大象传媒

On the night of Tuesday 18th July 1944, we went into briefing for operations for the night. We were members of A Flight who were deployed to go to Cologne. As I began to get out maps and charts for the Ruhr area, I noticed that our names were not on the Battle Order. When I queried this with my pilot, he said, 鈥淥h, there is a sprog crew on their first flight in B Flight who are due to go to Berlin. Rather than they go there, I鈥檝e volunteered for us to take their place鈥�. I felt a tingle go down my spine. Cynically, in the Service, one is told never to volunteer for anything! I didn鈥檛 subscribe to this idea, since I had volunteered for a second tour of operations. Nevertheless, I still had qualms about 鈥榮ticking my neck out鈥�. I did feel a little resentment at Doddie鈥檚 action without telling me about it beforehand. I expect I would have complied, but I would have liked the opportunity to agree.

After briefing, we made our way out to our aircraft to prepare for take-off. While I was checking my flight plan and the maps and charts, my pilot was carrying out the usual engine tests etc. Unfortunately, he found one of the engines u/s (unserviceable). This meant that we had to clamber out of our aircraft, send a member of the ground crew to get transport to take us to the reserve aircraft which was on the other side of the aerodrome.

In the meantime, all the other aircraft had taken off and were on their way. When we were finally airborne we were some ten minutes behind, at least. Time we could never make up, which meant that we would be 鈥榯ail-end Charlies鈥�. In other words, we were in a very vulnerable situation.

We found our way along the required route and at one stage, we were supposed to take a dog leg round G枚ttingen, which was heavily defended. To try to catch up some time, we decided to go straight across and take a chance. The ground defences must have been surprised by our manoeuvre and for most of the way, there was no opposition until just as we thought that we had got away with it, we suddenly found ourselves in a box of heavy flak. Shells burst all round us and suddenly a large piece of shrapnel smashed through the back window and lodged in the G Box by my left shoulder. A few inches to the side and I would not be telling this story.

Fortunately, there was no other apparent damage so we were able to continue. Very soon we reached Stendal which was our last turning point to the target. Ahead of us we could see that the raid was in full swing with searchlights and flak bursting in the sky and we were heading straight for it.
We still had a further ten minutes flight to reach the target area when suddenly we were caught in searchlights. Doddie took evasive action to try to get out of the terrific glare. Then, unexpectedly, the searchlights dipped. We thought we had thrown them off, but we ought to have known better. Unknown to us a night fighter had seen us and was now tracking us. As we were preparing to bomb the target, we were flying straight and level as was required when the sudden salvo of cannon shells smashed into the port engine and wing tanks setting them ablaze. The aircraft began to circle down out of control. 鈥淐ome on鈥�, said Doddie, 鈥渨e鈥檒l have to get out of here鈥�. I bent down to pull up the flap which covered the escape hatch but when I got up to my seat, I found that I was alone. Doddie had baled out of the top hatch. I couldn鈥檛 blame him because his seat and the side of the cockpit where he sat was ablaze.

The normal exit in emergency was below the navigator鈥檚 position and the top hatch was not to be used in flight because there was always the danger of striking the tall fin and rudder or the tail-plane. We used to try climbing out of the aircraft through the normal exit whilst on the ground, wearing our Mae West parachute harness, parachute and dinghy 鈥� we were supposed to evacuate in about ten seconds. We found it to be nearer ten minutes. So we decided between ourselves that in an emergency, if ever, we would go out of the top despite the hazard.

There I was, sitting in a blazing aircraft going down in circles. I did what any other man in my position would have done 鈥� a quick prayer, 鈥淕od help me鈥�. Suddenly the aircraft seemed to steady. I was able to reach behind my seat to retrieve my parachute where it was stowed. In those few seconds I remembered reading about a Mosquito navigator, who had baled out at the top of the aircraft and had rolled onto the starboard wing before letting go, and had safely parachuted to the ground. I did exactly the same. As I was swept away by the slipstream I pulled the ripcord. Then suddenly, there was a large white canopy above me and I was floating gently down. Just below I could see our aircraft in a field blazing away, and it still had a 4,000lb bomb on board! If it had gone up, then I would have gone up with it. But there it is. It wasn鈥檛 to be. My number wasn鈥檛 up.

I came down in a small copse of trees. I released my harness and fell into some bushes which broke my fall and I found myself on terra firma, albeit German terra firma. This was how I qualified to become a member of the Caterpillar Club. (This is a club whereby membership is gained in saving one鈥檚 life by using a parachute).

Eventually, after evading for two days, I was captured by a patrol of Volksturm who were actually looking for the crew of an American Flying Fortress that had been shot down that afternoon. I was later conveyed to Magdeburg where I was put in the civilian gaol until I was taken to Ober眉rsel to the Interrogation Centre. From here I was taken with about 180 other p.o.w鈥檚,
(about 20 British and the rest American), up to Stalag Luft 1, Barth, on the Baltic coast. I marched in on the 1st August 1944, which was my 23rd birthday, two weeks after taking off on my last flight.
Footnote: It was only many years afterward that I learned that my pilot had been killed by striking the tail of the aircraft when he baled out.

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