by Greg Baughen
The final mission was flown by Battles of No. 226 Squadron. This was the only squadron to use dive-bombing rather than the low-level approach, and four planes attacked enemy columns around the city of Luxembourg. One of the planes was seen crashing in flames but there was no indication of what happened to the second plane that failed to return.10 No. 88 Squadron was on standby all day, but was not called upon, and was the only Battle squadron not used. Apart from the four dive-bombing sorties flown by No. 226 Squadron, all the Battles had attacked from altitudes between 50 and 200 feet. Despite the confidence in the low-level approach expressed by No. 218 Squadron, the Battle in its existing state was clearly too vulnerable. It could not even cope with small arms fire. Yet dive-bombing from a higher altitude had hardly proven any safer. There was no obvious tactical solution to the Battle’s vulnerability.
In terms of the number of sorties flown, the response on this first day was modest. Barratt had only used one fifth of the force available to him over a six-hour period and only a handful of bombers had been used against each target. The Luftwaffe had far more aircraft at its disposal but it also made far more intensive use of them—some Stuka crews flew up to seven sorties on the first day. The 130 Battles managed just thirty-two sorties while the 350 Stukas flew over a thousand.
The same intensity was driving German ground operations. German commanders knew that every minute counted as they tried to push vast quantities of men, armour and equipment through the limited Ardennes road network. There were traffic jams and delays even without any interference from the air. The 6th and 8th Panzer Divisions, tasked with crossing the Meuse at Monthermé, could not even enter Luxembourg until the 1st, 2nd, and 10th Panzer Divisions, heading for Sedan, had been pushed through. There was enormous potential for intensive bombing to add to German difficulties, so it was a great relief to German commanders that the Allied bombing was on such a small scale.
Given the losses suffered, the lack of urgency on the Allied side was perhaps rather fortuitous. The targets on the 10th were well to the south of the main German advance and not particularly important. The Echternach border crossing was used by 10th Panzer, the most southerly of the panzer divisions pushing through the Ardennes, but the panzers then veered well to the north of Luxembourg City. The Battles operating near Luxembourg City had only been attacking the flanking covering forces. If more bombers had been used, they would have been wasting their effort on targets that were not crucial. There was now a chance for Barratt and his commanders to evaluate the lessons of the first day, consider how losses might be reduced and use the remaining Battles where they could do more damage.
The losses had been horrendous. Of the thirty-two Battle sorties flown, fourteen had failed to make it back. Yet it was scarcely a surprise; Portal had predicted this loss rate. Perhaps they were even worse than Barratt was expecting, but nevertheless he too had been fearing heavy losses. There was an air of helplessness among RAF commanders. German fighter and anti-aircraft defences were just too strong; it seemed that there was nothing that could be done about it. There was a tendency to credit the German anti-aircraft defences of the day with almost supernatural powers. The German flak defences were impressive, but they were not an insuperable barrier. Later in the war, when low-level battlefield support was a normal RAF activity, German anti-aircraft defences would be far stronger. The Luftwaffe did not have more fighters than the Allied air forces, they were just willing to commit a higher proportion in the crucial battle zone. The RAF was not entirely at the mercy of events—it had always been within the Air Staff’s power to do something about the problems the bombers would face: the fighters, armour, and self-sealing tanks all existed. RAF commanders might despair, but there was an element of self-fulfilling prophecy about what was happening. It was not a deliberate or conscious policy, but the Air Staff were ensuring that tactical air support would fail. Battle crews were paying a terrible price for Air Staff dogma.
There seemed little that could be done immediately to increase the Battle’s chances of surviving missions. Self-sealing tanks could not be introduced overnight. The additional armour that had been sent to France was presumably still there, but no-one seems to have considered using it or even remembered that it existed. There was no instant way of turning inexperienced crews into hardened combat veterans; the lack of combat experience was arguably a bigger disadvantage than the lack of adequate protection. Aircrews were perhaps a little too conscientious about getting their bombs on target: low-level attack is dangerous enough, without giving the enemy time to react. Later in the war, against much stronger anti-aircraft defences, pilots would learn to deliver their attacks quickly, sacrificing accuracy for the chance to fight another day. Such wisdom only came with experience, but more armour and self-sealing tanks would have at least given more crews the opportunity to gain that experience.
The weapons they carried did not help their cause. The eleven-second delay fuse on the bombs, and the time needed to drop a stick of four, meant that thirty seconds had to separate individual attacks. Even if the first plane achieved surprise, there would always be plenty of time to deal with the second. The idea that planes might get around this by attacking from different angles was not possible because, with the bombs ricocheting off the ground, they had to attack along the direction of the road. Smaller bombs could be dropped from relatively low altitudes without the risk of damaging the plane. Many months before, modifying the Battle to carry 40-lb anti-personnel bombs had been given the highest priority, but it was only two weeks after the offensive was launched that any were used. The greatest frustration of all must have been the single fixed gun for ground strafing; even Camel fighter-bombers in 1918 had two. Fixed guns were a more accurate and safer way of attacking exposed troops and soft-skinned vehicles, and also helped reduce return fire. The disadvantages the Battle squadrons had to operate under were numerous. The beginning of a crucial battle was not the time to be trying to find ways round these problems.
While the Battles focused on targets in southern Luxembourg, the Panzers were heading through central Luxembourg, northern Luxembourg, and southern Belgium to Sedan, Monthermé, and Dinant. On 11 May, the Battles were in action further north, but Guderian’s drive towards Sedan was still not the target. Between 9.30 a.m. and 10.00 a.m., two flights of two Battles from each of Nos. 88 and 218 Squadrons set off to attack columns around Prüm, the region from which Hoth’s Panzer Corps (5th Panzer and Rommel’s 7th Panzer) had started their advance towards Dinant. Prüm was 10 miles inside Germany, and would have been an ideal target in the early hours of the 10th but Rommel’s forces had already gone beyond Chabrehez by the 11th, twenty miles inside Belgium. Once again, targeting Prüm was scarcely in line with the policy of delaying the German advance by blocking the most forward elements. The RAF seemed to be gravitating towards its base instinct of striking as deep as possible in the enemy rear. For the Battle crews, this meant far longer in enemy airspace and, to make matters worse, attacking Prüm from bases around Reims meant flying diagonally across Luftwaffe-infested skies. It required a penetration of over 60 miles, which was close to the limit Ludlow-Hewitt had decided was safe even before any Battles had been lost in combat.
No. 88 Squadron was flying its first mission. To ensure the convoys had no opportunity to disperse, the two flights flew three hundred yards apart so that they could attack simultaneously. Only the plane flown by Plt Off. Riddell would make it back. Riddell reported that his plane had been first hit by ground fire just east of Neufchâteau, still 50 miles short of the target. From that point on, the Battles came under constant fire. The leader of the second section was forced down near Bastogne. The remaining three pushed on together, but two more were shot down near St Vith. By this time, Riddell’s observer was reporting that there was petrol in the cabin of the surviving Battle. He therefore decided to head back and bomb a column of troops they had just seen passing through a gorge near Oudler, 15 miles west of Prüm. It would have made more sense to bomb this target
as soon as it was spotted, or indeed any other enemy troops they had flown over, rather than try and reach a target in Germany. Riddell found the gorge but, frustratingly, by this time, ground fire had damaged his bomb release gear and, despite two attempts, the bombs refused to drop.11
He then headed back to base and nearly made it, but had to put his badly damaged plane down at Vassincourt airfield. He then made his way back to his squadron by car to report on the mission. Of the eight planes sent out, Riddell and his crew were the only ones to return. The flight of four from No. 218 Squadron had disappeared without a trace. Interestingly, Riddell stressed that, although the ground fire was incessant, it was mainly machine gun and even rifle fire, with no heavier calibre anti-aircraft fire. It was the sort of ground fire that a little extra armour and self-sealing tanks could have dealt with; without this protection, even rifle-calibre bullets could bring planes down.12 The choice of target was extremely poor, and expecting Battles to penetrate so far was not reasonable or sensible. Bombing the leading elements of the German advance would have involved less risk and been far more useful.
This was the only mission attempted on the 11th. Another attack was supposed to be launched in the evening but, much to Barratt’s relief, it had to be cancelled because dusk was approaching. There was no shortage of targets but he dared not attack them. He did not feel that he could afford to expend his force before the crucial battle began.13 Guderian’s Panzers had another entire day to reach the French Meuse defences unhindered.
On the 12th, the battle already seemed to be approaching a climax. The Blenheims of No. 2 Group and the few available French bombers had been focusing on the German drive through Maastricht towards Gembloux, which the French still believed was the main German threat. Belgian frontier defences relied on the Albert Canal, a waterway that flowed 60 feet below the surrounding countryside. It was an excellent anti-tank barrier—provided the three bridges over it did not fall intact into German hands. Unfortunately, German airborne troops had captured the Vroenhoven and Veldwezelt bridges before the Belgians could demolish them and two German Panzer divisions were streaming westwards. Ahead of them was the French 1st Army, which was advancing to fill the gap between the British forces on the Dyle and the French on the Meuse.
Destroying the Albert Canal bridges would be a major setback for the advancing German forces, but bridges are notoriously difficult targets. Only a direct hit is likely to cause any damage against even a small bridge, and the bridges over the Albert Canal were very solid structures. The Belgian Air Force tried to destroy them on 11 May with its sole bomber squadron, which was equipped with Fairey Battles. Interestingly, the Belgians were using them as two-seaters. The planes only carried 50-kg bombs, which were unlikely to inflict much damage on a bridge. Six of the nine Battles, along with two of the six escorting Gladiators, were shot down by flak and German fighters and the few bombs that landed anywhere near the bridges did little damage.
Attacking such small targets required precision, which meant either low-level or dive-bombing. The Albert Canal was not supposed to be the AASF’s zone of operations, but destroying the bridges seemed like a job for the Battles. By 12 May, the 3rd and 4th Panzer Divisions were approaching Gembloux, some fifty miles to the west. The bridges were well in the German rear, close to German fighter airfields, and there had been plenty of time to organise strong anti-aircraft defences. The heavy losses that the French, Belgian, and British air forces had already suffered in the area underlined the strength of the German defences. Nevertheless, it seemed worth the risk. Rarely are targets so far in the rear so crucial; there were no obvious alternative ways of getting supplies and reinforcements across the Albert Canal and temporary substitutes would not be easy to organise. However, for a reasonable chance of success, the attack required a reasonable number of bombers carrying bombs larger than the 250-lb weapons the Battle could manage. As it was, a single squadron of Battles was given the task and this would only be assigning three planes to each bridge.
The mission was judged so dangerous that volunteers were called for. All the pilots volunteered, so the crews due to fly the next mission took on the task. Two Blenheim squadrons were supposed to bomb nearby Maastricht at the same time to distract the defences. The official narrative talks of twelve Hurricane squadrons providing cover, but most of these were only operating in the general area—indeed, half of them were operating well to the northwest, with instructions to cover the Belgian forces retreating westwards towards Antwerp. Only No. 1 Squadron seems to have had the specific role of protecting the bombers, and it hoped to achieve this by flying ahead and clearing the area of enemy fighters.14
Fg Off. Garland, Fg Off. McIntosh, and Sgt Marland had the metal Veldwezelt bridge as their target, while Fg Off. Thomas, Plt Off. Davy, and Fg Off. Brereton were to tackle the concrete Vroenhoven bridge. As they prepared to set off, Garland and Thomas were involved in a ‘heated discussion’15 about the best way of attacking the bridges. Garland was adamant that the low-level approach was best, while Thomas insisted dive-bombing was more likely to succeed. Brereton’s Battle had a technical fault, as did a second plane his crew tried, so just Thomas and Davy set off for the Vroenhoven bridge. They seemed to have benefitted from three Hurricanes that had attached themselves to the Battles in the run in, which helped beat off Bf 109s and gave the Battles a chance to begin their dive-bombing runs. The two planes dived from 6,000 feet and released their bombs at 2,000 feet. Both planes were hit by anti-aircraft fire and again, it was damage to the engine that proved to be decisive. Thomas crash-landed near the bridge, while Davy made it as far as friendly territory before his engine gave out. Their bombs appear to have landed close to the bridge, but did not inflict any serious damage.16
Meanwhile Garland’s flight was heading towards the Veldwezelt bridge. McIntosh’s fuel tanks were ablaze before he could drop his bombs, but he did his best to send his bombs in the general direction of the bridge before crash-landing. McIntosh was pulled clear from the blazing wreckage by his crew and had to endure a lecture from his German captors on the futility of attacking a bridge after giving the defenders two days to prepare their defences. Garland and Marland were able to aim their bombs more accurately and caused some damage but both were hit, and all six crewmembers died when the planes crashed within a few miles of the bridge.17 All of them were equally courageous, but fears of devaluing the Victoria Cross by distributing it too liberally meant only Garland and his navigator Sgt Gray were so honoured. There was no alternative posthumous award to give, so the bravery of LAC Reynolds, Sgt Marland, Sgt Footner and LAC Perrin went unrecognised. It was an operation that had all the heroic and hopeless qualities associated with The Charge of the Light Brigade. The known strength of the fighter and anti-aircraft defences made the Albert Canal operation a suicide mission, but so did the lack of adequate armour protection and self-sealing tanks.
The Albert Canal operation was always going to be a risky operation in which heavy losses were almost inevitable, but the losses against less well-defended targets were the real cause for concern. In the middle of a crucial battle, Barratt and his staff found themselves desperately trying to work out a way to use his bombers without incurring unacceptably high losses. Barratt felt the bombers needed to operate from higher altitudes to avoid the worst of the anti-aircraft fire, but Playfair believed that the maximum altitude from which they could expect to hit small targets would still be within the range of light flak.18 There were no easy solutions. Barratt and Playfair followed the various tactics adopted by the Battle squadrons on 12 May particularly closely in the hope that answers would emerge. For the first time, the Battles were targeting Guderian’s crucial drive on Sedan. All the missions were in the Bouillon area, where Guderian’s panzers were now just ten miles from Sedan and the main French defence line. The Semois flowing through the town was the last river barrier before the Meuse.
At dawn, a section of three Battles from No. 103 Squadron bombed a bridge over the Semois, it would
seem from a very low level, and all returned safely. At around 1.00 p.m., three Battles from No. 103 squadron approached the same target at 4,000 feet. Almost inevitably, they ran into German fighters in the shape of twin-engined Bf 110s, but at least the Battles were now fitted with armour that offered some protection to fighter attack. There was no attempt to close formation and slug it out with the enemy; the Battles dived to ground level in an effort to shake off the Messerschmitts, which they succeeded in doing. They then bombed from just 20 feet what looked like a pontoon bridge under construction next to a blown bridge and made their escape.19
At around 03.00 p.m., three Battles from No. 150 Squadron bombed columns between Neufchâteau and Bertrix ten miles east of Bouillon. One of the planes was hit, exploded and crashed in flames, but the remaining two attacked the columns from 100 feet and escaped. Two hours later, three Battles from No. 103 Squadron and another three from No. 218 Squadron set out to attack more targets in the Bouillon region. Those from No. 218 Squadron were flying at 1,000 feet in formation, while the three from No. 103 Squadron flew to the target individually, presumably at low level. The Hurricanes of No. 73 Squadron were supposed to be in the area providing protection, but again, it was only very loose general cover. The bombers never saw the fighters, and the only claim made by the Hurricanes was for a Henschel Hs 126 observation plane.
Two of the three Battles from No. 218 Squadron were lost, at least one of them the victim of anti-aircraft fire. No. 103 Squadron’s individual low-level approach was no more successful, and they also lost two planes. Interestingly, by this time, No. 103 Squadron had decided it was pointless carrying a specialist navigator/bomb aimer for short-range, low-level daylight missions; they were not needed and it just put another life at risk unnecessarily. From now on, the squadron flew its Battles as two-seaters. It was a step that could have been adopted by all Battle squadrons long ago and would have enabled the bombers to carry more protection. The sole survivor from No. 103 Squadron had demonstrated another way of reducing losses. The plane, piloted by Plt Off. Cunningham, had not flown as far as Bouillon. Short of the target, he came across a column of German tanks and, in line with the original plans for using the Battles to block the leading German elements, bombed these. The column was taken by surprise and the Battle escaped.20 Admittedly, Bouillon was only a few miles further east, but attacking the first enemy forces encountered seemed far more useful and far less risky. There was perhaps a danger that pilots using their own initiative might hit friendly forces by mistake, but there were few Allied forces east of the Meuse, and the Battle crews seemed in little doubt that the columns firing at them were German.