大象传媒

鈥淭his story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Bob Davis from the Burgess Hill Adult Education Centre and has been added to the website on behalf of Goronwy Edwards with his permission and he fully understands the site鈥檚 terms and conditions鈥�

During the Battle of Britain some of the better shots among our fighter pilots destroyed two aircraft in one day. But eight months before that battle I achieved the same result.
Such a pity that they were both British.

At the outbreak of war on 3rd. September 1939 I was a pilot in No. 233 Maritime Reconnaissance Squadron, stationed at Leuchars on the East coast of Scotland, and we had just re-equipped with a new American aircraft.
The Hudson was three times as powerful as the stuff we鈥檇 flown before, had more than twice the gun power, three times the bomb load and twice the range. At last we would able to reach the Norwegian coast in our searches for German ships breaking out into the Atlantic, or returning back to the Baltic. But the Hudsons were so technically advanced that we found them a bit of a handful at first, and there were quite a few accidents, some fatal, though I walked away from my first one or, more accurately, waded away from it.
On 18th. October 1939 I was one of six aircraft detailed to get away at first light to search for a German merchantman which was expected to break out into the Atlantic as a supply ship to the pocket battleships which were wreaking havoc on our shipping in the North and South Atlantic.
It had been a misty night, with a hard frost, and my aircraft had been parked in the open, so was entirely covered with a thick coat of hoar frost. 鈥� completely unflyable.
鈥淚鈥檓 not taking this aircraft,鈥� I told the ground crew chief. 鈥淚鈥檒l take a reserve.鈥�
鈥淭here isn鈥檛 one, sir. They鈥檙e all needed for the next patrol.鈥�
But something had to be done as the other five aircraft had already started their engines and were taxiing out to the runway. If I dropped out it would leave a big gap in our search pattern, so I made do with getting some airmen with yard brushes on to the top of the wings to sweep away as much of the frost as they could. After a few minutes of their work I reckoned the wings were good enough for me to get the Hudson into the air.
In such a hurry that I omitted to strap myself in, I rolled down the runway and though the speed wasn鈥檛 building up as fast as I had hoped, I did get airborne. But before I could retract the undercarriage the remaining runway lights stretching ahead of me started to slide over to the right, then vanished completely. I flew into disorientating blackness, the speed would not build up, and I felt the left wingtip hit the ground. As I rammed on full right rudder and slammed the port engine into emergency power I became aware that Sgt. Hallam, my navigator, was leaving the cockpit for the relative safety of the cabin. I didn鈥檛 blame him one little bit 鈥� there was nothing he could do to help.
After that I don鈥檛 know which registered first 鈥� the violent impact, the endless shriek of tearing metal, or the enormous ball of flame as the petrol in the left wing went up.
鈥楾he rest,鈥� as Hamlet would have said, 鈥榳as silence.鈥� I took no more conscious part in the proceedings for a while 鈥�

It was dark and cold, but the sensation of undulation was pleasant. Sgt. Hallam鈥檚 voice, however, wasn鈥檛.
鈥淐ome on, you ****鈥�, 鈥淲e鈥檝e got to get out of this.鈥�
Wondering at his rudeness I continued to revel in the delightful, wavy motion, which fitted the Barcarole from The Tales of Hoffman to perfection. He鈥檇 got something, had old Offenbach 鈥� Tum tee tum, and rise and fall, and uuuuundulate togeeeether.
鈥淐ome on you ****, we鈥檝e got to get out of this.鈥�
****? Me? I鈥檇 have him on a charge for insubordination when I could get round to it.
The movements ceased to be soothing; became rough and violent, and I was flung painfully against an unyielding object. I demanded of the invisible world around me what the hell was up.
鈥淲e鈥檙e jammed under the wireless operator鈥檚 seat, and until you get off me I can鈥檛 get out.鈥�
鈥淚f we鈥檙e under the wireless op鈥檚 seat,鈥� I asked Hallam reasonably, 鈥淲here鈥檚 he?
鈥滺ow the hell should I know?鈥� snarled Hallam. 鈥淗e鈥檚 probably mixing it with the gunner back in the turret. Now will you, for Chrissakes, get off me.鈥�
鈥淪ir鈥�, a few seconds later.
Knew which side his bread was buttered on.
I extricated myself and gave Hallam a hand out. The floor of the Hudson seemed to be on a slope, and in the darkness the dim forms of the wireless op and air gunner appeared..
鈥淲here the dickens are we?鈥� I asked.
鈥淚n the estuary; sir. We鈥檒l have to wade ashore.
As we slid down into icy water which came up to our chests someone on the aerodrome fired a flare, and by its light we climbed up the steep bank to the aerodrome, got into the waiting ambulance, and were driven to sick quarters, where the MO checked us over and put us off flying for 48 hours.

Aching from head to foot, next day Hallam and I sat down to make out our accident report.
My efforts to clear the top surface of the wing, from which the majority of an aircraft鈥檚 lift is derived, had not been enough to give a good airflow over the wings, and our rough fur coat of hoar frost had slowed us down immensely. We never got up to flying speed, the left wing stalled and hit the ground, and we were all set up to dive over the edge of the aerodrome into the estuary of the River Eden at almost the same spot as where a good friend of mine had been killed a month or so before.
But the Gods were kind, that left wing had sliced into an Anson aircraft parked on the perimeter, reducing it to matchwood. The Anson got its own back by tearing off the wing, the ruptured petrol tank releasing 260 gallons of petrol to be ignited by the exhaust flame. And the impact swung us round like a Catherine wheel, to go backwards into the estuary, the water putting the fire out. And as I wasn鈥檛 strapped in, going in backwards probably saved my life.
A neater solution to my problems you couldn鈥檛 possibly imagine..

I never did put Sgt. Hallam on a charge for his insubordination. And a few weeks later the poor chap flew into a hill in bad weather, taking his crew with him.

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