alternatehistory.com
Owen Gordon
introducing a fictionnal character - Owen Gordon
For the need of my story I sometimes created fictionnal peoples. Owen Gordon is one of them
He is a Canadian with a rich, if not tragic, backstory. He will be a recurrent figure in the TL.
September 14, 1970
Unfortunately for NASA Lee Scherer memo had been quite prescient.
Six months later, in that fall of 1970, NASA administrator and sincere space enthusiast Tom Paine was leaving.
Apollo missions were canned, and Mars was farther than ever.
With the nuclear rocket program dying of a painful agony, all was left was a space shuttle to a space station – with the chemical tug in serious trouble.
The aerospace industry badly suffered from post - Apollo hangover.
Amid the chaos, Owen Gordon was working on Mcdonnell Douglas bid for the space shuttle.
Owen Gordon was forty-nine, and he worked for McDonnell Douglas. Born in Canada, he had fought WWII in England, flying 118th Squadron Spitfires against the Luftwaffe along Howard “Cowboy” Blatchford.
That he had survived the damn war had been a miracle. He was still paying the price, however; he still had nightmares, after all these years.
No. 487's role will bomb the power-station at Amsterdam and, at the same time, create a diversion for another raid by Douglas Bostons a few minutes later on the power-station at Ijmuiden.”
The New Zealand bomber crews of 487 Squadron assembled for briefing shortly after noon on a day of blue skies and warm sunshine – one of those late spring days when it was good to be alive in England - perfect flying weather and every prospect of a successful mission.
There was no questions, nor any doubt expressed. The crews were just brave.
A little farther on another airfield Owen Gordon rapidly walked around its Spitfire. The elegant nose pointed toward the sky, menacing, the gracious elliptical wings a marking contrast.
The Spitfires from many squadrons joined the ramrod raid over Coltishall, now a powerful formation of fighters and bombers.
They crossed the coast and Gordon felt adrenaline surge as he saw England disappearing.
They were literally skimming the waves to avoid detection by German radars.
No less than six squadrons of Spitfires had been committed to protect a handful of bombers. Crew from New Zealands were manning the bombers - Lockheed Venturas. Unfortunately the Ventura was a very bad bomber for the simple reason it had been build as submarine hunter, not daylight bomber.
After long minutes they approached the Netherlands coast. And then all of sudden the sky filled with tailed-swastikas aircrafts.
The Spitfires were outnumbered from the beginning.
The hell ! How do they knew ? Gordon thought.
And then he remembered.
There had been two more squadrons of Spitfires flying ahead of the raid; the bastards had probably flown too high – maybe in the vain hope of catching the Luftwaffe per surprise ?
Whatever, now the Bandits had been alerted.
In his radio he could heard Blatchford trying to call the Venturas back, to no avail. Scores of Focke-Wulf 190, with 109s shooting the Venturas, filled the sky.
The first pass disabled a Ventura out of the formation with both engine smoking. Undisturbed, the bombers just closed ranks to concentrate the fire of their unefficient defensive machine-guns and continued to the target.
He couldn’t believe it, although he knew Howard Trent reputation. The New Zealander pilot leading the pack of Venturas, Trent was no coward. Gordon knew that under Trent leadership the bombers would press to the target whatever happened, even the worse.
We can’t let them alone.
He manoeuvred in protection of the bombers, and others Spitfires joined him, out of the inferno.
For a fraction of second he could see a Focke-Wulf dive to the ground, trailing smoke.
And they continued toward Amsterdam. Gordon had never seen so much Luftwaffe fighters. Even a Ventura scored, crippling a silly 109 with its nose machine guns.
Then, with another 109 in his tail Gordon had to fight back and inevitably lost contact with the bombers.
He managed to shot down its assaulter, then glanced at its fuel gauge, which level was alarmingly low.
He was now alone in the hostile sky, and dived to the ground and security.
As he crossed the coast back, he joined a formation of Spitfires on their way home. He was horrified to see no bombers with them.
A call in the radio told him that Blatchford had been seen limping back. He briefly saw an aircraft impacting the sea. No parachute in sight, as far as he could tell.
The first Canadian to score in WWII, Howard Blatchford, was dead.
Gordon machine had been crippled in the fight, but was still airworthy. He limped back to the base.
And still the Venturas wee nowhere to be seen.
He had no clue of their fate until the next day. He was told that they had continued to the target without a fighter cover, the Venturas falling out of the sky one-by-one until, well, none was left.
The whole raid and a whole squadron of bombers had just been wipped out.
A single machine ultimately returned, the one he had seen, the first to be attacked. It meant that no bomber having make it to the target returned to told its story. And that included Howard Trent.
He insisted to meet the lone survivor, and drove to the 487 squadron airfield. The lone damaged Ventura, crippled, battered, had been pushed aside. Around were the empty slots of those that would never return. The surviving pilot was devastated, most of its crew dead or badly hurt.
Later he would learn that, unknown to the raid planners, the German defences had been reinforced because of high-level officials present in Amsterdam this day. Blatchford call to the Venturas had not been heard.
The reason was that the bombers were too close from each others, the mass of their metallic frames obscuring the radio signal. The bombers had flown so close to each others to try to protect mutually by crossing their defensive fire.
Considering the squadron ultimate fate, it made for an extremely bitter irony, typical of tragic war stories.
Not even three decades later.
Not even after another trauma in his life - the abrupt end of Avro Canada and the Arrow project.
The Arrow fiasco was only the tip of a much bigger iceberg. It was as if Gordon beloved native country could not decide whether it wanted to become an aerospace giant or not.
They had all the resources; they had build superb machines, but too often the projects had been canned at the prototype stage, sometimes for the wrong reasons.
Gordon remembered the passionate debate about whether his native country should build its own satellite launch vehicle or simply bought rides on American boosters.
So far the question had remained unsettled - they had not even been able to decide whether or not to build Scout under licence, damn them. Poor John Chapman.
"We do not consider that Canada should attempt at this time to provide satellite launch vehicles to meet all program needs."
"What are these programs, Mr Chapman ?"
"These fall into 2 categories, launchers for small (100-lb) scientific spacecraft, and for large (500- to 1000-lb) spacecraft in earth-synchronous orbits.
The small scientific spacecraft consists of an indigenous remote sensing orbital platform known as the Canadian earth resources evaluation satellite.
The satellite small size and weight might be satisfied with Gerald Bull HARP gun launcher, a vehicle formed of clustered Black Brant rockets, or we could build simply build American Scout rockets under licence."
"Certainly we could do that; however development of a Canadian launcher of the Scout class is not an overly ambitious undertaking for a country which already is producing and launching multi-stage sounding rockets of the Black Brant type.
The progression from sounding rockets to satellite launchers is fundamentally one of providing the necessary guidance and control to incline the flight path horizontally and insert a payload into orbit. The basic elements already exist of rocket motor technology, staging design and a launch and tracking complex at Churchill."
"Fine, Mr Chapman, but, further degrading the Scout's applicability by that time is the fact that communications satellites are essentially the only type of satellite Canada plan to launch between 1969 and 1979.
They are too large for the Scout to lift and require much greater and more stable insertion orbits than the small four-stage rocket can achieve.
"Thus a much larger vehicle is needed to place a large spacecraft in synchronous orbit at 22,300-mile altitude - something of the order of the Atlas-Agena, a large liquid- fueled vehicle. And there, an indigenous development is out of question, for many reasons.
Canada's need for these vehicles could most logically be met by buying rockets from those countries which have them if the numbers needed are small, or by manufacture in Canada, under licence if need be, for larger numbers. Such a course might be financially most reasonable, other things being equal.
In our view, it will be necessary to purchase launches for communications satellites for at least the next decade. These will have to be obtained from one of the countries having these facilities, presumably either the US, or the European consortium ELDO. These will have to be obtained on the best financial and technical terms possible."
New Zealand 487th squadron crew, 1943. Those guys were BRAVE.
For the need of my story I sometimes created fictionnal peoples. Owen Gordon is one of them
He is a Canadian with a rich, if not tragic, backstory. He will be a recurrent figure in the TL. September 14, 1970
Unfortunately for NASA Lee Scherer memo had been quite prescient.
Six months later, in that fall of 1970, NASA administrator and sincere space enthusiast Tom Paine was leaving.
Apollo missions were canned, and Mars was farther than ever.
With the nuclear rocket program dying of a painful agony, all was left was a space shuttle to a space station – with the chemical tug in serious trouble.
The aerospace industry badly suffered from post - Apollo hangover.
Amid the chaos, Owen Gordon was working on Mcdonnell Douglas bid for the space shuttle.
Owen Gordon was forty-nine, and he worked for McDonnell Douglas. Born in Canada, he had fought WWII in England, flying 118th Squadron Spitfires against the Luftwaffe along Howard “Cowboy” Blatchford.
That he had survived the damn war had been a miracle. He was still paying the price, however; he still had nightmares, after all these years.
That fateful day...
May 3, 1943. Just another day in an horrible, never-ending war (this is a true story I red many years ago, and it shook me deeply. WWII bomber crews were BRAVE)
“Today you will take part in a series of attacks designed to help the Dutch Resistance Movement and encourage Dutch workers in strikes then being organised in defiance of the Germans. May 3, 1943. Just another day in an horrible, never-ending war (this is a true story I red many years ago, and it shook me deeply. WWII bomber crews were BRAVE)
No. 487's role will bomb the power-station at Amsterdam and, at the same time, create a diversion for another raid by Douglas Bostons a few minutes later on the power-station at Ijmuiden.”
The New Zealand bomber crews of 487 Squadron assembled for briefing shortly after noon on a day of blue skies and warm sunshine – one of those late spring days when it was good to be alive in England - perfect flying weather and every prospect of a successful mission.
There was no questions, nor any doubt expressed. The crews were just brave.
A little farther on another airfield Owen Gordon rapidly walked around its Spitfire. The elegant nose pointed toward the sky, menacing, the gracious elliptical wings a marking contrast.
The Spitfires from many squadrons joined the ramrod raid over Coltishall, now a powerful formation of fighters and bombers.
They crossed the coast and Gordon felt adrenaline surge as he saw England disappearing.
They were literally skimming the waves to avoid detection by German radars.
No less than six squadrons of Spitfires had been committed to protect a handful of bombers. Crew from New Zealands were manning the bombers - Lockheed Venturas. Unfortunately the Ventura was a very bad bomber for the simple reason it had been build as submarine hunter, not daylight bomber.
After long minutes they approached the Netherlands coast. And then all of sudden the sky filled with tailed-swastikas aircrafts.
The Spitfires were outnumbered from the beginning.
The hell ! How do they knew ? Gordon thought.
And then he remembered.
There had been two more squadrons of Spitfires flying ahead of the raid; the bastards had probably flown too high – maybe in the vain hope of catching the Luftwaffe per surprise ?
Whatever, now the Bandits had been alerted.
In his radio he could heard Blatchford trying to call the Venturas back, to no avail. Scores of Focke-Wulf 190, with 109s shooting the Venturas, filled the sky.
The first pass disabled a Ventura out of the formation with both engine smoking. Undisturbed, the bombers just closed ranks to concentrate the fire of their unefficient defensive machine-guns and continued to the target.
He couldn’t believe it, although he knew Howard Trent reputation. The New Zealander pilot leading the pack of Venturas, Trent was no coward. Gordon knew that under Trent leadership the bombers would press to the target whatever happened, even the worse.
We can’t let them alone.
He manoeuvred in protection of the bombers, and others Spitfires joined him, out of the inferno.
For a fraction of second he could see a Focke-Wulf dive to the ground, trailing smoke.
And they continued toward Amsterdam. Gordon had never seen so much Luftwaffe fighters. Even a Ventura scored, crippling a silly 109 with its nose machine guns.
Then, with another 109 in his tail Gordon had to fight back and inevitably lost contact with the bombers.
He managed to shot down its assaulter, then glanced at its fuel gauge, which level was alarmingly low.
He was now alone in the hostile sky, and dived to the ground and security.
As he crossed the coast back, he joined a formation of Spitfires on their way home. He was horrified to see no bombers with them.
A call in the radio told him that Blatchford had been seen limping back. He briefly saw an aircraft impacting the sea. No parachute in sight, as far as he could tell.
The first Canadian to score in WWII, Howard Blatchford, was dead.
Gordon machine had been crippled in the fight, but was still airworthy. He limped back to the base.
And still the Venturas wee nowhere to be seen.
He had no clue of their fate until the next day. He was told that they had continued to the target without a fighter cover, the Venturas falling out of the sky one-by-one until, well, none was left.
The whole raid and a whole squadron of bombers had just been wipped out.
A single machine ultimately returned, the one he had seen, the first to be attacked. It meant that no bomber having make it to the target returned to told its story. And that included Howard Trent.
He insisted to meet the lone survivor, and drove to the 487 squadron airfield. The lone damaged Ventura, crippled, battered, had been pushed aside. Around were the empty slots of those that would never return. The surviving pilot was devastated, most of its crew dead or badly hurt.
Later he would learn that, unknown to the raid planners, the German defences had been reinforced because of high-level officials present in Amsterdam this day. Blatchford call to the Venturas had not been heard.
The reason was that the bombers were too close from each others, the mass of their metallic frames obscuring the radio signal. The bombers had flown so close to each others to try to protect mutually by crossing their defensive fire.
Considering the squadron ultimate fate, it made for an extremely bitter irony, typical of tragic war stories.
I left them alone. I should have protected them at all cost. We send these crews to their death.[/FONT]
He had never forget. Not even three decades later.
Not even after another trauma in his life - the abrupt end of Avro Canada and the Arrow project.
The Arrow fiasco was only the tip of a much bigger iceberg. It was as if Gordon beloved native country could not decide whether it wanted to become an aerospace giant or not.
They had all the resources; they had build superb machines, but too often the projects had been canned at the prototype stage, sometimes for the wrong reasons.
Gordon remembered the passionate debate about whether his native country should build its own satellite launch vehicle or simply bought rides on American boosters.
So far the question had remained unsettled - they had not even been able to decide whether or not to build Scout under licence, damn them. Poor John Chapman.
"We do not consider that Canada should attempt at this time to provide satellite launch vehicles to meet all program needs."
"What are these programs, Mr Chapman ?"
"These fall into 2 categories, launchers for small (100-lb) scientific spacecraft, and for large (500- to 1000-lb) spacecraft in earth-synchronous orbits.
The small scientific spacecraft consists of an indigenous remote sensing orbital platform known as the Canadian earth resources evaluation satellite.
The satellite small size and weight might be satisfied with Gerald Bull HARP gun launcher, a vehicle formed of clustered Black Brant rockets, or we could build simply build American Scout rockets under licence."
"Certainly we could do that; however development of a Canadian launcher of the Scout class is not an overly ambitious undertaking for a country which already is producing and launching multi-stage sounding rockets of the Black Brant type.
The progression from sounding rockets to satellite launchers is fundamentally one of providing the necessary guidance and control to incline the flight path horizontally and insert a payload into orbit. The basic elements already exist of rocket motor technology, staging design and a launch and tracking complex at Churchill."
"Fine, Mr Chapman, but, further degrading the Scout's applicability by that time is the fact that communications satellites are essentially the only type of satellite Canada plan to launch between 1969 and 1979.
They are too large for the Scout to lift and require much greater and more stable insertion orbits than the small four-stage rocket can achieve.
"Thus a much larger vehicle is needed to place a large spacecraft in synchronous orbit at 22,300-mile altitude - something of the order of the Atlas-Agena, a large liquid- fueled vehicle. And there, an indigenous development is out of question, for many reasons.
Canada's need for these vehicles could most logically be met by buying rockets from those countries which have them if the numbers needed are small, or by manufacture in Canada, under licence if need be, for larger numbers. Such a course might be financially most reasonable, other things being equal.
In our view, it will be necessary to purchase launches for communications satellites for at least the next decade. These will have to be obtained from one of the countries having these facilities, presumably either the US, or the European consortium ELDO. These will have to be obtained on the best financial and technical terms possible."
New Zealand 487th squadron crew, 1943. Those guys were BRAVE.
- Archibald
- Word Count: 1.7k