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 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.

Aiming to sink these ships, the RAF became involved undertaking a total of 299 attacks against them whilst they were stationed in the port. During these attacks, 43 aircraft were lost along with 247 airmen. The ships were indeed hit, and in the case of Scharnhorst, damaged badly, but none 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.

Both Galland and other Luftwaffe officials knew that there were too few available fighters in the region – some two groups and a few training units – to be able to provide 24 hour protection of the ships as they dashed through the straights. Night fighters were 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, now monitoring their actions, began a series of raids on the port, none of which proved to be successful.

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 this challenge, Galland had some 252 fighters, including a mix of 109s, 190s and some thirty 110 night fighters at his disposal, but 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, but miraculously the British launched a routine air raid and 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 finally slip out into the Channel waters. 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, the Germans intercepted a British message signalling the spotting of the fleet. But it remained another hour before further aircraft were seen, the British being wary and unsure of the message’s accuracy.

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 and British MTBs, all to no avail though.

Now fully aware of the situation, the RAF and Navy were called into action. At RAF Manston, eighteen young men took off on what was a daring and almost suicidal mission in both outdated and out gunned Swordfish biplanes, to attack the escaping German fleet. The fleet, some sixty-six surface vessels, now sailed 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.

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 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 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 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 but also for the Royal Air Force. A force of some 100 aircraft made up from almost every Group of Bomber Command also 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, and questioning the “suitability of Admiral Sir Dudley Pound”, to fulfil his role. The paper goes onto say that a lag of some nine hours had largely been ignored by officials, 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.

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.

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

For further information on the Bomber Command role see the RAF Pathfinder’s archive Website.

Remembrance Sunday November 2022

At the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month 1918, the guns on the western front fell silent. Four years of war in which millions were either killed or wounded, towns and villages wiped from the map and the environment changed forever, had finally come to an end. All along the front line, men were soon to put down their arms and leave their trenches for home.

The war to end all wars had finally come to an end. During the last four years some 40 million people had been killed or wounded, many simply disappeared in the mud that bore no preference to consuming man or machine.

Back home, virtually no city, town, village or hamlet was left unscathed by the loss of those four years. Many who returned home were changed, psychologically many were wounded beyond repair.

Sadly, twenty years later, the world slipped into the abyss of war once more. A war that saw some of the most incredible horrors, one that saw the extreme capabilities of what man can do to his fellow-man. Across the world millions of innocent people were slaughtered under the guise of an ideology. An ideology that was determined to rid the world of anyone who was willing to speak out against that very same ideology.

Young men were transported thousands of miles to fight in environments completely alien to them. Many had never been beyond their own home town and yet here they were in foreign lands fighting a foe they had never even met.

The bravery and self-sacrifice of those young men  on the seas, on the land and in the air, go beyond anything we can offer as repayment today.

For nearly 80 years, the world has been at an uneasy rest, Korea, Vietnam, the Falklands, the Middle East, and the Far East, in almost every corner of the globe there has been a war in which our service men and women have been involved. The war to end all wars failed in its aim to bring peace to the world.

In this year, 104 years after the end of the First World War, we remember those who laid down their lives in the fight for freedom. We remember those who fought for the right to free speech, for the right to be who you are and the right to live our lives in peace.

We will remember them…

St Mary’s Great Bircham

The rosette of the Commonwealth Air Forces – St. Clement Danes

Tyne Cot, Ypres

The American Cemetery Madingley

Anthem for Doomed Youth

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing down of blinds.

Wilfred Owen (18/3/1893 – 4/11/1914)

Lt. Col. Leon Vance 489th BG – Medal of Honour.

The story of Leon Vance is one of  the saddest stories to emerge from the Second World War. He was a young American, who through his bravery and dedication, saved the lives of his colleagues and prevented their heavily stricken aircraft from crashing into populated areas of southern England. Following a mission over France, his was very severely injured, but miraculously fought on.

Leon Robert Vance, Jr. known as ‘Bob’ to his family and friends, was born in Enid, Oklahoma, on August 11th, 1916. He graduated from high school in 1933 after receiving many honours and being singled out as a high performing athlete. He went on, after University, to the prestigious Training College at West Point in 1935, staying until his graduation four years later in 1939. It was here, at West Point, he would meet and marry his wife Georgette Brown. He and Georgette would later have a daughter, after whom Vance would name his own aircraft ‘The Sharon D’.

Vance would become an aircrew instructor, and would have various postings around the United States. He became great friends with a Texan, Lieutenant Horace S. Carswell, with whom he would leave the Air Corps training program to fly combat missions in B-24 Liberators. They became great friends but would go on to fight in different theatres.

Prior to receiving his posting, Vance undertook training on Consolidated B-24s. Then, in October 1943, as a Lieutenant Colonel, he was posted to Europe with the newly formed 489th Bombardment Group (Heavy), as the Deputy Group Commander. One of the last groups to be assigned to the European theatre, they formed part of the 95th Combat Bombardment Wing (2nd Bomb Division),  Eighth Air Force, and were sent to RAF Halesworth (RAF Holton) designated Station 365 by the USAAF.

The group left their initial base at Wendover Field, Utah in April / May 1944 and their first mission would be that same month on May 30th, 1944, as part of a combined attack on communication sites, rail yards and airfields. A total of 364 B-24s were to attack the Luftwaffe bases at Oldenburg, Rotenburg and Zwischenahn, along with other targets of opportunity far to the north in the German homeland. With only 1 aircraft lost and 38 damaged, it was considered a success and a good start to the 489th’s campaign.

As the build up to Normandy developed, Vance and the 489th would be assigned to bombing targets in northern France in support of the Normandy invasion about to take place further to the south. An area the unit would concentrate on, prior to the Allied beach invasion on June 6th that year.

The day before D-day, the 489th would fly to Wimereaux, in the Pas-de-Calais region of northern France. This would be Leon Vance’s final mission.

B-24H Liberator of the 489thBG, RAF Halesworth*²

The group, (Mission 392),  consisted of 423 B-17s and 203 B-24s and were to hit German coastal defences including: Le Havre, Caen, Boulogne and Cherbourg areas as  a precursor to the Normandy invasion. Some 127 P-47s and 245 P-51s would support the attacks. The 489th would assemble at 22,500 feet on the morning of June 5th, proceed to the south of Wimereaux, fly over dropping their payload, and then return to England. On the run in to the target, Vance was stationed behind the pilot and copilot.  The lead plane encountered a problem and bombs failed to jettison. Vance ordered a second run, and it was on this run that his plane, Missouri Sue, took several devastating hits.

Four of the crew members, including the pilot were killed and Vance himself was severely injured. His foot became lodged in the metal work behind the co-pilots seat. There were frantic calls over the intercom and the situation looked bad for those remaining on board. To further exacerbate the problems, one of the 500lb bombs had remained inside the bomb bay armed and in a deadly state, three of the four engines were disabled, and fuel spewed from ruptured lines inside the fuselage.

Losing height rapidly, the co-pilot put the aircraft into a dive to increase airspeed. The radio operator, placed a makeshift tourniquet around Vance’s leg, and the fourth engine was feathered.  They would then glide toward the English coast.

The aircraft was too damaged to control safely, so once over English soil, Vance ordered those who could, to bail out. He then turned the aircraft himself out to the English Channel to attempt a belly landing on the water. A dangerous operation in any aircraft, let alone a heavy bomber with an armed bomb and no power.

Still trapped by the remains of his foot, laying on the floor and using only aileron and elevators, he ensured the remaining crew left before the aircraft struck the sea. The impact caused the upper turret to collapse, effectively trapping Vance inside the cockpit. By sheer luck, an explosion occurred that threw Vance out of the sinking wreckage,  his foot now severed.  He remained in the sea searching for whom he believed to be the radio operator, until picked up by the RAF’s Air Sea Rescue units.

Vance was alive, but severely injured. He would spend a number of weeks, recuperating in hospital, writing home and gradually regaining his strength. Disappointed that his flying career was over, he looked forward to seeing his wife and young child once more. However, on a recuperation trip to London, Vance met a young boy, who innocently, and without thought, told him he wouldn’t miss his foot. The emotional, impact of this comment was devastating to Vance and he fell into depression. Then, news of his father’s death pushed him down even further.

Eventually, on July 26th, 1944 Vance was given the all clear to return home and he joined other wounded troops on-board a C-54, bound for the US. It was never to arrive there.

The aircraft disappeared somewhere between Iceland and Newfoundland. It has never been found nor has the body of Leon Vance or any of the others on board that day. Vance’s recommendations for the Medal of Honour came through in the following  January (4th), but at the request of his wife, was delayed until October 11th 1946, so his daughter could be presented the medal in her father’s name.

The citation for Leon Vance reads:

“For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty on 5 June 1944, when he led a Heavy Bombardment Group, in an attack against defended enemy coastal positions in the vicinity of Wimereaux, France. Approaching the target, his aircraft was hit repeatedly by antiaircraft fire which seriously crippled the ship, killed the pilot, and wounded several members of the crew, including Lt. Col. Vance, whose right foot was practically severed. In spite of his injury, and with 3 engines lost to the flak, he led his formation over the target, bombing it successfully. After applying a tourniquet to his leg with the aid of the radar operator, Lt. Col. Vance, realizing that the ship was approaching a stall altitude with the 1 remaining engine failing, struggled to a semi-upright position beside the copilot and took over control of the ship. Cutting the power and feathering the last engine he put the aircraft in glide sufficiently steep to maintain his airspeed. Gradually losing altitude, he at last reached the English coast, whereupon he ordered all members of the crew to bail out as he knew they would all safely make land. But he received a message over the interphone system which led him to believe 1 of the crew members was unable to jump due to injuries; so he made the decision to ditch the ship in the channel, thereby giving this man a chance for life. To add further to the danger of ditching the ship in his crippled condition, there was a 500-pound bomb hung up in the bomb bay. Unable to climb into the seat vacated by the copilot, since his foot, hanging on to his leg by a few tendons, had become lodged behind the copilot’s seat, he nevertheless made a successful ditching while lying on the floor using only aileron and elevators for control and the side window of the cockpit for visual reference. On coming to rest in the water the aircraft commenced to sink rapidly with Lt. Col. Vance pinned in the cockpit by the upper turret which had crashed in during the landing. As it was settling beneath the waves an explosion occurred which threw Lt. Col. Vance clear of the wreckage. After clinging to a piece of floating wreckage until he could muster enough strength to inflate his life vest he began searching for the crew member whom he believed to be aboard. Failing to find anyone he began swimming and was found approximately 50 minutes later by an Air-Sea Rescue craft. By his extraordinary flying skill and gallant leadership, despite his grave injury, Lt. Col. Vance led his formation to a successful bombing of the assigned target and returned the crew to a point where they could bail out with safety. His gallant and valorous decision to ditch the aircraft in order to give the crew member he believed to be aboard a chance for life exemplifies the highest traditions of the U.S. Armed Forces”*²

Leon Vance’s actions would be remembered. His local base in Oklahoma was renamed ‘Vance Air Force Base’ on July 9th, 1949. The gate at Tinker Air Force Base, Oklahoma was also later named after him on May 9th, 1997, and his name appears on the ‘Wall of the Missing’ at Madingley American War Cemetery in Cambridge, England.

The American War Cemetery, Madingley. Leon Vance’s Name Appears on the wall of the missing (to the left of the picture).

Leon Robert Vance, Jr. (August 11th, 1916 – July 26th, 1944)

For other personal tales, see the Heroic Tales Page.

Sources.

* Photo public domain via Wikipedia

*¹ “Medal of Honor recipients – website World War II”.

*² Photo Public Domain via Wikipedia.

Remembrance Day 2021 – At the going down of the sun…

At the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month 1918, the guns on the western front fell silent. Four years of war in which millions were either killed or wounded, towns and villages wiped from the map and the environment changed forever, had finally come to an end. All along the front line, men were soon to put down their arms and leave their trenches for home.

The war to end all wars had finally come to an end. During the last four years some 40 million people had been killed or wounded, many simply disappeared in the mud that bore no preference to consuming man or machine.

Back home, virtually no city, town, village or hamlet was left unscathed by the loss of those four years. Many who returned home were changed, psychologically many were wounded beyond repair.

Sadly, twenty years later, the world slipped into the abyss of war once more. A war that saw some of the most incredible horrors, one that saw the extreme capabilities of what man can do to his fellow-man. Across the world millions of innocent people were slaughtered under the guise of an ideology. An ideology that was determined to rid the world of anyone who was willing to speak out against that very same ideology.

Young men were transported thousands of miles to fight in environments completely alien to them. Many had never been beyond their own home town and yet here they were in foreign lands fighting a foe they had never even met.

The bravery and self-sacrifice of those young men  on the seas, on the land and in the air, go beyond anything we can offer as repayment today.

For nearly 80 years, the world has been at an uneasy rest, Korea, Vietnam, the Falklands, the Middle East, and the Far East, in almost every corner of the globe there has been a war in which our service men and women have been involved. The war to end all wars failed in its aim to bring peace to the world.

In this year, we remember those who laid down their lives in the fight for freedom. We remember those who fought for the right to free speech, for the right to be who you are and the right to live our lives in peace.

We will remember them…

St Mary’s Great Bircham

The rosette of the Commonwealth Air Forces – St. Clement Danes

Tyne Cot, Ypres

The American Cemetery Madingley

Anthem for Doomed Youth

What passing-bells for these who die as cattle?
Only the monstrous anger of the guns.
Only the stuttering rifles’ rapid rattle
Can patter out their hasty orisons.
No mockeries now for them; no prayers nor bells,
Nor any voice of mourning save the choirs,
The shrill, demented choirs of wailing shells;
And bugles calling for them from sad shires.

What candles may be held to speed them all?
Not in the hands of boys, but in their eyes
Shall shine the holy glimmers of goodbyes.
The pallor of girls’ brows shall be their pall;
Their flowers the tenderness of patient minds,
And each slow dusk a drawing down of blinds.

Wilfred Owen (18/3/1893 – 4/11/1914)

B-17 Pilot 1st Lt.D. J. Gott and 2nd. Lt W. E. Metzger

War makes men do terrible things to their fellow mankind. But through all the horror and sometimes insurmountable odds, courage and bravery shine through. Two gallant young men both in the same B-17 were awarded the Medal of Honour for acts of extreme bravery in the face of certain death.

Born on 3 June  1923, Arnett. Oklahoma, Donald Joseph Gott, began his air force career at the local base in 1943. By the end of the first year he had achieved the rank of First Lieutenant in the US Army Air Corps. Posted with the 729th. Bomber Squadron, 452nd Bombardment Group to Deopham Green, Norfolk, England, he was to fly a B-17 (42-97904) ‘Lady Jeannette’ along with his crew and co-pilot  William E. Metzger.

Metzger was born February  9, 1922 – Lima, Ohio and by the time he was 22 he was a 2nd Lieutenant. He was to meet Gott at Deopham Green, Norfolk and together they would fly a number of missions over occupied Europe bombing strategic targets.

On the 9th November 1944, they took off with their crew on a mission that would take them into the German heartland to bomb the marshalling yards at Saarbrucken.

On this run, the aircraft, was badly hit by flak, three of the engines caught fire and were inoperable, the fires were so fierce that they were reaching the tail of the stricken aircraft.

Further fires within the fuselage started when flares were ignited, and this rapidly caught a hold. Hydraulic lines were severed and the liquid from within was jettisoned onto the burning fuselage.  With communication lines cut and unable to contact the crew, both Gott and Metzger had some difficult decisions to make. They had not yet reached the target, the aircraft still held its bomb load and they were deep into occupied territory.

The crew too had suffered badly at the hands of the anti-aircraft fire. The engineer was wounded in the leg and the radio operators  arm was severed below the elbow causing great pain and loss of blood. He would die very quickly if medical help was not found. Despite the quick thinking and application of  tourniquet by fellow crew members, he soon passed out and fell unconscious.

Gott and Metzger decided that jettisoning the injured radio operator  would not result in his receiving medical help and so they would drop the bombs and head for the nearest friendly territory where they could crash-land. Doing this, would risk not only the life of the operator, but that of the crew and themselves should the stricken aircraft explode.

Over the target, they released their bombs and flew alone toward allied territory. Flying low over the village of Hattonville, the aircraft was seen to swerve avoiding a church and homes. At this point, Metzger personally crawled through the aircraft and instructed the crew to bail out. Three chutes were seen by local people, two fell to earth and the third became entangled on the stabiliser and was trapped. A further three were seen moments later, all these escaped. Metzger decided to remain with Gott and try to land the aircraft with the radio operator on board. With only one working engine, Gott and Metzger brought the aircraft down through a series of tight turns and at only 100 feet from safety the aircraft banked and exploded. Crashing to earth it again suffered a second explosion and disintegrated killing all three crew members on board and the crew member still attached to the tail.

1st Lieutenant Gott and his co-pilot 2nd Lieutenant Metzger had shown great courage and determination to complete their mission, and to save their crew from certain death. They had shown the greatest of  valour in what was to be the final act of their short lives.

Both men were killed on that day, November 4th 1944 aged 21 and 22 respectively. They were both posthumously awarded the Medal of Honour on the 16th May 1945.

Gott’s remains were returned to the United States and he was buried at the Harmon Cemetery, in Harmon, Ellis County, Oklahoma, USA. Metzger, was returned to his home town and was buried at Woodlawn Cemetery, Lima, Ohio.

Along with Gott and Metzger, crew members who did not survive were:  T/Sgt Robert A, Dunlap and S/Sgt T.G. Herman B, Krimminger. The survivors were picked up by a a local field hospital and treated for their injuries: 2nd lt John A, Harland ; 2nd lt Joseph F, Harms ; S/Sgt B.T. James O, Fross ; S/Sgt R.W. William R, Robbins and T/Sg T.T. Russell W Gustafson.

A memorial now stands close to the site of the crash site.

2nd Lieutenant William Metzger

1st Lieutenant Donald Gott

Sqn. Ldr. Edgar A. Good (RCAF)

On a recent visit to Houghton Hall in Norfolk, I came across a small church in the grounds, which held a number of graves belonging to those who had lived in the nearby village.

One of these was that of a pilot, 29 year old Squadron Leader, Edgar Andrew Good (s/n: C/18640), of 280 Squadron RAF Thornaby, North Yorkshire.

It turns out that Sqn. Ldr. Good was a Canadian, killed whilst undertaking an Air Sea Rescue (ASR) mission on 13th November 1943, whilst flying in a Vickers Warwick.

The Warwick was a Vickers Armstrong aircraft, issued to the squadron in October 1943. The aircraft was originally intended to be a bomber, built to meet specification B.1/35 it would be the largest twin-engined aircraft to serve during World War 2. It had a striking resemblance to the Wellington, utilising Barnes Wallis’s geodetic design. Models operating in the ASR role were capable of carrying Lindholme rescue gear and/or droppable lifeboats.

On 13th November 1943, three crews were briefed at Thornaby and ordered out to perform a search and rescue operation for a missing aircrew. Sqn. Ldr. Good departed at 16:40 and headed toward the Dutch coast where it was thought the aircraft had come down. After searching the area, nothing was seen and so the three aircraft began their return leg to RAF Thornaby across the North Sea.

On approaching the British coastline, the weather deteriorated significantly and the aircraft entered a thunderstorm. Two of the aircraft including Sqn. Ldr. Good’s Warwick (BV336) were struck by lightning, suffering damage to electronic equipment and loss of the radio. Severe turbulence and icing then caused further problems, making the Warwick difficult to control. Over land the weather failed to improve and control of the aircraft appears to have been lost by Sqn. Ldr. Good.

With no communication with the ground, the Warwick then entered a spin diving onto the ground at an area known as Sleights Moor, near Whitby in Yorkshire. There were no survivors.

The crew of Warwick BV336 were:

Squadron Leader Edgar Andrew Good, (pilot) s/n: C/18640
Flying Officer Willis Wylie Coons, (navigator) s/n: J/17250
Flying Officer Dennis Maurice Stewart, (wireless op. and air gunner) s/n: 115344
Flight Sgt. William Vernon Crockett, (wireless op. and air gunner) s/n: R/98771
Flight Sgt. Douglas Allan Payton, (wireless op. and air gunner) s/n: R/105266
Warrant Officer Henry George Richardson, (air gunner) s/n: 1377980

The second Warwick struck by lightning also entered a dive, but he pilot of this aircraft managed to regain control and return to Thornaby without further problems.

Although flying with the Canadian Air Force, Sqn. Ldr. Good was the Son of Nickolai Andreyev and Nina Andreyevna. After hod father died, his mother married Joseph Good (husband of Elaine Blair Good). The family eventually left Russia emigrating to Canada living in Montreal after becoming naturalised Canadians in 1922. After studying in both Canada and the US, Edgar then joined the RAF obtaining his wings in 1937. He was then sent to RAF Bircham Newton, where he would later return to and 280 Sqn.

The inscription on his headstone reads:

All that you hoped for, all you had, you gave to save mankind…”
Air Sea Rescue Service.

He is buried in Houghton (St. Martin) Churchyard (Houghton Hall).

The grave of Squadron Leader, Good.

Sources:

Commonwealth War Graves Commission website.

Aviation-safety website.

RAF Downham Market (Part 1 – The beginning)

In Trail 7, we visited the northern part of Norfolk, not far from the coast where it borders Cambridgeshire to the west and the North Sea to the north and east. In this part of the trail we visit a site that was once one of Norfolk’s most prestigious airfields, where not one, but two VCs were awarded to airmen of the RAF.

Not far from RAF Marham, we return to this once busy airfield to see what is left and take another look at the incredible history that was RAF Downham Market.

RAF Downham Market (Bexwell)

Located in the corner of the A10 and A1122, 10 miles south of Kings Lynn and and 15 miles north east of Ely, RAF Downham Market (known locally as Bexwell) was only open for four years. Yet considering its relatively short life, it created for itself a unique history that was, and remains, unprecedented in military history.

Built by W. & C. French Ltd., it was primarily a bomber station serving initially with 2 Group before transferring to 3 Group and then to 8 PFF (Pathfinder) Group, Bomber Command. Opened as a satellite station to RAF Marham, it eventually became an airfield in its own right, achieving this status on 3rd March 1944, when it became a parent station itself.

One of the several buildings surviving at Downham Market.

Downham opened in 1942 as a bomber station, a role it performed for the duration of the Second World War. To achieve this, it would require substantial runways and a number of dispersed accommodation sites. As a classic Class ‘A’ airfield, it was spread over a large area incorporating two main sites, the main airfield to the north and the accommodation to the south. It was equipped to accommodate 1,719 male and 326 female personnel at its peak. A network of small roads would link all these dispersed sites together.

Downham would have three concrete runways the main being 1,900 yards long running east-west, whilst the second and third ran north-west to south-east and north-east to south-west, each 1,400 yds long. The classic ‘A’ formed by these runways, was linked by a perimeter track with 36 original pan style hardstands. At its peak, Downham boasted seven hangers, six ‘T2’ and one ‘B1’ which replaced two of the hardstands reducing the number to 34. None of these hangars survive here today. It had the usual bomb store (to the north east), technical area (south side) and eight accommodation areas spread well to the south and south west. As with all these Class ‘A’ stations, the two areas were separated by a public road, the ‘airfield’ to the north and accommodation to the south.

Today, little remains of the actual airfield site, the runways having been removed some considerable time ago. However, on the technical site there are a number of buildings still remaining, and in the accommodation areas further buildings also exist. All of these are either used by local industry or local farmers.

On opening, Downham received its first residents, the Stirling MK.Is of 218 (Gold Coast) Squadron. Arriving on the 8th July 1942, they would retain these aircraft until February 1943, when the new updated Stirling MK.III was brought into squadron service. 218 Sqn had a history that went back to the First World War; disbanded in 1919 they had been reborn in 1936, and were posted to France where their Fairey Battles were decimated by the superior fighters of the Luftwaffe. In November 1940, prior to arriving here at Downham, the squadron joined 3 Group, it remained operational with this Group for the remainder of the war.

On July 6th, they began preparing for their move to Downham, aircraft were stood down and no operational flying took place. On the morning of the 7th, thirteen Stirlings departed RAF Marham, completing the 10 mile straight line flight they arrived at Downham fifteen minutes later. By midnight, the entire squadron had transferred over, and crews were settling into their new quarters. Over the next few days air tests, fighter affiliations and cross country flying were the order of the day, the first operational flight not taking place until the 12th. In Stirling ‘HA-N’ was P.O. Farquharson and in ‘HA-R’ was Sgt. Hartley. A ‘gardening’ mission, only two crews were assigned and briefed but records show that “The vegetables were planted in the allotted positions. 18,000lb of seed were planted during this effort“*¹. With that, Downham Market had now entered the war.

Over the next few weeks operations began to build, and targets moved into Germany itself. Lubeck, Vegesack, Duisberg, Hamburg and Saarbrucken were all on the initial list of operations. Apart from early returners due to ice or poor weather, all operations were considered successful and bombing was ‘accurate’.

On 29th July, a royal party visited RAF Downham Market to see how the crews were settling in at the new station. Led by Air Vice Marshall HRH The Duke of Kent, and accompanied by Sir Louis Grieg KBE CBO (ret),  the party were given an official tour of the airfield by Wing Commander P. D. Holder DFC – the Station Commander. After talking to a number of ground crews and watching Stirlings being bombed up, the Royal party then sampled the delights of the officers mess before departing the airfield.

In February 1943, 218 began replacing their Stirling MK.Is with the upgraded MK.IIIs, the last model of the Stirling bomber before they were relegated to other duties. By June, the last of the MK.Is were gone. Although fitted with better engines, the MK.III still remained limited by both its short wingspan and poorly designed bomb-bay.

In the following month a major decision was made to install the still experimental FIDO fog dispersal system here at Downham Market. With RAF Graveley only just having hers installed, the benefits of this system were by now bearing fruits, but despite this, only fifteen British airfields were to have the system installed. FIDO used oil burnt through a series of pipes set alongside the runway. These burners were supplied from large storage tanks, which in Downham’s case, were located to the south-east just off the airfield site. Each tank was filled by road from Kings Lynn, five tankers carrying out two runs each to complete the fill. Oil from these tanks, was then fed into the system – which was installed along the main east-west runway – by large pumps. Once lit, the burners could clear extensive fog or mist in a relatively quick time. The main storage tank site is today a car dealership, all signs of the network of pipes having since been removed.

Downham’s FIDO installation was slow at first, and only covered the initial touchdown area and the first 700 yards of the main east-west runway. A number of burner types were fitted at Downham over a period of time, starting with the MK.III or Haigill burner. These were in turn were replaced y the MK.IV and eventually, when labour became more available, the MK.V which was a sturdier, longer lasting burner capable of withstanding much heavier use.  It wouldn’t be until late 1943/44 that a longer section of the system was installed, now extending to 1,362 yds, almost the entire length of the main runway. The problem with FIDO was always where runways crossed, and here the pipes had to be placed below ground level. Along side the runway they were above ground, and with difficulty in seeing, some aircraft did manage to damage the piping on more than one occasion. With experimental lighting and landings used in the autumn of 1943, the first use of the system was on the night of December 16th/17th that year, when a large number of aircraft returning from Berlin were diverted to Downham due to their own bases being fog bound.

Over 35 aircraft landed at Downham that night, the toll on crews had FIDO not been in existence would certainly have been considerably higher than the terrible price that had already been paid on that disastrous night over Berlin. FIDO with all its counter arguments, had proved its worth in one fell swoop.

The Short Stirling, the first of the heavies for Bomber Command, was liked by many crews, but its short-comings were to become apparent all too soon. One of its problems was its enormous height, created through its huge and weak, undercarriage, which sometimes made landings difficult. Another recurring problem was a significant swing to port when taking off, combine the two features, and you have a difficult aeroplane to control at the best of times, let alone when badly damaged or in very poor weather.

One of the first casualties at Downham occurred on the morning of May 14th 1943, when Stirling ‘BF480’ HA-I piloted by Sgt. W. Carney, swung on touchdown careering off the runway into the Watch Office. No injuries were sustained by those onboard, but two other crewmen on the ground, who had previously landed, were killed in the accident. Coincidentally, another 218 Sqn Stirling, ‘EF367’, HA-G had a similar landing away at RAF Chedburgh at the same time on the same night. Onboard that aircraft there were an American and a New Zealander, all but two of the crewmen were killed, the others  escaping with injuries.

With plans for the invasion of occupied Europe well in hand by mid 1943, movements across Britain were starting to take place. At Downham a number of hangars were used to store Horsa gliders (hence the large number on site) ready for the invasion the following year. Between April 1943 and March 1944 the airfield was awash with stored examples. Accompanying the gliders were No. 14 Heavy Glider Maintenance Section, who maintained and prepared the gliders ready for when they were needed.

In the August 1943, an element of 218 Sqn was extracted to create a new squadron, 623 Sqn, using the MK.III Stirlings already on site. On the very day they were formed, 10th August 1943, four crews were briefed for operations, the target Nuremberg. Unfortunately, once over the target, crews had difficulty in distinguishing any relevant ground detail, and as a result, bombs were scattered over a wide area and the operation was largely unsuccessful. With little opposition all aircraft returned to Downham safely.

One of the many huts that were left on the airfield.

However, two days after this on the night of August 12th /13th 1943, it was a different matter. It was whilst flying a 218 Sqn Stirling over Turin, that Flight Sergeant Arthur Louis Aaron, would suffer bullet strikes to his head that would break his jaw and tear away a large part of his face. Further bullets damaged his lung and right arm rendering it useless. Aaron still fought on though, despite his severe injuries, managing to assist the bomb-aimer in flying the stricken Stirling away from the enemy. Unable to speak, he communicated instructions to his bomb-aimer by writing with his left hand. Aaron attempted on four occasions to land the plane, but with failing strength, he was persuaded to vacate the cockpit; enabling the bomb-aimer to complete the belly landing on the fifth attempt. Aaron later died from exhaustion, the consequence of his determination and unparalleled allegiance to his crew, his aircraft and his duty. Aaron was the first of two pilots to receive the Victoria Cross whilst at Downham Market – both for extreme bravery in the face of the enemy.

The new squadron 623 Sqn, like many other squadrons however, was to be a short lived one. With high demand for Stirlings in the Conversion Units, it was decided to utilise the aircraft of 623 Sqn for this role, and on December 6th 1943 the unit was officially disbanded. Some crews returned to 218 Sqn but many others were posted out to new units. Flying of a total of 150 sorties in just four months, the squadron would lose ten aircraft, a loss rate of almost 7%.

The void left by 623 Sqn would be soon filled though. Just four days later another unit would transfer in, that of 214 (Federated Malay States) Sqn from RAF Chedburgh also a Stirling MK.III unit. For the majority of December, 214 Sqn would carry out ‘gardening’ missions, dropping mines designated ‘Nectarines‘ or ‘Cinnamon‘. Other operations would see bombs dropped on ‘Special Targets‘ although the Operational Records don’t specify the identity of these targets. 214 Sqn as with 623 Sqn, would be another of these short stay units, on January 17th 1944 they would transfer to RAF Sculthorpe and 100 Group, for RCM (electronic warfare) duties and a new aircraft, the B-17 Flying Fortress or Fortress I. As crews carried out circuits, lectures and training at Sculthorpe, the remainder of the squadron continued operations from Downham. By the 24th January though, all personnel had transferred over and Downham Market was far behind them.

In March 1944, Downham’s long standing unit 218 Sqn was finally ordered out, and on the 7th the entire squadron departed, the operations books simply stating: “218 Sqn moved from Downham Market to Woolfox Lodge by road and air today“. *² Once at Woolfox Lodge, they would begin disposing of their Stirlings to take on the new heavy bomber – the Avro Lancaster.

The dust wasn’t allowed to settle at Downham however, and before long more personnel and a new Squadron would arrive, ready to fill the skies of Norfolk. This was no ordinary squadron though. With concerns about the poor quality of bombing and the lack of accuracy, it was decided to form a new Group that went much against the wishes of Arthur Harris. Seen as ‘elitist’, Harris vehemently disagreed with the new Group and fought his corner bravely. But with little choice in the matter and lacking his own high level support, he eventually succumbed to the Air Ministry’s demands, putting in command the Australian Group Captain Donald C.T Bennett, CB, CBE, DSO.

The new group would be called 8 Group (PFF) ‘The Pathfinders’, and was designed to use the cream of Bomber Command crews whose record for bombing had been excellent. Aircraft from the Group were to fly ahead of the main bomber force and ‘mark’ the target by various means – coloured flares being the primary and main method. In principle it worked well, but as records show, it was not without its own difficulties or setbacks.

Bennett, an aggressive pilot who didn’t suffer fools gladly, quickly won the admiration of his crews. He was also highly admired by Harris, who once described him as the the “most efficient airman” he had ever met; Harris considered Bennett perfect for the role. In appointing Bennett, Harris dismissed all other possible candidates including Air Chief Marshall Basil Embry, the Air Ministry’s most likely favourite.

The Pathfinders were officially formed on 15th August 1942, with 8 Group coming into official formation in January 1943. With the arrival of the new Squadron, 635 Sqn, Downham would now be playing its part in this role. This change would also mean a change in aircraft type at this Norfolk airfield, out went the now relegated Stirlings and in came Avro’s remarkable four engined heavy, the Lancaster MK.III.

The remains of the Technical site looking toward the airfield.

635 Sqn was created under the command of Wing Commander Alan George Seymour Cousens on March 20th 1944. Using ‘C’ Flight from RAF Graveley’s 35 Sqn and ‘C’ Flight from RAF Bourn’s 97 Sqn. A total of eight aircraft and crews from each flight immediately began the move to Downham. At 09:15 the first of the road crews arrived from Bourn, with further sporadic arrivals until 11:00. The first aircraft to arrive touched down at 12:00, and within the next 20 minutes all aircraft were safely on the ground. Graveley crews began arriving soon after this, their first aircraft, along with a ground party, arriving at 15:05.

The new squadron consisted of 36 Officers, 120 NCOs and 200 ‘other ranks’. They were accommodated in Site ‘J’ whilst 20 NCOs and 40 armourers were accommodated in site ‘B’. A small number of officers were put up in the Rectory just outside the main gate of the airfield*³.

Shortly after the crews had landed, they were quickly briefed for an operation to attack Munich, but by the time the aircraft were prepared and bombs loaded, the operation was cancelled, the crews were then given the chance to settle in to their new homes.

635 Sqn would continue to use the Mk.III Lancaster for the next four months, replacing it with the Lancaster MK.VI  from March onward. This was an unusual model of the famous aircraft as it had neither a nose nor mid-upper turret, instead it was crammed with electronic radar jamming devices. Also replacing the normal three-bladed propellers were four bladed examples, aiming to improve the aircraft’s performance.

A growth in aircraft numbers and the development of Pathfinder methods soon led to a new branch of the Group, the Light Night Striking Force (LNSF) equipped with de Havilland’s ‘Wooden Wonder‘ the Mosquito.  In response to this, 571 Sqn, a new light bomber squadron equipped with the Mosquito XVI, was born here at Downham on April 5th 1944, barely two weeks after 635 Sqn themselves arrived. As a temporary measure it was decided that on April 10th, the squadron would be reduced to one Flight instead of two leaving eight aircraft plus a ‘spare’ at Downham whilst the remainder transferred to RAF Graveley. The idea behind the move was two-fold, firstly to bolster the expansion of 105 Sqn at Graveley, and secondly, to provide experience for the ground crews on the Mosquito.

The move went well, but on the 17th, a new order would come through that would change Downham yet again.

Movement order 21 required the entire 571 squadron to transfer to RAF Oakington, effective by 24th April. With that, preparations began and the advanced party moved from Downham on the 22nd followed by the rear party on the 24th. The entire squadron including the Graveley detachment were, by the end of the day, now at Oakington. Due to the move, there were no operations flown by the squadron from Downham Market during this short period of their history.

This departure left 635 Sqn as the only operational squadron at Downham Market. Whilst somewhat quieter, it is was not to be all plane sailing.

In Part 2, we see how Downham takes part in D-Day, the end of the war approaches but operations continue and Downham remains busy. After the war, the airfield is used for other purposes, and eventually closes. We then see what remains today and ask what does the future hold?

The full Trail appears in Trail 7.

RAF Narborough – The Great Government Aerodrome.

Resting not more than a mile or so from the boundary of Britain’s front line fighter base RAF Marham, is an airfield that never made it beyond the First World War. However, its importance cannot be denied nor should it be over looked. Key to aviation in Norfolk and to the Royal Air Force as a whole, it played a major part in both, and therefore is pivotal to today’s modern air force. Opened originally as a satellite by the Royal Naval Air Service, it became not only Norfolk’s first, but the biggest First World War, fixed wing aircraft airfield, only four airship stations were bigger.  Leading the way for the aviators of today’s Royal Air Force, we look back at the former RAF Narborough.

RAF Narborough

Built as the largest, aircraft based, World War One aerodrome, Narborough has been known under a range of different names. The most common, ‘The Great Government Aerodrome’ reflected not only its size (over 900 acres) but also its multinational stature; the range of aircraft and personnel based here, and its achievements in aviation history. Used by the Royal Naval Air Service (RNAS), the Royal Flying Corps (RFC) and the Royal Air Force (RAF), it would have names that reflected each of these fledgling services.

Records show that Narborough had military links as far back as 1912, in the year that the RFC was established when both the Naval Air Organisation and the Air Battalion of the Royal Engineers were combined. Unfortunately, little exists to explain what it was used for at this time, but in later years, it was used to counteract the threat from both the German Zeppelin and Schütte-Lanz airships, and also to train future pilots of the RFC and RAF.

Narborough’s history in these early days is sketchy, few specific records existing as to the many changes that were taking place at this time or to the development of the RFC and RNAS. Its activities – and history though – was no doubt influenced on July 1st 1914, when the name RNAS was officially adopted, and all Naval flying units of the RFC were transferred to the control of the Navy. A major development in the formation of both forces, there were at this point, a total of: 111 officers, 544 other ranks, seven airships,  fifty-five seaplanes (including shipborne aircraft) and forty aeroplanes in RNAS service.*¹ Some of these may well have been used at Narborough at this point.

By 1915, Narborough’s future had been sealed, designated as a satellite station to RNAS Great Yarmouth, (itself commissioned in 1913) it was initially to be used as a night landing ground for those aircraft involved in attacks on enemy airships. No crews were permanently stationed here at this time however, but as time went on ‘on-duty’ crews would fly in, and await the call to arms should an airship raid take place over East Anglia.

The first recorded arrival was in August 1915, an event that would keep the site in use by the RNAS for the next ten months, before being designated as surplus to requirements and handed over to the RFC in June 1916.

It was in June 1916 that the first RFC squadron would make use of Narborough as an airfield, 35 Sqn transferring over here from Thetford with Vickers FB.5 and FE.2bs. disposing of their DH2s and Henry Farman F.20s in the process. Within two months of their arrival, the nucleus of the squadron would then be used to form a new unit, 59 Sqn, also here at Narborough, under the command of Lieutenant A.C. Horsburgh with the RE8s. Narborough was already beginning to grow.

It was in that same month, that the perils of war would be brought home to those based at Narborough, when one of 59 Sqn’s pilots, Lt. Gordon William Hall, was killed when the DH.1 (4631) he was flying,  side slipped on approach to the airfield crashing as a result. A court of enquiry confirmed that the aircraft had been “banked too steeply” and that the pilot had put the aircraft into a dive that made it uncontrollable. A verdict of ‘accidental death’ was recorded against Lt. Hall.*²

In August, it was the turn of 35 Sqn to suffer its first fatality in a non too dissimilar accident. On the 29th, an Armstrong Whitworth F.K.3 (6201), was written off after it too side slipped and dived following a slow turn. The Pilot – Air Mechanic 1st Class –  Moses Boyd was tragically killed in the accident flying an aircraft that was based at Thetford but undertaking a training exercise here at Narborough. Already, the dangers of flying were becoming all too apparent and the glamour of flying was becoming tarnished.

Within two months, another 35 Sqn aircraft would also crash, this time one of the two crewmen, pilot 2nd Lt. Robert Leslie Edward would escape with just injuries. The observer, 2nd Lt Ernest Hildreth, however, was not so lucky and was killed in the resultant crash.

As the First World War raged on the European continent, the demand for aircraft was growing. It was quickly developing into a lethal weapon and a very potent reconnaissance vehicle. To fill vacant spaces and meet high demand, training programmes were rushed into place, meaning Narborough would become a preparation ground for new recruits. With training considered very basic by any standards, recruits only had to pass a number of tests before being sent to the front. Written examinations followed up by twenty hours solo flying, cross-country flights and two successful landings, were followed by flying for fifteen minutes at 8,000 feet and landing with a cut engine. Barely enough experience to see anyone through a violent war.

During these flights, these daring young men, many who were considered dashing heroes by the awe-inspired locals, would display their skills for all who lined the local roads to watch. As they were quickly learning though, life was not always ‘fun’, and the dangers of the craft were ever present. Accident rates were high and survival from a crash was rare, even ‘minor’ accidents could prove fatal. The local church yard at Narborough, paying testament to their dangerous career with fourteen of the eighteen graves present being RFC/RAF related.

The RFC was now building in strength, not only in its front line units but in its reserves too. On November 2nd, 1916 a new reserve squadron was constituted and formed here at Narborough, 48 (Reserve) Squadron (RS). Models flown by the unit at this time included the Grahame White XV, the Maurice Farman Shorthorn and Sopwith’s Pup. Over the next period of time, there followed a number of other reserve units: No 50, 53 and 64 (Reserve) Squadron (later designated Training Squadrons*³) all passing through Narborough at some point. However, and even with this large influx of personnel in these early days, Narborough was not to be the most exotic of locations.

As a training ground, accommodation was basic to say the least, being described by one ‘resident’ as a “desolate God-forsaken place“*⁴. It was soon realised by the authorities that new buildings needed to be erected for not only accommodation, but for training and maintenance roles as well. In response, a total of seven Boulton and Paul hangars, and up to 150 buildings would be built on the site over the next two years. A development that would by the end of the war, see some 1,000 personnel based here at Narborough – a number comparable with any modest Second World War airfield.

Meanwhile the threat from Zeppelins had not yet receded, and as a result 1916 would close with a small detachment of 51 Sqn BE.12s tasked with attacking these marauding menaces. Whilst primarily based at Hingham, 51 Sqn would have detachments spread across a number of East Anglia airfields, all preparing to meet the continued threat from Germany’s enormous airships.

With increasing numbers of squadrons and men being required for front line units in France, both 35 and 59 Squadrons departed Narborough in early 1917, and by the end of February both were gone.

2nd Lt. Allen Ingham Murphy, killed March 30th 1917 ‘in an aeroplane accident’.

This left the reserves at Narborough, and it wouldn’t be long before they too suffered causalities. The first of these to lose a valuable pilot was 50 RS on March 30th 1917. A young Canadian, not yet out of his teens, 2nd Lt. Allen Ingham Murphy, was killed when his Armstrong Whitworth F.K.8 ‘A2720’ stalled whilst turning after take off. 2nd Lt. Murphy was the first of four casualties from the units that year – training young pilots was not getting any easier.

This danger was made no more obvious than on October 29th, when two aircraft, both from 50 RS were lost in separate accidents. The first an Armstrong Whitworth FK.8 (A2730) side slipped during a turn and nose dived into the ground killing both crewmen, 2Lt. Norman Victor Spear (aged 29) and Air. Mech. 1 Sidney Walter Burrell (age 22).  The second aircraft, also an Armstrong Whitworth F.K.8 (B219) spun off a low climbing turn also killing its pilot 2Lt. Laurence Edward Stuart Vaile (aged 23). It was indeed a black day for 50 RS and a stark reminder to the trainees.

2Lt. Laurence Edward Stuart Vaile, killed in an aeroplane accident August 29th 1917.

In October and December two more units bolstered the numbers of trainees at Narborough. Firstly, 1 Training Squadron were formed here on October 1st, whilst 83 Sqn, born out of 18 (Reserve) Squadron (RS), arrived at Narborough during December that year bringing a range of aircraft that they quickly swapped for FE.2bs.

83 Squadron soon departed Narborough though, heading to France in March 1918 where they performed attacks on troop concentrations, attempting to stem the early spring offensive.

On June 8th, 1917 Lt. Hubert J. Game was killed when the B.E.2e (A2794) he was flying suffered a catastrophic wing failure when pulling out of a dive whilst looping the loop. Lt. Game was originally a Lieutenant in the Royal
Field Artillery (RFA) and was attached to 53 (Training) Sqn RFC at Narborough, when he was tragically killed. Hubert was the younger brother of Air Vice-Marshal Sir Philip Woolcott Game, and was just 26 years old at the time of his death. He is another one of those whose grave lays a short distance away from the site of Narborough airfield.

Lt. Hubert J. Game, All Saints Church Narborough.

The occurrences of these tragic accidents were becoming so frequent, that one instructor, Capt. W.E. Johns, creator of ‘Biggles’ later cited spies as the cause of many ‘accidents’ – tampering with machines causing the deaths of the crews on board. Johns, himself having written of many machines, believed Americans with German sounding names were to blame for aircraft breaking up in mid-air or crashing at the bottom of loops. More likely, the fault lay with over exuberant or poorly trained recruits.

As the war drew to a close, one further squadron would be formed here at Narborough. On New Year’s day 1918, 121 Squadron were formed here, initially created to use DH.9s, they instead flew a variety of aircraft until they moved out to Filton in mid August. Shortly after their arrival here they were disbanded.

The last months of the war had no let up in training. Keen to join the RFC young men continued to train to fly. In mid February 1918 two 18 year old boys would perhaps be fulfilling a dream when it all went tragically wrong. Flying a DH.4, 2Lt. John Fyffe Shaw and 2Lt. Charles Arkley Law were both killed after the aircraft’s engine failed causing it to stall and then nose dive into the ground.

2Lt. Charles Arkley Law killed after his engine failed and the aircraft stalled.

By August, war was over, and the the big wind down of squadrons would soon begin. At Narborough, two squadrons 69 (Training) Squadron and 26 (Reserve) Squadron would both merge to form a new 22 Training Depot Station. Many other similar units would soon follow suit and either disband or merge. This dramatic wind down continued on into, and beyond, 1919. In February, both 56 Sqn and 64 Sqn arrived as cadres; 64 Sqn was disbanded here later that year whilst 56 transferred to Bircham Newton where they too were disbanded later that same year. A third squadron, 60 Sqn also suffered the same fate, arriving as a cadre mid February before themselves being sent to Bircham Newton and disbandment.

With one last roll of the dice in mid March 1919, 55 Training Deport Station also disbanded here at Narborough, but out of the ashes was born a new unit 55 Training Squadron. With that though, Narborough was heading for closure, its days now over, it was soon to be surplus to requirements.

The post war years then saw the closure of many of Britain’s war time airfields including Narborough. But unlike its sister station RAF Marham a mile or so away, it would remain closed. The buildings were all sold off in what was considered to be one of the biggest auctions in Norfolk, with some of them going to local farmers, other for small industrial units, some to schools and the like, Narborough was now scattered to the four corners of the county. The remainder of the site was sold to the farmer and it quickly returned to agriculture, a state it remains in today. Some of these original buildings are reputed to still exist at various locations around the area today, whether that is true or not, is difficult to ascertain, but most have long since succumbed to age, the inevitable deterioration and eventual demolition.

Narborough itself having no hard runways or perimeter tracks has long since gone. A small memorial has been erected by a local group aiming to promote and preserve the memory of Narborough, a memorial plaque also marks the graves of those who never made it to France; and the small Narborough Museum & Heritage Centre holds exhibits of 59 Squadron in the local church.

The Plaque at All Saint’s Church Narborough, honouring those who served at Narborough.

Significant not only in size, but in its history, Narborough has now been relegated to the history books. But with the dedication and determination of a few people the importance and historical significance of this site will hopefully continue to influence not only the aviators of tomorrow, but also the public of today.

The Narborough memorial which sits at the entrance to Narborough airfield. It was refurbished after the original was struck by a vehicle.

Sources and further Reading (Narborough)

*¹ Fleet Air Arm Officers Association Website accessed 14/6/21

*² RAF Museum Story Vault Website accessed 14/6/21

*³ On May 31st 1917, all RFC ‘Reserve Squadrons’ were renamed ‘Training Squadrons’.

*⁴ Letter from 2/AM C. V. Williams from 59squadronraf.org.uk

Narborough appears in Trail 7.

Secrets Of The (Not So) Deep.

By Mitch Peeke.

This latest chapter in the story of B17 44-6133, which crashed in shallow water at Allhallows, Kent, in June of 1944, came about during a visit I made to The Kent Battle Of Britain Museum at Hawkinge; which ordinarily, is not perhaps the sort of of venue one might expect to find anything related to The Mighty Eighth.

I have been to this excellent museum a few times. They very graciously stocked the promotional leaflets for my own Battle Of Britain E-Book; 1940: The Battles To Stop Hitler when it came out in 2015. Four years later, in the Summer of 2019, I had organized the creation of a memorial at Allhallows, commemorating the lost crew of B17 44-6133 and later that same Summer, there I was, talking to Dave Brocklehurst MBE, Curator of the museum at Hawkinge, about my project, the memorial day we’d just held there and how there was going to be a new museum at nearby Slough Fort, which would include a display relating to the crash. The Fort has a small piece of wreckage from the B17 that had washed up on the beach front at Allhallows. It was then that Dave told me that he also had a genuine piece of that B17 in storage and he offered it to me, for inclusion in the Fort’s display. It is a fair-sized but broken piece of armour plate, thought to be a section of armour from either of the Pilots’ chairs, though Dave was by no means certain of that. We arranged for him to retrieve it from his storage section and for me to return to the museum to collect it. Then came the Covid pandemic of course!

Successive lockdowns meant I couldn’t collect it. Dave was kept extremely busy, not only with the general upkeep but also the museum’s newest acquisition; a Spanish-built Heinkel 111 that had been used in the 1969 film The Battle Of Britain, which of course had seen Hawkinge used as a filming location. Each time we made our arrangements, another lockdown put paid to our plans, then finally, we were able to make a definite date, in May of 2021, nearly two years after first discussing the idea, for me to collect the B17 artefact.

Dave Brocklehurst MBE, (right) Curator of The Kent Battle Of Britain Museum at Hawkinge, Presents Mitch Peeke with the salvaged armour plate. (Photo: Mitch Peeke.)

The first thing that struck me when Dave handed the plate to me, was the sheer weight of it. The plate measures a mere 17 by 19 inches. It is a quarter of an inch thick, but it weighs an incredible 22.6 pounds: 10 kg. No wonder Dave told me not to come to collect it on my Harley! I used my wife’s SUV instead.

Once I got it safely home, I photographed it from several angles and set about the task of trying to positively identify it. To that end, I emailed the Museum of aviation at Robins Air Force Base in America, as they are currently in the process of restoring a B17 to its former glory. Their Curator, a former US Air Force officer by the name of Arthur Sullivan, replied to my enquiry with 24 hours, expressing a great interest in the the plate and the story behind it. Despite casting their expert eyes over the photos I sent them, we are still not 100% certain; but it would seem likely, given its curved edges and obvious mounting bolts underneath, that it is seat base armour from either of the Pilot’s seats; the two angled slots most likely to have been for the lap straps to pass through.

Underside of the plate, showing the mounting bolts and possible Lap Strap slots. (Photo: Mitch Peeke.)

The plate was salvaged from the wreck site, a muddy, watery crater some 500 yards off the beach at Allhallows, in the late 1970’s. By then, some nefarious low tide salvage attempts had already been made, most notably by slightly drunk members of the Allhallows Yacht Club. One such foray had resulted in the Police being called to the club when the returning “Trophy Hunters” had brought a quantity of .50 caliber machine gun bullets back with them and decided to try “firing” them from a vice on a workbench, using a hammer and the pointed end of a six inch nail. Luckily for those concerned, the bullets had deteriorated to such an extent after laying on the muddy bottom of the Thames Estuary for 32 years, that they merely fizzled and smoked. The Police confiscated them. The Trophy Hunters had also retrieved one of the bombers Browning machine guns, probably one of the waist guns, but that had been hidden from the Police. That gun was apparently later taken apart and smuggled into Canada. To discourage any further foolhardy amateur salvage operations, the Royal Engineers were called in to demolish the wreck with explosives. Nobody seemed to consider the possibility of that wreck being a War Grave. The body of Staff Sergeant Cecil Tognazzini, the bomber’s Flight Engineer/Top Turret Gunner, has never been found. He is the only member of 44-6133’s crew who is still unaccounted for.

Today, the crater is still visible at low tide, as are the fragmented remains of the B17. The tidal mud holds a lot of the wreckage in suspension, so every now and again, more of it becomes visible, sticking up out of the muddy floor of the crater, when the tide goes out. Tempting though it still is for some to venture out there, the oozing mud makes such an expedition a dangerously foolish pursuit. Letting that sleeping B17 rest in peace is a far more noble and worthy aim.

In the meantime, we do now have two tangible pieces of 44-6133; one is the small piece of wreckage that washed ashore in 2017 and the other is the newly re-discovered armour plate. Both are now on display in the Slough Fort Museum. Thanks to Jeanne Cronis-Campbell, we also now have photographs of some of 44-6133’s young crew, taken by her late Father, Teddy; who was the plane’s Bombardier and the sole survivor of 6133’s crew, which I added to the memorial last year. And of course, we finally have that permanent memorial to those men, overlooking the place where they fell. We will, remember them.

My thanks to Mitch for the update.

The full story of 44-6133 can be found in ‘A Long way from Home‘,

Brigadier General Frederick W. Castle – Heartbreak on Christmas Eve, 1944

On the morning of December 24th, 1944, Brigadier General  Frederick W. Castle (s/n 0-319375), woke to the greet the day, and like most pilots facing perilous missions, he probably wondered if it would be his last. However, knowing what I know about Castle from my research, he was a calm, confident and highly competent pilot, so most likely he had every reason to believe in the success of his next mission. Sadly though, that was not to be the case. Castle never made it back that night. On Christmas Eve of 1944, this brave pilot lost his 30th and final battle.

Lieutenant Colonel Elliott Vandevanter of the 385th Bomb Group with Colonel Frederick W Castle (centre) of the 487th Bomb Group and Brigadier General Curtis A LeMay. *¹

Frederick W. Castle was born on October 14th, 1908 at Fort McKinley in Manila, the Philippines. He came from an active military family and was the son of Col. Benjamin Frederick Castle. Following the end of World War 1, he was to settle in the United States in Mountain Lakes, New Jersey.

From a young age, Castle was destined to follow in his fathers footsteps, groomed for a life of military service. He attended Boonton High School and Storm King Military Academy before moving on to the US Military Academy from where he graduated in June 1930.

His first service was with the New Jersey National Guard, where he stayed for two years  transferring to the Air Corps, March Field, California, then onto Kelly Field in Texas. Castle gaining his wings in October 1931.

Serving as a pilot with the 17th Pursuit Squadron for 3 years, he eventually left the forces returning to civilian life but holding a reserve status. With the entry of the United States into the Second World War, Castle would be called upon by his good Friend Ira Eaker, returning to the fold in January 1942, and being promoted within two months to Major. By the following September, Castle had been promoted yet again, he was now a Lieutenant Colonel.

With the forming of the Eighth Air Force in England, headed by General Ira Eaker, Castle was one of seven high-ranking officers selected to fly with him on the dangerous route over the Bay of Biscay, eventually arriving at Hendon wearing their civilian clothes. Joining Eaker on February 20th 1943 in the DC-3 from Lisbon were: Lt Colonel Frank Armstrong Jnr, Major Peter Beasley, Captain Beirne Lay Jnr, Lt. Harris Hull and Lt. William Cowart Jnr.

Castle desired a combat role, and this desire would lead to him taking over the command of the ailing 94th Bomb Group. His methods of command were initially considered weak, but in the face of low morale and apprehension, he personally took the 94th to some of the furthest targets yet, his first being Oschersleben in the heart of Germany; a mission that went on to inspire the film “12 o’clock High“.  Castle went on to fly in many combat missions including numerous high prestige targets, a role that took him on to Brigadier General and command of 4th Combat Wing.

On Christmas Eve 1944, following a week of poor weather, orders came though for a maximum effort mission, involving every available B-17 and B-24 in support of the troops in the Ardennes. Airfields, supply lines and troop movements were to be attacked, and following weeks of poor weather, a break was at last predicted.

General Arnold with Colonel Frederick W Castle, Brigadier General Curtis LeMay, General Williams and General Anderson during a visit to Bury St Edmunds (Rougham)*²

As a joint effort, this would be the largest single attack to date involving 500 RAF and Ninth Air force bombers, 800 fighters and just short of 2,050 Eighth Air Force bombers. Such was the demand for aircraft, that even ‘war weary’ examples, were hastily armed and prepared, many unfit for more than assembly or training duties. Truly an armada of incredible proportions.

Taking lead position, Frederick Castle, was in B-17G-VE, ’44-8444′ “Treble Four“, an aircraft that had itself seen battle experience. Assigned to the 836BS, 487BG, and at RAF Lavenham, it was previously damaged in a raid over Darmstadt. The aircraft was  later salvaged in January 1945.

A veteran of 29 missions, Castle was a more than a competent leader. They set off, the weather was as predicted but with a haze that restricted ground level visibility. It was this haze prevented the fighters from leaving causing an all important delay in the escorts. This delay was not considered a major problem at the time however, as the escorts being faster, would soon catchup and overtake the heavily laden bombers. The Luftwaffe, in an unprecedented move, brought forward fighters into the Liege area to meet the oncoming bombers before any escorts could reach them. In the first few minutes of the battle, four of the 487th BG’s aircraft were downed and a further five forced to land in Belgium.

Castle’s lead plane, suffering problems with one of its engines (possibly due to previous battle damage) was attacked by the first wave of fighters, action was taken to leave the flight and join a formation further back. It was then attacked again, the aircraft catching fire, and the navigator being wounded.

Castle took control, and even though still being attacked, refused to jettison the bombs for fear of killing civilians or allied troops below. Further attacks led to both engines on the starboard wing catching fire, which ultimately led to the fuel tank exploding sending the aircraft into an uncontrollable spin.

Through Castle’s actions, seven of the crewmen were able to leave the aircraft, sadly  though not all survived.

Frederick Castle died in the crash, his body is now buried in Henri-Chapelle American Cemetery, Liege, Belgium, Plot D, Row 13, Grave 53.

His citation reads:

“He was air commander and leader of more than 2,000 heavy bombers in a strike against German airfields on 24 December 1944. En route to the target, the failure of 1 engine forced him to relinquish his place at the head of the formation. In order not to endanger friendly troops on the ground below, he refused to jettison his bombs to gain speed maneuverability. His lagging, unescorted aircraft became the target of numerous enemy fighters which ripped the left wing with cannon shells. set the oxygen system afire, and wounded 2 members of the crew. Repeated attacks started fires in 2 engines, leaving the Flying Fortress in imminent danger of exploding. Realizing the hopelessness of the situation, the bail-out order was given. Without regard for his personal safety he gallantly remained alone at the controls to afford all other crew-members an opportunity to escape. Still another attack exploded gasoline tanks in the right wing, and the bomber plunged earthward. carrying Gen. Castle to his death. His intrepidity and willing sacrifice of his life to save members of the crew were in keeping with the highest traditions of the military service*³.”

For his action, Frederick W. Castle was awarded the Medal of Honour posthumously. In 1946, the Castle Air Force Base, in the heart of California’s San Joaquin Valley, was dedicated in his name, and on June 20th, 1981, the Castle Air Museum was officially opened on the now closed base, for the purpose of preserving the Air Force and Castle heritage. Museum details can be found on their website. His  name is also on a plaque in the Memorial Park, in Mountain Lakes, New Jersey.

The awarding of the Medal of Honour, reflected the determination and personality of one of Eakers “Original Seven”, who chose to leave a safe position for a combat role, taking on the demoralised 94th, and leading them into some of the Second World War’s most ferocious air battles.

Sources and further reading.

*¹ Photo from Roger Freeman Collection, IWM, FRE9833

*² Photo from Roger Freeman Collection, IWM, FRE9879

*³ Congregational Medal of Honour Society, Website, accessed 22/12/15

Mountain Lakes Library, Website, accessed 22/12/15

“The B-17 Flying Fortress Story”, Roger A Freeman, Arms and Armour, 1997.

Air Forces Historical Support, Division,  Website, accessed 22/12/15

“The Mighty Eighth”, Roger Freeman, Arms and Armour, 1986.