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Spitfire Pilot, 92 Squadron, Desert Air Force (DAF), Italy (1944 — 1945)

A ‘Spit’ Pilot’s thoughts…

Flight Sergeant/Warrant Officer Stanley (Mike) Widdowson: Spitfire Pilot, 92 Squadron 1944 — 1945.

Chapter 8: Tiger, Tiger!

The German Tiger tanks were formidable fighting machines; they were heavily armoured, weighing 55 tons, with an 88mm turret gun and two 8mm machine guns. They were virtually unstoppable with anything other than a direct hit from bombs or anti-tank ‘bazookas’. As a result they were a lethal battle machine, and hated by Allied ground troops. I remember Dad saying, ‘Firing our Spitfire’s machine guns at ‘Tigers’ was a bit like throwing pebbles at a rhinoceros, but we had a go at them all the same’.

13/04/45

Duration 1.10: Close support for ground troops west of Massa Lombarda area.

‘This is probably the best of all my trips so far!

We were sent out to do close support of the ground troops whose advance was been slowed by a determined enemy defence. As we went over the front lines I could see below the flash of exploding shells from ground fire, lots of smoke, and the bright bursts from flame-throwers. Suddenly, I spotted a Jerry ‘Tiger’ tank crawling along a road only a few hundred yards in front of our troops. The tank commander must have heard and seen us flying overhead, and he quickly took evasive action and tried to turn up a cart track to hide behind a farm house but, by banking my ‘plane, I kept the tank in view all the time. However, as it got to one of the farm buildings, the tank simply stopped, reversed, and bulldozed its way backwards through the wall, disappearing from view. It was a very clever manoeuvre to try and hide from us. I reported it over the R/T to the Flight Comm. (Flight Commander), but after a few seconds of looking from his ‘Spit’, he said could not see it. So I reported the tank to the army front line ‘radio chap’ and he said “OK, try to get it”. The Flight Comm. told me to go in front of him and lead him on to it. I got into position, lined up on the building which hid the tank, and made a very steep dive at the building, pulled my sight through the target and onto where the tank’s gun was poking out, and pressed the bomb release. Because we were attacking only just ahead of our troops, I had gone in as low as I dare to make sure I got a D/H (direct hit), but as I pulled out of the dive, my ‘kite’ was rocked by an explosion that almost put it out of control; it skidded and yawed a bit, and I thought I had been hit by some heavy flak. The next moment I knew what had happened. One of the other chaps behind me yelled over the R/T and said I had got a ‘’direct hit on the ‘Tiger!’’ and it ‘’had blown up’’. My 500lb bomb must have hit it smack on top and blown up the tank’s ‘ammo’ (ammunition) at the same time. When I flew back over it to look, I could see that it, and the building, were completely destroyed. Those parts of the tank that were still recognizable had started to burn: the fire was still going ¾ hour later when we eventually headed for home. It was probably the oil and petrol from the tank that had splashed far and wide and was now burning on the ground.

However, there was more to come: We spotted two more tanks making off across some open fields, but we had no bombs left. Instead we came in low and let them have everything we’d got: We all straffed them with cannon and m/guns (machine guns). This seemed to make little difference, so I came around again and lined the rearmost one up in the sights, and then let him have it a second time. However the thump-thump-thump from my 20mm cannon suddenly changed note and the ‘Spit’ sort of slewed sideways; one cannon had jammed, and the recoil from the remaining functioning one on the other wing was making the kite ‘jink’. I kept on firing and, by ‘steering’ the remaining cannon fire onto the fleeing tank, I made some good hits. This time, as the cannon hit home the tank slowed, did a neat ‘pirouette’, caught fire, and blew up! The remaining, leading Tiger had already taken a pasting from our other ‘Spits’, and was limping off at a very low speed; but now we had now used all our ammo, so we reported it to the ground control, and turned back to return to base. After we landed, the CO (commanding officer), and Captain Jacobs ‘laid on’ the congratulations - a job well done!’

14/04/45

Duration 1.05: Attack on an enemy building in the Medicina area.

‘This is my 50th operational sortie, bringing my total ‘ops’ time since 19th January to 70 hrs 45 mins.

After the ‘op’ this morning, I was told to ‘report in’ to the CO. When I arrived, there were some other ‘bods’ talking with him, and I was then interviewed by a Flight Lieutenant and a Squadron Leader who asked me about yesterday’s attack on the Tigers. They took my home address and name, and we went outside to have our photo taken with all the chaps who had been on the ‘op’: They photo’ed us all in front of one of the ‘Spits’. It appears they were very impressed with my job of work destroying that first Tiger tank, and are going to give the ‘show’ a write-up in the ‘Air Force News’. It seems like it’s a case of, ‘Local boy makes Good’!’

Dad did get his write-up, and he sent the news cutting back to his mother and father back in Thorne, Yorkshire, with the same words ‘Local boy makes Good’. The ‘Eighth Army News’ caption reads:

‘’Tank Killers: Following reports of the presence of enemy armour between Massa Lombarda and Medecina, a Spitfire squadron of the Desert Air Force attacked and destroyed four tanks, probably Tigers’’.

I guess four sounded better than three! Sixty years later the original photo taken by the reporter remains framed on my wall. It shows seven 92 Squadron pilots in full flying kit all standing in a line; some with maps in hand, some looking serious, some looking determined, and some simply smiling. The camouflaged nose of a Spitfire MkVIII looms up behind them. Major J. Gasson, and Captain ‘Jake’ Jacobs stand at the near end of the line, and Dad stands third from the other end with his hands in his pockets, a familiar pose, and at the very end of the line ‘Yorky Burrows’ grins boyishly. They all look so incredibly young but, sadly, not all of these photographed pilots were to survive the final two weeks of the Italy campaign unscathed.

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