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Spitfire Pilot, 92 Squadron, Desert Air Force (DAF), Italy (1944 ā€” 1945)

A ā€˜Spitā€™ Pilotā€™s thoughtsā€¦

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

Chapter 5: A quick swim, and back in time for football!

Many of the allied air bases were located along the Adriatic coast of NE Italy. They tended to fly over the sea to and from missions in order to avoid the enemy anti-aircraft batteries. Consequently, it was not uncommon for pilots to end up in the sea due to engine failure or ā€˜flak damageā€™. A number of Dadā€™s friends had this experience thereby winning ā€˜membershipā€™ of the Goldfish and Caterpillar clubs: the former for having saved your life using an inflatable rubber dinghy, and the latter for having parachuted to safety from a stricken aeroplane.

20/3/45

Duration 1.40: Attack on fuel barges on the River Po.

ā€˜I was just walking back from the mobile showers along the beach at the edge of the ā€˜drome with some other bods, when ā€˜Yorky Burroughsā€™ (fellow Spitfire pilot) drove up the road in a van and told the three of us to hop in pronto. We had to be in our ā€˜Spitsā€™ and on our way in a few minutes. Down at the ā€˜drome, we were told what we were to do by our leader, Captain ā€˜Jakeā€™ Jacobs. Basically, Jerry is carrying oil and petrol in river barges to re-fuel his armour and vehicles, and we were to search the rivers and canals on the NE coastal area until we found a cluster of barges worth bombing. We went off to our aircraft, started up, and taxied onto the runway. However, only five of the six of the readied aircraft actually got off the ground. One of the other chaps must have had an engine problem, and taxied back to the dispersal area. Once I was airborne I then discovered that my R/T was U/S, but I decided to press on anyway. However, with me not being able to contact the others in the formation, and vice-versa, it was hard going. Fortunately, as we gained height and crossed over the enemy front lines below, my R/T partly came back, but it was still very intermittent.

We soon found a line of likely barges, and three of the chaps went down and scored good hits on them. Then it started ā€” Jerry suddenly woke up, the sky was shot to pieces by flak of heavy and medium calibre, and he put up a screen of light stuff low down over the barges to protect them. Captain Jacobs then asked the remaining two of us who had not yet gone into the attack, if we would like to try ā€˜to go through itā€™ and attempt to bomb the remaining barges that were still left intact. We gave an affirmative ā€˜yesā€™, and the other chap went in first. However, heā€™s operationally tired, having been on this game for a few months now, and his nerves are not very good. He could not face that barrage of ā€˜flakā€™ and he released his bomb far too high and so did not aim it too well. I canā€™t blame him, it takes nerves of iron to get through this stuff. His bomb burst hundreds of yards away in the fields behind the river bank.

My nerves are still OK, and so I continued down to about 500 ft, and let go with my 500 lb bomb scoring a beautiful direct hit. The whole canal was heaving like a tidal wave, and two of the barges were half thrown onto the bank; I watched it all as I did a climbing turn away from the target. However, ā€˜Jerryā€™ very soon got my measure, and started hammering away at me with the medium and heavy stuff. I buzzed off out of the target area, engine flat out, and cursing Jerry over the R/T as I did. My R/T had now become serviceable, the violent manoeuvring of the ā€˜plane had probably jolted it back to life, and so the other four chaps flying above me heard my cursing, and thought I had been hit. I then heard ā€˜ Hodgyā€™ (Pilot Officer Hodge) say ā€œHeā€™s dropped a lovely bomb there, but I canā€™t see him nowā€¦!ā€ I shouted back, and I assured them I was OK by saying ā€œIā€™m on the south side of the river Po dodging flak, Iā€™ll join you at 7000 ft east of the targetā€.

I climbed back up, and we reformed and went towards Venice. We decided to look and see whether there were any more barges we could straffe, and then report on when we got back to base. Weā€™d only been ā€˜formed-upā€™ a couple of minutes when Captain Jacobs told us all to ā€˜ā€™Stay up highā€™ā€™ because he was just ā€˜ā€™going down to look at somethingā€™ā€™. Heā€™d obviously spotted something that was a likely target.

Now, remember the chap who did not take off with us because his aircraft had developed a problem? Well, if he had been with us, I should have been Jakeā€™s (Captain Jacobā€™s) No. 2, and so would have followed him down to investigate this new target. As it was, I stayed aloft ā€” and good fate was with me again. No sooner did he break formation and begin his dive, that Jerry let us have it with all types of flak. The whole sky around us became alive with it - we weaved, climbed, dived and turned, and threw the ā€˜kitesā€™ about to their limit, but still they continued to shoot at us accurately. Captain Jacobs was shouting over the R/T to ā€˜ā€™get out of it and head over the coast, out to seaā€™ā€™, but even as we turned out to sea, I heard him yell ā€œThe bloody bastardsā€. Then shortly after, ā€œmy oil pressure is droppingā€¦. Iā€™m heading out to sea flat outā€.

Looking backwards and downwards over the trailing edge of my wings, I spotted him way behind us and said over the R/T, ā€œI see you Jake, Iā€™ll come back to youā€. He replied, ā€œOK boy, ā€¦.thanksā€. However, just as he went over the coastline, he told us he was going to bale out. I told him to ā€˜ā€™hurry-upā€™ā€™, because there were white streams of glycol coolant pouring out of his engine where it had been hit by the flak. I wished him ā€˜ā€™Good luckā€™ā€™. He then rolled his Spitfire over on its back and tried to drop out of the cockpit, but he got stuck half way out; his legs were inside the canopy, and his body flattened against the fuselage by the slipstream the falling ā€˜plane. His kite was now diving into the sea and was down to about 1000 ft before he managed to struggle back into the cockpit and regain control. With the surplus speed of the dive he climbed back up to 4000 ft and succeeded in getting out of his aircraft on his second attempt. Almost as he jumped clear, the Spit seemed to shudder, burst into flames, and a few seconds later plunged into the sea. Jakeā€™s ā€˜chute had opened OK and he landed with a splash in the sea, not far from the patch of oil and wreckage where his kite had dived in.

I began to circle slowly, and very low above him, and realised he was now entangled in his ā€˜cute shroud lines and trying to get free; but at least his dingy was inflated and, after a struggle of a few minutes, he managed to detach himself from the tangle and get into it. I dived low over him a couple of times, and after a short while he waved back to me with both hands. I made several more dives at him and took pictures of him in the dinghy with my cine gun camera. I kept stooging around because I knew the other chaps had already radioed for help. Eventually, I saw a ā€˜Catalinaā€™ flying boat coming across the sea from the direction of our bit of coastline. It landed, and taxied across the water to Jakeā€™s dinghy and picked him up - so I took pictures of that too. Low on fuel, I made one more pass overhead ā€˜waddledā€™ my wings to them, and returned to base.

The Catalina amphibian landed at our ā€˜drome about 40 minutes later, and I was glad to see Jake was in one piece - I had thought that he might have got burned when his Spit caught fire. Jake played football with us in the afternoon - very foolish of him considering what heā€™s been through, but it certainly shows heā€™s got gutsā€™.

It is worth noting that a tiny gold caterpillar brooch, representing the silk worm, was presented to all allied aircrew who parachuted to safety. This was courtesy of the ā€˜Irvineā€™ factory that manufactured the parachutes. Caterpillars with ruby red eyes were given to those pilots whose aircraft were on fire as they baled out. The ā€˜Caterpillar Clubā€™, as it became known, contains the names of many top allied pilots in its long lists.

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