Tag: RAF

The Boeing Chinook

The Boeing CH-47 Chinook Helicopter entered RAF service in November 1980. Throughout its 40 years of service the Chinook has made an immeasurable contribution to the Service, operating in every major conflict since the Falklands War, and delivering disaster relief and supporting communities across the UK. As a multifunctional workhorse, the Chinook is the backbone of Britain’s tactical logistics.

So what is the Chinook? It is a 2-engine multi-purpose twin rotor transport helicopter that was primarily developed for troop and equipment transport.

The twin rotor aspect is the most recognisable aspect of the Chinook. However, it was not a novel design. The RAF’s earlier Bristol Belvedere helicopter also used this system. So, what is the reason for it? A helicopter with a single rotor will have the tendency to rotate along the movement of the blades, a bit like a hammer thrower who rotates with the chained ball. Most helicopters have a tail rotor which pushes back, keeping the helicopter stable. Pushing harder or relaxing allows the helicopter to turn left or right. With two rotors rotating in opposite directions the need for a tail rotor is eliminated, allowing all power to be used for lift and thrust.

Two turboshaft engines were placed on either side of the rear pylon. They each had around 2,200 hp each, around the same as a late-war Spitfire, but a modern Chinook now has twice that. Turboshaft engines are essentially jet engines but they are connected via gearbox and several shafts to a combining gearbox in front of the rear pylon. From here shafts go to both rotors which have their own gearbox. These gearboxes reduce the engines’ speed of around 15,000rpm to the rotors’ much calmer rotational speed of 225rpm which gives the Chinook its distinctive ‘wokka’ sound. Also, if one of the Chinook’s turboshaft engines fail, the other can drive both rotors.

What’s more, the ability to adjust power to either rotor makes it able to carry more weight in the front or back of the helicopter. That is an important benefit to cargo lifting and dropping. It also allows the Chinook to perform one of its trademark moves, ‘the pinnacle’. This manoeuvre sees the Chinook setting its rear wheels onto a ridge or cliff edge with the front still in the air. It allows troops on or off the helicopter while it hovers and looks incredible.

Also instantly recognisable is the large pylon at the rear. The rear rotor is placed higher than the front to reduce the air disruption from the front rotor on to efficiency of the rear rotor. The Chinook’s automatic flight control system (AFCS) stabilises and provides autopilot functions, making the Chinook a relatively ‘easy’ helicopter to fly.

The design is optimised for maximising internal space. The fuselage is 15.25m long with the cockpit at the front, with a door to each side, a ramp on the other end, and a massive cargo bay in between. It’s 9.3m long, 2.29m wide and 1.98m tall, so big enough to take a vehicle or up to 24 stretchers. It had a maximum payload of around 10,000 lb (4,500 kg) though current versions can carry twice that much. Beneath the airframe are three external hooks that can be used individually or together.

The Chinook is lightly armoured, protecting it against small arms fire from below. There is also the ability to place machine guns in the side doors and at the rear. Modern Chinooks carry sophisticated anti-missile defences.

It was these design features that interested the American armed forces when they were looking for a new helicopter. Back in 1956 a replacement was sought for the H-37 helicopter, license-produced in the UK as the Westland Wessex. Vertol, later taken over by Boeing, submitted their twin rotor Model 107, which was chosen. The US Navy ordered it as the CH-46 Sea Knight but the US Army wanted a larger helicopter. The result was the Chinook as we know it today.

It was taken into service in 1962 by the US Army and became an important workhorse during the Vietnam war. It was used to carry heavy loads such as artillery guns to remote jungle areas or to recover downed aircraft. Its operational success led to its adoption by forces around the world. Well over a thousand Chinooks have been delivered to friendly armed forces such as Australia, Egypt, Greece, Iran, Italy, Japan, Morocco, the Netherlands, Singapore, Spain, Taiwan, Thailand, Turkey, South Korea and of course the United Kingdom.

The UK ordered 30 CH-47C ‘choppers’ as the Chinook HC1, which stands for Helicopter, Cargo, Mk 1. No.18 Squadron was the first operational squadron to be equipped with the Chinook in August 1981. A few months later the Falklands conflict erupted, and the Squadron was soon involved, flying stores and supplies to ships of the task force being assembled at Devonport. This included flying a 5-ton propeller bearing to HMS Invincible at sea in the English Channel, having very publicly departed Portsmouth the day before, thus avoiding an embarrassing return to port for repair.

Helicopters were to play an important part in any operation to recapture the Falklands, but the Royal Navy lacked a heavy lift helicopter and the RAF’s Chinooks were the only aircraft that could fulfil this capability gap. Six aircraft were rapidly prepared to join the Task Force, receiving modifications which improved the aircrafts’ survivability and operational capabilities. This included the installation of chaff dispensers, infra-red flare decoy dispensers, radar warning receivers and fittings for a machine gun. Four Chinooks were carried on board the Atlantic Conveyor cargo ship toward the Falklands.

One Chinook stayed on Ascension Island, the staging post between Britain and the Falklands. A Soviet spy ship was anchored near the island, and it was suspected that they were passing on information to the Argentinians. The ship had a large white superstructure housing all its aerials. A Chinook pilot offered to fly out in his helicopter to donate a bottle of malt to the Russian captain and then perhaps inadvertently ‘blast the superstructure and aerial to blazes’ with his downwash. It remained a plan. Luckily, as it would later appear that the Soviets had not been helping the Argentinians.

While the soldiers landed on the Falklands on 21 May, the Chinooks stayed on board. Few people understood the capability of the Chinook until it was too late. The Chinook’s lifting ability was almost five times that of the next biggest helicopter employed, the Sea King, and it had been envisaged that Chinooks would ferry troops across the difficult terrain, thereby keeping them fresh for battle and bring them into action quickly.

However, it took until 25 May when the first Chinook ‘Bravo November’ was made ready. After several ground runs of her engines she departed to conduct an air test. Shortly after taking off, the Atlantic Conveyor found itself under air attack and the three remaining Chinooks were lost in the fire. The loss of the Chinooks meant that the planned swift movement of troops across the Falklands could no longer take place. The Royal Marines and Paratroopers would now have to largely march or yomp or tab their way across the Falklands.

Unable to return to Atlantic Conveyor, Bravo November landed on the crowded deck of the aircraft carrier HMS Hermes, where her presence was not welcome. The ship’s captain threatened to have the Chinook pushed overboard if it was not removed because it would hamper the carrier’s ability to mount its own air operations. After an overnight stay the aircraft departed for the bridgehead at San Carlos.

With only one operational aircraft, No. 18 Squadron quickly had to reorganise itself. Ground and air personnel were selected but all the spares, manuals, servicing tools and equipment had been lost, and without this equipment it was not known how long the aircraft would remain serviceable.

The groundcrews spent the first three days sleeping in the open in freezing conditions. For the rest of the campaign, they continued to keep the aircraft airworthy despite the lack of equipment and tools. Chief Technician Tom Kinsella having lost the servicing paperwork for the aircraft, used an exercise book as a log book. This document, now in the Museum’s collection, records how after every day flying, Tom logged the defects, that would likely have grounded the aircraft under normal operation circumstances, servicing conducted and repairs made, ending each day ‘aircraft ‘s’(afe) to fly until receipt of spares’.

On 30 May the Chinook suffered an oil leak in its gear box. With no spares to repair it, Tom provided the crew with two gallons of oil with the instructions that if the situation became severe to put down and top up. With that he signed the aircraft as fit to fly: ‘I should have never let it go, but, I am convinced I would have been overridden’.

That night the weather was poor with frequent snow showers. The plan was to capture the prominent feature of Mount Kent which dominated the routes of advance from San Carlos but also overlooked the Argentinian defensive positions around Stanley, the capital of the Falklands. Bravo November carried three 105mm guns (two carried internally and one underslung).

On the return flight, the aircraft suffered an altimeter failure and hit a body of water. The rotors wound down as the engines ingested water. Believing the aircraft had crashed, co-pilot Andy Lawless prepared to evacuate by jettisoning his door. Miraculously the aircraft engines recovered, and the aircraft flew off the water.

The door which had been jettisoned contained maps and vital Identification Friend or Foe (IFF) codes to be used on the return. Without the IFF codes the British Rapier anti-aircraft missile batteries might have mistaken Bravo November as an Argentinian Chinook. The crew needed to make the Rapier batteries aware of their approach without appearing hostile, what is termed lame duck procedures, which the pilots did by turning on and off their lights to show that they were friendly. For his efforts on Mount Kent, pilot Squadron Leader Dick Langworthy was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC).

The following day a thorough inspection was made of the aircraft to look for damage. Apart from some slight damage to the ramp and aerials the aircraft was still deemed serviceable and was ready to return to operations. The cause of the oil leak was identified, and a temporary repair made which stopped the leak for the remainder of the campaign. The cockpit door, however, could not be replaced and for the rest of the campaign the sole Chinook flew without the left-hand cockpit door which Andy Lawless described as ‘bloody cold’.

Despite the discomfort to the aircrew, the missing door would two days later save the aircraft from near disaster. As crew member Tom Jones recounted ‘…there were artillery guys attached to the marines, on the high ground to our left. They were about to open fire because they thought BN was an Argentinian Chinook, and then one astute corporal said “Wait a minute, hang on, no, it’s ours, it hasn’t got a door in the left hand side of the cockpit.” So what happened disastrously nearly a day before, we suddenly found out saved our lives…’

Bravo November continued to fly support helicopter operations for the remainder of the war, moving troops, supplies and ammunition in support of the ground forces as they battled toward Stanley. Tom Kinsella remembered that the morale was very high despite all the problems encountered in keeping BN operational, ‘We didn’t want to be reinforced, we wanted to see this thing through ourselves’. Which they just managed to do, two hours after the Argentinian surrender on 14 June a second Chinook arrived on the Falklands. Ironically following the surrender, No. 18 Squadron groundcrew removed the door from a captured Argentinian Chinook and fitted it to Bravo November. It would fly for many years with its ‘Argentinian door’.

During the 18 days ashore, Bravo November had flown everyday bar one, carried 2,150 troops, 95 casualties, 550 prisoners of war and 550 tons of stores. In a footnote in the RAF’s official history, it was noted that the tonnage was more than the ‘total carried by an entire squadron of Sea Kings for the same period’. An amazing achievement considering the scarcity of supplies, equipment, and manuals available to the groundcrew.

As said, Sqn Ldr Dick Langworthy received the DFC but the long career of Bravo November would see a further three pilots awarded the DFC while flying it. The arrival of Britain’s most famous helicopter to the RAF Museum Midlands is therefore a privilege and a most welcome addition to the Museum’s collection.

The achievements of that sole Chinook concreted the Chinook’s reputation. Ever since, the Chinook has always been a first-choice aircraft whenever the British armed forces have been called upon. That became evident during the Gulf War of 1991.

The Chinook was now considered a vital tool to move troops into the region, and toward their starting positions, and once the ground offensive had started, to keep them supplied as they moved deeper into Iraq and Kuwait. It was a Chinook which was used to transport a Special Air Service (SAS) patrol on the infamous Bravo Two Zero mission. In the aftermath of the conflict Chinooks delivered food and supplies to thousands of Kurdish refugees from Iraq.

During the mid-1990s, Boeing upgraded the existing HC1s to the HC2 standard with more powerful engines, improved avionics, infrared jammers, missile approach warning indicators, chaff and flare dispensers, a long-range fuel system and machine gun mountings.

In 1999 the Chinooks were instrumental in bringing in NATO peacekeeping forces into Kosovo after Yugoslav forces retreated. They also transported Kosovar refugees to safety and brought supplies and relief to the stricken country. The next year the Chinooks were again in action when they evacuated thousands of civilians from Freetown in Sierra Leone.

In 2003 they received the ability to operate in darkness with better navigational units, thermal imagers, moving map displays and night vision goggles. During the invasion of Iraq that year, a formation of five Chinooks spearheaded a joint forces assault with the US Marines on the Al Faw Oil refinery to prevent an act of environmental terrorism by Iraqi forces. Over the next three days the Chinooks averaged 19 flying hours a day. This was the largest helicopter assault in RAF history and the first opposed helicopter assault since the Suez Crisis in 1956.

To many people the Chinook is most associated with the conflict in Afghanistan where the Chinook was the principal airborne workhorse for almost two decades. The conflict saw the Chinook as the main air ambulance. As a flying emergency room, it saved the lives of many injured soldiers and Afghan civilians across the Helmand province by swiftly flying them back to the hospital in Camp Bastion. To some extent air transport was more important in this theatre of war because of the omnipresence of roadside bombs (IEDs) which gravely hindered normal road transport. In Afghanistan, the Chinook Force flew over 41,000 hours, extracted 13,000 casualties and its crews have been awarded numerous gallantry awards.

In 2014, the Chinooks distributed relief aid to thousands of Iraqi refugees trapped on a mountain in northern Iraq. The RAF dropped aid packages to stricken members of the Yazidi community hiding from Deash. But also closer to home the Chinook comes to the rescue of those in need. In June 2019, a Chinook was deployed to tackle the floods in Lincolnshire, dropping 1-ton gravel bags to create an artificial dam.

Around 10 years ago the Chinooks entered the digital age when their systems were upgraded with multifunction displays, a digital moving map display, an infrared detector, as well as (again) more powerful engines. In 2015, 14 new Chinook HC6 helicopters were purchased while several existing Chinooks were upgraded to a similar standard.

The Chinook is currently employed in Mali to support the French-led fight against jihadis. No. 1310 Flight is performing a range of missions from the transport of passengers and freight between main operating bases, to the insertion of troops to desert locations. To achieve this the detachment regularly overcomes the challenges of the environment, ranging from intense desert thunderstorms to searing heat, with temperatures regularly peaking above 40 degrees and seasonal flooding.

The RAF has not grown tired of the Chinook. Quite the opposite, it has ordered several new Chinooks with an advanced digital cockpit, a modernised airframe to increase stability and improve survivability, and a Digital Flight Control System, allowing pilots to hover in areas of limited visibility. A Sustainment Programme aims to extend the lives of existing Chinook for at least another 20 years, taking the Chinook fleet beyond 2040.

The RAF Museum Midlands has recently taken ownership of Bravo November and is now on public display. Come and visit Britain’s most famous helicopter.

1 April 2022
The Avro Vulcan: Part 1

Today is not only the start of our Vulcan Challenge, which we invite you to be a part of, 14 January is also the anniversary of the delivery of the last Vulcan delivered to the RAF. On this day in 1965 the 134th Vulcan was taken into service. Two had been prototypes, 45 were of the earlier B1 design and 89 were improved B2 models.

The most distinctive aspect of the Vulcan is undoubtedly its large triangular ‘delta’ wing. The delta wing has been a common design feature for combat aircraft ever since but back in the 1950s this was considered revolutionary and somewhat risky. The tailless delta, that is without a horizontal tail plane, had been a theoretical model in aeronautics for a while as it promised a combination of low drag, lightweight structure and room for internal fuel.

German engineer Alexander Lippisch in Germany was the first to build such a triangular wing and in 1931 he flew the first tailless delta plane. During the Second World War, he designed several delta wing fighter and bomber aircraft although none were ever built. Beside the delta wing aircraft, he also designed the world’s first and only operational rocket fighter. The Me 163 Komet was the fastest aircraft in the world. A rare example is on display at the RAF Museum Midlands. After the war the advanced German aeronautical ideas and technology were eagerly studied by the victorious Allies. Even Lippisch himself was hastily brought to the US, where he was recruited by Convair, a major aircraft manufacturer.

Avro, together with Vickers, Short Brothers and Handley Page, was asked to design a new strategic bomber aircraft under Specification B.35/46. It had to meet the following requirements:

– a large flight range

– be able to carry a large weapon load

– a high top speed

– be able to operate at great heights

– easy to maintain

– able to be used anywhere.

Avro’s team under the leadership of the designer of the Lancaster, Roy Chadwick, realised that this would not have been possible with a conventional design. They quickly adopted the Lippisch delta wing configuration. The new aircraft would have a leading edge at an angle of 45° and the four most powerful turbojet engines available.

To help gain data for the radical new design, one-third scale model ‘mini-Vulcans’ were built. These were the Avro Type 707s. The first 707 flew in 1949 and although the first prototype crashed and killed its test pilot, they proved the validity of the Avro design. The RAF Museum has a 707C in its collection. This is WZ744, the only two-seater variant, meant to train pilots for the single-seat 707s. The RAF Museum is looking for a partner to take over WZ744 which hopefully will lead to it returning to public display soon.

The first Vulcan flew on 30 August 1952, watched by Avro employees and a small band of press. The gloss white painted VX770 was fitted with an ejection seat for the pilot, a conventional control wheel, powered by four Rolls-Royce Avon engines, but I did not yet have its wing fuel tanks installed. A temporary tank was carried in the bomb bay.

The aircraft was flown by Wing Commander Roly Falk, who had been the Chief Test pilot at the Royal Aircraft Establishment in Farnborough where he flew around 300 different aircraft. In 1950, he joined Avro and in subsequent years he demonstrated the Vulcan at the annual Farnborough air show, where in 1955 he amazed the crowd by barrel-rolling the Vulcan across the airfield. He was rebuked by the organisers for this manoeuvre, but only because performing aerobatics in an aircraft weighing 69 tons and with a 99-foot wingspan was ‘not the done thing’.

At Falk’s suggestion, a fighter-style control stick replaced the control wheel. Falk was famous for flying in a pin-striped lounge suit, tie, pocket handkerchief and often sunglasses. Find out more about Falk and other test pilot in the excellent blog post by Museum Volunteer Tim Bracey.

The test flights by Falk and his fellow test pilots revealed that the Vulcan’s wing, at higher speeds, was suffering from buffeting during manoeuvres. It necessitated a partial re-design. The production B1 gained a kinked and dropped leading edge, as well as more powerful Bristol Olympus engines.

The first Vulcan B1s entered service in 1956 with No. 230 Operational Conversion Unit at RAF Waddington. The aircraft had a crew of five people: two pilots, a navigator, a radar operator and an electronic warfare operator and had a bomb bay initially intended for two atomic bombs of the Yellow Sun Mk 1 type and later for the WE177. The Vulcan started its career as a strategic bomber intended for high-altitude operations.

Four years after the Vulcan B1 work began on an improved B2 design with more powerful engines, modified wing, electronic jamming equipment and inflight refuelling capability. The increased performance offered by the Vulcan B2 made it ideal for modification to carry the Blue Steel nuclear stand-off bomb. This weapon allowed the aircraft to launch its attack from outside the immediate missile defences of a target and thereby extended the effectiveness of the Royal Air Force’s airborne deterrent.

By 1966 Soviet missile defences had become so effective that, despite the improvements of the B2, Vulcans switched from high-to-low-level penetration. In 1970 the decision was taken to withdraw them from the nuclear deterrent in 1970 in favour of the Polaris ballistic missile system which could be fired underwater by the Royal Navy.

As a result, Vulcans switched to the conventional bomber role in support of NATO ground forces in Europe. In this capacity the Vulcan remained in service throughout the 1970s while awaiting the arrival of the Panavia Tornado. When the Falkland Conflict erupted in 1982, the Vulcans were on the verge of being taken out of service. Realising that it was the only bomber capable of bombing the occupied Falkland Islands from the nearest British air base, the Vulcans were readied for combat. Later this year, we will launch a couple of more blog posts to commemorate the 40th anniversary of the Falklands.

Today the entries opened for our Vulcan Challenge 2022. Choose your distance and soar your way to 100km, 250km or 500km. Standard entry starts at £20.00 and Armed Forces Entry from £15.00. And when you are next at the Museum, make sure you have a closer look at the magnificent design of the Avro Vulcan.

14 January 2022
The first flight of the Spitfire

Without any doubt, the Spitfire is the most famous British fighter aircraft in history. In use shortly before the Second World War, it became the main RAF fighter aircraft from 1941 onward, and remained with fighter squadrons until the early 1950s.

Let me take you back to the origins of the Spitfire. It is well known that the Supermarine racing seaplanes which participated in the Schneider race were an inspiration for the Spitfire. Designed by Reginald J Mitchell, the Supermarine S6B was an all-metal and aerodynamically clean design, allowing it to reach the impressive speed of 407 mph (656 km/h).

Only 18 days following the 1931 S6B’s Schneider triumph, the British Air Ministry issued Specification F7/30, which called for a modern all-metal land-based fighter aircraft. Mitchell responded with the Model 224, a monoplane with a fixed landing gear. Its complicated cooling system did not function properly, and the Air Ministry ordered the Gloster Gladiator biplane instead.

Mitchell and his team continued to work on the design, introducing a new Rolls Royce Merlin engine, a retractable landing gear, an enclosed cockpit and a new elliptical wing. Much has been written about this wing design, but the true value of the elliptical wing shape was that it allowed the wing to be as thin as possible, thereby reducing drag.

On 5 March 1936, Spitfire K5054 took off for its maiden flight. At the controls was Captain Joseph ‘Mutt’ Summers, chief test pilot for Vickers, who is quoted as saying ‘Don’t touch anything’ on landing. This had often been interpreted as stating the Spitfire was perfect, but the reality was more prosaic: he wanted to report his observations before any modifications were made.

Only few changes were made; one of which was a new propeller which dramatically increased the maximum speed to 348 mph (557 km/h), making it the faster than the newest Hawker Hurricane fighter which, around that time, was entering production. The armament was doubled from four to eight Browning machine guns.

On 3 June 1936, the Air Ministry placed an order for 310 Spitfires, an impressive number for its time. However, the Spitfire and especially its wings proved to be difficult to produce. The Spitfire’s stressed-skin construction required precision engineering skills and techniques which were rare in the aviation industry.

Supermarine had only a small factory which meant production had to be given to several subcontractors as well as the building a new factory at Castle Bromwich. However, this handover was badly managed, resulting in further delays. Because of these delays, the Air Ministry initially planned to stop production after the initial order for 310 with the Spitfire production going over to other designs, such as the new Hawker Typhoon. Luckily for the RAF, production of the Spitfire ramped up, as the Typhoon ran into great development issues, delaying its entry into service until late 1941.

The first Spitfire Mk. I to enter service with the RAF did so with No. 19 Squadron on 4 August 1938. The pilots immediately fell in love with the aircraft, which flew as wonderful as it looked. They recognised it as a thoroughbred combining a perfection of design with superb handling characteristics.

More changes were gradually introduced such as a three-bladed metal propeller and a new cockpit hood, finally giving the Spitfire its now-recognisable look. By the outbreak of the Second World War, there were 306 Spitfires in service with the RAF, 71 in reserve and 2,000 on order. Initially, most Spitfires were held back in Britain, with the Hawker Hurricane and Gloster Gladiator doing most of the fighting against the German Luftwaffe in Norway, Belgium and France.

The Spitfire came to the fore during the evacuation of Dunkirk, and of course, the Battle of Britain. After 1940 the Spitfire gradually replaced the Hurricane in Fighter Command and remained the main fighter aircraft until the end of the war.

5 March 2021
The Lancaster enters the fray

It was on the night of 3/4 March 1942 that the Avro Lancaster conducted its first operational sortie. No. 44 (Rhodesia) Squadron took their brand-new Lancasters on a mine laying mission of Heligoland Bight. Mine laying is an often-overlooked task of Bomber Command and yet it was an important one. The Allies succeeded in stopping the free navigation of German shipping, prompting the Nazis to commit great resources to clear the sea lanes.

No. 44 Squadron was the first squadron to be equipped with the new Avro Lancaster. During the First World War it had been a celebrated night fighter squadron commanded by Arthur ‘Bomber’ Harris. He would go on to lead Bomber Command in its great offensive against Germany during the Second World War. In terms of casualties, the Squadron suffered the third highest number of any squadron of the RAF during the war.

The Lancaster would perform is first operational bombing mission on 17 April, when Squadron Leader JD Nettleton led six of twelve bombers from No. 44 and No. 97 Squadrons – six aircraft from each – in a daylight raid on Augsburg in Germany. The Lancasters involved in the raid flew at tree-top level to attack the MAN Diesel engine factory, but the loss of aircraft was great. Only five out of the twelve returned. Nettleton was the only one of No. 44 Squadron which returned, and was awarded the Victoria Cross.

Despite the bravery of its crew, it showed that even the Lancaster could not survive over Germany during daylight. With its maximum speed of 282 mph and armament of only light calibre machine guns it was too vulnerable against Germany’s Messerschmitt Me 109 interceptors. As a result, most Lancaster sorties took place at night, targeting German cities and industry. Paradoxically, its most famous of all missions was one which targeted hydro-electric dams of the Ruhr valley. Guy Gibson’s No. 617 Squadron, known as the ‘Dambusters’, carried the ‘bouncing bomb’ (though in reality a mine), designed by Barnes Wallis. This Squadron has been known as the Dambusters ever since.

Few people realise the original design was called the Manchester. Avro’s chief design engineer, Roy Chadwick, decided to swap the two heavy Vulture engines with four lighter Merlin engines, the same that powered the Supermarine Spitfire. As much as the twin-engined Manchester design was a failure, the Lancaster was an instant success.

A long unobstructed bomb bay meant that the Lancaster could take larger bombs than other bombers, such as the 4,000 lb ‘cookie’ or the heavier ‘Blockbuster’ bombs. The biggest bomb carried was the 22,000 lb Grand Slam ‘earthquake bomb’ even though it meant removing a turret to save weight. It was the heaviest bomb dropped during the war, even bigger than the American nuclear bombs.

7,377 Lancasters were produced for the RAF and its Allies, delivering 608,612 tons of bombs in 156,000 sorties. Together with its lesser-known lookalike, the Handley Page Halifax, they formed the core of Bomber Command during most of the Second World War. The bomber was loved by its crews, who appreciated the reliability of the Lancaster, its ability to take damage and bring them home. It could also fly higher and faster than other British heavy bombers at the time.

One former pilot is Benny Goodman. In the last months of the war, he flew Lancs on daylight missions, participating in the raid that finally sank the Tirpitz battleship, and attacked Hitler’s mountain residence at Berchtesgaden. He explained to us why it was his favourite: ‘it was wonderful to fly and it would do anything you wanted from it’. He described how the Lanc would veer up as soon as the 22,000 lb Grand Slam bomb was released. The always modest Benny recently celebrated his 100th birthday.

Benny is a very humble veteran and doesn’t consider what he did exceptional. He recalls the many young men who were not that lucky. Almost half all Lancasters delivered during the war were lost on operations with the loss of over 21,000 crew members. The disadvantage of having such a large bomb bay was that there was no room for a gun turret underneath. This meant that the Lanc crews were blind from attack from below. The Germans took full advantage of this by installing upward firing guns in their night fighters. If the crew needed to abandon a struck Lancaster, the escape hatch in the nose of the Lancaster revealed a peculiar design flaw: it was too narrow. Only 15 % of the Lancaster crew were able to bail out…

One of the most lucky Lancasters is the one on display at the RAF Museum London. S-for-Sugar flew an astounding 137 missions. The average was 20! Although we have dozens of historic aircraft, the Lancaster is probably the one which impresses most. Not only does it look powerful and majestic, the Lancaster is THE symbol of Bomber Command, but it has become more than that. It has become an iconic and defining figure of the Second World War, as much as the Spitfire, or Winston Churchill.

Also our Cosford site has its own Lancaster, albeit a post-war variant. One of the limitations of the Lancaster was its inability to fly at higher (and thus safer) altitudes. The Lincoln was powered by four two-stage Merlin engines, featured an increased wingspan and lengthened fuselage and new Boulton Paul F turret with two 0.5in Browning machine guns.

To commemorate the 80 years since the first flight of the Lancaster, the RAF Museum is launching – today! – its Lancaster Challenge. Choose to complete 80K, 150K or 500K. You can run, walk, cycle or walk the dog to complete your Challenge. This Challenge is virtual which means you can participate and complete it from anywhere in the world. By entering the Lancaster Challenge, you are supporting the RAF Museum Charity and enabling us to share the stories of the crews who showed incredible bravery flying missions for Bomber Command.

100-year young Benny Goodman has your support. The Challenge is now open!

https://www.rafmuseum.org.uk/virtual-events/the-lancaster-challenge-2021

2 March 2021
The Royal Indian Air Force, 1932 – 1947

During the First World War, four Indian volunteers – Lieutenants Shri Krishna Chanda Welinkar, Hardit Singh Malik, Errol Suvo Chunder Sen and Indra Lal Roy – served as fighter pilots with the Royal Flying Corps. In September 1917, Sen was shot down and became a prisoner-of-war; and over the next 10 months, Malik was wounded and Welinkar and Roy were killed. ‘Laddie’ Roy destroyed 10 enemy aircraft before he fell, and on 21 September 1918, he was posthumously awarded the RAF’s new Distinguished Flying Cross. Read more about them in my previous blog post on ‘South Asian Volunteers in the RAF – Part One’.

In the inter-war years, the idea of self-determination gained widespread support in British India. In keeping with this, a committee chaired by General Sir Andrew Skeen met at Simla, in August 1925, to investigate the ‘Indianisation’ of the Indian Army’s officer corps. The creation of a military academy equivalent to Sandhurst was also examined. The Skeen Committee reported in April 1927, and one of its recommendations was that Indian cadets be accepted for officer training at RAF Cranwell. The bravery of the RFC’s South Asian pilots was referenced in support of this, and veteran Hardit Singh Malik’s impressive appearance before the committee lent added weight. Discussions between the British and Indian governments continued until Lord Birkenhead, Secretary of State for India, approved the creation of an Indian Air Force on 5 April 1928. The new service would be open to men of all faiths and castes drawn from every part of the subcontinent.

The first six officer cadets – Subroto Mukerjee, HC Sirkar, Bhupendra Singh, Aizad Awan, Amarjeet Singh and Jagat Narain Tandon – began their training at RAF Cranwell in September 1930. The Indian Air Force came into being on 8 October 1932, and the six flight cadets were commissioned the same day. All qualified as pilots except ‘Titch’ Tandon who was too small to fly aeroplanes and instead became an Equipment Officer. Subroto Mukerjee was Indra Lal Roy’s nephew, and in 1954, he would become the first Indian to command the IAF.

No. 1 Squadron IAF was formed at Drigh Road, Karachi on 1 April 1933, and equipped with four Westland Wapitis. A desperate shortage of educated recruits meant that there were only enough technicians, or ‘Hawai Sepoys’ to form one flight; and the Squadron would not be at full strength until 1938. Most of the technicians had previously been employed in railway workshops.

In April 1936, No. 1 Squadron began flying reconnaissance, artillery spotting and ground attack operations against tribal insurgents on the North-West Frontier between India and Afghanistan. These operations proved cheap, effective and relatively bloodless compared to those mounted solely by ground troops. Aircrew, however, faced the likelihood of a grisly death if they were forced down and captured by the tribesmen. In 1939, an IAF Volunteer Reserve was formed with its pilots trained at civilian flying schools. These men were posted to five new coastal defence flights detailed to protect India’s main ports. The IAF entered the Second World War in September 1939 with only one full squadron, but although few in number, the existing units provided a basis for the rapid expansion of the Service.

In August 1940, 24 Indians were sent to the UK for pilot training with the intention of assessing ‘the fighting quality of Indian personnel under active service conditions.’ Eight of the Indians trained as fighter pilots, and began flying operationally in RAF squadrons after the Battle of Britain. One third of the 24 volunteers were killed in action. Pilot Officer Mahinder Singh Pujji, who flew Hurricanes with Nos. 43 and 258 Squadrons, is probably the best known of the group; and like HS Malik, he always wore his turban when flying.

In addition to the 24, some 200 Indians resident in Britain volunteered to join the RAF and Women’s Auxiliary Air Force. One such volunteer was Sergeant Shailendra Eknath Sukthankar, who served as a navigator with No. 83 Squadron. Sukthankar was commissioned as an officer, and on 14 September 1943, received the DFC. Squadron Leader Sukthankar eventually completed 45 operations, 14 of them on board the RAF Museum’s Avro Lancaster R5868. Another volunteer was Assistant Section Officer Noor Inayat Khan, a Muslim pacifist and Indian nationalist who joined the WAAF, in November 1940, to fight against Nazism. Noor Khan served bravely as a secret agent with the Special Operations Executive (SOE) in France, but was eventually betrayed and captured. Executed at Dachau concentration camp on 13 September 1944, Noor Inayat Khan was posthumously awarded the George Cross in 1949, for her outstanding, and sustained, moral and physical courage.

In December 1941, the war in the Pacific broke out, and the British, American and Dutch possessions in South East Asia were swiftly overrun by the Japanese army. India and Australia were also vulnerable to invasion. No. 1 Squadron IAF was sent to fly tactical reconnaissance operations from Toungoo in Burma (Myanmar) on 1 February 1942. The airfield was promptly attacked by Japanese bombers, but the Squadron’s Lysander army co-operation aircraft had been intelligently dispersed and there were no losses. Squadron Leader Karun Krishna Majumdar decided to retaliate next day, ordering his men to attach two 250 lb (113 kg) bombs to his aircraft before single-handedly attacking the Japanese air base in Thailand. ‘Jumbo’ Majumdar destroyed a hangar and the aircraft inside it, and on 3 February, he led the Squadron’s 12 Lysanders on a second successful raid on the Japanese base. Majumdar was later awarded the DFC and became the first Indian promoted to wing commander. He would go on to fly photographic reconnaissance missions with the RAF in Europe in the summer of 1944, winning a bar to his DFC. An inspirational leader and a superb pilot, Wing Commander Majumdar would lose his life in a flying accident near Lahore on 17 February 1945.

The Japanese offensive in Burma proved relentless, and after its brave rear-guard action, No. 1 Squadron was withdrawn to India. On the way, Flying Officer Haider Raza became separated from the unit, but fought on alone, bombing and machine-gunning the Japanese invaders for two weeks. At one point he signalled headquarters, saying:
‘This one-man guerrilla war is great fun, but I only have one shirt and one pair of shorts and that isn’t enough for two weeks in the jungle.’

Realising that Raza had been temporarily forgotten, his superiors ordered him to fly back to India, where the young pilot was mentioned in despatches. Raza was a Muslim, and after partition, in August 1947, he would become a founder member of the Pakistan Air Force, rising to the rank of air vice-marshal.

Lieutenant Errol Sen, who had flown with the RFC during the First World War, was in Burma at the time of the Japanese invasion. Unable to find transport out of the country, the veteran pilot decided to walk back to India and was never seen again.

In India, No. 1 Squadron began converting to the rugged and reliable Hawker Hurricane in June 1942; and over the next twelve months Nos. 2, 4 and 6 Squadrons were formed and also equipped with the type. Two more units, Nos. 7 and 8 Squadrons, were raised in 1943 and given American Vultee Vengeance dive bombers. Between March and December 1942, 10 new flying schools were established in the subcontinent and the first North American Harvard trainers appeared. The IAF kept a watchful eye on the North-West Frontier, and the skills it honed against the tribesmen were soon being used by its squadrons against the Japanese.

The IAF in Burma operated in the tactical role, conducting reconnaissance, ground-attack and army co-operation missions in support of 14th Army from September 1943. IAF squadrons fought alongside the RAF throughout the campaign, and a typical Indian unit might include Hindus, Sikhs, Muslims and Christians as well as seconded British airmen. They worked well together, and an official publication described the Indian pilots as:
‘a curiously interesting body of men — boyish, high-spirited and sometimes bohemian in appearance, yet as fighters, they are resourceful, courageous and in deadly earnest about the job in hand.’

The Indian Hurricane squadrons performed particularly well on the Arakan front in 1944, flying low over the jungle to surprise the enemy and obtain accurate information. They continued to act as ‘the Eyes of the Army’ even during the treacherous monsoon storms that lasted from May to October. Mahinder Singh Pujji, now commanding No. 4 Squadron, was awarded the DFC in April 1945 for providing invaluable details of enemy troop movements throughout the previous year’s rainy season.

Although the Hurricane pilots were instructed to avoid air combat and focus on their vital reconnaissance duties, Flying Officer Jagdish Chandra Verma of No. 6 Squadron shot down a Japanese Nakajima ‘Oscar’ fighter on 15 February 1944. Verma was the only IAF pilot to claim an air-to-air victory in Burma and, as the Hurricane was markedly inferior to the Oscar, he was immediately awarded the DFC.

Working in appalling conditions, and under constant threat of attack by Japanese troops, Indian ground crews in Burma managed to keep the IAF’s aircraft flying. Furthermore, their efficiency, skill and capacity for hard work made for exceptionally high rates of serviceability. Throughout the Burma campaign Indian airmen became known for their courage and professionalism both in the air and on the ground; and in recognition, the Indian Air Force was granted the prefix ‘Royal’ on 12 March 1945.

By VJ Day, the RIAF was 25,000 strong and was based around nine highly efficient squadrons of Hurricanes and Spitfires. During the war, its pilots flew over 16,000 sorties spread over 24,000 operational flying hours. In addition to decorations awarded to Indians serving with the RAF overseas, RIAF personnel received one Distinguished Service Order (DSO), 22 DFCs and one Bar, two Air Force Crosses (AFCs), 45 Mentions in Despatches and numerous other distinctions. Sadly, a total of 688 airmen were killed in combat or in accidents, 231 died in the field and 367 were wounded.

Between 1939 and 1945, the Indian Armed Forces attracted 2.5 million men and women, and this is comfortably the largest all-volunteer force in history.

With partition in August 1947, the assets of the Royal Indian Air Force were divided between the new states of India and Pakistan on a basis of 7:3, leaving Pakistan with two fighter squadrons and a transport unit. The Royal Air Force Museum displays a Hawker Tempest II and a Consolidated B24 Liberator at its London site, both of which were flown by the RIAF in the post-war years.

Further Reading

‘IAF over Burma’, Indian Air Force (Inter-services Public Relations Directorate, New Delhi, circa 1943)

‘The story of the Pakistan Air Force: A Saga of Courage and Honour’ (Shaheen Foundation, 1988)

‘The Eagle Strikes: The Royal Indian Air Force, 1932-1950’, Rana T.S. Chhina (Ambi, 2006)

15 August 2020
The RAF in Russia

The aftermath of the First World War

The First World War is remembered as one long struggle of trench warfare, mainly in Flanders Fields. Through the memorable story of Lawrence of Arabia, the desert war against the Ottoman Turks is also known. Much less known are those gruesome battles in the Balkans and the Alps, the guerrilla warfare in German East Africa, the naval encounters in the Pacific Ocean, but also the massive battles fought on the Eastern front against the armies of the Russian Tsar.

Due to several defeats and a communist rebellion at home, the latter was forced to sign a peace treaty with the Central Powers. Shortly after, he was ousted from power by the communists and his country descended into the maelstrom of civil war.

The victorious Allied governments opposed the communist ‘Reds’ take-over of Russia and feared it would lead to a Marxist revolution at home. Therefore, they decided to support the ‘Whites’ as the Russian government troops were known.

In the north, enormous stocks of arms and munitions had been sent to the tsarist troops to be used in their fight against Germany. An Allied naval force was sent to this area to keep these out of the hands of the victorious Germans and later the Communists. For similar reasons, some Allied forces took over Vladivostok, a major port in the Far East of the country, not far from Japan. In the Caucasus in the South, the German-Russian treaty dictated this area was to be handed over to the Ottoman Turks, who were allied to the Germans. British forces were sent to Baku in Azerbaijan to deny such a move.

After the defeat of the Central Powers, the British forces remained in the area to support the Government forces against the new threat of the Reds.

The Royal Air Force in the North

The expedition in the north of Russia was mainly focused on the important ports of Murmansk and Arkhangelsk. Although this was mainly a naval and army operation, the Royal Air Force as well as the remains of the Tsarist Russian Air Force were called upon to assist the operations on the ground.

The Russian aircraft were old and worn, while the RAF used aircraft which had until that point been used in France, such as the RE.8, an example of which can be seen in Hangar 2 at the RAF Museum in London.

Different kind of missions were flown, such as reconnaissance, bombing and propaganda leaflet dropping. The latter turned out to be dangerous for an observer with the name of FJ Shrive. A big bunch of leaflets got caught in the rudder wires causing the rudder to jam. Shrive crawled down the wooden and canvas covered fuselage to pull out the bits of paper with a constant risk of falling through the bottom.

One of the greatest dangers for aircrew were forced landings as the area was densely wooded and inhospitable. The chances of being rescued were slim. As winter set in, the weather conditions reduced the number of missions. Luckily for the RAF personnel, one RE.8 was kept operational to transport mail, at a time when air mail was quite a new concept.

A different formation was the RAF River Force, equipped with seaplanes, such as the Fairey IIIC, as well as observation balloons. The Fairey III proved to be a reliable design with improved versions staying into service until the late 1930s. The RAF River Force relied on river barges with supplies coming from the seaplane carrier HMS Pegasus. As with the landplanes, the seaplanes flew reconnaissance and bombing sorties, often attacking enemy gun boats and river craft.

The Northern expedition came to an end in late 1919, but few people would have imagined the RAF returning twenty-two years later, this time to aid the Reds.

In 1941, the Royal Air Force sent a fighter wing (Force Benedict) to assist the Soviet Air Force against the German and Finnish Air Forces, threatening the Allied supplies to Murmansk. The British were to deliver Hawker Hurricane fighter aircraft, an example of which can be seen in RAF Museum’s Battle of Britain exhibition in Hangar 5 (London), and to train Soviet pilots and ground crew in operating and maintaining them.

The Royal Air Force in the South

The mainly Cossack Army was pushing back the Red Army in the South, while the British Navy attempted to neutralise the Communist controlled naval fleet. To support these actions, in January 1919, No. 221 Squadron was shipped across the Black Sea to Batum harbour and from there moved to their base in Petrovsk on the Caspian Sea.

This squadron was equipped with Airco DH9s which were powered by liquid-cooled engines. The freezing temperatures meant that the engines were almost impossible to start. Gradually, hangars and living quarters were built, which improved the serviceability of the aircraft. However, conditions remained grim and the moral and the health of RAF personnel was poor.

The low moral should be no surprise as most of the men had signed up for the duration of the War, but several months after the Armistice, were risking their lives in a far-away place fighting a war for reasons they did not understand.

In February 1919, No. 266 Squadron was moved to Petrovsk, equipped with Short 184 seaplanes. Poor weather was limiting the operations of the squadrons, but as weather improved the RAF became heavily involved with scouting the Red ships, reconnoitring and attacking the enemy troops on the ground.

Most of the fighting centred around the important city of Astrakhan, near the estuary of the Volga River. Several boats were attacked near its port. Some aircraft were damaged by ground fire, but more losses were incurred due to accidents, sometimes with fatal consequences.
For example, on 15 May 1919, one DH9 crash landed and went up in flames, killing its crew. In June 1919, the famous Canadian Ace Major Collishaw arrived to take control of a third squadron, No. 47, equipped with DH9s and Sopwith Camels.

The Reds’ air force was very limited in capabilities. They had few fully-trained pilots, their aircraft were well-worn and suffered from a shortage of spare parts. Yet, on 16 June during a major raid on Astrakhan, a DH9A was attacked by a Red fighter aircraft and shot down.

This was even more remarkable as the fighter aircraft was an old French Nieuport 17 which was slower than the DH9A. Instead, the Red pilots carried out a frontal attack, hitting the DH9A in the radiator after which the engine overheated and burned out.

The British crew, lieutenants J Mantle and H Ingram, landed safely but were captured by Red cavalry and sent to Moscow. They were held captive until they were repatriated in 1920.

The Volga river was an important lifeline for the Reds’ forces. Barges were used to transport troops across much of Russia and for this reason, they proved to be valuable targets for the DH9s. However, these vessels were often armed with machine guns.

After bombing and strafing the river traffic, the DH9 of Captain Anderson and his observer Lieutenant Mitchell received machine gunfire, piercing the fuel tank. Mitchell climbed out on the wing, holding on to the struts between the wings with one hand while he blocked the leak with the other. However, they then noticed that another DH9 had been forced to make a crash landing. They decided to try and rescue its crew. Anderson landed his plane nearby, while Mitchell held back the approaching cavalry with machine gunfire.

The other two crew members ran several hundred yards before squeezing into the observer’s cockpit with Mitchell once again hanging on to the wing.

Withdrawal from Russia

The White forces in the Baltics, Ukraine, Far East and the Caucasus were internally divided. In fact, due to their geographic location, they were physically divided by the Reds who controlled the heartland of Russia. As such, it proved impossible to orchestrate a concerted offensive against the Communist forces, despite the support by the Allies.

With the overall collapse of the White Forces, the British were forced to make an honourable withdrawal in 1920. The contribution made by the RAF aircrews was great and disproportionate to their small numbers, but eventually had no impact on the outcome of the war, which was overwhelming in scale.

17 August 2018
A Full Life: Wg Cdr Patrick (Paddy) Barthropp

This portrait of raconteur and bon vivant ‘Paddy’ Barthropp was donated in December 2015, from the estate of his widow, the late Margaret Elisabeth ‘Betty’ Barthropp. Painted in 1965 some years after he had retired from the RAF, it shows him wearing his RAF jacket with decorations.
The son of an amateur steeplechase rider, whose love of riding he inherited, ‘Paddy’ was born during a family visit to Dublin in 1920, was educated in England, and joined the Rover Car Company in Coventry as an Engineering Apprentice. As a candidate for a short service commission he began elementary flying training at White Waltham in November 1938, trailing the local hunt in his Tiger Moth, and finishing his training at Peterborough in July 1939.

On the first day of the War – 3 September 1939 – he went to No. 1 School of Army Co-operation at Old Sarum, Wiltshire, being posted to No. 613 (Army Co-operation) Squadron at RAF Odiham Hants. on 9 October 1939, initially flying the obsolescent Hawker Hind and Hawker Hector biplanes, and later the Westland Lysander (of which there is an example at our London site, and there is a Hind at RAFM Cosford) covering the British Expeditionary Force in France and later coastal patrols and air-sea rescue sorties, and volunteered for RAF Fighter Command in August 1940.

He converted to fly Spitfires at Hawarden, near Chester and joined the Spitfire-equipped No. 602 Squadron at Westhampnett on 8 September 1940. His first day in action was at the climax of the Battle of Britain – 15 September 1940- when he was airborne four times.

Having settled in to his new squadron, he damaged a Ju 88 (Junkers 88) on the 21st September, shared a He 111 (Heinkel He 111) on 27th September near Brighton and shared in the destruction of a Ju 88 on 2 October.

Having been posted to No. 610 Squadron in December 1940 and to 91 Squadron at RAF Hawkinge, Kent in February 1941, he achieved more success, again flying Spitfires over the Channel and northern France. On 27 April 1941 he damaged a Dornier Do 17 and on 4 June probably destroyed a Bf 109 (Messerschmitt Bf 109), and on 17 August shot down one Bf 109 and damaged another. He re-joined No. 610 Squadron as ‘B’ Flight Commander on 24 August 1941, and was awarded his DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) on 26 September 1941, having flown 150 operations.

After ‘resting’ as a flying instructor in Shropshire from October 1941 whilst as ever enjoying fast cars and lively female company and always pushing against ‘stuffed shirt’ authority, he returned to operations with No. 122 Squadron at Hornchurch on 15 May 1942, and two days later, whilst escorting six Douglas Boston light bombers attacking a factory, his controls were wrecked by cannon fire from a Fw 190 (Focke-Wulf Fw 190) near St. Omer, forcing him to bale out, and he was captured upon landing, meeting the pilot who had shot him down that evening.

Despite attempting to escape within days of arriving at Stalag Luft III at Sagan and spending 100 days in solitary confinement over 18 months for various misdemeanours and later helping to dig an escape tunnel from a camp for the more troublesome RAF PoWs (Prisoners of War) in Poland only to be recaptured by the Gestapo after some time on the run in Poland he remained a Prisoner of War until 2 May 1945. In January 1945 he and thousands of other prisoners had endured the ‘Long March’ westwards ahead of advancing Soviet forces. He and a colleague acquired a Mercedes fire engine and drove it to Brussels via Hamburg!

He was initially sent to Norway to locate the graves of shot-down airmen and confirm their identities, receiving the Order of King Haakon in addition to the Cross of Lorraine previously received from the French Government. Choosing to stay in the post-war RAF on a permanent commission, he did a course at the Empire Test Pilots’ School at Cranfield and served at the Aeroplane and Armament Experimental Establishment at Boscombe Down, moving to HQ (Head Quarters) Fighter Command at Bentley Priory in 1948 after a period in Khartoum for hot weather trials of the Gloster Meteor jet fighter.

In March 1952 he went to RAF Waterbeach as Wing Commander Flying, again flying Meteors (for which work he received the Air Force Cross in 1954, having led a formation of 288 Meteors at her Coronation in 1953), and to an admin post at Air Headquarters Hong Kong in 1954. There he delegated most of his duties to a junior officer and a Corporal, leaving time to take up horse racing, becoming a successful jockey.

Returning as Station Commander RAF Honiley, home to two Meteor squadrons, and in March 1957 to RAF Coltishall as Wing Commander i/c Admin. Finding Administration dreary, he accepted release under a ‘golden bowler’ scheme, and retired from the RAF in December 1957 and started a successful chauffeur-driven Rolls Royce car hire business in London. One of his cars featured in the Bond film Casino Royale.

Twice married and a great supporter of the Battle of Britain Fighter Association and campaigner for back-pay owed to former PoWs, he died on 16 April 2008, aged 87.

Happily Paddy left us his highly entertaining autobiography, ‘Paddy The Life And Times of Wing Commander Patrick Barthropp D.F.C., A.F.C., R.A.F. Ret’d’, originally published in 1987. A copy is held by the RAF Museum Library.

26 January 2016
The Indestructible Alkemade

The Museum was recently contacted to see if we could substantiate whether an RAF airman had survived falling from his aircraft without a parachute by landing in snow. “That sounds unlikely”, I thought, like an urban legend. It couldn’t really have happened, could it? As it transpired, the airman in question had in fact been lucky enough to have the use of his parachute, but my research did lead me to the amazing tale of Flight Sergeant Nicholas Alkemade…

Nicholas Stephen Alkemade was born on 10 December 1922 in North Walsham, Norfolk and was a market gardener in Loughborough before the outbreak of war. After training as an Air Gunner, he was posted to No. 115 Squadron as a rear gunner on their Avro Lancasters. After successfully completing 14 operations, Alkemade’s crew were detailed to raid Berlin on the night of 24/25 March 1944. One of 811 aircraft destined to attack the German capital, Alkemade’s aircraft, DS664, a Lancaster Mk II coded A4-K and christened Werewolf by its crew, took off from RAF Witchford, Cambridgeshire at 18:48 and set course for Berlin.

Werewolf carried her seven crew members to Berlin on time and as planned, but the return journey was to be a different story. An unusually strong north wind blew many of the returning aircraft far to the south of their intended track and Werewolf was pushed towards the Ruhr with its heavy concentration of anti-aircraft defences.

Shortly before midnight on 24 March, a Junkers Ju 88 night-fighter flown by Oberleutnant Heinz Rökker of Nachtjagdgeschwader 2, intercepted Werewolf and attacked from beneath with cannon and machine-guns. Werewolf’s starboard wing and fuselage were shredded and erupted into flames which streamed back beyond Alkemade’s rear turret, the Perspex glazing from which had also been completely blown out, exposing him to the frigid night air. The fight was not totally one-sided, Alkemade managing to get off a burst at the enemy with his four machine-guns, though reports of damage to Werewolf’s sailant proved wide of the mark.

The brief combat had mortally wounded Werewolf, and before long FS James Arthur Newman, Werewolf’s pilot, ordered the crew to take to their parachutes. A Lancaster’s rear turret was too cramped for the gunner to wear a parachute. Instead it was stored in a canister in the rear fuselage, to be clipped-on to a chest harness when needed.

Centring his turret and opening the doors, Alkemade was greeted by a vision of hell. His parachute was already well alight and the fierce flames seared his exposed face and wrists. His rubber oxygen mask, clamped tight over his mouth and nose began to melt.

The immense heat forced Alkemade to close the turret doors again. He was trapped. Falling through the sky in a burning and abandoned aircraft. 3.5 miles above enemy territory. And it was about to get worse. The conflagration devouring the aircraft now breached the rear doors and set the turret’s hydraulic fluid alight. The liquid-fuelled flames spread to Alkemade’s clothing. What could have been going through his mind? I’ll let him tell you:

‘I had the choice of staying with the aircraft or jumping out. If I stayed I would be burned to death – my clothes were already well alight and my face and hands burnt, though at the time I scarcely noticed the pain owing to my high state of excitement…I decided to jump and end it all as quick and clean as I could. I rotated the turret to starboard, and, not even bothering to take off my helmet and intercom, did a back flip out into the night. It was very quiet, the only sound being the drumming of aircraft engines in the distance, and no sensation of falling at all. I felt suspended in space. Regrets at not getting home were my chief thoughts, and I did think once that it didn’t seem very strange to be going to die in a few seconds – none of the parade of my past or anything else like that.’

Falling head-first, looking back towards the stars twinkling in the night sky, FS Alkemade, serenity itself, hurtled towards the ground at 120 mph. At some point in the descent, Alkemade lost consciousness, possibly his body’s reaction to the pain where the flames had licked around his skin. Above him, Werewolf exploded.

Three hours later, Alkemade opened his eyes. He was lying on snowy ground in a small pine wood. Above him the stars were still visible, only this time they were framed by the edges of the hole he had smashed through the tree canopy. Assessing himself, Alkemade found that he was remarkably intact. In addition to the burns and cuts to the head and thigh, all received in the aircraft, he was suffering only bruising and a twisted knee. Not a single bone had been broken or even fractured. Both of his flying boots had disappeared, probably torn from his feet as he unconsciously struck the tree branches. Being of no further use, Alkemade discarded his parachute harness in the snow.

Lighting a cigarette from the pack kept in his Irvin suit, Alkemade surveyed his landing zone. The snow was but 18 inches deep and had been sheltered from the sun by the pine trees. Just 20 yards away was open ground completely devoid of snow. If he had come down there, nothing would have saved him. As it was, the flexible branches of the young pines had slowed Alkemade’s descent, just enough for the mattress of snow to cushion him as he reached the ground.

Unable to walk and freezing cold, Alkemade blew his distress whistle to attract attention. A band of German civilians, possibly Home Guardsmen, carried him to a local infirmary which sent him to the better facilities of Meschede hospital. His burns were tended and a quantity of Perspex and wooden splinters were removed from his body.

The next day, Alkemade was interrogated, the Gestapo demanding to know what had happened to his parachute. When he told them he hadn’t used one, the interrogators laughed at Alkemade and accused him of being a spy and burying it. Indignantly Alkemade challenged the Gestapo to find his discarded harness – the lift webs, which would unclip and extend when the parachute deployed, would still be in the stowed position. A search of the wood soon bore out Alkemade’s story. Further corroboration came from the wreckage of Werewolf which had crashed 20 miles away. The metal ripcord handle and cable of his parachute were still in their stowage container.

Alkemade’s experience made him into a minor celebrity among the Prisoner of War fraternity. After spending three weeks in hospital he was sent to the Dulag Luft prisoner of war transit centre. Here the prisoners were paraded and regaled with the incredible tale of Alkemade’s survival by a Luftwaffe officer. He was even provided with a commemorative certificate stating:

“It has been investigated and corroborated by the German authorities that the claim of Sergeant Alkemade, No. 1431537, is true in all respects, namely, that he has made a descent from 18,000 feet without a parachute and made a safe landing without injuries, the parachute having been on fire in the aircraft. He landed in deep snow among fir trees.

Corroboration witnessed by:

[Signed] Flight Lieut. H.J. Moore (Senior British Officer)
Flight Sergeant R.R. Lamb
Flight Sergeant T.A. Jones
(25/4/44)”

Alkemade was photographed for the German press before being sent to Stalag Luft III in Poland. Here his story earned him extra cigarettes in return for inscribing prisoners’ Wartime Logs. Fellow prisoner Flt Lt Bennett Ley Kenyon also produced a portrait of Alkemade.

Ley Kenyon, Alkemade and the other inmates of Stalag Luft III would all later be among the tens of thousands of Allied Prisoners of War forced to march westward, some pulling possessions on hastily-crafted sledges, through blizzard conditions and on little food, so the Germans could prevent their liberation by the advancing Russians. The “Long March”, as these evacuations are now collectively known, would claim the lives of hundreds of men unable to survive the cold, exhaustion, hunger and tragic incidents of friendly fire by roving Allied aircraft. Somehow Alkemade made it through to be liberated, still the snow watched over him.

But what of the rest of Werewolf’s crew? Alkemade was just one of seven aboard the Lancaster when Rökke struck. As things transpired, he would be one of only three survivors. Sgt John P. Cleary (Navigator) and Sgt Geoffrey R. Burwell (Wireless Operator) both also become prisoners of war after being forcibly ejected from Werewolf by the explosion. Sgt Cleary’s damaged parachute self-deployed during his descent into the same wood as Alkemade and he was knocked unconscious in a collision with a tree trunk. Exposed to the crippling cold, Cleary nearly lost a leg to frostbite as well as enduring a collapsed lung. He spent the next six months in Meschede hospital, before being repatriated as part of an exchange of sick and wounded prisoners in February 1945.

Sadly, the other four crew members of DS664, FS James Arthur Newman (Pilot), Sgt Edgar William John Warren (Flight Engineer), Sgt Charles Alfred Hilder (Bomb Aimer) and Sgt John Joseph McDonough (Mid-Upper Air Gunner), were all killed. They now lie next to each other in Hannover War Cemetery.

After discharge from the RAF in 1946, Alkemade returned to Loughborough, finding work in a chemical plant. Not long after starting his new job, he again cheated death. While removing chlorine gas-generating liquid from a sump, he received a severe electric shock from the equipment he was using. Reeling away, his gas mask became dislodged and he began breathing in the poisonous gas. An agonising 15 minutes were to pass before his appeals for aid were answered and he was dragged to safety, nearly asphyxiated by the fumes.

Not long after, a siphoning pipe burst, spraying Alkemade’s face and arms with industrial sulphuric acid. With astounding presence of mind, he dived head-first into a nearby 40 gallon drum of limewash, thereby neutralising the acid. Alkemade ‘escaped’ with first degree burns. Returning to work, Alkemade was pinned beneath a nine foot long steel door runner that fell from its mountings as he passed by. Somehow only minor bruising resulted.

After this third incident even Alkemade thought that enough was enough, becoming a furniture salesman with Clemersons Limited in Loughborough, where he lived with his wife and children. He passed away, much later than he might otherwise have done, in June 1987.

Further Reading
Into the silk by Ian MacKersey, published by Robert Hale & Company in 1956. FS Alkemade’s story appears on pages 214-219 and a photograph between pages 112 and 113. RAF Museum Object No. 000433.

Wartime Log of Flt Lt Bennett Ley Kenyon. Alkemade recounts his descent on pages 113-115. RAF Museum Object No. X001-2316/009/056.

Spotlight on Stalag Luft III edited by M.S. Winston. FS Alkemade recounts his descent on pages 21-23. RAF Museum Object No. 013498.

Archive collection of material relating to Sgt John P. Cleary’s experience as a Prisoner of war and later return to Germany. RAF Museum Object No. X003-4642

“Fell 3 miles without a ‘chute” article in RAF Flying Review, Volume 9, Number 12, September 1954. RAF Museum Object No. X005-1841.

A scanned version of Alkemade’s Prisoner of War log is available via the Loughborough Echo website.

24 December 2014
Identifying Historic Aircraft Joysticks

The RAF Museum Research Department is regularly contacted by members of the public wishing to know more about historic aircraft components found in attics, recovered from aircraft wreck sites or bought at car boot sales. Where the Museum has similar objects in its own three-dimensional collections it is usually quite easy for us to help.

However, in some cases we have to rely on the information contained in reference books held by our Library to find out what these items are and which aircraft they were fitted to.

For example, over the last few months I have been involved in identifying a number of unusual aircraft control column grips – better known as joysticks – and I am going to review here some of the published sources at our disposal.

We have a large collection of technical publications dating from the First World War to the present day, which include illustrations such as this one showing the control handle of a British fighter from 1918.

This type of joystick was fitted to several types of RAF fighters in service from the end of the First World War and into the 1920s. One of these aircraft was the Sopwith Snipe as can be seen from the illustrated in parts list for the Snipe, as seen below.

Typically, enquirers send us a photograph of an aircraft component together with details of any letters and numbers stamped onto it. If we are given a maker’s part number for an RAF joystick we can sometimes identify it from a copy of the appropriate RAF stores vocabulary list. Our Library is lucky enough to have a few copies of these vocabulary lists for section 27J “Aircraft Gun Firing Buttons and Ring Control Handles”. The sample page seen below shows both the RAF stores numbers and maker’s part numbers for several RAF joysticks from the late 1940s.

However, if we are unable to trace the control column through a part number, we can turn to a very useful series of manuals for individual RAF aircraft types known as Pilot’s Notes. They were published from the early part of WW2 until the 1960s and usually contain very clear black-and-white photographs of the aircraft’s cockpit. A typical example of a Second World War Plot’s Notes photograph showing the cockpit of a Saro Lerwick flying boat with the control column clearly visible can be seen below.

As well as the Pilot’s Notes, the parts lists for aircraft can also be useful. These identify parts of an individual aircraft type by number and in some cases they also include illustrations. This is a good example of an illustration from the Schedule of Spare Parts for the Hawker Typhoon.

In our collection of manufacturers’ publications we hold two very nice examples of catalogues published in the 1950s by the Aviation Division of the Dunlop Rubber Company Limited showing the wide range of their products, which included firing control handles fitted to control columns. The detailed photographs in these catalogues are much clearer than those in the Pilot’s Notes and used in conjunction with other sources they can be of great help.

The number of well-illustrated commercially published books on aircraft cockpits has increased noticeably in recent years and some of the titles held by the Museum’s Library are shown here. They include “Fighting cockpits 1914-2000: Design and development of military aircraft cockpits” and “The Aircraft Cockpit” by L.F.E. Coombs, “Famous Aircraft Cockpits” and “Famous Aircraft Cockpits 2” by Hiroshi Seo,“German Aircraft Interiors 1935-1945” by Kenneth Merrick, “German Aircraft Cockpits 1911-1970” by Peter Cohausz , “Cockpits of the Cold War Cockpits” by Donald Nijboer and Daniel Patterson and “At the controls: The Smithsonian National Air and Space Museum book of cockpits” by Tom Alison and Dana Bell.

As I hope I have been able to demonstrate, the Museum’s Library holds quite a lot of information on joysticks as it does about many other types of RAF aircraft components and equipment and by using the various sources at our disposal we are often able to identify an item and link it to the type of aircraft it is associated with.

29 May 2014