Huntingdon smiles; “So can we blame you if we do?”
Esmonde interrupts him, “Well perhaps, but that isn’t what’s concerning me right now, what’s concerning me right now is the emptiness of my glass and the fact that it’s your round…”
They laugh and for a moment the war seems very distant.
*
The next day is Sunday, 15th September 1940. As usual the pilots of 506 Squadron are ready before dawn, but the long waiting silence of sunrise passes into morning. By eleven o’clock the breeze is bringing the scent of honeysuckle and roses across the airfield to mingle with the smell of oil, rubber and petrol that seeps from their aircraft. They lie down on the grass beneath the wings to escape the hot sunshine. Some sleep, their heads on parachute packs, as Squadron Leader Huntingdon paces up and down looking irritably at the sky.
The day is so still, so quiet and perfect that Leighton even allows the hope that peace might have been declared into his mind for a moment. But then the dispersal telephone rings, the howl of the siren dispels the beauty of the late summer day and they are running towards their aircraft as engines roar into life and turning propellers scythe the air.
Leighton’s Spitfire leaps forward, faster and faster across the bumpy grass until suddenly everything becomes smooth and it lifts into the air. As he adjusts his flying helmet the headphones crackle; “Badger to Red Leader, scramble, ninety plus bandits, angels fifteen, vector two-one-zero, buster.” This gibberish is code for ‘Ground Control to Red Section, there are 90 enemy aircraft at fifteen thousand feet, steer a course of two hundred and ten degrees to intercept them’.
The squadron is circling the airfield as the last few aircraft become airborne, then quickly they form into sections and climb into the cloudless sky. Far below, the English countryside stretches lazily into the distance, green and enticing. They level out at twenty thousand feet. Leighton’s call sign is Red Two once more; he looks over at Red Three, the Spitfire of Pilot Officer Soames. His oxygen mask is moving on his face – he is probably singing again – sometimes he forgets and leaves his radio on ‘send’ so the rest of the squadron have to listen to cracked renditions of ‘Night and Day’ or ‘Danny Boy’ over the voices of the controllers.
They fly straight and level for a tense fifteen minutes, then Huntingdon’s voice crackles in his headphones;
“Bandits dead ahead! Line astern everyone and watch out for fighters.”
The enemy aircraft are about two thousand feet below. For once, 506 Squadron have the advantage of height. There are more than a hundred of them, Heinkel 111s and Dornier 17s, wave upon wave. They are moving away from them, it is a perfect attacking position.
“Echelon starboard” came Huntingdon’s voice, “Going down – Now!”
One after another they peel off in a power dive. Leighton picks out a Heinkel 111 and switches his gun button from ‘Safe’ to ‘Fire’. At 300 yards, he has him in his sights; at 200 he opens up in a three-second burst and sees tracer slamming into the fuselage and tail and then he is pulling out so hard that he can feel his eyes pressing into the bottom of their sockets and his vision is greying at the edges until he comes round in a fast climbing turn to port. He looks over his left shoulder, to his annoyance the aircraft he had targeted is apparently unharmed, another Spitfire is attacking it and Leighton opens the throttle and climbs to get above and behind the enemy formation again.
He selects a new target, another Heinkel 111. This time he waits until he is a scant 150 yards away before he opens fire. He has barely let go a two-second burst when it explodes. He pulls the stick back and hard to the left to try and avoid the fireball. As he flies through it, the Spitfire shakes in the turbulence and he can hear thuds and bangs as pieces of the German aircraft ricochet off the underside of his own. He levels out, throttles back and looks at his instruments. Gingerly he rocks the aircraft to right and left looking at the wings and what he can see of the tail in the rear view mirror for signs of damage. His heart leaps into his throat as he sees another aircraft right on his tail but it is Spitfire. He hears the excited voice of Soames.
“Is that you Leighton? You alright?”
“Hullo Soames, I think so – did you see that kill?”
“I think they saw it in Blackpool Leighton, you must have hit his oxygen tanks or his bomb load.”
Though the aircraft seems to be unharmed, they have flown right through the middle of the German formation and are now alone in the sky. They begin a climbing turn to Starboard and see perhaps a dozen black specks several thousand feet above and about 5 miles away. Focusing more intently, Leighton realises that it is a formation of German aircraft travelling in roughly the same direction as the two Spitfires. Eight Heinkel 111s and three Messerschmitt 109s. Without taking his eyes from them he turns to port and begins to climb parallel to the course of the enemy formation urging as much speed as his screaming engine will give him in order to stay in front of them. Soames follows; they are in a bad tactical position, caught below and in front of the enemy. For a precious minute the Germans do not see them, but just as they reach the same altitude at a point roughly two miles to the right of the enemy formation and about a mile in front of it they are spotted. The leading bomber executes a violent turn and begins to dive away followed by the rest of them.
The 109s fan out and angle towards them. The Spitfires turn towards the attack and Leighton begins firing, more to try and throw the Germans off their aim than with any hope of hitting anything. But they peel off unnerved, allowing him to push the aircraft over into a dive to follow the bombers.
Leighton hurtles towards the ground, throttle wide open, engine howling, He looks to right and left but Soames is nowhere to be seen. His speed is touching four hundred knots when suddenly he spots a shadow moving across the ground below. He focuses on it for a second; it is a Heinkel 111 skimming low across the surface of the fields, racing back for France and safety.
It is moving diagonally across Leighton’s line of flight from the right, he flattens out just above the treetops and banks to starboard to ease into a firing position when he realises that he has picked up too much speed in the dive and is going to overshoot unless he slows down. As he cuts back on the throttle and side slips to brake his speed instinctively he looks over a shoulder and sees two ‘109s diving towards him from an angle slightly off to his right. Their intent is obvious enough; they want to kill him before he can kill the bomber.
In an instant his mind becomes strangely detached from the danger and he sees it only as a problem in time and distance. He feels suddenly, inexplicably obstinate and decides to make the most of the one good shot he will get. He fires a long steady burst across the bomber’s line of flight and as it flies through the bullets its port engine begins to burn, its wing drops and it hits the ground, cart wheeling across a field as its fuel explodes.
Leighton banks hard to the left just as the 109s open fire, he sees their shells churn up the earth but like him they have built too much speed up in their dive and they overshoot. As they pull up Leighton slams the throttle through the emergency gate and turns back towards them. He is now behind them but they too must have throttled back because he is overhauling them, they stay close to the ground as slowly he closes the distance.
Fields of wheat and hops, hedgerows and cottages flash beneath his wings. When he is two hundred yards from the nearest Messerschmitt he opens fire, the guns only work for two seconds before they stop firing and he hears the rapid clicking of the hammers in the empty breeches. He has run out of ammunition, but the ‘109 staggers in the sky and drops abruptly towards the ground. The German fighter pulls up just over a village but the edge of one wing catches the steeple of a church and it goes into a flat spin, bounces once in a field and drives a furrow through a hedge, there is a flash of light and the wreckage breaks up in whirlwind of flame and fragments scattering into the sky.
*
He lands and taxis back to dispersal. In the de
briefing tent the chatter of exited voices swells into a hubbub of elation that threatens to burst through the canvas. Only one 506 Squadron aircraft has failed to return and a parachute was seen when it went down. Almost every pilot is claiming at least one kill except Soames who looks dejected as the others laugh at his downcast face.
The Debriefing Officer shakes his head. “Never mind son, you’ll probably get one tomorrow.”
Soames looks up; “Can I claim one frightened?”
“No you bloody well can’t!”
CHAPTER 11: BRITISH POLITICS, FROM THE IMPERIAL DEFENCE CONFERENCE OF 1934 TO THE ABDICATION
From ‘The Imperial Defence Conference of 1934’ by Erwin Steiner, Economic History Chronicle Volume 11 Part 6
Like the British Empire Economic Conference held in Ottawa in 1932, the Imperial Defence Conference of 1934 was born of a crisis. In 1932, the cause was the depth and duration of the recession; in 1934, the collapse of both the Second London Naval Treaty and the Geneva Disarmament Conference had stimulated a sudden and unsettling reappraisal of the Empire’s defensive posture.
Up until this point it had been hoped and believed that a major war had become very unlikely between the developed nations, but the reason for the conference was made abundantly clear as it opened in July against the backdrop of the Austrian Emergency, the confirmation of a new militarist government in Tokyo under Admiral Keisuke Okada and the ominous boasting of Soviet industrialisation at the Communist Party Congress. In January the Foreign Office had received an analysis of the situation in Germany from its Ambassador in Berlin, Sir Neville Henderson.
“Here it may be said that nothing has so enhanced the prestige of Herr Hitler in Germany as the behaviour of the ex-Allies since he took office. All reasonable and cautious opinion in Germany foretold disaster, occupation of the Rhineland, sanctions, perhaps blockade, if Germany reverted to nationalism. The Nazis seized power, and nothing happened. Herr Hitler left the League and still nothing happened. On the contrary, the statesmen of Europe were represented here as having been galvanised into running after Germany. The fear that force may be used against Germany exists, but it is rapidly disappearing, and the man, particularly the young man, in the street thanks Hitler for the removal of a distressing bogey. It is therefore not surprising if the Chancellor pursues methods which hitherto have brought him success.” [57]
While the Dominions had been persuaded in the early 1920s to bear a more equitable share of the cost of Empire defence (particularly naval defence), it is fair to say that between the armistice in 1918 and the end of the Imperial conference of 1934, it is difficult to find evidence that any of them had a real grasp of the economic implications of a new war. This was also true of the United Kingdom itself, but to a lesser extent.
This is hardly surprising as up to this point Imperial conferences, when they considered strategic issues at all, tended to be both optimistic and conciliatory in their outlook. However, in this case Prime Minister Mosley and his Foreign Secretary Clement Attlee (who had replaced Harold Nicholson the previous year) clearly expressed their dismay at the collapse of the disarmament conferences and their fears for the future in no uncertain terms. Henderson’s assessment was circulated among the delegates as well as an appreciation of the continued expansion of the Japanese fleet. The news of the re-commissioning of the Soviet battleship Frunze and the resolutions of the XVIIth Bolshevik Party Congress (adjourned on 16 March 1934) signalled a resurgence of Russian military and industrial strength to the entire world.
Various scenarios including the possibility of an alliance between Soviet Russia and Imperial Japan, as well as one between Soviet Russia and Nazi Germany were analysed. It is interesting, but perhaps not surprising, to note that with the Austrian Emergency underway, analysis of the possibility of an alliance between Nazi Germany and fascist Italy was not pursued. The conclusions drawn by the delegates were unsettling. While the prospect of a war involving the British Empire had drawn much closer, it was woefully unprepared to meet the threat.
From this basis the two main issues in the economic discussions of the conference were addressed. First, was the need of the United Kingdom to guarantee supplies (especially of food) from Empire countries. Discussions had been opened with the Dominions, the colonies and India as to the procedure which the United Kingdom would follow for the purchase of food in the event of a major war. A special warning of direct importance to Australia and New Zealand was that the need to economise on shipping was likely to dictate import from the nearest available sources of supply, even though these might not be the cheapest or might not be Empire countries.
Second, was the stress by the United Kingdom on the need for the Dominions and India to free themselves of dependence on Britain for supplies of arms and munitions by developing their own production. It was made clear by the UK delegation that its own rearmament programme was straining the country’s ability to produce munitions and that it was imperative that the Dominions and India should build up manufacturing infrastructure with a view to promoting a greater self-reliance in armaments for the future, because a major war might mean that supply from Britain would be subject to interruptions. However, the United Kingdom indicated that it was prepared to give aid in the expansion of Dominion and Indian munitions industries by placing orders for some of its own supplies in these countries. At the same time stressing that it could not implement this policy at the expense of the planned development of its own industrial structure.
An especially thorny question was that of aircraft. The Dominions were relying almost wholly on Britain for supplies of aircraft and Australia in particular made the point that long delays in completion of their orders were the norm, because British factories were accepting orders from foreign countries (in some cases for commercial aircraft) rather than filling Australian orders. To accommodate these concerns the conference passed a resolution that:
“To the utmost extent practicable, having regard to the difficulties involved, His Majesty’s Government in the United Kingdom should endeavour to ensure that the requirements of the Dominions and India are given priority over those of foreign countries.”
And also that:
“Such technical and financial assistance as may be necessary and prudent for the British government and British firms to provide to enable the manufacture of British types of aircraft shall be forthcoming.”
The Dominion governments therefore obtained from the Imperial Conference not only a clear-cut guide for the formulation of their own policies but also a commitment from Britain to aid in the manufacture of weapons (particularly air weapons) in the Dominions. This meant that while they would have to rely to an increasing extent on their own sources for the production of munitions, they could count on Britain for financial and technological assistance in facilitating that change.
Nevertheless, of the four Dominions, essentially only Australia, concerned about the danger represented by Japan, reacted as strongly as the British, although the Canadian government under Richard Bennett and then Mackenzie King also took firm steps to increase Canada’s industrial preparedness for war. Financial preparedness was less of a problem for Canada than for the other Dominions.
In New Zealand, decisive action in the pre-war years was directed to welfare provisions, public works and housing, rather than to preparation for war. George Forbes, the Prime Minister at the time of the Imperial Defence Conference, is described as “apathetic and fatalistic”, and his reaction to the conference was attended by very little vision or purpose. His loss of power to Michael Savage in 1935 also did little to improve the situation as Savage’s Labour Party of New Zealand held strongly pacifist views and they too did not take sufficiently seriously the mounting evidence of military preparation by Germany, the USSR and Japan. The net effect was that the British suggestion to prepare for war met with a marked lack of New Zealand Government enthusiasm. The same was true in South Africa, though for different reasons, and that country too was woeful
ly unprepared for war when it came. [58]
From ‘A Concise History of British Politics’ by Tom Shaed, Gloucester University Press, 2007
Mosley’s lack of success in his efforts to reform the House of Lords in 1935 is widely regarded as the point at which his luck began to turn. Later in the year, the coming of the Abyssinian crisis and his apparent ambivalence toward the Italian invasion further damaged his credibility. These events seemed to confirm that the engine of his success was running out of steam.
Another issue on which Mosley seemed unable to form a coherent policy was that of the rising power of Nazi Germany. While he had sponsored re-armament, he believed that conflict with Germany could be averted. Effectively, he saw Hitler as a problem which could be managed, but his conviction was undermined by the failure of the negotiations for an Anglo-German Naval agreement. The French perception of the Mosley government was severely tarnished by the collapse of the Geneva disarmament conference and had been cool ever since. [59]
Although these setbacks were serious, the Labour government entered 1936 confident in its popularity. The economy was buoyant, unemployment was down and the prospects of winning a second term seemed good. The Conservatives had a new leader, Neville Chamberlain, and had recovered from their defeat four years previously. The Liberals too had a new leader, Sir Archibald Sinclair and had re-absorbed David Lloyd-George’s Liberal Independents, though reunion with the Liberal Nationals was still elusive.
The reoccupation of the Rhineland by German forces in March was greeted by the international community with a strange mixture of astonishment and dithering. The French reaction, or lack of one, meant the other powers also failed to act against Hitler. The French Cabinet shrank from a military response and instead opted to oppose the German move politically through the medium of the League of Nations. Their attitude eventually persuaded Mussolini to align Italy with Germany. Il Duce was one of the few who realised that the reoccupation was a bluff, but if the other powers could not, or would not, oppose Hitler; then Italy was better off on his side.
The Peace of Amiens Page 11