A Very Unusual Air War (34 page)

1 August
: My first flight in an Anson, another pre-war, wood and fabric, twin-engine aircraft. There was no question of my being given any instruction or a conversion course; I was just told to get in and fly it. The two members of ground staff must have had supreme confidence in my ability as they came along for the ride.

3 August
: The German pilot, Uffz Heinz Ehrhardt, when landing at Manston, had not been kind enough to bring with him a set of Pilot’s Notes for the FW190. I was dependent on the few instructions Susie had given me prior to being posted away. As many things were different, I spent three days studying the 190, the movement of the controls and particularly checking the radio and oxygen systems before making my first flight. This delay caused a severe brush with Squadron Leader Dyson, who was under pressure from Air Ministry to get going on the programme, in particular the visits to our fighter bases in the south of England. In the event, and being extremely careful, I made my maiden flight with no problems at all.

6 August
: These flights were to attend the court of enquiry into our Mosquito crash.

Sadly, that day I had to leave Susie to take up the first part of his move to non-flying duties; it was with great regret and a real sense of loss that I waved goodbye.

15 August
: This was the start of a ten-day tour of fighter stations in the southeast part of Britain, from which most of the attacks on the Germans in France and Belgium were launched. It was my first demonstration of the 190’s capabilities in mock combat. I merely threw the 190 around, particularly demonstrating its wonderful rolling performance, while the Spitfire pilots took turns to attack. I hardly had time to draw breath before they had me up for a repeat performance. It was the same when I was on the ground; all the boys wanted to examine the 190 at close quarters and have their turn to sit in the cockpit.

17 August
: I continued to play with them the next morning before going on to land at Biggin Hill. This was one of the most famous Battle of Britain airfields and this was my first visit there.

The Polish Wing of three Squadrons was based at Northolt. Well known for their undying hatred of the Germans, they were all eager to have a go at the 190. I just hoped they would all remember that it was just an exercise and not for real.

The Polish chaps kept me going until it was dark, so I performed a night landing, with some trepidation but no trouble. On one of these mock combats one of the Spits developed engine trouble and peeled off streaming black smoke. I had a momentary fear that the Poles would think I had shot it down and, being notoriously trigger happy, take a shot at me. Their Group Captain was flying with them and kept them under control.

18 August
: When flying the Focke Wulf I always had a Spitfire escort, usually two aircraft. At Hornchurch, as I arrived in the circuit, the resident Squadron was returning from a sweep. The Squadron Leader, seeing a FW190 in the circuit, gave me a bad moment when he started an attack, only stopping at the last minute when he saw that my wheels and flaps were down. A clean pair of pants was required! After that, when flying in 11-Group airspace (the S.E. corner of England), I had a 4-Spit escort.

19 August
: The FW190, with its high wing loading, had a landing touch-down speed of 100/110 mph, compared to a Spit’s 80/85 mph, and usually a longer landing run. It was left to my discretion whether I went into airfields such as Kenley with a short runway. As most of my operational flying was from Kenley, I felt that I had to make the attempt and, in the event, had no trouble.

At Kenley, my old station with 602 Squadron, I could not resist doing an aerobatic beat-up at low level as part of my demonstration. Show off! I wonder whether any of my WAAF friends were there to see it.

20 August
: Having spent some time in the Tangmere sector whilst serving with 41 Squadron, I treated them to a display of low aerobatics as well. The FW190 had a phenomenal rate of roll and my party trick was to dive from 1,000 feet, pull back the stick to almost vertical, apply full throttle and perform a series of climbing rolls, left then right, until the speed dropped to near stall. 8½ rolls was my record and onlookers were always impressed.

I spent that night in the Tangmere Officers’ Mess and witnessed one of the war’s tragedies: late evening, we heard a large aircraft, which turned out to be a four-engined Halifax, circling the airfield in an attempt to land but obviously in trouble, with two engines badly damaged. The pilot made two abortive attempts to land, managing to stagger round again. At the third try he touched the runway, swung violently to port, stalled and pancaked on to two of the hangars. What we did not know was that a tannoy message had gone out ordering all personnel to evacuate the airfield as the Halifax still had an unexploded 4,000 lb. bomb on board. The Officers’ Mess tannoy system had failed and we had not heard the message, so we streamed to the scene of the crash, where the Halifax and two hangars were burning furiously. Only the tail-gunner was still alive, trapped in the turret; we could do nothing to help as he burned to death. Meanwhile, a young corporal of the crash crew had enlisted our help and two Spitfires were pushed clear and saved. Two others and five Typhoons were destroyed.

The crew of the Halifax all perished in the blaze. The following morning they could only be found by rows of buttons and belt buckles. That young corporal showed great bravery and should have received a medal. The information about the bomb proved to be false.

21 August
: I sneaked a trip to Westcott for a quick visit to Mother, Gwen and family at Poletrees.

22 August
: These ‘beat-ups’, low-level dives on the airfield, were authorised to show off the fantastic rate of roll of the 190. Thrills galore!

23 August
: Portreath was a very small grass airfield, sloping up from the cliffs on the north coast of Cornwall, an approach from the sea to the upward-sloping field. To make matters worse, I had been fired on by members of a coastal defence ack-ack battery who had apparently not been warned of a visiting enemy aircraft. As usual (
Deo Volente
) they missed. Despite the problems I decided to have a go and landed safely.

24 August
: The short flight to Colerne included displays at both airfields and demonstrating the 190 to resident Mosquito squadrons.

The return ended two weeks on detachment with intensive flying activity. Wherever I went, the Focke Wulf aroused great interest, so I was kept busy even when on the ground. Everyone wanted to sit in the cockpit and have his (or her) questions answered. At one airfield, the station commander, a Group Captain who shall remain nameless, asked me to show him the taps so that he could fly the FW. I explained that I had no authority to allow anyone else to fly the machine as it was, at that time, the only airworthy version in Allied hands. He did not take kindly to a refusal from a mere Flight Lieutenant and pulled rank, saying I was under his command while on his station. I stuck to my guns and he eventually backed off. Back at Wittering I reported this occurrence and, to cover me in future, I was given a letter from the Ministry confirming the position.

I was glad to return to Wittering for a well-earned four-day rest for the aircraft and me. I also greatly appreciated the hardworking ground crew who kept the 190 in such good trim.

30 August
: These were training flights in making blind approach and landings, using a variation of the American Lorenz system: all dots and dashes!

31 August
: Back to routine test work. What an anti-climax this was after that fortnight with the 190.