╨╧рб▒с>■  ─╞■   ┬├                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                            ье┴s ┐дjbjb└ └ %Rкkкkа      ]ЦЦЦЦЦЦЦввввв о$въ▐▐▐▐▐▐▐▐─╞╞╞╞╞╞,ёЇхЦЄЦ▐▐▐▐▐Є*ЦЦ▐▐▐***▐╛Ц▐Ц▐─к|&|ЦЦЦЦ▐─*Ъ*─ЦЦ─╥ (o╗ввЬО─ Chapter XIV - Oulton The nectar which the Gods distil is more refined than beer; The latter has a vulgar touch, but sad to say my nature's such That I enjoy it very much. The same again, old dear. On May 16, 1944, the two units moved to Oulton, an aerodrome close to the small town of Aylsham, roughly midway between Norwich and Cromer. This was a popular move, as Aylsham boasted several pubs, a picture house, shops, etc., and was much more in the main stream of things. We got on very well with the local inhabitants, and many friendships developed. In my case, I was adopted by a smallholder by the name of Gillie Grix, and spent much of my spare time helping out on his plot or in the greenhouses. Part of our aerodrome was on the estate of the Marquis of Lothian, and the small hamlet of Oulton Street was actually within the confines of the camp itself, only a short distance from the control tower. One of the householders sold milk and did a roaring trade with the lads who sought refreshment after a binge the night before. Most of the airmen's and NCO's billets, which were the usual Nissen hut accommodation, were dispersed at quite a distance from the main camp, as were the officers' quarters and mess, but these buildings were set in the lovely gardens and woods of Blickling Hall. The Hall, a magnificent Jacobean mansion with its acres of ground, lake and woods, was a prime spot to be billeted, especially as opposite the main gates was a welcoming hostelry named the Buckinghamshire Arms, popular with the Americans and RAF alike. Oulton was an ideal station in every way. The surrounding country, being of heathland and small wooded areas, abounded with pheasant and partridge, soon to be under threat from the Squadron's shooting fraternity. A service bicycle was essential for our daily duties, as sometimes the distance between billet and aircraft dispersal was several miles. This was one of the first items of equipment we collected on arrival at the new camp. One bad habit we lads did get into was to ride our bikes at night, without lights. Returning from the pub after closing hours, we soon fell foul of the local constabulary. There was one particular PC who was a strict upholder of the law and used to wait for us on our way back to camp. Although somewhat drunk, we still had youth and fitness on our side, and easily out-pedalled him. One night, however, my chain fell off whilst in full flight, and I had to throw the bike in a ditch and run across country to avoid capture. The following morning I reported the bike stolen and later recovered it from the police station, to the chagrin of our local custodian of the law who guessed correctly that I was the guilty party, but had no way of proving it. It was a short time after this incident that Paddy Gilpin, Jake Walters' rear gunner, and I embarked on a hunting expedition. We had already been over the ground, and knew the routes and times taken by the gamekeepers, so we set off looking for some good pickings. I borrowed a gun and some ammunition from the armoury. Paddy purchased a secondhand gun of dubious vintage, rusted, with heavily pitted barrels, and which looked as if it would be of more danger to himself than any game bird he might meet. As luck would have it, we shot no birds, and got only one rat between us. This particular volley made our presence known and, out of nowhere, up pops our intrepid bobby. "Got you poaching at last," he said. We protested our innocence, explaining that we were only shooting vermin, and showed him the tattered carcass of our victim, but he was in no mood to be appeased, especially after Paddy threatened to punch him on the nose. Eventually, we both got off with a warning from the local magistrate, and without paying a fine, but this I admit did little to stop our infringements. During May and June our aircraft were undergoing further modifications which, incidentally, would continue until the end of hostilities. Equipment, with names such as Carpet, Tinsel, Airborne Grocer, Piperack, and Jostle was installed, some of which would later be discontinued. But Jostle would remain to become our principal jamming transmitter. This unit weighed 600 lbs and was fitted into the B-17's bomb bay. The Fortress was the only aircraft at that time capable of taking the device. Jostle's rated power was 2500 watts, and such was its strength, that for testing, our aircraft had to fly well below 500 feet or it would have blocked communications over a wide area. On one occasion F/O Gilbert and his crew flew out towards Iceland to perform high level tests, and transmissions in North America at that time were subjected to severe interference. In the early days we found our electronic equipment very sensitive and temperamental. Often it would work well on pre-flight checks, but go u/s on us just before setting out on operations. Then a fine old panic would ensue as no one liked being scrubbed at the last minute. Often, in desperation, the order of the boot would prevail and brawn triumphed over brain with kicks, thumps, then smiles all round as the circuits came back to life. Although we were flying operational patrols in May, conversion training was in full swing and several aircraft were away from base undergoing some modification or other. By the end of May a total of 22 crews had fully converted. On the night of May 24/25, 1944, the Squadron suffered its first Fortress casualty when P/O Hockley, RAAF, was shot down on a patrol to Antwerp. It was on this flight that SDO Lloyd-Davies was the stand-in operator. P/O Hockley stayed at the controls of the burning aircraft to give his crew the chance of baling out, and in so doing forfeited his own life. All the crew with the exception of the pilot and Sgt Simpson managed to parachute out and landed on one of the small Dutch islands in the North Sea. As this area was well guarded by Germans, they had no opportunity to evade capture and were quickly rounded up by the enemy. From the end of April, 1944, Bomber Command concentrated on the disruption of the enemy's transport system, as previously mentioned, but by early June the night fighters were again chalking up a series of successes against us, especially as we were now operating in full moonlight. A nasty reminder of their efficiency was brought home to us on June 2nd, when, in company with 100 Halifaxes of No 4 Group, we went to Trappes, near Paris, to bomb the railway yards. Trappes was one of many such targets chosen for attack that night. We took off for Trappes at 2300 hours in bright moonlight and excellent visibility. The outward flight was uneventful except that trouble started with my intercom after we had crossed the French coast and it went completely unserviceable before we reached the target. It was here that the enemy met us in force. It seemed that our TIs attracted every fighter for miles around and combats could be observed in every quarter. The German controllers concentrated their main force of fighters to meet this attack and our loss rate rose to 16%. We experienced one attack and Jock, our engineer, took over my role by directing the pilot in evasive action. We sustained no damage in this short encounter, the fighter making only one pass at us. Once in the bomber stream, there was no let-up from the night fighters, and the rather spectacular strings of tracer at first gave no indication that they were to be the harbingers of destruction to both the hunter and hunted alike. Only too soon, flames appeared in the night sky, and the fiery remains of shot-down aircraft on the ground below marked out our homeward route. Not until we regained the English coast was there any respite from our pursuers, and we could relax once more, thankful to have one more operation behind us. On this raid we suffered the loss of sixteen Halifaxes, and on the credit side, our bombers claimed nine enemy fighters. The battle order for June 5th showed five crews on duty for the night's operations. W/Cdr McGlinn, S/Ldrs Jeffery and Day, F/Lt Peden and F/O Lye. We thought it unusual that the Squadron's three most senior officers should be operating together, and although no mention was made at the briefing that this was the long-awaited opening of the second front, there was no doubt in our own minds that this was to be the invasion of Europe. Our task that evening was to fly a spoof patrol along the line of the Somme estuary in company with 24 aircraft of 101 Squadron, No 1 Group, dropping Window and jamming with ABC. The idea was to distract enemy night fighters from the airborne troops being dropped into the Cherbourg peninsula and other parts of Normandy, and make the Germans believe that the landings would be in the Calais, Boulogne area. In this we were wholly successful. The patrol did the job for which it was intended and completely fooled the German controllers. Scores of fighters were sent into the area, only to find that the jamming was such that they could not locate their targets. Returning then to their beacons and control points for further instructions, they were told to carry on hunting as there was sporadic fighting within the area. This operation was a real morale-booster, for we had been waiting years for it and felt privileged to be amongst the crews chosen for the great event. We all knew that once a bridgehead was established in France, and the Anglo- American forces were ashore, it would only be a short time before they and the Russian Army in the east would crush Nazi Germany and thus end the war. The patrol lasted for six and a half hours. It was still bright moonlight but with heavy cloud far below us, as we were flying well over 30,000 feet. Contrails marked our passage and visibility was perfect. Many fighters were seen but only one, an Fw 190, came up to have a look at us. He seemed to have some problem in reaching our height, and looked as if he were hanging on his propeller to make it. However, apart from an exchange of fire at long range in which no damage was done, the Fw190 dropped its nose and went off to find easier pickings at lower altitudes. Jimmy Sharp, the Gunnery Leader, flying as rear gunner with W/Cdr McGlinn, shot down an Me410 in one combat, but a Lancaster of No 101 Squadron fell to the guns of another German fighter. Due to the cloud, we could not see any events taking place on the ground below, apart from occasional flashes, but as we came towards the end of our patrol and started to let down for home, we saw the marvellous sight of scores of Dakotas carrying paratroops heading for the French coast, each with its navigation lights blazing. Everyone sat around radio sets the next day awaiting the official communique, but although there was an announcement that landings had been made in France, it was several days after the event before confirmation was received that this was the real thing. Most people in the country realised, though, that the invasion was under way. Gelsenkirchen received a visit from our bombers on the night of June 21/22 when the defences gave a very good account of themselves, as Murray Peden describes in his book 'A Thousand Shall Fall'. Murray's aircraft was shot up by two night fighters, but he managed to bring back the badly damaged plane with wounded on board, and make a crash landing at Woodbridge. In the process of bringing in his aircraft, he cut a Lancaster in half, which still had a 12,000 lb bomb aboard but, luckily for all concerned, no explosion occurred. Another of the Squadron's aircraft, piloted by P/O Johnny Cassan, was not so fortunate as it was brought down over Holland. We learned later that four of the crew managed to bale out and became POWs. For the next few weeks, Bomber Command's role was to pulverise the German army around the Normandy bridgehead, with massive attacks on tanks and troops in the Caen area. Not until July 12th did I fly on a further operation, although other crews on the Squadron were taking an active part in events. Our target for the night of July 12th was a petrol supply dump at Revigny-sur-Ornain. We were detailed to fly in with 100 Lancasters from No 1 Group on a trip of some 1600 miles. The flight took eight hours twenty minutes. It was routine in the early stages and the bomber stream was well concentrated, as we noted several Lancs flying at our speed and height. It is surprising that even on the darkest night, flying at altitude, visibility was usually good and it was not too difficult to pick up aircraft 200 to 300 yards away. Nothing untoward happened until we were only a few minutes flying time from the target. Due to a stroke of bad luck, our route took us over a night fighter beacon and in a short period of time several combats took place. In front of us a Lancaster caught fire, probably hit by cannon fire from an Me110's upward-firing machine gun Schrage Musik (slanting music). Whether or not the crew realised that the aircraft had been mortally hit I do not know, but it still flew on course for several minutes before the flames enveloped both wings. The Lancaster slowly turned to port and, as though reluctant to give up the struggle, it gradually went into a spin. A few thousand feet below us the petrol tanks exploded, breaking the aircraft into three flaming pieces of debris. We did not observe any crew member leaving by parachute. By the time we reached our objective the pathfinders had already done a good job with their target indicators, both red and green markers tightly grouped, and although low cloud did not help the bombers, it seemed to be a successful operation. As far as we were concerned we kept well out of trouble on this trip on which ten Lancasters were lost. We also witnessed two other raids, one on Tours, and the other on Culmont-Chalindrey. Three days later we were again on the battle order, for the night of July 15. The target was Chalons-sur-Marne. We were joining 130 Lancasters of 3 Group for an attack on the marshalling yards. With 10/10ths cloud most of the way, we encountered no trouble except for one Monica warning, which we easily shook off by taking evasive action. It was difficult to judge whether the raid was a success, as the bombing was made through cloud, and there was little to report at the de-briefing. We did run into searchlights and flak on the way home but no damage was done to our aircraft. On July 18th our crew was once again on the battle order. This time the target was a synthetic oil plant at Gelsenkirchen, with 150 Lancasters making up the force of bombers. One unusual occurrence was that intruder aircraft appeared over the bomber bases in East Anglia, trying to shoot down aircraft taking off from their dromes. Although night fighters routinely followed us back from our raids across the North Sea, it was only rarely that we were troubled after reaching the English coast. It is hard to understand why the Luftwaffe High Command did not show a more aggressive spirit in the usage of their night bombers and fighters. Almost every night an armada of British bombers was forming up over Britain from north Yorkshire to the south coast, and on return from the raids on Germany the circuits were stacked with aircraft waiting to land. A determined attack when we were most vulnerable would have blunted our bomber offensive, and might have caused an unacceptable number of casualties, albeit that the Germans themselves would have lost more aircraft. It was a risk they were apparently not willing to take. The German long-range fighters of 1 Group, and the 4th Squadron, 2nd Night Fighter Wing, did carry out intruder operations in 1941, but this Group was transferred to the Mediterranean theatre of war and was not replaced. Hitler was not impressed with the potential effectiveness of such operations, particularly as they could not easily be followed from Germany, and would have no value in bolstering civilian morale. So such operations were dropped and only limited attacks were made from then on. In complete contrast to the Germans, the RAF extended its night fighter operations once the Battle of Britain had been won. During 1943, Beaufighters carried out patrols over Europe, seeking out enemy aircraft. In November, 1943, 100 Group came into being and, from that time onward, squadrons equipped with Mosquitos entered the conflict. Their duties were to fly on either side of the bomber stream, intercepting German aircraft, and attacking airfields within striking distance of the bomber force. In this they succeeded admirably and, apart from the number of kills they recorded, they also demoralised the German night fighter crews. Similarly, during World War 1, German aircraft usually fought in the skies above their own territory, only rarely crossing Allied lines to challenge our planes. In contrast, the Allies showed offensive spirit and daily sent patrols out over enemy held areas, right up until the end of the war. Our trip to Gelsenkirchen, due to good tactics, went without a hitch, the route being free of fighters. But things altered rapidly when we went through the target, as flak was both heavy and accurate. I saw two Lancasters going down in flames shortly after the attack had started, and then someone's bombs found their mark and an enourmous explosion followed. Flames and smoke shot up hundreds of feet into the air as the oil refinery took a direct hit. It was the most spectacular bombing that I had so far seen on 30 operational sorties. Our return journey was again quiet, but we did see one combat take place over the sea which appeared inconclusive. After the Gelsenkirchen raid on July 18th, S/Ldr Bill Day and crew were officially screened. This would normally mean the break-up of the crew, but in this case we instead became the founding members of No 1699 Conversion Flight. Thus we stayed with 214 Squadron and instructed incoming crews on the intricacies of the Flying Fortress. Later we were joined by other tour-expired members such as Jake Walters, F/Lt Savage, F/Lt Wyver, S/Ldr Bellengham and Murray Peden, to mention just a few. One great advantage of this posting was that we kept our same quarters and lived with our friends on the Squadron. Apart from not flying on operations, we still considered ourselves 214 staff. Living under these conditions made us anxious to return to full operational status as soon as possible. We used to watch our mates take off at night, wishing we were with them. It was not long before our applications were sent in for another tour. The statutory rest period was six months and at first we were not considered, but our persistance paid off and we returned earlier than was usual. We shared a Nissen hut with George Wright's crew Ц a great bunch of lads: Fred Mullenger, Johnny Bates, Don Robson, the Williams boys, and Jimmy Southgate, the rear gunner who married our WAAF M/T driver, Hazel. She used to take us out to the aircraft when we went on ops. It must have been a traumatic experience for her to see the lads off and to await their return several hours later. The summer of 1944 was a good one for the Squadron. Apart from the loss of two crews, almost 300 successful sorties were completed. Life on camp was good and Aylsham's pubs proved to be a big attraction for those off duty. Heres is what Bill Walsh had to say of this period: "My mate Taffy Williams and I were sent from 12 AGS to the Squadron, where we crewed with F/O Mark Stanier. We became the two waist gunners. Taffy, an ex-miner, was much older than the rest of us. He had the thirst of an elephant and the eyes of a cat. Both aircrew and groundstaff used to go out drinking together, usually at the Black Boy in Aylsham, or the pub in the High street close by the Church Army building. If Taffy and I went on our own it was the pub by the cinema, The Flower Pot. We usually had a game of dominoes with the locals, and one old boy there used to carve pipes for us if we provided the mouthpiece. I still have a pipe with Monty's face on it, complete with beret and two cap badges. As I said, Taffy had a terrific thirst. Towards the end of the evening he would say, 'Come on lads, I think you have had enough for one night,' and promptly drain all the glasses. The only trouble was, I had to put him to bed and take out his false teeth, which I placed in a jar to soak." For excursions further afield, the luckier amongst us had motorised vehicles of dubious vintage and pedigree, mostly clapped-out heaps. Mitch had a Morgan Four, and I picked up from somewhere a Raleigh motorcycle. The problem was that petrol was so scarce and on ration that you could only afford to make a trip once in a blue moon. All service petrol was marked with dye and regular checks were made by the SPs to ensure that none was taken for unauthorised use. Despite this, we took chances sometimes and even used 100 octane aircraft fuel to the detriment of the plugs. One night I decided to syphon off a gallon of petrol from a senior officer's car. It was a dark night and I pushed my bike up behind the car, took off the filler cap, sucked the petrol up the tube and stood emptying the petrol into my tank when I saw a cigarette glow from inside the car. All I know is that a man and a woman were in the front seat and I didn't stop to investigate further. It was a close shave and I didn't press my luck again. It was fortunate for me that the occupants were sufficiently occupied with each other not to have noticed me. In August W/Cdr McGlinn left to take charge of No 223 Squadron, also based at Oulton, after thirteen months with 214. During his period of service he flew no less than thirteen ops with the Squadron and was awarded the DFC in September, 1944. His successor, W/Cdr D.D. Rogers, barely had time to settle into his new appointment before he too was posted out after a few months' stay. The Squadron lost its third Fortress on the night of August 25/26 while giving electronic cover to a main force raid on Russelheim. The aircraft, piloted by W/O Lee, was shot down at 0132 hours, north of Darmstadt, at a place called Ober-Ramstadt. Four of the crew were killed, the rest taken prisoner. Their adversary was Uffz Egon Engling of III/NJG2, based at Langendiebach. Engling, flying a JU88 G1, had already had one success this night when he shot down a Lancaster from No 97 Squadron. His victim was S/Ldr Parkes, who was the deputy Master Bomber for a 5 Group attack on Darmstadt. Engling was shot down and killed March 26, 1945. At that time he had been credited with a total of 12 Allied aircraft destroyed. It was during August that the German V-2 rocket made its appearance. British Intelligence thought the missile was radio controlled and plans were put in hand to counteract this latest threat. By the middle of the month Big Ben Jostle transmitters were being installed in the B-17s, and during the next two months the Squadron was heavily engaged in counter measure patrols to try to defeat this new enemy weapon. Big Ben patrols were usually carried out over the North Sea at some point off the Low Countries. During daylight hours they were accompanied by fighter escort. It was not until after the war that it was discovered that no radio guidance system was fitted in the V-2 rocket and all our efforts on this score had been in vain. The eminent Dutch military historian, Dr. Tiemens, of Arnhem, who researched the following incident, has spoken to the chief two protagonists involved. The story is based on their evidence. F/O J.R. Corke, the pilot of the Fortress concerned, was later killed in a flying accident and all attempts to trace his crew have so far been unsuccessful. At 1605 hours on September 16, 1944, a Fortress 11, G for George, HB774, set out from Oulton, Norfolk, on a Big Ben patrol. This flight started off a train of events, which may have had a major effect on the outcome of the battle at Arnhem, and was one of the biggest factors in the defeat of our airborne forces. It was known by Bomber Command, before the August 17, 1943 pre-emptive strike on Peenemunde, that two types of V-weapons were being produced by the Germans. The first, the V-1 or Flying Bomb, was sited along France's channel coast, and made its appearance several months before the V-2. Although the V-1 sites were bombed continuously, it was not until they were overrun by our ground forces following the invasion of Europe, that the non-stop bombardment of London was brought to an end. The V-2 rocket with its longer range was based in Holland. It was thought that these were controlled by radio and that if we could discover and jam their frequencies, the V-2s would be deflected off course. No 214's Fortresses were ideal machines for RCM work. They were fully equipped with electronic and radar devices and the bomb bays housed the powerful Jostle transmitters. Each crew consisted of ten members: the pilot; navigator; flight engineer; wireless operator; a bomb aimer whose job, being defunct, became a general factotum, helping with navigation, operating a jammer, dispensing Window, or manning a waist gun; four gunners; and finally, a special operator who was German speaking and carried out most of the actual jamming. When the first rockets fell on England during August, the Squadron had gone quickly into action, flying both day and night patrols off the Dutch coast. In daylight hours they were provided with a large Spitfire escort, and these special flights were codenamed Big Ben patrols. Involved in the episode of September 16th were two German officers based near Arnhem at the time of the landings. One was General Major Walter Grabman, in charge of the 3rd Jagddivision, headquartered in the huge Schaarsbergen bunker, five miles north of Arnhem, and codenamed Diogenes. This JDiv was responsible for the air defence of Holland and the Ruhr area. The other officer was SS Major Sepp Krafft, commander of the SS/Panzerausbildungshot, the SS Panzer Grenadier Training and Reserve Battalion. On September 12, extensive reconnaissance flights had been executed over Arnhem and its surrounds. Pictures were taken of Diogenes and its satellite direction finding Y Stations, Teerosen 1 and Teerosen 2, but these reconnaissance flights were probably not noticed by the Germans. Between September 12 and 16, 36 reconnaissance flights were recorded in the divisional sector, twelve over Arnhem, and of these twelve, seven took place on September 14. It is stated in the book, 'A Bridge Too Far', that General Major Grabmann of Deelen airbase warned Lt General Hans Kreb, Model's Chief of Staff, of an invasion by airborne troops in the Arnhem area, but this is incorrect. Grabmann had nothing to do with Deelen. He was C in C of 3 Jagd, and the person he warned was Major Sepp Krafft. In an interview with General Major Grabmann, Dr. Tiemens asked about events prior to the landings taking place and Grabmann had this to say: "That evening I had dinner with an old friend, SS Major Sepp Krafft. I told him that during the afternoon one single B-17, escorted by a large number of fighters, had circled above the Deelerheide area. I also gave the opinion that it might have contained a commander of airborne forces who had flown over personally to inspect the landing zone, and that this was a prelude to a full-scale invasion." There is no doubt that this threat was taken seriously, for Krafft quickly took action. This was confirmed in a conversation between Dr. Tiemens and Sepp Krafft. At midnight Krafft alarmed his unit, ordering them to take up positions in the area where, the next day, airborne landings were to take place. Late on Saturday afternoon, September 16, a B-17 with a strong fighter escort flew over Holland. Was it the B-17 from Oulton, flown by F/O Corke? It is reported that this was the only Allied Fortress over Dutch airspace at that time. What made this sortie different from the rest was that the Big Ben flights were normally over coastal areas around Zeeland, Rotterdam, Den Haag and Haarlem; but this one, over Eindhoven, Nimegan and then over Arnhem, was unique. General Major Grabmann, who was familiar with Big Ben flights, concluded that this was a special mission and forerunner to an airborne attack, so he came up with the correct answer through wrong reasoning. However, the few hours left, before the landings, were made good use of by his friend Sepp Krafft, who deployed his small force with much skill and foresight. Krafft rightly guessed that the bridge at Arnhem was the vital target. He positioned his men close to two of the three roads leading into Arnhem and in the nearby woods. He was not kept waiting for long, as the landings commenced in front of his positions at 1:30 a.m. September 17th. Krafft's reserve unit comprised 13 officers, 73 NCOs, and 349 other ranks; not a large formation, but a highly trained group of men equipped with rocket-propelled mortars, heavy machine guns, and anti-tank weapons. Their commander was a resolute man who possessed good tactical ability. He decided to launch a series of attacks using twenty to thirty men against the airborne force opposing him, giving the impression that German troops were there in strength and were capable of launching a counter offensive. Throughout the day Krafft's men held up the main advance towards the bridge and, although greatly outnumbered and outflanked on both sides, they held firm. By dusk, the unit had sustained heavy casualties and was low in ammunition. Krafft had no knowledge of the disposition of other German forces and imagined himself to be surrounded from the outset of the battle. It must therefore have been a relief for him when darkness started to fall and aid in the form of tanks from the 9th SS Panzer Hohenstaufen Division arrived to strengthen his position. Back at the Diogenes bunker, the Headquarter staff had a grandstand view of the gliders and paratroops landing near Arnhem, and quickly informed General Bittrich, Commander of the 11 SS Panzer Corps. General Bittrich, who had his HQ in northern Holland, in turn contacted his 9th and 10th SS Panzer Divisions, which were refitting and resting in areas no great distance from Arnhem, and ordered them to engage the enemy as speedily as possible. This was easier said than done as both units were in a depleted state and lacking in serviceable vehicles. It was not until dusk that the 9th Panzers arrived to bolster Krafft's battalion. Walter Grabmann of 3 Jagd, with his staff, left Diogenes at 5 p.m. without interference, and were able to set up control at Duisburg in Germany. They became operational next day and once more were directing fighters into the battle. The mystery of the B-17 flight remains. Why were these most sensitive areas overflown on the eve of the landings? Was the aircraft off course, since a normal Big Ben flight would not cross the coast? Or was there another reason for this venture, known only to certain high-ranking officers? One other aspect of the battle remains unanswered. Why wasn't Diogenes immobilised? The Underground had alerted British Intelligence to the importance of this bunker and its two satellite stations, and had even supplied the plans and telephone layout. But no action was taken. Diogenes was Germany's main nerve centre in Holland. Bombing or sabotage prior to the landings would have done much to help our cause. As it turned out, Diogenes remained the main communication centre throughout the battle and enabled Bittrich to make vital disposition of his panzers at the very outset. Hilary St George Saunders, in his book 'The Red Beret', has this to say: "The German general officer in command at Arnhem had been killed an hour before, and Krafft's own casualties had not been light, but he nevertheless continued to hold on, cheered by the promise of support by midnight. It duly arrived in the form of the Hohenstaufen Panzer Division Ц more armour it will be perceived, and more trained men. By this margin did we fail." During the last quarter of 1944, the Squadron had a splendid record of achievement, being employed almost every night that the main force or any single Group of Bomber Command went out. Other nights too, when no bombers were airborne, No 214 would take part in spoofs and Window patrols. The idea was to keep the German defences fully occupied, and deny any respite to their hard-pressed night fighter organisation. Flight of Fortress HB 774 on September 16th, 1944 At this time the Allied forces were moving through France. The U.S. and British airforces had started a campaign of bombing and strafing which continued around the clock, only ending with the final ceasefire. Under this massive onslaught, the enemy night fighters were forced to assist in a daytime role with the consequent demise of many night fighter aces. Paradoxically, the autumn of 1944 was one of the most successful periods for the German air defences. In one month alone their flak shot down 570 heavy aircraft and 312 other types of British machines, including 3,216 trained aircrew. The 8th USAF lost 416 B-17s and 211 B-24s, with about 6,200 aircrew, and 180 fighters. Our Window patrols were still eminently successful. On one night twelve aircraft were sent over the Ruhr and managed to get scores of night fighters airborne. For this the Squadron received a commendation from Group Headquarters. On another occasion F/O Jackson's crew, taking part in a Window operation, failed to hear a recall signal. They pressed on to the Ruhr, blissfully unaware of their isolation, and, when they returned safely, were greeted with the news that the Hun had plotted them as a force of 50 aircraft. F/O Jackson was a great character; five feet nothing tall and well liked on the Squadron. On one occasion, for some reason or other Ц possibly to darken down the cockpit instrument lighting so it would be less noticeable from the outside Ц the lower part of the front screen was painted black. I can recall Jackson stamping angrily into the Flight office and asking S/Ldr Bill Day, "How the hell am I supposed to fly a machine that I can't see out of?" When he had cooled down we all trooped out to look at the problem and sure enough, he could not see out of the window. By a judicious raising of the seat and putting blocks on the pedals, F/O Jackson was once more enabled to view the world through his Fort's windscreen. It came as a shock to us all when he and his crew were killed on their 30th operation. W/O Jennings, a Canadian bomb aimer from F/O Cassan's crew, shot down in June, returned to the Squadron in September. At first he had been reported killed, then reclassified as a prisoner of war, and finally as 'now in UK'. After parachuting out when his plane was hit, Jennings had landed in Holland, but in so doing damaged his ankle. He was quickly taken prisoner and removed to a civilian asylum in a nearby town where he was placed in a room with another wounded airman. A German sentry was posted on guard outside. Jennings realised that if he was to escape it would have to be done quickly, before he was removed to Dulagluft for interrogation, so he and his room mate made plans to break out. It was noticed that at night the barred windows to the outside verandah were pushed down and bolted. It followed that if they could partially block the bolt holes, the bolts would not go fully down and could be prised loose. The next obstacle would be to get to the ground. If all the sheets were tied together and fastened to the radiator, they could just about make it. As his companion was in no fit state to make his escape, Jennings would go it alone. The next day, when all was quiet, he slipped out of bed and jammed paper into the bolt holes. That night, the same procedure was adopted when the windows were closed. Some time later, waiting for the sentry to doze off on his chair, the window was checked and, with some little difficulty, Jennings managed to free the bolts. Meanwhile, the other airman had knotted the sheets together and as quickly as possible Jennings tied them to the radiator and lowered himself over the balcony, clad only in his hospital night shirt. In the darkness he made good his escape from the asylum grounds, but was unable to travel far due to his ankle injury. Eventually he reached a cornfield and decided to rest up, only to hear the hue and cry of his pursuers, who had noticed his absence soon after he left. Although they searched all around him, his luck held and he avoided recapture. As the surrounding countryside was teeming with German troops, Jennings decided to remain where he was for another day and a half before moving on and finding refuge deep in the wood. At last he made contact with a Dutch civilian and was handed on to Underground personnel who placed him in a safe house until such time as he could be passed through the German lines and make contact with our forces. This was subsequently achieved and it is said that W/O Jennings brought valuable intelligence back with him in connection with the Arnhem drop. For these exploits he was awarded a DFC. On the night of September 12/13, F/Lt Filleul and his crew failed to return from operations and it was later learnt that only the rear gunner, Sgt R.C. Cooper, had survived. F/Lt Filleul had just commenced his second tour with the Squadron, having already completed one tour in 1940, when as first pilot to Geoff Cole he had flown Wimpy ICs from Stradishall. Towards the end of the year the Squadron suffered two further casualties, losing F/O Jackson and his crew, mentioned earlier, and F/Sgt Ashworth's crew, both losses occurring in the first half of November. One other aircraft had a lucky escape when, returning from a mission, it overshot the runway and finished up across a railway line. In this instance no one was hurt. During my time with 214, several other aircraft came to rest on this particular railway track but I cannot recall anyone suffering injuries thereby, or any great damage coming to the aircraft concerned. Oulton was the scene of a nasty crash on Saturday, November 18, when a USAAF Liberator, which had diverted to us the previous day was returning to its base at Cheddington. It took off successfully but cartwheeled into a small wood close to the Sergeants' mess. We never knew whether the plane lost power in its port engines or the pilot was trying a 'split arse turn' at the end of the runway, but we all rushed to the scene and managed to rescue some members from the debris. Three survived with minor injuries but the rest lost their lives. Another accident in November provided my first close range view of bomb damage. F/Lt Savage and crew, returning from a patrol over Germany, had the port inner propeller run away. Efforts were made to feather the prop, without success. Eventually the complete assembly broke away from the engine, ploughing into the navigator's cabin just below the cockpit. Crossing over the front lines, F/Lt Savage managed to put his crippled Fort down on the deserted airfield at Juvincourt, France. I was lucky enough to accompany F/Lt Bellengham in a 1699 CF aircraft to pick up the stranded crew. As we overflew France in daylight, I could see that our bombers had caused havoc to the French road and rail system. Looking down on the shattered bridges, stations and crossroads, I also noticed the burned and ruined hamlets and villages, and my thoughts were for the many civilians who must have been slain by their allies within an hour or two of liberation. It was a sobering thought. Juvincourt, an ex-Luftwaffe airfield, was in a state of disrepair. The wooden huts had windows missing and doors swinging loose on their hinges, whilst around the perimeter track were several wrecked Me-109s and Fw190s. A small detachment was in charge of the drome, under the control of one officer who could speak some French. He got in touch with a French official on a hand-cranked telephone and later, the Frenchman turned up with several bottles of wine, which proved very welcome. After arranging for a guard to be placed on F/Lt Savage's aircraft, we all made our way back to base in F/Lt Bellengham's machine. With the adverse conditions of the winter of 1944/45, the Squadron still had a good operational record: 125 sorties flown in November, 126 in December, 72 in the snowbound conditions of January, 133 in February, usually a quiet month for Bomber Command, and 123 in March. Returning from a raid on Namur Bridge By Paul Bewsher, DSC, September 29, 1917 Above the hostile lands I fly, And know, O Lord, that thou art nigh; And with thy ever-loving care Dost bear me safely through the air. Thou madest the twinkling Polar Star, Which guides me homewards from afar; And thou hast made my greatest boon, The radiant visage of the moon. And if I did not love thee, Lord, I could not sit here reassured With level mind, and soul at ease, Amidst the cool, refreshing breeze. дZЮ╪┘╙" v№"ч'г-Ё.╠1ў2;9∙9?<д@kC?F╡IМNИSЄWqY¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤д■qYB\р]%_Е`]bxdПfЭi▒l╨nьp[tВxх{ }O БйВкВ▄В▌В▐В▀ВрВсВуВфВхВцВ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤цВчВшВщВъВыВьВэВЧЕаЗ╦К№О^СХmЦмШ╦Ъбввввв2вCвDвnвoвОв┤⤤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤┤в╥вўв°вгCгhгИгЙглг╩гэгддддд䤤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤# 0РА░╨/ ░р=!░p"░а#Ра$Ра%░ [(@ё (NormalCJmH <A@Є б<Default Paragraph FontаR                                 P яЁ+в: I┴WЭe tч~МИЪа╡ ▄ВБv \ ~ дгqYцВ┤вдджзиде18QX]cБИ\gw}~В .47<[a─ўЯа">г╜Х Ь 9>rnЮ▓Ю│Ю┴Ю╠ЮAЯBЯhЯЗЯеЯйЯа  Rosaleen Dickson8Macintosh HD:Desktop Folder:Sqyadron 214 Book:Chapter 14 @Ааа,░╨+аа @а0@GРTimes New Roman5РАSymbol3Р Arial3РTimes"1И╨h7Вv&9Вv&(Д CГ ▒е└┤┤А0в╟  Chapter XIV - OultonRosaleen DicksonRosaleen Dickson■  рЕЯЄ∙OhлС+'│┘0|ИР░╝╪фЇ  8 D P\dlt'Chapter XIV - Oulton8hapRosaleen DicksonultosaNormalnRosaleen Dicksonult1saMicrosoft Word 8.0t@F├#@кц~4├@6m╞4├ (Д■  ╒═╒Ь.УЧ+,∙оD╒═╒Ь.УЧ+,∙оD hp|ДМФ Ьдм┤ ╝ ▀'teCвb Chapter XIV - Oulton TitleШ 6> _PID_GUID'AN{F51AB810-9FCD-11D7-A840-0003930A169C}  !"#$%&'()*+,-./0123456789:;<=>?@ABCDEFGHIJKLMNOPQRSTUVWXYZ[\]^_`abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz{|}~АБВГДЕЖЗИЙКЛМНОПРСТУФХЦЧШЩЪЫЬЭЮЯабвгдежзий■   лмноп░▒■   │┤╡╢╖╕╣■   ╗╝╜╛┐└┴■   ¤   ¤   ┼■   ■   ■                                                                                                                                                                                                                                   Root Entry         └FдВFх3├╟А1Table            кWordDocument        %RSummaryInformation(    ▓DocumentSummaryInformation8            ║CompObj    XObjectPool            дВFх3├дВFх3├            ■                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           ■      └FMicrosoft Word Document■   NB6WWord.Document.8