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Hitler's Revenge Weapons

Page 12

by Hitler's Revenge Weapons- The Final Blitz of London (retail) (epub)


  From the second day of September an uneasy peace descended over London and it soon became clear that the last doodlebug had been fired from northern France. The euphoria was palpable; offensive operations against known V1 sites in France would all but cease, as would anti-Diver air operations in the south-east approaches. It was even suggested that the Crossbow Committee and the Rocket Consequences Committee could be wound up, but wise voices cautioned that, while known V2 sites in France might also soon be occupied, the rocket’s greater range would bring them within reach of London from west Holland. Incredibly, in that first week of September, press releases prepared by Duncan Sandys and others said, in effect, that the country was no longer threatened by multiple flying bombs, with only a few likely to be air-launched, sporadically, from German bombers over the North Sea, and there was no mention of a longer range version of the V1 or of a rocket threat.

  Churchill and others in the political and military establishment were far less sanguine; to where, they asked, had Flakregiment 155 (W) fled, with most of its equipment and an unknown quantity of ‘ready for use’ V1s? Moreover, they felt sure that a new and terrifying phase of the war was about to begin, one in which there would be no warning of the incoming V2 rockets once they had launched successfully, and against which there would be no credible defence. True, some press releases were more cautionary, thereby confusing the general public, but the sceptics did not have to wait long for proof of their fears when the first V2 landed in Chiswick, West London, on 8 September 1944.

  Strangely, the government thought it might be able to mislead the public into thinking that the sudden explosions occurring in and around Greater London could be attributed to exploding gas mains and, with no evidence of official concern, suggestion of evacuation, activation of the big underground shelters or attempts to deter evacuees from returning to London, some war-weary Londoners chose to believe this unlikely story. Perhaps the British government was hoping that Operation MARKET GARDEN would succeed, thus isolating the rocket units in west Holland and bringing the V2 offensive to an early close? Meanwhile, the German people were applauding the growing success of their new weapons, and it was German propaganda which forced the British government to come clean, disabusing the British public of the ‘gas main’ farce and announcing that a new weapon was now bombarding London. Although in the first two months only 1.6 people were killed and seven injured with each rocket which landed in England, this was small comfort to those directly affected.

  The active defences in the UK, which had had such success against the flying bombs, were now at a loss to know how to deal with the supersonic, stratospheric rocket which could not, realistically, be intercepted in flight. Perhaps in desperation, General Pile suggested an imaginative scheme in which, on receipt of a rocket launch in Holland, his guns on the east coast firing airbursts, with each shell dispensing some 300 bullets into the path of the rocket as it returned to earth. However, the eminent pioneer of radar technology, Sir Robert Watson-Watt, felt that the chances of this bringing a V2 down was about a thousand to one, and nothing came of the idea, although Pile’s independent scientific team had calculated that between 3 and 10 per cent of V2s could be destroyed in flight. The defenders soon concluded that the only means of reducing this new threat was to find and destroy the missiles before launch, together with their tactical support equipment, supply depots, means of transport and the production units. This was clearly a very big and difficult job, and it was one for the Allied offensive air assets, specifically the RAF and USAAF tactical air forces and the fighter-bombers from Fighter Command (See Chapter Eight: Code Name CROSSBOW). The ultimate solution was, of course, for the Allies to occupy all the sites associated with the rockets – but that was going to take time.

  Understandably, given the nature of this unprecedented weapon, the V2 became a hot topic among the potential victims in the East of England, giving rise to many implausible but also perhaps a few true tales. Some claimed to have glimpsed the rocket micro-seconds before impact, they having been alerted to its impending arrival by the strange antics of their pets, while others on ships at sea and on the far-off coast of England, were said to have seen rockets, if only fleetingly, moments after their launch from sites in the west of Holland. More plausible were reports of the strange effects of the blast spreading from the rockets as they exploded on impact, of soot being sucked out of all the chimneys in a street by the vacuum created, patterns made by clouds of dust and glass ’shivering’ like flowing water.

  General Eisenhower now decreed that all Crossbow intelligence was to be passed to his HQ, and approved a change in the air defence command and control arrangements which would take effect during the second week of October. These included the disbandment of ADGB, Air Marshal Sir Roderick Hill reverting to his old role of AOC-in-C Fighter Command with additional responsibilities covering offensive operations against the V2 sites and all means of their support shared with the commander of the RAF’s Second Tactical Air Force (2TAF), Air Marshal Sir Arthur Coningham. Initially, essential co-ordination of these responsibilities, and the task of downing the German Heinkels carrying V1s to England, proved unsatisfactory, so it was decided that Fighter Command would look for and attack any targets which threatened London in the west of the operating area, while 2TAF dealt with such matters farther east into Europe (Chapter Eight). In their air-to-ground operations, both organisations would be heavily committed to armed reconnaissance, or ‘seek and strike’ missions.

  As the winter of 1944 approached an air of gloom persisted over London, and in particular among those in the establishment who were responsible for its defence against the indefensible rockets. The morning of 25 November was particularly bad, with very heavy damage caused by a V2 in Holborn, and another in New Cross. There was a feeling of helplessness everywhere; Bletchley Park was unusually quiet, although a little later it detected signals which outlined the organisation of the rocket forces within the Division zur Vergeltung (AKzV) (Division for Retaliation) with Group North at Kleve, and Group South at Euskirchen, both close to Germany’s western border. Crucially, there was no way of finding the precise locations of their respective firing sites, reports from agents and from other sources arriving too late for offensive action to be taken before the missiles were launched and the units moved on to new sites. So it was that London and its environs continued to be raided night and day. However, the next trend was more favourable, the number of rockets fired per day dropping from eight to four in mid-December, this being attributed to more intensive patrols of the suspect launch areas by Allied fighter-bombers and the fact that the Germans were now having to re-supply and operate their firing units by night only, with all the difficulties that implied.

  The stoic Londoners were listening to advice and doing all they could to protect themselves, many shunning crowded places, hurrying back from the capital to their homes in the outskirts and staying at home in the evenings. Outwardly, they continued to put on a brave face; they were all in it together, rich and poor alike against a common foe, but there was no denying that many of them were now showing signs of war weariness, looking tired, shabby and unkempt. To them, too, it was particularly depressing to know that there was no effective defence against the rockets, as German propaganda claimed that the ‘centre of London was in ruins’, and predicted that ‘in another month there would be nothing left of the capital’.

  The new year brought with it a renewed threat of V1s, those of Wachtel’s units which escaped north into the Netherlands having been ordered to prepare for fresh attacks on London from sites in Holland as soon as possible. So it was that on 3 March 1944 thirteen of Germany’s new lightweight, long-range V1s were launched from there, heading for London, but for reasons unknown only two crossed the coast and only one reached the London area, landing on Bermondsey. At that stage it was not known from where precisely they had been launched, but signals decoded at Bletchley Park in January confirmed reports from agents on the ground in west Holland that sites wer
e being prepared for V1s there, and the first of these were found by RAF reconnaissance aircraft on 7 March, one at Ypenburg airfield, east of The Hague, the second at a soap factory at Vlaardingen, near Rotterdam, triggering immediate attacks against them.

  Many more guns were now being moved to the east coast, from the Isle of Sheppey north to Orford Ness, while AOC-in-C Fighter Command ordered three squadrons of the higher-performance Mustangs to patrol over the sea, forward of the guns, and another three, together with the new Meteor squadrons, to do likewise over the land behind the guns, up to the balloon sector. Two Mosquito and Tempest squadrons provided the night guard. At the same time Fighter Command and 2TAF fighter-bombers continued their ‘seek and destroy’ missions against the elusive rocket sites and their logistic support. Bombing the huge, and sole remaining V1 and V2 production site at Middelwerk was considered again, but rejected on the grounds that even the British 12,000lb Tallboy bomb would neither penetrate the work caverns deep underground nor guarantee that the seismic effects would have the desired results. The USAAF thought of attacking the tunnel entrances, but this would demand very precise bombing and delay production only marginally. In January 1945 there were more demands for a concerted bombing campaign against the missile launch areas around The Hague using heavy bombers, but again these were rejected by the defence chiefs, given the inherent bombing inaccuracies of the heavies and the great risk to Dutch residents. However, in a desperate attempt to reduce the impact which the rockets were having on London, they did agree to precision attacks on carefully chosen targets around The Hague, by the medium bombers of 2TAF, a decision they might come to regret (Chapter Eight).

  The public had the right to be concerned; despite every effort to find and destroy the V2 units and installations on the continent, 228 rockets reached England in January, 233 in February and 227 in March, but at 11.15 on 27 March 1945, the last V2 struck Orpington, Kent, with only one fatal casualty. A day later Britain’s battle with the V1 doodlebugs also came to an end, with the penultimate missile coming down at Sittingbourne, Kent, and the final one brought down by the guns off Orford Ness. The rocket units would fire no more, but the flying bombs would continue to target Antwerp for the next three days. The active air defences of Great Britain, beginning with the comprehensive warning network, the efficient command and control system, fighter aircraft, AA and balloon units, had served their country well against the V1s, while the offensive assets did what they could against both V1 and V2 weapons sites on the continent, and the emergency services, professional and voluntary, excelled in their rescue and recovery work.

  Some of the Air Raid Wardens of Waltham Holy Cross, in December 1941. (Courtesy Janet Grove)

  Edward (Ted) Carter, Chief Warden for Waltham Holy Cross, keeping an eye on an unexploded 1000kg German bomb. (Courtesy Janet Grove)

  All ARP posts were equipped with very basic safety equipment, including these first aid kits. (Courtesy Lowewood Museum)

  On 20 September 1944 Waltham Holy Cross Wardens set up this Incident Post, by the Green Man Public House, Waltham Abbey, to deal with the effects of a V1 which landed close by in Larsen’s Recreation Ground. (Courtesy Janet Grove)

  So it was that, from April 1945, all the offensive and defence air assets, which had worked so hard together to minimise the effects of Hitler’s Vergeltungswaffen, became available to support the invasion forces on the continent, or to deploy to the Far East to take part in operations against Japan. On the home front, the passive defences and, in particular, the ARP were unlikely to be required at their present levels and preparations began at once to stand down most of the wartime volunteers. They and everyone in the peace-loving world celebrated Victory in Europe Day (VE Day) on 8 May, with great gusto while two powerful searchlights, from somewhere north of the author’s home, made a gigantic V in the sky above. Ted Carter and the Waltham Holy Cross ARP paraded for the last time on 13 May 1945, the sirens had stopped their wailing and the nights were now left to the nightingales.

  Strict food rationing continued throughout the war and to a lesser extent until 1954. (Courtesy Lowewood Museum)

  ARP wardens wore their badge with pride. (Courtesy Lowewood Museum)

  At the end of the war His Majesty King George VI, the Queen and the then Princess Elizabeth paid proper tribute to the men and women of Britain’s Civil Defence. (Courtesy Janet Grove)

  Chapter 7

  Too Close for Comfort

  What was life like for those, particularly in Greater London, who lived under a rain of flying bombs and rockets? Starting slowly in June 1944, the V1 offensive continued with increasing ferocity, day and night, until all the launch sites in the Pas de Calais were occupied by the invasion forces in September. There was then a long pause as Colonel Wachtel’s ground-based units moved north to resume the campaign in 1945, with modified, longer-range V1s able to reach England from new sites in northern Holland, the last landing in Britain in March 1945. Meanwhile, the bombardment had continued, albeit sporadically with the V1s launched over the North Sea from Heinkel 111 bombers (Chapter Five).

  The first four V1s hit England in the greying dawn of 13 June 1944, some early risers around Swanscombe, Kent, being the first to hear that soon to be familiar pulsating sound of its engine, as they watched the yellow fire emitting from its jet-pipe die and the bomb dive to the ground, harmlessly in this case, in a field on the A2 Rochester to London road. The time was 04.13. This was followed by a second, which hit Mizbrook’s Farm, Cuckfield, Sussex, at 04.20, badly damaging some greenhouses and killing a few chickens. A third, by far the most serious that morning, struck a railway bridge on Grove Road, Bethnal Green, East London, at 04.25, killing six, injuring thirty and rendering 200 homeless amid extensive damage. A fourth came down at Platt, near Sevenoaks, Kent, at 05.06, without causing any casualties or damage. So ended the first day of a new ‘blitz’ on London.

  In the first three days of the V1 campaign eighteen people were killed, 166 suffered serious injuries and eighty-three were slightly hurt, but much worse was to follow at the weekend. This began with twenty-four deaths in Battersea, on Saturday, 17 June, after which Westminster suffered from three V1 strikes during the morning of 18 June, the first on Hungerford Bridge, and a second on Carey Mansions, Rutherford Street, which killed ten and injured fifty in a fire which raged for seven hours. Then came the third, greater tragedy when, at 11.20, a V1 hit the Guards Chapel, Wellington Barracks on Birdcage Walk, during the Sunday morning service, many notables being among the sixty-three servicemen and fifty-eight civilians killed, together with sixty-eight seriously injured. One worshipper, who suffered life-changing injuries, remembered the sinister sound of a V1 increasing as it approached, almost drowning the band, the renowned choir and collective voices singing the Te Deum, until its engine faltered and stopped almost overhead, leaving an eerie silence before a mighty explosion rendered the beautiful chapel to a hideous heap of rubble. This was the 500th V1 to be launched against London.

  This being on the doorstep of the London establishment and ultimate authority, the flying-bomb threat was brought into even sharper focus; if this was Lord Cherwell’s ‘mouse’, it was a mouse that roared – and the defenders of the homeland knew they must react accordingly. The civilian communities were already getting very worried, some taking shelter in the twenty-two miles of Chislehurst caves, south of London, while many schoolchildren were being kept at home and plans were advanced for another evacuation of London. While the visible effects of the defending AA and fighters was good for morale, the AA was deemed to be a mixed blessing, with many of the V1s they hit failing to explode and simply falling on those below, while at the same time the guns showered the area with unexploded shells and hot, jagged fragments, in a continuing crescendo of noise which caused sleepless nights and considerable irritation. The Government was now all too well aware that it must pay more attention to the morale of the tired inhabitants of London.

  The War Cabinet Civil Defence Committee met on the next day,
Monday 19 June, to be greeted with the news that, so far, 674 flying bombs had crossed the coast into England, of which seventy-six had been brought down by fighters and 101 by AA; 499 Londoners had been killed and 2,105 seriously injured, while the damage to property had been extensive. One of the War Cabinet’s first actions was to resurrect the prematurely disbanded Crossbow Committee, with Churchill himself now at the helm (Chapter Six).

  True, for those directly affected by the new weapons, these were horrific events, many saying later that they were most frightened by the ‘deafening silence’ which accompanied the V1’s sometimes invisible death dive after the engine cut until the inevitable explosion. However, the author remembers that others simply went about their business, taking cover where they could only on hearing that distinctive sound peter out; indeed, after a time, many even failed to look up. Parliament attempted to calm Londoners, claiming that the weapon caused little more damage than the parachute mine used in the 1940 blitz, but it knew that the general public was becoming increasingly unnerved by the raids and that the rescue services were again sorely stretched. It was not only the civilians in the capital who were being affected; many servicemen, of all Allied nations, who were there seeking respite from front-line duties also suffered. Typically, at 08.00 on Monday 3 July (the day before American Independence Day), the US Army Club in Sloan Court was struck by a V1, leaving seventy-four servicemen and three civilians dead and fifty seriously wounded. It was small comfort for those who lived and worked in central London that the missiles lacked the necessary accuracy to home in on their aiming point (Tower Bridge), most being spread widely across Greater London and some falling as far southeast as Beneden, Kent, or well east in Billericay, Essex. By 2 August the V1s had killed 4,000 and left 14,000 injured.

 

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