LAC Summerson was hospitalised, albeit on the ‘right’ side of the lines now, but in what would shortly become an occupied country. Word came through that the Germans were in Rouen and next morning, with a quick change of bandages, the nursing staff dressed Alan and Bill in rough shirts and carried them outside on stretchers. They were on the move again. After a long wait at the local station, where Red Cross nurses satisfied their now ravenous appetites with ham rolls and coffee, what passed for a ‘hospital train’ drew in and they were loaded inside bare cattle trucks. Crammed to capacity with stretchers, baggage, nurses and wounded French soldiers lying, squatting or sitting in every vacant space, in the glorious sunshine their truck soon became hot and fetid. Even with the truck door open, flies plagued their skin and bandages but they had to just lay there, unable to move their limbs to swat the pests. As the train passed slowly through many stations they glimpsed hordes of people both on the move or in huge crowds just standing around.
It was pitch dark when the train reached Paray-le-Monial. For reasons not explained, doctors on the train decided that Alan and Bill should be taken off at this point while the train continued its journey south. The two men were left on their stretchers side by side on the platform as the train set off again. An ambulance crew came and drove them to another hospital near the town where the medical staff took one look at them and promptly put them on drips and fed them milk – they had had no food since the ham rolls nearly twenty-four hours earlier and were completely exhausted by the rough ride since. The Englishmen found this new hospital, run by Catholic nuns, a haven of peace, compassion and tranquillity, and here their soiled dressings were carefully soaked off and replaced with hardly any pain, with two doctors and three nurses taking two and a half hours to carry out this task on both men.
The haven was short-lived, though. A nearby bombing raid caused pandemonium and after just twelve hours the nuns put Alan and Bill back on to stretchers and packed them off to the station. Apparently it was a civilian hospital and all beds were needed for casualties from the air raid. A proper hospital train awaited them at the station but they were put on board into conditions made chaotic by bomb-blast damage from several near-misses during the air raid. But the up side was that at least they were fed on board, and at one of the stations en route they were given cakes, fruit and wine by a group of well-dressed French women.
In the early hours of 17 June 1940 Alan Summerson and Bill Simpson arrived in the town of Roanne, 40 miles west of Lyon. With the exception of some money and their medical notes, they had lost all their kit and personal possessions on the way, but they were now well inside what would soon become the ‘unoccupied zone’. However, having thought they were also well away from the clutches of the Germans, they got a shock when German soldiers arrived in Roanne and occupied it until the formal signing of the French Armistice a few days later. Alan and Bill were naturally anxious that the French might hand them over to the Germans, who were believed to know that two Englishmen were in the hospital. But the airmen were still in such a bad state of health that the Germans left them alone. Now they would be guests of Vichy France.
During that summer of 1940, the benefits of staying in one hospital and having tender and attentive care steadily improved Alan’s condition. The ‘bullet’ wound, which turned out years later to have been caused by a rivet from the aeroplane being driven into his leg, was almost healed. His hands were beginning to heal and he could now use some fingers on his right hand sufficiently to hold a spoon. Not only could he feed himself but he was able to get up and move around. Generally immobile, Bill Simpson was still dreadfully low, both physically and psychologically, but once Alan was back on his feet, there was no holding him. He scraped together some civilian clothes and after a few weeks went out on the first of many visits into the town of Roanne. He usually walked with his hands held up across his chest, as they were still in bandages and throbbed if he put them down by his side. Nothing deterred him, though, and he opened doors, for example, by gripping the handles with his forearms. With the only two fingers that were strong enough on his right hand, he managed to handle his money, smoke cigarettes and read a book.
It was early in September that Alan Summerson and Bill Simpson were separated into different wards. Alan visited Bill to talk and read to him most days but it was clear that Alan’s thoughts were turning to how he could get back to England. Alan was now taking regular exercise and, being very tall and conspicuously battle-scarred, he soon became well known in the local town. Although German soldiers were around all the time, since he was clearly injured and dressed in rough French clothes, he was never stopped or questioned.
Just before the end of December 1940, after months of discomfort and suffering while undergoing treatment for his injuries, news came via the American Consul in Lyon that a medical board was sitting in Marseille for the purpose of assessing badly wounded British servicemen for repatriation to England. The hospital authorities decided he was fit enough to attend the board and he obtained the necessary papers – not without some difficulty – from the American Consul. On New Year’s Day 1941, escorted by a French policeman, he travelled to Marseille and was passed by the Repatriation Board as permanently unfit to bear arms again and he prepared to leave France. It was not that easy, however. Hospital ships, which had been running between Marseille and England, were now held up permanently in Marseille harbour by the Germans. This problem did not deter Alan and he found what was vaguely stated as ‘other means of getting back to England’.
The US Consulate document used as a passport by Alan Summerson in his escape from France. (Sybil Summerson)
The ‘other means’ turned out to be by train from Marseille, through Spain, then on to Gibraltar where he arrived on 26 February. He had been given a special visa by the US Consul in Marseille which allowed him to travel through Spain. In a letter to his parents dated 6 March 1941, written from King George V hospital in Gibraltar, Alan said:
We arrived here on Saturday after a very interesting ride through Spain and the south of France. We were travelling all the while from 11.50 Monday morning until about 08.00 on Saturday evening with stops at Port Bou, Barcelona, Madrid and Malaga. It’s great to be in a place where you can hear English spoken again and buy English cigarettes. I hope to be back very soon, perhaps within the next few weeks. My hands are not fully useful yet but doctors say all hopes of recovery – for another smack at Jerry – four Messerschmitts [sic] aren’t enough payment for all I’ve been through.
Alan Summerson left Gibraltar by ship on 11 March, arriving in Greenock on 17 March 1941, ten months after being shot down. In September 1941 The London Gazette announced that he was awarded a Mention in Despatches (MID) ‘for distinguished services in France’, and during his time in hospital in France the French authorities had also presented him with a Médaille Militaire, a Croix de Guerre avec Palme and a Médaille des Blessés.
Now promoted to sergeant, Alan Summerson did not, however, get his chance to ‘have another smack at Jerry’ or any other enemy – at least not in this war. Since he was classified as temporarily unfit for flying – and theoretically a non-combatant – he had to devote his energies to regaining his physical fitness. As part of this whole process he required treatment – in the event it was applied on and off over the next two years – at Queen Victoria hospital in East Grinstead in the form of plastic surgery on his burns. After many skin grafts at this wonderful facility, created by the renowned reconstructive surgeon Sir Archibald McIndoe – thus becoming one of his famous ‘guinea pigs’ – Alan did in time regain his fitness to return to flying duties category.
Following a period of leave, then initial surgery and convalescence between March and September 1941, his first new posting came in October 1941 as a signals instructor, teaching cadets of the Exeter University Air Squadron (UAS) the basics of radio as part of their ground tuition syllabus. This lasted until August 1943 when he was posted to a similar job with Southampton UAS. He remained in tha
t post until October 1945, after which he was sent to carry out the same work with St Andrews UAS in Scotland until August 1949. While working at Southampton UAS Alan married Sybil Carter, daughter of Sqn Ldr and Mrs E. Carter of Donington, whom he had first met during 1941 while recuperating from his wounds at home in the same village. Sybil was a boarder at Donington Grammar School and they met at a school garden party to which Alan had been invited. Their wedding took place in Donington in 1944, after which Alan continued at Southampton while Sybil undertook assembly work at the Telecommunications Research Establishment (TRE) in Malvern, where she worked on the production of ASV radar sets until the end of the war.
In September 1949 Alan was promoted to warrant officer and having successfully pressed his superiors for a return to flying duties, he was posted as a wireless operator/signaller to No 88 Squadron, which was at that time based at Kai Tak in Hong Kong. The squadron was commanded by Sqn Ldr James Michael (Mike) Helme AFC (later DFC) and operated the Short Sunderland GR5 flying boat. Airmen fortunate enough to join these flying boat crews had to become adept at seamanship as well, and they are proud to be referred to as members of the RAF’s ‘Kipper Fleet’. Alan made the fifty-hour journey out to Kai Tak as a passenger in Avro York PE104 in six ‘hops’ as far as Tengah, completing the journey, after a few days’ rest, by Dakota KN297 in two more hops from Changi via Saigon.
With the outbreak of war in Korea in June 1950, Alan – almost ten years after his last dose of active service – once again saw operational service during this UN campaign. From August 1950, Sunderland squadrons in the Far East were consolidated into the Far East Flying Boat Wing (FEFBW), comprised of Nos 88, 205 and 209 Squadrons, and as a result No 88 was moved back to Seletar, which had all the base facilities necessary to support the forthcoming Korea-oriented flying boat operations. The FEFBW was tasked to detach one Sunderland squadron on a roughly one-month rotation basis to Iwakuni air base in Japan, from where it flew operational patrols for the UN. Duties included assisting the enforcement of a maritime blockade of the Korean coast; carrying out weather reconnaissance; protecting the UN convoy routes between Japan and Korea; and general transport. At any one time there could be up to five Sunderlands on detachment, during which time the RAF flying boats came under the operational control of the US Navy’s Fleet Air Wing 6, acting on behalf of the UN. With the exception of these Sunderlands of the FEFBW, no other purely RAF units made operational flights over Korea – although the army’s Auster Air Observation unit’s contribution should not be overlooked. It should also be pointed out that US Navy aircraft were heavily committed, contributing about four times the number of RAF sorties in the above roles and had two full squadrons of seaplanes and land planes based at Iwakuni.
Cartoon of a Christmas Eve 1949 Air-Sea Rescue operation in Hainan, China, involving Mosquitoes and Spitfires of No 81 Squadron and Alan Summerson’s crew in Sunderland SZ577 ‘A’. (Sybil Summerson)
Sunderland SZ577 ‘A’ of No 88 Squadron Kai Tak, in which Alan flew between October 1949 and May 1950, as well as on detachment to the RNZAF in the South Pacific in April and May 1950. (Sybil Summerson)
Crewed with Flt Lts Hunter (captain) and Sims in Sunderland PP114 ‘B’, on 9 July 1950 Alan left Kai Tak bound for Iwakuni, a former wartime seaplane base near Hiroshima, in Japan. For a few days they made several short familiarisation hops to and from Sasebo (near Nagasaki), Kure and Iwakuni to get the feel of the area, before the first of this new phase of operational flying began. Crews were usually briefed twenty-four hours before each sortie by US Navy Operations staff at Iwakuni base, allowing the flying boat crews time to bring their aircraft to readiness. The aircraft would be fully armed with ammunition for its ten machine guns (two. 303in fixed each side of the forward fuselage, controlled by the pilot; two in the front turret; four in the rear; one. 50in in each of two fuselage beam hatches) and would carry 250lb depth charges on the bomb racks. A crew could expect to fly an op every three or four days so with preparation, briefing, flying and debriefing, there was not a great deal of time for sightseeing on days off. Entering the patrol area, all guns would be manned and tested and the bomb racks run out. In the main the RAF Sunderlands were employed on ops known as air surveillance patrols (ASP) which usually followed one of two profiles: (a) ASP Tsushima Strait; or (b) Area Fox ‘x’ patrols. The roughly 400-mile Tsushima Strait links the Yellow Sea with the Sea of Japan, separating the Korean peninsula from the Japanese islands of Honshu and Kyushu. Except for regular position reports in Morse code to Iwakuni, ASPs were flown in radio silence. Having detected a ship, either by ASV radar or visually, it would be approached at about 100ft altitude, then circled while crew members took photographs with an F–24 hand-held camera, making detailed notes about its identity, construction features, cargo state and course. At the end of the patrol the aircraft would close on UN Task Force–77 (TF–77) and report shipping and weather data by VHF in a preset format, before running in the bomb racks, closing up all hatches and returning to base.
Sorties along the various predetermined Area Fox sectors took the flying boats all over the Yellow Sea and some of the tracks led well up towards Chinese territorial limits off Qingdao, the Shantung peninsula and towards Port Arthur. These predetermined patterns – usually designated by a letter, e.g. Fox Able, Baker (or, later, by colour: Fox Red, Blue and so on) – could go as close as 15 or 20 nautical miles to the Chinese mainland. ASPs were generally flown at heights of around 1,500ft – optimising ASV radar cover up to 35 miles range – decreasing to as low as a couple of hundred feet when closing Chinese territory in order to minimise exposure to ‘enemy’ radar and thus avoid possible interception by an unfriendly MiG–15! No RAF Sunderlands were engaged by Communist fighters, but for the Americans it was a different tale.
Another type of operation undertaken was that of night-time weather reconnaissance, mainly, judging by the entries in Alan’s logbook, gathering ‘met’ data on the east side of Korea, which took some aircraft to within 50 miles of Vladivostok, but occasionally along the west side of Korea, over the Sea of Japan. Patrols were made both by day and night, with durations varying between eight and twelve hours or more, influenced by detours made to investigate shipping ‘targets’ and the weather conditions encountered. The roomy, on-board galley was a boon on these long-duration flights. During the intense cold of the winter, flying in the unheated Sunderland was extremely uncomfortable and hot food and drink, prepared by ‘off-watch’ crew members, became indispensable. The only problem was that the cold could be so bad that hot food and drink was best consumed in the galley out of the cooking utensils because it was liable to go stone cold if it was carried through the aircraft. In addition to his radio duties, Alan frequently manned the centimetric Mk 6C ASV search radar, which was considered very effective (some said it could detect a floating sardine tin at 10 miles) and played a key role in the detection of surface vessels during these Korean patrols. When within 50–70 miles’ range of a coastline this radar also became a useful navigation aid in poor weather or to assist the navigator in obtaining a pin-point ‘fix’.
Take-off from Iwakuni on 16 July 1950 was at 06.20, with Alan flying in PP114 as WOp/AG and ASV radar operator, under the command of Flt Lt Hunter. This first patrol, a daylight reconnaissance in area Fox Able, lasted twelve hours thirty minutes, but was uneventful and the flying boat landed at Okinawa. A short ten-minute hop to White Beach, Okinawa, for refuelling allowed them to make the four-hour trip back to Iwakuni a couple of days later. On 27 July Alan’s crew was rotated back to Kai Tak to be replaced by a different aircraft, but just half an hour into the flight, the radio packed up and they had to turn back to Iwakuni. Since these Sunderland crews were each made up of, and ran like, a close-knit independent ‘family’ of highly qualified tradesmen and technicians, they were able to carry out most of the routine maintenance and repair tasks. Based on experience, too, each boat carried a wide range of spares for just such occasions. This problem was sorted out and the next da
y they took off again, completing the twelve-hour flight non-stop, but this time with some VIPs aboard: the AOC Far East and AOC Hong Kong, no less! The remainder of August at Kai Tak was spent in practising photo recco, air gunnery and bombing in Kowloon Bay, mixed with general flying and air testing in the local area. On the 8th, however, Alan was in PP114 on a photo recco of some Chinese gun positions near Lemas, on the frontier with China, when the peace of the day was shattered by ugly black splodges of AA bursts. Alan noted in his logbook: ‘… fired on by the Reds, AA quite accurate.’ Fortunately no damage was done.
A week later Alan was back at Iwakuni and his second and third ops, as WOp/AG, came on 10 and 16 September. They were both twelve-hour night reconnaissance flights over the Yellow Sea in Sunderland ML745 ‘B’ – which was now the crew’s regular aircraft – with Flt Lt Hunter in command. Both were equally uneventful, although on one of the days in between, three aircraft had to fly to Okinawa to dodge a typhoon. On the flight back to Iwakuni, Alan noted that ML745 ‘B’ flew in formation with Sunderlands ‘A’ and ‘C’. On reaching Iwakuni they did the second op, then on 18 September all three aircraft returned to Kai Tak. A week’s rest then back they went to Iwakuni for a slightly longer spell of ops this time. On the 27th the crew of ML745 did an uneventful twelve-hour patrol over the Yellow Sea, then with Alan manning the radar set on the 29th they did a six-hour patrol searching for shipping from Pusan north to the 38th parallel and back. By the end of September Alan had accumulated fifty-five Korean operational hours by day and night.
They Spread Their Wings Page 21