JET LAG! (17 page)

             
The previous day in 1940 had been a bad one for the air defence forces and especially for the shipping attempting to transit the English Channel, mainly carrying coal. Even though radar had picked up an attack formation heading for a convoy off Dover, the Spitfires were bounced by Bf109s and one Spit was shot down. The Germans sped away without loss. It was clear that someone in the German Command structure was beginning to fathom out  a way the British radar could be avoided and exploited.

              Churchill was dismayed to learn from Dowding that Fighter Command would be all but destroyed by the end of  August if losses didn’t start reducing soon. Action on the seventh of July underlined that probability. After a short-lived air battle, the Germans lost only five aircraft – of which only one was a fighter. In return the RAF lost ten aircraft – and six of those were old WWI Defiants. Operating these ancient and decrepit old aircraft is what Fighter Command had been sadly reduced to! It was only the arrival of Hurricanes from Treble-One Squadron which allowed some of the Defiants to escape. Even changes in tactics were not having the desired effect as losses continued to rise.

              The personnel at Middle Fleckney worked through the daylight hours of the third of July and then into the night to ensure that aircraft would be ready for flying on the fourth. The aircrews spent many hours in the planning rooms working out precise take-off and recovery procedures, and drawing up maps and charts. A separate VHF radio frequency was allocated to all Purple aircraft and even though they could listen out on regular RAF frequencies – they were not to transmit on anything except their own.

              Todd considered the flying programme. Who would go on the first sorties? And what would be the targets? Should the bombers strike deep into Germany? Should the Recce jets go first and update intelligence? Should the fighters (ADV) accompany the Recce to protect them? Of course, the Recce Tornados could carry bombs and missiles – so that they could fulfill a standby role  – and additionally they could protect themselves on solo unescorted missions. ‘Armed, Alone and Unafraid’ was their motto! There were many, many options flooding through his mind and so, eventually, he turned to the planners from 1940 to provide a solution. They knew the situation best. They knew the best targets to attack. They should supply the information to Todd, whose tactical planning team would convert the intelligence into missions and allocate it to specific crews as required.

              However, the one mistake that Todd wanted to avoid was to put his team at unnecessary risk. They all wanted desperately to return home and Todd was determined to make sure that as many of them as possible survived to do so. He had spoken to his mother at length on the subject and she had reassured him. She was certain that a window of opportunity for return would be there on the eighth of September. She also explained that the window would place them back in their own timeframe at precisely the same time and date they disappeared. In fact, only seconds would have passed and nobody in 1992 would have noticed their absence. A slight flicker on radar – put down to the thunderstorm is all that would have been detected.

              In reality, she was bluffing. She couldn’t possibly know when exactly Purple would reappear – it might not even be in 1992! However, she saw no profit in revealing this possibility to Todd and his team.

Nevertheless, armed with this ‘gen’ which he believed to be true, Todd was more than confident that he could get everyone back to 1992 in one piece. However, he also faced the grim reality that four members of his team had already died, and that it was highly likely that there would be more casualties to follow. Todd had to put this uncertainty from his mind and tried to concentrate on the task at hand. He had an excellent team to help him, and he was determined and dedicated to try his utmost to get them all home.

25

              By general consensus, it had been decided to attack the enemy on two fronts. Primarily, search out and destroy the German jet fighters – either in the air or at their bases on mainland Europe. Secondly, intercept conventional bombers and fighters to prevent attacks on fighter bases in the south-east of England. The 1992 leadership was able to brief Churchill, subtly, that the Germans would probably attack the fighter airfields in an attempt to gain air superiority for his invasion – Operation Sealion. What they didn’t reveal was that the Germans would inexplicably change their tactics – which in essence changed the course of the war. Todd realised that the 1992 crews must not influence or change that decision by Hitler – or this Battle for Britain would be lost – and their part in it wasted.

              Therefore, if they were to find the German jet fighter bases in Europe, some reconnaissance was required, because nobody on the 1992 team had enough expert knowledge of WWII to know any of the Me 262 airfield locations. The British had discovered through its network of spies inside Germany that the jet aircraft had been designed and built in Lithuania – at Kretinga – and this was where the main assembly was taking place. However, the range of the new jet limited its radius of action, so it had been deployed by the Germans to a top secret location in Denmark. The British were not absolutely sure of the exact whereabouts of the airfield and several Recce sorties had failed to find it. Therefore, it was decided to send a reconnaissance Canberra PR9 on a mission to find the site. The beauty of the PR9 was that it's F52 sideways looking camera had been adapted for Infra-Red use and could be used in the dark, alongside the F82 vertical camera. The pilot also had use of three F95 cameras for low level reconnaissance – which actually started life in Spitfires during WWII – so spares were not an issue! However, the PR9 was unarmed except for two rapidly adapted AIM-9 infra-red air-to-air heat-seeking Sidewinder missiles, and so it would need top-cover. Therefore, two Air Defence Tornados would accompany it on this first mission.

It was almost an eight hundred mile round-trip to Denmark – about two hours – and was well  within the range of both types, even though the Tornados would need extra fuel tanks. This would make them less manoeuvrable – but with their look-down shoot-down radar they would have a great advantage. Furthermore, the take-off time of 0300 hours would surprise the Germans as most of them would be asleep, or at least very tired and perhaps not as alert as they might be. It would be light over the target area by 0500, so capturing the landmass on the F49 camera film was not an issue.

The crews selected themselves. Wing Commander Barclay Hunt would fly lead ADV with Ed Brown, his navigator. Squadron Leader John Hortin would be the number two with Jon Holliday. These two had flown together for several years and were known affectionately as ‘John squared.’ The Recce crew would be Squadron Leader Al Norman and Flt Lt Steve Hicks. This crew were extremely experienced with almost sixty years flying experience between them.

The three aircraft would climb rapidly to thirty-five thousand feet and head straight for Denmark. The Tornados would cover the Canberra and deal with any night-fighters before they had a chance to get close. But to be frank, the Germans had nothing to touch them at that height. It was only on take-off and landing that the Recce bird would be vulnerable. It was a fairly straightforward mission, but did rely on fair weather with little cloud over Denmark or the vertical camera would be useless. Jim Charles, the Met Man, had briefed the crews that the weather over Northern Europe was favourable, but there was a chance of patchy cumulus cloud at low level. However, the chances of achieving success on the mission were high, so they decided to go for it.

              The whole station was very excited about this first mission, so airmen and officers alike worked like beavers to get the jets in tip-top condition. The target area for high level photography was about forty by sixty miles, and would need ten runs across the objective lasting eight minutes each. This would be no problem for the Canberra but made things very tight for the fighters as their fuel endurance was much less. Therefore, it was agreed that if the formation encountered no resistance on the outbound journey, one Tornado would return to Middle Fleckney for immediate re-fuel so that it could shield the recovery. The second fighter would remain on station at maximum endurance speed until task complete over Denmark – and then make a ‘dirty dart’ for base. This seemed the best compromise and was agreed upon by all parties. Fuel management, as was often the case, would be the key to success.

              As the take-of time of 0300 approached nerves began to jangle. All of the preparatory work had been done by 2200 and it was just a matter of waiting for take-off time. The groundcrew had painted good-luck emblems on the side of each of the aircraft and had daubed the missiles with messages for the intended victims like, ‘take-this, Fritz.’ This all helped to relax nerves and so at around 0215, the crews boarded their aircraft to make final preparations for this epic journey.

              At 0245, the groundcrew made sure that the first aircraft – the Canberra – had been towed to the centre of the hangar and that the portable blast wall had been placed securely behind it. A jet engine is noisy and very powerful, and the last thing anybody wanted was damage to the hangar or other aircraft from jet wash. The plan was to light only one engine, taxy out and start the second whilst moving towards the runway threshold. This would save time and restrict noise. As additional support to drown out noise, the 1940 RAF flew a formation of four multi-propeller bomber aircraft on a fake training mission back and forth over Middle Fleckney, adding to the cacophony. It would irritate some locals, but so what? It was wartime.

              As the hangar doors opened, the Canberra PR9 taxied forward and as soon as it cleared the entrance, the groundcrew rapidly towed the first fighter to the middle of the hangar. It immediately started its first engine and moved forwards. The same process followed for the second Tornado and within four minutes all three aircraft were outside taxying towards the take-off point. The hangar doors were open for only five minutes and of course, no internal lights had been on.

              Todd and his father were in the ATC tower with the Station Commander. They all maintained a stony silence as the aircraft crept towards their take-off point. The four RAF bombers flew up and down monotonously over Middle Fleckney, and it was difficult to distinguish the jet engines above this noise. However, the take-off run would be a different matter.

              The jets taxied with no lights and reached the runway threshold within two minutes – having travelled at around thirty knots – six times the recommended peacetime maximum. As the Canberra turned onto the runway the ATC local controller ordered the four bombers over the airfield to depart immediately, on the runway extended centreline to the east. The Canberra came to a brief stop on runway 09.

              ‘Purple One-Zero: take-off.’

              ‘Purple One-Zero, clear take-off, wind: two-four-zero, five knots.’ came the rapid reply from Flying Officer Gloria King, the 1992 Air Traffic Controller.

              The Canberra rolled and before it had gone one hundred metres both Tornados had lined up on the runway.

              ‘Purple Five & Six take-off.’ There wasn’t a note of apprehension in Barclay Hunts transmission.

              ‘Purple Five & Six, clear take-off in turn.’ replied Gloria.

              The idea was to make the take-offs so close together that only one boom of noise hit the countryside. It was helpful that the PR9 had such powerful engines, so that the fighters would not need to hang back for it.

              Barclay Hunt gave it ten more seconds and then keyed his transmit switch twice – the signal for both aircraft to release brakes. Normally, all three aircraft would have wound up their engines to full power before rolling forward – but the long and loud noise was deemed an unacceptable risk. Therefore, the jets would have to gamble that their engines wound up normally and that they didn’t run out of runway. This strip was about two thousand feet shorter than they were used to – but the calculations had been checked and double-checked. They could all make it safely – however it would probably be ejection time if an engine failed during the take-off run, as there was no modern barrier to catch them, or aircraft hook cable.

              As Wing Commander Hunt looked ahead, he saw the golden glow from the two Canberra jet pipes and decided that it was safe to continue. The PR9 lifted off and commenced it's zoom climb to thirty-five thousand feet. Within forty seconds of rolling the aircraft was totally out of sight and sound. The pair of Tornados lifted off together, climbed to one thousand feet and disengaged the reheat. A slower and more modest climb to height would save them precious fuel. Nevertheless, within ten minutes of starting engines in the hangar all three aircraft had disappeared into the night. Now it only remained to see whether anybody had heard them. If not, then the fight was on, and Purple Squadron could play it's full part.

              Ten minutes later Purple Five called that all three aircraft were level at flight level three-five-zero, and that the Tornados had the Canberra on their internal radar. ATC at Marham wished them a brief ‘good luck’ – and bade them farewell.

Of course, Marham would listen out on the operating frequency – but strict radio silence would now be practised.

              Todd looked up into the gloomy night sky. He wished that he could be with them on this first mission, but realised that his time would come. He was slowly beginning to appreciate the real meaning of this experience. Whether it was a dream or not, and he now truly believed that it was real, he and his team must put one hundred percent effort into the fight – because if they didn’t the whole course of history could be changed.

26

Somewhere over the North Sea

4 July 1940

              Wing Commander Barclay Hunt sat staring at the Canberra PR9 as they cruised to their let down point, which lay about thirty nautical miles from the Danish coast. This was the boring part. About an hour of twiddling his thumbs whilst his navigator, Ed Brown, scanned his radar for contacts. There were none and quite frankly he didn’t expect any. He was a phlegmatic character, with a First Class Honours Degree from Oxford and an accent to match, and before this bloody time-warp thing he had been successfully climbing the career ladder. His promotion to Group Captain in the coming July had come through, and he had been destined for great things. Everything had been laid out before him and a sparkling future lay ahead. Now this! He was really angry for the first time in his life. Everything he had worked for was destroyed – and only recoverable if they could get back through this so-called window on the eighth of September. He didn’t believe a word of it and was quite prepared to sulk for the rest of this nightmare. This was going to be the last trip he flew. He wasn’t going to risk missing the chance of getting back – so he would feign illness or devise some such other excuse in order to keep him and his ‘personal jet’ safe and sound for the return trip.

Yep, for him the war would soon be over.

              ‘Nothing on the scope sir.’ Ed Brown kept him up to date on a regular basis as any good navigator would.

              ‘Surprise, surprise,’ was the Wing Commander’s sarcastic reply. ‘I knew that this would be a waste of time. A waste of fuel and an unacceptable risk to us and the aircraft.’

              Ed Brown kept his mouth shut. He knew better than to contradict his boss. Ed was a specialist aircrew navigator with almost thirty-five years flying experience. He was on his last tour before retirement at 55. His house was paid for and he had nice retirement pension and gratuity to look forward to, and he lived alone after the death of his wife five years previously. The current situation was a pain but he had learned over the years to accept anything that the RAF or life threw at him. He’d do his job and hope for the best. Maybe they would make it back in September and maybe they wouldn’t. In any case, he didn’t really care very much one way or the other – no one would miss him very much.

              ‘Five minutes to the descent point.’ Ed reminded his pilot.

              ‘Roger, Ed, I’ll give Purple One-Zero a call.’

              ‘Purple Five calling Purple One-Zero; five minutes.’

              The Canberra replied by clicking the transmit button twice. This avoided unnecessary voice traffic. However, unfortunately for them it was too late for security. A German corporal at a remote ground station in Northern Holland was bored, and had been tuning his radio dial to all and sundry stations in order to break the monotony. At 0352 hours that morning, he was sitting with his feet up on the radio table idly listening to some music from a faraway station, when Hunt’s transmission suddenly broke through. The corporal almost fell off his seat. He noted the time and frequency and rushed into the sleeping quarters to rouse his Obergefreiter. It took some doing as the sergeant had had a skinful of Dutch schnapps the night before. The corporal quickly realised that the sergeant was not going to wake up – and even if he did he would dismiss the report as nonsense. So the young radio operator made the decision for himself. He ran back to the radio room, picked up the phone and spun the winder twice. When he got an answer – he passed his message – and started a disastrous chain of events.