大象传媒

Chamberlain's solemn announcement on 3rd September 1939 that "We are now at war with Germany", was received by most listeners with sadness. But then I thought perhaps this would provide me with the opportunity to realise my boyhood dream of becoming a RAF pilot. However, the RAF showed no interest in my wishes, but when I became 18 years and three months they allowed me to join, but only as an u/t wireless operator/air gunner.

Naturally I kept re-applying for pilot training and then in December 1941 I was accepted. In May 1942 I made my first solo flight in a Miles Magister. I had elected to be trained in the USA and, amazingly, after much waiting and many movements I finally arrived in Georgia, USA, but flying training did not start until August 1942.
I enjoyed Georgia and it's warm hospitality. "And how d'yall like Georgia, huh"? "Ah jest lurv Georgia". But when we British cadets were joined by US cadets and were asked by me "And how d'yall like Georgia, huh"? the frequent response was "Georgia is the ass-hole of the 48 states"! Yet I think they too really liked Georgia. Nevertheless, the poor social standing of the 'Nigras' could not be approved by a Brit.

To cut a long story short, I received my US military wings in February 1943, and my RAF wings on return to England in March.
It was agreed after my insistent demands, that I could become a Bomber Command pilot. Still much more training on Airspeed Oxfords, including 'blind' take offs and landings in thick fog. (What a pity I never found a Lancaster equipped with a beam approach system, I really needed it on several occasions).
In September 1943 I crewed up with some splendid chaps to fly OTU Wellingtons, but after several trips I had to sack the navigator because, in my opinion, he could not navigate. I also sacked the next navigator for the same reason.

From OTU we converted onto Halifax bombers. A new navigator was found for me. He was straight from training in Canada yet he was a first class navigator. We made a good crew made up of Pilot Sgt Norman Rollin, Plt Off. Bill Chmilar (navigator)RCAF, Sgt Geoff Phillips (flight engineer), Sgt Ellis Murray (mid-upper gunner) (The last 3 mentioned joined us on the Halifax), Sgt Jock Pollock (bomb aimer) RCAF, Stan Hudson (wireless operator) and last but by no means least, Sgt Dennis Hornsby (rear gunner).

I was promoted to Flt Sgt on 27th February 1944 and commissioned as a Pilot Officer the day afterwards. Then on to RAF Wickenby to join No.12 Squadron. There we made 11 operations (now often called missions). In the crew room where, in addition to many aids about flying, there was a large board listing all the crews in order of seniority. Naturally, I started at the bottom ...It was surprising how quickly we moved up this ladder - one or two crews had departed, having completed their last operation, usually the 30th. (or perhaps they had been lost, but losses were rarely discussed). About 5% were lost on each raid, so on average one had a good chance of getting back to base safely. Look at it another way, it was like Russian Roulette where there were 20 chambers in the revolver with only one chamber loaded, so one had a good chance of disappearing on the way. So you would be lucky to complete 30 operations (we made 35).

Sadly, my Wing Commander asked me if I would mind moving to Special Duties Flight at Binbrook. I agreed (that was better than being ordered to go), especially as he said he had to send his best crew. I was already a Flying Officer (acting) and at Binbrook I soon became an Acting Flight Lieutenant. My navigator was then a full Flying Officer.

At Special Duties Flight, about 5 of us would go to mark chosen targets by moonlight, and the main force would bomb our target indicators. Usually I was first at the target to light up the area for the master bomber to drop his target indicators. We all 5 would carry flares and target indicators and hang around the area ready to stoke up with the appropriate colour T.I.s as necessary. I preferred flying by moonlight rather than flying in a black night. Of course, the German fighters also preferred moonlight (All the better to see you with, my dear) but then you can't have everything!

Unhappily, the flight was disbanded in August 1944, so we moved on to RAF Upwood to join No.156 Pathfinder Squadron. On Pathfinder operations my task usually was to illuminate the target area from a great height, compared with flights from Binbrook, and also drop bombs including a 'cookie' (a 4,000lb bomb),smaller bombs and incendiaries, all at the same time. There would be far more Pathfinders than our usual 5 at Special Duties Flight.
By December 1944, 4 of my crew elected to quit, without consulting me, having completed 35 operations. I had no heart to break in new members of my crew. We were all war weary, so I could not blame them, and I too decided to quit also. I would go back to an OTU to train others then come back to operations after a 6 month 'rest'. Then peace intervened ...

I have given a rough idea of the routine, but all the trips were exciting in more than one way. Despite how cool, calm and cold I was en route to the target, my temperature gradually increased as we got closer. There were many attacks by enemy fighters, but using the approved techniques and with an excellent rear gunner always ready to give me a good warning, though sometimes he was taken by surprise. Yet we survived. There were also many ground guns firing at us, and far too many bombers around, all at the target at about the same time, so there were collisions. The flashes of heavy shells in the air, peppering the aircraft, and many enemy searchlights picking out and cornering one of us so that the fighters had an easier shot.
Seeing the hell below with fires, explosions and some of our bombers burning in mid air was sickening as you can imagine. On the outward journey I would make a silent prayer for all those Germans that were going to die from our attack (I was a believer in those days) and I would add a rider 鈥渁nd if it鈥檚 our turn to go let it be a direct hit straight up the fundamental orifice鈥�.

There were many interesting occasions over the target. One was over Friedrichshavn (on Boden Sea, also known as Lake Geneva): We released our load of weapons from 18,000 feet when, suddenly WHAM and the starboard wing dropped and we were in a descending spiral to the right. The starboard engine propellers were wind-milling slowing the aircraft. I regained control, but we had to fly slowly home at 12,000 feet. It was later shown that we had been struck by a bomb from above.

Some of our operations were difficult for reasons other than enemy action. One evening from Binbrook we were first to take off so that I could light up the target area for the master bomber. Before the others had taken off, the operation was cancelled without my knowledge (they must not have noticed that I had gone.) Well over the continent the wireless operator brought me a note saying 鈥楻TB鈥� meaning 鈥榬eturn to base鈥�. I told him to clear off because he must have made a mistake. Later he brought another note saying 鈥榊ou are to return to base immediately. This is an order鈥�,
so I did. Back over Binbrook I discovered that the aircraft鈥檚 brakes were not working. We were diverted to Woodbridge in Suffolk where there was a very long runway so there should be no real problem getting down safely. However, having made a good landing I told the engineer to cut all engines but the cut-out switches produced no results. The engineer smartly started turning off all fuel valves (it took for ever) but the aircraft kept rolling on. Meanwhile the rear gunner called out 鈥淪kipper, there are two blood wagons and two fire engines following us on the port side鈥�. Charming!. I could see the end of the runway where there was a huge bank of earth. At the very end of the runway I opened the far starboard engine in the hope that we could turn left. The engine responded with a brief 鈥榖rr鈥� and then stopped, but we had turned and the silent aircraft kept rolling on along a perimiter track. There was a thick wood about 200 yards ahead. Luckily the aircraft stopped just 2 feet from the nearest trees. My crew disembarked and I followed down the steps. All the ambulance crew and fire-fighters were lined up and clapping. I blushed, for I should have done better. The medical officer took us to sick quarters where he brought out seven specimen glasses (Why on earth does he want specimens, I thought?) and then he poured out seven large helpings of cognac in the glasses and said 鈥淵ou deserve
迟丑颈蝉鈥�.

After another very long operational flight lasting 9 hours 55 minutes we found Binbrook fog-bound. We were diverted to another airfield but that too was fog-bound and had very tall aerial masts which I discovered on making a search at a lower height. So we were now diverted to another field much further south. My navigator gave me a course to steer saying that we should be there in 20 minutes. My engineer butted in with (鈥淪kipper, we have enough fuel for about 10 minutes鈥�. I told the crew to 鈥楶ut on parachutes鈥� but then I saw on my right hand side a runway clearly without fog. I smartly turned right cutting the engines and selecting full flaps. As we landed the fog closed in again. A vehicle turned up with a large illuminated sign saying
FOLLOW ME, and so to Aircraft Control. The controller said 鈥淵ou were lucky to get in here. We have had fog all morning鈥�. Much later before take-off the ground crew said 鈥淒id you know your tanks were quite empty鈥�. (You learn something every day).

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