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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-

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stations 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

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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.¹

At this time several New Zealand pilots, veterans of earlier campaigns, held senior posts in No. 2 Group, notable personalities being Group Captain Barnett,² 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,³ 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- tinctionin Iraq 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,⁴ 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,⁵ D. S. P. Smith⁶ and J. B. Wilson,⁷ who flew Bostons of No. 88 Squadron; Flying Officer Rutherford⁸ and Pilot Officer Willis,⁹ navigators with No. 226 Mitchell Squadron, and Flying Officer Hannah,¹⁰ who navigated a Ventura of No. 464 Australian Squadron.

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Mosquito pilots who undertook particularly hazardous missions at this time were Flying Officers Polglase,¹ O. W. Thompson² and Weston,³ flying with No. 105 Squadron, and Pilot Officer McGeehan⁴ 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- ationsand 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 Trent⁵ and Wheeler.⁶ 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,⁷ and Sergeant Baker⁸ 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

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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- nightof 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

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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,¹ 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

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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,¹ 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

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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

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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,¹ and Canadian navigator, Flying Officer Thornber.² 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,³ 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

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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 Foster¹ 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,² – 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

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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 Coutts¹ and Baynton,² Flight Sergeant Goodfellow,³ and Sergeant T. W. J. Warner, who flew as air gunners, and Sergeant C. R. Smith,⁴ wireless operator, were also killed in action. Two other New Zealanders, Pilot Officer Taylor,⁵ and Flight Sergeant Sharp,⁶ both of whom captained Venturas, were able to bale out safely and were taken prisoner. Flying Officer Penn,⁷ 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

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sentry discovered the men waiting to crawl away into the shelter of the nearby wood and alerted the camp guards.¹

* * * * *

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’

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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

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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.

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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

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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

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Force was formed under Air Marshal Sir Trafford Leigh-Mallory¹ 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 Embry² 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 –

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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 Struthers¹ of No. 180 Squadron and Pilot Officer Gibson,² 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 Gabites³ flew as leading navigator with No. 464 Australian Squadron; Flying Officer Field⁴ undertook similar duties with No. 226 Mitchell Squadron. Flying Officer Forsyth,⁵ 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

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commanded by Wing Commander Wilson,¹ 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 Wallington² 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,³ 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,⁴ 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

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3 October when twelve aircraft, led by the station commander, Group Captain Pickard,¹ 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

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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,¹ an English pilot who had taken charge of a flight in October, with Flying Officer Mackay² 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

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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.¹ 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

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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

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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

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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's¹ 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,² 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. B