Continuing the story of Jimmy, my next door neighbour, when he served in the RAF from 1940 to '45.
Apologies for the delay chaps , it's been ready for a couple of weeks but I've been waiting for the take-over hoo-ha and cup fever to settle down but as always with us life is never easy so you'd better have it now before, as Jimmy would say, 'the next bal00n goes up!'
In early 1943, now aged 23 and a sergeant air gunner, Jim was posted to a Lancaster squadron based at RAF Little Snoring (yes really) in Norfolk. 'Terrible place, old boy. Bloody Americans everywhere pinching our popsies'. He flew a number of night sorties over the Ruhr and admits to having something of a charmed life: 'Kite got back full of holes nearly every time but somehow the skipper always got us home. Bloody terrifying though!'
Eventually he was selected for Navigator training and following completion of this he was commissioned as a Flight Lieutenant: 'Couldn't have a sergeant telling the skipper we were lost, could they?' .'My mum couldn't believe it when I turned up in a peaked hat and a navigator's wing, took me all round the neighbours to show off'. Following his promotion Jimmy was posted to 158 squadron, which flew Halifax heavy bombers and was based at Lissett in Yorkshire. 'Not many popsies ,old boy but bloody good beer'.
With 158 squadron his favourite daylight trips were those to the industial areas of Northern Italy: 'We formed up over the south coast and on a good day I could see our house near Hove'. Once past Northern France 'It was a piece of cake, over the Alps, no-one shooting at us, it was lovely. And the Italians were awful, had no idea of ack-ack at all, just used to bang away everywhere and hope they'd hit something',but they never did'.
In early August 1943 'we knew a big show was on but didn't have a clue where. All very hush hush. Then, in mid- August we were called to a briefing and told what was going on and where we were going. We were shown maps and photographs of the secret installation developing the V rockets . It was at Peenemunde on the Baltic coast of Northern Germany, a bloody long trip'. To draw the night fighters away from the route of the main force of around 600 'bombers a decoy attack was to take place to the east of their target and Jimmy hoped it would work. 'Get a night fighter in amongst 600 bombers they can't bloody miss'. The whole plan, which would involve further precision-bombing raids, was 'Operation Crossbow' with the first raid being 'Operation Hydra'.
A Group Captain at the briefing told them it would be a nice easy job: 'The place has never been bombed before, chaps', he said, 'they won't be expecting you. Needless to say he wasn't actually going with us and when we got there it was very heavily defended by ack-ack and night fighters'. As luck would have it, because of another shortage of air gunners, Jimmy had reverted to his old role and was in the mid-upper gun turret for this raid. ' We were in the second of three waves .going in low at around 4,000 ft. We'd dropped our load and were climbing but at around 12,00 ft there was a hell of a bang and the kite was on fire and falling. Must have been a night fighter as we were well away from the flak by then. The skipper did all he could but a fire started at the front end and he told us to jump for it. I got down from the turret and tried to see what was happening but she was blazing at both ends. The smoke was very thick and choking and I just couldn't see anyone else or hear anything on the intercom. Unlike the tail gunner I was able to wear my parachute in the turret so I kicked my emergency hatch out and jumped'. I asked him if they'd had any parachute training: 'not a thing, old boy, all they ever said was that if it doesn't work to bring it back the next day'. Fortunately his 'chute opened and he floated down and landed in a field. He looked around but couldn't see any of his six fellow crew members: four Brits, one Canadian and the skipper, a New Zealander who, at 28 was the oldest: a very distressing moment as he realised he was the only one to get out. He then buried his 'chute as they'd been told the Germans valued the silken material very highly then he found a road and started walking. 'Just had to get on with it, old boy, just had to get on with it.' He found however that he couldn't help thinking about the Canadian navigator and how fate had placed him in the turret that night rather than the navigator's seat. 'That poor Canadian chap, he didn't stand a chance'.
He reckoned he must be about 50 miles from Peenemunde, so he walked south for about an hour down the country road and could hear the bombers of the third wave heading for home above him. As dawn broke he heard a vehicle stop behind him followed by a door being opened. He carried on walking but then a harsh voice shouted 'Halt'. ' I was too fagged out to make a dash for it so I was in the bag old boy, in the bloody bag in less than two hours'.
It was actually a policeman that took him prisoner and he was taken to the local nick to await someone from the military to collect him. He had to empty his pockets and they took anything that looked useful : 'Never took much on a raid, just in case something like this happened'. But they kept shouting one question at him and all he could make out was the word 'shoot' and he feared the worst. But eventually Jim realised they were asking him where his parachute was so he shrugged his shoulders and made out he didn't know what they were on about. They locked him in a cell until an army lorry arrived to take him, under guard, to a reception centre where he went through the name, rank, number routine several times. One thing did puzzle them though and several times he was asked 'Why Peenemunde? There's nothing there to bomb!'. Jim acted dumb but, unless it was a trick question to find out how much we knew, it showed how the SS were trying to keep the place secret. More than 40 bombers were brought down in the raid so Jim was not alone here but he couldn't find any of his crew-mates amongst the survivors. Over the next few months he went to three PoW camps before arriving at Stalag Luft 111, which was still recovering from the after effects of 'The Great Escape'.
Sorry chaps, hope you found it of interest but it l00ks like a Part 4 is required if you're still interested.
Oh, you may be interested in knowing that I Googled '158 Squadron' the other night and it seems they have a very active Association made up of the few surviving members of the squadron and their families, plus the families of those now deceased . I rang the secretary and he was delighted to hear that Jim is still going strong though he had no record of him ever being in the Association. They do however have the full squadron personnel records and he was able to tell me who Jimmy flew with that night and even the call-sign of his Halifax. He was also able to tell me that the Canadian navigator also managed to escape the burning bomber and was taken prisoner the next day. My wife and I went round to Jim's the following morning and over a cup of tea told him about the navigator's escape, subsequent capture and that he returned to Canada at the end of hostilities. He was quiet for a few minutes, dabbed his eyes then said, 'Bugger me, that's worth a snifter or two, isn't it?
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Comments
Incredible to think that some of them didn't (couldn't) wear parachutes!
great stuff.
I loved the bit when you told old Jimmy that the tail gunner survived.
I see that Jimmy was only 23 at the time. Just a lad really.
What these young chaps had to go through.
Jimmys quotes and understatement of events make you realise what a wonderful language English is and what a wonderful way that generation spoke it.
Can't wait for part 4
Slightly hi-jacking this thread, but recall someone on here having knowledge of looking into military history. I'm wanting to find out more of my grandads career, but really don't know where to start. The only info I have is his name, army Number, that he was in REME and finally left as WO1. If anyone here can help or at least point me towards finding it, I'll be eternally grateful................
Tango: With very little info. Mrs.M 51 managed to find her grandfather's records of when he served in a Lancashire regiment in WW1 so it is possible. She's out at the moment but I'll ask her about how she did it and if no-one else has come up with anything will let you know. There must be a REME Association that might be able help though.
If you a a direct descendant you can write to the army records office that covers the REME and they will supply a typed out sheet detailing when he joined, what unit, promotions, charge sheet, medical records and performance reports that sort of thing.
The sort of detail it would be unfair to publish publicly whilst so many veterans are still alive.
When they started releasing Great War records online or available at Kew there were still around 100 men active, fit and well and speaking to groups about their service. One I knew was mortified that anyone could gain access to his service record that detailed time out the line for an STD and various acoounts of drunken disorder, as a Great Great Grandfather this was not very dignified.
Anyway good luck, if it turns out he was in North Africa and Italy there are some fascinating REME stories out there and you can share them all with us