RAF

Spitfires Galore! – RAF Ludham (Part 2)

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In Part 1 we saw how Ludham began its life and how things got off to a slow but steady start, the period April to August 1942 being  pretty much along similar lines, routine patrols, shipping reconnaissances and scrambles. But the autumn signifies the beginning of many changes here at this Norfolk airfield. First however, the resident Spitfire squadron, 610 Sqn, would take part in one of the Second World War’s more famous failures.

Ludham airfield

One of several buildings located around the perimeter of the airfield.

On August 16th, a need arose for fighters to bolster 11 Group for ‘Operation Jubilee‘ –  the raid on Dieppe by allied forces, primarily Canadian. The raid was supposed to achieve a number of objectives, but only one was successful, the main force being held on the beach where vehicles became bogged down in the shingle. 610 Sqn formed part of the aerial umbrella, along with 411 Sqn and 485 Sqn who all jointly formed the 12 Group wing flying from a temporary base at RAF West Malling. On the previous night to the raid, the 19th, ground crews were busy at West Malling fitting long range drop tanks to the Spitfires which according to the ORB, “proved their worth on this occasion“. During the air battle, which raged between the Spitfires, Typhoons and around fifty Me 109s and FW 190s, 610 Sqn claimed two 109s along with one FW 190 as destroyed and two FW 190s as damaged.  Three of 610 Sqn’s aircraft went down, one of the pilots Flt. Sgt. Creagh, being picked up from the sea. Interestingly enough, during this skirmish, pilots noted seeing FW 190s in Italian markings! By 09:30 hrs the squadron had returned to West Malling.

The flight then returned to the skies over Dieppe three further times that day, taking off at 11:20 hrs and then again at 14:00 hrs, each time to cover the withdrawal of shipping. The last evening sortie took off at 17:35 hrs. On the 20th, 610 Sqn flew out to France once again, this time though it was to escort  US bombers returning from the continent, perhaps seeing the carnage left by the disastrous raid the day before.

By the 21st it was all over, and the sixteen aircraft returned to Ludham where they would receive a message of thanks from the AOC 11 Group – Leigh Mallory.

As the squadron were returning to Ludham, so too came a new delivery, the squadron’s first batch of Spitfire Mk.VCs, with three arriving on the 21st and one further aircraft arriving on the 22nd. These were gradually absorbed into flying duties as the squadron returned to normal patrols and escort duties from Ludham. 610’s tally for the month stood at 123 enemy aircraft destroyed and 41.5 probables.

Over September, flights were pretty much routine once more, then October arrived and Ludham became frantic again. On the 8th, a road party was sent as advanced party to Biggin Hill with a view to taking part in a “Hush-Hush” operation. Unfortunately the operation was cancelled just prior to the party’s arrival, and they had to return to Ludham somewhat disappointed; road and rail transport being provided for the next morning.

That day also saw 610 Sqn Spitfires provide withdrawal cover for “over 100 Fortresses”, which at the time was a “headline” mission, this being the largest daylight raid of the war so far. The incredible sight of this massed formation would be dwarfed in comparison by the wars end with formations consisting of 1,000 aircraft or more, in a stream that lasted for what must have seemed forever.  Whilst enemy aircraft were seen in this first momentous occasion, there were no claims of ‘kills’ or ‘probables’ made by pilots of Ludham’s 610 Sqn.

By now, rumours of another move were circulating widely, hopes for a move south nearer to the action were dashed, when signal O2OB, dated 11.10.42, came through instructing the squadron to move to Castletown, near Caithness in Scotland – the opposite end of the country to where they wanted to be.

The move was to take place on the 14th October, and would be a direct swap with 167 (Gold Coast) Sqn, yet another Spitfire VC squadron. The airlift of 167 Sqn was late in arriving, meaning that many men were left ‘Kicking their heels” at Ludham, so a number headed to Norwich and a little light entertainment at the cinema. The transfer then happened on the next day, the 15th, with many of the pilots suffering sickness on the way up, thought to be due to the poor weather. Now 610’s link to this small Norfolk airfield was broken, and a new link in Ludham’s chain of history would be forged – a new squadron had arrived.

167 Sqn stayed at Ludham for five months, after which they took part in exercise ‘Spartan‘, a twelve day posting first at Kidlington and then Fowlmere, before returning to Ludham on March 13th, 1943. Exercise Spartan was a prelude to D-day, a huge military exercise that took place in southern England as a practise for the allied offensive across Europe in June 1944. Like Operation Jubilee, it consisted heavily of Canadian units, and also like Operation Jubilee, there were many shortcomings, the result of which was the loss of Command for three Canadian Generals.

A further short two month stay at Ludham then saw 167 Sqn depart in May for good. This left the Norfolk airfield to the only Typhoon squadron to use the base – 195 Sqn.

Formed in November 1942, 195 Sqn had formed at Duxford, transferring to Hutton Cranswick where they were assigned their Typhoons. A further move to Woodvale then brought them to Ludham where they would stay until 31st July 1943.

Ludham airfield

The second Watch Office also in a very poor state of disrepair.

On arrival at Ludham the squadron was immediately confirmed as operational, and on the 15th May 1943, the very day the operational  notice came through, Sgt. R.A. Hough spotted an Me 109f bombing Southwold. He engaged the enemy shooting him down into the sea, the squadrons first confirmed kill of the war.

With four more Typhoons arriving on the 20th, the squadron was in good spirits and eager to get on. But like their predecessors before them, their month consisted of patrols, practice scrambles and training flights some of which included the squadron’s Hurricane (7778) and Tiger Moth (209). By the end of the month, the Ludham unit had made 362 flights, most as patrols or as training flights. June was similar, the lack of contact frustrating the pilots; a note in the ORB saying “Patrols carried out dawn to dusk, 12 operational sorties being flown, but the Hun wouldn’t play“. The highlight of the day was perhaps the darts match against the local Home Guard, the Home Guard winning that night! As the month progressed, the squadron began to venture further afield taking on trains and oil storage facilities on the continent, scoring many hits and receiving flak damage as a result. On the 8th July the squadron suffered its first Ludham fatality when Flt. Sgt. F. Vause hit the ground in a low flying exercise. A talk by Sqn. Ldr. Taylor reflected the sentiments of the unit when he said they had lost a “Damn good pilot”. He went on to stress the low flying rules.

The end of July came and notification to depart Ludham for Matalsk, and a share of the airfield with 609 Sqn. There was some regret withe the more ‘romantic’ types of the squadron and due honours were paid to Ludham on that last night of the 30th July.

The last Spitfire squadron before Ludham left RAF control was 611 Sqn, with their Spitfire LF VBs. This was a short stay lasting only until August 4th, when they were told to move to Coltishall as Ludham was being closed down in preparation for transference to the USAAF. After one sortie at Ludham the move went ahead on the 4th, but it was not overly welcomed as Coltishall was already busy and accommodation was cramped.

With that, Ludham was closed, and the airfield was taken over by the Air Ministry (Works) whereupon construction work began on three new concrete and tarmac runways, a project that would take a year to complete. During this time new hardstands were installed – a mix of (17) double and (18) single types using pierced steel, some of these were located outside of the perimeter, and a small maintenance unit took care of the running of the airfield. A new two storey watch office was built with the original being re-purposed.

Designated Station 177, Ludham was never actually occupied by the Americans though, even though all the upgrade work had been completed, it remained firmly deserted apart from a small maintenance unit who oversaw its use.

Instead, it was decided to use Ludham as a dummy airfield and emergency landing ground for returning aircraft. A decision that was partly made for them as heavy bombers returning from daylight missions over occupied Europe would often come in over this part of East Anglia, and Ludham was the first airfield they would come across. Because of this, Ludham would see some eight B-17s, a B-24, one P-47, and a P-38 aircraft have to either crash or make emergency landings at Ludham or in the immediate vicinity.

The first to make use of the airfield in this way occurred on October 8th, 1943 barely a month into the airfield’s upgrading. A B-17F #42-3393  “Just-A-Snappin” was badly damaged over Bremen. The aircraft, piloted by Capt. Everett Blakely, made it back to England crossing the Norfolk coast east of Ludham. The aircraft had sustained severe damage from flak, the Number 4 engine, the hydraulics and the brakes all being put out of action. The aircraft made an emergency landing at Ludham crashing into a large tree causing further damage to the air frame. It was salvaged a few days later. This particular aircraft had only been assigned to the 418th BS at Thorpe Abbots, part of the Bloody Hundredth, in the July. It also went under the name of  “Blakely’s Provisional Group” and ”Did You Say Ten Cents?“, the multitude of names causing confusion in a number of references.

Part of a door cover from P-38 Lightning named

Part of door cover retrieved from wreckage of P-38H5LO #42-67053 ‘CY-L’, flown by Lt. Goudelock on December 13th 1943. The aircraft crashed in Ludham after flying for 375 miles on one engine (IWM FRE 158)

A second aircraft would attempt to use Ludham as a safe haven not long after this. On the 13th December, 1943 P-38H #42-67503 of the 55th FG, 343rd FS, “Vivacious Vera” piloted by First Lt. Hugh J. Goudelock, sustained damage to one engine whilst escorting bombers also over Bremen. After nursing the aircraft back to Britain he attempted a landing at Ludham when, suddenly, the second engine gave out. This left the P-38 powerless, causing it to crash in Ludham, the pilot sustaining only minor injuries. The strength of the P-38 having brought the pilot back for 375 miles on a single engine,

A similar story was repeated on December 23rd when B-17F #42-3273 “Impatient Virgin” crashed at Potter Heigham, another village only a stones throw from the airfield, while attempting to land at Ludham following damage it received over Munster. A sudden loss of power meant the aircraft had to put down in a field rather than on the airfield, all ten crewmen luckily returned to duty and the aircraft was salvaged.

B-17F “Impatient Virgin” #42-3273 of the 95th Bomb after crashing at Potter Heigham near to Ludham airfield. (IWM FRE 3903)

December had certainly been a busy month for Ludham, even though officially it was closed to flying, it had more than proved its worth as an emergency landing ground.

The work continued at Ludham and eventually, in August 1944, it was complete. By then though the US forces had decided against using Ludham and it was handed over to the Royal Navy (RN).

In the concluding part we saw how the Royal Navy fared at Ludham and how eventually Spitfire squadrons return. The V2 becomes a menace to be dealt with and then the war comes to a close and Ludham’s future is decided.

The full story of RAF Ludham appears in Trail 58.

A Dogfight That Ended At The Movies.

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Another guest post by Mitch Peeke.

Toward the end of the Battle of Britain, Reichsmarschall Herman Goring chose to blame his hitherto beloved fighter pilots for the devastating losses the German bomber squadrons had suffered that summer. He decided that if the fighters couldn’t protect the bombers, then the fighters could carry the bombs to London themselves! On his direct orders, about one third of the Luftwaffe’s fighter force was swiftly converted to carry a single bomb slung under the belly of their Me109’s. Flying at high altitude, these Jagd-Bomber aircraft, or Jabos as they were now called, were then to be heavily escorted by the regular fighters, in an attempt to draw the RAF’s fighters into battle, where they could be annihilated by the superior German numbers. It didn’t matter to the Germans where the bombs fell as the hapless Jabos were simply the bait.

On the morning of Sunday, October 20th 1940, the high-flying Jabos were making daylight attacks on south-east England and London again. They came over in five waves, heavily escorted as per Goring’s orders, from about 09:30 till approximately 14:00. Part of the fighter escort for one of the later raids was provided by 6/JG52, based at Peuplingues, in France and one of the escort pilots from this unit was Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann.

The inbound raiders and their escorts had already been fighting their way across Kent when they reached Central London at around 13:35. Having dropped their burdensome bombs, the Jabo pilots could now accelerate to fighting speed and engage the defending RAF fighters on equal terms, though ever with a cautious eye on the fuel gauge.

One of the RAF squadrons sent to deal with these raiders that day was 41 Squadron, up from Hornchurch in Essex. High over the City of London area, 41 Squadron’s Flying Officer Peter Brown in his Spitfire, was in combat with a yellow-nosed Messerschmitt 109, that flown by Friedemann.  During the combat, Brown succeeded in gaining the advantage over his opponent and scored several decisive hits on the nose of Friedemann’s Messerschmitt, which started to belch brownish-black smoke from its now mortally wounded Daimler-Benz engine.

Flying Officer Peter Brown in combat with Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann over London on Sunday 20th October 1940.

Flying Officer Peter Brown in combat with Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann over London on Sunday 20th October 1940 (Painting by Geoff Nutkins of Shoreham aircraft Museum, by kind permission).

The crippled Messerschmitt began to lose speed and height as it flew over Tower Bridge, crossing the Thames in a roughly East-south-easterly direction, towards Shooters Hill. Brown flew his Spitfire alongside his vanquished foe as the German pilot jettisoned his cockpit canopy and raised himself out of the seat. Having no choice in the matter, Friedemann baled out of his doomed fighter over the Plumstead/Welling area of South London and as it transpired, his exit was not a moment too soon. Seconds after Friedemann had jumped, the Messerschmitt’s fuel tank exploded in mid-air. The time was almost exactly 13:45.

On the ground at Welling, was fifteen year-old Ennis Mowe. Though still at school, Ennis was the sort of girl who hated the fact that she was considered too young to take any active part in the war effort. She badly wanted to “do something” and even though it was she who had done the Lion’s share of the work involved in constructing the family’s Anderson shelter, it simply wasn’t enough for her to be content with; an attitude that had lead to several arguments with her father recently.

Not feeling inclined to enjoy the dubious comforts of the public air-raid shelter in Bellegrove Road that Sunday, Ennis was making her way home, on foot, half-watching the vapour trails of yet another aerial battle that was obviously taking place at altitude over London again. Suddenly, she heard a loud “boom” high above her. Stopping, she quickly looked up in time to see a fireball and a fighter aircraft breaking apart as another fighter turned rapidly away. The tail section of the stricken aeroplane disintegrated, but the front section was coming straight down, dropping like a stone.

A good many people on the ground, including young Ennis, also saw something else falling away from the doomed aircraft, flailing and tumbling through the air as it came down. It was Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann, who was now condemned to realise a horrible end to his young life, by the fact that his parachute had failed to open.

The Messerschmitt’s largely intact front section landed with a very loud thud, upside-down in a front garden in Wickham Street, Welling, just across the road from the gate of Gibson’s Farm. The impact forced the Messerschmitt’s undercarriage to spring partially from the wheel-bays. Albert Friedemann fell to his terrifying death a short distance away across the farm, whilst pieces of his Messerschmitt’s tail section fluttered down over a wide area.

The wreck of Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann’s Messerschmitt 109 where it fell, opposite Gibson’s Farm in Wickham Street, Welling, on October 20th 1940. The aircraft exploded in mid-air shortly after Friedemann baled out of it following combat with Flying Officer Peter Brown of 41 Squadron. Friedemann fell to his death when his parachute failed to open. The fence in the background is the perimeter fence to the farmhouse garden of Gibson’s Farm, across the road. Photo: Bexley Local Studies and Archive Centre, by kind permission.

Meanwhile, in Wickham Street, there was already a small crowd around the wreckage; the fallen Messerschmitt having miraculously missed the houses. The hot metal of the fighter’s engine was still ticking as it cooled, but there was no fire. The Messerschmitt’s remaining fuel had been burnt off in the mid-air explosion, some twelve thousand feet ago. People seemed to be looking at the vanquished aircraft with a mixture of curiosity and awe, as if it were something from outer space.

The authorities were soon on the scene and gradually the crowd dwindled as the Police sent the sightseers away. Later, the RAF posted a guard over the wreck to prevent any possible souvenir hunting, for the wreck rapidly became a spectator attraction. The authorities quickly removed Albert Friedemann’s shattered and lifeless body from Gibson’s Farm, but the wreck of his aircraft stayed in Welling for another three weeks. Removed from its crash site, it was put on display outside the local cinema and fifteen year-old Ennis Mowe stood proudly beside it nightly, in all weathers, for just over a fortnight. She was collecting donations from the queue of cinema-goers, in aid of the district Spitfire Fund.

This is the site of Oberfeldwebel Albert Friedemann’s crash as it is today. Wickham Street has been widened since the war, but as near as I can place it, the wreck of Friedemann’s Messerschmitt landed roughly where the van is parked, with the propeller hub facing across the road. The entrance to Gibson’s Farm is just to the left of the picture, out of shot, and about ten feet or so toward the camera from the position of the traffic island. Photo: Mitch Peeke.

At the end of each collection, she gave her collecting tin to the cinema manager, who counted the money she’d collected, paid it into the Post Office on her behalf and posted a notice showing the Post Office receipt for the amount raised. Ennis felt proud that she was at last doing her bit for the war effort, while her father simply shook his head in quiet capitulation. However, this episode proved to be just the beginning of a long, long history of young Ennis “doing her bit”.

Following her successful spell of fundraising beside the wreck of Albert Friedemann’s Messerschmitt outside the cinema; Ennis Mowe, in late 1941, blatantly lied about her age, falsely obtained a driving licence, and joined the London Ambulance Service. She soon became Britain’s youngest-ever Ambulance Driver, a fact not realised till long afterwards, when she confessed to her “crime” at her official retirement! Her father had by then long given up the unequal paternal struggle with his fiercely independent daughter. Ennis eventually married, becoming Ennis Smith, and she carried on “doing her bit” in just about every conflict that has involved British servicemen ever since. Her last such activities were based around the organisation and distribution of Christmas parcels to British troops stationed in Bosnia. Throughout her life, Ennis never once allowed her age to be a deterrent to her determination.

OberFeldwebel Albert Friedemann was 26 at the time of his death. His body was interred at the German Military Cemetery in Cannock Chase, Suffolk; there to rest with many of his comrades. Details of his grave can be found using the ‘Find a Grave’ Website.

Flying Officer Peter Brown, the RAF Spitfire pilot who had shot Friedemann down, finished his RAF career as a Squadron Leader. Like Ennis, he went on to a life of helping others. Peter was also a lifelong friend of The Shoreham Aircraft Museum in Kent. He passed away in 2011 and the museum has posted a fine tribute to him, which can be found using the link below.

http://www.shoreham-aircraft-museum.co.uk/news/2011/02/02/remembering-squadron-leader-peter-brown/

by Mitch Peeke

My sincere thanks go to Mitch for this article.

Spitfires Galore! – RAF Ludham (Part 1)

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In this second part of Trail 58, we leave Rackheath behind and head east towards the coast of East Anglia, and an area known as the ‘Broads’. A few miles across this flat and wetland we come across a small airfield, currently used by crop sprayers and small light aircraft. This private field, almost indistinguishable from the farming land around it, just hints at its past, with two rundown towers, a blister hangar and a small collection of pathways, its history is fast disappearing.

In this the last part of Trail 58 we visit the former RAF Ludham.

RAF Ludham (Station 177, H.M.S. Flycatcher, RNAS Ludham).

Ludham is a small airfield that has been in existence since September 1941, when it opened as a satellite for RAF Coltishall located a few miles to the north-west. It would change hands on more than one occasion over the next few years, being assigned to the RAF, the USAAF and the Royal Navy before returning to RAF ownership once more.

Throughout this time, it would operate as a fighter airfield seeing  range of Spitfire Marks along with a Typhoon Squadron. A number of B-17s would crash here as would a P-38 lightning and several other USAAF aircraft; part of Ludham’s history being that of an emergency landing strip for returning aircraft.

At its inception, Ludham was a grassed airfield, with a hardened perimeter track linking a number of dispersals. Being a fighter airfield the perimeter was only 40 feet wide but of concrete construction, thus it was not designed for the larger, medium or heavy bombers of the allied air forces.

Furthermore, as a satellite, Ludham lacked the design features of a major airfield, and so the accommodation and technical facilities were not up to the same standard of those found on other sites. The accommodation huts were scattered around the north-western side of the airfield, and an initial single storey watch office was also built to the west. A standard wartime design for satellite airfields (design 3156/41), it was a single-roomed structure with a pyrotechnic cupboard and limited views. A switch room was then added to the building (design 1536/42) in early 1942, before the entire building was abandoned and a new twin storey watch office built. As with most airfields of this type, the twin storey building was constructed in conjunction with the addition of the concrete runways. This new office  (design 12779/41) with lower front windows (343/43) would have many benefits over the original not least better views across the airfield site.

Ludham airfield

The much dilapidated original Watch Office.

Another interesting, but not unique feature of Ludham, was a Modified Hunt Range, a structure designed to teach aircraft recognition. The structure, built inside a Laing Hut, saw the trainee sat in front of an enormous mirror. A moving model was then placed behind the student on an elaborate turntable that could not only move in the horizontal plane, but both turn and bank. A selection of lights and a cyclorama added to the realism, with the model reflected in the mirror in front of the student. The combination of all these features provided the students with life-like conditions, thus recreating the same difficulties they were likely to find in combat situations.

For much of its early life, Ludham was used as a satellite of Coltishall, although many of its squadrons were based here from the outset. The primary aircraft seen here was Supermarine’s magnificent Spitfire, the first of which was the MK.VB of 19 Squadron.

19 Sqn had only had this mark of Spitfire since October, previously operating the MK.IIA at RAF Matlask not far from here on the north Norfolk coast. The Mk V was the most produced Spitfire of all 24 marks (and their sub variants) and was armed with a combination of machine gun and canon depending upon which wing configuration was used. The link between the Spitfire, Matlask and Ludham would be a long one, with units moving from one to the other. forging a bond that would last the entire war.

Arriving in the opening days of December 1941, 19 Sqn immediately began carrying out patrols and bomber escort duties over the North Sea, a duty they had been undertaking whilst at Matlask. On several occasions they would fly out to meet incoming Beauforts and their escorts, after they had completed their anti-shipping missions along the Dutch coast. Daily flights would take: Red, Green, Yellow, White, Black or Blue section, each containing two aircraft, over Lowestoft and Great Yarmouth and around the coastal regions of the Norfolk / Suffolk coastline.

However, most of these encounters produced little in the way of contact – even when pilots were directed onto the enemy aircraft. On the 9th, P.O. Halford and Sgt. Turner were vectored onto an intruder, but neither aircraft saw, nor encountered the ‘bandit’, and they returned empty handed. Another two scrambles that same day by ‘Green’ and ‘Black’ sections also proved fruitless, although ‘Black’ section did manage to locate the aircraft which turned out to be a friendly.

Ludham airfield

An original Blister hangar now located on the former runway.

Other duties carried out by 19 Sqn included shipping reconnaissance flights, shadowing and monitoring shipping movements across the North Sea, particularly along the Dutch coast. Taking off at 11:20 on December 18th, F.O. Edwards and P.O. Brooker flew at zero feet across the Sea to Scheveningen where they spotted a convoy of 11 ships. One of these was identified as a flak ship protecting the convoy as it left for open waters. The pair then turned north and flew along the coast to Yumiden where they encountered three more ships. No enemy aircraft were encountered and the pair returned to Ludham to file their report.

Then on Christmas Eve, P.O.s Vernon and Hindley in ‘Blue‘ Section were tasked with a ‘Rhubarb‘ mission to attack the aerodrome at Katwyk. On route, they came across a convoy and two Me. 109Es, who were acting as escort / cover for the ships. The two Spitfires engaged the 109s, Blue 1 getting a two second canon and machine gun strike on one of them at 300 yards range. Black smoke was seen coming from the fighter which dived to the sea only to pull up at the last minute and head for home. Blue 2  engaged the other enemy aircraft, but no strikes were seen and the German pilot broke off also setting a course for home. The two Spitfires then engaged the convoy attacking a number of vessels, each pilot recording strikes on the ships, claiming some as ‘damaged’. After the attack they returned home, this leg of the flight being uneventful.

These events set a general pattern for the next four months, and one that would become synonymous with Ludham. Then, on April 4th 1942, 19 Sqn would move to RAF Hutton Cranswick, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, a direct swap with 610 Sqn who had been stationed there since the January.

Also during this time a supporting squadron had also been at Ludham, 1489 (Fighter) Gunnery Flight, (formerly 1489 (Target Towing) Flight) which had moved in to help prepare fighter pilots for air-to-air combat. Around the time that 19 Sqn departed Ludham, 1489 Flt also departed, also going to Hutton Cranswick with 19 Sqn where they were disbanded in 1943.

610 Sqn were another Spitfire squadron also operating the MK.VB at this time. They too got straight back into action carrying out the patrols undertaken by 19 squadron before them. No engagements were recorded until the 8th, when what were thought to be two ‘E’ boats were sighted but not engaged.

The remainder of April was much the same, several convoy escorts, reconnaissance missions along the Dutch coast and scrambles that led to very little. On the 27th two Spitfires did encounter and Ju 88 which they shot down, the crew from the Ju 88 were not seen after the aircraft hit the water. On the next day, ten Spitfires took off between midnight and 01:05 hrs to patrol the Norwich area. Here they saw green parachute flares, and flew to intercept. Sticks of bombs were then seen exploding in the streets of the city, and various pilots engaged with Do 217 bombers. Strikes were recorded on the enemy aircraft, but they were lost in smoke and they could not be confirmed as ‘kills’. Further attacks occurred again on the 29th and again strikes were seen by the RAF pilots on the enemy intruders.

The period April to August was pretty much along similar lines, routine patrols, shipping reconnaissances and scrambles.  Then in mid August, 610 Sqn would take part in one of the Second World War’s more famous failures.

Ludham had a mainly uneventful entry to the war, sporadic scrambles, intermittent contacts and many hours of training, its future looked secure. But, there were many changes ahead and many events that would put it firmly on the map of history.

In Part 2 we see how these changes affect Ludham and its future.

The full story of RAF Ludham appears in Trail 58.

Flt. Lt. William Devaux Woodruff Hilton (RCAF) – Berwickshire.

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In the graveyard at Duns, in Berwickshire, not far from the village and former airfield RAF Charterhall (Trail 41), are two graves of nationals a long way from home.

Both airmen died in service whilst flying from RAF Charterhall, an Operational Training Unit airfield that prepared night fighter crews before posting to relevant night fighter squadrons.

The first grave is that of Flt. Lt. William Devaux Woodruff Hilton (RCAF)  who died on 23rd July 1942.

Flt. Lt. Hilton (Duns Cemetery)

Flt. Lt. William Devaux Woodruff Hilton

Flt. Lt. William Hilton (s/n: C/1626) was born on May 17th 1916, to D’Arcy Hilton (himself an ex pilot of the US Army Flying Corps in the First World War) and Gladys Woodruff, in Chicago, Illinois. He signed up for a flying career joining the RCAF as the United States were not at that time at war and therefore he was unable to train with the US forces.

Flt. Lt. Hilton reached the rank of Pilot Officer on 29th January 1940 after completing further training at RAF Twinwood Farm in Bedfordshire and RAF Acklington in Northumberland. On completion of this training, he was posted to RAF Charterhall and 54 Operational Training Unit (OTU), where he would fly Beaufighters.

The summer of 1942 suffered from poor weather, so poor in fact, that there were many restrictions on flying time, July only having 2,104 hours in total. This bad weather was to be responsible for many flying accidents and deaths that year, of which Flt. Lt. Hilton would be one.

On July 23rd 1942, he was tasked with flying a model new to him, the Bristol Beaufighter, and was taken by an instructor on several circuits to better acquaint himself with the various controls and idiosyncrasies of the aircraft. After several successful landings and take offs, the instructor passed Flt. Lt. Hilton to fly solo, and handed the controls of  Beaufighter #R2440 over to him. His instruction to Hilton was to stay within the circuit of the airfield, sound advice as one of Scotland’s summer storms was rapidly approaching.

Hilton duly carried out the order and took off to perform various solo flight tasks. An experienced pilot, Flt. Lt. Hilton found no problem landing or taking off himself and completed one full circuit before things went wrong.

On the second  circuit of the airfield, Flt. Lt. Hilton somehow got lost, whether through an aircraft malfunction or pilot error, it is not known, but after entering bad weather, the aircraft was instructed to climb to a safe height which it failed to do. Moments later, the Beaufighter was heard circling over the nearby town of Duns before ploughing into low-lying ground, one mile south-east of the town. At the time of the accident the aircraft’s undercarriage was in the down position. The crash killed Flt. Lt. Hilton instantly, the aircraft being torn apart by hedges and the subsequent slide along the ground. A board of enquiry was set up and investigations carried out, but no blame was apportioned to Hilton and the case was closed.

Flt. Lt. Hilton, an experienced pilot, somehow got into trouble, and that combined with the bad weather he was in, resulted in the loss of his life at the young age of just 26. To this day the cause of the crash is not known and Flt. Lt. Hilton remains buried in Scotland not far from the crash site, he is however, many thousand miles from home.

Flt. Lt. Hilton is buried in Duns graveyard in Sec. R. Grave 2.

The second airman’s grave in the graveyard at Duns, is that of Sgt. Thomas Alan Rutherford s/n 406626 (RAAF) who died on 14th August 1942, age just 20.

Sgt. Rutherford (Duns Cemetery)

Sgt. Thomas Rutherford

Sgt. Thomas Rutherford, born to Stamford Roy Rutherford and Laura May Rutherford, of Cottesloe, Western Australia, came from an aviation family, his father Stamford Rutherford RAAF (296635) and older brother Sgt Bernard Rinian Roy Rutherford RAAF (406540), were also serving Air Force members. As with many families who had siblings serving in the forces at this time, Sgt. Rutherford’s brother was also killed in an air accident, earlier that same year.

Sgt. Rutherford was born 3rd August 1922 at Brampton, England but enlisted in Perth Western Australia, on 3rd February 1941.

After completing his training, he also transferred to 54 OTU at RAF Charterhall in the Scottish borders.

August 1942 was, like July before it, a particularly bad month weather wise, which saw only 1,538 hours of flying carried out by 54 OTU. Only a small portion of these, just short of 400, were by night, the remainder being daylight flights. As a night fighter training station, this would be difficult for trainers and trainees alike, but undeterred they flew as many sorties as they could.

On August 14th, Sgt. Thomas Rutherford climbed aboard Blenheim Mk. V #BA192 along with is observer Sgt. James Clifford Kidd (s/n: 1417331). They dutifully carried out their pre-flight checks and lined the aircraft up ready for take off from one of Charterhall’s runways. After lifting off the Blenheim struck a tree causing it to crash. Both Sgt. Rutherford and Sgt. Kidd were killed instantly in the accident.

It is not known what caused the aircraft to strike the tree, whether it be pilot error or aircraft malfunction, but it was an accident that resulted in the loss of two young men far too early in their lives.

Sgt Rutherford is buried at Sec. R. Grave 3 next to Flt. Lt. Hilton.

Further reading.

McMaster University Alumni has further details of Flt/ Lt. Hilton’s life and career.

Commonwealth War Graves Commission website

National Archives of Australia website

Squadron Leader Emile Fayolle: A Free, French Pilot.

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June 1940: Britain’s last remaining European ally, France; was now hors de combat, and the French people began to face the gruelling prospect of an indeterminate period of time in the shadow of the Swastika, under German occupation.

As news of the ignominious armistice and the new collaborationist Vichy government under Marshal Petain spread, there were many brave and defiant French servicemen who refused to acknowledge it. Some went underground, founding the Maquis; the French Resistance movement, whilst quite a number decided to get to England, by any available means, following their chosen leader: Brigadier-General Charles de Gaulle. Once in England, they formed themselves into La France Libre, the Free French Forces, with General de Gaulle as their commanding officer.

One such Frenchman was a nearly 24 year-old, qualified Pilote de Chasse, (fighter pilot) who was then serving overseas in the Armee de l’Air at Oran in French Algeria. He was Sergeant Emile “Francois” Fayolle.

Battle of Britain London Monument - ADJ EFM FAYOLLE

Sgt. Emile “Francois” Fayolle (Photo: © Friends of the Battle of Britain Monument)

Born on 8th September 1916, at Issoire, in Central France, Emile’s father was an Admiral in the French Navy and his Grandfather was none other than Marshal Marie Emile Fayolle, the legendary French Army commander of the First World War. With such ancestry, it was little wonder that Emile refused to acknowledge the humiliating armistice of Compiegne. After much discussion, and despite the warnings of dire consequences from their Station Commander, Emile, his good friend and squadron-mate Francois De Labouchere and two other like-minded pilots, stole two of the station’s aircraft and flew to the British base at Gibraltar. There all four took ship to England, arriving in Liverpool in mid July. Emile Fayolle and his close friend Francois De Labouchere strengthened their already inseparable partnership throughout their RAF training and even made sure they were posted to the same fighter squadron later.

On August 18th 1940, at the height of the Battle of Britain, Emile and Francois were posted to 5 OTU, (Operational Training Unit) at Aston Down. Both men were by now commissioned as Pilot Officers and at 5 OTU, they would be learning to fly and fight with the Hurricane. Pilot Officers Fayolle and De Labouchere would join 85 Squadron, commanded by Squadron Leader Peter Townsend at Church Fenton, on September 13th 1940, flying Hurricanes. They would both soon start making their presence felt with the Luftwaffe.

Emile stayed with 85 Squadron for nearly three months, being posted to 145 Squadron on December 3rd. He stayed with 145 Squadron till April 26th 1941, when he was then posted to Douglas Bader’s 242 Squadron. Although the Battle of Britain was over by then and the German night Blitz on Britain’s major towns and cities had largely petered out, every now and again the Luftwaffe could, and would, still mount a really big raid, such as the one they made on London during the night of May 10th 1941. Exactly one year to the day since they’d started the whole ball rolling by attacking the Low Countries and France, this raid would prove to be pretty much the Luftwaffe’s swansong; their final, despairing fling. Making use of the full moon in a cloudless night sky, the Luftwaffe, in that one night, seemed to drop a month’s worth of bombs and incendiaries on the British Capital. The damage they inflicted was widespread and severe.

It was on this night, during a late evening patrol, that Pilot Officer Emile Fayolle scored his first confirmed ‘kill’. Emile’s victory was one of three that night; all Heinkel 111 bombers and all scored by French pilots. Pilot Officer Demozay of 1 Squadron shot his down over East London, whilst Pilot Officer Scitivaux and Pilot Officer Emile Fayolle, both of whom were serving with 242 Squadron, had their encounters over the London Docks. All three ‘kills’ were confirmed.

On October 14th 1941, Emile was posted to 611 Squadron, flying the Hurri-bomber: a cannon-armed, bomb carrying, fighter-bomber version of the Mk IIc Hurricane. It wasn’t long before he personally took a heavy toll on enemy shipping. Despite being there for only three weeks, Emile seemed to take particularly well to 611 Squadron’s role, becoming something of a specialist in the rather risky art of fast and accurate low-level attacks. He was posted to a very special unit; 340 Squadron, at Turnhouse.

When the RAF formed 340 Squadron, it was the first, all-Free French, squadron. It was formed as part of the Ile de France fighter group and Emile, as well as his great friend Francois de Labouchere, naturally joined the unit. Promotion, as well as confirmed ‘kills’, swiftly followed. As well as the Heinkel 111 he’d shot down on 10th May 1941, he also had confirmed a FW 190 on 3rd May 1942 and a JU88 shot down into the sea on 11th May 1942. His tally of enemy shipping stood at an impressive 25 sunk by then. At the end of July 1942, Emile was further promoted; to the rank of Squadron Leader, and given command of 174 Squadron at Warmwell.

On the Dieppe operation of 19th August 1942, his first one as Commanding Officer, his Hurricane took a hit from defending German anti-aircraft fire after he’d led his squadron of Hurri-bombers fast and low into the attack. His battle-damaged aircraft lost height and crashed in the Channel on the way back to England, not far from Worthing.  Emile was still in the cockpit.

But that is not quite the end of this extraordinary Frenchman’s story. By the strange vagaries of the English Channel’s currents, Emile’s body was eventually washed ashore in his native France. The Germans recovered it and given that he was wearing what remained of the uniform of an RAF Squadron Leader, but with some French insignia, they presumed him to have been a Canadian. Emile’s body had been in the water for some time and was in no real state to be positively identified, so the Germans buried him in a grave marked “Unknown RAF Squadron Leader”.

It wasn’t till 1998, after much laborious research had been done, that Emile finally got a headstone of his own. He is buried at Hautot-sur-Mer (Dieppe Canadian) Cemetery and he is also commemorated on the London Battle of Britain memorial; with all the other gallant countrymen of his who had flown and fought with the RAF in the Battle of Britain. His fighting prowess had earned him a total of four medals, including the DFC and the Croix de Guerre. At the time of his death; the remarkable, Squadron Leader Emile Fayolle, had been just two weeks and six days short of his 26th birthday.

By Mitch Peeke

My thanks to Mitch for this story.

Sgt. William Stannard – 487 Sqn RAF – Miraculous Escape

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There have been many instances of incredible acts of bravery and bizarre cases of survival that would normally seem impossible. Flt. Sgt. Nicholas Alkemade falling from 18,000ft without a parachute is just one of very many.

Another such remarkable event occurred on May 3rd 1943, when twelve Lockheed Venturas attacked a Dutch Power Station near Amsterdam. The ‘Ramrod‘ mission involved twelve Venturas from 487 Squadron from RAF Methwold, an airfield located between Downham Market and Thetford, on the edge of Thetford Forest.

This mission, ‘Ramrod 16‘, turned out to be a total disaster for the Venturas, an aircraft converted from a passenger aircraft  for war. With its fat body and poor handling, the Ventura earned itself the unsavoury name the “Flying Pig”.

On May 3rd, twelve aircraft, all Ventura MK.Is, departed RAF Methwold, heading for Amsterdam as part of a much larger force involving aircraft from both 12 Group (the main force) and 11 Group who were flying a diversionary sweep.

One Ventura from Methwold would turn back shortly after takeoff when the crew hatch broke off, leaving eleven to proceed: AE684 (EG-B); AE713 (T); AE716 (U); AE731 (O); AE780 (S); AE798 (D); AE916 (C); AE956 (H); AJ200 (G); AJ209 (V) and AJ487 (A). On board each of those aircraft were four crewmen including one Squadron Leader Leonard H. Trent V.C.  whose bravery saw the attack through to the bitter end and the awarding of the Victoria Cross for his actions.

The carefully planned attack went horribly wrong though, after aircraft on ‘Rodeo 212′ from 11 Group entered the Vlissingen area thirty minutes ahead of schedule, alerting both the ground and air defences. By the time the Venturas of 487 Sqn arrived, the defenders were well and truly ready.

The crew of  ‘EG-B’ Sgt George Sparkes 2nd from the right – others F/O S. Coshall, F/O R.A. North & Sgt W. Stannard *1

On board another one of the other Venturas AE684, (EG-B) that day,  was Sgt. William Stannard (s/n: 1253660) and crew. As they approached the target area, Sgt. Stannard’s aircraft was attacked by the alerted Luftwaffe fighters, the Ventura being shot down at 17:45 over Bennebroek, a few miles from Haarlem, in Holland. As a result of the attack, the Ventura broke in half, the tail section – in which Sgt. Stannard was located – breaking away from the main fuselage. The main body of the aircraft – now out of control, burning and failing to Earth – would crash killing both the Pilot F.O. Stanley Coshall (s/n: 46911) and Sgt. George Henry Sparkes (s/n: 1392394). The forth crewman, F.O. Rupert A. North, luckily survived the ordeal, bailing out before the aircraft crashed, being captured and taken prisoner. Sgt. North would be reunited for a short while with Sgt. Stannard before being transferred to Stalag Luft Sagan and Belaria.

Sgt. Stannard, still trapped in the tail, remained there until it too hit the ground – its descent slowed by the flying qualities of the tail becoming an impromptu glider. The whole section coming to Earth where it  collided with a tree knocking Sgt. Stannard unconscious. When he came to, Sgt. Stannard was in a Dutch Manor House surrounded by astonished German officials who were waiting to interrogate him before taking him into custody!

Sgt. Stannard, alive and well, was imprisoned at Stalag Kopernikus for the duration of the war. He miraculously survived the fall trapped  inside the rear section of the Ventura which managed to glide to Earth before striking the tree.

Sources.

*1 Photo (Courtesy Pat McGuigan via Paul Garland –  RAF Feltwell – Personnel – memorial pages).

Sgt. North’s story can be read on the RAF Feltwell – Personnel – memorial pages website along with further crew photos.

RAF Methwold appears in Trail 8 and Sqn. Ldr. Leonard Trent’s story appears in Heroic tales.

 An Unknown Airman; No longer

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A Guest Post by Mitch Peeke.

At 10:30 on the morning of Tuesday 3rd September, over the Kent village of Chart Sutton, near Maidstone, the then usual sounds of cannon and machine gun fire, from yet another dogfight high in the heavens, were heard. Then came the other sound; a high-pitched screaming, as a blazing Hurricane plunged toward the earth out of the summer sky, with a long plume of black smoke marking its descent. Farm workers and others watched in horror; the stricken fighter looked set to crash onto the village school, where classes of local children were in attendance. But at almost the last moment, the doomed fighter was seen to veer sharply away to Port and to then crash in flames on the edge of the apple orchard at nearby Parkhouse Farm. The unfortunate pilot was obviously still at the controls.

The force of the crash was so great that identification of the pilot and aircraft seemed virtually impossible at the time, though in typically British fashion, a sharp-eyed local Police Officer watching the events unfold, had managed to note the aircraft’s serial number and the crash was reported to the Hollingbourne district ARP office. Despite this, it would be another forty-five years before the identity of this self-sacrificing pilot would even be guessed at, and a further five years before it was even remotely confirmed. Until then, he would simply be one of the increasing number of unsung heroes; young pilots who were simply posted as “Missing, presumed Killed In Action” as the Weald of Kent continued to be both a witness to, and a graveyard of, the great aerial struggle that was known as The Battle Of Britain.

Yet what this tiny piece of the huge Battle of Britain jigsaw vividly illustrates, is precisely the reason that this period of our island’s history is so dear to us.

As I said; the identity of the gallant pilot, who had stayed with his blazing aircraft and steered it away from the village school, remained a mystery for years. In 1989, I’d just moved to that area and was intrigued when one Sunday afternoon, I saw a Hurricane and a Spitfire, obviously from the RAF’s Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, performing a display over a nearby farm. My curiosity was of course aroused, as I knew the BBMF do not spare the engine hours of their aircraft lightly; so I asked around locally the following day and started to piece together the story, which ultimately turned into a full page article for the local newspaper, commemorating the 50th anniversary of the battle.

During the course of my research in 1989, I came across the following reports in the Kent County Archive at Maidstone:

Tuesday 3rd September 1940, Hollingbourne District A.R.P. Office: 

10:42.  A British Fighter has crashed in flames on Parkhouse Farm, Chart Sutton. Map reference 21/73.

11:12.  The aircraft is still burning fiercely and its ammunition is now exploding. There is no news of the pilot yet.

I also found out, thanks to the helpful locals, that even then, 49 years on from the crash, there is in fact a memorial to this unknown pilot, very close to where the aircraft crashed. It is a peaceful, beautifully kept garden, with a simple wooden cross bearing the inscription “RAF PILOT 3rd September 1940”. It was above this little memorial garden that the RAF had been performing their display.

The memorial lies hidden in a shady copse beside an apple orchard, on a south-facing slope that overlooks the one of the most beautiful parts of the county: the Weald of Kent. It is only open to the public once a year, and few people outside of the local Royal Air Force Association’s Headcorn branch and the people of Chart Sutton village, know its location. The whole thing, even now, is still a rather private affair between the local people, the RAF and the memory of the fallen pilot.

In 1970, the overgrown crash site was cleared and a formal garden constructed. There has been a memorial service every year at Chart Sutton Church ever since, which is usually followed by a display from either a lone fighter, or a pair of fighters, from the RAF’s Battle of Britain Memorial Flight. Tuesday, 3rd September 1940, is a date that Chart Sutton, and the RAF, have never forgotten.

Despite the fact that a local Police Officer had actually witnessed the crash and managed to log the involved aircraft’s number, confusion arose at the time because two more British fighters crashed in close proximity to the first very soon afterwards; one the next day in fact, at neighbouring Amberfield Farm and one ten days later on 14th September, almost unbelievably at Parkhouse Farm again.

The RAF sent a recovery squad to Chart Sutton on September 26th 1940, to clear the wreckage from all three crash sites. Although a local constabulary report to the RAF cited Hurricane P3782 as having been cleared from Parkhouse Farm, along with the fragmented remains of its pilot, plus the remains of the other pilot who’d crashed there on the 14th, that single piece of seemingly unimportant paper then got buried, lost in the general Police archives for years. It didn’t come to light again till the early to mid-nineteen eighties, probably during a clearout. It was then reproduced in that epic book, “The Battle of Britain Then & Now”.

Meanwhile, the removed remains of both pilots were interred at Sittingbourne & Milton Cemetery, in graves marked “unknown British airman”. The fighter that crashed at Amberfield Farm had left very little in its wake, having gone straight into the ground, so it is easy to see now, how the confusion over the identification of the three pilots subsequently arose, as aircraft crashes in Kent were of course quite commonplace during that long hot summer of 1940.

That was pretty much how things remained, till in 1980 a museum group excavated the site of the second Parkhouse Farm crash. Forty years to the very day since he’d crashed, Sergeant Pilot J.J. Brimble of 73 Squadron and his Hurricane, were exhumed from the Kent soil and positively identified. Also excavated at sometime soon afterwards, was the site of the Amberfield Farm crash, which was then positively identified as being that of Flying Officer Cutts of 222 Squadron, and his Spitfire. This left the last of the three “unknown airmen” and Hurricane P3782, the number from the now rediscovered police report.

Hurricane P3782 belonged to No. l Squadron, whose records show that on 3rd September 1940, it was allocated to Pilot Officer R.H. Shaw. The squadron log posts both Shaw and Hurricane P3782 as: “Missing, failed to return from a standing patrol” on the morning of Tuesday September 3rd 1940.

There can be little doubt now as to whom the Chart Sutton memorial belongs, but as the engine and cockpit of Shaw’s Hurricane are still deeply buried where they fell, there is nothing to base any official identification upon. Despite this, and the fact that the RAF removed what human remains they could find at the time, it has always been regarded locally as the last resting place of this gallant young airman.

Pilot Officer Robert Henry Shaw of 1 Squadron. By kind permission of Winston G. Ramsay, via Mitch Peeke.

Robert Henry Shaw was born on 28th July 1916, in Bolton to a family in the textile Business. He was commissioned as a Pilot Officer in the RAF on February 1st 1940 and posted to 11 Group, Fighter Command. On March 11th, he joined No.1 Squadron in France, as part of the force attempting to stem the German advance. The squadron was withdrawn to Tangmere, in Hampshire just before Dunkerque. It was at this time that Robert was inadvertently shot down by the pilot of another British fighter, who had evidently mistaken Robert’s Hurricane for a Messerschmitt 109. However, Robert managed to land his damaged Hurricane back at Tangmere and was himself unhurt.

I had the pleasure of meeting Robert’s brother when we were introduced to each other at the annual memorial service the year after the local newspaper ran my original story. Unbeknown to me, the paper had traced and contacted Robert’s family. His brother, who was completely unaware that Robert’s memory had been honoured annually in Chart Sutton for the previous nineteen years, travelled down for the 1991 service. At our meeting, he told me that Robert, in connection with the family’s textile business, had been a frequent visitor to Germany before the war and was at first mightily impressed by Hitler’s regime. However, during what turned out to be his final visit in 1937, Robert was witness to a public incident that dispelled any illusions he had formed of Hitler’s new Germany. Robert never did say exactly what it was that he’d witnessed, but though obviously tight of lip, he was decidedly firm of jaw. Robert came straight home and joined the RAF Volunteer Reserve, immediately.

The exact circumstances of Robert’s death have never been established, but it seems likely that he and his flight commander, Flight Lieutenant Hillcoat, probably encountered a pack of “Free hunting” Messerschmitt 109’s; ironically, one of the last such hunting pack operations before Goring unwisely tied his fighters to the bomber formations as a close escort. Robert was by then a seasoned and experienced fighter pilot, but the ensuing dogfight would have been anything but equal. Despite the odds being heavily against them, the pair did not shrink from the fight. Flight Lieutenant Hillcoat was also killed.

Pilot Officer Robert Henry Shaw of 1 Squadron Chart Sutton, Maidstone (photo Mitch Peeke)

The Chart Sutton memorial is the village’s way of honouring that last great courageous deed of Robert’s in steering his blazing and doomed Hurricane away from the village school. It was his final, desperate act of pure self-sacrifice that has justly made twenty-four year-old Pilot Officer Robert H. Shaw an immortal part of that Kent village.

Since I first penned this, some evidence has now emerged in the form of an engine plate that was apparently dug up at the site as long ago as 1987, which has now at last been brought out into the light of day. One is left to wonder just how many such artefacts, souvenired at some point in the past, still lie undiscovered in people’s houses!

My thanks go to Mitch for bringing this story to us.

RAF Leeming – The Great North Road (Pt 4).

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In this, the last part of Trail 57 – The Great North Road (pt 2) we see how Leeming progressed from the late 1960s to the present day. From the modest little Jet Provost to the Tornado and on to the Hawk trainer. Leeming’s long history was far from over, but it is now very different to those dark days of World War 2 and the four-engined heavy bombers of the Canadian Air Force. At this point in time it was now home to No. 3 Flying Training School (F.T.S.)

The Flying Training School would remain at Leeming for twenty-three years, before being disbanded for a few years, in 1984. It  had a long history extending as far back as 1920, morphing into different guises but performing basically the same role each time.

Here at Leeming, 3 F.T.S. would use the Jet Provost T.3, a design that was based on the piston-engined P.56 Provost, using a new fuselage mated to the original wing structure, it would become a popular design, seeing many years of service both in the Royal Air Force and Air Forces abroad. Designed and built by Hunting Percival Aircraft Limited, who were based at Luton Airport, it would go through few design changes (most were technical e.g. ejection seats, upgraded engines etc) between its initial flight and final model the T.5. In 1967 it would become the Strikemaster, when the British Aircraft Corporation (B.A.C) took over, but the initial design would go on to serve well into the 1990s performing well in the training role it was designed to do.

The Provost was designed for a straight through or ‘Ab Initio‘ (‘from the beginning’) role, taking the trainee pilot from the piston engined stage through to obtaining his ‘wings’ before advanced flying training as a qualified pilot.

Bruntingthorpe May 2016 079 Hunting Jet Provost T.3A at Bruntingthorpe. This was previously flown by 1 FTS.

Initial arrivals were slow, but courses ran on time and very soon Leeming would be welcoming cadets and trainees from across the globe. Over the next 20 years or so, further upgrades would be made to the airfield site, repairs and modifications made to the perimeters and hardstands. Leeming was to operate on a 24 hours basis allowing for emergency landings of visitors  both civil and military. It would take part in NATO exercises, hosting as it does today, aircraft from around the country and the globe when the need arose.

The mid 60s saw the return of female personnel to Leeming. An absence of almost twenty years with little pomp or ceremony, but it was nevertheless a milestone in Leeming’s long and distinguished history.

Another major event in Leeming’s history was the arrival of the Central Flying School (C.F.S.) in 1976-77. This addition to Leeming’s pans had been slowly coming with aircraft being dispersed here since the previous year. The C.F.S. was another long standing and dynamic unit that had gone through many changes and many moves, here at Leeming though, its arrival was heralded with a display by the ‘Vintage Pair’ a Vampire T.11 (XH304) and Meteor T.7 (WF791) seen at many airfields around the country until the flight was disbanded in May 1986.

The C.F.S.’s history is far too detailed to be looked at here, but in essence the first arrivals were the Scottish Aviation Bulldogs, a small single engined aircraft with side-by-side seating. These were joined not long after by the Headquarters, Groundschool and Jet Provosts of the C.F.S. from RAF Cranwell in September 1977.

More upgrades to hangars and aprons in the late 70s and early 80s saw further changes with arrivals and departures of other units, and a rather important cadet arrived in the form of HRH Prince Andrew, amid much public interest. 1982 also saw the arrival of an American unit, the USAF’s 131st Tactical Fighter Wing (T.F.W.), with 12 Phantom F-4s, followed not long after by C130s and C141s.

In 1984, a four year reconstruction programme amounting to some £148m was implemented to prepare Leeming for the arrival of the latest version of the Multi Role Combat Aircraft the Tornado. In this case the F2 Air Defence Variant (A.D.V.). It was during this time (1984) that Leeming would join 11 Group Strike Command, the old Fighter and Bomber Commands having been amalgamated in 1968. To facilitate the upgrade, the remaining units, both the C.F.S. and 3 F.T.S. would cease operations here. The C.F.S. departing to Scampton and  3 F.T.S. being disbanded for another five years.

The move of the C.F.S. to Scampton, saw the Jet Provosts and Bulldogs depart Leeming in a grand final farewell. Flying in formation, nine bulldogs took off an hour before a second formation of Jet Provosts led in a Vampire by Air Commodore Kip Kemball. In addition to the Bulldogs were sixteen Jet Provosts, an equal mix of Mk.3s and MK.5s, two Meteors and the Vampire. After flying over several of Yorkshire’s airfields, they arrived simultaneously at Scampton and their new home.

In July 1988 the rebuilding programme had been completed and RAF Leeming reopened with the arrival of No XI(Fighter) Sqn – on July 1st 1988. Following not far behind was No 23(Fighter) Sqn on 1st November that same year. The third squadron to arrive, No XXV(Fighter) Sqn, landed on 1st October 1989; all being reformed here and all operating the F3 Variant Tornado. The F3 would perform its duties for 20 years at Leeming, ending with the final disbandment of XXV(F) Sqn in April 2008.

XI (F) Squadron, had been in operation since 1915 with an almost unbroken service record. XXV (F) Sqn had been operating as a Bloodhound SAM unit since the early 1960s. In 1989 they returned to manned aircraft, taking on the Tornado, operating in a range of military operations during Gulf War 1, the former Yugoslavia and the Baltic States.

In 1989 a tragic accident marred the almost unblemished record of modern Leeming, when on Friday 21st July a Tornado of 23 Sqn ZE833, crashed into the sea off Tynemouth whilst on a training flight. The Pilot, Fl. Lt. Stephen Moir,  was leading a pair of ‘target’ aircraft, when after an initial field intercept he pulled the aircraft up to 4,000ft, before initiating a 20o-25o nose down dive. At 3 – 400 ft the navigator gave a verbal warning just as the on board low warning indicator, set at 200 ft, activated. Within moments the aircraft hit the calm sea, a fireball engulfing the aircraft, at which point the crew ejected. The co-pilot passed through the fireball sustaining minor burns but the pilot suffered major head injuries rendering him unconscious. After 40 minutes the co-pilot was recovered by a Sea King helicopter from RAF Boulmer, but the pilot had been unable to initiate any recovery action and sadly drowned*10.

An inquiry could not establish any direct cause of the crash, other than suggesting the pilot had not taken into account the lack of lift with wings set back at 67o and the smooth sea not providing visual cues as to his height. By the time the navigator gave his warning it may well have been too late to recover.

A second, but less serious accident occurred for XI (F) Sqn five years later on June 7th 1994. On this occasion, whilst performing a high speed, low-level (1,300ft) pass over the sea 45 miles north-east of Scarborough, the labyrinth seal around the high pressure shaft failed causing a massive fire, major component failure and eventual failure of the right engine. The aircraft, now uncontrollable, became engulfed in flames. The two crew ejected safely and the aircraft crashed into the sea. As a result, a speed restriction was put on all Tornado aircraft until the RB199 engine seal had been investigated.

Further reviews of the armed forces led to the Tornado F3 squadrons being cut. This was to aid the phasing in of its replacement the Eurofighter Typhoon. The first of these to go was 23 Sqn, who had previously occupied Port Stanley airfield following the Falklands War. After being reduced to just four aircraft the unit was disbanded only to reform here at Leeming in 1988. As a result of this review, on February 26th 1994, 23 Sqn was disbanded not reemerging again until 1996 at Waddington with Sentry AEW 1s.

Another review of the military (2003 Defence White Paper, “Delivering Security in a Changing World”) saw further reductions of the Tornado squadrons, notably the demise of XI (F) Squadron in October 2005. This reduction left just one Tornado F3 unit XXV (F) at Leeming. They remained here until 4th April 2008 when they too were disbanded.

The next big step in Leeming’s history occurred in 1995, with the arrival of 100 Squadron. 100 Sqn had a history extending back to World War 1, they had an extensive World War 2 history, culminating in the humanitarian operations ‘Manna’ and ‘Exodus’.

The role of 100 Sqn at Leeming was a far cry from the activities of the previous years. Equipped with the BAe Hawk T MK.1 – a fully aerobatic, low-wing, transonic, two-seat training aircraft, it fulfils an  ‘aggressor’ role simulating enemy forces and providing essential training to the RAF front-line units. The Hawk T1 is equipped to ‘operational standards’, capable of being armed with AIM-9L Sidewinder air-to-air missiles and up to eight 3Kg practice bombs.

A final and tragic loss occurred at Leeming on 22nd October 1999 with the loss of Hawk T.1A ‘XX193’ just outside the village of Shap in Cumbria. The flight incorporated a three ship formation flying in the aggressor role, where one aircraft attempts to intercept the remaining two, who then take defensive action. After performing two such ‘attacks’ the aggressor, flown by Sqn Ldr Mike Andrews, flew north along the M6 corridor. During a slow turn, XX193, struck two trees and a brick outbuilding causing extensive damage to the property and destroying the aircraft. Neither of the two crew managed to eject resulting in both their deaths.

The assessment of the crash ruled that the aircraft was well maintained and serviceable, and that the Hawk pilot may have been distracted by other close aircraft taking his concentration off the low height. They also sited pilot fatigue as possible factor *11

RAF Leeming Hawk T1s of 100 Sqn line up for take off at RAF Leeming.

A number of other squadrons continue to use Leeming, in April 1996, 34 Squadron RAF Regiment arrived in North Yorkshire after serving for forty years in Cyprus. Now part of No. 2 RAF Force Protection Wing, their role is to provide air force protection capabilities. In 2007 – 90 Signals Unit arrived from RAF Brize Norton, they now form the largest contingency at Leeming,  half of the airfields population, providing communication services to operations both within the UK and by supporting operations world wide.

Whilst not flying units these nonetheless provide important services and support to the Royal Air Force operations, forming a large part of Leeming’s presence in this small Yorkshire village.

In 2014, history repeated itself with the return of 405 (R.C.A.F.) Sqn who flew into Leeming to take part in operation ‘Joint Warrior’. Now flying CP-140 Auroras, it was the first time the squadron had been at Leeming since it departed in World War 2. The full story appeared in ‘The Northern Echo’ newspaper.

Currently the RAF operate both the Hawk and the 120TP Prefect at Leeming. With its history extending far back to the origins of the Second World War, its links with the Canadian bomber group and a wide range of aircraft types and personnel, its history for the moment looks secure. In an ever changing world though who knows what the future holds, but for now, Leeming plays a major role in the training of Britain’s front line fighter pilots striving to keep the World’s air spaces free from terror.

Being an active base access to Leeming is restricted. A Tornado currently resides as the Gate Guard reminding us of the links with the former work horse of the RAF’s front line squadrons. The A1 main road by passes Leeming and access to the site has to be by exiting this road and turning on to the old Leeming road into the village. The road along side the airfield does offer excellent views, and a public viewing area has been provided by the base, for those who wish to watch the flying safely and virtually unrestricted.

Leeming has along and varied history, used by many nationals and operating a wide range of aircraft types, it is has been, and continues to be, a major player in Britain’s  air defence.

RAF Leeming 120TP PREFECT

Sources and further reading.

*1 National Archives Operational Record Book AIR 27/98/1

*2 National Archives Operational Record Book AIR 27/379/4

*3 National Archives Operational Record Book AIR 27/1796/28

*4 To avoid confusion with renumbering, Air Force Order 324/40, dated 7th June 1940, stated: “In order to avoid confusion in matters pertaining to similarly numbered units of the RAF and the RCAF, all units of the RCAF, after embarkation for overseas, are to be identified by use of the word “Canada” as a suffix immediately after the Squadron number, e.g., No. 110 Canadian (AC) Squadron.” However, this order was cancelled on 4th June 1943 by Air Force Routine Order 1077/43.

*5 AIR 27/1848

*6 Emmanuel College Roll of Honour website.

*7 Coupland, P. “Straight and True –  A History of RAF Leeming” Leo Cooper 1997.

*8  The London Gazette on 23rd October 1951 (Issue: 39366, Page: 5509)

*9 Buttler, T., “The 1957 Defence White Paper – The Cancelled Projects”. Journal of Aeronautical History, Paper No. 2018/03

*10 Ministry of Defence Military Aircraft Accident Summaries 7/90 6th June 1990

*11 Ministry of Defence Military Accident Summaries January 2001.

AIR 27/141/24

The Bomber Command Museum of Canada Website.

The Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum website

RAF Leeming – Royal Air Force Website.

Ward. C., “4 Group Bomber Command: An Operational Record“. 2012 Pen and Sword.

A detailed history of RAF Leeming can be found in: Peter Coupland’s book “Straight & True  – A History of RAF Leeming“, published in 1997 by Pen and Sword.

The full Trail can be seen in Trail 57.

RAF Leeming – The Great North Road (Pt 3).

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In the next part of this trail, Leeming enters the jet age, its future still in the balance as many of Britain’s airfields are closed and sold off. But with new aircraft coming on line and a new threat looming from the east, Leeming survives and takes on a new role.

The end of World War 2 saw a Europe devastated by war. The Eastern countries liberated by the Russians had survived the tyranny of the Nazi regime, only to be embroiled in Communist hardship and doctrines. A new threat was emerging as mistrust grew between the Eastern Bloc and the Western Allies. A new Europe would emerge hanging delicately by a fine thread of peace: the Cold War was approaching.

Immediately though, there was little need for many of Britain’s extensive range of wartime airfields, and many were either put in to ‘Care and Maintenance’, sold off or simply closed and left to decay. But this new threat would see some of Britain’s wartime airfields remain open, some turning into missile bases, and some continuing in the air defence or strategic bombing role. For Leeming, this was perhaps, its saviour.

Within a month of the Canadian’s departure, a new unit would arrive at Leeming, not a front line fighter squadron nor a heavy bomber squadron, but a training unit, 54 Operational Training Unit (O.T.U.), which had been operational throughout the war. Flying a range of aircraft types, they were a far cry from the heavies that had preceded them over the last two years or so.

Their arrival in June was heralded by the ferrying in of a number of aircraft types, ranging from Tiger Moths to  Martinets and Wellingtons. Fighters such as the Tempest and Mosquito were also brought in during these early days of post war Leeming. The purpose of 54 O.T.U. was as a night fighter training unit, using ‘modern’ radar sets whose development had started during the war.

But years of neglect and a lack of funding, had meant that many of Britain’s airfields – to which Leeming was no exception – were in a poor state of repair, and much work was urgently needed to bring them up to a good standard. Over the next year or so, major repairs would be carried out. As a priority, the wartime accommodation buildings and now outdated water system were targeted first. Help in doing this was enlisted from German P.O.W.s who were yet to be repatriated, billeting them in the former accommodation blocks within the airfield grounds.

The immediate post war era saw a massive demobbing of forces personnel, this led to a  decline in service manpower, a move that resulted in the 1949 National Service Act. As a result of this act, adults between 17 and 21, were required, by law, to perform 18 months National Service.  This draft led to an influx of untrained personnel, who were brought in to fill gaps in important trades, but short service lengths meant the training was inadequate for many, and so a number of unskilled or poorly skilled personnel were placed in prime engineering positions. This lack of skilled personnel may well have contributed to a number of the many minor and major mishaps that occurred in the R.A.F. in the immediate years following the war.

Training new pilots was a risky business in these post war days, and on November 8th 1946, Pilot – Sqn. Ldr. Noel Dan Halifax R.A.F. (s/n: 33404), and his navigator F.O. Roy Edward Chater R.A.F.V.R. (s/n: 194286) were both killed whilst undertaking a training flight out of Leeming airfield. Chater was one of many young men who had come from the Emanuel College, Cambridge and was 21 years of age at the time of his death*6; his pilot was 27.

On that fateful day, the Mosquito, an NF30  serial number ‘NT266’, departed Leeming  in the late morning on a cross country training flight. Part of this flight took the Mosquito across the moors to the east of Leeming airfield. Whilst over the moors, the aircraft entered thick cloud which may have caused ice to form on the wings and / or control surfaces of the aircraft. The pilot, whilst a veteran of the Second World War and a Colditz inmate, had been in a P.O.W. camp for many years and was possibly inexperienced in both the aircraft type, and the weather conditions in which they were flying. After entering the cloud, the aircraft was then seen by a local farmer to dive in to the ground at Pockley Moor – killing both crewmen outright – the aircraft digging itself into the soft Moorland, where parts of it remain today. The Mosquito, a Leavesden aircraft built under contract 1/576 had only been at Leeming since the July, and was struck off charge as a result of the crash.

On May 1st the following year (1947), following the disbandment and subsequent merging of 54 O.T.U. with 13 O.T.U., a new unit, 228 Operational Conversion Unit (O.C.U.) was formed at Leeming. Flying a mix of piston engined and jet aircraft, it would eventually disband in 1961 before being reformed at Leuchars in Scotland in 1965.

One of the many types operated by the O.C.U. included the Meteor NF.36, a night fighter version of the Meteor that would be fitted with American built radar units. A delay  in supply of these models though meant that their presence would be limited, resulting in the reintroduction of the MK.XXX – a previous version of the aircraft. With a mix of aircraft types and a new influx of engineers, Leeming would soon see a return of the problems experienced by the Canadians only months before during the war.

Specialist tooling, experience in different aircraft and new parts were all once again in short supply, and in early 1948, this combination may well have led to the loss of a second Mosquito along with its pilot. In fact, as the 1940s drew to their close, pilot error and engine problems were commonly recorded as the causes of such accidents.

The O.C.U. would provide the opportunity for crews to convert from one aircraft type to another. The rise in tension in the Middle East (of which my father was to be a part of) saw the introduction firstly of the Brigand conversion course, and later the Mosquito light bomber course. These were then joined by both the Beaufighter and Meteor 7 courses. But these courses were dogged by delays, primarily due to the high number of unserviceable aircraft, created as a result of these aforementioned issues.

The early 1950s saw further changes to the R.A.F.’s training programmes, as squadrons were disbanded crews were posted elsewhere, and the aircraft they had been operating were moved about or scrapped. With much of this occurring at Leeming, the airfield would become a hive of activity. The silver lining on this rather dark cloud though, meant that the older outdated piston engines were disposed of, and more jets were brought in. The R.A.F.’s modernisation could at last perhaps begin.

RAF Leeming

A mix of old and new at Leeming.

On August 13th 1951, one of the most tragic of post war accidents was to happen to two Leeming aircraft – a Wellington and a Martinet both operated by 228 O.C.U. 

The two aircraft were carrying out air interception flights, the Wellington being used to train aircrew in the use of the interception radar, and the Martinet playing the part of the ‘target’. This was seen as an opportunity to give good experience to a group of Air Cadets who were visiting Leeming, both to see how these flights were carried out, and to give them experience in flying – it was meant to be a joyful day, but it sadly turned very sour with no warning.

With Cadets taking turns in each type, the two aircraft departed Leeming, and headed out over the Yorkshire countryside, the Martinet hiding amongst the cloud whilst the Wellington tried to track it.

The MK.XVIII Wellington (PG367) was flying over Husdwell in North Yorkshire with a crew of seven on  board that included one Air Cadet. The Martinet had a crew of two, again one was an Air Cadet gaining flying experience in the aircraft.

All of a sudden, the Martinet appeared of of the clouds colliding with the Wellington who had ironically failed to see him. The two aircraft struck each other, the collision causing the Martinet to immediately fall groundward killing instantly both the Cadet and the pilot. The Wellington meanwhile began to spin and break apart. The tail section, holding the parachutes, broke away leaving the crew stranded in the main fuselage. An experienced member of the crew, Ft. Lt John Alan Quinton (R.A.F.) G.C., D.F.C. managed to locate one parachute, strapped it onto the young cadet before he either fell, or was pushed  out, through the hole left by the now missing tail. 

With no further means of escape, the crew could do nothing but await their fate, one that came within moments and with the inevitable fatal consequences.

Of the nine people on board the two aircraft that day, only one, the cadet, sixteen year old Derek Coates A.T.C., survived, the remaining eight all being killed when the two aircraft hit the ground.

As a result of his actions, Flt. Lt. Quinton was awarded the George Cross posthumously, details being published in the London Gazette on 23rd October 1951:*8

CENTRAL CHANCERY OF THE ORDERS OF KNIGHTHOOD.
St. James’s Palace, S.W.I.
23rd October. 1951.

The KING has been graciously pleased to approve the posthumous award of the GEORGE CROSS to: —

Flight Lieutenant John Alan QUINTON, D.F.C. (115714), Royal Air Force, No. 228  Operational Conversion Unit.

On August the 13th, 1951, Flight Lieutenant Quinton was a Navigator under instruction in a Wellington aircraft which was involved in a midair collision. The sole survivor from the crash was an Air Training Corps Cadet who was a passenger in the aircraft, and he has established the fact that his life was saved by a supreme act of gallantry displayed by Flight Lieutenant Quinton, who in consequence sacrificed his own life. Both Flight Lieutenant Quinton and the cadet were in the rear compartment of the aircraft when the collision occurred. The force of the impact caused the aircraft to break up, and as it was plunging towards the earth out of control, Flight Lieutenant Quinton picked up the only parachute within reach, and clipped it on to the cadet’s harness. He pointed to the rip cord and a gaping hole in the aircraft, thereby indicating that the cadet should jump. At that moment a further portion of the aircraft was torn away and the cadet was flung through the side of the aircraft clutching his rip cord, which he subsequently pulled and landed safely. Flight Lieutenant Quinton acted with superhuman speed, displaying the most commendable courage and self-sacrifice as he well knew that in giving up the only parachute within reach, he was forfeiting any chance of saving his own life. Such an act of heroism and humanity ranks with the very highest traditions of the Royal Air Force, besides establishing him as a very gallant and courageous officer who, by his action, displayed the most conspicuous heroism.

Since then, a memorial has been dedicated to those who died, so their names may live on and so that the tragic accident may never be forgotten.

It was during this early part of the 1950s, that it was decided to upgrade Leeming to accept more jets, a new perimeter track and an extension to the runway was needed, better radio networks and accommodation blocks were required. Work began over the winter of 1951/52 which caused major disruption for those stationed at the base; so to allow flying to continue, it was decided to transfer the O.C.U. to RAF Coltishall. To add insult to injury, the snow and bad weather of 1951/52 further delayed the transfer of the O.C.U., the process not being completed until February at the earliest. By the summer though, work was almost completed and the O.C.U. returned now having in excess of 40 Meteors on its books. Leeming had now properly entered the jet age.

The increase in world tensions and improvements to the Air Force’s readiness, saw many reviews of the training programmes. Leeming’s wing was divided into three squadrons, each one focusing on a different aspect of flying training. Students would pass though each section before being allocated to an operational unit.

During the mid 50’s yet more work was carried at Leeming, including resurfacing of runways, a new airfield lighting system and further extensions to the accommodation areas. A new Vampire also emerged, the T.II, and new a Meteor, the NF.12.

1956 would see the jet age take a step further, with more new models arriving at Leeming destined for the O.C.U., that of Gloster’s Delta winged Javelin F.A.W.5.  To deal with the lack of trained crews required by the increase in numbers of squadrons waiting to transfer over to the Javelin, a ground training section was created within 228 O.C.U. – that of the Javelin Mobile Training Unit (J.M.T.U.) in early 1957.

Set up using simulators and radar equipment in caravans, a flying classroom was provided in one of two Vickers Valletas, a twin engined aircraft used to replace the Dakotas used in wartime. Gradually over time, a dedicated trainer version of the Javelin was brought in, the T.3, which meant that by 1959, the J.M.T.U. was no longer required, and it was disbanded.

The Javelin’s ingress into squadron life was slow,  until the September of 1957, when 33 Squadron (reformed following the disbandment of 264 Sqn) arrived at Leeming. Initially bringing more Meteors, they transitioned over to the Javelin F.A.W. 7 in the summer of the following year. Based on a design requirement F.44/46 for a twin-seat all weather / night fighter, the Javelin was developed into over ten different marks before its production was finally curtailed.

33 Sqn would not stay long though, apart from a short revisit it departed Leeming a year later, moving to Middleton St. George, now Durham Tees Valley Airport.

The transference to the Javelin was now happening in earnest, and with so many front line squadrons converting to the Javelin, it was imperative that training was increased. However, politics would play their part in the downfall of 228 O.C.U. and its eventual, but temporary, demise. With somewhere in the region of over eighty aircraft operated by the squadron, Duncan Sandy’s 1957 Defence White Paper would see RAF units cut back once more as numbers were reduced in light of perceived changes in the style and nature of any future nuclear war. The O.C.U. was therefore, disbanded in 1962 after it had moved to Middleton St George, its role ceasing after many years of active and all but unbroken duty since 1929.

The White Paper of 1957 is often considered as one of aviation’s greatest scythes cutting five major aircraft projects and two engine development programmes.  The first of these, the Avro 730 was followed by, the Saunders-Roe SR.177, the Short Seamew (a small lightweight anti-submarine aircraft), the Fairey Delta 3 Long Range Interceptor and the The Hawker P.1121. The Lightning was also hit hard but survived the cull to fill the gap between manned interceptors and ground to air missiles. Whilst cancelling these projects others did survive, the thin Wing Javelin (cancelled post White paper), the Hunter, and of course the Harrier, a remarkable leap in aviation*9.

A number of visiting units stopped by at Leeming during this turbulent time of the late 1950s / early 1960s. This brought a lot of aircraft and a lot of personnel, which Leeming, as an already cramped base, could not ideally hold. But the extensive range of aircraft must have made for excellent viewing for those interested in aviation.

Following the departure of 228 O.C.U., Leeming would immediately be occupied by another unit. The arrival of No. 3 Flying Training School (F.T.S.), under the control of 23 Group Flying Training Command.

In the last part of this trail, we see how Leeming became a front line operational station, giving up the training role to accommodate the R.A.F.’s modern front line fighter of the time the Tornado.

The full Trail can be seen in Trail 57.

Rear Gunner Flight Sergeant Nicholas S. Alkemade, 115 Squadron RAF

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There have been many stories about bravery and acts of courage in all the Armed Forces involved in war. Jumping out of a burning aircraft at 18,000 ft without a parachute must come as one of those that will live on in history.

There have been a number of recorded incidents where this has occurred, and the crew member involved has lived to tell the tale. On the night of March 23rd/24th 1944, such a thing happened, and to the astonishment of both the Germans and the crew member, who survived to tell the tale.

Flt. Sgt. Nicholas  Stephen (Nico Stephan) Alkemade was born the 10th December 1922 (believed to be North Walsham, Norfolk, England), and was just twenty-one years old on that eventful night. He was stationed at RAF Witchford in Cambridgeshire, England and operated as a rear gunner in a Lancaster bomber.

On the night of the 23rd March 1944, the squadron was called to report to briefing to find that their mission for that night would be Berlin, the heart of Germany. They would form part of an 811 strong force made up of Lancasters, Halifaxes and Mosquitoes. This was to be the final run over Berlin.

Later that night, Alkemade climbed into the rear turret of his 115 Squadron, Lancaster ‘DS664’ named ‘Werewolf‘ and prepared himself for the coming raid which was to be his 13th mission.

Once over Oberkochen, nr, Frankfurt, Germany, the aircraft was attacked by Luftwaffe Ju 88 night-fighters, it caught fire and began to spiral out of control.

Now fearing for his life, the aircraft burning furiously, he looked round for his parachute. Turrets being notoriously small, he was not wearing it and would have to find it from inside the fuselage and put it on before exiting the aircraft.

He found himself surrounded by fire, the heat melting his mask and his skin burning. The fuselage was by now a massive fire. It was at this point, that he noticed his parachute no longer on the rack but burning on the floor of the aircraft. In his recount later in life, he describes how he felt:

“For a brief moment I stared while it dissolved before my eyes. It was not so much a feeling of fear, or dismay, or horror, as a sensation, a sort of twisting in the stomach”.

The fire reached his turret, his clothes scorched, now began to burn. With two options, die in an inferno or jump, he rotated the turret, elbowed open the hatch and fell back, he was 18,000 feet (5,500 m) up. As he fell, he could see the stricken Lancaster explode, then the stars beneath his feet. As he gained momentum, breathing became difficult, again his account reads:

‘Funny, I thought, but if this is dying, it’s not so bad . Then the rushing air, the stars, the ground, the sky, all merged and were forgotten as unconsciousness crept over me…’

Three hours later, Alkemade opened his eyes and looked at his watch, it read 3:25. He had jumped just after midnight. cautiously, he moved each part of his body to find everything was alright, if not a little  stiff.

It was at this moment he realised what he had done and that he was lying beneath pine tress in snow. It was these trees and snow that had saved his life. Cold and unable to move, he needed help.  Taking out his whistle, he blew hard, and continued with alternate blows and smokes of his remaining cigarettes, until found, unfortunately for him, by a German patrol.

The Gestapo interrogated Alkemade, at first in disbelief of his story, but after examining the wreckage of his aircraft, they found the remains of his parachute and were so amazed by his escape, they (reputedly) gave him a certificate in acknowledgement of his testimony.

He was taken to Stalag Luft 3, North Compound, in Poland, and was given Prisoner number: 4175. On the night he jumped, 76 men escaped from the very same prison, an event that became known as ‘The Great Escape’.

Alkemade’s stay was initially very unpleasant, spending days in solitary confinement for being a spy. He was eventually billeted amongst other airmen in the very same hut that one of the tunnels was dug from. He, like other prisoners, was given a diary which was his only and most prized possession. In it he wrote about the boredom and monotony of prison life. He became friends with the artist Ley Kenyon, who added illustrations to his diary.

Sporadic letters from home kept his spirits up, and eventually the Allies reached the camp and he was set free.

Alkemade found out later that the Lancaster had crashed, killing the pilot Jack Newman and three other members of the crew. Both the wireless operator and Navigator survived being thrown clear on impact. The deceased are all believed to be buried in the CWGC’s Hanover War Cemetery. Alkemade was repatriated in May 1945. Post war he returned to Leicestershire, where he married Pearl with whom he had been sending letters and was employed initially in a chemical works (where he survived 3 chemical accidents) and then as a furniture salesman until his death on June 29th 1987, in Cornwall.

Nicholas Alkemade’s story, along with his whistle, is recorded in the RAF Witchford display along with artefacts and other personal memorabilia from the crews and staff of the airfield. His diary and letters remain with his son in their Leicestershire home. Pictures from his diary were published in the ‘Leicester Mercury’ Newspaper, November 2013.

For more information about RAF Witchford see Trial 11.

alkemade

Sgt. Nicholas Alkemade