╨╧рб▒с>■  ЙЛ■   ЗИ                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            ье┴s ┐Эgjbjb└ └ %▄кkкkЭc      ]╠╠╠╠╠╠╠ИИИИИ Ф,И╜ *╘╘╘╘╘╘╘╘z | | | | | | ,ч Ї█ ╪и ╠╘╘╘╘╘и р ╠╠╘╘╘р р р ╘к╠╘╠╘z рT4T╠╠╠╠╘z р Ър z ╠╠z └╠n╗ИИ~bz Chapter XIII - We're Flying Flying Fortresses at Forty Thousand Feet We arrived at Downham Market on December 18, 1943, from Tuddenham, feeling somewhat miserable at leaving our friends of 90 Squadron where we had flown on 20 operations, and had looked forward to completing our tour. Our skipper, S/Ldr Bill Day DFC, took up the post of A Flight Commander. A tall likeable Canadian from Nova Scotia, Bill was an excellent pilot who had logged several hundred flying hours before he joined us. A perfectionist, he expected and got 100% support from his crew. In an emergency he could have filled any of our jobs; an ideal choice for Flight Commander. Like most crews in Bomber Command at that time, we were a mixed lot made up of UK and Commonwealth volunteers. Sgt John Morris, the navigator, was a quiet studious Welshman from Swansea, an unflappable type who inspired confidence and was respected by us all. In fact, John became the father figure to whom we all turned when any problems arose or a decision had to be made. Sgt Jock Fitzsimmons, flight engineer, a Scotsman and a regular serving airman, was the only married man in the crew. Jock had already proved his competence and reliability in early ops. P/O Don Beaton, bomb aimer, hailed from Blantyre, Nyasaland, and was a keep-fit fiend and even became the RAF Sports Champion. Don later was awarded a DFC with 214 Squadron. Sgt Jimmy Fenn, WOp/AG, was a cheerful and capable Londoner. Sgt Colin Mitchinson DFM, our rear gunner, hailed from Sydney, Australia. He was an exceptional gunner, with an Fw190 and Ju88 to his credit. I, Sgt Jimmy James, a midlander from Northampton, was the mid-upper gunner, the baby of the crew, having joined up at age 17. We were a happy crew, and also a lucky one. Each one of us was later commissioned and all survived the war. Five of us completed a second tour, and three were given awards, two DFCs and one DFM. Coming in as new boys to the Squadron, we had some misgivings as to how we would be received. We need not have worried, for the first person we met was Jake Walters, another Canadian pilot, who was with us at 26 OTU, Wing, where our two crews had shared the same Nissen hut. We had gone through Conversion Unit at Waterbeach together. It wasn't long before we met more old acquaintances and friends with whom we had served during training days. By the end of the first day we were feeling right at home in our new squadron. Downham Market seemed large after Tuddenham, and the station itself very dispersed. It was the home of No 218, another Stirling Squadron of 3 Group, and friendly rivalry existed between us. But the balance was always tilted in their favour when it came to squadron achievements, for one of their pilots, F/Sgt Aaron, had posthumously won the VC shortly before we arrived. It was around this time that there was much talk of taking the Stirlings off main force bombing and allocating them to mine-laying and short range operations. The rumour was particularly strong after the heavy losses sustained by 3 Group on the two Berlin raids in August 1943. Yet the Stirling was looked on with affection by the crews who flew in her. Although unable to carry a large bomb load, and with an operational ceiling of only 13,000 feet, with less speed than either the Halifax or Lancaster, she was much more manoeuverable than either of these aircraft. Like the Wellington, the Stirling could sustain the heaviest punishment and still remain airborne. It was generally accepted that we would shortly be moved to another airfield for conversion to Lancasters. Conversions were already underway with other squadrons in 3 Group under the so-called "ladder plan". For our part, although we were fond of the Stirling, we disliked running the gauntlet of bomb loads being dropped over the target by higher-flying aircraft. As, for example, on our first operation to Essen, when a bomb took away part of our tail plane, damaging the rear turret doors. It fell to my lot to extricate the rear gunner by cutting through the turret with an axe. So it was no surprise when at last we moved to Sculthorpe, Norfolk, on January 17, 1944. The mention of the plane we were to use, though, did excite us. It was to be the B-17 Flying Fortress. It had become obvious to Air Chief Marshal Harris' staff that, since August 1943, the Germans were gradually overcoming the effects of Window. Modifications were carried out to the Wurzburg ground radar within a few days of the first Hamburg raid. New techniques in night fighting were evolved. First came the Wild Boar system of putting single seat fighters into the bomber stream by the use of searchlights and Y-service ground control, which was a network of listening posts using W/T and not radar. This was followed by the Tame Boar system where complete fighter units were infiltrated into the stream, both on the inward and outward flight, with ground controllers giving a running commentary on the course and direction of the battle. Both these systems used the minimum of radar guidance, which helped somewhat to redress the balance in the defence's favour. Proof of this change came on August 23/24 when the attacking force lost 57 bombers on Berlin, and another 47 when the same target was bombed on the 31st. In these two raids the Stirlings of 3 Group suffered heavily.It was the beginning of the end for the RAF's first four-engined bomber. By the autumn of 1943, the Germans had also developed a device which would home onto the fighter-warning radar Monica, installed in the tail of British bombers; and an airborne receiver Naxos, which picked up the radar emissions from H2S. As the Germans hit back with these new counter measures, Bomber Command was forced to alter its tactics. Spoof and diversionary raids, false target-marking, and complex routing were some of the methods used. But it was realised that a specialist unit was required to deal with this new type of warfare, leaving the bomber squadrons to concentrate on the role for which they were equipped. In November, 1943, No 100 Group, Special Duties, Bomber Command, came into being. Its Commanding Officer, Air Vice-Marshal E.B. Addison, was an excellent choice for he had been CO of 80 Wing in 1940. There he had been involved in similar work, combating the German Knickebein and X-Gerat radio beams, which later became known as the Battle of the Beams, and was a complete success for British counter measures. The Group's headquarters were situated at Bylaugh Hall, Norfolk, and it controlled an assortment of aircraft types: Beaufighters, Mosquitos, Wellingtons, Halifaxes, Defiants and Ansons. There was no question of the urgency for getting the Group operational. A letter from Air Chief Marshal Harris to the Air Ministry in December, 1943, stated: "Overriding priority should be given to the formation and equipment of the Group, and priority in labour and materials over all conflicting claims." Why the Fortress was chosen by the RAF is something of a mystery, but one of the main factors must have been availability. The general layout was good. The radio cabin was large enough to accommodate a second operator, and the bomb bays could accept the large Jostle transmitter which would later be installed. This, combined with the B-17's altitude performance, must have influenced Bomber Command HQ in the choice of the Fortress as a radio counter measures aircraft. Sculthorpe, 214's base, was located in an isolated spot in north Norfolk, two or three miles from Fakenham, a small market town. But the townsfolk saw little of our crews in the following weeks as we embarked on a strenuous programme of training and familiarisation with the new aircraft. Our arrival at Sculthorpe coincided with that of a small 8th Air Force detachment which later became known as the 803rd Bombardment Squadron. It was staffed by tour-expired personnel who would normally have returned to the U.S.A. on completion of their service but had stayed on to teach us to fly and maintain our aircraft. This unit was commanded by Captain Paris. A period of exceptionally happy co-operation existed between us, just as it had in 1918 with the USNAS. We knew by this time that our bombing role was behind us, that we would be carrying jamming equipment, and have a German-speaking operator as a new crew member. Apart from this, we knew little of the specialist equipment we were to use. Our Squadron was now designated No 214 (Bomber Support) Squadron, 100 (Special Duties) Group. By the end of January, 1944, we had received the first B-17s and modifications were started which would continue until April. The first six Forts were fitted out with the ABC device, which was developed to disrupt the enemy's R/T control. It consisted of six scanning receivers and three transmitters, designed to cover the VHF band of the standard German Air Force R/T sets. After a few flights in the Fortress our morale soared. This was a plane with good characteristics and no brutish tendencies. Mitch and I were delighted with the 0.5 in. Brownings and their extra fire-power, but less impressed with the ball turret which was difficult to enter and leave. Once inside the ball turret, which was very cramped, one had to lie on one's back and look between the legs through a plexiglass porthole. Turret operating controls were placed near one's head. The only good feature was the Sperry computerised sight, which was unusually accurate and must have been of great use on daylight missions. It became apparent within the next few months that this turret was unsuitable for night fighting. This was proved in June when we carried out night tests with a Beaufighter fitted with A.1 radar. Shortly after this, much to our relief, the turrets were removed. Other alterations were also made. The oxygen system was adapted from low to high pressure, the throat-speaking microphones were changed to those of the RAF pattern, mufflers were rivetted to the exhaust pipes to screen exhaust flames at night. Our aircraft were painted black, many aerials spouting from the fuselage, and the H2S scanner under the nose. Our Forts looked far removed from their silvered counterparts of the U.S. 8th Air Force. At the end of March, the Squadron became operational with six ABC Forts on strength. It was decided that we should fly in the bomber stream at 20 mile intervals to give maximum coverage, and supplement the Lancasters of No 101 Squadron which were already being used in an RCM role. Two extra crew men now joined us, an extra gunner and the special duty operator. The SDO was the mystery man of the crew. We were told not to ask questions, and he was not to answer any. These specialists were always in short supply so were in the unhappy position of not having a permanent crew. They flew with all and sundry. Stan Bayliss was one such SDO who joined us. He recalls: "I volunteered for special duties whilst at No 4 Radio School, Madley, and was posted, with rank of Sgt, to No 214 (FMS) Squadron without completing flying training school. I was one of the original six trainee SDOs to arrive at Sculthorpe, and between April and November I flew with 18 different crews in my tour of 38 operations." Robert Lloyd-Davies, another SDO who arrived with Stan, tells a similar story. He started his flying career before he had been issued with a log book. Both operators had their share of bad luck. Stan Bayliss, on his end-of-tour leave, left the station on his motorcycle and was hit by a service vehicle. The injury to his left leg was such that it necessitated amputation above the knee. Robert Lloyd-Davies, after only seven weeks in the Squadron, volunteered to stand in for another SDO and was shot down returning from a raid on Antwerp, to become a POW. On the morning of April 20, I walked into the Gunnery Office and saw that our crew was included on the battle order for that night. This would be the first operation of the Squadron in its new role. An air of expectancy and excitement was manifest. Four crews were on the order: Bill Day, Jake Walters, George Mackie and Putt Puterbough. Mitch and I lost no time in making for our aircraft, H Howe, to carry out DIs to the guns and turrets. Then we joined with other members of the crew to airtest the plane for the night's operations. As it had been several months since I had last flown on ops, I searched through my kit to locate various items of essential equipment, which consisted of a woollen scarf knitted by my girl friend and a haversack which I packed with the following items: a knife, a torch, a Smith and Wesson revolver, one hand towel, soap, razor, chocolate, and a pair of walking shoes. These I included, as my flying boots were of the old fleece-lined type and almost impossible for walking any distance. I stowed the haversack below the mid-upper turret in the fuselage. Occasionally some items proved of use when we were diverted and away from our drome for any length of time, but luckily none of this gear was ever required in an emergency. I would not confess to being superstitious, but why take any chances when you wanted all the luck that was going for you? Just to make sure that I had the balance right, I carried two identification tags, a silver 3d piece, and a brass compass on a string round my neck. During our training it was always impressed upon us that our duty was to evade capture if shot down or, if caught, to escape from prison camp. The Air Ministry gave us every possible help to achieve this aim. After briefing, crew members were each given a pouch containing currency of the countries they would overfly, a phrase book printed in several languages, and a plastic container inside of which were Horlicks tablets, chocolate, a rubber bag to hold water, water purification tablets, etc. We were also issued an interesting collection of maps printed on silk scarves or smaller squares, hidden inside tobacco pouches or sewn into the shoulder pads of one's tunic, and compasses in various disguises - fly buttons, pencil clips, a pipe with concealed compartment. Mine was a collar stud. We each carried an envelope containing two passport-size photographs, taken of us dressed in civilian clothes. These were to be handed to the underground movement if we were lucky enough to be picked up by them. The photos could be used on the faked papers we would need on our escape route. We were told it was difficult for the Resistance to obtain photographic material so we carried them on our persons. At this stage of the war, preparations were well advanced for the invasion of Europe. Most of us realised the date was not far off. Our bombers had virtually abandoned their strategic role and had taken up a more tactical one. Whereas, before, we had pounded German cities with a large tonnage of bombs, the Command had now split its forces and small units ranged from Holland right down to Brittany. The new targets were coastal defences, railways, aerodromes, bridges and marshalling yards. The entire German communication network in Western Europe came under attack. The Germans who had, up to this time, recorded increasing successes with their night fighters, were slow to react at first. Our bomber crews had a brief respite from their deadly attentions, but, all too soon, Jerry rectified the matter and started moving fighter units into forward bases in the occupied territories. By June, 1944, bomber losses on French targets had risen to 5%. The target we visited on April 20/21 was La Chappelle, a marshalling yard north of Paris. Two Fortresses were detailed to fly in with 200 Lancasters which attacked in two waves, 100 in each wave.The other two went to Brussels. The take-off time was 2300 hours. After de-busing at our aircraft, we followed the time-honoured ritual of urinating on the tail wheel. This was not only a superstition but a necessity if the trip was to be a long one. Although an Elsan was aboard the aircraft, we rarely had an opportunity to leave our post whilst flying over enemy territory. This particular operation is one I well remember for, whilst taxying round the perimeter track, I almost succeeded in shooting off the tail plane of our machine, H Howe. I was checking the cocking handle when my right hand gun ran away, sending a stream of bullets into the night and almost hitting an RAF Regiment officer. Bill Day, my pilot, asked, "What the hell is happening? Is everything all right?" I replied in the affirmative, although with some uncertainty as it was quite dark. But I could see no damage from my top turret position. On return, however, it was discovered that I had shot off the Monica aerials and badly damaged the tail fin. There were some nasty questions to answer at the inquiry after the raid, but the gun was found to be faulty and I was exonerated. The raid on La Chappelle turned out to be the proverbial piece of cake. Apart from encountering flak on the outward journey, we experienced no other trouble. On our return, after crossing the English coast, we were pleased to see some German intruders coned by our searchlights. It was gratifying to know that the enemy was getting the treatment normally handed out to us. My second op was to Karlsruhe on April 24. I volunteered to fly as spare gunner for F/O Wright, with whom I was very friendly. This trip was the coldest I can remember. With the Fortresses' extra altitude, and being in the open waist position, it was impossible to keep warm, even with electrically heated clothing. In a short time frost appeared on my eyebrows and eyelashes and icicles formed on the bottom of my oxygen mask. All went well, however, until the pilot asked me to check the master compass. This entailed coming off the main oxygen supply, plugging into a portable bottle, and taking a reading with the aid of a small electric torch. With four sets of gloves protecting the hands, this was no small feat. I uncoupled the oxygen tube but was unable to plug into the portable bottle. Very soon I began to feel the effects of the lack of oxygen. There was no alternative but to take off a glove, which I did. Although this happened over a period of only a few minutes, I had frostbite in my left hand. As it was regarded as negligence to get frostbite, I never reported the matter, but it was at least a fortnight before my hand returned to normal. On the trip in question we were off track for part of the time and I only saw one plane shot down, near Abbefille. We later had to land at Bradwell Bay due to a fuel shortage. Four nights later I was out with my own crew when the target was a rail junction at Montzen (Aachen). The moon was in its first quarter so we had light conditions all the way. Flak was again light, but over the target we narrowly missed a collision with a Lancaster. Flying towards Montzen, we observed another attack getting under way on a marshalling yard south-east of Paris. We had little time to watch the pyrotechnics of this raid as the night fighters had at last penetrated the bomber stream and combats were taking place all around us. Out of a force of 184 bombers, 15 of our aircraft were shot down. On May 7th our names appeared once more on the battle order. This time we were to accompany 50 Lancasters to bomb the airfield at Tours in the south of France. This was probably the most successful raid in which our crew was involved. It was carried out in bright moonlight. The visual marking was good and the bombing excellent, as the PR photographs would later show. In the near-perfect conditions we could see fires at various points in France as our planes attacked other key target areas. This was a long flight and we did not arrive back at our base until 6:20 a.m., by which time the American Liberators were forming up over the nearby dromes to fly out and bomb Berlin for the second time in two days. Early in May we were informed of an impending move to Oulton, another Norfolk base, and that the U.S. 803 Squadron would come with us. This unit was to be used on bomber support operations until November and virtually became another 100 Group squadron. Group Captain T.C. Dickens, who had joined us as Station Commander at Sculthorpe, became the CO of our new base. He was a quiet, soft spoken man, well liked by the Squadron's personnel, and had the knack of getting things done with a minimum of fuss. When small problems arose with our American counterparts, he would ask Bill Day to have a few words with Captain Paris or Major Scott so that matters could be settled unofficially. Perhaps the fact that Bill was a Canadian determined his choice as go-between, but the system worked well and our relationship remained excellent. No history of No 214 Squadron would be complete without mention of the Adjutant, F/Lt George Wright, a former rubber planter, a figure larger than life and a gentleman in every sense of the word. George had a great sense of humour and treated the aircrew as members of his own family. The Squadron was his life and some of his enthusiasm rubbed off on us all. He had a great bearing on the smooth running of the Squadron and also on its morale. A man of different attributes was the CO, W/Cdr McGlinn. After serving as instructor in Canada, and without operational experience, he was given command of the Squadron in July, 1943, an unfortunate posting, as many of the aircrew members looked on their new CO with some mistrust. It was unfair to McGlinn, who had to prove his courage and ability before he could be accepted. Wingco McGlinn was an excellent pilot and a dedicated officer, but was taciturn and not easily approached which did little to enhance his popularity. The Night Bombers Dusk is our dawn, and midnight is our noon; And for the sun we have the silver moon: We love the darkness, and we hate the light; For we are wedded to the gloomy night. When in the east the evening stars burn clear, We know our time of toil is drawing near; For as the evening deepens in the west It brings an ending to our day-long rest. One after one we slip into the gloom, And through the dusk like great cockchafers boom: High in the stars you hear our mournful cry, As we sail onward through the sapphire sky. The twilight shadows welcome in our day: The silver dawn will hurry it away. The golden stars act as a changeless guide - The gloomy skies our wanderings will hide. The Rhenish cities hear our throbbing hum, And o'er the Belgian coast we go and come. From Zeebrugge to Metz our name is cursed At every township where our bombs have burst. The cunning searchlights haunt the midnight skies, Where chains of emerald balls of fire rise, To mingle with the spark of bursting shells - High in the darkness where the bomber dwells. Across whole countries we move to and fro As on our restless pilgrimage we go: With tanks filled up with petrol and oil, With loaded bomb-racks, all the night we toil. We know the meaning of the lights which shine Upon the world beneath - each is a sign Which tells us of some dim and frightened town, Which dreads to hear our bombs fall whistling down. Or of some railway junction full of dread, Whose workers hear us thunder overhead, And darken every lamp - that we may pass And leave no twisted rails and broken glass. We know the meaning of the sudden glare Of dazzling light which blossoms in the air. For us the green and scarlet rockets blaze And whisper urgent secrets through the haze. The dials with their phosphorescent face Record our passage through the star-lit space; Our height, our speed, the lapse of time is told By steady fingers, calculating, cold. Above a strange and darkened world we ride And over dim mysterious forest glide: When we are silent we can move unknown, Our only warning is our engine's drone. * * * Dusk is our dawn, and midnight is our noon; And for the sun we have the silver moon: We love the darkness, and we hate the light; For we are wedded to the gloomy night. Paul Bewsher, DSC Top: Sergeants' Mess dance at Oulton, 1944. Bottom: Squadron wireless operators, 1944. Top: F/O George Wright with bomb aimer "Ricky", and air gunners Williams and Southgate. Bottom Left: F/O Wright's waist gunners. Bottom Right: Jimmy Southgate's wife, Hazel, M.T. driver, Oulton. Top: Blickling Hall. Bottom: F/Lt Wynne with his second crew, the first having been lost over Germany and most of them taken prisoner and then murdered . Top: S/Ldr Day DFC (RCAF) and Crew Bottom: As a prelude to the invasion of Europe, a series of attacks were made against enemy airfields. This remarkable photograph was taken by a cameraman of the RAF Film Production Unit. It shows Tours Airfield being bombed by 50 Lancasters of No. 5 Group on the night of May 7/8, 1944. One Mosquito marker aircraft and one Lancaster were lost. No. 214 Squadron provided RCM cover on this operation. (IWM) Top: Tours Airfield before the attack, May 7/8, 1944. Bottom: Tours Airfield after attack, May 7/8, 1944. Top: V-2 Rocket leaving launch site somewhere in Holland (IWM). Bottom: Squadron Fortress flying out on a 'Big Ben' sortie. 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