Flying Officer Donald Garland VC was one of 4 brothers who lost their lives serving the RAF during WW2.  He was born to Patrick and Winifred in Ballinacor, County Wicklow, Ireland in 1918, the youngest of 5 children.  His siblings were Patrick (1908 -1945), John (1910 -1943), Sheila (1912 -1988) and Desmond (1916 – 1942).

He was a Pilot flying Fairey Battles with 12 Squadron .  On the 12th May 1940 he was on a daytime operation to take out a bridge over the Albert Canal, in Belgium.  The mission was extremely risky and the Squadron lost all but one of the 5 Fairey Battles taking part.  His aircraft was shot down close to the target which was heavily defended both with Anti Aircraft Guns and German Fighter planes.  He was only 21 when he was killed.  He and his Observer, Sgt Thomas Gray, were posthumously awarded the Victoria Cross for their bravery.  Please see the citation below.

Donald was originally buried in secret by local civilians and was then re-interred by the Allies in 1945 and is now buried in Heverlee War Cemetery, near Lovain, Belgium.

Link to the IBCC Losses database entry for Donald Garland

VC Citation for Donald (London Gazette 11th June 1940):

“Flying Officer Garland was the pilot and Sergeant Gray was the observer of the leading aircraft of a formation of five aircraft that attacked a bridge over the Albert Canal which had not been destroyed and was allowing the enemy to advance into Belgium. All the aircrews of the squadron concerned volunteered for the operation, and, after five crews had been selected by drawing lots, the attack was delivered at low altitude against this vital target. Orders were issued that this bridge was to be destroyed at all costs. As had been expected, exceptionally intense machine-gun and anti-aircraft fire were encountered. Moreover, the bridge area was heavily protected by enemy fighters.

In spite of this, the formation successfully delivered a dive-bombing attack from the lowest practicable altitude. British fighters in the vicinity reported that the target was obscured by the bombs bursting on it and near it. Only one of the five aircraft concerned returned from this mission. The pilot of this aircraft reports that besides being subjected to extremely heavy anti-aircraft fire, through which they dived to attack the objective, our aircraft were also attacked by a large number of enemy fighters after they had released their bombs on the target. Much of the success of this vital operation must be attributed to the formation leader, Flying Officer Garland, and to the coolness and resource of Sergeant Gray, who in most difficult conditions navigated Flying Officer Garland’s aircraft in such a manner that the whole formation was able successfully to attack the target in spite of subsequent heavy losses. Flying Officer Garland and Sergeant Gray did not return.”

Link to the IBCC Losses Database for Desmond Garland

Desmond was a Pilot serving with 50 Squadron, flying the Avro Manchester.  On the 15th June 1942, his crew took off from RAF Skellingthorpe on a nighttime mine-laying mission in the Gorse Region.  The aircraft never returned and only one member of the crew survived.  He became a POW and later told that the aircraft had been shot down and crashed into the sea just off the French coast.  He was 27 when he died.

John Garland served in the RAFVR was killed on the 28th February 1942.  He was 32 when he died.  He is buried in Midhurst Cemetery in Sussex.  It is thought that he was a Medical Officer

Patrick Garland served as a Pilot in 2 Squadron Tactical Reconnaissance Unit and was flying a Spitfire XIV on an operation to Gilze-Reijen.  His aircraft bounced on landing, stalled and crashed upside down.  He died on the 1st January 1945, aged 36.  He is buried in Bergen-op-Zoom War Cemetery

Article covering the Patrick’s death

More stories like this can be found on our Blog Space.

During WW2, very few Bomber pilots flew 60 missions back to back.

One such pilot was Flying Officer Leslie Valentine CdeG. Whose story is quite inspirational.

At the start of the hostilities in 1939, he was called up for military service and joined the Highland Light Infantry as an infantryman.  In the ensuing months he was landed in France as a combatant shortly after the Dunkirk Evacuation. His time in France was short lived, and he returned to home shores some 10 weeks later.

A notice was posted on the Battalion notice board asking for volunteers for aircrew, as there was a shortage of pilots and navigators in the RAF.

                                 F/O Leslie Valentine CdeG

 

Valentine, being a mathematician readily volunteered. Only two were accepted, one a 2^nd Lieutenant and Pvt Valentine. Unfortunately the 2^nd Lieutenant broke his arm and so Valentine went alone through the selection process and was duly installed as a student Pilot in the RAF.

His initial pilot training took place in England, where he was to be introduced to flying in a Tiger Moth. This phase of his training completed, he was shipped off to Canada, to undergo Twin Engine training at Medicine Hat in Alberta, Canada, where he gained his “wings” and the coveted brevet of a fully fledged pilot.

Training completed, the newly qualified bomber pilot was shipped back for active service training to 13 Operational Training Unit in RAF Bicester in Oxfordshire. Training firstly on the Bristol Blenheim, and then over to RAF Finmere 2 miles away to complete operational training on the aircraft that was to be his ‘Partner’ for  the next 18 months of conflict. This was the Douglas Boston IIIA, a tricycle under-carriaged light bomber that was both fast and manoeuvrable.

The squadron Valentine was posted to was No.88 Sqn, 2^nd Tactical Air Force, Bomber Command. The operations for this squadron were conducted mainly in daylight and in close formation, against targets, where disruption of supply lines was paramount in the halting of enemy reinforcements, road bridges, rail marshalling yards, road transport convoys, submarine pens and V1 rocket launching sites.

Such was the abilities of the Boston that it was the operational choice to undertake the hazardous task of laying smoke over the beaches, to protect the invading UK forces on D Day 6^th June 1944.

Entrusted with this, the RAFs most critical role on D-Day, Valentine took his 88 Squadron Boston ‘E-Easy’ down to 50 feet above the D-Day beaches, laying smoke to protect the invasion forces from enemy fire. Above and over his aircraft arched the trajectories of shells from the 14” guns of the capital ships of the Royal Navy 8 miles off shore, and the German 88 heavy guns firing back from just inside enemy lines.  Not only was there the chance of being hit by those shells, but, as the UK forces on the ground were unsure who the aircraft flying so low above them were, they also let fly with small arms fire

                     Boston IIIA E-Easy

Two aircraft were lost on this mission, but Valentine returned safely, (if somewhat shaken) to 88 squadron’s base at RAF Hartford Bridge.

Before and after D-Day Valentine flew many sorties against tactical targets by both night and day. He flew two tours back to back, (60 operations in all), in the first tour 36 operations and in the second tour 24 operations with only a 4 week leave between tours. A feat accomplished by only a select few pilots in Bomber Command.  He was awarded the Criox de Guerre with Silver Star by the French for his efforts in the battles for their liberation.

In 2013 he was one of the guests of honour at the launch of the International Bomber Command Centre which was held at the Lincolnshire Aviation Heritage Centre, East Kirkby, Lincolnshire.

Unfortunately he passed away in April 2014, at 94 years of age. He had been living in Hethe, Oxfordshire, which is only 4 miles from where he was trained in 1943 at RAF Bicester and RAF Finmere.

Last November, accompanied by his son, he visited the Bomber Command Memorial in London and on his visit was afforded the unique opportunity of being hosted at 10 Downing Street, where Prime Minister David Cameron spent some time with Flying Officer Leslie Valentine and presented him with the WW2 Defence Medal, which he had never received at the time of issue.

His son Sqn Ldr Dudley Valentine has granted permission for Lesley’s log book and personal papers to be included in the International Bomber Command Centre Digital Archive to ensure that his story can help educate people for generations to come.

PM David Cameron presents Flying Officer Valentine ensure that his story can help educate people for generations with the WW2 Defence Medal.

There are not many of our WW2 Bomber Command heroes still with us, and at this time, we should set aside a thought in our hearts for those brave aviators who gave their lives for our freedom, and we should give those still with us, our very best regards.

Sqn Ldr JAN BLAZEJEWSKI    P.0004 POLISH AIR FORCE

Sqn Ldr Jan Blazejewski  was born 4^th February 1904 at Winnica, Polode.  He attended the Aviation Cadet School at Deblin where he trained as a pilot, graduating on 15th August 1933. He was assigned to 6th Air Regiment as an observer and completed his training by 1934 at Pilot school at Sadkow.

When the Germans Invaded Poland, Jan escaped via Romania to France and then onto England, where he joined 304 (Silesian) Squadron. He had the rank of Kaptain in the Polish Air Force, and by the time of his death had been awarded the DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) for courage and exemplary leadership during 20 bombing operations over France, Germany and occupied Europe – a total of 120 hours.  He was also awarded the Polish medals, VM 5^th Class and Four Times FW.

On 16^th December 1941, Wellington R1064 took off from RAF Lindholme to the docks at Oostende at 16.57. A distress call was heard at 19.05 close to Manston, and then nothing. The aircraft was seen to plunge into the sea believed to have fallen victim to a night-fighter.

 CREW OF WELLINGTON R1064-NZ: click on the names to see their entry in our Losses Database

Sgt Boguslaw Golabek                                                  P79367                  Air Gunner                          Panel 40

F/O Jan Komlacz                                                             P.0301                   Observer                             Panel 60

Sgt Hubert Rutkowski                                                    P.781201              Air Gunner                          Panel 93

Sgt Kazimierz Suwalski                                                   P.780356              Air Gunner                          Panel 103

F/O Marian Szczodrowski                                               P.76740                Pilot                                     Panel 104

Jan is buried in Dunkirk Town Cemetery, France; Plot 11, Row 3, Grave 2.  

Photo courtesy of Polish War Graves

There are more stories about those who suffered and served with Bomber Command on the IBCC Blog Space

Sqn Ldr HAROLD LESTER LINDO J/4762 RCAF DFC

Heralding from Sligoville, Jamaica, Harold Lindo enlisted on 20th June 1940 in Ottawa, Canada and began his training as an Observer/Navigator. He graduated on 15th August 1940 and by March 1941 he was in England. He was noted for his talent, his coolness under pressure and was well-respected within the crews.

His aircraft had gone down twice previously; once crashing into the sea and the second hitting high-tension wires. Nothing fazed him, and he remained enthusiastic.  In January 1942, he was promoted to Flight Lt and later that year was awarded a DFC with his investment on 4th December 1942.  He had returned to 103 Squadron as Bombing Leader and by January 1944, he had been promoted to Squadron Leader.

On 15th February 1944,  891 aircraft headed for Berlin; the largest force sent to the German capital. 17 aircraft came from 103 Squadron, RAF Elsham Wolds.  They flew at 22-24000 feet following route marking and target indicators.  Berlin was heavily bombed and suffered extensive damaged. It was believed that this raid was the end of the ‘Battle of Berlin’. Despite being told to not make contact over the capital, German fighters engaged the bombers.  Lancaster ND363 was shot down on it’s return by a night-fighter and crashed into the sea near Texel, Holland.  All the crew were killed.

CREW OF LANCASTER ND363 PM-A: – click on the names to see their entry in our Losses database

F/O Kenneth Atkins                                          144756                                  Air Bomber                         Panel 4

F/L Kenneth Berry (DFM)                                140907                                  Pilot                                       Panel 9

W/O William Mitton                                         1053665                                Wireless Operator           Panel 75

F/S James Peacock                                            1318159                                Air Gunner                          Panel 83

F/O Jack Southey                                               160096                                  Air Gunner                          Panel 100

F/O Kenneth Wilcock                                          52813                                    Flight Engineer                  Panel 115

Harold was born 6th July 1917, Kingston, Jamaica; the son of Harold Vincent and Jennie Rosalie Lindo. He is remembered at the Runnymede memorial on panel 244, and on IBCC panel 63.

Photo courtesy of https://www.northlincsweb.net/103Sqn/html/ken_berry_and_crew_103_sqn.html

Find out more about Bomber Command veterans and their stories here

The Secret Memoir

Like many boys growing up in the 50s and 60s, I knew that my Father had served in the armed forces in WWII. When I asked him what he had done, he modestly told me that he had flown on Stirlings and Lancasters with Bomber Command. He would only talk of the light-hearted times, and refused to talk about Op’s etc.

When I was about 7 I found his RAF officers uniform in my parents bedroom, and also a beautiful medal in it’s presentation box (along with a typed note from Buckingham palace “signed” by someone called George R).

Dad wouldn’t talk about the medal, but he told me it was a Distinguished Flying Cross, and George R was King George VI.

Dad remained silent about his war years and died on 4^th January 2004, aged 82.

The following day, whilst going through his personal papers, which he kept in an old wartime suitcase, I came across a small notebook which would unlock his wartime story.

It would seem that he wrote a secret memoir some fifty years after the War, late at night when he was alone. In it, he doesn’t explain what prompted him to put pen to paper. Was it to exorcise his demons, or did he mean me to find it and read the things he couldn’t bring himself to tell me? I will never know.

It was very difficult reading the memories of my wonderful, modest, loving Father so soon after his death; but I couldn’t put the book down.

It told how he had watched in horror as his home city of Birmingham was bombed, and his desperate frustration of being too young to “join up”

When old enough he joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve and was selected for Flight Engineer Training.

He joined his crew on 622 Squadron in early summer 1943. They carried out 11 Op’s (crashing on return from a Berlin trip) before being selected for Pathfinder training, and subsequently joining 7 Squadron PFF.

In all, the crew completed 64 Op’s together (5 as Master Bomber) before being declared “Op’s expired” and going their separate ways in September 1944.

I learned that Dad had suffered terrible air sickness for his first 300 flying hours, but persevered. The Ground Crew gave him an empty biscuit tin so he wouldn’t make a mess of their aircraft.

His memoir was liberally peppered with many, many sad stories, and the names of his young friends and colleagues who had perished in the skies over war torn Europe. There were also recollections of terrible things he had witnessed and could never erase from his mind. He was, however, very proud to have served with Bomber Command, and especially of being a Pathfinder.

I spent five years researching my Dad’s crew (known as “The Lucky Crew” whilst serving with 7 Squadron at RAF Oakington) and was pleased to discover they all survived the war and returned to a normal life in England, Australia, and New Zealand.

My Father’s secret memoir is one of the reasons why I became a volunteer with the IBCC, and subsequently joined the staff. It’s a great honour and privilege to preserve the memories of those who had to endure the bombing war on all sides of the conflict, and to share their stories with the world.

 

 

An excerpt from the original memoir

Tom Jones DFC. 19th April 1921 – 4th January 2004

 

To read Tom’s log book please click here

RAF Swinderby Fuzing Point Shed

Across the country bit by bit most of our Bomber Command airfields are disappearing, but thanks to the work of the various Heritage Centres and Museums up and down the country some parts are being preserved for future generations some Airfields have all but gone completely now, only small pockets of their previous use remain.

One such pocket was discovered at the now disused RAF Swinderby, the owners of the land had no idea of the history of it when it was bought as Industrial Land to set up a factory. Indeed the site seemed well away from any remaining sections of the airfield.   The whole site had been cleared when the owners went to view it, the surface scraped and piled on the very far boundary which was covered in brambles and rubble, so no one thought to look beyond the pile of debris, until one lunchtime some bored employees decided to clear a path through and explore…to their surprise they found part of a very derelict building, obviously someone had previously tried to destroy it as most of the supporting struts had been cut through and removed. Just enough was left to photograph and record for the archives, and with the help of the Airfield Research Group it was identified as the RAF Swinderby Fuzing Point Shed, (Part of a Type C bomb store from the original 1940 layout).

Introduction

To commemorate the site’s earlier history Di Ablewhite, Alan Morris and Celia Morris started to investigate what remains of one of the Fuzing Point sheds which was part of RAF Swinderby’s Bomb Store. They are recording as much as they can before it disappears altogether. Working with advice from the Airfield Research Group, and particularly with the help of Peter Hamlin, the following information has been obtained for archive.

Location – SK 89641, 62658

Rough plan to give an idea of approximate location (not to scale)

Dimensions of Swinderby Fuzing Point Shed

         Length – 66ft                             Width – 16ft                          Head Height  – 7’ 9”

Manufacturer – Dorman Long & Co. Middlesbrough, England

 

Photo showing inside of a similar Fuzing Point Shed 

Similar view into the remains of the Swinderby Fuzing Point Shed

The following information and descriptions have come from Peter Hamlin who was an RAF Armament Fitter albeit post-war (1956 – 1970). He worked in bomb stores amongst other tasks so ‘missile preparation’ including bomb fuzing was part of his job.

Practically all structures on a military airfield in the British Isles were prescribed by an Air Ministry drawing with a unique number. For example, the ‘Bomb Store 50 ton Type C’ on this site was AM Drawing No 5416/40 and the Fuzing Point shed was (probably) 15963/40 Fuzing Point Heavy or 15964 Fuzing Point Light. The difference was in the internal shelves, racks and drawers to suit components for ‘light’ or ‘heavy’ bombs. The standard Nissen came in 16 feet width and 24 feet width, the length being in multiples of 6 feet, usually six sections, so 36 feet long. Fuzing Points were usually 60 feet long to take a train of trolleys. (Swinderby’s is 66 feet long.)

The frame consists of Tee section steel curved ribs with timber purlins. Internal and external sheeting was galvanised corrugated steel (better known as corrugated iron) laid horizontally. The end walls could be timber framing, timber clad or half brick. FP sheds were half brick with double width timber doors in timber frames at both ends, to enable bomb trains to be towed through. (Swinderby’s appears to be corrugated iron on a wooden frame.)

Photo showing exterior of southern end door with original camouflage paint

The earth traverses were to protect external structures and stores in the event of an accidental detonation. Technically they are known as ‘interceptor traverses’ because they are intended to catch and retain fragments of bomb casing. Surprisingly, a high explosive bomb sitting on a stack of similar bombs and detonating accident tally will usually just scatter the other bombs through blast effect. What can and does cause propagation – where other bombs detonate sympathetically – is fragments from the first bomb striking the cases of other bombs with great velocity.

In the early war Bomb Store the Fuzing Point Sheds were set slightly below ground level (as Swinderby’s is) to give extra protection and enable reduced traverse height. Later versions were ground level with higher ETs. But, it all depended on available safety distance. Regulations prescribed minimum safety distances between other buildings in the bomb store and also to the nearest service (RAF) and civilian occupied buildings.

Photo showing the earth traverses at the vandalised North End

Accidents were rare due to safety practices and usually involved faulty bombs or anti-handling bomb pistols during fuzing.

There were three standards of airfield bomb store built by the RAF, the pre-war 1936/37, the 1940 early war version Type C (which this version of Swinderby’s is sited on) and the 1942 version Type D. Swinderby had both. The Type C layout was inefficient when trying to support two or three operational squadrons requiring much double handling of receipts and issues and returns. When the airfield was upgraded to Class A standard with three hard runways, a supplementary Bomb Store to the 1942 standard was built in the south but now obliterated by post-war gravel pits and artificial lakes.

Scores of other airfields that had pre-war or 1940 standard bomb stores were given supplementary 1942 bomb stores. Where possible these were built next to – and connected to – the original bomb store but, where space was unavailable, in a separate location.

The bombs as brought from the store had transit fittings to protect the base and (in some types) provide a parallel rolling surface. The transit fitting were removed with bombs on the trolley.

Next, the bombs were ‘fuzed’ according to instructions from the Operations Room. Each bomb could be ‘fuzed’ in the nose only, tail only or both nose and tail. There was a bewildering array of Pistols and Fuzes to give instantaneous or delay detonation and even long delay. A Pistol was a purely mechanical item with no explosives and had to be used with a separate detonator. A Fuze contained a small amount of explosive and did not require a separate detonator. Fuzes were used mostly for air burst.

After the bombs were ‘fuzed’ the separate Tail Unit was installed and safety wires from the Pistol or Fuze led out through a grommet. The bomb train was then towed to the aircraft on dispersal for the ‘bombing up’ crews to load.

HE Bombs were just part of the load. Incendiary bombs were formed the greater part. Then there were Flares, Mines, Torpedoes, Pyrotechnics, Ammunition for guns. The bomb stores also kept Ground Defence items such as Grenades, Mortar Bombs etc. When a bomb store was to be ‘sited’ the designers took into account the terrain of the area and slotted the structures in locations where they could take advantage of natural screening features. The road had to be kept as level as possible with minimum gradients due to the tractor/trolley load involved. It is likely that Swinderby’s FP became semi-underground because soil was cut away to maintain the road level. (See below)

Photo showing original floor surface

The road systems were almost always single lane and a ONE WAY system enforced. The bends and corners were limited to a minimum radius to allow bomb trains easy passage. A single lane reduced the amount of materials required and speeded up the construction. FPs were usually built on a parallel loop road to allow through traffic to pass.

 Remains of original loop road system

Please respect that this is private land, and no public access is allowed.

 

Vera Atkins

Vera Atkins was the head of the French Section of SOE (Special Operations Executive).

She was born Vera Maria Rosenberg to a Jewish family in Romania in 1908. Upon her father’s death, the family emigrated to London and Vera anglicised her mother’s maiden name and became Atkins. Her pro-British views saw her recruited by British security and she was part of the team that helped evacuate Poland’s Enigma code breakers. She was posted to work in the Netherlands however, when the Nazis invaded, Vera was forced to escape back to England with the help of the Resistance.

Back in England, she became SOE assistant to French Section and served in a civilian capacity until in August 1944.  Vera was commissioned as a Flight Lt in the WAAF, before being made head of the French Section.

This position saw her oversee the recruitment and deployment of agents into France. In a job known as ‘Housekeeping’, she was responsible for 37 female agents.  The agents were trained to use a unique protocol when speaking to London, but signs that the circuits in France had been broken were missed. Vera was believed to have ignored clues that the radios were now in German hands, resulting in 27 agents being arrested and killed.

Perhaps guilt led her to search diligently for the missing agents after the war. There were still 51 missing. It was discovered that 118 had disappeared and of those 117 had been killed.  As part of a War Crimes unit she was able to confirm the agent’s deaths and thus give them a grave

 The Special Operations Executive was a British World War II organisation whose purpose was to conduct espionage, sabotage and reconnaissance in occupied Europe against the Axis power and to aid local resistance groups. Very few people knew of the group’s existence, those who did often referred to it as ‘The Baker Street Irregulars’ after the location of its London headquarters. It was also known as  “Churchill’s Secret Army”  and the “Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare”.

The IBCC has recorded and preserved 100’s of first-hand accounts of life during the War, they are available for free for everyone on the IBCC’s Digital Archive.

Like this blog? Visit the IBCC’s Blog Space to read more.

Noor- Un- Nisa Inayat Khan

Noor- Un- Nisa Inayat Khan was known as Nora. She was born New Years Day 1914 in Moscow, Russia. She was the eldest child of an Indian father and American mother. In 1914, she moved to London, and then Paris, where she studied at the Sorbonne and the Paris Conservatory. She fled back to in England, when Germany invaded France.

Wishing to serve, Nora joined the WAAF and trained as a wireless operator, and by June 1941 she was at Bomber Training School. She was reported as kind, keen and hard-working. With the support of Vera Atkins, an Intelligence Officer in the French Section, Nora joined the SOE (Special Operations Executive).

In June 1943, she became the first female wireless operator to be dropped into occupied Europe, where she made her way to Paris and used the cover of a ‘child’s nurse’.  Betrayed by a collaborator, Nora was arrested in October 1943 and interrogated before attempting to escape twice. She gave the Germans no information, but they were able to fool the British into believing that they were still communicating with their agent and this resulted in the captured of newly dropped agents.

Nora managed to escape in November 1943, but was quickly recaptured. As punishment, she was kept shackled and in solitary for ten months, before being transferred to Dachau Camp. It was here that she and three other female SOE agents were executed.

For her service, Nora was Mentioned in Dispatches, and posthumously awarded the George Cross and then the Croix de Guerre and in 2011 a bronze bust of Nora was unveiled in Gordon Square, London.

The IBCC has recorded and preserved 1000’s of first-hand accounts of life during the War, they are available, for free, for everyone on the IBCC’s Digital Archive.

Want to find out about Vera Atkins?  IBCC’s Blog Space to read more.

Sergeant Oscar KL Jensen 

Oscar Jensen was born on 3^rd February 1916 and grew up in Manitoba, Canada. He enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air force and trained as a Wireless Operator / Air Gunner in February 1941. He transferred to Great Britain in April where he commenced training on Vickers Wellingtons.

At mid-day on 9^th August 1942 he took off aboard Wellington L7845 ZT-Z on a cross country flight from Number 20 OTU at RAF Lossiemouth in Scotland. An hour after take-off the aircraft crashed on Muckle Cairn, Angus; killing Oscar and two of his Canadian colleagues. The crash was attributed to the port engine cowling detaching and fouling the propeller.

Like so many Canadians, Oscar had travelled thousands of miles to serve with Bomber Command. He was killed whilst training, a fate shared by so many young men; their number not included in the 55,573 who are recorded as being lost during operational flying.

Below is a transcript of a letter in a newspaper that was loaned to the archive some time ago. It’s written by a total stranger to Oscar’s father, Einar Jensen, in Carman, Manitoba.

Dear Sir,

I hope you will pardon me taking the liberty of writing to you. I have put off doing so for two weeks but still feel I must write, so here I am.

Three young Canadian officers were laid to rest in a cemetery not far from where I live. The name of one was Sergeant O K L Jensen, your son, I expect. Need I say our heartfelt sympathy goes out to you and yours in your loss. I expect all the information you got was “killed on active service.” I am not allowed to add anything to that meantime.

I thought you might like to know where your boy’s last resting place is. The cemetery is a little country one on high ground about three miles from here. The funeral was on the 14^th August. A friend and I went to see the graves a day or two later and found them covered with wreaths and bunches of flowers. The cemetery keeper told us the coffins were covered with flags. The bugle sounded the Last Post and there was a firing party present. They each have their own resting place, not all in one grave. I wished I could have taken a snapshot to send to you, but at present we can’t get film for the camera. If we are spared till the war is won I will try to send a little snapshot of the place. Who knows but someday you may come over and see it yourselves. On the Sunday our minister spoke about the gallant lads who had given their lives and he prayed for the homes and loving hearts out in Canada that would be mourning the loss of their dear ones.

A lot more Canadian boys have given their lives lately and there will be many more sore hearts.

Somehow I felt a personal interest in the three lying not so far away. I’m just a plain working woman and can’t write a grand letter, but if it helps you parents just a little bit to hear about your boys, I will feel glad I wrote.

With Deepest sympathy, yours sincerely,

(Miss) M. J. Robertson

More on Oscar and his crew can be found here

A TRUE FRIEND          By Tony Trevor

This wartime recollection appears by kind permission of John Dimbleby

It is late afternoon on the 7^th January 1944. Everett’s bus is doing its usual normally incident free village run back from Lincoln to Atterby. However, this time it is different. The loud screaming noise of a Merlin engine in trouble was the first thing that turned the passenger’s attention away from their thoughts of everyday things. Then the sight of the flames quickly destroying the wings and spreading completed the horrific sight before them. One of our Lancaster’s had crashed and it looked bad. There was nothing for the shocked inhabitants of the bus to do but continue their journey and hope and pray that everyone was all right. In situations such as that a person can feel impotent and useless. You wish there was something you could do to help. However, for one passenger; Emma Sellars, when she alighted at Bishop Norton she knew that she had a task to do, and after depositing her shopping at home, she set off to fulfil it.

Dunholme Lodge is an area squeezed in between the A46 and the A15 about two miles to the north of Lincoln. For fifteen months during 1943 /44 it served as a Bomber Command base for 619 and 44 (Rhodesia) Squadrons. One of the new recruits to the latter, was Claude Dimbleby, who took up his post as a Mid- Upper Gunner on the 31st of May 1943. This also coincided with his 20^th birthday. Being a local lad, his home was just a few short miles away in Bishop Norton, so he had the opportunity of being able to sleep in his own bed much of the time. In contrast his pilot, Flight Sergeant Matheson, a Canadian, did not see his homeland for two and a half years. What he, Claude and the others did see was quite a lot of Germany. Their mostly nocturnal visits took them to places such as Hamburg, Berlin, Munich and they even popped over to Milan on one occasion.

Most crews were expected to complete thirty missions but after 27, Flt Sgt SA Matheson was seconded to a training unit. The rest were stood down but Claude had, through a bout of sinus trouble missed one trip, so was put on stand-by, ready to fly with a crew who found themselves a gunner short.

The moment arrived when Flying Officer Mercer and his crew happened to find themselves in need of a rear gunner and Claude was required to make up the numbers. This would not be his usual slot, but the Mid- Upper Gunner of W-William, Sergeant Bill Welch, offered to swop places. “I’ve had no real experience of that position” he told Claude, “so I wouldn’t mind giving it a go.”

They left Dunholme Lodge and headed for some practice firing ranges on the Wash. It was on their return that things started to go badly wrong. I will let Claude take up the story:

‘Engine overheating caused an overshoot of the east/west runway. This overheating then prevented us attaining enough airspeed to go round again. The inevitable was going to happen. We flashed past a wind pump tower at Grange-de-Lings Farm, a frightened worker fleeing down a ladder as fast as he could. From my position, I could see we were not going to clear a line of trees that now represents the northern boundary of Riseholme College.’

The damage was extensive. I’ve already described the flames, but all propellers were smashed, and Claude’s turret had lost its top, courtesy of a tree bough.

The crew beat a hasty retreat, but a head count revealed one member missing; Bill Welch although still conscious, could not make his escape due to his legs being trapped. His crew mates made frantic attempts to free him, but to no avail. When the medics came on the scene, all they could do was as Claude describes it, ’give him an injection to take away his pain before the flames arrived!’ How awful. That does not even bear thinking about.

Claude, Bill Welch and all their comrades were volunteers, young, brave lads. Acts of selflessness and courage come in all forms however, as Emma was to prove that night. She was a close friend of Claude’s Mum, and when she realised there was a good chance that her friend’s son may well have been on that plane, she made it her business to pay a call. Nothing was said about what she and the others had witnessed from the confines of the bus. To Claude’s Mum it was just her friend calling for a cuppa and a chat, even if to Minnie’s surprise she did stay rather longer than usual. Emma’s heart must have skipped a beat when the phone rang, and she realised the call was from the base! Claude’s survival, coupled with Bill’s death must have induced mixed feelings that night. If the outcome had been less in Claude’s favour, she was there ready to give support. To my mind, she was another wartime unsung heroine.

On the 60^th anniversary of the accident at 3-20 pm, Claude’s son John laid a wreath on the spot, in memory of Mid- Upper- Gunner Sgt William Harold Welch.

For more information on the project or to search the Losses Database or Digital Archive please click here

Sgt Grey Doyle Cumberbatch 1383404

One of the war graves in Long Bennington village Churchyard is that of the above airman. He lost his life when Lancaster 111 ED549 HW-S from 100 Sqn which took off at 18.32 from Grimsby on the 5^th March 1943 on a Gardening operation (mine laying) and crashed at 3.08 while trying to land at Langar airfield, Notts. They had been diverted from base due to fog.

Sgt Grey Doyle Cumberbatch was one of 12 young men known as ‘The Second Barbados Contingent’ who were recruited specifically for the Royal Air Force. The twelve young men included Errol W Barrow, who survived the war and went on to become Barbados’ first Prime Minister (1966-1976)

Barbados Postal Service issued a set of stamps commemorating their men who served in the Royal Air Force in WW2 and the above photo was one that was used. Sgt Cumberbatch is on the front row far left, and Errol Barrow is on the front row 3^rd from the right

G.D Cumberbatch was the eldest child and only son of Charles Wilkinson Cumberbatch and Ocatavia Ceciliy Cumberbatch née Jordan. He was born 2nd June 1921 and baptised 3rd July 1921 as Greystone Doyle Cumberbatch at St. Lucy Parish Church. He was only 21 when he was killed.

Relative, Bob Cumberbatch, states that on his voyage from Barbados to England he travelled on the SS Maaskerk in first class. The Barbados Second Contingent consisted of 12 well educated young men, six died and six lived.

On the 22^nd September 2012 a Memorial service was held in Plungar and a Memorial unveiled to the crew. Afterwards Grey’s sister, Nan Flora, came to Long Bennington to place flowers on her brother’s grave, and she shared more details about Grey, the fact he was a talented cricketer and pianist, and that the ship they travelled on had a piano but no one to play it, so Grey entertained everyone, every evening for the duration of the journey…..

 

 

 

A Navigator’s Story

This is the story told by the younger sister and a niece of a Bomber Command Navigator, who like all the brave Bomber Command colleagues have only just, 75 years on, started to be recognised for the ultimate sacrifice they made.

Our crew (as we always refer to them), like many bomber crews, were made up of seven men with different skills, we understand they chose each other as a crew and that personal chemistry was the deciding factor in their working together. We believe they met at Desborough in Northamptonshire in July 1944 where they started their heavy bomber training on Wellingtons.

They crew were, John Charles James, known as Jack, the Navigator from Manchester, he is the brother and the uncle referred to earlier. Donald Michael Roberts, known as Mick (Pilot) and  referred to as skipper (Farsley, Leeds); Frederick James Pape , Freddie , Rear Gunner (Bolton, Lancashire);  Harold Brickell, Mid Upper Gunner (Stockport), William Roberts, Wireless Operator (Reading, Berkshire); Charles Crookes, Bomb Aimer ( Lewisham, London) and George Whalley, Flight Engineer, from Glamorgan  (South Wales).

We are lucky enough to have the letters sent home from Stradishall in Suffolk where they were based as part of Number 3 Group with 186 Squadron, from November 1944 until April 1945. These letters tell a story of a close crew who shared chocolate cake sent by Jacks mother for them, along with spam and pickle sandwiches on the train back to their base. It would seem that Jack and his friend Freddie, would meet at Piccadilly station in Manchester and Harold would join them at Stockport en-route to Stradishall, after returning from leave.

The letters go on to tell, how Charles was sending a parcel home for his baby daughter, how Mick was being given leave to collect his older brothers MC, how they had their picture taken under the wings of their Lancaster, that they had at last got their own ‘plane and so were a happy crew again.

Their bombing raids were mainly in daytime over Germany to Kamen, Cologne, Dortmund, Datteln, Munster and Hamm. Their only night time raid was on the Friday 13 April 1945 to Kiel, and it was this mission on the return journey home where our crew all lost their lives, just as they were about to land back at base.  Sadly, two Lancasters (YPB 488 and YPB 483) were called in to land at the same time – resulting in a fatal crash in the early hours of the 14th April 1945.

The event is remembered well and noted by the late Philip Gray, a pilot at Stradishall, on that fateful day, his book Ghosts of Targets Past (1995), he goes on to say ” throughout the night and all of the following day the clean-up continued. 10 bodies were found, and there were three survivors”.

So the story continued, some 65 years on when we found the letters by chance in 2010, amongst them, some from the parents to other crew members’ families about their terrible loss of much loved sons, brothers and fathers, so close to the end of the war.

This resulted in us wanting to know more about these men and their lives as a bomber crew and resulted in a visit to Stradishall to meet a very special gentleman, Jock Whitehouse who has worked tirelessly over the years to keep the memory of 186 Squadron alive, and who gave us vital information about the collision, he even gave us a piece of the Lancaster (PB 488) they had flown in that had been retrieved over 40 years later from the field they crashed in. Of course we had to make a visit to the former base, and then went onto the local village church St Margaret’s where a rose was planted in their memory, we are told it flowered the year after being planted.

More recently, hearing of the launch of the long overdue International Bomber Command Centre, there were discussions about ordering a memorial stone for a much loved brother and uncle as part of the ‘Ribbon of Remembrance’ initiative. Then, the Navigator’s little sister, who was then 82 said, ‘’Jack would not like that, look at the letters again, they were a crew and they each deserve a special memory, they lived and died together’’.  More research has revealed that some of the crew, have no surviving relatives, and so a memorial stone has been ordered for each of them, and a request that they are placed next to each other as a team, just as they were in 1945.

 

To remember a loved one in the Ribbon of Remembrance, please click here

AVM Sir R.A. Cochrane – provided by Geoff Raebel, Australian Bomber Command Association Editor

 It was a particularly bitter night in the winter of 1944 as the Warrant Officer made a last check of the dispersals of his Flight at 463 Squadron, Waddington. Snow swirled around him as he trudged from bay to bay, it was not a night to be out. Under the wing of a Lancaster something moved, instantly alert the W/O cautiously approached a man. To put the other off-guard he bellowed at him “Who the blazes are you?”

The man pulled pack one shoulder of his greatcoat to reveal his shoulder flashes “Cochrane, AVM.”

The W/O snapped to attention while doing a double-take and simultaneously threw up a salute “Sir” It was the Commanding Officer of 5 Group, Bomber Command.

“Who are you” Cochrane asked and the W/O identified himself then Cochrane continued “I was just visiting your CO and decided to take a tour on the way out. The driver bogged the Hillman over there” he pointed into the night. “He went off to find the Guardhouse a half hour ago to rouse the Officer of the Day” The W/O took it all in as Cochrane continued “Is there any shelter about?”

“Come this way sir” he beckoned “The Erks have a humpy, it’s only a couple of minutes”

The W/O pushed open the door of the shelter made of canvas and scrap timber surprising the fitters inside and called “Ten – shnn” The Australians smirked until they saw the officer behind the W/O and they jumped to their feet. “Gentlemen, Air Vice Marshal Cochrane” the W/O introduced.

“As you were” said Cochrane. The men open mouthed, thought, they rarely see Rollo except when on Squadron Parade where on earth did their Group Commander drop from.

Relaxing, one of the men offered Cochrane a box to sit on while another plied him with a hot cup of tea in an old chipped tin mug from the iron stove.

When he had almost finished the door burst open again letting in a shower of snow. A Pilot Officer stuck his head in “Right you lot, on the double outside, we have an officer lost nearby!”

Nobody moved, the Pilot Officer began to puff up, in the face of the usual insubordination where popular pilots were known by their nicknames, then his eyes landed on Cochrane. He snapped to attention crashing his head into the door lintel before he could salute. A fitter caught him and put him on a box beside Cochrane. Other startled members of the search party crowded into the humpy saluting Cochrane as they came in.

“Well Pilot Officer” Cochrane started “I’ll bet you’re glad you found me. Now have you got any transport, I should be getting back to Group Headquarters”

“Sir, yes we can lend your driver a car and swap them tomorrow” the Pilot Officer replied

Cochrane looked around the crowded humpy “Excellent, thank you gentlemen for your hospitality on a cold night, it has been most instructive. Pilot Officer, my compliments to your Commanding Officer and I must be on my way.”

The Erks sat in awe as they watched the humpy empty, a brush with fame.

To find out more about AVM Sir R.A. Cochrane see his biography here

You can read our other blogs here

 

Image By Royal Air Force official photographer Stannus (F/O) – This is photograph CH 14564 from the collections of the Imperial War Museums.Transfered from en.wikipedia 2007-03-17 (original upload date) Original uploader was Greenshed at en.wikipedia, Public Domain, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=3217591

During the lead up to the WW2 it was realised that aerial activity was going to take a much more prominent role than previously seen. Studies of the Spanish Civil War revealed that aerial conflict led to an increase in burn injuries and a subsequent increase in the need for treatment facilities to deal with the casualties. The Emergency Medical Service was developed in order to cope with this anticipated demand. One of their centres was established at the Queen Victoria Cottage Hospital under the leadership of the New Zealand plastic surgeon, Archibald McIndoe.

Archibald was made CBE in 1944 and then Knighted in 1947, in recognition of his pioneering work in the treatment of deep burn injuries and reconstructive surgery. During the early years of the war, victims of burns from RAF aircrews were taken to his hospital located in East Grinstead which was soon to become world famous. They challenged the existing perception that disabilities were life-limiting and went on to mentor the patients in order to move back into general society with a rebuilt mental attitude to match their renewed physical state.

Patients would socialise together at the hospital during their ongoing treatment and convalescence and, on 20^th July 1941, their conversation turned to the idea of setting up a club. As they were, in effect, guinea pigs in the developing techniques of plastic surgery, it was decided that “The Guinea Pig Club” would be an appropriate name.

The Guinea Pig Club was set up as a result of this conversation and developed to include three types of membership:

• The Guinea Pig. These members consisted of Allied Air Force aircrew members of WWII who had undergone at least two operations, at the hospital, for their injuries.
• Honorary Member. These consisted of Surgeons, Doctors, and Scientists involved in the development and implementation of the techniques of treatment.
• Club Benefactors. These members became known as “Friends of the Guinea Pig Club”.

Mr. McIndoe was installed as the President of this new club but other committee members were drawn from the patients themselves. It is testament to their approach to their injuries and recovery that allowance was made to their committee duties to reflect their abilities. For example, the Secretary was excused excessive letter writing due to his badly burned fingers and a member with burned legs was selected as Treasurer as this would prevent him from “doing a runner” with the Club Funds.

Although the original Club was primarily a drinking club to be disbanded at the end of the war, it went from strength to strength, was well supported, and had a membership of 649 Guinea Pigs by the end of the war so it was decided to keep the Club in existence. The membership at this time was predominately British at approximately 62% with 20% Canadians, 6% Australians, 6% New Zealanders and 6% from other countries.

This membership started out with pilots of fighter aircraft but as time went on this changed to more bomber crew members and the injuries went from hands and faces to include more widespread areas of the body.

Reunions were arranged and attended by members. These reunions used to be on an annual basis in East Grinstead and also for other occasions. These would be attended by members from all over the world. The aim of the Club, nearly 80 years after formation, is to ensure that the Guinea Pigs or their widows are taken care of if they are in need of financial assistance and if medical advice is required. A newsletter was also published annually in order to maintain communication between members.

Sadly, Sir Archibald McIndoe passed away in 1960 and from that time H.R.H. Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh took over as the President of the Club. In their 60^th anniversary year, 2001, members agreed to continue holding their annual gatherings at East Grinstead until the membership fell to only 50 members. In reality, the last reunion took place in 2007 which attracted over 60 attendees and as a result of the advancing age and increasing frailty of the membership it was decided to wind down the reunions.

As the years have passed, the surviving original members have dwindled to just a handful, some of which have been interviewed for the IBCC Digital Archive.

To access the Archive, please follow this link, https://internationalbcc.co.uk/history-archive/digital-archive/ where you will be able to search for interviews with Jan Black, Desmond O’Connell, William Holmes, and Sandy Saunders and others.

Post WW2, new generations of burns victims, who were injured in the Falklands, Iraq, and Afghanistan conflicts etc. have all been treated using techniques developed by Sir Archibald McIndoe and his pioneering team.

 

In 2014, DV202 KM-Z  was featured in a BBC programme called The Lancaster: Britain’s Flying Past, hosted by John Sergeant, who also hosted the IBCC Opening Ceremony in 2018.

The 44 (Rhodesia) Sqn Lancaster was on an operation to Peenemunde on the night of 18th August 1943, taking off from RAF Dunholme Lodge.  The aircraft crashed into the Kolpinsee near their target, with all crew lost.

In late October 2019, the Thorpe family brought to the IBCC two medals in their original postal box and gifted them to the project.  The 39-45 Star, and Aircrew Europe had been awarded to Sergeant LF McDermott posthumously.

Elaine places a poppy for Sgt McDermott

Research by the IBCC team uncovered that McDermott had been part of the crew serving on DV202 which had been featured in the BBC documentary.  The documentary had focussed on fellow crew member, Air Gunner, Flt Sgt Stanley Shaw.  His daughter, Elaine Towlson, visited the exact spot of the fatal crash to lay flowers in tribute.  The remnants of the plane can be seen lying in the shallow waters of the lake

On Saturday 7th March 2020, Elaine brought in a collection of memorabilia for digitisation relating to her father. She also took time to lay poppies for each of her father’s crew.  It was an emotional visit for both her and her son, Russell.  Whilst at the centre, they were shown McDermott’s medals, poignant because Elaine remembered meeting “Mac” several times.

To find out more about the crew members please click their names.

Harding, RC (P/O) RCAF, Pilot

Prendergast, L (P/O), Navigator

Weston, TN (Sgt), Flight Engineer

Quance, WH (Sgt), Wireless Operator

McDermott, LF (Sgt), Bomb Aimer

Pynisky, P, (F/O) RCAF, Air Gunner

Shaw, S, (Flt.Sgt), Air Gunner

For more information on the project and to plan a visit click here

Mother, Mother, I don’t want to die. 

By Flying Officer Les Lauzon, 432 Squadron

The words came over my emergency radio channel as I was going down in flames on a dark night just west of Cambrai, France, on June 13^th 1944.  The Leaside Squadron had been assigned the marshalling yards in Cambrai as our target for the night, flying at low altitude of 6,000ft to assure accuracy and to protect the French population.  Just as I was closing the bomb doors after the bombs were dropped the Halifax 111 four engine bomber was hit by two of four shells fired at the aircraft from the ground.  One shell went through the mid-upper gunner’s turret and another went through the port wing between the two engines, damaging both and causing a fire.  The fuel lines were cut and high octane fuel was pouring into the fuselage.  I knew the aircraft was mortally wounded so immediately gave the orders for the crew to bail out.  Calls from each of the crew, except the tail gunner, came back over my headset as they left and parachuted into the dark sky over enemy territory.

With two engines damaged on the port side I had tremendous difficulty in controlling the aircraft. I wrapped my left arm around the control column and trimmed the aircraft as best I could, but it required all my strength.  The fire, smoke and smell of cordite filled the cockpit and I opened the escape hatch above my head.  The damaged wing had to be held up otherwise the aircraft would have spun into the ground within seconds with no chance of survival.  My Flight Engineer rushed by me to exit the aircraft but fortunately I was able to grab him and get him to give me my chute.  A few seconds later my mid-upper gunner came up beside me – his parachute had been hit by flak and was burned.  I decided the best thing to do was to give him mine, so I detached it from my Sutton Harness and gave it to him ordering him to bail out.  Just below me, a few miles ahead, was a burning Lancaster crashing into the ground.  I was watching the ground to see if there was any water or something that would give me an idea of my altitude.  There was nothing – just darkness.  I prayed and turned my radio to the emergency channel and one voice came through loud and clear “Mother, Mother.  I don’t want to die.  I don’t want to die” and then silence.  I prayed as I tried everything to control the aircraft and to make a judgement on my altitude.  To my surprise my gunner came up beside me – he had not jumped and had tried to put out the fires with the extinguishers – a hopeless job.  Chris Christoff was a real hero – only 18 1/2 years old and he stayed with me, later telling me he wasn’t about to leave me alone in the aircraft.  At this point I was afraid we were too low for him to bail out.  Also there was the possibility of the aircraft exploding or a fighter attack to finish us off.  Machine gun shells were exploding from the heat of the burning fuel.  I watched the altimeter and decided at 600ft that I was near enough the ground so I closed the throttles and shut down the engines.  It was a miracle – the aircraft touched down and swung 90 degrees left avoiding a raised double track electric railway line just ahead of us.  I crawled out of the canopy above me and Chris followed me onto the wing and then to the ground.  We were both overjoyed to still be alive but we were still in enemy territory!  This was just the start of the fight to stay alive and possibly escape.

This story was sent to us by Reg Miles who lives in Maryborough, Queensland.  He is 96 years old, and joined the RAF in January 1939 as an AA at Halton.  He flew with RCAF as Flight Engineer, from Tholthorpe and Eastmoor on 41 ops with 432 and 420 Squadrons. He says about Les

“Les Lauzon was the cause of me not going with them on their last op, he was distracted and failed to hold the control column while I removed the elevator lock, most FEs lost some fingers when this happened, but being solid bone from head to toe, he just mangled my hand very badly.  How he was distracted will best be forgotten.

So after many years of trying to contact Les or any of the crew, I managed to find that he was in an old peoples home in north Canada, on the phone from Australia I managed to battle my way past the Matron, and spoke to Les, a very faint old voice replied.  When I said I was his Flight Engineer from WW2, he replied, “How is your hand?”.  Tears streamed down my face, this hero had been shot down saved all his crew, been a prisoner of the Germans, got home again, married, had a family, and now, far from well, still remembered my hand, and had done so every day of his life since the 12 June 1944.  It still makes me sad when I retell it again.”

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Our Losses Database holds over 3 million pieces of data on those who lost their lives serving and supporting Bomber Command.  To find out more click here

A Father’s Tale

Alan Green was a navigator who served with 218 Sqn on Wellingtons and Stirlings during World War 11 and flew more than 20 missions, including the first 1000 bomber raid and daylight attacks on the famous battleship Scharnhorst. His son, Stuart was only 12 when his father died in 1976, aged 56.  Stuart, an airline pilot, has been researching his story.

In the course of his research Stuart has met the Dutch families who helped Alan when his aircraft was shot down. The first time Alan was shot down, in May 1942 it was by a British night fighting Hurricane over the south coast. The second time, in June that year, he was shot down by a German night fighter which resulted in him baling out over Holland.  Alan went on the run but was taken prisoner, ending up as a PoW in Stalag Luft III.  Among Stuart’s most precious possessions are Alan’s Stalag Luft III registration documents and a letter he wrote to his parents from the camp.

In May 2012 Stuart took his family who, of course, had never known their grandfather, on a trip to Stalag Luft III.  He also discovered that there was a memorial, erected in 2010, on the site of the crash of his father’s bomber, a four-engined Stirling.  He found a witness to the crash, 87-year-old Tiny De Boer, was still alive and living in the same house next to the site as she had been in 1942.

Stuart says “I visited Holland in November 2011 and met members of the family on whose land my father came down in his parachute. They said he was on the run, laying low, for three days before he was captured. They helped him as much as they could and subsequently found his chute, which was eventually used for clothing, although they kept the parachute harness buckles and presented them to me – a very special moment.

“We laid flowers at the crash site and later walked all around the site with locals pointing out exactly where my father came down. We also visited the military cemetery, where 285 bomber crew were buried, to pay respects at the graves of my father’s three crew members who died in the crash including the pilot, Sqn Ldr Ashworth, who had flown with my father 33 times and been shot down with him before. At 40 he was an old man for Bomber Command crew.

“Throughout the day, the Dutch were incredibly warm, hospitable and deeply respectful of the contribution and sacrifice”

The three crew members who perished in the crash were William Watt, Billy Whitehead and S/L Ashworth.  William Watt’s niece, Ros Bryant, made contact with Stuart in 2014 and in July Stuart and Ros met for the first time at the London Bomber Command Memorial.  Ros and her husband Graham had just visited the crash site and cemetery in Holland where William was buried.  Ros had been keen to visit Tiny de Boer to thank her for the memorial which she had helped organise but sadly, Tiny had passed away, aged 93, only a few days before Ros and Graham’s visit.

During their conversation Stuart learned that William had had a younger brother, John, who was killed whilst serving in Bomber Command.

This photo of the crew was taken 2 days before they were shot down. Alan is on the extreme left with William standing next to him. They flew together at least 10 times and survived an earlier shoot down in a friendly fire incident involving a Hurricane and a Turbinlite Havoc – all the crew survived!

W7530 taken a few days before the shoot done by an RAF Photographer who visited 218 Sq at Marham.

To read more stories like this please click here

Our free to access Digital Archive holds 1000’s of items from Bomber Command’s history.  Click here to access the Archive

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF A REAR GUNNER   –   FRIDAY 23 FEB 1945.

0700 Hrs: With a quiet knock on my door, Jimmy our batman, entered with the ever welcome morning cuppa. It was his usual strong brew guaranteed to sustain body and soul against the penetrating chill of the North Lincolnshire weather. After a quick wash and shave I decided that yesterday’s shirt would pass muster for another day and at 0730, after my skipper’s stentorian call of “Ready”, from his room next door, we were off on the brisk half mile walk to the mess for breakfast. As always I devoured all placed before me; porridge, bacon, egg, sausage and fried bread followed by toast, marmalade and lashings of hot sweet tea. Even in my 21^st year I was still a growing boy, fit as a butcher’s dog and doing my utmost to remain so.

0820 Hrs: Out again into the Lincolnshire weather arriving at the Squadron Gunnery Section to be briefed on the projected activities for the day by the Gunnery leader Flight Lieutenant ‘Johnny’ Wymark, DSO, DFC and to assist him with the administration duties of the section; this included a visit to the Squadron armoury. On 103 Squadron each crew had their own set of eight .303 Brownings and each gunner was required to carry out mandatory checks to maintain the guns in sound working condition. A register was kept of every gunner’s visit to the armoury by a tiny Geordie W.A.A.F. Corporal who ruled her domain with a rod of iron and wept buckets for every gunner lost on operations. Sadly I cannot bring her name to mind but I will never forget that small figure at the end of the runway waving to all the crews at take-off time and even the worst weather never deterred that small dark-haired girl.

1000 hrs: With the crew minus the skipper (A Flight Commander) and Bill Treen, the other gunner who was away on a course, we strolled down to the `Red Shield’ canteen for the morning break. As always this large room was packed with about 90% of the station aircrew establishment and a fair number of ground crew.  The ritual of gathering at the Red Shield was threefold: a cuppa, a natter and to keep an eye on the two Post Office telephone kiosks outside the station guardroom. This was an early warning of impending operations; if service policemen emerged from the guardroom, and with a wee touch of the ceremonial the kiosks were duly padlocked, it was certain that an operation was scheduled. From that point in time all telephone calls in and out of the station were restricted to operations only and I think that remained so until two hours after the last aircraft was airborne.

I vividly recall that crews reacted in two distinct ways, some jumped up immediately leaving unfinished drinks, hurrying away to their respective sections whilst the remainder continued to linger over their drinks as if reluctant to leave the illusionary protection of the ‘Red Shield’. But eventually the canteen emptied leaving the dedicated staff of Salvation Army personnel who provided a welcome meeting place for aircrew and ground crews alike.

1100 Hrs: The ‘Battle Order’ is posted, our crew are down to fly as it seems to be a maximum effort for the Squadron, it is likely to be our first ‘Main Force’ target. It is an important day for me and although nothing had ever been said I think it was an important day for the crew as a whole. I had flown with another crew on a minelaying operation to Heligoland Bight on the 5th February, replacing Shorty Jay, a Canadian gunner who had lost a leg on an operation a few days before. Sadly that crew, skippered by Canadian Flying Officer Stephanoff did not return from an operation over Germany. Could this be the trip that we as a crew could prove with our new navigator and become fully operational with a main force target under our belts?

With Bill Treen away, I had recommended to my Skipper that Sergeant Walford, from Flight Lieutenant Anderson’s crew, would take over as Mid-upper and I would man the rear turret. I had known him from our first day in the Royal Air Force meeting him at Lords cricket ground where we had first reported as aircrew cadets. A farmer’s boy from Gloucestershire, he was legendary amongst our contemporaries in the gunnery world as an outstanding shot and in my opinion he was both conscientious and reliable.

We made our way to the armoury to check the guns, give them a pull through with 4 x 2 to ensure dry barrels then much to the embarrassment of our little Geordie W.A.A.F. Corporal, we ceremoniously placed the thick issue contraceptives over the muzzle flash of each gun to keep out the unwanted moisture which was quick to freeze in the cold hostile environment over Germany.

1145 Hrs: Back to the Section, a quick check to confirm that all gunners designated on the ‘Battle Order’ were available, and then into the Skipper’s office to report on our activities in the Armoury. He informed me that transport was laid on to take the crew to our aircraft ‘ITEM’ at 1400 hrs for pre-flight checks, and to install the guns in front, mid-upper and rear turrets.

Then a walk back to the mess to check on the daily tease of ‘Jane’, the famous strip cartoon of the era. The skipper suggested a relaxing game of snooker, and on this occasion I believe I managed to beat him. I think the menu that day was brown Windsor soup, liver and bacon, potatoes, and carrots, followed by Bakewell tart and custard. I calculated that during my wartime service I consumed about 90 gallons of custard annually, custard being one of the great fillers used by catering officers to satisfy hungry young men.

1400 Hrs: We loaded our eight Brownings onto a 15 cwt. of ancient vintage, climbed aboard and set off along the peri-track to our aircraft’s dispersal. On arrival, we off loaded each of us to our individual tasks and when all was completed as a crew we checked the intercom each in turn reporting to the skipper his position serviceable. Immediately the last report had been received the skipper initiated one of the many practice emergency drills. He always insisted on the highest standards and continued the drills until we performed them to his satisfaction. At last he was satisfied and he clambered out to have a word with our crew chief while we had a quick chat with the rest of the ground crew.

My next visit was to the PT section to see Flight Sergeant Frank Marsh the captain of our football team. Frank, a physical training instructor had been one of the famous five in Bolton Wanderers forward line that had promised to do great things in the English First Division 1939/40 season, alas they were together for just a few games when the war intervened. He became my great friend and gave me a tremendous amount of support and assistance in carrying out my ancillary duty as Station Football Officer. We were due to play a game in Scunthorpe the following day.

1630 Hrs: The crew meet outside Squadron H.Q. and we make our way to the briefing room situated in the Station Intelligence complex. An air of tension mixed in the smoke laden dim atmosphere when at precisely 1645 Hrs the Station Commander and the Squadron Commander entered, we sprang to attention and remained in that stiff posture until they reached their positions of the stage when he said, “Gentlemen be seated”. As he waited for us to settle down, this tall dark severe looking man glanced around the dim room with flashing eyes which seemed to convey encouragement and at the same time wishing that he was going on the operation. At last when the room fell silent he started to speak, “Tonight gentlemen you are privileged to strike deep into the heart of Germany; your target has never been attacked in strength before and although you will be part of a comparatively small force, I am confident you will destroy your objective in tonight’s attack. Your target is Pforzheim – hit hard and good luck”.

Then each Leader in turn, crossed the ’t’s and dotted the `i’s. My boss Johnny Wymark stressed the danger of relaxing when joining the circuit on return – the Luftwaffe were using JU88s in the intruder role, pouncing on unsuspecting victims coming in to land. As always, he ended with a reminder to all rear gunners to set the correct wing span on the Giro Gun Sight, to be aggressive, and with final “Good Luck!” the briefing was completed.

1730 Hrs: Our Night Flying Meal: bacon, sausage, egg, baked beans, chips, all washed down with a pint of milk. At 1830 Hrs. we assembled in the locker room, and the ritual of dressing up begins. Stripping down to my shreddies I don a pair of my girl friend’s discarded silk stockings, then aircrew issue silk/wool long johns, pair of everyday socks followed by electric socks. Next came my electric suit pressing in the sock connectors. Then shirt, battle-dress trousers, sea boot stockings with trousers tucked into fleece-lined flying boots, long thick aircrew sweater and battle-dress to;. all this before taking into consideration the Mae West life-jacket and parachute.

1930 Hrs: The last `fag’ is ground into the grass and we climb aboard. I slither down the slope to the rear turret, settle into my seat, plug in the intercom connection, connect the oxygen supply, turn around to pick up my gloves and then lock the sliding doors. I am now alone in my own little world. The intercom is live, and the skipper checks each crew position. I confirm I’m on full oxygen (gunners and pilot were on full oxygen from the ground, remainder of crew from 10,000 feet).

1935 Hrs: Start up time – Pilot and Flight Engineer commence the procedure, the four Merlins with their magical sound turn the metal airframe into a pulsating living machine, trembling like a maiden going out on her first date. The hydraulic system is now functioning, I unlock the turret turning the guns first to starboard then to port, then up and down – all is well and I return to the fore and aft position and relock the turret ready for take-off.

I next turn my attention to the task of gloving up. First the thin silk, then the electric (as always I struggle with the wrist connecting studs), then the RAF blue woollen gloves and finally leather gauntlets. I flex my fingers to check that my restricted digits will be able to perform their required tasks.

1940 Hrs: The wheel chocks are pulled away, brakes released and we start to roll. Eventually we reach the end of the runway, we turn starboard, line up, I place all four guns to ‘fire’ position. A ‘green’ from the caravan and our 66,000lb all up weight slowly gathers speed to free herself in her own wonderful way from Mother Earth.

As we settle down on the heading for Grantham, I unlock the turret and begin the 180 degree square search pattern which is to be my task for the next eight hours. As we climbed ever upwards through thin layers of broken cloud I can feel butterflies in my stomach. This feeling of apprehension was with me for the first and last 30 minutes of every operational flight. It was during this time I made peace with my God and I was at peace with myself and the rest of the world until 30 minutes before touch-down.

We soon crossed over the continental coastline, and as we were in the third wave of the attacking force we were right at the end of the Bomber stream, I saw few of our aircraft throughout the whole flight. At last we attain our operational height, and we press on towards unsuspecting Pforzheim, where even in homes and small workshops the Germans were manufacturing intricate time fuses, aircraft instrumentation, and parts for high technology weapons such as the `V’ weapons.

2230 Hrs: Suddenly, I feel a burning sensation on my right foot and ankle, I quickly switch off the power supply to my electric suit, the pain subsides and I estimate I will be without the warmth of my flying suit for the next five hours. I assured the skipper I can cope, but didn’t tell him my biggest worry was would I be able to play football the following day.

The skipper announces over the intercom “Target Dead Ahead.” The RT is tuned to the Master Bomber frequency, and I hear his call sign `King Cole’ calmly instructing the Main Force to use particular coloured target indicators for their aiming points as if he were officiating at a fireworks display. We were about 15 minutes away from our `bombs away’ time, and our bomb aimer made his way to his position preparing for his part in the drama unfolding over Pforzheim.

While this was going on, I had changed my wing span selections on the giro gun sight to 40 feet. The target area is FW190 and ME109 country, and I continue the never-ending search. Almost immediately, there is a movement on the starboard quarter, slightly higher than ourselves, about 800 yards range – it is a FW190 stalking us – he maintains his position and range. I calmly report to the skipper he replies “Roger” and I continued to report. The Mid Upper gunner confirms the sighting and swings his turret to port just in case they are hunting as a pair.

As we commence our bombing run, the 190 maintains his position and range and I begin to wonder if in fact he has spotted us. I can’t believe he hasn’t as we must stand out against all the glow of the target ahead. It flashes through my mind that when fired on German pilots are discouraged and usually leave wide awake crews to search for less vigilant ones. He starts to close the range without committing himself. I alert the skipper to prepare to Corkscrew Starboard remembering Johnny Wymark’s brief to be aggressive; I decide to open fire at 400 yards if he has not committed himself to a curve of pursuit attack. The Skipper concurs and I let loose with two short sharp burst of about three seconds each. A stream of tracer passes all around the enemy aircraft and a very startled fighter pilot immediately dives to port. He levels out low on our port quarter again at about 800 yards range.

I keep a beady eye on him then seconds later his starboard wing drops. He begins a curve of pursuit to layoff deflection for another target, I spot his prey low on our port beam, it’s another Lancaster and closing to 200 yards the 190 levelled off dead astern to give him a zero deflection shot – he loosed off a deadly stream of cannon shells into an unsuspecting prey. The Lancaster rolls over plunging down to Earth and to her doom. The 190 follows her down disappearing from my sight and I report the kill and our Navigator notes the time and position in his log.

The square search is resumed, our bombing run continues, left, left, steady, steady, when out of the blue the Master Bomber seems to be in trouble, in a clear undramatic voice he transmits. “This is King Cole I am handing over to King Cole 2”; he is unable to continue and his deputy takes over the task. Seconds later our Bomb Aimer calls over the intercom, “bombs away”, we have been successful in delivering our load. We have completed half our task and are on the way home.

0020 Hrs: Suddenly I begin to feel a cold chill on my behind, the excitement of the encounter with the 190 and the bombing run is beginning to wear off, I have been without the heat of my suit for nearly two hours and I am starting to feel the effects. It was a long uneventful return trip home and despite the butterflies in the last thirty minutes of the flight, I was elated when we turned onto finals and down through the funnel of airfield lights and ITEM kissed the tarmac with her wheels. Turning starboard off the runway I busied myself with selecting guns to safe, peeling off my gloves and turning off the oxygen supply as we taxied to dispersal.

As we rocked to a halt, the engines closed down creating an eerie silence. I began to unlock the guns from their mountings when one of our ground crew appeared at the open turret to assist in off loading the four Brownings. Disembarking at Squadron H.Q. the guns were conveyed to the armoury where the ever present W.A.A.F. Geordie Corporal volunteered to clean my guns whilst I went to debriefing. I accepted with grateful thanks and we made our way to Intelligence Section.

The skipper had a quick word with Doc Henderson who immediately steered me to the temporary canteen – poured a double rum into a mug and ordered me to drink as prescribed – right down, chug a lug style. The thick dark liquid flowed down my gullet and I felt the warmth spreading through my digestive system. As soon as I had finished drinking this we sat down at the table with Flying Officer Buster Brown, our debriefing officer. I told him of our brush with the F.W. 190 – the Navigator gave the time and position of the downed Lancaster, our Bomb Aimer, painting a colourful picture of the target and the aiming point he used from the directions given by King Cole 1.

The skipper paid tribute to the activities of the Master Bomber and we were later to learn that he had not survived and had been awarded the Victoria Cross, the last to be awarded to Bomber Command in WW II. His crew must be very proud to have served with such a gallant officer. It has been said the Pforzheim was the most perfectly marked target of Bomber Command’s offensive. The force of 360 Lancasters destroyed 83% of the built up area of this unfortunate medieval town.

Our story told we departed to the locker room to change back into normal uniform and went to the mess for breakfast. As we entered the dining room a fair number of officers were exchanging accounts of their individual experiences and the chances for the crew we had lost that night.

0530 Hrs: Breakfast over, the skipper and I walked wearily back to our billet. I was extremely lucky that the Doc found no sign of frostbite, and after an inspection of my burns on toe and ankle I was given clearance to play football that afternoon. Drifting into a sound sleep about 0600 Hrs, I dreamed of performing heroic deeds as the station goalkeeper later that afternoon.

Aircraft: Lancaster BIII PM – I    103 Squadron – RAF Elsham Wolds        1 Group

 From the diary of F/O W E Monteith

Crew Left to Right:	Standing: Wireless Operator W/O H.P. Cakebread RAF; Flight Engineer Sgt T. Urion RAF; Pilot S/Ldr K.J.R. Butler RAF; Rear Gunner and author of above account (in the shades!) Flying Officer WE. Monteith RAF.
	Kneeling: Navigator F/Sgt C. Cassier RCAF; Bomb Aimer F/Sgt Bonny Clark RAF; Mid-Upper Gunner Sgt V. Walford RAF.

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 Having the privilege of working in the Garton Archive at Lincoln Christ’s Hospital School, I regularly receive surprises concerning the School’s rich heritage. A recent one has been the revelation that one of the nation’s heroes from the Dambusters raid was an Old Lincolnian by the name of Edward Cuthbert Johnson DFC. Inevitably he carried the soubriquet ‘Johnny’, and is therefore the second Lincoln School legend to bear that nickname, the other being the long-serving and much-loved and respected English master, ‘Johnny’ Philips.

I am indebted to Richard Lascelles, who attended Lincoln School from 1958-63, for drawing my attention to the fact that ‘Johnny’ Johnson was an integral part of the famous  raid.

The Lincoln School Admissions Register recorded that Edward Johnson was born on 12^th February 1917, and was admitted to Lincoln School in September 1926. He lived at 4 Burton Road, and attended the Christ’s Hospital ‘Bluecoat’ School on Christ’s Hospital Terrace before entering Lincoln School. His father, J H Johnson, was listed as a cycle dealer.

Edward owed his second name to his mother Jessie, whose maiden name was Cuthbert, and who was born and raised in Gainsborough. The family also had connections with Washingborough, where Edward was baptized.

Edward was a Cathedral chorister during his time at Lincoln School, and left in April 1931 to take up an apprenticeship at the Lincolnshire Chronicle Printing Works. Interestingly, he would have been a pupil at Lincoln School at the same time as Alex Henshaw, the Spitfire test pilot, who was the subject of another recent article in the Second World War series from the Garton Archive.

The 2002 edition of the Old Christ’s Hospital Lincolnians Newsletter made reference to the Daily Telegraph obituary, which stated that Flying Officer Edward Johnson deservedly merited the DFC after the spectacular success of his role as bomb-aimer with Guy Gibson’s 617 Squadron on the night of the 15^th/16^th August 1943, when at the third attempt he was responsible for releasing one of Barnes Wallis’s bouncing bombs. The resultant devastating breach of the Eder Dam unleashed more than 300 million tons of water into the valley below. Earlier on that night, the Squadron had taken off from its RAF Scampton base at 9.55 pm. It is a sobering thought that eight of the nineteen Lancasters which left Scampton on that night failed to return.

Johnson, at 31 the ‘old man of the raid’, claimed that his own ‘Johnson sight’, a drawing of the Moehne Dam’s twin towers on the large circular window of his aircraft compartment, greatly assisted him in choosing the right split-second for his aim at the Eder Dam.  The device was described in the Daily Telegraph obituary as a primitive, if clearly effective, apparatus.

The following vivid and more detailed account of the Dams raid has been transcribed from the Dambusters Blog (www.dambustersblog.com).

There were two bomb aimers called Johnson on the Dams Raid, something that occasionally causes confusion. A third bomb aimer was called Johnston. In the inevitable way of things in the wartime RAF, both Johnsons were also known to their friends and colleagues as ‘Johnny’. The older of the two was Edward Cuthbert Johnson, bomb aimer in Les Knight’s crew, who was born in Lincoln on 3 May 1912. When his father was killed on the Western Front in 1914, he and his mother moved to Gainsborough, although he was educated at Lincoln Grammar School.

On leaving school, he worked for Woolworths and then the catering firm, Lyons, and then in a boarding house business in Blackpool with his wife’s family.
He joined the RAF in 1940, qualified as an observer/bomb aimer in early 1942, and was commissioned. After further training he was posted briefly to 106 Squadron, but then sent back to a training unit to be crewed up with Les Knight and his colleagues. They moved to 50 Squadron in September 1942, and Johnson flew on some 22 operations with the Knight crew.

Johnson and Hobday were the elder statesmen of the Knight crew, both nine years older than their skipper, and senior to him in rank. But they worked well as a team, each obviously seeing in the younger man what an outstanding pilot he was. All three were decorated for their role in the Dams Raid, Knight getting the DSO and Johnson and Hobday the DFC, and were photographed together outside Buckingham Palace on the day of the investiture.

In September, on the fateful Dortmund Ems operation Johnson jumped from the stricken Lancaster when ordered to by Knight. He yelled: ‘Cheerio boys. Best of luck. See you in London.’ He recalled later: ‘The farewells were a little hasty but lacked nothing in sincerity for that.’

Like four of his colleagues, Johnson successfully evaded capture and reached the safety of Spain, with the help of a friendly Dutch farmer and policeman, and various members of the resistance in Holland, Belgium and France. He returned to the UK, via Gibraltar. He served out the rest of the war in various ground postings, and left the RAF in 1947. He went back to Blackpool, and joined a company selling fireplaces, where he worked until his retirement.

Richard Lascelles has also recommended The Dambusters’ Raid, by John Sweetman, for an authoritative description of the raid.

The next important mission in which Johnson took part was the attack on the heavily-defended Dortmund Ems canal, used at the time for moving prefabricated U-boats to the sea from the Ruhr factories. The Daily Telegraph reported that Knight took off from Coningsby on 15^th September 1943, to which 617 Squadron had moved because of the advantage of its longer bitumen runway compared to Scampton’s grass surface. That was an important consideration given the weight of Wallis’s latest 10-ton bomb.

Johnson was in the nose viewing the target area in poor visibility, when he was horrified to catch sight of some trees ahead, higher than the aircraft. He yelled, “Up, up, for God’s sake,” but although Knight reacted swiftly Johnson recalled a horrible crunching sound, as they swept through the air at 250 mph. The Telegraph article described that fateful scene as follows:

The situation was dire, with furious flak and fire in two port engines, as Knight, hoping to make it home, coaxed the Lancaster to some 350 metres. Johnson had already jettisoned the huge bomb to gain more height and was throwing out guns and all heavy gear to lighten the load.

The bomber had reached the Dutch border when Knight, realising it was impossible to go on, ordered the crew to bale out.

He remained at the controls until his crew of six others had jumped but the skipper had left it too late and went down with the burning bomber.

Johnson buried his parachute and walked until dawn before settling into the top of a haystack in a farmyard and sustaining himself with ‘escape kit’, condensed milk and chocolate. In the morning he removed all RAF uniform insignia and called on the farmer, whose family produced hot food.

The farmer equipped him with overalls and shaving gear and Johnson set off on a trek which was to take him through Holland, Belgium, France and Spain, before reaching home from Gibraltar.

In Holland, Johnson was helped on his way by a village policeman, who provided a suit, and members of the underground, who couriered him to Belgium and on to France. There he was sheltered in a Paris flat by a woman trading in black-market food.

Travelling on in a succession of trains Johnson neared the Pyrenees and cycled until, reaching the hills, he was guided by a smuggler into Spain, where he was picked up by a British embassy car and driven to Madrid.

After the war, Johnson re-joined his wife May (née Beckwith), who had moved from Leeds to Blackpool, where he became Sales Manager, and later Director of Sellers Fireplaces, which imported marble from Italy to market the popular line of fireplaces. They were married in 1936.

Edward Johnson died in Blackpool on 1st October 2002, aged 90.The Daily Telegraph obituary informed readers that he was survived by his son.

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From the Garton Archive: Item of Interest 52 Compiled by Peter Harrod

References

Lincoln School Admissions Register 1926-35

The Lincolnian magazines

The Daily Telegraph newspaper

www.ancestry.com

www.findmypast.com

www.dambustersblog.com

Acknowledgement

I am indebted to Ian Beckwith, a friend and former colleague at Bishop Grosseteste University, who kindly provided me with background information on Edward Johnson’s family.