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  • Polish No. 303 Squadron and the Hurricane 80K

    Polish No. 303 Squadron and the Hurricane 80K

    While the evacuation of Dunkirk continued under increasing pressure of the Nazi German forces, it was not only British troops which arrived at the harbour. There were also French, Belgian and Polish troops. Only half a year before, the Poles had fought the Nazi invasion before escaping via neutral Romania. From there, most made their way to France to continue the fight. Once there, their superior training and that most precious commodity – combat experience – stood them in good stead. The Polish Army in France numbered 82,000 men from Poland or émigré families. The Polish Air Force in France had 86 aircraft fully operational, although most were second-rate aircraft disdained by the French. During the Battle of France, Polish pilots destroyed 56 German aircraft.

    By August 1940, there were some 8,400 Polish airmen stationed in Britain.

    By this time they had undergone a process of ‘natural selection’. In other words, those that had experienced Blitzkrieg twice – and survived – clearly had a lot going for them. For the Poles, who had been driven from their homeland in 1939, only to be forced to flee again, Britain was now the ‘Island of Last Hope.’

    Eastchurch parade

    However, the RAF authorities had doubts about the value of the Polish crew. Air Chief Marshal Sir Hugh Dowding, commander of Fighter Command, refused to allow them to serve in RAF squadrons for fear they’d instil a defeatist mentality in the British airmen. Instead, national squadrons would be formed. The first were No. 300 and No. 301 bomber squadrons and No. 302 and No. 303 fighter squadrons.

    The Polish veterans knew they were good. Often older than their RAF comrades, nearly all were fully-trained and each had an average of 500 hours flying. They brought to this country valuable ‘corporate knowledge’ of the business of air fighting, and with it, the British thought, a touch of arrogance.

    On 30 August 1940, No. 303 Squadron was on a training flight near Northolt, led by Squadron Leader Ronald Kellett, when Pilot Officer Ludwick ‘Paszko’ Paszkiewicz spotted an enemy formation being attacked by Hurricanes. Paszkiewicz called out to Kellet but, receiving no reply, he broke formation and promptly shot down a Messerschmitt 110. On landing, the Pole was reprimanded by Kellett for his indiscipline and then congratulated for his success. That evening Paszkiewicz, deeply religious and a teetotaller, got drunk for the first time in his life. The following day, 303 Squadron was declared operational.

    At the end of the 16-week campaign, the top-scoring Fighter Command unit was No. 303 Squadron, which in only 42 days claimed 126 enemy aircraft destroyed. One of the most successful individual pilots – with 17 victories – was Sergeant Josef Frantisek, a Czech who also flew with ‘303’.

    303 group

    Frantiszek

    Dasz

    303

    303 rg

    Trained to get in close, Polish airmen made the most of their eight .303in machine guns; and all of the Hurricanes on No. 303 Squadron had their guns harmonised to converge at 200 yards rather than the standard RAF spread of 400 yards. However, they were not reckless. This is borne out by the fact that during the Battle No. 302 and No. 303 Squadrons each lost only eight pilots, a figure much lower than that of most RAF units.

    Pilot Officer Miroslaw Feric, a pilot on No. 303 Squadron and standing on the left in the image below, described the experience of shooting down a Messerschmitt Bf 109:

    ‘I caught up with him easily, he grew in my sights… it was time for firing. I did it quite calmly and I was not even excited, rather puzzled and surprised to see that it was so easy, quite different from Poland when you had to scrape and try until you were in a sweat, and then, instead of you getting the bastard he got you.’

    303 pilots

    The RAF was quick to recognise the calibre of the men serving with them and it should be congratulated for allowing the Polish and Czechoslovakian pilots their head. The Slavs in turn appreciated the RAF, which, according to veterans, was efficient, fair and understanding of their needs. The Air Force was also truly meritocratic and it is enough to say that it encouraged the best and the brightest of two principled, courageous and resourceful nations to participate fully in the successful defence of Britain’s airspace.

    The statistics make interesting reading. The 146 Polish pilots, some 5% of Fighter Command’s strength, claimed 203 enemy aircraft for the loss of 29 of their number killed. This represents 7.5% of Fighter Command’s total score or 1.4 enemy aircraft for every Pole engaged. On the 15th of September, now celebrated as ‘Battle of Britain Day’, one in five of the pilots in action was Polish.

    Dowding admitted he was wrong about the Poles, and would write:

    ‘Had it not been for the magnificent material contributed by the Polish squadrons and their unsurpassed gallantry, I hesitate to say that the outcome of the Battle would have been the same’.

    It was not only in the air that the Poles excelled, for the ground personnel of ‘302’ and ‘303’ were the pick of the Polish Air Force. Their skill, dedication and capacity for hard work made for high rates of serviceability on the two Squadrons. The ground crews’ finest hour came after the fighting of 15 September, when No. 303 Squadron’s Flying Officer Wiorkiewicz’s team managed overnight to restore nine apparently ‘un-repairable’ Hurricanes for the next day’s operations.

    Boulton

    Polish ground crew was not all-male. Many Polish women served with the Women’s Auxiliary Air Force (WAAF). The Polish women played an important role within the Polish squadrons. The first recruit was Helena Paszkiewicz who completed her training by October 1941. Polish WAAF’s worked alongside mechanics and armourers. In all some 45 trades including domestic, clerical, medical and technical were covered by the trained Polish personnel. Nicknamed the ‘Waafki’, the Polish WAAFs were allowed to wear Polish Air Force cap badges and insignia to distinguish them from their British counterparts. Approximately 1,426 women served in the Waafki.

    WAAFSKI

    In honour of all those who served 80 years ago, we are organising our Hurricane 80K Challenge in which we are challenging you to walk, run, jog, swim or bike 80K in 80 days. More than 4,000 people have already signed up. Lisa shared with us ‘Today as part of my 80K challenge I ran 20K around East Sussex. This beautiful memorial was for “Warrant Officer Stanislaw Jozefiak” who served in the war (1940-1946) in the Polish Air Force. It totally made me reflect on how lucky we all are because of brave service men and women’.

    The Hurricane 80K Challenge was created to inspire you all with the Battle of Britain story. But it has taken on a new meaning to many of us during this difficult time.

    Lisa

    ewg

    Hurricane80K

  • The RAF’s role in the evacuation of Dunkirk

    The RAF’s role in the evacuation of Dunkirk

    Operation DYNAMO, the evacuation of Dunkirk, commenced on the evening of 26 May 1940. By the time the evacuation ceased on the morning of 4 June, 338,000 Allied troops had been brought away. Although Britain had lost almost all the heavy equipment and artillery it had despatched to France, the recovery of the troops of the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) allowed it to rebuild its armies. If the men of the BEF had been captured at Dunkirk there was little prospect of Britain continuing in the War, their recovery provided the seed corn for the British Army, rebuilt and expanded, to help defeat Nazi Germany. The success of DYNAMO was widely celebrated at the time as a miracle of deliverance and the ‘Dunkirk spirit’ has become the British epitome of stoicism in the face of utter adversity.

    The success of DYNAMO was not just celebrated in Britain. The myth of the little ships, collected from British ports and crewed by citizen sailors, crossing the Channel to rescue the nation’s soldiers held an idealism almost ready made to appeal to the American public. Even before the evacuation was complete RL Duffus penned an editorial in The New York Times which helped convey what Dunkirk promised for the future arguing that:

    ‘So long as the English tongue survives, the word Dunkirk will be spoken with reverence. For in that harbour, in such a hell as never blazed on earth before, at the end of a lost battle, the rags and blemishes that have hidden the soul of democracy fell away. There, beaten but unconquered, in shining splendour, she faced the enemy… It was the common man of the free countries… This shining thing in the souls of free men Hitler cannot command, or attain, or conquer… It is the great tradition of democracy. It is the future. It is victory.’

    On 4 June 1940, Churchill caution the House of Commons that ‘wars are not won by evacuations’. Many will be more familiar with the final part of his address on 4 June where he exhorted that in Britain:

    ‘We shall go on to the end. We shall fight in France, we shall fight on the seas and oceans, we shall fight with growing confidence and growing strength in the air, we shall defend our island, whatever the cost may be. We shall fight on the beaches, we shall fight on the landing grounds, we shall fight in the fields and in the streets, we shall fight in the hills; we shall never surrender.’

    The reference to ‘growing strength in the air’ was not Churchill’s only reference to the Royal Air Force. In the main part of Churchill’s address, he noted that:

    ‘there was a victory inside this deliverance, which should be noted. It was gained by the Air Force. Many of our soldiers coming back have not seen the Air Force at work; they saw only the bombers which escaped its protective attack. They underrate its achievements.’

    If Churchill’s rhetoric didn’t dispel all criticism from the men who, whilst at Dunkirk, asked ‘where was the RAF?’ it has subsequently shaped the histories of DYNAMO. The supposed absence of the RAF at Dunkirk is now recounted as another myth in histories of DYNAMO.

    Instead of asking what the RAF accomplished historians have previously satisfied themselves with demonstrating that the RAF was at Dunkirk. Fighter Command’s 2,200 sorties during the nine days of the evacuation demonstrate that the extreme view — that the RAF did nothing — is absurd. The extent that RAF contributed to the result is, however, far less clear.

    DefiantHurris

    bader

    Pilots

    Comparing the losses of the RAF to those of the Luftwaffe during the DYNAMO is no way to gauge the effectiveness of the two air forces. It is, however, one frequently employed by historians and was used by Churchill at the time to defend the RAF when he claimed it inflicted four times the losses it suffered. During DYNAMO Fighter Command lost 87 airmen and over 100 aircraft to enemy action over Dunkirk whilst the Luftwaffe lost 97 aircraft to the RAF, with others damaged but repairable, these included 28 Messerschmitt Me 109s and 13 Me 110s.

    The measure of Fighter Command’s success, however, is not in the destruction of enemy aircraft but the extent to which it defended the evacuation. Initially, the RAF attempted to provide continuous air cover, but faced with large German formations it adapted its tactics and instead looked to provide air cover in strength — with patrols involving four squadrons — but not continuous air cover. The move from stronger patrols at less frequent intervals was not successful.

    The four squadron patrols were often unable to cooperate effectively over Dunkirk. The flying conditions over Dunkirk, with low-cloud and thick smoke, would have taxed pilots experienced in combat operations as part of larger formations. During DYNAMO, it was almost impossible for patrols involving more than two squadrons to maintain contact and fight together. By the time the patrol had reached the French coast the squadrons had become separated and the patrols broke up into single, or pairs of squadrons, with part of the patrol below the cloud cover whilst others, having initially been instructed to provide top cover, flew above it. The result was that there was ineffective support between the squadrons at different heights and the force structure of the patrol was wasted.

    The larger patrols also quickly became disorganised in combat, as the squadrons fragmented into sections, largely dissipating the effect of the patrol. Norman Hancock, a Pilot Officer in No. 1 Squadron, recalled that:

    ‘You went as a squadron towards your target. You were in appropriate formation but once you’d engaged the enemy then by and large people tended to split up. You might get the odd pair who stayed together, but by and large the squadron was split up and individually attacked targets. You didn’t stay as a solid machine of 12 aeroplanes pointing in the right direction. It didn’t work that way… everybody disappeared. … [After the first attack] there was no cohesion to the squadron.’

    The patrols by four squadrons reduced the combat effectiveness of Fighter Command and it is evident that more frequent patrols, involving only two squadrons, would have been more effective. This was a lesson drawn and learnt from the air cover by the officer in charge, Air Vice-Marshal Keith Park, and he applied that lesson during the Battle of Britain despite the vociferous advocation of larger formations from elsewhere in Fighter Command.

    Following the move to larger formations there were only two clear days of weather for the Luftwaffe to launch full scale attacks. On the first day, 29 May, the evacuation suffered heavily and the Royal Navy temporarily suspended the use of its modern destroyers — a decision which based on the lift capacity of remaining ships would have left over 100,000 men to be captured. On the second day of clear weather, 1 June, daylight evacuations were suspended. One defence of the RAF’s air cover is that German artillery fire west of Dunkirk was at least as responsible for that decision. A detailed review of the decision behind the suspension indicates this is entirely false.

    One consequence of the decision to suspend daylight evacuations was that over 30,000 men of the French rear-guard were abandoned at the end of the evacuation. For the French military, Dunkirk was ‘certainly not a victory’ but rather ‘the least unfortunate resolution of what could have been a catastrophe’.

    Losses within the evacuation fleet were also significant. The total loss of named ships and vessels during DYNAMO exceeded 190 of which 45 were definitely the result of air attack. Many ships were lost in situations where air attack could be considered contributory factors. Furthermore, the ships lost or damaged owing to ‘collision or other misadventure’ were largely smaller craft. If smaller crafts and types are excluded, the total loss of named ships was at least 79. Air attack was the cause of 56 percent of these losses, E-Boats, U-Boats and mines caused 18 percent, and artillery fire caused 6 percent. The Royal Navy alone lost six destroyers and six minesweepers, with another 19 destroyers and seven minesweepers damaged. Furthermore, a number of ships quit the evacuation because of the German air attack. This was not isolated to civilian crews. The air attack was so exceptionally severe on 29 May that one of the Royal Navy’s destroyers — HMS Verity — did not sail for Dunkirk again because of the psychological effect of the Luftwaffe’s attacks on the crew, and a member of the ship’s company later attempted to commit suicide on the mess deck.

    It is also necessary to remember that the Luftwaffe successfully destroyed the harbour facilities at Dunkirk. This should have made large scale embarkation impossible and left the evacuation dependant on the number of men who could be lifted from the beaches. Instead, the Royal Navy’s extemporised use of the Dunkirk Mole made it possible to rapidly embark large numbers of men on to the ships capable of crossing the Channel at speed.

    photograph

    vessels

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    Uboat

    The RAF’s contribution was not, however, limited to the air cover provided by Fighter Command. Coastal Command flew patrols across shipping routes in the English Channel, patrolled the Belgian and Dutch coasts for enemy naval activity and undertook bombing raids. Patrols were also flown in an attempt to prevent interference from German submarines and Schnellbooten (designated as U- and E-Boats respectively by the British). The threat of U-boats with unrestricted access to the evacuation fleet is an obvious one but the work of Coastal Command against E-Boats and was of particular importance. These craft were fast, manoeuvrable motor boats armed with torpedoes and fast-firing light anti-aircraft guns.

    German U-Boats and fast attack E-boats were a significant threat to the evacuation, particularly before the switch from Route Y, the longest naval route to Britain. The SS Abukir was lost on 28 May to the E-boat S-34. The S-34 torpedoed Abukir at point blank range. Only 24 survivors of Abukir were recovered and, according to some estimates she had sailed with 500 souls on board. Amongst those were a number of RAF aircrews almost all of whom were lost.

    On the night of 29 May, a British destroyer HMS Wakeful was lost following a torpedo attack by a German E-Boat and sank immediately. A second destroyer, HMS Grafton, stopped to rescue survivors and was torpedoed by a German U-Boat. In the confusion that followed HMS Comfort, a 60-ton drifter, was fired upon and then rammed and sunk by HMS Lydd.

    On 31 May the French destroyer Sirocco was sunk by an attack made by the German E-Boat. Earlier, the French Destroyer Cyclone had been damaged by a torpedo fired from the German E-Boat S-24. However, against the continuous sustained period of operations one might expect such losses to be far greater than they were. For instance, on the night of 31 May, four groups of German E-boats were positioned east of Dunkirk.

    The disruption caused to the evacuation by German naval vessels could have been far greater had it not been for the patrols of Coastal Command. As well as providing advanced warning of E-Boat movements the operations by both Avro Ansons and Lockheed Hudsons of Coastal Command made the movement of E-Boats on the Dutch Coast difficult during daylight.

    Avro

    Anson

    Hudson

    Hudson nose

    Throughout DYNAMO, aircraft from Coastal Command repeatedly attacked E-Boats as these craft, travelling in small formations, attempted to take up position to attack ships along the evacuation route. The damage caused by these attacks was not significant. As Jack Watchous, a wireless operator in No. 500 Squadron, recalls (X008-3301), the E-Boats were difficult targets to effectively hit. They were small, capable of rapid evasive action, and their anti-aircraft guns put up ‘an amazing amount of fire’. The attacks of Coastal Command were significant, and forced E-Boats to alter course away from the evacuation to evade further bombing. German E-Boat commanders acknowledged that on at least one occasion they had had to curtail their night mission because of delays caused by British air operations. E-Boat commanders reported in June that further operations were dependant on the E-Boats being provided with sufficient air cover.

    Bomber Command also undertook an active role during the Dunkirk evacuation. Attacks were made on a number of targets with tactical importance. The destruction caused was, as with the efforts of Coastal Command, of less direct importance than the delays these attacks produced.

    JRW

    Troop concentration points were bombed during this period and Bomber Command in particular, undertook a number of sorties against the German rear areas in an attempt to disrupt the German attempts to resupply their forward units. In the early evening of the 27 May, 24 Bristol Blenheims of Number 2 Group bombed German motor convoys and rail yards which were bringing up supplies. Vickers Wellingtons of Bomber Command undertook sorties by night in an attempt to disrupt German movement to, and supply of, the Dunkirk bridgehead.

    On 25 May, No. 2 Group issued instructions to its squadrons as to the nature of the situation they faced:

    ‘Examination of photographs shows very important targets and of such a size, which if attacked effectively could not fail to materially assist the situation on the ground. … the critical situation of the BEF in Northern France and Belgium [means] it is essential that all our attacks are pressed home with vigour.’

    The primary objective of daylight operations varied at different points of the Dunkirk evacuation; however, the attacks aimed to disorganise, and cause the maximum interference to, the enemy’s lines of communication and logistics network and were maintained throughout DYNAMO.
    Many crews of Bomber Command returned with reports of ‘direct hits’, however, all too frequently these reports proved overly optimistic and little physical damage resulted from the attacks. The delays produced by Bomber Command’s attacks may only have been measured in hours, however, during the critical stages of the evacuation this was sufficient to provide a measure of relief to the Allied rear-guard on the perimeter at Dunkirk. The German forces at Dunkirk were at the end of extended supply lines, infantry was being brought up to engage Allied forces on the perimeter and artillery moved further south to the formations preparing for further operation against the remaining French forces. Furthermore, the sluice gates controlling the irrigation around Dunkirk had been opened and, although the flooding was not widespread, it restricted the German lines of approach to the perimeter.

    The inundation in front of the Dunkirk perimeter contributed to the decisive success Bomber Command Blenheims achieved on 31 May. The Commander of the British 12th Infantry Brigade, which held the perimeter from opposite Nieuport to the sea, recorded that during the afternoon of 31 May:

    ‘a determined attack was launched upon our front — the third within a period of 12 hours. The leading German waves were stopped by our light machine-gun force and mortar fire, but strong enemy reserves were observed moving through Nieuport and on the roads to the canal north-west of Nieuport. At this moment some RAF bombers arrived and bombed Nieuport and the roads north-west of it. The effect was instantaneous and decisive — all movement of enemy reserves stopped: many of the forward German troops turned and fled, suffering severely from the fire of our machine-guns.’

    Lance-Corporal Alf Hewitt — 1st Battalion, South Lancashire Regiment — recalled the attack occurring as the Germans massed for an attempt to cross the Yser canal behind an artillery barrage. On hearing aircraft approaching Hewitt recalled that:

    ‘we were fed up with being attacked from the air so we got really panicky as they flew low over our heads. But they were RAF planes and right before our eyes they gave Jerry a real pasting. That was the only time I saw the RAF in action, but it really worked. The Germans broke and ran.’

    David Tyacke — 2nd Battalion, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry — also witnessed the attack and recalled that:

    ‘there was a roar of engines from behind us … and suddenly in swept the most marvellous sight … nine Blenheims very close in three vics of three. … They went straight over us and dropped their bombs obviously on the Germans. We could see the bomb splashes going up.’

    These attacks, the effectiveness of which was recognised by those on the perimeter, helped stabilise the eastern side of the perimeter at a critical moment of Operation DYNAMO. (TNA: Air 20/4447). The British official history would describe this bombing as ‘one of the really successful examples of close co-operation’ during the Battle of France delivered ‘as the enemy were moving up additional troops and the threat of a real break-through was serious’. Following the bombing, no further attacks were made before 4th Division, holding these positions, retired to the beaches.

    Blenheim

    Bomber Command was also engaged in attacks on targets to the rear of the German forces, and undertook a considerable number of night attacks against targets deemed to be of tactical importance. Bomber Command’s night attacks in support of the Allied ground forces were primarily planned to delay the transportation of troop movements and supplies by roads and railways. They were also intended to cause confusion, prevent rest, and stop work in the German rear areas. To achieve these aims Wellingtons of No. 3 Group were directed to carry out ‘sustained attack on columns and concentrations of troops, transports and AFVs [armoured vehicles] and on trains’. The bombing of marshalling yards and railway lines caused definite delays. Although the results of the delays created by Bomber Command should not be overstated, they did have an effect on the already strained German logistics system.

    For the RAF, DYNAMO was in part a story of marginal contributions by Bomber Command as well as successful low-level air defence, reconnaissance and anti-naval patrols by Coastal Command and the Fleet Air Arm. The main operations of the RAF, undertaken by Fighter Command, were, however, less successful despite the overall result of the evacuation.

  • Hidden Heroes

    Hidden Heroes

    The Royal Air Force Museum highlights the diverse nature of Britain’s flying services over time. We do this because we are entrusted with telling the story of the RAF Family, which has strong and vibrant branches all over the world. We are, moreover, conscious of the need to provide exhibitions and outreach that are inspiring and relevant to all sections of Britain’s cosmopolitan society. What emerges clearly from our work is the success with which the RAF has embraced integration; and how this has enabled it to get the best from its people.

    Launched in the spring of 2018, the RAF Museum’s ‘Hidden Heroes’ project has explored and shared inspiring, and little-known, stories with our communities, our business partners and our RAF colleagues. The project has witnessed close co-operation between Museum departments to harness our unique collections; and dynamic partnerships with external organisations and individuals willing to support our fundraising activities.

    ‘Hidden Heroes’ has been masterminded by Renee Coppinger, the Museum’s Development Manager. Renee hails from New Jersey, and has brought some of her native ingenuity to bear on a project as complex as it is rewarding.


    renee

    In 2013, the BBC’s ‘Who Do You Think You Are’ programme brought actress Minnie Driver to the RAF Museum to find out about her late father, Ronnie. As Aircraftman 1st Class Charles Ronald Driver, the front gunner of a No. 9 Squadron Wellington bomber, Ronnie displayed outstanding bravery during the disastrous Battle of Heligoland Bight on 18 December 1939. Although Minnie’s father was immediately awarded the Distinguished Flying Medal, she knew nothing about this chapter of his life. It was then that the phrase ‘Hidden Heroes’ was coined. Minnie now acts as an ambassador for the RAF Museum, promoting our work and raising awareness of people, like her father, whose stories need to be told.

    Ronald

    On 22 March 2018, the Harmony Club of New York City, in cordial partnership with the RAF Museum’s American Foundation, provided the venue for the inauguration of the ‘Hidden Heroes’ project. Joshua Levine is an author and broadcaster, and was a historical adviser on Christopher Nolan’s feature film ‘Dunkirk.’ He is also an RAF Museum ambassador. In New York, Joshua gave an inspiring presentation that described how, during the Second World War, 20,000 Jewish men and women – some six percent of Britain’s Jewish population joined the RAF to fight against tyranny, racism and anti-Semitism. Joshua showed how these people served shoulder to shoulder with comrades of all faiths in every Branch of the Service, and how they earned a reputation for exceptional courage and devotion to duty.

    He also stressed that throughout the war, Jewish airmen and airwomen volunteered for the front line fully aware that they risked torture and execution if captured. Over 900 of their number sacrificed their lives in defence of their families, faith and tradition and for what they believed was right.

    Here are some of the ‘Hidden Heroes’ Joshua was pleased to introduce that evening:

    Sam and Doris Miara, were a Cardiff couple who responded to Kristallnacht (the pogrom on Germany’s Jewish communities in November 1938) by selling their clothing business and joining the Air Force. In April 1941, Sam, a No. 38 Squadron wireless operator, was killed on board a Wellington in the Middle East. The loving, and sometimes heart-rending, letters the Miara’s exchanged while apart are held in the RAF Museum’s Archive.

    Sam

    Bernard Kreger, was a young Londoner who volunteered for the RAF as soon as he came of age. An Air Ministry clerk misspelled his surname “Kregor”, but so strong was Bernard’s desire to take the fight to the enemy, he cheerfully accepted the new name and used it for the rest of his life. Kregor became a mechanic, but later applied to train as a bomber navigator. When asked by a Wing Commander why he wanted such a dangerous job, he replied ‘Sir, I am a Jew, and my war with the enemy began long before September 1939.’ In 2003, Bernard gave the Museum the Forces Jewish Prayer Book he had carried with him for comfort and guidance throughout the war.

    kregor

    Andrew Mamedoff, a United States citizen of Russian parentage, flew Spitfires with No. 609 Squadron. One of 34 Jewish pilots to serve in the Battle of Britain, he later became a founding member of No. 71 (Eagle) Squadron: the first of three RAF units composed of American volunteers. Lively, witty and brave, Andy Mamedoff was killed on 8 October 1941 when his aircraft crashed on the Isle of Man in poor weather.

    After proving to be a skilful pilot in training, Lawrence ‘Benny’ Goodman was retained as an instructor for much of the war. Benny eventually persuaded his commanding officer to release him to a front-line unit; and in August 1944, he was selected to join No. 617 Squadron, the celebrated “Dambusters.” In the last months of the war, he flew Lancasters on daylight missions delivering 12,000lb Tallboy and 22,000lb Grand Slam earthquake bombs. He participated in the raid that finally sank the Tirpitz on 12 November 1944, and attacked Hitler’s mountain residence at Berchtesgaden on 25 April 1945. Benny is a Londoner by birth and is in his centenary year.

    Benny Goodman

    benn

    Alfred Huberman, who lives close to the RAF Museum, flew as a Lancaster rear gunner with Nos. 576 and 83 Squadrons. Although Alfred completed 38 bombing operations against targets in Nazi Germany and occupied Europe, he told his family he was serving with a training unit so they wouldn’t worry. Advised to change the religion stamped on his identity tags before flying over the Reich, Alfred politely refused, saying ‘I’ve lived my life as a Jew and I’ll die as a Jew.’

    Joshua’s thought-provoking paper went over exceptionally well with his American audience, who were surprised and delighted by these new stories. On 16 April, he successfully reprised his presentation at the Beverley Hills Hotel on Sunset Boulevard; again, embracing the heroism, comradeship and success enjoyed by Jewish people in RAF blue. He was joined in Los Angeles by Minnie, who spoke movingly about her father’s battle with PTSD after experiencing the death of his close friend, Walter Lilley, the rear gunner on the ill-fated mission in 1939.

    At the start of 2018, the Governor of Gibraltar, His Excellency Ed Davis, and the CO of RAF Gibraltar, Wing Commander John Kane, invited the Museum to mount a ‘Hidden Heroes’ event there to commemorate the Service’s centenary. On 8 May 2018, Wing Commander Sophy Gardner MBE, a retired RAF officer, researching a PhD with the Museum’s support, gave a presentation about the RAF and Gibraltar attended by 90 people. Sophy writes:

    ‘Anyone who has flown to Gibraltar airport for the first time will have been impressed by the dramatic views of the Rock from the air. I remember the boss of the RAF detachment had obtained an enormous RAF100 banner which he hung close to the border crossing so that it would greet every person who arrived in Gibraltar, on foot, by plane or by car that year! I discovered during my research at the Garrison Library that a Short Type 184 Seaplane made the RAF’s first flight from Gibraltar on 9 May 1918. I gave my talk on the eve of this one-hundred-year anniversary and it felt very special to be able to share that news with our lovely audience.’

    Another, perhaps strange, coincidence is that General George Augustus Eliott, who successfully defended Gibraltar during The Great Siege of 1779 to 1783, has a connection with the RAF Museum. It transpires that one of ‘The Cock of the Rock’s’ direct descendants was Air Chief Marshal Sir William Elliot, the head of RAF Fighter Command from 1947-1949. Sir William’s personal Spitfire Mk. XVI, RW393, is currently on display in Hangar 3 at the RAF Museum in London.

    Word of ‘Hidden Heroes’ travelled far and wide, and there was a buzz of anticipation when the project at last came home to the RAF Museum on the evening of 15 November 2018. In an enjoyable and well-attended event at our London site, Joshua again gave his inspiring presentation, and again, it was well-received. Five proud Jewish veterans were guests of honour: Lawrence ‘Benny’ Goodman; Alfred Huberman; Bernard Carton, a former Bomber Command flight engineer; Jack Toper, a Bomber Command wireless operator who survived being badly burned and became a plastic surgery ‘Guinea Pig’; and Ralph Levy, who served as a ground engineer during the Berlin Airlift of 1948-1949. These Jewish airmen were warmly applauded by a grateful audience.

    Hidden Heroes

    Gibraltar has been described as a ‘beacon of tolerance’ and it has a large and long-established Jewish population. A partnership between GIBRAEL, the Gibraltar-Israel Chamber of Commerce, and the RAF Museum, brought ‘Hidden Heroes’ to the territory for a second time on 20 February 2019. Joshua addressed an enthusiastic audience of 75 people which again included His Excellency Ed Davis and Wing Commander John Kane, representatives of Gibraltar’s Jewish community, and several British military personnel. All responded warmly to Joshua’s presentation, which had been refreshed by the inclusion of new stories generated by the Museum’s pro-active PR work and collecting policy. The ‘Hidden Heroes’ project was by now well established and growing in popularity, and in autumn came more exciting news.

    On 13 November 2019, it was announced that the Royal Air Force Museum and the Chelsea Foundation would work together in a partnership sponsored by the owner of Chelsea FC, Roman Abramovich. This partnership would support the RAF Museum’s development of the Jewish ‘Hidden Heroes’ project, and would be timed to coincide with the 80th anniversary of the Battle of Britain in 2020. Maggie Appleton MBE, CEO of the Museum said:

    ‘We are tremendously grateful to Roman Abramovich and Chelsea FC for supporting the RAF Museum’s Jewish ‘Hidden Heroes’ project. The Battle of Britain was the RAF’s defining moment, when they stood firm against Hitler and fascism. With many Jewish RAF personnel playing crucial roles, the 80th anniversary of the Battle of Britain in 2020 provides the perfect opportunity to remember these incredible people. By highlighting their stories, we want to play our part in calling out the rise in anti-Semitism – and wider racism – in our society.’

    Bruce Buck, Chelsea FC’s Chairman said in turn:

    ‘We are delighted to be able to support the RAF Museum with this project. Chelsea FC is committed to tackling anti-Semitism through education and the Jewish ‘Hidden Heroes’ [project] tells important stories about the bravery of Jewish RAF personnel during the conflict.’

    The partnership was formally launched on 4 December 2019 at Stamford Bridge, Chelsea FC’s ground in West London. Before the game that afternoon, Benny Goodman and Bernard Carton were introduced to the appreciative crowd. The Jewish ‘Hidden Heroes’ project has generated much positive media coverage, with features appearing in the Times, the Guardian, the Daily Mail, the Times of Israel and RAFA’s ‘Air Mail’ magazine.

    The RAF Museum and Chelsea Foundation are now inviting people from all over the world to submit their own stories – as well as those of families and friends of Jewish personnel in the Second World War – so that they can be preserved and shared online at the Museum’s public sites. Stage One of the Jewish ‘Hidden Heroes’ project involves the collation of stories from Jewish personnel within the Museum’s RAF Stories digital site. The project will eventually include: video interviews with Jewish veterans and family members; animated videos of Jewish stories drawn from the Museum’s archives; and screenings of these videos in its galleries.

    Let the last words be those of Joshua Levine who has explored and shared what it meant to be Jewish in wartime in New York, Los Angeles, Gibraltar and in London. Joshua concludes:

    ‘The received wisdom that Jewish people were the victims of the Second World War has eclipsed any evidence that they fought back. But Jews did fight back. Jews, men and women, desperate to hit back at the Nazis, joined the Royal Air Force. This project is hugely important, and as the nephew of a wartime Wellington pilot, I’m exceptionally proud to be involved.’

    Wellington

  • A short history of RAF bomb disposal

    A short history of RAF bomb disposal

    The RAF’s specialist bomb disposal unit, No. 5131 Squadron, disbanded last month, with its responsibilities passing to the British Army. Here, we look back on the history of RAF bomb disposal.

    5131

    In every bombing campaign since the First World War a proportion of the bombs dropped have failed to go off; even in peacetime there is an ongoing need to deal with weapons that have failed to detonate during training on dedicated ranges, terrorist bombs or munitions left over from previous wars. Over many years an increasingly sophisticated organisation has developed to deal with these weapons, to which all three services have contributed, together with government and civilian agencies. RAF bomb disposal teams have, from the Second World War onwards and alongside their British Army, Royal Navy and civilian colleagues, made a significant contribution to this work. As Dave Lowe, an RAF bomb disposal operator, explained, RAF bomb disposal teams provide ‘specialist knowledge for things like ejection seats and missiles … it gives a subject-matter expert view on air-delivered weapons, on how they operate, how they work and what needs to be done to them’.

    In recent years, bomb disposal within the UK has been divided between the Royal Navy, British Army and RAF on largely geographical lines, with the Metropolitan Police providing their own capability in London. Mike Stocks, a former commanding officer of No. 5131 Squadron, explained how ‘We had a call-out responsibility for improvised explosive devices and conventional devices, so we had an area, a patch based around Wittering that we had to respond to, in 10 minutes and 30 minutes respectively for the teams.’

    1916

    Bomb disposal within the RAF has a long history, however. During the First World War the bombs used were, for the most part, relatively small and simple in design. In many cases they could be exploded where they fell or made safe by members of the Royal Army Ordnance Corps (RAOC). Although the RAOC had expertise in handling munitions, skilled personnel were not always called on in such situations. Norman Macmillan, a pilot serving with No. 45 Squadron of the Royal Flying Corps in France, recalled how a suspected unexploded bomb on the Squadron’s airfield was dug up for inspection by a team with no training or experience in bomb disposal work – and discovered to be an unexploded British anti-aircraft shell.

    By the start of the Second World War, the RAF had developed the armourer’s trade to a much higher level of sophistication, and it naturally fell to these servicemen, with their training and expertise in air weapons, to deal with the RAF’s share of unexploded bombs during the conflict and, more specifically, bombs that fell on RAF airfields or those found in crashed aircraft. Meanwhile, the Royal Navy’s bomb disposal experts specialised, naturally enough, in naval weapons such as torpedoes and sea mines, and the Army’s Royal Engineers took on a great deal of the bomb disposal work that did not fall into the remits of the other two services.

    Courses in bomb disposal were run at various locations during the Second World War, including the RAF Armament School at RAF Manby in Lincolnshire. Christopher Draper, a naval officer who attended an early course, recalls how much of the teaching was on British bombs due to lack of knowledge of German weapons at that time:

    ‘A few weeks previously I had been sent to the R.A.F. Armament School at Manby, in Lincolnshire, for a one week course on “Unexploded Bombs”. This was more amusing than instructive because, at the first lecture, the instructor began by saying: “Of course we know nothing about German bombs yet, so we will give you this brief course on our own bombs and pyrotechnics”. Nevertheless, when, a few days after the blitz on Ford, two holes in the ground were discovered, obviously containing unexploded bombs, “Fish” sent for me and said: “You’ve just done the unexploded bomb course at Manby, so go and dig ‘em up”.’

    Mervyn Base, an RAF armourer who trained in bomb disposal at RAF Melksham in 1940, similarly remembered how ‘This course was largely based on the practical knowledge gained by Army personnel in the field, and as a result was somewhat limited’ and that at the end of the course the officer in charge said ‘Well chaps, that’s all we know to date, the rest I’m afraid you will have to find out for yourselves’.

    Experience, however, developed rapidly with the rising tempo of German air raids on the UK. One of the best-known RAF bomb disposal experts from this time, Wilson Charlton, was awarded the George Cross early in 1941; the citation published in the London Gazette gives some indication of the intensity of operations through the second half of 1940:

    ‘Flight Lieutenant Charlton is responsible for all work in connection with enemy bombs in an area comprising the greater part of two counties. Both by day and night, during recent months, he has dealt with some 200 unexploded bombs. He has successfully undertaken many dangerous missions with undaunted and unfailing courage.’

    Charlton was later sent to the Far East where, under slightly mysterious circumstances, he recovered a number of Japanese bombs and fuzes from China, providing valuable intelligence on a previously unknown area (a fuze was the component of a bomb that causes it to explode.It can work in various different ways, including detonation on hitting the ground, detonation a given time after impact or detonation if the bomb was moved after hitting the ground).

    The impact on training of the experience gained in a short time is perhaps illustrated by Alec Haarer, who trained in bomb disposal at RAF Melksham towards the end of 1940.He recalled how:

    ‘For the most part the course at Melksham gave us a good grounding on bombs and fuzes, on how they acted, on safety precautions, and on some of the methods of bomb disposal such as the use of special machines to cut out discs of metal by remote control. It was intensive training, and being new to the service and somewhat awed by the mass of information we were expected to absorb, we worked hard and soberly. We knew that safety for ourselves and our men depended on our ability to recognize one fuze from another and how it operated.’

    fuse

    freddy

    discharger

    stee

    By September 1940, 188 RAF armourer NCOs had qualified in bomb disposal. They were distributed around eighty RAF stations in the UK, known as ‘X’ stations, and were supported by mobile teams, able to move to wherever they were most needed at any given time. The organisation of RAF bomb disposal developed further in April 1943, with the formation of a wing headquarters overseeing the work of six bomb disposal squadrons. These squadrons would continue to serve through the rest of the war, several of them landing in Normandy in 1944 and one – No. 5131 Squadron – would provide the RAF’s bomb disposal capability into the 21st Century before disbandment in 2020.

    Mox

    The UK’s first unexploded bombs of the Second World War were dealt with by Arthur Merriman, a civilian specialist who had served in the Royal Army Ordnance Corps during the First World War, and Flight Lieutenant (later Squadron Leader) Eric Moxey at Sullom Voe in the Shetland Islands late in 1939. Moxey would later go on to develop an automatic fuze extractor, allowing bomb disposal operators to take cover at a distance during this potentially very dangerous procedure. This did not, however, remove all risk, as the device had to be fitted to the bomb, someone had to approach the bomb to confirm that the fuze had been extracted and it would not, in any case, always work as intended.

    The first action of the war leading to the award of a George Cross (although not the first medals to be awarded) was that of Flight Lieutenant (later Squadron Leader) John Dowland and Mr Len Harrison (an ex-RAF civilian armaments instructor) for their actions in dealing with an unexploded bomb in a steamship at Immingham Docks near Grimsby in February 1940.According to the citation ‘The bomb was extremely difficult to inspect and handle as it was wedged with its nose penetrating through the main deck’ and a similar situation was dealt with onboard a trawler in June 1940.These bombs featured a simple impact fuze, designed to detonate the bomb when it hit the ground. If it did not explode on impact it was likely to be due to a fault of some description; it was not designed to catch out anyone attempting to make it safe, but such weapons would not be long in coming.

    In the summer of 1940 disposal experts were called on to deal with unexploded German bombs fitted with the Type 17 clockwork time fuze. The clockwork mechanism could be set to detonate a bomb after an interval of anything up to more than eighty hours after being dropped, and there was no way of knowing how any particular bomb had been set; from the point of view of the bomb disposal teams, they could potentially go off at any moment. Methods were, however, developed by which Type 17 fuzes could be made safe, including the use of powerful magnets or the injection of viscous liquids to stop the clockwork mechanism.One significant contributor to this work was Wing Commander Cornelius Stevens, who developed a method of creating a vacuum within a fuze, which would then efficiently suck in the liquid and jam the mechanism. Even so, weapons such as this could cause a great deal of disruption simply by their presence, and introduced a greater degree of danger and uncertainty to the bomb disposal operator’s work; this was even more the case when used in conjunction with other types of fuze, such as those designed to detonate the bomb if it was moved or tampered with.

    One example of this was the Zussatzünder (auxiliary fuze) 40, an anti-withdrawal device fitted below a Type 17 fuze. Put simply, if the Type 17 fuze was removed from a bomb, the ZUS 40 would cause it to explode. Squadron Leader Eric Moxey, who had participated in the disposal of the unexploded bombs at Sullom Voe in the Shetlands and made a significant contribution to the development of the automatic fuze extractor, was called to RAF Biggin Hill on 27 August 1940 to deal with unexploded bombs that appeared to have new features, possibly including the ZUS 40.If the fuzes could be recovered intact they would provide valuable information, essential for operators dealing with similar bombs in future. Although he was able to defuse one bomb successfully, the second exploded, killing Squadron Leader Moxey instantly; Moxey was awarded a posthumous George Cross for his actions at Biggin Hill. An example of the ZUS 40 was retrieved for examination only days later in south Wales by Lt Archer of the Royal Engineers.

    17

    50

    zus40

    A further, even more dangerous, development was the German No 50 fuze, first identified by the British in September 1940 and an example of this was also obtained by Lt Archer. This featured highly sensitive switches that would detonate the bomb at the slightest movement after impact. When combined with the ZUS 40 anti-withdrawal device and the clockwork timer of the Type 17 fuze, all of which could be fitted to the same bomb, this created a complex problem for a bomb disposal operator to deal with. The Y fuze, first dropped on London in 1943, was another development, specifically designed to kill bomb disposal operators, and it was only due to luck, in that the first bomb encountered was faulty, that officers of the British Army’s Royal Engineers were able to retrieve an example and develop a procedure for dealing with it. Experiments showed that, if the temperature of the fuze could be lowered sufficiently through the use of liquid oxygen, the batteries would cease to provide power and the fuze could be safely removed.

    15BDS

    Alec Haarer, an RAF bomb disposal officer, recalled the danger posed by German ‘Butterfly bombs’, small anti-personnel weapons which – once dropped – could be so sensitive that even the slightest movement would set them off. Examples were urgently wanted for examination and for use in training British bomb disposal personnel, and this was greatly facilitated when Flight Sergeant Handford discovered several bombs that had failed to arm after being dropped on RAF Harlaxton in Lincolnshire in August 1941.

    Bomb disposal specialists also had to be fully aware of traps built into British bombs. Eric Chadwick recalled how the “No 37 pistol” – a fuse fitted to some British bombs – had been designed to catch out an unwary German who might try to dismantle it. According to Chadwick it was ‘easy to identify but not to deal with’ and a number of British Army bomb disposal specialists were lost to it, in addition to its intended German victims.

    The work of the bomb disposal teams did not finish with the end of the war. Huge numbers of unexploded weapons remained on battlefields and in bombed cities, and it was some time before enough of these had been dealt with that the wartime bomb-disposal teams could begin to disband, leaving a smaller number of specialists to continue into peacetime. Nor was this work without risk; on 20 August 1946, personnel of No. 5140 (Bomb Disposal) Squadron were overseeing the loading of German bombs into ships at Luebeck when a bomb was accidentally dropped and exploded, killing six people and injuring twelve. The Squadron’s commanding officer, Sqdn Ldr Hubert Dinwoodie, assisted by Corporal Roland Garred and LAC John Hatton, then established that several more bombs of the same type were more dangerous than had been realised and was able to make them safe, averting a potentially catastrophic accident.

    Second World War bombs have, however, continued to appear up until the present day and there has, since 1945, been an ongoing need to deal with these weapons as they are found. Probably the largest of these was a 12,000lb ‘Tallboy’ bomb, discovered when the water behind the Sorpe Dam in Germany was drained for repairs. It had been dropped during an attack on the dam in October 1944, and was made safe by a German specialist, Walter Mitzke, working with Flt Lt J M Waters, officer commanding the RAF’s No. 6209 Bomb Disposal Flight.

    belgiu

    ordford

    Alongside their ongoing work on ‘legacy’ munitions left over from previous wars, and the disposal of unexploded weapons dropped during training, the smaller conflicts of the Cold War period also provided work for bomb disposal teams. Two RAF bomb disposal specialists, Ted Costick and Alan Swan, each awarded the Queen’s Gallantry Medal, highlight some of this work.

    In 1974 Flt Lt Ted Costick was serving at RAF Akrotiri in Cyprus as Officer in Charge of the Explosives Servicing Flight of the Weapons Engineering Squadron. Turkish air attacks during the conflict of 1974 provided a considerable amount of work for Costick and his bomb disposal teams, including a bomb buried in mud, a 750lb bomb in a 6th-floor hotel room in Famagusta and the clearance of a number of unexploded weapons from Nicosia International Airport.

    In 1982 an RAF bomb disposal team was sent to the Falkland Islands as part of the task force following the Argentinean invasion. Flt Lt Alan Swan, commander of the team, was called on to deal with two unexploded bombs lodged in the hospital at Ajax Bay. As Alan Swan remembered:

    ‘It was a bomb in the roof, a bomb in the fridge; the bomb in the fridge had a fuze that I think, they made it up, just welded this on, welded that on, and we had no kit that we could [use] to get at it, and I spoke to the colonel and he said ‘well, we’re going to Stanley shortly, so is it going to go off? I said “well, I would say no”, but, I said, just to put my money where my mouth is, I’ll sleep in that room and a) it was the only empty room, because it had an unexploded bomb in it and b) I was convinced it wasn’t going to go off. And the one in the roof, we couldn’t get at really, we’d have [had] to drop it to get at it, so again I was convinced it wasn’t going to go off so we left it and the army follow-up teams took it out.’

    Alan Swan and his team then moved on to Goose Green:

    ‘My prime directive was to go to Goose Green and clear a Harrier landing strip, which we did, and when we got there we found napalm by the ton on these steel-runnered sledges in the establishment, where the people lived and so that was a major effort trying to get that out without striking sparks and then when we blew it up, Christ, I didn’t know that napalm would blow up like that but it was a massive explosion, massive, and we looked up and we could see one of these things had flattened out, it was the size, like two of those doors, we could see it spinning, coming down to earth, like that, we were running this way, that way, wow, it would have taken you to pieces.’

    falklands

    RAF bomb disposal teams would continue to deal with a variety of situations, involving conventional and terrorist weapons, through the years after the Falklands War, but it was not until the Kosovo conflict in the late 1990s that an RAF bomb disposal team would again deploy overseas. In Kosovo, RAF personnel worked closely with the Royal Engineers to clear a large number of unexploded bombs, shells and other weapons left by the conflict. Michael Haygarth, an RAF officer serving with No. 5131 (Bomb Disposal) Squadron, recalled how, in conjunction with the Royal Engineers, they ‘carried out hundreds of tasks in Kosovo, the guys were doing between eight and thirteen tasks a day, the teams, they were going out at first light, back at last light, we worked with loads of different nations out there, we worked with loads of the non-government organisations, Mine Action Clearance and all those sort of people.’The value of deploying both RAF and Royal Engineers to Kosovo was also highlighted; as Haygarth explained: ‘They were really good with land-service ammunition, mines and mortars and things, we were really good with air-dropped bombs.’

    Dave Lowe, an RAF NCO with No. 5131 (BD) Squadron in Kosovo, recalled how, in contrast to what was to come later in Iraq and Afghanistan: ‘the operations in Kosovo were more routine and it was a peaceful environment; while there was still hostility between people there wasn’t a threat to us, we would routinely not wear body armour in our Land Rover and I wouldn’t carry a weapon if I didn’t need to.’

    The use of improvised explosive devices (IEDs) by a variety of terrorist organisations has been one of the major challenges faced by bomb disposal specialists for many decades. While the weapons used by the armed forces of nation states are likely to have been produced by a known manufacturer and to conform to identifiable patterns, the unpredictable nature and highly variable quality and complexity of IEDs have made them particularly difficult to deal with. Although the devices produced by some groups, or by an individual acting alone, might have been relatively crude, the devices produced by the IRA in Northern Ireland during the Troubles often reached a high level of sophistication, and were dealt with by the very highly-trained Ammunition Technical Officers (ATOs) of the Royal Army Ordnance Corps (RAOC) and then of the Royal Logistics Corps (RLC) after the RAOC was absorbed into the newly-formed RLC in 1993.

    The IEDs (or ‘roadside bombs’) used in Iraq and Afghanistan during the early years of the 21st Century posed a further significant threat and these, as with the bombs found in Northern Ireland, would normally be dealt with by the ATOs of the RLC. However, during the conflict in Afghanistan the RLC’s High-Threat IED course – the training course through which a bomb disposal operator became qualified to deal with the devices found in Iraq and Afghanistan – was opened to personnel from other branches of the armed forces and Dave Lowe, an armourer by trade, was the first member of the RAF to pass this highly demanding course. As Lowe explained it:

    ‘The definition of high-threat then is complex weapons, it can be a complex weapon including RC [Radio Control], so sophisticated in its design. It can be the sheer amount of IEDs, so it could be that there’s so many of them that it was dangerous by that virtue, it could involve suicide bombers, so they’ve got a suicide bomb threat and multiple devices linked together.’

    In Afghanistan, the IEDs found were not necessarily very complex in their design, but the sheer number of devices planted by the Taliban caused a significant problem for western forces in the country. In addition, considerations such as climate, terrain and the threat of Taliban attack made the use of robots and protective ‘bomb suits’ impractical on many occasions. From his own experience, Lowe recalled how:

    ‘There was a big clearance of a road and there was basically an IED belt along this highway, if you want to call it that, it wasn’t tarmacked or anything but we needed to clear that road to link up forces and it was a huge operation and in two kilometres of road in about 48 hours I think I probably did nineteen tasks. I think twelve of those were IEDs or something, I can’t remember but it was just the sheer work, I was finishing one, doing the next, doing the next, doing the next, doing the next so it was just continual, catch a bit of sleep and as soon as I could, do some more.’

    Bomb disposal has developed a great deal since 1939, when Arthur Merriman and Eric Moxey approached the UK’s first unexploded bombs of the Second World War. They, and their counterparts in the Royal Navy and British Army, were just beginning to develop the experience and professionalism to be seen in their successors of the 21st Century.The technology involved has clearly developed a great deal, and the situation in Iraq or Afghanistan in the early 21st Century was a long way removed from that of the UK in the 1940s.

    Some things, on the other hand, have changed little. There is still the same pendulum between the development of bombs, with new features intended to make them increasingly dangerous to their intended victims, and the development of new techniques by which these devices can be made safe. Some of the techniques have themselves endured for a long time, perhaps in some cases by virtue of their simplicity – the use of a cord to pull a component out of a bomb from a safe distance is one example.

    And finally, there is the courage of the bomb disposal operator, making the ‘long walk’ to a bomb with the intention of making it safe. Whether dropped by the Luftwaffe or planted by the Taliban, this, more than anything, has stayed the same.

    Man

  • The bomber will always get through

    The bomber will always get through

    Even before the first aircraft took to the skies, theorists had envisaged their role in war. The very first bombers were nothing more than the standard little biplanes of the day, flying at 50 to 60 mph. Almost naturally, pilots took it to themselves to carry a few grenades with them and throw them out of a totally open and exposed cockpit. Another popular weapon of the earliest days was bundles of ‘flechettes’. These were nothing more than metal darts without explosives. The idea was that a bunch of these would pierce through the helmets of soldiers below. They caused quite a bit of panic, but it was quickly realised that the chance of being hit by these projectiles was very unlikely.

    flechettes

    Gradually the first bombs were designed, such as the 20 lb Cooper bomb, and bomb sights were developed, very rudimentary at first but still a great improvement. As engines became more powerful, more bombs could be carried over longer distance. This culminated with the Handley Page bombers, especially the massive V/1500 which was designed to fly missions to Berlin and back. This shows the revolutionary advances in aviation; only 9 years earlier Louis Blériot struggled to get across the English Channel.

    The Interwar period saw the RAF focus on ‘policing the Empire’, a terrible euphemism for suppressing local revolts. Aircraft turned out to be the perfect weapon to control large territories and bomb tribes into submission. It was a sign of things to come, though we shouldn’t fall into the trap of moral equivalence; the times were different back then …

    V/1500

    In the 1930s clouds appeared over Europe as the menace from Nazi Germany grew. The prevailing thought was ‘The bomber will always get through’. At the time, bombers had a slight performance advantage over fighters due to having multiple engines. This was the time before radar and a timely interception was deemed unlikely.

    It was believed that bomber aircraft would dominate and even decide future wars. When the Second World War broke out, many people and military theorists such as Basil Liddell Hart speculated that much of Europe would be destroyed by fleets of bomber aircraft. Not only bombs, but also poison gas was most feared. In London, this led to a mass evacuation of children. Not only their lives were at stake, but the future of Britain.

    Yet, reality turned out to be different for both sides. Bomber Command which was formed in 1936 to group all the RAF bomber squadrons was mainly equipped with light bomber aircraft, such as the Fairey Battle and Bristol Blenheim, carrying only a small payload, with insufficient protection. Very vulnerable against ground fire and fighter interceptions, they were soon forced to fly under the cover of darkness. Basic navigation technology meant targets were difficult to find at night, let alone bomb accurately.

    Battles

    While Bomber Command expanded and introduced heavier bombers such as the Short Stirling and Avro Lancaster, limitations on targets were gradually broken down. A now controversial decision was taken to target civilian centres and break German morale. City after city was bombed by releasing a deadly combination of huge blast bombs and incendiary devices. This ‘area bombing’ strategy was partially driven as a retaliation of similar German actions, but also because accurate bombing of factories, bridges or military installations was impossible. Early reports, compiled in the 1941 Butt report, showed only one in eight bombs fell within a 5-mile radius. Large city centres were the only thing Bomber Command had a chance of hitting at night.

    Wesel

    Technology came to the rescue by the introduction of GEE and Oboe radio waves and H2S radar navigation. The first to be equipped with such devices were the so-called ‘pathfinders’, selected from the best crews. Their job was to find and mark the targets with colourful flares before the arrival of the main bomber force. This combination greatly improved the accuracy and proved decisive in the bombing campaign against the German chemical industry, which destroyed most of the synthetic oil facilities, depriving Nazi Germany of fuel, explosives, and other chemicals.

    Of all the armed services, Bomber Command suffered the highest number of casualties. More than 55,500 perished which statistically meant that these young men had a higher chance of dying than finishing their tour of 25 (later 30) sorties.

    Lanc

    Then, on 6 August 1945 a single bomb changed everything. The Americans dropped the first atomic bomb on Hiroshima in Japan, instantly wiping out 90 percent of the city. The ensuing Cold War was dominated by nuclear weapons and mutual assured destruction. Both the West and the Soviet Union had hundreds of large bombers ready to drop enough nuclear weapons to annihilate each other. The RAF deployed its famous V bombers: the Valiant, Vulcan and Victor. A number of these would be on Quick Reaction Alert, ready to take off within minutes.

    V

    Grapple

    The current RAF is playing a different game. It now fields stealth jet aircraft packed with laser- and GPS-guided missiles, capable of hitting targets with great precision. The latter is a result of military requirements, but maybe more importantly, the reduction of collateral damage is an important factor in the eyes of the public. On the other hand, the morality of autonomous attack drones, the future of military aviation, will soon be coming to the fore.

    Reaper

  • Citizen Airman: Ray Holmes – Part One: VE Day

    Citizen Airman: Ray Holmes – Part One: VE Day

    ‘After all, not a lot of chaps had started the war flying and were still alive and flying at the end.’ Raymond Towers Holmes, 1989

    Ray Holmes

    Ray Holmes was standing in a bookshop when he heard the war with Germany was over. The shop was in the market town of Wallingford, only a ten-minute drive from RAF Benson, in Oxfordshire, where the likeable Merseysider was stationed. Flight Lieutenant Holmes was a reconnaissance pilot on the strength of No. 541 Squadron; and for the last three months, he had been flying long, chancy, photographic missions, deep into enemy airspace, in a powerful blue-painted Spitfire.

    Holmes had had a long and active war and, at 31, he was that rarest of things: an “old bold” pilot with over 2,000 flying hours logged. He had flown throughout the war; and whether intercepting enemy bombers, teaching novices to fly, or taking aerial photographs, his professionalism and skill were apparent, to say nothing of his nerve. His natural kindness and warm humour were also usually in evidence and he was considered good company. Ray Holmes was an asset to the Service, and an outstanding example of what is sometimes called “the greatest generation.” He might have smiled at that, but he was unarguably a veteran of proven ability; a survivor with a knack for being in the right place at the right time.

    Born at Wallasey, Cheshire, on 20 August 1914, Raymond Towers Holmes grew up to love sport and fast cars, and he eventually became a crime reporter on the Birkenhead Advertiser. His connection with flying began in September 1936, when a friend suggested he apply to join the newly-formed Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve. This part-time ‘citizens air force’ attracted extraordinary young men from ordinary backgrounds, and it would provide roughly one third of Fighter Command’s pilots for the Battle of Britain.

    Having passed the medical, Holmes became the 55th volunteer to enlist; and in February 1937, he travelled to Prestwick, in Scotland, to begin his protracted flying instruction. He proved to be a good pilot, and on 18 June 1940, was posted to Wick, another Scottish station, to fly Hawker Hurricanes with No. 504 (County of Nottingham) Squadron. The German air offensive against Britain commenced the following month, and ‘504’ flew south to RAF Hendon, in north-west London, and the front line.

    On 15 September 1940, the Luftwaffe attempted to force a decision in the air by launching a massive assault on London. By the end of that unforgettable Sunday, the course of the battle had changed, and with it the course of history. Henceforth, Britain and the Commonwealth would celebrate ‘Battle of Britain Day.’ Furthermore, Sergeant Ray Holmes’ very public brush with a Dornier bomber over Hyde Park Corner would become, for many, the defining moment of the 16-week campaign.

    5

    Dornoer

    Exactly one year later, Ray Holmes, now a Pilot Officer, was in Murmansk in north-west Russia. He was serving with No.151 Wing, the RAF formation tasked with delivering Hurricanes to the Soviet Union, and teaching Russian pilots to fly them. Despite the grim reality of Stalinism, and the biting cold, Holmes got on well with his Soviet counterparts and they appreciated his talent as an instructor. He also managed to shoot down a Messerschmitt 109F while he was there.

    Russia

    Holmes returned to the UK in December 1941 and qualified as a flying instructor. Over the next two years, he taught scores of pupils to fly, and later trained pilots to become instructors themselves. In February 1945, he returned to operational flying with No. 541 Squadron; and for the rest of the war, he flew a sleek, sky-blue Supermarine Spitfire Mk. XIX, taking photographs of vital importance 30,000 feet above the Reich.

    Spit XIX

    On the afternoon of 8 May 1945, the news that Germany had surrendered came over the radio in the bookshop in which Holmes was browsing. For weeks he had imagined a huge victory bash at the station, but now, instead of rushing back, he found himself lingering in the shop, scanning the shelves in search of the first book he would read in peacetime. A feeling of anti-climax was a common reaction that day.

    Holmes described the VE Day celebration at RAF Benson in his memoirs:

    ‘One by one they turned up. There was a forced cheerfulness everywhere. The truth of the matter was that we had all been at full stretch for so long we could not relax when the tension suddenly went. Reaction. We talked about when we were likely to be demobbed, what we would do in civvy street, whether to apply for long service commissions in the RAF and, inevitably, of the fellows who had not lived to see victory.”

    The ice was well and truly broken, however, when the Mess secretary announced that the Mess was opening its cellars and the cost would be shared equally. Ray wasn’t a drinker, but he drank that night, and his inexperience showed when he toasted the Allied victory with glasses of champagne, sherry, port, gin, whisky, vodka and beer. He had to be put to bed.

    Ray was dismayed to be woken the next morning with the appalling news that ‘541’ had been ordered to photograph the French coastline; a task no doubt devised to keep the pilots on their toes. Although he was severely hung over, he knew the unwritten law of the wartime Air Force ‘that no matter how drunk you get the night before, you fly next morning.’ Shortly afterwards he found himself climbing unsteadily into the cockpit of his Spitfire and setting off for France. Switching on the aircraft’s oxygen supply was the pilot’s time-honoured way of dealing with a hangover and Ray breathed deeply.

    The oxygen helped a lot and Ray Holmes took photographs of the coastline around Cherbourg competently enough using new infra-red film. He then flew the 150 miles back home to Benson with a heavy head, a dry throat and his whole life ahead of him.

    Recommended Reading:

    ‘Sky Spy: From Six Miles High to Hitler’s Bunker’, Ray Homes (Airlife Publishing, 1989)

    ‘The Most Dangerous Enemy: A History of the Battle of Britain’, Stephen Bungay (Aurum Press, 2000)

  • VE Day 75

    VE Day 75

    On VE day, more than a million men and women of many nationalities and ethnicities were wearing the RAF blue. And the final victory on 8 May 1945 was very much theirs.

    Although the Battle of Britain is well known, it was not a decisive victory. The German Luftwaffe quickly replaced its losses and remained a powerful opponent. After the Battle, Fighter Command was tasked with going from the defensive to the offensive but struggled with this change. The first raids on occupied Europe proved to be both ineffective and costly, while Bomber Command, forced to fly over Germany under cover of night, was unable to find its targets, let alone bomb them accurately.

    With a bomber force unable to destroy German armaments factories, the decision was taken to defeat Germany by attacking its civilian work force through an area bombing strategy. City after city was bombed and reduced to rubble with half a million German civilians, including women, children, and elderly perishing. Beside questionable from a modern-day moral perspective, the terror attacks totally failed in their objective as they did not lead to a collapse in morale and did not bring Germany to its knees. Conversely, the brave crews of Bomber Command suffered heavy losses. Of the 120,000 who served with Bomber Command during the war, 55,573 paid the ultimate price.

    Cologne

    Although the bombing offensive inflicted enormous damage and forced the Germans to divert huge resources from the Soviet Union to the home front, Nazi war production continued to rise. It was only in the spring of 1944 that the war strategy shifted to attacks on the Nazi’s chemical industry, which produced most of Germany’s oil and explosives.

    Such specific targets had become achievable as navigation technology had taken great strides forward. The best bomber crews were selected to serve in ‘pathfinder’ units, which would find and mark the target with coloured flares, prior to the arrival of the main bomber force. The Pathfinder Force’s most important aircraft was the fantastic de Havilland Mosquito, equipped with the ‘Oboe’ blind-bombing system and the ‘H2S’ navigation and bombing radar.

    synthetic 

    Huels

    Aiding the bombers was an elaborate system of deception. Bombers of No. 100 Group carried various jamming equipment, capable of disrupting German radar and radio communications. The best-known device was called Window, which was nothing more than thousands of thin aluminium strips. When dropped, they would overload the German radar readings. A less-know tactic was Operation Corona. This has nothing with the virus but involved German-speaking RAF personnel impersonating German ground control officers. They would tune to the German radio frequency and countermand Luftwaffe instructions, confusing the German night fighter crews. It even happened that German and RAF operators would argue on air who were the real Luftwaffe operators.

    The attacks on the German chemical industry were, unlike the area bombing, tremendously successful. German production of fuel and explosives plummeted and never recovered. German tanks were abandoned with empty fuel tanks, and artillery batteries fired shells filled with inert rock salt. The Luftwaffe, starved of aviation fuel, could neither train new pilots, nor conduct large-scale operations.

    The fuel paralysis prevented the Luftwaffe’s new wonder weapon reaching its lethal potential. The Messerschmitt Me 262 jet fighter was faster than any Allied aircraft. It instantly showed to all sides the jet was the future of aviation. But without fuel to fly them, most Me 262s never took to the skies. Those that did were swamped by superior numbers of Allied fighter aircraft such as the venerable Supermarine Spitfire, which was still the main British fighter at the end of the war. The RAF also had its own jet fighter, the Gloster Meteor. Compared to the Me 262, it was a more conventional design, but as a result, also more reliable. Improved versions of the Meteor served worldwide until the late 1950s.

    Me 262 

    Meteor

    The Meteor was used to counter another German threat, the V1 ‘doodlebug’ flying bomb. These were the first examples of cruise missiles, albeit unguided. Powered by a simple pulsejet engine, they were launched from ramps in France pointed in the direction of their target, usually London. Only the Meteor jets and the fastest propeller fighter aircraft, such as the North American Mustang or Hawker Tempest, could intercept this unmanned robot. Shooting at a bomb posed obvious dangers to the RAF pilots until it was discovered that flying close to the wing of the V1 disrupted its airflow, thereby overpowering the gyroscopic autopilot, and bringing the V1 crashing down.

    Spitfire chases

    As the Luftwaffe had by then become a shadow of its former self, such unmanned missiles were all Nazi Germany had to attack Britain. The RAF and other Allied air forces had conquered complete air superiority. Short Sunderland flying boats and Consolidated Liberator long-range bombers had driven the German submarines out of the seas. Without fear of interception, Douglas Dakotas dropped thousands of paratroopers behind enemy lines. Tactical bombers like the Hawker Typhoon patrolled the battlefields waiting to unleash their weaponry on anything daring to move. North American Mitchells played havoc on German infrastructure by bombing railway yards, bridges, and other tactical targets. German Messerschmitt Bf 110 and Junkers Ju 88 night fighters, built to shoot down RAF bombers at night, had become the prey to the versatile Mosquito night fighters.

    B-25

    Increasingly unopposed, Bomber Command had grown to an impressive and unprecedented force of 1,600 operational Avro Lancaster, Handley Page Halifax and other strategic bombers. Although the attacks on German industry and infrastructure had proven to be very effective, the British government and Arthur ‘Butcher’ Harris, head of Bomber Command, continued to push for terror attacks with Dresden in February 1945 as an eternally controversial coda. It is for this reason that Bomber Command crews had been tragically overlooked for far too long in post-war celebrations.

    These young men did, as did every other man or woman in the RAF, their duty to the best of their abilities. Above all, VE Day should commemorate the almost 80,000 RAF casualties who gave their lives for their comrades, their family, their country, and our freedom.

    Lancaster crew
  • A life in Flying

    A life in Flying

    I was born in North West London near Hendon shortly after the end of the Second World War. I grew up in Herga Court, Harrow-on-the Hill, a secluded estate of flats set in gardens and woods off Sudbury Hill, which leads up to Harrow Village. Many of the owners were young families, with babies in prams and children all growing up together. It was an idyllic place where mums would park the kids in their prams and children could play outside in the gardens without fear of danger.

    Our neighbours were of mixed backgrounds and professions, and many were employed in military or civil aviation, including RAF, USAF, Polish aircrew, and new airlines. On the third floor above our flat lived Air Vice Marshal Sir Maurice Heath, who was Commanding Officer of British Forces Arabian Peninsular and later Chief of Staff Allied Air Forces Europe. In the next building were, among others, a Jordanian family relative of King Hussein who was at Harrow School, the actor Edward Fox, and Captain Willie (Rooftop) Johnson.

    Captain Johnson became famous for landing a DC-3 immediately after take-off on the roof of a family house at the end of Northolt’s Runway 07 with no injuries to passengers, crew or the people in the house who were eating dinner. It was later established that snow was responsible.

    Dakota rest

    St Mary’s Church is at the top of Harrow on the Hill and is the highest point in London, 440 feet above sea level. It is a landmark about 4 miles North East on the final approach to Runway 25 at Northolt Airfield, which was the busiest London Airport just after the War.

    church

    Hendon Aerodrome was located 5 miles North East of Harrow on the Hill, on the same runway axis as Northolt (And later, almost the same axis as Runway 23 at Heathrow – more later!)

    There was a continuous flow of piston-engine airplanes passing overhead our flat, from Avro Ansons, DC-3s, Vikings to Lockheed Constellations, Douglas DC-6s, all of which would have been about 1,000 feet above my pram in the garden. At some point, I suppose, I started speaking; my mother swears that my first words were ‘Mummy Plane!’

    Soon I started to recognise the different types both by their shapes and the sound of the engines – I was hooked! As I grew up, I found two perfect places to watch the aircraft passing by. The flats had 4 floors and a flat terraced roof which gave me a view from East to Southwest; perfect to watch Northolt and Heathrow arrivals when the wind was from the Southwest. The other place was at the top of a 60ft Beech tree, which was perfect to watch Hendon activity, although there was a lot less traffic there in 1955. It was a bit precarious in a stiff breeze, but that was more of a challenge.

    They were there until 1957 and the last large aircraft to land in 1968 was a Blackburn Beverley Transport, intended as an exhibit at the new RAF Museum. No. 617 Volunteer Gliding School of the RAF Air Training Corps was established at Hendon and continued to fly there until the airfield was sold for housing.

    squadron

    My connection with Hendon now moves forward to age 16 when I was at Merchant Taylors School and was a RAF Cadet in the school CCF. The RAF allocated a few Gliding Courses to the school every year, and in 1963 I was fortunate to be chosen to attend weekend training to get my A and B Certificate, which entailed completing three solo take-offs and landings in a Kirby Cadet Mk 3 glider at RAF Halton in Buckinghamshire.

    Kirby

    We had training in the T21 Sedbergh and Kirby Cadet Mk3 aircraft until we were ready to go solo. On the day of our first solo flight there was a stiff breeze blowing. I was No.2, strapped in ready to take off and watching as No.1 launched, turned downwind and then disappeared behind the hangars. There was a general panic as the too low glider tried to get over the hangar, and then stalled onto the apron behind me. Fortunately, the poor guy was only shocked, shaken and stirred. Now it was my turn and realising that the wind had carried him too far away from the airfield, I turned in early and made a reasonable landing.

    In 1961 we had moved to a new house in Hampstead, London NW3. I used to see gliders flying at Hendon Aerodrome, and as soon as I had my A and B Certificate I borrowed my Mother’s car and drove to the Aerodrome where I had to pass through the security sentry to get to the launch point.

    The Commanding Officer of 617 Gliding School, Flt Lt Adams did not appear too welcoming since I was on Government Property without permission.

    However, when I introduced myself as ‘Flight Sergeant Bruh, Merchant Taylors CCF ‘ and asked him if I could do the next Qualification, Soaring and Silver C Certificates, he was dumbfounded. ‘You can’t just drive into an RAF Airfield and ask to do a flying course!’ I could only answer the obvious – ‘But I just did, Sir’. At this point he must have seen a way to get some free labour, so he relented and agreed on the basis that I had to work as a Staff Cadet, moving the gliders, helping the students into the aircraft, helping the launches, signalling the winch drivers etc.

    Anyway, I worked hard, enjoying every minute, was able to fly aerobatics over the A41 at Hendon and got my Soaring C Certificate. One Saturday afternoon I was in the orange and white Signalling caravan, looking down the runway to the winch driver ready to launch a glider. Behind me I heard a deep aircraft noise and turned around in time to see a huge 4-engine Douglas DC-4 just over the railway line about 100 yards from the caravan, and about to land on top of me and the gliders on the runway in front of me.

    DC-4

    Fortunately, Flt Lt Adams saw it and ran to the caravan, grabbed a red flare pistol which he fired just in time. The aircraft belonged to the Spanish Air Force and, apart from ending my flying career, it would have ended up in Colindale Hospital at the end of the runway. At the last moment, the pilot realised the mistake and climbed away, leaving a trail of shaken cadets and instructors.

    He had mistaken Hendon for Northolt, and it was not the first time that this had happened. Incidentally, because Hendon, Northolt and Heathrow are more or less in a straight line, there were several mistaken landings at Northolt when they meant to land at Heathrow. This included a PanAm Boeing 707 in 1960.

    As a result, the Gasometer in Harrow was painted with a large ‘NO’ to identify Northolt, and the Gasometer at Southall was painted with ‘LH’ for Heathrow. The Southwest runway at Heathrow no longer exists, and nor do the Gasometers.

     

    gasometer

     

    On my last day at Hendon, my mother came to collect me with the car. I introduced her to ‘The Boss’, Flight Lieutenant Adams, who, to my astonishment, invited her for a flight in the Sedbergh T21 glider. And to my even greater surprise, she agreed, and they flew for 20 minutes. I asked her recently if she remembers the flight; at 97, she just smiles!

    I started a Motor Rally Club at School, and used to practise skidding, handbrake turns etc on the runway once flying had stopped and the gliders were in the hangar. My brother and several friends who I grew up with were all just 17, and I offered to teach them to drive since I had access to the Airfield. We could go through the gears up to 60mph, emergency stop, skid, reverse, park, and everything before they went onto the roads. Once they had confidence, it was a doddle to have them drive up to London and back, negotiating Marble Arch and Hyde Park Corner.

    In 1967, I was at the entry gatehouse and was puzzled to see several DC-3s parked on the grass airfield and several US soldiers on parade and a film crew with lighting etc. I realised the planes were cleverly painted screens and the ‘Soldiers’ were filming the Dirty Dozen. Watch the parade scene and you will see a glider apparently flying backwards – something to do with the editing I suppose.

     the Dirty Dozen

    One fine evening we were practising high speed cornering when six motorbike policemen came the opposite way up the runway. I gave them a wave, and they gave me a wave, but it was not very friendly, and we had to abandon training there.

    I married Karin, a lovely Austrian girl in 1975 and we moved to Mill Hill, ever closer to Hendon. She did not seem to mind being taken to the RAF Museum with the kids every wet weekend once they were old enough.

    In 1996 I had a big birthday, which began as a small group of friends going out for dinner. Unfortunately, people in our Company heard that it was a ‘Big One’ and wanted to join, as did all our customers – we were a well-known ladies fashion brand. Suddenly we were looking at around 200 people. Karin and I asked the Museum for the use of the Battle of Britain building to put on a period costume party, together with Jazz and Charleston bands, as well as a Disco. We asked guests to make a gift contribution to Macmillan Cancer Support.

    The party was around the Sunderland flying boat, swathed in purple light, the tables were long trestle tables with green camouflage tablecloths. The plates and drinks were served on tin NAAFI –style tin plates and mugs. The food was served at stalls, fish and chips, bangers and mash, and chicken pot pie.

    We created ‘Ration Books’ which guests had to buy for one guinea (£1.10) These were numbered and were the entry for a Draw for which friends and colleagues had offered generous prizes. The uniforms and costumes were fantastic; I was hard to spot, even though I stood at the door as guests entered – I was wearing a 40s policeman uniform! The result was a marvellous party and £8000 gift to Macmillans.

    My career changed in 2001, when I moved into full time aviation, flying business jet aircraft. This was a new life for me, being ‘On call’ most of the time. As a result, I found that there were periods when I wasn’t flying or being away, and I felt that I had plenty of enthusiasm and ability to talk to people about aviation, so I went to the RAF Museum with the intention to volunteer.

    As a result, I was inducted into the Vulcan and Cold War Team, where I met the very knowledgeable members and had my first encounter with the Phantom, ably supported by Dave Parkins. In order to talk meaningfully about the various aircraft in the ‘Tour’ we need to have a reasonable basic history and purpose of each. Then, to make it interesting we need ‘Insider’ information about what they could or could not do, how well they performed, what their competition was etc. In addition to volunteer Roger Wilkins, who only recently passed away and was the ‘Master’ of the Hawker Hunter, I am fortunate in having a number of colleague friends who flew these aircraft in their careers in the RAF who are very willing to tell us about the aircraft and their experiences.

    An interesting occasion was the RAF Open Day; I had a guest in the Phantom cockpit; he asked how to raise and lower the seat, and I had not come across that one before. A voice from one of the people waiting said ‘I can show you’. It was Flt Lt Edward Smith, ex-RAF and now Airbus Captain. Edward was a Phantom pilot and happens to be the pilot photographed on the image standing in front of the aircraft. The RAF Museum has invited him to be interviewed and the result can be seen in this lovely video.

    Edward

     

    I am also fortunate to have flown some of the aircraft in the Museum, including the Grasshopper at the entrance of Hangar 4, the Kirby Cadet Mk3 Glider and the Chipmunk.

    It is particularly important to get to know the guest you are talking to before launching into the ‘Patter’. Many of these people may have much more knowledge, so I usually ask them about their interest etc. One guest I asked – ‘What is your interest in Aviation? ’His answer – ‘None! My wife bought me the ticket for my Birthday!’

    Although my wife would like to move nearer to London, I think we will be tied to Hendon for a lot longer.

  • Louis Blériot and the first Channel crossing

    Louis Blériot and the first Channel crossing

    On 25 July 1909, it was inventor, industrialist and pioneer Louis Blériot who demonstrated what the future of the aeroplane would be. Blériot was already remarkable in that at the turn of the century he had invented the world’s first practical car headlamp which he now sold to the major French car manufacturers. He then turned his attention to aviation and over the course of the intervening years, designed and tested a series of aeroplanes, the first unsuccessful but ultimately resulting in the world’s first successful monoplane design, the Blériot VI, in 1907. His Blériot VIII of the following year was the first design to complement a hand-held control column with foot operated rudder bar: flying control elements that are standard in present-day aeroplanes. Ultimately, he decided to concentrate on his most successful: the Blériot XI.

    The construction of the Blériot XI is a lesson in 1909 simplicity and efficiency. Fuselage frames were constructed from hardwoods such as ash and poplar that could bear the weight of components like the engine, propeller and pilot! Interestingly, this same wood was used in the framework of the wings. The fuselage was a simple steel wire-braced wooden box girder. Only the forward half was enclosed by rubberized waterproof fabric to provide protection against wind and weather.

    Bleriot XI

    To provide power Blériot had teamed up with motorbike manufacturer Alessandro Anzani who had supplied the three-cylinder partial radial engine that provided enough power for minimal weight. He had in turn partnered with Lucien Chauvière who provided finely tuned laminated walnut propellers for this engine, which were attached directly to the crankshaft.

     

    Bleriot

    The engine and propeller were positioned at the front of the design: the ideal position for optimum traction through the air. Wings were thin for speed, deeply arched and broad from front to back to maximise on the Bernoulli characteristic to provide lift. They were set at a dihedral (curved upwards) to enable stability and easy recovery if buffeted by side-wind. They had no aileron flaps, but in common with other designs of the time had warping wing tips pulled by steel control wires that were given leverage by a tubular pylon under the fuselage. The ingenious main wheel suspension was mounted on a stocky wooden frame below the engine, the tubular steel axle bar attached to two sliding tubular sleeves that ‘telescoped’ into corresponding tubes, substantial rubber bungees stretched between them to take the impact. Strong spoked wheels freely swiveled (like supermarket trolleys) to cope with landings. The rudder and elevators were logically placed at the tail, which was found to produce much greater control than on other contemporary aircraft. This arrangement remains current today. Tail elevators were not flaps in the conventional style, but were at the tips, tilting around the tailplane spar. The pilot sat in a snug wooden bucket seat. The monoplane was about half the weight of most contemporary designs. In this machine, Blériot was about to make the world’s first sea crossing between countries by aeroplane, flying from a beach to the west of Calais, France, to the hilltop above Dover Castle, Kent, UK.

    Bleriot3

    Bleriot

    The great preoccupation of Lord Northcliffe, millionaire proprietor of the Daily Mail newspaper, was in advancing the progress of aviation and particularly the aeroplane. He had offered a series of cash prizes to any pioneer pilot who could achieve record ‘firsts’ one of which was the first non-stop Channel crossing by aeroplane. This attracted a cash prize of £1,000 (about £120,000 today) to anyone who dared. Rival aviator, Parisian Hubert Latham had first attempted the crossing on 19 July in his Antoinette, but engine failure forced him to land onto the sea – the first time a sea landing had been made by aeroplane. 25 July saw the two rivals camped out on the Northern French coastline bracing for further attempts – but it was Blériot who was to try at dawn, 4.41 am, on this day.

    Being waved off by a large French crowd (even at that early hour), he started his flight just after sunrise (a condition of the record attempt). He was self admittedly poor at navigation and therefore flew without a compass. Overtaking a ship he had initially been following and reaching a point between the two coastlines, the visibility deteriorated:

    ‘For about ten minutes I was on my own, isolated, lost in the middle of the foaming sea, seeing no point on the horizon, perceiving no boat…Also my eyes were fixed…on the level of fuel consumption. These ten minutes seemed long and, truly, I was happy to glimpse…the English coast…I headed for this white mountain, but was caught in the wind and the mist…I could no longer see Dover…I could see three boats…They seemed to be heading to a port…I followed them calmly…the wind…got even stronger. A break in the coast appeared to my right, just before Dover Castle. I was madly happy…I rushed for it. I was above ground.’

    He circled twice and when satisfied, dropped onto the downward slope of Northfall Meadow, breaking his undercarriage and coming to a rest in view of the castle at 5.12 am, propeller and wheels snapped. It was not long before a crowd of local people were to join him at the landing site, close-marshalled by police. The epic had been achieved. He had taken just over 30 minutes to cover the 24-mile distance.

    Hours after his flight, he travelled to London and leaving Victoria Station with Lord Northcliffe beside him, he was cheered by thousands of enthusiastic Londoners. On his return to Paris, Blériot was greeted by an excitable crowd of 100,000 of his countrymen. The Daily Mail said of the event, “Great Britain is no longer an island”, a fact that was celebrated and by some regarded with trepidation, as the air attacks of the future First World War would bear out. At the time pioneer Alan Cobham said of the historic flight that “Britain must seek another form of defence besides ships”. The achievement rescued Blériot’s fortunes: over the coming weeks he received orders for more than 100 Blériot XIs, the design ultimately being mass-produced.


    CGW

    Blériot has a direct connection to the RAF Museum’s site. It was the channel crossing that inspired the founder of the London Aerodrome, later RAF Hendon, Claude Grahame-White to get into powered flight. Grahame-White befriended Blériot to gain admittance to the Rheims Aviation Meet a month later and learned to fly with the man himself in a two-seat Blériot design. Louis Blériot would take part in flying displays as a celebrity appearance in the years preceding the First World War.

    You can explore the site where Blériot took off, now named Blériot Plage at Les Baraques, Calais. A water tower decorated with murals depicting the event, now stands close to the location of the starting point. Meanwhile, above the cliffs of Dover, in view of Dover Castle, a granite pad, unveiled in 1910, has the same dimensions and shape of the monoplane and marks the exact spot where Blériot’s plane came to rest down the slope on the chalk down. Certainly, worthy of a visit.

    So as you head out, seat-belted into your passenger airliner, to make your oversea crossing to another continent, think again about the first time this was done by the remarkable Louis Blériot and his clever ‘modern’ design.

    memorial1

    Memorial in France2

    meorial2

    Blerior

  • The fall of the Red Baron

    The fall of the Red Baron

    ‘Thus, I joined the Flying Service at the end of May 1915. My greatest wish was fulfilled.’
    In Hangar Two of the Royal Air Force Museum London, in the First World War in the Air exhibition is a Fokker D.VII. This is one of the most colourful aircraft in the collection, it catches the eye due to its abstract paintwork. It has a stark reminder that the First World War was not fought in black and white but pure, raw colour. On a different scale nearby is displayed a small delicate blue dog made of glass.

    Fokker DVII.

    Barons Blue Dog

    This was a mascot owned by Manfred von Richthofen, known to the Allies as the Red Baron, and was carried with him when he flew. On 21 April 1918, some 102 years ago, the Red Baron would meet his fate. The Times of 24 April 1918 paints a rather beautiful and moving picture of the funeral:

    ‘Captain Baron von Richthofen’s funeral yesterday afternoon was a simple but impressive ceremony. The coffin, which was borne by six officers of the Royal Air Force, was deposited in ground in the corner of the French cemetery in a little village from ground near which, before the ceremony, one could look at Amiens Cathedral, standing very clear and beautiful in the afternoon sun. The English Service was read, and the last salute fired over the grave.’

    Footage of this service can still be viewed online today.

    The Barons Grave

    A note explaining that the Baron had passed

    Respect was certainly evident between the aviators. Wreaths and notes would often be dropped over lines and military services given to the fallen enemy. This is evident in an entry in The Aberdeen Daily Journal of 23 April 1918:

    ‘The funeral was a very impressive spectacle. The fallen airman was buried in a pretty little cemetery not far from the spot where he was brought down. A contingent of the Royal Air Force attended. We may not feel that it is our national role to try and impose Kultur [sic] upon the rest of the world, but we certainly do continue to practise chivalry towards our enemies.’

    The term chivalry leads us to the concept of the First World War in the air being fought by Knights of the Air. The Knights of the Air approach has fallen out of favour in historiographical terms, due to the push from the 1960s onwards of the ‘Lion led by Donkeys’ approach to First World War history. However, there is some truth in this concept, the men who flew on all sides came from similar backgrounds, had a shared way of life and in the majority of cases mutual respect for each other. However, this approach should not hide the fact that these men were engaged in violence in a new area of combat, using new technology. As stated by Peter Hart ‘pistols, rifles, bombs, grenades, were all tried’ in the pursuit of killing their fellow aviators before the machine gun. The Red Baron’s ‘remarkable record’ is witness to this also.

    The Baron

    The Yorkshire Evening Post of 22 April 1918 comments that the Red Baron’s funeral is anticipated to be ‘very impressive, and worthy of the fallen airman’s remarkable record.’ This ‘remarkable’ record was the 80 victories claimed by the Red Baron. Many of these shot down aircraft would have been crewed by freshly trained pilots and many would not have known, quite literally, what had hit them.

    When investigating someone as iconic as the Red Baron a major obstacle encountered is how do you get past the hype and myths. In this instance we have the tool of his own memoir, Der Rote Kampfflieger.

    Der Rote Kampfflieger was published in 1917, translated by J. Ellis Barker and republished in English in 1918 under the name The Red Flier. The object of the translation being as stated in the foreword by CG Grey, editor of The Aeroplane, ‘It gives our flying people an opportunity of comparing notes with one of Germany’s star-turn fighter pilots.’

    Red Flier

    Before his death Richthofen thought that this book showed him as more of an insolent character then he now was, however it does capture his thoughts and views at the time and offers us an insight into the mindset of a fighter pilot in this period.

    Manfred, baron von Richthofen was born on 2 May 1892 in Breslau, Germany (now Wroclaw, Poland). His was a prosperous family and one of his great joys was hunting in and around the family estate. Hunting is a theme that we will come back to.

    Richthofen first saw action in the First World War with a cavalry regiment of the Prussian army and fought in Russia at the start of the war and in the invasion of Belgium and France. In the cavalry he won the Iron Cross for courage under fire. His role in the cavalry soon become one of transporting supplies rather than action due to the new trench warfare. He recalls in The Red Fighter Pilot when at Verdun:

    ‘At the beginning I was in the trenches at a spot where nothing happened. Then I became a dispatch bearer and hoped to have some adventures. But there I was mistaken…. After having paid a short visit to the fighting men, my position seemed to me a very stupid one… I had enough of it. I sent a letter to my Commanding General and evil tongues report that I told him: “My dear Excellency! I have not gone to war in order to collect cheese and eggs, but for another purpose.” At first, the people above wanted to snarl at me. But then they fulfilled my wish. Thus, I joined the Flying Service at the end of May, 1915. My greatest wish was fulfilled.’

    His first flight as an observer did not go smoothly,

    ‘The next morning at seven o’ clock I was to fly for the first time as an observer! I was naturally very excited, for I had no idea what it would be like. Everyone whom I had asked about his feelings told me a different tale. The night before, I went to bed earlier than usual in order to be thoroughly refreshed the next morning. We drove over to the flying ground, and I got into a flying machine for the first time. The draught from the propeller was a beastly nuisance. I found it quite impossible to make myself understood by the pilot. Everything was carried away by the wind. If I took up a piece of paper it disappeared. My safety helmet slid off. My muffler dropped off. My jacket was not sufficiently buttoned. In short, I felt very uncomfortable. Before I knew what was happening, the pilot went ahead at full speed and the machine started rolling. We went faster and faster. I clutched the sides of the car. Suddenly, the shaking was over, the machine was in the air and the earth dropped away from under me.’

    On 10 October 1915, after experiencing combat in a two-seater, Richthofen would undertake his first solo flight. He would not pass his final examinations until Christmas Day 1915 and Manfred von Richthofen would then be a fighter pilot and reap devastation on all who opposed him. He was known as being a deadly shot. By early 1917 he had become Germany’s highest living scoring pilot. This was with 16 confirmed victories and he was subsequently awarded the Pour le Mérite, more commonly known as the Blue Max, after the great German fighter pilot Max Immelmann.

    In January 1917 Richthofen was given command of his own fighter squadron, Jagdstaffel 11 (No. 11 Fighter Squadron). The pilots were handpicked and included many of the leading fighter pilots of their day including his younger brother Lothar, who would shoot down the great British ace Captain Albert Ball, VC, who trained at Hendon where the RAF Museum is now located. Of the 26 pilots who were attached to this Jasta, 20 achieved five or more victories. The squadron were known for their colourfully painted aircraft and as they travelled to where the fighting was the thickest by train. They soon gained the nickname ‘The Flying Circus’.

    Ball

    ‘The Flying Circus’ was so successful in April 1917 that the month was dubbed ‘Bloody April’ by the Allies. It is estimated in Peter Hart’s book of that name that between January and the end of May the RFC lost 708 aircraft of which 275 fell in April, they suffered 1014 casualties of which 473 dead, 317 wounded and 224 PoWs.

    One of the barons opponents

    Amongst all this death there was mutual respect between the pilots as evident in the description of the Red Baron’s funeral. There is another aspect of his death, the fascination that was evident in the allies for this man whose aircraft could evoke fear when spotted. This comes across in a fascinating article in Cross and Cockade, Vol, 20, no.3 regarding an interview with Vince Emery of the Australian Imperial Force by Geoffrey Hine. Vince was one of the first on the scene when the red Fokker of Richthofen crashed.

    ‘On reaching it he walked around it, passing between the nose and the beet heap, to the low side and stood on the twisted back lowest wing. The pilot was bareheaded, the head lying back. Vince, no doubt at this moment, souvenired the small binoculars which were slung around the airman’s neck on a very short dark silken cord, the glasses being tucked down into the front of the pilot’s coveralls. These glasses Vince slipped into his tunic side pocket. Jeffrey took a pistol… Vince remembered that the pilot had the clearest blue eyes that he ever saw. He was not wearing a helmet, though the coveralls may have had a hood attached; he had close- cropped hair and was wearing gloves. After about three minutes there were some one-hundred men about the plane.’

    Of course, soon a lot of souveniring begun, pieces taken off the plane and pilot and as Vince memorably described the men were ‘just like kangaroo dogs around a roo.’ One wonders if any of these souvenirs still exist, perhaps not recognised for what they are.

    The concept of souvenirs was something that Richthofen was familiar with. One of his most famous victories was that over Major Lanoe Hawker DSO, VC of the Royal Flying Corps. In a beautiful passage in his memoir he describes the combat between them, almost like a ballet, with an opponent he respected, although with a brutal ending.

    ‘First, we circled twenty times to the left, and then thirty times to the right. Each tried to get behind and above the other. Soon I discovered that I was not meeting a beginner. He had not the slightest intention of breaking off the fight. He was travelling in a machine which turned beautifully. However, my own was better at rising than his, and I succeeded at last in getting above and beyond my English waltzing partner. . . My opponent fell, shot through the head, one hundred and fifty feet behind our line. His machine gun was dug out of the ground and it ornaments the entrance of my dwelling.’

    A reissue of the Victoria Cross owned by Major Hawker, after the original was stolen in France in 1940 is owned by the RAF Museum, Hendon.

    Hawker

    To Richthofen the conflict was an extended hunt and the skills of the hunter were needed. He often kept trophies of his victories, including the registration numbers cut from downed aircraft and propellers.

    ‘During my whole life I have not found a happier hunting ground than in the course of the Somme Battle. In the morning, as soon as I got up, the first Englishman arrived, and the last did not disappear until long after sunset. Boelcke once said that this was the El Dorado of the flying men.’

    It was calmness in combat that marked out Richthofen from other fighter pilots;

    ‘My former excitement was gone. In such a position one thinks quite calmly and collectively and weighs the probabilities of hitting and of being hit. Altogether the fight itself is the least exciting part of the business as a rule. He who gets excited in fighting is sure to make mistakes. He will never get his enemy down.’

    ‘It followed that the victory would accrue to him who was calmest, and who had the clearest brain in a moment of danger.’

    Richthofen was a brave, fearless fighter, experience learnt through the great German aces of their day influenced Richthofen and his approach of being calm and working as a squadron were learnt from the men that he had worked with including the aforementioned Oswald Boelcke. Known as the father of the German fighter air force and a great tactician, Boelcke was killed in a mid-air collision. A wreath dropped by the Royal Flying Corps simply read; ‘To the memory of Captain Boelcke, our brave and chivalrous opponent.’

    Boelcke

    Perhaps one of the luckiest pilots of the First World War was Wilfried Reid May. It was May that the Red Baron was attacking when he was himself shot down. May, in an example of the lives those killed in combat on both sides could have had, went on to become an Ace himself with 13 confirmed victories, winning a DFC (citation) but after the war undertook a mercy flight in Canada, in atrocious winter conditions, delivering serum saving men, women and children from an outbreak of Diphtheria. May was a pioneer in the field of bush pilots and set up the first air service out of Edmonton in Canada. During the Second World War he worked with the Royal Canadian Air Force training pilots. In 1973 he was submitted into the Canadian Aviation Hall of Fame. By this time, he had also been awarded an OBE. None of this would have happened of course if he had not weaved his aircraft the correct way at the exact time required to avoid becoming the 81st victory.

    The colourful Fokker is a reminder that this was a conflict that was not fought in black and white in bygone days but fought in the air by your men from all backgrounds. Richthofen starkly states in The Red Battle Flyer that ‘the blood of English pilots will have to flow in streams.’ The war above the trenches was just as vicious as the war in them and the men who flew these aircraft, on all sides, were just as brave and young. At his death Richthofen was 25, Hawker when shot down was 25 and Ball 20.

    I will leave the last word to Captain Roy Brown, the Canadian RAF pilot who was given the credit for the shooting down of the Red Baron, although to this day debate continues as to whether it was Brown or ground fire that downed the infamous Fokker tri-plane. It is also known that Richthofen had suffered a head wound in July 1917 which never properly healed, and this is thought to have had serious long-term effects.

    X003-2602/15040: Capt Roy Brown, 1918

    Brown viewed Richthofen, laying in a tent soon after his death and wrote this in a letter to his mother:

    ‘The sight of Richthofen as I walked closer gave me a start. He appeared so small to me, so delicate He looked so friendly. Blond, silk-soft hair, like that of a child, fell from the broad, high forehead. His face, particularly peaceful, had an expression of gentleness and goodness, of refinement. Suddenly I felt miserable, desperately unhappy, as if I had committee an injustice. With a feeling of shame, a kind of anger against myself moved in my thoughts, that I had forced him to lay there. And in my heart, I cursed the force that is devoted to death. I gnashed my teeth; I cursed the war. If I could I would gladly have brought him back to life, but that is somewhat different than shooting a gun. I could no longer look him in the face. I went away. I did not feel like a victor. There was a lump in my throat. If it had been my dearest friend, I could not have felt greater sorrow.’

    [Quoted in Mark C. Wilkins, Aero-Neurosis: Pilots of the First World War and the Psychological Legacies of Combat, Pen & Sword, 2019]

    My thanks once again to Peter Devitt, Curator, RAF Museum for his comments and observations.

    RAF Join us poster

  • The Aerolites Programme of No. 80 Squadron

    The Aerolites Programme of No. 80 Squadron

    As an Aircraft Access & Large Object Volunteer at the RAF Museum London, I am privileged to be able to work with many of the museums historic aircraft and to learn of the people and stories behind these museum pieces.

    As the Museum is now closed until further notice, I decided to use my time at home to investigate an old piece of ephemera that I acquired a year ago. The somewhat dog-eared piece of paper dating from 1918 turns out to be a programme for a musical entertainment held by No. 80 Squadron RAF whilst serving in France during the last year of the First World War. As well as containing a list of the songs and sketches put on by members of the Squadron, the programme’s design and humorous spoof advertisements provide an interesting insight into the Squadron during that final year of hostilities.

    Founded in 1917 as No. 80 Squadron Royal Flying Corps, the Squadron was sent to serve in France in January 1918, becoming No. 80 Squadron RAF on 1 April 1918 when the Royal Air Force was formed.

    The cover design of the programme features a camel inside a bell and inside there is reference to ‘Bells Circus with their wonderful performing camels’. This refers to Major VD Bell, their commanding officer and to the Sopwith Camel aircraft which the Squadron flew. Within the programme, there are also humorous references made to camps being ‘built and forsaken the same day’; a reflection of the Squadron’s 16 different operational bases in France between January and October 1918. A reference to the ‘Belle View cookhouse ‘ possibly related to their base at La Bellevue in April 1918 where they were operational during their first month as an RAF squadron.

    detail of programme book

     

    detail of programme book

     

    detail of programme book

    The Sopwith Camel was a single-seater biplane built by the Sopwith Aviation Company and is considered by many to be one of the most famous aircraft of the First World War; the aircraft’s name coming from the hump on the engine cowling with contained the two Vickers machine guns that were synchronised to fire through the propeller. Powered by a single rotary engine, the aircraft was capable of climbing to around 10,000 feet (3000 m) and achieving speeds of up to 117 mph (188km/h) and could carry a small bomb load in addition to its other armament.

    For its time the Sopwith Camel was not an easy aircraft to fly as the controls of the aircraft were considered sensitive for its time, whilst providing manoeuvrability small errors could have disastrous consequences. The pilot, engine and armament are located towards the front of the aircraft making its centre of gravity towards the front of the plane. Whilst this made it easier to turn in flight, it was also prone to overturning. So whilst the aircraft’s manoeuvrability led to it being credited with destroying more enemy aircraft than any other plane during the War, it also was responsible for killing many pilots with nearly as many being killed due to accidents (over 380) as were killed in combat (around 410).

    One of only 8 original examples of a Sopwith Camel, as flown by No. 80 Squadron, can been see in Hanger 2 at the RAF Museum London. When the Museum reopens take time to come and see it and reflect on the bravery of the young pilots who flew these machines. Take time to imagine flying in the open cockpit, in freezing conditions, at several thousand feet looking for the enemy, when sighted diving to as close as you dared, then firing the machine gun whilst still retaining control of the aircraft. Should the enemies bullets hit the Camel’s single engine, it would mean a precarious landing at best. However, a hit to the fuel tank (situated just behind the pilot) meant possibly being burnt alive whilst still in the air.

    Camel and Fe2b

  • Reviving History Through Art

    Reviving History Through Art

    On 19 February 2020 I met three extraordinary people, whom without the RAF Museum I would never have had the opportunity to meet and hear some incredible stories.

    Photo of Aviation artist Tim O’Brien, former RAF pilot David Learmount, and David’s son Charles

    Aviation artist Tim O’Brien, former RAF pilot David Learmount, and David’s son Charles met at the RAF Museum London in February to celebrate the re-creation of a little bit of aviation history.

    David’s grandfather, Major LW Learmount DSO MC, was a pilot and squadron commander with the Royal Flying Corps (RFC, the predecessor of the RAF) during the First World War. He survived two years and ten months flying over the Western Front before being badly wounded in air combat and sent back to Blighty.

    But LWL, as we will call him here, had kept no diary, no records, and had no photographs of himself from his RFC service (unless someone reading this has one – in which case please get in touch with us!). David Learmount, an aviation journalist since leaving the RAF in 1979, found this void of information disturbing, and began researching the work of this unsung officer.

    Finally, David commissioned Tim O’Brien to turn history into a painting of a specific crew preparing a specific aircraft for a real photo-reconnaissance sortie over the Hindenburg Line.

    What David had discovered in researching his grandfather, was a man who represents the spirit of the RAF in a way that the exceptional heroes – the famed aces like Captain Albert Ball in the Great War and Group Captain Douglas Bader in the Second World War – somehow don’t, simply because most of
    us are not exceptional.

    Sopwith F1 Camel and Fe2b

    LWL wasn’t recorded as an ace, wasn’t a fighter pilot, he flew mostly on reconnaissance – particularly photo-reconnaissance. He was frequently involved in air combat, but didn’t end up dying for his country!

    And when the war was over, he went quietly back to being the businessman he had been before he volunteered for military service.

    FE2b Cockpit

    But in the RFC, he worked extremely hard, first flying for No. 7 Squadron, then No. 15 during the Somme campaign. In January 1917, he was promoted to Acting Major and given command of No. 22 Squadron, based then at Chipilly, north-east France, just a year and ten months after joining the RFC as a 2nd Lieutenant.

    Tim O’Brien’s oil painting brings all this to life, and it was so he could hand the artwork over to David that they agreed to meet at the RAF Museum.

    On the 10 May 1917 sortie for which the crew is shown preparing in the picture, LWL and his observer/gunner were to fly their FE2b aircraft at dangerously low-level over the Hindenburg Line, making themselves even more of a sitting duck by flying rock-steadily to get high-quality oblique photographs of the enemy positions.

    FE2b Observer

    They did just that. LWL was wounded by ground-fire but got his aircraft back to base with superbly exposed photographic plates to hand over to the photography unit for processing.

    In the citation for the Distinguished Service Order (DSO) that he was subsequently awarded, it says this: ‘On nearly all the other occasions on which this officer took oblique photographs his machine was literally shot to pieces and his escape from injury really miraculous.’

    He wasn’t an ace, but his risky, exacting work was vital. And now, at least, there is a picture to remind people of it.

  • The Few and the First Battle of Britain: Part 2

    The Few and the First Battle of Britain: Part 2

    In an earlier post I investigated the ‘Zepp’ attacks, the response of the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) and Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS) and the public fear that these attacks arose. It was widely believed by 1917 that the airship menace had been conquered. However, another monster was on the horizon. This was the ‘Gotha’, a purpose-built bomber with a wingspan of 77 feet (12 metres) and measuring some 40 feet (12 metres) long. They were to take part in Operation Türkenkreuz (Turk’s Cross). This was the operational name given for the planned bombing raids on London. The aim of the Operation was to force the British government to negotiate and pull out of the war, being forced to do so by public opinion. The idea being that the morale of the British people would be destroyed by the bombing raids.

    The man tasked with this was Hauptmann (Captain) Ernst Brandenburg, a veteran who had been wounded in the trenches in 1915 and subsequently took up a role in the army air service. In March 1917 he was appointed Commander of Kampfgeschwader 3 der Oberste Heeresleitung (Bomber Wing No. 3 of the Army High Command) or also known as the abbreviated Kagohl 3. Its three Staffeln (squadrons), each with 12 bombers, were based around Ghent in occupied Belgium. Unofficially, Kagohl 3 was known as the ‘Englandgeschwader’, the England Wing.

    Brandenburg embarked on a major training programme for his Geschwader in preparation for the raids. The bombers were part of the ‘G’ series of aircraft, the ‘Grosskampfflugzeugen’ (large bomber aircraft) and were produced by the Gotha company. The Geschwader flew the G.IV which had a speed of 80 mph (128 km/h) and could fly as high as 18,000 feet (5,500 metres). With a wingspan of almost 78 ft (24 m) it was a colossus of the skies. Its two 260 hp Mercedes engines gave a distinctive hum, recalled by many who saw them flying overhead.

    A Gotha G.IV Notice the big wingspan of this Gotha G.IV

    X003-2602-19786

    The Gotha G.IV had a crew of three, a commander, a pilot and a rear gunner. The aircraft was fitted with two machine guns and capable of carrying up to 400 kg of bombs. Although the crew flew in an open cockpit, exposing them to the elements, it was the most advanced and lethal bomber of its day. Crucially for Brandenburg and his Squadrons flying from Ghent in occupied Belgium, it had the range to reach London. Initially, they needed to refuel at an airfield close to the Belgian coast, but the Gothas were later fitted with extra fuel tanks, allowing an uninterrupted flight to London and back.

    On the night of 6-7 May 1917, a lone Albatross C.VII flew over London at night, the first German aircraft to ever do so, and dropped five small bombs around the Holloway and Hackney area. One person died and two were injured. The aircraft returned to Belgium and encountered no opposition either from aircraft or anti-aircraft guns. This can justly be called one of a series of probing air raids designed to test Britain’s Home Defence system.

    The Albatros C.VII was a reconnaissance aircraft which could carry light bombs3 inch 20 cwt anti-aircraft cannon

    Due to the lack of Zeppelin raids and the need for experienced pilots on the Western Front the Home Defences had been scaled down. By March 1917, Home Defence pilots had been reduced from 130 to 71. Anti-aircraft coverage had also been drastically reduced with many being sent to be used by merchant shipping to help combat the German submarine threat. This followed a recommendation from Field Marshal Lord French, commander-in-chief of British Home Forces on 6 March 1917 that ‘No aeroplanes or seaplanes, even if recognized as hostile, will be fired at, either by day or night, except by those anti-aircraft guns situated near the Restricted Coast Area which are specially detailed for the purpose.’ The reasoning behind this strange recommendation was to free up anti-aircraft crews so they could be sent to the Western Front. After all it was thought that the airship menace had been seen off and that the Home Defence system, set up to deal with the Zeppelin raids was no longer required at such a scale. Although intelligence sources warned of an impending larger raid by aircraft, this was ignored. This raid by a lone aircraft was viewed as a one-off incident, with fatal consequences.

    Sir John French

    On 25 May 1917, 23 aircraft of Brandenburg’s ‘Englandgeschwader’ took off for their first raid on London. Brandenburg’s Gotha’s tail was distinctively painted blood red to distinguish it from the others. Signals would be given to other members of the Geschwader via his aircraft by hand signals or a coloured flare system.

    The only thing that saved London from being bombed on this day was the weather. Low cloud covered the land and Brandenburg was forced to signal to his aircraft to head back and go for the secondary objective. These objectives were targets in Kent which was free of cloud cover. The railworks at Ashford were hit. Aircraft were scrambled from bases in Manston, Westgate, Stow Maries and Rochford but the rate of climb of the Royal Aircraft Factory BE12 was slow. Of the 74 aircraft that took off only two came within range. One pilot, Flight Lieutenant Reginald Leslie of the Royal Naval Air Service did manage to fire at a Gotha and hit it from less than a hundred yards range. His claim that it nose-dived pouring smoke went undetermined, but he was awarded a Distinguished Service Cross for his actions. It was also reported by pilots that at this rate of climb and altitude their engines were liable to burst into flames.

    RAF BE12painting

    Flying over the Hythe Royal Flying Corps School of Gunnery the Gotha intruders dropped bombs which missed their main target and killed the verger of Hythe parish church and a member of the congregation. The vicar and his wife were injured. They then turned to Folkestone. It was a bright day and crowds were out, buying shopping, queuing for much needed food and enjoying the Whitsun holiday weekend. People recalled hearing the distinctive hum of the Gotha but had no reason to flee. There was no warning and one eyewitness saw two aircraft ‘emerging from the disc of the sun almost overhead. Then four more, or five, in a line, and others, all light, bright silver insects hovering against the blue of the sky…There were about a score in all, and we were charmed with the beauty of the sight. I am sure few of us thought seriously of danger.’ [quoted in Neil Hanson, First Blitz]

    First Blitz

    The crowds assumed these aircraft were British.

    The first targets that were hit were west of Folkestone, bombs fell on Sandgate and the military camps at Shorncliffe and Cheriton. A group of Canadian infantry were assembled for evening exercise and a bomb fell in the middle of them, 93 were wounded and 17 died.

    Folkestone then experienced the full horror of aerial bombing. 20 high-explosive and 30 anti-personnel bombs rained down on Folkestone and its population. They fell within the crowds causing carnage. The eyewitness reports are too graphic to reproduce even by modern day standards. 95 men, women and children were killed and 195 wounded. Many had mental scars that would never go away.

    Brandenburg’s squadrons would release the rest of their bombs over Dover and only then encounter opposition in the form of anti-aircraft fire. Over three hundred shells were fired but none hit. No. 4 Squadron and No. 9 Squadrons based in Dunkirk did intercept the returning Gothas and shot one down. One other Gotha was also reported to have been shot down but later it was reported by a crew mate that the pilot had ‘gone mad’ after the bombing and crashed.

    RemainsGotha

    Gotha G.IV wrecked and captured

    Like the previous airship raids, this raid caused outrage and the term ‘baby killers’ was once again seen in the press, German aircrews were depicted as degenerate. Demands were made from the public regarding defence and 20 aircraft were drafted into the Home Squadrons and experienced anti-aircraft observers redeployed from the battlefields of France to the Thames Estuary to watch for approaching bombers. This did not stop another raid taking place on the 5 June 1917 when 22 Gothas raided. Once again, the weather came to London’s rescue and secondary targets were hit. This time, these were the naval dockyards at Sheerness in Kent. As they flew towards their target they were spotted, and aircraft flew to intercept but could not reach them. The Gothas dropped 21 bombs and some anti-personnel mines at Shoeburyness. The majority of these fell on a beach and not the intended target of the munitions works and Army gunnery ranges. Two soldiers were however killed.

    On the attack run towards Sheerness one bomber was shot down. The rest of the Englandgeschwader flew on and dropped 5,000 kg of bombs onto the target. Many hit the docks causing fires and the sinking of some small vessels. Several bombs did not explode, and such was still the novelty of this type of warfare that a group of soldiers had to be stopped from prodding an unexploded bomb with their canes.

    Following the examination of the crashed Gotha, and the interrogation of its surviving airman which revealed the existence of the ‘Englandgeschwader’, Sir John French agreed that anti-aircraft could fire at enemy aircraft and RFC squadrons were drilled in taking off quickly so they could gain height in time, an early form of the famous ‘scramble’. However, all of these preparations would not stop the next raid. Brandenburg and his ‘Englandgeschwader’ had their sights firmly set on London…

  • RAF Stories – Amazing Mothers

    RAF Stories – Amazing Mothers

    As today is Mother’s Day we would like to feature several RAF stories about mothers. In this blog, we combine the stories of people whose mothers served in the RAF and stories about mothers of RAF personnel.

    Jackie Moggridge with her daughter Candida

    Our first story is from Katherine Du Plat-Taylor, who joined the Air Transport Auxiliary during the Second World War instead of learning Domestic Science in College like her mother wanted. Katherine served as an Operations Clerk deep underground in the tunnels below Dover. She worked with Air Sea Rescue, plotting the location of aircraft on a table map in an operations room, saving the lives of hundreds of pilots.

    Her service required a lot of courage and self-sacrifice, but can you even imagine how terrifying it was for her mother? The story that Katherine reveals in this video can be told about many other mothers, whose children were serving in the military during the war. Every day they lived in fear of receiving some terrible news from the front line.

    The heroine of our second story was serving in the RAF herself during the Second World War. Candida Adkins’ mother, Dolores Therese Moggridge, also known as Jackie, served as an ATA pilot, flying more than 1,500 aircraft including Spitfires and received the King’s Commendation for Service in the Air.

    Jackie Moggridge

    In this video Candida tells the story about her mother’s parachute jump. Jackie was the first woman who made a parachute jump in South Africa. This story reveals in detail what a fearless and daring lady Candida’s mother was.

    Lynn Martin came to the RAF Museum London to see the portrait of her mother, Violet Sharples, in our recent art exhibition War Brides by Bev Tosh, a Canadian artist. The exhibition portraits showed young women who fell in love and got married to the airmen from different countries during the Second World War.

    War Brides Exhibition at the RAF Museum London

    Violet served as a Leading Airwoman in the RAF and plotted the dreaded V-1 Flying Bombs (“buzz bombs”) detected by early Radar entering British airspace during the Second World War.

    At the end of the war Violet fell in love with a Canadian pilot and became his war bride. In 1946, following her husband, she immigrated from England to Canada. Violet’s story reflects the stories of thousands of other young and brave women who made an amazing leap of faith for the love of an airman and moved to the other countries away from their friends and families to start a new life there.

    Our next video shows two incredible ladies, a mother and a daughter, who are believed to be the first mother and daughter in the RAF to both become chartered engineers. Group Captain Emily Flynn who is currently serving as an engineer in the RAF, followed the footsteps of her mother, Suzanne Flynn.

    However, in Suzanne’s time Science, Technology, Engineering and Mathematics (STEM) was much more male-dominated. It was very challenging for her to push the boundaries and choose the career of an RAF engineer. In this video Suzanne tells the story of how she discovered this opportunity and became the inspiration her daughter needed to follow in her footsteps.

    Flight Lieutenant Joan Ochuodho joined the RAF in the age of 24 after a succession of jobs in marketing and accounting and serving in the Navy. As she decided to join the RAF in 2003 right at the heat of Afghanistan conflict, all her family disapproved of her idea. Her mother, who was living in Kenya, was the only one who supported Joan and encouraged her to change her career.

    In this video, Joan explains how vital it was to have her mother’s support and how it has changed her life.

    Our last story is from Emma Marianne, an RAF mother whose son serves in the RAF. When her son joined the RAF Regiment as a Gunner in October 2017, Emma decided to undertake an epic walk to raise money and awareness for the RAF Association. During her ‘Walk for Wings’ she walked more than 2,000 miles visiting all active RAF Stations on the U.K’s mainland finishing in RAF Lossiemouth, where her son was serving at the time.

    Emma Marianne visiting the RAF Museum London during her 'Walk for Wings'

    In this video Emma reveals how she felt handing her son over to the RAF. Her experience can be relevant for many other mothers of RAF cadets. Their instinct is to be with their children and to protect them, but they have to ‘take a back seat’ and let their sons and daughters take care of themselves.

    We hope you have enjoyed the stories we selected for the Mother’s Day. All these mothers had different experiences but they all had to show bravery, stamina and support for their children and in my opinion I believe that they all succeeded.

    RAF Stories Project

    These videos are part of our RAF Stories Project which brings together as many people’s experiences with the RAF as possible. You can download our RAF Stories App to discover more stories and share your own.

    The app is specifically designed to make the recording of the new story as easy as possible. If you have your own story of an amazing RAF mother or any other RAF story that you would like to share we would love to hear from you.

  • How an American saved our German Heinkel He 111

    How an American saved our German Heinkel He 111

    The Heinkel He 111 was a bomber in service with the Luftwaffe, the Nazi German air force before and during the Second World War. At the time of its entry into service in the late 1930s, it was one of the finest combat aircraft in the world. It was the main German bomber during the 1940/1941 Blitz over London, although by that time, its operations were mainly restricted to flying at night. It had become too vulnerable against British day fighters such as the Spitfire. In various roles, it soldiered on until the last days of the war.

    Heinkel He 111 at the RAF Museum

    Heinkels in formation

    painting

    The Heinkel He 111 was originally designed as a passenger aircraft and because of this, quite unusual for a bomber, it has windows along the fuselage. However, our 1944 He 111 with serial number 701152 and individual code NT+SL went back to its roots. The seats and straps which are still inside the aircraft today, show that this is a H-20 variant, optimised for carrying 16 paratroopers beside its 3 crew members. This is somewhat surprising as Germany was on the defensive this late in the war and was unlikely to drop soldiers in support of a ground offensive. It is more likely it would have dropped secret agents behind enemy lines. For this reason, the H-20 could carry two 800 kg (1,764 lb) supply containers.

    American forces captured this aircraft in May 1945, in the final days of the war. It was flown to Cherbourg on the French coast for shipment to the USA for evaluation. Due to the lack of space on the allocated vessel, HMS Reaper, this did not occur. A three-man American crew of the 56th USAAF Fighter Group, Major Carter, Major Williamson and Captain Ordway took the decision to fly the abandoned aircraft to their base in Boxted, Essex. The He 111 was painted in the unit’s colours: matt purple / black with the nose and tail rudder in red. On one side of the fuselage was a monogram, in red outlined in white, forming the individual identification letter. This consisted of a letter O in which was a letter C and centred in that the letter W – the initials of the three-man American crew: Ordway, Carter and Williamson. When they received their orders to return to the US, they realised they had to leave their ‘private’ He 111 behind, possibly to be scrapped. They came up with an idea…

    The Museum was contacted recently by Azure Carter, granddaughter of Major James Carter. She filled us in as to what really happened. Her grandfather was a successful American fighter ace. He was credited with 8 ‘kills’ flying the Republic Thunderbolt, the largest and most powerful single-engined fighter aircraft of the Second World War. He logged 450 combat hours or 137 missions, although when he was assigned a desk job, he flew on without logging his flights.

    while he was stationed in England there was a woman painter who painted the pilots with their planes in exchange for ration stamps

    After hostilities ended, he and his two colleagues were eager to get back to their base in Boxted, Essex when they noticed an abandoned German Heinkel He 111. They took it upon themselves to fly the German bomber, although none of them had received any instructions how to fly the aircraft. Prior to landing they had to fly rounds around the airfield while they tried to figure out how to lower the landing gear. But somehow, they managed to bring the Heinkel safely on the ground. In the following weeks, they flew the aircraft several times, attracting great interest wherever they went. But when in September 1945, they were ordered to return to the States, they knew they would get in trouble for possessing an aircraft without documentation as the Heinkel was not officially on the USAAF’s books.

    Carter and his friends first thought of cutting it up. But as it was such a fine aircraft they could not bring themselves to do this. In any case, dismembering and disposing of such a large airframe could not be readily undertaken. Carter could not pass it to any other American establishment, so the RAF was considered, particularly an RAF cadet airfield where aerodrome security would not be tight. Feeling that the British might also be loath to accept it without transfer documents an act of stealth was planned.

    At dawn on the morning of 12 September, Carter took off from Boxted and landed at RAF North Weald, parked the Heinkel near the watch tower and was immediately collected by Captain Charles Cole, flying a 56th Group’s transport aircraft, and returned to Boxted. It must have been quite a sight for the people at RAF North Weald to suddenly wake up and see a German bomber parked near the watch tower! Before the British could start an investigation, Carter and his unit were on their way to the States.

    Heinkel He 111 in USAAF colours

    The aircraft was later put on display, first in the German Aircraft Display at RAE Farnborough and later at several RAF stations. In the late 1960s, its interior was used for several shots in the Battle of Britain film. In 1978, it moved to the RAF Museum in London, where it remains today. It is here that Azure saw the Heinkel her grandfather flew in 1945.

    RAF He 111

    She went up close to the aircraft, went underneath to have a peek inside and imagined what it must have been like for her grandfather to fly this rare aircraft. To hear the story in her own words, have a look at this video we made of her visit to the RAF Museum London.

    Azure

    inside the He 111