soundnfury
Banned
Ch. 6: Into The Fire
Evening of 10th August 1941. RAF Coningsby, Lincolnshire.
As the green Very light curled upwards, the first vic of Mitchells opened their throttles and began to trundle forward over the grass airfield. (Fortunately for a Bomber Command that had yet to speckle the county with concrete runways, Lincolnshire in August does not get much rain.) Gradually picking up speed, the lumbering bombers strained their engines at max. revs., in the ponderous and protracted manner characteristic of the heavy bomber take-off. Far from the lightly-laden test flights of the previous weeks, these aircraft now were laden down with 8,000lb of bombs and over a thousand gallons of petrol. Even this was with the bomb cells left half-empty, to enable the planes to get airborne within the limited environs of the aerodrome; yet another reason for the planned runway-building programme. With five degrees of flap and six pounds of boost, the three bombers struggled into the air, and settled into the slow eastward climb. The Manchesters, being slower, had taken off some twenty minutes earlier, while the remaining Mitchell, P/O Ambleton's C-Charlie, was to depart for Hannover in another ten minutes' time.
The wingco, in D-Dog, was leading the vic, and F/O Kershaw was keeping his F-Freddie positioned on the starboard side. However, he knew Gibson was planning to drop down to low level for the attack (unlike the rest of the Squadron who bombed from 12,000ft like they were supposed to), so they wouldn't be maintaining this tidy formation over Germany. Still, they might as well stick together 'for moral support' until the glow of the sunset behind them faded. In the meantime he checked round his crew on the intercom. The rear-gunner had tested his guns and was already moaning about the cold; the wireless-op was winding out the trailing aerial; the flight-engineer was trying to synchronise the props; and the nav. was complaining about the bomb-aimer's map reading ("How am I supposed to get a drift if you can't even tell me where we crossed the coast?").
The route to Hamm and back had been roughly planned by Group, though each captain still had considerable freedom on the details. The bombers would make landfall at Rotterdam, then turn due east just before Eindhoven, taking them north of the Ruhr proper before steering 120° for the bombing run at Hamm. The return journey was to head north, round Münster, then westward to the southern extremity of the Zuyder Zee, jink north of Amsterdam, across the coast and set course for Lincolnshire. Straightforward sounding perhaps, but at night over blacked-out country, without electronic assistance, just finding the city would be an achievement.
~~~
Later that night. Near Cleves.
Now flying alone, F-Freddie was enveloped in darkness, albeit punctuated with brief flashes of light as flak burst nearby, and the occasional wandering pencil of a searchlight; also leavened by the light of the waning gibbous moon. The rear gunner noticed a series of flak shots approaching them from behind; in fact this was the tell-tale sign of radar-guided flak, but all the aircrew knew was that it was clearly Bad News, and Kershaw threw the Mitchell into a weaving turn, just a little too late as shrapnel from a flak shell rattled the aircraft. "Skipper to crew, damage report," he called over the intercom.
"The radio's gone for a Burton. Big blue sparks and everything," responded the excitable young wireless-op.
"Alright, calm down Jim. Any other damage?"
"I think we're ok skip," said the flight-engineer after a few moments, "bit close for comfort though."
The pilot continued weaving from side to side until clear of the Kammhuber line defences. To the south the Ruhr searchlights played over the scattered cloud; presently they picked up a bomber — clearly off course — soon afterwards seen to go down in flames. Meanwhile the bomb-aimer peered into the murky darkness, trying to recognise some kind of ground feature that might match anything on the map. In frustration the nav. put down his pencils and Dalton, and went forwards to take a look for himself. The glint of moonlight off a canal junction gave a useful navigational fix, which more-or-less matched the navigator's astro shots. "Six more minutes to the turning point, skip."
~~~
01:05 AM, 11th August 1941. The skies over Hannover.
P/O Ambleton, in C-Charlie, was pleased to see a fire ahead where the target should be. Only a small fire; it might be a decoy, but hopefully it was an oil tank; certainly it was the right colour, deep red and smoky. The Hannover force had flown out over the North Sea, crossing the coast between Juist and Nordeney islands, before skirting around the south side of Bremen. Finding the target successfully meant they would be on track on the way out, vital as the route snuck through the gap between Hamburg and Bremen.
The bomb-aimer took over in the time-honoured manner, with a "left-left" and a "steadyyyyy...", watching the ground fire move up his Mark IX bombsight. Then- "Bombs gone!" as C-Charlie's load, a mixture of 1,000lb MC and 500lb GP bombs, fell away. Still the agonising straight run continued, for C-Charlie was carrying a camera and the bombing photograph had to be taken. The flash went off just as another aircraft's stick of incendiaries straddled the (supposed) target, then with bombdoors closed and revs. up, the Mitchell banked to port and dived away on the first leg of the homeward journey.
A couple of single-engined fighters were spotted prowling around in the moonlight, but, too preoccupied with the basic business of night flying, they were unable to find the bombers passing through their Himmelbett boxes.
As C-Charlie crossed the coast, just west of Cuxhaven, her crew — about halfway through their first tour — breathed a sigh of relief at once more leaving behind the perils of Germany, and shared out the flask of hot coffee brought from base; like most crews, they were superstitious and considered drinking it earlier to be 'tempting fate'. Though they now began to look forward to touching down on terra firma, it would be some time yet before they did so; blown north by a strengthening wind, they would make landfall in Yorkshire and then slog southwards to base.
~~~
Diary of Cpl Cartwright (WAAF), entry dated 11/8.
5 Group Summary of Operations, 10-11 August 1941 (excerpt)
Evening of 10th August 1941. RAF Coningsby, Lincolnshire.
As the green Very light curled upwards, the first vic of Mitchells opened their throttles and began to trundle forward over the grass airfield. (Fortunately for a Bomber Command that had yet to speckle the county with concrete runways, Lincolnshire in August does not get much rain.) Gradually picking up speed, the lumbering bombers strained their engines at max. revs., in the ponderous and protracted manner characteristic of the heavy bomber take-off. Far from the lightly-laden test flights of the previous weeks, these aircraft now were laden down with 8,000lb of bombs and over a thousand gallons of petrol. Even this was with the bomb cells left half-empty, to enable the planes to get airborne within the limited environs of the aerodrome; yet another reason for the planned runway-building programme. With five degrees of flap and six pounds of boost, the three bombers struggled into the air, and settled into the slow eastward climb. The Manchesters, being slower, had taken off some twenty minutes earlier, while the remaining Mitchell, P/O Ambleton's C-Charlie, was to depart for Hannover in another ten minutes' time.
The wingco, in D-Dog, was leading the vic, and F/O Kershaw was keeping his F-Freddie positioned on the starboard side. However, he knew Gibson was planning to drop down to low level for the attack (unlike the rest of the Squadron who bombed from 12,000ft like they were supposed to), so they wouldn't be maintaining this tidy formation over Germany. Still, they might as well stick together 'for moral support' until the glow of the sunset behind them faded. In the meantime he checked round his crew on the intercom. The rear-gunner had tested his guns and was already moaning about the cold; the wireless-op was winding out the trailing aerial; the flight-engineer was trying to synchronise the props; and the nav. was complaining about the bomb-aimer's map reading ("How am I supposed to get a drift if you can't even tell me where we crossed the coast?").
The route to Hamm and back had been roughly planned by Group, though each captain still had considerable freedom on the details. The bombers would make landfall at Rotterdam, then turn due east just before Eindhoven, taking them north of the Ruhr proper before steering 120° for the bombing run at Hamm. The return journey was to head north, round Münster, then westward to the southern extremity of the Zuyder Zee, jink north of Amsterdam, across the coast and set course for Lincolnshire. Straightforward sounding perhaps, but at night over blacked-out country, without electronic assistance, just finding the city would be an achievement.
~~~
Later that night. Near Cleves.
Now flying alone, F-Freddie was enveloped in darkness, albeit punctuated with brief flashes of light as flak burst nearby, and the occasional wandering pencil of a searchlight; also leavened by the light of the waning gibbous moon. The rear gunner noticed a series of flak shots approaching them from behind; in fact this was the tell-tale sign of radar-guided flak, but all the aircrew knew was that it was clearly Bad News, and Kershaw threw the Mitchell into a weaving turn, just a little too late as shrapnel from a flak shell rattled the aircraft. "Skipper to crew, damage report," he called over the intercom.
"The radio's gone for a Burton. Big blue sparks and everything," responded the excitable young wireless-op.
"Alright, calm down Jim. Any other damage?"
"I think we're ok skip," said the flight-engineer after a few moments, "bit close for comfort though."
The pilot continued weaving from side to side until clear of the Kammhuber line defences. To the south the Ruhr searchlights played over the scattered cloud; presently they picked up a bomber — clearly off course — soon afterwards seen to go down in flames. Meanwhile the bomb-aimer peered into the murky darkness, trying to recognise some kind of ground feature that might match anything on the map. In frustration the nav. put down his pencils and Dalton, and went forwards to take a look for himself. The glint of moonlight off a canal junction gave a useful navigational fix, which more-or-less matched the navigator's astro shots. "Six more minutes to the turning point, skip."
~~~
01:05 AM, 11th August 1941. The skies over Hannover.
P/O Ambleton, in C-Charlie, was pleased to see a fire ahead where the target should be. Only a small fire; it might be a decoy, but hopefully it was an oil tank; certainly it was the right colour, deep red and smoky. The Hannover force had flown out over the North Sea, crossing the coast between Juist and Nordeney islands, before skirting around the south side of Bremen. Finding the target successfully meant they would be on track on the way out, vital as the route snuck through the gap between Hamburg and Bremen.
The bomb-aimer took over in the time-honoured manner, with a "left-left" and a "steadyyyyy...", watching the ground fire move up his Mark IX bombsight. Then- "Bombs gone!" as C-Charlie's load, a mixture of 1,000lb MC and 500lb GP bombs, fell away. Still the agonising straight run continued, for C-Charlie was carrying a camera and the bombing photograph had to be taken. The flash went off just as another aircraft's stick of incendiaries straddled the (supposed) target, then with bombdoors closed and revs. up, the Mitchell banked to port and dived away on the first leg of the homeward journey.
A couple of single-engined fighters were spotted prowling around in the moonlight, but, too preoccupied with the basic business of night flying, they were unable to find the bombers passing through their Himmelbett boxes.
As C-Charlie crossed the coast, just west of Cuxhaven, her crew — about halfway through their first tour — breathed a sigh of relief at once more leaving behind the perils of Germany, and shared out the flask of hot coffee brought from base; like most crews, they were superstitious and considered drinking it earlier to be 'tempting fate'. Though they now began to look forward to touching down on terra firma, it would be some time yet before they did so; blown north by a strengthening wind, they would make landfall in Yorkshire and then slog southwards to base.
~~~
Diary of Cpl Cartwright (WAAF), entry dated 11/8.
On ops room duty again last night. Another Manchester, L Leather, lost an
engine and boomeranged about an hour after they set off. Always horrible
to have an empty space on the board in the morning; tonight it was Smith in
N Nuts. Relief later when we heard they'd ditched their damaged 'plane in
the Wash and were picked up pretty promptly by the coastguard. Saw them
arrive back on base this afternoon; they looked a good deal worse for wear.
~~~engine and boomeranged about an hour after they set off. Always horrible
to have an empty space on the board in the morning; tonight it was Smith in
N Nuts. Relief later when we heard they'd ditched their damaged 'plane in
the Wash and were picked up pretty promptly by the coastguard. Saw them
arrive back on base this afternoon; they looked a good deal worse for wear.
5 Group Summary of Operations, 10-11 August 1941 (excerpt)
Many a/c reported fires at Hannover; assessment is moderate damage to the
Deurag-Nerag refinery. (See Appendix for bombing photos.)
At Hamm scattered bombing; photos do not match crew claims, casting doubt
also on claims of crew not carrying cameras. However, several reports of
a large explosion confirm a claimed low-level attack on a munitions train
by CO 106 Sqn.
[...]
In total three a/c lost from 89 sorties dispatched, a rate of 3.37%.
Deurag-Nerag refinery. (See Appendix for bombing photos.)
At Hamm scattered bombing; photos do not match crew claims, casting doubt
also on claims of crew not carrying cameras. However, several reports of
a large explosion confirm a claimed low-level attack on a munitions train
by CO 106 Sqn.
[...]
In total three a/c lost from 89 sorties dispatched, a rate of 3.37%.
