Lt. Jack Watson 303rd BG. – From Villain to Hero.

The end of training flights in the Second World War in the quiet and blue skies of the United States, were occasionally ‘celebrated’ with flyovers and ‘buzzing’ of the home town of family or girl friends. Whilst this unofficial activity was frowned upon, in general, a blind eye was turned by Commanding Officers of the various Groups. However, one such activity was not taken quite so lightly, and almost led to the end of a promising career before it had even started.

At RAF Molesworth (Station 107) not far from Huntingdon, Cambridgeshire, the 303rd Bomb Group (BG) had been serving the Allied offensive since mid September 1942. They had taken heavy casualties after participating in many prestige missions including the disastrous August and October raids on the ball-bearing plant at Schweinfurt. The invincibility of the heavily armed B-17 was very quickly shown to be a myth.

After a period of calm, primarily due to persistent bad weather rather than any  significant strategic military decision, the USAAF was allowed unofficial time to recuperate, rebuild and rearm. During this period, new recruits and aircraft poured into the United Kingdom via either the Northern or the Southern transit routes over the Atlantic Ocean.

On one of these aircraft was Lt. Jack Watson, a ‘green’ pilot’ who had recently completed his training, and was now on his way to fight in a war a long way from his Indianapolis home.

A fresh faced 2nd Lt. Jack Watosn who bravely brought home his burning and crippled B-17 bomber after ordering his crew to bail out. (IWM UPL 32160)

On eventual arrival at Molesworth, Lt. Watson was soon to experience for himself the horrors and reality of war. On January 11th 1944, he was part of a 291 bomber force attacking both the FW190 production factory as Oschersleben and the Junkers factory at Halberstadt, Germany. On what became one of the blackest days for the Group, eleven out of the forty aircraft dispatched were lost, an attrition rate of just over 25%, which was also the highest loss of the entire force.

On the inward flight, the weather, which had dogged much of the winter, closed in over the continent.  A recall message was sent out, the 2nd and 3rd Divisions turning for home, but it was ignored by Brigadier General Robert F. Travis, 1st Bombardment Division Commander in the lead plane – ‘The Eight Ball‘. Original orders were to bomb by visual methods but if cloud cover prevailed then pathfinder Liberators  were to mark the target.

As the weather had deteriorated, cloud being present as high as 24,000 feet, fighter cover was all but withdrawn. The bombers were now virtually on their own and much smaller in number.

Alerted early on, the Luftwaffe had managed to form an enormous welcoming party for the now weakened force. It would be the strongest collection of Luftwaffe aircraft since the October raids, and it was waiting, eager for blood.

The first contact between the two forces was made over the shallow waters of the  Zuiderzee on the inward flight. A collection of rocket-firing fighters launched a gruesome attack on the lead section of the 303rd, an attack that lasted for several hours and took out numerous aircraft.

From the Initial point (IP) to the target, flak was light but accurate, more aircraft took hits and further damage was sustained by the formation. Those bombers that did get through managed to bomb the target, the accuracy of which was considered ‘excellent’.

On the return flight  B-17F #42-29524 ‘Meat Hound‘, piloted by Lt. Jack Watson was attacked again by waves of enemy fighters who zoned in on the bomber and its supporting formation. With many aircraft now crippled, the B-17s were easy targets for the fierce and determined Luftwaffe defenders.

Lt. Watson’s aircraft, (a B-17F-55-BO, which had previously been assigned to the 306th BG transferring to the 303rd in July 1943), was hit hard over Durgerdam. The damage looked terminal, two engines were on fire, there was substantial damage around the wing root and the left elevator had been shot completely off. With such damage, not only was the aircraft difficult to control but it was losing vital airspeed and altitude as well.

Lt Watson, gave the bail out order, holding the aircraft steady until all the crew had departed. Lt. Watson, who had by then put the aircraft on automatic pilot, was himself preparing to jump, but the thought of the cold waters below forced his retreat to the cockpit and the challenge of getting home alone.

Of those who did jump, four fell into the Ijsselmeer and sadly drowned, and another four were caught by occupying forces and sent to POW camps. The ninth, Lt. Col. Clayton David, the Co-Pilot, managed to evade capture eventually making his way back to England. Clayton’s journey took him through Holland and Belgium and on into France, where he headed south, eventually crossing the Pyrenees into Spain. From there, he reached Gibraltar eventually returning to England in May 1944, four months after he was reported as ‘Missing in Action.’ For his efforts he received the Purple Heart*¹.

Lt. Watson, now alone in the crippled B-17 fought on, keeping the aircraft flying toward England. Once over home territory he brought the aircraft down through the thick cloud that had dogged so many of Britain’s airfields that winter, landing at RAF Metfield, an American Fighter airfield home at that time to the 353rd Fighter Group.

So severe was the fire on the aircraft that it took fire crews a considerable time to extinguish it. These crews were not only amazed to see just one crewman exit the aircraft, but also to find an unexploded shell sitting directly behind the pilots seat.

B-17 ‘Meat Hound‘ on the ground at Metfield, Suffolk after landing with two burning engines. The aircraft was subsequently written off and salvaged for usable parts.  (IWM UPL 32171).

On his arrival back at Molesworth, Lt Watson received a telegram sent by New York Mayor Fiorello LaGuardia, forgiving Watson for his villainous activity previously in late 1943.

It was at this time that Watson along with three other pilots; 2nd Lts. Robert Sheets, Elmer Young, and Joseph Wheeler, buzzed the World Series game between St. Louis Cardinals and the New York Yankees at the Yankee Stadium, New York. Mayor LaGuardia was so incensed by the action at the time, that he insisted Watson and the others be disciplined, court martial proceedings being instigated as soon as the four landed in Maine*².

However, it was not to be, the top brass needing every aircraft and crewman they could muster, sent the four on their way with a $75 fine and a stiff telling off!

Although tinged by the sad loss of his crew, the villain of the World Series’ Buzzing, had gone on to prove himself more than a worthy pilot, making history in more ways than one.

A Boeing B-17 ‘buzzes’ the Yankee stadium October 5th 1943. (Author unknown).*³

The crew of ‘Meat Hound‘ were:

Pilot – 2nd Lt. Jack Watson (Returned to Duty)
Co-Pilot – Lt Col. Clayton David (Evaded)
Navigator – 2nd Lt. John Leverton (POW)
Radio Operator –  Stf. Sgt. Harry Romaniec (KIA)
Bombardier – 2nd Lt. Vance Colvin (KIA)
Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner – Stf. Sgt. Sam Rowland (POW)
Right Waist Gunner – Sgt. William Fussner (KIA)
Left Waist Gunner – Gene Stewart (POW)
Tail Gunner – Sgt. Roman Kosinski (POW)
Ball Turret Gunner – Sgt. Fred Booth (KIA)

The B-17F, #42-29524, was delivered to Denver 31st December 1942; then assigned to the 423rd BS (306th BG) as ‘RD-D’ at Thurleigh 2nd March 1943. It was later transferred to the  358th BS (303rd BG) as ‘VK-K’ based at Molesworth on 30th July 1943.

For their efforts in this mission, the 303rd Bomb Group were awarded a Distinguished Unit Citation, the only time the entire unit achieved such an accolade.

This and other similar stories appears in Heroic tales of World War 2.

Sources and Further Reading.

Missing Air Crew Report 4269

*¹ Herald-Whig Obituaries Website accessed 27/5/19

*² 303rd BG website ‘Outfield Fly’ by Hap Rocketto accessed 27/5/19

*³ Photo appeared in ‘Old-Time Baseball Photos and Essays’, blogsite. accessed 27/5/19

Little Snoring hardly the quietest of airfields! (Part 4)

In Part 3 Little Snoring had seen some short stay visitors, it had been attacked by enemy bombers and a famous face had been posted here. The bad weather had played havoc with flying duties but the parties had more than made up for it. In the final part, the war draws to a close, the airfield declines eventually closing to military activity. But its not quite the end for this little airfield with a big, big history.

The dawn of 1945 brought more of the same with both squadrons remaining here until after the end of hostilities.

The Sunderland Cup, an annual award presented to the most efficient WAAF section within Bomber Command, finally came to Little Snoring in 1945. A prestigious award, it brought many dignitaries to the airfield including: Air Commodore R.G. Spencer, Group Captain B.R. O’B. Hoare, DSO., DFC., and Air Vice Marshal E.B. Addison, CB., CBE., Air Officer Commanding 100 Group.

The cup was presented by Group Officer C. Woodhead, Deputy Director WAAF. to Flight Officer C.L. Gallavan, officer in charge of the WAAF. Section at the airfield. It was a very proud moment for the ladies of the airfield.

A group of WAAF. officers photographed with the Sunderland Cup. L-R – Front: Flight Officer Kitson of RAD Chipping Warden, Squadron Officer Ford of 100 Group, Group Officer E.C. Bather of H.Q. Bomber Command; Group Officer C. Woodhead, Deputy Director W.A.A.F. Flight Officer C.L. Gallavan of Little Snoring. (© IWM. CH15776)

515 were finally disbanded on June 10th that year whilst 23 Squadron remained in situ until 25th September 1945. With the addition of 141 Squadron in July 1945, the last few months were much quieter operationally even though there were three squadrons on the base, During this time, a great change began in the structure of the Air Force, with crews being posted out to other squadrons and units, and surplus aircraft being put into storage. Operational records show a continuous list of ‘Operational Flying Hours – Nil’.

The new Mosquito NF XXXs began replacing the ‘old stock’ of Mosquitoes that had been so successful in the previous months and years. But these updated models, with their more sophisticated radars, were not to see any operational flights with these units.

Eventually in September 1945, flying officially ceased  and the airfield was soon reduced to care and maintenance. Given over to 274 Maintenance Unit it became a storage site designated as No 112 Storage Sub-Site.

Like other airfields in this area, it became the home for surplus Mosquitoes on their way to a sad ending under the choppers blade. Luckily for some though, their fate would not be so awful and they were fired up and flight tested ready for delivery to the Fleet Air Arm or alternative Air Forces overseas. Many sadly though, ended up as fire wood.

The Nissen huts, like many airfield huts, were used to accommodate civilians until such times as suitable housing became available locally. In July 1951, No. 2 Civilian Anti-Aircraft Cooperation Unit (CAACU) was formed here, and flying a collection of warbirds including a: Beaufighter TT 10 (RD781); Spitfire XVI (TD344); Mosquito TT.35 (TA633); Vampires FB.5  (WA117); FB.9 (WL573); T11 (WZ584); Oxfords and an Anson. These would take to the skies, operating over the Wash off the Lincolnshire / Norfolk coast. In 1953 they too pulled out though, the airfield becoming too run down to be operational.

At this point, the site was largely passed to civilian hands, what was left was used by the Americans to store their own surplus equipment and not for any flying activities. A short lived move that eventually led to the final closure and demise of the airfield.

Following sale of the site, a large number of buildings were demolished or taken away for use elsewhere. The officers’ mess – which housed four ornately and beautifully written honours and awards boards, painted by Douglas Higgins – was also demolished, but luckily, these were saved by a local woman and now reside in the base’s ‘official’ church, St. Andrew’s, on the west wall. Written in paint, they detail the awards and ‘kills’ of the various crew members stationed at Little Snoring. Just a short walk from the church is the village sign which depicts a Mosquito, often seen over the skies of Little Snoring all those years ago.

In 1957, the McAully Flying Club was established here as the Fakenham Flying Club headed by its founder Elwyn ‘Mac’ McAully who sadly lost his life three years later in a flying accident at the airfield.

Since its closure, the runways have virtually all been removed, with only a few remnants of concrete left existing; the northern threshold of the main runway being used to store gravel and other road material. The largest and best preserved examples are two of the original T2 hangars, both used to store farm produce. A blister hangar is also on site but thought not an original of Little Snoring. Private flying now occurs on the sole remaining part of the runway located to the west. Part of the perimeter track forms the public road on the boundary of the eastern side of the airfield, and a small number of buildings, mainly huts, exist in private gardens used as storage sheds. The local caravan site has what is believed to be the base hospital and / or mortuary now a washing block.

Little Snoring’s gem is its watch office, standing proud in the centre of the site, a lone wind sock fluttering from its walls. Run down and dilapidated, it is crying out for love and restoration, but I suspect this isn’t  going to happen and perhaps its days are very sadly numbered.

During its short operational life, twelve Lancasters and forty-three Mosquitoes were lost during missions over enemy territory and up until 2018, there existed no ‘official’ memorial in memory of these tragic losses. In July,  the Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust placed an airfield marker on the western end of the site, just beyond the runway’s threshold, that omission has at least been corrected.

The base commander, ‘glass eyed’ Group Captain ‘Bertie’ Rex O’Bryan Hoare (Sammy) was a known character and has been mentioned in a number of books discussing night intruder missions. He was a very successful Mosquito pilot  and looked up to by his fellow pilots. A superbly detailed account of him appears in ‘The Snoring Villages‘ and is certainly worth a read. He sadly died in an air accident in 1947 in Singapore.

Little Snoring was by far a sleepy airfield. Those who were stationed here made the best use of what they had, and when the cold winter weather put paid to operational activities, recreational ‘sorties’ took over and the airfield came to life in other ways. Operationally, Little Snoring played a huge part in intruder operations, strafing airfields and interfering with German Night Fighter operations. Even Adolf Galland in his book ‘The First and the Last‘ acknowledges the extent to which 100 Group went to “set really difficult problems for the German Night Fighter Command”. A true accolade to any wartime airfield and the men and women who worked there.

Sources and further reading 

*¹ National Archives AIR 27/890/15; AIR 27/890/16; AIR 27/1094/17; AIR 27/288/11; AIR 27/1981/31

*² Ward C., & Smith S. “3 Group Bomber Command An Operational Record” Pen and Sword, 2008

*³ This is taken from the official Squadron Operational records, other sources including Chorley’s Bomber Command Losses state the crash was near to Broughton near Huntingdon.

*⁴ Bowman, M., “Battle of Berlin: Bomber Command over the Third Reich, 1943–1945” 2020, page 297 Pen and Sword (accessed via google books) 

Galland, A., “The First and and the Last“. Methuen & Co., London, 1955

The four award and honours boards in St. Andrew’s Church can be seen on the Flickr page.

A personal recollection of life at Little Snoring can be heard via the International Bomber Command Website.

The full story can be seen in Trail 22.

Little Snoring hardly the quietest of airfields! (Part 3)

In Part 2, 115 Squadron moved away from Little Snoring and the Electronic Warfare Group 100 Group took over. With that came a new type of aircraft, the Mosquito, operating as night intruders attacking enemy night fighters at their airfield. In this part, we see more new faces, a small detachment arrives, and a famous face is posted in.

The first of these new faces would appear over March and April, a small section comprising of only three aircraft (believed to be just two P-51s and a P-38) flying in American colours for training and trials with 100 Group. On March 24th, one of these aircraft would take part, somewhat unofficially, in the raid over Berlin. Flown by Major Tom Gates, he managed to get his name added to the operations board for that night, taking a P-51 to Berlin and back. During this epic flight, he apparently strayed over the Ruhr but the German anti-aircraft gunners failed to bring him down and he returned to Little Snoring unscathed by the first of several such experiences.*⁴

During mid April, Little Snoring was itself the subject of an attack from Luftwaffe aircraft, these intruders following the bomber stream home from a Serrate mission over Tergnier. According to operational records, the attack consisted of scattered bombs and cannon fire which caused no major damage nor casualties.

Another new face, this time for 515 Sqn, was that of Sqn. Ldr. Harold B. ‘Mick’ Martin of 617 Sqn fame, pilot of Lancaster ‘P – Poppsie‘. Whilst at 515 Sqn Martin would excel as a Mosquito pilot, strafing airfields, trains, railway yards and a flying boat base all in one night. He is also accredited with the shooting down of an unidentified aircraft and an Me 410.

But the bad luck that had shadowed Little Snoring crews would have the final say, when on April 11th, Mosquito DD783 flown by F.O. H. Stephen and F.O. A. Clifton spun from what was thought to have been a low level roll that went wrong. The manoeuvre led to a stall and spin at a height between 2,000 and 3,000 feet. Both airmen were sadly killed in the crash, the only 169 Sqn airmen to lose their lives whilst at the airfield.

Finally on June 4th 1944, both 169 Sqn and 1692 (Radar Development) Flight departed Little Snoring for pastures new. The move, hours before the D-Day landings being more than coincidental. The 3rd and 4th were given over to packing and moving equipment to Great Massingham, and only one early morning sortie was planned, but it had to be cut short when the aircraft developed engine trouble and hour or so into its flight over France.

With that, the two squadrons moved out and began to prepare for early morning flights over the Normandy coast in the early hours of June 6th 1944. Their short time at Little Snoring had been far from noteworthy, other than to say how badly the weather and lack of serviceable aircraft had dogged their early flying days.

515 Squadron who had moved onto the airfield just days after 169, would now be joined by 23 Sqn, also flying the Mosquito VI.   Both these squadrons would concentrate on enemy night fighter airfields, seeking them out and destroying enemy aircraft on the ground, a low level intruder role that 23 Sqn had performed well in the Middle East.

The watch office now derelict and forlorn.

The summer arrival brought a little light relief to those at Little Snoring. 23 Sqn who had arrived in two parties via Liverpool and Gourock, had previously been at Alghero in Sardinia. Their journey had not been the delight they would have wished for,  both ferries, the Strathnaver and the SS Moolton, being held outside the ports for over four days before staff were allowed to disembark. However, once at the airfield, seven days leave was granted and the majority of personnel left for London and a week’s recreation.

Training flights, night flying practise and target practice then filled their time with both squadrons taking part in firing practise over the Holbeach Range on the Wash. Compasses were swung on the aircraft and low flying became the immediate focus. Those crews undertaking night flying were amazed at the number of lights displayed at British airfields, the 23 Sqn adjutant describing them as ‘Pansy’ when referring to the Drem lighting system employed at many airfields at this time.

Sadly the poor weather returned and yet again many flights were cancelled at the last minute. Instead parties were held, and great merriment once again fell over the airfield.

On 5th June, ten sorties were carried out over night by 515 Sqn Mosquitoes. Airfields at Montdider, Rossieres, Ardorf, Varal and Marx being targeted. Further patrols were carried out over Wunstorf, Celle, Creil, Beavis and Courmeilles with bombs being dropped on some and vehicles set on fire at others. A road bridge and barge were attacked on the Vecht Canal and airfields at Twente and Plant Lunns were patrolled by two more Mosquitoes. Further patrols and attacks were undertaken using a variety of HE bombs and incendiaries. Other vehicles were also set on fire during these intruder raids. Two aircraft flown by, Sqn. Ldr. Shaw (the Flight Commander) and Sgt. Standley Smith (a/c 950), along with Flt. Lt. Butterfield and Sgt. Drew (a/c 189), took off from Little Snoring but neither were ever heard from again and were recorded as missing in action.

The remainder of June involved much the same, poor weather hampering night flying but where the squadron was able to get airborne, 515 patrolled numerous enemy airfields, attacking goods trains and destroying a small number of enemy aircraft. Some He 111s and Ju 88s were amongst those destroyed whilst attempting to take off. The month ended with 515 crews undertaking in excess of 415 hours night flying time and 48 hour daylight flying.

23 Sqn meanwhile were suffering the same disappointments with the weather, although this did not spoil the merriment, the adjutant reporting several parties occurring whilst the remainder of leave was taken and the last of the crews arrived from abroad. Some night sorties did take place, again trains were attacked and several airfields were bombed. A small number of aircraft were seen and attacked with some resulting in ‘kills’.

A small number of the Mosquitoes of both squadrons were modified to carry ASH, the American built airborne interception (AI) radars. By the end of the year training on the new equipment was in full swing as were the parties!

December brought a devastating blow for 23 squadron though, with the loss of their Commanding Officer W.Com. A. M. Murphy DFO, DFC and C de G with Palm. He had been in charge of 23 Sqn for almost a year and was both liked and respected by all those in the squadron. Air-sea patrols were carried out by the squadron in conjunction with the Air Sea Rescue Service but nothing was found of him, his aircraft, nor his navigator Flt. Sgt. Douglas Darbon. That night, the squadron was stood down and on the following day a party was held in which many attended from lunch time to well into the night – few were seen before lunch the following day. Within a few days, Murphy’s navigator took a turn for the worst, and applied for a posting out of the squadron. Much to his disappointment though he was offered an Operational Training Unit (OTU), a move he did not wish for nor relish.

On the 9th December a little lightheartedness crept into the squadron when two Canadian aircrew landed at the wrong base by mistake. Only when they were down did they realise their mistake and were immediately awarded the M.H.D.O.I.F. The adjutant doesn’t explain the acronym, but it is likely to be something derogatory!

The number of sorties being performed by the crews in 23 Sqn were reflected in their departures. With seven crews with between 50 and 65 flights on their logs, they were all lost as tour expired, the lack of crews now becoming an issue at the airfield.

The poor weather returned once more closing down the station on several occasions. More training mean that December had been the ‘heaviest’ training month since the squadron arrived in the UK. 23 Squadron’s first ASH sortie had to be scrubbed on the night of 18th, and was followed by the inevitable party and poker.

The 22nd saw two aircraft manage to get off the ground. Unfortunately these ASH equipped aircraft had no luck in seeking out the enemy. A Lancaster diverted from its own airfield made an appearance at the airfield on Christmas Eve and the crews were treated to one of Little Snoring’s magnificent parties, a party that needless to say, went on well into Christmas Day.

The squadron remained stood down for several days, but as December drew to a close further ASH equipped aircraft took part in sorties over occupied Europe. The year ended on a positive note though, and although the squadron had lost many experienced and well liked crews, they were looking forward to better weather and more operational flying.

In the last part, the war draws to a close, the military eventually pull out leaving the airfield to nature and new owners. Although there is no more military action, it is not yet the end of flying. Little Snoring is to live on for some time yet.

The full story can be seen in Trail 22.

Little Snoring hardly the quietest of airfields! (Part 2)

In Part 1, we saw how Little Snoring developed,  taking on the Lancasters of 115 Squadron with the radial engined MK.II aircraft. In this next part, they soon depart and ownership of the site takes a change and with it comes new aircraft, anew crews and a new role.

September for 115 Sqn would be much of the same for those stationed at the airfield. More training flights, interspersed with operations to Germany. As with other months, September would see further losses for the squadron. On September 6th, DS658 piloted by F/O. R. Barnes, ran off the runway on return from operations, the aircraft was so severely damaged it was considered beyond repair and used for spares. The crew fared much better though, with none receiving any injuries in the accident. A second incident occurred on the 14th when during crew trials on a new aircraft, the bomb sight jammed resulting  in the pilot being unable to maintain level flight. After ordering the crew into crash positions, the aircraft struck a bank a few miles from RAF Downham Market near to Magdalen station.  Six of the eight on board were killed, the two survivors sustaining serious injuries.

During this month, the HCU that had joined 115 Sqn at Little Snoring received a new posting, they would depart the airfield moving on to RAF Foulsham where they would carry on their role of training pilots for the Lancaster.

An air-raid shelter protected the personnel from attack.

In October, further operations to Kassel and mine laying in the West Frisians were badly affected due to six of the twelve aircraft being unable to take off. The first was affected by one of the air crew suffering airsickness; the second suffered a burst tyre which left it stranded on the perimeter’s edge; a third got bogged down in the mud trying to pass this one and three more got stuck behind these unable to pass or turn. The remainder of the aircraft got away safely though, and although carrying out operations satisfactorily, they encountered electrical storms over the target area which hampered the equipment on board. All these crews returned safely and there were no further mishaps

On November 7th, a near catastrophe was luckily avoided after Lancaster DS825 crashed on take off after one of its engines cut out part-way down the runway. After inducing a violent swing the bomber crashed causing its other engines to catch fire. Luckily there were no explosions and all the crew managed to escape the wreckage unhurt.

115’s last operation from Little Snoring would take place on November 23rd 1943, the day prior to its departure for RAF Witchford. Twelve Lancasters, six from both ‘A’ and ‘B’ Flights, lined up and revved their engines to take off speed departing once more for Berlin. With them  they took the usual mix of incendiaries and ‘cookies’, all destined to fall on Berlin’s streets. Two aircraft failed to take off and two returned early; one due to a faulty Gee set and the other a faulty air speed indicator. One of the returning aircraft dropped its payload on Texil, the other safely on unoccupied land before turning for home.  The remainder of the squadron continued on and successfully completed the operation, the attack being considered ‘satisfactory’.

With that, 115 Sqn’s time at Little Snoring had come to an end, departing the next day for RAF Witchford where it would continue the brave fight over Nazi Germany. On their arrival at Witchford, a new flight was immediately formed, ‘C’ Flight, and as a result new crew members would soon arrive.  Little Snoring meanwhile was about to see some major changes itself, not only in personnel and aircraft, but ownership as well.

On December 8th 1943, the station became the charge of 100 Group, the Electronic Warfare Group who had taken up residency elsewhere in this part of Norfolk.

100 Group were the last operational Bomber Command Group to be formed during the war, with a clearly defined role which was to provide night intruder support for bombing operations, and was headed by Air Commodore Edward Addison.  Like their counterparts at Great Massingham, Foulsham, North Creake, West Raynham and Sculthorpe amongst others, they would take part in electronic warfare and counter measures against enemy fighter operations. 100 Group, investigated a wide range of devises suitable for tracking, homing in on, or jamming enemy radars. With a wide rage of names; “Airborne Cigar“, “Jostle“, “Mandrel“, “Airborne Grocer“, “Carpet” and “Piperack“, they used both “Serrate” and “ASH” to attack the enemy on their own airfield at night before they could intercept the allied bombers.

With its takeover of Little Snoring, came 169 Sqn who had only been formed at Ayr just two months before. They received the Mosquito II, the remarkable twin engined beast from de-Havilland which was to perform well in its new role as Night Intruder. In support, came 1692 (Radar Development) Flight, also know as the (Bomber Support Training) Flight from RAF Drem, also in Scotland.

A few days later the two units were joined by a third squadron, 515 Sqn from RAF Hunsdon also with the Mosquito II and VI, and Bristol’s Beaufighter IIF.  All three would work in the area of Electronic warfare.

169’s departure from Ayr was marked with a very ‘successful’ party in the corporal’s mess, with contributions of £1.00 from officers and 2/- from non-commissioned ranks. The beer flowed well into the night, with many trying their rather shaky hands on the piano. Regular rallying on the squadron hunting horn brought the party goers back together and ensured the party spirit was maintained and kept going well into the night.

Norfolk’s wet and miserable weather greeted the personnel as they arrived over the next few days here at Little Snoring. Once they settled in, training flights were scheduled but many of these had to be cancelled due to the continuing rain and fog,

With talks by staff from Rolls Royce on engine handling and another on Bomber Command Operations and Tactics, December’s poor weather provided little time for flying. A reconnaissance was made of the Norwich pubs, and parties became the order of the day, Christmas leave was arranged and various quarters were decorated. As the mood lasted well into the New Year, the war had at least for now, come to a standstill.

On January 5th 1944, the monotony was broken when thirteen USAAF B-17s landed at the airfield by mistake, the American crews, much to the annoyance of those in residency, were given temporary use of the mess until they could depart some days later. Much ribbing by the locals  no doubt helped ease the burden of sharing their beer and alcohol supply.

Various flights did manage to take place in the meantime, using both the Beaufighter and Anson. Further talks were given by escaped POWs, who gave an interesting insight into what to expect if you were shot down over occupied territory.

Over the winter months, gliders were brought in for storage and maintenance, ready for the impending assault on the French coast. These were stored in hangars on teh western side of the airfield and moved prior to D-day.

On January 20th, the first operation finally took place, a Serrate flight over Northern Holland in support of the bombing of Berlin. Two Mosquitoes were detailed but one had to return shortly after take off as the aircraft’s skin began peeling away from the wing root. Those on board were ‘thoroughly disgusted with their bad luck’.

It was this bad luck that would dog the squadron for the remainder of the month. More cancelled flights, aircraft unserviceable and instruments failing during flights. It wasn’t until the 30th January that the string of bad luck would be broken when Sqn. Ldr. Joe Cooper and Flt. Lt. Ralph Connolly, shot down an Me 110, forty miles west of Berlin in Mosquito HJ711 (VI-P). This was the squadron’s first ‘kill’ of the war since being reformed. Utilising their AI equipment, they destroyed the aircraft with a 3 and 7 second burst of gunfire from 200 ft. The aircraft blew up causing the Mosquito to swerve so violently that it entered a near fatal spin. The crew were only able to pull out after falling to an altitude of 5,000 ft. All in all, they fell some 15,000 feet before recovering. Needless to say, there was huge jubilation when they returned, the aircraft being greeted by several hundred personnel at Little Snoring.

With two more kills in February, the tally of three would remain stagnant until mid April when a series of five more 110s were brought down. With three more in May, their total would stand at eleven by the time 169 Sqn were destined to leave.

The road uses the former eastern perimeter track, part of which is still visible to the side.

In the next part, a small detachment arrives bring further new types with them, a  famous face appears and bombers strike at Little Snoring.

The full story can be seen in Trail 22.

Little Snoring hardly the quietest of airfields! (Part 1)

In Trail 22 we revisit a former airfield that housed the mighty Lancasters of Bomber Command, one of the few Norfolk airfields to do so. It later took on the Mosquito, a model that remained here for the remainder of the war, taking part in the Night Intruder role, a role it excelled at.

This small and quiet village played host to some remarkable people and aircraft, it was an airfield that certainly didn’t reflect its name.

RAF Little Snoring

Little Snoring is, as its name suggests, a quiet village deep in the heart of Norfolk. Surrounded by beautiful countryside, it boasts a superb round towered church that holds a remarkable little gem of historical significance. Its history dates back to Anglo Saxon times, a time from whence its name derives.

The Village sign reflects Little Snoring’s aviation history.

The airfield, located about 3 miles north-east of Fakenham on land  191 feet above sea level, was opened in July 1943 following a period of construction by the company Taylor Woodrow Ltd. It would during its history, house no less than five different squadrons along with several conversion units, development units and a glider maintenance section before being used for civilian flying in more modern times.

The airfield was originally opened over the period July / August 1943, quite late in the war, as a satellite for nearby RAF Foulsham. It had three runways: two constructed of concrete 1,400 yards in length, (01/19 and 13/31) and one (07/25) of 2,000 yards again in concrete. As with other Class A airfields its runways formed the typical ‘A’ shape, with thirty-six dispersal sites constructed around the perimeter. A bomb site lay to the north of the airfield, a fuel dump to the south and the accommodation blocks dispersed away from the airfield to the south-west. The airfield was built to accommodate 1,807 RAF and 361 WAAF personnel housed over eight dispersed domestic sites.

To accommodate the various squadrons and their aircraft, the airfield would have 5 hangars, two T2s, two Glider and a B1, all dotted around the perimeter of the airfield, Many of these were not finished when the first aircraft moved in.

Initially opening under the command of 3 Group Bomber Command, its first occupants were the rare Bristol Hercules engined Lancaster IIs of both 1678 HCU (Heavy Conversion Unit) and 115 Squadron (the first unit equipped with the model); formally of RAF East Wretham, who were to carry out night bombing duties, a role it would perform throughout the war.

Of the two units, 115 Sqn were the first to arrive, the advance party being led by F.Lt. W. A Major DFC on the 5th August 1943, from East Wretham. The main party, led by F.Lt. R. Howarson, followed the next day, with the rear party, led by P/O. M.G. Gladwell arriving on the 7th. During this time all flying operations were suspended allowing the squadron time to move and settle in.

115 Sqn was historically a First World War unit, forming in 1917 going on to see action in France in the following year. Post war it was disbanded only to reform again in 1937 in preparation for the second impending world conflict. It would go on to have the dubious honour of having the highest losses of not only 3 Group but the whole of Bomber Command as well – a title, which amounted to 208 crews,  not envied by anyone. *²

The two days following their arrival were taken up with flying training including bombing practice and air-to-sea firing before the first operations on the night of the 10th -11th August 1943.

Fourteen aircraft took off between 21:45 and 22:10 to attack Nuremberg, each aircraft carrying a mix of a 4,000lb ‘Cookie’ and incendiary bombs. Although much of the target was obscured by cloud, crews reported seeing many explosions on the ground along with fires being visible some 100 miles away.*¹

Of those that departed that night one aircraft (DS684) had to return early due to the gunner’s economiser lead being unserviceable, with a second aircraft (DS665) failing to return and not being heard from again. Following a phone call received from RAF Detling in Kent, it was established that the aircraft had in fact crashed some 5 miles east of Maidstone, near to Hall Farm, Boughton Monchelsea in Kent*³. It would later be revealed that none of the crew on board had survived the crash.

With Italy crumbling, further pressure was applied to Germany’s ally through the bombing of both Milan and Turin; the might of the Lancasters now delivering their huge payloads on the two Italian cities.  It was during the Turin raid on the night of 12th August, that Flt.Sgt. Arthur Louis Aaron from 218 Sqn at RAF Downham Market, would earn a VC for his courageous effort in keeping his aircraft flying whilst seriously wounded.

One of two original T2 hangars still in use today. These have since been re-clad.

For 115 Sqn though, the night passed without mishap and all thirteen aircraft returned intact. The next few days saw no further operational flying, the crews undertaking training flights instead, a short relief from operations before they turned their attention northwards and the German rocket research establishment at Peenemunde.

Between 21:38 and 21:50, twelve Lancasters took off from Little Snoring taking a further combination of Cookies and incendiaries with them. Bombs were released  between 7,800 and 12,000ft, a level that just scraped the ceiling of the rising smoke. Of the twelve aircraft that departed, one was lost, that of DS630 ‘H’ flown by F/O. F.R. Pusey – none of the seven aircrew, who were only on their third operation, survived. This took the total of those aircraft lost in the first few days of flying from Little Snoring, to three, almost one per operation.

Another short period of training then followed, before they once again turned their attention to Germany and the capital Berlin.

Amazingly the Lancaster squadron would fair much better than many of its counterparts, particularly those flying Halifaxes and Stirlings, losing only one aircraft, DS630 to the enemy, unlike other squadrons, which were decimated by the Luftwaffe and air defences surrounding the German capital. Of the seven crew on board this aircraft, three were picked up after spending six days drifting in a dingy off the Dutch coast.

The remainder of August was much similar. Training flights and further operations, including mine laying off the West Frisians Islands and the French coast, saw the month draw to its end. Whilst comparatively quiet in terms of losses, the squadron was none the less racking up a steady score of ‘failed to returns’.

In August, Little Snoring would become one of those airfields that would bear witness to an incredible act of bravery one that like so many others would become one of those little known about stories of the war.

On the night of August 23rd – 24th 1943, Berlin was again attacked. On this raid Lancaster ‘KD802’ ‘M’ flying with 207 Sqn from RAF Langar, was attacked by a Ju 88 night fighter. The rear gunner, Sgt. R. Middleton, managed to return fire achieving some strikes on the enemy aircraft, which led to it catching fire and crashing. But Sgt. Middletons determined efforts did not prevent the enemy aircraft from getting his own hits on the Lancaster, causing a fire in both the starboard wing and fuselage. In addition t this, the tail plane and all its controls had also been damaged and the pilot was struggling to maintain control over the burning aircraft.

P.O. McIntosh ordered the bombs ditched at 22:49 hrs. With a lighter load he then turned for home in the hope of reaching home or at least safer territories. In a desperate effort to extinguish the fire, Sgt. Middleton then volunteered to climb out of the fuselage onto the wing, something that had been tried by others in similar situations, but it was a risky and daring challenge. The pilot P.O. McIntosh, refused to grant permission, fearing the the rear gunner would be lost in the strong winds, a risk he was not prepared to take.

Remarkably the aircraft reached the North Sea, McIntosh considered ditching the aircraft fearing its time was almost up, but before he could take action, the navigator announced that they had in fact reached England and the safety of home. Coming in from the north, the first suitable airfield they came across was Little Snoring.

Fuel was now low, and with the landing gear down one of the aircraft’s engines cut out, but using all his skill and training, McIntosh manged a successful and safe landing

The aircraft was written off, so extensive was the damage caused by the fire, but the crew were all safe and uninjured thanks due to an amazing feat of courage and determination by the crew to get the aircraft back home.

In part 2, 115 Sqn’s time at Little Snoring draws to a close. The Lancasters depart and a new aircraft arrives. With it, comes new ownership and a change in operations.

The full story can be seen in Trail 22.

Operation ‘Fuller’ – “The Channel Dash”.

The Second World War was full of extraordinary operations many of which succeeded in their aim resulting in great jubilation on home shores, whilst others will always be remembered for their catastrophic fail and loss of life. In these operations, and even though the mission may have failed, those who took part went far beyond the ‘call of duty’, showing incredible bravery and self sacrifice for the better good.

One such operation took place on February 12th 1942.

Up until now, German warships had been causing havoc in the waters around Britain, sinking in excess of 100,000 tons of allied shipping since the opening days of the war; their ‘trophies’ including the aircraft carrier HMS Glorious and the battleship HMS Hood. In January 1942, three of those German warships responsible the Gneisenau, Scharnhorst (Gluckstein and Salmon as the ships were known by bomber command crews) and Prinz Eugen, all heavily armed and battle hardened, were laying in the port of Brest. Even by remaining there, they were causing the Royal Navy an immense headache, as they were diverted from other important tasks, including operations in the Middle East against German supply ships supplying Rommel, and the valuable protection of allied shipping crossing the Atlantic. The small fleet were a major thorn in the Royal Navy’s side and had to be dealt with.

Coastal Command had been closely monitoring the vessels over a period of months, but information had led to little more than that. With the aim of sinking these ships, the RAF became involved undertaking a total of 299 attacks against them whilst docked in the port. During these attacks, 43 aircraft were lost along with 247 brave airmen. The ships were indeed hit though, and in the case of Scharnhorst, damaged badly, but none ever badly enough not to be beyond repair.

The decision was eventually made to move the ships, Hitler’s fear of a second front being opened in Scandinavia proving to be the deciding factor. On that decision two routes were considered, the northern route around Scotland which would take the small, but powerful fleet in range of British carriers and warships at Scapa Flow, a fight the Germans did not want to engage in. Alternatively, they could attempt a daring dash through the narrow and well defended English Channel. It was a difficult decision to make.

Following a meeting on January 12th, 1942 between many top ranking German officials including Hitler, Raeder (the C In C of the Navy), Vice-Admiral Ciliax and Adolf Galland as commander of the Luftwaffe in the Channel area, a decision was finally made, the shorter English Channel route would be the one to take.

The decision raised great concerns though. Both Galland and other Luftwaffe officials knew that there were too few available fighters in the region – just some two groups and a few training units – to be able to provide the 24 hour protection the ships needed as they dashed through the straits. Night fighters were especially needed, a decision which was affirmed and granted by Major General Jeschonnek, the Luftwaffe Chief of Staff; but the numbers of aircraft available to Galland would still remain greatly inferior to those on British soil ready to attack.

So, Operation Thunderbolt was born with February 11th chosen as ‘X’ day, and a sailing time set at 8:00pm. In the weeks leading up to the ‘dash’, German transmitting stations based at both Calais and Cherbourg, began a cat and mouse game transmitting a series of elaborate but false messages to interfere with British radar stations along the south coast. They provided a cover story, suggesting that the fleet would set sail but head toward the Pacific in support of the Japanese and not north to Scandinavia. In preparation, trial runs were made to test engines, guns and communications. The British, still monitoring their actions, began a series of raids on the port, none of which achieved any great success.

During these attacks, which had been occurring regularly since early January, several aircraft were lost including: three Manchesters from 61 Squadron; two Hampdens from 144 Sqn; three Wellingtons, one each from 12, 142 and 300 Sqns and on the 10th February, another Manchester from 61 Sqn.

To meet the anticipated challenge, Galland had some 252 fighters, including a mix of 109s, 190s and some thirty 110 night fighters at his disposal, but he argued, it was still not enough to provide the cover he wanted.

As ‘X’ day approached, the radars went wild with false readings and interference. But the British, now aware of an impending escape, were on high alert, additional Motor Torpedo Boats (MTBs) were docked at Dover and Swordfish aircraft were drafted in to RAF Manston in Kent. Some 1,100 magnetic mines were laid along the projected route and Dover command was put on standby. At 8:00pm on February 11th,  the flotilla began to assemble outside of Brest harbour, just as a routine air raid was launched, and so the port was shut down. Although only one aircraft was lost, a Wellington from 150 Sqn, the raid proved no more than a nuisance, only delaying the fleet’s departure by two hours.

Now temporarily blinded by false radio measures, the British were unable to ‘see’ the mighty armada as it finally slipped out into the open waters of the Channel. Their escape had been a success.

During the night, good progress was made by the fleet and the lost time was made up quickly. Meanwhile, the skies remained quiet, the British not yet realising the ruse. The early morning remained dark, night fighters patrolled along side the fleet at wave top level, thus avoiding detection by British radar. Day fighters joined them in a relay operation that would be held below the cloud ceiling of 1,500 feet.

At 11:00 am on the 12th, the Germans intercepted a British message signalling that the fleet had been spotted. But it remained another hour before further RAF aircraft were seen, the British being wary and unsure of the message’s accuracy. Even though for months the British Command had been monitoring the fleet, those in command failed to act on valuable information, a mistake that led to a vital delay in operations.

Then, in the early hours of the afternoon, as the fleet approached the narrowest point of the Channel, British defences at Dover opened fire. A sea battle then raged between German warships and British MTBs, but for all their valiant efforts they failed to achieve their goal.

At 13:20 A group of sixteen Spitfires took off from Kenley on a Beaufort escort mission that were sent out to search for, and attack the fleet. They initially  rendezvoused with twelve more Spitfires from 602 Sqn, but then failed to meet the Beauforts over Manston. The formation then continued on to the target area looking for the convoy and its escort. Soon after arriving over the Channel, 485 (NZ) Sqn’s leader, Group Captain, Francis V. Beamish DSO and Bar, DFC, AFC, spotted six destroyers, two E-Boats and two German Battle cruisers. At his altitude there was no fighter escort, the mix of Bf109s and FW190s remaining firmly below radar level at 600ft.

Seizing his chance, Beamish then attacked one of the destroyers raking it with gunfire along the length of its deck, a Spitfire’s guns were no match for the destroyer though and little damage was done. The remaining aircraft of the two squadrons then took on the enemy who were forming a low level protectiove umbrella, achieving a greater rate of success with several ‘kills’ being reported back at kenley.

Now fully aware of the situation, the RAF and Navy were called into action. At RAF Manston, eighteen young men began to prepare for take off, their target, the escaping German fleet of some sixty-six surface vessels including the warships Gneisenau, Scharnhorst and Prinz Eugen, now sailing almost unopposed through the English Channel.

The six Fairy Swordfish of 825 Naval Air Squadron were ageing biplanes, they were no match for Galland’s fast and more dominant fighters, nor the defensive guns of the mighty German fleet they were hoping to attack. To pitch a handful of biplanes with torpedoes against such a heavily armed and well prepared armada, turned out to be no less than suicide.

In front of their Swordfish, Lieut Cdr E Esmonde, RN, (2nd Left) on board HMS Ark Royal, October 1941. This photo was taken after the attack on the Bismark, and includes the various aircrew who received decorations as a result of that daring attack. (Left to right: Lieut P D Gick, RN, awarded DSC; Lieut Cdr E Esmonde, RN, awarded DSO; Sub Lieut V K Norfolk, RN, awarded DSC; A/PO Air L D Sayer. awarded DSM; A/ Ldg Air A L Johnson, awarded DSM). (© IWM A 5828)

The winter of 1942 was very cold, but the Swordfish were kept ready, engines warmed and torpedoes armed, now they could no longer wait, and instead of attacking as planned at night, they would have to attack during the day, and so the order to go was given. The crews started their engines and set off on their daring mission in what was appalling weather.

Shortly after take off, the escort arrived, merely ten Spitfires from No. 72 Squadron RAF, led by Squadron Leader Brian Kingcombe, and not the five Spitfire squadrons promised. The six Swordfish, led by  Lt. Cdr. Eugene Esmonde, dived down to 50 feet and began their attack. Hoping to fly below the level of the anti-aircraft guns each of the six Swordfish flew gallantly toward their targets. Eventually, and even though they were hit and badly damaged, they pressed home their attacks, but they were out-gunned, and out performed, and just twenty minutes after the attack began, all six had fallen victim to the German guns. No torpedoes had struck home.

Of the eighteen men who took off that day, only five were to survive.

Leading the attack, Lt. Cdr. Esmonde (an ex-Imperial Airways captain) was warded the V.C. Posthumously, he had previously been awarded the Distinguished Service Order for his part in the attack on the Battleship Bismark; an award that also went to: S/Lt. B Rose, S/Lt. E Lee, S/Lt. C Kingsmill, and S/Lt. R Samples. Flying with them, L/A. D. Bunce was awarded the Conspicuous Gallantry Medal and twelve of the airmen were mentioned in dispatches.

The attack became known as ‘The Channel dash’ officially called operation Fuller, and in honour of the brave attempt to hit the German fleet that day, a memorial was erected in Ramsgate Harbour, the names of the eighteen Swordfish crew are listed where their story is inscribed for eternity.

Operation Fuller was a disaster not only for the Royal Navy and Coastal Command who had been monitoring the fleet for many months, but also for the Royal Air Force. A force of some 100 aircraft made up from almost every Group of Bomber Command had made its way to the Channel. By the time evening had dawned, it had become clear that some sixteen aircraft from the force had been lost. The loss of life from those sixteen aircraft totalled sixty-four, with a further five being captured and incarcerated as prisoners of war.*¹

Bomber Command were not without their terrible stories either. The sad loss of W/C. R MacFadden DFC and his six crew who remained in their dingy after their Wellington from 214 Sqn ditched in the cold waters of the Channel. Over a period of 72 hours all but Sgt. Murray, slowly died from the cold, he being rescued at the last minute and incarcerated by the Germans. Of all the RAF squadrons that took part that day, their losses amounted to: 49 Sqn (4 x Hampdens); 50 Sqn (1 x Hampden); 103 Sqn (1 x Wellington);  110 Sqn (1 x Blenheim); 114 Sqn (1 x Blenheim); 144 Sqn (2 x Hampdens); 214 Sqn (1 x Wellington); 419 Sqn (2 x Wellingtons); 420 Sqn (2 x Hampdens) and 455 Sqn (1 x Hampden)*²

February 12th had been a disaster, so bad that The Daily Mirror reported on February 16th 1942 under the headline “9 Lost Hours in the Channel“,  that a demand had been put forward to Parliament for a complete statement on Naval strategy during the event. It also questioned the “suitability of Admiral Sir Dudley Pound”, in fulfilling his role. The paper goes onto say that a lag of some nine hours had largely been ignored by officials, that being the time between the first notice and when action was finally taken against the fleet. It also says that although the initial sighting was no earlier than 10:42 am, it took another hour before it too was responded to.  The public had been mislead it believed.

The entire operation has been badly organised by those in command, with little or no cohesion nor coordination between this various forces involved. As a result, the entire operation was a catastrophe with a major loss of life and no real result. The entire operation was seen by some as akin to a “Gilbert and Sullivan” comedy*³.

However, from that disaster came stories of untold heroism, bravery and self sacrifice by a group of men that have turned this event into one of Britain’s most remarkable and incredible stories of the war.

The memorial stands in Ramsgate Harbour.

The names of the 18 airmen and the Swordfish they flew.

Sources and Further reading

*¹ To read more about Bomber Commands part in operation Fuller and a German film of the event, see the Pathfinders Website.

*² Chorley, W.R., “Bomber Command Losses of the Second World War – 1942” 1994, Midland Counties publications.

*³ Bennet, D “Pathfinder“, Goodall, 1998

National Archives AIR 27/1933/20, AIR 27/1933/21

A German account of the ‘dash’ is given in “The First and the Last” by Adolf Galland published in 1955 by Meuthuen & Co.. Ltd.

Trail 60 – Scotland’s West Coast (Part 2).

In the second part of this Trail we continue at Oban (Karrera) off the west coast of Scotland.

In Part 1 we saw how Oban developed into a major Flying Boat base utilising the long stretches of water between Karrera and Oban and how Patrols were being sent out to search for the German Battleship Bismark.

The arrival of the Catalinas not only brought a new aircraft, but new accents to this part of Scotland too. A number of Americans had now joined the Air Force and it was one of these who flew the first Bismark Patrol in May 1941. Taking off at 09:20 in AH531 was F.Lt Van der Kiste D.S.O. and Lt. Maulsby, an American, who together carried out cross over patrols for twelve hours before returning to Oban empty handed. The first attempt to locate Bismark was unsuccessful.

For the next three days, aircraft of 210 Sqn from Oban and Reykjavik searched tirelessly for the Battleship, and on the 26th their efforts paid off. Catalina W8416, flown by F.Lt Hatfield and Lt. Rinehart (another US flyer), took off at 12:23 searching for the rest of the day. At 23:40 Bismark was sighted, without her escort. The Catalina remained on site, shadowing the Battleship for the remainder of the night. Some twenty-seven hours later the aircraft returned to Oban, the endurance of both the aircraft and crew being truly remarkable*².

For the remainder of the year regular patrols intercepted both Condor reconnaissance aircraft and marauding U-boats, attacking mainly with depth charges, some of these proving highly successful.

When February 1942 arrived, the squadron began to transfer to Sullom Voe, Catalinas transferring large numbers of crewmen whilst Handly Page Harrows transferred ground personnel via the airfield on the mainland at Prestwick.

Within a month though, the Sunderland would return to Oban with the arrival of another new squadron, 228 Squadron. Their move coinciding with the replacement of the Mk.IIs they currently possessed with the updated Mk. IIIs, these remaining here until December of that same year.

Two months after 228’s arrival, another Sunderland squadron arrived at Oban. Being formed on 18th May 1942, 423 Sqn brought yet more Sunderland MK. IIs, and shortly after MK.IIIs. The summer of 1942  was becoming a very busy time in the waters between Kerrera and Oban.

For the first few days, organisational matters were the priority for 423 Sqn. New staff were brought in and rooms were allocated for operations. Two buildings on Kerrera were handed over to the Canadians for their use, one of which was immediately utilised by the Signals Section. Control of 423 Sqn was initially taken over by Sqn. Ldr J.D.E. Hughes DFC, who transferred from 4 OTU at Stranraer. He immediately took the role of Flight Commander. The headquarters were set up in the navigation room, and within days of each other, an adjutant, navigation officer, Medical Officer, Signals Officer and a handful of ground personnel had all arrived. Sqn. Ldr. Hughes then detached to Pembroke Dock so he could oversee the transfer of aircrew, ground personnel and aircraft to Oban.

The Slip way on Kerrera. There are buildings to the right and behind.

By July 1st there were twelve Officers and sixty-two ‘other ranks’, but as yet no aircraft had arrived. In addition to this, the development of the site was being hampered by lack of supplies, difficulties in getting suitable building materials preventing the construction of appropriate offices.

At last on the 16th the first aircraft arrived, a MK.II Sunderland ‘W6001’, flown in by Sqn. Ldr. Hughes himself. This momentous moment was followed two days later by the second aircraft, ‘W6000’, being flown by Flt.Lt Lindsay DFC. By the end of the month the Canadian squadron in Oban consisted of twenty-six officers and 160 ‘other ranks’, but still only two aircraft. However, it did mean that at last training flights could now commence*³.

In August 1942, the quiet island of Kerrera and its neighbouring town of Oban, were struck by tragedy. The loss of not only almost an entire crew, but a very special dignitary as well. The tragedy would bring home sharply the dangers that crews faced when flying from coastal bases.

On the 23rd, Sunderland W4026, ‘DQ-M’ of 228 Sqn, with F.Lt. Goyen, W.C. Moseley, P.O Smith and P.O Saunders onboard, took off on a transit flight to the large flying boat base at Invergordon on Scotland’s East Coast. Also on board that day was Sgt. W. Sweet,  Flt.Sgt. W. Jones, Flt.Sgt. E. Hewerdine, Sgt. E. Blacklock, Sgt. A. Catt, Flt.Sgt. A. Jack and Flt.Sgt. C. Lewis. They arrived at Invergordon at 16:30 and began to prepare for their visitor.

Two days later, the aircraft with all eleven crew onboard, along with their special guest  H.R.H. Prince George, The Duke of Kent, and three members of his party, took off for a transit flight to Iceland. At approximately 14:00, the aircraft crashed at Eagles Mount near Dunbeath in poor visibility killing all onboard except the rear gunner Sgt. Andrew Jack. The board of enquiry carried out an investigation and concluded that a navigational error had caused the crash, in which the aircraft, full of fuel, exploded. The flight was on an official flight to Reykjavik, and it is believed that the crew didn’t account for strong winds blowing in off the sea. This it is thought, caused the aircraft to drift. When altering course, the aircraft didn’t have sufficient altitude to clear the high ground in front. Thirteen of the fourteen occupants were instantly killed. At the time, it was recorded as the worst Short Sunderland accident, and Britain’s third worst air accident.*⁴

By November 1942, it was time for change once again at Oban, as one Canadian squadron swapped with another. The departure of 423 Sqn signalled the arrival of 422 Sqn, one Sunderland squadron replacing another.

Since their inception in April 1942, 422 Sqn had operated two aircraft, the Lerwick and the Catalina IB. On Arrival at Oban, they immediately began to receive the Sunderland III. With four aircraft on roll by December, the squadron had settled in well, and crew training was well underway. However, none of the airmen had any experience of the Sunderland, and so training was going to be long. The bitter cold of the Scottish winter began to bite, which in conjunction with early problems with the towing tractors, hampered training. Gusts and swell in the sea prevented many take offs and crews often had to resort to sleeping on board their aircraft.

Kerrera. Is this the same house that appeared behind the Saro Lerwick?

Four months later tragedy would strike again at Kerrera. On the 19th December 1942, 422 Sqn suffered a tragic loss when Sunderland W6029 crashed in the Firth of Lorne, the body of water between Kerrera and the Island of Mull beyond. The aircraft, a MK.III, was returning from a flight to Sullom Voe, picking up a new crew and other passengers. On its return, the weather and sea conditions at Oban were deemed to be unsuitable for landing, but radio contact with the aircraft had been lost. Unaware that they were to divert to Invergordon, the crew attempted to land, and at 16:41 lives were lost. As the aircraft touched down, a swell in the sea caused the front of the aircraft to collapse, severely damaging it, causing the aircraft to overturn and sink.

Killed that day were: F.O. David Mclean Cameron (s/n: 113530); F.O. James Kemp Potter (s/n: J/10323); F.O. Harold Francis Burt-Gerrans (s/n: J/16744); Sgt. Alun Griffiths Rees (s/n: 405084); Sgt. John Luke (s/n: 639582) and LAC William Arthur Allan (s/n: R/118882). Also killed was Intelligence Officer Major John Cox (Black Watch). A further three were seriously injured and the remainder suffered minor injuries, including the pilot Flt. Lt. John D. Reed. In all, over twenty personnel were killed or injured that day, in an accident that shook the lives of those living in the area. Many survivors were taken to the Highland Cottage hospital at Oban, where they thankfully recovered from their injuries.*⁵

By the end of December there were seven Sunderlands on charge and 109 hours of flying training had been achieved. No operations had as yet been carried out, and despite the recent tragic accidents both aircrew and ground crew were getting to grips with their new aircraft.

The dawn of 1943 saw more patrols and escort duties. Another international squadron would arrive bringing the Catalina with them. 330 (Norwegian) Sqn were a Reykjavik based unit who moved to Oban whilst continuing to operate a detachment out of Reykjavik. Within a month, they would begin to replace their aircraft with Sunderland MK.IIIs, then a year later with MK.IIs before departing to Sullom Voe in July 1943.

The eventual departure of 330 Sqn allowed for their space to be taken a few days later, on July 15th, by 302 Ferry Training Unit (FTU). The unit, which had formed in the previous September at Loch Erne, was set up to train ferry crews specifically for the long range Catalinas and Sunderlands. Overseas operations were now in need of the flying boats and crews were needed to transport them there. The unit remained active at Oban until the war’s end, transferring to Killadeas in mid 1945, prior to disbanding a year later.

In December 1943, a new squadron was formed at Oban, 524 Squadron, although this time it would not be the Sunderland nor the Catalina, but a new model would appear on the water. The Mariner was another US designed aircraft constructed by Martin, Lockheed’s competitor.

A large, deep hulled, twin engined aircraft its distinctive gull wing and angled twin-tail, made it easily recognisable. The squadron was set up under the Command of 15 Group, with a view to gaining operational experience on the new type of aircraft. Initially six Mariners were ordered, and modified to the minimum required for operational purposes. The long term view was that 524 Sqn would transfer overseas once the operational trials were completed.

The initial squadron set up was with 43 Officers, 111 Senior NCOs, 118 Corporals and A.C.s and 15 WAAFs. This combination would allow for the initial establishment of 14 aircrew.

The first aircraft (JX.100, JX.105, JX.106 and JX.110) were received on October 25th, after modification by Saunders-Roe, ready for operational flying. During the time with 524 Sqn, there was great difficulty in obtaining both spares and manuals and the Mariners did not become popular. The situation became so bad that by December the squadron was wound down and disbanded. All aircraft were given a 40 hour inspection and then prepared for disposal. The majority of the squadron staff were retained at Oban in the two training units 302 FTU and 131 OTU, whilst others were dispersed to new squadrons.

Martin (PBM-3B) Mariner I JX103 of No 524 Squadron at Oban, October 1943. © IWM MH 5097

By the end of January 1944 all four Mariners had gone with no more than 90 hours flying time having been completed.

In the lead up to D-day, Oban and the waters around Karrera were utilised for construction of the Mulbury harbour, a floating harbour than enabled men and machinery to be transferred from ship to shore quickly. At Oban Blockships were assembled, these would be used as the outer breakwater for the Mulberry harbours once at Normandy.

Blockships in the waters around Karerra used as the outer breakwater for the Mulberry harbours assembled at Oban. © IWM A 27070

After that, little operational flying took place from Kerrera. As the war began to wind down the Atlantic arena demanded fewer Maritime patrols, the numbers of U-boats at sea now declining below 100. The training units continued to operate for a short time, and then by April 1945 the site was put into care and maintenance. By early 1946, the RAF’s connection had all but ceased and the base was closed.

The Hotels used by the aircrew are still in use today, The Dungallen House Hotel (the former headquarters) being outside of Oban, whilst the Regent Hotel (the sergeants mess) stands on the waterfront.

The slip way on Kerrera and a handful are buildings are known to still survive, these can just about be seen from Oban. Whilst there is a good sized granite memorial and original slipway at Ganavan Sands, there is no official memorial in Oban town, and a return is definitely on the cards to visit these.

The Island of Kerrera is accessible by ferry. It is a small island with a few houses and businesses. The bay used for maintenance now accommodates small boats, the slipway, still present, is visible from Oban. A few buildings still remain on the island and some of these are also visible (with a decent telephoto lens or binoculars) from Oban. The museum which houses a display of memorabilia relating to Oban’s wartime history was closed at this time due to Government restrictions, but I am reliably informed that it has a good range of photographs of Oban’s Sunderlands and Catalinas.

The museum boasts two models, the first a 1/8 scale radio controlled Sunderland, the model being that of the 228 Sqn aircraft that operated from Oban in 1942 and the one that was lost with H.R.H. Prince George, The Duke of Kent onboard. A further and smaller model of a Catalina is also on show, it also having been lost whilst on operations.

The waters around Oban were indeed very busy in the early 1940s. With long range patrols and escort duties being performed, many of Britain’s merchant vessels were protected by these aircraft. The history of Oban has never been forgotten though, with a museum and several hotels boasting displays, the remnants on Kererra have been given new life which tell the story of life at RAF Oban.

Sources and Further Reading.

*¹ National Archives AIR 27/1292/4

*² National Archives AIR-27-1299-9

*³ National Archives AIR 27/1832/1

*⁴ Aviation Safety Network website.

*⁵ National Archives AIR/271831

National Archives AIR 27/1415/15

National Archives AIR 27/1415/16

The U-Boat War website. An excellent resource covering all aspects of the U-boat war.

The War and Peace Museum Oban website.

BBC Website “WW2 People’s War” – a record of personal stories.

“Dive Oban And Argyll” website has video / still of aircraft wrecks around Oban.

Trail 60 – Scotland’s West Coast (Part 1).

In this Trail we head to Scotland’s stunning west coast, passing the beautiful Lochs and mountains of the Trossachs to an area known as the ‘Gateway to the Isles’. With the Inner and Outer Hebrides only a short boat trip away, it is, according to the Office of National Statistics, the UK’s 50th most popular tourist destination.

Now no longer a military aviation site, it was during the Second World War, a prime location for those sub-hunters and convoy escorts the Flying Boat. With open seas not far away, U-boats could hide in its hidden bays, sheltered by the many small islands and deep waters.

In Trail 60, we continue with the Flying Boat theme and head to the former RAF base at Oban.

RAF Oban (Kerrera).

The Flying boat base at Oban was actually located across the bay from the town on a small island called Kerrera, although personnel were billeted in the many hotels along Oban’s waterfront. With a further maintenance site a few miles north at Ganavan Sands, Oban, and the surrounding area, made a major contribution to coastal operations during the Second World War.

The calm waters of the Sound of Kerrera, the stretch of water between the island and the mainland,  provided both good shelter and mooring facilities, as well as a long straight run for both take-off and landings.

However, it was not all plain sailing for those based at Oban. Whilst Kerrera sheltered the bay from the prevailing Atlantic winds, it did cause problems for some, as the wind direction could be unpredictable with swirls often being encountered during these crucial times. Another problem that the pilots frequently encountered were the many small boats that frequented the small bay. Strict guidelines were therefore issued to crews with extreme care and caution being the order of the day.

Oban bay and Kerrera. The slip way is directly in front.

The RAF arrived in force in 1939, although it is believed that there was some use of the area in the years prior to this, notably from 201 Squadron who flew Supermarine Southamptons.

The first squadron to be posted here was that of 209 Squadron, operating another Supermarine model, the Stranraer. 209 Sqn had a long history, going back as far as World War One, and although it was disbanded in June 1919, it was reformed later in June 1930.

For the next nine years, the squadron would fly a whole range of aircraft types including the: Blackburn Iris III and V, Saunders Roe (Saro) A.7, Supermarine Southampton and Short’s Singapore II and III. All these before taking on the Stranraer in December 1938. Their diversity in aircraft was only matched by the range of bases from which they served. Reformed at Mount Batten in Plymouth, they transferred to half a dozen different bases ‘yo-yoing’ between them and Felixstowe in Suffolk, a place they would become familiar with.

The summer of 1939 was a particularly busy time for 209 Sqn, moving from Stranraer to Felixstowe, from Felixstowe to Invergordon then back once again to Felixstowe. From here, they would make one more move back to Invergordon before finally arriving at Oban on October 7th 1939. This last posting must have provided some light relief for the squadron personnel as they remained here until the end of July 1940. At this point, the squadron would move once again, this time to the major flying boat base at Pembroke Dock. Throughout this hectic and dynamic time, a small detachment of the squadron remained at the base in the Cornish Town of Falmouth.

With no flying in the days preceding the move to Oban, the 7th October saw the first aircraft, Stranraer K7292, depart Invergordon at 14:35. An hour later it arrived at the base at Kerrera, triggering a chain of events that would begin Oban’s aviation history.*¹

Over the next few days the number of aircraft transiting to Oban increased and the quantity of Stanraers moored in the bay began to build up.

With local flights, air tests and gunnery practice taking precedence over other flying activities, the first patrols wouldn’t begin until the 18th October. From then on, routine searches would take aircraft around the local islands including Mull, the adjacent island, and out to the Skerrymore Light which was located on the Isle of Tiree.

From then on patrols were carried out mainly between the areas known as Little Minch and North Minch (a stretch of water between the islands), offering a continuous anti-submarine patrol in conjunction with aircraft from 269 Sqn. Any submarines sighted were to be reported rather than attacked, possibly as British Submarines were also operating in the area at that time.

On the 24th October, orders were given to escort the ship SS Hesterus, performing a watch until the Skerrymore Light was reached. At that point the aircraft was ordered to leave the area and return to Oban. The Minch became a submarine hot spot, with new orders coming through on the 25th to now bomb any enemy submarine now seen in this location. German U-boats were now known to lurk in these deep waters waiting for unsuspecting merchant vessels to appear, before they transited to the open sea. With a number of sightings toward the month’s end the war was beginning to heat up.

In December 1939, it was decided to replace the Stranraers with Lerwick Is, a Saunders Roe built aircraft capable of carrying a crew of seven: two pilots, one Air Observer, two Aircrew, one Flight Mechanic and one Flight Rigger. There were some doubts as to the suitability of the Lerwick to operate from Oban’s waters, the rough sea and high terrain surrounding Oban presenting a great risk. It was also advised that night flying and flying in poor weather was also too dangerous, the Stranraer being far more suited to such flights. However, following a study by Wing Commander C.G. Wigglesworth of 209 Sqn, which compared the Lerwick to the Stranraer, he concluded that with a reduction in the overall weight as he prescribed, the Lerwick could be successfully flown from Oban. As a result, four were initially ordered, which would operate in conjunction with the Stranraers until crews became fully acquainted with the new type.

Saro Lerwick L7257 ‘WQ-F’ of 209 Squadron at Oban, August 1940. Note retractable dorsal turret, is this the same house that appears in the modern picture below? © IWM CH 864

On 25th December, a fuel test combined with an anti submarine patrol was carried out. The speed of the Lerwick (L7255) and duration of its flight returned a usage of 85 gallons per hour, a figure which the Station Commander considered good and in line with what Messers Bristols suggested; albeit at a less economical 100 gallons per hour for the Hercules engine.

In 1940, the patrols continued on, and in June one of these patrols spotted  the 3000 ton Finnish vessel “Reculus Suom” . The aircraft contacted the British warship HMS Devonshire, directing her to the vessel’s location. The partnership between the RAF and Navy serving well off the Scottish coast.

Other ships identified on these patrols included Icelandic vessels along with HMS Hood, HMS Ark Royal and HMS Hesperus. With one submarine attacked, patrols and escorts became the primary role of 209 Sqn.

Then on 20th June 1940, aircraft C / 20G was ordered to the position of A.M.C. “Scotstoon”, which had been torpedoed and sunk. On arrival, the aircraft saw 8 lifeboats, along with a considerable amount of oil and wreckage. The pilot contacted a British destroyer which preceded at full speed to pick up the survivors. Whilst the destroyer remained on site, the aircraft patrolled looking for any signs of a U-boat that might be waiting to attack the rescuer. Once all the survivors were gathered, the aircraft returned home to Oban.

Many of these escort duties ran in conjunction with Sunderlands from 15 Group. Some of these would land at Oban, gather fuel and return to their own bases elsewhere. It would soon become a sight that would become the norm.

In July 1940, the Lerwicks of 209 Sqn departed Oban’s waters, heading to Pembroke Dock, allowing space for another squadron, 210 Squadron, flying the larger four engined Short’s aircraft, the Sunderland. In a virtual swap, the Sunderland squadron began arriving two days after 209’s departure.

A Sunderland Mark I, L2163 ‘DA-G’, of 210 Squadron escorting Convoy 6 (TC.6), to Greenock. © IWM CH 832

The Sunderland (detailed in Trail 59) was a big aircraft built and designed like a boat, from the keel up. With its massive fuselage it could maintain flight for some 13 hours covering a range of 1,700 miles. With many comforts built in for crewmen, it was an ideal sub hunter and maritime patrol aircraft.

To give an even greater coverage the squadron had detachments based at Reykjavik (Iceland), Sullom Voe (a major deep water harbour on the Shetland Islands) and Stranrear. It was from Sullom Voe that 210 Sqn Flying Officer John Cruickshank, earned himself the Victoria Cross for his action against a heavily armed German U-boat. During the attack, Cruickshank and four other crewmen were severely injured, his navigator was killed and the aircraft badly damaged. He continued to fly his aircraft (Catalina Mark IVA, JV928 ‘Y) before relinquishing control to his second pilot. But knowing he couldn’t land the aircraft, Cruickshank refused morphine, circling over the base until daylight which allowed him to supervise the landing of the Catalina by the Second Pilot. His actions that night undoubtedly went a long way to saving his crew and his aircraft.

210 Squadron remained at Oban for the next two years replacing their Sunderlands with Catalina Is in April 1941. In February 1942 they finally departed, heading for the deep water base at Sullom Voe.

The main role of the Sunderland here at Oban was to carry out convoy escort and anti-submarine patrols in the Atlantic, especially in the waters off western Ireland. Some U-boats were spotted and engaged by the aircraft, but contacts were infrequent, fog often preventing crews from locating the convoy let alone the U-boats.

On the 5th and 6th January 1941, two 210 Sqn Sunderlands (P9623 and L5798) from Oban located and attacked U-Boats, one of which was recorded as believed sunk. On the 29th, a Luftwaffe Condor, the German long-range reconnaissance aircraft, attacked one of the Sunderlands before departing the area. No damage was recorded by the Sunderland and it too returned to base.

Routine maintenance was carried out whilst aircraft were moored the in water. Note the turret withdrawn for mooring. Short Sunderland Mark I of 210 Squadron. © IWM CH 855

By April, the American built Catalina began to make an appearance, but its introduction seemed to be dogged with compass problems; several aircraft returning from flights with these instruments being faulty. With this corrected, May brought a buzz of activity as the Bismark was thought to be in the area. Regular patrols were put out to find both her and her escorts, with the first flight being on the 23rd.

In Part 2 we see how 210 Sqn began searching the wide open expanses of the Atlantic for the German Battleship. Two major tragedies and what happened as the war finally drew to a close.

The Best of British and German!

Here’s another guest post from Mitch Peeke.

In the afternoon of the September 30th, 1940; a lone Messerschmitt 109 flew low and slow over Strood, Kent, belching smoke. The pilot, Unteroffizier Ernst Poschenrieder, had been in combat with Spitfires from 222 Squadron whilst escorting bombers to London. Ernst’s squadron had suffered  heavily when the Spitfires pounced. The aircraft he was flying wasn’t even his usual mount. He wasn’t superstitious, but so far this definitely wasn’t his day.

Knowing he would never get back to France and that he was too low to jump, crash-landing on Broom Hill, a hilltop field cultivating vegetables for the war effort, was now his only option. He could see it would be tricky. People were tending the field, but his wounded engine was giving up. To minimise the dangers of a wheels-up landing, he overflew the field and emptied his guns harmlessly into the surrounding treetops.

Unteroffizier Ernst Poschenrieder (courtesy Shoreham Aircraft Museum)

Approaching the tree-line, Ernst throttled back and put the flaps down, losing as much airspeed as possible. The treetops seemed to be trying to grab him as he cut the dying engine; a fire prevention measure. Skimming the trees, the Messerschmitt sank through the last thirty feet of the air and hit the ground violently at 60 MPH, ploughing down the slope. Bucking and bouncing, it tore up the dry soil then broke its back, slewing half-round and stopping just before the trees. He’d made it, just; but the force of the crash had nearly broken Ernst’s back, too.

The farm workers ran to the scene with hoes and forks. Thinking the pilot had tried to machine-gun them, they sought blood; but a young Land Army girl, a Scots lass named Sarah Kortwright, got there first. Standing beside the cockpit, she kept them back. Ernst sat there, ears ringing and in intense pain; and waited. Someone had gone to fetch a Policeman.

PC Jack Matthews (back row, 3rd from right) who later arrested Unteroffizier Ernst Poschenrieder (by kind permission of Mike Hearne)

Sixty-year-old PC 28 Jack Matthews, of the Rochester Police, quickly arrived on the scene. Taking immediate control, he arrested the pilot, for his own protection. Jack was over six feet tall and athletically built. Facing the mob, truncheon in hand, he sternly announced that anyone trying to interfere would be obstructing a Police Officer or having to assault one. The mob lost interest and Ernst was carefully extracted from his cockpit, grateful to be alive.

Ernst’s crashed 109, courtesy Friends of Broomhill

Ernst was taken to Chatham Police station, then immediately to Hospital, for emergency surgery. Thereafter, he was a POW.

He returned to England in 1955, to thank both Sarah Kortwright and the doctor who’d treated him. He traced the hospital doctor, but Sarah had returned to Scotland. Undeterred, he tracked her down and armed with a bouquet of flowers, went to Scotland and took her out to dinner!  In 2005, Ernst visited artist Geoff Nutkins, at the Shoreham Aircraft Museum in Kent, to sign some prints and sketches. Ernst became a frequent visitor to the museum’s events. Sadly, he died in 2009, aged 98. he was killed not by old age; but rather unexpectedly, by a car.

This article was excerpted from a new e-book. 1940: THE BATTLES TO STOP HITLER gives the full story of this and many other events like it, that took place during the time when it seemed that only the French and the British stood in Hitler’s way. Published by Pen & Sword Books Ltd this e-book is available to download at  http://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/1940-The-Battles-to-Stop-Hitler-ePub/p/11119  priced at £8:00.

RAF Upwood (Trail 17) – The Graveyard of RAF Squadrons (Part 4)

In Part 3 Upwood became part of the Pathfinders operating Mosquitoes on major operations as Bennett’s Pathfinder Force. Eventually the war drew to a close and bombing operations wound down. Then we entered the jet age.

With the war in Europe now over, Upwood would become a ‘graveyard’ for RAF squadrons. The first of these 105 Squadron, arrived in the same month as 156 departed, with Mosquito XVIs. By the end of January 1946 they were gone, but like the Phoenix of Greek folklore, they would arise from the ashes at Benson in the early 1960s.

102 Squadron were another typical example of this, arriving in February 1946, only to be disbanded two weeks later, being renumbered as 53 Squadron. 53 Sqn made a conscious effort to buck the trend by  flying with the four engined heavies the Liberator VIs and VIIIs, but sadly they too did not last long, closing in the summer of that same year.

1946 was a busy year at Upwood, with what seemed a constant ebb and flow of ‘heavies’, this motion setting a scene that would prevail for the next eight years or so.

February 1946 finally saw the departure of 139 Sqn to Hemswell, after two years at Upwood, their time here had come – their historic role had come to an end. But for Upwood, it was still not the final curtain, for on July 29th, another unit would arrive, 7 Squadron. The unit was reduced to just ten aircraft prior to the move, and would not take on any new models until 1949 when the Lincoln B.2 arrived. An aircraft developed from the highly successful Lancaster, it would be used in operations over Malaya until the squadron was disbanded and then reformed elsewhere with Valiants in 1956.

Back in November 1946, two other squadrons would reform here at Upwood, both 148 and 214 Sqns, and both with Lancaster B.1 (F.E.). These ‘tropicalised’ versions of the B.1 had been destined to go to the Far East to fly operations against Japan as the ‘Tiger Force‘. These modifications included changes made to the radio, radar, navigational aids and included having a 400 gallon fuel tank installed in the bomb bay. Faced with the high temperatures of the Far East, they were painted white on top to reduce heat absorption, and black underneath. Fortunately though, the war with Japan had ended before they could be used, and in 1949, both these units would lose them in favour of the Lincoln also. This meant that Upwood now boasted three Lincoln squadrons, the war may have been over, but the power of the Merlin continued on well into the mid 1950s, these three squadrons disbanding between 1954 and 1956.

In the summer months of 1952, Dirk Bogarde starred in a film made at Upwood using Lancasters in an ‘Appointment in London‘.

A wartime story it was made by Mayflower Film Productions, and used four Lancasters crewed by Upwood airmen. Starring Dirk Bogarde, it is a story of intense rivalry between a Wing Commander aiming for his 90th mission, and an American officer, there is the usual love story attached as the two try to put aside their rivalry to achieve their own personal aims.

On February 23rd 1954, a forth Lincoln squadron arrived at Upwood, 49 Squadron took the number of four engined heavy bombers even further, staying here until August 1st the following year, at which point they were disbanded only to be reborn at Wittering in 1956.

By now, the RAF’s long range jet bomber, the Canberra, had been in service for a few years, and had proved itself as a more than capable aircraft. A first generation medium bomber, it was designed by W. E. W. ‘Teddy’ Petter, and would go on to set the world altitude record of 70,310 ft two years after entering service here at Upwood.

The success of the Canberra would be one to rival the Lancaster and Spitfire. Being built in twenty-seven different versions, it was exported to over fifteen countries world wide. In the RAF it served with no less than thirty-five squadrons, several of them ending up here at Upwood. Over 900 examples were built by British companies, with a further 403 being built under licence by the American Martin Company and designated the B-57. In RAF service, it reigned for fifty-seven years, the last examples being stood down in 2006.

Between 22nd May 1955 and 11th September 1961, eight RAF squadrons: 18, 61, 50, 40, 76, 542 and finally 21,  were all disbanded at Upwood, and all operating the aforementioned Canberra; primarily the B.2 or B.6 models, few of them operating the model for more than three years. There was also a return of 35 Sqn, the former Bomber Command unit who operated from Upwood in early 1940; they came over from Marham having operated as the Washington Conversion Unit before renumbering as 35 Sqn. They remained here until September 1961 whereupon they were disbanded for the penultimate time.

After the last Canberra Sqn had departed, Upwood remained under RAF control as part of the RAF’s Strike Command, until 1964 when they too pulled out leaving a small care and maintenance unit behind. Over the next few years Upwood would be used in the training of non-flying duties, until these units also left, the last in 1981. Upwood’s future now looked very insecure.

Inside the Gate house, the USAF presence. (Security Police Squadron).

Fortunately though, control of Upwood was then passed to the USAF for training and support services for nearby RAF Alconbury and RAF Lakenheath. It was earmarked for medical services, and should an attack occur during the Cold War, it would quickly be turned into a control area ready to deal with heavy nuclear attack casualties. Thankfully this was never put to the test though, and gradually the USAF phased out its use of Upwood, and as other airfields closed, personnel numbers became less and the homes they used emptied. Eventually, even the 423rd Medical Squadron pulled out, taking their community support, equipment and staff with them.

Upwood finally closed on 26th October 2012, and the remaining buildings including the NAFFI and NCO homes, were all sold off to developers and the site wound down. Since then, there have been numerous attempts to purchase the site and develop it with housing. These have all faltered along the way for one reason or another. On the positive side, the hangars remain actively used by an aero-engine company who refurbish jet engines. A glider club has been agreed a 10 year lease on the remaining parts of the runways (although these have been removed) and two Nissen huts have been fully refurbished to allow modern use. This part of the airfield looks and feels like a real and active military base, whilst the admin and medical side are ghostly reminders of its past. Standing on the site looking around, the imagination can only begin to think how this lonely and desolate place once bustled with crews and aircraft, crews going about their business and vehicles ferrying aircrew to their machines.

RAF Upwood’s hangars are still in use today. Aero engines outside await work.

Today it is an enormous site covered with derelict buildings as if left following an atomic blast. The windows are all shattered, the buildings vandalised and graffiti daubed on all the walls. Two tanks have been brought in and a small urban assault company use it for mock battles. The guardroom, officers quarters and associated mess halls all remain, some in a worse state than others.

In 2017 the redundant site was acquired without conditions, and planning permission obtained for a comprehensive development of a small six acres of the site. This plan, put forward by Lochailort *⁵ included 60 houses. Huntingdon District Council have now incorporated Upwood into their long term Local Plan, and a proposal is under consideration for further development which would include the removal of large quantities of the buildings. It would also see hardstands being replaced by a mix of housing (450 homes) and business premises. The intention is to keep the architecturally significant buildings and layout, along with the hangars, thus retaining the military atmosphere, developing it “in a way which respects its setting and former use“.*⁴ I only hope that the sympathetic approach is indeed used, and that this incredible and historic site does not become another of Britain’s matchbox towns.

Post Script:

A website dedicated to RAF Upwood shows a range of older photographs, squadron details and information about Upwood’s history. Created by Sean Edwards, it is well worth a visit for more specific details.

A local gentleman has purchased a scrapped Canberra nose section that once flew  from Upwood, and has rebuilt it. It remains in his garage and is displayed at shows around the country.

Sources and further reading.

National Archives – AIR 27/379/4
National Archives – AIR-27-961-4

BAE Systems Website

*¹ Photo from the UK Archives, (https://www.flickr.com/photos/nationalarchives) no known copyright restrictions.

*² Josepf Jakobs story can be read on the: Josef Jakobs blog with further information on the Upwood Website.

*³ Middlebrook, M & Everitt, C. “The Bomber Command War Diaries 1939-1945“, Midland Publishing (1996)

*⁴ Huntingdonshire District Council Local Plan Proposal

*⁵ Lochailort Investments Ltd, Webiste.

Thirsk, I., “de Havilland Mosquito an illustrated History – Vol 2” Crecy publishing (2006)

For more information and details of the Pathfinders, see the excellent RAF Pathfinders Archive at: https://raf-pathfinders.com/

The full text can be read in Trail 17 – The Pathfinders