Bomber Command

by Martin Bowman

  The Squadron Commander then said it was to be a precision attack on three main target areas. The first and second waves would attack on Path Finder TIs but 5 Group squadrons were to bomb last in the third wave and would use the new time and distance bombing method as the target would probably be obscured by smoke from the first and second wave attacks.31 The objective for the third wave aircraft was the Experimental Works, which consisted of over 70 small buildings. This complex contained vital development data and equipment and the accommodation block, which housed General Dornberger the V-2 Project Director and his Deputy, Wernher von Braun. We did not learn this until much later. The crews were then informed that a Master Bomber, Group Captain John Searby commanding 83 Path Finder Squadron would control all phases of the raid by circling the target area and if necessary give instructions over the VHF radio to the Path Finders should the TIs need re-positioning or to stop main force creep-back developing. As we listened to the briefing it became clear that this operation was a formidable task but we were determined to succeed as none of us fancied our chances of survival if we had to return again the next night.32

  Squadron Leader Alfred Sydney ‘Ray’ Raphael DFC, a 27-year-old Londoner who was ‘holding the fort’ as 467 Squadron Commander after the loss of Wing Commander Gomm only two nights before, had a premonition that he would not return. During the briefing he became extremely agitated about fighter concentrations along the chosen route and found it impossible to hide his discomfort. Intelligence Officer Marie Cooper recalled that: ‘He emerged from briefing with his usual calm gone, muttering “Too many fighters on that route!” When the rest came out they all looked a bit ruffled and one chap said; “He got more than a bit worked up about the fighters.” ’33

  At Wyton John Searby saw his crews away and then he and his crew went out to W-William standing waiting on the far side of ‘B’ Flight dispersal area. ‘It was a fine evening, warm and pleasant, the sun about to set,’ recalled Searby ‘and the long twilight beginning a time for the river pub down at the ‘Ferry’ where 83 Squadron foregathered.’ Searby supposed that ‘there would never again be gatherings quite like that and to recapture the atmosphere was impossible. All was warmth and friendliness with much laughter . . .’ W-William was ready. They were ready. Their part was to control the bombing over the full 45 minutes of the Bomber Command attack and ‘stay with it’. At the prearranged hour Frank Forster pressed the starter buttons and the four Merlins came to life. ‘We would set out five minutes ahead of the others in order to have time to make a run across the targets and verify the landmarks we had noted the day previously.’

  At Gransden Lodge Tony Weber took off as the sun was setting:

  We had not been given time for the usual pre-op test flight. We were glad for the twilight take-off. With our full all-up weight and as there was no wind that night we would need every inch of the runway. I do believe that it was only due to the curvature of the earth that D-Donald got off the ground at all. As usual there was to be total radio silence and we were mustered for take-off by means of lights.

  On 106 Squadron at Syerston as senior crew, Pilot Officer Robbie Robertson’s special task was, after dropping bombs from low level, to fly over the target several times, taking a film by a camera fastened beneath their Lancaster. But their sortie did not go according to plan, as Geoffrey Willatt recalls:

  As we taxied out to the end of the runway and started to surge forward, the green light signal turned to red, prompted by a bystander bravely rushing into our path and waving his arms, because one of our engines was pouring out oil and about to catch fire. That night there was no replacement aircraft available, so we didn’t take part in a trip, which caused many losses to aircraft and crew in our squadron but was a raid of vital importance at that time in the war. By this time our crew and indeed everyone, was getting nervous and edgy with mental strain and the fatigue of doing many dangerous raids in quick succession and the constant thought that probably the next trip would be our last. I am sure this feeling is also felt by soldiers and sailors but our strange life was very disturbing, because we were, for several hours, in extreme danger, followed by several hours in perfect safety and comfort, or even at home. However, here we were and it had to be done.

  Charles Cawthorne recalls:

  At 21.30 hours our Aussie Skipper turned our heavily laden Lanc onto the main runway and once the aircraft was lined up he slowly opened the throttles while I watched the needles swing round in the boost and rev gauges. At the same time my left hand followed the Skipper’s right as he pushed forward the throttle levers. As the aircraft gained speed the navigator called out the indicated air speed (IAS) over the intercom. With full rudder control and all four engines pulling, the Skipper called for me to take over the throttle levers and push them through the gate for maximum power. Moments later with gauges showing 3,000 rpm with +14lb/square inch boost, the aircraft reached a speed of 100 knots IAS and took off into a cloudless summer evening sky. With a positive rate of climb established the Skipper called for the undercarriage to be raised and engines set to a climbing power of 2,850 rpm with +9lb/square inch boost. This was quickly followed by a series of flap adjustments and once the airframe was clean our Lancaster PO-F Freddie climbed away at 155 knots to join the third wave of the bomber stream off the north Lincolnshire coast. To see scores of heavy bombers assembling in bright moonlight over the North Sea was quite an exhilarating experience. Usually we carried out ops on dark moon-less nights and the only indication other aircraft were around was when we ran through prop wash turbulence or occasionally we saw the red glow from aircraft engine exhausts.

  At 23.35 hours we crossed the Danish coast twelve miles north of the island of Sylt and from our operational height of 18,000 feet I could clearly see small villages and farm houses in the brightly lit countryside. Forty minutes later we were flying over the Baltic and the moonlight presented an eerie picture as numerous islands were clearly outlined against the sea. At this juncture we were flying southeast at 8,000 feet some twenty miles off shore, midway between Rostock and Stettin. In the nose of the aircraft our Aussie bomb aimer, Swill Campbell, was busy map reading and called over the intercom that we were approaching the headland of Arkona on the northeastern tip of the island of Riigen. We were now only 40 miles from the target and the Skipper turned south to follow the coastline that led directly to Peenemünde.

  Flight Lieutenant Tony Weber continues:

  We crossed the Dutch coast at Alkmaar at 15,000 feet still on full climb power. How I missed our own LQ-X, which would have been at 17,000 feet by now with the power setting reduced to fast cruise, 2,400 rpm at 4lbs boost. As it was we were still at 2,600 rpm at 6lbs boost, giving a rich mixture and a high rate of fuel consumption. All went well, there was no cloud cover and the moon was full. We set the Sky Marker just north of Osnabrück. This type of marker floated in the air on a parachute for several minutes and was set in place to serve as a route marker for the main force. This was necessary to avoid stragglers and to try to saturate the defences. A few minutes later, when we were between Bremen and Hannover, Clair Nutting our rear gunner (Arse-end Charlie) called the warning ‘Fighter! Fighter!’ Thanks to the ground crew having removed the Perspex from this aircraft, Clair had spotted the fighter while he was still homing in on us. I throttled back, set the revs to the maximum 3,000 rpm and lowered 10° of flap. This rapidly reduced our speed and gave better manoeuvrability. Clair gave a non-stop commentary on the position of the fighter, which was soon picked up as a Messerschmitt. Cradock took up the commentary before our assailant, who was attempting to fly about 200 feet directly below us, was lost to view by the rear gunner. Cradock reported, ‘Enemy firing!’ but Nutting corrected this to be only ‘Back firing!’ which meant that the enemy fighter had seen us and slammed his throttles closed in an attempt to match our speed. In so doing he had caused a weak mixture backfiring. As yet we had given no indication that we had seen the fighter which was rapidly closing in to firing position. We had
no guns to bring to bear; now was the time for stick full forward. At negative gravity the motors cut out, the exhaust flames extinguished and we all fervently prayed that Jerry would use all his skills to avoid us as we came straight down onto him. We do not know by how much we missed him but we never saw him again. He no doubt had a tale to tell when he got back to the mess.

  Ian Hewitt, our navigator (who was with Don Bennett on the ill-fated raid on the Tirpitz in Norway in April 1942, when they were shot down and escaped on foot through the freezing snow via Sweden) was rather upset at the disturbance as the tools of his trade were scattered all over the place. On getting his act together again he informed us that we were running three minutes late. Due to the poor performance of the aircraft we had used up precious spare time and would have to cut corners and head straight for the target. By then we were close to Stendal. We only hoped that this diversion would not reveal the true target but if we were to get there on time, which was the name of the game, we had no alternative. Oh, how I missed our old Lanc! The main force was to open the attack on each marked position with concrete piercing bombs, followed by antipersonnel bombs. The route chosen was to make it look as if Berlin would again be the target for the night. We were to fly straight for Berlin, where Mosquitoes would go in ahead and drop target indicators. On reaching the outskirts of the city we were to turn north and head for Peenemünde. It was hoped that this would get the German fighters off the ground too soon, in defence of the wrong target. Fortunately for us this ruse worked, as some of us were to spend more than 20 minutes over the real target area, which had to be moved three times during the raid. Now we were on our own again and ran the risk of being singled out for special treatment.

  In the moonlight John Searby could see the whitewashed cottages on the southern tip of Langeland. The exhaust stubs of the Merlins glowed red and his crew felt ‘pretty well naked’. Many eyes were watching them and he realised that his aircraft must stick out like a sore thumb since they were ahead of the main body by several minutes. On approach to the research station, Scrivener, John Searby’s navigator informed his Skipper to prepare for a course change:

  Five minutes to Rügen Island when we alter course to one-seven-oh degrees. To my disappointment I observed a sheet of cloud ahead but on closer inspection it proved to be higher than at first estimated and I could fly beneath it easily, keeping the island in sight. Shortly after this we were over the tip of Usedom on which, Peenemünde was located. In the bright moonlight we flew close to the objective and Ross, Forster, Scrivener and I took a close look at that which so far we had only seen as a model. It was all there – the airfield at the tip and the development station spreading along the coast on the east side. We ran directly down the line of the buildings and checked off one by one the important features. Hundreds of smoke canisters were commencing to belch out fumes and the wind from off the sea is carrying the smoke across the target area. That could be serious. In succession we passed over the three aiming points: the development factory, the rocket assembly plant and the large living site where the German workers and technical staffs were housed. ‘Light flak opening up Skipper,’ from Ross my bomb aimer. The green and red shells shot past the aircraft and we turned out to sea where in the moonlight I observed two ships anchored. As we neared them they opened up with both light and heavy flak but the shooting was poor and the aircraft was in no danger at present. We pulled away to the north and stood off a short distance from the coast. Within two minutes to go before ‘H’ hour, when the heavy bombing would commence, we waited for the preliminary marking of the target to begin.

  Tony Weber arrived over the target on time and he heard Toffee One calling up and telling them to make their first run in:

  How relieved I was to hear Group Captain Searby the Master Bomber call up. In the event of Toffee One not turning up, I was third in line, with the call sign Candy. (I cannot remember who Toffee Two was). There was no enemy action to be seen. They had not defended the place as it would have given away its real importance. A smoke screen was soon set off but as we were to use the lighthouse to the northwest of the target as the aiming point with the bomb sight set to give a known overshoot, it did not bother us. We were to use this as a datum point for a bombing run at a precise heading and speed, with a false height set on the bomb sight. This would result in an anticipated overshoot, hopefully placing the markers on the target. It was our duty to mark the three aiming points at set times but because Peenemünde from the air was just another airfield, this was not to be an ordinary marking exercise. We flew over the lighthouse on a reciprocal course and then made a hairclip turn back over the lighthouse to drop the first marker. For the first time we were using the much improved marker bomb known as the ‘Red Spot Fire’, which burst at 3,000 feet and burnt on the ground as a vivid crimson fire for about ten minutes. Its appearance was easy to recognise and difficult to simulate. It cascaded to the ground in an unmistakable manner and became known as the Christmas Tree Marker. The procedure was repeated three times at different settings, all of which proved most accurate.

  John Searby continues:

  Suddenly, the area was lit up by brilliant light from the flares as the first wave of Pathfinders passed over and red target indicators dropped in dazzling cascade to the ground. Ross had his eyes glued to the aiming point and startled us all with a shout that their first markers had fallen to the south by more than a mile but in the same instant another clutch of red markers fell almost an equal distance to the north and a yellow marker, most important of all, fell between the two, virtually on the mark . . . backed up at once by the green target indicators. Immediately, I broadcast to the bombers approaching the target and instructed them to bomb the green markers which we judged to be accurate. We made another turn out to sea and the flak ships had another go at us but it was not their night and we passed round in a circle for another run across the aiming point.

  By now the area was beginning to assume the familiar spectacle of a target under massive attack: bursting bombs, masses of billowing smoke through which the sliding beams of the searchlights crossed and re-crossed. The red bursts from heavy anti-aircraft mingled with it all and yet we could not say that the defences were anything but light in character. This happy situation continued for 20 minutes until the second aiming point, the actual rocket factory, was under heavy bombardment. Because the target area was rapidly becoming a veritable inferno in which it became increasingly difficult to identify the various features, we flew lower on our next orbit and to my horror the gunners informed me that they had seen large 4,000lb bombs falling past our aircraft. This was most alarming but was to be expected since many bombers were flying well above the height at which we were orbiting. Curiously enough, this simple fact had quite escaped notice when considering how best to do our job and yet it was the most obvious one. The possibility of our being walloped by a passing ‘blockbuster’ was more frightening than anything the enemy could do.

  Sergeant Ron James continues:

  It was water nearly all the way: across the North Sea, then south of Esbjerg in Denmark and along the shores of the Baltic. Surprisingly even flying in perfect conditions some of our crews managed to stray over the defended areas of Lübeck and Rostock and were given a hot reception at both places. We arrived early at Rügen Island north of Usedom, a designated turning point for the run-in to the target and although PFF had not yet put down their markers, it was rapidly approaching H-Hour. Bill decided to press on, expecting the markers to be released before we came into bombing range. What happened was that we overshot Peenemünde and the TIs went down behind us. Apart from circling to get back into the ‘stream’, a dangerous manoeuvre in this situation, it also meant that we would be late in arriving. Bill informed us that he was going back on a reciprocal course and would fly below the incoming bombers to avoid a head on collision. Down we went to about 2,500 feet and back into the fray. That run-in was perilous in the extreme. There was a mass of machines concentrated above over a very sma
ll target and despite the bombs whistling down – a situation which we were quickly coming to terms with – the explosions from the ground tossed us around like a cork. Meanwhile, the Germans had found a few score guns to supplement those twelve we had been led to expect. They didn’t have to aim; just hosepipe straight up. One Halifax, which must have overshot too, was keeping us company barely thirty yards away. He received a direct hit and dived into the ground; but our luck held and we came through without a scratch.

  Flight Lieutenant Tony Weber again:

  Bombing on the marker by the main force was more accurate than usual, no doubt due to the absence of heavy flak. The second and third marker runs went as planned and we had not as yet been molested by fighters. It was another very long trip as we were routed out of the target north around Denmark and back over the North Sea in an attempt to avoid the night fighters. However, this ruse did not work. By the time the raid was over the fighters had refuelled and gave chase. I wonder how many of our gunners were asleep when they were attacked on the return journey. Many of them had not slept for over two days.

  Sergeant Ron James adds: