commissioned aircrew lived about
400 yards from the communal site in Nissen huts among trees, while
most of the officers lived in Feltwell Rectory some two miles away
from camp, the remainder being billeted in Dyke House, some 300
yards from the mess. But the squadron diary records:
It did not take long for us to settle down and were soon agreed that it
was not a bad place; after all we still visited Feltwell. Group Captain
Kippenberger was still ‘King of the Castle’ and that meant quite a lot.
The move was completed by the evening of 3 April and in the early
afternoon of the following day the squadron was able to send twelve
Venturas to attack Caen aerodrome, and in the evening the same
number of aircraft bombed the docks and shipping at Rotterdam.
The raid on Caen was uneventful but over Rotterdam the bombers
met heavy flak, and when the machines inadvertently flew over an
enemy convoy they were given a hot reception. One aircraft with
a Canadian crew failed to return and four others limped back, each
with one engine out of action.
During the remainder of April No. 487 Squadron attacked five
objectives - the marshalling yards at Caen, Haarlem, Abbeville and
Boulogne, and shipping at Dieppe. The Venturas were not seriously
opposed except at Boulogne, where intense fire from anti-aircraft
batteries forced crews to drop their bombs on an adjoining steel-
works. Several aircraft were heavily hit. One pilot, Sergeant
Whitwell,
Flying Officer G. F. Whitwell, DFM; born Auckland, 29 Jun 1915; petrol station attendant;joined RNZAFAug 1941.
had his left arm shattered whilst making his bombing
run, but he went on and completed the attack. Then, although
in great pain and weak through loss of blood, he flew his machine
back and landed it with an engine on fire at the strange and very
small airfield at Lympne. Whitwell received an immediate award
of the Distinguished Flying Medal - No. 487 Squadron's first
decoration. Commenting on the strength of the flak during this
mission, Wing Commander Grindell said: ‘It was the worst we
encountered in the Squadron's twenty raids. We could see it
bursting with red flashes all round us, but miraculously no aircraft went down. However all were damaged and in one machine
no fewer than 134 holes were counted.’
A memorable mission was flown on 3 May. That day there was
a violent air battle over Holland as the Venturas, with an escort
of fighters, attempted to break through to their target at Amsterdam.
The raid was a costly failure but it provides a most gallant episode
which deserves to be recorded in some detail.
The New Zealand bomber crews had assembled for briefing
shortly after noon on a day of blue skies and warm sunshine - one
of those late spring days when it was good to be alive in England -
perfect flying weather and every prospect of a successful mission.
As the briefing progressed the men heard that they were to take
part in a series of attacks designed to help the Dutch Resistance
Movement and encourage Dutch workers in strikes then being
organised in defiance of the Germans. No. 487's role was to bomb
the power-station at Amsterdam and, at the same time, to create
a diversion for another raid by Bostons a few minutes later on the
power-station at Ijmuiden. ‘Your target is well defended,’ crews
were told, ‘But it is important that the attack be pressed home
regardless of opposition.’
The Venturas, flying in two formations, were to be led by
Squadron Leader Trent, who commanded the squadron's ‘B’ Flight
with Flight Lieutenant Duffill,
Squadron Leader A. V. Duffill, DFC; born Minister, Yorkshire, 18 Aug 1919; joined
RAFJul 1939.
an English pilot, as his deputy. In
conversation before take-off, Trent was heard to say that while he
appreciated the risk involved he was determined to reach the target
whatever happened.
It was late afternoon when the New Zealand aircraft took off
from their base at Methwold in Norfolk, and a few minutes later
they met their escort of six Spitfire squadrons over Coltishall, an
airfield nearer the coast. The force then flew out over the Channel
and all went well until the Dutch coast came in sight. It was here
that trouble began, for in the meantime two further Spitfire
squadrons, detailed to act as target support and due over the target
at the same time as the bombers, had not only begun to climb
immediately after leaving their airfield instead of keeping to sea
level but had also arrived over the Dutch coast too early. Before
they were recalled these Spitfires broke through the German radar
screen, and enemy fighters were thus given time to assemble in
strength and position themselves with height advantage to await the
oncoming main British force. An added misfortune was the fact that
on this very day the German governor of Holland happened to be
paying a state visit to Haarlem, which was about mid-way between
the coast and the bombers' objective, and to protect the area during
his visit the Germans had mustered fighters from far afield.
After flying at sea level until near the Dutch coast the eleven
Venturas, with their attendant fighters, began climbing to their
bombing height. They had reached 12,000 feet and in a clear sky
could see their target far ahead, when suddenly the entire force was
set upon by four formations of Me109s and FW190s, totalling over
seventy aircraft. It was an aerial ambush. The Focke-Wulfs dived
on the escorting Spitfires before they could take up defensive
positions and the Messerschmitts swooped upon the bombers. Trent
immediately ordered his Venturas to close into one formation for
added protection and to go ‘all out’ straight on towards their
objective.
Confused and bitter fighting followed during which the escort
of Spitfire Vs - outnumbered, at a disadvantage of height, and
opposed by machines of superior performance - gradually became
split up. Even though the fighters acting as close escort tried hard
to maintain position, they were continually forced to turn aside to
ward off attacks and soon completely lost sight of the bombers,
which were then exposed to incessant assault. The Ventura flown
by Duffill was one of the first to be hit. Cannon fire destroyed the
hydraulic system, set both engines alight and wounded two members
of his crew. Duffill was forced to turn away, but before he did so
his gunner claimed a German fighter. Two other machines of his
formation which followed him were headed off and destroyed but
Duffill, although subjected to repeated attack until well out over the
North Sea, managed to keep his machine airborne. Then, after his
navigator had succeeded in releasing the bombs and with the fires
dying away, he managed to reach base and land the crippled Ventura
safely. It was the only one to return.
As the remaining Venturas flew on to the target they were picked
off one by one until only five remained to begin the bombing run.
These five machines, although hard pressed, maintained a steady
course towards the power-station at Amsterdam. A fighter which
flew across Trent's bows offered a perfect shot.‘Had always longed
for just such a chance,’ Trent afterwards declared, ‘and down he
went, for the Ventura's best armament was under the pilot's thumb.
I hardly had to move the aircraft. Dutch observers saw him crash.’
But the German fighters were now queuing up above and taking
it in turn to dive on the bombers and open fire at point-blank range.
Then they would swoop underneath to climb again on the other
side and await their turn for further attack. Bomber after bomber
went down - two of them exploded in mid-air – and finally only
Trent's machine was left to aim its bombs. They overshot but were
sufficiently near the target to cause blast damage.
Now alone, Trent turned to run the gauntlet of the enemy
defences back to the coast, but almost at once his machine was hit
and went down. Trent and his navigator were thrown clear and
survived to become prisoners of war, but the other two members
of the crew were unable to escape before the Ventura crashed.
Trent has described those last few minutes in these words:
As we approached Amsterdam the anti-aircraft guns joined the fighters in a
race to see who would get us first. I was surprised that the fighters continued
their attacks and as the power-house came into sight my observer had to
direct me. ‘Bombs Gone’ he called, and I looked up from the instruments
to see that we were alone. At the same moment we were hit and I found
that all controls had gone, but no fire and engines going perfectly. This
continued for ten seconds or so, which seemed an age, and then suddenly
the aircraft reared up, stalled upside down and went into a spin. Had
ordered ‘Abandon aircraft’ before the zoom and now tried to get out from
the roof hatch myself. However, the spin was so rapid that I was not getting
anywhere until at about 7000 feet the machine suddenly broke up and I
found myself outside. My navigator was also thrown out but unfortunately
the others were trapped in a portion of the wreckage.
From the other nine bombers which had already been shot down
there were relatively few survivors. Some men were killed at their
posts during the air battle, others when their machines exploded in
mid-air or crashed and blew up on the ground. A wounded air
gunner was the only survivor from one crew. He owed his life to
the action of his captain, Flying Officer McGowan,
Flying Officer S. McGowan; born Wellington, 6 Feb 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFSep 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
and Canadian
navigator, Flying Officer Thornber.
Flying Officer E. G. Thornber; born Methven, Canada, 14 Jan 1916; joined RCAF
Aug 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
After he was wounded they
dragged him from his damaged turret, put on his parachute, and
pushed him out of the burning Ventura. A few moments later the
bomber exploded, killing them both. The gunner, Flight Sergeant
Urlich,
Warrant Officer I. F. Urlich; born Hawera, 6 Aug 1922; shop assistant; joined RNZAFJan 1941; p.w. 3 May 1943.
gives this description of events from the time the French
coast was crossed until his turret was put out of action:
Suddenly through the inter-comm. I heard ‘fighters coming in to meet us
from below.’ A moment or two later I saw German fighters all round our
formations. Five singled us out and began to follow. Three came behind
in line astern, the first about 600 yards away. They did not attack immediately
but when McGowan began to take evasive action the first one came in. He
got in a burst on the port side between my turret and the pilot, but did
little damage. The second one was a better shot. He broke a lot of perspex
and wounded me in the right leg. The third one really fixed us. He came in
very close, raked us from end to end and hit me in the left foot. I managed
to get a burst into him and down he went with his engine on fire.
The inter-comm. went dead, and we had a few peaceful moments till we
were attacked from the front. I didn't see this one come in. He really
smashed up the turret. I got nicked in the left side and one of the guns was
hit by cannon shell and knocked out of its mounting.
The experiences of Flying Officer Foster
Flight Lieutenant O. E. Foster; born Christchurch, 14 Dec 1920; tractor driver; joined
RNZAFSep 1941; p.w. 3 May 1943.
and his crew, who flew
one of the last five aircraft to reach the vicinity of Amsterdam,
provide further illustration of the ordeal through which many men
passed that day.
As he approached the city, Foster saw the two Venturas
immediately in front of him explode and disintegrate in the air. A
few moments later his own machine was hit. The bomb doors were
blown off and the bombs fell away. Unable to complete his attack
Foster decided to turn for base. He had just begun to swing round
when a bursting anti-aircraft shell put one of the engines out of
action. Fighters were now forming up to attack and, as the bomber
went into a dive to evade them, events came quickly one upon
another. Ammunition containers began to explode, the nose of the
aircraft was blown away and the navigator badly injured. The rear
gunner, Sergeant Warner,
Flight Sergeant T. W. J. Warner; born Port Chalmers, 23 Mar 1918; salesman; joined
RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
– although mortally wounded – struggled
forward to report that his turret was out of action. He then dropped
dead alongside the pilot's seat.
The Ventura was now diving straight towards a harbour. It was
but a few feet above the water when Foster succeeded in straightening
out, only to find himself flying between the ships of a German
convoy. He got clear but found his machine most difficult to control
and it took all his strength to keep airborne as he flew out over
the Dutch coast. With petrol escaping from the tanks it now seemed
only a matter of seconds before the end came so Foster ordered
‘ditching stations’. No sooner had he done so than the port engine
failed and the Ventura went down on to the sea and sank almost
immediately. Foster, his navigator, and wireless operator fought
their way out of the submerged aircraft and managed to keep afloat
until picked up by a German patrol boat some two hours later. One
of the men has since told how:
The dinghies were all damaged by cannon fire when we hit the sea. It was
a terrible struggle to keep afloat. At first I could only get one glove and my
helmet off, but after a struggle got one flying boot off and then after a
considerable time managed to shake the second one away. All the time I
was screaming for help and can remember crying like a baby because I was
too young to die. Goodness knows who I expected to hear us. Paddled away
to keep afloat until I got terrible pains, but as soon as I stopped paddling
I sank and after a time I got so that my arms would not stop. After what
seemed an age, one of the boys shouted that a boat was coming straight
towards us. The next thing I recall is waking up in the engine room with
a German officer staring at me and then blank again until I came to in
hospital.
New Zealanders who lost their lives in this raid on Amsterdam
included four captains of aircraft, Flying Officers S. McGowan and
S. B. Peryman, Pilot Officers Coutts
Pilot Officer A. E. Coutts; born Sydney, 29 Feb 1916; shop assistant; joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
and Baynton,
Pilot Officer T. J. Baynton; born Hobart, Tasmania, 11 May 1915; motor mechanic;
joined RNZAFSep 1939; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
Flight Sergeant
Goodfellow,
Flight Sergeant W. D. L. Goodfellow; born Auckland, 29 Sep 1919; grocer's assistant;
joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
and Sergeant T. W. J. Warner, who flew as air gunners,
and Sergeant C. R. Smith,
Flight Sergeant C. R. Smith; born Timaru, 21 Aug 1913; farmhand; joined RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 3 May 1943.
wireless operator, were also killed in
action. Two other New Zealanders, Pilot Officer Taylor,
Flight Lieutenant T. L. B. Taylor; born Christchurch, 30 Jul 1914; photographic
assistant; joined RNZAFApr 1941; p.w. 3 May 1943.
and Flight
Sergeant Sharp,
Warrant Officer J. D. Sharp; born Te Puke, 21 Oct 1919; grocer; joined RNZAF13 Apr 1941; p.w. 3 May 1943.
both of whom captained Venturas, were able to
bale out safely and were taken prisoner. Flying Officer Penn,
Flight Lieutenant T. A. Penn; born Christchurch, 31 Aug 1913; produce agent; joined
RNZAFJul 1941; p.w. 3 May 1943.
navigator, survived with his pilot, Flying Officer Foster.
At the time it was considered that the Ventura crews, under
Trent's leadership, had shown great courage and determination in
forcing on towards their target against the sternest opposition. But
it was not until after the war, when the full story of the raid became
known, that this impression received full confirmation. The award
of the Victoria Cross was thereupon made to Squadron Leader Trent.
His citation concludes with these words:
On this, his twenty-fourth sortie, Squadron Leader Trent showed outstanding
leadership. Such was the trust placed in this gallant officer that the
other pilots followed him unwaveringly. His cool, unflinching courage
and devotion to duty in the face of over-whelming odds rank with the
finest examples of these virtues.
After his capture Trent had one further adventure. He was one of
the airmen who took part in the mass escape by tunnel from Stalag
Luft III in March 1944. During the preparations he was one of those
responsible for disposal of sand taken from the tunnel and, in
addition, acted as a security officer to prevent any leakage of
information which might warn the Germans what was afoot. On
the night of the escape, Trent had passed through the tunnel and
emerged from the hole outside the camp wire when a patrolling
sentry discovered the men waiting to crawl away into the shelter of
the nearby wood and alerted the camp guards.
See also Paul Brickhill, The Great Escape (Faber and Faber). Fifty were recaptured and shot
by the Gestapo. Among those shot were three New Zealanders–Fit Lt A. G. Christensen
and Fg Off P. P. J. Pohe, both RNZAF, and Sqn Ldr J. E. A. Williams, RAF.
Witnesses at the war crimes trials stated that 4200 prisoners had escaped in 1943, during
which there had been five or six nation-wide searches, and that there had already been
two or three similar searches in 1944 before this escape.
* * * * *
During the early months of 1943 the two Mosquito squadrons
with No. 2 Group achieved notable success in their precision attacks
on targets deeper in German or German-occupied territory. Many
of their bombs fell on the enemy railway system, its workshops,
engines and rolling stock; several spectacular raids were directed
against certain small targets which were of special importance to the
German war machine; there were ‘nuisance’ raids on Berlin and other
cities which struck a shrewd blow at Nazi prestige.
The Mosquito, with its high speed and formidable bomb load,
was an ideal aircraft for such missions. Everything about it spelt
aggression, from its slim, dart-like fuselage to its enormous
propellers and spinners. Although docile and easy to handle, many
a German pilot found it both a tough and elusive adversary.
Mosquitos, even when severely damaged, often reached their base
safely and there were outstanding instances of young pilots, some
on their first operation, returning home, as one of them put it, ‘in
a large hole held together by pieces of aeroplane’ and then carrying
out successful forced landings. Inevitably a few machines were lost,
but considering the hazardous nature of their tasks, casualties were
not heavy.
Most sorties were flown at low level when the Mosquitos, flying
sometimes in formation, sometimes singly, would appear like whirlwinds,
administer their ‘sting’ and be gone, often before the German
fighters or anti-aircraft guns could come into action. Even if the
gunners at the German flak posts were waiting ready, the target
was so swift that accurate sighting was difficult. The Focke-Wulf
190 was a respected foe, but the Mosquito had an efficient camouflage
of dull silvery grey and green which blended well with the
countryside and was very hard for prying eyes to pick out from
above. Navigators in so fast an aircraft had to be constantly alert
as railways, towns, villages, rivers and canals flashed into view, were
poised on the instant and then lost to sight. But there were consolations.
People in the occupied countries often used to wave their
recognition. They came to know the deep powerful tone of the twin
Merlin engines and to welcome the sight of a pack of ‘Mossies’
streaking across their fields and villages. Farmers looked up from
their ploughs and disregarded their stampeding horses to throw their
hats in the air. Squat Dutchmen flung their arms apart high and
wide to give as effective a ‘V’ sign as possible, often to be answered
by a flashing reply from the Mosquito as it shot overhead. And, in
the gathering dusk, British crews frequently saw the ‘V’signal
flashing from the windows of farms and villages as they steered
westwards for home.
There was a pleasing episode on 30 January 1943 when three
Mosquitos of No. 105 Squadron timed their arrival over Berlin to
coincide with the delivery of a speech by Goering to a typical Nazi
rally at the Sportspalast. The speech was to be broadcast and the
announcer had just begun his introductory remarks when he was
interrupted by a dull explosion and a babble of excited voices. After
some confusion came a statement that the Field Marshal's address
would be delayed for a few minutes, but it was not until an hour
afterwards that Goering finally began his speech. Later the same
day when Propaganda Minister Goebbels was to speak, more
Mosquitos, this time from No. 139 Squadron, dropped bombs on
the German capital, but evidence from the radio indicated that
Goebbels had gone to earth and was speaking from a less exposed
position than the platform at the open-air rally.
The Mosquitos had made the long trip to Berlin in broad daylight,
and although the second group met some opposition from
fighters and anti-aircraft batteries, all but one returned safely.
Flight Sergeant McGeehan, who flew an aircraft from No. 139
Squadron, gave this account of his flight:
Flight carried out at low level over North Sea to point north of Heligoland,
then inland to Lubeck. Shortly afterwards a climb was started to 20,000
feet. Course was altered from Schwerm and Berlin appeared in brilliant
sunshine at expected time of arrival, the cloud having broken abruptly.
Bombs were dropped at 1600 hours and one burst was observed about half
a mile to the south of the centre of the city. Heavy flak was encountered and
evasive action taken. Two fighters were seen but these were evaded. The rest
of the trip to the Dutch coast was done at low level. Flak was again
encountered crossing the Frisians. Base was reached without further event.
In their low-level raids the Mosquitos now used two separate
methods of attack – the really low-level and the shallow-dive – both
of which were frequently employed in the same mission. In the
really low-level approach, small formations flew straight towards
their target just above the treetops and hurled their bombs down as
they flew across it. Shallow-dive formations, on the other hand,
would climb rapidly to about 2000 feet on reaching a predetermined
landmark some ten to fifteen miles from their objective. Then over
the target they peeled off and dived to release their bombs at about
1500 feet.
When these methods were combined both formations would be
led by one leader whose navigator was entirely responsible for
guiding the whole force to the objective - a difficult feat when flying
low over enemy territory at very high speed. When the two sections
parted company the low-level group would drop bombs fused for
eleven seconds' delay. The operation was so planned that the
shallow-dive aircraft began their dive as the last aircraft of the first
formation got away and their bombs were fused to explode instantaneously.
Accurate timing was thus of the utmost importance. If the
interval between bombing was too great the second formation would
meet a hail of fire from the enemy anti-aircraft batteries which
would have been alerted by the low-level attack; on the other hand,
if the formations bombed too close together the low-level aircraft
would be enveloped by the bombs from the diving formations above
them. However, in a well-executed raid the enemy gunners were
confused by the two attacks and the risk to the Mosquitos was
consequently reduced. On leaving the target both formations would
spread out to prevent collisions and then swiftly make their way out
across the coast and back to base.
Of several operations in which the low-level and shallow-dive
techniques were used with outstanding success, the most notable was
that carried out by ten Mosquitos from No. 139 Squadron on 3
March. Their target was the mine at Knaben, in a remote part of the
Norwegian mountains, which produced molybdenum - a material
vital to the enemy's production of special grades of steel. The leader's
report of this mission is as follows:
The formation proceeded to Flamborough Head in good style and set
course for the Norwegian Coast. We were ninety minutes over the sea at
low level, during which time the 10/10 cloud gave way to a clear sky and
brilliant sunshine. Track was maintained accurately by constant drift reading,
and a landfall was made within a mile of the appointed place. Visibility was
exceptional and the snow-capped mountains over which we had to climb
presented a striking sight. Sirdale Lake, our next turning point, was reached
without trouble, and the formation turned north, the Shallow Divers commencing
their climb and the remaining four keeping as low as possible on
the lake, and overtaking us. They were seen to pass underneath us just
before reaching the tip of the lake and then to turn east, climbing steeply
over the surrounding hills. We, in the Shallow Dive formation, then turned
east on to the course. On approaching the target, we saw brown and white
smoke rising, and our attack commenced immediately. After bombing, we
did a sharp left-hand turn and saw the following aircraft's bombs bursting
on the target and also other bombs on the gun position. Course was then set
for the coast, where two F.W. 190s were seen in combat with a Mossie about
1500 yards to starboard. The chase was seen to carry on fifty miles out to
sea, after which the 190s turned back and England was reached without any
further incident.
When reconnaissance photographs became available extensive
damage could be seen, and it was subsequently learned that the
crushing, grinding, and flotation plants had been put out of action.
However, in view of the importance of the target, the Germans began
repairs immediately and by June had succeeded in resuming production at about half the previous level.
Six days earlier ten Mosquitos from No. 105 Squadron and the
same number from No. 139 Squadron had been very successful in
an attack on the naval stores depot at Rennes. Five aircraft attacked
from low level and a further eleven machines bombed in a shallow
dive. Pilot Officer Weston found bombs bursting in the target area
so did not attack but released his bombs on a double track railway
about two miles east of Vire from only fifty feet. Three aircraft, two
of which collided on the way to the target, were missing from this
operation, but the depot was heavily hit, with seventeen sheds
destroyed and nineteen damaged.
Another particularly successful March raid was that made against
the Renault works at Arnage, Le Mans, when Flying Officers
Polglase and Thompson and Pilot Officer Weston flew three of the
six Mosquitos despatched by No. 105 Squadron to make the low-level
attack. They were supported by eight machines from No. 139
Squadron, as the shallow-dive flight. The crews met intense flak over
the target and No. 139 Squadron lost one Mosquito, while another
was badly hit and crash-landed on return. All three New Zealand
pilots returned safely and reported good attacks. Direct hits on the
works caused severe damage to almost all the main buildings, but
such was the accuracy of the bombing that only one house was hit
outside the works area.
Similar results were obtained when Mosquitos penetrated deep
into Germany to attack the engine sheds at Paderborn on 16 March.
Again No. 105 Squadron supplied six Mosquitos for the low-level
attack and No. 139 Squadron detailed ten aircraft for shallow-dive
bombing. The leading navigator's report of this notable raid is
as follows:
Paderborn is quite a few miles east of the Ruhr, and it looked an al armingly long way into Germany when we studied the route on the large-scale
map in the briefing room. There were to be sixteen aircraft, which by our
standards is a big formation. The target consisted of engine sheds, and they
were to be attacked in two waves, first by six aircraft at low level, and then
by ten from about thirteen hundred feet in a Shallow Dive. Apart from the
bombing run, we were to fly at low level all the way. We, in our aircraft,
were to lead the formation to a point about twenty-five miles short of the
target, and then to climb to three thousand feet with nine others behind us,
while the last six raced in ahead to bomb first from low level. The rest of
us were to dive down to thirteen hundred feet before bombing. It was hoped
that our bombs would begin falling just as the last of the low-level aircraft
had got clear of the target. It would be too bad for him if we bombed a bit
early. You can't see Mosquitos when you are directly above them; their
camouflage is too good. So, good timing would be needed if we were going
to make a concentrated attack, and yet give that last man a chance.
All went well till we were over the Zuyder Zee, when we were intercepted
by a formation of low-flying ducks. They attacked strongly, but inflicted
only one casualty. Their leader crashed through the perspex of one aircraft,
and landed, a heap of blood and feathers, on the observer's stomach. Two
others hit the starboard engine nacelle. It was very draughty in that aeroplane
(and messy, too), so it turned back for home. The rest of us managed to
take the effective evasive action. We are better at avoiding birds than we
used to be.
We carried on very smoothly over the flat lands of Holland and North-West
Germany. Occasionally we would lift a wing to avoid a church steeple.
Visibility was just right – enough to map read by, and no more. Between
Munster and Osnabruck the country became hilly, and the formation
inevitably got more ragged. But everything was still very quiet.
We crossed a big autobahn and began to climb, while the last six
Mosquitos stayed down. It's an uncomfortable feeling to be up at three
thousand feet after a spell of low flying. You feel naked and motionless and
a sitting target for the gunners. But it gets better when you dive on to the
target, and the earth comes close again and you recapture the feeling of speed.
There was a lot of industrial haze drifting over from the Ruhr, and the
target was difficult to see. Perhaps it was the haze that made the flak gunners
so slow off the mark. They allowed half of us to bomb before they opened
up. When they did open up, they were pretty good, and the boys at the back
had a nasty few minutes. One machine was hit, and did not return, while
another came back on one engine, and did very well to make a crash-landing
at an aerodrome close to base. We, personally, were lucky, and were out of
the target area in time. When we looked back the target was going up into
the air, and above it the Mosquitos were bucking like broncos to avoid the
streams of orange balls thrown up at them from all angles by the Bofors
guns.
On the way home over Germany the mist got thicker and thicker, and we
all felt safer and safer. We saw two Junkers 52's and wished we had some
guns. Nothing else happened, and we sneaked quietly out over the Dutch
island which we thought would give us the least trouble. I doubt if they could
have seen us, anyway ….
McGeehan, who was seen to attack the target, failed to return
from this raid. Two other New Zealanders lost their lives in low-level
operations during the next few weeks. Flying Officer Polglase
failed to return from the attack on the diesel-engine works at
Hengelo early in April. His formation was intercepted by Focke-Wulf
190s just before reaching the target and he was last seen under
attack by several enemy fighters. On 1 May Thompson's Mosquito
crashed soon after taking off with five other aircraft of No. 105
Squadron to attack the Phillips valve works at Eindhoven.
* * * * *
In June 1943 the first steps were taken to reorganise the RAF in
preparation for the invasion of Europe. The Second Tactical Air
Force was formed under Air Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory
Air Chief Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory, KCB, DSO, Order of Polonia Restituta
(Pol.), Order of Kutuzov (USSR), Legion of Merit (US); born Mobberley, Cheshire,
11 Jul 1892; joined Lancashire Fusiliers 1914; seconded RFC 1916 and RAF1918;
permanent commission RAF1919; AOC No. 12 Fighter Group, 1937–40; AOC No.11
Fighter Group, 1940–42; AOC-in-C Fighter Command, 1942–43; AC-in-C AEAF,
1943–44; missing 14 Nov 1944 and death presumed.
and the Boston, Mitchell, and Ventura squadrons of No. 2 Group
left Bomber Command to join the new force. They were to operate
under Fighter Command control until the formation of the Allied
Expeditionary Air Force five months later. At the same time the
Mosquito squadrons which had been so successful in low-level attacks
were transferred to Bomber Command's pathfinder force, where they
continued to operate with distinction. But No. 2 Group was not to
be long without the versatile Mosquito as Ventura squadrons began
conversion to these machines a month later.
Aircrews regarded these various changes with considerable satisfaction for they brought nearer the day when the bombers would be
flying in close support of the Allied armies invading Europe. How-
ever, that day was still some way off, and during the second half
of 1943 the bombers of No. 2 Group continued to attack such
targets as enemy airfields, ports, power-stations and marshalling
yards within the range of the Spitfires which flew as their escort.
There were also raids on airframe and aero-engine factories and
repair depots in occupied territory.
No. 2 Group was now led by Air Vice-Marshal Basil Embry
Air Marshal Sir Basil E. Embry, KCB, KBE, DSO and three bars, DFC, AFC, Order of
Danneborg (Den.), Order of Orange Nassau (Hol.), Legion of Honour (Fr.); born
Barnwood, Gloucestershire, 28 Feb 1902; joined RAF1921; commanded No. 107
Sqdn, 1939–40; p.w. 27 May – 2 Aug 1940; commanded RAF Station, Southend, 1940;
Wittering, 1940–41; SASO, AHQ Western Desert, 1941–42; commanded RAF Station,
Wittering, 1942; SASO No. 10 Group, 1943; AOC No. 2 Group, 1943–45; Asst Chief
of Air Staff (Training) 1945–49; AOC-in-C Fighter Command, 1949–53.
who
had enjoyed a remarkable career in the Royal Air Force. Under his
dynamic leadership a more offensive outlook now developed among
the squadrons of No. 2 Group. Previously, medium-level bombers
such as the Ventura had only flown when there was little or no cloud
below their usual bombing height, with the result that there had
often been long intervals between operations while awaiting such
conditions. But now the bombers began to operate more frequently
in larger formations and Embry took pains to impress upon crews
that they flew over enemy territory for one purpose only – ‘to put a
bomb on the target.’ An intensive period of night-flying training was
also begun so that the Group's activities could be extended even
though the majority of operations were still to be flown in daylight.
In addition, Embry changed the height from which the medium-level aircraft bombed. In the first half of 1943 they had attacked at
around 10,000 feet. At this height heavy flak was very accurate –
in thirty-eight sorties by Mitchells during May twenty-nine machines
were damaged, while eleven Bostons were hit during forty-eight
sorties the same month. Concern at the prospect of even heavier
casualties led Embry to decide that the maximum bombing height
should be raised from 12,000 feet to 14,000 feet, with the actual
height of the attack governed by the needs of individual targets and
what was known about the type and number of batteries defending
them.
At this time some seventy New Zealanders were serving with the
RAF Ventura, Boston, and Mitchell squadrons, of whom about forty
were with No. 487 Squadron. Among senior officers, Group Captain
Barnett, who had commanded RAF Station, Swanton Morley, for
the past year, was now posted to Second Tactical Air Force in charge
of administration plans, organisation and policy, where he remained
until he joined the Air Staff at Bomber Command in May 1944.
He was succeeded at Swanton Morley by Group Captain
Kippenberger, who assumed command at the beginning of July.
Wing Commander Magill continued in command of No. 180
Mitchell Squadron until the middle of September when he was
posted to the operational staff at Embry's headquarters. Among the
pilots to win distinction during the next months were Flying Officer
Struthers
Flying Officer G. A. M. Struthers, DFC; born Hastings, 30 Dec 1916; farmer; joined
RNZAFMar 1942; killed on air operations, 30 Jun 1944.
of No. 180 Squadron and Pilot Officer Gibson,
Flying Officer D. J. N. Gibson, DFC; born Streatham, London, 23 Apr 1921; warehouse-
man; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
who led
a section of No. 88 Boston Squadron. Squadron Leader R. A. Reece,
now navigation officer with a Mitchell Wing, took part in many
operations and was commended for his work in improving the
standard of navigation and bomb aiming. Flying Officer Gabites
Flight Lieutenant E. W. F. Gabites, DFC; born Auckland, 23 Dec 1918; clerk; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
flew as leading navigator with No. 464 Australian Squadron; Flying
Officer Field
Flight Lieutenant G. A. H. Field, DFC and bar; born Wellington, 26 Nov 1908; company
director; joined RNZAFNov 1941.
undertook similar duties with No. 226 Mitchell
Squadron. Flying Officer Forsyth,
Flying Officer C. L. M. Forsyth, DFC, DFM; born Tauranga, 11 Feb 1914; timber
worker; joined RNZAFFeb 1940; killed on air operations, 8 May 1944.
an air gunner who served with
No. 180 Squadron and No. 98 Squadron, had flown consistently
since the end of 1940 when he was one of the pioneers of night
intruder operations over enemy airfields. Forsyth lost his life during
an attack on a flying-bomb target early in May 1944. It was his
ninety-seventh mission.
The New Zealand Day-Bomber Squadron – recovering from the
heavy losses sustained in the May attack on Amsterdam – was now
commanded by Wing Commander Wilson,
Wing Commander A. G. Wilson, DFC; RAF; born Southgate, London, 19 Dec 1916;
joined RAF1938; commanded No. 487 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943–44, and No. 21 Sqdn, 1945.
an experienced English
pilot, Group Captain Grindell having left in the middle of May to
command a station in No. 5 Bomber Group. Flight commanders
were Squadron Leaders Wallington
Wing Commander W. F. Wallington, DFC; RAF; born Rochester, Kent, 4 Jan 1908;
joined RAF1923.
of Rochester, Kent, and A. V.
Duffill of Beverley, Yorkshire, who had survived the Amsterdam
raid. The senior New Zealander now with the squadron was Flight
Lieutenant Park,
Flight Lieutenant G. A. Park; born Dunedin, 18 May 1922; clerk; joined RNZAF Apr
1941.
who had served since its formation.
The squadron's first mission after leaving Bomber Command was
flown on 12 June when twelve Venturas attacked Caen aerodrome.
Flying Officer Brewer,
Flying Officer G. W. Brewer, DFC; born Hihitahi, Wanganui, 8 May 1915; clerk;
joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 12 Jun 1943.
who had earlier won commendation while
flying with No. 107 Boston Squadron, failed to return. His aircraft
was hit by flak, the port engine caught fire, and the Ventura was
last seen going down in what appeared to be a controlled dive; but
hopes that Brewer had managed to land safely were not fulfilled
and both he and two other New Zealanders in his crew were killed.
On the same raid another Ventura was badly shot up and landed at
Tangmere with its navigator fatally wounded. Indeed, few aircraft
returned unscathed and ground crews were kept busy during the
next few days repairing the damage. No. 487's last sorties with
Venturas were made on 24 June when twelve crews attacked the
airfield at Mauperthuis, south-east of Paris. The formation was led
by Park, and although there was broken cloud the aircraft made an
excellent run and bombing was reported as good.
No. 487's role was now to be changed to night intruding and
during the remainder of July the squadron was occupied with
intensive night-flying training and a move from Methwold to
Sculthorpe, a satellite of RAF Station, West Raynham. The first
Mosquitos began to arrive in August, when crews were gradually
converted and the new aircraft modified for night flying. This work,
together with the servicing of the remaining Venturas, kept the
ground crew at full stretch. However, squadron spirit was high and,
despite the increased pressure of work, cancelling of leave and a
shortage of staff, all appear to have worked with commendable
enthusiasm. The last Ventura left on 21 September and the squadron
finally became a Mosquito unit. By the end of the month it was
considered operational and the difficult transition period was over;
night training still went on but, with the return to operations, aircrews and ground staff felt they were really in action again.
The New Zealanders flew their first mission with Mosquitos on
3 October when twelve aircraft, led by the station commander, Group
Captain Pickard,
Group Captain P. C. Pickard, DSO and two bars; DFC; Military Cross (Czech.); born
Handsworth, Yorkshire, 16 May 1915; joined RAF1937; commanded No. 51 Sqdn,
1941–42; RAF Stations, Lissett and Sculthorpe, 1943; killed on air operations, 18 Feb
1944
took off to attack the power-station at Pont
Chateau, about 30 miles north-west of Nantes. They used the
method of attack developed by the original Mosquito squadrons of
the Group. Six aircraft went in first at low level and dropped their
delay bombs; then the second formation followed closely in a
shallow dive from 2000 feet, dropping bombs fused to explode
instantaneously. Several direct hits were seen on the power-station,
and although three aircraft received minor damage from light flak,
all returned safely.
The next mission, six days later, when twelve New Zealand
Mosquitos flew with twelve more from No. 464 Australian Squadron
to bomb an aero-engine factory near Metz, was most disappointing.
It involved a flight of almost 800 miles over a long and complicated
route, rendered more difficult on this occasion by poor visibility.
The Australians took off first and the New Zealanders followed
closely, each squadron flying in two formations of six aircraft. As
the Mosquitos flew out over the North Sea they had to alter course
to avoid a British convoy which appeared unexpectedly on their
track, and then near the Dutch coast the two squadrons completely
lost contact in thick sea mist. Shortly afterwards Wing Commander
Wilson, who was leading the first six aircraft of No. 487 Squadron,
became separated from his formation. The rest of his crews flew
on towards their next turning point but found they were hopelessly
lost and so turned back to base. Wilson got through to the target
but, just after bombing, his Mosquito was hit by flak and the navigator fatally wounded, with the result that he had a difficult return
flight and was forced to land at an advanced base in Kent. The
second New Zealand formation fared even worse. Over Holland an
explosion suddenly occurred beneath the leading aircraft. It climbed
with both propellers stopped, levelled out for a few seconds, and
then crashed in flames. Just south of Antwerp a second Mosquito
was seen to circle with an engine out of action and then drop its
bombs. They immediately exploded and blew the aircraft to pieces.
It is surmised that both pilots confused the ‘Press to Speak’ radio-telephone button with the ‘bomb release’ button alongside it. In any
event these misfortunes so disorganised the formation that the
remaining aircraft returned to base individually.
In the meantime the Australians had also experienced difficulties.
From the outset, owing to low cloud and mist over most of the
route, their leading navigator had trouble in finding pinpoints by
which to check his position. However, the Mosquitos eventually
reached the vicinity of Metz only to find it covered with thick cloud
in which the formation became split up, and only one crew was
able to drop its bombs. Two aircraft failed to return, one of which
is thought to have flown into the high ground that surrounded the
target. The other disappeared during the flight over Belgium.
Several of the Australian Mosquitos were also damaged by flak.
The failure of this operation may be partly attributed to the weather,
which led to a succession of errors in navigation, but it would also
seem that the mission was rather too ambitious for crews relatively
inexperienced in low-level attack and flying a new type of aircraft.
There were no further operations during October, but a series
of flying accidents occurred on the 23rd when a Mosquito from each
of the three squadrons based at Sculthorpe crashed on return from
training flights. However, these mishaps served but to increase the
confidence of the aircrews in the sturdiness of their wooden aircraft
for, although the machines were seriously damaged, there were no
outbreaks of fire, the cockpits remained intact and crews escaped
injury.
Weather in November gave little opportunity for large-scale
operations and activity was confined to several low-level attacks in
the last week involving formations of four or two aircraft only.
However, this month saw another important change in organisation.
On 15 November the Allied Expeditionary Air Force was formed
under the command of Air Chief Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory
and the No. 2 Group squadrons incorporated in the new formation
had to be made completely mobile so that they could fly to any airfield and be serviced by the resident ground crew. Therefore, with
the exception of a few key personnel, No. 487 Squadron lost its
entire ground staff. This change, although essential for the future
activities of the squadron, was far from popular.
The early part of December was notable for a gallant attack by
a single Mosquito from the New Zealand squadron against an
armed motor vessel lying off Groix, near Lorient. Actually three
Mosquitos were sent from the squadron to an advanced base at
Predannack, in Cornwall, but in the event only one machine was
able to take off. It was flown by Squadron Leader Cussens,
Squadron Leader A. S. Cussens; born Sheffield, Yorkshire, 11 Nov 1919; joined RAFApr 1940; killed on air operations, 1 Dec 1943.
an
English pilot who had taken charge of a flight in October, with
Flying Officer Mackay
Flying Officer H. M. Mackay; born Morrinsville, 19 Dec 1920; accountant; joined
RNZAFSep 1941; killed on air operations, 1 Dec 1943.
as his navigator. Twelve Typhoons escorted
the Mosquito to its target and the fighter pilots reported that
Cussens pressed home the attack with great determination. Un-
fortunately, just after the bombs had been released, the Mosquito was
seen to crash into the sea and sink immediately. Subsequent reports
indicated that the ship had been damaged.
For No. 487 Squadron this second year of its career had proved
a rather trying period. There had been the severe losses on the
Amsterdam raid, the subsequent transfer to Second Tactical Air
Force, many weeks of re-equipment, bringing with it the unpleasant
necessity for posting the wireless operators and air gunners, and
finally the loss of most of the ground staff. Operations with
Mosquitos had been rather spasmodic and often handicapped by
bad weather, while casualties, although not severe, had been
frequent. Nevertheless, squadron morale remained remarkably high
and the following months were to see a happier and more successful
period of operations.
* * * * *
During the closing months of 1943 New Zealanders with the
Boston and Mitchell squadrons had continued to fly on ‘Circus’ and
‘Ramrod’ operations; Boston crews also took part in low-level
attacks. Their targets included airframe factories, airfields, power-
stations, railway marshalling yards, shipping and docks in northern
France and Holland. On most missions the main opposition came
from anti-aircraft batteries, German airmen seldom accepting the
invitation to engage the strong British fighter force. Typically, one
day in October ten New Zealand airmen flew with No. 226 Mitchell
Squadron to bomb the Grand Quevilly power-station at Rouen. The
bombers were escorted by about 120 Spitfires but in spite of this
challenge the enemy made no attempt at interception. This was by
no means an isolated example of growing Allied air superiority over
northern France.
From time to time the Bostons and Mitchells were sent to bomb
the strongly defended village of Audinghem, near Cap Gris Nez,
an area headquarters of the Todt Organisation.
The Todt Organisation, formed before the war, had been responsible for building the
famous autobahnen in Germany and also the Siegfried Line. It now controlled a huge
labour force to meet the constructional requirements of the German armed forces. In
France it was concerned with the building of the ‘Atlantic Wall’ defences and V-weapon
sites.
The heaviest
attacks against this target came on 25 November when 138 sorties
were flown. Subsequent photographic reconnaissance showed that
the bombing had virtually destroyed the village and the streets were
blocked by debris. In one of the attacks twelve Bostons from No.
88 Squadron achieved particularly good results, almost all their
bombs being seen to fall in the target area. Unfortunately, while
over Audinghem they met intense flak and eight aircraft were hit.
One of them crashed in a field on return and was burnt out without
serious injury to the crew. Another Boston flown by Pilot Officer
Gibson force-landed at Hawkinge.
Gibson, who flew in the leading formation, was just turning
away from the target after dropping his bombs when his aircraft
was hit. He was badly wounded in the face and his left collar-bone
was fractured. The Boston went into a dive and Gibson gave his
crew the order ‘Prepare to bale out’, but after the bomber had
fallen some 4000 feet he managed to regain control. Gibson was
suffering considerable pain from his wounds and soon became weak
from loss of blood, but he was able to keep his machine airborne
until the English coast was reached and then, although handicapped
by his useless arm, he lowered the undercarriage and flaps and made
a good landing.
* * * * *
A new development in daylight bombing operations came towards
the end of 1943, when the Boston, Mitchell, and Mosquito crews
were called upon to join in attacks against the depots and sites in
northern France from which the Germans were preparing to launch
flying bombs and rockets against England. Leigh-Mallory's squadrons
of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force had been given the task of
disrupting the German preparations because at this time the Allied
heavy bombers were almost fully committed to the assault on
German industry.
German scientists and technicians had begun the development of
flying bombs and rockets just before the war and an experimental
station had been set up at Peenemunde, on the Baltic coast. At first
progress was slow but in 1943, on Hitler's orders, work was considerably accelerated. Royal Air Force raids on Germany were then
beginning to hurt and Hitler wanted reprisals, but the bomber arm
of the Luftwaffe was weak and he felt that the pilotless weapons
offered the best chance of hitting back. Indeed, many of the German
leaders hoped that the new reprisal weapons, the Vergeltungswaffen,
would turn the tide of war in their favour.
In Britain it was already realised that if the Germans were allowed
to proceed with their preparations unmolested the assault by flying
bombs and rockets – known as the V-1 and V-2 – could begin early
in 1944. Counter measures therefore received high priority, but they
were prepared in an atmosphere of secrecy which kept the mass of
the British people in ignorance of the danger that was imminent.
The heavy raid by RAF Bomber Command on Peenemunde in
August 1943 had upset the German timetable, but by December
production of flying bombs and construction of the actual firing
sites for these weapons had reached an advanced stage. Royal Air
Force photographic reconnaissance had already revealed the presence
of over sixty launching areas and, by the third week of January
1944, no fewer than ninety-seven such targets had been identified,
mainly in the Pas-de-Calais area, where they were directed against
London; buildings for the storage and assembly of the flying bombs
were also discovered. Most of the launching areas were built in or
on the edges of forests, but the newly constructed roads and railways which fed them defeated this initial attempt at concealment,
although later the Germans became much more skilful at camouflaging their installations. However, from the outset they presented small
targets since each site usually occupied an area of less than fifty
yards square. The aircrews soon nicknamed them ‘ski-sites’ because
when seen from the air they looked like a large ski lying on its side.
Aircraft of Leigh-Mallory's AEAF opened their attack on 5
December 1943 and during the next six months dropped over 31,000
tons of bombs with considerable effect. A large majority of the
identified ‘ski-sites’ were destroyed and most of the others rendered
at least temporarily unfit for use, so that the opening of the German
assault was further delayed for several vital months. Neither bad
weather nor strong defences gave the Germans much protection
against the persistent Allied attack. Using the latest radar aids for
navigation and bomb-aiming, British and American aircraft were
able to strike at their extremely difficult targets with remarkable
accuracy.
In the RAF attacks, which accounted for half the bomb tonnage
dropped, it was found that the more strongly defended sites were
best attacked by Mosquitos, which could sweep low across the target
unmolested by the heavy guns which could not be set to open fire
on them. Other sites which might be reached without flying over
areas where anti-aircraft fire was concentrated were also attacked
by the Mosquitos from low level. The Mitchells and Bostons were
usually sent to targets where defences were considered moderate and
bombing heights were varied according to whether heavy or light
flak was expected. Much of the success of these missions depended
on the selection of the most suitable bombing force and careful
routing and timing of the bombers. Wing Commander Magill, now
a member of the Operations Staff at No. 2 Group Headquarters,
was the officer largely responsible for arranging these difficult
operations.
New Zealand airmen took part in practically every mission flown
by the Mitchells and Bostons during the last days of 1943 and the
first months of the new year. Their squadrons continued to fly in
formations of six aircraft, which bombed on a ‘follow the leader’
principle. This system had its merits for the most experienced
navigators flew in the leading machines, but there were occasions
when the leader failed to reach the target and the bombing went
astray owing to lack of guidance. Crews found that the main opposition usually came from the ground defences, the enemy fighters
being deterred from interfering by the strength of the Spitfire escort.
There were exceptions however. On 21 January, when twelve
Mitchells from No. 226 Squadron together with an equal number
from No. 320 Dutch Squadron went to attack a flying-bomb site
near Calais, they met enemy fighters in strength. Flight Sergeant
Moon's
Flying Officer E. D. Moon; born Christchurch, 19 Dec 1923; civil servant; joined
RNZAFJan 1942.
aircraft was attacked by a Focke-Wulf 190 and hit in one
of the engine nacelles and in both turrets. His wireless operator and
air gunner were wounded, but Moon flew his damaged machine back
to England to make a safe landing at an airfield in Kent. Eight
New Zealanders flew with No. 226 Squadron this day, Flying
Officer A. Willis being leading navigator in the second formation.
During the winter months crews flying missions against the
flying-bomb sites had to contend with many difficulties. On some
days the bombers were not always able to make rendezvous with
their fighter escort, or else they flew across the Channel only to find
the target area hidden by cloud. Early in February the flying-bomb
site at Livossart in the Pas-de-Calais was visited on three successive
days by Mitchells of Nos. 98 and 180 Squadrons, New Zealanders
taking part in each operation. In the first two attacks navigators had
difficulty in locating the site at all as cloud prevented them from
finding pinpoints on which to check their course, while on the third
occasion aircraft reached the target area only to find dense cloud
which made bombing impossible
During the second attack on 9 February the Mitchell captained
by Flying Officer Struthers of No. 180 Squadron was hit under
the port wing by heavy flak, which put an engine out of action and
tore large holes in the wing and tail. The aircraft went into a dive
but Struthers, with the help of his navigator, Flight Sergeant
Browne,
Warrant Officer T. E. Browne, DFM; born Hokitika, 24 Apr 1919; draughtsman;
joined RNZAFDec 1941.
regained control and headed out across the Channel. After
a difficult flight the English coast came in sight and Struthers decided
to attempt to land at an emergency airfield. But when the undercarriage was lowered the bomber again began to go down out of
control. Struthers and Browne fought with all their strength to keep
the machine level but soon realised it would crash short of the
landing strip. Then suddenly they saw they were heading straight
for a row of cottages. With a tremendous effort Struthers managed
to get sufficient response from the controls to lift the Mitchell over
the cottages but it struck some high tension cables and fell to the
ground in flames. Struthers and Browne escaped with severe burns,
but Warrant Officer Hammond,
Warrant Officer D. C. Hammond; born Ohaeawai, 14 Jun 1922; truck driver; joined
RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 9 Feb 1944.
their wireless operator, was killed
in the crash.
Crews from the New Zealand Mosquito Squadron completed
many missions without notable incident, but early in January when
fifteen aircraft flew to bomb a site in the Dieppe area they met
sharp anti-aircraft fire. During the approach to the target the
Mosquito flown by Pilot Officer Fowler
Flying Officer D. R. Fowler; born Gore, 2 Jun 1919; Post Office telegraphist; joined
RNZAFOct 1941.
was badly hit, the tail and
hydraulic system damaged, and the bomb doors blown open. Fowler
kept formation and completed his attack. On reaching base he was
unable to lower the undercarriage but, after all efforts to unlock the
wheels had failed, he made a successful belly landing. Later in the
month Flying Officer Beazer
Flying Officer R. C. Beazer; born Feilding, 12 Nov 1914; carpenter; joined RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 5 Jul 1944.
had to fly back to Hunsdon on one
engine after the other had been put out of action by flak. On another
occasion Flying Officer Avery,
Flying Officer D. V. Avery; born New Plymouth, 23 Oct 1922; farmer; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
who flew with the Australian
Squadron, had a difficult flight after his Mosquito had been hit in
the tail and the elevators badly damaged. He was forced to use the
trimming tabs as the only means of fore-and-aft control. The
Mosquito was too unstable for Avery to attempt a landing and he
and his navigator baled out over the south coast, sustaining only
minor injuries. Pilot Officer Barriball
Pilot Officer M. E. P. Barriball; born Auckland, 12 May 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFJan 1942; killed on air operations, 13 Mar 1944.
was not so fortunate. After
attacking a flying-bomb site at Herboville he had reached the coast
when his machine was caught by a burst of light flak. Barriball made
a landing on the sea but his Mosquito was seen to break up
immediately.
Several crews had narrow escapes during their low-level attacks.
During one March raid Squadron Leader Kain
Squadron Leader G. C. Kain; born Wanganui, 4 Jul 1914; joined RAFJun 1936;
transferred RNZAFMar 1945.
swerved to avoid
another Mosquito and hit the top of a tree. A second pilot flew
into some telegraph wires, setting an engine on fire, but he was able
to make a safe crash-landing on return. Warrant Officer Ward
Warrant Officer B. Ward; born Napier, 8 Aug 1919; P & T Dept cadet; joined RNZAFSep 1940; killed on air operations, 5 Jul 1944.
was
flying over the site at Hambures when his machine was damaged
by blast from exploding bombs and he just managed to get back to
an airfield in Kent.
Flying Officer Greenaway
Flight Lieutenant F. H. Greenaway, MBE; born Toowoomba, Australia, 2 Mar 1909;
accountant; joined RNZAFJan 1942.
was involved in a remarkable episode
early in January. He was navigating a Mosquito of No. 21 Squadron
which set off from Hunsdon to bomb a site near Abbeville. As the
formation crossed the French coast Greenaway's pilot saw a flock of
birds ahead, and in going a few feet lower to avoid them one
propeller hit a sand bank in the middle of the Somme estuary. The
machine shuddered violently but remained airborne, so the bomb
load was jettisoned and the pilot turned for home. But just as he
did so both engines seized up and the Mosquito went down on the
sand a few yards from the edge of the water. Greenaway and his
companion were quickly surrounded by Germans and had no alternative but to surrender. After being held three days for interroga-
tion, Greenaway, his pilot, and three other British airmen were
taken in a lorry from the civil prison at Beauvais to the Gare de L'Est
in Paris, en route for a prisoner-of-war camp. The men were guarded
by four Germans, who on arrival at the station began to unload
several cases. The last one was large and heavy and to make handling
easier the Germans slung their rifles over their shoulders.
Greenaway, who had been waiting such an opportunity and had
already feigned injury to a leg to avoid suspicion, vaulted to the
ground and ran out of the station into the darkness. He turned
up a side alley, saw a light in a building and ‘taking a chance’, as
he put it, knocked at the door. He was given a complete civilian
suit and some money, allowed to shave off his moustache and the
beard he had grown since capture, and then guided to the Gare du
Nord. By midnight, Greenaway had succeeded in getting well clear
of Paris. He continued his journey across country during the next
few days, receiving help from time to time from French people.
Eventually he met members of the French Resistance Movement,
and with further help from them was able to reach Gibraltar. He
returned to England early in April little the worse for his experience.
At the beginning of February 1944 Wing Commander I. S. Smith
Wing Commander I. S. Smith, DFC and bar; born Invercargill, 21 May 1917; joined
RAFMar 1940; commanded No. 151 Sqdn, 1942–43; No. 487 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944.
assumed command of No. 487 Squadron in succession to Wing
Commander Wilson, who had led the New Zealanders since May
1943. Smith had flown a Hurricane during the Battle of Britain. He
later won particular distinction as a night-fighter pilot and commanded No. 151 Squadron with outstanding success. Both the flight
commanders were now also New Zealanders – Squadron Leaders
Lucas
Wing Commander F. J. Lucas, DFC and bar; born Dunedin, 18 Aug 1915; joined RAF1936; transferred RNZAFJul 1939; OC No. 1 (GR) Sqdn, 1942–43; served No. 487
Sqdn and HQ Transport Command, 1943–45.
and G. C. Kain. Lucas had been with the New Zealand
Wellington Flight at the outbreak of war and had completed two
tours of operations with No. 75 Bomber Squadron. He then returned
to serve in New Zealand but after a year asked to be sent back
to the United Kingdom. Kain had also flown with No. 75 Squadron,
and after a period as an instructor at an operational training unit
he went to New Zealand in March 1942, returning shortly before
Lucas.
No. 487 Squadron now began the gradual change to its new role
of night intruding, which had been the intention since its conversion
to Mosquitos. Night training had been continued between operations during the winter and crews were well prepared for their
new task. In February thirty-three night sorties were made by the
New Zealand Mosquitos against airfields in France and Holland,
but in March the main effort was again directed to the attack of
flying-bomb sites by day.
During the following months much of the effort of the two
Mosquito wings now with No. 2 Group continued to be directed
against flying-bomb sites. Usually formations of from two or four
aircraft flew with similar numbers from other squadrons of their
wing, but on occasion the wings combined for heavier attacks. Bombing at speed from heights between 100 feet and 1000 feet, crews
were seldom able to see the results of their attacks, but it is now
considered that the Mosquito effort was the most economical of any
employed against these targets, one site being sufficiently damaged
to warrant suspension from attack for every sixty-two sorties flown.
* * * * *
A notable and unusual mission, the attack on Amiens prison – in
which No. 487 Squadron played a prominent part – must now be
recorded.
During January 1944 information was received in London that
well over one hundred loyal Frenchmen were in the jail at Amiens
awaiting death for their efforts in the Allied cause; some had been
condemned for assisting Allied airmen to escape after they had been
brought down in France. The leaders of the French Resistance
Movement asked if bombers could break down the prison walls –
even at the risk of killing some of the patriots – as this offered their
only reasonable prospect of escape. The RAF accepted this exacting
task and Mosquitos from Embry's No. 2 Group were chosen as
the aircraft most likely to achieve success. The choice proved well
justified and, as a result of careful planning, accurate navigation
and fine precision bombing, this mission to Amiens was to rank
among the most memorable daylight raids of the war.
The prison was built in the shape of a cross and surrounded by
a wall twenty feet high and some three feet thick. Inside this wall
the yard was fenced to segregate the prisoners while they were at
exercise and they were guarded by German troops living in a special
wing of the prison. To enable the prisoners to escape, both ends of
the main building had to be blown open and the outer walls of the
prison breached in two places. But the attack would have to be
sufficiently discriminating to ensure that, while decisive force was
used against these parts of the prison, casualties among the prisoners
were kept to a minimum. The timing of the bombing was also
important for the escaping men were to receive assistance from
patriots outside who would be warned of the exact hour and minute
of the attack.
Mosquitos from No. 140 Wing, which included No. 21 RAF,
No. 464 Australian, and No. 487 New Zealand Squadrons, were
selected to make the attack, with Typhoons from Fighter Command
as escort. The New Zealanders were to lead the raid and breach
the eastern and northern walls, while the Australians were given the
tasks of opening out the ends of the main building and of destroying
the German guards' quarters. Mosquitos from No. 21 Squadron
were to act as reserve in case there should be any hitch in the plan
when they would be called into action by Group Captain Pickard,
who was in command of the whole force. Pickard, one of the most
outstanding and experienced bomber pilots then with the RAF, was
Station Commander at Hunsdon, the base from which the operation
was to be launched. The date was provisionally fixed for 17
February, and the bombers were to arrive over the prison precisely
at noon, but in the event of severe weather the raid was to be postponed for twenty-four hours. The French had been informed of this
possibility and the organisation within the prison made their plans
accordingly.
Thick cloud and snowstorms ruled out any attempt on the first
day. The following morning the nineteen crews specially chosen
for this mission were astir early to find the airfield still covered with
snow and low cloud, but as predictions were more hopeful it was
decided to proceed with the operation. Ground crews made a final
check over the Mosquitos as the aircrews assembled for briefing.
They found stringent security precautions in force and each man's
name was checked as he entered the briefing room. The atmosphere
of expectancy and curiosity was further increased by a large box on
the front table covering a model of the target. ‘It's another of those
“derring-do” shows,’ one navigator is said to have remarked drily.
Soon briefing began. First to speak was the force commander,
Group Captain Pickard, who explained the purpose and unusual
nature of the mission. The crews listened intently and with growing
interest. ‘We heard the details of this mission with considerable
emotion,’ writes Wing Commander Smith. ‘After four years of war
just doing everything possible to destroy life, here we were going
to use our skill to save it. It was a grand feeling and every pilot
left the briefing room prepared to fly into the walls rather than fail
to breach them. There was nothing particularly unusual in it as an
operational sortie but because of this life-saving aspect it was to be
one of the great moments in our lives.’ The briefing was lengthy
for the crews had to make a careful study of their route and the
model of the prison which had been constructed from photographs
and other information obtained from France, but by mid-morning
all preparations had been completed and the Mosquitos were lined
up ready for take-off according to strict schedule.
It was still snowing and visibility was poor when the nineteen
bombers set off, and watchers on the airfield caught only a fleeting
glimpse of each machine before it disappeared into swirling mist
and snowflakes. Smith led the way with the No. 487 formation, in
which other New Zealand captains were Pilot Officers D. R. Fowler,
Sparks
Flying Officer M. N. Sparks; born Auckland, 30 Dec 1920; assistant chemist; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
and Darrall,
Flying Officer M. L. S. Darrall; born Morrinsville, 5 Sep 1919; farmer; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
who had Pilot Officer Stevenson
Flying Officer F. S. Stevenson; born Devonport, 11 Feb 1920; electrical apprentice;
joined RNZAFMay 1941.
as navigator.
With No. 21 Squadron, Flying Officer Gabites flew as leading
navigator, and one of the Australian Mosquitos was navigated by
Flight Lieutenant Sampson.
Flight Lieutenant R. W. Sampson; born Dannevirke, 21 Dec 1908; farmer; joined
RNZAFJun 1940; killed on air operations, 18 Feb 1944.
As the bombers and their escort of
Typhoons flew low across the Channel towards the French coast the
snow and mist began to give way to bright sunshine. The fields and
villages of France were still covered in a blanket of snow, but the
navigators made no mistake and the force swept round to the north
of Amiens to approach the prison along the straight Amiens-Albert
road. This dramatic moment in the raid is described by one New
Zealand captain in these words:
I shall never forget that road – long and straight, and covered with snow.
It was lined with tall poplars, and we were flying so low that I had to keep
my aircraft tilted at an angle to avoid hitting the tops of the trees with my
wing …. The poplars suddenly petered out, and there, a mile ahead, was
the prison. It looked just like the model, and within a few seconds we were
almost on top of it ….
As previously arranged, each wave of bombers had split into
sections of three aircraft shortly before the target was reached. The
leading New Zealand section now swept in to hurl twelve 500-pound
bombs at the eastern wall. ‘For safety, we flew in somewhat loose
formation until we came near to the run up,’ Wing Commander
Smith said afterwards, ‘and then everyone tightened up wing tip to
wing tip. We just cleared the wall and no more after letting our
bombs go.’ Smith's bombs were seen to hit the wall a few feet from
the ground, other bursts were adjacent to it with an overshoot in
a field to the north. Two aircraft of the second New Zealand
section – one had been forced to return to base – then attacked the
northern wall, only just clearing it as they broke away. The
Australian Mosquitos followed and, as the last of their bombs
exploded, Pickard could see that sufficient openings had been made
for the prisoners to escape so he ordered No. 21 Squadron not to
attack. The Mosquitos then turned and began to close up for the
homeward flight. As they did so a Mosquito from the RAF Film
Unit made three runs over the prison. Its crew saw breaches in the
main walls and considerable damage to the ends of the buildings;
prisoners were running out through the broken walls and disappearing across the snow in the fields outside the prison.
German anti-aircraft guns in the vicinity had now opened fire and
Focke-Wulf fighters had taken off from the airfield at Amiens only
three miles away. The British force thus had to fight its way out
through fairly stiff opposition. Almost at once the Australian
Mosquito in which Sampson was navigator was shot down. A shell
exploding beside the cockpit killed Sampson outright and his pilot,
Squadron Leader McRitchie,
Squadron Leader A. I. McRitchie, DFC; born Melbourne, 16 Jun 1915; metallurgist
and flying instructor; joined RAFNov 1940; p.w. 18 Feb 1944.
of Melbourne, was temporarily blinded
and his right arm paralysed. The Mosquito was doing 300 miles an
hour at 50 feet but McRitchie managed a crash-landing on a snow-covered field.
The Germans subsequently held McRitchie for 42 days in solitary confinement, threatening Gestapo treatment unless he revealed how the RAF and French underground had
planned the raid. But they learnt nothing.
A few minutes later Group Captain Pickard, who had
stayed behind to assess the results of the attack, was set upon by two
Focke-Wulfs and shot down only a few miles from Amiens. Both he
and his navigator were killed in the crash. Two Typhoons of the
fighter escort also failed to return.
All seven New Zealand Mosquitos got back to England safely,
but four of them were badly damaged, two so severely that they
never flew again. Sparks and his crew had an eventful return flight.
Shortly after leaving the target their machine was hit in one engine
and Sparks had great difficulty in keeping it airborne. He managed to
get back across the Channel and land at an advanced base, where
one wheel collapsed as the machine touched down.
Remarkable fortitude was displayed by Flight Lieutenant Hanafin,
Flight Lieutenant B. D. Hanafin, DFC; RAF; born Alexandria, Egypt, 1 Jan 1921;
student; joined RAFJun 1940.
who captained another Mosquito from No. 487 Squadron. On the way
to the target an engine caught fire. Hanafin feathered it, the flames
subsided, and he managed to stay with the formation for some time.
But eventually he began to drop back, whereupon he restarted the
bad engine and rejoined the formation. Again the engine started
to burn and Hanafin was forced to leave the formation about ten
miles short of the target. He jettisoned his bombs and turned for
home, but on the way out was twice hit by flak and wounded in the
neck, which paralysed him all down his right side, including the
arm and leg. He was in great pain and his navigator gave him a
morphine injection as he sat at the controls. Typical February
weather over England made the return flight difficult, but Hanafin
stuck it out and landed his disabled machine without further damage
at an airfield in Sussex.
It was subsequently learnt that as a result of the Mosquito attack,
of a total of over seven hundred prisoners of all classes held in the
prison, 258 escaped, including over half the patriots who were
awaiting execution. The most important prisoner to escape was
Monsieur Vivant, Under-Prefect of Abbeville, who had been
arrested by the Germans four days before the attack. He was a key
member of the Resistance Movement in his district and was later
to serve in General de Gaulle's Government.
It was inevitable that some prisoners should be killed during the
raid, some by the bombs and others by German machine-gun fire
while attempting to escape. There was also some damage to property
outside the prison from bombs which bounced over the walls, but
fortunately French civilians suffered few casualties. Five days after
the raid the following message was received in London from the
leader of the French Resistance:
I thank you in the name of my comrades for bombardment of the prison.
The delay was too short and we were not able to save all but thanks to
admirable precision of attack the first bombs blew in nearly all the doors
and many prisoners escaped with the help of civilian population. Twelve
of these prisoners were to have been shot the next day ….
So ended one of the many gallant episodes in which the RAF
helped and encouraged patriot organisations on the Continent. It
was indeed a worthy gesture, for the men and women who worked
in those organisations – French, Dutch, Belgian, Polish, and
Norwegian alike – displayed great courage. Many frequently risked
their lives to help Allied airmen shot down over enemy territory,
and those who were betrayed or captured suffered cruelly at the
hands of the Gestapo. The whole of their work forms an epic
story in itself. Much of it will never be told. But at least let their
amazing courage and quiet heroism be remembered.
CHAPTER 7
Day-Fighters and Fighter-bombers
Supremacy in the air over Western Europe was won only after
a long and bitter struggle but by the beginning of 1943 the
initiative had, in large measure, passed to the Allied air forces based
in Britain. With the expanding production of British factories and
the advent of more squadrons and supplies from the United States,
these forces were now increasing steadily both in size and strength.
The Luftwaffe, on the other hand, had been seriously weakened by
heavy losses of men and machines both in Russia and in the
Mediterranean and these campaigns were to remain a steady drain
on German air power. And although the Germans made desperate
efforts to meet the growing air offensive from Britain by transferring units from other fronts and by energetic reorganisation of
their aircraft production to provide more fighters, they were unable
to prevent the Allies from steadily gaining the ascendancy in the
West. This ascendancy became more clearly evident towards the
end of 1943 when for five months scarcely a single German aircraft
appeared over the United Kingdom in daylight, while during the
same period the RAF alone flew more than 52,000 sorties by day
over German or German-occupied territory.
An important contribution to this favourable turn of events was
made by Royal Air Force Fighter Command. Its large and efficient
organisation, ever on the alert, was not only a powerful deterrent
to the launching of any serious aerial attack against the United
Kingdom but it also made even effective reconnaissance most difficult
for the enemy. At the same time the British fighter squadrons,
sweeping forward in great strength from their island base, had
maintained constant pressure against the Luftwaffe over France,
Belgium and Holland, inflicting heavy casualties in men and
machines and forcing the Germans to engage in a war of attrition
in the West at a time when they were heavily involved elsewhere.
Patrols over enemy territory by very large formations now
absorbed the major effort of the RAF day-fighter squadrons. This
in itself was an interesting development, for Fighter Command had
been built up primarily to defend the United Kingdom. However,
when the Luftwaffe, after its defeat in the skies over England during
the summer of 1940, did not return to the assault on any appreciable
scale, Fighter Command had turned to the offensive and begun to
seek out the enemy over his own airfields on the Continent. After
a modest beginning early in 1941, formations of Spitfires had flown
across the Channel in ever-growing strength until, by the middle of
1942, missions involving upwards of fifteen squadrons were a daily
routine. The various operations did not always succeed in their
purpose of drawing enemy fighters into battle, for the Germans
often allowed large formations of Spitfires to fly unmolested over
northern France and even at times ignored light bombing raids
rather than risk action under unfavourable conditions. The range
of the British fighters was also limited and, even when bombers
accompanied them, the attacks frequently lacked sting. Yet there
were occasions, notably at Dieppe in August 1942, when the
Germans reacted strongly and major battles resulted. Intensive
operations during that year had compelled the Germans to devote
the whole output of their new Focke-Wulf fighter exclusively to
meeting the RAF sweeps over the fringes of Occupied Europe, and
units which might otherwise have been used in the Mediterranean
or to reinforce the Russian front were kept at full stretch in Western
Europe.
During 1942, when the Germans were sweeping forward in
Russia and the Middle East, this pinning down in the West of as
large a part as possible of German air strength by offensive sweeps
and ‘circus’ operations with bombers had been the primary task of
the day-fighter squadrons. But in 1943 there came a distinct change
in their role. The Luftwaffe had suffered severe losses at Stalingrad
and in Africa. Moreover, the daylight offensive by Allied bombers
was now increasing rapidly and with it came the demand for more
and heavier fighter escorts. This altered the whole nature of the day-fighter operations. Instead of bombers being used mainly as bait
to lure enemy fighters into action, the bombing now became the
principal mission and the supporting fighters were employed
primarily to further that effort. ‘Circuses’ were thus gradually
replaced by ‘Ramrods’, a code-name which signified the greater
power and thrust of the new Allied offensive by day.
* * * * *
By April 1943 the British day-fighter force comprised sixty-nine
squadrons, two-thirds of them equipped with Spitfires and all but
four of the remainder with Typhoons. Unfortunately many of the
Spitfire squadrons were still equipped with obsolescent Mark Vs –
‘clipped, cropped and clapped’ as one humorist described them.
In order to increase speed and lateral manoeuvrability, the Spitfire's wing span had been
reduced by suppressing the wing tips which had previously rounded off the ellipse of the
wing so harmoniously. The engines had been ‘cropped’ by reducing the diameter of the
supercharger turbine. This allowed power to be stepped up rapidly below 3000 feet but
above that height the power curve fell away rapidly. ‘Clapped’ expressed the general
opinion among pilots of these machines, for while extremely fast at low level they became
sluggish at 10,000 feet, the height at which most escort missions were now flown.
But the Spitfire IX was gradually coming into more general use
and was regarded as slightly superior in speed and climb to the
contemporary German fighters, the FW190 and the Me109G,
although British pilots found both enemy machines tough and
worthy opponents – the Focke-Wulf, for example, could flick from
a steep turn in one direction to a diving turn in the other with
startling rapidity. The Hawker Typhoon, which had been introduced
into the RAF during 1942, achieved its best performance at low
level and was first employed to intercept coastal raiders, but it soon
proved as versatile a machine as its redoubtable forerunner, the
Hurricane. Adapted to fire rocket projectiles or to carry two 500-
pound bombs, the Typhoon was eventually to operate with outstanding success as a fighter-bomber against a wide variety of targets in
enemy-occupied territory.
During 1943 offensive patrols over France and the Low Countries
were flown principally by the forty-eight squadrons located south of
the line from the Wash to the Bristol Channel, well over half these
units being stationed at airfields of No. 11 Group in south-east
England. The squadrons were usually organised in two-squadron
wings named after the base from which they operated, and Biggin
Hill in Kent, Kenley in Surrey, Tangmere in Sussex, Hornchurch,
North Weald and Debden in Essex, and Northolt in Middlesex,
were among the famous Battle of Britain airfields from which
fighter wings flew against the Luftwaffe.
The fighters now received valuable assistance from ground control
in England during their missions over enemy territory. Specially sited
radar stations of greater range and power were being built – the
first had opened at Appledore, Kent, in June 1942 – which could
detect the movements of enemy aircraft well inside the French and
Belgian coasts. Controllers were thus able to pass information to
the British squadrons as they flew across the Channel and even, on
occasion, direct them into battle over enemy territory. The chief
merit of this system, whose operational success was immediate and
prolonged, lay in the fact that it deprived the enemy of the strong
advantage previously given by his early-warning system. No longer
could the Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts take off from their fields
at Abbeville and Amiens to reach the favourable height and position
from which they were wont to ‘bounce’ the approaching Spitfires.
Instead it was the British formations, forewarned of their move-
ments, that frequently succeeded in springing the surprise.
The increase in Fighter Command's escort work was rapid. In
April 1943 just over three thousand sorties were flown by the Spitfires as cover to Fortress and Liberator bombers of the United StatesAir Force and to Bostons, Mitchells, and Venturas of No. 2 Group
Bomber Command. Within three months this total had been doubled,
and before the end of the year large forces of American bombers
were being escorted by formations of over 500 British fighters on
a single raid. Normally bomber formations were escorted from the
time they left the English coast until they returned, but when their
targets were beyond fighter range, the bombers were escorted to the
limit of the fighters' endurance and then met on return by large
formations which covered their withdrawal.
Two operations, one in March and the other in June, illustrate
the support given by Fighter Command to United States bomber
forces during 1943 before they were able to have full cover provided
by their own long-range fighters. On 13 March when the marshalling yards at Amiens were the target for seventy Fortresses, eleven
squadrons of Spitfires were detailed as escort. The raid was in two
parts. First of all the Fortresses, supported by RAF fighters, made
a feint attack towards Dieppe to draw enemy fighters into the air
away from the intended target. The Hornchurch Wing, which flew
in simultaneously to deal with any reaction, succeeded in intercepting
a mixed formation of some twenty Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts,
and claimed three of them destroyed without loss. Then the
Fortresses swept back across the Channel to pick up their escort
for the main attack. Around them gathered the fighter wings from
Northolt and North Weald, the Kenley Wing took station above
as high cover, and slightly ahead were the Biggin Hill squadrons
which were to act as target support. The whole force then made its
way to Amiens by a somewhat circuitous route but the majority of
the bombers identified and attacked the primary target. Over France
small formations of German fighters made spasmodic attempts at
interception, but none of the Fortresses was lost and the Spitfires
claimed four German fighters destroyed, together with four more
‘probables’, for the loss of six pilots. The withdrawal of the main
Allied force had meanwhile been covered by two Spitfire squadrons
of the Debden Wing which patrolled the French coast from Cayeux
to Dieppe.
On 22 June 235 Fortress bombers attacked the synthetic rubber
plant at Huls, a few miles north of Krefeld. This first attack on the
Ruhr by American bombers was attended by considerable success,
over 420 tons of bombs falling in or near the target area; the entire
plant was shut down for four weeks and full production was not
achieved again until several months later. However, during the first
part of their return flight from the Ruhr the Fortresses were heavily
engaged by German fighters and sixteen of the bombers were shot
down. But as the official American Air Historian records: ‘Losses
would have been even greater if effective withdrawal support had
not been provided by the twenty-three squadrons of Spitfires and the
three squadrons of Typhoons from the RAF.’
Arthur B. Ferguson in The Army Air Forces in World War II, Volume II, p. 673.
The fighters met the
returning bomber formations at extreme range and drove off trailing
German fighters. Pairs of Spitfires were also detached from squadrons to bring the stragglers home – an exhausting task as the
damaged Fortresses often dragged along on a third of their total
power, stretching the endurance of their escort to the limit.
Opposition to this American raid was further reduced by a simultaneous RAF attack on the docks at Rotterdam. Twelve Mitchells
from the No. 2 Bomber Group provided the bombing force and they
were escorted by four squadrons of Spitfires from the Kenley and
North Weald Wings. After meeting over Orfordness the formations
had flown across the Channel at sea level and then, near the Dutch
coast, had begun climbing until over their target they were stepped
up from 13,500 feet to just below 20,000 feet. A few Focke-Wulf
190s were then encountered but their attacks were not pressed home.
One of them was caught by crossfire from the bombers and shot
down. On their way out from the target the Spitfires engaged more
enemy fighters, claiming two of them probably destroyed and one
damaged for the loss of one British pilot.
This raid on Rotterdam was typical of the many missions during
1943 in which large formations of Spitfires escorted Bostons,
Mitchells, and Venturas of No. 2 Group on bombing raids against
enemy airfields, ports, ships and harbour installations, factories and
power-stations and various rail targets, particularly engine sheds
and repair depots. The Spitfire squadrons were also active in support
of Coastal Command Beaufighters in their attacks on shipping in
the North Sea and along the Dutch coast.
Interspersed with these various escort duties were sweeps by large
numbers of fighters over Belgium and northern France, and on days
of poor visibility the offensive was maintained by small formations
in nuisance raids. Low-level attacks by fighter-bombers against military targets on the Continent and shipping in the Channel increased
steadily as the months passed and were to prove a most profitable
venture. There was, in fact, a constant challenge to the fighter arm
of the Luftwaffe.
Another duty in which certain squadrons tended to specialise was
that of fighter reconnaissance. Their patrols, which covered a wide
area of the North Sea, the Channel, and those parts of enemy
territory within effective range, were usually flown by Spitfires or
Mustangs. They watched the movement of enemy shipping and
provided useful information regarding activity at airfields, ports, and
along the Channel coast. Many pilots found this dull work since it
seldom provided opportunity for combat, but it was upon the reports
they brought back that many successful daylight bombing raids were
planned and carried out.
Spitfires and Typhoons were also employed on interception patrols
against the German fighter-bombers which flew in from the sea to
attack shipping and towns along the southern coast of England.
But, as might be expected, such defensive patrols became a steadily
decreasing commitment for the day-fighter squadrons until by June
1943 they accounted for less than one-seventh of the total effort
during the daylight hours. Patrols to protect coastal shipping were,
however, flown throughout the year, and the fighters frequently
escorted aircraft from the rescue squadrons on their errands of
mercy.
* * * * *
In all these various tasks New Zealand fighter pilots played their
part. Some flew with RAF squadrons, others with the two New
Zealand day-fighter units, No. 485 Spitfire Squadron and No. 486
Typhoon Squadron, both of which were stationed in No. 11 Fighter
Group throughout 1943. Twenty New Zealanders led fighter wings
or squadrons for various periods during this year, and many posts
on the operational and training staffs of Fighter Command and
Group Headquarters were filled by experienced pilots in between
their spells of operational flying. A significant group of men from
the Dominion also served as ground crew at the front-line airfields.
By September 1943, of the New Zealanders who had served with
Fighter Command, 250 had lost their lives since the outbreak of war.
As the wing formation had now become the mainstay of the
fighter offensive, it was upon the wing leader that a great deal of
the responsibility for success in operations ultimately rested. He had
to weld his squadrons into a fighting team, train them in tactics,
brief them for particular missions and lead them into battle. During
1943 particular distinction in this role was won by Wing Commanders P. G. Jameson, who led the Norwegian Wing, A. C. Deere,
Wing Commander A. C. Deere, DSO, OBE, DFC and bar, Distinguished Flying Cross
(US), Croix de Guerre (Fr.); RAF; born Auckland, 12 Dec 1917; joined RAF1937;
commanded No. 602 Sqdn, 1941; Wing Leader, Biggin Hill, 1943; Wing Commander
No. 84 Group, 1944–45; commanded RAF Station, Duxford, 1945–46; Air Staff, Malta,
1948–49; commanded RAF North Weald, 1952–54.
who led the squadrons from Biggin Hill, and W. V. Crawford-
Compton
Wing Commander W. V. Crawford-Compton, DSO and bar, DFC and bar, Silver
Star (US), Legion of Honour and Croix de Guerre with Palm (Fr.); RAF; born Invercargill, 2 Mar 1916; joined RAFOct 1939; commanded No. 64 Sqdn, 1942; Wing Leader,
Hornchurch, 1943; lecture tour in USA, 1944; Wing Leader, No. 145 Wing, 2nd TAF
1944; Planning Staff, No. 11 Fighter Group, 1945; Air Attache, Oslo, 1950–53.
with the Hornchurch Wing.
Early in December 1942 Jameson was appointed to lead the
Norwegian squadrons from North Weald in Essex. The choice was
an apt one, for Jameson was one of the few surviving pilots from
the two fighter squadrons that had flown from Norway during the
short campaign in 1940. His No. 46 Hurricane Squadron was then
frequently in action over the Narvik area and on one occasion,
whilst leading his flight on reconnaissance over strange territory,
Jameson discovered and destroyed two enemy flying boats which
were hidden against the almost vertical side of Rembaksfjord. In the
withdrawal from Narvik, Jameson and another pilot had made the
first trial landings on the aircraft carrier Glorious after the pilots
decided to attempt such a hazard rather than destroy their Hurri-
canes. All the fighters were then successfully flown on but unfortunately the Glorious was sunk the next day. Jameson was among the
few survivors. Subsequently he had distinguished himself in operations with Fighter Command in the United Kingdom, both during
and after the Battle of Britain.
During the first half of 1943 Jameson led the Norwegian Wing
on almost every occasion they operated. In one period of nine weeks
he led twenty-one missions over enemy territory, during which
thirteen German fighters were claimed destroyed for the loss of only
two pilots. Jameson himself destroyed two of the enemy aircraft
and damaged another, but as a senior officer has recorded: ‘It was
his splendid leadership and fine tactical knowledge which gained
the greatest praise from those he led and with whom he worked at
North Weald.’
Jameson's wing was now frequently called upon to protect
American bombers. One day whilst escorting a force of Liberators
over Dunkirk, there was a fierce battle in which the Norwegian
pilots acquitted themselves particularly well in defence of the
bombers and claimed eight Focke-Wulfs destroyed without loss.
This action drew a special letter of commendation from the leader
of the American 8th Air Force in Britain.
But there were other times when things did not go so well. In one
battle Jameson became separated from his section and it was only
through first-class aerobatics and sheer determination that he escaped
being shot down. He afterwards reported the incident in these words:
I was leading the Wing …. sweeping five miles east of Dunkirk, Ypres,
St. Omer, Gravelines …. The French coast was crossed at 19,000 feet and
soon afterwards enemy aircraft were reported by Operations to be in the
St. Omer area at 20,000 feet and higher …. About two minutes after
receiving this message eight FW.190s were seen above, ahead and to star-
board. I manoeuvred for height and position and eventually got above them
and up sun. One section started to go down but I then saw many more enemy
aircraft above us and up sun so I recalled the section and climbed again
going into sun and towards St. Omer. When roughly over St. Omer, two
FW.190s flew slightly above and across my bows from starboard to port. I
turned quickly to try and get in a deflection shot, but owing to the slow
climbing speed of the Wing, I stalled before getting a shot. The Huns
rolled over and dived. My No. 2 and No. 3 mistaking each other for me,
went after the enemy aircraft one of which was subsequently damaged.
About 10 seconds after stalling I saw about nine FW.190s approximately
10,000 feet below, i.e., at 12,000 feet. Thinking I had my section with me,
I called up on the radio telephone and went down to the Huns. The enemy
aircraft dived down to ground level, I followed as far as 2,500 feet but
could not get nearer than 800 yards so I broke away and then found I was
…. alone! There were patches of broken cumulus at 2,000 feet and I
should have used this cloud to have gone home, but I started to climb towards
Gravelines and when over there at about 20,000 feet, I was bounced by
eight FW.190s.
I turned to meet the attack but the Huns formed a sort of circle around
me and kept darting in to attack from all directions. I fired one burst and
at the end of two seconds both my cannons stopped.
I called up the Wing and told them that I was being attacked but gave
no height and only a very rough position. I had by this time got a little ‘het’
up and although I did try to tell the Wing my position, I think that I forgot
to press the radio telephone switch.
The Huns continued to attack, sometimes in to 100 yards. I could see two
great balls of fire coming from their cannons. I continually turned steeply
almost in a stalled condition and every time I saw a Hun firing I flicked on
a little top or bottom rudder.
Realising that I could not stay there forever, I wound the tail wheel
forward and went down almost vertically doing tight aileron turns. The aircraft became unstable at the speed I achieved and on at least four occasions
the nose dropped quickly and I hit my head on the cockpit cover with a bang.
By the time I got down to the cloud my windscreen and hood were
completely frosted over with the exception of a visor about one inch wide
around the rear of the hood. The Huns were still following as I flew into
cloud. I then turned north-east and crossed the coast north of Dunkirk, by
this time flying on the deck.
I steered a course of 280° for what seemed an incredibly long time and
at last I saw land, cliffs, lighthouse and high ground behind. Where the ….
what the …. After cudgelling my brains I had at last the sense to look at
the sun …. it was Cap Gris Nez …. Compass u/s. Turning and keeping
the sun behind my left shoulder I cut the engine revolutions and boost down
and made for home, landing after being airborne for two hours and 15
gallons still in the tank, the aircraft and myself unscathed.
In March 1943, by which time he was credited with the destruction
of nine German machines, Jameson was made a member of the
Distinguished Service Order. A few months later he received the
award of the Norwegian War Cross with Sword – the highest
Norwegian decoration – in recognition of his ‘zealous leadership
of the Norwegian squadrons in joint operations against the enemy
which in a high degree has contributed to the results the Norwegian
pilots have obtained in combat.’ By this time Jameson had been
posted to No. 11 Group Headquarters as Training Officer and was
later made Group Captain in charge of plans. Subsequently he
returned to operations and after the Normandy invasion was to
cross the Channel with the Second Tactical Air Force in command
of a mobile wing.
Biggin Hill in Kent was one of the famous fighter stations in
England. In 1943 this notable airfield, greatly enlarged and with its
runways extended, was a forward base for offensive patrols across
the Channel, and appropriately enough was under the command
of the famous Battle of Britain fighter pilot, Group Captain ‘Sailor’
Malan.
Group Captain A. G. Malan, DSO and bar, DFC and bar, Croix de Guerre (Bel.), Military
Cross (Czech.), Legion of Honour and Croix de Guerre (Fr.); born Wellington, South
Africa, 3 Oct 1910; joined RAF1936; commanded No. 74 Sqdn, 1940–41; CFI No. 58
OTU, 1941; served with British Air Staff, Washington, 1941–42; commanded Central
Gunnery School, 1942; RAF Station, Biggin Hill, 1943; No. 19 Wing, 1943–44; No.
145 Wing, 2nd TAF, 1944; member of Directing Staff, RAF Staff College, 1945–46.
Wing Commander Alan Deere was posted to this station in March
1943 as Wing Commander Flying on his return to operations after
a period as Staff Officer at No. 13 Group Headquarters. To prepare
himself for this new appointment, Deere had spent a fortnight at
Biggin Hill in February, during which time he chose to fly as a
junior pilot on sweeps and escort patrols. During one of these
missions when an enemy formation split up and scattered, Deere
showed typical aggressiveness by chasing a Focke-Wulf far into
France and then shooting it down in flames.
Between March and September 1943 Deere led the Biggin Hill
Wing on some of the most successful operations of its career and
during this period sixty enemy fighters were claimed destroyed. He
was leading the squadrons on 15 May when Biggin Hill recorded
its thousandth enemy aircraft destroyed, to celebrate which event
a memorable party was staged at the Dorchester Hotel in London.
Large forces of American bombers were now often escorted, and
in one period of four weeks from the middle of July Deere led the
wing on fifteen such missions. Strong formations of enemy fighters
were frequently met in the vicinity of the target but due to his
excellent tactics and fine leadership losses were low and the
objectives effectively bombed. Indeed, throughout his period at
Biggin Hill, Deere displayed great energy and initiative in developing new tactics for the successful escort of bomber formations in
their daylight attacks. Many tributes to his leadership are recorded.
‘Since taking over the Biggin Hill Wing,’ writes Group Captain
Malan, ‘he has been an outstanding example of selfless devotion
to duty, tenacity of purpose, fearlessness in the face of the enemy
and of understatement in his personal combat claims. Apart from
being a brilliant individual fighter pilot, he has curbed his personal
ambition when leading the Wing and accepted the more serious
and exacting role and responsibility of leading. It is no exaggeration
to say that he has been an inspiration to the whole of Fighter
Command.’
‘Al’ Deere, as he was known to his friends, was of Irish stock,
his grandparents having emigrated to New Zealand from Tipperary.
He had joined the RAF in 1937 at the age of nineteen, and soon
won distinction as a fighter pilot. He excelled at Rugby football and
boxing and represented the RAF in both these sports. During 1940
Deere had won both the Distinguished Flying Cross and bar for his
exploits over Dunkirk and during the Battle of Britain. He soon
appeared to have a charmed life, so remarkable were his escapes
from disaster. Over Dunkirk one day he was shot up and wounded,
but he pancaked his Spitfire on the beach, scrambled out, found an
abandoned motor vehicle and reached Dunkirk port, to be brought
back to England by a British destroyer. Subsequently he baled out
several times, twice after mid-air collisions, once when his aircraft
was cut in half by another Spitfire and once after being almost
rammed by a Messerschmitt. On another occasion his fighter was
blown into the air by an enemy bomb burst as he was taking off.
His machine crashed upside down but he was not badly hurt.
Reports of such breathtaking escapes and adventures during the
early campaigns have tended to obscure the reputation as an outstanding leader which Deere subsequently won with both the Kenley
and Biggin Hill Wings, and this aspect of a very notable career
must therefore be emphasised. Deere was made a member of the
Distinguished Service Order in June 1943, by which time he was
credited by Fighter Command with a total of twenty-one enemy
aircraft destroyed.
Wing Commander Crawford-Compton's record of service was
also notable. His boyhood was spent at Waiuku, a prosperous
farming district near Auckland, where he showed an early taste for
adventure. Then, the year before the outbreak of war, along with
three other young men, Compton had set sail for England in a
ketch, hoping to join the Royal Air Force on arrival. But the boat
was wrecked on an uncharted reef off the coast of New Guinea
and, after spending twelve hours adrift on a raft constructed from
the wreckage, the crew landed on a small island. There they had
to stay with the natives for six weeks before they got away in a
canoe. Compton continued his journey to England by working as
a ship's carpenter on a tramp steamer. He joined the RAF as a
ground mechanic, then trained as a pilot, and was posted to his
first squadron early in 1941. A few months later he became one of
the founder members of the first New Zealand fighter squadron to
be formed in England, and soon showed himself an outstanding
pilot. By the end of 1942, when he was appointed to command
No. 64 Spitfire Squadron in the Hornchurch Wing, Compton was
credited with the destruction of seven German machines. He had
also won both the Distinguished Flying Cross and bar.
The airfield at Hornchurch, on the outskirts of London and to
the north of the Thames estuary, was now almost as notable a
fighter base as Biggin Hill. In the First World War fighter aircraft
had operated from Hornchurch to defend London against the
German Zeppelin raids. During 1940 Spitfires had flown from the
same field to cover the withdrawal of the British Expeditionary
Force from Dunkirk, and then once again in defence of London
against the German mass attacks during the Battle of Britain.
In the early months of 1943, when the Hornchurch Wing was
frequently engaged in sweeps over northern France and in escorting
bombers to attack airfields and marshalling yards in the same area,
Compton led his No. 64 Squadron on almost every occasion. The
enemy did not always react in strength but there were some spirited
engagements. One such action took place early in March when
Compton was leading his pilots as part of the escort to American
Liberators raiding Rouen. Focke-Wulfs attacked the force soon after
it had crossed the French coast and in vicious attacks shot down two
Liberators and one Spitfire. A running battle then developed which
continued all the way to the target and back to the coast. The Spitfire
pilots, considerably outnumbered, were kept continuously in action,
beating off repeated attacks by groups of fighters but no more
bombers were lost.
Early in the battle Compton sent one Focke-Wulf down after a
head-on attack. Then, with another pilot, he chased three Focke-Wulfs over Rouen and shot one down; but almost immediately the
two Spitfires were attacked by eight German fighters and, after his
companion had been shot down, Compton was pursued all the way
to the French coast.
Of another action in which he was engaged with his squadron
against a formation of Focke-Wulfs over the French coast, Compton
reported:
While leading No. 64 Squadron we were informed by Operations of two
to three enemy aircraft over a ship off Calais. I dived down under a layer of
cloud about 7,000 feet and searched for the enemy aircraft for two to three
minutes. I could not see them so called up to say we would attack the ship.
I had started my dive when I saw seven F.W.190s about two miles away
coming from Cap Gris Nez. I pulled up sharply and managed to get above
and behind without being seen. I fired a very short burst at the No. 4 but
they went into cloud and saw no hits. I was attacked and broke away. One
F.W.190 then closed in on my port and did not see me. I fired a second
burst and saw hits on the fuselage and wing root. I was using armour
piercing incendiary which, when they hit, left a streak of flame about 18”
long. The enemy aircraft began smoking furiously and headed for the coast.
I fired another short burst and saw hits. The enemy aircraft caught fire and
hit the water about 100 yards off shore west of Calais. I broke away and
experienced heavy flak from the shore and the ship …. We came back to
mid-Channel at zero feet and then climbed to cloud height.
In June 1943 Compton was appointed to lead the Hornchurch
Wing which included the Mysore and Natal squadrons. During the
next six months the wing distinguished itself under his leadership
on many occasions and claimed a total of forty-one enemy aircraft,
together with a similar number probably destroyed or damaged.
One of Compton's outstanding pilots at this time was Flying
Officer Hesselyn,
Flight Lieutenant R. B. Hesselyn, MBE, DFC, DFM and bar; born Dunedin, 13 Mar
1920; machinist; joined RNZAFNov 1940; p.w. 3 Oct 1943.
who joined No. 222 Squadron at Hornchurch at
the beginning of July. Hesselyn had already distinguished himself
in operations from Malta, where he had been credited with the
destruction of twelve enemy machines in the heavy air fighting
during the early months of 1942. A further seven German planes
were now to be claimed by this keen young pilot during the four
months he flew with the Hornchurch Wing.
A typical action in which Hesselyn played a prominent part was
fought over Holland in the middle of August 1943. The squadrons
from Hornchurch were escorting, as far as Antwerp, Fortresses
bound for Germany, and they had just left the bombers and begun
their return flight when twelve Messerschmitts were sighted below.
Sweeping down to the attack, the Spitfires destroyed five of them,
without loss. Hesselyn, who sent two down within a few seconds of
each other, afterwards reported briefly:
The Wing dived and the enemy aircraft split up, four flying at 5,000 feet
and 8/9 Me.109Gs climbing to 7/8,000 feet. We had got below the eight
and Blue 1 and I climbed, he attacking the nearest while I went for the
No. 2, attacking from the starboard quarter. I saw strikes, the enemy aircraft
poured smoke, rolled on its back and crashed on the ground eight miles
east of Neuzen. I turned to starboard and saw another Me.109G six hundred
yards ahead. I closed in and fired from dead astern damaging it. A further
burst showed strikes on fuselage and wings, the cockpit cover and some
pieces flew off and the pilot baled out. Finally I saw the tail break off and
the enemy aircraft crashed in the Estuary. Blue 4 witnessed my combat and
the destruction of the two enemy aircraft ….
During his period of leadership of the Hornchurch Wing,
Compton himself was frequently in action. One day towards the
end of June while leading his Spitfires on a sweep over France, he
was directed by control towards twenty to thirty Me109s flying high
over St. Omer. Compton took his pilots into the enemy formation
and in the subsequent fighting they claimed two Messerschmitts
destroyed and another damaged, Compton himself accounting for
one of those destroyed. A few weeks later, after a mission in which
his wing escorted Bostons to bomb Courtrai airfield, Compton
reported a rather unusual incident:
We were at about 11,000 feet over Courtrai when we saw thirty to forty
enemy fighters in mixed formation of Me.109s and FW190s. I led the Mysore
Squadron down to attack, leaving the Natal above, and the Hun dived away.
He seemed in such a hurry that when we were within about six hundred yards
two of his fighters collided and locked together they dived straight into the
ground.
Two other German fighters were shot down by the Hornchurch
Spitfires that day.
Early in September when the wing was escorting American
Marauders to the marshalling yards near Ghent, it was attacked by
about twenty FW190s from out of the sun. Compton turned his
squadrons against the enemy fighters and, despite their initial dis-
advantage, the British pilots were able to claim two of the Focke-Wulfs destroyed and two probably destroyed, for the loss of only
one Spitfire. During the return flight Compton intercepted a Focke-Wulf over Dunkirk and shot it down into the sea with two short
bursts.
A few weeks later while flying as high cover to Marauders in an
attack on the airfield at Beauvais/Tille, Compton's squadrons
claimed three enemy fighters destroyed and seven more damaged,
without loss. The wing had been warned of enemy fighters climbing
to intercept, and as soon as they were sighted diving towards the
bombers Compton led his Spitfires to head them off. This manoeuvre
had the desired effect, but other enemy formations then came in
from ahead and astern. A general dogfight soon developed in which
the total number of enemy aircraft engaged was estimated as between
sixty and seventy. But none of the American bombers was shot
down and German pilots were heard over the radio telephone
bewailing the effectiveness of the British fighter protection.
In September 1943 Compton was made a member of the Distinguished Service Order and, in recognition of his work in protecting
American bomber formations, the United States awarded him their
Silver Star. After a period in the United States, Compton returned
to operations early in 1944 with the Free French Wing, and soon
after the invasion of Normandy he was leading the French pilots
from a base in their own country.
Two more New Zealand pilots who won distinction as leaders at
this time were Wing Commanders Malfroy
Wing Commander C. E. Malfroy, DFC, DFC (US); RAF; born Hokitika, 21 Jan 1909;
Cambridge University Air Squadron, 1931–32; entered RAFAug 1939; commanded
No. 417 Sqdn, 1941; No. 66 Sqdn, 1942; CFI No. 61 OTU, 1942; Training Staff, No. 10
Fighter Group, 1942–43; Wing Leader, Exeter, 1943–44; commanded No. 145 Airfield,
1944; Staff duties, AEAF and SHAEF, 1944; commanded RAF Station, Portreath, 1944,
and RAF Station, Warmwell, 1945.
and Yule.
Wing Commander R. D. Yule, DSO, DFC and bar; born Invercargill, 29 Jan 1920;
Cranwell cadet, 1938–39; permanent commission RAFOct 1939; commanded No. 66
Sqdn, 1942; Wing Leader No. 15 Wing, 1943–44; killed in flying accident, 11 Sep 1953.
Malfroy,
who first flew with the Cambridge University Squadron in 1931, had
been with a Hurricane squadron in the Battle of France, and then
commanded Spitfires in the early sweeps across the Channel. In June
1943 he became Wing Commander Flying at Exeter, from where
he led his pilots on many large-scale missions in support of bombers
attacking targets in France. Yule, who joined the RAF as a cadet
at Cranwell, had also flown Hurricanes during the early campaigns.
He subsequently commanded a Spitfire squadron and served on the
staff of No. 10 Group. Then in August 1943, by which time he had
achieved a fine record of service, Yule was posted to No. 15 Fighter
Wing of Second Tactical Air Force as Wing Leader. During the
next months he led the Spitfire squadrons on frequent patrols over
France, including sweeps and escorts to Mitchells and Marauders
in their bombing raids on marshalling yards, power-stations and
airfields.
New Zealanders also played their part in the various subsidiary
tasks undertaken by Fighter Command. They were particularly
prominent in the fighter reconnaissance field where Group Captain
P. L. Donkin, who had long experience in this work - he had served
with Army Co-operation Command during the early years of the
war – now commanded a Mustang wing and Squadron Leader
Barnett
Squadron Leader M. G. Barnett, DFC; born Wellington, 6 Jun 1918; accountant;
joined RNZAFNov 1939; commanded No. 234 Sqdn, 1943; No. 501 Sqdn, 1943–44,
and No. 274 Sqdn, 1944.
led a Spitfire squadron that specialised in what were known
as ‘Jim Crow’ patrols – reconnaissance flights over the Channel in
search of shipping targets for the fighter and torpedo-bombers. In
February 1944 Donkin was made a member of the Distinguished
Service Order, the citation recording that ‘his careful planning and
outstanding leadership had enabled his squadrons to undertake
sustained offensive and photographic operations with notable
success.’ Donkin was also commended for taking excellent photographs of heavily defended sections of the French coast – a task
which became an increasingly important part of the work of all
fighter reconnaissance pilots as preparations for invasion advanced.
Barnett had begun his career as a fighter pilot with No. 485 New
Zealand Squadron early in 1942 and was shot down while taking
part in a fighter sweep. The story of his evasion of capture and
return to England five months later is an epic of initiative and sheer
determination. After baling out safely near Amiens Barnett made
his way, largely unaided, through France to Bordeaux, only to be
captured and imprisoned at Nice. Undaunted, he made a dramatic
escape from prison to Marseilles, where he received help which
enabled him to make the grim crossing of the Pyrenees and reach
Gibraltar. He returned to England and immediately rejoined his
squadron.
Donkin had a remarkable experience of an entirely different kind
early in 1944. He was flying a low-level reconnaissance over the
Belgian coast when his machine was hit by flak. Unable to make
base he baled out, dropped into the sea, and climbed into his dinghy.
He found himself uncomfortably close to the enemy coast so paddled
vigorously in order to put as much distance as possible between
himself and the shore. On the second day his efforts nearly ended
in disaster when he overbalanced and fell into the sea. Water soon
became a problem and thirst drove him to catch a seagull and drink
its blood. Fortunately on the third day it rained and he was able to
gather sufficient water to keep alive. Searching aircraft passed overhead but failed to see the tiny dinghy in the wide expanse of sea,
and it was not until Donkin had been drifting for six days that he
was finally seen and picked up by a searching rescue launch. ‘Not
the least of my trials during the long hours in the dinghy,’ says
Donkin, ‘was the habit of Marauders testing their guns while going
out on sorties. Bullets often peppered around too near to be healthy.’
Raids on enemy ships in the Channel and the Straits of Dover
were now becoming an important part of Fighter Command's work
and Squadron Leaders Pheloung
Squadron Leader T. H. V. Pheloung; born Oamaru, 31 Aug 1914; joined RAF1937;
commanded No. 56 Sqdn, 1943; killed on air operations, 20 Jun 1943.
and Kilian
Squadron Leader J. R. C. Kilian, Croix de Guerre (Fr.); born 23 Jun 1911; joined
RNZAF1937; commanded No. 122 Sqdn, 1942, and No. 504 Sqdn, 1943.
both led RAF squadrons engaged on such duties. Pheloung's Typhoons were stationed
in Norfolk and usually operated over Dutch coastal waters, while
Kilian's Spitfires flew patrols over the Channel from an airfield in
Hampshire. Both squadrons reported many successful missions.
In these attacks on enemy shipping, the Typhoon fighter-bombers
were frequently supported by long-range Spitfires which took the
anti-flak role, sweeping in ahead to silence the German gunners.
Such co-ordinated assault proved extremely effective although determined enemy gunners often gave the first aircraft a hot reception.
While leading a June attack on a convoy off the Hook of Holland
Pheloung lost his life. His machine was hit by fire from the ships,
and during the return flight it was suddenly seen to make a sharp
diving turn and then go straight down into the sea.
One Spitfire pilot gives this impression of an attack on the port of
Cherbourg:
As we flew in I saw a grey mass rolling in the mist, a squat funnel, raised
platforms and a mast bristling with radar aerials – then rapid staccato flashes
all along the superstructure. I released the safety catch, lowered my head and
nestled down to be protected by my armour plating. Clusters of green and
red tracer bullets started up in every direction. I went slap through some
spray, which blurred my wind shield. I was fifty yards from the flak ship.
The pilot in front of me was firing. I could see the flashes from his guns and
the empties cascading from his wings.
I aimed at the bridge between the damaged funnel and the mast and fired
a long furious continuous burst, with finger hard on the button. My shells
exploded in the water, rose towards the water line, exploded on the grey
black striped hull, rose higher to the hand rails, the sand bags. A wind-
scoopwindscoop crashed down, a jet of steam spurted from somewhere. Twenty yards –
two men in navy blue jerseys hurled themselves flat – ten yards – the four
barrels of a multiple pom-pom seemed to be pointing straight between my
eyes – my shells exploded all around it, then the four barrels fired, and I
could feel the vibration as I passed a few yards above. Then the smack of the
steel wire of the aerial wrenched off by my wing as I passed. My limbs were
shaken by a terrible nervous tremor and my teeth were chattering. I zigzagged
between the spouts raised by the shells. Half a dozen belated Typhoons
passed to my right, bearing down beyond the long granite wall of the break-
water. I skimmed over a fort – a curious mixture of crenelated towers and
modern concrete casements – whose very walls seemed to be belching fire.
Then I was in the middle of the roadstead – an inextricable jumble of
trawler masts and rusty wrecks sticking out between the battered quays.
The air was crisscrossed with tracer, lit up by flashes and dotted with black
and white puffs of smoke.
One big ship was surrounded by explosions, flames and debris. He fore-
mastsforemasts bristling with derricks and her squat funnel well aft emerged from
the smoke. The Typhoon attack was in full swing, bombs exploding all the
time, with bursts of fire and black clouds of smoke continuing as they drifted
away. A Typhoon vanished into thin air in the explosion of a bomb dropped
by one in front. As I flew away one of the harbour cranes came crashing
down like a house of cards ….
* * * * *
The part played by the two New Zealand day-fighter squadrons –
No. 485 Spitfires and No. 486 Typhoons – must now be recorded.
For both units this was an eventful year, and the account which
follows may well serve to illustrate the experiences of many other
squadrons with which New Zealand fighter pilots served.
No. 485, now regarded as one of the foremost units of No. 11
Fighter Group, operated first from a forward base in Sussex and
then from Biggin Hill in the wing led by Deere; the New Zealand
Spitfires were particularly prominent in bomber support operations
but many other missions were flown, including sweeps over northern
France, the protection of British convoys, defensive patrols against
coastal raiders, and the escort of air-sea rescue machines. Altogether
a total of 2634 sorties was made by No. 485 Squadron during the
year, in which twenty-seven German machines were claimed for the
loss of nineteen pilots.
At the beginning of January the New Zealanders, under the
command of Squadron Leader Grant,
Wing Commander R. J. C. Grant, DFC and bar, DFM; born Woodville, 3 Jun 1914;
metal spinner; joined RNZAFNov 1939; commanded No. 485 (NZ) Sqdn, 1942–43;
No. 65 Sqdn, 1943–44; No. 122 Wing, 1944; killed on air operations, 28 Feb 1944.
were established at West
Hampnett in the famous Tangmere sector of No. 11 Fighter Group.
Tangmere was at this time commanded by Group Captain
McGregor,
Air Vice-Marshal H. D. McGregor, CBE, DSO, Legion of Merit (US); RAF; born
Wairoa, 15 Feb 1910; joined RAF1928; permanent commission 1932; commanded
Nos. 33 and 213 Sqdns, 1939–40; RAF Station, Ballyhalbert, 1941; RAF Station, Tangmere, 1942–43; Group Captain, Operations, Mediterranean Air Command, 1943–44;
Allied Deputy Director of Operations, Intell. Plans, N. Africa and Italy, 1944; AOC
Levant, 1945–46; Planning Staff, North Atlantic Treaty Organisation, Washington,
1949–50; AOC No. 2 Group BAFO, 1951–53.
a New Zealand pilot with fifteen years' service in the
Royal Air Force, who after a notable career in Fighter Command
was to win further distinction in the Middle East where he served
on the staff of Air Marshal Tedder,
Marshal of the Royal Air Force The Lord Tedder of Glenguin, GCB, Legion of Merit
(US), Legion of Honour (Fr.), Order of Kutusov (USSR), Distinguished Service Medal
(US), Order of the Crown with Palm (Bel.), Order of George I (Gr.), Croix de Guerre
with Palm (Fr.), Order of Orange Nassau (Hol.); born Glenguin, Stirling, 11 Jul 1890;
served Colonial Service, Fiji, 1914; joined RFC 1916; permanent commission RAF1919; Deputy Air Member Development and Production, 1940; Deputy AOC-in-C
HQ Middle East, 1940–41; AOC-in-C HQ Middle East, 1941–43; Air C-in-C, Deputy
to General Eisenhower, 1944; Deputy Supreme Allied Commander, SHAEF Main
(Air), 1944–45; CAS RAF, 1946–49; Chairman Joint British Services Mission, Washington, and British Representative on Standing Group, Military Committee NATO, 1950–51.
and then as Air Officer
Commanding, Levant.
In their first patrols from Tangmere the New Zealanders saw
little action, but early in February there was a lively engagement
with German fighters over Abbeville. Shortly after crossing the
French coast the Spitfires were directed by their ground control
towards a formation of some fifteen FW190s which they soon
sighted and attacked. But while they were engaged with this force a
further twenty Focke-Wulfs suddenly swept down out of the sun,
and in the hard fighting that followed three New Zealand Spitfires
were shot down. In the midst of the battle Squadron Leader Grant,
who was leading No. 485 that day, had the distressing experience
of seeing his younger brother
Flying Officer I. A. C. Grant; born Woodville, 21 Nov 1915; sheet-metal worker; joined
RNZAFNov 1939; killed on air operations, 13 Feb 1943.
shot down before he could intervene
to save him. He did, however, succeed in destroying the German
fighter which made the attack. Another Focke-Wulf was shot down
by Flying Officer Hume.
Squadron Leader M. R. D. Hume, DFC; born Martinborough, 27 Oct 1915; farmer;
joined RNZAFDec 1940; commanded No. 485 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943–44.
Towards the end of March Squadron Leader Baker,
Wing Commander R. W. Baker, DFC; born Dunedin, 2 Mar 1915; analytical chemist;
joined RNZAFJul 1940; commanded No. 485 Sqdn, 1943; Planning Staff, No. 11
Group, 1944; commanded No. 487 Sqdn, 1945; killed on air operations, 22 Feb 1945.
who had
been with No. 485 from its formation, took over command of the
unit from Grant, who had now completed over 150 sorties and was
credited with the destruction of eight German aircraft. Grant was
posted to Canada for a short period and then returned to England
as leader of a Mustang wing. A few months later he was killed
while setting off on a mission across the Channel. It is recorded that,
shortly after the take-off, Grant's engine cut out in cloud. He
ordered the wing to carry on while he turned back in an effort to
make base. He broke cloud at about 1000 feet and it is surmised
that oil covered his hood and goggles, for he used his parachute
which opened just as he struck the ground.
Led by Baker, the New Zealand Spitfires continued to fly as part
of the Tangmere Wing escorting bombers to their targets. In
addition, many coastal patrols were flown to protect convoys and
the south coast towns from sneak raiders, particularly during March
when poor weather grounded aircraft at other stations. Occasionally,
weather reconnaissances were also flown across the Channel, while
other sorties were devoted to air-sea rescue searches.
When bomber formations were escorted over northern France
there were frequent skirmishes with enemy fighters. One sharp
encounter occurred towards the end of April. That day No. 485
Squadron was part of a large escort to Venturas bombing the
Abbeville marshalling yards. As the Spitfires and Venturas swung
round over Abbeville some forty Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts
began a series of head-on attacks. Dogfights were soon taking place
all over the sky, and by the time they reached the coast the escorting
squadrons had claimed three German fighters for the loss of two
Spitfires.
Sergeant Meagher
Flight Lieutenant G. H. Meagher; born Reefton, 15 Feb 1915; carrier; joined RNZAFNov 1941; p.w. 6 Sep 1944.
was one of the successful pilots. He was flying
close to the Ventura formation when:
…. two Me. 109s came in from 4 o'clock and one fired at a Ventura setting
its engine afire. It then climbed up in front of me in order to make another
attack on the bomber. I attacked it from 45° astern with one short burst from
50–60 yards range. It hung in the air for a moment and then dived straight
down and I saw it hit the sea about three miles west of Cayeux. No-one
baled out and by its straight dive it appears that I hit the pilot ….
Another pilot told how during the battle he saw the Focke-Wulf
hit the ground at appalling speed while still on its back. Then it
slid along scattering fragments everywhere and leaving a trail of
blazing fuel, hurtled through two hedges, and finally crashed against
a road bank in a shower of sparks.
At the end of June No. 485 Squadron, re-equipped with Spitfire
IXs, moved to Biggin Hill and there began one of the most active
and interesting periods of its career. Biggin Hill, with its comforts
and status of the world's premier fighter base, had an atmosphere
of friendliness and jauntiness and of living with little thought for
the morrow. There was also inspiring leadership, for Group Captain
Malan still commanded the base and Wing Commander Deere led
the fighter wing. In addition, the squadron was fortunate in having
Squadron Leader Checketts
Wing Commander J. M. Checketts, DSO, DFC; born Invercargill, 20 Feb 1912; motor
mechanic; joined RNZAFOct 1940; commanded No. 485 Sqdn, 1943, and No. 1 Sqdn
1944; Wing Leader, Horne, Westhampnett and Manston, 1944; Wing Commander,
Tactics, Central Flying Establishment, 1945.
appointed to command at this time.
Checketts, who began his career as a fighter pilot at the unusually
late age of thirty, had already won distinction as flight commander
with No. 611 West Lancashire Squadron at Biggin Hill. He was
described by one senior officer as ‘a reliable leader and skilful pilot
who was as keen a fighter as he was modest in his claims.’ Checketts
was in action a few days before taking over the New Zealand
squadron. He was leading his Spitfires on a sweep with the Biggin
Hill Wing in support of Typhoons bombing the power-station at
Caen and it was over this target that the fighting began.
‘We saw numerous enemy aircraft,’ Checketts afterwards reported, ‘includ-
ing Focke-Wulf 190s and Messerschmitt 109s. Our squadron leader warned
us and we broke into two sections as the top squadron (Free French) was
attacked, and flew inland and up sun. Two Focke-Wulf 190s attacked Blue 4
and myself but we outclimbed them and they lost sight of us. Then they
manoeuvred to attack Blue 1 and 2. I warned Blue 1 and he flew in front
of me whereupon I attacked the Focke-Wulf 190 from behind and below with
a great overtaking speed. I opened fire from 200 yards, and saw heavy strikes
on fuselage and wings. The enemy aircraft appeared to stop, and shed cowlings and pieces, and smoke in dense clouds. I broke upwards and saw him
spin down ….’
Throughout July the New Zealand squadron operated almost
daily from Biggin Hill. On some days several missions would be
flown, usually as cover for British bombers in their attacks on airfields and industrial targets in northern France and Belgium or as
escort to American Fortresses bombing targets in France, Holland
and Germany. Seven enemy aircraft were claimed destroyed during
the month, together with two probably destroyed and five damaged,
for the loss of only one pilot. On most occasions Deere led the wing,
but sometimes Checketts or Commandant Mouchotte, commander of
the Free French squadron now based at Biggin Hill, filled this role.
The New Zealanders were particularly pleased with the performance of their new Spitfire IXs. More than ever it seemed that in
flight pilot and machine became an integral whole like a rider and
his well-trained steed. ‘They stood up to the hard work valiantly, and
the engines gave of their utmost,’ writes one experienced pilot. ‘We
had frequent occasion to bless Rolls-Royce and all the engineers and
mechanics who had drawn, constructed and assembled this amazing
precision instrument.’
A fairly typical day at Biggin Hill during the summer of 1943 is
thus depicted by the New Zealand squadron commander:
We had been wakened at 0500 hours, and though I had stolen an extra
forty winks, I felt really contented as I walked from the mess to hear ‘Al's’
briefing at 0600 hours.
The early morning sun gives promise of a sweltering day, and the ground
mists are dispersing leaving the hawthorne and blackberries smelling fresh
and clean. Even the sombre buildings look fresh – it is grand to be alive.
The ‘show’ looks interesting and we expect some fights. Al decides not to
fly with my squadron and as we go to dispersal he gives me a few final
instructions. The Spitfires look sleek and pretty and my pilots were all happy
and contented. I had had mail from home yesterday so had every reason to
be pleased with life. As the pilots changed into flying kit I watched them
and marvelled at their laughter, jokes and perfect fellowship. I only hoped
I could always be in such grand company.
As we were strapping in, Al gave me a cheery grin and we waited for him
to start up. I get a little tense at this time, because the minutes drag so
slowly. At last his Spitfire starts and I start mine as all the others stir to life.
I have a lovely aircraft and the huge engine splutters to life as Al taxies out
for take off. I wait until his pilots form up on him and my boys taxi out
behind me and form up on me in one long line abreast. As Al takes his aircraft off I glance over my pilots and take a last look at dispersal. Doc., Spy
and Adj. are there waving, as well as our ground crews. I wave my hand as
a signal to start and open my throttle. The long line of Spitfires slowly
gather way, faster and faster until they become airborne. Wheels tuck away
like birds and the aircraft take formation positions. I can see Al about three
miles ahead and take up position behind and down sun as we slowly climb
over the beautiful Kentish countryside. I look round at my squadron and
then check my gunsight, gun safety catches, oxygen, wireless and petrol.
England is away below and looks so fresh and green. I can see the channel
from Ostend to Le Havre very blue and calm.
The bombers loom up in the distance like a swarm of bees and as they
approach we take position and set course towards France, leaving England's
white cliffs behind us. I open the boys to battle formation and search up sun
for Huns. Controller reports Huns away to south-east and the formation
looks in that direction as we drone on our way. Al's voice calls a turn to
starboard and we approach our target unmolested. The bombers drop their
eggs slap on the target and the huge bursts throw up immense clouds of dust
and smoke – I'm glad I'm not there. Up comes the flak at us now, as well
as at the bombers, and I hastily clamber for altitude because some bursts are
pretty near. Al calls another turn, and so far no Hun aircraft has come near
us though many are reported inland. The flak and target fall behind and we
approach the French coast on the way home. Jerry seems to be crazy this
morning because the flak is all round the bombers and the ominous black
blobs speck the sky behind and to one side of us. As we cross out, Al's
radio comes in and his voice asks if we are all alright. I answer that we are
O.K. and we carry on.
England is awake now – I can see the smoke before we cross over her
white coasts. We leave the bombers over the friendly coast and dive swiftly
towards home and another breakfast. I hear Al break his squadron into
sections for landing and watch the fours landing with swift efficiency. I break
my boys and lead my four down, lower our wheels, open hoods, lower flaps
and sweep in on to a lovely smooth aerodrome. I watch my other sections
come in like graceful birds, as I taxi in.
As I clamber out my ground crew rush up and help me and say, ‘No luck,
Sir?’. They always look at our gun patches and can tell whether we fire or
not before we finish taxying in. I grin and say, ‘Not today boys.’ Al looks
over the bay from his machine and hurries me up for a late breakfast. I grab
my shoes, tie and dog and clamber into his car.
We laze in the mid-morning sun discussing the show and chattering away
like children. Some of the pilots sleep, some just sit and generally take life
easily. I inspect my tomatoes and chase my dog away from the precious plants,
much to the amusement of the boys, because ‘Winkle’ won't wander far from
me at any rate.
We are expecting another ‘show’ and Al calls us up for briefing at noon.
This is to be a good one we hope. Al and Spy are still busy when I look in
at 11.30 hours and so I keep out of their way and try to get the ‘gen’ on
where we are going. Sailor comes in and we chat about aircraft, the morning's
show and shotguns. He is a very fine fighter pilot and a jolly fine friend.
Everyone files in and Al starts his briefing. He is very thorough and explains
what he wants done and finally decides he is going to fly with my squadron.
The pilots' voices murmur and finally break out into hopes that Jerry will
come and fight. I like watching their expressions during briefings; some are
sombre, some are keen, some express nothing, but I know that they are all
keyed up and really anxious to get to grips with the Hun. They are all good
boys and I think an awful lot of them. We have been briefed early so that
we can have lunch without having to hurry.
The boys all go to the bar and have a beer before lunch. I am very dry
and like to take my drink out on to the lawn and gaze across the valley into
the soft green woods on the other side, with the nice white house in its very
tidy grounds. The weather is too hot for lunch, but I have a little and go off
to dispersal. We still have 15 minutes and the pilots are not all here yet.
The radio-gram plays some new records and everything is peaceful. As the
pilots come along we start to change into flying gear; Al arrives and everything is now very busy. Ground crews rushing here and there, pilots looking
for gear and studying maps, phones buzzing and innumerable last minute
questions and hustle. There are some disappointed faces too; pilots cannot
go on every show and the boys hate to miss one.
Al and I sit in the sun as the pilots go to their machines and we finally
have to stir. I am leading one of the sections and Al is leading the squadron.
The old tense minute arrives, how I hate it too. I check and recheck my
cockpit instruments and controls, but Al's motor bursts into life and I come
back to earth with a start. As we taxi out I see the heatwaves from the
ground rising like fire; the old Spits are very warm and we are really hot
until we get airborne. The squadron forms on Al and off we go. Wheels
tuck away and we meet the bombers and evade the coastal flak and approach
the target. There is not much flak and I'm not certain where Jerry is. He is
being reported near us to the south-east and south-west but we have not
made contact. I'm disappointed but the bombs make a nice big mess on a
Hun target. It's awfully hot and I'm glad when Al calls his turn. I have a
look at my No. 2 and he is busy looking above and behind. I nearly look
there too but check myself and look elsewhere - it is no good wasting a pair
of eyes. In spite of our keenness we see no Huns and dodge the flak on our
way over the coast and land at base after an uneventful show. The pilots
cluster around Al and discuss the sweep and chatter away as they usually do,
discussing tactics and all the things that happen on such a mission.
We don't think there is going to be another sweep today and the boys
settle down to station duties and their non-flying tasks, or just read and write
in the sun. I have a little office work to do and when I've finished we have
a clay bird shoot and lay small wagers on our own skill at this fascinating
training. At 1600 hours the pilots start to go up to the mess for tea and we
have a nice hot cup and lie on the grass or go swimming. I think I shall
change and go out this evening, so after a shower I don uniform but am
informed of another sweep – we are to be briefed immediately. The pilots
rush off to briefing but we don't expect to see anything on this sweep. Al
is not flying with my squadron this time. Take off is 1800 hours and Al and
I yarn about tactics on the way to dispersal. The boys are all there changing
and the usual pre-sweep bustle is noticeable. I think it is a shame to fight on
such a beautiful day and wonder what Jerry thinks about it. Winkle is very
hot and just pants in the shade; he is very keen to retrieve a stick though
and I think of home and the happy days I had duck shooting in the estuary,
and of my friends who are now on all the English battlefronts.
We are assisted into the Spits and Al starts up. I feel the heat very much
and my Spit, is hot to touch; she is a perfect machine though and I've had
some good fights in her. These aircraft are beautiful and sleek; I love flying
them and playing in the cloud valleys and tail chasing with my boys. The
slipstream rushes the cool air into my cockpit as I taxi out after Al and watch
his pilots form up on him and take off. My pilots form on me. I watched
them take off one day when Sailor would not let me fly and they looked
beautiful tearing down the aerodrome in formation and tucking their wheels
away, almost like birds. I open my throttle and the Spits, gather way slowly
then terribly fast and at last leave the ground. Al is a bit further away than
I expected and we close to position just as we meet the bombers. One big
circuit and we cross the coast over the blue water. The sun is strong and at
22,000 feet the bright sky is hard to look into. As we cross the French coast
Huns are reported east, south, and west of us but as yet we don't see them.
Al has called a turn to port 30 degrees as we approach the target and the
Huns are still nowhere near us. The bombers drone on very steadily and look
like big moths, only very sinister. We sweep slightly south of them and I
watch their bombs burst on the target with a terrific upheaval. I carry on on
my present course and call my turn to the pilots. We turn 120 degrees to
port. The Huns should be in sight soon. Those specks over to port look
suspicious and I finally identify 14 F.W. 190s approaching slightly below
and above two miles away. I swing to attack and call Al on my radio that
I've made contact and am attacking. My Spitfire is tearing along and I can
see Jerry trying to get at the bombers. Suddenly we are among them, black
crosses and sinister aircraft dart everywhere. I get on the tail of one and my
sight picks him out. A two second squirt, the cannon vibrate my aircraft and
cowlings, smoke and flame gush from the unfortunate Hun; anyway the only
good Hun is a dead one. His leader rolls over and goes vertically down and I
chase after him, closing the range slightly because of my superior speed; we
tear down at a terrific speed and every time I fire my Spitfire judders to
cannon recoil. At last I hit him on the starboard wing and close the range to
200 yards as he levels out at ground level. This Hun heads for the south
taking my No. 2 and myself inland as fast as he can go. On my next squirt
a cannon stops and I close the range to 100 yards and let him have machine
gun only. I can see my bullets striking but he won't go down. At last a thin
white trail of smoke, gradually turning black. I have to leave him because we
are too far inland. We break to port and set course for England at ground
level. The French peasants wave to us and I find I am wet with perspiration
but the fascination of flying over enemy territory at zero feet, seeing people,
towns, harvesting and the thrill I got out of one Hun destroyed and another
probably destroyed make my wet clothing seem as nothing.
We maintain full speed and I look about for more Spitfires but there is
only my No. 2 and myself so we fly back towards the coast and home.
* * * * *
During its first two months at Biggin Hill, No. 485 Squadron
was credited with the destruction of more enemy machines than any
other unit in No. 11 Fighter Group. There were many notable
episodes. One afternoon towards the end of July the Biggin Hill
Wing took off on its second mission of the day to act as high cover
for eighteen Marauders whose target was the airfield at Tricqueville,
some 30 miles south-west of Rouen. Altogether nine squadrons of
Spitfires supplied escort and support, while four more squadrons
flew a diversionary sweep over northern France. The New Zealanders
for their part reached the target without incident, but shortly after
turning for home they were ordered to ward off an attempted interception of the bombers by some fifteen Focke-Wulf 190s. A running
battle followed at over 20,000 feet. It lasted for eight minutes, and
when the New Zealanders landed back at Biggin Hill they were able
to report four German fighters destroyed and another damaged, without loss to themselves. The successful pilots were Squadron Leader
Checketts, two destroyed and one damaged, Flight Sergeant Strahan,
Flying Officer W. T. H. Strahan; born Christchurch, 2 Feb 1919; insurance agent;
joined RNZAFMar 1941.
one destroyed, and Flying Officer Rae
Flight Lieutenant J. D. Rae, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 15 Jan 1919; clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1940; p.w. 22 Aug 1943.
who, with Pilot Officer
Tucker,
Flying Officer H. S. Tucker; born Greytown, 26 Aug 1921; postman; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
shared another.
Checketts related his first combat briefly:
Was leading No. 485 Squadron when I saw a bunch of F.W. 190s behind us,
at the same level and down sun manoeuvring to attack us from above and up
sun. I let them nearly get in range and then broke the Wing to starboard.
Fired on one Focke-Wulf and saw it shed cowlings, flop on its back and then
go down in flames.
In the ensuing mêlée Checketts became separated from his section,
but near the French coast he sighted three Focke-Wulfs flying below
him. He dived and opened fire. What happened in the next few
seconds is best described in his own words:
They were at about 25,000 feet. I attacked the rear one from about 300 yards
astern and saw strikes on the port wing. I then closed on the No. 2 but he
saw me and went down so I closed on the No. 1 and hit him just as he
rolled over. Saw numerous strikes, followed him down and gave another
squirt. He then went down steeply with flames streaming from the fuselage
and cockpit.
Flying Officer Rae described his experiences during the same
battle thus:
…. At approximately 20,000 feet several enemy aircraft approached from
6 o'clock slightly above. As a squadron we climbed into them. After
manoeuvring for position, I picked out four menacing F.W. 190s above and
climbed after them. One after another flicked away downwards attempting
to lure us, obviously under instructions from their leader. I continued to
climb up, however, and the F.W. 190 leading found himself alone and then,
realizing his predicament nosed over and dived vertically down. I gave chase
with Pilot Officer Tucker (my No. 2) still right with me. A long chase
resulted with extensive low flying. The F.W. 190 tried every trick he knew
from flying under high tension cables to going round church steeples but
could not shake us off. My cannons both had stoppages and, although I
observed strikes with the machine guns and slight smoking I decided that
Tucker, who had stayed with me magnificently, could finish him off. So I
flew formation with the F.W. 190 and had the pleasure of watching Tucker
blast him into the ground with a short burst ….
A few days later the New Zealanders were covering United States
Marauders during their return flight from France when Checketts
saw a formation of German fighters coming in to attack the bombers.
He led his squadron down to intercept but the enemy pilots saw the
Spitfires approaching and dived away inland. A stern chase followed,
during which Checketts destroyed a Messerschmitt and Flying
Officer Gibbs
Flight Lieutenant B. E. Gibbs; born Utiku, Wellington, 11 Apr 1920; sawmill tally
clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1940.
damaged a Focke-Wulf.
‘I finally caught and hit him at 5,000 feet then he dived towards the
ground,’ Checketts afterwards reported. ‘I broke away upwards and saw no
other enemy aircraft so went down after him again. I got on his tail and
opened fire …. I saw my cannon strikes hit the field ahead and below so
lifted my nose and hit him full in the cockpit. The enemy aircraft hit the
tops of some apple trees, caught fire and fell in the orchard, and finally
skidded into a barn which it carried along for about 75 to 100 yards. The
barn collapsed on the aircraft and the whole lot blazed furiously. I went
back and took a cine film of the fire ….’
On the afternoon of 9 August the New Zealanders had a field day,
claiming six enemy machines destroyed in a remarkable action which
lasted barely a minute. Led by Deere, the Biggin Hill Wing had
taken off on its second mission of the day to give close escort to
thirty-six Marauders in their attack on St. Omer airfield. The bombers
were flying in two formations and, shortly after crossing the French
coast, these became widely separated. To give them added protection
Deere ordered Checketts to escort one of the bomber formations
with No. 485 Squadron while he took No. 341 French Squadron to
cover the other.
Over Lille Checketts sighted what appeared to be four enemy
fighters at about 5000 feet, so he led a section which included Rae,
Gibbs, and Tucker down to attack them. But instead of four enemy
machines there were no fewer than eight Me109s flying abreast,
with one lagging slightly behind the others. Checketts, who was first
in line of the diving Spitfires, opened up on the laggard Messerschmitt at 200 yards. He hit it squarely and saw it blow up. The
remaining Germans, apparently unaware of their danger, had now
veered slightly to port, which enabled Checketts to maintain his
position. He opened fire on the Messerschmitt flying on the extreme
starboard. It also blew up and Checketts had trouble in avoiding the
debris. Indeed for a moment or two the remainder of his section
could not see him as he flew through the smoke and pieces. Checketts
then closed on a third machine and after a short burst saw it go down
in flames. Meanwhile the other men had selected their targets. Rae
opened fire on one Messerschmitt which blew up in a sheet of white
flame. Gibbs also saw his target explode. Tucker watched the engine
cowlings rip away from the Messerschmitt at which he fired and
then saw black smoke begin streaming from it – smoke that soon
turned to flames. Of the remaining two Messerschmitts, one escaped
but the other was caught and hit by Checketts. He saw pieces of the
fuselage break away. As the Spitfires turned for home the pilots saw
four fires burning on the ground and streaks of black smoke in the
sky with small pieces of debris fluttering earthwards – the aftermath
of a most successful encounter.
* * * * *
‘Ramrod’ operations, as the escorted daylight bombing raids were
known, were now being launched on an increasingly large scale. A
single Ramrod would often involve various subsidiary and feint
attacks for which the fighters would provide protection in addition
to the advance and withdrawal cover and close escort for the main
bomber force. To outwit the German fighter control and secure the
maximum tactical advantage, each of these missions had to be
accurately timed and the whole operation most carefully planned.
The growing weight and complexity of the Allied offensive by
day is well illustrated by the series of missions flown by fighters and
bombers on 17 August 1943. That day large forces of American
Fortress bombers made a deep penetration into Germany to attack
the ball-bearing plants at Regensburg and Schweinfurt. The bombers
were escorted as far as Antwerp by RAF Spitfires and United States
Thunderbolts and then, on their return flight, they were met again
near Antwerp and escorted back to England. To divert German
fighters from this main assault, simultaneous raids were launched
against six marshalling yards and airfields in the Low Countries by
RAF medium bombers, with strong fighter support. Altogether 1053
aircraft were employed on the whole operation,
They included 376 Fortresses, 268 Thunderbolts, 257 Spitfires, 104 Typhoons, 36
Marauders and 12 Mitchells.
and this massive
scale of attack naturally drew strong reaction from the enemy.
Owing to the wide range of targets chosen the German fighter
control, uncertain at first as to which was the main thrust, was
unable to concentrate its force. Yet some bitter fighting occurred
and in the main bombing raid on Germany thirty-six Fortresses were
shot down – most of them during the time when they were without
fighter escort. Fighter Command claimed fourteen German fighters
destroyed for the loss of only four pilots, while United States fighter
squadrons reported nineteen enemy aircraft destroyed for the loss
of three pilots.
The New Zealand Spitfire squadron's role on this occasion was
to fly with the Biggin Hill Wing as high cover to Marauders in one
of the diversionary raids. There were thirty-six Marauders in the
bomber force and their target was the airfield at Bryss/Sud, near
Arras. Led by Wing Commander Deere the Biggin Hill Spitfires
met the bombers over Dungeness at 12,000 feet. Also at this
rendezvous point were the close escort and escort cover wings, and
a fourth wing flew ahead to clear the air over the target.
As usually happened the flight over the Channel was uneventful,
but soon after crossing the French coast the Biggin Hill squadrons
were attacked by some twenty-five Messerschmitts. A sharp battle
ensued in which the Spitfires claimed three of the German fighters
for the loss of one pilot. Flying Officer Rae scored a double success.
After chasing one Messerschmitt some distance inland he turned
back and soon saw other fighters above him. He was climbing to a
favourable position for attack when suddenly two of the Messerschmitts dived on some circling Spitfires below. Together with
another pilot, Rae turned and followed them down.
We met them head-on and I had a short burst at very close range and as one
Hun shot underneath me, I saw strikes along the top of his fuselage. Then,
after just avoiding a collision with another Messerschmitt, I turned to see
the one I had attacked dive down with flames streaming from it. Then
attacked the other German machine and after many violent manoeuvres and
short bursts, I finally closed to within approximately 75 yards and opened
fire again. The tail unit appeared to come to pieces and large flashes could
be seen in the fuselage. I climbed away and watched the German machine
skidding sideways through the air and burning until he finally crashed behind
some woods.
No. 485 Squadron was again in action two days later, while
flying as high cover in a bombing attack on an airfield near Amiens.
About 15 miles west of the target the New Zealanders were ‘jumped’
by fifteen to twenty Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts, and a running
fight ensued in which Checketts, Hume, Tucker, and Flying Officer
Sutherland
Flight Lieutenant M. G. Sutherland; born North Spit, Otago Heads, 10 May 1919;
Harbour Board employee; joined RNZAFJun 1941; p.w. 22 Aug 1943.
were among those hotly engaged. Hume reported a
definite kill. In the midst of the battle he noticed a single Messerschmitt about to dive on a group of Spitfires, and he turned swiftly
to attack it. The pilot did not see him approach and Hume was able
to fly up close behind and fire an accurate burst. A few seconds later
the enemy machine blew up in mid-air.
The destruction of a Focke-Wulf in even more unusual circumstances was reported by Pilot Officer Houlton
Flight Lieutenant J. A. Houlton, DFC; born Christchurch, 23 Sep 1922; civil servant;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
the following week.
He drove the German fighter in a wild dive right down to ground
level and then, after a lengthy steeplechase round woods and over
an airfield, saw the enemy machine make a sudden turn, hit some
overhead cables, and go down to explode in a mass of flames as it
struck the ground. On this occasion Biggin Hill Spitfires were
covering Fortresses attacking a target near St. Omer and had become
involved with a large formation of Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts,
estimated as between fifty and sixty machines. The British pilots
claimed three destroyed and others damaged without loss.
Altogether the New Zealand squadron enjoyed a remarkable run
of successes during its missions from Biggin Hill, but there were
inevitably certain unlucky days. The 22nd August, for example, was
particularly unfortunate. That day the squadron lost four pilots
while covering a bombing raid on the airfield at Beaumont-le-Roger.
Half-way between the French coast and the target the Biggin Hill
Wing was attacked head-on by forty to fifty FW190s. Soon a further
fifteen to twenty German fighters joined in, and bitter fighting
developed in which the two Biggin Hill squadrons – No. 485 New
Zealand and No. 341 French – became split up.
‘Spitfires and Focke-Wulfs swirled all around,’ writes one pilot. ‘There
were shouts for help, a few highly-seasoned Parisian oaths and the New
Zealanders yelling like demons. In a few seconds our impeccable formation
had been scattered and in its place there was a mad jumble of enormous
radial engines, of short sleek wings edged with lightning and black crosses
all over the place. Tracer-bullets whizzed in every direction. I attacked a
Focke-Wulf from three-quarters rear. A shell exploded in his cockpit. The
perspex hood flew off and passed within a few feet of my machine. I twisted
and turned. Parachutes had now begun to blossom on every side. Vertical
trails of heavy black smoke hung in the air without dissipating. They marked
the final trajectory of aircraft whose debris now lay scattered and blazing in
the meadows 20,000 feet below. All the way to the coast the fighting went
on. Then the Focke-Wulfs, short of ammunition and with tanks running
dry, did not insist. They dived down and disappeared in the rising mist.’
When No. 485 eventually returned to base it was found that Flying
Officers Rae and Sutherland and Flight Sergeants Clark
Pilot Officer F. D. Clark; born Wanganui, 30 Jun 1922; clerical cadet; joined RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 22 Aug 1943.
and White
Flight Lieutenant L. S. McQ. White, DFC; born Gore, 24 May 1917; farmer; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
were missing. However, Rae and White had landed safely. They
evaded capture and subsequently got back to England, when it was
learnt that Rae's motor had cut and forced him down in enemy
territory, and that White had shot down a Focke-Wulf before being
compelled to land in France. White related his experience thus:
When half way from the French coast to the target the Wing was attacked.
I was flying Green 3 and was attacked from all directions by three or four
F.W.190s, and my aircraft was hit in the glycol tank. I rolled and headed
back towards the sea but finding my radio telephone dead, I headed back
inland and was intercepted by eight F.W.190s, four of which immediately
went on to another Spitfire which seemed to be in the same predicament
as me. I went down from 12,000 feet to the deck with the four F.W.190s
behind me. A few moments later saw one of them on the deck by itself so
dived and attacked it from 150 yards. Glycol streaming from my engine
caused the windshield to mist up. I looked out of the side and saw tree tops
above me, so I pulled up and then saw the F.W.190 on the ground, crash-
landed. After a few more manoeuvres I had a head-on with another F.W.
190 but my guns would not fire. My engine then stopped so I force landed
near Balbec with pursuing F.W.190s still firing shells at me as I crash-
landed.
Squadron Leader Checketts had a remarkable experience early in
September. He was leading the squadron as high cover to Marauders
bombing ammunition supplies in the marshalling yards at Cambrai,
and the Spitfires were just swinging away from the target when some
twenty Focke-Wulfs dived on them from out of the sun. The
squadron broke up and dogfighting began. Checketts records how
he sent one of the German machines down in flames and then:
Suddenly flak bursts appeared all around me and I started to weave and
twist to avoid them. I then saw 5 F.W.190s at three o'clock above me
coming down to attack us and called my No. 2 to break. We fought for
altitude and finally got it, when to my surprise saw two more F.W.190s
above me. One of them came for me in a port turn, the same as mine, and
the other took the other turn and attacked head on. The first enemy aircraft
could not get me and I thought the other one could not either. His first
attack was miles out and I thought I would get a shot at him next time round,
but we both missed. His third attack was terrific and I saw all his cannon
firing, also his spinner and engine cowlings. There was a terrific explosion
at my feet and my cockpit filled with flames. I frantically clutched my hood
release and dragged the hood open. The flames gushed round my face and I
released my harness and stood out into the slipstream. The stench of burning
flesh was sickening and I seemed to be hours trying to escape this inferno.
At last my body was wholly out but the toe of my flying boot caught on my
windscreen catch and I was being dragged swiftly down; a terrific kick and
I was hurtling head over heels down and down. I clutched my ripcord and
pulled and a hard jerk stayed my fall. The F.W.190 flew close to me and I
was terribly afraid – would he shoot me? No. I saw my No. 2 fly away home
to dinner as I drifted slowly down with the white canopy billowing above
me and my friend the enemy watching me.
Checketts was then about four miles east of Cayeux. He narrowly
missed a power cable on the way down and landed in a field where
peasants were busy harvesting. Immediately a boy took him on the
back of his bicycle and hid him in the depths of a wood. Checketts
was badly burnt on the face, arms and legs, and as he lost consciousness he could hear the Germans searching for him. When he came
to he saw a man standing less than twelve paces from him. Checketts
lay very still for some time, then suddenly something touched the
back of his neck and a voice whispered ‘All right’. It was a French-
manFrenchman who had crawled up behind him. He warned him that the man
standing near was a German soldier, so they crept stealthily away
from the wood and after dodging soldiers and patrols eventually
reached the Frenchman's home, where another British pilot was
already in hiding. Checketts was nursed and fed, the people, he
says, ‘starving themselves in order that I might have plenty.’ He was
unable to see for five days and could not walk on account of his
burns. Then after spending a fortnight in bed, or else hiding in a
hayloft when German patrols were active in the neighbourhood, he
received further help which enabled him to return to England
within a month.
Checketts was made a member of the Distinguished Service Order
a few weeks later. During the short period he had been in command
of the New Zealand Spitfire Squadron it had destroyed eighteen
enemy aircraft, with three more probably destroyed, for the loss of
only seven pilots, three of whom, including himself, had made their
way back to England.
Squadron Leader Hume, experienced pilot and determined fighter
who had been with No. 485 for nearly two years, followed Checketts
as squadron commander, and under his leadership the New
Zealanders continued to fly intensively on escort duties and offensive
patrols across the Channel. A vigorous action was fought on 16
September. That day the Spitfires were flying as high cover to
Marauders attacking the airfield at Beaumont-le-Roger. Shortly after
leaving the target the New Zealanders became involved with a mixed
formation of Focke-Wulfs and Messerschmitts. These fighters tried
twice to get to the bombers but were prevented by a section of six
Spitfires from No. 485 which dived on them and finally drove them
down almost to ground level, while the rest of the Biggin Hill Wing
was able to escort the bombers clear of the French coast. Among the
pilots in action with the German fighters was a Maori pilot, Warrant
Officer Wipiti,
Warrant Officer B. S. Wipiti, DFM; born New Plymouth, 16 Jan 1922; refrigerator
serviceman; joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 3 Oct 1943.
who shared a Focke-Wulf with Houlton. Another
German fighter was shot down by Flying Officer Metcalfe,
Flying Officer M. Metcalfe; born Wellington, 17 Mar 1923; student; joined RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Sep 1943.
but a
few moments later he was himself shot down, his Spitfire crashing
in flames. Flight Lieutenant Gibbs lost touch with the others and was
on his way to the coast when a Messerschmitt flew across his nose; he
gave chase and shot it down into some woods. One pilot gives this
fleeting impression of the battle:
The sky seemed full of enemy fighters brushing past me and attacking on
every side in a firework display of tracer bullets. I saw a Focke-Wulf catch
alight. Tongues of flame came from his punctured tanks, licking the fuselage
and heavy black smoke trailed upwards. The German pilot threw his machine
into a desperate turn. Then suddenly it exploded like a grenade – a blinding
flash, a black cloud and debris floating down.
Another Focke-Wulf was breaking away hotly pursued by a Spitfire. I did
my best to play my part and back our man up and give him cover but he
was far ahead and I could not follow his rolls and turns. Climbing again I
opened fire at any German plane passing within range and defended myself
to the best of my ability.
Then I noticed two Huns converging on the tail of a Spitfire below me.
A slight pressure of the rudder and I had one of them in my sights. Quickly
I squeezed the firing button. Flashes appeared on his fuselage, so I pulled
up out of my dive and saw him going down with a trail of smoke coming
from his engine.
I was beginning to feel dizzy and my arms were aching – manoeuvring a
Spitfire whose controls are stiffened by speed is exhausting work – especially
at 25,000 feet. Was not sorry when the Germans, who had perhaps had
enough, dived away towards their base and merged into the countryside far
below.
A similar battle two weeks later led to Flying Officer Mortimer
Flight Lieutenant J. E. Mortimer, DFC; born Auckland, 12 Jul 1916; warehouseman;
joined RNZAFApr 1941.
spending nearly a year in France. Having disposed of one Focke-Wulf 190 and engaged another, he found his Spitfire so badly
damaged that he had to land in the sea near the Somme estuary.
Almost knocked out by the crash, he was carried down to the bottom
before he could struggle free, reach the surface and inflate his
dinghy. For the rest of that day and night he tried to sail towards
England but the tide swept him up the Somme and into a muddy
creek. Covered with a mixture of oil, blood, and black mud, he
staggered ashore at dawn and narrowly missed walking straight
into a German camp. Then a lucky encounter provided food and
wine, after which he wandered for five more days and nights before
he found more friends. They put him in touch with a French
Resistance group, but it was only after a series of further adventures
‘dodging and even rubbing shoulders with the Germans’ that he
finally got back to England eleven months later.
From the middle of October No. 485 Squadron operated from
Hornchurch in Essex for a few weeks before moving northwards
to an airfield near Edinburgh, where it remained for the winter
months. Apart from occasional patrols flown in defence of the
Scottish capital and the Firth of Forth, this was an uneventful
period and pilots were glad when, at the end of February 1944, the
squadron returned south to Hornchurch to join the Second Tactical
Air Force and take part in the final preparations for the invasion
of Europe.
* * * * *
For No. 486 Typhoon Squadron, the second New Zealand day-fighter unit in the Royal Air Force, 1943 was also a year of particular
interest and achievement. During the early months the Typhoons
were employed mainly on interception patrols against the fast
German fighter-bombers that flew in low over the sea to attack
south coast towns and shipping. Lack of heavy bomber aircraft and
the strength and efficiency of the British defences had compelled the
Germans to adopt this form of reprisal against the Allied bombing
raids. Even so, it was short-lived. High-powered radar stations along
the south coast of England and a highly efficient Observer Corps
The members of the Observer Corps were all volunteers and included many veterans of
earlier wars. They manned their posts, often sited in exposed conditions, in all weathers
and it was frequently due to their prompt sighting and identification of enemy raiders that
defending fighters and anti-aircraft guns were brought into action.
now combined to provide an effective system of early warning
against enemy raiders flying in low from the sea. Successful interceptions by British fighters became more frequent and the anti-aircraft guns also took their toll. By June 1943, with the mounting
scale of the Allied bomber offensive, the Germans could no longer
spare aircraft for even this modest scale of attack. Thereafter daylight raids by piloted aircraft against the United Kingdom were
negligible and the Typhoon squadrons, including No. 486, were able
to turn more to the offensive as the year advanced.
January 1943 found the New Zealand squadron at Tangmere
airfield in Sussex, the base from which they had already achieved
notable success against the tip-and-run raiders. In spite of wintry
weather the regular patrols, on which Typhoons normally flew in
pairs, were continued between Beachy Head and the Isle of Wight–
the squadron's allotted ‘beat’. But it was not until the middle of
the month that Sergeant Taylor-Cannon
Squadron Leader K. G. Taylor-Cannon, DFC and bar; born Oamaru, 20 Dec 1921;
student; joined RNZAFApr 1941; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945; killed on
air operations, 13 Apr 1945.
–known on the squadron
as ‘Hyphen’ – scored another definite kill. He shot a Messerschmitt
fighter-bomber down into the sea after a long chase out over the
Channel some 40 miles beyond the Isle of Wight.
Interceptions became more frequent during February and March
and three raiders were definitely destroyed, the successful pilots being
Pilot Officer Murphy,
Squadron Leader F. Murphy, DFC; born Bolton, Lancashire, 19 Jan 1917; clerk; joined
RNZAFMar 1941.
Flight Sergeant Tyerman,
Pilot Officer W. B. Tyerman; born Taihape, 22 Oct 1920; sheep farmer; joined RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 10 Nov 1943.
and Flight Sergeant Fitzgibbon.
Pilot Officer R. H. Fitzgibbon; born Rangiora, 20 Oct 1920; motor mechanic; joined
RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 6 Sep 1943.
Murphy's success occurred when he was nearing the
end of a coastal patrol just before dusk one February afternoon.
He chased a Ju88 through the gathering gloom just above the sea,
scoring numerous cannon strikes; the enemy bomber then caught fire,
hit the water, and burnt in a pool of flame. Tyerman was on patrol
with Sergeant Jorgensen
Pilot Officer M. O. Jorgensen; born Auckland, 7 May 1922; carpet warehouseman;
joined RNZAFMay 1941; killed on air operations, 16 Sep 1943.
when control directed them towards
Bognor Regis, the large seaside resort near Portsmouth. They
sighted a Focke-Wulf bomber flying in low towards the town. To
divert the German pilot from his objective Jorgensen opened fire at
long range. The German turned away, at the same time jettisoning
a bomb which burst on hitting the sea and threw up a large column
of water right in front of Jorgensen's Typhoon. He pulled up
sharply in an attempt to avoid it but quite a lot of water entered the
air intake of his engine. He was just able to reach land before the
engine stopped and then force-land in a field. Meanwhile Tyerman
had closed on the Focke-Wulf and opened fire. He saw vivid strikes
on the fuselage and pieces fall away. The enemy machine then slid
along the surface of the water and disintegrated in a burst of smoke
and flame.
A few days later Fitzgibbon reported the third definite kill after
a long chase out to sea. On return to the English coast he found the
countryside shrouded in mist and, running short of petrol, was
forced to make an emergency landing. His Typhoon was wrecked
but he escaped serious injury. Only a few weeks earlier, Fitzgibbon
had had another narrow escape. While taking off in company with
a second Typhoon a tire burst. His aircraft swung violently towards
the other Typhoon. Its pilot just managed to accelerate enough to
jump over Fitzgibbon's lurching machine, which then careered
wildly across the aerodrome before it finally crashed into a hangar.
As the German tip-and-run raids on the south coast diminished,
the regular fighter patrols were generally replaced by a system of
immediate readiness in which squadrons maintained one or two
sections prepared to take off at short notice. This ‘cockpit readiness’,
as it was often called, became very familiar to the pilots of No. 486
Squadron during the next few months.
The system adopted was for two men to maintain an hourly vigil
in their machines. Engines would be warmed up, after which the tanks
were topped up at the petrol bowsers. Each pilot then checked over
his instruments and completed the usual ‘drill before take-off’, so
that everything was ready for a flying start. In the event of a scramble
aircraft usually took off against the prevailing westerly wind straight
across the airfield out of their pens, each of which was fitted with
a loudspeaker connected to the Operations Room, a mile or so away.
In the early dawn, when pilots who had been roused early might
be inclined to doze in the cockpit, there might come a sudden click
as the loudspeaker was switched on, then the duty WAAF's urgent
call ‘Scramble – Clincher Red Section!’ and again ‘Clincher Red –
Scramble!’ There would be a frozen second while the sleepy pilot
became fully awake to find his hands already reaching automatically
for the doping pumps, the ignition and the booster coil buttons.
Opening the throttle the moment the engine fired, he was soon
zigzagging his machine wildly between the aircraft parked out on
the field and then away across the grass, with the Typhoon's Sabre
engine sounding shrill and loud even through his earphones. In less
than a minute the undercarriage would be raised and the Typhoon
heading for the coast just above the treetops, slowly building up
its speed to the maximum.
Guided by his Ground Control, who had been watching the ‘plot’
of the raider, the pilot would begin searching for his target. Often
the radar plot would turn out to be false or the enemy machine would
have already turned for home and a disconsolate pilot, denied the
thrill of pursuit, would return to base cursing his luck after a fruitless search. But there were many successful interceptions, of which
No. 486 Squadron continued to have its share. One action towards
the end of May is thus recorded:
Squadron Leader D. J. Scott, Flight Lieutenant A. E. Umbers
Squadron Leader A. E. Umbers, DFC and bar; born Dunedin, 30 Jun 1919; clerk;
joined RNZAFNov 1940; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944–45; killed on air
operations, 14 Feb 1945.
and Flying
Officer A. H. Smith,
Squadron Leader A. H. Smith, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 12 Jan 1921; accountant;
joined RNZAFMar 1941; commanded No. 197 Sqdn, 1944; p.w. 31 Dec 1944.
were scrambled under Kenley control shortly after mid-
day. They were informed of ‘bandits’ over Brighton and were vectored in
that direction. But Scott at once realised that it would be impossible to catch
the enemy there as he saw bombs already bursting so he flew straight out
to sea in order to intercept.
After two minutes flying the section saw twelve aircraft in line abreast,
flying flat out on the deck roughly two miles away. Two were lagging
slightly, later recognised as a FW190 behind the main formation and a
Me190 to starboard. Scott selected the Focke-Wulf and allotted the Messerschmitt to Umbers.
Scott then fired a burst at long range to make the German pilot weave,
which he did, and this enabled him to close more rapidly. Scott fired another
two bursts and saw strikes on the fuselage and pieces of the aircraft breaking
away. After his second burst the enemy machine blew up and cart-wheeled
in the air, debris flying in all directions, through which Scott flew, pieces
striking the main plane and oil cooler, without causing much damage. The
other pilots went on after the main body but apparently the Hun had rear
cover waiting for us some miles out to sea, for at this point five or six
enemy fighters swept down in order to cut us off. In this manoeuvre they
were successful for Scott was compelled to turn into them but was unable
to position himself for a shot. Umbers abandoned his chase and came across
to protect his leader's tail. As he did so something hit his starboard wing tip
and on landing he found a hole clean through the wing, apparently made
by a cannon shell but it had no effect on the handling of his aircraft. By this
time another section, which had been scrambled from Tangmere, had arrived
on the scene but the Hun had disappeared so our aircraft returned to base.
Before turning back Scott flew over the burning wreckage on the water and
signalled the position of the Hun but there was no sign of him.
Scott had taken over command of No. 486 at the beginning of
April from Squadron Leader Roberts,
Wing Commander C. L. C. Roberts; born Forest Hill, London, 22 Aug 1916; joined
RAF1935; CFI No. 57 OTU, 1941–42; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn, 1942–43,
and No. 257 Sqdn, 1943; Sector Commander HQ Middle East, 1944; commanded No. 26
AACU, 1944–45.
a Londoner, who had led the
squadron since its formation. Scott had begun his career with the
RAF in 1941 with the night-fighter squadron commanded by
R. F. Aitken, then a Squadron Leader. Scott soon won particular
distinction as a night-fighter pilot and rose from the rank of Flight
Sergeant to Squadron Leader in nine months. While flying intruder
patrols with No. 3 Squadron, he accounted for five enemy machines.
A typical attack was that made on a Dornier 217 over the
airfield at Venlo. Scott sighted the German machine at about
1000 feet as it came in to land, oblivious of his presence and with
its landing light shining brightly; after a long burst he had the
satisfaction of seeing it crash in flames on its own airfield below.
Before he was appointed to command the New Zealand Typhoons,
Scott had served at Fighter Command Headquarters and then with
No. 198 Typhoon Squadron. At Tangmere he soon proved himself
an efficient and popular leader, welding his pilots into a first-class
team. He was as thorough on the ground as in the air and soon his
dispersal huts were a model which became renowned throughout
Fighter Command. Neat lawns and flower beds were laid down and
highly productive vegetable gardens were developed. All this work
was done by the men in their spare time and the effect on squadron
morale was particularly favourable.
As the weeks passed scrambles became less frequent and, after a
period during which pilots became rather restless at their inactivity,
No. 486 Squadron was allowed to turn to offensive patrols over the
Channel and northern France. It was, in fact, shortly after Scott's
arrival that the New Zealand Typhoons flew their first offensive
patrols in between their periods of watchfulness along the south
coast. Within a fortnight the squadron had claimed two Focke-Wulf
190s destroyed, another probably destroyed, and a fourth damaged
in various sweeps across the Channel. Soon the Typhoons were also
attacking enemy ships off the French coast. In one attack, early in
May, a 3000-ton freighter sighted off Le Havre was left enveloped in
smoke after ‘a violent explosion on the stern as ammunition
detonated.’ Two flak ships escorting the freighter were also hit. The
pilots had flown in at mast height in the face of anti-aircraft fire
from all three ships and from coastal batteries. Such missions, which
gave each pilot full opportunity to fire his guns and see his bullets
kicking up clouds of spray around the ships as he swept down to
attack and then pull out just above the masts, provided a welcome
change from the weary hours of coastal patrolling or cockpit readiness that still filled so many days.
From the middle of 1943RAF fighter-bombers were employed
to an increasing extent in attacks on enemy airfields as well as on
ports and shipping, and the New Zealand Typhoons frequently
escorted these aircraft on such missions. There were definite
advantages in using the fighter-bombers in offensive operations over
northern France, for not only were these aircraft faster and less
dependent on a strong escort but their versatility ensured full employment either as fighter or bomber, whereas the light and medium
bombers might well be grounded for days on end owing to lack of
suitable targets.
The typical fighter-bomber operation in which the New Zealanders
took part at this time employed eight bomb-carrying Typhoons –
nicknamed ‘Bomphoons’ by the service – escorted by a similar
number of Typhoon fighters armed with cannon and machine gun.
The aircraft would form up and set course across the Channel at
low level in order to avoid early detection by the German coastal
radar posts; then, some 15 miles from the French coast, the formations would begin to climb at a rate that would enable them to be
just above the level of the enemy's light flak when crossing the
coast. The machines continued to climb until they reached 12,000
feet when they levelled out and increased speed towards their target.
On reaching it the ‘Bomphoons’ adopted an echelon formation and
the leader rolled over and dived to the attack, releasing his bombs
at about 7000 feet. Meanwhile the escort would be sweeping round
the target, diving slightly to keep up with the bombers. As they
turned for home all the Typhoons regained formation, when they
were free to operate, if necessary, as a formidable fighter force.
It was in such a mission towards the end of June that the New
Zealanders added two more Focke-Wulf 190s to their score. On this
occasion Scott led nine Typhoons as escort to fighter-bombers of
No. 181 Squadron in an attack on the large German-occupied airfield at Abbeville. It was a day of clear skies and bright sunshine as
the force assembled over Selsey Bill and set off across the Channel,
flying a few feet above the sea. The Typhoons crossed the coast
near the mouth of the Somme, with the New Zealanders flying just
over 1000 feet above and up sun of the fighter-bombers. Approaching
Abbeville No. 486 Typhoons went slightly ahead and swept round
to the south of the target as the bombers went down to attack.
‘Bombing was excellent,’ says a report of the action, ‘bursts were
seen among buildings and aircraft on the field followed by a huge
column of smoke which rose to 3000 feet.’ On the way out from the
target the New Zealanders flew above and behind the bombers.
Then, a few miles off the mouth of the Somme, Scott noticed a
lagging bomber so he took part of the escort round to cover it. At
this moment five Focke-Wulfs were seen coming out from the coast
and, just as the leading pair opened fire on the straggler, Scott led
six of his Typhoons down in a head-on attack. The Germans
immediately broke away and turned inland but Scott caught up with
one of them and opened fire. He saw his bullets ploughing up the
foam on either side of the enemy fighter and then suddenly it pulled
up violently, turned over, and dived straight into the sea. Flight
Lieutenant Umbers chased another Focke-Wulf through a series of
aerobatic manoeuvres, got in several sharp bursts, and then saw it go
down into the Channel.
During these months the New Zealanders also played a not inconsiderable part in air-sea rescue operations. There was a particularly
interesting episode in mid-July. A Wellington bomber had come
down in the sea off the French coast after being damaged by flak
in a night raid. The crew had been able to scramble into their dinghy
and for the next day and a half had taken turns at paddling towards
England. But a strong current carried the small craft back towards
France and they made little headway. As their rations dwindled so
did their hopes of rescue fade, for although they had seen many
aircraft flying overhead and fired Very lights, none had noticed
their dinghy.
The men had been in their dinghy for thirty-six hours when they
were sighted by Wing Commander Scott while he was leading a
formation of New Zealand Typhoons across the Channel to search
for shipping in the approaches to Le Havre. A signal giving the
dinghy's position brought the RAF Air-Sea Rescue organisation into
action. Relays of Spitfires were ordered to patrol over the dinghy
and a Coastal Command Hudson carrying an airborne lifeboat was
ordered to the scene.
The New Zealand Typhoons had by this time returned to base
to refuel, but soon Scott and four of his pilots were airborne again
to relieve a formation of Spitfires patrolling over the dinghy. Shortly
after they had taken over, the Hudson carrying an airborne lifeboat
arrived on the scene under escort of four Spitfires. It is interesting
to record here that the Hudson was navigated by Flying Officer
Hender
Squadron Leader W. C. K. Hender; born Lyttelton, 20 Mar 1910; farmer; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
of No. 279 Squadron, one of the small group of New
Zealanders flying with the Air-Sea Rescue squadrons at this time.
Hender released his lifeboat skilfully and it floated down to land
near the bomber crew. They were seen to board it, start up the
motors, and set course for the English coast. By this time a further
four Typhoons of No. 486 Squadron, led by Umbers, had arrived
to take over the patrol from Scott. However Scott, who had just been
warned by control of German fighters in the area, decided to remain
as long as fuel permitted.
His action was well justified for, a few minutes later, a formation
of fifteen Focke-Wulfs appeared from the south. Scott thereupon
ordered both his sections into a defensive circle. The Germans
hesitated to attack and remained hovering a few thousand feet above
the Typhoons. Still maintaining a circle formation, Scott began to
lure the Germans away from the dinghy – a delicate manoeuvre but
it was successful. Then on reaching a point some ten miles away,
Scott chose a moment when the enemy fighters were turning away
from him as they circled above, ordered his pilots into battle
formation, and pulled up sharply to the attack. The Germans
quickly swung round and dived towards the tail of the New Zealand
formation, opening fire as they swept down. Soon aircraft were
milling about all over the sky and, as several pilots noted in their
reports, ‘it was extremely difficult to distinguish friend from foe
during the battle.’
In its early stages Scott was involved in a remarkable incident.
As the Germans came down he pulled up towards their leader and
they both went into a sharp turn, Scott firing a short burst as they
did so. However, the turn made by the German was tighter and
Scott struck the slipstream, which threw his machine into a spin.
He recovered when only a few hundred feet above the sea, just in
time to see the splash as an aircraft went into the sea and a parachute billowing out on the surface. Fitzgibbon had seen Scott's aircraft begin to spin and had continued the attack, sending the Focke-
WulfFocke-Wulf over on its back; and with a puff of smoke from its engine
and pieces falling away it had dived straight into the sea near Scott.
The pilot baled out but his parachute barely had time to open.
Meanwhile Scott pulled up to join the remainder of his formation
and saw a number of dogfights going on around him. Flight Lieutenant Umbers and Pilot Officer Sames
Flight Lieutenant A. N. Sames, DFC; born Newmarket, Auckland, 25 Jul 1918; carpenter;
joined RNZAFMar 1941.
were both hotly engaged.
Sames was climbing to attack when he saw four Focke-Wulfs diving
towards him. Suddenly one of them made a climbing turn in front
of him, presenting an almost perfect target. Sames opened fire and
saw strikes, a burst of flame from the engine, and pieces of fuselage
break away. He continued to climb and turn, manoeuvring for a
favourable position to continue his attack. Then he fired a second
burst from above and behind and another from below the tail. There
were strikes on the fuselage and wing root, whereupon the German
machine went on its back down into the sea. There was no sign of
the pilot baling out but more fragments were seen to fall into the
water.
Umbers opened fire in a steep climbing turn on another FW 190,
which was also climbing and turning in the same direction. As the
German levelled off just above him, Umbers fired a second burst.
He saw a violent explosion in the engine and on the leading edge
of one wing. By this time Umbers' machine was practically standing
on its tail and he was forced to stall turn and roll out. As he came
out of the roll, he saw the enemy aircraft dive away with a dense
cloud of black smoke pouring from it. He was about to give chase
when he noticed a Focke-Wulf firing at another Typhoon, so broke
away to help. Relieving Spitfires now appeared on the scene and the
Germans fled, leaving the New Zealanders to return to base and
report the destruction of two German fighters and the probable
destruction of two more, without loss to themselves. Meanwhile the
lifeboat had continued on its way unmolested. It was later met by a
high-speed launch from Newhaven and the six members of the
bomber crew landed safely, little the worse for their experience.
As a mark of their appreciation and admiration for the part the
New Zealanders had played in their rescue the bomber men autographed one of their yellow scull caps and presented this to No. 486
Squadron, together with the centre keel-board from the lifeboat.
The latter, polished and varnished, was thereafter much prized as
the squadron scoreboard, and by the end of the war it was to register
a substantial total of enemy aircraft destroyed and ships damaged
and sunk.
The summer months of 1943 continued to be eventful for No. 486
Squadron. On some days the Typhoons escorted fighter-bombers in
raids on enemy airfields, while on others they were themselves
escorted by Spitfires to make cannon attacks on enemy fighters in
their dispersal pens. The assault on enemy shipping along the
Channel coast continued and the Typhoons were also active on
sweeps over enemy territory and in searches and patrols over the
Channel. During the long summer days crews were at constant
readiness from dawn to dusk over a period of eighteen hours and
frequently the squadron flew three missions in one day.
There were several notable attacks on ships in the Channel during
the early part of August. On the 3rd a naval auxiliary vessel and
twelve ‘R’ boats were attacked off the French coast. The larger ship
was left burning and hits were reported on seven of the ‘R’ boats.
A few days later an enemy coaster intercepted near Cherbourg was
heavily attacked and set on fire. The following week two more
coasters were found outside the estuary at Ouistreham and attacked
in the face of considerable anti-aircraft fire from shore batteries as
well as from the ships. Both vessels were hit and, as the Typhoons
turned for home, one of them was on fire and the other appeared
to be sinking. Similar attacks followed during the next few months.
The New Zealanders were now frequently flying as part of the
complete Typhoon Wing that had been formed at Tangmere. One
of the three squadrons would carry bombs while the other two acted
as escort, and operating in this manner the Typhoons made some
very effective attacks on targets in northern France. At other times
the wing flew as part of the fighter escort in larger operations,
covering Mitchell bombers in their raids on power-stations, ports
and airfields, and marshalling yards.
In September Scott, who had led the squadron so well – only one
Typhoon had been lost for nine enemy fighters destroyed – was
appointed to lead the Tangmere Wing. His promotion to Wing
Commander had come only twenty months after he had been
commissioned. At the same time he was made a member of the
Distinguished Service Order, the citation for which described him as
‘a first-class leader whose great skill and fine fighting qualities had
been reflected in the high standard of operational efficiency of a
squadron which has obtained many successes.’ At the beginning of
1944 Scott was appointed to command the base at Hawkinge in
No. 11 Fighter Group, and shortly after the invasion of Normandy
he was to lead a Typhoon Wing from an airfield in France.
A few weeks after his arrival at Hawkinge Scott was concerned
in a very gallant episode. A Spitfire, damaged by enemy action, hit
the ground a short distance from the boundary in attempting an
emergency landing, bounced on to the airfield and burst into flames.
Scott was among the first to reach the scene and ran straight to the
fiercely burning cockpit to rescue the pilot. He had great difficulty in
freeing him from his parachute and harness, and by the time he had
succeeded in extricating the wounded man and carrying him to a
safe distance, he was badly burnt about the face and hands.
Squadron Leader Waddy
Squadron Leader I. D. Waddy, DFC; born Blenheim, 5 Nov 1914; sheep farmer; joined
RNZAFAug 1940; commanded No. 486 Sqdn, 1943, and No. 164 Sqdn, 1944; p.w.
25 Aug 1944.
succeeded Scott in charge of No. 486
Squadron and under his leadership the New Zealanders continued
to fly a wide variety of missions during the closing months of the
year. The squadron's role now gradually changed from that of a pure
fighter squadron to fighter-bombing. Many different types of target
were bombed, but it was the attacks on enemy ports and shipping
which produced the most spectacular results.
On 3 November the Typhoons sank two ‘R’ boats and five barges
near the mouth of the Seine; electric pylons carrying power-lines
across the river were also damaged. A fortnight later two 1000-ton
naval auxiliaries were attacked off Le Havre. One was sunk and
the other left blazing from stem to stern. ‘As the Typhoons went
in at mast top height,’ says a contemporary account of the second
action, ‘the pilots glimpsed red flashes from guns firing at them from
the shore and streams of coloured tracer spurted from the ships. The
sea was pattered with miniature geysers as the aircraft approached,
then spurts of flame appeared on the ships and guns swung
unattended as the crews fell dead. Then the second squadron added
its quota of cannon shells, and as the pilots flew home they watched
two black columns of smoke mounting into the still morning air.’
Air-sea rescue was still part of the squadron's work and one
Beaufighter crew were particularly grateful for its watchfulness. A
formation of Typhoons was returning from a mission over France
when far below them they noticed a puff of smoke, followed by the
twinkle of a red Very light. Down went the Typhoons, and on
sighting the dinghy they signalled its position and threw out markers
and rations. They continued circling until their petrol was almost
exhausted and reached base as darkness fell with just sufficient fuel
to land. Next morning the New Zealanders were disappointed to
hear that Albacores of the Fleet Air Arm which flew out during the
night to drop flares had failed to find the dinghy. It had probably
drifted some distance from its early position with the strong wind
and tide. Patrols during the next morning failed to find the dinghy
and it was late afternoon when Scott led four pilots from No. 486
Squadron to continue the search. They flew over the empty sea until
their petrol was running low and then, just as Scott was about to
give the order to return to base, he sighted the dinghy again. A
signal was sent and within a short time a motor launch reached the
spot and the crew were safe.
By the beginning of 1944 No. 486 Squadron was fully occupied
in both the fighter and the fighter-bomber roles. The sites from
which the Germans were preparing to launch their secret weapons
against England were now the primary target and the Typhoons
were frequently called upon to escort Mitchells and Marauders to
bomb the launching ramps and supply depots. They also carried
bombs to these targets themselves. When because of low cloud or
mist over France attacks on the flying-bomb sites were not possible,
the Typhoons ranged widely over enemy territory, attacking targets
of opportunity. Thus as the weeks passed the New Zealanders began
to make their contribution towards the final preparations for the
invasion of Europe, a contribution which was to be intensified when,
early in April, the squadron was re-equipped with the Tempest
fighter, the fastest machine then in service with the Royal Air Force.
* * * * *
The men of Fighter Command had now established a fine record
of achievement in the daylight offensive against the Luftwaffe.
During 1943 they had flown nearly one hundred thousand sorties
over enemy territory, and although many of these sorties were made
as close escort to Allied bomber formations when the fighter pilots
were not free to seek combat except in defence of their charges, the
final assessment of squadron reports showed the destruction of 705
German machines in the various missions over France and the Low
Countries. German records give substantial confirmation of this total.
Less tangible but equally important results flowed from Fighter
Command's effort. Within their effective range the day-fighter
squadrons had achieved a large measure of air superiority over the
Luftwaffe, thus enabling Allied bombers and fighter-bombers to
launch heavier and more destructive daylight attacks. The Germans
had long ceased to hold the initiative in the West and they were
given no opportunity to regain it. Moreover, by helping to contain
within the western zone two-thirds of all the first-line single-engined
fighters of the Luftwaffe, including many of its best units, RAF
Fighter Command had continued to give valuable aid to the fighting
fronts in Russia and the Middle East.
By the beginning of 1944 Fighter Command sorties often
exceeded a thousand a day, thus doubling the scale of attack achieved
by the Luftwaffe over Britain for a few weeks in 1940. But the
target area which Fighter Command now had to cover was much
greater than that which had confronted the Germans, and there was
the imminent threat of V-weapon attack to be met as well as the
need to secure and maintain air supremacy for the approaching
assault on the Continent. An even heavier scale of fighter and
fighter-bomber attacks was therefore planned for the spring of 1944.
CHAPTER 8
Night Fighters
After the failure of their ‘blitz’ on British cities during the
early months of 1941 the Germans had maintained only a small
and intermittent offensive by night against the United Kingdom.
The operations were devoted mainly to minelaying and reconnaissance and, apart from the short series of ‘Baedeker raids’ in the
middle of 1942, only occasional attacks were made on inland targets
by long-range bombers. They usually met with heavy losses. German
crews complained that the British defences were becoming
‘increasingly dangerous’, yet little was done to improve the training,
tactics, and equipment of units engaged against the United Kingdom.
At the beginning of 1943Hitler, infuriated by Bomber Command's
successful pathfinder raids, demanded heavier reprisals. But the
German bomber force in the West was now only a shadow of its
former self and, with the heavy demands of the Russian and
Mediterranean fronts, there was little to spare for any effective reply
to the massive attacks falling upon Germany. Yet Hitler was insistent
that there should be reprisals and on his direct order a new
Angriffsfuebrer England – England Attack Command – was formed
in March 1943 under Oberst Peltz, a prominent bomber pilot who
was generally regarded as a man of superior leadership and
organising ability. He was later to command Fliegerkorps IX which
had all jet fighters under its control.
A belated attempt was thus made to build up a force of fast night
bombers, but German bomber production was such that it would
be some months before new aircraft such as the Messerschmitt 410,
the Junkers 188, and the Heinkel 177 were available in any quantity.
In the meantime FW 190 day fighters were thrown into night operations to reinforce the Dornier 217s and the veteran Junkers 88s. At
the same time in an effort to secure better results, Peltz introduced
new tactics and radar devices and gave orders that crews were to
be more carefully briefed.
These various improvements and improvisations did not provide
anything like the scale of reprisal Hitler desired, nor did they
prevent a higher proportion of losses than in earlier years. Worse
still, the German bomber programme, which had envisaged the
replacement of current twin-engined bombers by four-engined types,
went badly awry. For example, the Heinkel 177, with its four engines
and two airscrews, upon which Goering had placed high hopes,
proved a costly failure. Planned to begin operations early in 1941,
the He 177 did not appear over England until three years later. Time
and again it had been grounded for persistent technical defects in
both engines and airframe – the engines caught fire so often in the
air that German crews nicknamed it the Luftwaffenfeurzeng, or ‘Air
Force cigarette-lighter.’ The Junkers 288, which was to be similarly
powered by two pairs of coupled engines, never even appeared.
Meanwhile captured German crews showed a lack of confidence in
their machines equalled only by their own lack of experience in
operations.
The whole German bomber force, in fact, was now paying the
penalty for Goering's facile optimism and failure to plan ahead
during the early years of the war. German aeronautical research had
been remarkably efficient, but lack of firm direction, contradictory
orders, and frequent changes of policy had led to something like
anarchy in bomber production.
On Hitler's insistence, the Luftwaffe attempted a last desperate
throw against England early in 1944. This assault was only made
possible by the withdrawal of units from Italy to supplement the
meagre bomber force left in France. It proved a dismal failure and
thereafter the German Air Force, never properly organised for
strategic employment, finally became impotent over Britain.
* * * * *
During 1943 the British night-fighter force, although not so large
as in the previous year, proved more than equal to the demands made
upon it. At the beginning of the year there were twenty-one
squadrons, eight of them equipped with the versatile Mosquito and
eleven with Beaufighters and two with Bostons, specially adapted
for night intruder work.
The crews of these squadrons, many now well versed in the
difficult art of night fighting, continued to use radar as their
principal aid to night interception. Patrols were maintained whenever there was any likelihood of enemy activity and other crews
were kept ready to take the air should a heavy attack appear
imminent. On patrol the Beaufighters and Mosquitos usually flew
above cloud over their sectors, keeping in close touch with ground
control interception stations, where radar plots and reports from
the Observer Corps gave the height and course of any hostile aircraft
in the area. This information was then used to direct crews towards
a target.
Patient experiment and the experience gained in operations since
the system was introduced early in 1941 had brought many improve-
mentsimprovements in equipment and technique. Ground control stations were
now more efficient and new types of airborne radar apparatus gave
better all-round results. Nevertheless, successful interceptions could
only be achieved by skilful teamwork on the part of the pilot and
his navigator/radar operator, working in close co-operation with
their ground controller.
The control station would first indicate over the radio telephone
the direction of a suspected aircraft and then the radar operator –
familiarly known as ‘the crystal-gazer’ – would switch on his set, a
miniature of that on the ground. Soon he might pick up a ‘blip’ on
his screen, which, according to the response of IFF apparatus
(Identification, Friend or Foe), would be identified as coming from
a friendly or hostile machine. If the response came from a ‘bandit’
the operator would give his pilot directions regarding course, height
and speed, until a visual sighting was made.
An experienced crew fortunate enough to be directed towards a
target by Ground Control could thus be expected to make contact
and finally bring the enemy to combat. On the other hand, a crew
new to night interception had little hope of success until they had
become expert in the use of their apparatus and adept in the current
tactics. Thorough training and constant practice were needed to
keep abreast of the latest developments in the technique employed.
The work was often monotonous, demanding the utmost patience,
concentration and skill; all too frequently long patrols were flown
under trying conditions, without even a sign of action. Moreover,
with fast-moving targets, often flying at high level and adopting a
variety of evasive tactics, crews had many disappointments by losing
their quarry before they were in a position for attack. The high
proportion of interceptions and combats reported was indeed a
tribute to their tenacity and skill.
One night-fighter pilot gives this impression of his work:
When Jerry stays at home a patrol is a dull enough affair – especially when
the night is cold and unfriendly, the horizon an indistinct smudge and the
stars but fleeting blobs of light between clouds. You are hurtling with all
lights out through a dark tunnel. You take comfort in the array of
phosphorescent dials in the cockpit, in the steady pulsating of your motors
and in, perhaps, a thought or two of a bright fire waiting for you when you
get down, a cup of steaming cocoa and a cigarette – unless there is business
about, and that is different.
There are nights though when every moment of the trip is a sheer joy,
when there is magic in the air; nights clear and frosty when the stars are
near and in clusters like primroses; blue-green summer nights with far-away
pinpoints for stars; nights of the moon when the surface of the earth shows
up in sharp relief, cold, stark, mysterious and still, and the sea has a sheen
whose loveliness no brush can paint.
You could come across Huns, a dark shape darting across your bows, a
suggestion of a swastika caught in the tail of a glance, a silhouette against
stars, and you could hit them but often never know if the blow had been
fatal. But to-night is full moon. We are going to fasten on till he falls out
of the sky with both engines on fire.
The engines are already warming up. The slipstream nearly takes us off
our feet as we scramble aboard. Willing hands are handing up gloves, scarf,
maps; a mouth frames some last-minute message of good luck though no
sound comes above the noise of the engines. A rapid check of instruments
as the engines rev up with an almost unbearable roar. Chocks away, hatches
closed and we are taxying round the perimeter track to the marshalling point.
Now we are lined up with the runway. The lane of lights narrows in the
distance, obeying the law of perspective like any art master's railway lines.
The engines are cleared, the throttles pushed slowly open and we move
forward, slowly at first, then, tail raised, faster and faster till the flare-path
lights race past in a broken line. Flying speed attained, she lifts off the deck.
We are free of the earth and climbing rapidly towards cloud faintly luminous
in the moon. The airfield lights recede and we are shut off from the earth.
On patrol the minutes drag by slowly. The cloud is breaking in a strong
wind and scurrying across the moon. We watch and listen.
Then suddenly orders come over the R/T: ‘Climb to operational height
and steer due west.’ ‘Hostile aircraft approaching position D from south-east.’
A mixture of fear and elation and we increase speed and steer for inter-
ception. Each second – miles and distance matter no longer – each second
draws us nearer to the enemy. We make a quick speed calculation. How many
seconds now and in what part of our sky will he appear? We strive to pierce
the darkness, eyes straining, anticipation and exasperation struggling with one
another. For a moment the moon gleams on some object entering the cloud
half a mile to starboard and we realise we are on his track. We increase speed,
skim under the cloud, estimating the position at which he is likely to emerge.
Or is he an old hand, and will he, sensing our presence, dodge us by changing
his direction in cloud? In a moment he is slap-bang in front of us, like a
silver fish. A Dornier with his high wing and twin fins; no mistaking him.
His tracer is passing above us like a trail of elongated sparks. The rear
gunner has got us against a background of cloud. We do a quick check turn,
dive a little and pull our nose up right under him and give him a long burst.
He begins to do a steep climbing-turn prior to evasive dive. But we've got
his starboard engine. A piece of cowling blows off, there is a long plume of
grey-white smoke and then a tongue of flame, a further half-hearted stream
of tracer, again gloriously above us, and now he is dropping like a plummet
line. There is a deep red glow in the cloud below us and a spiral of smoke.
We pull out a thousand feet above a sea, placid in the evening. There is
no sign of the Dornier.
* * * * *
At the beginning of 1943 the outstanding personalities among the
New Zealanders with the night-fighter force were Wing Commander
R. F. Aitken, who commanded the forward base at Bradwell Bay –
Aitken had been prominent in night operations from early in 1941
when he led No. 3 Squadron – Wing Commander J. S. McLean,
who commanded RAF Station, Hunsdon, and Wing Commander
I. S. Smith, who led No. 151 Mosquito Squadron. Squadron Leader
Sutton,
Squadron Leader K. R. Sutton, DFC; born Wellington, 18 May 1919; joined RAFMar 1939; transferred RNZAFMar 1944; Intruder Controller, HQ Fighter Command,
1943; commanded RAF Station, Llanbedr, 1943–45.
who in the previous year had been prominent on night
intruder operations, was now a flight commander of No. 85 Squadron
based at Hunsdon. Among the aircrew the main Dominion representation came from No. 488 Beaufighter Squadron.
Since its formation in June 1942 this New Zealand unit had been
stationed on the west coast of Scotland, a locality seldom visited by
German bombers – much to the disgust of the aircrews. But now
came a period with greater opportunities for action and No. 488
was soon to establish a fine record of achievement, not only in
defensive patrols over England but also in attacks on enemy trans-
port, aircraft, and airfields on the Continent. Wing Commander
Trousdale
Wing Commander R. M. Trousdale, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 23 Jan 1921; joined
RAFMar 1939; transferred RNZAFJan 1945; commanded No. 488 (NZ) Sqdn, 1942–43;
killed in aircraft accident, 16 Jun 1947.
continued to lead the squadron during the early months
of 1943. His flight commanders were Squadron Leader Rabone,
Squadron Leader P. W. Rabone, DFC; born Salisbury, England, 2 Mar 1918; joined
RAFMar 1939; transferred RNZAFMar 1944; killed on air operations, 24 Jul 1944.
who
had also been with the squadron since its formation, and Squadron
Leader Nesbitt-Dufort,
Wing Commander J. Nesbitt-Dufort, DSO; born 17 Feb 1912; joined RAF1935;
commanded No. 488 (NZ) Sqdn and RAF Station, West Kirby, 1943.
an Englishman, who had recently succeeded
Squadron Leader Gard'ner,
Squadron Leader J. R. Gard'ner; born Dunedin, 14 Jun 1918; joined RAFJan 1939;
transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
now on the night operations staff of
No. 13 Group which controlled the New Zealand squadron at this
time.
In the first two months of 1943 there were only two German night
raids of note – one against London and the other over western
districts – otherwise enemy activity was confined to minelaying and
reconnaissance sorties. Yet despite wintry weather and the fact that,
with only small enemy forces operating over a wide area, opportunities for interception were few, British night fighters achieved
particularly good results, altogether nineteen German machines being
claimed destroyed during this period.
Flight Lieutenant Jameson
Flight Lieutenant G. E. Jameson, DSO, DFC; born Christchurch, 20 Nov 1921; farmer;
joined RNZAFJan 1941.
and Pilot Officer Newton,
Flight Lieutenant H. B. Newton, DFC; born New Plymouth, 16 Nov 1916; insurance
agent; joined RNZAFNov 1940.
both flying
with No. 125 Beaufighter Squadron, were among those who reported
successful interceptions. They were in action within a few minutes
of each other one night in mid-February when thirty German
bombers made scattered attacks on south Wales and south-west
England. Twenty minutes after taking off Jameson was vectored
towards a target. His radar operator soon made contact and, following his directions, Jameson eventually sighted a Dornier 217 flying
just below broken cloud about half a mile away. He closed in,
opened fire, and set the enemy's port engine ablaze. Jameson then
went in for the kill, but just as he opened fire again his operator
warned him that another German bomber was closing in on them.
Accurate fire from this machine forced Jameson to break away, but
a few minutes later he had the satisfaction of seeing below him the
burning wreckage of the Dornier he had attacked. It had crashed
near Swansea.
Newton's patrol the same night was remarkable. After nine
months' uneventful flying on night operations he was in combat four
times within ten minutes and claimed two Dorniers destroyed,
another damaged, and a fourth probably destroyed. Newton was
airborne on an exercise with ground control when he was suddenly
warned of enemy raiders in his vicinity. A few moments later he
was directed towards a target travelling at high speed about two
miles ahead of him. Newton, however, had the advantage of height
so he dived and closed in. His radar operator obtained a contact and
a few seconds later Newton saw a German bomber flying through
the top of a thin cloud layer and ‘jinking’ from side to side. Two
short bursts brought pieces of flaming material falling away from
the enemy machine. Another burst and it went down with both
engines belching smoke and flames. Newton was then immediately
vectored towards his second target which proved to be two Dornier
217s. When sighted they were flying slightly ahead and just above
the Beaufighter. After a short chase Newton scored hits on the
engines and fuselage of one bomber. Then it disappeared so he went
after the second. Several short bursts found their mark, the machine
burst into flames and then dived straight into the sea, where
Newton's radar operator could see it burning on the water.
Scarcely recovered from these encounters, Newton was directed
towards another German raider a few thousand feet above him.
Contact was gained after a stern chase. Then, climbing at full
throttle, Newton sighted the Dornier and opened fire with a long
burst from slightly below and astern. Cannon shells hit the port
engine and fuselage and after further bursts the Dornier turned on
its side and went down towards the sea. He did not see it hit the
water, but another pilot confirmed its destruction. Although this was
the first occasion Newton had been in combat as a night-fighter
pilot, he had already seen action while flying with No. 101 Squadron
on bombing missions during 1941. The following year while flying
a Wellington bomber to the Middle East, Newton was forced down
in Portugal, but after three weeks' internment he escaped and
returned to England.
In March the Germans diverted a greater part of their effort
against Britain from minelaying to the bombing of land targets.
With the increased opportunities for interception offered by this
change of tactics and the advantages given by a new type of airborne
radar, British night-fighter patrols were particularly successful.
Twenty-six enemy machines were claimed destroyed or probably
destroyed during the month.
In an attempt to reduce losses the Germans began fitting special
radar sets in their bombers to indicate the approach of stalking
fighters. At the same time they introduced faster night bombers
which could possibly outpace the British night fighters. The Focke-Wulf 190, adapted as a fighter-bomber, made its first appearance on
night operations over the United Kingdom during April, and the
Messerschmitt 410, a fast fighter-bomber developed from the twin-engined Messerschmitt 110, followed in July. However, although
the FW 190 was a fast and versatile machine, the Germans soon
encountered difficulties in operating this single-seater day fighter
over enemy territory by night. On 16 April, when it first operated,
four out of the thirteen machines despatched became lost and landed
or crash-landed in Kent.
The first victories by night fighters against the Focke-Wulf 190s
came on 16 May, when four of these aircraft were destroyed by
Mosquitos, while two Messerschmitt 410s were shot down by British
pilots on the first night they were encountered in July. By that time
new tactics were being used by the Germans. Their fighter-bombers
climbed to 20,000 feet as they crossed the French coast; then to
avoid loss through bad navigation they were guided to their target
by radio telephone. Height was maintained until the bombs had been
dropped; then they immediately dived for home and were directed
by radio telephone to one of a number of airfields in northern
France. Nevertheless, British pilots continued to make successful
interceptions and, on the whole, the German fighter-bomber, carrying
a small bomb load and forced to fly at greater height, proved
singularly ineffective at night. Eventually most of them were withdrawn to meet the urgent needs of other fronts.
Meanwhile there had been intermittent action by German long-range bombers, including the veteran Junkers 88. Flight Sergeant
Kemp
Pilot Officer H. K. Kemp; born Auckland, 6 Sep 1921; warehouseman; joined RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 11 Apr 1944.
of No. 151 Mosquito Squadron was in action with one of
these machines early in May. He was pilot of one of five fighters
‘scrambled’ by his squadron from its base in Wiltshire to intercept
raiders operating against Cardiff. On patrol he sighted a target over
the Bristol Channel and was able to open fire before the German
crew had any inkling that they were being stalked by a night fighter.
His first burst hit the port engine. ‘The Junkers then started to weave
frantically,’ Kemp reported, ‘but I got in another burst and this hit
his starboard engine. There was a large flash followed by flames.’ He
then closed in to about 150 feet and fired another burst which
brought a stream of oil pouring over his Mosquito. The Ju88 finally
crashed near Minehead.
The Germans increased their effort against England for a short
period in October 1943, when night raiders operated on twenty-one
nights and flew a total of just over five hundred sorties. All the
attacks were aimed at London, but after crossing the coast the enemy
formations often became scattered and only a small number actually
succeeded in dropping their bombs in the London area.
During this period of increased activity the British night fighters
had to struggle against the effects of metallised strips dropped by the
enemy in imitation of those which Bomber Command had introduced
over Germany during the attacks against Hamburg some three
months earlier. Yet despite the skilful use of these strips, the high
speed of the Messerschmitt 410 flying at great heights, and the
warning of the approach of British night fighters given by radar
tail-warning sets with which all their long-range bombers were now
equipped, the Germans lost twenty-eight aircraft in just over three
weeks. The enemy effort was not sustained and fell away sharply
in November and December.
But in these months preparations were being made for what it was
hoped would be a more effective series of reprisal raids against
Britain. The opening of these attacks, which were to be short and
heavy and led by pathfinders on the RAF pattern, was delayed until
larger forces could be assembled and finally did not begin until the
end of January 1944.
* * * * *
Throughout this fourth year of war Fighter Command had not
been content to remain wholly on the defensive at night. Indeed,
offensive patrols over the Continent were flown by almost all the
squadrons of the British night-fighter force during 1943, and their
attacks on enemy airfields and communications proved an effective
supplement to the daylight raids.
At the beginning of the year offensive activity at night was largely
confined to the ‘Intruder’ operations over enemy air bases by two
squadrons specially trained for such duties, but as the year progressed
there was a steady increase in the night offensive, with sorties
directed against both ground and air targets. Towards the end of
January it was decided to add a flight of six aircraft to each of
the Mosquito night-defence squadrons for use on ‘Ranger’ patrols
against ground targets, particularly enemy transport. This expansion
was not immediate owing to the current shortage of Mosquito air-
craft, so until sufficient machines were available each night-fighter
squadron was allowed to provide not more than three aircraft for
‘Ranger’ missions during each full-moon period. During April 289
sorties were made over enemy territory by night – double the total
flown in any of the previous three months. In the second half of
the year 2250 such patrols were flown.
The two ‘Intruder’ squadrons, No. 418 Canadian Squadron and
No. 605 RAF Squadron – at this time equipped with Bostons – were
both based on stations commanded by New Zealanders. The
Canadians operated from Bradwell Bay where Wing Commander
Aitken was in charge. Detachments from other night-fighter
squadrons also flew from Bradwell Bay on offensive missions over
the Continent during the moonlight periods. No. 605 Squadron was
stationed at Ford, a satellite of Tangmere, which for the first four
months of the year was commanded by Group Captain H. D.
McGregor.
One of the flight commanders in No. 605 was Squadron Leader
Mack
Squadron Leader A. W. Mack, DFC; born Wellington, 20 Jan 1916; joined RAF1937
transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
and by August he had flown fifty-two operations over enemy
territory. He had earlier completed a tour of duty with Bomber
Command, flying in early raids on such targets as Hamburg, the
Ruhr, and Stavanger in Norway. On his first operational sortie – a
leaflet raid five days after war began – his aircraft was forced down
in Belgium. The crew were interned, but Mack escaped and rejoined
his unit three months later. During his tour on ‘Intruders’ he
attacked three enemy aircraft over France, but as they were not seen
to crash he only claimed them as damaged. On one occasion his aircraft struck what was though to be a balloon cable about 430 miles
from base. Although four feet of the starboard wing, including most
of the aileron, was torn off, he got his aircraft back to base. In
October 1943 Mack was posted to Headquarters Fighter Command
as an intruder controller. Flying Officer F. E. Hogg,
Flight Lieutenant F. E. Hogg, DFC and bar, Croix de Guerre (Bel.); born Edinburgh,
3 Oct 1919; warehouseman; joined RNZAFNov 1939.
who had flown
as a navigator in the early intruder operations, also did good work
with No. 605 Squadron; by mid-1944 he had completed eighty-eight
missions.
In early ‘Ranger’ patrols Flight Sergeant Blackburn
Pilot Officer T. B. Blackburn, DFM; born Christchurch, 17 Jun 1917; joined RNZAFFeb 1939; killed in flying accident, 26 Apr 1943.
of No. 141
Squadron won commendation for his work as a navigator, showing
‘exceptional skill and resource.’ On occasion he flew with his commanding officer and several successful patrols were the direct result
of his careful navigation; he was also prominent in attacks on enemy
shipping. Unfortunately Blackburn was killed on 26 April 1943
when his Mosquito crashed on a training flight.
One of the most interesting tasks undertaken by the British night
fighters during 1943 was the protection from enemy night fighters
of the stream of bombers flying into Germany. The patrols were
flown by Mosquitos fitted with special equipment which enabled
them to home to the transmissions sent out by German fighters, and
the first squadron to be so equipped claimed to have destroyed
sixteen enemy machines during the second half of the year. Free-lance patrols over German night-fighter bases were also employed
with good effect.
Squadron Leader Brinsden
Wing Commander F. N. Brinsden; born Takapuna, 27 Mar 1919; joined RAF1937
transferred RNZAFJan 1944; p.w. 18 Aug 1943; retransferred RAF1947.
was prominent on operations in
support of the British bombers with No. 25 Mosquito Squadron.
He had fought over France and in the Battle of Britain and was
one of the original flight commanders in No. 485 New Zealand
Spitfire Squadron. On the night of 17 August Brinsden was captain
of one of the Mosquitos which flew in support of Bomber
Command's attack on the German experimental station at Peene-
munde. After patrolling in the vicinity of Sylt he decided to bomb
the airfield there.
We determined to fly out to sea, at about 2000 feet, as though flying
home, then descend gradually, still heading westwards until at sea level, about
face and fly back to Sylt, hoping by these means to outwit the radar screen
and carry out a surprise attack.
All went well. As we approached Sylt pinpointing was easy for the town
was silhouetted against a clear sky and the full moon made the scene as light as
day. Over the town then at roof height, a slight turn to port towards the aerodrome hangers [sic] shining in the moonlight at about half a mile away, range
shortening, coming up to optimum – stand by – bombs gone. Now a vicious
turn to starboard to pass between the hangers – and blindness. A searchlight
shining right into the cockpit from the nearest hanger roof. No forward
vision; no cockpit instruments; nothing to help us orientate ourselves, and
too low to evade vigorously. Then tangerine tracer shells passing too close
to be safe. Now something had to be done. Violent evasion – and at sea
level – while still heading generally eastwards was the only course open. At
last the searchlights were lost and the tracer stopped but before vision had
fully returned a violent acceleration, a dreadful shuddering, broken air screws
screaming. We had touched the water – and bounced.
Warning my navigator to prepare for a ditching I meanwhile scanned the
cockpit. Rev. counter needles were against the stops but other instruments
seemed normal. Would it fly us home? Too soon it became evident that it
would not and pre-ditching action was taken.
The ditching was normal and I had some seconds in which to gather vital
papers before the aircraft sank. Then swam towards the dinghy and joined
my navigator who by this time was sitting in it. A quick survey of our
position showed us to be between Sylt and the mainland and south of the
railway embankment joining the two. Fortunately neither of us was seriously
injured.
Little could be done to manoeuvre the dinghy. The type we had was a
beast of burden, not of navigation, and although we rigged our seat type
dinghy sails and endeavoured to sail out of the bay and westward under a
favourable off-shore breeze, dawn brought an inshore one and a change of
tide, and back we went into the bay.
Finally at the mercy of another inshore breeze we were blown ashore at
mid-day on the 18th into an encircling ring of troops, who were impatiently
waiting our arrival, having watched us drifting up and down the bay for the
last six hours!
* * * * *
No. 488 New Zealand Squadron was now taking a prominent
part in the night offensive. It had first seen action over north-west
France earlier in the year while still based at Ayr in Scotland. While
training and intermittent patrols over that area continued, detachments had begun to fly to airfields in the south during each moonlight period for ‘Ranger’ patrols over the Continent. Wing Commander Trousdale led the first detachment to Coltishall on 15
February. The other two aircraft were captained by Squadron
Leader Rabone and Flying Officer Gunn,
Flight Lieutenant J. A. Gunn; born Gisborne, 12 Feb 1920; joined RNZAFAug 1940;
motor mechanic; killed on air operations, 15 Sep 1943.
who made the first
offensive sorties the next night. Rabone encountered bad weather
and was forced to return after flying some ten miles into enemy-occupied territory, but Gunn was more fortunate and reported the
squadron's first success in its new role – an engine and two barges
seriously damaged near Nieuport. He was opposed by accurate flak
and searchlights but had the satisfaction of seeing the barges on
fire. The following night Trousdale, while flying over Belgium,
located a train on which he scored cannon strikes; he also shot up
two barges. On 19 February Gunn flew the last ‘Ranger’ patrol
of the February moon period when he succeeded in shooting up
two railway engines and two barges, without encountering any
serious opposition. Trousdale was now posted to the staff of
No. 13 Fighter Group and was succeeded by Wing Commander
Nesbitt-Dufort, one of the flight commanders. His flight was taken
over by Squadron Leader McIntyre,
Squadron Leader A. G. McIntyre; born Auckland, 4 Jan 1917; joined RAFApr 1940.
who fought in the Battle of
Britain and had been one of the founder members of No. 485
Squadron.
The RAF was now intensifying its campaign against the enemy's
railway system on the Continent, and crews were ordered to concentrate their attacks against railway engines since it was felt that their
damage or destruction would have the maximum effect. Most of the
attacks were made by night fighters for there was anxiety lest
casualties be inflicted on civilians travelling by day. The Beaufighter,
with its impressive fire power of four cannon and six machine guns,
proved highly successful in such missions. Taking off singly in the
light of the rising moon, crews would fly low over France, Belgium,
or Holland seeking a main railway line along which troop or
supply trains would be passing. On sighting a target the pilot would
‘pull out all the stops’ and roar into the attack with cannon and
machine guns blazing. The train would then grind to a standstill
with the engine enveloped in smoke and spurting steam in all
directions from the holes in its boiler. Occasionally a fortunate crew
might see an engine explode or burst into flames but it was always
difficult to determine whether a locomotive had actually been
destroyed. Therefore it was usual for crews to claim them as
damaged unless the engine was actually seen to blow up.
Beaufighters from No. 488 Squadron flew regularly on such
missions during the moon period, which lasted for approximately
a week and came towards the middle of each month. Usually three
crews would fly south, operate for several nights and then be relieved
by another three crews for the remainder of the period, so that in
this way most members of the squadron had an opportunity of
taking part in offensive work as a relief from the monotony of
training and the relatively uneventful defensive patrols. Their efforts
met with encouraging success. By the end of June, when No. 488
Squadron began to re-equip with Mosquito night fighters, crews
had destroyed or damaged forty locomotives during their sorties
over enemy-occupied territory.
The most successful ‘train-busting’ team during this phase was
Pilot Officer Reed
Flight Lieutenant G. F. Reed, DFC; born Auckland, 4 Apr 1920; clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1940.
and his English navigator, Flight Sergeant
Bricker,
Flight Lieutenant R. Bricker, DFC; born London, 2 Mar 1912; sales manager; joined
RAFJan 1941.
who claimed no fewer than thirteen engines either destroyed
or damaged – twice they attacked three engines during a single
sortie. After one such mission Reed reported:
We crossed the French coast, north of Isigny and gave a long burst at a
train three miles east of Caretan; the engine burst into flames which were
visible for a couple of miles. Approaching Folligny on the return route a
second train was attacked – it stopped and the engine emitted clouds of steam.
On homeward course another train proceeding from Airel to Caretan was
attacked with a long burst stopping the train. Clouds of steam came from the
engine.
Squadron Leader Davison,
Squadron Leader F. W. Davison; born Timaru, 2 Aug 1921; watchmaker and jeweller;
joined RNZAFFeb 1941.
who became a flight commander in
April, and his navigator, Flying Officer Cutfield,
Flight Lieutenant A. S. Cutfield; born Cambridge, 24 May 1916; clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1940.
were credited with
successful attacks on ten engines. Pilot Officer Watt,
Flying Officer E. C. Watt; born Gore, 15 Feb 1918; school teacher; joined RNZAFNov 1940; killed in flying accident, 13 Jul 1943.
who flew with
an English navigator, claimed six locomotives damaged, four of them
during one sortie, while several other New Zealanders, including
Flight Lieutenant Browne,
Squadron Leader A. E. Browne, DFC; born Auckland, 14 Jul 1913; factory manager;
joined RNZAFDec 1940.
Flying Officer Jeffs,
Flight Lieutenant R. G. Jeffs; born Napier, 4 May 1918; piece goods salesman; joined
RNZAFJan 1941.
Pilot Officers
Fleming,
Flight Lieutenant K. M. Fleming; born Auckland, 23 Dec 1920; shop assistant; joined
RNZAFJun 1941.
Bergemann
Flight Lieutenant R. D. Bergemann; born Auckland, 10 Aug 1919; draughtsman;
joined RNZAFApr 1941.
and Robinson,
Flight Lieutenant D. N. Robinson, DFC; born Gisborne, 19 Apr 1922; station hand;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
made successful attacks
against trains, lorries and other targets. Often the Beaufighters
encountered intense anti-aircraft fire as they crossed the enemy coast,
and many of the trains they attacked were equipped with a special
anti-aircraft gun truck, the gunners putting up a stout defence. How-
ever, no aircraft were lost nor were any seriously damaged. A large
part of the credit for this freedom from casualties and also for the
overall success achieved in these patrols must go to the navigators
who, apart from their other duties, managed to keep their pilots
clear of well-defended areas and get them home again after what
was often a ‘Cook's Tour’ of the Continent.
The news that No. 488 Squadron was to exchange its Beaufighters
for Mosquitos was greeted with great enthusiasm by the aircrew and
they entered with a will into the period of intensive training which
followed. There had been a change of command at the end of May
when Wing Commander Burton-Gyles,
Wing Commander P. R. Burton-Gyles, DSO, DFC and bar; born Southsea, 6 Oct 1918;
joined RAF1937; commanded No. 488 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943; killed on air operations, 10
Dec 1943.
an outstanding English
‘Intruder’ pilot, succeeded Nesbitt-Dufort. The experience of the
new commanding officer was a great advantage to the squadron
during the three months it spent converting to Mosquitos and in
training at Ayr and then at Drem, near Edinburgh. Unfortunately,
he did not remain to lead the aircrews on operations, as early in
September he left to take command of No. 23 Squadron in Malta
and was replaced by another British pilot, Wing Commander
Hamley,
Group Captain P. H. Hamley, AFC; RAF; born Plymouth, Devon, 18 Jan 1912; joined
RAF1931; commanded No. 488 (NZ) Sqdn, 1943; commanded No. 62 OTU, 1943–44;
Ops Staff, No. 10 Fighter Group, 1944–45.
who had considerable experience of many types of aircraft
and had recently been the commanding officer of an operational
training unit.
On 3 September the squadron began the long-awaited move south
to Bradwell Bay in Essex to take part in the night defence of that
area. A few days before leaving Scotland the New Zealanders took
part in an unusual rescue mission when they searched for fishing
smacks carrying refugees from Denmark that had been sighted in
the North Sea. The vessels were found in very bad weather more
than 200 miles east of the Scottish coast and were seen to be
shipping heavy seas. But the Danes did not appear dismayed and
stood on deck under their national flag, waving sheets to the circling
aircraft. The vessels were escorted until the aircraft were forced to
return to base because of petrol shortage and eventually the ships
arrived safely in Scottish ports.
At Bradwell Bay the squadron settled down quickly and began
the last stage of training crews to operational efficiency with their
new machines. This was not easy for the Mark VIII radar set with
which the Mosquitos were fitted was quite new to most of the
navigators and, in addition, the squadron was receiving many new
crews, the majority unfamiliar with Mosquitos. Much time had
therefore to be spent in practice flying in between operational patrols.
Meanwhile the ground crews were kept very busy making themselves familiar with the servicing routine of the new type of aircraft.
Inspections took longer than when the unit was equipped with
Beaufighters, and faults, which later became routine, at first took
time to isolate.
During this transitional period the New Zealanders received much
valuable help from members of No. 605 Intruder Squadron which
now shared the same airfield, and a fine spirit of companionship was
built up between the two squadrons. By a strange coincidence the
original No. 605, like the original No. 488 Squadron, had been in
the Far East. Previously its pilots had put up a high score while
flying Hurricanes in the Battle of Britain. In their ‘Intruder’ patrols
they now ranged as far afield as the Baltic on special missions by
day as well as by night.
No. 488's hard work of the past months was rewarded on 15
September when, after a fortnight of patrols with many unsuccessful
chases, the first German aircraft were claimed destroyed by crews
flying Mosquitos. Flight Lieutenant Gunn was on patrol off the
south-east coast when enemy raiders appeared in the area and Gunn
was given directions to intercept them. He made contact with an
Heinkel 111 and the combat took place close to the airfield. Many
members of the squadron saw a ‘great ball of fire in the sky, heard
the explosion which followed and saw the aircraft plunge into the
sea.’ There was jubilation in the squadron's dispersal area but this
was soon replaced by gloom when there was no further news of
Gunn. It was later ascertained that his aircraft had been shot down
by the Heinkel while pressing home his final attack.
The loss of Gunn and his Scottish navigator, Flying Officer
Affleck,
Flying Officer J. Affleck; born Roslin, Midlothian, 2 Jan 1920; joined RAFSep 1939;
killed on air operations, 15 Sep 1943.
a deservedly popular team, was quickly avenged. Flight
Lieutenant Watts,
Wing Commander R. G. Watts; born Auckland, 11 Mar 1916; shepherd; joined RNZAFDec 1940; commanded No. 488 Sqdn, 1944–45.
on patrol off the south coast, was given a vector
and after radar contact sighted a Dornier 217. Then followed a
chase in which Watts closed to 500 feet before opening fire. He
later reported:
…. I gave a three-second burst, which struck the enemy aircraft on the starboard engine and fuselage, causing debris to fly off. The engine caught fire,
and he went down towards the sea.
The Dornier crashed about 30 miles south-east of Foreness and
continued to burn for some minutes before disappearing beneath the
water. For the rest of the month the New Zealanders continued to
patrol their sector, aided by occasional ‘scrambles’ from the ground,
but there were no further interceptions.
Early in October an all New Zealand crew, Pilot Officers Knox
Flight Lieutenant N. McA. Knox; born Dunedin, 2 Sep 1916; clerk; joined RNZAFJun 1941.
and Ryan,
Flight Lieutenant T. P. Ryan, DFC; born Morrinsville, 29 Mar 1916; engineer; joined
RAFAug 1941; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
engaged a Dornier 217 near Canterbury after a long
pursuit through thick mist. They made two attacks, and during the
second Knox saw strikes on the Dornier's engine and fuselage before
contact was lost in the mist. Three days later the squadron lost its
most experienced pilot, Flight Lieutenant Ball,
Flight Lieutenant E. C. Ball; born Kinsdale, Ireland, 28 Mar 1912; shepherd; joined
RNZAFMar 1940; killed on air operations, 9 Oct 1943.
and his Scottish
navigator, Flying Officer Kemp,
Flying Officer W. Kemp; born Aberdeen, 13 Jul 1918; joined RAFApr 1939; killed on
air operations, 9 Oct 1943.
when their Mosquito crashed near
Bradwell Bay on return from a patrol. Ball had returned to begin
a second tour of duty with No. 488 Squadron in July. He had earlier
completed two tours of bomber operations, the second with No. 75
Squadron. Kemp also had much experience of bomber and night-fighter operations. This was not the only loss suffered by the
squadron at this time; a few days later another crew were lost
during a practice flight when their Mosquito dived into the River
Blackwater.
New and inexperienced crews were continually joining the squadron at this time and had to be trained for operations. Much of this
work fell on the two flight commanders, Squadron Leader Hobbis,
Squadron Leader D. O. Hobbis, DFC; born Tynemouth, Northumberland, 25 Apr 1910;
joined RAFSep 1939; commanded No. 1451 Flight, 1942; killed on air operations, 25
Nov 1943.
a prominent English tennis player, and Squadron Leader Davison.
Among the more experienced pilots were Flight Lieutenant Cook
Flight Lieutenant W. R. Cook; born Timaru, 8 Oct 1918; clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
and Flying Officer Hall.
Flight Lieutenant P. F. L. Hall, DFC and bar; born Opotiki, 16 May 1922; schoolmaster;
joined RNZAFJul 1941.
Cook had already completed a tour of
night fighting with No. 141 Squadron, and towards the end of 1942
he had chased a Dornier 217 which, in its frantic efforts to escape,
crashed into a gasometer at Bognor. Hall had previously flown
many photographic reconnaissance sorties in Spitfires.
Early in November No. 488 Squadron claimed its first Messerschmitt 410 destroyed. This success, which came only after a long
and difficult chase, was scored by the squadron's leading ‘train
busting’ team, Reed and Bricker. Reed's report is as follows:
I was scrambled for incoming raids and whilst at 25,000 feet was vectored
on to a possible enemy aircraft at 17,000 feet, distance 6 miles. I put my
nose down increasing speed to 320 m.p.h. and my navigator obtained a
contact at 1¾ miles range, crossing port–starboard at 10,000 feet. I turned
hard to starboard and although the contact was lost it was later regained.
Closed to 4,000 feet, target well above. I had a vague visual and closed into
800 feet when target went into light cloud, exhausts being visible. As both
aircraft came out of cloud I identified the enemy aircraft as a Me410. I
opened fire with two second burst of cannon from 250 yards from slightly
above and to starboard and the enemy's starboard engine caught fire but it
then appeared to fly straight on with no evasive action or return fire. I gave
a further three seconds burst from 250 yards, above and to starboard, and
the enemy aircraft rolled over to port diving vertically. My navigator saw
the port wing buckle under and the aircraft disintegrate in flames in cloud.
Another Me410 was shot down towards the end of the month by
Flying Officer Hall. On patrol over south-east England he was
vectored towards a target and, after a long pursuit, was able to
overhaul the Messerschmitt. Opening fire with a short burst from a
range of 600 feet, Hall saw strikes on the fuselage. A large yellow
explosion followed and the enemy machine was last seen diving
down into cloud. During the chase the two aircraft had flown
across the south of England and out over the Channel almost to the
French coast at Calais before Hall turned for home on orders from
Ground Control. He did not see the Messerschmitt crash but it was
later confirmed as destroyed.
Unfortunately the same night, Squadron Leader Hobbis failed to
return from patrol after signalling that his Mosquito had caught
fire. To take his post as ‘A’ Flight commander, Watts was promoted
Squadron Leader. Meanwhile in ‘B’ Flight Squadron Leader Davison
had been posted and replaced by Squadron Leader Bunting,
Squadron Leader E. N. Bunting, DFC and bar; born St. Johns, Worcs., 8 Jun 1917;
joined RAFOct 1939; killed on air operations, 30 Jul 1944.
of
Worcester, who had already won distinction as a night-fighter
pilot. There was now intense rivalry between the two flights as to
which of them would score the next success. ‘A’ Flight was to be
the fortunate one when, on 20 December, Flying Officer Robinson
and his British navigator, Flying Officer Clarke,
Flight Lieutenant W. T. Clarke, DFM; born Croydon, Surrey, 11 Apr 1919; joined
RAFMar 1938.
destroyed another
of the elusive Me410s. Radar contact was obtained on a target
flying well above the Mosquito so Robinson climbed to 25,000 feet
before he sighted the raider. Although it was flying at 300 miles an
hour, he was able to close and open fire but owing to vapour trails
could not observe results. The Messerschmitt then began climbing
and diving in tight turns for it was now held by searchlights.
Robinson kept up his attack and saw strikes on the port engine and
fuselage and a red glow inside the enemy machine. He met determined return fire as he went in for the kill. Pieces flew off the enemy
aircraft, which then turned steeply and dived to crash and explode
near Rye, in Sussex.
Towards the end of the year Wing Commander Hamley was
promoted Group Captain and placed in charge of an operational
training unit. He was succeeded by Wing Commander Haine,
Wing Commander R. C. Haine, DFC; RAF; born St. Stephens, Gloucestershire, 1 Oct
1916; joined RAF1935; commanded No. 96 Sqdn, 1941–43, and No. 488 (NZ) Sqdn,
1944; CI No. 57 OTU, 1945.
of
Gloucester, who had been flying on operations since the beginning
of the war, had risen from sergeant pilot and won commendation
during the Battle of Britain as a Blenheim day-fighter pilot. Early
in May 1940 he was shot down over Holland just after the Germans
had invaded that country. After eluding enemy paratroops and
making an unsuccessful attempt to capture a Messerschmitt fighter
in which he hoped to fly back across the Channel, he was taken
aboard the destroyer bringing Queen Wilhelmina to England.
Haine was not unknown to many members of the squadron as they
had been trained at the unit where he had been in charge of flying
training.
Flying Officer Bergemann and his British navigator, Flying
Officer Bishop,
Squadron Leader K. R. Bishop; born London, 15 Sep 1922; joined RAFSep 1941.
scored the first success of 1944. Taking off in the
late evening of 2 January, they spent two hours on practice runs
before they were given a course which resulted in an interception.
A difficult chase followed, from 25,000 feet right down to 6000 feet
at speeds approaching 350 miles an hour. But radar contact was held
and eventually Bergemann caught a glimpse of the enemy machine
weaving from side to side some 800 feet ahead. Three fierce attacks
had to be made before the Messerschmitt finally went down, and in
the end Bergemann nearly collided with his target as the German
pilot made a last desperate effort to break away. Pieces of debris
from the enemy machine hit the Mosquito and damaged the starboard engine, forcing Bergemann to make an emergency landing
at an airfield near the coast.
This was the beginning of a very successful period for No. 488
Squadron which coincided with a substantial increase in enemy
activity over England.
* * * * *
As 1943 drew to a close the Germans prepared for further
reprisal raids against Britain. With their morale at a low ebb – the
fall of Sicily had been followed by the capitulation of Italy and in
Russia German armies had just been flung back beyond Kiev –
propaganda was urgently needed for the home front. Something
had to be done. Perhaps the news that Britain was again under
heavy attack would have a heartening effect.
The German bomber force in the West was therefore reinforced
from Italy and by the end of December it totalled some 550
bombers – a somewhat assorted collection made up mainly of
Junkers 88s, Junkers 188s and Dornier 217s, thirty of the new
Heinkel 177s, at last available for long-range bombing operations
against the British Isles, twenty Messerschmitt 410s and twenty-five
Focke-Wulf 190s. This force, however, was not as formidable as it
seemed. There had already been a marked deterioration in the
efficiency and striking power of the enemy bomber force in the
Mediterranean and the general standard of training throughout the
German bomber squadrons was not high enough to allow an effective
and concentrated attack on vital British targets. Recognition of this
deep-rooted weakness in his force led the German commander,
Oberst Peltz, to imitate the RAF pattern of pathfinding and to form
units manned by crews specially trained in navigation who would
be assisted by radar and radio ground control. By these means he
hoped to overcome the low standard of operational efficiency so
evident among the squadrons available.
The new offensive was timed to begin over the Christmas period,
but was delayed until the New Year by bad weather. On 20 January
1944 Peltz delivered a speech to German bomber crews specially
paraded at Chateaudun for the purpose. The Herrenvolk, he said,
had hitherto had to endure the destruction of their home towns by
British bombs without being able to retaliate. The position had now
changed. The time for retribution had arrived and large-scale attacks
on England would now commence. As a further boost to morale
Peltz inaugurated new target areas in London, each of which bore
the name of a German city that had been devastated by RAF Bomber
Command. The curtain went up the following night with an attack
on ‘Munchen’ – London's West End – against which 270 sorties
were flown.
It fell far below expectations. The pathfinder technique proved
too elaborate for inexperienced crews and few aircraft succeeded
in reaching Greater London. Not more than thirty tons of bombs
fell on the capital, while nearly 300 tons were scattered around the
countryside at large. There was then an interval of eight days before
the next major attack, but it achieved no greater success, while two
further raids in the first half of February were dismal failures; on
both occasions only a very small proportion of the total bomb load
fell on the target. It was not until 18 February that the Germans,
using a simpler pathfinder technique, succeeded in dropping a worth-
whileworthwhile quantity of bombs – about 175 tons – in the London area.
Nevertheless, during March and until the last attack on 18 April
only about half of the total number of aircraft operating on any
one night were able to reach the target area. Moreover, the German
effort fell off consistently. After the opening attack not more than
100 to 140 bombers operated on any one night. In between the raids
on London, Hull was the target for two attacks and a third was
directed against Bristol. But the increased distances to these cities
brought serious errors in navigation and German crews were often
unable to identify their targets; in the attack on Bristol, for example,
the bombing concentration fell near Weston-super-Mare, about 20
miles away.
Altogether the Germans failed to obtain any noteworthy success
during this offensive. Their bombers suffered heavy losses, about
135 aircraft being destroyed by night fighters and anti-aircraft
guns – approximately 6 per cent of the sorties flown – while further
losses were incurred through the inexperience of the crews and from
successful Allied low-level attacks on German bomber bases on the
Continent.
The British night defence, of which Fighter Command's thirteen
Mosquito and three Beaufighter squadrons were the spearhead,
proved equal to the test. At first, there was alarm when the enemy
raiders began dropping metallised strips on a large scale in an
attempt to swamp the British radar with spurious echoes. As yet
there was no effective counter and it was fortunate that the existing
radar system was not so seriously affected as had been feared.
Nevertheless, there were occasions when it was virtually blinded
over wide areas. Then the ground control stations were unable to
track enemy aircraft and assist the patrolling night fighters; searchlights and anti-aircraft guns had to revert to sound location. On the
other hand, British radar counter measures were so successful in
disrupting German navigational aids that the enemy crews, unable
to find their targets, were often unaware they were being led astray
by their own radar devices.
Civilian casualties from air raids in Britain during the first four
months of 1944 amounted to 1497 persons killed and 2841 seriously
injured – nearly all of them Londoners – but, grievous though this
was, it scarcely compared with the 41,480 people killed and 48,470
seriously injured during the ‘blitz’ of 1940. The British people,
particularly the Londoners who, after the spate of German propa-
ganda, had prepared for a renewal of air raids on a similar scale to
that which they had endured in the early days of the war, were
surprised at the weakness of the enemy attack. They dubbed it the
‘Baby Blitz’, and it is under this name that the brief assault of early
1944 which signalled the final collapse of the German bomber force
has passed into history.
* * * * *
The renewal of the German attack had brought increased activity
for the British night fighters in both defensive patrols over England
and intruder operations over enemy bomber bases on the Continent.
New Zealanders were early in action. In the opening raid Warrant
Officer Kemp shot down the first Heinkel 177 destroyed over
England. Flying a Mosquito of No. 151 Squadron, Kemp had been
airborne for about half an hour when ground control warned him
that enemy aircraft were in the area and he was given several vectors.
After flying for some time without making contact, Kemp saw a
searchlight cone appear, and as he dived towards it his British radar
operator, Flight Sergeant Maidment,
Flight Sergeant J. R. Maidment; born Camberwell, London, 14 Oct 1922; joined RAFSep 1941; killed on air operations, 11 Apr 1944.
obtained a head-on contact at
two miles range. A few moments later Kemp sighted the enemy
bomber and began to close in. But the enemy machine, apparently
aware of the Mosquito's approach, suddenly peeled off and dived
away taking violent evasive action. Contact was lost but quickly
regained when the German bomber began to fly straight and level,
heading for the North Sea. Kemp again closed in and opened fire.
There was a violent explosion and a shower of sparks appeared on
the port wing. In the light of the explosion Kemp saw a white
swastika on the tail of the bomber as it skidded to one side. It then
went down in a steep dive and was subsequently found crashed near
Haslemere, in Surrey.
The same night the New Zealand Mosquito Squadron put up
twelve aircraft on patrols in the vicinity of London. Several inci-
dentsincidents were reported. One crew, Flying Officer Bergemann and Flying
Officer Bishop, who only a few nights earlier had shot down an
Me410 into the Channel, were on the point of opening fire on an
enemy bomber when it was hit by an anti-aircraft shell and blew up.
But the most notable episode was the destruction of two enemy
bombers by Flight Lieutenant Hall
Squadron Leader J. A. S. Hall, DFC and bar; born Oxford, 25 Dec 1921; joined RAFAug 1940.
and his navigator, Flying Officer
Cairns.
Flight Lieutenant J. P. Cairns, DFC and bar; RAF; born Working, Surrey, 19 Feb 1916;
joined RAFAug 1939.
They were on a free-lance patrol when they sighted and
attacked a Dornier 217 coned by searchlights. After a long and
accurate burst from the Mosquito's guns, the Dornier broke up and
fell into the sea in flames. Turning back towards the coast, Hall
saw another machine caught by intersecting beams. It proved to be
a Junkers 88. Hall attacked as the German pilot swung away from
bursting anti-aircraft shells. Both engines of the enemy machine
caught fire and almost immediately the fuselage burst into flames.
The aircraft then went down like a flaming torch and crashed near
Lympne, in Kent.
This episode received considerable publicity at the time and photographs of the pilot and
navigator appeared in the London Sunday newspapers over the caption ‘The Flying
Tigers’. The following morning raw meat was placed in front of the two airmen when
they appeared for breakfast.
It was not long before 488 Squadron was again in the news. On
the night of 4 February Flight Sergeant Vlotman,
Flying Officer C. J. Vlotman; born The Hague, Holland, 12 Feb 1915; joined RAFAug 1941.
a Dutch night-fighter pilot flying with the New Zealanders, destroyed a Dornier
217, which fell into the sea 40 miles east of Foreness. Vlotman was
interviewed by Dutch journalists and an article on his exploits
appeared in the underground newspapers in Holland. He also
broadcast to Holland over the BBC, but his identity was not disclosed
for fear of reprisals against members of his family still in Holland.
February was a month of intense activity for the New Zealanders
with the Mosquitos airborne on defensive patrols almost every night.
Normally they operated in co-operation with the ground control
interception station, each crew patrolling for a period of about three
hours. On occasion extra machines would be scrambled to intercept
suspected enemy aircraft, but until the 24th only a few fleeting
visuals were reported. Meanwhile two crews had been lost. Early
in the month Flight Sergeant Watson
Flight Sergeant K. J. Watson; born Palmerston North, 10 Mar 1923; motor mechanic;
joined RNZAFMar 1942; killed in flying accident, 3 Feb 1944.
and his navigator, Flight
Sergeant Edwards,
Flight Sergeant E. F. Edwards; born Wakefield, 23 Apr 1917; orchard worker; joined
RNZAFMar 1942; killed in flying accident, 3 Feb 1944.
were lost on patrol. Flying Officer Riwai,
Flying Officer T. R. Riwai; born Otaki, 13 Sep 1918; general clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1942; killed on air operations, 21 Feb 1944.
a
Maori pilot serving with the squadron, and his navigator, Flight
Sergeant Clark,
Flight Sergeant I. Clark; born Mataura, 12 Dec 1919; clerk; joined RNZAFMay 1942;
killed on air operations, 21 Feb 1944.
were killed when their Mosquito crashed at the
end of the airfield whilst taking off on a night operation.
On the 24th there was considerable enemy activity over south-eastern England but outside the New Zealanders' normal patrol
area. However, two hours before midnight. Flight Lieutenant P. F. L.
Hall was ordered to scramble and to fly into the patrol area of a
neighbouring squadron and there to ‘free-lance’ with the aid of
searchlights. Hall chased several searchlight intersections before he
identified a Dornier 217, caught in the beams as it dived towards
the coast. He opened fire and saw strikes followed by smoke, but
the enemy aircraft then eluded him. Continuing his patrol Hall saw
a searchlight intersection slightly below him and on investigation
saw a German bomber approaching from directly ahead, the black
crosses on the wings plainly visible in the glare of the searchlight
beams. He fired several sharp bursts which set the bomber's port
engine on fire. Then it went into a steep dive, with burning pieces
falling away, and finally hit the ground and exploded. Subsequent
inspection of the wreckage showed the destroyed aircraft to be a
Heinkel 177.
Further successes were scored by No. 488 Squadron during March
when the Germans made further attacks on London. On the night
of the 14th Squadron Leader Bunting shot down a Junkers 188 after
searchlights had betrayed its position. The engagement was brief as,
after the first burst of cannon fire, the bomber dived vertically to
the ground where it exploded in a mass of smoke and flame. Then
a week later, on 21 March, the squadron created a record by destroying no fewer than five German raiders.
On this night a large raid was plotted approaching from the
Dutch islands. Very appropriately the first aircraft of the German
formation – a Junkers 88 – was shot down into the sea by the Dutch
pilot, Vlotman. Shortly after this success, Vlotman was put into
contact with an enemy aircraft which he was unable to identify. It
was a very dark night and the German crew were dropping large
quantities of metallised strips, but Vlotman succeeded in maintaining contact and opened fire from 200 yards. The enemy machine
went down into the sea near Herne Bay. During the action pieces of
wreckage hit the Mosquito and next morning were found embedded
in the radiator and nose. The next pilot to land was Flight Lieutenant J. A. S. Hall of London, who had witnessed the destruction of
the Dutchman's first victim. He had then himself intercepted a
Junkers 88 over Essex which he shot down in flames, the wreckage
falling on an American airfield near Halstead. Two more Huns went
to Squadron Leader Bunting. He had been co-operating with searchlights before making contact with a Junkers 88, which he set on fire.
The German bomber then dived away to explode on hitting the
ground. Bunting resumed his patrol until vectored towards another
raider. A contact was obtained at nearly four miles range and there
began a long and hard chase, with the German bomber turning and
twisting in the hands of an obviously experienced pilot. But eventually Bunting was able to manoeuvre into a favourable position and
open fire. The bomber, now recognised as a Junkers 188, burst into
flames and exploded on hitting the ground.
For the remainder of the month the New Zealanders alternated
practice flights in co-operation with Bomber Command aircraft with
further interception patrols, but there was only one night when
there was any activity in their area. On that occasion Flying Officer
C. M. Wilson
Flying Officer C. M. Wilson; born Auckland, 15 Jun 1923; student; joined RNZAFFeb 1942; killed on air operations, 25 Mar 1944.
and his navigator Flying Officer A. W. Wilson,
Flying Officer A. W. Wilson; born Invercargill, 17 Feb 1923; electrical engineer cadet;
joined RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 25 Mar 1944.
were lost in action whilst patrolling off North Foreland.
It was to be almost a month before the squadron was again
successfully engaged with the enemy. This was on the night of 18
April when the Germans made their final attack of the ‘Baby Blitz’
on London. Two enemy aircraft were destroyed that night, one by
Flight Lieutenant J. A. S. Hall and his navigator, Flying Officer
Cairns, the other by Warrant Officer Bourke
Pilot Officer R. F. D. Bourke; born Pahiatua, 15 Sep 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFJul 1941.
and Flying Officer
Skudder.
Flight Lieutenant I. C. Skudder; born Kawakawa, 7 Nov 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1942.
Hall's target was a Junkers 88. After a prolonged chase
it was finally overtaken near the Belgian coast and shot down
into the sea, its destruction being witnessed by a pilot from a
Canadian night-fighter squadron. While this crew were being con-
gratulated, Bourke and Skudder landed to report the destruction of
another Junkers 88. Bourke's combat report reads:
Contact was obtained at 6,000 feet range, about 500 feet above. I closed in
at 200 m.p.h. on the enemy aircraft which was doing approximately 170
m.p.h. A visual was obtained at 800 feet and the enemy aircraft was seen
to be taking gentle evasive action and was dropping ‘Window’. Target was
at first believed to be a Junkers 188 but when I opened fire at 250 yards
dead astern and slightly below, I recognised the aircraft as an 88. My first
burst of 1 ½ seconds hit the port engine and the port wing. The engine burst
into flames and the enemy aircraft dived straight down into the sea on fire.
There was no return fire ….
This same night there was an unusual incident. In the early hours
Flying Control reported that an aircraft, possibly a Mosquito, was
coming in to land, with one engine on fire. It appeared, however,
that it could not be one from No. 488 but from another squadron.
Aircraft in the circuit made way for the disabled machine and members of the New Zealand unit, including the commanding officer,
stood by to render assistance. The strange aircraft made a crash-landing with wheels retracted and as it skidded to a stop Wing
Commander Haine, an ambulance, and fire tender arrived on the
scene. The fire tender began to spray foam on the burning motor and
then, ‘to the utter amazement of the bystanders’, four Germans
clambered down from the aircraft. It was a Junkers 88. A certain
similarity in construction to the Mosquito, the darkness and a somewhat natural lack of suspicion, had combined to distract attention
from the aircraft until that moment. The German airmen were taken
prisoner, and the Junkers, after it had been explored by members
of the squadron, was removed to an experimental establishment
where it was subsequently repaired and flown in tests against
British aircraft.
* * * * *
At the beginning of April 1944 the actual strength of the German
bomber units in the West had fallen below 200 aircraft, with many
units holding less than half their establishment. And now, on top of
the losses sustained in the reprisal raids against London during the
previous months, came the German decision to concentrate all
possible resources on fighter production. Moreover, such aircraft of
suitable bomber type, like the Junkers 88, as continued to be built
were needed largely for the maintenance and still further expansion
of the night defences of the Reich. Consequently, with no stock of
reserve aircraft, bomber losses could not be replaced, and it was a
sadly depleted force that remained in France to resist the Allied
invasion. In Britain confidence in the ability of the air defences to
inflict further losses led to the conviction that German bombers could
do little to interfere with the growing concentrations of shipping,
material and troops. This was to be fully justified by subsequent
events. Such was the decline of the Luftwaffe's striking power that
the Allied preparations for invasion now moved rapidly towards
their climax almost unmolested from air attack. Things had certainly
changed since the summer of 1940.
CHAPTER 9
Prelude to Invasion
‘We shall be back,’ Winston Churchill had told the French in
June 1940 just after Dunkirk, and now, after long years of
doubt, disappointment, and prolonged debate at many conferences,
the fulfilment of that promise was at hand. An invasion of Western
Europe was to be ‘the supreme operation for 1944’. It would be
launched during May of that year. General Dwight D. Eisenhower
was appointed Supreme Commander on 6 December 1943, and a few
weeks later a directive from the Combined Chiefs of Staff defined
his task in these words: ‘You will enter the Continent of Europe and,
in conjunction with the other Allied nations, undertake operations
aimed at the heart of Germany and the destruction of her armed
forces.’
Eisenhower had already achieved notable success as Commander-
in-Chief in North Africa, where he had proved it was possible to
create a closely knit Anglo-American command organisation inspired
by a spirit of unity and common purpose which would override
international prejudices and inter-service rivalries. This welding
together of the Allied armies in the field was, in fact, Eisenhower's
unique contribution to victory, but he was also a great man,
peculiarly fitted for the role of Allied Supreme Commander. Universally trusted, he evoked spontaneous affection, respect, and loyalty
from political and military leaders alike, from the people of America
and Britain and from their troops in the field.
Eisenhower was fortunate in obtaining for his staff men whose
ability had already been demonstrated in previous campaigns,
notably Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur W. Tedder, who was
appointed Deputy Supreme Commander. Tedder had exactly the
qualities and the experience for this role. In Africa and the Mediterranean he had directed the Allied Air Forces with a brilliant hand.
The Americans liked and respected him and he understood what the
Army needed. Moreover, by character and experience he was well
fitted to resolve the inter-service and inter-Allied difficulties that
were bound to arise. Eisenhower's immediate subordinates were
Admiral Sir Bertram Ramsay, in charge of naval operations, and Air
Chief Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory, in command of the Allied
Expeditionary Air Forces. There was no corresponding appointment
of a Commander-in-Chief Allied Land Forces, but General Sir
Bernard Montgomery was given operational control over all land
forces in the assault phase, after which it was understood that
Eisenhower would assume direct control of land operations himself.
The early planning for operation overlord, as the invasion was
known, had been in the capable hands of Lieutenant-General Sir
Frederick Morgan. He had begun work in London during the dark
days of 1941 and had laboured steadily until March 1943, when
a bigger Anglo-American Planning Staff was formed under his
direction and given the code-name COSSAC - an abbreviation for
Chief of Staff to Supreme Allied Commander, at that time still
to be appointed. The tremendous task of detailed planning and
preparation for operations by land, sea, and air with all their
various ramifications was continued and in January 1944, when
Eisenhower took over, COSSAC became SHAEF - Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force. Specially erected buildings in
Bushey Park, near historic Hampton Court on the outskirts of
London, were now provided for a large part of the general staff
of SHAEF.
The original COSSAC plan for overlord envisaged an initial
assault by three divisions on the Caen-Bayeux sector of the Normandy
coast, to take place at the beginning of May 1944. Then would come
the seizure of Cherbourg and the Brittany ports and, after sufficient
build-up of forces, the capture of Paris and the Seine ports. The
Normandy coast had been selected as the most suitable area for the
landing only after careful consideration of all the difficulties
involved. An attack on the Pas de Calais would have offered the
shortest sea crossing and maximum opportunities for exploiting
Allied air capabilities, particularly where the short-range fighters
were concerned. But the Pas de Calais was the best-defended
region precisely because it was the most vulnerable. Moreover, the
Allied ground forces would find it difficult to expand from the
beaches to ports as distant as Antwerp and Le Havre. The region
near Caen was second best from the air point of view but far more
promising for the ground forces. This was the least-defended area
within Allied range, the surface was suitable for quick airfield
development, and it was near the excellent port of Cherbourg. Thus
the invasion planners had early come to regard the Normandy
beaches as the most suitable point for the assault, notwithstanding
their considerable distance from English bases. There was little
reason afterwards to regret this choice.
Important changes in the general plan for overlord were,
however, made early in February 1944. Eisenhower, strongly supported by Montgomery and other top leaders, thought that the three-division assault was insufficient and the initial landing on too narrow
a front; Morgan thought so, too, but he had been compelled to plan
on the basis of a fixed number of ships, landing craft and other
resources.
Unfortunately when, in August 1943, the Combined Chiefs of Staff had accepted the
COSSAC Plan and fixed the target date, they had not then and there made the decisions,
particularly those relating to the allocation of shipping resources, necessary to its success.
Eisenhower now refused to accept these limitations and
insisted on employing five divisions in the initial landing with
some extension of the front.
This enlarged assault scheme underlined a war-long problem of
the Western Allies – the shortage of landing craft – and in order
to allow more time for their arrival from British and American ship-
yards, it became necessary to postpone D Day until the beginning of
June. Another factor which made a later date desirable was, as
Eisenhower records,‘the high degree of dependence we were placing
on the preparatory effort of the air force.’ Plans for the bombing of
critical transportation centres in France were still under discussion,
and an early invasion would provide only a minimum opportunity
for such attack, whereas the improved weather expected for the
month of May would give the Allied Air Forces much more time and
better opportunity to impede the movement of German reserves and
demolish German defences along the coastline.
Nevertheless, acceptance of the later date was disappointing for
the Allied armies needed all the summer weather they could get for
the European campaign. Moreover, it now became necessary to delay
the complementary attack against southern France – Operation
anvil – which had been planned to take place simultaneously with
the invasion across the Channel. Even with the June date now fixed
for the landing in Normandy, it was found that there were not
enough landing craft and other facilities available to mount both the
cross-Channel and the Mediterranean attacks in the required strength
at the same time.
With overlord established on a broader basis and the date for its
launching more firmly fixed, Eisenhower and the various commanders
with their staffs went ahead with the involved and intricate planning
and preparation. Truly formidable was the amount of detailed work
required for the whole gigantic undertaking. There were all the
complicated arrangements for the moving of large armies and vast
quantities of material into the southern half of England, the setting
up of camps, airfields, dumps and transport centres, the provision
and assembly of many ships, the embarkation at congested ports
according to a strict schedule, and the safe conduct of the whole
expedition across the Channel. Then, above all, there was the planning in all their various aspects of the difficult and hazardous
landing on an exposed coast, the establishment of a bridge-
headbridgehead and the subsequent attack inland, with all the consequent problems of maintenance, supply and reinforcement. The
special tactical problems anticipated in the initial assault were many
and some proved most difficult of solution. The actual composition
of the naval assault forces was not settled until relatively late in the
period and this laid an additional burden upon the planning staffs.
Many other difficulties arose, some of them out of the complex
nature of the Anglo-American planning organisation itself, yet in
the end all was worked out in the greatest detail – for the actual
operations of the land, sea and air forces, for meeting their requirements in men and machines, equipment, ammunition, stores and
rations, and for the replacements that would be needed. Altogether,
the military preparations that were completed in Britain during the
spring of 1944 were the most elaborate in the history of warfare.
One particularly interesting feature of the operational planning
was the attention given to devising means of deceiving the Germans
as to the point and timing of the actual landings. The main problem
was to convince them that the intention was to strike directly across
the Channel at its narrowest point, against the stronghold of Calais.
Because of the obvious advantages that would accrue from a successful assault in this region, the Germans kept strong forces there
and fortified that section of the coast more strongly than any other.
The defences were, in fact, so strong that none of the Allied leaders
believed they would be breached except at terrific cost. A wide variety
of measures was therefore necessary to persuade the enemy that the
Allies would be tempted into this operation. Among the more
obvious methods employed were simulated concentrations of troops
in Kent and Sussex, fleets of dummy ships in the south-eastern ports,
landing exercises on the nearby beaches, increased wireless activity
and the judicious release of misleading information. In addition,
there were certain important air operations presently to be described.
The result exceeded expectations. Extraordinary credence was given
by the enemy Intelligence division to the evidence put at its disposal
and the whole German High Command, including Field Marshal
von Runstedt, Commander-in-Chief on the Western Front, became
more or less certain that the Pas de Calais was the Allied objective.
It is well to remember, however, that at this time the Germans
were denied effective air reconnaissance of the United Kingdom and
its adjacent waters. Had this not obtained, the deception might have
been much more difficult.
* * * * *
Throughout these months of military planning and preparation
the Allied Air Forces were in action, paving the way for this greatest
venture of the war. In the broad strategic sense, the air had already
made a notable contribution. The winning of the Battle of the
Atlantic had ensured the passage to the battlefront of a vast mass
of troops and supplies from the United States and Canada, while
the bomber offensive against Germany had undoubtedly weakened
the enemy war potential. By March 1944, however, large numbers
of bomber, fighter-bomber, fighter and reconnaissance aircraft were
operating from Britain on a wide range of missions more directly
connected with the actual landings in Normandy. The principal
Allied forces thus engaged were RAF Bomber and Coastal Com-
mands; the United States 8th Air Force with its component bomber
and fighter commands; and the Allied Expeditionary Air Force
which contained the RAF Second Tactical Air Force, the United
States 9th Air Force, and the Air Defence of Great Britain.
RAF Fighter Command had been divided on the formation of the Second Tactical
Air Force and this was the name given to the part that was to be retained for the defence
of the United Kingdom. However, the term proved unpopular and the old name was
revived in October 1944.
Control and co-ordination of the operations of these various
formations proved a difficult and delicate problem. Air Chief
Marshal Leigh-Mallory had been appointed to command the Allied
Expeditionary Air Force at the end of 1943, and he had planned
in anticipation that he would eventually be responsible for all air
operations in connection with the invasion. Unfortunately, however,
Leigh-Mallory had not won the confidence of the Americans, nor
had he always been successful in his dealings with the other services.
A resolute and aggressive commander of fighters in the earlier years,
he lacked the diplomatic touch. While holding strong opinions about
the use of air power, many of which were to be proved correct by
events, his method and manner of presenting his views tended to
arouse resentment. Admittedly, amidst the clash of personalities and
strong feelings regarding the control and direction of operations,
his position was a difficult one. But there was now some reluctance
to place the United States Strategic Air Forces and RAF Bomber
Command under his jurisdiction.
The employment and control of the heavy bomber forces were,
in fact, settled only after considerable controversy. At the beginning
of 1944 both Bomber Command and the United States Strategic Air
Forces were still directly responsible to the Combined Chiefs of
Staff, and their commanders, Air Marshal Harris and General Carl
Spaatz respectively, were reluctant to be diverted from their
appointed task of crippling German industry just when they believed
they were about to achieve decisive success. Both men were convinced
that Germany could be bombed into impotence, if not submission,
provided that heavy bombing attacks were maintained without
respite; any slackening or pause would give the enemy opportunity
to patch up existing damage and carry through his programme of
dispersal. In addition to these operational considerations, there was
substantial political opposition to any change of control.
Eisenhower, however, insisted that all air resources be employed
to ensure the success of the main Allied effort, overlord. His view
prevailed, and on 17 April 1944 the Combined Chiefs of Staff placed
the Strategic Air Forces under his ‘operational control’. Eisenhower
then delegated to Tedder the intricate task of co-ordinating the
efforts of the British and American heavy bombers and of Leigh-
Mallory's Allied Expeditionary Air Force. Thus, in the end, it was
Tedder who exercised the final authority of the Supreme Commander
in respect of air operations.
Tedder's appointment, however, did not entirely eradicate the
weakness of the air command. He had no staff and there was no
supreme air headquarters. Tedder had to co-ordinate as best he could
the efforts of three separate air forces, each with its own Commander-
in-Chief and each jealous of its own position. Nevertheless, out of
this complex and unwieldy arrangement he managed, by deft
direction, to ensure that the air forces achieved their tasks in the
combined operations with outstanding success.
During April Tedder decided that air operations could be best
planned and ordered from the Headquarters of AEAF, already
situated at the former Fighter Command Headquarters at Stanmore,
a pleasant suburb to the north of London. There, the commanders
of all strategic and tactical air forces subsequently met at daily
conferences and from there operational orders were co-ordinated.
An Advanced AEAF was created at the beginning of May in the
former No. 11 Fighter Group Headquarters at Uxbridge, and Air
Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham, the distinguished New Zealand
airman who had already achieved outstanding success in charge of
the Tactical Air Force in the Middle East, was appointed to com-
mand. It was a key post, for Coningham handled direct all units
of the British and American air forces allotted to him and became
the air commander with whom Montgomery worked while
Commander-in-Chief of all the land forces during the initial land
operations.
At Coningham's headquarters was a Combined Operations Room,
staffed by men from RAF Second Tactical Air Force and the United
States 9th Air Force, which controlled the fighter-bombers and light
and medium bombers of the two air forces. Also under Coningham's
command was the adjacent Combined Control Centre set up in the
famous 11 Group Operations Room from which Sir Keith Park
Air Chief Marshal Sir Keith R. Park, GCB, KBE, MC and bar, DFC, Croix de Guerre
(Fr.), Legion of Merit (US); RAF (retd); born Thames, 15 Jun 1892; in First World
War served Egypt, Gallipoli, and France with NZ Fd Arty, 1914–15, and Royal Fd
Arty, 1915–16; seconded RFC 1917; permanent commission RAF1919; SASO HQ
Fighter Command, 1938–40; commanded No. 11 Fighter Group during Battle of
Britain; AOC No. 23 Training Group, 1941; AOC RAF Egypt, 1942; AOC RAF Malta,
1942–43; AOC-in-C Middle East, 1944–45; Allied Air C-in-C, SE Asia, 1945–46.
had directed his squadrons in the Battle of Britain. There, using the
existing well-tried and efficient signal systems with expanded com-
munications, an Anglo-American staff controlled the initial fighter
operations and issued executive orders to the fighter-bombers.
Coningham also commanded a Combined Reconnaissance Centre to
handle the visual and photographic needs of both British and
American forces during the initial phases of overlord.
Coningham was the outstanding New Zealand personality in the
vast organisation now established for the planning of air operations,
but there were many men from the Dominion – veterans of earlier
campaigns – who held senior posts. Group Captain D. H. F. Barnett
and Wing Commander Player
Wing Commander J. H. Player, DSO, DFC; born Auckland, 13 Jul 1914; joined RAF1937; commanded No. 255 Sqdn, 1942; Personal Staff Officer, AC-in-C AEAF, 1944–45;
Staff duties, DG of P, Air Ministry, 1945; died of injuries received in flying accident,
8 Aug 1947.
were prominent members of Leigh-
Mallory's staff; Group Captain P. G. Jameson and Wing Commander
R. W. Baker were in charge of planning at No. 11 Fighter Group;
Group Captain S. C. Elworthy was at Bomber Command Headquarters and Group Captain Faville
Group Captain R. Faville, CBE; RAF; born Christchurch, 5 Aug 1908; permanent
commission RAF1932; commanded No. 42 Sqdn, 1940–41; Coastal Command Development Unit, 1941–42; Group Captain, Operations, HQ Coastal Command, 1944–45.
on the operational staff at
Coastal Command; Group Captain R. L. Kippenberger and Wing
Commander G. R. Magill on the operations staff of No. 2 Bomber
Group. Wing Commander Bagnall
Wing Commander D. R. Bagnall, DSO, DFC, DFC (US); born Auckland, 23 Sep 1918;
joined RAF1938; commanded No. 40 Sqdn, Middle East, 1943–44; Air Staff, No. 28
Group, AEAF, 1944; Air Branch, SHAEF, 1944–45.
was with a group of the Allied
Expeditionary Air Force, while Group Captain Richmond,
Group Captain R. C. Richmond; RAF (retd); born Wellington, 14 Mar 1905; joined
RAF1930; permanent commission RAF1935; signals duties, HQ Middle East, 1940–41;
HQ Fighter Command, 1943–44; commanded No. 70 Wing, 1944; commanded RAF
Station, Yatesbury, 1947–48; signals duties, No. 3 Group, 1948–49.
Group
Captain Smythe,
Group Captain D. W. Smythe; RAF; born Devonport, 11 Jul 1910; joined RAF1929;
served with DSM (Air), Air Ministry, 1941–44; commanded No. 24 MU 1945–47.
Group Captain A. Wall,
Group Captain A. Wall, OBE; RAF (retd); born Christchurch, 11 Jan 1908; Cranwell
cadet 1926–28; permanent commission RAF1928; equipment duties, DGE, Air Ministry
1941–43; Group Captain, equipment staff, RAF Staff College, 1943–44; Group Captain
D of Policy, Air Ministry, 1944–45.
and Wing Commander
Dawson
Wing Commander H. L. Dawson, DFC; RAF (retd); born Ellerslie, Auckland, 19 Feb
1914; joined RAF1934; commanded RAF Station, Hal Far, Malta, 1942–43; served
with D of AT, Air Ministry, 1943–44.
were engaged on various staff duties during this period.
The whole chain of command and the administrative organisation
for the various British and American air forces to be employed
was extremely complicated. However, in practice it functioned well,
not so much because of its structure or in spite of it, but rather
because of the good sense and fine spirit of British and American
commanders, particularly when working together in the field of
operations, and the intense conviction all down the line that the
invasion had to succeed. ‘It will, I think, be a considerable time,’
General Morgan has observed, ‘before anybody will be able to set
down in the form of a diagram the channels through which General
Eisenhower's orders reached his aircraft.’ But reach them they did
and to good purpose.
* * * * *
Air superiority was the principal prerequisite for a successful
assault of Europe from the west and the winning of air superiority
had long been a cardinal point of the air planning. Operations to
ensure the necessary ascendancy over the Luftwaffe were already in
progress and Tedder was confident that this would be gained before
the assault was launched. The long-term strategic bombing plan,
originated by the Combined Chiefs of Staff in June 1943 and directed
against enemy aircraft production and assembly by the US Strategic
Air Forces
United States 8th Air Force operating from Britain and US 15th Air Force from the
Mediterranean.
and RAF Bomber Command, had already inflicted severe
blows on the supply and maintenance organisation of the Luftwaffe.
Moreover, the heavy daylight raids were achieving a steady attrition
of the German fighter forces. Indeed, largely as a result of the
Allied day and night bombing attack the Luftwaffe, which had been
used with exceptional efficiency to blast a path across Europe for
the German armies in 1940, was now hopelessly unbalanced and
incapable of sustained offensive action.
Parallel with these attacks by the strategic air forces, a campaign
of day and night intruding against enemy airfields designed to
hamper German training schedules as well as to destroy enemy
machines in the air was now being waged by aircraft of the Allied
Expeditionary Air Force with very great success. Raids on operational airfields in the west were also causing considerable destruction
of buildings and facilities.
The attacks on forward German air bases were to be intensified
as D Day approached in order to neutralise the considerable number
of airfields within 150 miles of Caen. Bomber bases located in
France, Belgium, Holland, and western Germany within range of the
assault area and of ports of embarkation in the United Kingdom
were also selected as targets. But to avoid giving any indication of the
area selected for the Allied landings, the forward airfields in a long
stretch of enemy territory were to be attacked. In the event thirty-four of the more important air bases received 6717 tons of bombs
from 3915 sorties between 11 May and D Day. The result was
impressive. ‘… we were afforded immunity from enemy air reconnaissance during the vital period,’ writes General Montgomery.
‘… moreover, not one single attack was carried out by the German
Air Force on the assault forces during the sea passage or at any time
on the beaches during D-day.’
Normandy to the Baltic (Hutchinson), p. 22.
Next to the winning of air superiority, the disruption of German
communications and channels of reinforcement and supply was the
most important task set the Allied Air Forces, and to this end plans
had been prepared for crippling the French and Belgian railways.
From experience in Italy it had been discovered that a whole railway
system could be paralysed if attacks were concentrated on centres
of maintenance and repair. Primary targets, therefore, were railway
workshops and locomotive sheds, the destruction of which would
cause long-term and widespread dislocation which the enemy could
not rapidly make good. Since most of these centres were alongside
major junctions and marshalling yards, it was possible to strike
simultaneously at both the current traffic and capital equipment of
the railways. When this process of attrition was well advanced the
main attack would be switched to locomotives, lines and bridges,
paying special attention in the final week to the road and rail bridges
over the Seine, inflicting, it was hoped, damage so severe that the
already weakened repair services would be unable to cope with it.
Enemy forces moving towards Normandy would then have to take
to the roads at a considerable distance from the battle area and so
provide excellent targets for the fighters and fighter-bombers.
While the primary purpose of the rail offensive was to reduce
the enemy's capacity for moving troops and supplies, it was important
that it should also contribute to the deception plan. By a fortunate
accident of geography a single bombardment programme could
achieve both objectives. The chief German supply routes to western
Normandy were either extensions of, or overshoots from, lines
which served the Pas de Calais or the Le Havre–Amiens area. They
ran either through Paris or across the Seine, west of the capital.
Thus the bombing of repair depots and junctions between the Seine
and the Meuse could disrupt German communications with
Normandy almost as effectively as attacks directed at the region
between the Seine and Loire. Moreover, the general paralysis of the
railway system could best be achieved by attacks on targets in the
Region Nord, for it was here that the principal maintenance
facilities were located. Nor would the bombing of the Seine bridges
betray the Allied intention since this would appear as a last act in
an attempt to isolate the Pas de Calais.
For the execution of this plan a team of railway experts chose
eighty key targets in northern France and Belgium, thirty-nine of
which were to be dealt with by RAF Bomber Command, twenty-three by US 8th Air Force, and eighteen by AEAF aircraft. Attacks
by heavy and medium bombers on these centres were to be maintained up to and after D Day and supplemented by fighter and
fighter-bomber attacks designed to cut lines and halt or destroy traffic
on the move. This would be the first stage of a campaign which,
as it spread eastward, would ultimately affect the whole of the
German war effort.
But it was only after an exhaustive examination of other possibilities that these proposals were accepted and finally implemented.
Indeed, the whole idea of drastically reducing the rail capacity of
western Europe by bombing had brought about a protracted contro-
versy. There were fears lest this ambitious scheme should jeopardise
the attainment of air supremacy before D Day. It would also delay
the opening of the oil campaign which certain air leaders felt – and
events were to prove them right – would prove well-nigh decisive
in the defeat of Germany. Moreover many people, among them
Winston Churchill and members of the British Cabinet, were
appalled at the estimates of French and Belgian civilian casualties
likely to result when the rail centres were bombed. The various
differences of opinion were not along national or service lines but
rather criss-cross between them. However, convinced by Tedder of
the importance of carrying out the plan, Eisenhower gradually overcame the various doubts and hesitations by insisting resolutely on its
sober military necessity. On 5 April 1944 he wrote to the British
Prime Minister:
We must never forget that one of the fundamental factors leading to the
decision for undertaking ‘Overlord’ was the conviction that our overpowering Air Force would make feasible an operation which might otherwise be
considered extremely hazardous, if not foolhardy …. The weight of the
argument that has been brought against the bombing of transportation centres
in occupied territories is heavy indeed; but I and my military advisers have
become convinced that the bombing of these centres will increase our chances
for success in the critical battle …. I personally believe that estimates of
probable casualties have been grossly exaggerated.
Quoted by Winston Churchill in The Second World War (Cassell), Vol. V, p. 466.
Finally it was agreed that the attacks had to be executed as laid
down, with the hope that the measures adopted for warning the
population would be effective in minimising casualties. In the outcome the efficacy of the rail bombing plan as preparation for the
ground attack was clearly proved. Moreover, not only were the
civilian casualties a small fraction of those originally estimated, but
the French nation as a whole accepted their necessity and developed
no antagonism toward the Allied forces as a result.
Throughout the months before D Day the air forces also had
to deal with the threatened German assault on the United Kingdom
with flying bombs and rockets. Attacks on the launching sites –
known as ‘Crossbow’ operations – had begun in December 1943,
and they continued to demand a considerable diversion of effort.
However, the bombing, although it did not of itself succeed in
eliminating the menace, was to be fully justified, for not only did
the original scheme have to be abandoned by the Germans but their
subsequent attempts were also delayed. And there is little doubt
that it was this considerable delay in the inauguration of the enemy's
offensive that robbed it of any major military effect.
Particularly valuable work was to be done during this period by
the Allied reconnaissance squadrons. Previously, the selection of the
actual invasion area had only been made after prolonged air reconnaissance of the whole of the West European coast. Now, after the
decision to land in Normandy, innumerable sorties were flown so
that detailed information and complete photographic cover could
be secured. In February nearly a hundred small areas in Normandy
were surveyed from the air to select suitable airfield sites for use
when the air forces moved on to the Continent. In March beaches,
ports, and coastal batteries and other defences, airfield facilities,
V-weapon sites, dumps and other military installations, radar posts
and countless other targets were subjected to the scrutiny of air
reconnaissance. By May the whole of the European coastline from
Brest to Den Helder had been photographed, elaborate target
dossiers compiled, and a mass of information provided for the land
and sea forces.
The principal task allotted to RAF Coastal Command during these
months of final preparations was the protection of shipping in the
Atlantic sea lanes along which large numbers of troops and vast
quantities of equipment were now reaching the United Kingdom.
This duty was to be faithfully carried out, and Allied shipping
losses in the areas swept by air patrols were to be negligible. The
attack on German sea communications in European waters was also
maintained with marked success. In addition, Coastal Command
continued to provide efficient photographic, meteorological, and air-sea rescue services.
Such, in brief, were the military plans and the assigned role of the
air forces in preparation for the invasion of Western Europe. It is
now necessary to describe in more detail some of the many opera-
tionsoperations in which New Zealanders serving with the various RAF Commands played their part.
* * * * *
Royal Air Force Bomber Command made a major contribution
to the preparations for overlord. First there was the campaign
against German industry and air power; then came a series of
devastating attacks on key railway centres, and finally a number of
effective raids on coastal defences, supply bases, and airfields.
The long campaign against German cities and industrial areas had
reached a climax during the winter months in the Battle of Berlin,
and then, in conjunction with the United States Air Force, Bomber
Command had turned its attention primarily to the enemy's aircraft
industry. The operations of February 1944, which included the ‘Big
Week’ towards the end of the month, have already been described
in a previous chapter. They were followed in March by raids on the
aircraft production centres of Frankfurt, Nuremberg and Stuttgart.
Frankfurt was attacked twice by a total of 1680 aircraft; the raids
on Nuremberg and Stuttgart, by 860 and 750 bombers respectively,
were also heavy. Berlin, Essen, and the important communications
centre of Aachen were further targets for severe attacks. In the
following month British bombers flew in force to the German cities
of Brunswick, Friedrichshafen, Munich and Schweinfurt - all of
which were closely associated with German aircraft production.
Targets in the Ruhr and Rhineland were also heavily bombed on
several nights and there were attacks against aircraft factories and
repair centres in France, Belgium, and Norway.
In many of these raids the bombers wrought widespread destruc-
tion. Photographs taken after the heavy March raids on Frankfurt
enabled the Air Ministry to report ‘severe devastation in the administrative and commercial centre of the city which for all practical
purposes has been destroyed. From there the devastation spreads to
the west and east and is particularly marked in the western area
where there were numerous factories and warehouses. Grain silos
and warehouses along the river front have gone. One huge ware-
house, with a capacity of some 20,000 tons burnt for five days.
There were direct hits on the main railway station, large numbers
of goods sheds have been destroyed and repair shops gutted ….’
The attack by 320 Lancasters against Friedrichshafen towards the
end of April was described as particularly effective, ‘all six factories
of importance within this small town being almost completely
devastated.’ At Munich the damage was regarded as being ‘on a scale
seldom achieved in relation to the size of the force employed.’ The
pilot of a Mosquito who flew over the town just after the last of the
265 bombers had left saw ‘an enormous pall of smoke nearly four
miles high.’ Diving through the dense clouds of smoke, he found
‘huge fires in the city and whole blocks of buildings ablaze.’ The
heavy raids on the bomb-scarred cities of Cologne, Dortmund,
Duisburg, Dusseldorf, and Essen also caused further widespread
destruction.
Occasionally, however, difficulties which had long dogged the
night-bomber crews intervened to upset the concentration of attack.
The force of six hundred bombers which flew to Karlsruhe on the
night of 24 April had to battle against strong winds and fly through
electric storms and clouds heavy with ice. ‘Large chunks of ice broke
off the mainplanes and crashed against the sides of the aircraft
while St. Elmo's fire streaked off every odd point,’ reads a typical
report. Over the target, too, there was considerable cloud and the
bombing was scattered. Two nights later, when a strong force of
Lancasters and Halifaxes attacked Schweinfurt, rough weather and
high winds caused a considerable displacement of the bombing. The
first markers fell south of the target and were followed by others
still further from the aiming point.
But even if the bombing was not always precise, the weight of
attack against Germany was certainly heavy. In one period of eight
nights during April Bomber Command flew a total of 5757 sorties
and dropped 17,610 tons of bombs, and on five nights forces of
over one thousand bombers were despatched. Moreover, the RAF
raids were now opposed by a steadily increasing force of German
night fighters, and this driving of the Luftwaffe more and more on
to the defensive was a direct contribution to the achievement of
Allied air superiority.
Bomber Command opened its campaign against enemy rail communications with an attack by 260 bombers on the marshalling yards
at Trappes, 20 miles west of Paris, on the night of 6 March.
Reconnaissance photographs, taken shortly after the attack, showed
extremely heavy damage throughout the yards with a particularly
large concentration of craters in the main reception sidings. Wreckage and derailed trucks lay in confusion on all sides. All the tracks
of the main electrified line between Paris and Chartres were cut
and there was widespread damage to installations and depots. Two
months later the marshalling yard was still under repair.
Of other attacks in March and early April, some of the most
successful were those on Paris-la Chappelle, Charleroi-St. Martin,
Paris-Juvisy, Laon and Aachen; at each of these centres the locomotive servicing and maintenance facilities were rendered almost,
if not completely, useless and great havoc was wrought in the
marshalling yards. At Paris-Noisy le Sec, the whole railway
complex was almost annihilated. After the raid on Vaires, also in
the Paris area, photographs showed ‘over two hundred craters on
one railway siding while in another siding two long depressions in
the ground alone remained to show where two ammunition trains
had previously stood.’ Other damaging attacks in this early period
were made on Ottignies, Rouen, Namur, Lens and Tergnier.
These first raids on rail centres were almost unopposed by fighters,
but the vital nature of the targets being attacked soon caused the
Germans to make radical changes in their defensive system. The
network of visual and radar beacons used for the assembly of night
fighters was extended into France and Belgium, with a corresponding redistribution of the night-fighter force to bases as far west as
the mouth of the Seine. Eventually, as a result of this redeployment
and the introduction of improved airborne radar, the enemy was able
to intercept bomber forces making quite shallow penetrations over
the Continent. In May, when the light summer nights made interception easier, the casualty rate rose sharply. However, by employing smaller forces simultaneously on a number of targets and by
making the attacks of short duration, losses were kept within
reasonable bounds.
Bomber Command's initial attacks on the marshalling yards and
railway centres were made without any special changes in tactics.
Markers were laid by Oboe-equipped Mosquitos of the Pathfinder
Force which flew over at great height just as in the attacks on
German cities; then the main force flew in to drop its high explosives.
The only difference was that in order to avoid casualties among
French civilians, crews were told not to bomb unless they could see
the markers clearly. However, before long a Master Bomber, with
a deputy in case of accident or casualty, was sent to direct each
attack. It was his task to check the position of the markers dropped
by pathfinder aircraft and then direct the main force to bomb the
most accurately placed of these markers. In addition, ‘offset marking’
was introduced. This was a technique developed by Lancaster crews
of No. 5 Bomber Group to overcome the problem of target markers
being obscured by smoke - a difficulty which frequently occurred in
the later stages of a raid. Some well-defined point near the target
was chosen and clearly marked; then from this point crews made
a timed run over the target and released their bombs. As a result
of these improvements, much greater economy and precision of
attack were achieved.
Since most of the railway centres in France were defended by few
anti-aircraft guns the bombers were able to attack at low level,
which also made for increased accuracy in bombing. Indeed, the
majority of the subsequent raids on marshalling yards proved to be
extremely accurate, with such concentration that the bomb craters
often overlapped each other in the target area which was churned
up into a landscape of fantastic desolation similar to the well-remembered ‘No Man's Land’ of the First World War.
At the end of March the bombed railway lines were often
repaired within a few days, but before the end of April it was taking
more than a week to get them restored and by the middle of May
the accumulation of wreckage was often so vast and extensive that
even important routes were closed for weeks after an attack. By
that time many of the major marshalling yards and large depots
for the servicing and maintenance had been wrecked and little
could be done to restore them owing to the serious shortage of
cranes. A growing paralysis spread over the rail networks of the
Region Nord, west of a line Paris-Amiens-Boulogne and south
Belgium, and in this area all the principal routes were at one time
or another interrupted.
During the last days of April and throughout May, Bomber
Command maintained a heavy scale of attack. In the last week of
April Aulnoye, Villeneuve St. George, Acheres, Montzen, St.
Ghislain, Arras and Bethune were all attacked. During May the
heaviest attacks were made on Mantes-Gassicourt, Liege, Ghent,
Courtrai, Lille, Hasselt, Louvain, Boulogne, Orleans, Tours, Le
Mans, Metz, Mulhouse, Rheims, Troyes and Charleroi. Photographic
interpretation continued to show the devastating effect on the centres
attacked, and other intelligence sources confirmed this evidence as
well as supplying indications of damage to signals and ancillary
services, damage which did not always appear in photographs.
In order to extend the paralysis inflicted on the regions north and
west of Paris, attacks were made in the period immediately before
D Day on the eastern routes to Paris and the important alternative
routes round the south of that city. Attacks on these centres were,
however, considerably restricted by the necessity of avoiding heavy
civilian casualties or damage to historic buildings. A typical example
of this restriction was furnished by the important junction of Le
Bourget which, because of the strong probability of bombing causing
heavy civilian casualties, was not attacked at all. Nevertheless, the
destruction and dislocation caused by the bombing raids in this final
stage proved extremely effective, as subsequent events were to
demonstrate.
Altogether, in the three months before D Day, only four of the
eighty special targets escaped serious damage and traffic over the
whole of France declined by 70 per cent. Of the thirty-seven special
targets assigned to Bomber Command all were assessed as ‘very
seriously damaged’, and in almost every case ‘to such an extent that
no further attacks were necessary until vital repairs had been
affected.’ Interesting evidence of the success of the whole rail campaign was discovered after the war at the headquarters of Region
Nord in Brussels. There the Germans had kept an elaborate chart
showing the weekly state of traffic lines and rolling stock, and on
this chart from the end of March the graphs went steadily down
until at last, towards the end of May, the Germans had abandoned
the attempt to keep account of the damage and destruction.
Simultaneously with the last attacks on rail targets, Bomber Command had begun attacking coastal fortifications. Here again the
main problem was to keep the enemy guessing where the actual
landings were to be made, and the only way of doing this was by
the rather extravagant method of bombing at least two coastal
batteries or defence works elsewhere for every one that was attacked
on the actual invasion coast of Normandy. The guns were very small
targets and many were enclosed in thick concrete casemates, but the
casemates for some were still under construction. It was considered
that where the building of casemates was completed aerial bombing
could do very little harm, but in one attack at least this opinion
proved wrong. On the night of 28 May sixty-four Lancasters guided
by seven Pathfinder Mosquitos attacked the coastal battery at St.
Martin de Varreville, and a captured German report said that after
several direct hits on one of the casemates there it ‘apparently burst
open and then collapsed.’ In other attacks, even when the casemate
itself was undamaged, the guns were often thrown out of alignment
or their field of fire restricted by mounds of earth thrown up during
the bombing, while command posts, fire director gear, and signal
equipment were smashed and the batteries rendered ineffective. By
D Day Bomber Command had dropped over 9200 tons of bombs on
coastal batteries between Boulogne and Cherbourg.
In addition to these raids on fortifications and railways British
bomber crews attacked a number of other military objectives. During
May the military depots at Bourg Leopold in Belgium and at Mailly
le Camp near Rheims were wrecked. An impressive account of the
attack on Mailly le Camp, which was a large tank training school
as well as the Headquarters of 21 Panzer Division, is contained in
the report of the officer commanding this depot. ‘The main concen-
tration,’ he writes, ‘was accurately aimed at the most important
building …. In that part of the camp which was destroyed the
concentration of bombs was so great that not only did the splinter
proof trenches receive direct hits but even the bombs that missed
choked them up and made the sides cave in.’ Five large ammunition
dumps in France used by the German Army and Air Force were
also attacked during May, and in April Bomber Command destroyed
the large explosive works at St. Medard-en-Jalles, near Bordeaux.
There were also attacks on wireless and radar stations. Four of
these small and difficult targets were allotted to Bomber Command
and the raids which were carried out towards the end of May were
indeed triumphs of precision bombing. At Boulogne-Mt. Couple
at least seventy heavy bombs fell on the target area, which was only
some 300 yards long and 150 yards wide. Few of the transmitters
on this site survived the attack and only three were subsequently
identified in operation. At another station near Dieppe the aerial
masts were all demolished and most of the buildings received direct
hits. At Cherbourg–Urville the centre of a very neat bomb pattern
coincided almost exactly with the centre of the target area, and the
destruction of this particular station, which was the headquarters
of the German Air Force signals intelligence service in north-west
France, may well have been an important contributory factor to the
lack of enemy air reaction to the assault. Enemy airfields attacked
by Bomber Command during May included those at Montdidier,
Tours, Rennes, Nantes and Brest.
Typical of many eventful flights during this period was the
experience of Flight Sergeant Gibson
Flying Officer A. Gibson, DFM; born Westport, 7 Jan 1923; apprentice fitter-turner;
joined RNZAFApr 1942.
and his crew during their
sortie to Mailly le Camp in Lancaster ‘K for King’ of No. 166
Squadron. Shortly after bombs had been dropped, the bomber was
attacked by a Messerschmitt 110; the upper turret was smashed, the
controls damaged, petrol tanks punctured, and an engine put out of
action. Return fire drove the fighter off but it continued to shadow
at a distance, taking ‘pot shots’ at the Lancaster as opportunity
offered. Eventually the German came in again, only to meet accurate
fire from the bomber's rear turret. There was a sudden explosion,
and the gunner saw the Messerschmitt burst into flames, dive, and
explode on the ground. The Lancaster then began its flight home
with Gibson struggling to maintain control and conserve fuel whilst
his flight engineer worked frantically to link up the tanks. At last
the English coast came in sight but, with the petrol almost gone,
it seemed unlikely they would be able to make a safe landing so
Gibson ordered his crew to crash positions. Then followed that
agonising period of suspense so well known to many crews. All
listened intently to the drone of the engines, waiting against hope
for them to falter as the tanks ran dry. A parachute which had
opened during the combat lay strewn on the floor of the aircraft.
Within a minute or two all three engines spluttered and stopped.
But the lights of an airfield now appeared in the distance and Gibson
began a glide approach. To watchers on the ground it seemed that
the Lancaster was bound to crash into the control tower – its
occupants hastily took shelter – but at the last minute the bomber
cleared the tower, crossed the runway, and came to rest on the airfield without harm.
Gibson was one of the relatively large contingent of New Zealand
pilots, navigators, bomb aimers, wireless operators, and air gunners
who flew with Bomber Command in this pre-D Day period. There
was also a representative group of men from the Dominion working
on the ground who gave faithful service in support of the air
operations. Among senior officers, Air Vice-Marshal C. R. Carr
continued in command of No. 4 Bomber Group, while Air Commodore A. McKee was now in charge of the large bomber base at
Mildenhall, Suffolk, which controlled four bomber stations with five
operational squadrons and various other units. Group Captain L. E.
Jarman commanded the Pathfinder Station at Wyton, Huntingdon,
and Group Captain G. J. Grindell the airfield at Fiskerton, near
Nottingham, from which Lancasters operated. Early in April 1944
Group Captain Elworthy took charge of the large base at Wadding-
ton, Lincolnshire, with four bomber stations and five operational
squadrons under his control.
With the Pathfinder squadrons, New Zealand airmen continued
to play a prominent part. Wing Commander J. F. Barron, who had
already achieved a fine record of service as captain of pathfinder
aircraft, was now leading a Lancaster squadron. He also acted as
Master Bomber on several raids. In one such raid early in May, says
an official report, ‘his determination and courage in directing the
attack were largely responsible for the success achieved. Disregarding
the defences he flew below five thousand feet and directed the bombing from a very low level in order to obtain maximum precision.’ It
was while acting as Master Bomber in a late May attack on Le Mans
marshalling yards that Barron lost his life. It was his seventy-eighth
operation with Bomber Command and his thirty-second with the
Pathfinders. Another outstanding leader with the Pathfinder Force
was Wing Commander Watts,
Wing Commander S. D. Watts, DSO, DFC; born Morrinsville, 3 Mar 1916; hardware
assistant; joined RNZAFOct 1940; commanded No. 692 Sqdn, 1944; killed on air
operations, 10 Jul 1944.
who now led a Mosquito squadron
with conspicuous success. In a long and distinguished career with
Bomber Command, Watts survived many hazardous missions only
to lose his life early in July 1944 when his Mosquito was shot down
during a raid on Berlin.
Among senior captains with the Pathfinder Force, Squadron
Leader Heney
Squadron Leader H. W. B. Heney, DSO; born Kaiapoi, 12 Aug 1920; motor-vehicle
instructor; joined RNZAFOct 1939; killed on air operations, 27 May 1944.
was prominent in operations with No. 582 Lancaster
Squadron. On one sortie to the Ruhr his bomber was set on fire over
the target by a shower of incendiaries dropped from an aircraft
above; then, after a long and difficult return flight, came attack by a
German fighter intruding over England, and finally a long wait over
base while an obstructed runway was cleared. Heney, described by a
senior officer as ‘an outstanding member of a gallant squadron’ was
lost with his crew in a raid on the German airfield at Rennes towards
the end of May 1944.
Squadron Leader McMillan,
Wing Commander B. W. McMillan, DSO, DFC, AFC; born Stratford, 24 Oct 1912;
clerk-engineer; joined RAF1937; commanded No. 227 Sqdn, 1945; killed in flying accident, 30 Jan 1948.
with a long and successful career in
India and Burma, and Flight Lieutenant Cochrane,
Squadron Leader A. W. G. Cochrane, DSO, DFC and two bars; born Rawene, 10 Oct
1916; shop assistant; joined RNZAFSep 1940.
who had earlier
completed a tour of operations with a Wellington squadron, now
captained Lancasters. Both men were subsequently to act as Master
Bomber on many raids and gain further distinction. Other outstanding pathfinder captains were Squadron Leader Horton,
Wing Commander T. W. Horton, DSO, DFC and bar; born Masterton, 29 Dec 1919;
law clerk; joined RNZAFOct 1939.
who continued with No. 105 Mosquito Squadron, Flight Lieutenant V. S.
Moore and Flight Lieutenant Holdaway,
Flight Lieutenant E. A. Holdaway, DFC and bar; born Carterton, 8 Jan 1918; storeman;
joined RNZAFDec 1940.
both of whom also flew
Mosquitos. Flight Lieutenant Breckon
Flight Lieutenant I. O. Breckon, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 6 Jan 1916; joined
RNZAFApr 1940; transferred RAF1947.
and Flight Lieutenant
Hartley
Squadron Leader R. Hartley, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 5 Oct 1909; store manager;
joined RAFSep 1940.
of No. 109 Mosquito Squadron, and Flying Officer J. M.
Smith,
Squadron Leader J. M. Smith, DFC and bar; born Frankton, 14 Jan 1915; plasterer;
joined RNZAFDec 1940.
who captained a Lancaster of No. 97 Squadron, also
achieved a fine record of service. Another prominent Lancaster
captain was Flight Lieutenant Verran
Squadron Leader J. V. Verran, DFC and bar; born Waipawa, 9 Dec 1915; joined RAFAug 1939; p.w. 27 Aug 1944.
of No. 83 Squadron, who had
operated in France and over Germany during the first year of war.
Among experienced navigators now with the Pathfinder squadrons
were Flight Lieutenant Dill,
Flight Lieutenant T. G. Dill, DFM; born Auckland, 28 Jun 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFJun 1942.
who had previously flown with the
New Zealand bomber squadron, Flight Lieutenant Galbraith,
Flight Lieutenant A. R. Galbraith, DFC; born Auckland, 20 Apr 1918; clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
who
had a long period of service with Wellingtons, and Flying Officer
Matheson,
Flying Officer A. A. Matheson, DFM; born Carterton, 23 May 1915; sheep farmer;
joined RNZAFMay 1941; killed on air operations, 10 Jul 1944.
who had been with No. 218 Stirling Squadron.
Matheson was lost in July 1944 when flying as navigator to Wing
Commander Watts.
In the main bomber force Wing Commanders Maling,
Wing Commander J. R. Maling, AFC; born Timaru, 5 Nov 1913; joined RAF1934;
transferred RNZAFJul 1945; commanded No. 27 Sqdn, India, 1940–41; No. 619
Sqdn, 1944; p.w. 26 Jul 1944.
Nelson,
Wing Commander J. D. Nelson, DFC; born Wellington, 3 Jan 1914; Cranwell cadet
1932–33; permanent commission RAF1933; commanded No. 12 Sqdn, 1944; RAF
Station, Sandtuft, 1944–45.
and St. John were now in charge of RAF squadrons. Maling had
seen long service with the air arm, much of it in India where he had
been posted shortly after joining the RAF. In India he flew with a
bomber squadron; then he spent over three years as a test pilot and
became well known for his efficiency and wide technical knowledge.
He also commanded a bomber squadron for a long period and served
as a flying instructor before returning to the United Kingdom, where
he held several appointments before taking control of No. 619
Lancaster Squadron. Nelson, a Cranwell cadet, had served with a
bomber squadron in Aden before the war; then he specialised in
armament duties and went to Canada to assist in the Empire Air
Training Scheme. He assumed command of his old squadron, now
equipped with Lancasters, early in March 1944. St. John, who had
already distinguished himself in bomber operations, was now in
charge of No. 103 Lancaster Squadron. He remained in this post for
almost a year and by the end of the war had completed a third tour
of operations.
A Halifax squadron engaged on what were known as ‘special
duties’ – the dropping of agents and supplies to the resistance movements in Europe – was now led by Wing Commander A. H. C.
Boxer, who had been engaged in these duties over a long period.
Boxer directed the diverse activities of his unit, which included many
Polish crews, with exceptional ability, and took part himself in
many long and hazardous flights over enemy-occupied territories.
Squadron Leaders Calvert,
Squadron Leader R. O. Calvert, DFC and two bars; born Cambridge, 31 Oct 1913;
wool classer; joined RNZAFDec 1940.
Hegman,
Squadron Leader J. A. Hegman, DSO, DFC; born Auckland, 23 Jun 1916; farmer;
joined RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 15 Feb 1944.
Hogg,
Squadron Leader R. J. K. Hogg, DSO, DFC; born Milton, 9 Jun 1916; clerk; joined
RAFDec 1938.
Lamason,
Squadron Leader P. J. Lamason, DFC and bar; born Napier, 15 Sep 1918; stock inspector;
joined RNZAFSep 1940; p.w. 8 Jun 1944.
and
Miller
Squadron Leader D. Miller, DSO, DFC; born Auckland, 12 Nov 1917; clerk; joined
RNZAFJul 1940.
were prominent during this period as senior captains and
flight commanders. Calvert for example, continued a notable career
with No. 630 Squadron, while Hogg, who had been with the New
Zealand Bomber Squadron in the early days of the war, now
completed a third tour of operations with No. 90 Squadron. Hegman,
after a successful period with No. 7 Squadron, lost his life in a raid
on Berlin.
With No. 617 Lancaster Squadron, which often operated independently on particularly hazardous missions, Squadron Leader J. L.
Munro and Flight Lieutenant R. S. D. Kearns won distinction as
captains of aircraft and Flight Lieutenant W. J. M. Barclay as
navigator. All three men were veterans of the Pathfinder Force.
Their squadron, which had become famous overnight with the raid
on the Ruhr dams in 1943, was now led by Wing Commander
Cheshire who, like his predecessor Guy Gibson, was a magnificent
pilot and courageous leader. On completion of his fourth operational tour in July 1944, Cheshire was awarded the Victoria Cross.
He was one of the few outstanding British bomber pilots to survive
the war.
Throughout this period New Zealand aircrews with Bomber
Command maintained their reputation for skill and determination
in operations. Typically, Flight Lieutenant Sparks,
Flight Lieutenant M. J. Sparks, DFC; born Christchurch, 22 Feb 1917; salesman; joined
RNZAFDec 1941.
a Lancaster
captain with No. 15 Squadron, had with his crew fought off attacks
by enemy fighters on five occasions. Flight Lieutenant Johnston
Flight Lieutenant M. Johnston, DFC; born Hobart, Tasmania, 11 Sep 1920; civil
servant; joined RNZAFJan 1942.
was
another captain with a fine record in No. 15 Squadron. While
approaching Friedrichshafen on one raid his Lancaster was damaged
almost simultaneously by fire from a night fighter and flak. Un-
deterred, he had continued to the target and dropped his bombs.
Pilot Officer Nicklin,
Flight Lieutenant A. E. Nicklin, DFC; born Rotorua, 12 Nov 1915; dairy farmer;
joined RNZAFApr 1942.
who captained a Lancaster of No. 57
Squadron, had a particularly difficult sortie when sent to attack
Schweinfurt. He was circling the target waiting instructions to bomb
when his aircraft was subjected to a furious onslaught by a fighter,
during which his rear gunner was seriously wounded and the mid-upper gunner baled out. With both turrets out of action, intercommunication useless and controls damaged, the bomber was in a
precarious position. Nevertheless, Nicklin remained in the target
area until ordered to bomb, when, despite attack by a second fighter,
he succeeded in making a good attack. He then flew the crippled
bomber back to England and made a safe landing at a strange
airfield.
In an attack on Frankfurt during March, Flight Sergeant Marriott
Pilot Officer C. R. Marriott, DFM; born Christchurch, 25 Sep 1923; laboratory assistant;
joined RNZAFMar 1942; killed on air operations, 11 May 1944.
of No. 626 Squadron was on the final approach to the target when
his Lancaster was extensively damaged by a Junkers 88. The enemy
machine returned for the ‘kill’. The bomber received further hits
but, following skilful evasive tactics by Marriott and spirited return
fire from his rear gunner, the Junkers was finally driven off. Marriott
pressed home his attack and then set course for base but petrol
shortage forced him to land at an advanced airfield.
Flight Lieutenant Fabian
Flight Lieutenant J. C. K. Fabian, DFC and bar; born Wellington, 12 Mar 1909; barrister;
joined RNZAFJul 1941.
had a notable career as navigation
leader of No. 15 Squadron. On one sortie to Dusseldorf during
April his Lancaster was badly damaged by a Messerschmitt 109
when a flak shell exploded underneath. The bomb aimer and wireless operator were mortally wounded and fire broke out in the fuse-
lage. Fabian extinguished the flames and rendered first aid and
administered morphia to the injured men. Ordering a slightly
wounded man to take over the wireless set, he then helped his
captain navigate the bomber back to England.
A bomb aimer with a remarkable record was Flight Sergeant K.
Smith,
Flying Officer K. Smith, DFM; born Westport, 13 Jul 1923; engineer; joined RNZAFMar 1942.
of No. 158 Halifax Squadron, who in a series of seventeen
operations was to return with no fewer than thirteen photographs
of his aiming points.
Two captains of Lancaster bombers, Pilot Officer Speirs
Flying Officer A. R. Speirs, DFC; born Nelson, 13 Apr 1923; clerk; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
of No. 7
Squadron and Flight Sergeant Brown
Pilot Officer L. J. S. Brown, MM; born Milton, 21 Mar 1918; school teacher; joined
RNZAFFeb 1942.
of No. 620 Squadron, survived
remarkable experiences at this time. Sent to bomb the marshalling
yards at Chambly, north of Paris, one night early in May, Speirs was
just turning away from the target when his aircraft received a direct
hit. ‘The stick flew out of my hand and both the starboard engines
and the starboard wing tank caught fire. The Lancaster went into a
steep dive out of control so I gave the order to jump. Then I was
thrown against the side of the fuselage and knocked unconscious.
When I came to I had fallen through the perspex roof and was
hanging on my harness upside down ….’ Speirs landed near a forest
and at dawn set off towards Paris. He soon found friends who helped
him to make his way out of France, and after a series of adventures
he returned to England fourteen weeks after he had been shot down.
Brown's Lancaster was hit by flak over France and forced down
in a remote district. His navigator was killed in the crash and, of
the rest of the crew, only Brown and his bomb aimer evaded capture.
After making their way across country, sleeping in woods and
obtaining intermittent help from French farms, the two men joined
up with the Maquis. During one expedition to cut a railway line
the party was ambushed and Brown's companion captured. A week
later the Maquis headquarters was attacked in force by the Germans
and Brown joined in the fight. The members of the Resistance Group
then had to separate, but Brown was helped to reach and cross the
frontier into Spain from where he returned to England by way of
Gibraltar. His adventures had lasted five months.
* * * * *
No. 75 New Zealand Bomber Squadron based at Mepal, near
Ely, was to play a prominent part in the various operations preparatory to the landing in Normandy. In the fourteen weeks before
D Day its crews flew 592 sorties, dropped 1958 tons of bombs, and
laid 339 mines in enemy waters; twelve aircraft were lost on these
missions. Wing Commander R. D. Max continued in command until
early in May when he was succeeded by Wing Commander Leslie,
Wing Commander R. J. A. Leslie, DSO, AFC; RAF; born Inglewood, 3 Mar 1919;
clerk; joined RNZAFJun 1939; transferred RAFApr 1940 and re-transferred RNZAFApr 1945; commanded No. 75 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944; CI No. 1653 Conversion Unit, 1945.
who had been with Bomber Command in the early days of the war
and had also seen service in the Middle East. Squadron Leaders
Climie,
Squadron Leader J. K. Climie, DFC; born Lower Hutt, 12 Dec 1916; draughtsman;
joined RNZAFSep 1940.
Gibb,
Squadron Leader D. S. Gibb, DFC; born Christchurch, 30 May 1914; school teacher;
joined RNZAFMay 1940.
and Watson
Squadron Leader R. J. Watson, DFC; born Waimate, 5 Jul 1916; law clerk; joined
RNZAFDec 1940; killed on air operations, 5 Mar 1944.
were the flight commanders at this
period. When Watson was lost with his crew on a supply-dropping
mission over France he was succeeded by Squadron Leader L. J.
Drummond.
At the beginning of March 1944 No. 75 Squadron was preparing
to exchange its Stirlings for Lancaster bombers, but while awaiting
delivery of the new machines crews continued with minelaying and
supply-dropping missions to the French Resistance Movement. The
areas in which mines were laid were usually along the French coast
off Cherbourg, Le Havre, St. Malo and the Biscay ports, but on
three nights mines were also laid in Kiel Bay, along the Dutch
coast, and in the Heligoland Bight.
For supply-dropping just over one hundred sorties were despatched
by No. 75 Squadron during the first fortnight of March. These were
interesting if rather uneventful missions. ‘The target was reached
just after midnight,’ says a typical report. ‘The area was identified
near a wood at the intersection of a road and railway. The reception
was good, consisting of three bonfires and a faint flashing light from
a man holding a torch. Twelve containers were then dropped from
about 500 feet. On the return flight two packages of leaflets were
also dropped at Aix-les-Bains and St. Genix. The weather was
good and base was reached without further incident.’
These supply missions were arranged as far as possible for clear
weather but crews did not always find conditions ideal at this season
of the year. ‘In the target area,’ says another squadron report, ‘there
was variable cloud, bases from 500 feet to zero and snow showers.
Sixteen containers were dropped but the five packages of leaflets
could not be released owing to the hatch being frozen.’
On 13 March the first Lancaster bomber was received at Mepal
and during the next six weeks the Stirlings were gradually taken off
operations, the last sorties with Stirlings being flown on the night
of 23 April when five aircraft laid mines in Kiel Bay. Meanwhile
the New Zealand crews had begun to take part in the attack on
rail targets in France, Belgium, and Germany. Their first target was
the marshalling yard at Amiens, bombed by twelve Stirlings on 16
March. Subsequent objectives were the marshalling yards at Laon,
Aulnoye, Courtrai, and Lille.
No. 75's first sorties with Lancasters were made on the night of
9 April against the railway centre of Villeneuve St. George, about
11 miles south-east of Paris. Of the eleven Lancasters which took
off from Mepal that night, eight were captained by New Zealanders-
SquadronZealandersSquadron Leader Climie, Flight Lieutenants Fauvel
Flight Lieutenant S. F. Fauvel; born Wellington, 22 May 1923; factory worker; joined
RNZAFSep 1941; killed on air operations, 28 May 1944.
and E. F.
Witting, Flying Officer Murray,
Flying Officer H. J. Murray; born Pleasant Point, 11 Dec 1917; fitter; joined RNZAFOct 1941; killed on air operations, 18 Apr 1944.
and Pilot Officers Armstrong,
Pilot Officer C. E. Armstrong; born Napier, 9 May 1916; greenkeeper; joined RNZAFJan 1942; killed on air operations, 23 May 1944.
Millar,
Flying Officer R. Millar; born Pukerau, 19 Oct 1913; salesman; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
Burton,
Flight Lieutenant H. L. Burton, DFC; born Dunedin, 12 May 1919; cashier; joined
RNZAFOct 1941.
and W. J. Willis. All crews returned safely and
reported successful attacks. On following nights the Lancasters
bombed the marshalling yards at Laon and Rouen and the communication centre of Aachen. Towards the end of April the New
Zealand Squadron also took part in five raids on targets in Germany,
sending a total of sixty-four aircraft to bomb Cologne, Dusseldorf,
Karlsruhe, Essen, and Friedrichshafen. The squadron was fortunate
in that only one bomber, captained by Flying Officer Herron,
Flying Officer R. W. Herron; born Auckland, 26 Jul 1920; school teacher; joined RNZAFApr 1942; killed on air operations, 27 Apr 1944.
was
lost during this active period.
In May the main effort of the New Zealand Squadron was
directed against the enemy's communication system, and crews took
part in such notable raids as that against the large railway depot of
Chambly and in both raids on the marshalling yards at Aachen. The
missions to Aachen were particularly eventful for Flight Lieutenant
Berney
Squadron Leader R. B. Berney, AFC, DFM, DFC (US); born Eketahuna, 9 Dec 1916;
farm worker; joined RNZAFMar 1940.
and his crew. On the first occasion they were attacked by
a German night fighter and, after a brief exchange of fire, they
had the satisfaction of seeing the fighter catch fire and go down.
On the second raid the Lancaster was intercepted by a Messerschmitt and there was a series of inconclusive combats before the
fighter broke away.
Other rail centres attacked by the squadron during May were
those at Courtrai, Louvain, Le Mans, Angers and Trappes. All these
missions were comparatively uneventful, except that whilst flying
back from Louvain the Lancaster captained by Flight Lieutenant
Clark
Flight Lieutenant S. A. Clark, DFC; born Rangiora, 24 Nov 1913; gasworks employee;
joined RNZAFAug 1941.
was attacked by a Junkers 88. Spirited return fire from the
British bomber set the Junkers on fire and it was seen to go down
and explode on the water near the coast. In addition to these attacks
on rail centres, the New Zealanders flew to Germany on two
occasions during May. Duisburg was the target for twenty-five
squadron aircraft on the 21st and the following night twenty-three
Lancasters went to Dortmund. Three aircraft, of which Pilot
Officer Armstrong, Pilot Officer Burke,
Pilot Officer E. L. Burke; born Manaia, 10 Mar 1918; farmer; joined RNZAF Dec
1941; killed on air operations 22 May 1944
and Pilot Officer Willis
were the captains, were lost in these two raids. The Lancasters also
bombed the coastal batteries at Cap Gris Nez and Boulogne during
May and these attacks were continued on the nights immediately
preceding the invasion.
* * * * *
Medium bombers, fighter-bombers, and fighters with the Allied
Expeditionary Air Force flew a wide variety of missions during
the months immediately before D Day. Flying-bomb sites received
a large proportion of the initial effort and remained a continuing
commitment, but after April operations were directed more and more
against rail targets, airfields, roads, bridges and military installations in France. Day and night fighters retained for the defence of
the British Isles were also able to take part in these operations for
enemy reaction to the Allied preparations proved considerably less
than expected. Yet the need for pure fighter aircraft continued, and
thousands of sorties were flown by Spitfires and long-range Mustangs
both in protecting medium and light bombers and in escorting and
shepherding home the long-range bombers of the United States Air
Forces returning from deep penetrations into Germany.
In this phase of the campaign against the German V-weapon sites
14,000 tons of bombs were dropped by aircraft of the AEAF. The
attacks on these targets were both difficult and costly, for many of
the sites were well hidden either in or at the edge of woods and
heavily defended by flak. However, by careful study of photographs
and through hard-won experience, the aircrews learnt to detect their
presence in spite of the German efforts at camouflage. The shape
and layout of the buildings and the specially built roads and railways
that led to them were the most revealing features. By D Day it was
estimated that, of the ninety-seven identified flying-bomb sites,
eighty-six had been neutralised, while supply and storage depots
had also been damaged.
In their attacks on rail targets in northern France and Belgium,
the British and American medium bombers, fighter-bombers, and
fighters swept over a very wide area creating havoc in marshalling
yards, repair depots, and installations along the tracks, as well as
among locomotives and trains on the move. The raids were intensified during May. On the 21st, for example, over 800 Thunderbolts,
Spitfires, Typhoons, and Tempests operated throughout the day,
claiming 67 locomotives destroyed and over 90 damaged. In the last
fortnight before D Day, fighters and bombers of the AEAF flew
1388 sorties with the primary purpose of attacking locomotives, and
during this period they claimed 157 locomotives destroyed and 82
damaged, as well as considerable damage to rolling stock. These
claims were probably somewhat inflated, but there is no doubt that
AEAF attacks made an important contribution to the widespread
dislocation of the enemy rail system which denied to the enemy
armies in the field the reinforcements and freedom of movement
necessary to mount decisive counter-attacks.
Complementary to this assault on rail motive power was the
attack on rail and road bridges leading into the invasion area. How-
ever, in order not to display special interest in the Normandy area the
early attacks were made on bridges over the Seine, with some others
over the Oise, the Meuse, and the Albert Canal, leaving until the
last weeks the task of destroying bridges south of Paris to Orleans
and west along the Loire. Bridges are difficult targets but the success
of the fighter-bombers, particularly the Typhoons, surpassed expec-
tations. While it is probable that in one or two attacks a lucky
hit exploded demolition charges set in place by the Germans, the
fighter-bombers demonstrated beyond all doubt their ability to attack
these targets effectively. By D Day twelve railway bridges and the
same number of road bridges over the River Seine had been
rendered impassable. In addition, three railway bridges at Liege and
others at Hasselt, Herenthals, Namur, Conflans, Valenciennes,
Hirson, Kinz-Karthaus and Tours, as well as the important road
bridge at Saumur, were also put out of action.
Airfields, ammunition dumps, military camps and headquarters,
together with radar stations and defence posts along the Channel
coast, were among other targets attacked by RAF Mitchells,
Mosquitos, Spitfires, and Typhoons in the last few weeks before the
invasion. Such was the destruction of repair, maintenance, and
servicing facilities on the forward airfields that the Germans were
forced to operate from bases a long way from the actual assault area.
This, no doubt, was one reason for the lack of enemy air interference with the landing and the subsequent inability of the German
Air Force to intervene at critical times in the land battle.
The low-level attacks on the Germans' coastal radar stations were
equally effective. By D Day, mainly as a result of attacks by Typhoon
and Spitfire squadrons with rocket projectiles and bombs, large
stretches of the Channel coast were deprived of their vital radar
cover. The enemy did not obtain the early warning of the approach of
the Allied armada that his radar coverage should have provided;
radar-controlled gunfire was interfered with; no fighter aircraft
hindered the airborne operations, and altogether the enemy was
confused and his troop movements delayed.
* * * * *
Royal Air Force medium bombers made their first large attack on
transport targets on 23 March when five squadrons of No. 2 Group
attacked the marshalling yards of Creil. Good bombing results were
reported. Flight Sergeant Anstey
Flying Officer R. S. Anstey; born Wellington, 15 Jun 1920; clerk; joined RNZAF May
1942.
who, with Flight Sergeants Winter
Flight Sergeant J. B. Winter; born Invercargill, 2 Oct 1920; assurance agent; joined
RNZAFMar 1942; died of injuries sustained on air operations, 8 May 1944.
and Jarvis
Warrant Officer L. J. Jarvis; born Wellington, 1 Jul 1922; motor-body builder; joined
RNZAFApr 1942.
as his navigator and air gunner, flew a Mitchell of No.
98 Squadron in this attack, encountered heavy flak during the flight
to the target, but their machine was not among the ten Mitchells
which came back damaged.
In the following weeks New Zealand pilots, navigators, and
wireless operators and air gunners flew on many such missions in
which marshalling yards, repair depots, and engines were effectively
attacked. No. 226 Mitchell Squadron, with which fifteen New
Zealanders were then flying, records operating frequently on two
missions and sometimes three in one day.
During May the medium bombers made twenty-three attacks
against railway centres, twenty-one against bridges, nine against
airfields, and eleven attacks against flying-bomb sites. A particularly
heavy and successful attack was made on 2 May against marshalling
yards at Namur by thirty-six Mitchells of the Dunsfold Wing, with
six squadrons of Spitfires and three of Mustangs providing fighter
escort. Flying Officer Findlater,
Flight Lieutenant H. G. Findlater; born Owaka, Otago, 11 Jul 1923; electroplater;
joined RNZAFDec 1941.
Flight Sergeant Miller,
Flying Officer M. J. Miller; born Balclutha, 20 Jul 1921; farmhand; joined RNZAFJul 1942.
and Flight
Sergeant Jones,
Flying Officer T. C. Jones; born Wanganui, 3 Jan 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFMar 1942.
of No. 180 Squadron, and Flying Officer Martin
Flight Lieutenant D. J. Martin; born Palmerston North, 15 Dec 1919; truck driver;
joined RNZAFMar 1942.
of No. 98 Squadron captained bombers on this raid. Photographs
showed a remarkable concentration of bomb bursts in the target
area, with hits on the engine sheds and repair depots as well as in
the railway sidings. On this occasion there was little opposition from
flak and no enemy aircraft were seen.
By contrast Mitchells of No. 98 Squadron attacking a flying-bomb
site a few days later met extremely accurate flak. While turning
away from the target the leading aircraft received a direct hit in
the nose, fell out of formation, and went straight down to crash in
flames. Several other aircraft were hit, including the Mitchell
captained by Anstey. Shrapnel from an anti-aircraft shell struck his
navigator, Winter, inflicting severe wounds in the head, and he died
shortly after the machine landed back at base.
No. 487 New Zealand Squadron, under Wing Commander I. S.
Smith, played its part in these operations as one of the six Mosquito
squadrons of No. 2 Group, transferred from Bomber Command to
Second Tactical Air Force on its formation. The Mosquitos were
employed in both night and day operations during this period. Their
main targets were enemy airfields on the Continent, against which a
total of 442 sorties were flown in May, but there were also a number
of attacks on rail and military targets and against flying-bomb sites.
In their daylight operations the Mosquitos, usually flying in small
formations, went in to attack their targets from low level with short-delay bombs. Such tactics demanded careful planning beforehand
and strict discipline in flight. After preliminary preparation by
navigators and pilots there would be a general briefing, at which
the leader would give his crews all available information about the
target and then discuss such matters as the tactics of approach and
withdrawal, the use of ‘Gee’ as an aid to accurate navigation, and
the technique of dive-bombing, which involved the correct spacing
of the attacking aircraft in order to avoid damage from the blast of
exploding bombs dropped by the preceding machines. The
Mosquitos would take off singly and then form up in loose pairs at
intervals of 300 yards, crossing the coast just above the house tops.
The formation would head out to sea, pick up the appropriate
direction line on their ‘Gee’ charts, and then fly along a radio beam
towards the French coast. Some 20 miles from France the Mosquitos
would climb to 500 feet, at which height landfall was made and
course set for their target. Over France the intervals between the
pairs of aircraft would be gradually increased to about a mile and a
half and a weaving form of flight adopted to confuse enemy anti
aircraft gunners. On reaching the target the first two Mosquitos
would sweep down to the attack with cannons blazing and release
their bombs. A mile or so between each pair allowed time for the
explosion of the bombs before the next machines began their attack.
After bombing, the Mosquitos would regain height to begin the
homeward flight, which their superior speed usually enabled them
to complete without interception.
Many effective attacks resulted from such tactics although there
were, of course, inevitable exceptions. For example, one day towards
the end of March when eight Mosquitos flew to attack a flying-bomb site in northern France, the target proved difficult to identify,
and while several pairs of Mosquitos were circling over the area at
the same time two aircraft flew into the blast from the bombs dropped
by another machine. One Mosquito went down to crash and blew up
among the trees below, while the other, with its fuselage torn and
twisted and controls damaged, was just able to limp back to the
English coast.
Daylight operations by No. 487 Squadron during April and May
included attacks on the railway repair depot at St Geristain in
Belgium, the marshalling yards at Abancourt and Serquex, the radar
stations at Le Treport and Sortosville-en-Beaumont, the coastal
battery at Fecamps, and flying-bomb sites in the Dieppe area. By
night the main effort was devoted to intruder patrols and attacks
against enemy airfields in Belgium, France and Holland, and in the
six weeks before D Day thirty sorties were flown on such missions,
without loss.
Squadron Leader Lucas, a popular and efficient captain with a
long and varied career in air operations, led several of the daylight
attacks made by the New Zealand Mosquitos during this period.
Two other experienced pilots were Flight Lieutenant Runciman,
Squadron Leader W. J. Runciman, AFC, DFM; born Auckland, 22 Oct 1920; draughts
man; joined RNZAFOct 1940; transferred RAF1947.
who had previously flown Bomber Command Stirlings, and Flight
Lieutenant Watkin,
Squadron Leader B. L. Watkin; born Opotiki, 8 Dec 1917; salesman; joined RAF Aug
1938; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
who had been with Coastal Command in the
early months of the war and then in Canada and New Zealand.
Flying Officers R. C. Beazer, M. L. S. Darrall, D. R. Fowler, F. Scott,
Flight Lieutenant F. Scott; born Inglewood, 31 Jan 1922; lorry driver; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
and M. N. Sparks were also prominent as pilots, and Flying Officer
F. S. Stevenson and Pilot Officer Redman
Flying Officer A. J. Redman; born Wellington, 9 Nov 1911; motor driver; joined
RNZAFSep 1941.
as navigators with the
squadron at this time.
* * * * *
In the various fighter and fighter-bomber operations during these
months three New Zealand units - No. 485 Spitfire Squadron, No.
486 Tempest Squadron, and No. 488 Mosquito Squadron - each
played their part; at the same time there were many New Zealand
pilots flying Spitfires, Typhoons, and Mustangs with RAF units.
New Zealanders were also among the senior officers who commanded or controlled fighters and fighter-bombers operating across
the Channel. Group Captain P. L. Donkin continued in command
of an RAF Reconnaissance Wing which was now attached to the
Canadian Army, and Wing Commander R. F. Aitken remained in
charge of a forward base from which night fighters flew intruder
patrols over enemy airfields. At the beginning of May Wing Commander Deere took charge of a forward airfield of Second Tactical
Air Force with three French squadrons under his command, include-
ingincludeing some of the pilots he had led from Biggin Hill in the previous
summer. His Wing Commander Flying was Crawford-Compton,
who frequently led the Frenchmen to bomb flying-bomb sites, shoot
up railway engines, and attack military installations and coastal
targets in the Pas de Calais. One day in May, in a typical operation
of this period, Compton led Spitfires to bomb a junction, tunnel
entrance, and railway viaduct south of Dieppe. Hits were seen on
the end of the viaduct, on the tracks at the mouth of the tunnel, and
on the railway junction. A few days later an ammunition dump in
a forest near Dieppe was blown up, and the same afternoon five
trains were attacked in the area south of the Seine, three engines
being left with steam pouring out of their punctured boilers.
Typhoon squadrons operated from an advanced airfield in
southern England under the command of Wing Commander D. J.
Scott, and their low-level attacks on bridges and coastal radar
stations were particularly successful. In one raid against a large
radar station near Dieppe towards the end of May, over a hundred
rocket projectiles were aimed at the target; the long-range reporting
post was destroyed and other buildings used for medium-range
reporting, night-fighter control, and the direction of coastal batteries
were badly damaged. ‘These radar targets,’ writes Air Chief Marshal
Leigh-Mallory, ‘were very heavily defended by flak and low level
attacks upon them demanded great skill and daring. R.A.F. pilots
of 2nd Tactical Air Force were mainly employed and losses were
very heavy. There is no doubt, however, that these attacks saved the
lives of many soldiers, sailors and airmen on D-day.’
Spitfire wings were led by Wing Commanders C. E. Malfroy and
R. D. Yule during the early months of 1944 and then both men
were appointed to operational control posts with the Second Tactical
Air Force. Wing Commander Wells
Wing Commander E. P. Wells, DSO, DFC and bar; born 26 Jul 1916; farmer; joined
RNZAFOct 1939; commanded No. 485 (NZ) Sqdn, 1942; Wing Leader, Kenley,
1942–43; Wing Commander, Training, No. 11 Fighter Group, 1943–44; Wing Leader,
Tangmere, Detling, West Malling and Hawkinge, 1944; commanded Fighter Leader
School, Central Flying. Establishment, 1944–45.
was at No. 11 Fighter Group
Headquarters until March. Then he flew with a Canadian wing of
the Tactical Air Force for several weeks before taking command of
a new Spitfire wing formed at Detling with three squadrons that
had only recently returned from Sicily. Flight Lieutenants Spurdle
Wing Commander R. L. Spurdle, DFC and bar; born Wanganui, 3 Mar 1918; ware
houseman; joined RNZAFSep 1939; transferred RAFJul 1940; commanded No. 80
Sqdn, 1944–45; Staff duty, Admin. Plans, No. 83 Group, 2nd TAF, 1945; Wing Leader,
No. 39 Wing, No. 83 Group, 1945.
and Burrett
Flight Lieutenant H. J. Burrett; born Auckland, 2 Aug 1918; joined RNZAFJul 1941.
were among the New Zealand pilots who flew with the
Detling Wing under Wells's leadership during the subsequent weeks.
Squadron Leader M. G. Barnett led Spitfires from a forward base
in Sussex in this period.
Mustang squadrons flew many long-range sorties both as bomber
escort and in low-level attacks on ground targets, and in these duties
Squadron Leader Westenra
Squadron Leader D. F. Westenra, DFC and bar; born Christchurch, 29 Apr 1918;
farmer; joined RAFFeb 1940; transferred RNZAFJan 1944; commanded No. 93
Sqdn, Middle East, 1943–44, and No. 65 Sqdn, 1944.
was prominent in command of No. 65
Squadron. Flight Lieutenants Collyns
Flight Lieutenant B. G. Collyns, DFC; born Greymouth, 24 Feb 1913; sheep farmer;
joined RNZAFNov 1939.
and Barrett
Flight Lieutenant R. Barrett; born Auckland, 30 Nov 1919; clerk; joined RNZAFNov 1939; killed on air operations, 17 May 1944.
were among his
senior pilots. The deep penetrations into enemy territory made by
the Mustangs gave greater opportunity for meeting enemy fighters
and all three New Zealand airmen were in action at various times
during this period. On one Ranger operation over Denmark in the
middle of May, Westenra and his pilots met German fighters near
Aalborg and, in a ‘hectic battle which finished up right on the
deck’, they claimed eight enemy machines for the loss of only two
pilots.
No. 485 New Zealand Squadron flying Spitfires of shorter range
had no such luck during these months, but this was nevertheless a
period of solid, if unspectacular, achievement for the pilots. Transferred from Scotland to Hornchurch in Essex at the beginning of
March 1944, the squadron had joined one of the tactical air force
wings that were soon to operate on the Continent in support of the
Allied armies. After a short period at Hornchurch the New
Zealanders moved to a forward airfield in Sussex, where they lived
under canvas and operated under conditions similar to those they
would experience when they moved across the Channel.
At first the squadron operated mainly in the role of bomber
support, covering the withdrawal of Fortresses from their raids on
targets in Germany and escorting Marauders to attack marshalling
yards and V-weapon sites. All these operations were flown without
notable incident. Pilots saw more action when, towards the end of
April, they began to carry bombs and attack flying-bomb sites and
ground targets on the Continent. Such missions, interspersed with
escort duties and Ranger patrols over Belgium and France, were
continued throughout May, and at the end of that month the Spitfires joined in the attacks against German radar stations along the
French coast. Altogether this was a period of intensive effort in
which the squadron flew as many as four operations in one day and
a total of over four hundred sorties in the five weeks before D Day.
Squadron Leader Niven,
Squadron Leader J. B. Niven, DFC and bar; born Edinburgh, 16 Aug 1920; joined RAFJul 1939; commanded No. 485 Sqdn, 1944.
a Scot from Edinburgh, who succeeded
Squadron Leader M. R. D. Hume at the beginning of the year, was
in command of No. 485 Squadron during this period. Flight Lieutenant Lee
Flight Lieutenant L. S. Lee; born Auckland, 25 Sep 1919; student; joined RNZAFSep 1939.
and Flight Lieutenant Black
Flight Lieutenant L. S. Black, DFC; born Wellington, 12 Apr 1914; barrister; joined
RNZAFApr 1940; killed in flyingaccident, 5 Mar 1945.
were the flight commanders.
No. 486 New Zealand Squadron operated during the early
months of 1944 with Typhoon fighter-bombers in attacks on
V-weapon sites in northern France. Pilots also flew long-range
missions in search of enemy aircraft and to bomb airfields in the
Brest and Paris areas. Few German fighters were sighted during these
flights over enemy territory but on a number of occasions the
Typhoons encountered sharp anti-aircraft fire. During a sortie to the
Paris area Flying Officer Miller
Flight Lieutenant W. L. Miller; born Waimate, 5 Feb 1918; clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1940.
had a narrow escape when his
Typhoon received two direct hits. One of the petrol tanks exploded
and caught fire and at first Miller thought he would have to bale
out. However, the rush of air put out the flames and he was able
to retain control and fly back across the Channel. Flight Sergeant
Swinton
Warrant Officer W. J. Swinton; born Te Kaha, Auckland, 6 Dec 1921; dairy-farm
labourer; joined RNZAFAug 1941; p.w. 10 Feb 1944.
was lost on a Ranger patrol about the same time, and
from another long patrol Squadron Leader Iremonger,
Wing Commander J. H. Iremonger, DFC; RAF; born Warminster, Wiltshire, 31 Mar
1918; permanent commission RAF1938; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944.
who com-
mandedcommanded No. 486 Squadron during these months, returned with his
Typhoon badly shot up by flak.
At the end of March the New Zealanders began to exchange their
Typhoons for Tempest aircraft. The Tempest, designed as a medium
altitude day or night fighter and fitted to carry long-range tanks,
bombs, and rocket projectiles, was the newest product of the Hawker
Aircraft Company which had produced in turn the famous Hurricane
and the versatile Typhoon. After a brief period of training and
practice flights, the squadron moved to an advanced airfield in Kent
where it joined the first Tempest wing of the Allied Expeditionary
Air Force. Operations during the next few weeks included attacks
on bridges, railways, and flying-bomb sites in northern France,
together with reconnaissance and Ranger patrols. The Tempests also
attacked ships and gun positions along the French and Belgian
coasts and took part in several fighter sweeps. On 21 May the
squadron flew as part of a large force of Spitfires, Typhoons, and
Tempests which made widespread attacks on trains and military
transport in France, Belgium, and Holland. The New Zealanders
for their part attacked goods trains between St. Omer and Lille and
installations along the line. Four locomotives were reported hit and
damaged. Twenty RAF pilots were lost that day but the New
Zealanders were lucky and completed their mission without casualty.
This good fortune continued to favour No. 486 in its operations,
and during the last five weeks before D Day 208 sorties were flown
without the loss of a single aircraft.
No. 488 New Zealand Mosquito Squadron continued to play a
prominent part in night-fighter operations under the leadership of
Wing Commander R. C. Haine; Squadron Leaders E. N. Bunting
and R. G. Watts were the flight commanders. During the early
months of 1944, which saw a renewal of German night bombing
raids against England, the New Zealanders had flown from
Bradwell Bay in Essex. The German raids were intermittent,
scattered, and on a smaller scale than anticipated, but No. 488
crews were particularly successful in their interception patrols and
by mid-April, when the ‘Baby Blitz’ came to an end, they had
destroyed eighteen German aircraft and claimed two more as
probably destroyed. Details of these successes have already been
recorded.
Early in May 1944 the New Zealanders moved to a base in Wiltshire from which they flew night patrols in protection of southern
and western districts, where invasion forces were now assembling.
Patrols were uneventful until the night of 14 May when several
crews were in action. Airborne just after midnight, Flight Lieutenant
J. A. S. Hall and Flying Officer J. P. Cairns obtained a radar contact
which, after a long chase, led to the sighting of a Junkers 188. Hall
flew right underneath to obtain a clear-cut identification and then
dropped back a hundred yards or so astern and opened fire.
The first burst found its mark and the Junkers went straight
down to explode in a mass of flames as it hit the ground. Three
members of the crew who baled out were subsequently captured.
On patrol about the same time, Flight Sergeant Mitchell
Flying Officer R. W. Mitchell; born Taumarunui, 15 Mar 1912; leather goods salesman;
joined RNZAFDec 1941.
and his
navigator, Sergeant Ballard,
Flight Lieutenant R. L. Ballard; born London, 25 Oct 1916; joined RAFJul 1940.
of London, intercepted another German
bomber. They scored hits but lost sight of their target before being
able to administer the coup-de-grâce. Searchlights illuminated a
target for Flying Officer R. G. Jeffs and, closing in on what proved
to be a Junkers 88, he opened fire. Both engines of the enemy bomber
caught alight and it went down to crash in flames. All the crew
baled out and were taken prisoner. Ten minutes later Jeffs sighted
and attacked a Dornier 217, which went down with smoke pouring
from one engine but was not seen to crash.
During the last few weeks before D Day there were very few
nights when the enemy operated over the areas patrolled by No. 488
Squadron and no conclusive actions were reported. This was, how-
ever, the general experience of both day and night defence squadrons
for the German air reaction to the Allied preparations was remarkably weak. By night a few isolated attempts to attack Portsmouth
and Plymouth areas were all that the now depleted German bomber
forces could achieve. By day the number of German aircraft which
approached the British coast was negligible and even reconnaissance
machines failed to penetrate the defences. Indeed, most of the
reconnaissance sorties flown by the Luftwaffe from France were
limited to brief appearances in mid-Channel. All this was not
surprising for standing patrols by RAF fighters as far as forty to
fifty miles south of the Isle of Wight, and the frequent bombing
attacks on their bases were making life particularly difficult for the
German squadrons in northern France.
Mastery of the air over the Channel, wrested from the Germans
in earlier years by RAF Fighter Command, was now complete. It
proved of incalculable value to the Allied armies, navies, and air
forces which were able to complete their preparations for the assault
virtually unmolested.
* * * * *
The air war at sea now claims attention. Here Hitler's hopes that
Admiral Doenitz with his U-boats would be able to upset the build-up of forces and supplies in Britain had been frustrated by the signal
Allied victories in the Atlantic battle during 1943. Thereupon the
Germans had planned to conserve their forces until the invasion
actually began, when mass attacks would be launched upon the
assault ships and the subsequent supply convoys. To this end Doenitz
instructed his U-boat commanders to patrol cautiously and attack
only under the most favourable conditions. But even so the German
U-boat arm suffered further considerable loss during the early
months of 1944 for a relatively small return in sinkings. From
January to the end of May, Coastal Command aircraft alone sighted
and attacked over one hundred U-boats; twenty-four of them were
sunk outright with others seriously damaged.
Royal Air Force Coastal Command was now a formidable force.
In January 1944 it possessed some thirty anti-submarine squadrons
equipped with long-range Liberator, Fortress, Halifax, and Wellington land planes, together with Sunderland and Catalina flying boats.
Operating from bases that stretched in a wide arc from Iceland
through the United Kingdom to Gibraltar and the Azores, these
squadrons were employed in escorting convoys and hunting U-boats
in the open Atlantic, the Bay of Biscay, and the Western Approaches.
Farther south, on the route to the Cape, cover was provided by aircraft based at Gibraltar and in West Africa, among them the
Sunderlands of No. 490 New Zealand Squadron.
The success of Coastal Command's patrols during this period
may be gauged from the fact that huge convoys continued to pass
almost unmolested from Gibraltar, the United States, and Canada
to British ports. In March 1944 only one merchant ship in convoy
was sunk in the North Atlantic, whereas eleven vessels went down
in the Indian Ocean where the Allied defence was much weaker.
During May not a single merchant ship was lost in the Atlantic
areas swept by Coastal Command.
The Bay of Biscay continued to be the main hunting ground for
aircraft based in south-west England. Intensive day and night patrols
over those waters resulted in seventy-two attacks on U-boats during
the first five months of 1944; but it is interesting to note that the
large majority of these attacks took place at night with the aid of
the Leigh Light or flares. The German U-boat commanders were
now very wary of being caught on the surface by day in a region so
well covered by air patrols. They preferred to sacrifice both speed
and time by travelling submerged throughout almost their whole
passage across the bay, venturing up only for short periods during
the hours of darkness to recharge batteries and change air.
In the wider spaces of the Atlantic targets were now fewer;
nevertheless, Coastal Command aircraft attacked more than fifty
U-boats during this same period. One German submarine – U.231 –
was depth-charged and destroyed in the light of the January moon
by a No. 172 Squadron Wellington flying 400 miles north-east of
its base in the Azores. Another praiseworthy kill was made by a
Catalina flying boat of No. 210 Squadron at the extreme range of
750 miles north of her base in the Shetland Islands. Called out in
support of a convoy returning from North Russia, the Catalina
sighted the U-boat some 200 miles north-west of the Lofoten Islands.
Because of the length of her patrol the flying boat carried only two
depth-charges. These, however, were so well placed that the U-boat
was sent to the bottom.
Tribute to the effectiveness of the aerial depth-charge attacks was
paid by the Germans themselves. One day in March as U.265 began
to sink by the stern after an attack by a Sunderland in the North-Western Approaches, the German commander flashed a signal ‘Fine
Bombish’ before he and his men abandoned ship. While flying in to
the attack the Sunderland had been hit, and members of the crew
had to plug holes in the hull so that their machine would remain
afloat when it alighted at its base in Northern Ireland.
An outstanding feature of the pre-D Day operations by RAFCoastal Command was the May offensive in the area between
Norway, Shetland, and Iceland. It was appreciated that as the Allied
invasion across the Channel became imminent, Doenitz would try to
reinforce his Biscay flotillas from Norway so air patrols over northern
waters were strengthened. The first sighting and attack was, appropriately enough, made by a Norwegian crew on 16 May, and during
the next fortnight twelve more U-boats were depth-charged from
the air. Six of them were sunk outright and others forced back to
port.
New Zealanders, both air and ground crew, were to be found
with almost all Coastal Command squadrons, in the United King-
dom, Iceland, Gibraltar, West Africa, and the Azores. In some units
the representation was limited to a few individuals but in others,
notably the Liberator and Halifax squadrons, there was a relatively
large contingent of pilots, navigators, wireless operators, and air
gunners, as well as armourers, fitters, and radar mechanics.
Squadron Leader M. A. Ensor was the outstanding personality
with No. 224 Liberator Squadron at St. Eval in Cornwall, where he
won commendation for his work as flight commander both in the
air and on the ground. With No. 53 Squadron also flying from St.
Eval, Pilot Officer W. Anderson captained a Liberator in several
attacks on U-boats. In another crew of this squadron, Flight Sergeants
H. J. Mills and F. E. Bailey flew as radar operator/air gunners. In
February they took part in a lengthy action round a convoy some
400 miles west of Ireland, and during two operational flights the
crew sighted six U-boats and attacked five of them. Flight Lieutenants
Jenkins
Flight Lieutenant H. G. Jenkins; born Auckland, 8 Feb 1919; clerk; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
and Nicholls
Flight Lieutenant H. R. Nicholls; born Auckland, 15 Oct 1917; clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1939.
of No. 547 Squadron both captained
Liberators in night attacks in the Bay of Biscay, and Flying Officers
Culling-Mannix
Flying Officer F. T. Culling-Mannix; born Timaru, 1 Oct 1917; civil servant; joined
RNZAFJun 1941; killed on air operations, 5 Feb 1944.
and McDowall
Flight Lieutenant W. McDowall; born Waterside, Scotland, 20 Sep 1920; joined RNZAFAug 1941.
flew Halifaxes of No. 502
Squadron in night patrols over the same area. Culling-Mannix and
his crew failed to return from patrol early in February, only a few
days after having made a damaging attack on a German submarine.
During the intensive operations over northern waters towards the
end of May 1944, New Zealanders saw at least two U-boats
destroyed. One of them was attacked by a Sunderland from Invergordon with an all-New Zealand crew captained by Warrant Officer
MacDonald.
Flight Lieutenant J. S. MacDonald; born Wellington, 26 Aug 1914; salesman; joined
RNZAFOct 1939.
A contemporary report tells how one of the gunners
first sighted the submarine when the Sunderland was about 200 miles
north-east of the Shetlands. The flying boat swept in to drop a stick
of depth-charges, and a few seconds later the rear gunner ‘let out a
wild Maori yell’ as he saw the depth-charges straddle the target.
One of them must have scored a direct hit for a few seconds later
the U-boat blew up, leaving the sea strewn with oil and wreckage.
Two months later this same Sunderland crew were forced down in
the sea north-west of Dakar while flying to West Africa to join
No. 490 Squadron. They got ashore after some adventures and were
eventually rescued from the beach by a French corvette.
The squadrons based, on the West African coast flew patrols to
protect convoys in that area and also to harass U-boats on passage to
the Indian Ocean. Unfortunately, few opportunities for attack
presented themselves during these months, but the crews who flew
the many long and uneventful patrols at least had the satisfaction of
seeing the convoys pass safely on their way.
No. 490 New Zealand Squadron, under Wing Commander B. S.
Nicholl, was based at Jui near Freetown, with a detachment commanded by Squadron Leader P. R. Godby at Fisherman's Lake, 150
miles south-east in Liberia, and continued to take a prominent part
in the patrol and escort duties. During April, in spite of the fact that
three U-boats patrolled off the West African coast for the greater
part of the month, no shipping was attacked in that area. Again in
May convoys passed unmolested even though there was some increase
in the number of transit U-boats as well as those on patrol. It is
difficult to believe that no opportunity for attack fell in the way of
German U-boat commanders during this period, and the conclusion
that the constant air sweeps had much to do with the enemy's
inactivity can scarcely be avoided.
* * * * *
Against enemy shipping in European waters both RAF Bomber
and Coastal Commands were active during these months. Bomber
Command continued laying mines, a task which had long been an
important part of bomber operations. Now that the technique of
high-level minelaying with the aid of H2S was firmly established,
aircraft dropped their mines with precision through the densest
cloud and were able to penetrate even the most distant and heavily
defended areas from the Baltic to the Bay of Biscay. Altogether from
1 March to the eve of D Day, crews flew 2333 sorties in which 7377
mines of many types were laid for the loss of 37 aircraft. The main
aims of the minelaying campaign remained the dislocation and
disruption of seaborne traffic carrying raw materials to the German
war machine, interference with the passage of troopships between
Germany, Norway and Russia, disorganisation of U-boat training in
the Baltic, and the restriction of U-boat movements to and from
operational bases on the Biscay coast. As the time for overlord
drew near, however, there came the special task of ensuring that the
flanks of the invading forces would be protected from attack by
German surface vessels and U-boats. Mines were therefore laid in the
Channel area to restrict the movement of enemy surface craft and to
prevent the U-boats securing advanced bases. To avoid forewarning
the Germans, these operations were skilfully woven into the general
pattern of the minelaying campaign and were completed without
arousing any suspicion that the Normandy coast had received special
attention. The areas most frequently covered included the channels
between Ushant and the Brest peninsula, the approaches to Morlaix,
St. Malo, and Cherbourg, and regions off the Dutch and Belgian
coasts.
While the main burden of the offensive was borne by the Stirling
and Halifax squadrons of Bomber Command, Lancasters were
prominent in operations along the north-west German coast where
their longer range and larger load capacity were a great asset. On one
night alone Lancasters laid 450 mines in the Gulf of Danzig. On
another occasion a small force of Lancasters laid mines in the sea
canal linking the important East Prussian ports of Konigsberg and
Pillau, almost 1000 miles from their base. This was a difficult and
hazardous operation in a narrow channel little more than 50 yards
wide and heavily defended on both sides by flak batteries and
searchlights.
Mosquitos of the Pathfinder Force made a notable and interesting
contribution on the night of 12 May when aircraft of No. 692
Squadron mined the Kiel Canal in bright moonlight from very low
level. This was the first occasion on which Mosquitos were used for
sea mining at night. The mission holds special New Zealand interest
for it was led by Wing Commander Watts, an experienced bomber
pilot with a fine record. His careful planning, skill, and fine airmanship contributed largely to the success obtained. Another Mosquito
was captained by Flight Lieutenant Farrow,
Squadron Leader J. P. Farrow, DFC, DFM; born Gisborne, 9 Aug 1918; truck driver;
joined RNZAFJul 1940; p.w. 27 Jun 1944.
who had Flying Officer
Strang
Flying Officer C. R. Strang; born Riverston, Auckland, 22 Sep 1921; bank clerk; joined
RNZAFJul 1941; killed on air operations, 26 Jun 1944.
as his navigator, while Flying Officer Matheson was navigator
in a third aircraft.
No. 692 Squadron was supported by nine Mosquitos from No. 139
Squadron whose task was to mark the route and indicate the target
with flares. Other Pathfinder Mosquitos made a ‘spoof’ attack on the
lock-gates at Brunsbuttel to divert the enemy defences while
‘Intruders’ from No. 100 Group shot up gun positions along the
canal. The minelaying force flew over the sea at 10,000 feet to a
point near Heligoland, where on sighting the Very lights fired by
No. 139 Squadron they turned south-east and began reducing height.
By the time they reached the red spot fires, dropped to mark the last
leg to the target, they were flying at 8000 feet and, swinging east,
began the long dive which would take them over the canal at 300
feet. Watts led the first wave of six aircraft down in their dive and,
in the light of the moon and the first of the dawn which was beginning to colour the eastern sky, the crews saw below them the three-
and-a-half-mile stretch of the canal which was their target. One by
one the leading aircraft swept down to release their mines, and with
the second wave quickly merging with the first, eleven mines were
‘laid fair and square in the canal’ within a matter of minutes.
The canal was defended along its entire length by anti-aircraft
guns and searchlights and an extensive system of balloon barrages
above each of the bridges which crossed it. However, in this surprise
attack, opposition from the defences in the mining area was slight.
Only one Mosquito was shot down; a second failed to locate the
target but returned safely with the rest of the force. As a result
of this brilliant operation the Kiel Canal was completely closed
to traffic for seven days, by which time sixty-three ships were held
up at one end.
In an attempt to counter the ever-increasing threat to their
merchant shipping and U-boats, the Germans had continually been
forced to expand their minesweeping force and to increase the
number of vessels used for escort duties. Now more than one-third
of all German naval personnel were employed on these tasks – a
significant diversion of effort which had an important bearing on the
quality and size of the naval forces available to oppose the Allied
armada shortly to sail across the Channel. Even so, with minelaying
aircraft of Bomber Command operating in strength, the Germans
were frequently unable to clear channels for their shipping without
long delays. Rear Admiral Gatow, writing in the Deutsche Allge-
meineAllgemeine Zeitung at this time, admitted that the mining of shipping
routes in the North Sea was so intense that it was causing the
heaviest strain on the German minesweeping flotillas. In April
Danzig Bay was closed to traffic for fifteen days, the ports of Konigsberg and Pillau for thirteen days, while Kiel and many other ports
could not be used for long periods.
In addition to this interruption of merchant traffic which delayed
delivery of urgently required materials and upset production
schedules, many ships were sunk and their valuable cargoes lost.
A contemporary report covering the first five months of 1944 stated
that at a conservative estimate the Germans had lost, without hope
of replacement, no less than three million tons of cargo-carrying
capacity and almost one and a half million tons of imports–a serious
drain on the enemy war potential at a critical time. German naval
losses were also heavy.
German difficulties were further increased by the operations of
Coastal Command's bomber and torpedo-bomber squadrons, whose
crews continued to harass German shipping off the coasts of Norway
and the Frisian Islands, in the North Sea and the English Channel.
Because of the frequent air patrols over these waters, enemy ships
now seldom sailed by day, and most sightings and attacks were made
by night. There were, however, several spectacular actions against
heavily defended convoys in daylight when cargo vessels, mine-
sweepers, anti-aircraft ships, and naval auxiliaries were sunk and
damaged.
No. 489 New Zealand Beaufighter Squadron, under Wing Commander J. S. Dinsdale, was one of the torpedo-carrying units engaged
in this campaign. Together with No. 455 Australian Squadron, also
flying Beaufighters, it made up an Anzac Wing which operated over
Dutch coastal waters. In May 1944 there were several notable actions
in this area. On the 14th the target was a convoy of four ships protected by sixteen escorts, sighted off Ameland in the Frisian Islands.
Six Beaufighters from No. 489 carried torpedoes, and a further six
aircraft from the New Zealand Squadron, together with twelve from
No. 455 Squadron, made up the anti-flak force. Flight Lieutenant T.
H. Davidson led the Torbeaus in low over the sea; they had to fly
through a curtain of anti-aircraft fire but as they broke away crews
saw that several torpedoes had scored hits. On one 2000-ton ship
which Davidson and Flight Sergeant Langley
Flying Officer M. L. Langley, CGM; born Dunedin, 11 Jun 1920; furrier; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
attacked there was a
huge explosion followed by a cloud of smoke and flames. It was soon
blazing furiously. A great column of smoke rose from a second ship
at which Flying Officer J. G. Gow and Flying Officer Fraser
Flight Lieutenant W. A. Fraser, DFC, DFM; born Dunedin, 8 Dec 1921; sheep farmer;
joined RNZAFMay 1941.
had
aimed their torpedoes, and a minesweeper appeared to be listing
badly. In addition, many cannon strikes were seen on the other
merchantmen and on several of the escorts. During the attack,
however, the Beaufighter piloted by Flying Officer I. A. Pettit was
shot down and four other machines were hit and damaged by flak;
one of them had to make a crash-landing on return to base.
Whilst attacking another well-defended convoy a few days later
No. 489 Squadron lost two more Beaufighters. One was flown by
Flying Officer Cameron
Flying Officer W. I. Cameron; born Inverness, Scotland, 4 Aug 1922; student; joined
RAFAug 1940; killed on air operations, 19 May 1944.
of Inverness, the other by Warrant Officer
Wright.
Pilot Officer J. A. S. Wright; born Dunedin, 14 Sep 1920; accountant; joined RNZAFDec 1941; killed on air operations, 19 May 1944.
The pilot of a third, Flight Sergeant Langley, was badly
wounded in the throat, arms, and thigh whilst approaching to drop
his torpedo, but despite these injuries he completed his attack and
then, aided by his navigator, flew his damaged machine back across
the North Sea to make a successful night landing. Langley, weak
from loss of blood, collapsed at the controls as the Beaufighter came
to rest.
In the last weeks before D Day the New Zealand Beaufighters
flew patrols along the enemy coast in search of E-boats and other
light naval craft that were operating from bases between Ijmuiden
and Cherbourg. Such patrols marked the first stage of operations
designed to ensure that the Allied invasion fleets would not be
molested by surface craft during their passage to Normandy from
ports in southern England. The main neptune operations—the
naval component of overlord—were planned to begin on the eve
of D Day when squadrons of RAF Coastal Command and the Fleet
Air Arm would co-operate with surface vessels of the Allied navies
in a wide and complicated pattern of patrols which, it was hoped,
would seal both the eastern and western entrances to the Channel.
* * * * *
During May 1944, while Allied fighters and bombers were
developing their offensive against the enemy's communications and
coastal defences, the final details of the Normandy assault plan were
settled. This provided for the operation to begin with the dropping
of three airborne divisions behind the German coastal defences
during the night immediately preceding the main invasion from the
sea. These divisions – the 6th British in the Orne Valley and the
82nd and 101st American at the base of the Cherbourg peninsula –
were to secure the flanks of the bridgehead and weaken the beach
defences at key points by attacks from the rear. Their landing was
to be followed soon after daybreak by the seaborne assault in which
the First United States Army, under Lieutenant-General Omar
Bradley, would land north and east of the Vire estuary, and the
Second British Army under Lieutenant-General M. C. Dempsey was
to land between Bayeux and Caen. Their immediate task was to
establish bridgeheads to accommodate follow-up troops; then the
initial objectives of attack included Caen, Bayeux, Isigny and
Carentan, with the airfields in their vicinity and the port of
Cherbourg. Thereafter, Allied forces were to advance on Brittany
with the objective of capturing ports southward to Nantes. The next
main aim was to drive eastwards on the line of the Loire in the
general direction of Paris and north across the Seine, destroying
as many as possible of the German forces in this area.
Because it was intended to supply the United States forces engaged
in Europe directly from American ports, United States troops were
assigned the right flank in these operations. They were to take
Cherbourg and the Brittany ports as supply bases while the British
protected the left flank of the Allied forces against what was
expected to be the main German counter-attack from the east. Then,
driving east and north along the coast, the British armies were to
seize the Channel ports as far north as Antwerp, through which
they were to be supplied from England.
To ensure the safe arrival of the assault troops on the beaches
the Allied navies would provide covering forces to protect the flanks
of the sea lanes used by the assault craft, with minesweeping vessels
to clear channels ahead of them. Once within range of the landing
areas the heavy naval guns were to open fire on the coastal batteries
to supplement the work of the air forces, and then, as the landing
craft drove inshore, there was to be an intense bombardment of the
beach defences by every gun that could be brought to bear.
Once assault forces had established themselves on shore, naval
forces were to maintain swept channels between France and England
through which supplies and reinforcements could be passed. Since
the initial port facilities would be very limited, provision had been
made for the establishment off the French coast of five protected
anchorages, two of which were subsequently to be extended into
artificial harbours.
The famous ‘Mulberries’, components for which had now been completed in England.
They were to be towed across the Channel and then sunk or moored off the Normandy
coast to the north-east and north-west of Bayeux. Each harbour was to be roughly the
size of Dover and was to consist of an outer floating breakwater, an inner fixed breakwater made of concrete caissons, and four floating piers running out from the beaches.
In the interval before these harbours were completed, shelter for the unloading was to
be provided by sinking lines of obsolete ships to form breakwaters at each of the five
main assault sectors.
Through these points the bulk of the stores were
to be unloaded during the early stages of the campaign. To provide
oil and petrol in quantity, tanker discharge points were to be set
up off the French coast and submarine pipelines laid beneath the
Channel, the latter under the code-name PLUTO.
Pipeline under the ocean.
The extent of the problem of berthing, loading, and moving the
forces involved in this great amphibious assault is perhaps best
indicated by the fact that over 5000 ships and 4000 additional ‘ship-
to-shore’ craft were to be engaged in the Channel during the assault
and build-up period. The naval forces included 25 flotillas of minesweepers of all types, 6 battleships, 2 monitors (15-inch-gun bombardment ships), 22 cruisers, 119 destroyers, 113 sloops, frigates and
corvettes, 80 patrol craft, anti-submarine trawlers and gunboats, and
360 motor launches, motor torpedo-boats, motor gunboats, and
American PT boats.
The Allied air forces, now in action, were to increase the intensity
of their attacks as D Day approached. In the assault itself they
were to prepare the way for the ground forces by destroying the
enemy's radar installations and by attacking coastal batteries and
beach defences between Ouistreham and Varreville; and, in conjunction with the navies, they were to protect the cross-Channel
movement from enemy air and sea attack. They were also assigned
the tasks of providing cover over the landing beaches and of attacking the enemy to reduce his ability to reinforce and counter-attack.
There would also be the air lift of the airborne forces. After the
establishment of a bridgehead the Allied air forces would support
the armies in their advance inland.
During the assault it was planned to maintain a sustained density
of ten fighter squadrons to cover the landing beaches, five over the
British sector and five over the American. An additional six squadrons were to be maintained in readiness to support the beach cover
if necessary. Over the main approach channels there would be a
sustained density of five squadrons, centred at roughly 60 miles and
three at 80 miles from the south coast of England. Additionally, a
striking force of thirty-three fighter squadrons, subsequent to its
initial employment as escort to the airborne formations, was to be
held in reserve for use as the situation might require.
As D Day approached, the air squadrons that were to support the
Normandy invasion crowded into the airfields and bases of the
United Kingdom. Some airfields that had previously held two
squadrons now had six. Satellite fields had become main bases. In
fact, the southern half of England, including Cornwall, was virtually
one huge airfield, in places with barely orbiting and navigational
space between one landing ground and the next.
The total strength of the Allied air forces now available in Britain
for D Day was in the region of 13,000 aircraft. Just over half of
these – about 7000 – were United States machines trained in day
operations over a wide area, and including a powerful force of some
2500 heavy and medium bombers capable, in reasonable conditions,
of attacking targets with great precision. American fighters were also
now capable of providing protection in deep penetrations over enemy
territory. The RAF forces, though slightly fewer in total numbers,
possessed greater operational experience and versatility. They
included a large proportion of bomber and reconnaissance squadrons,
highly trained in both day and night operations over Europe and
its contiguous seas, together with large numbers of high-performance
fighters that could guarantee air superiority over the whole of the
assault area, as well as the protection of the United Kingdom, the
main base for OVERLORD.
The variety, balance, and formidable nature of the Allied air
forces that were to support the invasion of Europe is indicated in
the following table:
USAAFRAF and AssociatesGrand TotalHeavy bombers – day25002500Heavy bombers – night14581458Medium and light bombers – day704704Medium and light bombers – day and night294294Fighters and fighter-bombers – day230021004400Fighters and bomber support – night400400Troop-carrier and transport11664601626Coastal4010301070Reconnaissance230390620Air-sea rescue9696——————Total aircraft6940622813,168——————Gliders16199722591——————
Against this great concentration of Allied air power the Germans
were able to deploy in the West only a very limited force whose
strength was further weakened by lack of adequate reserves of
trained men and equipment. On 5 June 1944Luftflotte 3, the
operational air command on which fell the burden of defence in the
West, possessed a total of barely 800 serviceable aircraft distributed
among airfields between south and south-west France and Belgium.
Particularly outstanding was the weakness of the ground-attack
units in France – there was only a handful of FW190 fighter-bombers available for this role – while the long-range bomber
squadrons could muster no more than some 130 aircraft and there
were not more than 170 single-engined fighters. Moreover, included
in the total strength were the anti-shipping squadrons based at such
distant airfields as Bordeaux, Toulouse and Marseilles, which
amounted in all to some 200 aircraft, a potentially formidable force
but weakened by a high proportion of inexperienced crews.
During the first week of June no major redistribution of German
air strength took place and there appears to have been no attempt
to have ready a force of some considerable striking power to operate
in an emergency. This was no doubt largely because home defence
remained a prime commitment of the German fighter force, as in
other theatres enemy air strength was already far from adequate to
meet the demands now made upon it. But there was also the fact
that until the very last moment the German High Command
remained uncertain of Allied intentions, and the possibility of
landings either to the east or west of the Seine estuary had to be
envisaged. This uncertainty was maintained and even increased by
the conflicting reports received from various sources and by the
widespread nature of the Allied air attacks. The result was that the
Luftwaffe was forced to adopt a policy of waiting on events, a
policy which inevitably imposed serious limitations on the activity
possible in the initial stages of an Allied invasion.
* * * * *
While the Germans were thus held in suspense wondering when
and where the blow might fall, the men of the Allied invasion forces
worked to complete their preparations on the airfields, at the ports
and naval bases, and in the wired and guarded camps of the
marshalling areas. When all was ready there came the briefing,
which was thorough and complete. Inside closely guarded rooms the
men of every unit were given a clear picture of their particular task.
Aerial photographs taken almost from wave-top height gave troops
a picture of the invasion beaches as they would first see them. Other
photographs taken from various heights and angles revealed the
German defences in all their detail. For the briefing of the British
glider pilots and air crews there was a detailed model of the Orne
Valley, correct even to the height of the trees and the size of the
houses. In addition, there was a film which gave the impression
that one was actually flying over the coast of France following the
precise route that the gliders, tugs, and troop-carriers would be
taking. As they watched this film pilots saw features and landmarks
coming in to view and learnt what to look for. Subsequent screening
of the film through a blue filter which gave a faithful representation
of moonlight conditions enabled crews, knowing the landmarks, to
see which were most likely to be visible at night. Briefing completed,
the whole mighty host of soldiers, sailors, and airmen then waited,
tense as a coiled spring, waiting for the moment when its energy
would be released to vault the English Channel in the greatest
amphibious assault ever attempted.
Throughout most of May the weather had been almost ideal, with
a succession of soft spring days and the English Channel smooth
and sunlit. But the first days of June brought a gradual deterioration
and with it a series of dramatic conferences at Southwick House,
near Portsmouth. Here Eisenhower and his commanders were meeting daily to correlate last-minute preparations and to receive the
weather forecasts upon which depended the final decision as to the
date of launching the assault.
D Day had been provisionally fixed for 5 June, and with the
approach of the critical period tension continued to mount as
prospects for reasonable weather became worse and worse. On the
morning of 4 June the predictions received were so bad that Eisenhower reluctantly decided that a postponement of twenty-four hours
would be necessary. A further conference the same evening presented
little if any improvement and tension mounted even higher because,
as Eisenhower remarks: ‘The inescapable consequences of further
postponement were almost too bitter to contemplate.’ Owing to the
state of tides the latest possible date for the invasion was 7 June,
but a further postponement until then was impracticable as the
naval bombardment forces, which had already sailed from their
northern bases, would have to put back to refuel and the whole
schedule would be upset.
In the early hours before dawn on 5 June the storm reached its
height. At 3.30 a.m., as Eisenhower drove to Southwick House, the
wind howled through the pine trees and the rain came in violent
squalls. ‘It seemed impossible,’ he writes, ‘that in such conditions
there was any reason for even discussing the situation.’ But the
forecast now presented a gleam of hope since a short interval of
fair weather was expected which would last until the next morning.
At this critical moment Eisenhower was therefore faced with the
alternatives of taking the risks involved in an assault during what
was likely to be only a partial and temporary break in the bad
weather, or of putting off the whole thing for several weeks until
tide and moon should again be favourable. Such a postponement
would, he considered, be most harmful to the morale of the Allied
forces, apart from the likelihood of their losing the benefits of
tactical surprise. And so at 4 a.m. on 5 June, with the storm still
beating at the windows of the library in Southwick House where
the Allied commanders sat in conference, Eisenhower took the final
and irrevocable decision: ‘The invasion of Europe would take place
on the following day.’
Within a few hours of this decision the first invasion convoys
were slipping out to sea into the stormy Channel, on the far side of
which lay their goal – Hitler's Fortress Europe, with its reputedly
impregnable Atlantic Wall. The wind came in fierce gusts, the sea
was wild and rough, and the clouds low and threatening. It was
scarcely an auspicious beginning. Indeed, it was in such a gale that
the last great invasion armada to sail the English Channel had
come to grief four centuries earlier. But only a few small craft were
forced back, and throughout the day more and more ships sailed
from ports as far apart as Falmouth and the Nore, until by mid-afternoon a vast concourse of landing craft, supply vessels, and
warships was moving towards the south of the Isle of Wight to
‘Area Z’ – unofficially known as ‘Piccadilly Circus’ – from where they
would begin their passage across the Channel.
Shortly after midday flotillas of minesweepers had begun
sweeping clear channels for them southwards to the bay of the
Seine. Fewer mines were encountered than had been expected. The
reason was revealed after the war by Admiral Krancke, the Commander of Naval Group, West. Coastal waters from Le Havre to
Dunkirk, he said, had been successfully mined in the spring, but
the German Navy's plan to lay a special barrage of mines between
Cherbourg and Le Havre had been foiled by Allied air and naval
power. The bombing of the French railways had delayed the arrival
of the mines, and when at last there were sufficient stocks available
at Le Havre, a minelaying flotilla had been despatched from Brest
to carry out the plan. But Coastal Command and the Royal Navy
intercepted the ships; only one got through and the barrage was
never laid.
As the convoys steamed on swarms of fighters wove a protective
screen above them. On the flanks Allied warships and aircraft of
RAF Coastal Command patrolled far and wide searching for U-boats and enemy surface craft, reinforcing the protection afforded
by the minefields already laid. Reconnaissance and intruder air
patrols continued in strength with attacks on airfields and communications over a wide area. Allied aircraft also maintained their
assault on the region between Calais and Le Havre where, as part
of the deception plan, they had been striking with increasing vigour
during the past few days, not only at the coastal guns but also at
the actual beach defences.
On the airfields throughout southern England there was great
activity as aircraft were refuelled and made ready for their further
tasks during the night and the following morning. Particular
significance was given to these preparations by the fact that the
wings and fuselages of all operational machines were now painted
with special markings – a band of two black stripes within three
white stripes – that would be readily distinguishable both from ships
and from the ground. And although to the thousands of airmen who
had been flying on operations across the Channel during the past
months, invading continental Europe was nothing new, the historic
importance of the events that were about to unfold was everywhere
sensed. Morale was conspicuously high, as the Air Commanders
found when they flew from airfield to airfield to speak to the pilots
and crews and wish them luck.
The last glow of sunset had scarcely faded from the sky when
the first aircraft took off carrying men of the airborne forces who
were to mark with lights the landing and dropping zones. Soon
other machines, bombers and night fighters, were leaving their bases
on various missions. Among them were the squadrons of No. 100
Bomber Group whose crews, led by some of the most experienced
officers in Bomber Command, were to take part in the elaborate
series of operations designed to keep the enemy's attention distracted
from Normandy. Lancasters were to simulate the approach of
convoys towards the Pas de Calais by dropping bundles of ‘window’,
strips of metallised paper, as they flew round and round in a continuous orbit moving gradually towards the French coast. Other
bombers set off to represent an airborne invasion in flight and to
drop dummies and noise-making machines north of Rouen. Stirlings
carried special equipment to jam the few radar stations that
were still in action near the assault area and so provide a
screen behind which bombing and airborne landings could take
place. Then, shortly before midnight, while the assault ships were
tossing on the dark waters of the Channel, the main force of RAF
bombers flew overhead to prepare for their approach.
Here was the full turn of the wheel. Four years earlier, almost to
the day, the RAF had covered the evacuation of the British Expeditionary Force from the beaches of Dunkirk. Since then other
expeditionary forces had been covered in their successful landings in
North Africa, Sicily, and Italy, but none of these could compare in
power or purpose with the vast armada that now moved in full
flood of strength and confidence back to France.
CHAPTER 10Normandy
Fortitude, faith, and foresight were now rewarded. In spite
of bad weather the sea passage across the Channel was successfully accomplished, and a degree of surprise achieved for which
Eisenhower ‘had hardly dared to hope.’ Indeed, the crossing, as
Admiral Ramsay records, had an air of unreality about it, so
completely absent was any sign that the enemy was aware of what
was happening. No U-boats were encountered, bad weather had
driven the enemy surface patrol craft into port, and no reconnaissance
aircraft put in an appearance. Not until the invasion fleets were
close inshore was there any enemy activity, and then it was largely
ineffective. The Germans had been confident that, with their
elaborate early-warning system, they would not be surprised, but
they had reckoned without Allied air and scientific counter measures.
In particular, almost all their radar stations on the Channel coast
had been bombed out of action or else jammed during the vital
period; only a few to the north of the Seine were allowed to
continue operating so that they might pick up the air formations
acting as decoys in that area.
Air and naval bombardments preceded the landings and afforded
invaluable help in ensuring their success. Although strongly
protected coastal batteries were generally able to withstand the rain
of high explosives, the field works behind the beaches were largely
destroyed, wire entanglements were broken down, and some of the
minefields set off. Smoke shells also blinded the defenders and
rendered useless many guns which had escaped damage, for the
crews were driven into their bomb-proof shelters until the landing
forces were close inshore. This was as well for the high seas added
enormously to the difficulties of getting the troops ashore. Landing
craft were hurled on to the beaches by the waves and many of the
smaller ones were swamped before they could reach the shore;
others were flung upon and holed by the mined underwater
obstacles. Troops were swept off their feet while wading through
the breakers and were drowned and many of those who reached
dry land were near exhaustion. Moreover, it was not possible on
every sector to swim in the amphibious tanks which were to provide
fire support for the infantry clearing the beach exits. Yet, despite
these difficulties, the landings went ahead and on all but one sector
the process of securing the beachheads was completed more or less
according to plan. By the end of the day all the assaulting divisions
were ashore and Hitler's Atlantic Wall had been breached along
almost the whole invasion coast. ‘As a result of our operations,’
says Montgomery in his review of the day's events, ‘we had gained
a foothold on the Continent of Europe. We had achieved surprise,
the troops had fought magnificently and their losses had been much
lower than had ever seemed possible ….’
And so it was. At a cost of fewer than 2500 lives the Allies had
gained a notable victory and accomplished the first phase of what
Winston Churchill rightly called ‘the most difficult and complicated
operation that has ever taken place.’
To assist the landings the Allied air forces had applied the whole
of their collective striking power. Four and a half hours before the
first seaborne troops set foot upon the shore of France the air transport commands had commenced dropping assault forces on either
flank of the invasion area, and in this operation, the biggest of its
kind thus far attempted, 2395 aircraft and 867 gliders participated.
The sudden and unexpected airborne landings, coupled with the
dropping of explosive dummy parachutists elsewhere, greatly confused the enemy and were undoubtedly one of the reasons for his
slow reaction and uncertain counter-attack. Yet they but heralded the
main aerial assault. This began just before dawn when 1047 aircraft
of RAF Bomber Command dropped over 5260 tons of bombs on ten
selected coastal batteries between Cherbourg and Le Havre. As day
broke, bombers of the US 8th Air Force took up the attack, 1038
aircraft dropping 1575 tons on the shore defences during the half
hour preceding the landings; medium, light, and fighter-bombers
of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force then swarmed in to attack
individual targets along the shores and artillery positions farther
inland. During the remainder of the day the heavy bombers
concentrated upon communication centres through which the enemy
would have to bring up his reinforcements, while the fighters and
fighter-bombers of AEAF roamed over the actual battle area,
attacking German defensive positions, shooting up buildings known
to house headquarters, strafing troop concentrations and destroying
transport. Altogether during the twenty-four hours of 6 June, the
Strategic and Tactical Air Forces flew 10,585 sorties in addition to
those flown by the transport commands in the paratroop and glider
operations.
German air operations presented a remarkable contrast. Throughout the day there was no sign of the Luftwaffe over the beaches,
and it was almost dark before the British troops saw their first
hostile aircraft. Then four Heinkels sneaked in and managed to
scatter their bomb loads near the Canadian positions before a
squadron of Spitfires pounced upon them. None got away. Altogether
on 6 June the Germans flew only 319 sorties over France, and all
but a few of these were driven back or shot down. Convinced that
the first assault would be a feint, they did not move reserves until
late the next day, by which time they found their forward airfields
had been heavily bombed. Allied command of the air thus went
virtually unchallenged. Eloquent proof of this supremacy came
towards the evening of D Day with a bold mass landing of gliders
in broad daylight. This operation took place just when the Germans
were preparing a counter stroke to isolate the British forces in the
Orne Valley that were covering the vital northern flank. Of 249
gliders which crossed the coast, only one failed to make its proper
landfall and this was shot down by flak. The reinforcements they
brought doubled the strength of 6th Airborne Division in one swift
stroke and brought great relief to its weary parachute battalions.
The failure of the Luftwaffe served to increase the confusion
and uncertainty that marked initial enemy reaction to the Allied
landings. The Germans had not expected the assault to be launched
at a time when the weather was so unsettled, and with their reconnaissance aircraft swept from the sky and communications disrupted
by bombing, it was some time before adequate information got back
to Hitler and even more before coherent orders were issued from
higher headquarters to the fighting formations. Moreover, the
Germans were convinced that the Normandy landings were merely
a diversion and only the prelude to the main invasion that was to
be launched against the Pas de Calais. How little was realised in
Berlin or Paris of the magnitude of Allied operations is shown by
Hitler's order, fantastic in retrospect, that the bridgehead must be
‘cleaned up by midnight.’ The Germans completely misunderstood
the scope and purpose of the assault, and this in turn affected
decisions regarding calling in reinforcements from northern France.
On top of this no co-ordinated plan had been made to deal with a
major onslaught in Normandy. There was, in fact, a fundamental
disagreement between Field Marshal Karl von Rundstedt, who was
Commander-in-Chief West, and Field Marshal Erwin Rommel, the
erstwhile hero of North Africa, whom Hitler had placed in command
of the armies holding the Channel coast. Rundstedt had favoured
a system of defence in depth, holding strongly only the most
vulnerable sections of the coast and the major ports, but Rommel
staked all on defeating the Allied armies on the beaches. ‘The first
twenty-four hours,’ he had declared, ‘will be decisive.’ Although
Hitler preferred Rommel's more aggressive ideas and placed upon
him the primary responsibility for repelling the invasion, the conflict
had never been finally resolved. Thus, from the outset, did the
Germans pave the way for their eventual defeat in Normandy.
Following the success of their initial assault the Allied armies
began to fight their way inland in order to gain sufficient depth
for assembling the large forces and supplies needed to develop their
plan of campaign. A period of hard and incessant fighting was
anticipated in which Rommel, with characteristic vigour, would make
desperate efforts to contain the British and American troops to the
beachheads he had been unable to prevent them from securing.
Therefore, it was of paramount importance that the Germans
should be denied freedom of movement for preparing a successful
counter-attack and prevented from bringing supplies and reinforce-
mentsreinforcements into the battle zone. It was to these ends that the Allied air
forces now directed their collective striking power.
Bridges, railways, and road junctions both within the battle area
and on the routes leading to it were the principal targets; the heavy
bombers concentrated on rail marshalling yards and junctions while
the medium and fighter-bombers attacked bridges and lines and
maintained constant patrols along both roads and railways. All but
two of the Seine bridges below Paris had been cut by Allied bombers
before D Day and now these were demolished, together with the
principal road and rail bridges across the Loire. Thus the battle
area in Normandy was almost completely isolated except for the
routes which led into it through the Paris – Orleans gap between the
two rivers, and even there the roads and railways inevitably became
congested, affording rich targets for the fighter-bombers and opportunities for sabotage by French patriots.
The effectiveness of fighter-bomber operations in the early stages
is well illustrated by the experience of the Panzer Lehr Division
commanded by General Bayerlein. Ordered to move towards
Bayeux on the morning of 7 June, his columns were discovered
almost as soon as they took to the road.
‘By noon,’ says Bayerlein, ‘my men were calling the main road from Vire
to Le Beny Bocage, Jaco-Rennstrecke –“fighter-bomber racecourse.” Every
vehicle was covered with branches of trees and moved along hedgerows and
the fringes of woods …. But by the end of the day I had lost forty petrol
waggons and ninety other trucks. Five of my tanks had been knocked out,
as well as eighty-four half-tracks, prime movers and S.P. guns. These losses
were serious for a division not yet in action.’
Bayerlein's Panzer Lehr was one of the two armoured divisions
already in Normandy with which Rommel hoped to counter-attack
the British beachheads. But when this division straggled into Tilly-
sur-Seusses, south of Bayeux, late on the 8th, it was incapable of
serious offensive action.
Widespread confusion and delay were caused to the enemy
attempts at supply and reinforcement from farther afield. The 17th
SS Panzer Grenadier Division which had been based at Thouars,
south of the Loire, began its movement on the very day of the
assault but, after a single day on the rails, cuts produced by bombing
forced several sections to detrain at various points from Le Fleche
in the north to below Saumur in the south. Other elements proceeding by road had hardly begun their march before dive-bombers twice
attacked them, inflicting heavy damage to vehicles, guns, and
personnel. Thereafter the march was continued along secondary
roads and only at night. It took five full days to cover two hundred
miles to the front. Parts of 2 SS Panzer Division were involved in a
later epic of frustration. Tracked elements left Limoges on 11 June
and its tank detachments set out from Toulouse several days after-
wards. The Maquis made the journey through southern France anything but tranquil, but the real trouble began when the nine trains
employed in the movement reached the Loire. Here broken bridges
forced detrainment on the south bank of the river, whence the units
moved across to Angers as best they could. An attempt was made to
continue by rail, but two trains were blocked in open country and
that, as the German railway chief noted, ‘completed the rail move-
ment.’ Thereafter, and with important parts of the division still stuck
far back at Angers, the order for all was a ‘road march’. Not until
the closing days of the month were elements of 2 Panzer Division
identified on the fighting front.
Such a ‘pilgrim's progress’ was the lot of many other units headed
for the battlefield. In general, rail movements originating east of the
Seine ended not far west of the French capital. Approximately half
the troops coming from the south were forced to detrain below the
Loire barrier and those who got across advanced no more than fifty
miles further by rail. The German summary of troop movements in
June indicates that few trains reached their destination; ‘Landmarsch’
is the laconic entry which concludes most of its descriptions. In
retrospect, von Rundstedt gave his opinion that even had a greater
number of divisions been available for his use, the net result of any
effort to bring them into action could have only brought about an
increase in the confusion which prevailed.
German supplies of fuel were already short on the Normandy
battlefront as a result of the earlier bombing. To aggravate that
shortage and also to strike at supplies of ammunition, medium and
fighter-bombers made repeated attacks against the forest areas
sheltering the enemy's forward dumps. Exact measurement of the
contribution thus made to the enemy's critical shortage can never
be determined, but beyond doubt his difficulties were increased. The
destruction of two million litres of gasoline at Rennes and the firing
of fuel supplies at Vire and oil storage tanks at Tours certainly
involved no small local loss. The needs of 2 SS Panzer Division, for
example, were such that fuel was ordered to be flown to its relief
on 13 June. Yet two weeks later its commander was forced to report
that ‘the attacking panzer units cannot bring up all their tanks
owing to the lack of fuel.’
German military centres were also attacked with notable success.
On 10 June the battle headquarters of Panzer Group West was
located in an orchard at La Caine, 12 miles south of Caen. Here
General der Panzertruppen Freiherr Geyr von Schweppenburg was
completing the final details of Rommel's plan for an offensive that
was to split the invasion front. Geyr had commanded an armoured
corps with some success in Russia but he had never before taken
the field against an opponent who held command of the air and he
did not trouble to camouflage his headquarters at La Caine, where
four large wireless trucks and several office caravans and tents stood
in the open. On the previous day, British Intelligence had located
Geyr's headquarters and reconnaissance aircraft had confirmed its
position. That evening the RAF bombed it so accurately that little
was left of the headquarters except its surprised and enraged com-
mander. According to one eye-witness, all the staff officers were
killed or wounded, the wireless trucks and most of the transport
were knocked out. It was twelve hours before Seventh Army learnt
of the disaster. The wounded Geyr and his shattered headquarters
were then withdrawn to Paris to recuperate.
Altogether the disruption and confusion caused by the air attacks
was such that Rommel's attempts to drive the Allies back into the
sea were doomed from the outset. Compelled to commit his formations piecemeal as they arrived in the battle area, he was unable to
assemble sufficient strength at any point for a decisive breakthrough
to the coast. On 12 June he reported to Berlin: ‘The strength of the
enemy on land is increasing appreciably more quickly than our
reserves can reach the front …. Our position is becoming exceptionally difficult since the enemy can cripple the movement of our forces
throughout the day while he himself operates under cover of very
strong aircraft formations.’
By this time the Allied beachheads had been firmly linked into a
continuous front covering some fifty miles and varying in depth
from eight to twelve miles. On and off the beaches the men of the
supply services were performing prodigies of achievement under
most difficult conditions. Rough weather persisted and the problems
of unloading vast numbers of men and vehicles and thousands of
tons of stores over beaches strewn with mines and obstacles were
complicated by the heavy seas which swamped many of the small
ferries. Nevertheless, by the end of the sixth day 326,000 men,
54,000 vehicles, and 104,000 tons of stores had been landed in
Normandy. This was considerably less than the planned schedule,
but during the second week, as the protected anchorages were
completed and the artificial harbours began to take shape, the supply
situation improved considerably.
As this build-up continued, the Allied armies strove to extend
their foothold and prepare for the eventual breakout across France.
Montgomery's plan, as previously drawn up, was for the Americans
to overrun the Cotentin peninsula and capture the port of
Cherbourg. With a supply base thus assured, they were to carry out
a big wheel right round towards the Seine, against which they were
to drive the Germans. The British Army group on the left was, in
the first instance, to attract to itself the maximum weight of German
armour by its threat of a direct advance towards Paris; it was then
to wheel round on the hinge of the Orne and advance on the Seine
in co-operation with the Americans.
But now elemental nature, which had nearly strangled the whole
Allied enterprise at birth, intervened once again and threatened
disaster. Before dawn on 19 June a furious and unexpected gale
sprang up in the Channel. On the south coast of England convoys
were driven back to port; in mid-Channel tows broke loose and were
lost, among them twenty-two sections representing more than two
and a half miles of floating roadway for the piers of the artificial
harbours; off the Normandy beaches, ships and craft dragged their
anchors and were dashed ashore; beneath the turbulent waters
dormant pressure mines were activated by the surge of the sea and
added to the losses caused by the storm. During the following days
the artificial harbours began to disintegrate and unloading virtually
came to a halt. The discharge of stores and ammunition, which had
reached a peak of 24,412 tons on 18 June, fell to 4560 tons on the
20th. After four days the fury of the gale gradually abated, but high
seas continued to hinder the work of salvage and unloading. Some
eight hundred craft lay stranded on the beaches, most of them
damaged, while wreckage was strewn over the sands along the
whole invasion coastline.
Before the storm subsided the ammunition stocks of both the
Allied armies were dangerously low. Conditions would seem to have
been ideal for a major German counter-attack. But it did not come.
So extensive was the dislocation of his rail and road communications
that, instead of being able to gather forces for a decisive blow, the
enemy was hard put to it even to hold the invading armies. The
Americans had already cut across the Cotentin peninsula and
reached the west coast by 18 June. A week later they were fighting
in the streets of Cherbourg and the thunder of German demolitions
in the port area reverberated from the surrounding hills. Cherbourg
fell on 26 June, but the port had been blocked and demolished with
exceptional thoroughness and it was nearly two months before it
could be restored to full use. Along the remainder of the front there
was continuous fighting, but with only local gains and almost stalemate on the eastern sector. In front of Caen, which unfortunately
had not been taken in the first rush, the British armies met particularly fierce resistance; by 30 June they were engaging in this region
the greater part of seven panzer divisions – two-thirds of the total
German armoured strength in Normandy. This was, however, more
or less as Montgomery had planned, and the Caen sector now
became the crucible in which the German armour was melted away.
Throughout these weeks the Allied air forces continued to enjoy
almost complete supremacy over the battle area and indeed over
much of Nazi-occupied Western Europe. Heavy bombers from both
the Royal Air Force and the United States Air Force continued
their campaign against enemy communications, airfields, and fuel
dumps; they also made several notable attacks against oil plants
and refineries in Germany. Medium and fighter-bombers were
particularly active in direct support of the ground troops, striking
persistent blows at enemy strongpoints, concentrations of troops,
vehicles and armour; they also used cannon, rocket projectile, and
bomb to good effect against enemy movement by road and rail.
By the end of June thirty squadrons of the Allied Tactical Air
Forces were operating from bases in the Normandy bridgehead.
Previously they had been compelled to fly from airfields in southern
England, but as soon as a foothold was gained in Normandy work
began on the preparation of landing strips. Unfortunately the
number of strips that could be provided was restricted by the delay
in capturing sufficient ground in the most suitable area to the east
and south-east of Caen. Nor was the operation of aircraft from
Normandy without its difficulties. The light, dusty soil was found
to contain a high proportion of abrasive silica which shortened the
life of engines and made efficient servicing and maintenance far
from easy. A certain amount of trouble was also experienced from
enemy artillery fire, particularly on the strips which were built alongside the main road from Caen to Bayeux. The Germans could
observe the take-off and landing of aircraft on these forward
grounds, some of which had to be evacuated when the casualty rate
from shelling became too high. Nevertheless, operations in close
support of the ground forces continued at high pressure; during
July Second Tactical Air Force alone flew more that 27,800 sorties
over Normandy.
The activities of the Luftwaffe were in striking contrast to this
intense Allied air effort. Apart from sporadic attacks on the assault
area, they were limited to cautious patrolling by day and sea mining
by a small number of heavy bombers at night. Nearly 800 single-engined fighters had been transferred from Germany to the West
in the first fortnight of the invasion, but Luftflotte 3 was never
able to challenge Allied command of the air because of the disruption of its ground organisation. Galland, Commander-in-Chief
of the Luftwaffe fighter arm, has told how, when the transfer began,
most of the carefully prepared and provisioned airfields had been
bombed out and units had to land at hastily chosen landing grounds.
The poor signals network broke down and this caused further
confusion. Because of the indifferent navigating ability of many of
the pilots, accustomed to flying under an expert fighter control
system in Germany, many units came down in the wrong place. The
alternative airfields were too few, poorly camouflaged and badly
supplied. The main ground parties came by rail and in most cases
days or weeks late. Subsequently the slightest sign of activity sufficed
to betray an airfield to alert Allied reconnaissance and this resulted
in prompt visits by low-flying fighters. In the first two weeks more
than half the German fighters sent to France were destroyed, and
the supply of replacements became difficult for the Luftwaffe was
now confronted with another danger which threatened its very
survival.
In moving his main fighter strength to France, Goering had
anticipated that, while the Normandy battle was raging, there would
be few large-scale raids on Germany itself. In the middle of June,
however, the United States Air Force resumed its campaign against
the synthetic oil plants upon which the Luftwaffe relied for almost
the whole of its fuel. During May American bombing had reduced
the average daily output of aviation spirit from 5850 tons to 2800,
mainly because production was completely interrupted at the two
main refineries, Leuna and Politz. A week after D Day the third
largest plant, Gelsenkirchen, ceased operations after a night attack
by RAF Bomber Command. Total production of aviation spirit for
June fell to 53,000 tons as compared with 175,000 tons in April.
Speer warned Hitler of the danger to Germany's oil supplies and
advocated the strictest economy and a substantial increase in
protective measures, particularly fighter aircraft. But since the start
of the invasion the day-fighter strength in Germany itself had fallen
from 991 to 544 machines, and it had been prevented from falling
still farther only by the dangerous expedient of bringing instructional
units into the front line. German fighter production was greater than
ever and continuing to rise, but it was not increasing fast enough to
keep pace with losses.
In the three months ending 30 June, 4545 single-engined fighters were delivered from
German factories, but during the same period 5527 were destroyed in action, in accidents,
or on the ground. These severe casualties were an indication both of the intensity of the
air fighting over Germany and of the relative deterioration in the quality of German
pilots and machines.
Therefore, to meet the fresh crisis created
by the heavy bomber attacks on the ‘oil front’, Goering was
compelled to curtail the westward flow of fighter replacements and
to retain in Germany twenty-five squadrons which had come back
to refit. This left only some forty squadrons in the West as against
sixty-three in Germany. Thus the strategic bombers helped to create
for the rest of the Allied air forces an opportunity to roam almost
unopposed over France and the Low Countries, ravaging and disrupting enemy supply lines and installations.
Persistent bad weather and the shortage of airfields in the bridgehead prevented the air forces from maintaining a complete blockade
on all troop movements to the battle area. Even so, the reinforcement
of Normandy was painfully slow. After seven weeks the Germans
had succeeded in bringing up only some twenty divisions to support
the eight which were in western Normandy at the outset, and very
few of these divisions arrived at full strength or in good condition.
Most of them straggled up, a battalion or regiment at a time, and
were flung into battle in such haste and disorder that they suffered
heavy casualties before they had time to settle down. And while
reserves might arrive slowly replacements came hardly at all.
Between 6 June and 23 July the German Seventh Army and Panzer
Group West lost 116,863 killed, wounded, or missing, but only
10,078 men were sent up from the training depots. The equipment
situation was equally grave; of the 250 tanks destroyed in the first
six weeks, only seventeen appear to have been replaced. Although
the shortage of reinforcements was largely due to the exhaustion of
the general pool of manpower, failure to make good the tank losses
resulted directly from the Allied bombing of railways. At no time
during the entire war was German tank production higher than in
May, June, and July of 1944. In these three months 2313 tanks were
accepted from the factories and in the same period the losses were
1730. The Germans had the tanks but they could not transport them
to the western front.
Moreover, it was as a direct result of Allied air attacks on communications that eighteen divisions of the German Army were kept
immobilised in the Pas de Calais area throughout June and the first
half of July. These divisions were separated from the Normandy
battlefront by the barrier of the Seine, since every road and rail
bridge across that river between Paris and the sea had now been
wrecked. Rommel would have liked to move some at least of these
divisions into Normandy, but the fear of a second landing persisted
and he knew that once a division was moved from the Pas de Calais
to Normandy it could not be moved back again in time to meet a
second landing. Thus by their continued attacks on communications
the air forces gravely curtailed the enemy's strategic mobility and
so enabled the Allies to win the battle of the build-up in spite of
setbacks caused by the June storms in the Channel. By the beginning
of July about 1,000,000 men, including thirteen American, eleven
British, and one Canadian division, had been landed in Normandy.
In the same period just over 566,640 tons of supplies and 171,532
vehicles had been put ashore. This accomplishment was soon to pay
large dividends.
The Germans were even less successful in attacking Allied supply
lines than they were in protecting their own. In his plans for disrupting the Allied seaborne invasion Admiral Doenitz had relied
mainly on the bold employment of his U-boats and a fleet of small
but fast surface craft. He expected that the new type of U-boats,
along with the older ones fitted with the ‘Schnorkel’ device, would
be able to operate successfully even in the shallow waters of the
Channel. However, by the beginning of June 1944, only two of the
revolutionary electro U-boats had been completed and the programme for their mass production was already three or four months
behind schedule. This was largely because of the dislocation caused
by Allied bombing. The prototype of the new submarine had been
destroyed in an air raid on Kiel, whereupon the Germans had
decided to continue mass production without waiting for another
prototype to be finished and tested. As a result faults in design
were not discovered until after assembly or, worse still, until trials
were carried out at sea. Moreover, in the hope of saving time and
escaping from bombing, the production of parts and sections had
been farmed out to firms which had never been engaged in naval
construction before and whose workers lacked the necessary skill and
precision.
Because of these delays, Doenitz was forced to rely upon the
older type of U-boat, a fleet of which was gathered in the Biscay
ports. His efforts to transfer reinforcements from Norway and the
Baltic had, however, met with disaster. Not being fitted with
Schnorkel, these submarines were obliged to fight it out on the
surface with aircraft of RAF Coastal Command in the waters to the
north of Scotland. Only a few succeeded in getting through; nine
were sunk or badly damaged; the rest turned back. This defeat left
Doenitz with only forty-two serviceable U-boats in the French
Biscay ports when the invasion began. By that time six of them had
been equipped and tested with Schnorkel but they were hardly battle-
worthy. Nevertheless, on the afternoon of 6 June, they set out from
Brest, and at dark the other thirty-six sailed from Biscay ports. These
travelled on the surface in the hope of making good the time lost
by lack of warning, but they were soon picked up by the Allied air
patrols. In the next few days twelve of them were sunk or damaged
too severely to proceed, and on 12 June the remainder were ordered
back to port. Ever the six which had been converted made slow
progress up the Channel. Some were damaged by air attack while
others developed technical faults, and in the end not one single
U-boat reached the assault area in the first three weeks after D Day.
On 28 June one merchantman was lost to submarine attack in the
assault area and another was torpedoed the following day, but after
that U-boats accounted for only one more merchant vessel in the
invasion area during July.
German surface craft were similarly unsuccessful. Neither
destroyers from St. Nazaire nor torpedo boats from Le Havre and
Cherbourg were able to avoid the relentless patrols which screened
the shipping corridor. The only German counter measure which
caused any real anxiety was the pressure mine laid in the anchorages
by low-flying aircraft, but constant and courageous sweeping kept
this menace in check.
Enemy resistance, bad weather, and the nature of the terrain
combined to delay the final all-out attack by the Allied armies until
25 July. In the interim they continued to battle for position and to
build up the great reserves that would be needed to sustain their
advance once they got into the open. While the British Second
Army maintained incessant pressure on the Caen sector to contain the
enemy's armoured strength, the United States forces in the Cherbourg
peninsula fought their way southward to gain ground for the break-
out, which was now to be limited to the right flank. These weeks of
battle along the whole front involved some of the fiercest and most
bloody fighting of the whole campaign. In his efforts to prevent a
breakout the enemy fought desperately, but before the end of July his
armies, unprotected from the air, unbalanced on the ground,
exhausted in battle and starved of supplies and reinforcements, were
ripe for defeat.
Allied air operations over the battlefield during these weeks are
best illustrated by extracts from captured enemy records. On 6 July
the German 84 Corps reported: ‘The enemy controls the air to such
an extent that movement on the roads is impossible. The enemy
artillery guided by aerial observation is able to destroy our infantry
in their defensive positions without exposing itself to any kind of
retaliation.’ The same story was told on 17 July by General von
Luttwitz, who commanded 2 Panzer Division: ‘The enemy have
complete mastery of the air. They bomb and strafe every movement,
even single vehicles and soldiers. They reconnoitre our area constantly and direct their artillery fire. Against all this the Luftwaffe
is conspicuous by its complete absence. During the last four weeks
the total number of German aircraft over the divisional area was
six ….’
Meanwhile confusion and uncertainty reigned in the German
higher command. At the end of June, Rommel had proposed to
Hitler that the Seventh Army should fight a rearguard action back
to the Seine and then create a new line along that river and across
to Switzerland. The latest British offensive had been stopped only
by committing his entire reserves. If the withdrawal from Normandy
did not begin immediately the Seventh Army would be destroyed.
But Hitler would not hear of any withdrawal, not even of tactical
adjustment of the line for better defence. As always, his orders
were to stand fast. He appeared to be encouraged by the outcome of
the Caen battle, regarding it as proof that the Allies could be
prevented from breaking out into France.
As the imminence of disaster in Normandy became evident, the
disagreements among Hitler and his generals grew more violent.
After the fall of Cherbourg and the failure of the German counter-attack in front of Caen, Keitel is said to have telephoned from
Berlin, complaining bitterly about the trend of events.
‘What shall we do?’, cried the despairing Keitel, ‘What shall we
do?’
Von Rundstedt, who was no ardent Nazi but a soldier of the old
school, replied impassively, ‘What shall you do? Make peace you
fools, what else can you do?’
Keitel told Hitler of this remark, and the following day Rundstedt
was relieved of his post as Commander-in-Chief West.
A fortnight later, on 17 July, Rommel was struck down. Returning
to his headquarters from a survey of the front, his car was spotted
by Allied aircraft. As the planes roared down to attack, Rommel
shouted to the driver to race for shelter in the next village, but the
fighters were too swift. His driver was killed at the wheel, the car
crashed into a tree, and Rommel sustained severe concussion when
he was hurled on to the road. He was carried unconscious into a
nearby village which, ironically enough, was called Ste. Foy de
Montgommery. Rommel recovered, but he had become implicated
in the plot to assassinate Hitler and was forced to commit suicide less
than three months later.
On 20 July an attempt was made by a disaffected group to assassinate Hitler with a bomb
placed in his conference room. The attempt nearly succeeded. Three officers standing
beside him were killed outright but Hitler survived with only minor injuries.
Field Marshal von Kluge was now Commander-in-Chief West
with orders from Hitler to ‘throw the enemy back into the sea.’ He
had taken up his post with enthusiasm but, after an inspection of
the front, he reported to Hitler on 22 July in these words: ‘Within
a short time the enemy will succeed in breaking through our thinly
held front, especially that of Seventh Army, and in thrusting deep
into France …. The force is fighting heroically everywhere but the
unequal struggle is nearing its end.’ His gloomy prophecy was soon
fulfilled. Three days later, on 25 July, the American Army, under
General Bradley, struck south from St. Lo.
The attack was preceded by a massive air bombardment. It fell
mainly upon the sector held by Bayerlein's panzer division and a
regiment of paratroops. Wherever possible the German tanks had
been placed in the entrances of hedged lanes but even this natural
protection did not save them.
‘The planes kept coming over as if on a conveyor belt,’ says Bayerlein, ‘and
the bomb carpets unrolled in great rectangles. My flak had hardly opened its
mouth when the batteries received direct hits which knocked out half of the
guns and silenced the rest. After an hour I had no communication with any-
body, even by radio. By noon, nothing was visible but dust and smoke. My
front lines looked like the face of the moon and at least seventy per cent of
my troops were out of action – dead, wounded, crazed or numbed – all my
forward tanks were knocked out and the roads were practically impassable.’
The American attack made rapid progress. Slashing his way down
to the base of the Cherbourg peninsula, Bradley passed through the
bottleneck at Avranches and launched his columns into the rear
of the German forces. Meanwhile the British armies under
Montgomery's direction shifted the weight of their attack from the
Caen sector to their right at Caumont and drove for the high ground
between the Vire and the Orne.
With a clean and decisive breakout now achieved, the immediate
task was to inflict the greatest possible destruction on the enemy by
encircling his forces which were still compelled to face generally
northward against the British and Canadians. This Bradley proceeded
to do. However, as the American attacks gathered momentum to the
southward, Hitler ordered von Kluge to move westward all available armour and reserves to counter-attack against the narrow strip
through which American forces were pouring deep into his rear.
Bitter fighting ensued around Mortain but, thanks to the timely
intervention of the Allied air forces, the German thrust was held
and then thrown back. Low-flying attacks by RAF Typhoons using
rocket projectiles were particularly effective in breaking up enemy
formations and destroying their tanks and vehicles.
By the end of the first week in August the battle in Normandy
had assumed this overall picture: Montgomery's Army Group was
attacking southward from the old Normandy beachhead while
Bradley's forces, with their left anchored near the initial break-
through, were carrying out a great encircling movement designed
to trap the entire German forces in the Mortain – Falaise region. In
the meantime the Allied air forces kept up an incessant battering
against any possible crossings of the Seine so as to impede the
escape of German forces to the north of that river before the trap
could be closed. They also operated intensively over the Falaise area
where they found rich targets – long columns of enemy transport
packed bumper to bumper and rendered immobile by appalling
congestion as the Germans began their headlong retreat. Soon the
countryside was littered with the wreckage of vehicles and
equipment.
Complete co-ordination of the great enveloping movement proved
difficult to achieve. With the mass of the Allied armies attacking
from the perimeter of a large half-circle towards a common centre,
determination of the exact points at which each element should halt
in order not to become involved against friendly units coming from
the opposite direction proved a tricky problem. ‘Mix ups on the
front occurred,’ says Eisenhower, ‘and there was no way to stop
them except by halting troops in places even at the cost of allowing
some Germans to escape.’ In the event considerable numbers of
Germans did succeed in getting back across the Seine, but only at
the cost of heavy casualties and after almost completely abandoning
their heavy equipment. Eight infantry divisions and two panzer
divisions, however, were captured almost in their entirety.
By the middle of August the Allied armies were sweeping forward
towards the Seine on a broad front. The citizens of Paris now rose
in revolt and on 25 August they surged out to meet the advancing
Allied columns. By dawn the next morning American cavalry stood
before the cathedral of Notre Dame and French armour was driving
in triumph down the Champs Élysées. The Battle of Normandy was
over and, with Paris liberated and the Germans in full retreat to
the north of the Seine, it seemed that the Battle of France was also
won.
* * * * *
During these historic months New Zealanders, both air and
ground crews, served with all the principal RAF formations – with
Second Tactical Air Force, Bomber, Coastal and Transport Com-
mands, and in the Air Defence of Great Britain. The Dominion
contribution, including the six New Zealand squadrons in Europe,
amounted to some 3850 men, of whom the large majority were air-
crew. Their record of service and achievement in the air operations
over Normandy is a notable one.
Air Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham's work as field commander
of the Allied Expeditionary Air Force was particularly outstanding.
A dynamic personality, extremely popular with his staff, Coningham
had come to this post after a highly successful career in the Middle
East, where his co-ordination of the American and British air effort
within that command and his whole-hearted support of the British
Eighth Army had contributed in large measure to the victory in
North Africa. Now Coningham was to repeat this success in France,
and under his direction the tactical air forces achieved spectacular
results in close-support operations, in restricting enemy movement
of supplies and reinforcements, and in maintaining air supremacy
over the battle area.
Coningham's task was more difficult than appeared at the time
for Montgomery, brilliant army commander though he was, did not
prove easy of access when it came to co-ordinating land and air
operations. Moreover, difficulties and misunderstandings arose over
the failure to capture sufficient ground in the early stages for the
development of airfields in the area south-east of Caen. Coningham,
eager to deploy his squadrons in Normandy as soon as possible,
fretted at the delay. He was much concerned at the waste involved
in the continued location of short-range fighters in England and
anxious lest ‘the rate of effort which could be maintained over
Normandy would be insufficient to maintain air superiority, to harass
the enemy communications and delay the build-up of enemy ground
forces, which could otherwise concentrate in superior numbers
against the bridgehead.’ In the event, thanks to the superb efforts
of both air and ground crews, the delay proved less serious than
was at first imagined.
Probably the most spectacular achievement of Coningham's
squadrons during the campaign was their contribution to the defeat
of the German counter-attack at Mortain and the subsequent
destruction of the German force in the Falaise pocket. At Mortain
on 7 August, it will be remembered, the Germans launched an all-out
attack to cut off the American advance at the narrow Avranches gap.
It was supported by the best of the German panzer divisions. A
report of the day's events tells how:
As the morning wore on, it became all too clear that the enemy was
making a desperate attempt to reach the sea and cut off the Avranches
corridor. German heavy tanks continued to lumber through the mist and the
American attempts to halt them with bazookas and anti-tank guns were without much avail. At mid-day, the mist lifted and fighters and fighter-bombers
of the Tactical Air Force went into action. The first two RAF squadrons to
take off from advanced landing grounds in the bridgehead spotted some 50
to 60 tanks and 200 vehicles filling a hedge-lined road. The Typhoons
swept down to attack the front and rear of the column and brought it to a
halt amidst great confusion. Soon a ‘shuttle service’ of fighters and fighter-bombers was in operation; flight after flight sought out their targets, attacked
with cannon and rocket projectile and then returned to base to refuel and
re-arm. Many tanks were destroyed or disabled but the greatest destruction
was wrought amongst the soft or unarmoured vehicles. The moral effect of
the rocket attacks appears to have been even greater than the material damage
they caused. Enemy tank crews and drivers were seen to abandon their charges
and run to cover under the trees and hedgerows. By late afternoon, the situation had eased. Later that evening, the Luftwaffe admitted that they had been
so hard pressed by Allied fighters on taking off from their bases that the
German fighters were unable to reach the Mortain area. There is no doubt
that the intervention of the Tactical Air Force on this day was both timely
and decisive. The critical attack by enemy armour was broken up and though
bitter fighting continued for the next four days, the Germans failed to make
any further progress.
New Zealand fighter pilots who held senior posts under
Coningham at this time were Group Captain P. G. Jameson, in
command of a mobile wing of Mustang fighters, Group Captain
P. L. Donkin, in charge of a fighter reconnaissance wing, and Group
Captain D. J. Scott, commanding a four-squadron Typhoon wing.
Wing Commander R. F. Aitken was in charge of a night-fighter
airfield while Wing Commanders A. C. Deere, J. M. Checketts, and
W. V. Crawford-Compton each led RAF fighter wings. Spitfire
squadrons were commanded by Squadron Leaders M. G. Barnett,
J. C. F. Hayter,
Squadron Leader J. C. F. Hayter, DFC and bar; born Canterbury, 18 Oct 1917; joined
RNZAFNov 1938; transferred RAFAug 1939 and RNZAFAug 1944; commanded
No. 274 Sqdn, Middle East, 1942; No. 74 Sqdn, Middle East and Europe, 1943-44.
J. N. Mackenzie,
Squadron Leader J. N. Mackenzie, DFC; born Goodwood, 11 Aug 1914; joined RAF1937; transferred RNZAFJan 1944; commanded No. 488 (NZ) Sqdn, Singapore, 1942;
No. 64 Sqdn, 1944.
R. L. Spurdle, and D. F.
Westenra; Typhoon fighter-bombers were led by Squadron Leader
A. H. Smith and Mustangs by Squadron Leader E. L. Joyce.
Squadron Leader E. L. Joyce, DFM; born Hamilton, 17 Feb 1920; salesman; joined
RNZAF11 Mar 1940; commanded No. 73 Sqdn, Italy, 1943, and No. 122 Sqdn, 1944;
killed on air operations, 18 Jun 1944.
Three
New Zealand units, No. 485 Spitfire squadron, No. 487 Mosquito
bomber squadron and No. 488 Mosquito night-fighter squadron,
were each to play their part in operations with the Second Tactical
Air Force. No.486 Tempest Squadron also operated over Normandy
during the early stages before it was called upon to patrol against
the flying bombs.
During the assault itself, New Zealand fighter pilots shared in a
wide variety of missions; they patrolled over the beaches and
shipping off the coast, escorted bombers to their targets, and
protected the formations of gliders with their tugs as they streamed
inland carrying reinforcements to the troops holding the flanks of
the landing area. Enemy opposition in the air was less than
anticipated and at first relatively few combats were reported. How-
ever, it is of interest to record that Flying Officer Lelong
Flight Lieutenant R. E. Lelong, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 12 Dec 1917; carpenter;
joined RNZAFJan 1942.
of No.
605 Mosquito Squadron was the first pilot to destroy an enemy aircraft in support of the Normandy landings. Flying an ‘Intruder’
patrol over the German airfield at Evreux on the eve of D Day,
he sighted and attacked a Messerschmitt 410 which went down and
blew up on the ground. Four nights later Lelong shot down a
Junkers 88 over an airfield near Paris.
From the outset there was ample scope for action against ground
targets, and as the land battle developed Spitfires, Mustangs, and
Typhoons were employed more and more in close-support operations.
These were of three main types– armed reconnaissance in search
of enemy movement, fighter cover, and attacks in the actual battle
area by aircraft carrying bombs or rocket projectiles. The emphasis
on each of these tasks naturally varied with the progress of the land
battle. Thus throughout July, when the front in Normandy was
fairly static, the defence of the bridgehead with its vulnerable
concentrations of equipment and supplies was of great importance
and fighter patrols accounted for a large number of sorties. How-
ever, in August, as the battle became more fluid, reconnaissance and
attack became the main tasks. When a call came for support in
connection with an army movement such as an advance due to begin
at a certain hour, then the air attack would be planned in some detail
and the crews briefed accordingly. But often during the land fighting
word might be received from a reconnaissance aircraft or through
army forward posts that a collection of German transport or tanks
or a concentration of troops had been found at a certain point, and
it would be necessary to take action with the minimum of delay.
Squadrons or wings would immediately be notified of the target and
pilots would take off as quickly as possible to make their attack.
Frequently aircraft were maintained on patrol near the front lines
under the orders of an air force officer in a radio-equipped tank or
armoured car. Such visual control posts, as they were known, proved
of great value, for they not only enabled fighters and fighter-bombers
to be employed in the closest co-operation with the ground forces
but also minimised the danger of attack on our own troops and
positions.
Jameson's wing had outstanding success in its operations over
Normandy, claiming eighty-five enemy aircraft destroyed between
D Day and the end of August as well as large quantities of enemy
transport destroyed or damaged. A fine record, particularly against
ground targets, was also established by Scott's wing. In clear weather
his Typhoons flew as many as four missions a day while still based
in England; and their rocket projectiles were fired with deadly effect
against enemy gun positions, tanks and transport, railways and
bridges, as well as buildings used by the Germans as headquarters
and supply centres. The Spitfire wings led by Crawford-Compton,
Checketts, and Wells also had notable success in their patrols over
Normandy. Compton's squadrons saw more action than most and
during the first month Compton himself shot down four enemy
machines. Other fighter pilots who had successful combats in the
early stages were Flight Lieutenant Mason
Flight Lieutenant L. G. Mason, DFC; born Johnsonville, 26 May 1919; tailor's cutter;
joined RNZAFJul 1940.
of No. 33 Squadron and
Flight Lieutenant B. G. Collyns of No. 19 Squadron. On one sortie
Mason set a Focke-Wulf on fire and then attacked a Messerschmitt
fighter which blew up in mid-air. Collyns was credited with the
destruction of six enemy machines, as well as several probables,
before he was shot down in a battle east of Paris. Flight Lieutenants
Brough
Squadron Leader E. T. Brough, DFC; born Owaka, 20 Jun 1918; butcher; joined
RNZAFApr 1941; commanded No. 137 Sqdn, 1944.
and Palmer
Flight Lieutenant F. J. M. Palmer; born Auckland, 29 May 1918; storeman; joined
RNZAFJun 1940.
were prominent among those who saw action
with RAF Typhoon squadrons.
The New Zealand Spitfire Squadron was active in patrol and
attack from the outset. During the afternoon of D Day squadron
pilots, flying the third patrol of the day, destroyed two enemy
bombers over Normandy. One crashed on a roadway a few miles
north of Carentan after an attack by Flying Officer J. A. Houlton;
the other broke up in mid-air and went down into a field, its
destruction being shared by Houlton and three other pilots. By the
end of the first week the New Zealanders had accounted for seven
more enemy machines, most of the combats taking place at dawn
or dusk. Flying Officer Yeatman,
Flight Lieutenant J. F. P. Yeatman, DFC; born Brighton, England, 17 Feb 1919; clerk;
joined RNZAFMar 1941.
a Malta veteran, shared a Focke-Wulf with Flight Sergeant Eyre,
Flying Officer M. H. Eyre; born Auckland, 7 Aug 1923; farmhand; joined RNZAFMar 1942.
and then during a patrol over Caen
Flying Officers Houlton, Stead,
Flight Lieutenant A. B. Stead, DFC; born Wellington, 26 Aug 1920; warehouseman;
joined RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 6 Jan 1945.
and Transom
Flight Lieutenant F. Transom; born Taihape, 12 Oct 1921; student teacher; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
and Pilot Officer
Patterson
Flying Officer H. W. B. Patterson; born Gisborne, 1 Jun 1919; plumber; joined RNZAFOct 1941.
accounted for four more enemy aircraft. A few days
later Houlton claimed his third for the week - a Messerschmitt
fighter-bomber which blew up in mid-air - and on the same patrol
Flight Lieutenant Newenham
Squadron Leader W. A. Newenham, DFC; born Nelson, 23 Jun 1914; salesman; joined
RNZAFOct 1939.
sent another Messerschmitt crashing
into a wood. After this fine start, however, the squadron had no
further luck during June for its patrols were confined to the beach-
head, where enemy machines seldom appeared during daylight.
Day after day the Spitfires continued to fly across the Channel from
their base at Selsey, in Sussex, but after the first week they were
sometimes able to use the emergency landing strips in Normandy
for refuelling and re-arming in between patrols, thus saving the
flight to and from England.
During June No. 485 Squadron also made a number of attacks on
flying-bomb sites in northern France and for the next six weeks
devoted its whole effort to the campaign against this weapon. The
Spitfires either carried bombs to these targets or else escorted heavy
bombers there. Few enemy aircraft were sighted and, apart from the
fairly intense flak which usually greeted the British formations over
France, the patrols were uneventful. There was more action when
the squadron returned to the battlefield in mid-August; by this time
the Germans were in full retreat towards the Seine, and in armed
reconnaissance against the retiring columns pilots achieved considerable success. Throughout all these weeks, however, there were no
further combats with enemy aircraft, and by the end of August
No. 485 Squadron had flown 1339 sorties since D Day without
losing a single pilot.
Night fighters played a dual role during the campaign in
Normandy. They patrolled the beachhead and its approaches to
intercept German night bombers and minelaying aircraft and, in
addition, ranged far and wide over enemy airfields, roads, and railways attacking any movement they discovered. No. 488 New
Zealand Mosquito Squadron achieved outstanding success in such
operations. In the eleven weeks from D Day to the end of August,
it claimed no fewer than thirty-four enemy machines for the loss of
only one crew, thereby establishing a record among the night-fighter
squadrons of the Second Tactical Air Force. In every case the enemy
machine was either seen to crash or else its destruction was confirmed by ground sources. Flight Lieutenant G. E. Jameson, with his
English navigator, Flying Officer A. N. Crookes,
Flight Lieutenant A. N. Crookes, DFC and two bars, DFC (US); born New Tupton,
Derbyshire, 23 Dec 1920; joined RAFJul 1941.
did particularly
fine work. One night towards the end of July they shot down no
fewer than four German bombers in twenty minutes - an amazing
performance which was acclaimed throughout the Royal Air Force
as one of the finest night-fighter patrols of the war. The first three
bombers were Ju88s and they crashed within sight of the British
lines at Caen; the fourth, a Dornier 217, nose-dived and exploded
on the ground a few miles south of Lisieux. By the middle of
August Jameson had accounted for another four enemy machines
and, with a total score of eleven, he became New Zealand's leading
night-fighter pilot.
Flight Lieutenant P. F. L. Hall and Flying Officer R. D. Marriott
Wing Commander R. D. Marriott, DFC; born Malacca, Malaya, 9 Jun 1911; joined RAFDec 1941.
were another outstanding squadron crew. Shortly after D Day they
destroyed a Junkers 88 near St. Lo. A few nights later they sent
another down to crash in the beachhead; debris hit the Mosquito
and put an engine out of action, but Hall flew back safely across
the Channel. A few weeks later he and his navigator accounted for
two more bombers over the battle area near Lessay. Flying Officer
‘Doug’ Robinson and his navigator, ‘Cherub’ Keeping,
Flight Lieutenant K. C. Keeping; born Newquay, Cornwall, 22 Sep 1921; joined RAFApr 1940.
also
destroyed four enemy aircraft. In one engagement shortly after
D Day their target, a Focke-Wulf 190 fighter-bomber, blew up in
mid-air and burning petrol scorched the underside of the Mosquito
as it flew over the explosion. Squadron Leader E. N. Bunting and
Pilot Officer McCabe
Flight Lieutenant O. J. McCabe; born Frankton, 18 Apr 1921; civil servant; joined
RNZAFJan 1942.
were other pilots who increased the squadron's
score in the early stages.
No. 488's most successful period came at the beginning of August
when the Germans were sending their bombers over at night in some
strength in a desperate attempt to prevent the Allied armies from
closing the jaws of the Falaise trap. It was one night during this
week that Flight Lieutenant A. E. Browne scored an unusual triple
success. After intercepting and shooting down a Junkers 188 bomber
over the American front near Avranches, he found and chased two
more bombers, one of them over Rennes and the other farther north.
In both cases the German machine was driven down and, whilst
making violent evasive turns, hit the ground and blew up. Browne
did not fire a single shot. The low standard of training among
German aircrews at this stage of the war no doubt had some bearing
on the relative ease with which many of the enemy bombers were
despatched. Nevertheless, it must be emphasised that even at this
period the successful interception and bringing to action of fast
enemy aircraft at night and often in cloudy skies was no easy
matter, the more so since the German crews were now supplied
with liberal quantities of small metallised strips which they threw
out to confuse the radar of the pursuing British aircraft. Patience,
skill, and courage were needed as much as ever and they were not
always rewarded.
New Zealand aircrews were also in action over Normandy both
by night and by day with the medium bomber squadrons. Flying
Bostons, Mitchells and Mosquitos, they ranged far and wide over
and beyond the battlefield attacking bridges, road and rail junctions,
fuel dumps and airfields; they also bombed enemy strongpoints and
gun positions, troop concentrations, tank laagers, and chateaux
suspected of housing enemy headquarters. In one raid shortly after
D Day, four squadrons of Mitchells attacked a German panzer
headquarters near the battle area, and when Canadian troops
captured the position shortly afterwards they found the whole place
cratered and in ruins and the surroundings strewn with wrecked
vehicles and equipment. By night the medium bombers operated
along the whole Allied front for American aircraft did not undertake night operations; by day they were mainly employed ahead of
the British and Canadian armies and as the weeks passed there came
a steady flow of requests for support in ground operations. Typically,
on 22 June, after a call from the 51st Highland Division, seventy-two Mitchells and Bostons made a daylight attack on a steelworks in
Caen which was being used by the Germans as a strongpoint. Crews
saw buildings disintegrate amid masses of smoke and flame, and the
next day a signal was received from the Highland Division expressing their appreciation for ‘an extremely effective attack’. As usual,
anti-aircraft fire in the target area was fairly intense and several
machines were hit, one of them having to make a forced landing
on a fighter strip in the beachhead.
The Mosquito bombers from No. 487 New Zealand Squadron
flew more than nine hundred sorties over Normandy between D Day
and the end of August. During the night before the landings crews
operated against enemy airfields, roads, and bridges in the area of
Caen and St. Lo. Subsequently they went further afield seeking
enemy movement towards the battlefield. Trains were found and
attacked, important crossroads were strafed, and both rail and road
bridges bombed. On the night raids it was seldom possible to see
the full effect of bombing and pilots usually had to return with the
laconic report, ‘No definite result seen.’ By day, however, it was
different. For example, on 11 June when crews attacked petrol
wagons in the marshalling yards at Chatellerault, they started a huge
fire which was still burning twelve hours later. On this occasion the
Mosquitos had taken off from their base at Thorney Island in
Hampshire within an hour of receiving news of the target, and then
had flown through low cloud almost the whole way across the
Channel and northern France.
Other objectives were attacked by day with similar precision.
Early in August Wing Commander I. S. Smith led twelve crews to
bomb the barracks at Poitiers where German troops were assembling
to attack the Maquis in that area. The raid was particularly success-
ful. Of three large barrack blocks one was almost destroyed, another
partially destroyed, and the third, along with other buildings - one
of which contained fifty motor vehicles - was gutted by fire. Photographs showed that only four bombs fell outside the barracks. A
few weeks later the Mosquitos attacked a German SS headquarters
at Vincey, near Metz. The two-hour flight from England was made
at low level through cloud and drizzle, but fortunately at the last
moment the cloud lifted and, as the Mosquitos pulled up over a
hill and prepared for their bombing run, the target stood out clearly.
Direct hits wiped out almost the whole of one large building and
left others in ruins. On this raid the Mosquito flown by Flying
Officer Heaton
Flight Lieutenant E. C. Heaton; born Hastings, 10 Jun 1917; bank clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1942.
was hit by anti-aircraft fire just after leaving the
target and compelled to force-land. However, both Heaton and his
navigator, Warrant Officer Mason,
Flying Officer K. G. Mason; born Wellington, 11 May 1923; apprentice; joined RNZAFNov 1941.
succeeded in evading capture
and, with help from the Maquis, reached the Allied lines eight days
later.
During another raid about the same time one young navigator,
Flying Officer Judson,
Flight Lieutenant W. G. Judson, DFC; born Inglewood, 23 Aug 1922; farmhand;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
showed particular fortitude. While bombing
a railway south of the Loire, his Mosquito was badly hit and Judson
himself seriously wounded. Yet, half conscious and blinded by
blood from injuries to his head and his right eye, Judson navigated
his Mosquito back towards the American lines until his pilot could
no longer retain control. He then baled out and, landing safely,
determined to evade capture. He hid in a hedge until the following
evening, and then, after obtaining food and shelter at an isolated
farmhouse, set off to trek northwards for ten days. Eventually, after
receiving further help and medical attention, he was able to reach
the Allied lines exactly one month after being shot down. Another
member of No. 487 Squadron, Flying Officer Whincop,
Flying Officer G. Whincop, Croix de Guerre (Fr.); born Tauranga, 11 Jun 1922; warehouseman; joined RNZAFOct 1941.
had a
narrow escape when the Gestapo came to search the farmhouse
where he was sheltering after being shot down behind the enemy
lines. However, he was not discovered and soon rejoined the Allied
forces as the tide of battle flowed over the area.
Probably the most successful period for the medium bomber
crews came during the Allied advance to the Seine. The afternoon
of 18 August was particularly eventful. The jaws of the Falaise
trap were about to close and some hundreds of trucks, lorries, and
tanks were spotted moving towards Vimoutiers in a desperate
attempt at last-minute escape. Maximum effort was therefore
directed to this area. Never before had crews seen so many targets
and they were able to attack with comparative immunity. Photographs amply demonstrated the high claims they made. Road blocks
were formed by blazing trucks, and the drivers behind either
abandoned their vehicles or drove off across country to find shelter
in the woods; others turned back, vainly endeavouring to discover
a safer way out. Some troops even spread out white flags on their
vehicles. The area between Trun and Chambois soon became known
as ‘The Shambles’.
This harassing of the retreating enemy in the area to the west of
the Seine by the RAF bombers culminated in their attacks at Rouen
on a block of vehicles to which they were diverted whilst in the air
on 26 August after a report from a reconnaissance machine. Subse-
quently, to the west of the wrecked bridge at Rouen, there was
found a mass of burnt vehicles and equipment including tanks,
armoured cars, and trucks.
For Coastal Command crews the main scene of activity during
these weeks was the English Channel and its approaches. Here they
flew day and night patrols to prevent enemy submarines and surface
craft from interfering with the invasion fleets and the subsequent
supply convoys. Since the German U-boat fleet in the Biscay ports
presented the greatest threat, the main air effort was devoted to the
‘Cork’ patrols - an elaborate system of sweeps and searches designed
to close the western entrance to the Channel. It was in this area
that Squadron Leader M. A. Ensor, flying a Liberator of No. 224
Squadron, depth-charged a U-boat by the light of a full moon on
the night after D Day. On dawn patrol the next morning another
Liberator, captained by Flying Officer Mygind
Flight Lieutenant V. C. Mygind; born Eketahuna, 3 Jul 1922; electrical engineer;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
of No. 547 Squadron,
attacked a German submarine off Brest. Other men who saw action
in the first few days were Sergeant Kemp
Warrant Officer I. T. Kemp; born Invercargill, 30 Oct 1922; hospital porter; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
of No. 206 Squadron,
Warrant Officer Osborne
Warrant Officer D. Osborne; born Cleethorpes, England, 15 Jun 1920; newspaper
compositor; joined RNZAFJun 1941.
of No. 58 Halifax Squadron, and Flight
Sergeant Raynel
Warrant Officer R. S. G. Raynel; born Matamata, 15 Aug 1920; butcher; joined RNZAFDec 1941; killed on air operations, 27 Apr 1945.
of No. 228 Sunderland Squadron.
Coastal Command's initial counter-attack proved remarkably
effective. Within four days no fewer than twenty-three U-boats were
sighted and attacked, six of them being sunk outright and others
so damaged that they were forced back to port. Subsequently, by
their constant patrols throughout the twenty-four hours, the
Liberator, Halifax, and Sunderland crews succeeded in maintaining
a wide air barrier between Cornwall and Brittany, beyond which it
proved well-nigh impossible for German submarines to pass. Yet
the Germans did not accept this defeat easily. They sent out fighter
aircraft, and the U-boats themselves fought back fiercely on the
surface with their cannon and machine guns. Among the casualties
was Flight Lieutenant Jenkison,
Flight Lieutenant J. E. Jenkison; born Motueka, 27 Dec 1918; civil servant; joined
RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 12 Jun 1944.
who was lost with his crew after
attacking an enemy submarine in the vicinity of the Channel Islands.
Warrant Officer R. F. Upton and his crew had an unenviable
experience when their Halifax was attacked by seven Ju88s to the
south of Ushant. Before the bomber could reach cloud cover, the
wireless operator was killed, the engineer severely wounded, and
the aircraft itself badly damaged.
Operations against German surface craft were conducted with
relentless efficiency by Beaufighter, Mosquito, and Wellington crews.
Such was the intensity of the watch maintained from the air that
German E-boats and minelayers seldom operated by day; at night
when they ventured out from their shelters in the Channel ports,
they were found by radar and then bombed and machine-gunned
by the light of flares. Minor naval units based south of the Dover
Straits were prevented from entering the Channel, and eventually
the last hope of supply or escape by sea was denied to the German
garrisons cut off by the advance of the Allied armies.
Wing Commander E. H. McHardy, Wing Commander G. D. Sise,
and Squadron Leader Tacon
Wing Commander E. W. Tacon, DSO, MVO, DFC and bar, AFC; RAF; born Napier,
6 Dec 1917; joined RAFMay 1939; Coastal Command, 1939–41; flying training appointments in Canada, New Zealand, and United Kingdom, 1942–44; commanded No. 236
Sqdn, 1944; p.w. 12 Sep 1944; Commander of the King's Flight, 1946–50.
were prominent in these operations.
Beaufighters led by McHardy had notable success against E-boats
in the Channel. Sise and Tacon led Mosquitos and Beaufighters
against enemy shipping in the waters between Brest and Bordeaux,
where a heavy toll was taken of minesweepers, naval auxiliaries,
and coasters. On 14 August Sise led twenty-five Mosquitos to the
well-defended Gironde estuary to attack shipping there; one minesweeper blew up, another was set on fire, and three other ships
including a destroyer were damaged. Ten days later Tacon led
Beaufighters into the harbour at Le Verdon to attack the last two
German destroyers left in the Biscay area. There was an intense
barrage but both ships were repeatedly hit and left shrouded in
smoke and flames. They sank shortly afterwards.
No. 489 New Zealand Squadron played its part in the anti-E-boat
operations, with Wing Commander J. S. Dinsdale, Squadron Leaders
D. H. Hammond and F. K. Moyniham, and Flight Lieutenant
T. H. Davidson each leading formations in patrol and attack. There
were also several operations against enemy ships along the Dutch
coast. On 15 June, when eleven Beaufighters from the squadron
were among the force of forty aircraft which made a daylight attack
in that area, the main target was an 8000-ton merchantman and an
E-boat depot ship; they were accompanied by seventeen minesweepers and anti-aircraft escorts. In a well co-ordinated attack,
both the larger ships and one of the escorts were sunk without a
single aircraft being lost. A fortnight later, in a dusk attack on a
convoy off the Frisian Islands, crews from No. 489 Squadron
scored hits on at least two cargo ships; one was seen to blow up
and another was set on fire. Further attacks were made during the
following weeks. Indeed, the diminishing threat of German surface
craft in the Channel area enabled the Beaufighter squadrons to
return to their campaign against Dutch and Norwegian coastal
convoys much sooner than had been expected.
New Zealanders with Bomber Command flew a variety of missions
over Normandy. After the remarkable series of operations in
support of the actual landings there was a renewal of the attack
on enemy communications, and despite continual bad weather, with
much low cloud, Lancasters, Halifaxes, and Mosquitos operated
against such objectives on every one of the seven nights following
D Day. Heavy attacks fell on the rail centres at Caen, Lisieux,
St. Lo, Vire, Argentan, Chateaudun, Rennes, and Evreux. Bridges
and tunnels were also bombed.
A particularly successful raid against the Saumur tunnel on the
main railway from south-west France to Normandy was made by
thirty-one Lancasters and Mosquitos. Led by Wing Commander
G. L. Cheshire, whose No. 617 Squadron provided the major part
of the attacking force, the bombers attacked by the light of flares
in the early hours of 9 June. Most of the Lancasters were carrying
‘Tallboys’ - special five-ton bombs of terrific power – all of which
crashed down within the space of a few minutes. One scored a
direct hit on the tunnel entrance and the roof caved in. Others fell
in the deep cutting leading to the tunnel and effectively blocked
the approach with deep craters over 100 feet across. Two months
later when the Allies captured Saumur the line was still closed.
Throughout the following weeks the assault on rail and road
communications continued over a wide area, causing heavy damage
to depots and marshalling yards, blocking lines and destroying
large quantities of rolling stock. During July, when the Germans
began to move formations from both the Pas de Calais and the
Low Countries, they tried to bring these reinforcements to centres
in the Paris area for detrainment. Heavy attacks were therefore
launched against such centres as Aulnoye, Dijon, Villeneuve St.
George, Vaires, Tours, and Revigny. As a result all the through
lines running west to Paris and east to the Meuse were cut. By
the end of July, when the Allied armies broke out from their
bridgehead, Bomber Command's attacks in Normandy had achieved
their purpose and the offensive slackened. During the next month,
however, over one thousand sorties were directed against communication centres well beyond the actual battle area, against such
junctions as Dijon, Douai, Lens, Somain and Givors. Bomber
Command's final attack in the rail offensive took place on the
night of 18 August when Connantre was heavily damaged. Since
D Day the British heavy bombers had flown over eight thousand
sorties against communication targets and dropped some 29,300
tons of bombs for the loss of 186 aircraft and crews.
Such losses indicated that the German fighter force was still
capable of putting up a stiff resistance against the deeper penetrations made by the heavier bombers; indeed, after its initial setback
in Normandy, the Luftwaffe was able to function with considerable
efficiency from serviceable airfields in Belgium and Holland. To
counter this renewed activity, Bomber Command, in conjunction
with the United States 8th Air Force, launched a mass attack on
twenty airfields in these countries during daylight on 15 August.
Bomber Command, for its part, sent just over 1000 aircraft against
nine German night-fighter bases. At each target there was severe
damage to runways, buildings, and aircraft on the ground. A
fortnight later British crews made another heavy attack on six
airfields in Holland, where the remainder of the Luftwaffe's close-support units had now taken station, together with long-range
bombers, night fighters, and the aircraft used for launching flying
bombs. German air activity was noticeably less during the weeks
immediately following these heavy raids.
During the Normandy campaign both British and American
bombers were frequently called upon to intervene closely in the
land battle. Montgomery was particularly anxious to have the
support of the heavy bombers since he realised that, at a few hours'
notice, one thousand aircraft could put down a barrage which, for
the time being, was equal in weight to the shells of four thousand
guns. To bring up such a mass of artillery to the required position
in any reasonable time would have been a physical impossibility,
but the bombers could strike without giving the enemy any warning.
Air Marshal Harris at first expressed doubts about the use of his
heavy bombers in the battlefield very close to the Allied lines.
However, in the event, by extremely careful planning and the
extraordinary skill of the crews, the risk was brought down to
much less than the soldier ran in the First World War when his
own guns put down the barrage. The main safeguard was the use
of a double check: a carefully timed run by each aircraft and a
very careful assessment of the position of target indicators by a
Master Bomber.
The RAF Lancasters and Halifaxes operated mainly in support
of the British and Canadian armies and in nine major attacks
between D Day and mid-August dropped over 19,500 tons of bombs
on German strongpoints and troop concentrations. Their first
operation took place on the night of 7 June when 212 Lancasters
and Halifaxes bombed a German fuel centre in the Foret de Cerisy.
This attack was made in a response to a request from the First
United States Army, which was meeting strong opposition in the
beachhead. A week later when troop concentrations in front of
the Second British Army were bombed, there was particularly
widespread destruction at the main road junction in Aunay–sur–
Oden. On 30 June the Germans were preparing to counter-attack
at Villers Bocage when 266 aircraft arrived overhead and completely
blocked all roads with craters and rubble. The enemy attack did
not take place.
At the beginning of July the British armies were still held up
in front of Caen and Montgomery asked for RAF heavy bombers
to break the deadlock. Accordingly, at dusk on 7 July some 470
Lancasters and Halifaxes, each carrying five tons of bombs, saturated
an area of two and a half square miles on the northern outskirts
of Caen where there were strong German defensive positions.
Unfortunately, owing to approaching storms, the bombing had to
take place six hours before the ground assault began. Nevertheless,
the results were quite dramatic; the German defence crumpled and
within twenty-four hours British and Canadian troops had captured
the whole of Caen north and west of the River Orne. Montgomery
has written of ‘the tremendous effect’ on the enemy of ‘this
remarkably accurate operation’:
Normandy to the Baltic, p.74.
‘… some German defenders,’ he
says, ‘were found still stunned many hours after the attack had been
carried out. The troops in the defences north of the town were cut
off and received no food, petrol or ammunition as a result, while one
regiment … was wiped out.’ Montgomery also adds that ‘the capture
of Caen greatly simplified our problems on the eastern flank’ and
‘the Bomber Command attack played a vital part in the success of
the operation.’ The air bombardment did, however, have one
unfortunate result. As the British tanks moved forward they found
their advance was often hindered by bomb craters and by
obstructions, such as fallen masonry and debris. Consequently, in
subsequent operations of this nature it was decided to reserve heavy
bombs for specific centres of enemy resistance and to employ small
bombs in the path of the advance.
Five more attacks were made by Bomber Command during the
next few weeks to help break down the ‘strong ring fence’ that
Rommel had erected round the eastern flank of the Normandy
bridgehead. On the morning of 18 July over one thousand Lancasters
and Halifaxes flew across the Channel to support a major thrust
southwards by the British and Canadian armies, and for three hours
the ground between Caen and Troarn shuddered under the heaviest
and most concentrated air attack so far attempted in France. ‘After
the bombing,’ says one military observer, ‘the 29th Armoured
Brigade, advancing in column of regiments on a front of a thousand
yards, drove untroubled to the second railway …. In the villages
on either side the dazed defenders were still in their shelters when
they found themselves attacked by infantry who were clearing the
flanks.’ Unfortunately, however, after the troops had advanced some
two to three miles beyond Caen they met heavy opposition. Then
came heavy rain, and the battlefield, which had previously been
inches deep in dust, was turned into a sea of mud. Further advance
ceased.
On 30 July, when the British Army renewed its push southwards,
Bomber Command again led the way with an attack by nearly seven
hundred aircraft. In defiance of low and threatening clouds crews
hit their targets ‘with remarkable accuracy’ and the ground assault
made substantial progress. A week later 1018 Lancasters and
Halifaxes prepared the way for the final breakout by the First
Canadian Army. The air bombardment took place an hour before
midnight – a daring innovation only made possible by the navigational skill of the aircrews and the efficient marking technique which
had now been developed.
Bomber Command's last two close-support operations of this
period came in mid-August as the British and Canadian armies
fought their way southwards to close the upper jaws of the Falaise
trap. On the night of 12 August 138 heavy bombers attacked road
junctions ahead of the advancing columns, and in the early afternoon of 14 August some six hundred aircraft attacked enemy
concentrations and strongpoints directly ahead of the Canadians,
then striking directly towards Falaise. The town fell on 16 August.
Unfortunately, the raid on 14 August was marred by an incident involving the loss of
some eighty soldiers and a number of guns and vehicles. It appears that some of the
forward troops, on seeing the aircraft approaching with their bomb doors open, lit
yellow recognition flares and these were mistaken for yellow target indicators by certain
crews. Subsequent inquiry established that, at a conference before the attack, the Canadians
had assured Bomber Command that no pyrotechnics would be used by the ground forces
that might be confused with target indicators dropped from the air; unfortunately they
overlooked the existence of an army operational order which stated that troops being
attacked by friendly aircraft would fire yellow or orange signals. It was also discovered
that a few aircrews failed to make the carefully timed runs to their targets which they had
been ordered to do.
The overall results of Bomber Command's intervention in the
land battle were substantial. At critical stages, British and Canadian
forces were able to capture well-defended positions with few
casualties while the moral effect on the Germans was tremendous.
Officers of Rundstedt's staff have testified to the ‘terrifying immobility on the battlefield’ which was produced by what they called
our ‘carpet-bombing’. The troops could not move; the communication system broke down; artillery and anti-tank weapons were
knocked out, and tanks were immobilised in craters or beneath heaps
of earth and debris. Nor was the moral effect confined to the
Germans. Most British soldiers who fought in Normandy would
agree with Montgomery's comment that ‘it was a most inspiring
sight to see the might of Bomber Command arriving to join in the
battle.’
During the Normandy campaign Bomber Command also attacked
the Channel ports in support of the Navy. The most outstanding
operation was that against the German fleet of light naval vessels
in Le Havre and Boulogne on 14–15 June. These small but fast
ships, carrying mines and torpedoes, presented a real threat to Allied
shipping in the Channel but within twenty-four hours, at negligible
cost to Bomber Command, the Germans lost all power of seriously
disrupting the passage of convoys to Normandy. At Le Havre the
dock area was badly damaged and fifty-five vessels of various types,
including a number of naval craft, were sunk; while at Boulogne
twenty-seven vessels were sunk and others damaged. In all some
130 naval and auxiliary craft were put out of action, virtually the
whole of the enemy's light naval forces in the Channel area. At the
same time the concrete shelters used to house E-boats at Le Havre
were hit by several of the new 12,000-pound medium-capacity bombs.
At the end of August German E and R-boats were using the
Dutch port of Ijmuiden, where they had the advantage of serviceable pens. These were massively constructed and resistant to almost
anything but the heaviest bombs. However, in two small but effective
attacks several 12,000-pound penetration bombs scored direct hits,
one making a hole 15 feet across in the roof centre, the other
blowing out a large part of the back of the pen, leaving a gap
measuring 94 feet by 30 feet. In attacks on the Biscay ports at least
eight direct hits were scored on the U-boat shelters at Brest and
six at La Pallice.
Bomber Command gave further support to the Navy during these
months by continuing its minelaying campaign. During July and
August more than one thousand mines were laid from the air off
Brest, La Pallice, and in the Gironde River to disrupt U-boat operations from these bases. Intensified minelaying was also carried out
in the Kattegat and off the south coast of Norway to hamper
German troop movements to and from Norway. Towards the end
of the summer, operations were extended to the eastern Baltic where
canal approaches to the ports of Swinemunde and Konigsberg were
mined; altogether more than five hundred mines were dropped in
the Baltic area during August and September 1944. The effectiveness
of the minelaying in the Baltic is indicated in the reports sent to the
German Admiralty. At the end of September one senior officer
wrote despairingly: ‘Without training in the Baltic and safe escort
through coastal waters, there can be no U-boat war. Without seaborne supplies it is impossible to hold Norway …. but we no
longer command the sea routes within our own sphere of influence
as shown by the day and week long blocking of the Baltic
approaches.’
Crews from No. 75 New Zealand Squadron, under the leadership of Wing Commander Leslie, flew in all these various missions
and their experiences may be regarded as typical of most of the
bomber squadrons with which New Zealanders were flying at this
time. The first week of the invasion was a period of intensive activity
with the Lancasters operating over Normandy on six successive
nights. On D Day itself, following a maximum effort against coastal
batteries, twenty-four Lancasters gave support to British troops in
their beachheads by bombing the road centre at Lisieux, through
which German tanks and infantry were moving forward to the
attack. Other targets for the New Zealanders in the early stages
of the assault were the rail centres of Massy Palaisseau, Fougeres,
Dreux, and Nantes. Two aircraft were lost with their crews in the
attack on Dreux and after several other raids machines returned
badly damaged by flak. One crew had a particularly eventful sortie
to Nantes. Over the target an anti-aircraft shell exploded in the
cockpit, severely wounding the captain and the flight engineer. As
the Lancaster began to go down the controls were seized by the
bomb aimer, Warrant Officer Hurse
Pilot Officer A. W. Hurse; born Carisbrook, Australia, 19 Jan 1920; joined RAAF
Jan 1942.
of Carisbrook, Australia, whose
only experience as a pilot was a little dual instruction on Stirlings.
Aided by the navigator, Flying Officer Zillwood,
Flight Lieutenant A. H. R. Zillwood, DFC; born Carterton, 7 Feb 1920; telegraph cadet;
joined RAFOct 1941; transferred RNZAFOct 1943.
he managed to
fly the bomber 400 miles back to England where, says the squadron
record, he ‘rounded off his exploit with a perfect landing.’
During the following weeks No. 75 Squadron attacked a wide
variety of targets in France, including rail centres, supply dumps,
and oil storage depots. Most crews completed their missions without
incident but on the night of 15 June, when twenty-three squadron
aircraft bombed the marshalling yards at Valenciennes, enemy
fighters were unusually active. Several combats were reported, one
Lancaster was shot down, and a second machine crash-landed at
Manston. The New Zealanders also took part in the notable raid
against the port area of Le Havre in mid-June and in the attack
against Villers Bocage at the end of the month – Bomber Command's
first daylight operation over Normandy in support of the British
Army. It was while flying back from Villers Bocage that Squadron
Leader Williamson
Squadron Leader N. A. Williamson, DFC; born Gisborne, 24 Oct 1918; civil servant;
joined RNZAFSep 1940.
brought his Lancaster down on one of the new
landing strips in the beach-head in order to seek medical aid for
his flight engineer, who had been wounded by flak. This was the
first time a British heavy bomber landed in Normandy after the
invasion began.
In July and August a large part of the squadron's effort was
directed against flying-bomb launching sites in northern France and
there were also several raids on targets in Germany. Nevertheless,
the New Zealanders continued to operate frequently in support of
the armies in France, attacking German supply depots and communications as well as troop concentrations and strongpoints on the
battlefield. During the first week of July the important rail centre
of Vaires was bombed twice and there were further raids on the
marshalling yards at Lens and Chalons-sur-Marne. On the 18th the
squadron flew its first mission in direct support of Allied troops.
That day twenty-eight crews took part in the big RAF dawn attack
on the village of Cagny, to the east of Caen, where there were large
concentrations of German troops and armour. ‘Fairly heavy anti-aircraft fire did not prevent an accurate attack,’ says the squadron
record, ‘and fortunately only one aircraft suffered damage.’ This
was captained by Flight Sergeant Moriarty,
Flying Officer D. J. Moriarty, CGM; born Wanganui, 13 Aug 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
who displayed particular
fortitude after an anti-aircraft shell had burst inside his machine.
Flying splinters struck him on the head, causing serious injury to
his left eye. Although he was suffering intense pain, Moriarty
insisted on flying his machine back across the Channel to England
where he carried out ‘a masterly landing.’
A fortnight later, on 30 July, seventeen crews made a daylight
attack on German troops and armour at Amaye-sur-Seulles. ‘All
attacked at low level,’ says the record. ‘The bombing was well
concentrated and ably controlled with a gradual advance southwards
as ordered. It was a good prang.’ Similar operations were flown
during the first half of August, and in one period of six days the
New Zealand Squadron flew 110 sorties over Normandy – this at
a time when the weather was anything but favourable for intensive
flying. Squadron aircraft also bombed a German supply centre near
Paris, petrol dumps at Lucheux, and oil storage depots at Bordeaux.
No. 75's last close-support operation in Normandy was flown on 14
August when twenty-two Lancasters bombed enemy concentrations
at Hamel in the path of the British and Canadian armies advancing
towards Falaise. Altogether in the course of the Normandy campaign
the New Zealand Squadron had flown 916 sorties and dropped
3520 tons of bombs for the loss of nineteen Lancasters with their
crews.
There were few survivors from the missing aircraft, but one young
navigator, Flying Officer Wilkinson,
Flight Lieutenant J. S. Wilkinson; born Wellington, 27 Jun 1923; bank clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1942.
had a series of adventures
which must be related. After bailing out from his burning bomber
well behind the enemy lines, he went into hiding for the best part
of a day in order to avoid the search parties that combed the
vicinity of the crash. Then, estimating his position from his own
navigation in flight, he began to move westwards, walking across
country by night and sleeping in the hedgerows by day. Even so, it
was anything but easy going for the Germans seemed to be every-
where. Near St. Aubin he almost walked into a stationary truck
full of soldiers and shortly afterwards he was forced to go to
ground in a drainpipe. On another occasion he found himself in a
German camp and had to worm his way out on his stomach. Eventually gun flashes indicated the direction of the front line, but the way
was barred by a river and sentries patrolled the bridges. Undaunted,
Wilkinson swam across, picked his way through the swamps on
the other side, and at last reached the shelter of some woods. This
was on the sixth night and he was soaked through, cold and very
hungry. As he moved on he nearly stumbled on some Germans
lying in a forward observation post. ‘Fortunately,’ he said after-
wards, ‘one of them coughed when I was only a few yards away.
But I heard a rifle bolt being pushed home so hit the earth quickly
and then crawled slowly away, making for the far side of the field.
Later, feeling badly in need of a drink, I crept into a bomb crater
to find some water. On lifting my head I found two rifles pointing
at me. I put up my hands and crawled out. To my great relief the
men behind the rifles were members of the Durham Light Infantry.’
* * * * *
Throughout the campaign in Normandy the dominant influence
of air power had been plainly manifest. Allied supremacy in the air
was undoubtedly the most important single factor contributing to
the success of the initial assault, for its influence penetrated to
almost every aspect of plans and operations on both sides. It had
played the decisive part in winning the Battle of the Atlantic, the
essential prelude to the concentration for overlord; it had protected
the invasion base from interference by the enemy's bombers and
V-weapons and had prevented him from discovering through reconnaissance the state of Allied preparations or the start of the cross-Channel movement. Through air power the Allies had been able not
only to surprise the enemy but also to mislead him. The deception
plan could never have been carried through without the technique of
radio and radar counter measures developed by Bomber Command,
and the application of that technique succeeded only because of the
superb skill of the RAF crews trained in battle over Germany.
Strategic bombing had, moreover, prevented the completion of the
Atlantic Wall defences. Had the Germans been able to carry out the
improvements they planned, these defences would have been as
formidable in Normandy as they were in the Pas de Calais.
In its last situation report before D Day, Rommel's headquarters stated that the planned
defences of the Fifteenth Army sector were 68 per cent completed but that in the area of
the Seventh Army only 18 per cent had been finished.
How-
ever, since 1943Hitler had been forced to divert labour and materials
to the repair of factories and communications in Germany, V-weapon
sites and railways in France, and U-boat bases in Norway and the
Bay of Biscay. Even after Rommel had brought fresh vigour and
vision to the fortification of the Channel coast, his plans were only
partly fulfilled because the destruction of French railways hindered
the transport of supplies, and the bombing attacks on Germany led
to the retention within the Reich of the anti-aircraft guns and equipment which could have made the Allied landings too costly to contemplate.
Once the land fighting began the British and American squadrons
had quickly established command of the air over the battlefield,
and by their further attacks on communications they drastically
reduced the enemy's capacity to remove troops and supplies so that,
in spite of his natural advantages, he lost the critical battle of the
build-up and all his counter-attacks were frustrated. Intervening
directly in the ground fighting, both fighters and bombers had paved
the way for and supported the advance of the armies at each stage
of the campaign. Perhaps the most striking illustration of the
effectiveness of air power during these months was that, while the
Germans were forced off the roads and railways and driven to
extreme efforts at camouflaging their movements, the Allied convoys
could move in closely packed columns whose spacing seemed to be
determined only by the amount of dust kicked up ahead. They
needed no ‘broomstick commandos’ of the kind employed by the
Germans to wipe out the tracks made on roads when their vehicles
sought daytime safety under such cover as they might find or
improvise.
In considering these achievements of the Allied air forces in
Normandy, it is well to remember that in the last resort they resulted
from the efforts of thousands of individual men, British and
American alike, each faithfully carrying out his particular duty in
the air or on the ground. From the air commanders who planned
and controlled operations and the aircrews who flew the actual
missions down to those who served in more humble but very
necessary roles – the mechanic at the dispersal point, the wireless
operator at his post – all had played their part. The cost of success
had not been light. From April to September 1944 Royal Air Force
Bomber Command alone lost 11,580 men, most of them in operations connected with the invasion. The total casualties suffered by
the Allied air forces in Western Europe during the same period
were 33,540 killed, missing, or prisoner of war, and 4650 wounded.
CHAPTER 11
Flying Bombs and Rockets
With the eclipse of the Luftwaffe and the failure of the
U-boats to upset Allied invasion plans, the Germans had set
high hopes on what they called their new Vergeltungswaffen or
reprisal weapons. As early as June 1943, Hitler had told his
assembled military leaders that it was only necessary for Germany
to hold out; a new and decisive attack was in preparation that
would reduce London to rubble and force Britain to capitulate. One
of the weapons he proposed to use was the flying bomb, or ‘V-1’, a
small pilotless aircraft driven by a simple form of jet engine and
carrying well over half a ton of explosive that detonated upon impact
with terrific blast effect. Another was the V-2 rocket which, carrying
approximately the same weight of explosive, could be shot high
into the air to fall at supersonic speed and with great penetrative
power.
Plans for the intensive development of these projectiles had been
put forward during 1942, but Hitler had been sceptical of their
value until, towards the end of that year, the first flying bomb was
successfully launched from the experimental station at Peenemunde
on the Baltic coast. Six months later, after further trials with both
the V-1 and V-2, Hitler ordered production to be speeded up and
a provisional date for opening the offensive was fixed at mid-December 1943. The construction of launching sites in France was
begun in August by 40,000 conscript workers and it was expected
to have ninety-six sites ready by the target date. But the Germans
appear to have been unaware of the extent to which their intentions
were known and they reckoned without the intervention of the
Allied air forces.
By April 1943 British agents, with the help of the Polish under-
ground, had learned enough to give a general warning that something unusual was afoot. The following month an RAF reconnaissance plane brought back photographs of Peenemunde which, skilfully interpreted, revealed that the Germans were experimenting
with pilotless aircraft. Further evidence continued to reach London,
and then early in November came the discovery of the launching
sites in France. Some sceptics thought that the preparations were a
gigantic hoax designed to draw Allied bombers away from their
targets in Germany, but the counsel of those who took the menace
seriously prevailed; in August a heavy RAF raid was made on
Peenemunde, and early in December a prolonged bombing campaign
was commenced against the launching sites in northern France. This
onslaught from the air completely upset German plans. Development
of the V-2 was delayed by some two months and almost all the V-1
launching areas were destroyed. The Germans then set about constructing new sites in the hope that they would still be able to
launch simultaneous flying-bomb and rocket attacks before the Allies
landed in Europe. But they were frustrated by the continuing air
attack. When the invasion took place German preparations for using
their V-weapons were still incomplete.
The long-delayed attack finally began on 13 June 1944, seven
days after the Allied landings in Normandy. Shortly before dawn
that day the first flying bomb left the steel rails of its launching
ramp, hidden near a farmhouse in the Pas de Calais, to begin its
noisy and fiery journey to England. Members of the Royal Observer
Corps, noting the unusual sound of its flight and the glow at its
rear, reported it crossing the Kent coast. A few minutes later it
crashed and exploded at Swanscombe, a small town near Gravesend.
Ten more bombs were launched during the next hour, but only four
of them crossed the English coast and only one reached London,
where it killed six people and demolished a railway bridge in the
East End. The three bombs which fell outside London caused no
casualties. Fire from German batteries on the French coast created
a diversion but the Luftwaffe's efforts to add confusion to the initial
attack failed miserably; only one Me410 was reported over London
and it was shot down. Thereupon there was a lull of three days
before the next flying bombs arrived.
This feeble beginning was far from what Hitler had intended
when, impatient for counter-action to the Allied invasion, he
ordered the bombardment to start on this date. His instructions were
that a salvo of sixty-four missiles was to be fired before midnight
and so timed that they would all explode in London at the same
moment. An hour later a second salvo was to follow and thereafter
harassing fire was to be maintained until dawn. These orders, how-
ever, ignored the practical difficulties caused by the Allied air
attacks. The modified launching sites constructed to replace the
bombed ‘ski’ sites had not been completed nor had stocks of bombs
been accumulated nearby for fear of discovery and attack from the
air. Much of the equipment required to get the sites ready for action
was kept some distance away, while stocks of flying bombs were
scattered in dumps throughout northern France, Belgium, and
Germany. Between these supply centres and the launching sites,
Allied bombing had thrown the railways into almost complete
confusion. Indeed, so formidable were the difficulties encountered
by the LuftwaffeFlak Regiment 155W, the formation responsible
for firing arrangements, that when zero hour came only seven sites
had been ready to fire. As a result of their false start the Germans
lost the advantage of heavy surprise attack, and during the three
days' respite the British defences were alerted for what was to
follow.
The firing was renewed at midnight on 15 June, by which time
the Germans had managed to complete preparations for a much
heavier scale of attack. Within the next twenty-four hours they
succeeded in launching over two hundred flying bombs, of which
seventy-three fell in Greater London and about the same number
in the surrounding countryside, some of them in places as far apart
as Sussex and Suffolk. Now the assault began in earnest, and for
the next eighty-two days there were but few brief intervals when the
distinctive menacing buzz of the flying bomb was not heard over
some part of south-east England. A peak was reached on 2 August
when some 210 bombs crossed the coast, of which more than half
found their mark in London. Even so, this was considerably fewer
than the Germans had planned. Not only did their equipment prove
unreliable, but launching operations were seriously embarrassed by
Allied bombing of supply depots and communications as well as of
the actual sites; moreover, much of the sting was soon taken out
of the attack by the British fighter and gun defences. Towards the
end of August the northward advance of the British and Canadian
armies forced the enemy to abandon one launching site after another,
and the last V-1 to be fired from northern France fell in Hertfordshire during the afternoon of 1 September. Four days later there was
a despairing postscript when specially equipped Heinkel 111
bombers, whose airborne launchings had made a small contribution
to the offensive since the early part of July, fired at least nine
missiles before they evacuated their bases. Not one exploded in
London.
The capture of the launching areas in the Pas de Calais did not,
however, completely end the flying-bomb menace. During the next
seven months the Germans succeeded in maintaining a small and
intermittent scale of attack with missiles launched from aircraft
over the North Sea and from ramps in Holland. It was not until
the morning of 29 March 1945 that the last flying bomb to elude
the British defences exploded at Datchworth, a small village in
Kent, some 25 miles from the centre of London. By that time the
Germans had launched over 8000 bombs against England, but of
these barely half had crossed the English coast and only one quarter
had reached Greater London. The British defences brought down
no fewer than 3957, more than half the total number reported,
1878 being credited to anti-aircraft batteries, 1847 to fighter aircraft,
and 232 to the balloon barrage.
The German development of their V-2 rocket had lagged behind
that of the flying bomb, and before firing of this second reprisal
weapon could be started the Allied armies had overrun the intended
launching areas in France and Belgium. However, the enemy
continued his preparations in Holland and it was from a site near
the Hague that the first rocket was launched against England on the
evening of 8 September 1944. It fell in Chiswick, a western suburb
of London, where it killed three people and seriously injured another
ten; almost simultaneously a second V-2 fell near Epping, fortunately
without casualties. Missiles continued to arrive intermittently during
the next ten days at the rate of rather more than two a day; then
suddenly there came a lull of a week. Montgomery's armies had
begun their thrust towards Arnhem, and with this threat of further
Allied advance into Holland the German rocket batteries had been
ordered eastward. However, with the repulse of the attack on
Arnhem the batteries returned to the Hague area and renewed the
assault which, with London as the main target, was to continue
with only brief respites for the next six months.
British counter measures, which included the bombing of suspected
launching areas, communications, and supply depots, were developed
to mitigate the intensity of the attack but they met with only partial
success. In the first half of January 1945 an average of eight rockets
a day fell on England and in mid-February it rose to ten. Fortunately,
however, the accuracy of the V-2 was poor, less than half the 1300
rockets aimed at London finding their mark; some fell back near
the firing point soon after they had been launched while others
dropped short into the North Sea or came down in the countryside
surrounding the capital. The weight of the attack on London was
also reduced by the fact that from October 1944 the Germans fired
many of their missiles against targets on the Continent, in particular
against the supply port of Antwerp, where they caused considerable
damage and heavy casualties. The Germans were finally compelled
to abandon the attack with rockets towards the end of March 1945,
by which time the Allied armies had crossed the Rhine and were
advancing across Holland into Germany.
For the people of London, who had already withstood heavy air
attack and for almost five years had accepted irksome restrictions
and worked long hours with little respite, the nine months of the
German V-weapon assault were a severe ordeal. Indeed, many found
this attack by airborne robots quite uncanny and more difficult to
bear than the orthodox bombing. The flying bombs in particular
produced considerable nervous strain and for a time there was some
absenteeism in industry and a fall in production. However,
Londoners soon grew accustomed to seeing the ‘doodle-bugs’ or
‘buzz-bombs’, as they called them, over their city and many became
adept at assessing the danger as a bomb approached; people would
wait for the ominous cut of the engine or the dip of the nose
which signalled the descent before diving for cover; if the bomb
passed by, it was ignored. Only occasionally were they kept guessing
by wayward missiles which made a sudden unexpected turn or else
began a wide circle before making the plunge earthwards.
The rockets proved less terrifying than the flying bombs, probably
because they approached unseen and unheard; there was no period
of suspense since the first indication that a rocket had arrived was
a loud explosion, closely followed by the rumble of its supersonic
flight through the atmosphere. By that time people knew they were
safe – at least until the next one. The scale of the V-2 attacks and
the resulting casualties and damage were also not so heavy as with
the flying bomb. Yet there were some tragic incidents reminiscent
of the worst days of the early air raids. On 25 November 1944 a
rocket fell on a crowded Woolworth store in Deptford and 160
people were killed and 108 seriously injured. At Smithfield Market,
in the centre of London, 110 people lost their lives and 123 were
severely hurt on 8 March 1945. Nineteen days later a tenement building at Stepney was hit and 131 men, women, and children were
killed.
Altogether 8938 people lost their lives and a further 25,000 were
seriously injured as a result of the German V-weapon attacks – the
large majority of them Londoners. There was also widespread
destruction of property – most of it in the capital – including over
200,000 houses destroyed or seriously damaged. Such loss and
devastation was grievous indeed, yet it was only a fraction of what
might have resulted had the Germans been left to perfect their
weapons without interruption and had they not been prevented
from using them earlier and on the scale originally planned.
When Hitler ordered the offensive to begin in mid-June, he had
expected the effect to be dramatic. Indeed, both he and his military
advisers thought that, in their anxiety to relieve London, the Allies
might be tempted into precipitate action regarding the expected
second landing in the Pas de Calais and that this would end in
disaster. But German hopes were doomed to disappointment. The
flying bombs did not induce a second landing. Nor did they have
any noticeable effect on the progress of the campaign in Normandy.
As early as 18 June the British Prime Minister assured General
Eisenhower that there was to be no alteration in agreed strategy and
that London would endure the assault. In his Crusade in Europe
Eisenhower writes: ‘We in the field wanted to capture the areas
from which these weapons were fired against southern England.
However, it must be said to the credit of the British leaders that
never once did one of them urge me to vary any detail of my
planned operations merely for the purpose of eliminating this
scourge.’
The advent of the German V-weapons did, however, have a disturbing effect on Allied air operations. With the invasion less than
two weeks old, there was a considerable diversion of air power to
counter the flying bomb. Many fighter squadrons, including most
of the newest and fastest machines, had to be retained in England
and employed on interception patrols, while both the British and
American heavy bomber forces were used in an attempt to counter
the threat at its source. Such measures absorbed a very large effort
which might otherwise have been used for additional close support
of the armies and the bombing of Germany. Yet, compared with
the optimistic statements of the Germans and the vast resources
poured into developing their V-weapons, this was a comparatively
small return; according to Speer the whole productive effort and
the huge quantities of fuel consumed during the ten months of the
assault would have been better used in putting several thousand
fighters into the air.
* * * * *
The part played by the fighter pilots and bomber crews during the
actual V-weapon attacks must now be told.
By May 1944 most of the original ‘ski’ sites had been destroyed
and it seemed that the danger of any large-scale assault had been
averted; moreover, demands for additional air power to prepare for
the Normandy invasion were becoming more insistent as D Day
approached. Although one of the new ‘modified’ launching sites
had been identified as early as 27 April and over sixty reported by
the beginning of June, in the preoccupation with Overlord the
imminent threat represented by these structures was underestimated.
Attacks on V-weapons targets came to a virtual standstill towards
the end of May and for over a fortnight the Germans were able
to continue their preparations almost unhindered by direct attack.
However, the arrival of the first flying bombs in mid-June brought
prompt counter-action. Both British and American heavy bombers
were turned upon the new launching sites and supply depots, and
elaborate defence arrangements involving both fighters and anti-aircraft guns were put into operation over southern England.
The main defence plan had been prepared at RAF Fighter Headquarters by Air Marshal Roderic Hill
Air Chief Marshal Sir Roderic M. Hill, KCB, MC, AFC and bar, Legion of Merit (US),
Order of White Lion (Czech), Order of Leopold with Palm and Croix de Guerre
(Bel.); RAF (retd); born Hampstead, London, 1 Mar 1894; joined RFC 1916; permanent
commission RAF1919; DTD, Air Ministry and MAP, 1938–40; DG of R and D, MAP,
1940–41; Controller of Technical Services, British Air Commission, Washington, 1941–42; Commandant RAF Staff College, 1942–43; AOC No. 12 Fighter Group, 1943;
AOC-in-C, ADGB, 1943–44; AOC-in-C Fighter Command, 1944–45; Air Member for
Training, Air Ministry, 1945–46; Air Member Technical Services, 1947–48.
in collaboration with General
Sir Frederick Pile of Anti-Aircraft Command; it provided for
defence in depth with a front line of fighter aircraft patrolling the
Channel and the South Coast, a second line of anti-aircraft guns
sited on the North Downs, and a third line of balloons around
London itself. At first eleven RAF squadrons flew ‘anti-diver’ patrols,
Tempest, Spitfire, and Typhoon fighters operating by day and
Mosquitos at night. But it soon became necessary to bring in
reinforcements, including a wing of Mustang fighters from Second
Tactical Air Force, and soon an average of fifteen day and nine
night-fighter squadrons were engaged on interception patrols. A
similar strengthening of the gun defences also took place and by
the middle of August no fewer than 800 heavy and 1100 light guns
of the Royal Artillery were in action, together with 700 rocket
barrels and some 600 light guns manned by the RAF Regiment and
the Royal Armoured Corps.
The fighter squadrons had a difficult task. Even though coastal
radar stations were used to detect the approach of flying bombs,
pilots on patrol over the Channel had only a few minutes in which
to intercept a bomb before it crossed the coast. From there to the
gun belt was only a matter of 30 miles, and although pilots were
helped by controllers at radar stations and observer posts and by
marker shells and signal rockets, they had barely five minutes'
flying time from the coast in which to attack their fleeting targets. If
in actual pursuit of a bomb, the fighters were allowed to fly on
over the gun belt and the gunners had to withhold their fire; this
gave pilots just another minute before coming up against the
London balloon barrage. Swiftness in pursuit was therefore essential,
and to give additional speed aircraft were stripped of armour and
all possible external fittings while engines were modified to take
special high-octane fuel and to accept a higher boost than usual;
even the paint was removed and outer surfaces polished. These
changes increased the speed of some single-engined fighters by as
much as thirty miles an hour, yet the margin was still slight. Indeed,
the speed of the flying bomb – some 350 miles an hour – was such
that only the fastest fighters, the Tempests, Spitfire XIVs, and later
the Mustang IIIs, could operate with consistent success.
There was considerable danger in attacking the V-1 even though
it could not shoot back. Its explosion could be lethal in the air
within 200 yards and in the early weeks several pilots were killed
and aircraft badly damaged by bursting bombs. Diving on to the
bomb to attain extra speed brought the danger of entering the
lethal distance while shooting; turbulence of the hot gases from the
jet engine also upset the aim of a fighter attacking from the rear.
The best form of attack had to be discovered by trial and error
and eventually most pilots found that, if possible, it was best to
allow the bomb to overtake them and then fire deflection shots as
it passed. Occasionally, unorthodox methods were used with success.
Pilots would fly alongside a bomb and then tip it over with the
wing of their machine – the wings did not actually touch since the
air passing over the wing surface of the fighter was sufficient to
unbalance the robot, which then overturned and went into a dive.
During the first month of the attack fighter aircraft operated with
notable success, shooting down 924 bombs – almost three times as
many as were destroyed by the anti-aircraft guns and balloons
combined. Unfortunately, however, by mid-July the daily average
of bombs reaching London was still almost forty a day. Moreover,
competition and uncertainty of operational priority in dull weather
had created friction between fighter pilots and anti-aircraft gunners.
Pilots blamed the gunners for firing on them and the gunners blamed
the pilots for flying into their area. Some hard things were said by
each about the other. Therefore, on 13 July, in the hope of achieving
better results and closer co-ordination, Air Marshal Hill gave orders
moving all guns to the coast and creating two distinct areas for
fighters, one over the sea in front of the gun belt and the other
inland behind it. This division of their patrol area made the task of
the fighter squadrons more difficult but the new system quickly
justified itself. During the second week after the redeployment a
record number of bombs was destroyed and the following week the
guns exceeded the fighter score for the first time. Moreover, gun
batteries and airfields were now more or less in the same areas and,
with personal contact between airmen and gunners, harmonious
co-operation was soon restored. ‘The mists of suspicion whose
gathering had troubled me so much were dispersed almost over-
night,’ Hill writes. ‘Flying towards the South Coast I could see
over Romney Marsh a wall of black smoke marking the position of
the “Diver” barrage. From time to time a fresh salvo would be
added to repair the slow erosion of the wind. On the far side of
the barrage fighters were shooting down flying bombs into the
Channel; on the nearer side more fighters waited on its fringe to
pounce on the occasional bomb that got so far. The whole was as
fine a spectacle of co-operation as any commander could wish to see.’
By mid-August the whole organisation was operating with a
relentless efficiency which guaranteed the destruction of from one-half to three-quarters of all the bombs that approached Britain
whatever the weather. By the end of the month only an occasional
bomb was getting through, and in one period of twenty-four hours
only four out of ninety-seven bombs reported by the defence actually
reached London. Thus, early in September, when the capture of the
launching areas ended the main attack, the British defences had
attained a very large measure of ascendancy over this novel and
ingenious weapon. Fighter pilots had now destroyed a total of 1771
bombs; the gunners, achieving notable success in the second phase,
had raised their score to 1460, and the balloons had brought down
232.
New Zealand pilots flying Spitfires, Mosquitos, Mustangs,
Tempests, and Typhoons played a prominent part in the fighter
patrols. No. 486 New Zealand Tempest Squadron was in action
from the outset. After flying sweeps and convoy patrols over the
Channel during the early days of the invasion, its pilots found
themselves switched overnight to the defence of London. By 4
September they had flown 2443 sorties and destroyed 223 flying
bombs, a record excelled by only one other squadron.
No. 3 Tempest Squadron, which destroyed 258 flying bombs.
Altogether
New Zealand pilots destroyed nearly three hundred V-1s, and eight
of them – all but one from No. 486 Squadron – were among the
thirty-four British pilots credited with the destruction of ten or
more bombs.
No. 486 Squadron was one of three squadrons forming No. 150
Wing, at this time the only formation in the RAF equipped with
the new and fast Tempest fighter. With its formidable Napier sabre
engine of twenty-four cylinders, the Hawker Tempest was not only
the most modern fighter of the RAF but of all the Allied air forces.
Sidney Camm, chief designer at Hawkers – he had designed the
famous Hurricane before the war – had taken his latest creation,
the Typhoon, which was an assault plane, massive, thick-winged,
capable of carrying a good load, and after six months' work had
transformed it into the Tempest. The fuselage was slightly longer,
enabling it to carry extra petrol, and the undercarriage lengthened
to allow the use of an enormous four-bladed propeller nearly
twelve feet in diameter. To improve downward visibility the cockpit had been moved farther aft and reduced in size to the strict
minimum until it was only a transparent plastic blister on a perfect
streamlined fuselage. The tail fin had been enlarged to ensure
perfect stability at very high speeds and flaps had been fitted along
practically the whole of the trailing edge of the wings to give
maximum safety in landing. Indeed, everything possible had been
done to give the Tempest a high performance at medium and low
altitudes. Special auxiliary tanks were designed to fit under the
wings and quite extraordinary attention was paid to the riveting,
the joints and the surface polish. The result was a superb combat
machine.
The New Zealand Tempests began intensive flying on the morning
of 16 June patrolling the Kent coast from their base at Newchurch,
near Romney; this was a new landing ground with a steel mesh
runway and the squadron lived under canvas. On patrol pilots
quickly adapted themselves to their new and novel task. The first
day two flying bombs were brought down, two days later the score
had reached fifteen, and by the end of a fortnight the total destroyed
was over ninety.
Remarkable patrols were flown during these early weeks by Flight
Lieutenant Tanner
Flight Lieutenant E. W. Tanner; born Tauranga, 20 Sep 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
and Warrant Officer Hooper.
Flying Officer G. J. Hooper, DFC; born 1 Feb 1920; fireman; joined RNZAFJun 1941;
p.w. 2 Feb 1945.
On the evening
of 30 June Tanner was patrolling off Rye when he sighted a bomb
flying at the unusual height of 5000 feet, and although it was
travelling at 390 miles an hour he intercepted and sent it down
about six miles from the coast. Five minutes later he destroyed
another bomb in the same area and then went on to attack a third,
which went down to explode on the ground near Rye. Hooper
attacked three ‘Divers’ during a midday patrol. He sighted his first
target 15 miles south of Beachy Head and pursued it towards the
coast, where he set it on fire in the air; five minutes later he shared
in the destruction of another bomb which exploded in mid-air, and
then shortly afterwards sent a third down into the sea off Beachy
Head.
Throughout the long summer days of July and August patrols
were constant, but chance and the weather played a part in the rate
of scoring. On some days the squadron's score mounted rapidly,
but on others it advanced but slowly in tantalising ones or twos or
else showed no increase at all. On 4 July pilots achieved a record
of thirteen flying bombs destroyed in just over twelve hours, but
from the morning of the 9th to the afternoon of the 12th no fewer
than 78 sorties were flown without result. Both the luck and skill
of individual pilots also varied. Nevertheless, they continued to
maintain close guard over their allotted area and were quick to
seize every opportunity for interception. One pilot, airborne to test
his machine, overheard a report that a bomb was approaching his
airfield. He took up the chase and ‘had a crack at it.’ Somewhat to
his surprise the bomb turned slowly over in flight and flew along
upside down for some distance before diving sharply to explode in
a field.
No. 486 Squadron's top-scoring pilots were Warrant Officer
Eagleson,
Flying Officer O. D. Eagleson, DFC; born Auckland, 19 Dec 1922; apprentice; joined
RNZAFMar 1942.
with twenty-one flying bombs destroyed, Flying Officer
Cammock,
Flying Officer R. J. Cammock, DFC; born Christchurch, 4 Jul 1923; clerk; joined
RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations, 6 Oct 1944.
with twenty and one shared, Flight Lieutenant McCaw,
Flight Lieutenant J. H. McCaw, DFC; born Oamaru, 31 Dec 1919; student; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
nineteen and one shared, and Flight Lieutenant Cullen,
Squadron Leader J. R. Cullen, DFC and bar; born Waihi, 1 May 1919; farmer; joined
RNZAFNov 1941; commanded No. 183 Sqdn, 1945.
who brought
down sixteen. These men displayed outstanding skill both as pilots
and marksmen, sending many of their targets down into the sea
before they reached the coast and others into the open countryside
nearby.
Eagleson opened his score by destroying three bombs on 18 June –
a very active day during which pilots flew fifty-six patrols between
dawn and dusk and shot down eleven V-1s. On a subsequent morning
patrol he destroyed two within twenty minutes; on another occasion
he saw a damaged V-1 gliding directly towards a small village north
of Eastbourne and, swooping down, exploded it in mid-air before
it could do any harm. Cammock had a similar experience early in
July. He saw a bomb already damaged by another aircraft going
down into the town of Hastings and, diving after it, he succeeded
in exploding the missile just before it made the final plunge earth-
wards. A few weeks later Cammock destroyed four bombs within
thirty-six hours, two of them inside five minutes of an evening
patrol.
McCaw was the first squadron pilot to destroy four bombs during
a single patrol. This happened one evening early in July while he
was flying one of the last sorties near Biggin Hill; when he landed
it was almost midnight and the last of the summer twilight had
faded from the sky. By the end of August Flight Lieutenant Cullen
had flown more than 200 sorties with No. 486, including ninety-three patrols against flying bombs. He had opened his score during
the evening of 18 June and a week later shot down two bombs in
one patrol; early in July he made successful interceptions on three
consecutive days.
Other pilots who had particular success were Flying Officer
Danzey,
Flying Officer R. J. Danzey, DFC; born Auckland, 11 Nov 1921; storekeeper; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
who destroyed eleven V-1s, three of them at almost point-blank range, Flight Lieutenant Sweetman,
Squadron Leader H. N. Sweetman, DFC; born Auckland, 10 Oct 1921; clerk; joined
RNZAFApr 1940; test pilot, Hawkers, 1943–44; commanded No. 3 Sqdn, 1944–45.
whose ‘bag’ was ten and
one shared, and Flying Officer Lawless,
Flight Lieutenant F. B. Lawless, DFC; born Christchurch, 26 Aug 1922; insurance
clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
who destroyed ten during
his sixty patrols. Flight Sergeant O'Connor's
Flying Officer B. J. O'Connor, DFC; born Napier, 14 Jun 1922; motor mechanic;
joined RNZAFAug 1940.
score was eight
destroyed and one shared, while Flight Lieutenant Williams,
Flight Lieutenant S. S. Williams; born Wanganui, 4 Feb 1920; diesel engineer; joined
RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 22 Dec 1944.
Pilot
Officer Stafford,
Flight Lieutenant J. H. Stafford, DFC; born New Lynn, 19 Aug 1922; student; joined
RNZAFMar 1942.
Pilot Officer Smith,
Flying Officer K. A. Smith; born Masterton, 20 May 1922; clerk; joined RNZAF Oct
1940; p.w. 26 Apr 1945.
and Warrant Officers Hooper
and Kalka
Flying Officer W. A. Kalka; born Auckland, 12 Jun 1923; electrical engineer; joined
RNZAFSep 1941; killed on air operations, 25 Mar 1945.
were each credited with the destruction of eight. In
addition, ten more New Zealanders who flew with No. 486 Squadron
had individual scores of five or over.
The squadron's many successes were not achieved without cost.
Three pilots were killed and ten injured, while seventeen Tempests
were destroyed or damaged beyond repair and a similar number
suffered minor damage. Most of the casualties resulted from aircraft
being caught in the flames or struck by wreckage from bursting
bombs. But there were other hazards. Towards the end of July one
Tempest, diving through cloud in pursuit of a V-1, flew into a
Spitfire flying below. The wing tip of the Tempest tore through
the rear of the Spitfire's cockpit and both pilots were killed in the
double crash. On patrol early in July Warrant Officer Sheddan
Squadron Leader C. J. Sheddan, DFC; born Waimate, 3 Mar 1918; tractor driver;
joined RNZAFApr 1941; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945.
had
what was probably a unique experience. While pursuing a target
over the Eastbourne area – he had just destroyed one and attacked
another – an empty cannon-shell case, ejected by another aircraft
flying close by, lodged in his engine and cut the oil supply. Sheddan
was forced to crash-land and was thrown out of his machine and
injured, but fortunately not seriously; he was able to rejoin the
squadron a month later.
Among New Zealand fighter pilots flying with RAF units the
most successful was Flight Lieutenant A. E. Umbers who commanded
a flight in No. 3 Tempest Squadron – the top-scoring unit in this
campaign. Umbers quickly demonstrated his skill in intercepting
and shooting down flying bombs. He achieved his first success on
16 June. Four days later he had raised his score to five and by the
end of the main campaign he had at least seventeen confirmed
successes to his credit. He flew his most successful patrol one
morning early in August, destroying three and sharing in the
destruction of another – the fourth would have been wholly his had
not a Mustang pilot stolen in while he was firing and cheated him
of his prey.
Other successful pilots were Flight Lieutenant Madden,
Flight Lieutenant B. M. Madden; born Wellington, 2 Nov 1919; law clerk; joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 18 Dec 1944.
who
commanded a flight of No. 610 Spitfire Squadron, Flight Lieutenant
Kleinmeyer,
Flight Lieutenant R. G. Kleinmeyer, DFC; born Toowoomba, Australia, 27 Sep 1917;
surveyor's assistant; joined RNZAFJan 1941.
flight commander in No. 129 Mustang Squadron,
Flight Lieutenant Bonham
Flight Lieutenant G. L. Bonham, DFC; born Dunedin, 24 Mar 1921; P & T employee;
joined RNZAFJul 1940; killed on air operations, 25 Sep 1944.
of No. 501 Tempest Squadron, and
Flying Officer A. N. Sames, who flew with No. 137 Typhoon
Squadron. On one patrol Madden found his ammunition exhausted
whilst attacking so he flew alongside the bomb and tried to tip it
over with his wing. Twice the bomb righted itself but his persistence
was rewarded when, at the third attempt, it turned over and plunged
down to explode in a wood. Kleinmeyer adopted even more unusual
tactics to destroy his target one evening early in August. During his
approach he overshot but, turning sharply, he flew across the nose
of the bomb, catching it in the slipstream from his aircraft so that
it rolled over and crashed. On patrol towards the end of August
Bonham destroyed three bombs in thirty minutes without firing
a single shot. Having expended all his ammunition in blowing up
his first target in mid-air, he went on to intercept three more bombs
and in each case succeeded in tipping them over with his wing.
Sames had several narrow escapes. On one occasion his second burst
ignited the bomb's fuel supply and he flew straight through a sheet
of flame which badly scorched his aircraft. Another day when he
exploded a bomb in mid-air, his Typhoon was hit by wreckage,
several pieces passing through the wings and fuselage.
Two New Zealand pilots who had successful night patrols were
Flight Lieutenant Walton
Flight Lieutenant R. C. Walton; born Tauranga, 16 Sep 1916; farmer; joined RNZAFOct 1941.
and Flying Officer Worthington,
Flight Lieutenant J. C. Worthington, DFC; born Waihi, 18 Oct 1918; butcher; joined
RNZAFOct 1941.
both
flying with No. 605 Mosquito Squadron from Manston airfield.
By night the glare from the propulsion unit made the sighting of
flying bombs relatively easy, but this advantage was somewhat discounted by the difficulty of assessing the range and bringing accurate
fire to bear; moreover, to gain a margin of speed over their targets
the Mosquitos had to attack in a dive. Nevertheless, on successive
nights towards the end of June, Walton and his British navigator
succeeded in destroying two flying bombs in a single patrol.
While fighter pilots were thus achieving outstanding success in
shooting down the V-1s in flight, bomber crews flew across the
Channel to attack launching areas, storage depots, and targets
connected with the manufacture of the German weapons. In the
three months from mid-June 1944, RAF Bomber Command
despatched some 16,660 sorties to drop 60,237 tons of bombs. Aircraft of US 8th Air Force added a further 16,400 tons in 6415
sorties. Medium and fighter-bombers of Second Tactical Air Force
also joined in the assault whenever they could be spared from their
main task of supporting the Allied armies on the Continent; they
contributed another 1700 tons of bombs. Unfortunately, this massive
air effort – Bomber Command's contribution alone equalled a
complete month's bombing at the height of the bomber offensive –
was not attended by the success which had marked the attacks earlier
in the year. In particular, the bombing of launching sites, which
absorbed most of the effort, seems to have had little effect on the
German rate of firing their missiles. The new ‘modified’ sites, small
and well hidden as they were, proved difficult targets; moreover,
they were cheap and easy to build and the Germans had ample
reserves, so that whenever the bombers succeeded in destroying one
of them another sprang up in its place.
The raids on the enemy transport and supply organisation,
especially those in which Bomber Command used its five-ton ‘Tall-
boy’ bombs, were somewhat more effective. Early in July the RAF
attacked one of the main storage depots situated in what had
previously been mushroom-producing caves in the limestone hill
overlooking the River Oise at St. Leu d'Esserent. In two attacks
within three nights Lancasters of No. 5 Group dropped over 2280
tons of bombs, including eleven ‘Tallboys’. The approaches to the
tunnels were blocked, the roofs of the caves collapsed at a number
of places, and some 300 flying bombs were buried beyond hope of
recovery. The whole area between the river and the bomb store was
also ploughed up by craters and both road and rail communications
disrupted. For the next ten days after these attacks the daily average
of flying-bomb launchings fell by nearly a third. Other storage
depots, notably those at Foret de L'Isle Adam, Domleger, St. Martin
L'Hortier and Nucourt, were attacked by RAF bombers during July
and August. After the war the Germans admitted that such raids
seriously upset their supply system and prevented operations to the
full capacity of the available launching sites.
Crews flying these missions over France found that opposition
both from fighters and anti-aircraft batteries was usually less severe
than that experienced over targets in Germany. However, on 7 July
when 228 Lancasters attacked St. Leu d'Esserent, German night
fighters stationed in France were reinforced by others from the Low
Countries and in bright moonlight they succeeded in shooting down
thirty-one of the bombers – this was almost a quarter of Bomber
Command's total losses in attacks on V-weapon targets during these
months. Flight Lieutenant Milne
Flight Lieutenant M. McL. Milne, DFC; born Hastings, 7 May 1915; diesel engineer;
joined RNZAFDec 1941; died 1 Aug 1952.
and his crew of No. 50 Squadron
had an eventful flight. They had just bombed when their Lancaster
was set upon by a Messerschmitt night fighter. One shell burst in
the starboard outer petrol tank and another went through the main
spar; petrol caught fire and acted as a beacon to other night fighters.
However, by fine airmanship Milne evaded three further attacks
and got his bomber safely back to England. On another raid Pilot
Officer King
Flying Officer H. J. King, DFC; born Dunedin, 13 Nov 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1942.
of No. 158 Squadron, although wounded, navigated
his Halifax back to base after it had been holed in over 130 places.
Only a few months earlier King and his bomb aimer had nicknamed
their aircraft ‘Friday the 13th!’
Lancasters from No. 75 Squadron flew in eleven of Bomber
Command's raids on V-weapon targets. Altogether 223 sorties were
despatched, which represented more than one-fifth of the total
squadron effort from the eve of D Day until the end of August.
The squadron was fortunate in losing only one crew during these
attacks although several aircraft were badly damaged by flak. Whilst
attacking a launching site near Linzeux early in July, one Lancaster
ran into heavy anti-aircraft fire, and a shell, bursting directly below
the starboard wing, sent the bomber into a violent dive. It went
zooming down for some 5000 feet before the captain, Pilot Officer
Wisker,
Flying Officer R. J. Wisker, DFC; born Stockton, 15 Dec 1918; rope splicer; joined
RNZAFSep 1941.
could regain control and level out. Undeterred by this
experience and the fact that his machine was now difficult to handle,
he determined to go on and complete the attack. Shortly afterwards
an engine failed and Wisker had a hard struggle to maintain height,
but eventually base was reached and a safe landing made. It was then
found that shell fragments had holed the Lancaster in more than two
hundred places.
Typical of this spirit in which the squadron faced enemy opposition was the action of bomb aimer Flying Officer Mayhill
Flight Lieutenant R. D. Mayhill, DFC; born Auckland, 6 Feb 1924; student; joined
RNZAFAug 1942.
during
the attack on the storage depot at Pont Remy. His Lancaster was
hit as it neared the target and he was wounded in the face and
eyes by perspex splinters. The electrical release system was out of
action, blood was streaming down his face and he was in great
pain, but he insisted on completing his duties and, working the
bomb release by hand, made his attack.
Thirty-eight crews from No. 75 Squadron took part in the two
August raids on Russelsheim, which contained the huge Opel
motor works where flying bombs were being manufactured. Enemy
fighters were active on both nights and three of the New Zealand
Lancasters were among the thirty-five bombers which failed to return.
These attacks were part of a series of Allied raids on the sources of
flying-bomb production, and in addition to Bomber Command's
attacks, aircraft of US 8th Air Force bombed the experimental
establishment at Peenemunde and also raided the Volkswagenwerke
at Fallersleben, the largest pressed-steel works in Germany.
Heavy bomber operations against V-weapon targets virtually
ceased when the main flying-bomb attack came to an end early in
September 1944. Many fighter squadrons were then also released
from their defensive patrols over England. At the end of the month
the Tempest Wing, which included No. 486 New Zealand Squadron,
flew to the Continent to join Second Tactical Air Force, and thereafter the Tempests were mainly employed in close support of the
ground forces and in attacks on enemy communications. Apart from
occasional sorties by aircraft from 2nd TAF the reconnaissance and
attack of V-weapon sites in Holland was now left to the fighter
squadrons remaining in England.
From mid-September until the end of 1944 the flying bombs which
reached England were all launched at night from converted Heinkel
bombers over the North Sea. RAF Mosquitos flew interception
patrols in all weathers and shot down sixteen of these carrier air-
craft. Against the missiles themselves the British defences continued
to achieve notable success. Of the 576 bombs that approached the
coast between 16 September and 14 January 1945 – when this form
of attack was finally abandoned by the Germans – 331 were destroyed
by the gun batteries, night fighters destroyed another 71, and only
66 reached Greater London. But during the early morning of 24
December the Heinkels sprang a surprise when they launched their
bombs off the east coast with Manchester as their target; although
only one bomb fell in Manchester itself, six went down within ten
miles of the city centre and eleven more within fifteen miles. The
Germans had, in fact, succeeded in turning the northern flank of
the defences but fortunately they were unable to develop this new
line of attack. Three weeks later the airborne launchings ceased
entirely.
In March 1945 the Germans made a final attempt to attack
London with flying bombs of longer range – 220 miles instead of
the original 150 – which they fired from ramps in Holland. The
attempt was frustrated by the defences and by renewed attacks on
the launching sites. Of more than 150 bombs fired by the Germans
only thirteen reached the British capital. But it must be remembered
this was not the only threat that London had to withstand during
the last nine months of the war. Early in September 1944 the
Germans had begun firing their second reprisal weapon, the V-2
rocket.
Preparation of counter measures against the V-2 had been
hampered by lack of knowledge regarding its exact nature and
performance. Early estimates of the size and destructive power of
the missile varied enormously and it was not until July 1944, barely
two months before the attack began, that definite information
became available. This was partly because the Germans, perturbed
by Bomber Command's raid on Peenemunde in August 1943, had
moved most of the development work connected with the V-2 to
a new station at Blizna, about 170 miles west of Warsaw. Seven
months elapsed before this was discovered. However, thanks to the
work of Polish agents, the interrogation of prisoners, the capture of
documents and the examination and reconstruction of a rocket which
fell in Sweden, fairly accurate details were available before the first
rocket landed in England.
The work of the Polish agents was outstanding. Not only did
they set up an organisation so that they could reach places where
rockets fell before the German search parties, but they even planted
men in Blizna itself. Their work was crowned by a remarkable
exploit in which their leader was picked up in Poland by the RAF
and brought to the United Kingdom by way of Italy, with all the
documents and parts that he was able to carry. The captain of the
Dakota aircraft which picked him up was Flight Lieutenant
Culliford,
Flight Lieutenant S. G. Culliford, DSO, Virtuti Militari (Pol.); born Napier, 18 Mar
1920; student; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
a New Zealander flying with No. 267 Transport
Squadron. His report of the mission tells how it nearly ended in
disaster.
The airstrip in the Carpathian Mountains selected for the ‘pick-
up’ was in German hands by day and was only taken over by the
partisans at night. When Culliford landed, guided only by the light
of their torches, they told him that some four hundred Luftwaffe
personnel were encamped about a mile from the field and that a
considerable force of German troops was also on the move in the
vicinity. The Dakota was therefore unloaded and reloaded ‘with
incredible rapidity’, and in less than five minutes was ready to take
off. Culliford opened the throttles but the machine remained
stationary – its brakes had jammed and the wheels had sunk into
the soft ground. What followed is best described in Culliford's own
words:
We cut the connections supplying hydraulic fluid to the brake drums but
in spite of all boost used the machine refused to budge. I stopped the
engines and reluctantly prepared to destroy the machine. But first, we
managed to persuade the people on the ground to delay a little, and on
investigation it was found that the wheels were deeper into the earth,
although they showed no signs of having revolved. The second pilot
managed to produce a spade and each wheel was dug out. The passengers
were reloaded with their equipment, the engines started, and we tried again.
The machine slewed slightly to starboard and stopped. We again stopped
the engines, and once again prepared to demolish the machine – the wireless
operator tore up all his documents and placed them in a position where they
would burn with the aircraft; we unloaded our kit and passengers, and
again looked at the undercarriage. The port wheel had turned a quarter of
a revolution.
Knowing that the personnel and equipment were urgently needed else-
where, we persuaded the people on the ground to dig for us for another
thirty minutes. This time the machine came free, and we taxied rapidly in
a brakeless circle, and finding that the people holding the torches for the
flare path had all gone home, we came round again with the port landing
light on and headed roughly N.W. towards a green light in the corner of
the field. After swinging violently towards a stone wall, I closed my starboard throttle, came round in another circle, and set off again in a N.W.
direction. This time we ploughed along over soft ground and waffled into
the air at 65 m.p.h. just over the ditch at the far end of the field.
Airborne, we found that we could not raise our undercarriage, having
lost all our hydraulic fluid, and finding our speed thus materially reduced,
we poured water from the emergency rations into the hydraulic reservoir
until we could pump up the undercarriage by hand.
Since it was now late, after over an hour's delay on the ground, a course
had to be set through an area known to be infested with night fighters,
because it was necessary to be out of Yugoslavia before daylight. No opposition was however encountered. Brindisi was reached just as the sun was
rising, and a successful up-wind landing, in spite of the lack of brakes, was
made on a runway under construction.
As August 1944 drew to a close there came positive indications
that rocket attacks on London were imminent and on 30 August
RAF fighters began to fly armed reconnaissance sorties over Holland
to locate and attack firing points. A week later, however, these
patrols, together with other counter measures, were suddenly dis-
continued. A wave of optimism had been raised by the rapid advance
of the Allied armies towards Belgium and Holland and on 4
September the British Chiefs of Staff decided that, with the capture
of the Pas de Calais, danger from the rocket had ended. This view
was not shared by Air Marshal Hill at RAF Fighter Headquarters,
whose Intelligence staff argued that attacks could still come from
western Holland, which lay within 200 miles of London. Neverthe-
less, on 7 September Mr Duncan Sandys of the War Cabinet
announced that the Battle of London was over, except possibly for a
‘few last shots’. It was soon evident, however, that the battle was far
from over. The following evening the first V-2 rocket fell in London
and during the next six months over a thousand rockets and nearly
five hundred flying bombs came down in England.
As soon as the rocket attacks began RAF fighters renewed their
patrols over south-west Holland. Photographic aircraft were also
despatched and machines from No. 100 Group, responsible for
radio counter measures, were sent up to listen for and jam any radio
signals which might be connected with the firing. At the same time
radar stations between Dover and Lowestoft were increased from
three to six, while sound-ranging and flash-spotting equipment were
sent to the Continent in the hope of locating actual firing points.
However, despite the use of every available device, exact location
by purely technical means proved an insoluble problem; all that
could be done was to indicate the general area. The Dutch Resistance
Movement provided much valuable information which was supplemented by the reports of Allied airmen, but even when all available
information was examined it still remained difficult to pinpoint
firing positions. This is not surprising for all that the Germans
needed to fire their rockets was a slab of concrete about twelve
feet square and a small platform in which to fit the fins of the
missile. The rockets were carried from factory to storage depot by
rail and then to the firing point by road on trailers specially fitted
so that the rocket could be raised to the vertical firing position.
Barely two hours were needed to prepare for firing and it was only
during this time that the sites were really vulnerable to discovery
and attack from the air.
Thanks largely to the Dutch, it was soon established that the first
rockets were being fired from the island of Walcheren and woods
around the Hague. Reports were also received that storage depots
had been set up at Wassenaar, near the Hague, on three estates
named Terhorst, Raaphorst, and Eikenhorst. On 14 September
thirty-seven aircraft of Bomber Command attacked Raaphorst with
192 tons of bombs; three days later thirty bombers dropped 172 tons
of bombs at Eikenhorst. During the first ten days of the assault
RAF fighter pilots flew nearly one thousand sorties against targets
thought to be connected with the rocket. Tempests of No. 486 New
Zealand Squadron took part in these operations until their transfer
to the Continent at the end of September. They attacked suspected
storage depots and firing points, camps and camouflaged buildings
hidden in woods near the Hague; lorries and trains on the supply
routes were other targets. On several occasions pilots saw the
peculiar vapour trails left by the rockets as they rose into the
stratosphere.
Fighter and fighter-bomber attacks continued throughout the
winter, Spitfires of No. 12 Fighter Group which operated from bases
in East Anglia bearing the brunt of the offensive. The Coltishall
Wing led by Wing Commander Fitzgerald,
Wing Commander T. B. Fitzgerald, DFC; born Timaru, 11 Jul 1919; joined RNZAFJun 1937; transferred RAFJun 1938; test pilot, Hawker Aircraft Ltd., 1942; test pilot,
De Havilland Aircraft Company Ltd., 1943–44; Wing Leader, Coltishall, 1944; Admin.
duties, HQ 2nd TAF, 1945; transferred RNZAF1946.
a veteran New Zealand
fighter pilot, did particularly good work. In the last six weeks of the
year its pilots flew 470 sorties and dropped over 54 tons of bombs
on rocket targets. Their Spitfire XVIs could carry two 250-pound
bombs and extra fuel tankage to operate direct from England; by
refuelling at advanced bases in Belgium, they could dispense with
the extra tank and take twice the weight of bombs. Flight Lieutenant
Oliver,
Flight Lieutenant B. J. Oliver, DFC; born Christchurch, 22 Jul 1922; labourer; joined
RNZAFFeb 1941.
flight commander with No. 602 Squadron, and Flight
Lieutenant H. J. Burrett, who led a flight of No. 229 Squadron,
were among the pilots who flew Spitfires of the Coltishall Wing.
Targets were attacked with notable skill and precision. On 24
December bombs were hurled into a block of flats in the centre of
the Hague that was being used by the Germans to accommodate
firing troops; a few weeks later two factories in Holland suspected
of manufacturing fuel for the rockets were successfully attacked;
storage depots, railway sidings, and road bridges were also frequent
targets. From January 1945 the main effort was concentrated against
the wooded parkland near the Hague known as the Haagsche Bosch,
which was then the principal firing area. Severe winter weather
restricted operations but towards the end of February the Germans
were forced to abandon the Hague woods and improvise firing
facilities in the racecourse at Duindigt to the north. The fighter-bombers followed them there and practically drove them out in the
middle of March. By that time the target area was heavily pitted
with craters and, according to one observer, ‘looked as if Bomber
Command and not Fighter Command had been attacking it.’ There-
after, the German V-weapon campaign became one of retreat and
abandonment, with a last few spiteful missiles being fired from
open roadways.
Thus Hitler's V-weapon attack finally fizzled out. Thanks largely
to the efforts of Allied airmen, a desperate attempt to snatch victory
with novel and ingenious weapons had been met and defeated,
albeit with heavy loss of life and much damage to property, but
without any effective hindrance to British war-making capacity or
to the operations on the Continent. Against the flying bombs the
Allied air forces had achieved particular success both in defence and
attack; effective counter measures to the rocket had proved more
difficult to devise, but the RAF fighter offensive, limited though it
was, had eventually succeeded in restricting the rate of firing while
the campaign against enemy transport by Second Tactical Air Force
also had its effect. Above all, there was the major achievement, in
which the RAF had played the principal role, of delaying the initial
attack by both flying bombs and rockets, a delay which robbed the
whole German campaign of any marked military effect.
CHAPTER 12
Forward to the Rhine
By the end of August 1944 the Germans were in full retreat
across France. The Battle of Normandy was won, Paris had been
liberated, and the Allied armies, sweeping over the Seine on a wide
front, pressed on towards the Belgian border in pursuit. Their
advance was extremely rapid. Within a week it took them across
the Somme and the Marne, through France and the Argonne, over
the very battlefields where the tide of the First World War had
ebbed and flowed for four long indecisive years. Montgomery's
spearheads covered a distance of 200 miles in four days to reach
Brussels on 3 September, and the next day they entered Antwerp,
hustling the Germans out of the city before they could begin
demolitions in the port. There was an equally forceful American
advance on the right to Liege and Metz. Meanwhile, the Canadians
enjoyed the sweet revenge of capturing Dieppe; then, moving north,
they invested the Channel ports and cleared large sections of the
‘flying bomb coast’ towards the Scheldt estuary. In the south the
Franco-American Army that had landed just east of Marseilles in
mid-August moved rapidly up the Rhone Valley to link up with
Patton's Third US Army. By the second week of September the
Allied front stretched from Antwerp to the Swiss border.
At this stage some confusion and uncertainty appear to have arisen
within the Allied High Command regarding future strategy.
Certainly, decision as to the next move was far from easy. Flushed
with success, each of the British and American army commanders
felt that the advance into Germany should be pressed forward at
once on his own particular sector. Montgomery, for example, argued
strongly for an immediate all-out thrust in the north across the
lower reaches of the Rhine to take the enemy forces by surprise
and defeat them on the northern plains of Germany. But problems
of supply, difficult enough during the early stages of the advance,
had now become acute. The British forces in Belgium, for example,
were still dependent on supplies brought by road from Bayeux, a
distance of 250 miles, while the American pipelines ran back even
further in a wide sweep of some 400 miles through Paris to
Cherbourg which, with the Germans holding the sea approaches to
Antwerp and the Channel ports not yet cleared, was still the closest
major port in working order. Eisenhower, who had now taken over
direct command of the land forces from Montgomery, was anxious
to relieve the supply position by opening the approaches to Antwerp;
then he favoured advancing to the Rhine on a broad front with his
army groups abreast. However, the attractive possibility of quickly
turning the German northern flank led him to delay the freeing of
Antwerp in favour of an attempt to seize the bridges over the Maas,
Waal, and Lower Rhine. This operation was begun in mid– September
with the aid of three airborne divisions, two American and one
British. Bad weather and the speed of the enemy's concentration
prevented a full success. The crossings of the Maas and Waal were
secured but that of the Lower Rhine at Arnhem had to be abandoned
after the British 1st Airborne Division had fought one of the most
gallant actions of the war.
With this setback, hopes of an early thrust into Germany faded.
All along the line enemy resistance was now stiffening, while in the
forward extremities of the Allied armies the life blood of supply
ran perilously thin. Eisenhower therefore determined to open
Antwerp. This involved the clearance of the Scheldt estuary, which
task was undertaken by the British and Canadian armies. It proved
more difficult than expected, and only after a whole series of
complicated and often bloody combined operations, including the
capture of Walcheren, was it finally completed early in November.
Meanwhile, to the south the American armies were pressing forward
to the German frontier through the Ardennes and the Vosges
mountains. Here they came up against formidable natural barriers
and the prepared defences of the Siegfried Line. Progress was slow
and losses heavy. Only at Aachen, which fell towards the end of
October, was there marked penetration of the main frontier defences,
and even here resolute German counter–action prevented a clean
breakthrough.
A general offensive, aimed at occupying the left bank of the
Rhine, began in mid-November but it was held up by appalling
weather – the worst for fifty years – which flooded the forward areas
and reduced many roads to quagmires. Throughout the front the
fighting descended to the worst kind of infantry slogging. Advances
were slow and laborious and gains were ordinarily measured in
yards rather than miles. The opening of Antwerp and the restoration
of main railways had eased the supply situation but this could not
compensate for the early onset of winter. The muddy state of the
ground made the defence of naturally strong positions much easier
for the Germans, while the dispersion of the Allied attacks relieved
them of anxiety about a dense concentration. They were, in fact,
offered an opportunity for recovery and counter-attack, of which
von Rundstedt was quick to take advantage. Troops were withdrawn
into reserve, armoured divisions refitted and a whole new army
created, together with a sizeable air striking force. These formations
were now employed in a daring and desperate thrust towards
Antwerp which Hitler hoped would wreck Allied plans and hopes
for an early end to the war. In the early hours of 16 December the
Germans struck at the thinnest sector of the American front in the
Ardennes.
The timing and direction of the attack took the Allies by surprise
and at first the enemy forces carried all before them. Dense fog
which shrouded the whole area for several days covered their
forward movement and enabled supplies and reinforcements to be
brought up without discovery and attack from the air. However,
contrary to Hitler's expectations, the American troops in the path of
the advance soon recovered from their initial shock and fought back
vigorously, in particular at the vital road junction of Bastogne,
where the stout resistance of 101 Airborne Division provided the
first setback to the German plan. The hinges of the salient also held
firm, thus preventing the enemy from widening his base of opera-
tions. By staunchly defending the northern flank, Montgomery was
able to deflect the course of the enemy's advance to the south-west
away from his immediate objective, the Meuse. Then, on 23
December the weather cleared. This was the beginning of the end
since the Allied air forces now took to the air in strength and fell
upon the German supply columns. Soon enemy formations found
themselves short of fuel, ammunition, and reinforcements and faced
by increasing resistance and determined counter-attack. By the
beginning of January they were in full retreat from the salient after
a maximum penetration of some 50 miles. However, the Germans
fought bitter rearguard actions to cover their withdrawal, so that it
was only after several weeks of hard battle that the Allies were able
to restore the position. Thereupon operations aimed at clearing the
area west of the Rhine were resumed after a delay of two months.
In bitter weather and over snow–covered ground, troops had to fight
their way through very difficult territory, but the supply situation
was improving and during February there was steady progress on
all sectors.
As the Allied armies pressed forward to the Rhine German
resistance became noticeably weaker. Heavy losses in the Ardennes
battle, the depletion of his strategic reserves and the growing dislocation in his rear as the result of the Allied bombing offensive,
all tended to weaken the enemy's strength in the West. Nor could he
expect any relief from other fronts, least of all from the East where
the Russian armies were now rolling forward across Poland towards
Germany. By the middle of March the British, American, and
French armies had fought and won their last major battle to the
west of the Rhine, and during the next fortnight they swept across
this barrier to begin the final advance into the heart of Germany.
The complete collapse of German resistance was now only a matter
of weeks.
German air operations over the western front in this last autumn
and winter of the war were relatively weak and ineffective. Only
during the Ardennes battle did the Luftwaffe appear in strength to
support its ground forces. Meanwhile the German squadrons were
driven first from France and then from Belgium, and finally forced
back in considerable disorder to airfields in western Germany, where
lack of fuel and facilities added to their difficulties. Subsequent
efforts to rebuild a close– support force for Rundstedt's armies were
hindered by the continuing shortage of fuel and the urgent need to
resist Allied heavy bomber raids. Indeed, in a desperate effort to
combat the bombing, the main fighter force was held back in
central Germany and built up strenuously to reach a strength of
some 3000 aircraft by mid–November 1944. Towards the end of
that month, however, Hitler ordered the transfer of a substantial
part of this force to the Western Front to support his gamble in
the Ardennes. In the face of strong counter- action by the Allied air
forces, it achieved little; squadrons suffered crippling losses both in
the air and on the ground and the plans so carefully prepared by
Goering and fighter leader Peltz went badly awry. A surprise attack
against Allied airfields which should have preceded the offensive did
not take place until New Year's Day 1945. It proved a costly, if
spectacular, enterprise and gave little help to the German armies for
they were then already on the defensive.
The attack was launched at dawn by some 750 fighter-bombers and fell mainly upon the
congested British airfields in Belgium. It achieved almost complete surprise and in low-level machine–gun attacks 155 Allied aircraft were destroyed and a further 135 damaged.
Anti-aircraft guns and Allied fighters already in the air or taking off in pursuit succeeded
in destroying 193 German machines. The Germans could ill afford such losses whereas
the Allies, although they received a rude shock, had adequate replacements available and
their operations were not seriously affected. On the actual day of the attack 2nd TAF
alone flew 1084 sorties.
Under the strain of heavy
losses and the growing fuel shortage the German air effort faded
away during the later stages of the Ardennes battle. In mid–January
considerable forces were transferred to the Russian front, and
thereafter Luftwaffe operations in the west were limited to armed
reconnaissance by jet aircraft and occasional harassing attacks which,
although often irritating, amounted to a negligible effort.
In sharp contrast the Allied air forces gave close support in full
measure throughout the campaign. Operating in formidable
strength – the average force available was some 12,000 aircraft –
they helped British and American troops to achieve their objectives
with the minimum of delay and with fewer casualties than had
previously seemed possible. The Second Tactical Air Force under
Air Marshal Coningham, Bomber Command under Air Chief
Marshal Harris, and Fighter Command under Air Marshal Hill
were the principal British formations involved, and for the most
part they were employed in co-operation with Montgomery's 21st
Army Group. The United States had its 9th Air Force, which
provided strong tactical formations for each of the American
armies, while heavy bombers of General Doolittle's veteran 8th Air
Force were also used in their close support. The general co-ordination
of the air operations was in the hands of Air Chief Marshal Tedder
at SHAEF (Supreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary Force)
which was established at Versailles early in October 1944.
A reorganisation of command, involving the absorption of Leigh-Mallory's AEAF
headquarters, had brought army and air staffs together at Versailles. Leigh-Mallory
was appointed to command the Allied Air Forces in SE Asia but, while flying to take up
this post, his aircraft crashed in the mountains near Grenoble and all on board were
killed.
Tedder's
task was far from easy but he possessed unrivalled experience of
close-support operations, and this, together with his deft handling
of both men and situations, proved of inestimable value to the
Allied cause.
Massive heavy bomber attacks at critical times in the land battle
-->
continued to be a prominent feature of Allied air operations.
Indeed, such was the extent to which the army had come to rely upon
heavy bomber support that there was, as Leigh-Mallory puts it,
‘danger of treating the heavy bomber as merely a component part
of Corps artillery thrown in to add some fire support.’
Leigh-Mallory was particularly critical of the large effort devoted to bombing the Channel
ports during September 1944. In a subsequent report he declared, ‘I feel that in the broad
view this bombing effort would have been more profitably directed against targets inside
Germany, particularly as the disorganisation of the retreating army was most acute at
this time. I should have been happier to see it used against focal points in the communication system behind the enemy frontier, in an effort to delay the movement of
reinforcements with which the enemy succeeded, in mid-September, in stabilising a line
along the Rhine and Moselle.’
It must be
remembered that the bombing had to be laid on to suit the army
plan and was sometimes delayed or postponed because the army
could not always be ready to attack at the agreed time or because of
unfavourable weather over the target. Bad conditions over the army
area sometimes coincided with good weather over Germany. Because
the heavy bombers had been committed to, and were standing by for,
attacks on the battle front, opportunities for using them against
vital industrial targets in Germany were lost. That the strategic
bomber forces were still able to achieve the almost complete breakdown of the German economy while contributing so much to direct
support of the Allied armies, is a remarkable tribute to their power
and efficiency at this stage of the war.
Royal Air Force Bomber Command made over ninety attacks
against targets on or near the battlefield during the advance from
the Seine to the Rhine. First came the assault on the German strong-
holdsstrongholds at Boulogne, Calais, Le Havre, and Brest. Within the space
of a month some 25,000 tons of bombs fell on these targets and,
in spite of Hitler's orders that these ports were to be ‘defended to
the last man’, they fell with remarkable rapidity. At Boulogne a
single raid by 762 aircraft led to the surrender of the town a few
days later, together with eight thousand prisoners. Calais also fell
quickly after a series of attacks in which 1637 aircraft dropped
nearly eight thousand tons of bombs within five days. But the most
spectacular victory of all was the reduction of Le Havre where
there was a particularly strong garrison of picked troops. During the
first week of September their defences were subjected to seven
attacks; in a single daylight raid no fewer than 5000 tons of bombs
were hurled into one small area. The town was captured on 12
September with relatively few British casualties and some 11,000
prisoners were taken. After Bomber Command's onslaught organised
resistance had become impossible. The bitter defence of Brest
continued until 19 September, when it finally surrendered to
American troops after heavy attacks by both British and American
bombers.
Bomber Command now swung north to help open the approaches
to Antwerp. The real key to Antwerp was Walcheren. This island
fortress, about nine miles in length and about the same distance in
breadth, had one weakness – it was almost entirely below sea level.
Bomber Command was requested to breach the protecting sea wall
to inundate the powerful inland batteries and thus open the way
for amphibious assault across the Scheldt. Operations began in daylight on 3 October when eight waves of thirty Lancasters attacked
Westkapelle, the most western promontory of the island. Here the
sea wall was more than 200 feet thick at its base, tapering upwards
to a thickness of 60 feet at the top, but a breach was quickly made
and water poured through, swamping four batteries and threatening
seven others as it spread over the island. A small force of Lancasters
following up with 12,000-pound ‘Tallboy’ bombs was able to return
without bombing and the operation earned Montgomery's praise
as one of ‘truly magnificent accuracy.’ In subsequent attacks the
British bombers cut the wall east and west of Flushing on the south
side of the island and at Veere on the eastern side. By the end of
October Bomber Command had flown a total of 3200 sorties and
dropped over 10,000 tons of bombs on the sea walls, gun batteries,
and enemy strongpoints. The batteries were difficult targets and the
weather was frequently atrocious, but crews did their best and
their attacks were certainly a great help to the land and sea forces
in the final clearance of the Scheldt estuary.
During the autumn and winter months substantial support was
given to the Allied armies fighting their way towards the Rhine. On
7 October seven hundred Lancasters and Halifaxes attacked the
towns of Cleve and Emmerich, south-east of Nijmegen on the flank
of the British Second Army. There was tremendous destruction at
both targets. The same day Lancasters of No. 617 Squadron, using
‘Tallboys’, broke the Kembs Dam on the Upper Rhine, north of
Basle; this attack was made at the request of the Americans, who
feared the Germans would open the sluice gates to let loose a great
flood of water when their troops attempted to cross the river. In
mid-November Bomber Command gave further assistance to the
United States First and Ninth Armies in their advance against
German positions on the line of the River Roer. In preparation for
the ground attack, 1130 British aircraft bombed the towns of Duren,
Julich, and Heinsburg just behind the front in order to disrupt
communications and destroy enemy troop concentrations, stores, and
supply depots. All three towns were practically wiped out.
When the Germans counter-attacked in the Ardennes RAF
bombers operated intensively over and behind the battle area. On
26 December, at a critical point in the fighting, 300 Lancasters and
Halifaxes bombed the important road centre of St. Vith, completely
blocking it with rubble and seriously hindering enemy movement
forward; a few days later an attack on German concentrations at
Houffalize inflicted severe losses. Behind the front, rail targets at
Bonn, Coblenz, Munchen-Gladbach, Rheydt, and Trier were all
heavily bombed; in the last week of December British crews dropped
nearly 13,000 tons of bombs on such objectives. After the war
German Minister Speer declared: ‘Transport difficulties were decisive
in causing the swift breakdown of the Ardennes offensive – the most
advanced railheads of the Reichsbahn were withdrawn further and
further back during the offensive owing to the continuous air
attacks.’
In the subsequent fighting west of the Rhine, Bomber Command
gave further demonstrations of its striking power in support of the
armies. The heavy raids on Cleve, Goch, and Wesel were particularly
effective in opening the way for assault by the British and Canadian
armies; attacks on bridges, strongpoints, and key communication
centres also helped to speed the advance.
No. 75 NZ Lancaster Squadron contributed its full share to
Bomber Command's attacks in support of the ground forces. During
operations against the Channel ports in September, crews operated
on eight occasions. For the one major attack on Boulogne fourteen
Lancasters were sent from Mepal; in three attacks on Calais there
were fifty-three sorties, and against Le Havre ninety-nine sorties
were flown on four missions within five days. These raids were
completed without incident except for one machine which crashed
on return after two of its engines had been knocked out by flak over
Boulogne.
In October No. 75 flew five army support missions, four of them
against targets at Walcheren Island. Twenty-one crews took part in
the big raid which breached the sea wall at Westkapelle when,
according to the squadron diary, ‘some crews had to make two or
three attempts owing to low cloud,’ but ‘the bombing was good and
some flooding was seen.’ The remainder of the squadron's effort
was directed against gun batteries at Flushing and Westkapelle.
On 16 November twenty-five New Zealand bombers took part in
the bombing attacks which preceded the American offensive in the
area of Heinsburg. The squadron record says: ‘All crews were
successful in bombing the town which was identified visually. As
aircraft left, the whole area was covered by a thick pall of smoke.
Flak fairly intense but only two aircraft received minor damage.’
During the German offensive and Allied counter operations in
the Ardennes, No. 75 Squadron bombed railway centres and
marshalling yards serving enemy troops. Altogether 182 sorties were
flown for the loss of two aircraft. On 21 December twenty
Lancasters went to Trier; two days later a further twenty-one sorties
were made against this target. In the last five days of 1944 New
Zealand crews bombed railway facilities at Rheydt, Cologne,
Coblenz, and Vohwinkel. During the evening of 1 January
Vohwinkel was again attacked; raids on Neuss and Krefeld
followed within the next ten days, and on the 13th the squadron
was represented in the first of the two attacks which devastated the
marshalling yards at Saarbrucken.
After the Ardennes campaign the main targets for the Lancasters
were communications and oil centres in Germany, but in March
they returned to the battle area to make a series of attacks on
bridges and strongpoints near the proposed bridgehead across the
Rhine. No. 75's contribution was substantial. For example, in
Bomber Command's four attacks on Wesel, three of them by day,
New Zealand crews flew a total of seventy-one sorties. All were
completed without major incident.
Spectacular and extensive though they were, these operations
over the battlefield by the heavy bombers were necessarily intermittent since their main task had long been to strike ahead of the
armies into Germany itself. The main burden of day-to-day support
was therefore borne by the Allied fighter and medium-bomber
squadrons with their constant patrols against ground targets,
protection of forward areas from enemy air attacks, fighter escort,
and such routine but very necessary tasks as visual, photo and
weather reconnaissance. It was in this role that the RAF's Second
Tactical Air Force did magnificent work.
Second Tactical Air Force had four main sections: No. 83 Group,
a force of fighters, fighter-bombers, and reconnaissance aircraft
assigned to support Second British Army; No. 84 Group, a similar
force which had the task of helping First Canadian Army; No. 85
Group, a base defence formation operating fighters and night
fighters; and finally, the veteran RAF No. 2 Group, a day and night
medium-bomber force which covered the whole of 21 Army
Group's front.
As the campaign progressed tremendous efforts were demanded
of the ground, engineering, and supply staffs in order to keep these
forces operating as far forward as possible, thereby increasing their
range and endurance over the front. The initial transfer of some
eighty squadrons and their equipment to the Continent was in itself
a major achievement. Later, with the need for forward deployment
it became necessary to build airfields from virgin ground as well as
to reconstruct and repair existing bases, yet during the winter months,
when the difficulties of supply and maintenance were increased by
heavy rains, frost, and snow, relatively few airfields were out of
action, and supplies continued to come forward in quantity.
An outstanding feature of 2nd TAF organisation was the Mobile
Wing in which every necessary detail of a static airfield was
duplicated on wheels or under canvas. Briefing rooms, operations
rooms, flying-control vans, signals offices, to say nothing of all kinds
of heavy workshops, messes, and kitchens, could all take to the
road at short notice. Even runways and roadways of steel-wire track
could be rolled up in sections and stowed on lorries which rumbled
forward in long convoys over the cobblestone roads of France and
Belgium. Thus, like small villages, units could be clustered behind
the armies at any given point, with their squadrons flying from
captured airfields or landing strips formed by bulldozers.
Four New Zealand squadrons were to operate with Second
Tactical Air Force during this period: No. 485 Spitfire Squadron
and No. 486 Tempest Squadron in day-fighter patrols, No. 487
Mosquito Squadron in medium-bomber attacks, and No. 488
Mosquito Squadron in night patrols over enemy territory. In addition,
New Zealanders were to fly with RAF formations, some of them as
wing and squadron leaders, many more as pilots of Spitfire, Tempest,
and Typhoon fighters or as captains, navigators, wireless operators,
and gunners with Mitchell and Mosquito bombers.
Three New Zealanders had the distinction of commanding wings
in 2nd TAF at this time. Group Captain Jameson was in charge of
a mobile wing of Tempest fighters supporting the British Army,
Group Captain Scott controlled a wing of rocket-firing Typhoons,
or ‘Tiffies’ as they were known, working with the Canadian Army,
and Group Captain Kippenberger, who had been with the RAF in
France during 1940, returned to command a three-squadron wing
of Boston and Mitchell medium bombers. It is also interesting to
record that two New Zealanders, Wing Commanders Deere and
Yule, were responsible for planning and controlling many of the
operations by the fighter wings of Second Tactical Air Force. As
operations officers at the Group Control centres of Nos. 83 and 84
Groups, they kept in touch with the army by means of field communications and teleprinters and liaison officers, so that requests for
air support could be promptly and effectively met. At No. 2 Group
HQ another experienced New Zealand pilot, Wing Commander
Magill, continued to be responsible for planning and arranging
medium-bomber operations.
The closing days of August 1944 saw 2nd TAF squadrons operating intensively over and ahead of the British armies as they surged
towards Belgium in pursuit of the enemy. The open rolling country
through which the pursuit passed offered few places for concealment and was eminently suitable for low-flying attacks by fighters
and fighter-bombers, so that, with pilots now highly experienced
in such operations, action against the retreating enemy columns
proved singularly successful. As the ground forces advanced
squadrons made a series of leapfrog moves across northern France
to the Dutch frontier; ground staffs and fuel were brought forward
by air whenever possible, and on occasion aircraft of the Tactical
Air Force were themselves used for transport.
By the second week of September Coningham had established
his main headquarters at Amiens, No. 83 Group and its squadrons
were in the Brussels area, and No. 84 Group was in the Pas de
Calais with its units at Merville and Lille. Fighters and fighter-bombers of No. 83 Group now turned to cover the consolidation
of Montgomery's forces in Belgium and Holland and to harass the
enemy as he continued his withdrawal north of Antwerp and Ghent.
The crossing places to the islands in the Scheldt estuary provided
good targets, and effective attacks were also made on roads and
railways along the left bank of the Maas and to the east of the
Rhine. Units of 84 Group were simultaneously employed in helping
the Canadians with their attacks on the Channel ports where, using
both rocket and bomb, they did particularly good work in softening
the enemy defences. Meanwhile, 85 Group's main headquarters and
a fighter operations room had been set up at Ghent, whereupon the
main tasks of its squadrons became the night defence of 21 Army
Group area and intruder operations behind the enemy lines. The
medium bombers of No. 2 Group, still operating from bases in
England, took part in the assault on the Channel ports and the
Scheldt crossings and continued to attack enemy rail and water
transport over a wide area both by day and by night.
Montgomery's attempt to force a crossing of the Lower Rhine by
capturing the bridges between Eindhoven and Arnhem began on
Sunday, 17 September, and in support of this operation 2nd TAF
and Fighter Command made a notable effort. Particularly effective
were the cover, escort, anti-flak, and perimeter patrols flown for the
airborne operations. On the first day not one British troop-carrying
aircraft or glider bound for Arnhem was lost by enemy action and the
casualties suffered by the Americans were almost entirely due to flak.
The next day the aerial convoys which left England were much more
vulnerable, for this second lift was made up almost entirely of tugs
and gliders – slow, unwieldy combinations incapable of protecting
themselves by violent evasive action. Nevertheless, their fighter
screen was so vigilant and strong that of the 1200 gliders which
took off from England only thirteen were shot down. Fighter-bombers also operated in direct support of the ground forces
advancing to link up with the troops dropped from the air, while
the mediums bombed the roads and railways along which the
Germans would try to bring reinforcements. A notable example of
the help afforded by fighter-bombers occurred the first afternoon
when elements of Second British Army moving up towards Eindhoven called for assistance against counter-attacking German troops
concealed in woods on both sides of the road. ‘Soon,’ says one
observer, ‘a constant stream of Typhoons was skimming down
almost to the tops of the trees to fire their rockets and machine-guns.
Eight Typhoons from 83 Group arrived every five minutes and as
each aircraft made several strikes, it appeared to the onlooker that
the stream was continuous. After the first half hour a “cab-rank” of
eight Typhoons was on call overhead all the time. As the tanks
of the Irish Guards rolled forward up the road the Typhoon pilots
were directed to their targets by radio from an armoured vehicle
moving with the column. The white road standing out against the
dark pines was easily identified and all the tanks carried orange
markings which were plainly visible from the air. The Typhoons
were so efficiently directed that they were able to strike at targets
within two hundred yards of the tanks.’
During the week of bitter fighting which followed, the medium
and fighter-bombers continued to strike at German positions in and
around the town of Arnhem and at enemy troops moving towards
it; fighters escorted the reinforcement and supply-carrying aircraft
and maintained cover over the battle area. So effective were the cover
patrols that, except for an occasional nuisance raid, all but the most
forward ground forces remained free from interference by the
German Air Force. Unfortunately, however, the weather succeeded
where the Luftwaffe failed. Not only did it prevent the timely
arrival of airborne reinforcements but it also hindered all-out attack
from the air against German formations moving in on the flanks of
the advance towards Arnhem, where British paratroops were under
increasing pressure from all sides. The Germans managed to effect
a surprisingly rapid concentration of forces to oppose Montgomery's
advance and prevent a widening of the corridor sufficiently quickly
to reinforce Arnhem. As a result it became impossible to hold the
town, and during the night of 25 September the remnants of the
gallant British 1st Airborne Division were withdrawn. Thus the
Allies failed to secure the last bridge that would have put them
across the Rhine, although after a stern struggle they managed to
retain the other crossings. On 27 September British Spitfires
completely frustrated a major effort by the Luftwaffe to destroy the
bridges at Nijmegen; of the 256 aircraft sent by the Germans,
forty-six were claimed destroyed.
See map on p. 379
During the autumn fighting in Holland and to the west of the
Rhine, 2nd TAF continued to operate day and night in support
of the British and Canadian armies. In the Scheldt estuary medium
and fighter-bombers kept up a continual pounding of enemy positions
and gave direct support in the various stages of the assault on the
island of Walcheren. Montgomery records how in the final attack
on Westkapelle fighter-bombers ‘pressed home a determined attack
just as the assault troops were about to land and this had a profound
effect on the operation at a time when the support craft were suffering heavy casualties.’ Second British Army fighting west of the Maas
also received valuable assistance in overcoming stubborn enemy rearguard action and counter-attack; a large measure of success attended
fighter-bomber attacks against gun emplacements, pillboxes, and
other strongpoints in the enemy lines, while the strafing of wooded
areas induced the enemy to abandon positions.
Equally effective was the vigorous offensive waged by both
medium and fighter-bombers against troop concentrations, supply
dumps, road and rail bridges, and transport centres behind the
enemy lines. On 12 October, for example, Typhoons attacked the
headquarters of General Student, commander of the redoubtable
German First Parachute Army, situated north-east of Emmerlich, and
claimed to have destroyed the centre of the building. Three days
later five squadrons of fighter-bombers attacked the headquarters of
the German Fifteenth Army at Dortrecht, scoring direct hits; some
two hundred casualties were reported, including a field marshal and
two generals.
The last months of 1944 brought particularly wet and stormy
weather which waterlogged airfields and gave poor visibility in the
air. Nevertheless, squadrons were quick to take advantage of any
break or clearance of the skies and continue their attacks over and
beyond the enemy lines. The frequent fighter-bomber operations
compelled German road and rail transport to move mainly at night,
which gave No. 2 Group's roving Mosquitos some excellent targets.
One night early in November these aircraft operating over western
Holland found forty-six trains which they bombed and machine-
gunned. By this time all the German trains were strongly defended
by anti-aircraft guns, and crews had to fly in to attack their
objectives in the face of withering fire. Moreover, the rapid repairs
made by the Germans required frequent visits to the same targets,
but there is strong evidence that the continual damage to lines and
bridges was now causing considerable embarrassment to the enemy
transport system. Further raids also took place against German headquarters in towns and villages, the most notable of which was an
attack by thirty-six Typhoons against the Gestapo headquarters in
Amsterdam on 26 November. During this period Fighter Command
Spitfires and Mustangs also operated frequently over Belgium and
Holland against German airfields and transport targets.
Second Tactical Air Force made a notable contribution to the
defeat of the German counter-attack in the Ardennes. During the
first week, squadrons flew in particularly difficult weather to provide
reconnaissance and to attack the enemy's forward units. Then, as
the skies cleared, medium and fighter-bombers operated in strength
against his supply columns and road and rail centres. In five days
they flew nearly 6000 sorties against such targets. Operations on 29
December were particularly successful; in addition to vigorous
action against the Luftwaffe, in which thirty-two enemy machines
were claimed destroyed, squadrons attacked forty-seven trains and
over two hundred vehicles. The ceaseless assault on supplies and
communications was, in fact, largely responsible for the collapse of
the enemy offensive.
As the broken German wave receded from the Ardennes, 2nd
TAF continued to attack road and rail communications and to
harass the retreating enemy columns. Then in the third week of
January its squadrons turned to support Montgomery's armies in
their drive to clear the area between the Rhine and the Meuse. The
main features of this operation as far as the ground forces were
concerned were the appalling weather in the early stages and the
intense opposition of the enemy. In the central and southern sectors
mud and slush were indescribable; heavily wooded areas were
lacking in roads and tracks and the low-lying meadows were either
flooded or saturated. ‘The advance,’ says Montgomery, ‘was mainly
conducted in various types of amphibious vehicles.’ The aircrews
for their part had to contend with poor visibility on many days as
well as sodden airfields and makeshift equipment on the ground.
Nevertheless, during February 2nd TAF flew a total of 18,520
sorties in close support of the ground fighting and against targets
behind the enemy lines. On one clear day towards the end of the
month, squadrons operating over a wide area reported attacks on
160 trains, 275 motor vehicles, 80 barges, and on 104 railway lines
and bridges.
It was during this period that German jet aircraft
Principally the Messerschmitt 262 which had been operating on a small scale as a fighter-bomber and reconnaissance aircraft since September 1944.
began to have
a nuisance effect but frequent attacks and patrols over their bases
kept them in check. In spite of indifferent weather and difficulties
of servicing and maintenance, 2nd TAF continued to hold mastery
of the skies, and by its ever vigilant reconnaissance, close support,
and constant attacks against enemy communications and supplies
made the task of Montgomery's armies much easier and less costly
in casualties. Early in March, by which time 21 Army Group had
reached the Rhine all along its front, 2nd TAF began to prepare
the way for the crossing of this last barrier and the final thrust into
Germany.
Such were the operations in which New Zealand airmen played
their part, both in the air and on the ground, with Second Tactical
Air Force. The contribution was a notable one, and not its least
interesting feature was the relatively large number of men who held
senior posts.
Foremost among them was that lively personality, Air Marshal
Coningham, who was in command of 2nd TAF itself. Coningham
deserves to be remembered among the most successful air leaders
of the Second World War. He had shown great skill in developing
this highly efficient weapon for close collaboration with the ground
forces and in its employment had displayed sound judgment and a
fine offensive spirit; indeed, such was the confidence placed in his
leadership that, in the Ardennes battle, American tactical squadrons
had also been placed under his control, so that during this vital
period he was virtually in control of all Allied close-support opera-
tions.
The same flair for leadership was shown in the lower formations
by such men as Jameson, Scott, and Crawford-Compton. By February
1945 Jameson's wing of Tempest fighters had, since D Day, claimed
the destruction of more than 200 enemy aircraft, together with a
formidable total of motor vehicles, tanks, railway engines, trucks,
and barges. Scott's Typhoon wing also enjoyed great success in its
operations, notably in support of the Canadian assault on the
Channel ports and during the battles at Arnhem and in the Scheldt
estuary. Crawford-Compton won further distinction flying as leader
of a Spitfire wing which included two Free French squadrons;
his third squadron – the famous No. 74 led by ‘Sailor’ Malan in
the Battle of Britain – was commanded by Squadron Leader
J. C. F. Hayter, who had led the unit in the Middle East before it
returned to take part in the Normandy campaign.
Other prominent fighter leaders were Wing Commander Mason
Wing Commander H. M. Mason, DFC; born Napier, 30 Sep 1921; motor engineer;
joined RNZAFMay 1941; commanded No. 183 Sqdn, 1945; Wing Leader No. 135
Wing, 1945.
and Wing Commander R. L. Spurdle. Mason first led Typhoons
under Scott and later a wing of Tempests which, under his aggressive
leadership, destroyed twenty-six enemy machines within three
months; in December 1944 he led a particularly successful raid on
a German headquarters in the Nijmegen area which drew prompt
congratulations from the army. Spurdle commanded a Tempest
squadron in Jameson's wing until the end of 1944, when he became
leader of a reconnaissance wing attached to the Canadian Army. He
was succeeded by Squadron Leader Mackie
Wing Commander E. D. Mackie, DSO, DFC and bar, DFC (US); born Waihi, 31 Oct
1917; joined RNZAFJan 1941; commanded No. 92 Sqdn, Middle East, 1943–44;
commanded No. 80 Sqdn and Wing Leader No. 122 Wing, 1945.
who had previously led
Spitfires in the Desert Air Force; by February 1945 Mackie was
credited with the destruction of eighteen enemy aircraft.
Squadron Leaders E. T. Brough, J. R. Cullen, M. R. D. Hume,
R. M. Mathieson, A. H. Smith, H. N. Sweetman, and K. F. Thiele
also led fighter squadrons in 2nd TAF with notable success during
this period, Sweetman and Thiele both enjoying the distinction of
commanding the famous No. 3 Tempest Squadron.
Thiele had a remarkable career. After two very eventful bomber
tours and a period with RAF Ferry Command, he had been transferred to fighters at his own request and by the end of the war had
won the Distinguished Flying Cross three times; he had also been
made a Companion of the Distinguished Service Order. With No. 3
Squadron, his luck held until one day early in February 1945 when,
while attacking a train near Dortmund, his Tempest was hit by flak,
the engine failed, and fire broke out in the cockpit. Badly burnt about
the face, eyes, and arms, Thiele baled out from about 2000 feet
and landed near the battery which had shot him down. He was
captured and roughly handled, but a month later he succeeded in
making his way back to the Allied lines.
Many New Zealand fighter pilots achieved a fine record of service
with RAF squadrons, notably Flight Lieutenant Mart,
Flight Lieutenant W. G. Mart, DFC; born Bournemouth, 11 Oct 1919; clerk; joined
RNZAFJul 1940.
prominent
with Tempests, Flight Lieutenant F. B. Lawless, who led rocket-firing Typhoons with great success during the Ardennes battle, and
Flight Lieutenant L. G. Mason, who flew Spitfires in attacks on
barges, trains, and motor vehicles.
Flight Lieutenant G. F. Reed did good work as captain of
Mosquito night fighters; on successive nights in March he destroyed
a Junkers 188 and a Heinkel 177. Flying Officer Wetere,
Flight Lieutenant J. H. Wetere, DFC; born Hoe-O-Tainui, 16 Aug 1918; civil servant;
joined RNZAFNov 1940.
on his
second tour of operations, and Flying Officer Milich
Flying Officer M. A. Milich, DFC; born Waiharara, 10 Apr 1921; driver; joined RNZAFAug 1942; killed on air operations, 8 Dec 1944.
were Maori
airmen to win distinction for their work with Typhoon squadrons;
Milich lost his life during a low-level attack on an enemy headquarters in Holland.
With the day and night bombers of No. 2 Group, Flying Officer
Freeman,
Flight Lieutenant N. D. Freeman, DFC; born Dunedin, 19 Dec 1917; advertising
salesman; joined RNZAFMay 1941.
a Mitchell pilot, Flying Officer Martin,
Flying Officer C. S. Martin, DFC; born Christchurch, 12 Mar 1920; clerk; joined RNZAFJun 1942.
who flew
Mosquitos, Flight Lieutenant G. A. H. Field and Flight Lieutenant
Wasey,
Flight Lieutenant W. H. Wasey, DFC; born Thetford, Norfolk, 7 Aug 1921; apprentice;
joined RNZAFJun 1941.
Mitchell navigators, and Flying Officers Barry
Flying Officer M. A. Barry, DFC; born Wellington, 1 May 1919; accounts clerk; joined
RNZAFMar 1941.
and Ingram,
Flight Lieutenant N. J. Ingram, DFC, DFM; born Wellington, 17 Nov 1918; accountant;
joined RAFAug 1938; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
who navigated Mosquitos, all earned particular distinction. Freeman,
now on his second tour – his first had been flown in the
Mediterranean where on one occasion he had shadowed the Italian
battle fleet for over eight hours – frequently led formations against
heavily defended targets. Martin flew many successful night sorties
against road, rail, and river traffic and was prominent in support
of the airborne landings at Arnhem. Field frequently flew as leading
navigator to his No. 226 Squadron and on occasion navigated for
his wing. By the end of November he had flown over ninety sorties
and had twice won commendation for outstanding work. Also flying
with No. 226, Wasey had by January completed no fewer than 120
sorties. Ingram, a veteran navigator who had been with light
bombers in France during the early days of the war, was now
completing his third tour of operations.
* * * * *
The four New Zealand squadrons with Second Tactical Air Force
each had a fine record of achievement. No. 485 Spitfire Squadron
was the first to operate from the Continent. It crossed to France
at the end of August 1944 and by the end of the following February
had flown more than 1390 sorties from bases in France, Belgium,
and Holland. Dive-bombing and strafing attacks in support of the
Canadian Army absorbed much of this effort, but pilots also flew
many armed reconnaissances over enemy territory and escorted
Mitchell, Boston, Lancaster, and Halifax bombers. For most of this
period No. 485 continued to enjoy almost incredibly good fortune
in that, from 21 October 1943 until 6 January 1945, not a single
casualty was incurred on operations. This was a record unique in
2nd TAF and all the more remarkable in view of the hazardous
nature of the squadron's work and the success it achieved.
From mid-September No. 485 was commanded by Squadron
Leader Pattison,
Squadron Leader J. G. Pattison, DSO, DFC; born Waipawa, 27 Jan 1917; farmer;
joined RNZAFOct 1939; commanded No. 485 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944–45.
a Battle of Britain pilot and one of the original
members of the squadron. Pattison, now on his third tour of opera-
tions, was expert in dive-bombing tactics, and his fine leadership
of the New Zealand squadron was subsequently recognised by his
admission to the Distinguished Service Order. Towards the end of
February Pattison was succeeded by Squadron Leader Macdonald
Squadron Leader K. J. Macdonald, DFC; born Dunedin, 30 Nov 1916; P & T employee;
joined RNZAFApr 1940; commanded No. 485 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945.
who, after service in the Pacific, had flown as a flight commander
of No. 222 Spitfire Squadron which operated in the same wing as
the New Zealanders. Flight Lieutenants L. S. Black, Browne,
Squadron Leader S. F. Browne, DFC and bar; born Wellington, 20 Oct 1919; medica
student; joined RNZAFMar 1941; commanded No. 485 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945.
Hardy,
Flight Lieutenant O. L. Hardy, DFC and bar; born Auckland, 31 Jul 1922; mechanica
engineer; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
A. B. Stead, and L. S. McQ. White served as flight commanders and gained distinction for their work with the squadron
during this period. Black was on his second tour with No. 485 –
altogether he served with the squadron for over two years; Browne
and Hardy had completed successful tours in North Africa; in 1942
Stead had been prominent in the defence of Malta and in long-range
dive-bombing missions from the island; while White had returned
to operations after evading capture in France. Flight Lieutenant
J. F. P. Yeatman, Flying Officers D. F. Clarke,
Flying Officer D. F. Clarke, DFC; born Te Kuiti, 3 Aug 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFDec 1941.
and R. M. Clarke
Flying Officer R. M. Clarke, DFC; born Matamata, 25 Apr 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFJan 1942.
were other pilots to achieve fine records. A veteran Maori fighter
pilot with the squadron was Flight Lieutenant Bennett,
Flight Lieutenant E. T. K. Bennett; born Hastings, 16 Mar 1920; labourer; joined
RNZAFMar 1941.
who had
flown with the Desert Air Force from El Alamein to Italy.
During the autumn of 1944 the New Zealand Spitfires flew from
Merville airfield to assist Canadian operations against the Channel
ports and in the Scheldt estuary. The first mission was flown on 13
September when No. 485 was one of three squadrons sent to attack
strongly held positions three miles south of Boulogne. As the
Spitfires left the area pilots saw enemy troops out in the open with
their hands high above their heads. During the following weeks
there were further spectacular attacks; direct hits were scored on
a gun battery at Dunkirk, defensive positions at Boulogne were
effectively strafed, and eleven direct hits scored on a gun battery
south-west of Calais.
Early in October Spitfires led by Flight Lieutenant Hardy took
part in a most successful mission which broke up German preparations for a local counter-attack against British and Canadian troops
on the border of Belgium and Holland. The target, a wood about
five miles south of Tilburg where enemy infantry were assembling,
was indicated by red smoke markers and the New Zealand pilots
twice swept the area with cannon and machine guns, pressing home
their attacks despite strong flak opposition. One Spitfire was hit, but
the pilot, Flight Lieutenant King,
Flight Lieutenant J. N. King; born Tauranga, 13 Aug 1921; orchard worker; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
succeeded in making a forced
landing just inside the Allied lines. For the remainder of the month
No. 485 was particularly active in dive-bombing and strafing enemy
pockets of resistance in the Breskens area; there were also several
successful attacks on gun positions and fortified buildings in the
vicinity of Oostburg just over the Dutch border. Pilots were quick
to seize every opportunity for harassing the enemy as, for example,
on 20 October, when the squadron was returning from a dive-bombing attack near Breskens and White sighted and blew up an
ammunition lorry parked in an orchard. He then led his section
down to strafe a nearby dump, and ammunition was seen ‘hurtling
about for twenty minutes afterwards.’
No. 485 Squadron took part in the reduction of Walcheren and
the final clearance of the Scheldt estuary. Twenty-four sorties were
flown to cover assault forces as they approached the island on 1
November, and in the following three days dive-bombing and
strafing attacks were made against enemy positions stubbornly
holding out. The squadron then returned to England for nearly
three weeks for an air firing course, but before the end of the month
was back in action. In December No. 485 played its part in the air
operations which did so much to repulse the German thrust through
the Ardennes. At first, like so many other squadrons, it was handicapped by persistent fog and the generally unfavourable weather;
nevertheless, pilots flew sixteen missions in the first critical fortnight,
mainly in support of Allied bombers. An interesting diversion from
these operations occurred on 26 December when six sorties were
flown to intercept midget submarines reported in the Scheldt
estuary. One section of two aircraft flown by Flying Officer Kearins
Flight Lieutenant T. S. F. Kearins; Croix de Guerre (Fr.); born Dannevirke, 15 Nov
1921; farmer; joined RNZAFNov 1940.
and Pilot Officer Collect
Flying Officer M. A. Collett; born Waipawa, 25 Oct 1923; civil servant; joined RNZAFApr 1942.
attacked three of these vessels; two were
claimed destroyed and a third escaped in a hurried dive.
On New Year's Day, when the Germans made their surprise
attack on Allied airfields, No. 485 was among the squadrons
unfortunate enough to be caught on the ground; had the airfield at
Gilze Rijen not been icebound the Spitfires would have been airborne at the time of the raid. As it was pilots could only fire at the
enemy machines with whatever weapons were available and soon
a pillar of smoke and flame rose from their own aircraft burning
on the ground. That day No. 485 lost thirteen of its Spitfires, but
fortunately replacement aircraft were received in a matter of hours
and full-scale operations resumed two days later.
During the early weeks of 1945, when the Allied armies were
fighting their way forward to the Rhine, No. 485 was mainly
employed in armed reconnaissance over forward areas. It was during
one such mission on 6 January that the squadron's long spell of
good fortune was broken. On patrol that afternoon Flight Lieutenant
Stead took his section down to attack a train, and as the locomotive
blew up his Spitfire and that of Pilot Officer Matthews
Pilot Officer F. C. Matthews; born Palmerston North, 1 Mar 1924; civil servant; joined
RNZAFSep 1942; killed on air operations, 6 Jan 1945.
were hit by
flying debris; Stead was killed while attempting a crash-landing and
Matthews fatally injured when he had to bale out at low level.
On 17 January twelve Spitfires made an outstanding attack
against the main dyke on the shore of the River Meuse, scoring
nine direct hits on the dyke and a direct hit on a nearby building.
The following weeks saw further attacks on rail and road transport.
During one of them five petrol lorries were blown up and five
more vehicles destroyed or damaged; on another occasion twenty-three motor vehicles were shot up. By the time of the Rhine crossing
the squadron scoreboard showed a formidable total of motor
vehicles, petrol tankers, barges, and railway targets destroyed or
damaged in addition to the enemy aircraft attacked both in the air
and on the ground.
No. 486 New Zealand Tempest Squadron, following its successful patrols against the flying bomb, flew to the Continent towards
the end of September 1944. There it joined Group Captain
Jameson's famous No. 122 Wing, which now moved forward to
Volkel airfield in Holland. When No. 486 Squadron arrived at
Volkel it was allotted a site which, as the squadron diarist puts
it, ‘consisted of the ruins of hangars and lot of mud.’ However,
the site was soon cleared, the aircraft began operating, and from the
debris of the blown-up enemy hangars there arose what came to be
known as ‘Shanty Town’ – a most wonderful collection of odd
buildings but all snugly built and equipped with bunks and stoves,
the latter acquired in the usual way. While operating from Volkel
the Tempests were often fired on in the circuit by German ground
forces firmly entrenched in the nearby Reichwald forest. There were
also intermittent attacks on the airfield by Me262 jet fighters carrying anti-personnel bombs, but the position was later reversed and
pilots were able to destroy several Me262s.
During the advance to the Rhine No. 486's main task was to fly
armed reconnaissances in support of Montgomery's Second British
Army, and by the end of February 1945 pilots had flown 1427
sorties and claimed twenty enemy aircraft destroyed, three probably
destroyed, and sixteen damaged. In addition, a substantial total of
enemy motor vehicles, tanks, locomotives, barges, and railway trucks
was added to the scoreboard. These successes were achieved for the
loss of eight pilots.
Squadron Leader J. H. Iremonger continued in command until
mid-December 1944, when he was relieved by Squadron Leader
A. E. Umbers. Two months later Umbers was killed when his
machine crashed in flames after being hit by a direct burst of flak
in the Meppen area. Flight Lieutenant K. G. Taylor-Cannon, one
of the flight commanders, was then promoted to lead the squadron.
Flight Lieutenants W. L. Miller, Powell,
Flight Lieutenant N. J. Powell; born Dargaville, 21 Apr 1921; butcher; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
J. H. Stafford, and
S. S. Williams served the squadron well as flight commanders during
this period.
The Battle of the Ardennes was a particularly successful period
for No. 486 with thirteen enemy aircraft destroyed, two probably
destroyed, and eight damaged within a month. It was while eight
Tempests were over the Julich-Malmedy area on Christmas Day
that the first Me262 jet aircraft definitely destroyed by the squadron
was shared by Flying Officers Bremner
Flying Officer R. D. Bremner, DFC; born Taihape, 25 Apr 1921; farmer; joined RNZAFMay 1942.
and Stafford. Two days
later, during an armed reconnaissance in the vicinity of Munster, a
similar formation ‘bounced’ a mixed force of over forty Me109s
and FW190s. A fierce dogfight ensued in which Flight Lieutenant
Taylor-Cannon, Flying Officer K. A. Smith, and Flying Officer Short
Flying Officer S. J. Short; born Cardiff, Wales, 10 May 1923; sewing-machine mechanic;
joined RNZAFJan 1942.
each destroyed a Focke-Wulf 190; Flight Lieutenant E. W. Tanner
got an FW190 and probably destroyed an Me109. Flying Officer
Hall
Flying Officer B. M. Hall; born Dannevirke, 21 Jan 1922; farmer; joined RNZAFMar 1942; killed on air operations, 27 Dec 1944.
damaged an Me109 and forced it to break off its attack on
Stafford. Hall failed to return and was last seen in combat with
another Messerschmitt.
When the Luftwaffe attacked Allied airfields on 1 January 1945,
No. 486 Squadron was in the air with Jameson's wing at the time.
Intercepting some of the raiders as they were making for their bases,
the wing destroyed eight enemy machines, probably destroyed
another, and damaged four. Of these the New Zealanders claimed
four FW190s and one Me109 destroyed, one FW190 probably
destroyed, and two Me109s damaged.
Umbers was leading the squadron on a reconnaissance to Hanover
when they were diverted to Eindhoven. A few moments later they
sighted a formation of enemy fighters. Umbers led the attack and
shot down two of them inside a minute. ‘I opened fire and observed
strikes on the wing roots and fuselage,’ he later reported. ‘The 190
streamed smoke and slowed up very suddenly but I maintained fire
until the last moment then pulled up violently to avoid him. As I
climbed I saw the 190 hit the ground, skid along and burst into
flames.’ He then saw a lone Me109 attempting to join a formation
of twenty flying above. As he went into the attack the Messerschmitt
broke violently to starboard but Umbers followed and, after a short
burst, saw it fall to the ground and explode. Flying Officer Trott
Flying Officer W. A. L. Trott, DFC; born Wellington, 4 Nov 1923; clerk; joined RNZAFDec 1941; killed in flying accident, 17 Feb 1955.
and Pilot Officers G. J. Hooper, C. J. Sheddan, and Steedman
Flying Officer J. Steedman; born Whangarei, 18 Aug 1922; farmhand; joined RNZAFApr 1942.
each
reported successful actions. Trott had attacked and damaged a
Messerschmitt when he in turn was engaged by three more of them.
Trott eluded his assailants and made for Volkel, arriving just in time
to pounce on a Focke-Wulf and send it down in full view of those
on the airfield who had been strafed by this machine. Hooper shot
down a Focke-Wulf and damaged a Messerschmitt; having expended
all his ammunition, he was returning to base when he sighted three
FW190s. He closed and made several dummy attacks, causing them
to fly in a tight circle, and called Sheddan and Steedman to the scene.
Sheddan then destroyed one of the enemy aircraft and Steedman
probably destroyed another.
During the early months of 1945 the New Zealand Tempests,
fitted with long-range drop tanks, ranged far ahead of the armies
seeking opportunities to cut the enemy's supply lines. Such places
as Rheine, Osnabruck, Munster, Minden, Bielefeld, Paderborn, and
Hanover became well known to pilots, and on one occasion they
even penetrated to within fifty miles of Berlin, attacking Hamm
marshalling yards on the return flight. On several occasions engines
were seen to blow up, and one day pilots had the satisfaction of
seeing a whole ammunition train explode in a mass of smoke and
flame. These missions, however, were not without their hazards.
During one attack on a train near Arnhem Flying Officer Cammock's
Tempest was hit by flak; almost at once it burst into flames and
crashed into the guards-van to explode on impact. In other low-level attacks Tempests flown by Flying Officer Hart
Flight Lieutenant W. A. Hart, DFC; born Wellington, 24 Jun 1921; insurance clerk;
joined RNZAFMay 1942; p.w. 7 Oct 1944.
and Hooper
were shot down by anti-aircraft fire; both pilots baled out and were
captured but Hooper subsequently escaped and after a series of
adventures reached the Allied lines.
One further incident deserves to be recorded. It happened in mid-February while the squadron was attacking a train some 15 miles
north of the Dummer Lake. Trott was just pulling out after making
his attack when his machine was hit by flak from batteries in nearby
fields and woods. He was severely wounded by a piece of shrapnel
which struck him in the left groin, but he flew the 150 miles back
to base, made a good landing, and taxied off the runway before he
finally collapsed.
No. 487 Mosquito Squadron won a high reputation for operational efficiency among RAF medium-bomber units and during the
advance to the Rhine crews flew some 670 sorties, mainly against
enemy movement by night. The squadron continued to operate from
an airfield near Portsmouth until early in February 1945, then it
moved to the Continent to be based at Rosieres en Santerre, about
25 miles east of Amiens.
Wing Commander Porteous,
Group Captain R. C. Porteous, DSO; born Ootacamund, Nilgiri Hills, India; joined
RAF1936; killed in flying accident, 9 Jul 1953.
an experienced English pilot who
had won distinction for his work in North Africa as a ‘tank buster’,
took over command from Wing Commander I. S. Smith at the end
of August and remained in charge until mid-December. He was then
succeeded by Wing Commander R. W. Baker, who had earlier led
the New Zealand Spitfire Squadron. Baker was lost over Germany
towards the end of February, whereupon Squadron Leader Denton,
Wing Commander F. H. Denton, DFC and bar; born Greymouth, 23 Apr 1917; joined
RAFJan 1940; commanded No. 487 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945.
one of the flight commanders, was promoted to lead the squadron.
Other flight commanders during this period were Squadron Leader
W. J. Runciman, a veteran bomber pilot, Squadron Leader Young,
Squadron Leader R. C. Young, DFC; born Kakanui, 22 Oct 1913; joined RAF1937;
transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
who at the outbreak of war was serving with a bomber squadron
at Aden, Squadron Leader Medwin,
Squadron Leader I. G. Medwin; born Ulverstone, Tasmania, 13 Jun 1917; salesman;
joined RNZAFJan 1941; killed on air operations, 6 Apr 1945.
who had flown on operations
from Malta, and Squadron Leader Kemp,
Wing Commander W. P. Kemp, DSO, DFC; born Russell, 1 Mar 1915; abattoir assistant;
joined RNZAFSep 1940; commanded No. 487 (NZ) Sqdn, 1945.
with two previous tours
in the Middle East on Beaufighters. Among the pilots, Flight Lieutenant Thorpe,
Squadron Leader G. D. Thorpe, DFC; born Eltham, 28 Jul 1917; commercial traveller;
joined RNZAFJul 1940.
Flying Officer Gilbertson,
Flying Officer L. D. Gilbertson, DFC; born Waipukurau, 2 Jul 1922; shepherd; joined
RNZAFFeb 1942; p.w. 22 Feb 1945.
and Warrant Officer
Cullum
Flying Officer R. Cullum, DFC; born Petone, 19 Feb 1922; labourer; joined RNZAFDec 1941.
achieved fine records with the squadron during these
months.
With the Allied advance, crews found their nightly patrols greatly
extended. They now ranged far and wide over Holland and well
into Germany to attack movement on railways, roads, canals, and
other targets of opportunity. In October many sorties were flown
against the docks and shipping at Flushing and targets in the
Breskens area. One night early in the month ten Mosquitos operated
over the Dutch islands with considerable success. Ships, barges, a
ferry terminus, and a factory were attacked and of the fifteen trains
bombed or strafed the majority were left burning. However, the
highlight of the squadron's work in October 1944 was the daylight
precision attack on the Gestapo headquarters at Aarhus in Denmark.
News had been received in London that the Resistance Movement
in Jutland was seriously threatened by the activities of the Gestapo
and the destruction of enemy records housed in two college buildings
of Aarhus University was essential if the movement was to continue
its work. Twenty-five Mosquitos from No. 140 Wing, No. 2 Group,
including nine from No. 487 Squadron, were selected for this difficult task, which involved a round trip of 1235 miles, more than half
of it over the sea. Escorted by eight Mustangs of No. 12 Group,
they set course for Denmark on the morning of 31 October.
Squadron Leader Denton, Flight Lieutenants Thorpe, Kemp, and
Anderson
Flight Lieutenant A. S. Anderson; born Sydney, 19 Oct 1911; hatter; joined RNZAFDec 1939; killed on air operations, 19 Nov 1944.
each piloted Mosquitos of the New Zealand squadron
and Flying Officer Coe
Flying Officer A. J. Coe; born Christchurch, 23 Jan 1920; labourer; joined RNZAFNov 1940; killed on air operations, 6 Apr 1945.
flew as navigator; Flight Lieutenant
Henderson
Flight Lieutenant W. C. Henderson, DFC; born Milton, 13 Apr 1918; agricultural
labourer; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
and Warrant Officer Hawke
Warrant Officer R. J. Hawke, DFC; born Temuka, 7 Feb 1917; meter reader; joined
RNZAFJul 1941.
formed a crew with No.
464 Australian Squadron and Flight Sergeant Morrison
Warrant Officer H. V. Morrison; born Dunedin, 11 Feb 1923; railway porter; joined
RNZAFJul 1942.
navigated
another aircraft from this unit. A two-hour flight across the North
Sea brought the force to Aarhus shortly before noon, and as they
swept in at tree-top height crews found the area covered by low
cloud. Visibility was so poor that many lights were on in the town.
The attack achieved complete surprise and it was some time before
anti-aircraft guns in the harbour area burst into life. In eleven
minutes the two buildings were destroyed, along with the Gestapo
records. Nearby barracks were also hit and more than one hundred
Germans were reported killed, among them the Gestapo chief of
Jutland. This brilliant operation was completed for the loss of one
Mosquito from No. 487 Squadron; damaged by bomb bursts, this
aircraft force-landed in Sweden but the crew were later flown back
to England. Several other aircraft were damaged by flak, and
Denton went in so low that his machine hit one of the buildings
and lost its tail wheel and the port half of the tail plane. Neverthe-
less, he flew back and landed safely.
During the final stages of the fighting to clear the Germans from
the Scheldt estuary and then from the west bank of the Meuse,
the New Zealanders flew sorties to northern Holland and to the
Ruhr. Operating singly, each crew was given a set area to patrol
some thirty miles behind the enemy front; trains were bombed and
strafed and villages used by the enemy as billeting areas and
ammunition dumps were successfully attacked. An unusual diversion
from these routine patrols was flown on 4 November when fourteen
aircraft assisted artillery observation by dropping flares in the
Moerdijk area.
During the Battle of the Ardennes night patrols by the Mosquitos
were extended to areas beyond the American front. Crews often had
to fly in appalling weather but they made repeated attacks on rail
and supply centres, including the key towns of St. Vith and
Houffalize. On most occasions results could not be observed owing
to low cloud. Early in January 1945 the squadron was grounded for
a week by heavy snowfalls and poor visibility in its patrol area, but
on the 12th fourteen Mosquitos got off to harass German troops
during their retreat. Two nights later fifteen crews returned to the
attack and reported fires and explosions after their bombing.
From mid-January No. 487 began to operate deeper into Germany
and, although there was little improvement in the weather, the
Mosquitos seized every opportunity during the following weeks to
attack enemy movement and to provide support for the British and
Canadian armies as they fought to clear their sectors of the Rhine-
land. Among the towns bombed were Geldern and Kempen – railheads on the main lines through the Rhineland – and Rheinburg,
later one of the starting points for the assault across the Rhine.
One day towards the end of February there was a mass attack
on German communications in which 143 Mosquitos from No. 2
Group took part. They found numerous targets – No. 140 Wing
alone claimed forty goods trucks destroyed and another 579
damaged; there were also many successful attacks on such targets
as locomotives, signal boxes, barges, and tugs. But twenty-one
Mosquitos failed to return and forty were damaged. The eighteen
crews from No. 487 which flew a sweep over the area of Hamburg,
Bremen, and the North Sea had their share of incident. Flying
Officer Gilbertson was attacking locomotives and tenders grouped
in one heavily defended railway centre when his aircraft was hit by
flak and an engine set on fire; but he persisted with his attack until
he and his navigator were forced by the flames and smoke to bale
out. Flight Lieutenant Dempsey's
Squadron Leader R. J. Dempsey, DFC; born Oamaru, 15 Feb 1913; school teacher;
joined RNZAFJan 1941.
Mosquito was also repeatedly
hit as he pressed home his attack. One engine was put out of action
and large holes torn in the tail plane and fuselage but he succeeded
in reaching base. Altogether five New Zealand aircraft with their
crews were lost this day, but despite these casualties squadron aircraft were again over enemy rear areas that night.
A week later No. 487 Squadron made what was as yet its deepest
penetration into Germany when twelve Mosquitos bombed rail
junctions, bridges, and trains and strafed factories and buildings
east of Cologne, with the farthest point of the patrol at Magdeburg,
60 miles west of Berlin.
No. 488 Mosquito Squadron was one of the most successful night-fighter units with Second Tactical Air Force. In the Battle of Normandy its crews had achieved the remarkable total of thirty-four
enemy aircraft destroyed by night, and a further six were to be
added to this score during the advance to the Rhine. The New
Zealanders continued to operate from bases in southern England
until mid-November when they were transferred to the Continent
and based at Amiens-Glisy. This was an old French airfield which
the Germans had greatly improved, but it had been so consistently
bombed that it now consisted largely of filled-in craters and the once
fine German hangars were completely demolished. Very little rain
was sufficient to produce vast quantities of mud, while a spell of
dry weather soon produced a fine, white dust easily disturbed by the
slipstream of a taxiing aircraft. At first, accommodation was very
limited and the squadron erected tents for dispersals and workshops
until wooden huts were available. Wing Commander R. C. Haine
continued in command until the end of November 1944 when he
handed over to Wing Commander R. G. Watts, who was to lead
the squadron for the rest of the war. Squadron Leaders F. W.
Davison and J. R. Gard'ner did good work as flight commanders
during this period.
Front-line patrols flown from Hunsdon in October were unevent-
ful, but on 4 November Warrant Officer Marshall
Flying Officer J. W. Marshall; born Auckland, 21 Apr 1920; school teacher; joined
RNZAFJan 1942.
and his navigator,
Flying Officer Prescott,
Flight Lieutenant P. F. Prescott; born Coromandel, 24 Dec 1912; accountant; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
sent a Messerschmitt 110 spiralling down to
explode 20 miles from Arnhem — this was the first of these fast twin-engined fighter-bombers destroyed by the squadron. For the following seven weeks No. 488 again flew many patrols without reward;
several contacts were obtained but they were mainly of enemy
fighters, and crews reported that these escaped by virtue of their
superior speed. It was not until 23 December, when the German
offensive through the Ardennes was a week old, that the squadron
again saw action. This was an eventful night with four enemy aircraft destroyed and another damaged. Flight Lieutenant Stewart
Flight Lieutenant K. W. Stewart, DFC; born Dunedin, 7 Oct 1915; solicitor; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
and Flying Officer Brumby
Flight Lieutenant H. E. Brumby, DFC; born Auckland, 24 Dec 1921; civil servant;
joined RNZAFOct 1942.
destroyed two Junkers 88s. On patrol
over the Roermond area, they obtained their first radar contact at a
range of four miles, whereupon as Stewart later reported:
For positive identification I closed in to below and astern with the target
weaving gently. Then the enemy suddenly fired off a red flare which
illuminated the black crosses so I dropped back to 150 yards astern and
opened fire. After my second burst the port engine caught fire and the enemy
aircraft spun down in flames exploding before it hit the ground near
Maeseyck.
Was then instructed to climb to 7,000 feet and on doing so saw further
flares. Permission was obtained to investigate but over target throttled back,
turned, climbed and straightened out before I obtained a visual at 2,000
feet, which my navigator confirmed with his night glasses as another Junkers
88. At 300 yards this aircraft also dropped reddish flares and we plainly
saw the black crosses and also the bomb racks. I closed in and gave two short
bursts which started a fire in the fuselage. The enemy bomber then did a
diving turn to starboard and when I was down to 1,000 feet he hit the ground
and exploded.
Wing Commander Watts with Flying Officer I. C. Skudder
patrolled the Nijmegen area this same night. Investigating what at
first was thought to be an Allied aircraft, Skudder confirmed through
his night glasses that it was a Junkers 188. The enemy machine peeled
off to port, releasing a bunch of coloured flares in an attempt to
deceive the Mosquito crew but Watts opened fire and, closing in,
set the fuselage ablaze. As he broke away Watts was able to watch
the Junkers spiral down and explode. Flight Lieutenants J. A. S.
Hall and J. P. Cairns, the successful British team, added to their score
by destroying a Messerschmitt 410 after a long chase which developed into a regular dogfight; eventually, however, the Messer-
schmitt's starboard engine burst into flames and it exploded in
mid-air. The fifth combat was reported by Flight Lieutenant R. G.
Jeffs who, with Flying Officer A. N. Crookes, his British navigator,
damaged a Junkers 88 near Malmedy, 20 miles south-east of Liege.
On 27 December five Mosquitos from No. 488 were ordered to
an airfield in the American sector. They took off early in the morning
and by the time they reached their destination fog had closed in.
Four crews got down safely; the last aircraft ran off the edge of
the runway and was badly damaged but fortunately the crew emerged
unhurt. This crash set in motion a train of unfortunate incidents.
One of the remaining Mosquitos, crewed by Hall and Cairns, was
‘scrambled’ for a patrol, and after a long sortie in bad visibility they
had to land at another airfield which was covered by ice. The
Mosquito skidded on the icy strip and struck a deep rut. The undercarriage collapsed and the machine was badly damaged. Meanwhile
Flight Lieutenant Stewart and Flying Officer Brumby flew a three-
hourthreehour patrol from Amiens. They sighted two Junkers 87s, but their
Mosquito was then hit by flak and had to force-land at Melsbroek.
The crew were extremely fortunate to escape injury as their aircraft
turned over on its back and broke up.
January 1945 was a most difficult month for No. 488 Squadron.
Extremely bad weather, including several heavy falls of snow at base,
reduced the time spent on operations to 175 hours - the lowest effort
for more than a year. The first victory of the New Year was delayed
until 21 February. On this day Stewart and Brumby shot down a
Junkers 88 night fighter. At the time the first radar contact was
obtained the Junkers was stalking the Mosquito under its own ground
control. The roles were quickly reversed as Stewart turned towards
the enemy and opened fire. Strikes on the fuselage and mainplane
were followed by an explosion, and shortly afterwards the German
bomber hit the ground in flames near Groenlo on the Dutch border,
20 miles north-east of Emmerich. Further successes were to follow
in March as the Allied armies prepared to cross the Rhine.
* * * * *
Throughout this period Fighter Command squadrons based in
southern England, while devoting much of their effort to the
campaign against German V-weapons, also played a part in continental operations. They escorted bombers to their targets and
provided cover and protection to troop-carrying aircraft and gliders;
many lives were also saved by the vigilance and devotion of the
air-sea rescue squadrons.
Four veteran New Zealand pilots, Wing Commanders J. M.
Checketts, Gray,
Wing Commander C. F. Gray, DSO, DFC and two bars; RAF; born Christchurch, 9
Nov 1914; joined RAFJan 1939; commanded Nos. 403, 616, 64, and 81 Sqdns, 1941–43;
Wing Leader, Malta, Sicily, and Europe, 1943–45; commanded RAF Station, Skeabrae,
1945; Directorate of Air Foreign Liaison, 1947–49; British Joint Services Mission,
Washington, 1949–52.
T. B. Fitzgerald and E. P. Wells, flew as wing
leaders with Fighter Command during this last year of the war.
Wells led Belgian and Canadian squadrons in his wing; the others
led RAF Spitfires, usually as escort to heavy bombers. Within the
fighter wings, Squadron Leader M. G. Barnett was in command of
a squadron of Tempests; Spitfires were led by Squadron Leader
Maskill
Squadron Leader I. P. J. Maskill, DFC; born Alexandra, 21 May 1920; linesman; joined
RNZAFJan 1941; commanded No. 91 Sqdn, 1945.
and Mustangs by Squadron Leaders Porteous
Squadron Leader J. K. Porteous, DFC; born Auckland, 4 Nov 1916; clerk; joined
RNZAFApr 1940; commanded No. 122 Sqdn, 1944.
and Strachan,
Squadron Leader I. D. S. Strachan; born Christchurch, 20 May 1917; joined RAF1937; commanded Nos. 284 and 65 Sqdns, 1944–45; killed on air operations, 29 Jan
1945.
who was lost whilst covering a shipping strike by Coastal Command
Beaufighters off the Norwegian coast in January 1945. Flying Officer
R. E. Lelong had a notable career with No. 605 Squadron, which
specialised in ‘intruder’ patrols deep into enemy territory. On one
such mission early in October 1944 he found thirteen Dornier flying
boats moored in Jasmunder Bay in the Baltic and destroyed at least
six of them in as many minutes, leaving the bay covered by a thick
pall of smoke. By March 1945 Lelong was credited with the destruction of at least thirteen enemy aircraft.
New Zealand airmen also continued to hold senior posts in the
Fighter Command organisation, notably Group Captain Whitley,
Group Captain E. W. Whitley, DSO, DFC; RAF; born Epsom, Auckland, 17 Aug
1908; joined RAF1930; commanded No. 245 Sqdn, 1939–40; RAF Station, Haifa, 1941;
No. 234 Wing, Middle East, 1942; Nos. 209 and 210 Groups, Middle East, 1943; Fighter
Leaders' School, 1944; No. 58 OTU 1945; RAF Station, Church Fenton, 1945.
whose long operational experience both in Europe and the Middle
East had led to command of the RAF Fighter Leaders' School.
Wing Commanders R. F. Aitken, Gawith,
Wing Commander A. A. Gawith, DFC, Bronze Star Medal (US); born Masterton,
9 May 1916; joined RAFJun 1938; transferred RNZAFJan 1944; commanded No. 1451
Flight, 1941; Staff duties, No. 9 Fighter Group, 1942; Senior Liaison Officer, 9th Air
Defence Command, USAAF, 1944; commanded RAF Station, Cleave, 1944–45.
Kain,
Wing Commander D. Kain; born Wanganui, 16 Oct 1915; joined RAF1935; transferred
RNZAFOct 1944; commanded No. 64 Sqdn, 1941; No. 229 Sqdn, Middle East and
Malta, 1942, and No. 127 Sqdn, Middle East, 1943; RAF Station, Edcu, 1943–44;
and RAF Station, Predannack, 1944–45.
C. E. Malfroy,
and Mowat
Wing Commander N. J. Mowat, DSO; born Oamaru, 18 Sep 1914; joined RAF Mar
1939; transferred RNZAFJan 1945; commanded No. 607 Sqdn, 1941–42; No. 166 Wing,
India, 1942–43; held various appointments India and ACSEA, 1943–44; commanded
RAF Station, Peterhead, 1944–45; killed in flying accident, 7 Nov 1946.
were in charge of fighter airfields and various operational staff posts were held by Wing Commanders R. W. Baker,
J. S. McLean, and Rose.
Wing Commander A. H. Rose; born Wellington, 10 Sep 1905; joined RAFApr 1940.
CHAPTER 13
Transport and Special Duties
‘The great advances,’ writes General Eisenhower, ‘had the effect
of multiplying many of the administrative and maintenance
problems with which we constantly had to wrestle. Again a tremendous strain was placed upon our supply lines. Distance alone would
have been enough to stop our spearheads had we been dependent
solely on surface transport, efficient as it was. Distant and fast-moving columns were sometimes almost entirely dependent upon air
supply, and during April we kept 1500 planes constantly working
in our supply system. They became known as “flying box cars” and
were never more essential than in these concluding stages of the
war …. During that month the air forces delivered to the
front lines 60,000 tons of freight, in which was included 10,000,000
gallons of petrol.’
In this passage the Supreme Commander describes one of the ways
in which the men of the Allied transport squadrons assisted in the
achievement of final victory. Equally important was their contribution
in other directions. On the British side RAF Transport Command
acted as carrier for all three services, providing a world-wide
organisation with more than 130 stations and staging posts in
various Allied territories to control and service aircraft and to handle
freight and passengers; by 1944 its scheduled services were operating
over 100,000 miles of regular routes, stretching as far afield as North
Africa, Egypt, Iraq, India, and Australia, as well as across the North
and South Atlantic and to West Africa. In addition, its crews ferried
many thousands of aircraft from Britain or trans-Atlantic bases to
the various theatres of war; the North Atlantic crossing, which
only a few years earlier was regarded as a hazardous venture, became
a matter of routine and by the end of the war 27,000 machines had
made the passage. In support of the armies and air forces transport
aircraft maintained a continual flow of supplies and reinforcements
and on several notable occasions carried troops and their equipment
into actual battle. They also delivered mail and evacuated casualties
from forward areas – in the first six months of the European
campaign alone 50,000 casualties, over three-quarters of them
stretcher cases, were flown back to England without a single mishap.
Pioneering efforts in the Middle East and over the North Atlantic
had provided much of the knowledge and experience upon which
these achievements were based. The vast organisation of RAF
Transport Command was a late development. During the first three
and a half years of the war British air transport had been conducted
by a rather unusual variety of bodies which, acutely short of aircraft,
had to maintain themselves as best they could by successful impro
visation. It was not until March 1943 that, with the rapidly increas
ing demands for air transport, a separate RAF command was formed
to co-ordinate and expand the various existing services.
Led by Air Chief Marshal Sir Frederick Bowhill,
Air Chief Marshal Sir Frederick Bowhill, GBE, KCB, CMG, DSO, Order of St. Vladimir
(Rus.), Order of St. Saveur (Gr.), Order of Orange Nassau (Hol.), Legion of Merit
(US), Order of St. Olav (Nor.), Order of Polonia Restituta (Pol.), RAF (retd); born
Morar, India, 1 Sep 1880; joined RN 1913; seconded RNAS 1914 and RAF1918;
permanent commission RAF1919; AOC-in-C Coastal Command, 1937–41; AOC-in-C,
RAF Ferry Command, 1941–43; AOC-in-C, RAF Transport Command, 1943–45.
the new
command was made up of No. 44 Group, operating from the United
Kingdom, and No. 45 (previously Ferry Command) in Canada with
its two wings, one operating over the North Atlantic and the other
over the South; there was also No. 216 Wing in the Middle East
and No. 179 Wing in India.
The work of the transport wings in the Middle and Far East will be described in Volume
III.
Expansion began at once and by 1945
two new groups had been added to those in Britain. One of them,
No. 46 Group, was to do splendid work in support of the British
air and ground forces; it also undertook parachute dropping, glider
towing and airborne supply, thus reinforcing AEAF's No. 38 Group,
which was primarily responsible for these important duties.
More than 500 New Zealanders were to serve with these various
formations during the last two years of the war. The majority flew
as pilots, navigators, and wireless operators, but men with long
operational experience were also concerned in the work of planning,
control, training, and administration with Transport Command. As
Senior Air Staff Officer at No. 46 Group, Group Captain Nicholls
Group Captain C. W. K. Nicholls, DSO, OBE; RAF; born Palmerston North, 7 Oct
1918; joined RAF1934; test pilot, Aeronautical and Armament Experimental Establishment, 1940–41; commanded Handling Sqdn, Empire Central Flying School, Hullavington, 1942–43; commanded Operational Training Wing, Ohakea, 1943–44; NZ Fighter
Wing, Bougainville, 1944; SASO Northern Group, 1944; SASO No. 46 Group, Transport
Command, 1945–46; commanded No. 24 Commonwealth Sqdn, 1946–48; Air Attache,
Nanking, 1948–49.
planned many of the transport operations during the last stages of
the campaign in Europe. Wing Commander Joel
Wing Commander L. J. Joel, DFC; RAF; born Dunedin, 3 Jan 1917; joined RAF Aug
1938; commanded No. 55 Sqdn, Middle East, 1943–44; Operations staff, No. 38 Group,
1944–45.
served on the staff
of No. 38 Group, where he was specially concerned with the Special
Air Service operations which dropped agents and saboteurs in
Europe. Joel had already completed three tours of operations in the
Middle East. Wing Commander McHardy
Wing Commander E. H. McHardy, DSO, DFC and bar, Croix de Guerre (Fr.); RAF;
born Palmerston, 24 Jun 1920; joined RAFMay 1939; commanded No. 404 Sqdn 1942;
No. 143 Sqdn, 1943–44.
and Squadron Leader
Clark
Squadron Leader L. E. Clark, DFC; born Christchurch, 16 Aug 1906; joined RAFNov 1939; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
were among those who held senior posts in the Atlantic ferry
service. McHardy set up the RAF staging post at Para Belem in
Brazil and was subsequently in charge of the Liberator unit which,
operating from Florida and Nassau, carried urgent supplies across
the South Atlantic and brought back ferry crews. Clark was
prominent in the organisation for delivering sea planes; in 1943
he was senior control officer at Darrell's Island, Bermuda, and was
later in charge of despatch and control at Lake Gander. Squadron
Leader Thomson
Wing Commander C. W. H. Thomson; RAF; born Stratford, 21 Sep 1914; joined RAF1939; attached BOAC 1941–42; Staff Navigator RAF Ferry Command, 1942–43;
Staff Navigator No. 116 Wing, Transport Command, 1944–45.
served with an overseas despatch unit in the south
of England which handled reinforcement and ferry aircraft destined
for the Middle and Far East; in July 1943 he was co-pilot in the
Dakota which made history by towing a Hadrian glider laden with
urgent supplies across the North Atlantic.
Navigation duties were carried out by Squadron Leader Austin
Squadron Leader W. S. Austin, DFC; born Greymouth, 14 Jul 1915; law clerk; joined
RNZAFNov 1939.
whose varied career included two tours of bomber operations and
service in England, India, Malta, and the Middle East. Squadron
Leaders Scott
Wing Commander R. C. E. Scott, AFC and bar; RAF; born Wellington, 11 Jan 1918;
joined RAFJan 1940; commanded No. 1517 BATF, 1942–44; duties with Directorate
of Operational Training, 1944–46; commanded the King's Flight, 1950–53; Air Attaché,
Berne, 1953–
and Julian
Squadron Leader J. T. Julian; born Auckland, 20 Apr 1909; builder and contractor;
joined RAFNov 1939; transferred RNZAFMay 1945.
were among those who trained transport
crews for their duties, while Squadron Leader Lewis,
Squadron Leader R. E. Lewis, DFC; born Wellington, 3 Dec 1916; joined RAFApr 1939.
who had won
distinction in early bomber operations, was in charge of a large
staging post on the Continent. An important contribution to the
development of troop-carrying operations was made by Flight
Lieutenant R. W. H. Carter. As a test pilot he was the first to fly
a Whitley aircraft towing a Horsa glider. After taking part in all
trials of this combination, he subsequently made the first flight trials
of the Hamilcar, using Halifax and Stirling bombers as the tug
aircraft.
The work of the transport crews was varied, often quite eventful,
and sometimes extremely hazardous. Those who flew with the
squadrons of No. 44 Group had the least interesting role, their
main task being the maintenance of regular military services carrying passengers, mails, and freight over the scheduled routes. Both
by day and night they flew their Dakotas, Liberators, and Yorks
along between the staging posts which formed the beads on the
long string of communications around the world. At each post
RAF ground staff were ready to refuel and service their machines,
whether it be in the sweltering heat of Bahrein or the bitter cold
of Goose Bay – a monotonous role but they served the aircrews well.
In addition to these regular services, there were the VIP flights
which carried Allied military and political leaders on their missions,
and occasionally special operations such as the movement of Bomber
Command personnel and equipment to Archangel in September
1944 for the attack on the German battleship Tirpitz.
New Zealanders were particularly prominent in these duties with
No. 511 Squadron, which flew from Lyneham in Wiltshire, and with
No. 24 Squadron at Hendon, near London; Squadron Leader
Donald
Squadron Leader G. V. Donald, AFC; born Masterton, 4 Jan 1919; joined RAF Jun
1939; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
and Flight Lieutenant Drew
Flight Lieutenant A. S. Drew, DFC, AFC; born Auckland, 27 Jun 1914; linotype
operator; joined RNZAFNov 1940.
both won special commendation for their work with these units. By May 1945 the crews of
No. 511 Squadron had flown more than twelve million miles,
carried 24,700 passengers and over 7000 tons of mail and freight.
The record of No. 24 Squadron was equally notable, among its
highlights being the carriage of King George VI on a tour of the
Middle East and the British Prime Minister and his staff to several
conferences. It is of interest to add that two years after the war
this unit was renamed No. 24 Commonwealth Squadron, with
representative crews from Britain, Canada, Australia, South Africa
and New Zealand, and was employed primarily on special flights
carrying statesmen and military leaders. A New Zealand airman,
Group Captain Nicholls, then had the distinction of being its first
commanding officer.
The ferrying of reinforcement and replacement aircraft from the
United Kingdom to distant theatres of war was another task shared
by New Zealand aircrew with No. 44 Group. Many of them were
based at Pershore airfield, in Worcestershire, from where they flew
machines to the Middle East, India, and beyond; returning by air,
they were often able to make three or four such flights a month.
But before this routine was established some men had remarkable
experiences. On one delivery flight to the Middle East, Flying
Officer Penman
Flight Lieutenant F. S. Penman; born Dunedin, 10 Mar 1919; salesman; joined RNZAFFeb 1941; p.w. 12 Sep 1942.
lost three aircraft at Malta through enemy bombing
and was later forced down in the desert; whilst returning to England
by sea his ship was torpedoed at night; after twelve hours in the
water he was picked up by a German U-boat, but almost immediately
this vessel was attacked and sunk by an Allied aircraft; Penman was
then rescued by an Italian submarine and finally reached a prisoner-
of-war camp.
With No. 45 Group the chief duty was the delivery of new aircraft and the carriage of passengers and freight across the Atlantic.
By 1943 flights across this vast ocean had become more or less
routine and many crews could, with real feeling, echo the words
of an early Coastal Command song: ‘We've flown the North Atlantic
in blinding rain and blinding sleet, We've flown that blooming
ocean until it made us almost weep.’ Dorval airfield, near Montreal,
was the main starting point for the Atlantic ferry, and it was here
that machines received from the factories of North America and the
Far West were tested and modified in preparation for their ocean
flight. There were two main routes across the Atlantic – the northern
to Prestwick in Scotland, which had been pioneered by RAF and
civilian pilots in the early days, and the southern to Africa, which
had been opened at the end of 1942. Over the northern route heavy
bombers often flew direct to Britain, calling possibly at Gander,
Newfoundland, or at a base in the Azores, which had been acquired
by agreement with the Portuguese Government at the end of 1943.
Light bombers, including Canadian-built Mosquitos and other
machines of limited range, usually flew by stages via Greenland and
Iceland.
On this North Atlantic passage crews experienced some of the
most hazardous flying in the world, especially during the winter
months when airfields were covered with snow and there were
frequent storms with low cloud over the ocean and fog banks off
Newfoundland. The worst part of the flight often came as aircraft
approached the ‘point of no return’ – a technical term which every
trans-oceanic flier knew well – for it meant the position from which
there would not be enough fuel for the machine to turn back to
base in case of trouble.
The South Atlantic route over which many aircraft were delivered
to the Middle East was more congenial; it took crews through such
exotic places as Nassau in the Bahamas, the island of Trinidad, and
Para Belem, to the sandy airfield set amid scrub near Natal, on the
extreme eastern coastline of Brazil. From there they flew 1400 miles
across the ocean to that small isolated speck of land known as
Ascension Island where, during 1942, American engineers had
blasted away huge quantities of lava rock to construct a runway
capable of receiving the largest aircraft. From Ascension, the flight
continued to Accra on the Gold Coast, where machines were usually
handed over for delivery to Cairo by way of the well-established
route through Kano in Nigeria. One New Zealander, who spent
several years on the South Atlantic Ferry, gives this account of his
work:
A delivery on the southern route usually meant landing to refuel about
every seven hours, although on some occasions we made flights of up to ten.
Thanks to the existence of Ascension Island we had a comfortable margin
for the Atlantic flight plan. Radio played an important part on the crossing
and, although the facilities we had appear meagre in the light of post-war
developments, they were a major guide to navigation and the means of
saving both planes and crews. When Africa-bound we usually experienced
headwinds and quite often had to fly against gales up to 60 knots; the
weather between Brazil and Ascension was usually moderate but between
the Island and Africa we frequently encountered violent tropical disturbances
and at other times had to fly above sand storms hundreds of miles out to
sea, but the small R.A.F. unit at Ascension did a remarkable job of charting
the weather for us on this leg of the flight.
On all our delivery flights we carried a cargo of vital war equipment;
sometimes we would be briefed to land at an airport in Florida to load up
with supplies destined for the Eighth Army. On such occasions we flew
Dakota transports which carried the maximum of 30,000 lb. of freight
lashed in at the point of balance. Flying these transports on the southern
route was a comparatively simple matter, since the Douglas craft had ample
fuel tanks for long flights and were aero-dynamically most suited for hauling
loads in any type of weather. But I remember one occasion during a flight
from Trinidad to Natal when we encountered a violent storm over Dutch
Guiana; thunder clouds reared up and we were unable to break through the
tops, so we had to fly on for several hours amid a frightening display of
electronics in what seemed a hell of darkness and with the transport swaying
wildly to and fro, one moment careering upwards and the next second
bouncing crazily down. I think that such storms which accompanied Brazil's
frequent rainy season deluges accounted for most of the losses on this route.
With the Atlantic Ferry, Squadron Leader Adams
Wing Commander J. Adams, DFC, AFC; born Christchurch, 31 Aug 1913; joined RAF1937; transferred RNZAFJun 1939; commanded No. 5 BATF 1941; CO No. 40 Sqdn,
RNZAF, 1943–44.
led the first
group of Marauders through to the Middle East via the South
Atlantic route. Flying Officer Thorburn
Flight Lieutenant R. H. Thorburn; born Palmerston North, 26 May 1920; carpenter;
joined RNZAFJan 1941.
flew regularly over the
South Atlantic. In May 1944 he was radio officer in a Baltimore
engaged on a special mission. As it approached the Trinidad coast
the aircraft exploded in mid-air and fell into the sea. Thorburn, who
was badly burned, was fortunate to be picked up by an American
merchantman. Other airmen with long service on the Atlantic Ferry
were Squadron Leader A. W. Mack, who had previously flown on
both bomber and fighter operations, and Flight Lieutenants Irwin
Flight Lieutenant K. Irwin; born Te Kopuru, 7 Sep 1920; farmer; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
and Webb
Flight Lieutenant R. P. Webb, AFC; born Taihape, 2 Dec 1920; labourer; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
who flew consistently from mid-1942.
Flight Lieutenants Henderson
Flight Lieutenant J. A. Henderson; born Oamaru, 31 Mar 1909; surveyor; joined
RNZAFFeb 1941.
and Clarke,
Flight Lieutenant W. P. N. Clarke, AFC; born Dunedin, 5 Nov 1921; farmhand; joined
RNZAFSep 1941.
who also saw early
service on the Atlantic route, were among the pioneers of the
Pacific route from Canada to Australia. Aircraft on this run took
off from Dorval, crossed North America to San Francisco, and then
flew to Sydney via Honolulu, Canton, Fiji and Auckland, a total of
11,520 miles. Henderson was navigator in the aircraft which made
a survey of this route and was prominent in the organisation of the
flight, while Clarke flew as a pilot on this route from the time it
was opened.
Transport and supply missions in support of Allied operations on
the Continent were the main tasks for the aircrews with Nos. 38
and 46 Groups. These were the units which, along with various other
duties, carried the men of the British airborne divisions – ‘The Red
Berets’ – to Normandy, Arnhem, and across the Rhine; they also
evacuated thousands of casualties from the front line and then flew
them back across the Channel to England. No. 38 Group was the
pioneer formation; it had begun in 1940 as a small unit equipped
with six Whitley aircraft discarded by Bomber Command, and
during the early years its crews had been mainly employed in
exercises with British paratroop regiments and in dropping saboteurs
and supplies over Europe. The airborne invasion of Sicily in 1943
gave No. 38 Group its first major task, and the experience gained
in this and other transport operations in the Middle East was used
to train additional crews and those of No. 46 Group which was
formed in Britain early in 1944.
More than 150 New Zealanders, nearly half of them pilots, served
with these formations during the final campaign in Europe. Squadron
Leader Daniell,
Squadron Leader R. D. Daniell, DFC, AFC, Flying Cross (Hol.); born Hamilton, 29
Oct 1920; joined RNZAFDec 1939; transferred RAFJun 1940; re-transferred RNZAFJun 1945.
who flew Dakotas, Squadron Leader D. S. Gibb,
who captained Stirlings, and Squadron Leader Jamieson,
Squadron Leader R. W. Jamieson, DFC; born Nelson, 4 Nov 1917; joined RAF1937.
who flew
Albemarles, were to achieve a particularly fine record in troop-carrying and supply missions. All three men were veterans of the
earlier campaigns. Gibb had completed two tours with Bomber
Command, Jamieson had taken part in the airborne invasion of
Sicily, while Daniell had seen service as a transport pilot in the
Middle East from the early days of the Takoradi air route, during
the siege of Malta, throughout the desert campaigns and in Sicily
and Italy. Flying Officers Siegert
Flight Lieutenant C. L. Siegert, DFC; born Fairlie, 14 Mar 1923; clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1942.
and Sutherland
Flying Officer N. W. Sutherland, DFC; born Palmerston, 31 Dec 1920; student; joined
RNZAFApr 1942.
were also to
distinguish themselves as captains of aircraft, while Flight Lieutenant Reevely
Flight Lieutenant W. D. Reevely, DFC; born Auckland, 20 Feb 1918; traveller; joined
RNZAFJun 1940.
gave valuable service as a gunnery leader. Flight
Sergeants Bretherton,
Flight Lieutenant B. J. F. Bretherton, DFC; born Cromwell, 27 Dec 1920; radio mechanic;
joined RNZAFDec 1939.
Fulker,
Flying Officer L. Fulker, DFC; born Sydney, 31 May 1921; labourer; joined RNZAFApr 1941; killed on air operations, 12 Sep 1944.
Brydon
Flying Officer S. L. Brydon; born Maromaku, 12 Jan 1918; farmhand; joined RNZAFJan 1941.
and Nicholls,
Flying Officer J. A. P. Nicholls; born Martinborough, 13 Mar 1920; radio serviceman;
joined RNZAFJun 1941; killed in aircraft accident, 16 Apr 1945.
all of whom
had taken part in the invasion of Sicily, continued to do good work
with troop-carrying and supply squadrons. Several pilots, notably
Flight Lieutenant Buchanan,
Flight Lieutenant E. K. Buchanan, AFC; born Auckland, 6 Oct 1920; civil engineer;
joined RNZAFOct 1941.
were to be commended for their part
in the Air Despatch Letter Service which, operating in all weathers,
delivered important despatches and mail to commands in the field.
The part played by the aircrews of Nos. 38 and 46 Groups in
support of the British airborne divisions is of particular interest. In
the opening stages of the Normandy invasion two separate missions
were flown to enable 6 Airborne Division to capture and hold vital
areas on the left flank of the bridgehead. The first took place during
the night preceding the seaborne landings; it involved 294 aircraft
and 98 glider combinations carrying first pathfinders, then the main
body of paratroops, and finally men and equipment in gliders. To
deceive the enemy as to their real purpose, many of the aircraft
carried bombs with which they went on to attack targets further
inland. On the whole the navigation was remarkably accurate and,
although a high wind tended to scatter the parachutists, most of
the principal objectives were achieved. Altogether 4310 parachutists
were dropped that night and 493 glider troops successfully landed
together with 17 guns, 44 jeeps, and 55 motor cycles. Seven aircraft
and twenty-two gliders were lost, most of the latter through broken
tow ropes or through being cast off too soon. One important lesson
learned this night and applied in future operations was the
importance of pilots maintaining a steady course when approaching
the dropping zone in the face of anti-aircraft fire; it was found that
‘jinking’ threw many of the parachute troops off balance at the
critical moment when the red light had been switched on and they
were preparing to jump.
During the evening of D Day itself Halifaxes, Stirlings, and
Dakotas towed 256 gliders bearing reinforcements and further
supplies to General Gale's 6 Airborne Division. This second operation proved highly successful, all but a few of the gliders reaching
their destination. Squadron Leader Daniell, who flew a Dakota with
No. 48 Squadron, afterwards related:
The main glider force took off at 4 p.m. on D-Day and we were glad of
the opportunity to fly over the beachhead in daylight. We had our final
briefing and the weather seemed more favourable. Out on the runway we
checked our aircraft, chatted with the glider pilots and the men who were
going along to keep a field-gun company – eighteen of them were in my
glider. Incidentally the total load carried in each of these Horsa gliders was
nearly 3 ½ tons.
We took off across a very stiff breeze which caused some anxious moments
as the combination took the air. In taking off in these heavily loaded gliders
the unusual feature is the slowness with which one gains flying speed. The
runway flashes by under the wheels and its end, over a mile away, is almost
reached before the whole contraption is in the air still clambering for more
speed. From that moment onwards, both for the tug and the glider pilot, the
actual control of their aircraft is a full time job of manual labour. Constantly
buffeted by the slipstream of the aircraft in front the ‘combinations’ battle
along in pairs which form a great stream. Ground speed in a head wind may
fall to 80 m.p.h. and the usually accepted evasive tactics to A.A. fire are
virtually impossible.
However, as we jostled about on this evening of D-Day, we knew that
many fighter squadrons would escort us and that others would be attacking
enemy fighter airfields in France ahead of us. After nearly two hours over
England we crossed the south coast in a great procession nearly eighty miles
long; I think we were about half way down the ‘stream’. Le Havre came in
sight and I marvelled that it was possible to fly over the French coast without defensive armament at less than one hundred miles an hour. Soon the
beaches of Normandy were in sight with the greatest array of ships I had
ever seen; some unloading on to the beaches, some of them waiting off-shore
and others still miles out to sea. The mouth of the River Orne where we
were to cross the coast now came into sight below the battle haze and smoke.
The sun was fairly low in the sky but it was not difficult to identify the
landing zone which the gliders were to use. However, as aircraft jostled for
position, the cumulative effect of slipstreams made things difficult since every
pilot was letting down to the correct dropping height of 12,000 feet. A few
miles inland towards Caen I called my glider pilot. “Thirty seconds to go to
release point ‘matchbox’ – Good luck.” He came back ‘Thank you, tug –
cheerio.’ A few moments later I felt my aircraft surge forward as he cast off.
In front we could see hundreds of gliders wheeling in free flight and
preparing to land. Several crashed into each other as they ran along the
ground like great beetles. Two spilled open and shot out their contents.
Several caught fire and others struck mines. Little puffs of smoke mushroomed
up as enemy mortar shells found their mark.
Turning away we caught a glimpse of the great battle going on at the outskirts of Caen. Odd bursts of enemy anti-aircraft fire were now finding their
mark. One of our flight just behind was set on fire. Two figures left by
parachute and landed in the River Orne while the burning machine with the
pilot still at the controls turned and eventually belly landed near the gliders.
As I flew low out over the sea there was a Stirling and two gliders in the
‘drink’. Back at base we learnt that the glider landing had been judged a
great success.
One New Zealand wireless operator, Flight Sergeant Burgess,
Flight Sergeant N. P. Burgess; born Christchurch, 11 Oct 1918; clerk; joined FAA
Apr 1941; transferred RAFDec 1941; RNZAFOct 1943.
who flew to Normandy on the evening of D Day, shared with his
crew in an amazing series of adventures which culminated two days
later with their hailing a surprised British soldier near Caen with the
news that they had sixty prisoners for him. Over France the RAF
men had just released their glider when their Stirling was hit by
flak and set on fire, forcing them to crash-land behind the German
lines. All the crew managed to scramble uninjured from the blazing
bomber but almost at once found themselves covered by German
tommy guns. The prisoners were marched along with a retreating
enemy detachment until dawn the following morning when, finding
themselves in no-man's-land, the whole party took cover in a bombed
chateau. The day passed with British and German shells whizzing
overhead and the prisoners witnessed an aerial battle in which Spitfires sent a formation of Ju88s crashing in flames. During the afternoon British mortars began to get the chateau's range, whereupon the
Germans and their prisoners – now more or less on even terms –
moved first into a slit-trench and later to a cellar. Then, after a night
of more shelling and bombardment, the German commander asked
that he and his men be taken prisoners, so Burgess and his navigator
set off in search of British troops. Having made contact, the airmen
lined up the Germans and marched them to a brigade headquarters
where they were handed over. Then after a few hours in the trenches
the airmen obtained a captured German staff car and motored to the
beach, where they found a ship about to return across the Channel.
September 1944 brought the epic of Arnhem. Here, during the
audacious attempt to seize the last bridge that would put
Montgomery's armies across the Lower Rhine, the aircrews of Nos.
38 and 46 Groups made a determined and courageous effort in
support of 1 Airborne Division. Altogether they flew nine separate
missions – three carrying the assault troops and their equipment
and then, in the face of bitter opposition, six more with ammunition
and supplies. During these operations the two groups lost 326 men,
together with 52 aircraft and 19 gliders, most of them during the
later stages of the battle when there occurred more than one example
of what the tough and hardened warriors on the ground were moved
to call ‘the extreme of heroism.’
The first operation, in which 358 aircraft towed gliders, was
highly successful in that the troops were landed in adequate numbers
on their selected zones and were able to capture their initial
objectives. On the second day, however, things began to go wrong.
The airlift that morning was delayed for five hours by fog and low
cloud over airfields in Britain and by the time it arrived the situation
in and around Arnhem had seriously deteriorated. It was unfortunate
that the RAF had insufficient transport aircraft available to take the
whole of the division to its destination in one lift. On top of this
the nature of the terrain at Arnhem had led to the choice of landing
zones between two and eight miles from the river bridge, which
was the main objective.
Further misfortunes occurred on the third day. The most serious
was the failure of communications – in particular, a vital message
reporting that the Germans still held the zone on which supplies
were to be dropped from the air did not get through. As a result
the 180 aircraft which carried out the first resupply mission released
their cargoes, not on the airborne troops, but on their enemies.
Worse still, to reach the appointed zone, the Stirlings and unarmed
Dakotas had to fly low in the face of sharp and accurate anti-aircraft
fire. Thirteen were shot down and ninety-seven more returned badly
damaged.
‘Arnhem, 19th September, 1630 hours,’ runs the war diary of 1
Airborne Division. ‘Resupply dropped on prearranged Supply
Dropping Point V which was in enemy hands. Yellow smoke,
yellow triangles and every conceivable means were used to attract
attention of pilots and get them to drop supplies within our lines;
this had very limited success.’ It had, indeed. The weather was misty,
but the arranged dropping point could be seen and the pilots had
eyes for nothing else. ‘My most poignant memory,’ writes Lieutenant-Colonel Packe, of the Royal Army Service Corps, ‘will always be the
time I spent watching the supply aircraft coming over and dropping
their containers on an area not under our control …. They were
met by a screen of flak, and it was awe-inspiring to see them fly
straight into it, straight into a flaming hell. We thought that some
would not face it and would jettison their cargoes, in which case
we should get them, for they would fall short and therefore in our
lines; but they all stuck to their course and went on, nor did they
hesitate. A Stirling and a Dakota were seen that day, both on fire,
circling round the zone. They were doomed and their pilots knew it,
but they might still drop their supplies on the right spot. To do so
immediately, however, might interfere with those more fortunate
than themselves who were timed to arrive a moment or two before
them. So they held off, awaiting their turn. It came, and they went
in, blazing, to release the containers; before they fell “like two
torches from the sky”, they had done all in their power to ensure
success.’
On the following days despite mounting casualties the supply
squadrons continued their gallant but, in the circumstances, far from
fruitful efforts since less than one-tenth of the total tonnage dropped
was collected by the beleaguered division. On the fifth day, when
part of their fighter escort was grounded by bad weather, crews had
to contend with enemy fighter attacks as well as intense anti-aircraft
fire, and out of 117 Stirlings and Dakotas despatched 23 were shot
down and a further 38 damaged. Flying Officer Siegert and his crew
had an eventful flight that day. They were chased by several Focke-Wulfs and, after shooting one down, managed to shake off the rest
by a violent high-speed dive. Others were less fortunate. While
approaching Arnhem the Stirling captained by Flying Officer
Bebarfald
Flying Officer B. A. Bebarfald; born Nelson, 8 Jul 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1941;
killed on air operations, 21 Sep 1944.
was badly hit by flak but flew on to the dropping zone.
Containers and panniers had just been released when Messerschmitts
attacked, setting the bomber on fire. As it began to disintegrate in
the air Bebarfald gave the order to bale out but, in spite of his efforts
at the controls, there was only time for two of his crew to escape
before the machine went down.
‘Our Squadrons were badly mauled that day,’ writes a New Zealand
Dakota captain. ‘As we sighted Arnhem some four engined Stirlings were
just finishing their supply drop. All hell seemed to have been let loose. The
sky was black with flak bursts over the army lads. As we approached, two
Stirlings blew up with a terrific flash and the picture looked far from rosy.
We were at 3,500 feet and had to get down to 1,200 feet before releasing
the panniers at 110 m.p.h. There seemed to be hundreds of gun flashes from
the ground. To complicate things, the three aircraft in front were dropping
higher than I was so that panniers dangling from parachutes were filling the
air all around, a grave menace if a wing should foul them. Somehow we
jockeyed across. As soon as the word was passed that the supplies were gone,
I turned the wick up to full power and climbed faster than a lift taking
evasive action all the time till the thumps, twangs and bursting shells were
far behind.’
‘Like everyone else, I suppose, I made a hasty check of engine instruments.
They seemed O.K. and I turned to watch the following aircraft go through.
The C.O. had turned and run back across the dropping zone to rid the aircraft
of a few baskets not dropped on the first run. As he crossed the river, I could
see a pannier trailing from behind his tail. I turned to go and inspect when
it suddenly broke away and fell to the ground but no parachute appeared.
There was a despatcher, R.A.S.C. private, clinging to it as it went. His
harness had been caught up and he had been dragged from the aircraft
without his parachute pack. These R.A.S.C. men did a grand job. Most of
them had only had an hour or two in the air before being called upon for
these supply operations.’
‘Our troubles were not yet over. A few minutes after leaving Arnhem
dozens of Hun fighters appeared up to twenty at one time attacking a
Dakota. Soon some Spitfires appeared and began to mix it but Dakota after
Dakota was going down – my No. 2 in formation had not been able to keep
station with me and was one of the first victims. When the air fighting
started, I made myself scarce among fluffy cloud which half filled the sky
at six thousand feet. The transports struggled to out manoeuvre the fighters.
One survived six attacks without any return fire before he crash-landed in
flames. It was so hot inside that the pilot opened the hatch above his head,
stood up in the cockpit and landed it leaning out the top.’
Such were some of the hazards encountered by the aircrews in
their efforts to aid the men on the ground. Yet, despite all their
courage and resolution, the battle had already been lost. The
Germans, recovering from their initial shock, had reacted quickly
and the men of 1 Airborne Division, denied adequate supplies from
the air and with Montgomery's columns unable to break through
to their relief, were confined and besieged within a rapidly shrinking perimeter. The end came after nine days' bitter fighting when
the remnants of the division straggled back across the river, leaving
some 7500 of their comrades either killed or captured.
The airborne operation across the Rhine in March 1945 was in
striking contrast. ‘It was more like an exercise,’ writes one New
Zealand squadron leader whose Halifax towed a glider containing
men of 6 Airborne Division. ‘For most of the time we were over our
own territory then, during the short flight over the German lines we
had terrific fighter cover; we experienced comparatively little flak.’
Altogether fifty-five New Zealanders, twenty-three of them captains,
were among the crews of 440 aircraft which towed gliders across
the Rhine. The flight from England was made under almost perfect
conditions, but in the actual landing area crews found much smoke
and dust – some of it had drifted across after the bombing of Wesel.
Nevertheless, the landing of the gliders, the majority now flown by
RAF pilots, was exceedingly accurate, some touching down within
fifty yards of their target. Anti-aircraft fire accounted for ten of the
gliders and damaged others, but within a matter of hours the
division had captured all its objectives, and by the following morning
a firm link had been established with the British Army on the
ground.
One of the main reasons for the success was the fact that 6 Airborne Division had been carried to its destination in one lift, to
achieve which Nos. 38 and 46 Groups had made a supreme effort
employing every available aircraft and crew. On top of this was
the arrangement whereby the airborne supplies were dropped not
twenty-four hours after the landing but the same evening; finally,
plans had been made for a rapid link-up with the army on the
ground. The lessons of Arnhem had been well learnt.
These airborne operations, spectacular though they were, formed
but one of the many tasks undertaken by the aircrews of No. 38
and 46 Groups during the campaign in Europe. From D Day
onwards Dakotas of No. 46 Group operated intensively to carry
supplies to the Continent and bring back casualties. Among the first
Dakotas to land in Normandy were those piloted by Flight Lieutenant H. J. Barley and Warrant Officer Chesney
Flying Officer R. Chesney; born Timaru, 1 Apr 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFJul 1941.
of No. 233
Squadron; on the outward trip they carried advance personnel and
freight for a wing of Second Tactical Air Force and each brought
back fourteen wounded. ‘Some of the men were severely injured,’
writes Chesney, ‘and although we were flying low they required the
aid of oxygen. On this and other similar flights we invariably did
our best to make the wounded men comfortable.’
In their first fortnight's operations to Normandy aircraft of No.
46 Group carried over 250 tons of freight, four tons of mail, and
5500 passengers, all without loss. Some of the early missions were
quite eventful. On 17 June Dakotas of No. 512 Squadron, landing
at a dusty strip close to the front line, came under enemy fire. ‘We
left the strip immediately on landing,’ says Flight Sergeant Garvin,
Flying Officer W. B. Garvin; born Auckland, 11 May 1918; taxi driver; joined RNZAFMay 1942.
‘then taxied behind woods which ran parallel with the landing strip,
thus gaining slight cover. After embarking casualties we were able
to regain access to the strip through a small opening in the trees
whereupon we took off smartly between bursts of fire.’ On another
occasion crews who landed at an advanced strip were ‘surprised at
the apparent lack of welcome until they observed helmets peering
over the top of slit-trenches; shell bursts at the end of the runway
soon convinced all and sundry that this could not possibly be the
right place, so with one accord they took to the air once more and
hastened with all speed to another landing ground.’
During the rapid advance across France and into Belgium when
both armies and air forces outstripped their supplies, transport
squadrons operated non-stop shuttle services from England carrying
petrol, ammunition of all kinds, food, clothing, and other urgent
supplies. One airfield in Belgium was taken over by a wing of
Transport Command two days after its capture and the following
day was in full operation. In one month 3438 aircraft landed from
the United Kingdom, more than 7000 tons of freight were handled,
4280 passengers were received or despatched, and 7200 casualties
evacuated to England, many of them brought to the airfield by air
from front-line landing strips. A New Zealand flight commander
whose squadron took a prominent part in these supply operations
records that:
Between four and five hundred Dakotas a day were employed in flying
supplies into the depots at Brussels. Their cargoes were chiefly aviation and
motor petrol but most kinds of ordnance stores were carried including tons
of winter clothing to aerodromes all round the European theatre.
Aero engines, tank engines, personnel were flown into the area in an endless stream. Thousands of B.L.A. men and women going on leave were flown
back to aerodromes around London. This business became a dull routine
except for the vagaries of the English and Continental weather, which at
times taxed our skill to the utmost. All pilots were graded into First, Second
and Third class categories. Captains in the first grade were expected to fly in
any weather on their own initiative. In this way it was hoped that really
urgent supplies would always be delivered. Radar aids in our aircraft made
all the difference between success and failure.
Meanwhile, in addition to supplying the armed forces, the transport aircraft also carried medical equipment, food, clothing, and
Red Cross supplies of all kinds to the liberated cities of France,
Holland, and Belgium. In one day No. 46 Group alone carried 167
tons of goods to Paris.
Throughout the autumn and winter No. 46 Group continued its
supply missions, and although many continental airfields were in
very poor shape the Dakota crews operated with commendable
regularity and with scarcely any accidents except for wing tips
damaged on congested emergency landing grounds. In December
1944 the airfield at Nivelles, close to Brussels, was made available
solely for the use of transport aircraft. Steel planking for the runway
was flown from England by transport aircraft and a strip 1200 yards
in length was constructed. It proved of inestimable value during the
following months.
As the Allied armies swept forward into Germany, No. 46 Group
played a prominent part in keeping advanced armoured columns
on the move by flying supplies of all kinds, particularly petrol and
oil, to forward strips. On their return flight its aircraft brought back
liberated prisoners of war. During April and May 1945, Stirlings
and Dakotas lifted some 80,000 Allied repatriates from continental
airfields and flew them back to England.
Passengers and supplies of a somewhat different kind were
carried by the crews of No. 38 Group whose main task, apart from
airborne operations, was to help the various agencies working behind
the enemy lines. In this role they supplemented the work of Bomber
Command, in which certain units had been flying ‘special duty’
missions since the early days of the war – notably Nos. 138 and
161 Squadrons which, by 1943, had become expert in dropping
and picking up agents in various parts of Europe. With the advent
of the invasion, operations in support of the various resistance movements were greatly expanded and from the main RAF base at
Tempsford in Bedfordshire more than 28,000 containers, 10,000
packages, and 1000 agents were delivered to Western Europe
between April 1943 and May 1945. The containers, each holding
about 220 pounds, were carried in the bomb bays of Stirlings and
Halifaxes, while packages were stowed in their fuselages. In this
way supplies of all kinds were cast down to eager and resolute hands
in France, Belgium, Holland, Denmark, Poland, and Norway. Small
arms of all kinds, with the appropriate ammunition, were prominent
among these supplies, but hardly less important were explosives
for the work of sabotage, wireless equipment, food, clothing,
medical supplies and, grimmest of all, poison pills for those who,
if captured, might not be able to endure the excruciating tortures
which were so prominent a feature of interrogation by the Gestapo.
Among the New Zealanders who flew special duty missions, Wing
Commander A. H. C. Boxer had a particularly long and distinguished
career which included many flights to Poland and ‘pick-up’ operations in France. For the last year of the war Boxer was to command
No. 161 Squadron, which specialised in carrying Allied agents and
in bringing back Allied airmen who had evaded capture. Flight
Lieutenants Moffat
Flight Lieutenant W. P. Moffat, DFC; born Palmerston North, 23 Sep 1914; factory
manager; joined RNZAFJul 1942.
and Strathern
Flight Lieutenant W. M. Strathern, DFC and bar; RAF; born Invercargill, 2 Aug 1919;
electrical wireman; joined RNZAFJan 1942.
achieved a fine record of successful sorties as captains with No. 138 Squadron; both survived
several encounters with enemy fighters. Flying Officers Bell,
Flight Lieutenant W. P. Bell, DFC; born Blenheim, 7 Dec 1912; farmer; joined RNZAFApr 1941.
Cox,
Flight Lieutenant F. A. Cox; born Christchurch, 6 Feb 1919; clerk; joined RNZAFOct 1941.
and Kay
Flight Lieutenant J. H. Kay, DFC; born Auckland, 10 May 1922; civil servant; joined
RNZAFDec 1941.
were among the pilots who flew many missions with No.
38 Group. On one occasion Bell's aircraft was hit by flak while
crossing the enemy coast. He flew on, but soon engine failure forced
him to turn back. The night was moonless and very dark, the
bomber soon became very difficult to control, and eventually Bell
had to land on the sea. This he managed successfully, and although
language difficulties increased the hazards of the incident – he was
carrying a load of French paratroopers – all but two of the
passengers were transferred to dinghies and subsequently rescued.
Bell himself dived into the sea to save one man who could not swim.
The special duty aircraft was very much a lone wolf; it had no
fighter escort and exploited low flying under most difficult conditions,
contending with both flak and fighter defences. Moonlight nights
were favoured for sorties, but it was exacting work requiring the
most accurate navigation. Location of the actual landing or dropping
zone was often the hardest part of a flight since reception committees
naturally tended to select remote spots in forests or desolate valleys;
in the absence of landmarks such as river, road or railway, these
were extremely hard to find, since usually the only help received
from the ground was the light from a few electric hand torches and
this could easily be obscured by ground mist or low cloud. The torch-
holderstorchholders flashed an agreed recognition signal and arranged themselves
in a pattern to indicate the dropping or landing zone.
If supplies were to be dropped the aircrew had to work hard to
unload their cargo quickly in order to prevent the packages from
being scattered. Landing to set down or pick up passengers was
more precarious, since there was always the risk of arrangements
going wrong. For example, a pilot landed one night at the usual
recognition signal but immediately he touched down his plane was
fired upon by Germans surrounding the ground. Behind the Maquis
signaller stood a soldier pressing a revolver into his back. Realising
the situation in a flash the pilot took off again, luckily with only a
slight wound in the neck.
A cryptic phrase in a BBC foreign news bulletin was the usual
method of warning recipients that a special drop was to take place.
This was the call to action which sent men out into the night from
their homes – maybe in some remote French or Dutch village or in a
distant part of Norway – to make their way to the prearranged
ground, where they waited for the sound of aircraft engines – and
also for the noise of a German patrol. Sometimes bad weather or
enemy fighters prevented the aircraft from reaching them and they
waited in vain; on other occasions containers and packages dropped
by parachute might be scattered by the wind and men would have
to spend most of the night seeking them, since discovery of parachute or package by the Gestapo invited examination of the whole
district. Altogether the difficulties of delivery and reception were
many but by 1944, with closer liaison between the RAF and the
teams in the field, careful training and mutual understanding of
each other's problems, a highly organised system was developed
which, on the whole, operated with remarkable efficiency.
Of its results, one example is given by General Eisenhower in his
despatch on the campaign in Europe. Describing the liberation of
Brittany, he says: ‘The resistance forces in this area had been built
up around a core of Special Air Service troops to a total strength
of 30,000 men. As the Allied columns advanced these French forces
ambushed the retreating enemy, attacked isolated groups and strongpoints and protected bridges from destruction. They also provided
our troops with invaluable assistance by supplying information of
the enemy's disposition and intention. Not least in importance they
had, by their ceaseless harassing activities, surrounded the Germans
with a terrible atmosphere of danger and hatred which ate into the
confidence of the leaders and the courage of the soldiers.’
CHAPTER 14
Bomber Command and the Battle of Germany
During the spring and early summer of 1944, with the Allied
bombers almost fully engaged in support of the Normandy
campaign and in attacking V-weapon targets, Germany had enjoyed
a respite from heavy air attack. This respite, as Harris and Spaatz
feared, the Germans had used to repair and rebuild damaged
factories and to reorganise and disperse their war production. In
these months, despite a new big mobilisation for the Wehrmacht,
their war economy continued to expand, the output of armaments
of all kinds increased and, in July 1944, Germany reached its
highest level of war production. But this was the turning point.
That same month British and American bombers returned to the
assault of the Reich – an assault which was to be developed on a
massive and previously unheard of scale during the last autumn
and winter of the war. Within the space of nine months well over
half a million tons of bombs were hurled down upon German cities,
industrial centres, oil plants, and communications in a terrific
onslaught that was to defeat the most energetic attempts at repair,
dispersal and reorganisation, and bring ruin to the enemy's war
economy.
Royal Air Force Bomber Command returned to the Battle of
Germany with a force of 1500 heavy bombers, two-thirds of them
Lancasters and the rest Halifaxes. There was also a small force of
some 200 Mosquito light bombers, some of which were employed
as pathfinders, others on special missions to deceive and disrupt the
enemy defences. Notable advances had now been made in tactics,
in radio counter measures and in navigational aids, which enabled
this British force to be employed with devastating effect. In the
sphere of tactics the despatch on major raids of a Master Bomber, an
experienced pilot who flew over the target and directed the bombing
by radio-telephone, proved highly successful in achieving greater
concentration. Radio counter measures now employed no fewer than
ten squadrons whose aircraft, equipped with a wide variety of
scientific devices, jammed enemy radio and radar transmissions and
interfered with the equipment carried by the German night fighters.
Existing navigational aids were steadily improved and refined and
in October 1944 there came an interesting innovation in the form
of a new radar aid, known as ‘GH’, which proved of immense
value.
This device exactly reversed the method of ‘Oboe’; whereas the ‘Oboe’ ground stations made the first transmissions and used the echoes to guide the aircraft, the first
‘GH’ transmissions were made by the aircraft itself. This had the great advantage that
a far greater number of aircraft could use the device simultaneously. There was, of
course, the disadvantage that the necessary calculations of position, which with ‘Oboe’
were made at the ground stations, had to be made in the aircraft; but against this a
number of aircraft, bombing on their own fixes, tended to cancel out the cumulative
errors which arose from a system used by only one machine at a time.
Until September 1944 the German night-fighter force remained
a formidable obstacle to successful night operations, but in that
month the air defence of Germany began to crumble. Not only was
the Luftwaffe becoming very short of fuel, but with the German
Army driven out of France the enemy's early-warning system was
lost; simultaneously RAF ground stations for navigational aids were
moved to the Continent and the range of ‘Gee’, ‘Oboe’, and ‘GH’
greatly extended. Every advantage was then taken of the desperate
position of the enemy defences and extremely complicated operations
were planned which made it most difficult for the Germans to
concentrate their night fighters over any given target or on the route
of any particular bomber stream. The collapse of the German
defence system also made it possible for Bomber Command to
operate more frequently by day against targets in Germany. Operations became less dependent on the weather, and during the last
winter of the war they were maintained on a scale which would
have been impossible but a year earlier.
Of particular interest was the introduction at British airfields of
the apparatus known as FIDO – the initials stood for ‘Fog Investigation and Dispersal Operation’ – which was responsible for saving
many valuable aircraft and lives. Petrol burners were installed at
short intervals along a runway and around the perimeter of selected
airfields, and when lit heated the air sufficiently to disperse the fog.
After considerable experiment three main airfields which had served
for some time as emergency landing grounds were so fitted; Carnaby,
in Yorkshire, for the northern area; Manston, in Kent, for the
southern region and for aircraft operating on the other side of the
Channel; and Woodbridge, in Suffolk, for the benefit of the
squadrons based in East Anglia. The lighted runway at each was
some 3000 yards long and 250 yards wide and the latest navigational
aids and systems of flying control were installed. By May 1945,
1200 aircraft had made landings at Woodbridge alone by the use of
‘Fido’.
The main weight of Bomber Command's attack during the latter
part of 1944 fell upon German cities. Beginning with a raid by 600
Lancasters and Halifaxes against Kiel on 23 July, British bombers
attacked eighteen German towns during the next five weeks,
dropping 30,000 tons of bombs. At almost every target the bomb
concentration was greater than ever before. In Stuttgart, which was
hit three times within five nights, there was terrific destruction and
more than 100,000 people were made homeless. After one single
raid on Bremen, reconnaissance photographs showed ‘an area of
almost complete devastation extending for over three miles from
the old city as far as the west part of the docks; three quarters of
the Atlas Shipyard buildings were destroyed, nearly forty dockside
warehouses gutted and rail facilities severely damaged’. There was
a period in mid-September when columns of smoke rose from half
a dozen German cities at the same time. Speaking in Essen that
month, Goebbels declared ‘that our worst headache is the air war.
The test to which the enemy is putting our people, particularly in
the west, is severe and grievous.’
But as yet the onslaught had only begun. In October, Bomber
Command intensified its attack, devoting a major part of its effort
to the Ruhr. Here the great industrial centres of Bochum, Dortmund,
Duisburg, Dusseldorf, and Essen were subjected to repeated and
massive attacks. Over 1000 Lancasters and Halifaxes were sent to
Essen on the night of 23 October and 770 in the daylight raid which
followed two days later. Dusseldorf was the target for a thousand-bomber raid in which 4500 tons of bombs fell on the city, while
bomb-scarred Cologne, attacked three times in four days by large
forces, received nearly 10,000 tons. The attacks on Duisburg during
the day and night of 14 October were among the heaviest of the
whole war in space and time. Within eighteen hours over 2000 aircraft dropped a total of 9299 tons of high explosive, which was more
than the Luftwaffe had dropped on London during the whole year of
the blitz. When Bochum received its second attack of the month
from a force of over 700 bombers, the city soon became engulfed in a
sea of flame and a few days later reconnaissance pilots found ‘large
concentrations of craters intermingled with gutted buildings to form
huge areas of complete devastation.’
Further blows of tremendous weight and great severity continued
to fall on the Ruhr cities during November 1944. Duisburg, Essen,
and Solingen – the Sheffield of Germany – were each heavily bombed
twice more and there were further massive raids on Dortmund,
Hagen, Neuss, Oberhausen, and Munster. Outside the Ruhr the
northern ports, together with industrial cities in central and southern
Germany, were also bombed, particularly heavy attacks falling on
Bremen, Wilhelmshaven, Brunswick, Karlsruhe, and Stuttgart.
Certainly the tonnage of bombs unloaded on German towns by the
RAF during the autumn of 1944 was much greater than it had been
during any previous period of the war, yet the damage inflicted
on the enemy's war industry did not rise proportionately. This was
particularly true of the Ruhr and Rhineland where, in cities like
Cologne and Essen, many of the heavy blast bombs did little more
than convulse the rubble. ‘Effective additional damage,’ says Sir
Arthur Harris, ‘could only be done to the already devastated cities
of the Ruhr by the enormous expenditure of bombs, and as much
as four to five thousand tons in a single attack and sometimes up
to 10,000 tons in two attacks in close succession.’ Actually the Ruhr-Rhineland area was no longer the concentrated arsenal it had been
in the first four years of the war. Many of the light industries –
especially those making munitions, small arms, radio equipment, and
all manner of accessories and components for tanks, aircraft, vehicles,
and U-boats – had long since been dispersed in small towns or else
had been removed to central or eastern Germany. Consequently the
immediate output of munitions and weapons, other than tanks, was
not directly affected to any considerable extent by Bomber
Command's renewed onslaught. On the other hand, the heavy
industries that the Germans had not been able to disperse or transplant suffered severely; in particular, the production of coal and
steel which, until September, had been maintained at a level little
below the peak of the previous year, now showed a sharp decline.
During the last quarter of 1944 the Ruhr produced barely half
the hard coal and crude steel that it had produced in the first
quarter.
Even so, there seems little doubt that the most important result
of Bomber Command's renewed onslaught on German cities during
the autumn of 1944 was the incidental destruction of transport
facilities. ‘Transport governs all,’ declared Speer, addressing German
production leaders early in November. ‘The most urgent problem
is the coal crisis which its disruption has already caused.’ What had
happened was that although large quantities of coal were still being
produced in the Ruhr it was proving impossible to distribute them.
Already only some 10,000 wagon-loads a day were leaving the
Ruhr as against the 20,000 being moved before the bombing began.
Speer was deeply disturbed at this trend of events but hoped that
the approaching winter weather would restrict the bombing, when
it would be possible to restore the situation by a tremendous effort
at repair and reconstruction. But all his plans and hopes were
doomed to be frustrated. Not only did the attacks continue throughout the winter but, from November onward, Bomber Command
began to concentrate more and more against railway centres and
communications, with results even more marked than they had been
during the autumn.
Greater concentration of the Allied bombing effort against transport targets had long been urged by Air Marshal Tedder. In his
opinion the one common factor in the whole German economy vital
to both war industry and to the armies in the field was the German
system of railways, roads, and canals. The heavy air attacks before
D Day had paralysed the French and Belgium railways to an even
greater degree than had been anticipated. A similar campaign
against the German transport system, Tedder argued, would have
the same devastating effect; it would not only produce economic
chaos inside the Reich but would also substantially reduce military
supplies to the western front. In spite of doubts on the part of the
British Air Staff and Air Chief Marshal Harris's concern that heavier
casualties would be incurred if he concentrated on one type of
target, Tedder had eventually won support for his views. Early in
November a new directive to the Allied bombing forces gave transport clear priority, with oil, for attack.
British crews bombed eleven communication centres in Germany
during the closing weeks of 1944, among them the important railway junctions of Aschaffenburg, near Frankfurt, Soest and
Saarbrucken. An outstandingly successful attack was made on the
railway centre at Giessen on the night of 6 December. After two
hundred Lancasters had been over in clear weather, craters studded
the marshalling yards, engine sheds were wrecked, and other buildings destroyed; three weeks later the marshalling yards were still
completely out of action. But by far the most important contribution
made by Bomber Command to the transport offensive during this
period was the series of attacks on the important Dortmund–Ems
and Mittelland canals.
The Dortmund–Ems canal, as its name implies, not only linked
the North Sea port of Emden with the Ruhr but also, through a
junction with the Mittelland canal near Rheine, carried all the
inland water-borne traffic between the Ruhr and central and eastern
Germany. This traffic, which now amounted to some thirty million
tons a year, consisted largely of coal and coke moving from the
Ruhr and raw materials, such as iron ore, being carried to its
furnaces and factories. There was one point where this canal was
particularly vulnerable to air attack, namely in the neighbourhood of
Ladbergen, where the canal was carried over the River Glane in an
aqueduct. Well aware of the danger, the Germans had constructed a
second branch also across the river on an aqueduct; thus, should
the first be blocked, there would be an alternative channel. At the
same time elaborate camouflaging of the course of the Glane was
attempted and safety gates were built on both branches of the canal
to prevent long stretches being drained by breaching the
embankments.
Towards the end of September 1944, ninety-nine Lancasters
attacked and hit both branches at points where they were above the
level of the surrounding country. Water drained from both canals
into the river below and, in spite of the safety gates, a stretch 18
miles long was left almost dry with more than a hundred barges
stranded. The energy with which the Germans set about repairing
the waterway gave eloquent testimony to its importance. Within a
month these repairs had been completed. Thereupon, early in
November, Bomber Command attacked again, this time with 176
aircraft. The western branch of the canal was breached in the same
place as before, only this time the breach was wider, while in the
eastern branch two lengths of embankment, together amounting to
1500 feet, were destroyed; two bombs also pierced the aqueduct at
the point where it crossed the River Glane and left a hole going
down to the riverbed some 70 by 230 feet in dimension. The water,
carrying many barges with it, drained into the countryside. Once
again the Germans set about repairs but this time they sealed off
the eastern branch, evidently considering it was beyond hope. The
reconstruction was completed by 21 November and on that day the
canal was being filled with water. The same night 228 RAF bombers
attacked again, scoring at least four direct hits on the aqueduct and
breaching the embankment on both sides of the safety gates.
Tenaciously the Germans began repairs yet again, and a month
later photographic reconnaissance revealed that by feverish activity
their engineers had accomplished the feat of reconstruction. Nine
minutes only sufficed for 102 Lancasters to wreck the results of their
labours. Attacking in daylight on 1 January 1945, the bombers
almost obliterated their target and reconnaissance after the raid
showed delayed-action bombs still bursting as water poured through
a wide breach in the western wall to flood the surrounding country-
side. The bombing of the Mittelland canal at Gravenhorst was
equally effective. After the raid on 21 November 18 miles of this
canal was drained and navigation stopped, photographs showing
fifty-nine barges stranded over a distance of barely a mile. In the
next attack on this target on 1 January, British crews put down a
most accurate concentration of bombs and long stretches of the
embankment were destroyed. Repairs were attempted but navigation
beyond Gravenhorst was never again resumed.
As the movement of coal by rail was more and more restricted
through air attack, its transport by canal had become decisive in the
maintenance of industry in Germany. Yet, since the end of September
1944, there had been few days when the Germans were able to use
these two important waterways; even though they made the utmost
use of those few days by rushing closely packed convoys of barges
through the danger points, throughout all these months there was
an average loss to the central and eastern areas of Germany of
some 40,000 tons of coal a day, or the equivalent of fifty train loads.
German cities and communication centres continued to receive
heavy attacks throughout the winter months, but the outstanding
feature of this period was Bomber Command's larger and highly
successful part in the oil campaign. A brief retrospect is necessary
to note the development of this campaign and the difficulties and
controversies that accompanied it.
German oil production had long been regarded as an important
objective, but until 1944 conditions for successful attack had been
lacking. In the spring of that year, United States bombers operating
from both the United Kingdom and Italy began an offensive against
oil targets which, although limited in weight and extent, produced
promising results. However, it was not until early June that high
priority was ordered for the attack of the enemy's oil supplies. The
general arrangement then was that RAF Bomber Command and the
US 8th Air Force would attack synthetic oil plants in central and
eastern Germany, together with crude oil plants around Hamburg,
Bremen, and Hanover. At the same time the US 15th Air Force
based in Italy was to bomb the refineries around Ploesti, Vienna, and
Budapest, together with synthetic plants in Silesia and Poland.
Royal Air Force205 Group also operating from Italy was to
continue its immensely effective work of mining the Danube so as
to obstruct oil shipments to the Reich.
Bomber Command entered the oil campaign with an initial list
of ten synthetic plants in the Ruhr. Here in the past few months
the Americans had sustained fairly heavy casualties from flak, and
the accuracy of their daylight attacks had been considerably reduced
by the ever-present industrial haze; however, it was hoped that
Bomber Command, with its new navigational aids, would be able
to overcome this obstacle even though its attacks would be launched
at night. The first RAF attack took place on the night of 12 June
when some three hundred aircraft were sent to bomb the Nordstern
plant at Gelsenkirchen, one of the largest in Germany. Bombing on
markers dropped by Oboe-equipped pathfinders was very effective
and photographic reconnaissance revealed widespread damage over
the entire area of the plant. Most of the subsequent attacks were
equally successful and by the end of September British crews had
dropped 12,600 tons of bombs on all ten of their allotted targets.
Meanwhile American bombers, in a series of spectacular daylight
raids, had dropped more than 50,000 tons.
The combined onslaught produced something like panic in
Germany for it coincided with the loss of the Roumanian oilfields,
which forced the Germans to rely more than ever on their own
synthetic plants. At the end of August Speer told Hitler that the oil
situation contained ‘all the portents of catastrophe’, adding that ‘the
last air attacks have again hit the most important oil works
heavily …. The three hydrogenation plants at Leuna, Brux and
Politz, although only recently in commission again, have been
brought to a complete standstill for some weeks ….’ In the second
week of September, just when these plants were about to resume
the refining of petrol, there were further heavy attacks and for nine
days synthetic production ceased entirely. The month's output of
aviation and motor spirit was only 57,400 tons, barely one-sixth of
the amount consumed in August. Stocks of petrol which had stood
at more than a million tons in April were now reduced to 327,000 –
one month's supply at the rate of consumption prevailing before the
air attacks began. For September the petrol allocation to the German
forces had been cut by 50 per cent and in October there was a further
reduction. Among other things, this had an immediate effect on the
German Air Force. Not only were training schedules drastically
reduced but actual operations were also restricted. Thus, in spite of
the delivery of more than 3000 single-engined fighters in September
(an all-time record for the Reich), the Luftwaffe was even less
capable of defending the oil plants than it had been in the summer.
Unfortunately, however, the Allied air forces failed to follow up
their initial success in the oil campaign. During October 1944, less
than one-tenth of their total effort was directed against oil targets
as compared with more than 25 per cent in both July and August.
Bomber Command devoted only six per cent of its October sorties
to oil. This reduction of effort allowed the Germans, by a series
of brilliant expedients, to repair and rebuild their refineries
sufficiently to produce 96,000 tons of petrol in November. This was
only a third of the output for April and less than current consump-
tion, but, by enforcing the most stringent economies, Hitler was
able to postpone the day of reckoning into the New Year.
The slackening of the oil offensive was due to several reasons.
Bad weather which came unexpectedly early gave the key refineries
in eastern Germany and Czechoslovakia a degree of protection which
the Luftwaffe could not provide. The summer raids on these plants
had been made entirely by the Americans and, although they had
caused great damage, this had seldom resulted in plants being put
out of action for more than two or three weeks. The Americans
had found that they needed to make repeated attacks if they were to
keep the refineries idle, but the autumn weather made this increasingly difficult. Bomber Command, which could deliver much heavier
and more concentrated blows, was therefore asked to help with
these distant targets. But Air Marshal Harris was anything but
enthusiastic about the proposal. From the outset he had been
‘altogether opposed’ to the oil campaign and still very much doubted
its value. In his opinion oil was only another ‘panacea’ target and
‘the arguments of the economic experts had invariably proved
fallacious.’ Harris was subsequently to admit that for once the
experts had been right, but at the time he persisted in the belief
that he could do most damage to the enemy by intensifying his area
attacks on industrial cities.
One reason for Harris's reluctance to attack the more remote oil
plants was the fact that these lay beyond the range of the radar
navigational aids which had enabled his bombers to strike so
effectively at targets in the Ruhr. He argued, therefore, that refineries
such as Leuna, Brux, and Politz could not be bombed accurately
except in weather good enough for visual bombing, and such weather
would favour the enemy defences. The Luftwaffe's night-fighter
force was still formidable and Bomber Command would suffer heavy
losses if he sent main forces deep into Germany to attack objectives
so obvious and vital as the synthetic plants. Since the chances of
success appeared to him to be small, he was not prepared to take
the risk until he had compelled the Luftwaffe to dispose its night
fighters in defence of many widely separated targets. He could
compel such dispersion, he thought, only by resuming mass raids
on major cities. So strongly did Harris hold these opinions that when
pressed to intensify the attack on oil targets he offered to resign,
and it was not until mid-December that he was finally prevailed
upon to bomb the distant oil refineries at Leuna and Politz. In the
event, only seven out of seven hundred aircraft were lost in the two
attacks. Bomber Command's loss rate had, in fact, been steadily
decreasing since the summer, and in September and October it was
less than two per cent.
Meanwhile German hopes that the bad weather and fogs of
winter would prevent a renewal of the offensive had not been
realised. In November the total Allied effort against oil was nearly
treble that for October. The United States Air Forces bombed plants
and refineries over a wide area, dropping a total of 21,500 tons in
persistent daylight attacks. Bomber Command, while still devoting
more than half its effort to German cities, added a further 14,000
tons in operations against synthetic plants in its familiar battle-
groundbattleground of the Ruhr. The heaviest RAF raids fell on the refinery
at Homberg. This had already been badly damaged by Bomber
Command in the summer and the additional damage now wrought
caused the plant to be finally closed down. At Castrop-Rauxel the
plant had not resumed full production after earlier damage when
it was again attacked by 260 Lancasters on 21 November. Thereupon
all attempts at further repair were abandoned. By the end of the
month most of the synthetic oil plants in the Ruhr were no longer
operating.
Two notable developments in December 1944 marked the opening
of the final stage in the campaign against German oil supplies.
Firstly, the US 15th Air Force carried out over a period of ten days
what were, in many ways, the most remarkable series of sustained
operations in the whole offensive. In particular, they achieved the
immobilisation of the Silesian synthetic plants – clinched four weeks
later by their capture by the Russian Army – and stopped production
in the synthetic plant at Brux, which was working up to a substantial
output after it had been heavily damaged early in the previous
summer. Secondly, RAF Bomber Command with its successful attacks
on the synthetic plants at Politz and Leuna now entered more fully
into the oil campaign. In fact, the 47,000 tons dropped by British
crews on oil targets during the first twelve weeks of 1945 was
considerably more than the effort for the whole of the previous
year. In January 1945 strong forces of Lancasters made further
attacks on Leuna and Politz and also bombed the large oil plants
at Brux, Wanne-Eickel, and Zeitz. In addition, the Benzol plants
at Dortmund, Castrop-Rauxel, Fortsetzunge, and Langendreer were
subjected to heavy raids. By the beginning of February the plant at
Politz had been reduced to ‘a shambles of wrecked buildings,
shattered tanks and buckled piping.’ It did not resume production
again.
As the Allied attack continued the German repair organisation
became increasingly powerless to deal with the heavy destruction,
especially that dealt out by the large bombs of the Royal Air Force.
Speer commented to Hitler upon the great effectiveness of these
heavy bombs and spoke of their ‘extraordinary accuracy in attaining
the target even though they were often dropped at night.’ In his
opinion, Bomber Command's night attacks ‘caused considerably
more damage than day raids’ and were often the decisive factor in
putting out of action the largest and most important of the enemy's
synthetic oil plants. ‘Repair measures,’ he adds, ‘were executed at
most plants until the end of the war but towards the end the
bombers succeeded in timing their attacks either shortly before or
shortly after the resumption of production so that it was no longer
possible to attain any output worthy of the name.’
Meanwhile Bomber Command had also continued to attack
German industrial cities, communication centres, and rail marshalling yards. No fewer than 50,000 tons of bombs were carried to these
targets in both day and night raids during the first eight weeks of
1945. The British bomber force was now at the height of its power
and efficiency and, even though January and February brought
particularly unfavourable weather, there was a higher average total
of sorties for these months than in any previous winter of the war.
With ground stations established on the edge of Germany and with
the enemy air defence largely impotent, aircraft could now attack
distant targets with a certainty of success, so the offensive was
carried into industrial Saxony, where towns that had been previously
untouched were largely destroyed. Dresden, for example, was
devastated over a wide area on the night of 13 February by a force
of just over 800 aircraft, while other important industrial centres
such as Dessau and Chemnitz were successfully attacked for the
first time. Smaller towns in the west which had previously been
considered too small and too difficult as targets were also raided
with marked effect. At the same time the further bombing of such
cities as Cologne, Hanover, Kassel, Munich, and Nuremberg served
to augment the attacks on specific rail and communication targets.
These attacks, particularly those directed against marshalling
yards and bridges in the Ruhr, increased the confusion wrought
throughout Germany by the earlier Allied raids on rail and water
transport. In his interrogation after the war Speer declared: ‘From
November onwards, with the sharp deterioration in the transport
position, the coal situation became so catastrophic that it was
impossible to avoid the most severe dislocations in the whole of the
armaments industry.’ By March 1945 important power-stations, after
struggling for months with inadequate supplies of coal, had begun
to close down completely. Gasworks throughout Germany were in
a similar plight, while metal-producing plants and munition factories
no longer produced. The German railways were reduced to a few
days' supply of coal; some divisions had even less, locomotives were
standing idle, and coal in transit was being confiscated to keep
military trains moving. Meanwhile, at the Ruhr collieries the coal
was piling up in huge dumps; by the end of February, stocks there
stood at well over 2,000,000 tons as against 415,000 tons six months
earlier. Thus did the transport campaign reach its climax.
No less dramatic was the ultimate effect of the air campaign
against the enemy's oil supplies. By March 1945 the German armies
were desperately short of fuel, and the small reserves of aviation
spirit that still remained would soon be exhausted. After the war
both Speer and Jodl separately confirmed that lack of fuel was
substantially responsible for the rapid collapse of the German forces
on the eastern front. In the third week of January 1200 tanks had
been massed at Baranova to stem the Russian drive into Upper
Silesia. ‘When the Russian attack started,’ says Speer, ‘the tanks were
practically unable to move.’ On the Western Front the position was
no better. From January onwards the quantities of fuel available
were reduced to insignificant proportions. ‘The main burden of the
fighting,’ says the commander of the Fuehrer Escort Brigade, ‘was
borne by the infantry because, in spite of concentration of fuel
supplies, our tanks have only been mobile in special circumstances.’
During this final battle of Germany, Bomber Command also
attacked naval targets with marked success. At Dutch, Norwegian,
and Baltic ports the bombers sank or damaged both warships and
merchantmen, smashed U-boat and E-boat pens, and inflicted widespread destruction upon dock areas and shipyards. Minelaying was
also sustained, and although the effort was on a somewhat smaller
scale – as a result of the Allied advance many areas no longer needed
attention – the mines laid from the air continued to take a heavy
toll of enemy ships along those routes still open for them.
A particularly outstanding achievement was the sinking of the
Tirpitz. There had been several earlier attempts to sink this great
43,000-ton battleship, but in September 1944 it still remained afloat
at Alten Fiord in the north of Norway, causing no little irritation
and anxiety at the British Admiralty.
In April 1942 Halifaxes had made two low-level attacks at night when the Tirpitz was
anchored off Trondheim, but a smoke screen had provided an effective shield. Following
an attack by a Russian submarine three months later, the Tirpitz was in dock for six
months undergoing repairs. In the autumn of 1943 two midget submarines of the Royal
Navy penetrated the anti-submarine defences at Kaa Fiord, off Alten Fiord, where the
Tirpitz had been based for some time. Torpedo hits put her out of action for a further six
months. Then, during the spring and summer of 1944, dive-bombers of the Fleet Air Arm
operating from aircraft carriers succeeded in confining the battleship to Kaa Fiord.
Alten Fiord was out of range
of Lancasters carrying a normal bomb load so two squadrons, Nos.
9 and 617, which had specialised in precision bombing, were sent to
attack from a base in Russia; by approaching from the east there
was also a better chance of achieving surprise and of aiming at least
some bombs before the smoke screen set up for the protection of the
battleship could provide effective cover. However when, on 14
September, the twenty-seven Lancasters reached the fiord, they found
it filled with smoke and only one crew got a sight on the battleship,
which was hit by a 12,000-pound bomb in the bows. The damage
was not very clear in the reconnaissance photographs but captured
German documents show that it was more severe than was thought
at the time – in fact, the Tirpitz could not have been repaired before
the end of the war. The battleship now moved slowly to Tromso,
which was just within range of Lancasters based in Britain but so
far north that there was little time left before the darkness of the
Arctic winter descended to prevent daylight attack for several
months. On 29 October a second attack by the same two squadrons
was foiled at the last moment when low cloud drifted in from the
sea and completely covered the target area. A fortnight later, how-
ever, the Lancasters found Tromso clear of smoke and cloud and
the first 12,000-pound bomb dropped hit the Tirpitz amidships,
causing a jet of steam to burst from her riven deck and form a huge
mushroom above her. Two more bombs also found their mark, and
as the last aircraft turned away the great battleship heeled slowly
over; when a Mosquito flew over two hours later only the bottom
of her hull showed above the water.
Ten New Zealanders were among the crews who flew these
spectacular but difficult operations and four of them were captains
of aircraft – Flight Lieutenant Gumbley
Flight Lieutenant B. A. Gumbley, DFM; born Napier, 12 May 1915; projectionist;
joined RNZAFAug 1941; killed on air operations 21 Mar 1945.
and Flying Officer Joplin
Flight Lieutenant A. W. Joplin; born Auckland, 23 Oct 1923; clerk; joined RNZAFMay 1942.
who flew with No. 617 Squadron, and Flying Officers Coster
Flying Officer D. A. Coster; born Invercargill, 13 Jul 1918; tractor driver; joined RNZAFMay 1942.
and
Harper,
Flying Officer M. L. T. Harper, DFC; born Invercargill, 19 Nov 1919; railway porter;
joined RNZAFMay 1942.
who flew with No. 9 Squadron. Coster and his crew had
an unenviable experience during the final raid. On the run up to
bomb their Lancaster was hit by flak, and shortly afterwards two
engines developed trouble. With little hope of reaching base the
crew set course for Sweden, where they force-landed safely but not
before they had been attacked by Messerschmitts on the way. A few
days later the crew were flown back to England by the RAF's
‘special air service’.
New Zealand pilots, navigators, bomb aimers, wireless operators,
and gunners were similarly well represented in the many raids on
German industrial centres, transport targets, and oil plants. Some
flew with No. 75 Squadron, many more as crew members of RAF
Lancasters, Halifaxes, and Mosquitos. There were some remarkable
experiences. On 1 January 1945 Flying Officer Denton
Flight Lieutenant F. H. Denton, DFC; born Christchurch, 25 Mar 1920; farmer; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
captained
a Lancaster of No. 9 Squadron in the attack on the Dortmund-Ems
canal, the vulnerable stretch of which was well defended by anti-aircraft guns. Bombs had just been released when the Lancaster was
hit by two heavy shells in quick succession. Gaping holes were torn
in the fuselage, fire broke out in the mid-upper turret, and ammunition began to explode in all directions; through the shattered
perspex screen in the nose rushed a continuous stream of air to fan
the flames. With its trimming gear damaged the bomber became
tail heavy, and it was only by forcing the control column forward
with his knees that Denton was able to maintain level flight.
Further misfortunes soon followed. The starboard inner engine
caught fire and had to be feathered; then the inter-com. failed. The
crippled aircraft was now alone and an easy target for any enemy
fighters which might appear, for the bomber stream and its escort
were well out of sight. Charts for navigation had been blown away
by the first inrush of air so an approximate course was set towards
the Allied lines. Every minute the situation inside the bomber became
more desperate. Parachutes had been torn to pieces by shell
fragments; two members of the crew were so severely burned that
they subsequently died; the rear gunner, overcome by the fire and
the fumes, had been dragged from his turret and lay unconscious
with his clothing smouldering, while Denton and the rest were
feeling the effects of frostbite and fatigue. Finally, the Rhine could
be seen below. Flying over it at 4000 feet, the Lancaster was again
the target for enemy flak and, during efforts to evade it, further
height was lost. Once friendly territory had been reached the climax
came quickly. The port inner engine failed and Denton made an
immediate crash-landing. As he did so the fuselage broke in half
where flak damage and fire had been most severe.
Another amazing series of incidents befell Flying Officer Byers
Flying Officer I. H. Byers, DFC; born Shannon, 30 Sep 1917; factory manager; joined
RNZAFJul 1942.
and his crew of No. 61 Squadron one night in December during
the attack on Giessen. First came a sharp fighter attack; then, just
as the bombs were released, a nearby burst of flak sent their
Lancaster plunging almost out of control. A minute later incendiaries
dropped from an aircraft above struck the fuselage, followed almost
immediately by a burst of fire from a fighter which killed the mid-upper gunner and set his turret alight. The blaze soon gained a
firm hold and a second fire developed in the port wing, sending
long tongues of flame licking along the fuselage. Byers now ordered
the crew to bale out but the wireless operator, busy over his set, did
not hear the order. He remained in the aircraft and, as the Lancaster
flew on, managed to subdue the fire in the mid-upper turret. Byers,
who had stayed at the controls, thereupon decided to attempt a
landing on the Continent. Eluding a trailing fighter, he flew towards
Liege on fixes supplied by his companion. Eventually the Lancaster
arrived over an airfield – it was unlighted and its short runway
was normally only used for fighters, but Byers managed a safe
landing with the aid of the aircraft's lights and Very cartridges.
Occasionally these grim experiences had their lighter side. When
one New Zealand navigator, after baling out from his crippled
Lancaster, crashed through the roof of a granary in a Dutch village,
the people sleeping below mistook his arrival for that of a delayed-action bomb and hastily left the building, leaving him trapped until
daybreak. The navigator, Flying Officer Pratt
Flying Officer O. D. Pratt; born Invercargill, 12 Sep 1912; accountant; joined RNZAFMay 1942.
of No. 462 Squadron,
tells his story thus:
We jumped at seventeen thousand feet. There was a terrific gale at that
height and I thought I should never get down as I was being blown along
almost horizontally. At long last I saw a dark mass below me. Then a church
steeple flashed by and I went crash through a roof. I found myself swinging
by my parachute harness in inky darkness and released myself. I think I was
knocked out for half an hour. When I came to it was still dark and I felt
all the way round the walls and gradually realised that there was no door.
I could see a glimmer of light from the hole I had made in coming through
the roof and managed to climb through it to the roof top. I shouted and
shouted without result for a long time, but when light finally came there
must have been half the village packed into the streets below. When the
police finally rescued me I found I had crashed through the roof into a loft
twenty feet high with only a trap door exit in the floor.
During this last year of war New Zealand airmen distinguished
themselves in many different roles with Bomber Command. Several
veteran pilots were concerned with the control and planning of
operations; others commanded squadrons or served as flight commanders with operational units, some being selected to undertake
the highly important duties of Master Bomber during major raids.
Experienced men who had been fortunate enough to survive the
earlier campaigns flew with the pathfinder squadrons paving the
way night after night for the main bomber force; among captains
of aircraft the proportion of New Zealanders was relatively high,
while in the many important tasks connected with organisation,
training, and maintenance the Dominion continued to be well
represented.
Air Vice-Marshal C. R. Carr, Air Commodore S. C. Elworthy,
and Air Commodore A. McKee were outstanding personalities.
Carr, in his fourth year as commander of No. 4 Bomber Group,
continued to direct the operations of his Halifax squadrons with
typical energy and skill; Elworthy, as Senior Air Staff Officer at
No. 5 Group, was responsible for the planning and execution of
many notable missions, including the series of attacks which resulted
in the sinking of the Tirpitz; McKee continued in charge of the
important bomber base at Mildenhall, where his handling of the
operational squadrons and other units under his control won special
commendation. Among squadron commanders, Wing Commander
J. R. St. John's fine record of service – he completed three tours of
operations – won him admission to the Distinguished Service Order.
Other New Zealanders in charge of bomber squadrons during this
period were Wing Commanders D. W. S. Clark and Shannon,
Group Captain U. Y. Shannon, DFC; RAF; born Wellington, 6 Dec 1905; joined RAF1930; commanded No. 30 Sqdn, Iraq, Egypt, and Greece, 1938–41; RAF Station,
Gordons Tree, Middle East, 1941; No. 10 Sqdn, 1944–45; RAF Station, Full Sutton,
1945.
who
led Halifaxes in Carr's group, and Wing Commanders J. R. Maling,
Scott,
Wing Commander C. W. Scott, AFC, Croix de Guerre (Fr.), Chevalier of the Order of
Leopold (Bel.); born Milton, 20 Sep 1917; transport driver; joined RNZAFJan 1940.
and Shorthouse,
Wing Commander J. S. Shorthouse, DFC; born Portsmouth, England, 11 Apr 1920;
joined RNZAFApr 1939; transferred RAFJan 1940; transferred RNZAFJul 1945;
commanded No. 189 Sqdn, 1944–45.
with Lancasters.
Wing Commander B. W. McMillan with No. 582 Squadron,
Squadron Leader A. W. G. Cochrane of No. 156 Squadron, and
Squadron Leader Bromley
Wing Commander C. W. Bromley, DFC, AFC; RAF; born Melbourne, 27 May 1915;
joined RAF1938; commanded No. 6 BATF, 1941–42; asst Air Attaché, Stockholm,
1945–47.
with No. 35 Squadron were among the
small group of experienced pilots entrusted with the exacting and
hazardous duties of Master Bomber. The Master Bomber and his
deputy stayed over the target throughout an attack. After assessing
the accuracy of target indicators dropped by marker aircraft and
broadcasting instructions for bombing to the main force, they
watched the progress of the raid, ready to order further marking
or to correct any drift of the bombing away from the target.
McMillan directed many successful attacks and also gave outstanding service with his pathfinder squadron; in December 1944 he was
made a Companion of the Distinguished Service Order and two
months later was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross. Cochrane
flew at least fourteen missions as Master or Deputy Master Bomber
and by the middle of February 1945 had completed over eighty
sorties, including forty-eight as a pathfinder captain. On the night
of 7 February 1945 he controlled the important attack on the
fortified town of Goch. Early in the raid his Lancaster collided with
another bomber, and although part of the port wing was torn away,
he continued to direct the attack until all aircraft had bombed. Such
was the quality of Cochrane's work as Master Bomber that he was
decorated in three consecutive months – he was made a Companion
of the Distinguished Service Order in January 1945, the next month
he received a bar to the Distinguished Flying Cross he already held,
and a second bar followed in March.
Many New Zealanders who flew with pathfinder squadrons during
this last year of war were on their second or third tours of operations.
One pilot, Squadron Leader Ashworth,
Squadron Leader A. Ashworth, DSO, DFC and bar, AFC; RAF; born Gisborne, 3 May
1920; draughtsman; joined RNZAFSep 1939; transferred RAFJun 1940.
was to complete a total of
110 sorties which involved some five hundred hours on operations.
Ashworth, who began his career with No. 75 Squadron early in
1941, had also flown many sorties in the Middle East before taking
a prominent part in the formation of the PFF and the evolution of
its tactics. Squadron Leader G. M. Allcock, who had flown transport
aircraft in the Middle East and then served as a flight commander
with the New Zealander bomber squadron, was to complete his
second tour of bombing operations with No. 7 Squadron. With this
same unit Squadron Leader Bray
Squadron Leader A. C. Bray, DFC and bar; born Ashburton, 8 May 1914; clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
and Flight Lieutenant Muir,
Flight Lieutenant A. J. Muir, DFC and bar; born Dunedin, 30 May 1913; plumber
joined RNZAFApr 1942.
now
on their second tours, were outstanding as captains of target-marking
aircraft. Squadron Leader J. M. Smith, who had flown consistently
since 1941, was equally successful with No. 97 Squadron.
With the main bomber force, Flight Lieutenant Allen
Flight Lieutenant T. W. Allen, DSO, DFC; born Auckland11 Mar 1922; engineer;
joined RNZAFMay 1941.
and Squad-
ronSquadron Leaders W. T. Brown,
Squadron Leader W. T. Brown, DFC and bar; born Oamaru, 13 Aug 1911; fields
instructor; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
Gainsford,
Squadron Leader A. P. Gainsford, DSO, DFC, AFC; born Auckland, 20 Nov 1913;
mercer; joined RNZAFSep 1940.
Glensor,
Squadron Leader R. E. Glensor, DFC; born Wellington, 13 Nov 1916; clerk; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
Harrison,
Squadron Leader J. A. Harrison, DSO, DFC; born Hastings, 28 Sep 1914; farmer;
joined RNZAFNov 1940.
and
Scott won distinction as flight commanders and captains of aircraft.
Glensor had originally been a navigator in Wellingtons. Shot down
over Essen in the middle of September 1942, he had evaded capture
and, in spite of very great hardships, had made his way through
France and Spain to return to the United Kingdom some four months
later. He immediately applied to resume operations and was subsequently trained as a pilot. Prominent navigators were Flying
Officers Avery
Flying Officer G. A. Avery; born Blenheim, 20 Dec 1920; farmer; joined RNZAF Oct
1942.
of No. 106 Squadron, Creamer
Flying Officer J. W. Creamer, DFC; born Auckland, 27 Apr 1912; school teacher; joined
RNZAFFeb 1942.
of No. 227 Squadron,
and Kelly
Flying Officer K. L. Kelly, DFC; born Christchurch, 28 Jan 1925; clerk; joined RNZAFOct 1942; killed in flying accident, 23 Aug 1945.
and Stevens
Flying Officer W. G. Stevens, DFC; born Southland, 13 May 1910; clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1942.
of No. 619 Squadron. Flight Lieutenant
Gordon
Flight Lieutenant R. C. Gordon, DFC, DFM; born Taihape, 15 Mar 1916; sheep farmer;
joined RNZAFJul 1941.
had a fine record as bombing leader with No. 625 Squadron,
while other air bombers to distinguish themselves were Flying
Officers Combs
Flying Officer W. L. Combs, DFC; born Masterton, 29 Jan 1911; civil servant; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
of No. 514 Squadron and Birtles
Flight Lieutenant J. L. Birtles, DFC; born Otaki, 30 Oct 1911; dairy farmer; joined
RNZAFApr 1942.
of No. 619
Squadron. Flight Lieutenant Twist
Flight Lieutenant D. Twist, DFC; born Thames, 26 Oct 1920; student; joined RAFMay 1940; transferred RNZAFJan 1944.
did valuable work as flight
engineer leader with No. 106 Squadron. He had enlisted in the
Royal Air Force in 1940 as an aircrafthand and in a varied career
had flown in bombing attacks on targets in Germany, Italy, and the
Middle East.
New Zealanders were also prominent among the crews of Bomber
Command's versatile Mosquito squadrons. The Mosquitos had long
been employed both as pathfinders and for diversionary raids; their
harassing attacks had also been a constant and, from the enemy's
point of view, a most irritating and unpleasant feature of the bomber
offensive. Night after night, flying at between 30,000 and 40,000
feet, they were over Germany inflicting damage out of all proportion
to the weight of bombs they dropped; sirens wailed continually in
enemy cities and night fighters were drawn away from the main
bomber stream. As the war progressed the strength of their raids,
which had been as low as one or two aircraft a night in 1943,
increased to as many as 122 in February 1945. In their widespread
activities over Germany, Berlin was the chief sufferer, being visited
on about 170 occasions. Material destruction was caused at steel-
works, power-stations, blast furnaces and synthetic oil plants in
such towns as Cologne, Duisburg, and Hamburg.
Squadron Leaders T. W. Horton, G. L. Mandeno, and A. George
Squadron Leader A. George, DFC, DFM; born Hawera, 7 Apr 1912; farmhand; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
were outstanding Mosquito captains. Horton, who early in the war
had captained Blenheims, continued with No. 105 Squadron to
become flight commander and deputy squadron commander. By
April 1945 he had completed 111 missions, including eighty-four
with the pathfinder force. Mandeno, a veteran pilot of Whitleys,
commanded a flight of No. 139 Squadron during his third tour of
operations. George, who had won distinction with Wellingtons
during the early years, also flew with No. 139 Squadron.
Other prominent Mosquito pilots were Flight Lieutenant A. A.
Dray, who had served with his No. 109 Squadron since the pioneer
days of Oboe-marking during 1943, Flight Lieutenant Tudhope,
Flight Lieutenant D. H. Tudhope, DFC and bar; born Hamilton, 9 Nov 1921; joined
RNZAFAug 1941.
on
a second long period of duty with No. 139, and Flight Lieutenant
Grey
Flight Lieutenant J. G. Grey, DFC and bar; born Dunedin, 21 Dec 1917; farmer; joined
RNZAFSep 1940.
and Flying Officer J. F. Thomson, both with No. 627 Squadron.
Squadron Leaders Finlay
Squadron Leader W. G. Finlay, DSO, DFC and bar, Croix de Guerre (Fr.); born
Hamilton, 20 Oct 1917; joined RNZAFSep 1940.
and G. A. Patrick were two outstanding
navigators. After a first tour of thirty-three sorties with Wellingtons,
Finlay went on to complete a further 104 missions in Mosquitos.
Awarded a bar to his Distinguished Flying Cross in October 1944,
Finlay's exceptional service won him admission to the Distinguished
Service Order. Patrick, another pioneer of Oboe-marking, now flew
with No. 35 Lancaster Squadron. On one occasion in November
1944, he was a member of a crew detailed for marking duties over
Dusseldorf. Shortly after take-off, the radar aids to navigation failed
but ‘he directed his captain so accurately that the bomber reached
the target on time and on the return journey crossed the English
coast barely two miles off track.’ For this exceptional feat of navigation and his record of no fewer than 118 bomber sorties, Patrick
was also made a Companion of the Distinguished Service Order.
Another navigator who achieved a fine record of service was Flying
Officer L. B. Winsloe
Flying Officer L. B. Winsloe, DFC and bar; born Gore, 21 Aug 1916; salesman; joined
RNZAFDec 1940.
of No. 105 Mosquito Squadron; he had
previously completed a tour of operations with heavy bombers.
New Zealand airmen also played their part in the ‘radio counter-
measures’ which did so much to ensure the success of the main
bomber force by screening its movements and disrupting the enemy
defences. From June 1944 to May 1945 a total of eighty-three men
from the Dominion served with the squadrons of No. 100 (Bomber
Support) Group. Their Halifax, Stirling, Mosquito, Liberator, and
Fortress aircraft were fitted with a variety of ingenious devices with
which they were able to jam the enemy's early-warning system, upset
radio-telephone communications between his ground controllers and
fighters, and interfere with the transmissions from airborne radar
and interception apparatus. Flight Lieutenant Lye,
Flight Lieutenant C. E. Lye, DFC; born Auckland, 13 Feb 1920; telephone mechanician;
joined RNZAFSep 1941.
a captain of
No. 214 Squadron, flew many sorties to jam ground-to-air communications and Flight Lieutenant Sturrock,
Flight Lieutenant H. Sturrock, DFC; born Christchurch, 20 Nov 1921; apprentice;
joined RNZAFDec 1941.
of No. 171 Squadron,
often dropped ‘window’ to create diversions for the main force.
With the Mosquito night-fighter squadrons' operations as ‘intruders’
against enemy fighters and their airfields or as escorts to the bombers,
Flight Lieutenants Win,
Flight Lieutenant F. D. Win, DFC; born Reefton, 9 Mar 1916; railway porter; joined
RNZAFDec 1940.
T. P. Ryan, Badley,
Flight Lieutenant D. L. Badley, DFC; born Napier, 11 Feb 1922; clerk; joined RNZAFDec 1941.
and Flying Officer
Cotter
Flying Officer K. M. Cotter, DFC; born Te Kuiti, 14 Jan 1922; apprentice; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
were prominent. Win as pilot and Ryan as navigator formed
a successful crew with No. 85 Squadron and during their tour shot
down a Junkers 88 and a Messerschmitt 110. The destruction of the
Messerschmitt was a fine example of teamwork. The enemy used
elaborate evasive tactics and resorted to low flying in a desperate
effort to elude the Mosquito, but the New Zealanders maintained
contact during a long chase and finally destroyed their target as it
was about to land.
* * * * *
No. 75 New Zealand Lancaster Squadron played a prominent
part in the final battle of Germany. From July 1944 until the end
of the war, its crews flew 2020 sorties against industrial centres, oil
plants, and communications – this in addition to their many missions
in close support of the armies, against V-weapon targets, and in
minelaying. Such was the squadron's contribution that throughout
all these months it consistently occupied top or second place among
the squadrons of No. 3 Group for total sorties flown and tons of
bombs dropped. This was striking testimony to the efficiency of the
squadron organisation and to the enthusiasm and skill of the ground
staff in keeping aircraft serviceable.
Wing Commander R. J. A. Leslie continued in command until
early December 1944, when he was succeeded by Wing Commander
Newton,
Wing Commander R. J. Newton, DFC; born Christchurch, 17 Jul 1916; commercial
traveller; joined RNZAFApr 1940; commanded No. 75 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944; killed on air
operations, 1 Jan 1945.
who had earlier won distinction as a flight commander
with the squadron. Unfortunately Newton failed to return from a
raid three weeks later. Wing Commander C. H. Baigent then took
over and led the squadron for the remainder of the war; barely
twenty-two years of age, Baigent began his third tour as the youngest
squadron commander in Bomber Command.
The three flights of No. 75 Squadron were at first commanded
by Squadron Leaders R. B. Berney, L. J. Drummond, and N. A.
Williamson; subsequently Squadron Leaders J. M. Bailey, Earl,
Squadron Leader R. C. Earl, DFC; born Bristol, Gloucestershire, 6 Jan 1920; clerk;
joined RNZAFMar 1941.
Gunn,
Squadron Leader G. R. Gunn; born Masterton, 8 May 1918; quantity surveyor; joined
RNZAFMar 1941; killed on air operations, 17 Sep 1944.
McKenna,
Squadron Leader L. D. McKenna, DFC; born Timaru, 20 Jun 1922; clerk; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
Parker,
Squadron Leader J. C. Parker, DFC and bar; born Motueka, 22 Apr 1920; clerk; joined
RNZAFDec 1940.
Rodgers,
Squadron Leader J. R. Rodgers, DFC, DFM; born Timaru, 7 Apr 1917; radio salesman;
joined RNZAFJul 1941.
and J. L. Wright led flights
for varying periods. All were experienced men who had gained
distinction for their work in Bomber Command and they served
the squadron well.
A fine record of service as Lancaster captains was achieved by
Flight Lieutenants Andrew,
Flight Lieutenant V. J. Andrew, DFC; born Onehunga, 8 Nov 1919; refrigeration
engineer; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
Abraham,
Flight Lieutenant E. J. Abraham, DFC; born Palmerston North, 26 Feb 1920; school
teacher; joined RNZAFJul 1942.
A. C. Baxter,
Flight Lieutenant A. C. Baxter, DFC and bar; born Egmont Village, 19 Aug 1911;
shepherd; joined RNZAFMar 1940; MP for Raglan, 1946–49.
Kilpatrick,
Flight Lieutenant M. A. Kilpatrick, DFC; born Bulls, 4 Nov 1918; truck driver; joined
RNZAFMar 1942.
Sadgrove,
Flight Lieutenant D. R. Sadgrove, DFC; born Auckland, 3 Mar 1923; bank clerk;
joined RNZAFMay 1942.
Spilman
Flight Lieutenant S. L. Spilman; born Wellington, 11 Jul 1922; warehouseman; joined
RNZAFMay 1941.
and Wakelin,
Flight Lieutenant W. J. Wakelin, DFC; born Petone, 5 Jan 1913; salesman; joined
RNZAFNov 1939.
while among the navigators
the work of Flight Lieutenants Creagh,
Flight Lieutenant A. G. Creagh, DFC; born Melbourne, Australia, 11 Feb 1915; lathe
machinist; joined RNZAFNov 1940.
Bawden,
Flight Lieutenant N. H. Bawden; born Waipawa, 4 Apr 1910; carpenter; joined RNZAFAug 1941.
and Flying
Officers Morris
Flying Officer W. R. Morris, DFC; born Wellington, 8 May 1923; insurance clerk;
joined RNZAFAug 1942.
and Tait
Flying Officer R. S. Tait, DFC; born Hamilton, 24 Feb 1924; clerk; joined RNZAFOct 1942.
was to win special commendation.
Creagh was Squadron Navigation Officer for a long period until
succeeded by Bawden early in February. Flight Lieutenant Russell
Flight Lieutenant G. A. Russell, DFC; born Wellington, 30 Sep 1911; grader operator;
joined RNZAFMar 1941.
was the squadron's bombing leader for the last year of the war.
Other bomb aimers to distinguish themselves were Flight Lieutenant
Ramsay
Flight Lieutenant R. A. Ramsay, DFC; born Balclutha, 12 Feb 1920; insurance clerk;
joined RNZAFDec 1941.
and Flying Officer Parker,
Flying Officer M. E. Parker, DFC; born Dargaville, 24 Dec 1921; warehouseman;
joined RNZAFJul 1941.
while Flying Officers
Williamson
Flying Officer I. J. Williamson, DFC; born Gore, 26 Mar 1912; omnibus driver; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
and Wilson
Flight Lieutenant W. L. Wilson, DFC; born Invercargill, 23 Dec 1921; exchange clerk;
joined RNZAFJan 1941.
gave outstanding service as wireless
operators.
During the summer and autumn of 1944, crews attacked targets
ranging from the northern ports of Bremen, Kiel, and Stettin to
Stuttgart in the south, but the major effort was devoted to the Ruhr
against such familiar targets as Essen, Duisburg, and Cologne. Oil
plants were also bombed. These were still well defended by fighters
and anti-aircraft batteries, and in one July attack on the refinery at
Homberg seven of the twenty-six Lancasters despatched by the
squadron were shot down. But such losses did not go entirely
unavenged. On 25 July the destruction of a Focke-Wulf 190 was
reported by Flight Sergeant Smith,
Flying Officer M. Smith; born Christchurch, 1 Aug 1919; commercial traveller; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
and three nights later Squadron
Leader Drummond and his crew, after a series of lively engage-
ments, sent a German fighter down in flames and damaged a Junkers
88. Towards the end of August the destruction of another Junkers
88 was reported by Flying Officer Scott
Flying Officer J. H. Scott; born Merton, 26 Oct 1915; farmhand; joined RNZAF Jul
1942; killed on air operations, 4 Nov 1944.
on return from Stettin.
In November a larger part of the squadron's effort was devoted
to daylight attacks on oil targets; in four raids on the Meerbeck
plant at Homberg crews flew seventy-five sorties; other objectives
were the synthetic plants at Castrop-Rauxel, Dortmund, and
Gelsenkirchen and the benzol plant at Osterfeld. In addition, the
steel centre of Solingen was raided twice, together with the
communication centres of Coblenz, Neuss, and Cologne.
By December No. 75 Squadron was operating mainly by day using
the ‘GH’ blind bombing technique. Fog and mist often covered the
base at Mepal so that take-off became an uncertain affair, and on
several occasions fog even descended before all aircraft were air-
borne. Yet 250 sorties were flown during this mid-winter month.
In the first fortnight German communications were the principal
target, with attacks on the marshalling yards at Hamm and the rail
centres at Duisburg and Siegen. The Lancasters also took part in
damaging raids on Witten and Oberhausen and penetrated deep into
Germany to bomb the heavily defended Leuna synthetic oil plant at
Merseburg.
Close support of the Allied forces in the Ardennes absorbed most
of the squadron's effort during the last days of December and for
the following three weeks. In spite of appalling weather which
alternated between fog, snow, and rain, No. 75 helped to hasten
the German retreat by attacking marshalling yards behind the enemy
salient; there were also attacks on benzol plants at Dortmund,
Langendreer, and Duisburg and on the synthetic oil plant at
Wanne-Eickel.
Twenty New Zealand Lancasters took part in the attacks of 13
February which brought devastation to much of Dresden. ‘Some
aircraft were able to bomb visually,’ says the squadron record. ‘Crews
reported the whole town well alight and that they could see the glow
of fires when 100 miles away on the return flight.’ The following
night twenty-one aircraft flew in the first attack on Chemnitz, and
during the next few weeks there were further raids on German
industrial towns, among them the important aircraft manufacturing
centre of Dessau. But in February and March oil was the squadron's
main objective. There were thirteen attacks on Benzol plants and
five on synthetic oil plants in which a total of 316 sorties was flown
by New Zealand Lancasters.
In this final battle of Germany No. 75 Squadron lost thirty-two
Lancasters with their crews which, be it remembered, meant the
loss of more than two hundred highly trained and skilled men.
Casualties were heaviest during the summer months of 1944 when
the German fighters, with their early-warning system more or less
intact, could still put up a strong resistance; but even during the
autumn and winter when the fighters were frustrated by lack of
warning and fuel shortage, the danger from flak remained and
over some targets it even increased.
Some idea of the grim ordeal through which many men passed
may be gained from the experiences of two crews lost over Germany
one night towards the end of July 1944. The first crew were over
France on their way to bomb Stuttgart when they were attacked by
a night fighter. Cannon shells ripped through the length of the fuse-
lage, the rear gunner was killed instantly, equipment was smashed
and the intercom. put out of action. The bomber began to dive
steeply and a fire started in the bomb bay, filling the fuselage with
acrid fumes and smoke. The controls were so damaged that it was
only by the combined strength of captain and second pilot, with
their feet on the instrument panel, that the dive was arrested. But
the fire spread rapidly and the crew's troubles were further increased
by the attention of several searchlights and their attendant guns.
As the Lancaster continued to lose height the captain, Flight Lieutenant Stokes,
Flight Lieutenant N. A. D. Stokes; born Christchurch, 31 Dec 1918; clerk; joined RNZAFFeb 1942; killed on air operations, 29 Jul 1944. Stokes and his air gunner, Sergeant N. V. Wilding, from Monmouthshire, were buried by the French at Yevres, near Chartres.
Each year a commemorative service is held during Battle of Britain week in the village
church.
gave the order to abandon, while he himself remained
at the controls to facilitate the exit of the crew. By so doing he
forfeited his own chance of survival. The second pilot was the last
out and his chute had barely opened when the bomber crashed
and exploded immediately beneath him.
The mid-upper gunner struck his head on the tail while baling
out, lost consciousness until very near the ground and, although
he pulled the ripcord in time for his parachute to take the weight,
he landed heavily. Two hours later, dazed and badly shaken, he
found himself crawling along a road. Fortunately he was first seen
by patriots who sheltered him until the district was captured by the
Americans. The rest of the crew landed safely and, with help from
members of the French Resistance, they, too, evaded capture.
The second crew had bombed and were flying back across France
when an enemy fighter attacked. Its first bursts put all four engines
out of action; then it raked the fuselage with bullets, killing both
wireless operator and mid-upper gunner and wounding the navigator.
Closing in for a second attack, the fighter met determined fire from
the Lancaster's rear guns and down it went. But this was too late
to save the bomber. Blazing furiously it also began to go down out
of control. By a supreme effort the pilot, Flying Officer Blance,
Flying Officer I. E. Blance; born New Plymouth, 7 Jan 1923; cinema projectionist;
joined RNZAFFeb 1942; killed on air operations, 29 Jul 1944.
succeeded in arresting the downward plunge just long enough for
three of his crew to bale out safely but he and his bomb aimer were
unable to leave. Bomber and fighter eventually crashed within half
a mile of each other. Of the survivors only the rear gunner, Flight
Sergeant Kirk,
Warrant Officer A. C. Kirk; born Christchurch, 23 Mar 1923; butcher; joined RNZAFMay 1942.
managed to evade capture. Most of the time Kirk
was in France he spent at a camp of the Resistance Movement and
on one occasion he took part in ambushing some German tanks.
In March 1945 the Allied bomber offensive reached its climax.
By that time Germany's basic industries, coal, steel, gas and electric
power, oil and transport, were all faced with ruin; Germany was
in chaos and the total collapse of her power to wage war was
imminent. Indeed, in the last stages of the land campaign, says
General Eisenhower in his report, the enemy forces ‘could do little
more than wait for the Allied avalanche to sweep over them.
Weapons, ammunition and food alike ran short and the dearth of
fuel caused their powers of tactical mobility to dwindle to the
vanishing point.’
The final concentration of effort against German communications
and oil supplies was undoubtedly the most important factor in
bringing about this situation. But there had also been a remarkable
increase in the actual weight of attack – no less than 75 per cent
of the bombs which fell on Germany during the whole of the war
were dropped after 1 July 1944. Moreover, as the scale of the
bombing mounted the ability of the Luftwaffe to defend German
industry had steadily declined, enabling the Allied bombers to
launch frequent and accurate attacks which defeated the most
energetic attempts at repair; prior to 1944 the German economy had
been able to absorb the shock of strategic bombardment but thereafter its effect was rapidly cumulative.
Had there been firmer direction and closer co-ordination of the
tremendous air power available during the last year of the war, the
economic collapse of Germany might well have occurred earlier.
Throughout the summer and well into the autumn of 1944 there
had been continual debate and discussion regarding policy and
objectives, with the many interested parties pressing the claims of
various target systems. Matters were not helped when, in September
of that year, control of the heavy bombers was handed back from
the Supreme Commander in Europe to the Combined Chiefs of
Staff. Their subsequent vague directives and the conflicting views
expressed by an elaborate system of committees and advisory bodies
only served to complicate rather than clarify bombing policy. Not
for nothing did Air Marshal Harris complain that ‘too many cooks
were stirring the broth’, and Sir Arthur Tedder declare that ‘the
bombing offensive was taking the form not of a comprehensive
pattern but what could only be described as a patchwork quilt.’ It
was, in fact, not until the end of 1944 that a large measure of
co-ordination was achieved in the Allied bombing campaign against
Germany.
Nevertheless, in spite of these shortcomings the campaign had
become increasingly effective, and of its ultimate success there can
be little doubt. At the time no one was in a better position to judge
matters than Albert Speer, German Minister for War Production,
who had made the most determined and remarkable efforts to avoid
catastrophe on the industrial home front. Yet on 15 March 1945 he
was forced to tell Hitler: ‘The final collapse of the German economy
can be counted on with certainty within four to eight weeks ….
After this collapse even military continuation of the war will become
impossible.’
This was the goal towards which the Allied strategic air forces
had long striven. For RAF Bomber Command its attainment marked
the end of more than five and a half years of effort, an effort which,
from small beginnings, had been sustained through all manner of
difficulties and disappointments. The casualties had been grievous.
Of the 125,000 members of aircrew who entered Bomber Command
units during the war, 56,000 lost their lives (47,300 of them on
operations), about a third of that number were injured, and a further
12,000 held prisoner by the enemy. In addition, some 2000 men
and women were killed or wounded while engaged in various ground
duties, either from enemy action, from accidents such as occurred
in the handling of vast quantities of bombs, or from the effects of
exposure whilst working all hours of the day or night in the bitter
cold of six war winters. High praise, indeed, is due to the members
of Bomber Command's ground staff whose faithful service on the
operational airfields and with training and supply units contributed
much to the success of the offensive. Most of their duties were
exceedingly dull and they had none of the thrills of action. There
was, for example, precious little excitement to be derived from
working in the open, in rain, wind or snow, in daylight and through
darkness, twenty feet up in the air on the aircraft engines and air-
frames, at all the many and intricate tasks that had to be undertaken
to keep the bombers serviceable.
To the aircrew who flew and fought with Bomber Command, no
more sincere tribute can be paid than that of their famous
commander, Sir Arthur Harris, who writes:
There is no parallel in warfare to such courage and determination in the
face of danger over so prolonged a period, of danger which at times was so
great that scarcely one man in three could expect to survive his tour of thirty
operations; …. Of those who survived their first tour of operations, between
six and seven thousand undertook a second, and many a third tour. It was,
moreover, a clear and highly conscious courage, by which the risk was taken
with calm forethought, for their air-crew were all highly skilled men, much
above the average in education, who had to understand every aspect and
detail of their task. It was, furthermore, the courage of the small hours, of
men virtually alone, for at his battle station the airman is virtually alone. It
was the courage of men with long-drawn apprehensions of daily ‘going over
the top.’ They were without exception volunteers, for no man was trained for
air-crew with the R.A.F. who did not volunteer for this. Such devotion must
never be forgotten. It is unforgettable by anyone whose contacts gave them
knowledge and understanding of what these young men experienced and
faced.
Bomber Offensive, p. 267.
CHAPTER 15
Coastal Command Patrols
Throughout this last year of the war when fighter pilots
and bomber crews were carrying the offensive towards the heart
of Germany their comrades in Coastal Command were equally active
against the enemy at sea. Little was said of their work at the time
but their contribution to the final victory was a notable one. Thanks
largely to their efforts, the movement of supplies to the armies
fighting on the Continent proceeded almost unmolested, the U-boats
were held in check, naval surface craft were driven from their
hunting grounds, and enemy merchant ships harassed and sunk;
continuous photographic and weather reconnaissances were also
provided for all three services. Indeed, it might well be said that
without Coastal Command's vigilant and relentless sorties the
triumphs of the Allied armies could not have been achieved, and the
bombers could not have been sent to wreck German industry.
The battle against the U-boats continued to demand the major
effort. From D Day to the end of the war crews flew over 20,000
sorties over areas as widely separated as the English Channel, Ice-
land, Biscay, the North Sea, the Western Approaches, and the west
coast of Africa. During these patrols they sank fifty-six U-boats
outright and destroyed a further nine in co-operation with surface
forces; their constant guard of convoys at sea and in the approaches
to Allied ports also saved many ships from being attacked or even
sighted. Indeed, the enormous deterrent value of the air patrols
can scarcely be over-emphasised.
In June 1944, during the first weeks of the Normandy campaign,
Coastal Command had scored a notable victory; no U-boats reached
the invasion area and nine were sunk while attempting to do so –
five of them within three days. Constant patrol and attack kept the
others down and finally forced them back. However, in spite of this
setback the German submarines made further attempts during July
and August to penetrate the Channel defences and get amongst
Allied shipping. But for fear of air attack they now travelled under
water, raising their schnorkels for only a few hours at a time to
recharge the batteries upon which they had to rely when travelling
completely submerged.
Schnorkelling just below the surface was disliked by the U-boat
crews because of the fumes and uneven air pressure it caused inside
the vessel, and also because in calm seas the tube made a considerable
flutter which could be seen by ships or aircraft. Nevertheless, the
schnorkel did make it possible for the German submarines to crawl
undetected along the coast to their patrol positions where, if the
depth of the water permitted, they lay on the sea bed awaiting opportunity for attack. Outlying rocks made their detection by aircraft
radar difficult, while the many wrecks, eddies, and tide-rips in the
comparatively shallow waters of the English Channel militated
against the successful use of asdic. However, in these two months
air and surface forces succeeded in destroying thirteen U-boats, while
only eight Allied ships were lost in the Channel area.
Towards the end of August 1944 the southward advance of the
American armies forced the Germans to abandon their operational
bases in the Biscay ports. This was a serious blow to Doenitz's hopes
of renewing the U-boat war on a large scale, but by skilful planning
and routing he did succeed in transferring a large part of the Biscay
flotillas to Norwegian and German bases. This move he covered
by a sharp renewal of operations in English coastal waters,
principally in the northern and southern approaches to the Irish
Sea. Counter-action by Coastal Command brought good results,
especially during the second half of September when five U-boats
were sunk in places as far apart as the coast of Norway and the
Azores. This was highly satisfactory, but it did not diminish the
enemy's determination to continue the offensive. On the contrary,
Doenitz now planned a new and audacious campaign in the British
coastal areas from which he had been driven four years earlier.
Such was the tenacity of the German U-boat arm.
The final phase of the submarine war began in October 1944.
Although by this time there was little chance of making the new
campaign big enough to cut off Allied supplies, the success of the
schnorkel and the possibilities of the new electro U-boats encouraged
German hopes that at least serious damage would be done. Both
Hitler and Doenitz expected great things from the new types of
submarines by which, according to Doenitz, ‘all equipment at present
employed in naval warfare can be circumvented and eliminated
since they could remain submerged and their underwater speed was
greater than that of most Allied merchantmen and escort vessels.’
The first of these new U-boats would soon be ready for operations
and it was planned to produce more than two hundred by the end
of the year.
Meanwhile, Doenitz sent his older-type boats from their Norwegian bases to operate against Allied convoys to Russia and in
the coastal waters of the United Kingdom. Employing tactics of
evasion with great skill, they achieved increasing success during the
next few months, particularly in English coastal waters, where they
torpedoed both warships and merchant vessels almost within sight
of air and naval bases. Greater experience in the use of the
schnorkel, together with the onset of winter, gave them almost
complete immunity from air attack. Coastal Command crews now
had extremely small chance of sighting a target. During November
only four aircraft managed to attack schnorkelling U-boats, and all
that was seen after the depth-charges had been dropped was whitish
steamy smoke at the head of a long wake of bubbles. At the end of
December a Wellington of Coastal Command did sink a U-boat
off Cherbourg, but there was no evidence of success in any of the
other counter-attacks in the Channel area where seven merchant
ships and two frigates were torpedoed during the last fortnight of
that month.
At the beginning of 1945, therefore, it seemed to British observers
that the long war against the U-boat was far from ended and that
the enemy, with his new weapons, possessed the power to achieve a
stalemate. During the following months Coastal Command, by
constant patrolling, sought to prevent the enemy from regaining the
mastery with his new weapons. Every possible scientific means was
employed to augment the natural skill of pilots and crews. Intensive
efforts were made to improve radar equipment and to make crews
highly efficient in its use, and by mid-January 1945 experiments with
the new ‘Sono’ buoy were in full swing. This apparatus was a means
of detecting the noise made by the propellers of a submerged U-boat.
The tactics employed were to drop a pattern of five buoys in the
neighbourhood of a suspected U-boat and, by listening to the signals
received, determine its course and position, whereupon an attack
would be delivered.
These measures brought some successes during patrols in the
vicinity of the British Isles. In February one U-boat was sunk by
Coastal Command and a second by surface craft as a result of a
periscope sighting from the air; in March two more were sunk,
one in the Channel and one off Northern Ireland, and in April two
in the Channel, one in the Irish Sea, and two more off the western
coast of Ireland. Efforts were also made to attack U-boats in their
home waters and in the training grounds of the southern Baltic. Since
these areas were well defended by both fighters and anti-aircraft
batteries, Leigh-Light aircraft were assigned to the task and they
made fifteen attacks in these areas by night. Yet the last months of
the war brought no slackening of the enemy's effort. In February,
eight ships were sunk in British coastal waters and a further nineteen
during March and April.
Thus did the battle continue to the end, with the air patrols
keeping the enemy under and greatly limiting his power of attack,
while he, by his skill, grim determination, and the aid of various
new devices, was able to elude the defences and score a certain
measure of success. Fortunately the effect of Allied air raids on
U-boat production and training was such that the ‘revolution at
sea’, which the Grand Admiral had promised, never took place; by
February 1945 only two of the new types of submarine had been
sent out on operations, and although over one hundred had been
commissioned the chances of bringing them into service were further
reduced by the advance of the Red Army towards the Baltic ports.
* * * * *
Throughout this last phase of the war at sea New Zealanders
played their part in patrol and attack. Some flew with the Liberators,
Halifaxes, and Wellingtons which maintained the day and night
vigil in the Channel and protected supply convoys in the Western
Approaches; others were with Catalina, Sunderland, and Liberator
squadrons at bleak and remote spots in northern Scotland or the
Shetlands, from where they flew long patrols over the northern
seas as far as the Arctic circle protecting convoys to Russia and
seeking U-boats on passage from their bases in Norway. There was
also a substantial representation with the squadrons on the West
African coast and in the Azores. No. 490 New Zealand Squadron
continued to patrol from a base in West Africa until the end of the
war.
Wing Commanders D. M. Brass and M. A. Ensor achieved a fine
record of service in command of anti-submarine squadrons based
in the United Kingdom. Brass, who had been with Coastal Command
since the early days, was in charge of Leigh-Light Wellingtons for
the last two years of the war, where his service won him admission
to the Distinguished Service Order. His squadron record contains
this tribute: ‘Brass has served the squadron well. Taking over at
the peak of the U-boat war he led the squadron through some of its
busiest days – the final stages of the Biscay battle – the vast operation
which kept the U-boats out of the Channel during the invasion and
finally in patrols off the Dutch Coast. He will be remembered by
those who served under him as a great personality ….’ Wing
Commander Ensor, who was now completing his third tour of opera-
tions, led a squadron of Liberators which in this last year destroyed
no fewer than seven U-boats. ‘This remarkable success,’ says an
official report, ‘was due in very large measure to his efforts. His
enthusiasm for operations and his lead to his crews set a very high
standard.’ Ensor was among the few pilots of Coastal Command
who had the distinction of two confirmed U-boat kills. He was
awarded a bar to the Distinguished Service Order in February 1945.
Other prominent leaders were Wing Commander Frame,
Wing Commander A. Frame, DFC; born Oamaru, 6 Sep 1916; joined RAFMar 1938;
transferred RNZAFJan 1944; commanded No. 204 Sqdn, West Africa, 1944–45.
who
commanded Sunderlands in West Africa, Squadron Leaders S. G.
Baggott and Gibson,
Wing Commander T. P. Gibson, DFC; RAF; born Christchurch, 25 Oct 1913; joined
RAFMay 1938; commanded New Camp Air Base, Gibraltar, 1944–45.
who saw long service with flying boats, and
Squadron Leader Alington,
Wing Commander G. C. Alington; born Ashburton, 24 Nov 1918; joined RAF Aug
1938.
with Leigh-Light Wellingtons.
Pilots, navigators, wireless operators, and gunners saw their share
of what little action there was in this last and difficult phase of the
submarine war. Flying Officer Riddell
Flying Officer I. C. Riddell; born Wellington, 31 Oct 1919; clerk; joined RNZAF Jul
1941.
navigated Sunderland W of
No. 201 Squadron which sank U.107 in the Bay of Biscay during
August 1944; that same month Warrant Officer F. E. Bailey was
radar operator in a Leigh-Light Liberator of No. 53 Squadron which
depth-charged U.618 in the Bay and then brought naval vessels to
the scene to finish it off. This was the sixth attack in which Bailey
had taken part – an unusual record. On patrol off the Norwegian
coast in a Liberator of No. 86 Squadron, Flight Sergeant Carter
Warrant Officer D. Carter, DFM; born Sydney, 20 Aug 1923; audit clerk; joined RNZAFOct 1941.
made the first sighting of U.317 and manned the front guns during
the subsequent attack which sank it. Wireless operator in another
Liberator, Flight Sergeant Bennett
Flying Officer R. D. Bennett; born Te Kopuru, 22 Mar 1917; labourer; joined RNZAFJan 1941.
took part in the attack on a
U-boat in the far north to the west of the Lofoten Islands. Flight
Sergeant Nicholson,
Warrant Officer J. A. Nicholson, DFM; born Dunedin, 8 Nov 1920; storeman; joined
RNZAFJul 1942.
a young New Zealand gunner flying with No.
206 Squadron, won commendation for gallantry in an action with
three Messerschmitt fighters off the Norwegian coast. Early in the
fight his turret was hit and he was badly wounded, but he got his
guns into action again and continued to fire. There were other
similar episodes.
In West Africa No. 490 New Zealand Squadron, equipped with
Sunderland flying boats, continued to operate from Jui, near Free-
town, with an advanced base at Fisherman's Lake in Liberia. Wing
Commander B. S. Nicholl continued to lead the squadron until
September 1944, when he was appointed to command the RAF base,
and for the rest of the war No. 490 was led by Wing Commander
Gill,
Group Captain T. F. Gill, DSO; RNZAF; born Wellington, 31 Jan 1917; joined RAFJun 1939; commanded No. 490 (NZ) Sqdn, West Africa, 1944–45; SASO RNZAF
HQ London, 1945–47; Director, Air Staff Policy and Plans, RNZAF, 1950–53
a distinguished bomber pilot; Squadron Leaders A. M. Foster
and F. W. Kilgour were among the experienced pilots who flew with
the squadron at this time.
West African waters were now so well covered by air patrols
that few U-boats ventured to operate there, while those on passage
to the Indian Ocean usually passed well out of range. Crews there
fore had to face not only the boredom that lack of action produces
but also the difficulties of operating in a tropical climate with its
sudden, violent, and treacherous storms. On patrol in mid-July one
Sunderland was forced down when 200 miles out to sea. The pilot,
Flying Officer McGreal,
Flight Lieutenant M. E. McGreal; born Auckland, 30 Jul 1918; school teacher; joined
RNZAFJan 1940.
made a good landing but the aircraft broke
up quickly in the heavy swell. Dinghies were launched but two of
the crew were unable to get clear; one of them, Warrant Officer
Opie,
Warrant Officer R. A. P. Opie; born New Plymouth, 21 Nov 1920; buttermaker; joined
RNZAFFeb 1942; killed on air operations, 13 Jul 1944.
the wireless operator, was last seen at his post trying to send
out distress signals. In the water Sergeant Jones
Flight Sergeant D. C. Jones; born Swansea, 15 Jun 1922; joined RNZAFSep 1941.
of Swansea
supported an injured comrade until McGreal swam across to inflate
the second dinghy and retrieve the paddles. The survivors drifted
without food and water until the next evening before they were
sighted and rescued.
No. 490 Squadron's main task was the escort of convoys and this
duty was performed with creditable efficiency. Early in March 1945
when the long immunity enjoyed by Allied shipping in West African
waters was suddenly broken by the torpedoing of a ship 500 miles
off Walvis Bay, the New Zealanders headed the list of units in the
area with the largest total of hours flown in the hunt for the U-boat
concerned.
Early in December 1944 a flight of four Sunderland aircraft,
manned almost entirely by members of No. 490 who had completed
their operational tours, arrived in New Zealand. The aircraft were
captained by Wing Commander D. W. Baird and Flight Lieutenants
Shephard,
Flight Lieutenant J. S. Shephard; born Dunedin, 3 Oct 1915; clerk; joined RNZAFNov 1939.
H. K. Patience, and Pettit,
Flight Lieutenant J. C. L. Pettit; born Wellington, 16 Feb 1911; store manager; joined
RNZAFOct 1941.
Their flight of some 16,000
miles from the United Kingdom had taken them via West Africa,
Brazil, Texas, across the United States and the Pacific.
* * * * *
During this last year of war New Zealanders also continued to
play their part in Coastal Command's campaign against enemy
surface shipping. In this campaign the main weapon was the Strike
Wing, with its flak section flying in ahead to silence the enemy
gunners and then the rest following swiftly with their rocket or
torpedo attacks. There were now three Strike Wings, two equipped
with Beaufighters and one with Mosquitos, and their main area of
operations lay over the North Sea and along the Dutch and
Norwegian coasts. Sometimes wings combined for special missions,
as on 25 September 1944 when seventy Beaufighters penetrated the
heavily defended anchorage at Den Helder to attack shipping and
port installations with notable success; nine ships – escorts, mine
sweepers, and flak ships - were set on fire and one of them finally
blew up in a sheet of flame.
By this time wing strikes along the Dutch coast had become so
effective that the enemy had been driven from that area by day
and the port of Rotterdam remained closed to shipping. The ‘Drem’
system was then devised under which a large force would fly out
individually to the patrol area in the darkness and form up at first
light round a circle of flame floats; it could then sweep along enemy
shipping routes before dawn and before convoys moving by night
could seek shelter. About the same time the ‘outrider’ system was
developed under which one or two aircraft flew ahead of the main
striking force and guided it to its target by radio telephone.
But targets remained scarce, and in October the main effort was
transferred to the Norwegian coast. Since Sweden and Finland had
just closed their ports to enemy ships, this was now the only route
by which the Germans could obtain certain ores and other raw
materials to sustain their war industries. Another reason for concentrating the attack in northern waters was to prevent the enemy from
moving troops south to take part in the European battle. During
October there were six wing strikes in the Norwegian area. One of
the most notable took place in the first week when twenty-six
Beaufighters and Mosquitos from Banff crossed the North Sea
before dawn, formed up round ‘Drem’ flares, and then surprised a
convoy of five cargo ships and six escorts about to enter Egersund
anchorage. The attack was brilliantly executed and crews claimed
two cargo vessels sunk, one trawler type auxiliary sunk, and one large
ship of 3500 tons seriously damaged.
Also during October, Coastal Command's two Halifax squadrons
began operating into the Skagerrak and the Kattegat against German
convoys making night passage between Oslo and the Danish ports.
It was not always possible for crews to see the results of their
bombing attacks, but there was one brilliant exception on 25 October
when a Halifax of No. 58 Squadron set a cargo vessel and its escort
on fire with a single stick of bombs; the flames were still visible to
the jubilant crew when their aircraft was 20 miles away. Using a
combination of radar and flares, the Halifax crews showed great
skill in their subsequent night operations, and during the last six
months of the war they claimed more than 25,000 tons of enemy
shipping sunk and over 100,000 tons damaged.
Beaufighter and Mosquito operations over Norwegian waters were
intensified during the winter – in the short daylight hours of
December 1944 more ships were sunk in this area than ever before
in a single month. When it was found that enemy convoys seldom
sailed in daylight, the Strike Squadrons carried their attack into the
small land-locked anchorages and into the deep fiords against whose
precipitous cliffs vessels would often be moored in an effort to escape
detection. To reach such targets crews often had to fly far inland
over snow-covered peaks and then make their final approach in a
swift dive down the side of a steep mountain. The German fighter
squadrons in Norway were still active and of high morale so that
interceptions were frequent, and on one occasion over forty Messerschmitts and Focke-Wulfs attacked a British formation. However,
long-range Mustang fighters now gave cover on most missions, and
though damage and casualties were sometimes quite heavy the
Strike Wings were never prevented from reaching their targets. The
havoc and destruction they caused is reflected in the contemporary
reports of the Reichskommissar for Shipping which complain increasingly of ‘The catastrophic round journey time of ships on the
Norwegian coast and the heavy losses due to enemy action.’
The scale of attack during the last four months of war was
particularly heavy and during that time Coastal Command aircraft
sank over 180,000 tons of enemy shipping. This brought their total
for the war to 690,000 tons, which represented a loss to the Germans
of 486 ships. The additional loss to the enemy through the delays
and damage which the attacks occasioned cannot be measured so
exactly, but it was certainly substantial.
Three New Zealanders, Wing Commanders G. D. Sise, E. H.
McHardy, and D. H. Hammond, achieved particular distinction as
leaders of Strike formations during the last year of war. McHardy
had been with Coastal Command from the early days and was
prominent in leading Beaufighters from bases in East Anglia and
later from Scotland. Hammond, who had come to Coastal Command
after a successful career in the Middle East, also led Beaufighters,
notably in the big raid on Den Helder in September 1944; he further
distinguished himself as flight leader and later in command of No.
489 New Zealand Squadron.
Wing Commander Sise, who led the Banff Mosquito Wing on
many of its most successful missions, was regarded as Coastal
Command's leading ‘ship-buster’. He was indeed, as one citation
puts it, ‘a fine pilot and brilliant leader who displayed great gallantry
in operations against the enemy.’ Typically, one day in November
1944 whilst leading the attack on ships in Floro harbour, his
Mosquito was hit and an engine set on fire, but he continued with
the attack and then flew the damaged machine back across the North
Sea. Shortly afterwards Sise led thirty-four Mosquitos into Nordgulen Fiord to attack a convoy sheltering there. The ships were
hidden at the far eastern end which is enclosed by very high
mountains, and the attack had to be made in a steep dive down the
sides of precipitous cliffs; nevertheless, almost all the ships were hit
by rockets or cannon fire and two of them were left burning
furiously. By the end of the war Sise had completed over 150 operational sorties and had been awarded bars to both the Distinguished
Flying Cross and the Distinguished Service Order.
No. 489 New Zealand Squadron operated with the ‘Anzac’ Beaufighter Wing which also included an Australian and a British
squadron. Led by Wing Commander Robertson
Wing Commander L. A. Robertson; born Stratford, 7 Jul 1916; joined RNZAF Jun
1937; commanded No. 489 (NZ) Sqdn, 1944–45.
and Wing Com
mander Hammond, the New Zealanders flew no fewer than 1250
sorties during the last year of the war, mainly in patrol and attack
over the North Sea and along the Norwegian coast. On wing strikes
the Beaufighters frequently carried torpedoes and acted as the main
striking force, but on occasion they also operated in the anti-flak
role, flying in ahead to saturate the enemy defence with their
cannon fire. Hammond, Flight Lieutenants T. H. Davidson, J. G.
Gow, A. R. Osment, and McKegg
Flight Lieutenant H. R. McKegg, DFC; born Auckland, 6 Dec 1921; bank clerk; joined
RNZAFNov 1941.
were among the pilots who led
formations in these duties with notable success.
During the summer of 1944 the New Zealanders flew from Langham airfield in Norfolk, taking part in twelve wing strikes against
enemy ships in the Dutch coastal waters and in two large attacks
on the well-defended anchorage at Den Helder. August was a
particularly successful month. On the 10th, Hammond led ten Beaufighters carrying torpedoes in a dusk strike against a convoy that
had just sailed from the Weser. There were five cargo vessels
escorted by ten flak ships. A merchantman of between 4000 and 5000
tons was twice hit by torpedoes and left burning furiously. Another
cargo vessel was also hit and six of the escorts were set on fire;
one of these blew up and another was left sinking. Five days later,
twelve New Zealand Beaufighters were among the force of thirty-two aircraft which attacked a convoy off Heligoland and set two
cargo ships and five of the escorts on fire. On the 29th, in the
same area, New Zealand crews scored more torpedo hits on two
large cargo vessels. All these attacks were made in the face of
intense anti-aircraft fire and many of the Beaufighters were badly
shot up. During this one month No. 489 Squadron lost five aircraft
with their crews.
Night rover patrols also produced their share of incident. It was
during one such mission that Warrant Officer Mann
Flying Officer D. H. Mann, DFC; born Greymouth, 15 Dec 1918; joiner; joined RNZAFJul 1941
and his crew
had a most unenviable experience. Flying in to drop a torpedo, their
machine hit the mast of one of the ships. Although part of the
starboard wing was torn away, Mann was able to make a landing
on the sea, but owing to the weather it was eight days before he
and his Lancashire navigator, Flight Sergeant Kennedy,
Warrant Officer D. M. Kennedy; born Southport, Lancs., 24 Feb 1923; joined RAFMay 1941.
were
rescued. During that time they made every effort to put as much
distance as possible between them and the enemy coast. Shortly
afterwards, undeterred by this experience, they returned to their
squadron, to continue flying until the end of the war.
In October 1944 the Anzac Wing moved north and for the rest
of the war it operated over Norwegian waters from the airfield at
Dallachy, some 30 miles east of Inverness. Here, on the north-east
coast of Scotland, the airfield was exposed to the full force of the
frequent gales which swept in from the North Sea, so that aircraft
had to be moored down or else protected by small hangars or earthen
mounds. When the winter storms were at their height it was difficult
to move about the airfield and the wide dispersal of buildings and
Nissen huts where crews slept did not help matters. ‘We shall not
easily forget that last winter of the war,’ writes one pilot. ‘Taking
off from the ice-bound or snow-covered field we sometimes flew
400 miles across the North Sea to find the Norwegian Coast
shrouded in mist or low cloud. Flying among the islands and into
the fiords in search of ships hiding there was rather hazardous since
some of the passages were so narrow that there was little room in
which to manoeuvre one's machine.’
However, despite the difficulties of both climate and terrain,
operations were maintained at a high level, with crews of No. 489
Squadron taking part in many large strikes and also flying rover
patrols by day and night in search of targets. Here are extracts from
contemporary reports of several notable operations in which the
New Zealanders were well represented:
Sula Fiord, 27 November: Convoy of two large merchant ships and
four escorts attacked by the Dallachy Wing. Results of torpedo attacks
not observed but many hits with rocket projectiles seen on 3,500 ton ship
and one escort was set on fire and left sinking. Three Beaufighters were
damaged but all returned safely. Reports subsequently received show that
the other large ship was the ‘Fidelitas’ of 5,740 tons. She did, in fact,
receive a torpedo hit and sank as a result.
Vilnes Fiord, 9 December: Twenty-three Beaufighters attacked a 2,000
ton cargo ship. Showers of debris were thrown into the air and the vessel
was last seen heading for the shore under a heavy pall of smoke.
Forde Fiord, 9 February: Thirty Beaufighters sighted and attacked a
Narvik class destroyer. The fiord is narrow and flanked by steep hills;
consequently it was impossible for all the aircraft to attack together. They
also had to fly through an intense barrage put up by both ships and land
batteries. Nevertheless the destroyer and two auxiliaries were hit. Six of
our aircraft were shot down by flak and a further three by enemy fighters.
Egersund Fiord, 28 March: Two cargo ships and an escort vessel were
seriously damaged after attack by twenty-eight Beaufighters from Dallachy.
Formidable anti-aircraft fire was experienced and four Beaufighters did not
return from this strike.
Apart from these wing strikes, there were also some fine individual
efforts by No. 489 Squadron crews. On a night rover patrol towards
the end of February, Flying Officer Taylor
Flight Lieutenant E. P. Taylor, DFC; born Melbourne, 22 Sep 1922; electrical salesman;
joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
torpedoed the 2500-ton
Alsterstum. She was carrying a cargo of mines, and when his
torpedo struck home Taylor saw ‘a sheet of flame followed by an
intense glow which culminated in a shattering explosion.’ A few
weeks later Warrant Officer Priest
Flying Officer R. S. Priest, DFC; born Waipawa, 25 May 1923; motor mechanic; joined
RNZAFJul 1942.
torpedoed a 3000-ton cargo
vessel in the Skagerrak; flames from the burning ships were still
visible when the Beaufighter was 20 miles away on its homeward
flight.
During the period from its formation in August 1942 to April
1944, crews of the New Zealand squadron were responsible for the
destruction of eleven ships totalling 38,700 tons and the damaging
of a further thirteen ships totalling some 40,000 tons. From May
1944 until the end of the war No. 489 Squadron formed part of
the Anzac Strike Wing which sank nineteen ships of 67,000 tons
and twelve escort vessels. A further eighteen cargo ships, together
with forty-nine escorts of various types, were damaged. The cost of
these successes was not light for the squadron lost thirty-one aircraft
during its operational career; only a fortunate few of the crews
survived.
* * * * *
Photographic reconnaissance, meteorological flights, and air-sea
rescue were among the other tasks of Coastal Command in which
New Zealand airmen shared. The work of the photographic organisa
tion was greatly expanded during the last two years of the war to
meet the ever-growing needs of the Allied commands in all three
services. By 1944 the RAF was flying over one hundred sorties on a
peak day, which meant the subsequent processing, plotting, and interpretation of more than 50,000 exposures.
During the early months of that year a great deal of its work was
devoted to preparations for the Allied invasion of Normandy.
Photographic cover of the areas selected for the landings yielded
valuable information concerning enemy defences, the terrain, roads
and bridges, and enabled models to be constructed for planning
and briefing. Much attention was also given to German preparations
for launching their V-weapons and to the industries engaged in the
production of oil and aircraft, especially of jet aircraft. Once the
Allied forces were established on the Continent, reconnaissance of
enemy communications became a major commitment. This often
involved low flying in the face of intense flak over rail centres and
troop concentrations; many sorties were also flown in preparation
for the airborne landings. In addition, targets attacked by the Allied
bombers were regularly photographed and shipping movements,
U-boat construction, and the enemy's development of underground
factories were carefully watched. Finally, in the last stages of the
war air cover was obtained of all prisoner-of-war camps, which
helped considerably in planning the speedy return to the United
Kingdom of the released prisoners.
Spitfires and Mosquitos were used for most missions although
Mustangs were sometimes employed on special low-level work.
They were unarmed, carrying extra petrol and cameras in place of
guns, and relying on their speed to escape interception. Their
greatest danger lay in the appearance of vapour trails, those slender
white lines left by an aircraft flying high which betray its passage
when passing through certain types of air. The latest type of Spitfire,
camouflaged to blend with the sky and covered with a special dope
giving a highly polished surface, flying as it could and did at 42,000
feet, was well above the danger belt and therefore almost immune
from visual identification. Even were an enemy fighter to climb to
these heights, manoeuvre for a successful attack was exceedingly
difficult. Anti-aircraft fire, however, remained a danger since the
aircraft, of necessity, had to maintain a straight and steady course
when taking pictures.
Forty thousand feet is the brink of the stratosphere, and to fly at
such heights, even in aircraft fitted with pressure cabins, imposed a
severe physical strain. Flying at this height was also a fairly delicate
matter since the aeroplane was near its ceiling and a violent or
clumsy manoeuvre would lead to a stall. There was also the
possibility of the pilot ‘passing out’ with very little warning if any
thing went wrong with the oxygen system, and to guard against
this many of them kept a fairly elaborate log, knowing that as long
as they could write legibly all was well. Even so, there was always
what one pilot calls ‘an extraordinary feeling of muffled remoteness.’
The engine itself, which was practically in one's lap, only made a sort of
ticking noise like a clockwork mouse. The cold, the low pressure and the
immobilizing effect of the elaborate equipment and bulky clothing in the
tiny cockpit had the effect of damping down and subduing all the senses,
except the sense of sight. On a clear day one could see an immense distance,
whole countries at a time. One day over France I saw three or four miles
below me a row of silver Marauders going in over the green and yellow
fields. Around them a scrap was going on, the fighters glinting as they
circled in the sun. I felt like a man looking down into a pool watching
minnows playing near the bottom.
Outside the aircraft the temperature might be 60° or 70° below freezing
and if, as occasionally happened, the cabin heating failed, the cold was
agonising. Everything in the cockpit became covered with frost and long
icicles grew from the pilot's mask like Jack Frost's beard. Most alarming of
all, the entire wind screen and blister hood was liable to frost over so that it
was impossible to see out. At such times the air seemed full of Messerschmitts.
Flight Lieutenant Buchanan
Wing Commander R. C. Buchanan, DFC, Air Medal (US); born Mataura, 15 May 1921;
civil engineering cadet; joined RNZAFApr 1941; commanded No. 682 (PR) Sqdn
1944–45; Wing Leader No. 336 PR Wing, 1945.
who flew Spitfires, and Flight
Lieutenants Cotterill,
Flight Lieutenant G. W. Cotterill, DFC; born Hastings, 22 Apr 1916; joined RAF Sep
1940; killed in flying accident, 8 Nov 1945.
Foster,
Flight Lieutenant R. H. Foster, DFC; born Oamaru, 5 Dec 1921; clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1942.
Olson,
Flight Lieutenant O. P. Olson, DFC; born Auckland, 2 Sep 1920; student; joined RNZAFMar 1941; p.w. 29 Dec 1944.
and Baird,
Squadron Leader S. I. Baird; born Carterton, 14 Apr 1918; journalist; joined RNZAFOct 1939.
who captained
Mosquitos, achieved fine records of service with RAF photographic
squadrons. All five men completed a large total of sorties over
Norway, Czechoslovakia, Germany, and France against enemy cities,
ports, airfields, and railway centres - many of them heavily defended
targets – and the record speaks of the ‘high skill and courage’ they
displayed on these missions.
The men of Coastal Command's air-sea rescue services also did
splendid work. During 1944 alone they rescued 2350 aircrew, mainly
from the waters of the North Sea and the English Channel, an
achievement that was based upon close teamwork by the whole
rescue organisation. Aircraft in the air and launches on the sea were
alike under the orders of a controller, whose task it was to use both
to the best advantage. The search squadrons stood by on their air
fields round the coast ready to go out immediately on receiving a
call, among them Hudsons and Warwicks carrying lifeboats and
amphibian aircraft which picked up a remarkable number of air
crews in coastal waters. The marine craft units were equipped with
high-speed launches, many of them able to make 35 knots
and over, and they were based along the coast of Britain.
A crash call sent them instantly to sea, and neither weather nor the
belligerent interest of the enemy deterred their crews as they hurried
to the spot where aircraft had come down.
New Zealanders served in both branches of the rescue service, but
most of them were with the air squadrons where some fifty men
flew as pilots, navigators, and wireless operators during the last
two years of war. Flight Lieutenant W. C. K. Hender and Flying
Officers Mitchell,
Flying Officer J. Mitchell; born Camelon, Stirlingshire, 9 Oct 1914; master butcher;
joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
Hodges,
Flying Officer G. L. Hodges; born Port Chalmers, 6 Dec 1916; civil servant; joined
RNZAFAug 1941.
and Rhodes
Flying Officer E. G. Rhodes; born Auckland, 18 Nov 1912; traveller; joined RNZAFMar 1941.
were among those who did
good work with Hudson and Warwick squadrons. Flying
Officer Saunders,
Flying Officer A. K. Saunders, DFC, Air Medal (US); born Owaka, 26 Sep 1916; truck
driver; joined RNZAFOct 1940.
who flew a small Walrus seaplane, picked up
thirty-nine aircrew in the course of his many searches and patrols.
On one occasion he rescued an American fighter pilot by landing
his machine on a rough sea within ten miles of the enemy coast;
another time he alighted in the Channel at dusk in very rough
weather to pick up a British fighter pilot and, unable to take off
again, taxied towards the English coast in the darkness for over an
hour before being met by a high-speed launch just as the plane was
being swamped in the high seas.
Early in October 1944, Flying Officer Williams
Flying Officer H. N. Williams; born Auckland, 13 Oct 1920; farmhand; joined RNZAFNov 1941.
of No. 280
Squadron shared with his crew in an unusual experience. Off
Heligoland, they had just dropped a lifeboat to the crew of an
American Fortress bomber when two Messerschmitts attacked. One
was driven off but the second set the Warwick on fire, forcing the
pilot to land on the sea where the aircraft broke up and sank almost
immediately. The crew in their small dinghy were not sighted until
the following day when another Warwick, with Flying Officer
Rhodes at the controls, dropped a lifeboat in which they sailed for
seventeen hours across the North Sea in bitter weather before being
finally picked up.
The crews of the ‘Met’ aircraft deserve special mention. Day
after day they continued their unspectacular but invaluable work,
providing information of great importance not only to the other
air commands but also to all the Allied military services. No little
skill and a measure of quiet courage were needed to complete a
‘routine’ sortie far out over the Atlantic on a winter's day. The
vital feature of the ‘Met’ flights was, in fact, the regularity with
which they were flown so that a constant weather guard could be
maintained from the Arctic to the Azores. But the activities of the
‘Met’ squadrons were not entirely confined to observations of the
weather. Engagements with enemy aircraft were not infrequent and
at least one German machine is known to have been destroyed;
thirty-six U-boats were also reported and several attacked. Among
the New Zealanders who achieved a long record of service in these
duties were Flight Lieutenant Johnston,
Flight Lieutenant B. G. Johnston; born Cromwell, 8 Jan 1918; clerk; joined RNZAFAug 1940.
who had flown from
Iceland earlier in the war, Flight Lieutenant Mettam,
Flight Lieutenant J. Mettam; born Auckland, 3 Mar 1909; storeman; joined RNZAFFeb 1942.
and Flying
Officer Patterson.
Flying Officer J. E. Patterson; born Wellington, 9 Oct 1921; plumber; joined RNZAFAug 1941.
Thus did Coastal Command crews pursue their various tasks to
the end. The battle that they had to fight was peculiarly exacting,
with monotony, and the indifference it breeds, constant foes that had
to be fought unceasingly. Mile after mile and hour after hour the
sea over which the aircraft flew might stretch empty to the horizon,
yet at any moment the sighting of a tiny black speck and an unusual
flicker of foam or a radar contact would mean that routine vigil
would be exchanged for swift action. But whatever the task, whether
it was protecting a heaving convoy far out in the North Atlantic,
or searching the rough seas in the Bay of Biscay for the elusive
U-boat, or swooping through the mists of dawn or evening upon
enemy ships steaming along the Norwegian coast, pilots and crews
of Coastal Command continued to display the same resolution and
the same skill. The fiery terror of a raid on Berlin was not theirs
nor did they know the fierce flash of combat fought at 400 miles an
hour. The steady process of wearing down the enemy, of denying
him an element in which Britain has been supreme for half a
thousand years, was their task and well did they perform it.
CHAPTER 16
The Last Phase
By March 1945 the Allies were pressing in upon Germany from
all sides and it was clear that the end was at hand. The slender
possibility that the enemy's new air and naval weapons might delay
the verdict had been destroyed by the Allied bombers. On the Oder
and the Rhine the German armies had almost reached the point
of exhaustion. They might live for a while on the remaining stocks of
weapons, ammunition, and fuel but these would receive little
replenishment from a war industry already constricted by creeping
paralysis. The better part of Upper Silesia was in Russian hands.
The Ruhr was practically in ruins. Its production of coal and steel
was reduced to one-fifth of what it had been in the summer of 1944
and, owing to the dislocation of road and rail transport, a mere
fraction of this meagre output could be moved to the hungry
factories. Indeed, throughout Germany the manufacture of arms
and munitions was now being maintained only by the assembly of
components and the consumption of stocks. Yet in spite of this
imminence of complete collapse and final ruin, Hitler refused to
accede to the Allied demand for ‘unconditional surrender’ and,
under his fanatical leadership, the Germans continued to fight on
until their military organisation disappeared and their country was
overrun.
The crossing of the Rhine by the British and American armies
under Eisenhower was completed by the end of March, and within a
fortnight, having encircled and captured the Ruhr, they were sweeping forward into the heart of Germany. At times forward elements
were covering as much as a hundred miles in a single day. The
advance of Montgomery's Second British Army was typical. Crossing
the Wesei on 5 April, they reached Luneburg on the 18th and before
the end of the month they had crossed the Elbe and were moving
towards Lubeck on the Baltic coast. Meanwhile, an equally dramatic
advance had been made by the Russian armies from the north, and
by 25 April they had encircled Berlin. That same day units of the
US First Army linked up with the van of the Russian forces at
Torgau on the Elbe. On 30 April Hitler committed suicide in his
underground shelter in Berlin. Admiral Doenitz assumed his
leader's tattered mantle and within a week had accepted Allied
demands for complete surrender. Hostilities finally ceased at midnight on 8 May 1945. Thus did the war in Europe reach its climax-
aclimaxa climax which was to prove more tragic for the German people than
anything their famous Wagner had ever conceived.
During these last months Allied air supremacy was virtually
complete. On 24 March, for example, when the British and
American air squadrons flew over 10,000 sorties in support of the
Rhine crossing, they sighted fewer than one hundred enemy machines
in the air. The last great effort of the Luftwaffe had been made in
support of the German counter-attack in the Ardennes; thereafter
it offered no serious challenge. Although the Germans still possessed
a large number of Focke-Wulf and Messerschmitt fighters, shortage
of fuel and lack of trained pilots made it impossible for squadrons
to take to the air in strength. The jet aircraft, which operated on
low-grade fuel, might well have been a serious danger since the
Allies had nothing to match their speed, but they never appeared in
large numbers because of the bombing of their assembly factories
and the airfields from which they operated.
These airfields were easily identifiable by reason of their exceptionally long runways.
During March 1945 the remnants of the Luftwaffe in the West
were driven back to airfields and improvised landing grounds in
central Germany. There they stood in long lines, too cramped for
adequate dispersal against attack from the air, and without petrol
to fly them elsewhere. Reconnaissance aircraft discovered the
crowded airfields and in the second week of April more than 2000
of these grounded machines were destroyed by Allied fighters and
bombers. However, the disappearance and destruction of the Luftwaffe did not leave Allied fighters and bombers free to fly over
Germany unopposed. During these months the enemy increased his
anti-aircraft defences and concentrated them in the vital areas so
that casualties from this source continued to be relatively heavy. It
was, in fact, against a background of fading enemy activity in the
air and sharp opposition from his flak batteries that the Allied air
forces flew their final strategic and tactical missions over Western
Europe.
Royal Air Force operations were now mainly directed towards
helping Montgomery's armies during their advance into Germany.
Particularly impressive support was provided for the crossing of the
Rhine and the capture of the Ruhr. Several weeks before the ground
forces attacked, medium and heavy bombers began a sustained
campaign against bridges and viaducts in order to isolate the Ruhr
and prevent any troops and supplies from moving in or out.
Altogether nineteen bridges were attacked and, despite energetic
attempts by the enemy to keep them repaired, ten had been destroyed
and five rendered impassable before the actual assault took place.
Bomber Command made fourteen heavy attacks; the most notable
was delivered on 14 March against the railway viaduct at Bielefeld,
where a ten-ton ‘Grand Slam’ bomb shattered two of its spans and
other bombs wrecked the bypass which the Germans had been quick
to build when attacks on the viaducts began earlier in the campaign.
Railway centres and marshalling yards in the Ruhr were also heavily
attacked. In the first three weeks of March medium bombers from
No. 2 Group made twenty-three attacks against such targets at
Munster, Soest, Osnabruck, Hanover, Rheine, Borken, and Dorsten.
Bomber Command also made two particularly heavy raids during
daylight; in the first, on 11 March, a force of 1055 Lancasters,
Halifaxes, and Mosquitos dropped nearly 4700 tons of bombs on
Essen, and on the following day an even heavier attack was made
against Dortmund where British bombers dropped 4850 tons. Meanwhile fighters and fighter-bombers of Coningham's Second Tactical
Air Force made daily sweeps over enemy airfields and attacked roads
and railways leading to the proposed bridgehead in the area of
Wesel. On 21 March the fighter-bombers succeeded in cutting
German railway lines at forty places, while the mediums attacked
seventeen towns close to the Rhine during the day and any transport
that could be found by night. As the day of the assault drew nearer
the tempo increased, and to transport and communication targets
were added enemy batteries, fortified positions, and air bases – in
two days nearly 3000 tons of bombs went down on ten Luftwaffe
airfields in the vicinity of Wesel.
The actual assault across the Rhine began on the evening of 23
March. An hour and a half before midnight some two hundred
Lancasters bombed the town of Wesel which was Montgomery's
first objective. After the attack British commandos, who had waited
outside the town only 1500 yards from the aiming point, moved
forward and overcame the enemy garrison at a cost of only thirty-six casualties. Montgomery signalled to Bomber Command:
The bombing of Wesel last night was a masterpiece and a decisive factor
in making possible our entry into the town before midnight.
With the dawn, fighters and fighter-bombers of Second Tactical Air
Force took to the air. The fighters patrolled over nearby enemy airfields as well as the actual area of the ground assault; they also
protected the troop-carrying aircraft and gliders which arrived from
England during the morning. Fighter and medium bombers gave
close support to the advancing troops by attacking enemy positions
and batteries; they bombed any movement seen in the battle area
and, roving further afield, attacked traffic on the roads and railways
leading to it. Altogether on this first day some 170 enemy trucks
and motor vehicles, 39 railway engines, and more than 50 enemy
aircraft were reported destroyed by the Tactical Air Force.
During the next few days reconnaissance patrols, fighter sweeps,
and widespread bombing attacks on communications and defended
localities continued on an intensive scale. The expansion of the
bridgehead beyond the Rhine made rapid progress, and as the
German forces in that area began to fall back a large number of
targets became available for assault from the air. On the 26th convoys
of motor transport were discovered seeking to escape from the
neighbourhood of the battlefield, and against them fighter-bombers
of 2nd TAF flew over 670 sorties and claimed the destruction of
over 130 vehicles. Little was seen of the Luftwaffe but several
fighters were shot down by German flak. Bomber Command also
continued to assist the land battle by attacks on enemy communication centres. Six hundred and seven aircraft raided Hanover,
Munster, and Osnabruck on 25 March and two days later 300
bombers dropped nearly 1000 tons on a big railway junction at
Paderborn. Continually harassed from the air and with their supply
lines wrecked, the Germans were forced back in disorder, and by the
beginning of April the Ruhr had been encircled and the German
Army in it trapped.
As Montgomery's armies raced on towards the Elbe, 2nd TAF
continued to give them close support. Fighters and fighter-bombers
swept ahead of the advancing columns to attack enemy movement.
Their bombs and rockets were also employed with good effect
against airfields and fortified villages. Simultaneously, the medium
bombers were active both by day and by night harassing enemy
communications and bombing towns and villages on the line of the
advance where the presence of troops and transport was suspected.
Opposition by the Luftwaffe to these operations was negligible for
constant patrols were now maintained over enemy air bases. On
20 April British fighter-pilots shot down eighteen Messerschmitts
and Focke-Wulfs which they caught taking off from an airfield
near Hagenau. Towards the end of the month when Montgomery's
advanced guards crossed the Elbe, German fighters flying from airfields close at hand made a last despairing effort to harass the
advance. The weather was atrocious, thick cloud often as low as
600 feet obscuring the battlefield, making the task of our fighter
pilots far from easy. However, on 30 April, in a battle brisker than
had been fought for many a long day, they claimed thirty-seven
enemy machines destroyed.
By the beginning of May panic-stricken German leaders were
trying to escape in ships from the Baltic ports of Lubeck and Kiel.
Second TAF aircraft attacked the convoys with notable success; in
one raid on 3 May, seventeen ships were reported sunk and over
a hundred damaged.
Bomber Command supported the advance to the Elbe by a series
of accurate attacks on enemy road and rail centres and pockets of
resistance. For example, during the first week of April the city of
Nordhausen in central Germany, which had been converted into
something of a stronghold, received over 2000 tons of bombs in two
successive daylight raids, while on the night of the 14th over 2800
tons went down on the marshalling yards and military barracks at
Potsdam; similar attacks fell on the marshalling yards at Leipzig,
Bayreuth, and Nuremberg. A few days later the island of Heligoland,
whose heavy batteries dominated the sea approaches to Bremen and
Hamburg, was attacked by 953 heavy bombers and almost
obliterated. Then, towards the end of the month, Montgomery
asked for Bomber Command support in his final assault on Bremen
and 757 aircraft were despatched to bomb strongpoints, barracks,
and camps; although low cloud prevented more than half this force
from attacking, the effect was apparently sufficient as the city
capitulated within a few days.
Simultaneously with these army support operations the British
bombers made their final attacks of the oil campaign. By the time
the Allies crossed the Rhine the German oil industry was on the
verge of collapse, so that Bomber Command's missions consisted
mainly of policing attacks on plants already heavily bombed and
raids against storage depots still in enemy hands. By 18 April all
but six of the major oil plants had been captured and these six were
still out of action. British bombers also made several heavy attacks
on the north German ports during April and as a result four major
warships were put out of action, several U-boats and a substantial
tonnage of shipping were sunk, and widespread damage inflicted
on docks and building yards. In one raid on Kiel the cruiser Emden
and the heavy cruiser Admiral Hipper were so badly hit that they
were subsequently written off while the pocket battleship Admiral
Scheer was capsized.
Towards the end of April, with the Allied armies advancing
deep into Germany, there were no targets left for the strategic air
forces. Therefore, on their final missions over Europe, the bombers
substituted food and medical supplies for bombs and these they
dropped on the starving Dutch cities and villages; they also carried
Belgian refugees back to their own country. Operation exodus-
bringing back Allied prisoners of war – was Bomber Command's
last major task, and during April and May 1945 no fewer than
75,000 men were safely flown to England.
The last phase of the war at sea saw notable activity by RAFCoastal Command. Along the Norwegian coast its Beaufighter and
Mosquito crews continued to seek out and attack enemy ships –
during April the Dallachy Wing in Scotland made seven successful
strikes against targets hidden in the various fiords, often in the lee
of steep cliffs. The Strike Wings also flew into the Kattegat by
day to harass shipping in that area. Then, in the last week, as the
remnants of the German forces fled from Norway and the north
Danish ports in every kind of craft, Coastal Command joined in the
final assault and inflicted severe damage on the crowded ships. In
one attack on 3 May, against a concentration of ships in the Great
Belt, Beaufighters sank two large vessels and damaged fifteen others,
one of them being the 11,000-ton Der Deutsche. Operations against
the German U-boats reached a similar climax. Patrols in British
coastal waters brought better results and by April 1945 Liberators by
night and rocket-firing Mosquitos and Beaufighters by day were carrying the war right into German home waters. On 9 April a Mosquito
wing sank outright three U-boats which were found on the surface
in the Skagerrak. On 4 May the Beaufighters went one better and
sank four. The following day Liberators operating singly accounted
for five more in the Kattegat area. By that time Coastal Command
crews had destroyed no fewer than twenty-five U-boats in just over
a month. ‘The crushing superiority,’ declared Admiral Doenitz in
an Order of the Day issued simultaneously with his order to cease
hostilities, ‘has compressed the U-boats into a very narrow area and
continuation of the struggle is impossible from the bases that remain.’
For several weeks after the cease fire, aircraft of Coastal Command
maintained patrols over the North Atlantic and the North Sea to
locate surrendering U-boats – they had been ordered to surface and
fly a black flag – and to make certain that none continued to operate
against Allied shipping. The last patrol of the war was, appropriately enough, flown by a veteran Sunderland flying boat which
landed at its base in Northern Ireland on 4 June 1945. Its crew,
which included men from Britain, Canada, Australia, and New
Zealand, was typical of many that had flown together on patrol
during the long years of the Atlantic battle.
* * * * *
Such were the final operations in which New Zealand airmen flew
with their squadrons in Bomber, Fighter, and Coastal Commands
and in the Second Tactical Air Force. Even in this short period their
achievements were many. For example, one group of eight Mosquito
bomber pilots each made fifteen trips to Berlin in less than a month-
andmonthandBerlin, be it remembered, was still a formidable target. It was
a New Zealand wing commander who led the RAF's first squadron
of jet fighters on the Continent; another wing commander led some
of the most successful of Coastal Command's final attacks on enemy
shipping, while a New Zealand Liberator captain sank one of the
last U-boats to be destroyed. Aircrew with Second Tactical Air
Force achieved a fine record of enemy aircraft and vehicles destroyed.
Typical spirit was displayed by a young night-fighter pilot during
the crossing of the Rhine when, scrambled from a forward base in
thick weather, he succeeded in intercepting and shooting down a
Junkers 188 at only 500 feet. Then, with all bases closed down by
fog, he flew across to land in England; the next day the weather
was still too bad for him to return to the Continent, but that night
he took off to patrol again over the Rhine bridgehead, where he shot
down a Heinkel 177 bomber.
Seven New Zealand squadrons continued to operate with the
RAF to the end. No. 75 Lancaster Squadron, which had now been
in action for over five years, made a substantial contribution to
Bomber Command's final raids with a total of 527 sorties during
March and April 1945. Cologne, Dortmund, Essen, Munster, and
Wesel were among the targets bombed before the Allied armies
crossed the Rhine and encircled the Ruhr. Crews met considerable
opposition from flak during these raids but only two aircraft were
lost – both of them whilst attacking the railway viaduct at Munster.
In April the New Zealanders took part in Bomber Command's heavy
raids on Bremen and Heligoland. Wing Commander C. H. Baigent,
who led twenty-one Lancasters to Bremen, tells how:
For weeks past the Squadron had been practising formation flying and
the boys could hold a really tight formation – for Lancasters! On the run in,
we received more than our share of uncomfortably accurate predicted flak.
There were bags of ‘Whoomps’, ‘Whoomps’, followed by ‘Cracks’ as pieces
of shell hit the aircraft. The boys did a marvellous job of work and rather
than break formation they closed in tighter still. They had been briefed to
bomb on the leader and as our bomb doors opened all the other aircraft
followed suit, and then they all waited for our 12,000 Ib. bomb to drop from
the bomb bay, which was the signal for all bombs to be dropped. One of the
pilots at the rear of the Squadron said it was an unforgettable sight. Twenty-one Lancasters in tight formation, all with bomb doors open, cruising steadily
up to Bremen, flak puffs all round, bombs poised, waiting for the leading
aircraft to give the bombing signal. As our 12,000 pound ‘Cookie’ fell away
a further twenty bomb loads of about 11,000 pounds each started their
journey to the Bremen docks. The noise when the whole load landed must
have been terrific. We got back to base without much further trouble to find
that every aircraft had been hit at least once by flak fragments and that five
machines were badly damaged.
The New Zealand Lancasters also took part in the two successful
raids on Kiel. Of the attack on the night of 9 April which disposed
of the Admiral Scheer, the Emden, and Admiral Hipper, the
squadron diary records: ‘Nineteen aircraft were detailed to attack
Kiel. Except for slight ground haze, visibility was excellent. A good
concentration of bombs was achieved and crews had a good “prang”.
Many fires and explosions were seen. Flak was moderate. There was
no fighter opposition. A further six aircraft went to Kiel this night
and laid mines.’ In the second attack, four nights later, twenty
Lancasters dropped bombs and leaflets and five laid mines in what
was to prove the squadron's final minelaying operation of the war.
Flying Officer Baynes
Flying Officer A. R. Baynes; born Ashburton, 5 May 1918; transport driver; joined
RNZAFJul 1942.
and his crew fought the squadron's last
combat on the night of 14 April when they were attacked by two
Ju88s. The German machines were eventually shaken off, but not
before the Lancaster had been damaged and the flight engineer
killed.
No. 75 Squadron's last attacks on oil targets were against the
Leuna synthetic plant at Merseburg and the oil storage depot at
Regensburg, both bombed by twenty aircraft. Flying Officer Wood
Flying Officer J. H. T. Wood, DFC; born Te Arawa, 19 Sep 1921; farm worker; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
and his crew had an unenviable experience during the raid on
Merseburg. Over the city their Lancaster was hit in the nose by flak
and set on fire. Although some of his flying instruments were
smashed and he was almost blinded by smoke, Wood managed to
keep control, even when flames reached his seat and burnt his face
and hands. The navigator, Flight Sergeant Pauling,
Warrant Officer J. A. W. Pauling, DFM; born Palmerston North, 10 Nov 1920; joined
RNZAFMay 1942.
fought his way
through the flames to extinguish the bomb aimer's burning clothing
and then put out the fire with his bare hands. Pauling's charts and
logs were destroyed, but he worked out a course for the return flight
and Wood flew the Lancaster back and made a safe landing.
No. 75 Squadron flew its last bombing raid of the war on 24 April
when nineteen aircraft attacked the marshalling yards at Bad Olde-
sloe. The operation was completed without incident, and crews
reported accurate bombing and no opposition from the enemy. When
the first ‘Manna’ operation was flown five days later to drop food to
the starving people of Holland, nine squadron crews were among
the force of over 250 aircraft which dropped 500 tons of supplies at
Rotterdam, the Hague, and Leyden. The crews reported seeing
enormous crowds along the route and in the dropping area, cheering
and waving to the aircraft. By the time Germany capitulated the
squadron had flown 126 sorties on ‘Manna’ operations. This was
not the end of flights to the Continent for No. 75 now took its part
in the task of bringing back Allied prisoners of war. Within eighteen
days 2339 men were flown to England and 132 repatriates carried
home to Belgium.
No. 485 Spitfire Squadron, with Squadron Leader K. J.
Macdonald continuing as leader, operated with Second Tactical
Air Force. After six months on the Continent in which it had been
particularly prominent in dive-bombing attacks, on armed reconnaissance and bomber escort, the squadron was ordered back to England
at the end of February 1945 to re-equip with Tempests. Difficulties
then arose over the supply of these new fighters, and after several
weeks of frustration the squadron returned to the Continent on 19
April to resume operations on Spitfires three days later from a forward base in Holland. Thereafter armed reconnaissance was the
order of the day, and before the end of hostilities 103 sorties were
flown in which pilots scored many successes against rail and road
targets. On one typical day a locomotive was blown up, three others
were damaged, three motor transports and a staff car destroyed, with
other vehicles damaged. The squadron moved into Germany at the
end of April, flying its last missions from Drope airfield, near
Rheine.
It was unfortunate that No. 485 should be out of the front line
for part of these last months. However, in its four years of operations
the squadron had achieved an excellent record which included the
destruction, in combat against the Luftwaffe, of no fewer than 63
aircraft with an additional 25 probably destroyed and 32 damaged.
For No. 486 Squadron, which continued to fly with a Tempest
wing of Second Tactical Air Force, this last phase of the war was
a particularly active and successful period. In ten weeks pilots flew
1029 sorties, during which they claimed no fewer than thirty-seven
enemy aircraft destroyed, together with a formidable total of enemy
transport. These results were not, however, achieved without cost.
Six pilots were lost, including the commanding officer, Squadron
Leader K. G. Taylor-Cannon, whose Tempest sustained a direct hit
by flak during a low-level attack in mid-April. He succeeded in
baling out, but two panels of his parachute were badly burnt and he
was fired at from the ground as he made his descent. His body was
never found. Flight Lieutenant Schrader,
Wing Commander W. E. Schrader, DFC and bar; born Wellington, 27 Mar 1921; accounts
clerk; joined RNZAFMar 1941; commanded No. 486 (NZ) Sqdn and No. 616 Sqdn,
1945.
one of the flight com-
manders, then took charge, but early in May he left to lead No. 616
Meteor Squadron – the first jet fighters with 2nd TAF – and was
succeeded by Flight Lieutenant C. J. Sheddan, who continued in
command until the squadron was disbanded.
During the crossing of the Rhine No. 486 Squadron maintained
‘standing patrols’ over the Wesel area and in two days pilots flew
a total of seventy-two sorties; no enemy fighters were encountered.
On being relieved from this duty the Tempests made successful
strafing attacks on aircraft on the ground, armoured fighting vehicles,
motor transport, and other similar targets. An unfortunate episode
occurred on the afternoon of 25 March while the squadron was
attacking enemy communications aircraft concealed in a wood near
the front line. Flying Officer W. A. Kalka's Tempest was hit by
flak and as he neared base his ailerons jammed, forcing him to bale
out north of the airfield. He came down in the River Maas and
was drowned, despite the courage of a Dutch girl who dived into
the river in an attempt to save him.
In April No. 486 Squadron moved from Holland to Germany,
first to Rheine-Hopsten, a badly bombed airfield where the
squadron's landing strip was ‘nothing more than 1,000 yards of sand
filled bomb craters,’ and then to Fassberg which, by contrast, was
regarded as almost luxurious. Thus, in spite of the speed of the
Allied advance, pilots were able to maintain armed reconnaissance
over a wide area ahead of the leading formations and also give them
close support when needed.
An interesting support operation was carried out by the New
Zealanders in the first week of April. Seven Tempests on an early
morning patrol over the Dummer Lake area were contacted by an
RAF liaison officer attached to the army, who requested immediate
help against strong enemy resistance in the vicinity of Leese – in
particular against German troops on one side of a railway embankment who were about to counter-attack the British on the other side.
The margin was small but, says an eye-witness, ‘the Tempests
formed up into line astern and one by one effectively strafed the
enemy while the Tommies lay only a few yards from the line of fire
of their cannon shells.’ The pilots then went on to strafe the village
and there was a huge explosion when a lucky hit on a corner
building blew up a petrol store. Another notable episode occurred
on 15 April. That morning nine Tempests were on reconnaissance
to the south-east of Ulzen when Schrader, who was leading, sighted
nine Focke-Wulf 190s. In the dogfight which followed all but one of
the enemy machines were shot down, and that one just managed to
get away after it had been badly damaged. Only one Tempest was
lost; the pilot, Flying Officer Evans,
Flight Lieutenant A. R. Evans, DFC; born Coromandel, 23 Sep 1923; seaman; joined
RNZAFJul 1942.
baled out six miles behind the
enemy lines and, surviving shots fired at him by German soldiers as
he floated down, took cover and later made contact with a British
patrol.
A fortnight later No. 486 pilots shot down ten enemy machines
during patrols to protect the bridgehead across the Elbe. The first
patrol of eight aircraft led by Schrader accounted for three FW 190s
and three Me109s; the second, led by Sheddan, destroyed three
FW190s; and the third, again with Schrader as leader, reported
the destruction of yet another Focke-Wulf 190. The squadron's run
of success continued into May and in the first four days a further
six enemy aircraft were shot down. In this last phase Squadron
Leader Schrader, with a ‘bag’ of nine aircraft destroyed and one
shared, Squadron Leader Sheddan, with three and two shared,
and Flying Officer Evans, who destroyed three and probably
destroyed a fourth, had been outstanding.
No. 486 Squadron's record shows that, during its three years of
operations, pilots destroyed 81 enemy aircraft in combat and
damaged a further 27. They also shot down 223 flying bombs and
in ground attacks destroyed 323 enemy motor vehicles of various
kinds and 14 railway engines.
No. 487 Squadron, flying Mosquito bombers and led by Wing
Commander F. H. Denton, continued to operate mainly at night
against enemy road and rail centres and troop concentrations near
the front line. A notable exception must, however, be recorded. This
was the daylight precision attack on the German Gestapo headquarters for Denmark which was situated in the Shellhaus building
at Copenhagen. The raid, which took place on 21 March 1945,
was launched in response to a desperate signal from the Danish
Resistance:
Military leaders arrested and plans in German hands. Situation never
before so desperate. We are regrouping but need help. Bombing of the
Shellhaus will give us breathing space.
Eighteen Mosquitos of No. 140 Wing, six each from No. 21
RAF, No. 464 Australian, and No. 487 New Zealand Squadrons,
were detailed for the task and they took off from an advanced base
in Norfolk. Denton, with Flying Officer A. J. Coe as his navigator,
led the New Zealand formation; a second crew was formed by
Flying Officers Peet
Flying Officer G. L. Peet; born Te Aroha, 3 Apr 1920; factory hand; joined RNZAFNov 1941; killed on air operations, 11 Apr 1945.
and Graham,
Flying Officer L. A. Graham; born Wellington, 22 Oct 1920; clerk; joined RNZAFSep 1942; killed on air operations, 11 Apr 1945.
while two other aircraft were
captained by Squadron Leader W. P. Kemp and Flight Lieutenant
R. J. Dempsey. Flight Lieutenant N. J. Ingram was navigator to
the commanding officer of No. 21 Squadron and acted as deputy
navigation leader of the force.
The Mosquitos, with their escort of Mustang fighters, reached
Copenhagen shortly before noon, and immediately swept in to the
attack. Direct hits were scored on the Shellhaus, and several bombs
were actually seen to bounce in through the windows on the ground
floor. Unfortunately one of the leading aircraft struck a large pole
and crashed in flames a mile from the target, where it attracted the
bombs from several of the following machines. Nevertheless, the
whole building was soon ablaze and in the confusion some thirty
Danish patriots escaped from their prison cells in the upper floors-
thefloorsthe Germans had placed them there as a deterrent to bombing after
the raids on other Gestapo headquarters in Europe. Later it was
learnt that about sixty Germans and Danish Nazis had been killed
and all their records destroyed.
The attacking aircraft had to fly out through a curtain of flak.
One of the New Zealand Mosquitos was hit and crashed as it
made towards Sweden; four others returned damaged – Denton's
machine was badly shot up and he had to crash-land on return, while
Dempsey was forced to fly the 400 miles back to base on one
engine. From the whole force four Mosquitos and two of the
escorting fighters were lost. By cruel misfortune one of them crashed
into a school in Copenhagen killing over a hundred persons, most
of them children. However, in spite of this tragedy, the Danes
signalled to London:
Sincere admiration your wholehearted co-operation Shellhaus bombing.
… Main building totally destroyed …. Regrettable accident wholely
understood by everyone here …. Congratulations and thanks to R.A.F.
On the night of the Rhine crossing ten Mosquitos from No. 487
Squadron were among the ninety-six medium bombers which
supported the ground forces by attacking enemy transport and
assembly areas opposite the British and American fronts. In the
following three weeks the squadron was busy bombing enemy
columns as they retreated eastwards from the Rhine towards Bremen
and Hamburg, but by the middle of April the Mosquitos were
almost out of range of the front line so the squadron moved by
air to Melsbroek airfield, near Brussels. A week later aircraft from
No. 487 were among the force of RAF Mosquitos detailed to attack
strong points in Bremen under mobile radar control posts before the
ground assault began. Six crews bombed in this manner and caused
a number of fires; the same night another six crews bombed and
strafed villages and marshalling yards and other railway targets;
one pilot who attacked a goods train saw ‘three or four trucks in
the centre of the train hurled off the line and then a pall of smoke
which rose to 600 feet.’
Bad weather now intervened, and No. 487 flew only three further
missions before the cease fire brought to an end what had been an
almost continuous effort against enemy communications and troops
since the squadron joined Second Tactical Air Force in July 1943.
Attacking at night, crews had rarely been able to observe definite
results and no accurate record of their achievements could be
compiled. It is certain, however, that in their attacks behind the
enemy front they played a significant part in the destruction of
vehicles, railway targets, and troops and thus seriously interfered
with the enemy's efforts to reinforce and supply his front line.
No. 488 Mosquito Squadron under Wing Commander R. G. Watts
continued as one of the leading night-fighter units with Second
Tactical Air Force. During March and April 1945, its crews flew
265 sorties and claimed seven enemy aircraft destroyed and one
probable, which brought the final figures on the squadron scoreboard to sixty-seven destroyed, four probably destroyed, and ten
damaged – a fine record in night fighting, especially since the first
‘kill’ was not registered until November 1943. During the last
months of the war the squadron's most successful crew was Flight
Lieutenant K. W. Stewart and Flying Officer H. E. Brumby who
destroyed five enemy machines. One night towards the end of March
they shot down a Messerschmitt 110 and a Heinkel 111 bomber in a
single patrol over the Ruhr; a week later they sent another bomber
down in flames after stalking it through the darkness for nearly
half an hour. No. 488 Squadron flew its final war patrols on 25
April 1945 when the last aircraft to land reported the destruction
of a Focke-Wulf 189 – a fitting end to the squadron's highly successful career.
No. 489 Beaufighter Squadron led by Wing Commander
D. H. Hammond and No. 490 Sunderland Squadron under Wing
Commander T. F. Gill played their part in the closing stages of the
war at sea. The New Zealand Beaufighters, flying with an RAF
wing, continued to be prominent in patrol and attack over the
Norwegian coast, while the Sunderlands flew their last patrols in
defence of shipping off the coast of West Africa. No. 489's record
of ships sunk and damaged has already been given. No. 490
Squadron's main achievement, like that of so many Coastal
Command squadrons, can best be measured in terms of Allied
ships saved from U-boat attack and the safe arrival of troops and
supplies at their various destinations.
CHAPTER 17
Mission Completed
The war against Germany was over but Japan still fought on,
and in order to hasten her defeat the RAF now pressed forward
its plan to move certain units from Europe to the Far East to reinforce those already engaged in that area. Some would go to Burma
and a group of heavy bombers, to be known as ‘Tiger Force’, would
operate from an island base in the Pacific against the Japanese
mainland. A new stage of intensive training was begun in June
1945, but before final preparations for the transfer were complete
the first atomic bombs had been dropped at Hiroshima and Nagasaki
and the war against Japan was also ended.
Three New Zealand squadrons were among the units originally
chosen to move to the Far East and a number of New Zealand aircrew
trained with RAF squadrons; but with the cancelling of the various
arrangements all thoughts turned homewards. Shipping was scarce
and in great demand so there were inevitable delays in repatriation,
but most men made good use of the time that remained to them in
Britain. Some took advantage of the Government's rehabilitation
scheme and spent time in study or with industrial or commercial
firms; others accepted hospitality in British homes or travelled to
visit historic and traditional spots in the Old Country. Most valuable
work was done by the small group of New Zealanders with the
RAF's Missing Research Unit which sought information regarding
the fate of men lost on operations.
Meanwhile the few available ships ploughed back and forth
until, within a year of the end of hostilities, the majority of the
New Zealand airmen were back in their own country where they
were glad to return to civilian life on the land or in city office and
factory. But not all - there is a story of two airmen who, after
celebrating their demobilisation in Wellington for two days, found
the prospect of civilian life so cold and forbidding that they turned
into the nearest recruiting station and rejoined. Of those men who
preferred to remain in the air service some chose to continue flying
with the RAF, thus maintaining the link which had been established
in the early days of the First World War. By 1950 some three
hundred men from the Dominion were holding commissions in the
Royal Air Force, playing their part as instructors, squadron com-
manderscommanders, test pilots, or as aircrew in important operations such as
the Berlin air lift and in the Malayan and Korean campaigns.
* * * * *
The record of her airmen during the war in Europe is one of
which New Zealand may well be proud. From the early days of
the battles for Norway and France right through the many air
campaigns to the final battle of Germany, they had, as Lord Tedder
remarks, ‘shown themselves grand comrades working with their
colleagues of the other Dominions and the Home Country.’ They
had rendered sterling service as leaders, as commanders of various
units, and as specialists in many fields. A high standard of personal
skill, determination, and courage had been displayed by the aircrew
while those who worked on the ground had shown technical integrity,
skill, and perseverance in full measure. By their general bearing,
fine physique and all-round efficiency, the New Zealanders had won
high regard not only in the RAF but throughout Britain. Here is
the message sent to New Zealand by the Air Council at the
conclusion of hostilities in Europe:
Now that the armed might of Nazi Germany has been laid low, the
Air Council send you their warm congratulations on the illustrious part
which New Zealand airmen have played in this resounding triumph. Many
New Zealanders were serving in the Royal Air Force even before the war.
The comradeship thus begun grew rapidly and before long large numbers
of New Zealand air-crew were serving with distinction in Royal Air Force
squadrons. They have brought honour to their country and to the Royal
Air Force by their gallant service in all theatres of war. With great foresight you developed your training organisation, you became a ready partner
in the Empire Air Training Plan which was to lay the foundations of our
air supremacy; in all this you held nothing back, but gave to the limit of
your power.
All that now remains is to review briefly the achievements in
which New Zealand airmen may rightly claim their share.
What was the contribution of the Allied air forces to the defeat of
Germany? Much has been written on this subject in the post-war
years, but by far the most exhaustive and complete study yet made
is that contained in the United States Strategic Bombing Survey.
Here is the emphatic conclusion reached in its final report:
Allied air power was decisive in the war in western Europe. Hindsight
inevitably suggests that it might have been employed differently or better
in some respects. Nevertheless, it was decisive. In the air, its victory was
complete; at sea, its contribution, combined with naval power, brought an
end to the enemy's greatest naval threat - the U-boat; on land, it helped turn
the tide overwhelmingly in favour of Allied ground forces. Its power and
superiority made possible the success of the invasion. It brought the economy
which sustained the enemy's armed forces to virtual collapse, although the
full effects of this collapse had not reached the enemy's front lines when they
were overrun by Allied forces. It brought home to the German people the
full impact of modern war with all its horror and suffering.
Certainly the winning and the holding of air supremacy must be
considered the foremost achievement, for it was Allied command of
the air which made possible the campaign on the Continent and
which gave the heavy bombers their opportunity to wreck the
industries of the Reich. Until this supremacy was won Europe could
not be invaded; further, in selecting targets for the bombers, the air
commanders always had to reckon with the German fighter force and
the gulf between what ought to be attacked and what could be
attacked was always there and was often great.
The defeat of the Luftwaffe was a long, costly, and complicated
campaign. Its outstanding features were first, the winning of the
initiative by the RAF during the early years, then the combined
assault by British and American squadrons against German fighter
strength in the air and on the ground, and finally, the attack on the
synthetic oil plants which deprived the German Air Force of fuel.
The offensive against the enemy aircraft industry is now known to
have been less effective than was thought at the time. Recovery from
the bombing was remarkably quick even after the peak attacks of
February 1944. In the next five months the Germans more than
doubled their production of aircraft, and in September 1944 they
turned out no fewer than 3375 machines, which was twice the
number estimated by Allied intelligence at the time. Certainly the
attacks on aircraft factories and assembly plants warded off the
much larger increase which the Germans had planned. But machines
were not the limiting factor. It was the shortage of trained and
experienced pilots and of aviation fuel which brought about the final
collapse of the Luftwaffe.
In many respects the air battles of late 1943 and the spring of
1944 were critical for it was during those months that the German
fighter squadrons suffered heavy losses both in aerial combat and
from the guns of the bomber fleets, losses which virtually wrecked
Hitler's once proud and powerful air force. By mid-1944 the best
German pilots were dead or crippled; they could not be replaced,
for Germany was never again able to provide proper training even
though she could produce the aircraft.
The second outstanding achievement of Allied air power was its
disruption of the German war economy. Here the main contributing
factors were the RAF's long campaign against industrial cities and
the final assault by both American and British bombers against enemy
transport and oil. It is now generally agreed that the oil and transport campaigns were by far the most successful features of the
combined bomber offensive, yet it is as well to remember that it
was Bomber Command's earlier attacks on cities which caused the
wholesale transfer and dispersal of German industry and thus
rendered it more vulnerable to the subsequent attacks on oil and
communications. Moreover, to have concentrated the attack solely
on these latter objectives would almost certainly have led to an
intensification of their defence and made their destruction a more
difficult task than it was.
But when this has been said it must still be admitted that a good
deal of the bombing effort, particularly that employed against
German towns in the later years, was misdirected. There is, indeed,
much to be said for the contention that the Allied air forces, while
not giving up the attack on industry altogether, might well have
begun the intensive assault on oil targets earlier than they did. Such
is the view of the compilers of the United States Strategic Survey.
Speaking of action by the American Air Force, they state:
As regards the timing of the bombing offensive it can be said that oil
production should have been bombed as soon as it became possible, opera-
tionally, to penetrate deep into Germany. This appears to have taken place
in February 1944 with the use of long range fighter escort.
British bombers working by night would not have needed fighter
escort, and operationally there seems no reason why their attack
on oil in 1944 could not have begun much earlier than it did. What
the effect might have been can be judged from the statement of
one of Germany's leading airmen, General Erhard Milch, after his
capture in May 1945. He said that ‘if the synthetic oil plants had
been attacked six months earlier, Germany would have been defeated
six months sooner.’ It is, indeed, an interesting speculation whether
the war might not have been shortened if someone who believed
as strongly in the offensive against oil as Sir Arthur Harris did in the
offensive against cities had been chief of Bomber Command in
1943-45.
The third major achievement of the Allied air forces was their
contribution to the success of the land campaign in Europe. The
German generals were almost unanimous in testifying that their
defeats had resulted above all from the Allies' air power. Allied
ground commanders, although sometimes critical of the mass
bombing attacks on the battlefield, were generous in their tributes
for the assistance they received. ‘The overwhelming superiority in
the air,’ says Eisenhower, ‘was indeed essential to our victory. It at
once undermined the basis of the enemy's strength and enabled us
to prepare and execute our own ground operations in complete
security.’
Undoubtedly the removal of the German air threat, the pre-invasion bombing and the wrecking of enemy communications, all
helped to make victory on the ground more certain. There was also
a superb co-ordination of effort between the advancing armies and
the supporting air forces. From the initial assault in Normandy
right through to the final battle of Germany, the tactical squadrons
gave invaluable aid through their reconnaissance and transport
operations, by covering and working with the forward troops and,
above all, by their incessant attack on enemy strongpoints, com-
munications, and supplies. The heavy bombers also answered
frequent calls for direct assistance on the battlefield, and it is as
well to emphasise that this involved a considerable diversion of
their effort from strategic targets, thus inevitably making the bombing offensive less effective than it might have been.
In the achievement of victory at sea the air forces, and particularly
the RAF, could claim a large share. No fewer than 339 German
and Italian submarines were sunk by Allied shore-based aircraft-
240 of them by the RAF - and a further 41 were destroyed in
conjunction with naval forces. The toll of enemy shipping was
equally impressive. Of the total tonnage sunk and damaged in
northern European waters during the war, over four-fifths was the
result of air action, either mines laid by Bomber Command or direct
attack by Coastal Command. In addition, German shipping movements were severely hampered and most of the German fleet was
finally disposed of by air bombing. All these were highly satisfactory
results, but it is necessary to record two less happy features of the
air war at sea, namely, the failure to bomb the German U-boat
bases in the French ports before they were encased in concrete and
the tardy allocation of long-range aircraft to convoy protection in
the North Atlantic. In the glow of later achievements it is easy to
forget the six million tons of Allied shipping sunk by the U-boats
during the black months of 1942.
Against the German V-weapons Allied aircraft enjoyed very
considerable, although not complete, success. Royal Air Force
reconnaissance gave timely warning of German preparations and the
Allied bombers and fighters delayed the launching of the actual
attack. When it eventually came, much of the sting was removed
by fighter patrols and by bomber attacks on the firing and supply
sites. But an end was not put to the nuisance until the armies finally
captured the launching areas.
Such, then, were the main achievements of Allied air power in
Europe. They did not by themselves win the war but they were the
decisive factor. They were attained only with difficulty and at great
cost in men and material. They depended upon good leadership,
courage and fortitude, and gallant action on the part of thousands
of young men, and upon the extraordinary progress made by Allied
research, development, and production. The failure of any one of
these might have seriously narrowed the margin.
Appendix I
PRINCIPAL EVENTS OF THE SECOND WORLD WAR
1943–45
(With particular reference to air operations in Europe)
1943January14–24Conference between Prime Minister, President Roosevelt, and
their Chiefs of Staff at Casablanca.21Casablanca directive issued by the Combined Chiefs of Staff
defining the primary objects of the combined bomber offensive.27First USAAF air raid on Germany – Emden and Wilhelmshaven
attacked by Fortresses and Liberators.30Mosquitos made their first daylight attack on Berlin (during
Goebbels' and Goering's addresses at the 10th anniversary
celebrations of Hitler's regime.)FebruaryMain Allied bombing effort directed against U-boat bases and
factories. Heavy RAF attacks on Lorient and St. Nazaire.2Remaining German forces trapped at Stalingrad capitulated.14Russian forces recapture Rostov.25Allied air forces commence ‘round-the-clock’ bombing. Over
2000 sorties in next 48 hours.28Norwegian commandos from Britain destroy German heavy-water installations connected with atomic research at Norsk
Hydro, near Ryukan in Norway.March3Knaben molybdenum mines in Norway attacked by Mosquitos
of Bomber Command.5–6Bomber Command's Battle of the Ruhr commences with an
attack on Essen. 442 aircraft despatched – first full-scale use of
‘Oboe’ results in the first effective attack on Essen.25Formation of RAF Transport Command.30The Battle of the Atlantic at its height. Record shipping losses
on convoy routes especially in North Atlantic, but long-range
aircraft achieve increasing success in that area.AprilFighter Command now mainly employed on escort duties but
attack on enemy rail and shipping targets continues.1General Sir F. E. Morgan appointed Chief of Staff to Supreme
Allied Commander to begin planning for the invasion of
NW Europe.
Battle of the Ruhr continues with fifteen major raids by Bomber
Command in April–May.MayHeavy attacks by U-boat packs in North Atlantic now defeated.
Aircraft of Coastal Command have destroyed 36 U-boats since
beginning of year.12–27Conference between Prime Minister and President Roosevelt
in Washington.13Allied campaign in North Africa ended.16–17Twelve RAF Lancasters attacked and breached the Moehne
and Eder Dams. Wing Commander Guy Gibson of No. 617
Squadron awarded the Victoria Cross.31The intense period of duels between Coastal Command aircraft
and U-boats in the Bay of Biscay commenced.June1Formation of Second Tactical Air Force based in UK for
operations connected with invasion of Europe.10Combined Chiefs of Staff issued a directive to RAF and
USAAF on the pointblank plan for destruction of the
German aircraft industry.20First shuttle-bombing raid by Bomber Command, target
Friedrichshafen. Aircraft landed at Algiers and attacked Spezia
on return journey to UK.22Rocket projectiles used for the first time against enemy surface
shipping by Coastal Command.July9–10US and British airborne troops land on Sicily followed by
seaborne forces on 10 July.17First aircraft landed on runway cleared of fog by ‘Fido’.24First of a series of large-scale raids on Hamburg which ended 3
August. ‘Window’ used for first time by Bomber Command.25Heavy RAF raid on Essen marks end of Battle of Ruhr.AugustRAF Mosquitos make 18 night raids on Germany, including
seven on Berlin. Heavy bomber targets include Turin, Milan,
and Genoa.1Air attacks on oil refineries and wells at Ploesti and Campina
made by US 8th and 9th Air Forces operating from North
Africa.3U-boats in the Bay of Biscay forced to abandon surface passage
owing to heavy casualties inflicted by Coastal Command.17US 8th Air Force attack on ball-bearing factories at Schweinfurt
and Regensburg. Of 309 aircraft despatched 60 lost.17–18First RAF attack on Peenemunde Air Research and Development Station. 597 heavies despatched, 1938 tons of bombs
dropped – 40 bombers lost.14–24Quebec Conference between Prime Minister and President
Roosevelt. cossac plan for cross-Channel invasion approved.SeptemberBomber Command targets include aircraft factories at Berlin,
Hanover, Munich, and Dunlop works at Montlucon.15–1612,000 lb. HC bombs dropped for first time by Bomber Command (Dortmund–Ems canal).22–23First use of ‘Spoof’ raid technique by Bomber Command.
Main target Hanover – ‘Spoof’ target Oldenburg.October8First Coastal Command units arrived in the Azores (Terceira)
to establish an air base.8–9Last operation by Wellingtons of Bomber Command.14Further attack on Schweinfurt by US 8th Air Force. 60 out of
224 aircraft lost.November10–11315 aircraft of Bomber Command attacked Modane, on the
Mont Cenis route into Italy.15Formation of Allied Expeditionary Air Force under Air Chief
Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory.
Fighter Command became Air Defence of Great Britain.18–19‘Battle of Berlin’ opened – fifteen major raids in next three
months by Bomber Command.28Teheran Conference began (President Roosevelt, Marshal
Stalin and Mr Churchill).December3Formation of No. 100 (Special Duties) Group RAF.20Commencement of attacks on flying-bomb sites.23General Eisenhower appointed Supreme Allied Commander
of Expeditionary Forces in UK. Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur
Tedder became Deputy Supreme Commander. General
Montgomery appointed Commander-in-Chief British Group of
Invasion Armies.1944JanuaryAttacks by RAF and USAAF against flying-bomb installations
in the Pas de Calais intensified.21Air Marshal Sir A. Coningham assumed command of RAF 2nd
Tactical Air Force.21–22German Air Force attacks on London recommenced (‘Baby
Blitz’).February9Allied bombing of French railway system began in preparation
for overlord.15–16Heaviest attack on Berlin by Bomber Command: 2643 tons of
bombs dropped. 891 aircraft despatched, 806 attacked, 43
missing.18RAF Mosquitos attacked Amiens prison to release French
patriots.23-24The ‘Big Week’ commenced. RAF and USAAF bombers
dropped 16,506 tons of bombs in a six-day series of raids on
the German aircraft industry.24–25Bomber Command and US 8th Air Force attacks on ball-bearing industry at Schweinfurt.March4First American bomber attack on Berlin.6800 aircraft in daylight attack on Berlin.24–25Last attack of the bomber ‘Battle of Berlin’.
50 RAF and Dominion Air Forces personnel murdered by
Germans after attempting to escape from Stalag Luft III.30–31Bomber Command suffered its heaviest losses in one attack.
95 aircraft missing out of 795 despatched to Nuremberg.AprilHeavy Allied air attacks on French railway system.5First of a series of 24 day and night attacks by USAAF and
RAF bombers from the Mediterranean on the oil refineries
at Ploesti. (Last attack 19 August 1944.9–10Allied air attacks on French coastal batteries began.11RAF Mosquitos attacked the ‘House in the Hague’.14Strategic bombing in Europe placed under the control of the
Supreme Commander Allied Expeditionary Force (General
Eisenhower) for operations in support of overlord.MayAir operations over the Continent intensified in preparation
for invasion. Heavy raids on rail centres, military depots, and
installations.11Allied air offensive opened against enemy airfields within
fighter range of Caen.12Attacks on German oil industry resumed by US air forces.30Allied bombing effort now concentrated against coastal
defences and key centres in Normandy and in Pas de Calais.June6D Day. Allied armies began landing in Normandy closely
supported by both Tactical and Strategic Air Forces.8–9First 12,000-pound DP bombs (‘Tallboys’) dropped by Bomber
Command (Saumur railway tunnel).9Allied fighters commenced operating from airstrips in France.10U-boats, having failed to penetrate Channel defences, began
using ‘Schnorkel’ to avoid detection and attack from the air,
but without success.12–13Bomber Command begins heavy attacks against Ruhr oil
targets.13–14First flying bombs launched against England.15–16Beginning of flying-bomb offensive proper. Between 11.30 p.m.
and 6 a.m. 95 crossed the British coast.16–17Bomber Command recommenced attacks against ‘Crossbow’
targets (flying-bomb and rocket sites) – period of intensified
effort lasted until 6 September 1944.JulyAllied air forces continue to operate intensively in support of
the invading armies.7Bomber Command dropped over 2300 tons of bombs on
enemy positions at Caen in 38 minutes.9Caen captured by British and Canadian forces.17Defences of UK against flying bombs re-deployed. New
deployment subsequently proved highly successful.18Bomber Command dropped over 5600 tons of bombs to assist
British offensive south-east of Caen.20Attempted assassination of Hitler by German Army officers.24Campaign in Normandy officially ended.24–25Bomber Command offensive against German industrial cities
resumed (Stuttgart).251500 aircraft of US 8th Air Force dropped 3500 tons of bombs
to assist American offensive in St. Lo area.30American troops entered Granville and Avranches.31American breakthrough at Avranches.August4Meteor jet aircraft first operational – against flying bombs.7–81018 aircraft of Bomber Command despatched against concentrations south of Caen in support of First Canadian Army.7–12Defeat of German counter-attack at Mortain, largely by air
action.8500 US heavy bombers attacked targets south of Caen to
prevent German forces escaping from the Falaise pocket.14672 Bomber Command aircraft attacked targets north of Falaise
in support of the Canadian Army.15Allied forces landed on coast of southern France following a
four-day intensive air bombardment and attacks by airborne
forces.17Canadian forces took Falaise. Retreating enemy decimated by
air attacks.18The U-boat threat to the sea communications of the Expeditionary Force considered at an end. During the period Coastal
Command aircraft had sunk 30 U-boats and shared in five
further kills with naval forces.20First bridgehead across the Seine established by American
forces at Mantes.23Paris liberated, organised enemy resistance ceased on 25th.25Bridgeheads across the Lower Seine established by British
forces.27First daylight attack by Bomber Command aircraft on Ruhr
oil plants.27–28Between dusk on 27th and dusk on 28th, defences destroyed
87 flying bombs out of 97 approaching England. Only four
reached London.SeptemberStrategic air forces intensify their assault on German industrial
centres and oil plants.3British forces liberated Brussels.4Antwerp occupied by British troops.8First V-2 rockets fired on Western Front fell in the suburbs
of London and Paris.10Large-scale attack by Bomber Command on Le Havre; further
attack on 11 September.11–16Conference in Quebec between Prime Minister and President
Roosevelt.15Strategic air forces in Europe reverted to the control of the
Combined Chiefs of Staff.17First Allied Airborne Army landed in Holland at Arnhem and
Nijmegen.23–24RAF Bomber Command breached the Dortmund–Ems canal
with 12,000-pound bombs.25–26Withdrawal of First Allied Airborne Army from Arnhem –
2163 men returned, about 7000 killed, wounded, and missing.OctoberHeavy attacks on Ruhr cities by Bomber Command.3RAF Bomber Command breached the Dyke near Westkapelle
on Walcheren.7RAF Bomber Command breached Kembs Dam on the Upper
Rhine north of Basle to assist the US Army.14–15Heaviest attack of war by Bomber Command on German
territory. 1576 aircraft dropped 5453 tons of bombs – also
largest tonnage on a single target at night, 4547 tons on
Duisburg.15AEAF disbanded; Air Staff SHAEF formed. ADGB became
Fighter Command again.31Gestapo HQ at Aarhus, Denmark, destroyed by RAF Mosquitos.November1Allied amphibious forces attacked Walcheren.4–5Dortmund–Ems canal again breached by Bomber Command.9Capture of Walcheren completed.
Over 2300 tons of bombs dropped on targets near Metz and
Thionville by Allied Air Forces in support of Third Army
offensive in the Metz-Nancy area.12Tirpitz sunk by Lancasters of Bomber Command in Tromso
Fiord with 12,000-pound bombs.16American offensive towards Cologne after Duren, Julich, and
Heinsburg had been attacked by RAF Bomber Command, and
Eschweiler and Duren by US 8th Air Force.28Port of Antwerp reopened to traffic.December16German counter-attack in the Ardennes sector opens.24RAF and USAAF heavy bombers flew over 2000 sorties against
German airfields.26Deepest German penetration during Ardennes offensive –
60 miles (near Celles).27Large attacks continued to be made by Allied air forces on the
Ardennes salient. Bastogne relieved.31RAF bombed Gestapo HQ in Oslo.1945JanuaryOffensive against German oil plants increases.1German Air Force attack on Allied airfields in Belgium, 155
British and American operational aircraft destroyed and 135
damaged. 193 enemy aircraft destroyed by air action and by
AA fire.1–2Dortmund–Ems canal and the Mittelland canal breached by
Bomber Command.26End of Battle of Ardennes.FebruaryStrategic air forces concentrate their attacks against German
oil and communications.4–10Conferences opened at Yalta between Prime Minister, President
Roosevelt, and Marshal Stalin.13–14Bomber Command and 8th Air Force attacked Dresden in
support of Russian front and Chemnitz on following night.20–21First of 36 consecutive night raids made by RAF Mosquitos
on Berlin.21Allied Strategic and Tactical Air Forces began intensified
campaign against enemy transport and communications
preparatory to the Rhine crossing.March11Bomber Command dropped 4680 tons of HE on Essen.12Bomber Command attacked Dortmund with 4851 tons of HE.
Heaviest tonnage dropped on one target in one day.14RAF attacked and destroyed Bielefeld Viaduct with 22,000-pound DP bombs (‘Grand Slam’). First time used.18Largest daylight raid on Berlin – 1300 sorties by US 8th Air
Force dropping 2500 tons of bombs.21RAF Mosquito attack on Gestapo HQ at Copenhagen.24Crossing of the Lower Rhine near Wesel preceded by heavy
air onslaught and accompanied by airborne landings – 8000
aircraft and 1300 glider sorties.27RAF aircraft attacked U-boat shelters at Farge using 10-ton
bombs.
Last rocket (V-2) fell on England.31End of Commonwealth Air Training Scheme announced.April1Encirclement of Ruhr completed when US Ninth and First
Armies joined forces at Paderborn.9Coastal Command anti-shipping Strike Wings used in daytime
to attack surfaced U-boats on passage in the Kattegat.9–10Admiral Scheer sunk by Bomber Command during an attack on
Kiel.11American forces reached the Elbe.12Death of President Roosevelt.16Bomber Command daylight attack on Swinemunde resulted in
the sinking of Lutzow.17Low-level attack by RAF Mosquitos on Gestapo HQ at Odense
in Denmark.18953 RAF bombers attacked the naval base, Heligoland.20Last Allied air attack on Berlin.22Russian forces fighting in Berlin.24First operation on the Continent by RAF jet aircraft (Meteors).25Western Allied forces made contact with Russian forces at
Torgau on the Elbe.25–26Last attack by Bomber Command against oil storage depot at
Vallo, Norway.26First PWs repatriated by air, continued until 1 June, during
which time Bomber Command alone repatriated 75,000 PWs.29250 RAF bombers commenced food-dropping operations over
Holland. These operations continued daily with one exception
until 8 May.May2Russian forces captured Berlin.3Fall of Hamburg.7Unconditional surrender of Germany to the Western Allies
and Russia.8VE Day.June4Last patrol by Coastal Command. (Sunderland escort to inward-bound convoy across Atlantic.)
Appendix II
STRENGTHS AND CASUALTIES
[The figures given below for the RAF are taken from a British Government
White Paper entitled ‘Strengths and Casualties of the Armed Forces of the
United Kingdom’, issued in June 1946. The figures for the Commonwealth
Air Forces were obtained from their respective Air Departments.]
Royal Air Force
The strength of the RAF was 118,000 at the beginning of the war; this
was raised steadily to reach a peak of 1,012,000 in the middle of 1944.
By the end of the war a total of 1,404,000 had served in the RAF. Of these,
approximately 218,000 were aircrew and 1,186,000 were ground staff, the
latter including 219,000 members of the Women's Auxiliary Air Force.
Casualties in the RAF amounted to 112,296, including 76,346 killed or
missing. The casualties to aircrew alone were 65,727 killed or missing and
16,292 wounded.
The above figures do not include members of the Dominion Air Forces
serving under their own Commands or placed at the disposal of the RAF.
There were approximately 180,000 such men, casualties among whom
amounted to 31,784 killed or missing, including 14,600 Canadian, 7021
Australian, 1850 South African, and 2960 New Zealand Air Force personnel.
New Zealanders with the Royal Air Force
(RNZAF attached and New Zealanders in RAF)
StrengthCasualtiesKilledPWTotalTo Dec 19401,65020340243Dec 19413,980586123709Dec 19425,0851,4973121,809Dec 19438,4662,3194602,779Dec 194410,3753,0525403,592May 194510,9503,2855483,833
Appendix III
NOTES ON THE NEW ZEALAND SQUADRONS
No. 75 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Ake Ake Kia Kaha (For ever and ever be strong).
Date and Place of Formation: 1 April 1940 – Feltwell, Norfolk.
(A New Zealand Flight had been established at Marham, Norfolk, in
June 1939 to ferry Wellingtons to New Zealand.)
Squadron Commanders:
Wg Cdr M. W. BuckleyApril 1940 to November 1940Wg Cdr C. E. KayNovember 1940 to September 1941Wg Cdr R. Sawrey-CooksonSeptember 1941 to April 1942Wg Cdr E. H. OlsonApril 1942 to July 1942Wg Cdr V. MitchellJuly 1942 to December 1942Wg Cdr G. A. LaneJanuary 1943 to May 1943Wg Cdr M. WyattMay 1943 to August 1943Wg Cdr R. D. MaxAugust 1943 to May 1944Wg Cdr R. J. A. LeslieMay 1944 to December 1944Wg Cdr R. J. NewtonDecember 1944 to January 1945Wg Cdr C. H. BaigentJanuary 1945 to September 1945
Bases:
Feltwell, NorfolkApril 1940 to August 1942Mildenhall, SuffolkAugust 1942 to November 1942Newmarket, SuffolkNovember 1942 to June 1943Mepal, CambridgeshireJune 1943 to July 1945Spilsby, LincolnshireJuly 1945 to October 1945
Role:
From formation until the end of hostilities in Europe, No. 75 Squadron
operated as a heavy bomber unit of RAF Bomber Command. Equipped with
Wellingtons, it took part in the early bombing offensive against Germany,
Italy, and enemy-occupied territory. It also flew in the first thousand-bomber
raids. Towards the end of 1942 the New Zealand Squadron converted to
Stirlings and thereafter made a significant contribution to the Battle of the
Ruhr, the devastation of Hamburg, and the famous raid against the German
V-weapon experimental station at Peenemunde. In March 1944 No. 75 began
to exchange its Stirlings for Lancasters and was ready in time to participate
in preparation and support of the Allied invasion, the bombing of flying-bomb sites, and close support of the armies. In the later stages of the war
the squadron took a leading part in the offensive against German oil production and transport. No. 75 was also one of the foremost units in Bomber
Command's successful minelaying campaign.
First Operation:
27 March 1940Three Wellingtons dropped leaflets on Brunswick, Ulzen, and Luneburg.
Last Operations:
Last bombing raid: 24 April 1945Nineteen Lancasters bombed marshalling yards at Bad Oldesloe.Last war mission: 26 May 1945Seven Lancasters flew to Brussels with 71 Belgian repatriates. 120 ex-PWs were brought back on the return flight.
Disbanded: 15 October 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 75 Squadron flew 8150 sorties, totalling 41,247 hours, during which
21,630 tons of bombs and 2344 mines were dropped. A total of 45 enemy
fighters was almost certainly destroyed.
Decorations won by New Zealand members of the squadron included:
Victoria Cross1Distinguished Flying Cross88Distinguished Service Order6Distinguished Flying Medal17Bar to DFC4Conspicuous Gallantry Medal2
No. 485 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Ka whawhai tonu (We will fight on).
Date and Place of Formation: 1 March 1941 – Driffield, Yorkshire.
Commanding Officers:
Sqn Ldr M. W. B. KnightApril 1941 to November 1941Sqn Ldr E. P. WellsNovember 1941 to May 1942Sqn Ldr R. J. C. GrantMay 1942 to March 1943Sqn Ldr R. W. BakerMarch 1943 to June 1943Sqn Ldr J. M. CheckettsJuly 1943 to September 1943Sqn Ldr M. R. D. HumeSeptember 1943 to February 1944Sqn Ldr J. B. NivenFebruary 1944 to September 1944Sqn Ldr J. G. PattisonSeptember 1944 to February 1945Sqn Ldr K. J. MacdonaldFebruary 1945 to July 1945Sqn Ldr S. F. BrowneJuly 1945 to August 1945
Bases:
Driffield, YorkshireMarch 1941 to April 1941Leconfield, YorkshireApril 1941 to June 1941Redhill, SurreyJuly 1941 to October 1941Kenley, SurreyOctober 1941 to July 1942King's Cliffe, NorthantsJuly 1942 to January 1943Westhampnett, SussexJanuary 1943 to May 1943Merston, SussexMay 1943 to June 1943Biggin Hill, KentJuly 1943 to October 1943Hornchurch, EssexOctober 1943 to November 1943Drem, East LothianNovember 1943 to February 1944135 Airfield, Hornchurch, EssexFebruary 1944 to April 1944ALG Selsey, SussexApril 1944 to June 1944ALG Coolham (near Billinghurst, Sussex)June 1944 to July 1944ALG Funtingdon, SussexJuly 1944 to August 1944ALG Selsey, SussexAugust 1944Caen-Carpiquet, FranceAugust 1944 to September 1944Reume, FranceSeptember 1944Merville, FranceSeptember 1944 to October 1944Maldegem, BelgiumNovember 1944 to January 1945Gilze Rijen, HollandJanuary 1945 to February 1945Predannack, CornwallFebruary 1945 to April 1945Twente, HollandApril 1945Drope, GermanyApril 1945–
Role:
Equipped with Spitfires, No. 485 was a day-fighter squadron until March
1944 when it transferred to fighter bombing. Operated from England, based
at some of the most famous fighter stations, until August 1944 when it
moved to the Continent. There it flew in the fighter and fighter-bomber role
with Second Tactical Air Force.
First Operation:
12 April 1941Convoy patrol off Flamborough Head shared by six sections of two Spitfires.
Last Operation:
7 May 1945Patrol over Oldenburg by twelve aircraft.
Disbanded: 26 August 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 485 Squadron flew 10,717 sorties, totalling 14,494 hours. In combat
63 enemy aircraft were destroyed, 25 probably destroyed, and 32 damaged.
During the short period that the squadron was employed against ground
targets pllots destroyed some 70 motor vehicles and blew up 5 railway
engines.
Decorations won by New Zealanders with the squadron were:
Distinguished Service Order2Distinguished Flying Cross17Bar to DFC5Distinguished Flying Medal1
No. 486 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Hiwa hau Maka (Beware of the wild winds).
Date and Place of Formation: 7 March 1942 – Kirton-in-Lindsey, Lincolnshire.
Commanding Officers:
Sqn Ldr C. L. C. RobertsMarch 1942 to March 1943Sqn Ldr D. J. ScottApril 1943 to September 1943Sqn Ldr I. D. WaddySeptember 1943 to January 1944Sqn Ldr J. H. IremongerJanuary 1944 to December 1944Sqn Ldr A. E. UmbersDecember 1944 to February 1945Sqn Ldr K. G. Taylor-CannonFebruary 1945 to April 1945Sqn Ldr W. E. SchraderApril 1945 to May 1945Sqn Ldr C. J. SheddanMay 1945 to September 1945
Bases:
Kirton-in-Lindsey, LincolnshireMarch 1942 to April 1942Wittering, NorthantsApril 1942 to September 1942North Weald, EssexSeptember 1942 to October 1942West Malling, KentOctober 1942Tangmere, SussexOctober 1942 to January 1944Beaulieu, HampshireJanuary 1944 to February 1944149 Airfield, Castle Camps, CambridgeshireMarch 1944 to April 1944Newchurch, KentApril 1944 to September 1944Volkel, HollandOctober 1944 to April 1945Hopsten, GermanyApril 1945Fassberg, GermanyApril 1945 to May 1945Celle, GermanyMay 1945Copenhagen, DenmarkMay 1945 to July 1945Lubeck, GermanyJuly 1945 to September 1945
Role:
No. 486 began as a night-fighter squadron equipped with Hurricane
aircraft. Re-equipped with Typhoons in September 1942, was prominent
in south coast defence against sneak raiders until June 1943. Then flew
mainly as fighter-bombers until February 1944. Re-equipped with Tempests
in April and after D Day took a prominent part in defence against flying
bombs. After moving to the Continent in September the squadron was
employed on standing patrols and armed reconnaissance over Holland and
Germany with Second Tactical Air Force
First Operation:
27 April 1942Dawn convoy patrol off the East Coast by two Hurricanes.
Last Operation
4 May 1945Armed reconnaissance of Kiel area by four Tempests.
Disbanded: 12 October 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 486 Squadron flew 11,019 sorties totalling 13,350 hours. In combat
81 enemy machines were destroyed, 5 probably destroyed, and 22 damaged.
Pilots also accounted for 223 flying bombs. In attacks on ground targets
323 motor vehicles and 14 railway engines were destroyed, while 16 ships
were almost certainly sunk in port or at sea.
Decorations won by New Zealanders with the squadron were:
Distinguished Service Order1Distinguished Flying Cross20Bar to DFC2
No. 487 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Ki te Mutunga (Through to the end).
Date and Place of Formation: 15 August 1942 – Feltwell, Norfolk.
Commanding Officers:
Wg Cdr F. C. SeavillAugust 1942 to December 1942Wg Cdr G. J. GrindellDecember 1942 to May 1943Wg Cdr A. G. WilsonMay 1943 to January 1944Wg Cdr I. S. SmithFebruary 1944 to August 1944Wg Cdr R. C. PorteousAugust 1944 to December 1944Wg Cdr R. W. BakerJanuary 1945 to February 1945Wg Cdr F. H. DentonFebruary 1945 to August 1945Wg Cdr W. P. KempAugust 1945 to September 1945
Bases:
Feltwell, NorfolkAugust 1942 to April 1943Methwold, NorfolkApril 1943 to July 1943Sculthorpe, NorfolkJuly 1943 to December 1943Hunsdon, HertfordshireJanuary 1944 to April 1944Gravesend, KentApril 1944 to June 1944Thorney Island, HantsJune 1944 to February 1945Rosieres en Santerre, FranceFebruary 1945 to April 1945Brussels, MelsbroekApril 1945 to July 1945Cambrai, EpinoyJuly 1945 to September 1945
Role:
Formed as a light day-bomber squadron equipped with Ventura aircraft.
Transferred from Bomber Command to 2nd TAF in June 1943; re-equipped
with Mosquito bombers in August 1943. Role henceforth predominantly
night bombing attacks, but also took part in several special daylight precision
attacks.
First Operation:
6 December 194216 Venturas attacked Phillips radio works, Eindhoven, by day.
Last Operation:
2–3 May 194513 Mosquitos bombed Itzeloe, Heide, and Elmshorn at night.
Disbanded: 19 September 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 487 Squadron flew 3112 sorties totalling 7892 hours. As its aircraft
operated mainly at night, no accurate record of achievements could be
compiled, but No. 487's contribution to the campaign against enemy
transport and supply was certainly substantial.
Decorations won by New Zealand members of the squadron were:
Victoria Cross1Distinguished Flying Cross7Distinguished Service Order1Distinguished Flying Medal1Bar to DFC1
No. 488 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Ka ngarue ratau (We shake them).
Date and Place of Formation: 25 June 1942 – Church Fenton, Yorkshire.
Commanding Officers:
Wg Cdr R. M. TrousdaleJune 1942 to March 1943Wg Cdr J. Nesbitt-DufortMarch 1943 to July 1943Wg Cdr A. R. Burton-GilesJuly 1943 to September 1943Wg Cdr P. H. HamleySeptember 1943 to January 1944Wg Cdr R. C. HalneJanuary 1944 to October 1944Wg Cdr R. G. WattsOctober 1944 to April 1945
Bases:
Church Fenton, YorkshireJune 1942 to August 1942Ayr, AyrshireAugust 1942 to August 1943Drem, East LothianAugust 1943 to September 1943Bradwell Bay, EssexSeptember 1943 to May 1944Zeals, WiltshireMay 1944 to August 1944Colerne, WiltshireAugust 1944 to November 1944Hunsdon, HertfordshireNovember 1944Amiens-Glisy, FranceNovember 1944 to April 1945Gilze Rijen, HollandApril 1945
Role:
No. 488 was originally equipped with Beaufighters and operated as a
night intruder squadron over France and the Low Countries. Re-equipped
with Mosquito night fighters in August 1943 and posted south as defensive
night fighters. After D Day operated almost entirely over the Continent as
night fighters, achieving outstanding success.
First Operation:
2 October 1942Interception patrol over Ayrshire by one Beaufighter.
Last Operation:
25–26 April 1945Seven sorties flown over Germany.
Disbanded: 26 April 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 488 Squadron flew 2899 sorties, totalling 6689 hours, during which
67 enemy machines were destroyed, 4 probably destroyed, and 10 damaged.
Whilst employed on ranger patrols in 1943, crews also destroyed or damaged
some 40 locomotives.
Decorations won by New Zealand members of the squadron were:
Distinguished Service Order1Distinguished Flying Cross4Bar to DFC1Air Force Cross1
No. 489 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Whakatangata Kia Kaha (Quit ye like men, be strong).
Date and Place of Formation: 12 August 1941 – Leuchars, Fife, Scotland.
Commanding Officers:
Wg Cdr J. A. S. BrownAugust 1941 to October 1942Wg Cdr V. C. DarlingOctober 1942 to August 1943Wg Cdr J. S. DinsdaleAugust 1943 to August 1944Wg Cdr L. A. RobertsonAugust 1944 to February 1945Wg Cdr D. H. HammondFebruary 1945 to August 1945
Bases:
Leuchars, FifeAugust 1941 to March 1942Thorney Island, HantsMarch 1942 to August 1942Skitten, Nr. Wick, CaithnessAugust 1942 to September 1942Wick, CaithnessSeptember 1942 to October 1943LeucharsOctober 1943 to April 1944Langham, NorfolkApril 1944 to October 1944Dallachy, MorayshireOctober 1944 to June 1945Banff, BanffshireJune 1945 to August 1945
Role:
Formed as a torpedo-bomber squadron, No. 489 began training with
Beaufort aircraft which were to be replaced by Blenheims and finally
Hampdens before the squadron became operational. Early sorties were anti-submarine patrols and it was not until August 1942 that the squadron turned
to its role of search and attack of enemy shipping. Operating along the
Norwegian coast and in the North Sea, it then achieved notable success;
crews also flew air-sea rescue searches and anti-submarine patrols and
escorted naval vessels and merchant convoys. In October 1943 No. 489
was withdrawn from operations and the obsolete Hampden was replaced
by the Beaufighter. In April 1944 it joined forces with No. 455 Australian
Squadron to form the Anzac Strike Wing which operated with great success
during the last year of the war.
First Operation:
11 May 1942Anti-submarine patrols by three Hampdens off the west coast of France.
Last Operation:
21 May 1945Two Beaufighters flew anti-submarine patrols off the Norwegian coast.
Disbanded: 1 August 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 489 Squadron flew 2380 sorties totalling 9773 hours. By the end of
May 1944 crews had sunk 11 ships totalling 38,700 tons and damaged a
further 13 vessels. During the last year of war No. 489 flew as part of a
wing which sank 19 ships totalling 67,000 tons and 12 escort vessels; a
further 18 cargo ships and 49 escorts were damaged.
Decorations won by New Zealanders with the squadron were:
Distinguished Service Order2Distinguished Flying Medal1Bar to DFC1Conspicuous Gallantry Medal1Distinguished Flying Cross19
No. 490 Squadron
Squadron Motto: Taniwha Kei Runga (The Taniwha is in the air).
Date and Place of Formation: 28 March 1943 – Jui, West Africa.
Commanding Officers:
Wg Cdr D. W. BairdJune 1943 to November 1943Wg Cdr B. S. NichollNovember 1943 to October 1944Wg Cdr T. F. GillOctober 1944 to June 1945
Base: Jui, West Africa
Role:
Flying Boat Squadron engaged on anti-submarine patrols, convoy escort,
and air-sea rescue in the Freetown area. No. 490 was originally equipped with
Catalinas but later converted to Sunderlands. The first Sunderland patrol
was flown in the middle of May 1944 and the squadron continued to operate
with these aircraft until the end of the war.
First Operation:
2 July 1943Convoy escort patrol by one Catalina.
Last Operation:
6 May 1945Patrol by one Sunderland.
Disbanded: 1 August 1945
Effort and Achievements:
No. 490 Squadron flew 463 sorties totalling 4853 hours. In addition to
some fine rescue work, the squadron made a substantial contribution to the
safe passage of Allied convoys through West African waters. A New
Zealander with the squadron was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Appendix IVPrincipal British and German Operational Aircraft
(1943–45)
[The performance figures given below are those achieved in still air. It
should also be remembered that aircraft were often modified in various ways
and adapted for special tasks, when their performances varied from those
shown.]
RAFBombersAircraft Type and MarkNormal Cruising SpeedRadius of Action with Associated Bomb LoadTypical Bomb LoadArmamentBoston III200 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet500 miles with 2000 lb.Four 500 lb.Eight .303 inBoston IV210 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet750 miles with 2000 lb. 350 miles with 4000 lb.Four 500 lb.Five .5 inHalifax III215 m.p.h. at 20,000 feet1000 miles with 7000 lb. 520 miles with 13,000 lb.Two 2000 lb. and six 1000 lb. or One 8000 lb.Nine .303 inHalifax VI218 m.p.h. at 20,000 feet1080 miles with 7400 lb. 600 miles with 13,000 lb.As above or Two 4000 lb.Nine .303 inLancaster I and III210 m.p.h. at 20,000 feet1200 miles with 5500 lb. 500 miles with 14,000 lb.Fourteen 1000 lb. or Six 2000 lb. and three 250 lb.Nine .303 inLancaster I, III, and X220 m.p.h. at 25,000 feet1250 miles with 10,000 lb. 840 miles with 14,000 lb. 500 miles with 22,000 lb.One 4000 lb. and six 500 lb. or One 8000 lb. or one 12,000 lb.Eight .303 inMitchell II225 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet820 miles with 4000 lb. 475 miles with 6000 lb.Six 500 lb. or Four 1000 lb.Six .5 inMosquito IV265 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet800 miles with 2000 lb. 725 miles with 4000 lb.Four 500 lb. or One 4000 lb.NilMosquito IX and XVI245 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet900 miles with 2000 lb. 700 miles with 5000 lb.Four 500 lb. or One 4000 lb.NilMosquito XX265 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet935 miles with 2000 lb. 700 miles with 5000 lb.As aboveNilStirling III200 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet1000 miles with 3500 lb. 300 miles with 14,000 lb.Seven 2000 lb. or Eighteen 500 lb.Eight .303 inWellington X180 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet1050 miles with 1500 lb. 600 miles with 4500 lb.Sixteen 250 lb. or Two 2000 lb.Six .303 in
RAFCoastal CommandAircraft TypeCruising Speed and EnduranceAssociated Bomb or Depth-charge LoadArmamentBeaufighter180 knots-41/2 hours1 torpedo or 8 RP or two 500 lb. and two 250 lb.Four 20 mmCatalina III100 knots-141/2 hours2000 lb.Five .303 inCatalina IV (L/L)106 knots-151/2 hours1000 lb.Five .303 inFortress II140 knots-103/4 hours1750 lb.Six .5 inHalifax II130 knots-101/2 hours2000 lb.Nine .303 inHalifax III145 knots-10 hours5500 lb.Nine .303 inLiberator III145 knots-111/2 hours3000 lb.Six .5 inLiberator III and V (VLR)150 knots-16 hours2000 lb.Three .5 inLiberator VIII138 knots-101/2 hours3500 lb.Six .5 inLiberator VIII (L/L)138 knots-13 hours2000 lb.Four .303 inMosquito VI210 knots-31/4 hours 210 knots-5 hoursEight RP 1000 lb.Four 20 mm Four .303 inSunderland III110 knots-111/2 hours2000 lb.Seven .303 inSunderland V110 knots-131/2 hours or 15 hours2000 lb. 1000 lb.Seven .303 inWellington XII (L/L)140 knots-81/4 hours2400 lb.Seven .303 inWellington XIV140 knots-10 hours or 8 hours1500 lb. 3200 lb.Seven .303 in
Note: (a) Catalina and Sunderland were flying boats.
(b) L/L = Leigh Light; VLR = Very Long Range; RP = Rocket Projectile.
RAFFighters and Fighter-bombersAircraft Name and MarkMaximum SpeedService CeilingRate of ClimbArmamentBeaufighter VI-F333 m.p.h. at 15,600 feet24,500 feet7.8 minutes to 15,000 feetFour 20 mm Six .303 inMeteor I (Jet)445 m.p.h. at 30,000 feet42,000 feet15 minutes to 30,000 feetFour 20 mmMeteor III (Jet)476 m.p.h. at 30,000 feet44,000 feet14 minutes to 30,000 feetFour 20 mmMosquito VI378 m.p.h. at 14,000 feet32,000 feet9.5 minutes to 15,000 feetFour 20 mm Four .303 in (Four 500 lb. bombs)Mosquito XII (NF)370 m.p.h. at 14,000 feet35,000 feet7 minutes to 15,000 feetFour 20 mmMosquito XXX (NF)400–407 m.p.h. at 26/28,000 feet37/38,000 feet7.5 minutes to 15,000 feetFour 20 mmMustang I390 m.p.h. at 8000 feet32,000 feet8.1 minutes to 15,000 feetFour .5 in Four .303 inMustang III442–450 m.p.h. at 24,500–28,000 feet41,500 feet10.5 minutes to 20,000 feetFour .5 in (Two 500 lb. bombs)Spitfire IX (HF)416 m.p.h. at 27,500 feet44,000 feet6.4 minutes to 20,000 feetTwo 20 mm and Four .303 in or Two 20 mm and Two .5 inSpitfire IX (LF)404 m.p.h. at 21,000 feet41,500 feet6.4 minutes to 20,000 feetTwo 20 mm and Four .303 in or Two 20 mm and Two .5 in (One 500 lb. and two 250 lb. bombs)Spitfire XIV448 m.p.h. at 26,000 feet43,500 feet7 minutes to 20,000 feetAs aboveSpitfire XXI454 m.p.h. at 26,000 feet43,000 feet8 minutes to 20,000 feetFour 20 mm (One 500 lb. Two 250 lb. bombs)Tempest V435 m.p.h. at 19,000 feet36,000 feet5 minutes to 15,000 feetFour 20 mmTyphoon I-B405 m.p.h. at 18,000 feet33,000 feet6.2 minutes to 15,000 feetFour 20 mm (Two 1000 lb. bombs or Eight 60 lb. RP Units)
Note: NF = Night Fighters. HF = High Flying. LF = Low Flying.
German Fighters
Aircraft Type and MarkMaximum SpeedService CeilingRate of ClimbArmamentArado 234B (Jet)490 m.p.h. at 25,000 feet38,000 feet8 minutes to 20,000 feetFour or five 15–20 mmDornier 217J328 m.p.h. at 20,000 feet33,000 feet13.8 minutes to 18,000 feetFour 7.9 mm Two 13 mm .Four 20 mmFocke-Wulf 190A385 m.p.h. at 19,000 feet38,000 feet6.5 minutes to 18,000 feetTwo 7.9 mm Four 20 mmFocke-Wulf 190D420 m.p.h. at 21,500 feet36,000 feet7 minutes to 19,500 feetFour 20 mmJunkers 88c-5345 m.p.h. at 20,000 feet33,000 feet10.3 minutes to 18,500 feetThree 7.9 mm Three 7.9–13 mm Three 20 mmMesserschmitt 109G400 m.p.h. at 22,000 feet40,000 feet6 minutes to 19,000 feetTwo 7.9–13 mm Three 20 mmMesserschmitt 110G368 m.p.h. at 19,000 feet36,800 feet7.3 minutes to 18,000 feetSix 7.9 mm and five 20 mm or One 37 mm, two 30 mm, and two 7.9 mmMesserschmitt 262 (Jet)500–550 m.p.h. at 29,000 feet39,500 feet5 minutes to 32,000 feetFour 30 mm and 24 rockets
Note: Ju88 and Me110 were twin-engined. They were also the principal German night fighters.
German Bomber and Reconnaissance Aircraft
Aircraft Type and MarkNormal Cruising SpeedRadius of Action with Associated Bomb LoadTypical Bomb LoadArmamentDornier 217E240 m.p.h. at 15,000 feet585 miles with 4400 lbFour 1100 lb. or Two 2200 lb. and four 110 lb.Four 7.9 mm Four 13 mm One 15 mmDornier 217-M1300 m.p.h. at 18,000 feet500 miles with 4400 lb.Two 2200 lb. and four 110 lb.Four 7.9 mm Six 13 mm One 15 mmFocke-Wulf 200 (Condor)210 m.p.h. at 16,000 feet1350 miles on recce without bombs or 1075 miles with 3600 lb.Three 1100 lb. or Five 550 lb.Three 15–20 mm and three 13 mmHeinkel 111210 m.p.h. at 17,000 feet760 miles with 2200 lb.Four 550 lb.Seven 7.9 mm Two 20 mmHeinkel 177260 m.p.h. at 17,000 feet550 miles with 12,100 lb. 1300 miles with 2200 lb.Six 550 lb. and four 2200 lb. or Four 1650 lb. torpedoes or Two HS 293 glider bombsFive 13 mm Four 13–20 mmHenschel 129 (Ground-attack aircraft)215 m.p.h. at 6500 feet350 miles with 220 lb. 220 miles with 770 lb.Two 110 lb.Two 7.9 mm Four 15–20 mm One 30 mmJunkers 88-B3277 m.p.h. at 18,000 feet640 miles with 2200 lb.Four 550 lb. or Four 550 lb. and ten 154 lb.Six 7.9 mm or Two 7.9 mm and two 13 mmJunkers 88–S1290 m.p.h. at 18,000 feet350 miles with 1980 lb.Eighteen 110 lb. or Eighteen 154 lb.One 7.9 mm One 13 mmJunkers 188255 m.p.h. at sea level600 miles with 4400 lb.Ten 154 lb. and either four 1100 lb. or two 2200 lb.Three 13 mm One 15–20 mmMesserschmitt 110G280 m.p.h. at 18,000 feet440 miles with 2640 lb. 360 miles with 4000 lb.Four 110 lb. and two 1100 lb. or One 1110 lb. and one 2200 lb.Six 7.9 mm Two 20–30 mmMesserschmitt 210315 m.p.h. at 19,000 feet675 miles with 1100 lb.Two 550 lb.Two 7.9 mm Two 13 mm Two 20 mmMesserschmitt 410330 m.p.h. at 19,000 feet1000 miles with 1100 lb.Two 550 lb.Two 7.9 mm Two 13 mm Two 20 mm
Glossary
AACUAnti-Aircraft Co-operation UnitAC-in-CAir Commander-in-ChiefACSEAAir Command South-East AsiaADGBAir Defence of Great BritainAEAFAllied Expeditionary Air ForceAFCAir Force CrossAFMAir Force MedalAGSAir Gunnery SchoolAOCAir Officer CommandingAOC-in-CAir Officer Commanding-in-ChiefATSAir Training SchoolBAFOBritish Air Forces of OccupationBATFBlind Approach Training FlightBelBelgiumBEMBritish Empire MedalBOACBritish Overseas Airways CorporationBraBrazilCASChief of the Air StaffCBCompanion of the BathCBECommander Order of the British EmpireCEOChief Engineering OfficerCFIChief Flying InstructorCGIChief Ground InstructorCGMConspicuous Gallantry MedalCIChief InstructorC-in-CCommander-in-ChiefCMGCompanion of St. Michael and St. GeorgeCOCommanding OfficerCTOChief Technical OfficerDCASDeputy Chief of the Air StaffDenDenmarkDFCDistinguished Flying CrossDFMDistinguished Flying MedalDGEDirectorate-General of EquipmentDG of R and DDirector-General of Research and DevelopmentDG of PDirectorate-General of PersonnelD of ATDirectorate of Air TacticsD of PolicyDirectorate of PolicyDSMDirectorate of Servicing and MaintenanceDSOCompanion of the Distinguished Service OrderDTDDirector of Technical DevelopmentFAAFleet Air ArmFrFranceFTCFlying Training CommandFTSFlying Training SchoolGCBKnight Grand Cross of the BathGMGeorge MedalGrGreeceGRGeneral ReconnaissanceHolHollandKCBKnight Commander of the BathKGKnight of the Order of the GarterKBEKnight Commander Order of the British EmpireMAAFMediterranean Allied Air ForcesMAPMinistry of Aircraft ProductionMBEMember of the Order of the British EmpireMCMilitary CrossMed MEMediterranean and Middle EastMMMilitary MedalMUMaintenance UnitMVOMember of the Royal Victorian OrderNATONorth Atlantic Treaty OrganisationNorNorwayNZEFNew Zealand Expeditionary ForceOBEOfficer Order of the British EmpireOMOrder of MeritOTUOperational Training UnitPolPolandPRPhotographic ReconnaissanceRAAFRoyal Australian Air ForceRAERoyal Aircraft EstablishmentRCAFRoyal Canadian Air ForceRFCRoyal Flying CorpsRNRoyal NavyRNASRoyal Naval Air ServiceRusRussiaSASOSenior Air Staff OfficerSEACSouth-East Asia CommandSHAEFSupreme Headquarters Allied Expeditionary ForceTAFTactical Air ForceUSAAFUnited States Army Air ForceVLRVery Long RangeYugYugoslavia
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Verran, Sqn Ldr J. V., 252
Vlotman, Fg Off C. J., 230–1
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Wakelin, Flt Lt W. J., 407
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Ward, Flt Lt N. A., 35
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Wasey, Flt Lt W. H., 356
Watkin, Sqn Ldr B. L., 262
Watson, Flt Sgt K. J., 230
Watson, Sqn Ldr R. J., 256
Watt, Fg Off E. C., 222
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Wellington bomber, 20, 27, 46–7, 463
Wells, Wg Cdr E. P., 264, 300, 367
Westenra, Sqn Ldr D. F., 264, 299
Weston, Flt Lt L. T., 140
Wetere, Flt Lt J. H., 355
Wheeler, Wg Cdr A. B., 140
Wheeler, Fg Off D. W., 127
Whincop, Fg Off G., 305
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This volume was produced and published by the War
History Branch of the Department of Internal Affairs
Editor-in-ChiefSir Howard K. Kippenberger,
kbe, cb, dso, edAssociate EditorM. C. Fairbrother, cbe, dso, edSub-EditorW. A. GlueIllustrations EditorJ. D. PascoeArchives OfficerR. L. Kay
the author: Wing Commander H. L. Thompson, MA, served during
the Second World War with the Intelligence Branch of the Royal Air
Force. A former Auckland teacher and graduate of the University of
New Zealand, he was for some years before the war lecturer in English
and History at the Borough Polytechnic, London. He is at present on
the staff of RNZAF Headquarters, London.
r. e. owen, government printer, wellington, new zealand