Flight Lieutenant Gaskin then briefed Corporal Hill on his duties and explained in more detail the Surface to Air Missile system the unit was to evaluate. Hill’s role was to design and set up the recording and data analysis system for the trials and evaluation of the new equipment. It meant that he would have to travel to the factories of each contractor and sub-contractor as well as to the other locations of unit personnel. The officer then sent Hill off to settle into his quarters in the barrack block and report for duty the next morning. After he had gone, Gaskin picked up the ‘phone and asked the telephonist to get him RAF Low Fenton, near Doncaster. When he was put through, Gaskin asked for the JSTU adjutant and let him know of Corporal Hill’s arrival. “Do you know why his disembarkation leave was deferred?” Flight Lieutenant Gaskin asked.
“No, sir,” replied Warrant Officer Miller. “The order seems to have originated from Air Ministry.”
“Okay, Warrant. We’ll try and give him some leave when we have a lull in the programme. Talk to you later.” He then hung up.
When he had finished the telephone call, Flight Lieutenant Gaskin read Corporal Hill’s file again. He was mustered as a clerk statistics but in the Royal Air Force that trade group’s personnel were often used for unusual assignments. Hill was well-educated, having attended a well-known North Country grammar school and then a technical college before being called up for national service. He had failed the officer selection process, lack of leadership qualities being cited but had proved to be highly intelligent, with a first-class memory, observant and incisive in his conclusions. His mathematical abilities were very high. Hill had proved to be a natural at unarmed combat and had taken up martial arts after Basic Training. He was a marksman with rifle and pistol and did mountaineering as a hobby. His security clearance was of a high level and was given well before he joined the trials unit in Australia. Gaskin wondered why he had been posted to the No. 28 Joint Service Trials Unit when he had those other qualifications. He seemed better suited to be in the RAF Regiment. It was 1960 and the height of the Cold War. The role of the Royal Air Force was essentially that of deterrent. If war occurred then it would have failed in its role. Protecting that role was vitally important.
Corporal Andy Hill found that he had been allocated a single room in a new accommodation block. There were a number of these rooms so it was clear that there would be quite a few corporals on the unit. He quickly unpacked and then went for a walk to get to know the base. The buildings were a mixture of old wooden ones from the Second World War and new brick ones, these being the accommodation blocks. The Officers’ Mess, Sergeants’ Mess and Airmen’s Mess were all the old wooden buildings. The base administration block was a new brick building. While these were all behind a security fence, there was a second security fence leading onto the airfield and to the hangars and workshops. The kennels of the guard dogs were also behind this second fence. The base was not far from the sea, one of a number of bases set up along the coastline during the Second World War. RAF West Sanby was home to one of the first SAM squadrons deployed in the RAF. It was about three hundred yards from the perimeter fence to the sea wall that ran along a lot of the Lincolnshire coastline. About twenty miles to the north was the mouth of the River Humber and the port of Grimsby, the home of a large trawler fleet and a haven for trawlers wanting to land their catch or have repairs done to the vessel. North and south of the base was farming land, rich and fertile. On the landward side, one narrow road left the base and went straight west to the village of West Sanby about a mile away. It was the only road to the base. Andy took note of all of this as he walked around.
The location of the airfield control tower gave it uninterrupted views of the airfield and of the domestic site. There were few aircraft movements these days but the tower was very much in use. Movements on the base were monitored from here. A man with binoculars watched with interest the progress of Corporal Andy Hill around the domestic site.
***
The afternoon sun was slipping down toward the English coastline. A heavy swell was running under a sky dotted with cumulus clouds. It promised to be a pleasant night. The skipper of the Russian trawler told the helmsman to set a north-westerly course which would put them in line with the mouth of the Humber.
Captain Petrovsky watched the sun slipping toward the horizon, its rays slanting through clouds and setting up shades of light and shadow. Soon there would be lights twinkling from the shore and a glow in the sky from the Grimsby and Cleethorpes townships. Now in his fifties, Petrovsky remembered spending some shore leave in Grimsby during the war. Those were pleasant memories from when the English were Russia’s allies. Now it was different. He sighed and turned to look at the deck of his ship. Two of the crew were busy hosing down the deck and scrubbing it clean with a broom. Another appeared to be working on the cable drums. It all looked normal for a trawler. The first mate called, “Two aircraft coming in very fast.” Petrovsky was used to this. The RAF kept close tabs on all Russian vessels in or near its waters. Two fighters came in low from the north-west and screamed overhead. The recognition chart pinned up on the wall of the bridge showed them to be Hawker Hunters. The roar of their engines seemed to follow them as they went past low over the vessel and then peeled off and climbed seaward. He watched as they seemed to slowly turn and come round for another pass. No doubt this time the cameras would be rolling if they weren’t before. The noise had faded away but it wouldn’t be long before the roar of their engines would be heard again. The light of the setting sun glinted off the cockpit windows of the aircraft as they turned and then straightened up for a pass from seaward. He could see the air-to-surface missiles slung under their wings and knew they could also carry bombs in place of wing tanks. Petrovsky wondered how the ‘Hunter’ compared to the Mig-17, not that it was likely to be tested around here. The two fighters roared overhead and disappeared into the setting sun. To the east, darkness was rolling across the North Sea and would soon reach them. He told the first mate to ring down for half-speed and the trawler visibly slowed as the order was put into effect. The fighter pilots radioed in their report on the location and direction of the trawler. It was still in international waters but would soon enter the three-mile limit if it kept on its course.
A local fishing boat appeared in the half-light, its riding lights on. It was a small vessel, about eight metres in length and would most likely use drift nets. It was still about a kilometre away and moving slowly. The vessel was old but well maintained. It was of wooden construction and the paintwork was fresh and the vessel was scrubbed clean. Petrovsky told his first mate to call the political officer. Yarov wasn’t much of a seaman but he was a good Party man and was responsible for all the non-fishing activities they might engage in. Yarov appeared on the bridge and Petrovsky nodded toward the incoming fishing boat. It drew closer and appeared to be going to pass astern of them when a light flashed intermittently from its deck. Yarov grunted, unhooked a signal lamp from the bulkhead and went down and out onto the deck. He signalled the fishing boat. It gave a confirming signal. The daylight was all but gone. The fishing boat crossed the stern of the Russian trawler and turned to come alongside on the starboard side. It would be less protected from the rolling swell being to seaward but also could not be observed from shore. Petrovsky signalled the engine room to stop engines as the first mate went down onto the deck with Yarov.
The first mate had the crew members put fenders over. With a heavy swell running, any transfers could be tricky. The skipper of the fishing boat gradually narrowed the distance. Petrovsky ordered slow ahead and turned the trawler into the swell so that it would not roll as much. The fishing boat followed suit and the two vessels gradually came together. Lines were passed and the two vessels were held together. Yarov spoke with the skipper of the other vessel. They exchanged packages. A man emerged from the shadow of the trawler’s superstructure and climbed down onto the fishing vessel’s deck. A man similarly dressed climbed up into the trawler. He and Yarov exchanged c
omments and the man paused on deck. A carton of vodka and another of caviar were passed down to the fishing vessel. In return a carton of Scotch whiskey and a carton of “State Express” cigarettes were passed up. Yarov and the fishing boat skipper waved acknowledgement and the lines were cast off, the two vessels moving apart. Petrovsky ordered an increase in speed and the fishing vessel fell astern. It then headed toward the fishing banks to spend the night fishing before returning to shore. Petrovsky ordered a change of course to head further out to sea in a north-northwesterly direction.
CHAPTER 3
Air Vice-Marshal (AVM) Denby buzzed his secretary. “Jennifer, it’s time to head down to the security meeting on the Red Hawk programme. Check that Group Captain Clarkson is ready to go down with us. Is the meeting room set up ready?”
“Yes, sir,” Miss Jennifer Younger-Haig replied. As they prepared to go downstairs to the conference room, Air Vice-Marshal Denby reflected on who would be present. A representative from MI5 would be there, as well as the unit CO (commanding officer), Squadron Leader Dawson. There would also be the civil servant who headed up the team, transferred to him from the former Ministry of Supply when that section of the department had been transferred to Air Ministry after the RAF took responsibility for its own purchasing. He found the Civil Service ranking system a pain. The man was a Grade 7 with an equivalent rank of group captain. It meant having a RAF officer of equivalent rank on the team to keep the civil servant in his place. The man’s job would be handled competently by a flight lieutenant if he had all service personnel. It was Tuesday, the 20th and a fresh September morning, the sort of weather that was good for running trials.
The conference room had a stale smell of tobacco and other odours, no doubt the result of a late-night conference. The room had been cleaned up and a secretary was busy with a coffee percolator. Two persons were already seated at the table. Squadron Leader Dawson was in his late thirties. He was a brilliant engineer and had been involved in preparing the original specification for the Red Hawk system. He was well suited to managing this sort of programme. Hamilton, the man from MI5, was a lean, sharp-featured individual of about fifty years of age and with twinkling eyes. Denby felt an instant liking for him. Both men rose as he and Group Captain Clarkson entered the room. Hamilton came forward to introduce himself, speaking with a slight Scottish accent as they shook hands. Denby then introduced Group Captain Clarkson and his secretary; he shook hands with Dawson across the table and took a seat opposite the two men. Denby pointed to his secretary to sit at the head of the table where she would be able to see everyone clearly.
“Coffee, sir?” came the request from the assisting secretary and he nodded affirmatively. The secretary put milk and sugar on the table. Pens and pads were already laid out for them to make notes but Miss Younger-Haig would take down the official record.
The four men passed pleasantries as they waited for the civil servant to arrive. He arrived a couple of minutes late, much to Denby’s annoyance. Griffiths was the typical civil servant in his manner and his dress. Dark jacket, pin-striped trousers, bowler hat and briefcase. Denby thought it a wonder that he wasn’t carrying a rolled umbrella as well. His smile never reached his eyes. Denby took an instant dislike to him. Griffiths apologised for being late, took his place at the table and asked the secretary for a cup of tea. He spoke with a slight Welsh accent.
Air Vice-Marshal Denby nodded to his secretary and opened the meeting with, “Well, let’s get down to the matter of concern. The delays on this project appear to be deliberate. That means that someone is orchestrating it. Supposedly top-secret information is already in Moscow,” nodding towards Hamilton. “The leak has to be found and plugged.” They went on to discuss the different aspects of the project, the factories involved and the civilian personnel managing it. There were five parts to the Hawk system and there were four contractors involved. The missile and the control unit were with Argonaut Industries in Manchester; the radar was with Wensley Electronics on Tyneside; the launcher was with Davis Aviation Industries in Luton and the missile-loading tractor (MLT) was with Jennings Engineering of Coventry. Each had been checked and key personnel cleared before the contracts were placed. Air Ministry had to be notified of any changes in key personnel before approval was given for them to work on the project. All of the RAF personnel had been thoroughly checked security-wise and all had good clearance. The same applied to the civil servants involved.
It seemed that the security had been thoroughly checked but there was a leak. Hamilton spoke, “As we know, the information that Moscow has obtained is related to the missile itself. That means that a leak could be in Argonaut Industries but we should check all the links.”
“Could the leak have happened in Australia, sir?” asked Hamilton.
“Definitely not. We have had that covered pretty thoroughly since missile tests started there. Any chance of a leak was definitely locked out.” Denby was tempted to smile at the thought of the report he had received that covered that situation but he kept a straight face. Instead, he said, “As you are aware, we expect to be moving equipment to RAF West Sanby by the end of this month. We don’t want knowledge of this leaking out. It could cause complications. Hamilton, I leave it to you to have all the contractors’ personnel checked out again as well as their security systems. Dawson, you and the group captain and I will fly to West Sanby this afternoon before you return to Low Fenton. Griffiths, if you are free you might like to accompany us.” Griffiths looked a little surprised but recovered quickly and said that he thought it could be arranged. “We’ll meet here at 12.30 hours and go out to Hendon together. Let’s meet to review things in a week’s time.” The meeting then broke up.
They met at 12.30 hours without Hamilton, who was already in transit to Manchester. The staff car took them out to RAF Hendon where a Pembroke aircraft was waiting on the tarmac for them. When they were settled in it, the pilot obtained clearance and took off, heading in a north-easterly direction.
Less than an hour later, the aircraft was circling RAF West Sanby. The air vice-marshal ordered the pilot to circle a couple of times before landing. This gave them a good look at the base and surrounding area. The questionable area was the three hundred yards between the base and the sea wall but there was little they could do about that at this stage. The aircraft landed and the base commanding officer, a wing commander, was there with his car to meet them. Denby disembarked first and was greeted by the commanding officer. Clarkson, Dawson and Griffiths followed. Being a short, working visit there was no ceremony, this being at Denby’s instruction which was radioed in on the way up from Hendon. Griffiths was introduced. Wing Commander Saxelby and Squadron Leader Dawson had already met and knew each other from the planning stages of locating No. 28 JSTU on the base. They climbed into two cars and proceeded to the CO’s office. Once inside, Denby got straight to the point, " I want the security on this base reviewed urgently and any changes required to be implemented before the Red Hawk system arrives.” Saxelby said that he felt sure that it was capable of doing what was required but that they would certainly review it again.
“Let’s go to the control tower and view things from there,” suggested Dawson.
Driving through the security gate onto the airfield they were not stopped, only receiving a smart salute from the duty RAF policeman. Denby made a mental note of it. They drove round to the control tower and entered without being checked. Upstairs in the control room there was an excellent vision of most of the base. The building, being octagonal, had windows on all eight sides, giving 360-degree vision from the building. From its position, Denby could see about ninety percent of the airfield perimeter fence and much of the domestic site fence. The part of the airfield fence that he could not see appeared to be blocked out by the aircraft hangar but covered by the guardhouse at the main gate. The airfield was patrolled at all times by dog handlers and their dogs. At night, the dogs were slipped off their leashes when on patrol. The weak spot was the domestic site. T
he control tower was now used as a combination flight control centre and security post. It was manned twenty-four hours a day. The building was shared with base personnel, missile squadron personnel and the RAF police, who were responsible for security. It was not a usual arrangement but it seemed to work. Denby asked to look at the security log book. There were routine records of observations, often ‘Nothing to Report’, but anything non-routine was recorded. Yesterday there was an entry that a corporal had been seen exploring the perimeter fence of the domestic site and wandering around buildings. A subsequent entry noted that he was a Corporal Hill, new to the base. Denby smiled. He closed the log and looked up. The personnel on duty were standing and looking a little apprehensive. He thought, “And so they should.” He nodded to them and said, “Relax.” There was a visible sense of relief as they went back to their duties. Denby said, “Thank you,” and turned to leave. With a nod to the CO he went down the stairs and left the building. They returned to the cars and drove across to the hangars and workshops. The radar monitors were manned twenty-four hours per day and Denby wanted to see for himself what the security was like there. Access was by a coded panel set next to the room entrance. The door was self-locking and the room occupants could open it from inside without a code. Inside there was quiet concentration by the operators. Denby left them to their work. Outside he suggested they return to the office.
Back in the CO’s office, Denby expressed his concerns at what he observed as weaknesses. “I suggest that you insist that all persons be checked by security when entering the secure area. The corporal on the gate should have asked for our identity — each one of us, whether he recognised us or not. Again, at the control tower, there should be a check on all entering. The fences alongside the domestic site should be monitored for illegal entry. We’ll arrange an increase in establishment to get the extra personnel that you’ll need. Reduced human vigilance is our greatest weakness. I suggest that more spot checks on security may need to be carried out, particularly at night.” They discussed the issues and then Denby asked for his plane to be readied. They then paid a visit to the JSTU office. Flight Lieutenant Gaskin was expecting them. They went into the conference room and Denby asked to be briefed on progress there. Gaskin explained that the new headquarters building was due to be delivered in two weeks’ time. The contractors installing the services would be doing that in a week’s time. No site preparation was necessary for the equipment because it was meant to be a mobile unit capable of setting up virtually anywhere. Denby then asked to have the personnel called in so that he could have a word with them. There were a dozen men, the unit advance party. Denby was introduced to each of them and had encouraging words. When it came to Corporal Hill, he commented on his bronzed appearance with a bit of a grin. Corporal Hill smiled back and said it was a pleasant change to be in cooler climes. Denby said, “Good luck in your preparations,” and nodded his departure. They all came to attention, he saluted and the small party headed out to the car. This time, as the car came to the security gate of the airfield, the corporal on duty saluted smartly and requested to see their identification. Denby smiled his satisfaction. Soon the aircraft was climbing to the north-east over the North Sea and turning onto a reciprocal heading for Hendon. As the plane banked, Denby noticed the small harbour of fishing boats and the small village of Parfleet St Peter.
Red Hawk Rising Page 3