Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 9 – The End of an Era

Part 8 saw Chelveston at the crossroads of history. From the heroism of B-17 crews braving ferocious Luftwaffe attacks to the tense vigilance of Strategic Air Command jets in the early Cold War, the station had witnessed courage, innovation, and loss. Yet as international tensions shifted and technology advanced, even its longest runways and fortified hangars could not guarantee a future.

By the late 1950s, Chelveston faced an uncertain fate. What would become of a place that had once been alive with the roar of engines and the courage of men? Its final chapter was about to be written – but the outcome was far from certain.

During the late 1950s and early 60s, the world’s political landscape was shifting constantly and rapidly. France’s president, Charles de Gaulle, saw his country as a strong, independent nuclear power, wanting full control over its own defence. That vision did not accommodate large numbers of foreign – particularly American – forces on French soil. As a result, 1959 saw the start of a reduction in military numbers with strict limits being placed on the number of American forces allowed in France. Any personnel or equipment beyond this ceiling were required to leave immediately. This decision triggered a massive redeployment of forces, with many units being reassigned to Germany or Belgium, and others returning to the United Kingdom where they were accommodated at the so-called ‘Red Richard bases, of which Chelveston was one.*20

Over the next several years, France saw a steady reduction in American personnel and units, a process that would culminate in 1966 with President Charles de Gaulle’s announcement of France’s withdrawal from NATO’s integrated military command. The decision required the removal of all foreign forces from French soil by April 1967, bringing an end to more than a decade of a large-scale American presence.

To accommodate the early relocations from the continent, a number of Britain’s newly modernised airfields were selected – Chelveston among them. Alongside RAF Alconbury and RAF Bruntingthorpe, each station received elements of the 10th Tactical Reconnaissance Wing (TRW), the 42nd Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron, of the 10th TRW, arriving at Chelveston in August 1959. Operating the twin-engined Douglas RB-66C Destroyer – electronic reconnaissance aircraft, eighteen of these machines, together with their crews and ground personnel, quickly took up residence. Shortly after their arrival, the aircraft were modified with updated electronic counter-measures equipment, reflecting the increasingly technical nature of Cold War aerial reconnaissance.

Douglas RB-66B Destroyer (U.S. Air Force photo)

The squadron remained at Chelveston for almost three years. Then, in the summer of 1962, both the 42nd Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron and the 19th Tactical Reconnaissance Squadron departed their respective Midlands stations for deployment to Toul-Rosières Air Base in eastern France. The move placed the wing’s reconnaissance assets closer to the Central European front line at a time when aerial reconnaissance was increasing. For Chelveston, however, it marked the effective end of its active flying role. With the Americans steadily reducing their UK footprint and Bruntingthorpe facing closure, the departure of the RB-66s signalled the beginning of the station’s final chapter.

Project Clearwater and the End of the Reflex Era

So, once again, Chelveston was left devoid of all main front line squadrons. Facing a reduction in demand for Cold War bases –  combined with both long expensive runways and a shift towards a more logistical, support and storage use – Chelveston’s runway was closed to all but infrequent, small aircraft – examples that could operate on shorter runways.

Before long, the airfield being used less and less, Chelveston closed to flying altogether, and it quickly reverted back to a reserve airfield status.

This shift in wider policy soon became formalised. On 26th July 1963, the United States Department of Defence announced ‘Project Clearwater’, the final phase in the reduction of American forces stationed on British soil.*21 Although Chelveston had already fallen largely silent, the base remained nominally under United States control while residual activities continued. That position ended on 19th June 1964, when Chelveston – together with RAF Fairford, RAF Greenham Common and RAF Sculthorpe was formally closed and handed back to the Royal Air Force.

By 1st April 1965, Project Clearwater had effectively brought an end to Strategic Air Command’s Reflex bomber deployments in Britain, terminating large-scale rotational operations and leading to the inactivation of the 7th Air Division*22 Chelveston, retained by the RAF on a care-and-maintenance basis for a further period, would briefly assume a less glamorous role as a storage location for American equipment being withdrawn from the continent. The age of regular transatlantic bomber and reconnaissance operations from Northamptonshire had quietly drawn to a close.

From Runways to Renewables: The Final Transformation of Chelveston

With no flying units now operating from Chelveston, the runways and associated tracks began to deteriorate and break up. With the increasing demand for housing and the nearby new town of Milton Keynes expanding, hardcore was needed and Chelveston had a good supply just waiting to be quarried. The runways and perimeter tracks were all removed thus ending any chance of a reprieve for flying in the future. But it wasn’t to be the end of its military association just yet.

In 1977, Chelveston became home to a key part of the Royal Air Force’s Strike Command Integrated Communications System (STCICS). The site, equipped with a large array of antennas, formed an essential link in the RAF’s network, transmitting voice, data, and weather information to aircraft, and connecting military stations across the UK and beyond. For decades, it played a vital role in maintaining operational communications for Strike Command.

As technology and operational requirements evolved however, the Ministry of Defence upgraded the system, leading to the creation of the Defence High Frequency Communications Service (DHFCS). This new network integrated both air and naval communications into a single nationwide system, capable of maintaining secure links over long distances, and routing messages through a central control centre. By December 2003, with the network increasingly managed by civilian contractors,  Chelveston was vacated once more, thus marking the end of its role in the UK’s high-frequency military communications infrastructure.*23 *24

With their departure, the site became surplus to military requirements, and it was sold off in 2005, as a going concern. New businesses seeing it as a development opportunity, bought it up turning it into a diverse renewable energy park that is known today as Chelveston Renewable Energy Ltd.

A number of wind turbines have since been erected, all linked by  the remaining remnants of the perimeter track.  A solar farm has also been added, and the site has evolved into a major energy supplier utilising renewable energy sources.

Today, the former Chelveston airfield  continues in this state, and little evidence exists of its previous life; the runways, perimeter tracks and buildings all having been removed. Dotted about, within the confines of the private area, a small number of  temporary buildings are known to remain (as surveyed by Northamptonshire Archaeology in conjunction with West Northamptonshire Council) including one of the nuclear bomb stores, – the ‘igloo’. Because, of its excellent condition and rarity value, the structure has been put forward for long-term protection through the Scheduling process of West Northampton Council.  The store is considered to be ‘well-preserved and a relatively unaltered example of a distinctive 1950s USAF munitions storage area’ which ‘comprises characteristic storage bunkers or “Igloos” inspection buildings, and perimeter fencing.’ *25

Although largely privately owned, there is a footpath across the site running perpendicular to the post war runway. In addition, the Cold War accommodation blocks are still present adjacent to the site, and a small section is used by the Northamptonshire Fire and Rescue Service as a training centre, training fire-fighters.

On the ground little remains to be seen, and access to that is restricted. The concrete foundations used by the post war communications centre are visible, but otherwise, Chelveston, and its history, are merely records longing to be opened and read.

During its short wartime life, Chelveston witnessed many acts of great heroism. It bore heavy losses, saw significant developments in aerial warfare, and its crews endured sustained enemy attacks. Those who served here are now honoured by a memorial in the nearby village, a quiet reminder of the station’s wartime sacrifice. Yet the story of Chelveston did not end in 1945; for many years after the war, the airfield continued to play a major role in Europe’s front-line operations, a legacy that is not suitably acknowledged.

Now a thriving energy park its future has been sealed, The military have departed and private enterprise has taken over what little remains of its once glorious but reserved history.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Sources and Further Reading (RAF Chelveston)

*1 Chelveston renewable Energy Park website. Accessed 24 June 2025

*2 Chelveston Parish / Local history website. Accessed 24 June 2025

*3 Commonwealth War Graves Commission website. Accessed 5 July 2025

*4 The Airborne Assault Paradata website. Accessed 16 July 2025

*5 Air Force Historical research Agency Website. Accessed 18 August 2025

*6, *7 Vlahos, M. C., and Kehler, B., Leading the Way to Victory: A History of the 60th Troop Carrier Group 1940–1945. Woodbridge, CT: Knox Press, 2023.

*8 Wilhelm, D., ‘The flight of the bomber Phyllis’, Liberty, 5 December 1942, Imperial War Museums, document 50898.

*9 Missing Air Crew Report (MACR) 15501.

*10 Hamilton, J., The Writing 69th. Green Harbour Publications, 1999.

*11 Coffey, T. M., Decision Over Schweinfurt. Magnum Books, 1978.

*12 Freeman, R. A., Mighty Eighth War Diary. Jane’s Publishing Co., 1981.

*13 Bowman, M., The Bedford Triangle. Pen & Sword, 1989.

*14 Coffey, T. M., Decision Over Schweinfurt. Magnum Books, 1978.

*15 Congressional Medal of Honour website.  Accessed 5 August 2025

*16 Boyd, R. J., ‘Project Casey Jones 1945’, Penn State Hazleton Campus Library.

*17 United States Air Forces in Europe – Air Forces Africa – Third Air Force, website. Accessed 3 October 2025.

*18 West Northamptonshire Council, website. Accessed 27 September 2025.

*19 Rushden Research Group, website. Accessed 11 September 2025.

*20 West Northamptonshire Council, website. Accessed 27 September 2025.

*21 RAF Mildenhall, website. Accessed 17 September 2025.

*22 RAF Mildenhall, website. Accessed 17 September 2025.

*23 Everything Explained Today, website. Accessed 15 February 2026.

*24 Everything Explained Today, website. Accessed 15 February 2026.

*25 West Northamptonshire Council, Northamptonshire Historic Environment Record, website. Accessed 15 February 2026.

Additional references

National Museum of the United States Air Force Website accessed 2 March 2026

The Airborne Assault Paradata website. This provides a wealth of information about the AFEE and airborne operations. It is well worth a read.

Air mobility Command US Air Force, Website Accessed 12 October 2025

Chelveston-cum-Caldecott Parish Council website accessed 20 September 2025

Airfields of Britain Conservation Trust Website.

Rushden “Hearts & Soles” website accessed 20 September 2025

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 8 – A new Chapter Begins

Throughout Part 7 the 305th Bomb Group continued to demonstrate extraordinary courage, with crews surviving horrific damage to their B-17s and earning multiple Medals of Honour for their heroism. By the final months of the war in Europe, they had flown 337 combat missions, dropped over 22,000 tons of bombs, and contributed to both strategic bombing and propaganda efforts. After Germany’s defeat, the group returned to the United States, later reactivating briefly in 1947, 1951, and 1994, leaving a lasting legacy as the “Can-Do Wing.”

From Wartime Urgency to Cold War Necessity

The immediate post-war years then presented the Government with a formidable practical and financial problem. At the end of 1945 there were close to 700 surplus military airfields scattered across the United Kingdom, many of them constructed hurriedly for a wartime need that now suddenly became redundant. Pressure for their disposal came swiftly. Farmers demanded the return of requisitioned land, local authorities saw opportunities for civil airports or industrial development, and the Treasury was keen to reduce the heavy burden of maintenance costs. At the same time, the Air Ministry argued that a proportion should be retained against future uncertainty, either as reserves or for storage and technical purposes.

Across the country the fate of these sites varied. On some airfields, huts and temporary accommodation sites were converted into short-term housing for displaced families during the acute post-war shortage. Elsewhere, hardstands and runways were broken up to provide much-needed hardcore for reconstruction projects. Yet a minority of airfields were kept within the RAF’s control, Chelveston being one of them. Returned to the RAF after the war, it passed to Maintenance Command and was designated as a satellite of No. 25 Maintenance Unit, although this arrangement remained brief. Thereafter, the station entered a period of care and maintenance, a quiet, role that lasted until September 1952.

Despite a rapid post war airfield closure programme, by the early 1950s the pace of reductions had slowed as the international climate dramatically shifted. The emerging Cold War, marked by the formation of the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) in 1949 and intensified by conflicts such as the Korean War, prompted a reassessment of Britain’s defensive position. Air power, particularly with the advent of jets and the nuclear dimension, regained its strategic significance. Selected airfields  across Britain saw their runways lengthened, surfaces strengthened, and dispersal areas improved to accommodate modern aircraft. The 1956 Suez Crisis further strengthened the need for an operational readiness and an overseas capability.

Domestic policy was also playing its part. The National Service Act 1948, which introduced peacetime conscription, kick-started a steady flow of manpower into the armed forces throughout the 1950s. Although costly, and partly due to massed post war demobilisation, National Service enabled the RAF to sustain a larger trained strength than would otherwise have been possible; this made it important to retain, and in some cases reactivate, selected stations for training, reserve or operational activities.

On a wider scale, Anglo-American defence cooperation deepened. Several East Anglian airfields – including RAF Lakenheath, RAF Woodbridge, and RAF Bentwaters – were all developed or upgraded for US Air Force use, while strategic bomber bases such as RAF Wittering were adapted to meet the RAF’s demands in the nuclear era. Disposal of wartime airfields therefore continued, but more selectively: stations once considered redundant suddenly acquired a renewed military value, serving as insurance against an increasingly uncertain international environment.

From Wartime Relic to Strategic Stronghold

In light of these changes, in 1952, a detachment of the 7503rd Air Support Wing (later redesignated the 7253rd ASW) arrived at Chelveston to assess and prepare the station for reactivation, laying the groundwork for construction teams from the 817th Engineer Aviation Battalion (EAB), who began major redevelopment work just two months later. This followed the February 1951 launch of a major US construction programme across twenty-six UK airfields, driven by rising Cold War tensions.

The deployment of American aircraft on British soil was a direct response to the growing Soviet threat seen in both Korea and Eastern Europe. Stationing bombers in the UK significantly reduced flight times to potential targets, thus enhancing both rapid strike capability and strengthening the credibility of Western deterrence. Wartime stations that had lain largely dormant since 1945 were once again recognised as strategically valuable, reflecting the pressures of the emerging jet age and the rapidly evolving political-military situation in Europe.

These physical upgrades coincided with a decisive reorganisation of American air power in the UK. On 20th March 1951, the Strategic Air Command (SAC) activated the 7th Air Division to assume direct control of its strategic bomber forces in Britain; a move that separated nuclear strike responsibilities from the broader command. Weeks later, on 1st May 1951, the Third Air Division was replaced by the Third Air Force, which under NATO, managed tactical air operations, logistics, and support for U.S. units stationed in the UK.

Expanded, modernised, and re-equipped, these airfields were adapted to accommodate the new generation of SAC jet bombers – larger, faster, and more capable than any that had previously operated from British soil. Together, the redevelopment of Britain’s wartime airfields and the restructuring of command reflected the growing permanence of the United States’ commitment to Western Europe’s defence – a position that would endure throughout the Cold War.

This extensive refurbishment work would include new runways, updated or replacement accommodation blocks, secure nuclear-capable bomb stores (or ‘igloos’), larger fuel stores, and a range of technical buildings – and all rapidly constructed.

Chelveston, already being a large site with a long runway, was earmarked for such development. However, its wartime runway had deteriorated and was too short for the new jets. A new, longer, and stronger runway – 12,000 ft in length, among the longest in the UK – was therefore constructed, a task undertaken by the 817th Engineer Aviation Battalion.*17

From Stratojets to Silence

After nearly four years of development that saw the construction of not only the new runway, but additional hardstands, servicing platforms and a technically superior watch office (Type 5589/58 Tower with a visual control room mounted on top of a skeletal frame)*18, the site was transformed. It was then that the 3914th Air Base Squadron (ABS) of the 7th Air Division, SAC, took up residence.

As operators of the airfield, the 3914th ABS would complete any further modifications needed allowing for, in May 1956, the first jet bomber’s arrival. Boeing B-47E-65-LM Stratojet, 53-1881 was flown in by the base Commander Colonel Maynard E. White. On arrival, he was greeted by his deputy commander along with local civic leaders and American families who were now living on the new base. This moment marked the beginning of a new era in Chelveston’s history.*19

Believed to be the first B-47 Stratojet 53-1881 landing at Chelveston. (Public domain via Chelveston-cum-Caldecott Parish Council).

For a the next three years or so, Chelveston would house a small number of B-47s, all nuclear capable. But continual economic changes in the US defence network, meant that many were now placed on ninety day rotations instead of permanent postings.

The airfield became part of a chain of bases housing large bombers of the Strategic Air Command as part of a ‘Reflex Alert’ force. Kept armed and ready, they remained manned on a permanent 15 minute alert basis ready to respond to any Soviet threat that may have come.

With these rotas changing approximately every three months, families were moved about from base to base, a process that carried on for almost eighteen months until mid 1959.

A further change in the global political and strategic field in the last few months of this period, saw a change in aircraft too. The bomber era was now drawing to a close, and at Chelveston, this led to the arrival of the 301st Reconnaissance Wing (RW) equipped with RB-47s – a reconnaissance version of the B-47.

By now, intermediate-range ballistic missiles (IRBM) were being increasingly used more, and several UK bases now had them deployed as an alternative to the heavy bombers.  With ranges of up to 5,500km, they were the catalyst for an arms race, one that would see newer and more powerful weapons propel the world toward the edge of destruction.

As the story of Chelveston draws to a close IRBMs take centre stage, reshaping the balance of power and casting a long shadow over airfield. As these new weapons promise unprecedented reach and destructive potential, the once-bustling bomber base faces an uncertain future. What would become of Chelveston in this rapidly changing landscape – an abandoned relic, secret stronghold, or something else entirely? The final chapter will reveal a story few could have predicted.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 7 – 2 Medals of Honour

In Part 6, the 305th Bomb Group faced some of the most intense and costly operations of the war, including record-setting large formations and the brutal Schweinfurt raids, which inflicted heavy losses on the group. Crews endured extreme physical and mental strain, yet displayed remarkable heroism, earning multiple medals and citations while innovating new tactics and night operations. By late 1943 and early 1944, the group began to benefit from improved technology, navigation systems, and experience, setting the stage for record-breaking missions that would push both men and machines to their limits.

The formation was to cross to the continent where it would  split, each branch finding their predetermined targets, bomb and then reform for the long journey home. Although the weather was poor, fighter escorts did get airborne and they managed to stave off many of the attacks aimed at the bomber stream. For one 305th aircraft though, it would be a major struggle and an heroic one.

In B-17 42-38109 – ‘Cabin in the Sky’ – was pilot 1st Lt. William Robert Lawley Jr, flying only his tenth mission since joining the 364th BS, less than a year previously.

First Lieutenant William R. Lawley, Jr., is congratulated by Lieutenant General Carl Spaatz on the award of the Medal of Honour, 8th August 1944. (IWM UPL 55737)

The aircraft, a B-17G-30-DL (WF-P) was departing the target area with its bomb load intact due to a frozen mechanism, when it suffered a full frontal attack by enemy fighters. Suddenly, a canon shell ripped into the cockpit  killing the co-pilot, Paul Murphy, and striking Lawley in the face severely wounding him.

The attack by around twenty enemy fighters, also wounded every other crewman, in addition to setting an engine on fire. The attack caused the B-17 to enter a dive which could well have been uncontrollable had Lawley not fought back the pain and forced the co-pilot’s hands off the controls with one hand, whilst fighting the aircraft with the other. With a hole in the blood soaked windscreen, cold air forced its way in, adding to the cockpit’s terrible conditions and to the extreme pain Lawley was already feeling.

In fear of an explosion, resulting in total destruction of the aircraft and its crew, Lawley gave the order to bale out, but no one did. Some were simply too injured to do so, and those that were able to, did not want to leave their buddies behind to what must have seemed to be an inevitable fate.

Even whilst enduring further attacks, the engine fire was somehow extinguished, only to be replaced by another in a different engine. Then, a glimmer of hope came over the intercom, the bombardier had managed to free the bombs, thus lightening the load. This allowed the badly injured Lawley to perform incredible evasive action.

But by now, Lawley was exhausted, and was suffering from huge blood loss. Acutely aware of the situation, Mason, the bombardier, took over until Lawley was able to regain his strength and take back the B-17’s controls. With two engines out, a new threat appeared – lack of fuel. Another engine suddenly stopped running, leaving just one to keep the heavy bomber aloft. Somehow, the aircraft managed to not only reach England, but pass over its coastline. Feeling somewhat relieved, but acutely aware of the ever present danger, the crew scoured the horizon for a safe place to land. Redhill suddenly came into view, and just in time, as the B-17 was now losing height, and fire was spreading across the wings.

In great pain, Lawley managed to bring the aircraft down to Earth, performing an amazingly controlled crash landing. Nine of the ten onboard survived to return to duty, Paul Murphy being the only casualty. For his determination to get home, Lawley was awarded the Medal of Honour, the US’s highest award for bravery.

This dramatic event was mirrored by a B-17 of the 351st, then based at  RAF Polebrook. Sadly though, this one ended in the loss of the three crewmen left on board, after the aircraft crashed in a field. For his action, Sgt. Archibald Mathies also received the Medal of Honour.

B-17 42-38109 ‘Cabin in the Sky‘, after crash landing at RAF Redhill. (IWM UPL 55733)

This would not be a solitary awarding of the prestigious Medal of Honour, for it would be repeated just two months later, highlighting the bravery shown by many crewmen during those dark days of World War II.

On April 11th 1944, the Germans yet again made a ferocious attack from the front, a tactic they had devised early on in the American’s war in Europe.

In this instance, 1st Lt. Edward S. Michael was piloting B-17G  ‘Bertie Lee’ 42-37931, as part of the 364th BS on operations to bomb various  targets in Germany, including the Focke-Wulf plant at Sorau. Other targets for the 341 B-17s of the 1st BD, included Cottbus, Dobberphel, Stettin and Trechel.

The aircraft, a Douglas-Long Beach B-17G-20-DL Fortress (WF*D), was flying in formation toward Stettin when it became the focus of a determined enemy attack. To the crew, German fighters appeared to single them out, pressing home repeated assaults, despite escorting fighters and heavy defensive fire from the bomber.

The ferocious attack shattered the cockpit, both pilot and co-pilot (2nd Lt. Franklin Westberg) were wounded, instruments failed, oil covered the windscreen and the aircraft fell into a 3,000 foot spin from which survival seemed over. With skill and strength however, 1st Lt. Michael managed to pull the aircraft out of the dive, only to discover that the bomb bay, still full of incendiaries, was on fire – the result of yet another attack. With damage to the release equipment, the crew were unable to jettison  the bombs – the situation was getting worse.
The only way they could survive now was to bale out, and so Michael gave the order. On doing so, he was greeted by the horrendous sight of the top turret gunner, Jewel Philips, holding his eye in his hand and blood gushing from a severe head wound.

Giving initial aid to the gunner, Michael, himself injured, helped him to the door and out of the aircraft, He was one of seven who made it away.

With the co-pilot and injured bombardier, Lt. Leiber,  still on board, Michael decided he was going to try a crash landing.  Working hard to save the ship for as long as they could, the bombardier managed to finally free the burning incendiaries, and by performing dramatic evasive manoeuvres, Michael managed to  shake off pursuing enemy aircraft; eventually reaching the relative safety of cloud cover.

Now being targeted by flak, he decided to get the aircraft down as low as he could, and flying at almost treetop level, he headed towards England. The aircraft continued to respond well considering the extensive damage it had received, and so they flew on for as long and as far as they could. Miraculously, they reached the English coast, but Michael was exhausted from both his continued efforts and a severe thigh wound, The bombardier took over, circling the aircraft in a holding pattern until Michael had the strength to bring the stricken aircraft down. With no hydraulics, the ball turret jammed down, the undercarriage locked up and the bomb bay doors locked open, it was not going to be an easy ride and the odds of survival were stacked heavily against them.

As if the gods were on their side though, Michael retook control and brought ‘Bertie Lee’ down, its metalwork crunching and groaning as it careered along the grass at RAF Waltham near to Grimsby in Lincolnshire.

For his incredible actions and determination to get home, 1st Lt. Michael received the unit’s second, highest level award, the Medal of Honour.

Extensively damaged, ‘Bertie Lee’ after crash landing at RAF Waltham (IWM UPL 40113).

1st. Lt. Michael’s citation*15 read:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity above and beyond the call of duty while serving as pilot of a B-17 aircraft on a heavy-bombardment mission to Germany, 11 April 1944.

The group in which 1st Lt. Michael was flying was attacked by a swarm of fighters. His plane was singled out and the fighters pressed their attacks home recklessly, completely disregarding the Allied fighter escort and their own intensive flak. His plane was riddled from nose to tail with exploding cannon shells and knocked out of formation, with a large number of fighters following it down, blasting it with cannon fire as it descended.

A cannon shell exploded in the cockpit, wounded the co-pilot, wrecked the instruments, and blew out the side window. First Lt. Michael was seriously and painfully wounded in the right thigh. Hydraulic fluid filmed over the windshield making visibility impossible, and smoke filled the cockpit. The controls failed to respond and 3,000 feet were lost before he succeeded in levelling off.

The radio operator informed him that the whole bomb bay was in flames as a result of the explosion of three cannon shells, which had ignited the incendiaries. With a full load of incendiaries in the bomb bay and a considerable gas load in the tanks, the danger of fire enveloping the plane and the tanks exploding seemed imminent. When the emergency release lever failed to function, 1st Lt. Michael at once gave the order to bail out and seven of the crew left the plane.

Seeing the bombardier firing the navigator’s gun at the enemy planes, 1st Lt. Michael ordered him to bail out as the plane was liable to explode any minute. When the bombardier looked for his parachute he found that it had been riddled with 20-mm fragments and was useless. First Lt. Michael, seeing the ruined parachute, realized that if the plane was abandoned the bombardier would perish and decided that the only chance would be a crash landing.

Completely disregarding his own painful and profusely bleeding wounds, but thinking only of the safety of the remaining crewmembers, he gallantly evaded the enemy using violent evasive action despite the battered condition of his plane. After the plane had been under sustained enemy attack for fully 45 minutes, 1st Lt. Michael finally lost the persistent fighters in a cloud bank.

Upon emerging, an accurate barrage of flak caused him to come down to treetop level where flak towers poured a continuous rain of fire on the plane. He continued into France, realizing that at any moment a crash landing might have to be attempted, but trying to get as far as possible to increase the escape possibilities if a safe landing could be achieved.

First Lt. Michael flew the plane until he became exhausted from loss of blood, which had formed on the floor in pools, and he lost consciousness. The co-pilot succeeded in reaching England and sighted an RAF field near the coast. First Lt. Michael finally regained consciousness and insisted upon taking over the controls to land the plane.

The undercarriage was useless; the bomb bay doors were jammed open; the hydraulic system and altimeter were shot out. In addition, there was no airspeed indicator, the ball turret was jammed with the guns pointing downward, and the flaps would not respond. Despite these apparently insurmountable obstacles, he landed the plane without mishap.

Heroic actions like this, were widely mirrored across the beaches, seas and skies of Normandy that June, when vast numbers of ground, naval and air force personnel combined to carryout the greatest invasion ever known. With operations beginning in the early hours of June 6th 1944, Chelveston’s aircraft would again be involved, dropping leaflets to the French people warning them of the impending allied invasion. It would be a day that would go down in history.

Many of those involved in D-day looked forward to the day they would return home, but returning home was never a guarantee of safety. In December whilst on a mission to bomb the railway marshalling yards at Kassel in Germany, B-17 43-38973 received extensive damage with one engine put out of action. As the aircraft made its way home, it began to lose height and to make matters worse, England was shrouded in fog cutting visibility to near zero.

In an attempt to find a landmark, the pilot took the aircraft lower and lower, a risk that ended in tragedy when it struck a Gee mast at Borough Hill in Northamptonshire. All nine on board were killed in the collision.

337 Missions to Victory: The 305th’s Final Campaigns

The winter of 1944–45 descended with a familiar severity. Snow and ice gripped the airfields, while dense fog rolled across much of Europe, grounding aircraft and testing the endurance of even the most seasoned crews. Yet amid the bitter cold came decisive movement on the ground. Following the Allied breakthrough in the Ardennes, advancing forces pressed steadily into Germany itself. The war’s end was now clearly in sight, but its closing chapter would be anything but quiet. The months that followed brought an intense tempo of operations, as bomber formations crossed the Rhine with increasing confidence. With the Luftwaffe offering only sporadic and weakening resistance, B-17s and B-24s were able to penetrate deep into German territory with far less opposition than in previous years. Mission counts climbed rapidly. Many groups reached the formidable milestone of one hundred operations, and several of the original contingents went well beyond it, their longevity a testament to both endurance and experience.

Gradually, as allied forces made their way across Europe,  the heavy bombers of the allied forces pounded German cities. By March, the 305th had completed its 300th operation, having endured a long and demanding campaign since being amongst one of the first groups to deploy to the UK. In celebration, they were once again given the lead position in an attack on Böhlen-Rötha, Leipzig. Thirty-six aircraft set off that day to find near perfect weather over the target and so bombing was considered highly accurate despite heavy and accurate flak. Of the thirty-six, aircraft despatched, two B-17s were lost from the 305th, one of which carried the command crew – led by Lt. Col. Howell G. Crank in 44-8141. The aircraft was hit by flak and one of its engines knocked out. It then turned over and dived into the ground killing ten of those on board with one taken as a prisoner of war.

A month later on April 25th, 1945, shortly before the war’s end, the 305th would make their final bombing flight bringing Chelveston’s war in Europe to an end. The 305th had achieved an eye-watering 337 combat missions (480 including other types), dropping over 22,000 tons of bombs and over 70 tons of propaganda leaflets. During their time in Britain they had lost in the region of 154 aircraft, received two Distinguished Unit Citations and two airmen had both been awarded a Medal of Honour. In just three short months, on July 25th, they would leave England, heading for a new base at  St. Trond, Belgium (Army Airfield A-92). Their final departure leaving no operational front line units at Chelveston and little prospect of any arriving in the future.

After the defeat of Japan and the formal declaration of world peace in September 1945, the group was posted to Germany where the four squadrons were dispersed to various airfields, prior to their deactivation in the following December. The reason for the move was – and included the 306th from Thurleigh – to photograph two million square miles of land, ranging from Iceland in the north, through Europe to the Soviet frontier in the east, and on to north and west Africa in the south. By splitting the groups, it meant that flying time was reduced and coverage increased.*16

Following that, the 305th Bombardment Group returned to the United States. Crews were demobilised and dispersed, and the aircraft that had endured the rigours of combat over Europe were largely scrapped. The group would then briefly re-emerge in 1947 and again in 1951, each time for only a short period. After another short reprieve in 1994, it was reborn as the 305th Air Mobility Wing, a title under which it continues to operate today. The wartime service of the 305th at RAF Chelveston remains a key part of this lineage; the group’s achievements with the Eighth Air Force between 1942 and 1945 established the reputation of what became known as the “Can-Do Wing.” Chelveston is still recorded in U.S. Air Force historical archives as one of the stations from which the unit first earned its combat distinction, and with it, the legacy of the 305th  continues on.

As peace settled over Europe, Britain faced a daunting challenge: what to do with nearly 700 surplus wartime airfields, many hastily built and suddenly redundant. While some were dismantled or repurposed for civilian use, others – including Chelveston – were quietly retained, waiting for a world that was rapidly becoming uncertain once more. By the early 1950s, the rise of the Cold War, nuclear weapons, and jet bombers would transform these dormant relics into strategic strongholds, setting the stage for a dramatic new chapter in both British and American air power.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 6 – Records, Heroism and Morale

In Part 5, the 305th endured some of the harshest early missions of 1943, suffering heavy losses over the U-boat pens and German targets while crews faced flak, fighters, and extreme winter conditions. Individual acts of courage and ingenuity, from surviving ditchings to improving bomber defences, highlighted both the bravery and inexperience of the fledgling unit. By April, Chelveston was officially transferred to full American control, and the 305th began taking the lead in major operations, earning their first Distinguished Unit Citation for precision bombing and determined action under fire.

April–May 1943: Record Flights, Heroism, and Morale Boosts

Being so new to the war, and with only the four B-17 groups still forming the bulk of the air force, operational records were regularly set and broken. The month of April saw another such record set, with the largest formation of US aircraft taking part. The flight, consisting of 115 B-17s from the four Groups, flew in a new configuration. The 305th formed the rear box, in a new arrangement that only permitted 3,000 ft separation between the low and high boxes.

The four groups from Thurleigh, Bassingbourn, Molesworth and Chelveston had led the way for the 8th Air Force, and by April  they were all becoming very tired and fatigued, and in desperate need of replacements. Although short in coming, replacements and new squadrons were eventually to arrive, helping to bolster both the strength and size of the still small but determined Air Force.

This newly reinforced air force was employed for the first time on 13th May 1943, and again on the 14th and 15th. On this last mission, the 305th were again on the receiving end of the Luftwaffe’s fury, as they hit hard head-on to the formation. In one of these B-17s, every member of the crew, except the tail and right-waist gunner, suffered severe injuries. Such was the crew’s  determination in getting back to Chelveston though, that two DSCs, eight Silver Stars and seven Purple Hearts were awarded to them that day. Those on-board ‘Old Bill’ being the most decorated crew of the 305th by the war’s end.

B-17 42-29673 ‘Old Bill’ 422nd BS, damaged on Wangerooge 15th May 1943.  Featured ground crew: Cpl Willis Todd (inside) and Cpl Zimmerman (outside), (IWM UPL 30085).

The morale of airmen, who faced death on an almost daily basis, was always a problem. To keep spirits up, various visits were arranged, some of which included top entertainers from ‘back home,’ who toured the various airfields and bases in Britain. On July 5th 1943, Frances Langford, Bob Hope and Tony Romano all arrived at Chelveston. Posing for photo shoots, meeting the crews and performing for the personnel were just one way of keeping spirits high.

“Frances Langford, Bob Hope and Tony Romano pose with the crew of the Boeing B-17 ‘Lallah VIII‘ (A/C 242) 5th July 1943. L to R: (P) Lt. Sam Johnstone, (CP) Lt. Elsworth Kenyon, (N) Lt. Martin Licursi, (B/T) Sgt. Arthur Englehardt, Frances Langford, Tony Romano, Bob Hope, (E) Sgt. Donald Baer, (WG) Sgt Richard Lewis, (TG) Sgt. Homer Bagby.(IWM UPL 35399).

August 1943: Schweinfurt, Night Raids, and the Toll of War

But amid these rare glimpses of happiness and momentary reprieves from fear, the war would endure, and the ever-present face of death would soon turn toward them once more.

Whilst Berlin became a name to dread, one other target drove an even sharper stake into the hearts of US airmen, that of Schweinfurt.

Schweinfurt, was a major centre for ball-bearing production. Located north-west of Nuremberg, it was one of Germany’s most prolific suppliers of this vital component. Although it did not produce all of the ball-bearings required by the German war economy, allied strategists believed that by destroying the Schweinfurt plants, they would severely disrupt supplies. By doing so, they would undermine Germany’s ability to sustain the war and bring it to a rapid conclusion.

The first attack, on 1st August 1943, saw the 1st Bombardment Wing (BW) send out 230 bombers in two waves; one of 116 aircraft and the second 114. Of these, thirty-six were lost in the battle; the 382nd and the lead Group the 91st BG, taking the brunt of the attack. The 305th from Chelveston lost ‘only’ two, but a further fourteen were classed as damaged but fortunately  repairable. The initial figures for the overall losses would soon grow though as the full extent of the damage became apparent. The final count neared sixty-three aircraft that were deemed  irreparable and lost. The total loss of aircraft from the operation, rose to in excess of 90, an unsustainable loss for any raid and one that brought home the severity of what the American airmen were facing.

Despite these losses, the raid was considered a success. In Schweinfurt itself, as the last B-17 left the target, a cloud of smoke and fire could be seen, its ferocity engulfing the town. What had been a two hundred year old conurbation of peace and serenity burned ferociously after receiving in excess of 400 tons of bombs – a mix of high explosives, incendiaries and general purpose types. The tranquil, but productive coastal town was in ruins – but the cost in American airman had been high. *11,*12

That same day, the 4th BW sent another 146 of their heavy bombers to Regensburg. Like the Schweinfurt mission, it suffered heavy casualties, with the loss of twenty-four aircraft. All-in-all, August 1st had been a terrible day for the Americans, and despite delivering a devastating blow, the war was clearly far from over.

During September and into October 1943, the 422nd Bomb Squadron of the 305th Bomb Group was withdrawn from daylight flights and retrained for night bombing operations, becoming the first US Army Air Force unit to undertake such activities. During this period, the squadron flew eight night sorties, dropping approximately sixty-eight tons of bombs, along with the unit’s first ‘Nickel’ mission on the night of 7th/8th  October 1943.

‘Nickel’ operations were carried out in cooperation with the RAF, and involved the dropping of propaganda leaflets over occupied Europe. In total, the squadron dispersed around seventy-three tons of leaflets, many of these being thrown out by hand, a slow and exhausting process. To speed things up, crews soon began to push entire boxes from the aircraft in the hope they would burst open in mid-air. A relatively unsuccessful method, it was eventually replaced by an ingenious purpose-built ‘leaflet bomb’. This aerial device was designed to open at a set altitude – often around 1,500 feet – scattering more than 80,000 leaflets in a single drop.

During these operations the squadron worked alongside Radio Counter Measure units as well as the ‘Carpetbaggers’ who were based at RAF Harrington. A common feature of these clandestine organisations was their use of black-painted, often war-weary B-24 Liberators, each one especially adapted for night operations and special duties.*13

Return to Schweinfurt: Catastrophe in the Autumn Skies

The disaster of Schweinfurt would never be far away though. In October, the city would raise its head once more, and once again losses for the Eighth would be high.

The morning of the 14th was cold and foggy, and many hoped that the day’s mission would be cancelled. Unfortunately, no such call came, and as crews sat in their briefing rooms, a hush fell as the curtain was drawn all the way back to reveal Schweinfurt. Gasps and groans filled the various briefing rooms as the details of the operation were read out.

At take off, the 305th were late, by about six minutes, meaning  that they had to catch up with the formation who were gradually pulling away from them. As a result, they were out of their place as they left the English coast, and desperate to catchup for the protection that the formation gave. After flying around trying to locate their place, the lead pilot Major Charles Normand, decided to slot in to the 1st Combat Wing’s low position, replacing the also late 381st.

Shortly after 13:00 hrs, the fighter escort withdrew, leaving the bombers to fend for themselves and allowing the waiting Luftwaffe to make their move. Single and twin-engined fighters now attacked the formation from every direction. Stukas, dropped timed bombs from above, and from around the sides rockets, canons and machine guns were emptied into the formation. The 305th in the vulnerable low position, took the initial brunt. Gunners were frantic in their attempts to defend themselves, using up ammunition at an incredible rate.

As the formation approached Duren, a number of B-17s began to smoke and fall back. Single-engined fighters attacked head on, diving away at the last minute whilst twin-engined aircraft fired rockets from the rear. One of the 305th’s B-17s was hit by one of these rockets, its wing folding and the fuselage opening up revealing badly injured crewmen inside. With no parachutes they simply fell from the sky. The Pilot fought to keep what little of the B-17 was left together, a fruitless task that ended in an dramatic and final fireball.

Further attacks continued to focus on those aircraft of the 305th, the 92nd and Kimbolton’s 379th. Aircraft after aircraft began smoking, slowly falling out of formation with cut engines or damaged control surfaces. No longer able to keep up, they became sitting ducks.

Over the target, Luftwaffe fighters were joined by flak. A barrage of accurate and intense 88mm bursts welcomed the bombers whose numbers were by now depleted.

Still in the low squadron position, the 305th’s Major Normand now led only three aircraft, twelve of the original fifteen sent out had gone –  shot down by enemy fighters. Determined to do their job, they declined a move to a safer position and made their own bomb run into the target.

The mayhem wreaked havoc on the formation. By the time they reached the target the 305th were further out of position, and the lead bombardier requested a second try. Knowing how dangerous that would be and how it would put them in a lonely situation, Normand refused and told Lt. Pellegrini to ‘do his best’. As they left the city, another B-17 from Chelveston went down, and after 100 minutes of continuous attack, the 305th were down to just two aircraft.

On return to England, many aircraft became lost in thick cloud and were abandoned, left to fall out of the sky as crews parachuted out. Those that did find land tried to locate any airfield they could and get down whilst they still had fuel in their tanks. It had been a costly operation. 600 airmen were lost that day, 130 of them from Chelveston. The Mighty Eighth had taken another beating and it would almost end their aerial warfare campaign. The only saving grace being that one of the crews who went down, had manged to get to Switzerland where they were interned.*14

The losses suffered by the 305th that day were the highest of all groups who took part. It had been a devastating blow leaving Chelveston depleted of many young airmen who were by now experienced and battle hardened veterans – many still in their twenties. As a consolation for the group, when allied troops overran the city in April 1945, the captured Nazi flag that proudly flew for so long over the city, was handed to the 305th as a souvenir.

As for Schweinfurt, 500 tons of bombs had dealt another devastating blow to the historic town. Flak batteries had decimated the American formation, and fighters had given their all, but still the American’s determination got them through. Schweinfurt would go down in history. It would forever be remembered on American bases as the battle that took so many lives and the one that nearly killed off the Eighth Air Force.

The terrible losses that day would never be repeated by the Chelveston crews. As they approached the year’s end, they hoped for better and they got it. Unbeknown to them at the time, December 20th 1943, would be the start of a record fifty-six missions without loss for the 365th BS of the Chelveston group. – a run that took them almost to D-Day, 6th June 1944.

Against All Odds: Two Medals of Honour in the Winter of 1944

The early months of 1944, saw the first use of ‘Gee’ by American Pathfinders. A pioneering system that used radio navigation to significantly improve bombing accuracy by timing the gap between two radio signals from ground stations. Hardwick’s 329th, who were part of the 93rd BG, had been trialling the new system since 1942, and it was finally deemed ready for operations. In these early stages, missions focussed on ‘No ball’ targets – V1 launch sites – where Gee could be tested to the limit. Such was the desire to perfect the system that almost half of the 29 missions carried out in January and February, used it.

January would also see another major award for the Chelveston Group. On the 11th following a raid on the aircraft factory at Halberstadt, the 1st Bomb Division, (formerly 1st Bomb Wing), were awarded the Distinguished Unit Citation; for the 305th, it was their second of two such awards.

A month later, on 20th February 1944, a combined force of over one thousand American aircraft of the 1st, 2nd and 3rd Bomb Divisions (BD) took part in operations. The 305th, as part of the 1st BD, were ordered to hit targets at Leipzig, Heiterblick, Abtnaundorf, Bernburg, Oschersleben. Failing that, they were to hit any target that presented itself as an opportunity.

The sky over Europe had become a crucible, where bravery, skill, and sheer willpower were tested to their absolute limits. For the crews of the 305th, every mission brought them face-to-face with death, yet time and again they defied the odds, fighting through blazing cockpits, flaming engines, and relentless enemy attacks. As they pushed ever deeper into the heart of Nazi territory, every flight carried the weight of a nation – and the question hung in the air: who would make it home, and who would not?

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 5 – Cinematic Fame

In Part 4, we saw how the arrival of the 305th Bombardment Group under Col. Curtis LeMay transformed Chelveston into a hub of innovation and determination. LeMay’s leadership and forward-thinking tactics shaped the group’s early operations, pioneering formation flying and lead-bomber bombing methods that would improve accuracy and survivability. Despite harsh conditions and a steep learning curve, the 305th quickly developed into a highly effective unit, setting the standard for future B-17 operations and laying the groundwork for its critical role in the air war over Europe.

Crews, Combat, and Cinematic Fame: Chelveston in 1943

Back in the United States, interest in joining the Army Air Forces remained high, fuelled in part by carefully crafted propaganda films designed to sustain public support and encourage enlistment. During the winter of 1942–43, both Bassingbourn and Chelveston became film locations for director William Wyler, who was already renowned for Mrs Miniver. His documentary-style productions would immortalise one particular B-17 – ‘Memphis Belle’, securing her place as perhaps the most famous Flying Fortress of them all.

Despite all these ventures back home, the USAAF remained an infant unit, who faced  an ever increasing number and ferocity of air battles as 1943 dawned.  The cold of January 3rd would see the 305th leading yet another attack on the submarine pens at St. Nazaire, which had so far proven indestructible. Not only were there heavy and accurate flak batteries protecting them, but the pen’s walls, over 9m thick, were impenetrable by any current weapon in the military arsenal.

For the bombers, the long, straight run in to the target seemed like running a gauntlet, met with a well-planned barrage placed in front of the bombers, it was a daunting sight for any crew to face. It was so fierce, that of the eighty-five aircraft sent out that day, seven were classified as missing, whilst more than half of those remaining suffered flak damage of varying degrees.

Carrying 1,000 lb General Purpose bombs, some 171 tonnes were released, a mere drop in the ocean compared to figures achieved later in the war – and it barely scratched the surface of the pens.

Although seen as a successful operation, it had seen the highest loss of the 8th Air Force’s war so far, and with two aircraft crash landing on return after getting lost – the lack of experience of these fledging crews was becoming evermore evident.

Despite the losses and cold though, there was no let up for the crews of the 305th. On the 27th January, they were once again in the winter skies. This time it would be Germany itself, and the 8th Air Force’s first venture in the Nazi airspace.

The target for the day was Vegesack on the Wesser river, seen as a priority target for air operations. However, once over the  continent, the bombers were faced with thick cloud and little chance of finding the target, let alone bombing it. Turning to their secondary target, they headed for Wilhelmshaven, where they  found only moderate flak and light fighter cover.

As a result, loses were light that day, three aircraft went down, one of which was a Chelveston bomber 41-24637 (KY-F), and even though many bombs fell harmlessly away from the target area, the mission was still widely celebrated and praised by the press.

The loss of the B-17 brought home the brutality of what they were facing. Although some of the crew managed to bail out (five were taken as POWs) another five were killed; the ball turret gunner Sgt. Roy Whitney and tail gunner S. Sgt. Robert Ames were killed in the attack. The other three, were attacked by fighters as they parachuted through the sky, two of whom, T.Sgt. Bernice Farmer and S. Sgt. Jerome Kissleheff were killed. The last crewman, S. Sgt. Le Roy Mason, died after hitting the ground, his parachute shot to pieces.*9

Trial by Fire: The 305th’s Gruelling February Raids

Typically, the opening days of February were marked by persistent poor weather, which resulted in several planned missions being abandoned, some even after the Fortresses had departed England. On 4th February, however, the 305th did manage to get airborne, dispatching eighteen aircraft toward Hamm. Although faced with adverse weather, the formation were undeterred, instead diverting to their secondary target – Emden.

Despite their determination and ‘Can do’ attitude, none of the 305th’s aircraft succeeded in bombing the target. What’s worse, the mission also proved costly, as one aircraft 41-24593 (WF-G) ‘El Lobo’, collided head-on with a FW-109 after it was hit by flak. Another B-17 was shot down by a twin-engined fighter – the likes of which had not been seen in the skies before.

‘El. Lobo’ and her crew before being lost over Hamm (IWM UPL 13288).

Later in the month, on 26th February, the 305th took part in another operation to Germany. The primary objective here was the Focke-Wulf factory at Bremen, with orders to divert to the submarine pens at Wilhelmshaven should weather conditions once again prevent an effective attack.

After briefing for Bremen, twenty B-17s of the 305th joined with  other B-17s of the 91st, (20), 303rd (19) and 306th (17), and seventeen B-24s of the 44th and 93rd BGs. Forming up over the Norfolk coast, the whole formation was led by the 305th.

Heading toward the target, they quickly became weakened. In the first one hundred miles, some twenty aircraft turned back, either through mechanical issues or personnel problems. As a result, the protective firepower of the group was significantly reduced, and those who were left faced a greater risk from attack.

On reaching Baltyrum Island, the formation began its descent toward the target. At this point, they were attacked by a lone fighter, an FW-190, only to be replaced minutes later by others from 12./JG1. Continuing on, the formation reached Oldenburg , albeit relatively unscathed. Here the formation experienced cloud cover, and the decision was made by Major J. Preston, the formation commander, to turn 1800 north, and head to the secondary target Wilhelmshaven.

Due to various reasons, the normally faster B-24s were unable to keep up with the B-17s, and three aircraft from the 44th, began to lag behind. Being vulnerable away from the protective firepower of the bigger formation, they were immediately attacked by enemy fighters, with two being brought down.

Over the next forty minutes or so, seven aircraft were shot down during a blistering attack by a mix of Me-109s, FW-190s, Ju-88s and Me-110s, who were not only firing canons into the formation, but dropping aerial bombs as well. Two of those lost during the melee were from the 305th whilst others from the same group were severely damaged.

On board one of those B-17s was 2nd. Lt. James Moberly, in 41-24617 ‘Southern Comfort’, but Moberly’s story is one of luck more than good judgement. Increasing crew injuries had led to them being advised to wear steel helmets, which were proving to be cumbersome and awkward in the heat of battle, many choosing not to wear them. Moberly had decided that day to wear his, a decision that would save his life.

Whilst firing one of the nose guns, a cannon shell struck the aircraft exploding just above his head, the force knocking him down so hard, he cracked the navigator table. After looking at the rather large hole in the fuselage, he examined his helmet to find several large dents caused by the shell that would otherwise have probably killed or at best, severely wounded him. From then on, he was convinced of the helmet’s benefits and it always went with him.

The plane was so badly damaged by flak in the attack, that one engine was knocked out, discharging oil over the wing. Furthermore, a four-foot hole had been blown in the rudder and the aircraft was riddled from nose to tail by bullets and canon fire. On setting a  hopeful course for home, the pilot asked those aboard to pray, a last ditch effort to save the aircraft and its crew. Whether through God’s help, or pure determination and will power, they reached Chelveston, and the pilot placed the aircraft down on the runway. Once news got out about their exploits, they became known as the crew that ‘prayed’ their aircraft back.

In another one of these aircraft B-17F 41-24604 ‘Arkie’ [KY:D], was pilot Everett E. Tribbett who, after baling out, was captured and sent to Frankfurt before ending up at Stalag Luft III. Once inside, his skills were quickly put to good use, becoming involved in clandestine radios within the camp – an activity that would have had severe consequences if discovered. The aircraft meanwhile, named after Tribbett’s  wife, came down at Hookseil, ten miles north of Wilhelmshaven.

In a third B-17, 41-24623, the ball turret gunner, S. Sgt. Lee ‘Shorty’ Gordon was captured after baling out of his stricken aircraft. His determination to ‘get home’, though, led to him escaping no less than a reported five times, even using his diminutive size to pose as a child in one failed attempt.

Gordon’s story was initially told in the Air Force’s Service Journal just after he was reported missing in action; followed in 1944 by the boy’s comic True Comic. It was later recalled in both The Writing 69th by Jim Hamilton (1999) and Air Gunner by Andy Rooney & Bud Hutton. As the first US airman to escape and make his way home, Gordon was awarded the Silver Star.*10

Gordon was only one of five survivors from the downed plane, each one of them being located in the mid and rear sections of the stricken aircraft.

Whilst the formation had taken a beating, the 303rd BG from Molesworth reported no damage at all. By contrast, Chelveston’s 305th reported fourteen aircraft damaged, from flak, cannon fire, or even falling shell cases from nearby aircraft.

Several enemy aircraft were claimed as either ‘kills’ or ‘damaged’ that day, but as with many of these early claims, the numbers of actual enemy aircraft shot down, was for various reasons, hugely exaggerated. It is now known that only one enemy aircraft was lost that day, a considerable difference, but an understandable one at that. Of the ninety-three bombers that took off on that mission, only sixty-five managed to bomb the target. It had been a difficult day for the Eighth, and one the 305th was relieved to leave behind.

Spring 1943: Hardship, Heroism, and American Takeover

But the winter had taken its toll. By the time spring arrived, the 305th had lost nearly half its crews, whilst the other fledgling groups were down to almost a fifth of their original number. Men on sick leave, or in hospital beds were ordered back into their aircraft, reports of fights, random gunfire in dormitories and aggressive behaviour were becoming commonplace. The mental state of some had deteriorated to new levels, resulting in temporary blindness, extreme behaviours and mental stress that  affected many. In fear of being labelled as cowards, many hid their true feelings lashing out at those closest to them. The air force’s answer was swift, to demote, move or even discharge these men before they ‘infected’ those around them.

With an aim to boost morale and lift falling spirits, the personnel of Chelveston were treated to a little bit of joy. On April 19th 1943 the airfield was officially handed over, by the RAF, to full American control. In a short, but simple ceremony, in which the Stars and Stripes were hoisted, Flt. Lt. H. W. Davies RAF handed over control to Brig-Gen Fredrick Lewis Anderson, of the 1st Bombardment Group USAAF. Chelveston was at last now officially an American base and would be known as Station 105.

Despite losses and misgivings though, the 305th were beginning to take centre stage in the air war. April’s first operation, on the 4th, saw them the lead group once more. After departing Chelveston in the late morning, they joined with the three other B-17 groups in the UK: the 91st, 303rd and 306th, taking an incredible three hours to form up and achieve cruising altitude. The escort of Spitfires that had joined them, had little to do on the way to the target, as the Luftwaffe were strangely no where to be seen.

Of the entire formation, the 305th achieved the most accurate bombing results, with a high proportion of their bombs falling on the target itself. This accuracy resulted in damage to a number of the Renault factory buildings, reputedly putting them out of action for several months afterwards.

On the flight home however, the 305th once again learned what it meant to be the lead group, when a large formation of enemy fighters struck head-on in a fierce, determined attack. It was here that three of the 305th’s B-17s went down and a forth would be forced to land away with wounded onboard at Dunsfold airfield.

Although the Chelveston group had taken a beating, they had also set a record. The gunners of ‘Dry Martini 4th’ claiming an unprecedented ten enemy aircraft shot down, half of those claimed that day by the entire 305th. For this and for showing great determination in leading the formation, on return, the 305th received its first Distinguished Unit Citation (DUC).

In Part 6, the 305th, still a relatively new and thinly stretched force, faced unprecedented challenges as the Eighth Air Force began flying ever-larger formations into increasingly hostile skies. From record-setting mass raids in May to the punishing assaults over Schweinfurt, Chelveston’s crews were pushed to the limits of endurance, bravery, and ingenuity, earning medals and accolades even as friends and aircraft were lost around them. As winter 1944 approached, with new navigation technology and record-breaking missions on the horizon, the 305th were about to step into a phase of the air war that would test everything they had learned – and threaten to change the course of the Eighth Air Force forever.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 4 – The ‘Can-Do’ Group

We saw in Part 3 how the USAAF’s 301st Bombardment Group transformed Chelveston into an operational heavy-bomber station, launching their first combat missions over Europe. Early operations brought the group face-to-face with enemy fighters, resulting in casualties and dramatic incidents, including a heavily damaged B-17 returning to RAF Gatwick and another ditching in the Channel. By late November, the 301st had departed for North Africa, leaving Chelveston ready to welcome its next unit, the 305th Bombardment Group.

These early battles gave great hope for the men of the 8th Air Force, with low losses they were perhaps, lured into a false sense of security and feelings of an easy battle ahead. But all that was to be washed away, when over the coming months, the 8th would become battle hardened and severely scarred.

Forging the ‘Can-Do’ Group: Col. Curtis LeMay and the 305th Bombardment Group

The 305th, who arrived here in early December 1942, were led by the tough and innovative Col. Curtis LeMay whose drive and leadership led to the rookie 305th, being known as the ‘Can do’ Group.

LeMay was a very quiet man, but commanded respect from those beneath him. He was slightly forgiving, but he would not tolerate being lied to. LeMay, never having been in battle himself, forged his career in the United States where he learnt every detail of the B-17, the bomber he was about to take to war. LeMay looked to the likes of Col. Armstrong for guidance, asking him question after question about his experiences and tactics, absorbing his advise like a sponge. Many of Armstrong’s answers he took strictly at face value, however, only to realise later, that perhaps Armstrong was not the man LeMay thought he was.

Through his leadership style, LeMay earned the title of ‘Iron Ass’, a grudging respect from those who followed him. The 305th, led by LeMay, would be a forward thinking group, one who would go on to develop pioneering methods of aerial bombing and battle formation flying.

The heavy armament of the B-17 gave the highest level of protection when in a tight formation, each gun covering a wide arc thus protecting all the others in the group. By forming a ‘box’, this level of protection was at its highest, a style developed by the 305th. With bombing accuracy becoming a major issue for the USAAF, the idea of a lead crew, was another idea stemming from the experiences of the 305th and LeMay. By having a single lead upon whom the whole formation would bomb, accuracy was improved and concentrations of bombs in the target area increased. Both these methods became standard operating procedures throughout the 8th Air Force during the Second World War.

The 305th like the 301st before them, and now their sister squadron the 306th at Thurleigh, were amongst the first few units to arrive in the UK, and as newbies with no battle experience, they faced an incredibly long and steep learning curve.

The 305th arrived in the UK forming initially at RAF Grafton Underwood around September 12th, 1942, bringing together both the ground and air echelons as they prepared to commence operations over Europe. The mud and cold that greeted them would quickly become their bed-partner, remaining with them for the duration of their wartime lives.

The conditions at Grafton were appalling and the airfield was totally unfit for a bomber unit. It would take an enormous amount of upgrading and huge renovations to improve it. This would mean the newly arrived 305th would have to move out, a move that signalled the beginning of their time at Chelveston. Over the Period 6th to 11th December, they transferred across, a temporary measure that quickly became permanent lasting the duration of the war.

Their journey to Chelveston began back at Salt Lake City where they were activated on March 1st 1942. They spent a large part of their training at Muroc Lake Air base (now Edwards Air Force base) before the ground echelon sailed on Queen Mary in early September, arriving at Greenock on 12th. The air echelon meanwhile didn’t leave until October, advanced flight training taking place at Syracuse, New York, in the weeks prior to their departure. Flying the usual northern route they brought their B-17Fs via Presque Isle, Gander and Prestwick, before routing to Grafton underwood.

Following Roosevelt’s controversial slimming down of the Eighth, the 305th, together with the 91st, 303rd and 306th, formed the only B-17 groups remaining in the command, while the 44th and 93rd were its sole B-24 units. Collectively, they constituted the backbone of an Eighth Air Force, stripped to little more than this handful of operational groups – a striking force reduced to a shadow of its intended strength. But then, even that would be cut back, with elements of the B-24s being sent to North Africa as well, and not returning to the UK until the following summer after which time, the B-17s had ‘flown the US’s flag’ over occupied Europe.

Fearing that heavy losses would catastrophically reduce the remaining groups to a handful of aircraft and crews, Spatz and Eaker mounted relatively ‘safe’ operations, those featuring little penetration into the European stronghold. However, the chances of loses, even at those short distances, continued to remain high.

Tactics and Innovation: The 305th’s Early Combat Lessons

The 305th’s first mission would happen a month after their arrival at Grafton on 17th November 1942 against the U-boat pens at St. Nazaire.  It was during these early missions that the Luftwaffe pilots worked out that a full frontal attack on a B-17 would target it’s weakest point – a blind spot in the gunners forward arc. Here, the fighters had both a better chance of survival and the ability to cripple an aircraft by killing both its pilot and co-pilot in a well aimed attack.

To combat this weakness. two innovative Thurleigh ground crew  devised a method by which the nose guns could be moved and supported thus filling the gap in the arc. After developing and trialling the new fixture, the system quickly became standard fittings on later B-17s across the air force.

For the 305th, the otherwise fierce attack of 17th November proved a rare exception: they returned without a single casualty – one of only a handful of units to do so – despite nearly a quarter of the dispatched aircraft sustaining damage from concentrated machine-gun and cannon fire.

These early battles highlighted a stark reality: losses and damage were disproportionately high when set against the relatively small numbers of aircraft taking part. LeMay, latched onto this, and quickly became the driving force behind efforts to improve both survival and bombing effectiveness.

After being told by Armstrong never to fly straight and level for more than a few seconds on the bomb run, LeMay did exactly the opposite, leading his group for some 4 minutes toward the target. Whilst this tactic was indeed a gamble, the 305th’s bombing record was soon to be far in excess of other groups especially those who followed the Armstrong doctrine.

LeMay, encouraged by these successes, also began experimenting with new combat formations, seeking a balance between maximising defensive firepower and reducing the risk of bombers damaging one another in the chaos of fighter attacks. His solution was the development of the staggered ‘box’ formation, arranged both vertically and horizontally. To preserve bombing accuracy and avoid aircraft jostling for position, all bombers would release their loads simultaneously on the lead aircraft’s command. These methods proved to be so effective that they were also quickly adopted as standard practice throughout the entire Eighth Air Force.

In the next part of Chelveston’s history, we see the 305th pushed to the limits of courage and endurance, facing punishing winter raids over the U-boat pens and the heart of Germany. Crews battled flak, fighters, freezing conditions, and the strain of inexperienced personnel, while stories of survival, heroism, and narrow escapes emerged from each mission. Just as morale teetered under the weight of losses, the airfield itself was officially handed over to full American control – yet even this milestone could not prepare them for the next series of deadly operations that would test the 305th like never before.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 3 – Early Operations

In Part 2 we saw how RAF Chelveston opened in August 1941 under RAF Bomber Command’s 2 Group while construction and runway extensions continued to bring the station up to heavy-bomber standards. Early activity centred on training and experimental work, including operations by the Central Gunnery School and airborne trials carried out by the Airborne Forces Experimental Establishment. The arrival of the American 60th Transport Group in mid-1942 introduced the first USAAF presence at the airfield, and although their stay was brief before departing for North Africa, senior Allied visits soon followed, hinting that Chelveston’s role was about to change significantly.

Chelveston Goes to War: Early Operations of the 301st

A change in management led to Major Kincaid (USAAF) assuming responsibility for the control of RAF Chelveston just before the station’s first formal operational unit, the USAAF’s 301st Bombardment Group (BG), was preparing to arrive. His oversight ensured that the transition from a training and transit airfield to an active bomber station proceeded smoothly.

With Chelveston now upgraded to accommodate heavy bombers, the newly arrived B‑17F Flying Fortresses of the 301st BG became the first operational aircraft to fly from the airfield. In taking up residence, the group inherited the original ‘J’-type hangar, a distinctive but unusual feature on USAAF bases, as few American stations were equipped with them.

The 301st’s journey to the UK began at Geiger Field in  Washington, before flying the northern route via Greenland and Iceland to Prestwick, arriving here with twenty aircraft, 115 officers, one warrant officer and 1,395 enlisted men.

On arriving at Chelveston in mid-August 1942, the group was far from operational readiness, a situation compounded by the lack of accommodation for all four squadrons. As a temporary measure, the 352nd Bomb Squadron moved to the satellite station at RAF Poddington. It was not until 2nd September, when the RAF anti-aircraft regiment transferred from Chelveston to RAF Ludham in Norfolk, that the squadron could return, reuniting the group once more.

With all four squadrons, the 32nd, 352nd, 353rd, and 419th, all now together at Chelveston, operations could begin, and it wouldn’t be long before they did.

As with most early operations, the first few were to coastal targets in France and the low countries, considered easier targets or ‘milk runs’, they were initially designed to acclimatise crews to combat conditions.

The Group’s initiation to the European theatre occurred on 2nd  September 1942. An operation that took them to the locomotive engine sheds at Rouen. During the operation, twelve aircraft jointly from the 352nd and 419th set off to drop their payload on the target. Two aircraft returned early, one from each squadron, leaving the remainder to drop their 40 x 1,000lb bombs on the locomotive sheds. With no losses, it was a relatively successful start to their wartime journey.

The 301st would be in action again on the 6th, with thirteen aircraft despatched but only eleven being effective. On this occasion, the Eighth AF suffered their first heavy bomber losses with two aircraft (one each from the 92nd and 97th Bomb Groups) going down; the 301st on the other hand would see all their aircraft return. With two more ‘uneventful’ operations on the 7th and the 26th, September drew to a close with little to report.

The first casualties for the group occurred on October 2nd, with a twenty-five ship operation to the Meaulte aircraft factory. Whilst all aircraft returned, one was forced to crash land at RAF Gatwick after three of the aircrew on board were wounded by enemy fighter attacks.

The 301st BG found itself squarely in the sights of the Luftwaffe that day, and at the rear of the formation B-17 41‑24397 ‘Phyllis’ bore the worst of the punishment. As the tail-end Charlie, she was repeatedly singled out by attacking Fw-190s. One pass after another tearing into the aircraft, smashing the top turret and badly wounding the gunner inside. Moments later the outboard starboard engine began to run wildly out of control, while further damage left the inboard engine completely dead.

With control cables severed, ‘Phyllis’ pitched violently, rearing into a steep climb that the crew struggled to contain. As if the situation were not already desperate, part of the oxygen system failed, further increasing the danger faced by those on board. Damage to the wing and control surfaces meant that simply holding level flight demanded the full attention and cooperation of the entire crew, and even then it could not be sustained for long.

At last, British soil came into view. Spotting the first airfield they could, the pilot headed for RAF Gatwick. Given the aircraft’s battered condition and the risks involved, they elected to make a wheels-up landing – often the safest option under such circumstances. ‘Phyllis’ came down and skidded across the airfield, clipping a hangar before finally safely coming to a rest.

B-17 ‘Phyllis’ of the 301st BG after crash-landing at RAF Gatwick. (IWM UPL 36745).

Only afterwards did the full extent of her ordeal become clear. The aircraft was found to have absorbed around 300 small-calibre hits, at least sixteen cannon shell penetrations, and evidence of concentrated fire around the tail. Three members of the crew had been wounded, and it was little short of remarkable that the bomber had remained airborne for as long as it did. That survival owed much to the skill and determination of the pilots, the teamwork of the crew, and the inherent strength of the B-17’s construction.*8

A subsequent mission on the 9th October to the Compagnie de Fives steel works at Lille, France, saw further casualties for the 301st, and for the first time, an Eighth Air Force bomber ditching in the sea.

The B-17, 41-24362, piloted by 1st. Lt. Donald M. Swenson, was badly damaged by fighters knocking out or damaging, three of the four engines, causing the aircraft to lose altitude rapidly. Swenson, with the intercom out of action, gave the controls to the co-pilot and went back to instruct each member of the crew to prepare for ditching. With rough seas, it was not going to be easy, and even though the crew were prepared, some were caught off guard by the 15 – 20 foot swell and were thrown about the aircraft causing minor injuries as they did so.

After the aircraft came to rest on the water, most of the crew escaped through the gun port, while the pilot and co-pilot forced their way out through the cockpit windows. To their dismay, only one of the life rafts proved serviceable, the other having been damaged by gunfire in the attacks. Three of the airmen were able to climb aboard the intact raft, while the remainder could do no more than cling to its sides. Having discarded their sheepskin flying jackets – which quickly became waterlogged and dangerously heavy – they remained in the sea roughly a mile off North Foreland (Margate).

Luckily on the way down,  the radio operator had sent out a may-day giving their position to the RAF’s Rescue Service who were quickly on the scene. Once there, they managed to successfully retract each crewmember from the water.

But, the story behind the aircraft goes a little deeper than being the first successful ditching by a USAAF aircraft. The B-17 was initially earmarked for RAF service, as a MK II FA667,  through the lend-lease agreement, but was diverted to the USAAF at the last minute. Then, on only its third operation with the 301st, and just before the aircraft departed on its flight, one of the ground crew, M. Sgt. Glenn Doerr, persuaded the pilot to allow him to fly with them without official permission – a decision he would no doubt regret. However, his part in the rescue of the crew must have played a large part in redeeming his misdemeanour, no doubt, thereby, reducing the severity of his punishment on his return to Chelveston.

On November 8th, the 301st would perform their final mission as part of the 8th Air Force, as on the 23rd, a mere three months after their arrival in the UK, they were ordered to relocate to the 12th Air Force in Algeria.

Like the 60th TCG, the 301st (and 97th at Polebrook), were all ordered out under the direction of Roosevelt, who, influenced by Churchill, sent units to bolster the war in North Africa. Churchill – fearing that an inadequate invasion force sent to Northern France would be decimated – persuaded Roosevelt to postpone the invasion and concentrate on bolstering the Africa campaign instead.

Eisenhower, the commander picked by Roosevelt to lead Operation Torch, was bitterly opposed to the plan, and when Henry H. Arnold (General of the Army; Commanding General, U.S. Army Air Forces) was informed, he too was furious. The move would strip back the fledgling Eighth Air Force, almost killing it before it even got off the ground.

Despite their misgivings though, the various groups departed the UK and headed for North Africa, the 301st leaving Chelveston far behind.

During their brief tenure at the airfield, the 301st completed just eight operational missions, losing just a single aircraft in actual combat. Between the 8th and 23rd of the month they were formally designated ‘non-operational’ while preparations for their relocation were put in hand.

Their departure was marked by a visit from King George VI, who toured the station in the company of Col. R. Walker, Commanding Officer of the 301st, and Squadron Leader Robert Clayton.

King George VI with Colonel Robert Walker and Squadron Leader Robert Clayton during a visit to the 301st Bomb Group at Chelveston. (IWM FRE 9802).

The 301st’s departure from Chelveston on 26th November, would then leave the airfield all but empty and ready for a new group, and it would be another B-17 group, the 305th, that would fill that space.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

Trail 66 – RAF Chelveston – Part 1 – Important Beginnings.

In Trail 66, we return to the Bedfordshire and Northamptonshire borderlands to visit the site of another former bomber airfield that has been almost entirely erased from the landscape. Although its wartime service was relatively brief, it was defined by intense operational pressures, loss, and remarkable acts of heroism.

Despite continuing in use well into the Cold War and beyond, the airfield failed to leave the regional mark it deserved. Over time, its purpose changed and its structures were gradually removed, the land being adapted to modern energy use, leaving little visible evidence of its former importance. This transformation stands in contrast to the role the station once played and the legacy it holds today.

Home to a small number of RAF units, it was predominately an American base during the Second World War, and remained with them into the depths of the Cold War. Although flying activity ceased in 1962 with the departure of the modern United States Air Force, a military presence remained there until the Ministry Of Defence (MOD) sold the site as recently as 2005.

Whilst some aspects of the original airfield do remain, the vast majority has been decommissioned and removed, including the runways, works buildings and training facilities, leaving little more than ghostly evidence behind.

In this part of our trip to Northants and Bedfordshire, we visit the former RAF Chelveston.

RAF Chelveston (Station 105).

RAF Chelveston (Station 105) lies across the two counties of  Bedfordshire and Northamptonshire, and although the border crosses roughly through the centre, the majority of the site lies in Northampton. Like many wartime airfields it went through a series of name changes depending upon who owned  it at the time. Today it is known as Chelveston Renewable Energy Park, reflecting its modern use as the ‘centre of technological innovation’ capable of producing enough electricity, to power 60,000 properties.*1

During the planning stages in 1940 the aerodrome site was briefly referred to as Shelton, after the nearby village to the east. Before the station officially opened in 1941, however, the name was changed and it entered service as RAF Chelveston, the official British designation. Later in the war the airfield passed into American control and was designated Station 105 by the United States Army Air Force. Over the years though, it was also referred to as RAF Station Chelveston, and simply Chelveston Aerodrome, reflecting both its early planning name and the variety of roles it fulfilled throughout its operational history.

The land upon which the airfield sits, lies approximately four miles to the east of Rushden and about twenty-seven miles south-west of Peterborough. It shares a region – designated by a Peterborough, Northampton and Bedford triangle – with a number of other former bomber airfields including Kimbolton, Thurleigh and Molesworth.

The land for Chelveston (a name derived from a Norman family) was acquired by the Air Ministry in 1940, with construction beginning shortly afterwards. The airfield was initially intended for the RAF and the reformed 8 Group, with Taylor-Woodrow Ltd serving as the main contractor. At first, it had grass runways and minimal storage, consisting of a single ‘J’-type brick-and-metal hangar measuring 300 ft by 151 ft. Later, two ‘T2’-type metal hangars were added, each 240 ft long, 115 ft wide, and 29 ft high. The original design fell under development scheme ‘M’ of the Government’s expansion programme, which essentially replaced the earlier ‘C’-type hangars with the newer ‘J’-type. Since construction began during the war rather than before it, accommodation sites were dispersed away from the main airfield site – unlike pre-war designs, where living quarters were typically located on-site.

At Chelveston, these accommodation sites were positioned to the south-west of the airfield, unusually close to the main runway’s flightpath – in-fact within just a few hundred feet of its threshold. In all there were twelve accommodation sites, supplemented by two sewerage sites, giving a total of fourteen in all. These accommodation areas included: two communal sites, officers’ quarters, enlisted men’s quarters, sick quarters, and a large WAAF area with its own sewerage facilities.

The all important technical area, lay directly across the dividing public road from here; a little further north than the accommodation area and on the western side of the main airfield. It included a wide range of buildings including: MT (motor transport) sheds, operations blocks, briefing rooms, link trainers, stores, flight offices, works offices and the like.

Typical of the range of buildings found on any wartime airfield, they were a mix of both temporary and permanent construction. The manufacturers involved were also typical of those pertaining to wartime airfields: Laing, Romney, SECO, Ministry of Works and Nissen, who used a variety of construction materials including timber, iron, plasterboard, brick and concrete to create these various standard design structures.

On the main airfield itself, No. 1 runway ran north-east to south-west, whilst No. 2 dissected it in a north-west to south-east direction. The third runway, No.3, ran just off north to south. The classic ‘A’ frame was created by the crossing of all three in the centre of the airfield with the runways extending extensively beyond this point. As in all cases, the three runways were linked by a circular perimeter track, around which eventually, some fifty-five hardstands were built; both a mix of ‘spectacle’ and ‘frying-pan’ types.

As with all airfields of its kind, a bomb store would be incorporated well away from the accommodation and technical areas, and in Chelveston’s case this was just off to the north-east. Here, a number of hardened shelters were interlinked by small tracks along which the bombs were transported to the various aircraft dispersals.

Bombs being man-handled at Chelveston. (IWM FRE10440).

Overseeing movements in and out of the airfield was the watch office, which stood proud with clear views across the airfield. Located to the western side of the site, the office was built to drawing 518/40 – the largest and most common wartime design. This particular build evolved from the 1939 drawing, number 5845/39, and incorporated the meteorological office within its layout. By combining both functions into a single structure, it enabled the rapid exchange of vital weather information.

Chelveston’s construction began in 1940 on land straddling the Bedfordshire-Northamptonshire border. A basic airfield to start with, it soon began to develop and grow, all part of Britain’s rapid wartime airfield expansion programme. Over the next few months it would grow and develop into a standard three-runway bomber airfield complete with dispersals, technical buildings, bomb stores and extensive accommodation sites. Though the landscape has since been transformed into the modern Chelveston Renewable Energy Park, the wartime layout still hints at the scale and ambition of the original station.

The story of how this quiet stretch of countryside evolved from construction site to operational wartime airfield begins in Part 2, as RAF Chelveston opens its runways and the station starts its journey toward becoming an important Allied base.

The whole story of Chelveston can be read in Trail 66. Northants and Bedfordshire (Part 2)

New Years Eve 1943 – The death of 2nd Lt. John W. Crago (RAF Kings Cliffe)

In 2021, I was contacted by Mike Herring and Trevor Danks, regarding the story of 2nd Lt. John Crago who was based at RAF Kings Cliffe in Northamptonshire during World War 2.

It was sad tale of how one young man died in a tragic accident not long after arriving in the UK from the United States. Mike and Trevor kindly allowed me to reproduce the entire text with photos to share with you, my sincere thanks go to them both.

This is the story of 2nd Lt. John Walter Crago who tragically lost his life in an aircraft crash on 31st December 1943 whilst operating from Kings Cliffe airfield.

Firstly, however, let us look at his origins.

His grandparents were Harry and Bessie Crago who were born and lived in Cornwall on the SW tip of England. Harry was born in Liskeard in November 1858 and Bessie in Duloe in May 1862.

The surname “Crago” is quite common in that area. Cornwall had been a major source of tin and lead for many years and there were extensive mine works around the county.

After leaving school Harry worked in the mines from about the age of 12.

In 1878 Harry and Bessie, still unmarried, moved to the coal mining village of Wingate, near Durham, in the North East of England, where Harry worked as a coal miner.

In the early part of 1879 Harry and Bessie married at Wingate and by 1881 they were living at 13, Emily Street, Wheatley Hill, Wingate and had a one year old son with them – William.

As an aside the village of Wingate is well known to some people in Kings Cliffe. It was the home of the writer’s wife’s parents until their recent death and  brothers and sisters still live there.

The coincidence increases as it is also the place where friends, Rodger Barker, living in Kings Cliffe, and Jim Vinales, managed to crash a Vulcan bomber in 1971, that had lost two engines. The crew fortunately survived. (see chapter one of “Vulcan 607” Corgi books).

In 1882 Harry and Bessie emigrated to the USA, by now having two children , and it is no co-incidence that they settled in Pennsylvania which was a significant coal mining area, Harry working there as a miner.

Their third child, Walter P Crago, was born at Houtzvale, P.A. on 16th August 1893. He is the father of the subject of this story.

In the US Census of 1910 16 year old Walter is shown as having no occupation, although his father and elder brother are working as miners.

In the 1920 US Census, Walter is married to Margaret K Crago and they have a one year old son, John Walter, born 5th April 1917 who is the subject of our story. His father’s marriage to Margaret does not seem to have lasted as by 1930 Walter has married Lorena C Crago (nee’ Curtis).

John Walter Crago is brought up in Philipsburg, PA, a small town of about 3000 people (twice as big as Kings Cliffe) which is situated about 200 miles due west of New York.

Philisburg main street via Mike Herring

A view of modern Philipsburg main street.

Our next glimpse of John W is in his High school Year book in 1934 when he was 17 years old.

John Walter Crago via Mike Herring

Johnnie did one year in high school and was clearly keen on his sport as well as the local girls!

Six year later in the US Census of 1940 John’s father, Walter, is by then the part owner and bar tender of a restaurant/tap room in Philipsburg and John W is working for him.

In Europe WW2 is in full flow and clearly the US is preparing for its possible involvement as John is signed on in the draft on 16th October 1940.

He is described on his draft form as 5’-8 ½” (1.74m) tall, weighing 135 pounds (61kg) with hazel eyes, light completion and brown hair.

draft via Mike Herring

John’s Draft paper.

draft 2 via Mike Herring

John trained to be an Army Air force pilot and joined the 55th fighter squadron, part of the 20th fighter group.

They arrived at Clyde in Scotland in August 1943, then travelled to their new base at Kings Cliffe in Northamptonshire, England. The 20th fighter group consisted of three squadrons of about 14 planes each – 55th, 77th and 79th.

The group was the first to fly the new P-38 Lightning escort, fighter ground attack air craft in combat in Europe.

P-38 via Mike Herring

P-38 Lightning

There was insufficient room at Kings Cliffe for all of three squadrons and therefore 55 Fighter Squadron , of which John Crago was a member, were based at RAF Wittering, just two miles North of Kings Cliffe.

The P-38 Lightning had a somewhat chequered history in its’ early days. It had several recognised problems, but because of the needs in Europe for a powerful, high flying escort aircraft, the early ones were shipped out without those problems being resolved. They suffered from many engine failures, and instability in certain circumstances.

Of significance to our story is part of the Wikipedia article on the development of the P-38 which reads –

“Another issue of the P-38 arose from its unique design feature of outwardly rotating, counter rotating propellers. Losing one of the two engines in any two engine non centre line thrust aircraft on take-off creates sudden drag, yawing the nose towards the dead engine and rolling the wing tip down on the side of the dead engine. Normal training in flying twin engine aircraft when losing one engine on take-off is to push the remaining engine to full throttle to maintain airspeed. If the pilot did this on a P-38, regardless of which engine had failed, the resulting engine torque produces an uncontrollable yawing roll and the aircraft would flip over and hit the ground.”

Crago with P-38 via Mike Herring

John Crago with his P- 38J Lightning – 1943

 

Crago at Kings Cliffe 1943 via Mike Herring

John W Crago in 1943 at Kings Cliffe

The first mission for 55 squadron was on 28th  December 1943 consisting of a sweep across the Dutch coast without encountering enemy aircraft. The mission summary report for that day reads –

28th December 1943

  1. 55th Fighter Squadron, 20th Fighter Group, Captain McAuley leading.
  2. 12 up at 1308 Down Wittering 1510
  3. Nil
  4. O 4 SWEEP
  5. To N. Nil
  6. Altitude over English coast mid-channel R/T jammed and remained so until mid-channel return trip. Landfall in, Wooderhoodf, at 1402. Altitude 20,000 feet. Light to moderate flak accurate for altitude over Flushing. Left turn and proceeded from Walchern to Noordwal 18 to 20,000 feet.
  7. Landfall out 1416 Noordwal. Weather clear all the way.

The second mission on the 30th December was more serious, escorting B-17 and B-24 bombers on an attack on a chemical plant near Ludwigshafen. The mission report for that day reads –

30th December 1943

  1. 55th Fighter Squadron, 20th Fighter Group
  2. 14 up 1121 at Kings Cliffe. Down 1500 Wittering.
  3. 3 aborts. Captain Jackson, Lt. Col. Jenkins – Radio. Lt. Sarros, gas siphoning.
  4. Bomber escort. Field order No. 210
  5. Nil
  6. Nil
  7. Nil
  8. Nil
  9. Landfall Ostend 24,000 feet at 1212. Climbed to 25,000 feet Brussels circled area 15 minutes. Proceeded to R/v with bombers. St. Menechoulde 25,000 feet at 1312. Reims 2 Me 109’s seen diving through bomber formation. Squadron left Bombers Compegiegne 1346. Encountered light flak Boulogne. Landfall out 1407, 24,000 feet. Clouds 6/10 over channel. 10/10 just inland. R/t ok.

The third mission was scheduled for 31st December and involved escorting bombers on an attack on a ball bearing factory at Bordeaux. John Crago was one of the 14 pilots of 55 squadron scheduled to be on this trip. He was temporarily based at RAF Wittering whilst suitable accommodation was built at Kings Cliffe and was flying from Wittering to Kings Cliffe to be briefed on the mission with the other pilots of 55, 77 and 79 Squadron who made up 20 Group. On arriving at Kings Cliffe he reported problems with his landing gear and did a low level fly past the control tower so that they could observe any obvious problem. As he approached the tower smoke was seen coming from his left hand engine.

He would have been flying slowly, close to stall speed, so that the tower had more time to observe any problem. Bearing in mind the reported problem with the P-38 flying on one engine the plane probably became uncontrollable. He clearly achieved some height as his eventual crash site was about two miles away at the village of Woodnewton. He did not survive the crash.

map via Mike Herring

 

location of crash via Mike Herring

Map of Woodnewton – crash site marked in red.

Lt. Crago's crash site

Lt. Crago’s crash site. (Photo courtesy Trevor Dank)

Lt. Crago's crash site

Lt. Crago’s crash site. (Photo courtesy Trevor Dank)

John Crago is buried at the Cambridge American Cemetery; plot A/5/22.

Commemoration Plaque

Plaque to commemorate Lt. Crago. (Photo courtesy Trevor Dank)

His was one of the bodies of American servicemen whose next of kin decided not to repatriate.  One could conjecture that he was left to rest in the land where many generations of his forefathers had lived.

Grave via Mike Herring

 

Kings Cliffe old blokes via Mike Herring

‘Kings Cliffe Old Blokes Club’ at the grave of John Crago.

Mike Herring
Kings Cliffe Heritage

Sources:

Vulcan 607 by Rowland White, Corgi Books.
US Census 1900, 1910, 1920, 1930, and 1940.
UK Census 1861, 1871,and 1881
Ancestry.com
Ancestry.co.uk
The American Air Museum – Duxford  www.iwm.org.uk/duxford
2nd Air Division Memorial Library – Norwich www.2ndair.org.uk

Report from Woodnewton Heritage Group

New Year’s Eve this year marks the 75th anniversary of a tragic accident in Woodnewton which resulted in the death of an American pilot and brought the realities of the Second World War closer to the inhabitants of our village.

JOHN WALTER CRAGO

John Walter Crago held the rank of 2nd Lieutenant in the US Army Air Force. He died instantly in an accident on 31st December 1943 when his aircraft crash landed in Woodnewton, in the field known as Stepping End just beyond Conegar Farm.

Lieutenant Crago was born on 5th April 1917 in Phillipsburgh, Pennsylvania, the son of Walter P Crago and Margaret K Jones. He had enlisted in March 1942 and was a member of the 55th Fighter Squadron of the 20th Fighter Group.  This Group was under the command of the 67th Fighter Wing of the Vlll Fighter Command of the USAAF. When he died he was 26 years old.

The circumstances leading to the accident on 31st December are recorded here in general terms only as told by former and existing residents of Woodnewton and supported by information from the Internet. It is not meant to be definitive.

The USAAF was assigned RAF Kings Cliffe in early 1943 and it was re-designated as Station 367. It was the most northerly and westerly of all US Army Air Force fighter stations. At that time RAF Kings Cliffe was a very primitive base, lacking accommodation and other basic facilities, so the Americans undertook an extensive building programme at the base during 1943. The 20th Fighter Group arrived on 26th August 1943 from its training base in California having crossed the USA by railway and then the Atlantic aboard HMS Queen Elizabeth on a five-day unescorted trip. The Group comprised three Fighter Squadrons; two of those Squadrons were based at Station 367 whilst the third, the 55th Fighter Squadron (Lieutenant Crago’s), was based at RAF Wittering whilst additional accommodation was being built at Kings Cliffe. The Group did not come back together at Station 367 until April 1944. Up to December 1943 the Group flew Republic P-47 Thunderbolt planes. With the arrival of their new Lockheed P-38 Lightening planes in late December 1943 the 20th Fighter Group entered fully into operational combat and was engaged in providing escort and fighter support to heavy and medium bombers to targets on the continent.

In the early morning of 31st December 1943 Lieutenant Crago was to fly from RAF Wittering to Station 367 to be briefed on his first combat mission – to provide escort protection on a bombing mission to attack an aircraft assembly factory at Bordeaux and an airfield at La Rochelle. This was to be just the 3rd mission by the fully-operational Group flying P-38’s. The planes of the 55th Squadron took off from RAF Wittering three abreast but unfortunately the right wing-tip of Lieutenant Crago’s plane struck the top of a search light tower on take-off.  Lieutenant Crago must have lost some control of the aircraft but not it would appear the total control of the plane. He flew it from Wittering and was trying to get to Station 367. Unfortunately, he only got as far as Woodnewton.

The plane approached the village from the north-east, flying very low over Back Lane (Orchard Lane) and St Mary’s Church but crash landed in the field known as Stepping End just beyond Conegar Farm. Eyewitnesses said that the pilot discharged his guns to warn people on the ground that he had lost control of the plane and was about to crash. Wreckage from the plane was still visible in Stepping End in the 1950’s and a “drop tank” (for additional fuel) could also be seen in the hedge between King’s Ground and Checkers. A brief reconnoitre in November 2018 however found no recognisable evidence of the plane in the hedgerows around the fields.

Stepping End is the first open field – no hedges or fencing – on the right-hand side of the track from Woodnewton to Southwick. From Mill Lane, cross the bridge over the Willowbrook, and continue until the land begins to rise at the start of the hill. King’s Ground and Checkers are the next two fields on the right along the same track.

It is understood that 2nd Lieutenant Crago, whilst no doubt a qualified and proficient pilot, had had only 7 hours flying experience in the Group’s new P-38 Lightning at the time of the accident.

A memorial plaque to Lieutenant Crago was put up in St Mary’s Church to commemorate his death. The wording on this memorial faded over time however, and the plaque was replaced in 2001, although the wording on the two plaques is the same.

2nd Lieutenant John Crago is buried and commemorated at the Cambridge American Cemetery and Memorial (Plot A Row 5 Grave 22). His photograph can be seen at “www/20thfightergroup.com/kiakita”.

My sincere thanks go to Mike and Trevor for sending the text and pictures and for allowing me to share the sad story of Lt. John Walter Crago. 

Sgt. Archibald Mathies, USAAF, 510th BS, 351st BG (Medal Of Honour)

Staff Sgt. Archibald Mathies (U.S. Air Force file photo)*1

Born in the Scottish town of Stonehouse, South Lanarkshire, on the 3rd June 1918, Archibald (Archie) Mathies was to become a Second World War hero. He was awarded the Medal of Honour (MOH) for his actions whilst at RAF Polebrook (USAAF Station 110) in Northamptonshire, England.

It would be on the 20th February 1944, shortly after arriving at Polebrook, that he would earn this honour but his life would be dramatically cut short.

Not long after his birth in Scotland, Mathies moved with his family to the United States, to a small town in Western Pennsylvania called Finleyville, in Washington County.

After leaving school, he began work in a local coal mine. The work was hard, and the pay was low; Mathies was not inspired. Then, following the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbour, as many other brave young American men did, he joined the Army, enlisting in Pittsburgh on the 30th December 1940. Mathies would transition through a number of stations and training centres before finally completing a course in aerial gunnery on the 22nd March 1943. His last U.S. posting was to the 796th Bombardment Squadron at Alexandria, Louisiana for operational training duties flying B-17s. He would leave here on the 8th December 1943 bound for England and the European Theatre of Operations.

Mathies arrived in the U.K. eight days later. His initial assignment was with the Eighth Air Force Replacement Depot, before being attached to the 1st Replacement and Training Squadron. On the 19th January 1944, he received his first and only operational squadron posting; the 510th Bomb Squadron, 351st Bomb Group, based at RAF Polebrook, as an engineer/gunner. Promotion was swift, and on 17th February 1944, probably following his first mission, Mathies was awarded the rank of Staff Sergeant.

A few days later, on 20th February 1944, the allies began the enormous aerial campaign known as ‘Big Week’. During this short period a massive number of aircraft would attack targets deep in the heart of Nazi Germany. One of the first, (Mission 226) would see a total of 417 aircraft fly from airfields across England. From RAF Polebrook, 39 B-17s took off to attack Leipzig. In the lead planes were Maj. Leonard B. Roper (s/n O-734101 ) of the 510th BS forming the high group, and Maj. James T. Stewart (s/n O-659405) of the 508th BS, leading the low group.

Flying in the number three ship of the lower Squadron, in B-17 (42-31763) ‘Ten Horsepower‘ was: Pilot: Clarry Nelson, Co-Pilot: Roland Bartley, Navigator: Walter Truemper, Engineer / Top Turret Gunner: Archie Mathies, Bombardier: Joe Martin, Radio Operator: Joe Rex, Ball Turret Gunner: Carl Moore, Waist Gunner: Tom Sowell, Waist Gunner: Russ Robinson, and Tail Gunner: Magnus Hagbo.

mathies page

B-17 “Ten Horsepower” – cropped from the photo below- (TU-A, serial number 42-31763) taken prior to its crash”2.

On approaching the target, the formation was hit hard by fighters and flak, who would attack the formation for over an hour, hitting many aircraft in the subsequent melee. Ten Horsepower, was targeted repeatedly receiving many hits from 20mm cannon shells. In these attacks the co-pilot was killed and the pilot knocked unconscious from his wounds. Fearing the bomber was doomed, the bombardier jettisoned the bombs and then bailed out, later being captured by the Germans and becoming a prisoner of war. The remaining crew remained with the B-17 which soon began a deathly spiral toward the ground.

Mathies and the navigator (Walter Truemper) would eventually take over control of the aircraft and nurse it back to England. Once over their base at RAF Polebrook, the crew were instructed to bail out but both Mathies and Truemper refused to leave the injured pilot. After deliberation, they were given permission to try to land, the remaining two crew members prepared themselves for a heavy landing.

Guided in by a fellow aviator it was going to be very difficult. The first two attempts had to be aborted, but on the third attempt, as they approached the airfield, the aircraft struck the ground, killing all three crew members onboard.

The last moments of B-17G “Ten Horsepower” (TU-A, #42-21763) piloted by Second Lieutenant Walter E Truemper  and Sergeant Archibald Mathies, as it is guided by a fellow aircraft after the pilot was severely injured. Truemper and Mathies unsuccessfully attempted to land the aircraft at Polebrook and were posthumously awarded the Medal of Honour for their bravery, 20th February 1944. (IWM FRE 4724)

The crash was a severe blow for the base, both air and ground crews were devastated. On returning from the mission, five other aircraft (42-38028, 42-38005, 42-39760, 42-39853 and 42-6151). were forced to land at nearby Glatton (Conington) only a short distance away.

This was only Mathies’ second mission and sadly, his last.

For his bravery, Mathies was awarded the Medal of Honour; his name now appears on page 280 of the St. Paul’s Cathedral Roll of Honour. Also, as a dedication to him, one of the temporary lodging units at the Joint Base Anacostia-Bolling is named after him, as is the Airman Leadership School at RAF Feltwell,  and the Non commissioned Officer Academy at Keesler AFB, Mississippi. In addition, the bridge on Truemper Drive crossing Military Highway at Lackland Air Force Base, Texas; the USCIS Dallas District Office and the Mathies Coal Company in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, are all named in his honour.

Archibald Mathies  citation reads:

For conspicuous gallantry and intrepidity at risk of life above and beyond the call of duty in action against the enemy in connection with a bombing mission over enemy-occupied Europe on 20 February 1944. The aircraft on which Sgt. Mathies was serving as engineer and ball turret gunner was attacked by a squadron of enemy fighters with the result that the copilot was killed outright, the pilot wounded and rendered unconscious, the radio operator wounded and the plane severely damaged. Nevertheless, Sgt. Mathies and other members of the crew managed to right the plane and fly it back to their home station, where they contacted the control tower and reported the situation. Sgt. Mathies and the navigator volunteered to attempt to land the plane. Other members of the crew were ordered to jump, leaving Sgt. Mathies and the navigator aboard. After observing the distressed aircraft from another plane, Sgt. Mathies’ commanding officer decided the damaged plane could not be landed by the inexperienced crew and ordered them to abandon it and parachute to safety. Demonstrating unsurpassed courage and heroism, Sgt. Mathies and the navigator replied that the pilot was still alive but could not be moved and they would not desert him. They were then told to attempt a landing. After two unsuccessful efforts, the plane crashed into an open field in a third attempt to land. Sgt. Mathies, the navigator, and the wounded pilot were killed“.*3

Mathies was truly a brave and dedicated man, who in the face of adversity, refused to leave his wounded pilot and friend. Daring to land a badly damaged aircraft, he sadly lost his life showing both great courage and determination.

The crew of ‘Ten Horsepower‘ were:

Pilot: Clarry Nelson,
Co-Pilot: Roland Bartley,
Navigator: Walter Truemper
Engineer / Top Turret Gunner: Archie Mathies
Bombardier: Joe Martin (POW)
Radio Operator: Joe Rex,
Ball Turret Gunner: Carl Moore,
Waist Gunner: Tom Sowell,
Waist Gunner: Russ Robinson,
Tail Gunner: Magnus Hagbo

Notes:

*1 Photo from Malmstrom Air Force Base website.

*2 Photo IWM Freeman Collection FRE 4725

*3 Citation taken from: US Army Centre for Military History website.