by John Moffat
Badly damaged and out of control though she was, the carrier did not sink and her engines continued to produce power. The fires raged, but finally the rudders were repaired and she could steer again. She headed for repairs to the nearest port, which was the shipyard at Valletta in Malta. Her Swordfish aircraft and the Fulmars that were in the air had also flown there to land, and some of the Fulmars had refuelled and re-armed at Hal Far, the airbase in Malta, then flown back to take on the Stukas, managing to shoot down four of them. Illustrious, however, was not able to go back into action so quickly. In the dock at Malta, they set about recovering the burned bodies of the dead, as well as making the repairs that would enable her to escape to Alexandria, then on to a shipyard in New York for major reconstruction.
Next day both the Luftwaffe and the Italian air force targeted her again while she was in the dock at Valletta, with hits causing further damage to the ship, as well as to the dockside, and bringing death to civilians in the narrow workers' streets of Senglea. The raids continued, but so too did the work on the engines and rudder, and two weeks later Illustrious made a nighttime dash to Alexandria, the Suez Canal and freedom.
Like most other aircrew in the Ark, I thought first of those Fleet Air Arm men we knew who had been killed in such a short but brutal attack, but we all knew that this was a serious defeat, particularly after the triumph of Taranto. We wanted to do something that would show that we were still in the game and were not going to be intimidated by the arrival of the Germans in the Mediterranean. Our chance came quite soon.
9
Dambusters
Illustrious had gone for repairs to the US and Eagle was still out of action in Alexandria. In a dramatic reversal of fortune since its success at Taranto, the Royal Navy in the eastern Mediterranean now had no air cover at all. Before the Italians decided that it was safe to move the remainder of their fleet back to Taranto, Force H was ordered to make its presence felt and remind the Italians that there was still a threat from the west. Ever since Ark Royal had moved into the Med, plans had been worked up to attack Italian naval bases near Genoa, the main port on the Ligurian coast. They had never been put into action, because it was feared that the Ark would come dangerously close to the Italian mainland and be overwhelmed by the Italian air force. Now, because it was believed that the loss of Illustrious might give Italian civilian morale too big a boost, those fears were ignored and the Ark was going to attempt a large-scale attack on some big targets in Italy.
We were all for it. It felt that at last we were doing something, taking the fight to the enemy and showing the navy that we in the Fleet Air Arm could do our bit. Unfortunately, I was personally to be disappointed.
The idea was to mount a multi-pronged attack. The Swordfish would attack the ports of La Spezia and Leghorn, while Renown, along with Sheffield and the battleship Malaya, would bombard Genoa. As a diversion, some Swordfish would make a highly unconventional but inspired attempt to breech a dam in Sardinia by launching torpedoes at it. It was a bit of a gamble, because Force H would have to loiter in waters that would be under constant surveillance from a long stretch of the Italian coastline. The Swordfish would also need to go in under cover of darkness, because the latest intelligence about the German aircraft that had hit Illustrious was that perhaps sixty had been based at Elmas aerodrome near Cagliari, just 60 miles from the Tirso dam, their target.
It was not the first time that aircraft from the Ark had attacked targets on land. In October and November the previous year bombing raids had been carried out on the same aerodrome that it was now believed housed the Luftwaffe. These raids were intended to do two things. It was hoped that they might confuse the Italians about the true purpose of the Ark and her escort putting to sea, acting as a diversion from the main mission of escorting a convoy through the Mediterranean; and they were also intended to deny the Italians the use of the aerodrome for the period when Force H was passing close to Sardinia, making the Italian air force use bases further away. This would restrict the time they could spend attempting to evade the defending Fulmars and Skuas, and so frustrate their bombing attacks on the convoy or on us, the defenders. The raid in November was typical. Nine Swordfish were armed with 250lb bombs, some with a delayed-action fuse and incendiaries. Their target was the hangars and other buildings at Elmas, while another group would attack the seaplanes that were normally moored at the jetty. Other targets were local factories and an adjacent power station, which provided power not only to the aerodrome and seaplane base, but to the local town as well. When the Swordfish left there were fires burning, and reconnaissance photos subsequently showed damage to the hangars as well as the factories.
This attack, like two others before it, had been led by Commander 'Johnnie' Johnstone, the CO of 810 Squadron, and his observer, Lieutenant 'Shaggy' Shaw, who had flown in as pathfinders to illuminate the target with flares. They were recommended for an award, as were Godfrey-Faussett and his observer. These two were amongst the best pilots in the Ark. Johnstone had led the unsuccessful attack on the French battlecruiser Strasbourg, while Godfrey-Faussett had torpedoed the beached Dunkerque after Mers-el-Kébir. Given the youth and fairly short life of the average Fleet Air Arm pilot, these chaps were now experienced veterans. Moreover, because the attack was scheduled to take place before first light, the pilots had to have had some experience of night flying, which again limited the choices.
The operation that was now being planned was a much greater task, with several strategic targets being struck in the same day. The initial briefings took place a few days before, and it was clear that we were going to be handicapped by a lack of intelligence. We did not have the resources to carry out aerial reconnaissance of the targets beforehand and the RAF was not able to send regular photo-reconnaissance planes over in the way that they had done for the raid on Taranto. One Spitfire flew over Genoa harbour to check what elements of the Italian fleet were moored there, but there would be no regular updates of information provided by Maryland reconnaissance flights as there had been for the Swordfish on Illustrious. For the most part, information about the disposition of any warships in the harbours was confined to what could be gleaned from radio intercepts, and anything else that the Admiralty in London might be able to provide. They had been able to send us maps and plans of the Tirso dam, which had been built in 1924 as part of Mussolini's big construction projects. These arrived from the UK in a destroyer that was going to be part of Force H when it made the attack.
From these blueprints and maps we were able to build a papier-mâché model of the dam and the surrounding countryside, as if we were building a model-railway layout. This was a regular practice in the Ark, where at the beginning of the campaign, around the time of the attack on Oran, models of various harbours and airbases that were potential targets had been put together. Eight crews from 810 Squadron had been selected to mount the attack on the dam, most of them experienced in torpedo attacks, and they spent some time looking at the model, working out the best way to approach their target. It might have been a diversion, but it was an important enough target in its own right. Not only was it a politically prestigious target, being one of Mussolini's projects, but it also apparently accounted for the supply of 40 per cent of Sardinia's electricity. A few lights would go out if we managed to hit it.
I was not picked for this mission, and I was not happy about it. There was a real distinction in the wardroom between the young Reservists like me and the more experienced pilots. I was younger than most of the senior pilots, but I felt that I ought to be given a chance to show what I could do and when I realized that I was expected to sit this one out, I complained. I was far too junior to bring it up directly with my CO, but I made my feelings known to the staff in the squadron office. I was politely told that the operation was considered fairly risky, that the Tirso dam must be attacked by those with the most experience of torpedo attacks and of night flying, and that anyway the CO considered me far too inexperienced. It was hard to argue. Everyone
on the Ark knew that I had made my first deck landing only after I had arrived in Gibraltar barely eight weeks previously. I was defeated, but my complaints didn't fall on entirely deaf ears.
Late on Friday, 31 January, the Ark put to sea, and we steamed at high speed eastwards to Sardinia to a point about halfway up the west coast of the island. The wind was strong, gusting from the west at speeds of up to 37 knots, which meant that the Ark would have to rendezvous with the Swordfish at the same point from which they took off, because they would be beating into a strong headwind on their return and their fuel state would be becoming critical.
There was low cloud and icy rain, and at one point it seemed that the weather would be against the whole operation, but at about 0400 it seemed to improve, or at least it had settled down and was not getting any worse.
The Tirso dam and its surrounding hills were on relatively low ground at about 1,200 feet and so would be below the cloud cover, which was setting a ceiling of about 1,500 feet. In these circumstances whether to proceed or not is a very close call, but the attack seemed possible, so eight Swordfish were brought up and ranged on the flight deck. They were all armed with torpedoes, which had been fitted with contact pistols in the warhead, and they were set to run at a depth of 44 feet at a speed of 44 knots. The wind and sea conditions were still rough, and it was not easy to range the Swordfish on the tossing deck, but by 0558 they had all taken off. They formed up roughly in their sections on their way in to Sardinia, which was about 60 nautical miles away. When they reached the coast it was still dark, with heavy rainfall, and as they had just another 20 miles to run to the target, the leader, Johnnie Johnstone, signalled the others to turn out to sea to wait for light. One aircraft did not see the signal, so continued inland and got lost in the cloud layer at 1,500 feet, which was about 5,000–9,000 feet thick, and he never saw land again until he returned to the Ark. He failed to locate the target, so didn't drop his torpedo.
The others circled for a while, then started to make their approach, crossing the coast at Cape Mannu. The largest and most obvious landmark was the wide lake that had been created when the dam was built, but the structure itself was further south, at the end of a lengthy, meandering flooded river valley.
In order to drop a torpedo at right angles to the dam, it would be necessary to fly down the course of this river valley, with its many sharp turns, until the dam came into view. Intelligence passed on to the Swordfish crews was that the dam was only lightly defended. If only it had been. The first Swordfish to make an attack flew low over the nearby town of Ghilarza, saw the lake and turned south to enter the river valley as it exited the southern point of the lake. The pilot's intention was then to fly at low level along the course of the river to the dam. As he approached, there was a bridge crossing the river at the point where it left the lake and he was faced with a fierce battery of anti-aircraft fire from guns mounted on either side of the bridge; he was forced to turn away. He once more came down to make his attack, but considered the fire so intense that he would never get through, so he jettisoned his torpedo and made for the coast.
The remaining six Swordfish crossed the coast slightly to the north, and two of them, flown by Godfrey-Faussett and Sub-Lieutenant Tony 'Bud' Beale, made an early turn south, short of Ghilarza, so avoiding coming down between the two heavy concentrations of anti-aircraft guns at the bridge. Even so, as they made for the target they were still fired on, and it became apparent that the dam was protected by gun batteries on both banks of the river. Nevertheless, they both managed to drop their torpedoes and make a good getaway, turning sharply to avoid the gunfire, which was now very heavy and closing in on their two aircraft. They stayed low and flat, trying to avoid offering a sharp silhouette to the Italian gunners, but this meant that neither could make any observations on the outcome of their torpedo drops.
A third aircraft, flown by a young sub-lieutenant, Dick Charlier, made an extremely low-level approach all the way from the coast, then followed the river at such a low height that the batteries didn't open fire. Whether this was because they could not locate him or could not depress their guns sufficiently to open fire isn't known, but he dropped his 'kipper', and it was only when he turned to make his getaway that the batteries fired on him. His observer, Sub-Lieutenant Beattie, thought the dam looked intact when they dropped and couldn't see any result from their torpedo.
The last two aircraft to go in were the leader, Johnstone, and his wingman, Pattison. They flew in a line, passing over the small village of Abbasant, and they were located and fired on by the defending guns before they had even managed to start their approach. They saw that there was a break in the cloud over the lake, so Johnstone decided to climb into the cloud for cover and then descend through the gap to make a low and fast approach over the water of the lake. Once he got into the cloud, however, he got lost and could not find the gap where he was going to descend, so at 7,000 feet, still in cloud, he decided to abandon the attack. His wingman lost him, but dived and came out of the cloud too high above the target. He turned right round, dived and came in at 150 feet, nose down, with a speed of 145 knots. The gunfire was getting intolerably close, shrapnel was ripping through the fuselage and he decided to drop his torpedo then and there. He flew right over the dam, his TAG firing his single rear gun at the anti-aircraft batteries, and managed to get away without any major damage to his aircraft.
One Swordfish failed to return, and no one else in the attacking aircraft had seen it after they took off. A few weeks later the Italians announced that the crew, Lieutenant 'Spike' O'Sullivan, Sub-Lieutenant Knight and Petty Officer Eccleshall, had all been captured and were now prisoners-of-war.
None of the attacking aircrew saw any sign of damage to the dam, or saw any significant explosion. It hadn't been breached and remained intact.
Taranto had been planned in the years before the war started, and the man whose idea it had been, Admiral Lyster, was in charge of Illustrious when the plan was finally put into practice. The raid itself had taken place only after the intense study of daily reconnaissance photos; and it had been postponed to a night when there would be a full moon to provide good visibility.
In contrast, our raid on the Tirso dam had been a pretty ad hoc affair. The pilots had been surprised by the heavy antiaircraft defences, and the weather itself had been extremely unfriendly. We had flown in with weapons that had been designed to sink warships, not blow apart concrete walls, using a high level of guesswork about the most appropriate depth at which to hit the dam. Nevertheless, we had managed to drop four torpedoes and had lost only one aircraft. Later on in the war, when I heard about the attack on the three dams in Germany by the RAF, I couldn't help thinking that we had tried it first. That was a remarkable operation, by some very brave airmen, but flying low and steady over water towards the target was something that we knew all about – it was what we had to do to launch torpedoes – and if we had had something similar to the bouncing bomb that they had, we would have blown that dam at Tirso to pieces.
By the time the Swordfish had landed back on the Ark, it was 0900. I had woken up, flown my first reconnaissance patrol of the day and come back for breakfast. Before the lads had returned from the raid, the atmosphere was tense. It was bad form to say anything, of course, but it was impossible not to think about what might be happening to our colleagues 60 miles away over Sardinia, and not to wait, slightly apprehensively, to see when they would return, and how many. As I watched them land on, tired, their faces drawn, I was surprised and relieved that only one Swordfish had failed to come back. I thought, however, that the lost crew was the least experienced and might well have been me. Perhaps Tim Coode had made the right decision.
The raid on the dam completed, the plan was that we would now steam north and make our preparations for the attacks on Genoa and the other ports in northern Italy. We were scheduled for take-off later that evening, but the weather started to get rough, the seas became steeper and the ship was pitching a good deal. Fli
ght operations were reduced to the bare minimum for safety.
Later that afternoon, the captain took the view that, given the rough seas, aircraft could not be flown off in the dark and only nine aircraft could be dealt with safely on the flight deck at any one time. Then we were reduced to a speed of 15 knots, and some of the destroyers escorting us were being damaged in the rough seas. There was also a forecast of low cloud over the targets. Two hours later, the operation was cancelled. It was inevitable, given the conditions, and the wiser, more experienced heads in the wardroom thought it was the right decision.
We made our way back to Gibraltar. On the way we practised torpedo drops, carried out live firing exercises, and I flew one of the squadron's planes back to the landing strip that had been built on the old racecourse at Gibraltar, so I had some time ashore.
There was a bit of an inquest into what our Swordfish crews had experienced when they flew over the Tirso dam. There was some concern over the large discrepancy between the intelligence estimates of the anti-aircraft defences given to the squadrons and the quite formidable reality that had faced the attackers on the day. The captain cleared lower decks a few days later and addressed us, stressing the need for tighter security and greater awareness of the fact that Gibraltar, and La Linea in Spain where we sometimes went for meals, were hotbeds of spies and that we should be extremely careful of what we said. Evidently the senior officers believed that the Italians had got wind of our raid. I thought, however, that if our intelligence had been better we would have known about the increased gun emplacements.