What Goes Up Must Come Down
or
How to land a plane when you are trying to do something else!
It is my great pleasure to meet from time to time some of the plucky (or is that lucky?) survivors from WW2.
I have said before that aircrew and sailors have the best stories - the infantry just won't talk. I think that tells you a great deal about the different experiences of war.
That is not to say that the RAF and RN had it any way easy. I think the Infantryman's tale is just more visceral. They were made to behave in a way civilised people are not supposed to act. Whilst they are not ashamed of what they have done I think they don't believe a non combatant could ever truly understand what war really means.
Pilots talk of flying exploits and sailors of the sea. A soldier is the real hands on stuff! With soldiers I get a real feeling of ".. if you had seen what I saw". their reticence to speak directly of their experience is not only to spare me from intimate knowledge of the process but also just in case I don't understand their role - I am not sure some them understand themselves.
This week I met an ex flight engineer who flew with Bomber Command on Lancaster Bombers. A plane my father described as "10,000 rivets flying in close formation"
He told me of his best mate who was a mid aft gunner. On a Lancaster it was the geezer in the turret on top of the fuselage.
During WW2 thousands of these aircraft flew into Nazi Germany and dropped many million tons of high explosive and incendiary, pretty much reducing that country to a bloody pulp. You just flew in a load of planes and dropped a whole heap of high explosive quite indiscriminately. I am not sure how history will see the raids perpetrated on Germany in years to come.
I saw an interview with Kurt Vonnegut who was an American POW and witnessed the destruction of Dresden first hand. He was in no doubt, the destruction was brutal, random and pointless. He could find no justification for the killing certainly not the manner of it.
He is of course right. No decent human being at this range (60 years) could reasonably argue differently. And yet... My parents experienced WW2 first hand. Perhaps Kurt Vonnegut should have witnessed the Blitz, the destruction of cities like Coventry and many others by Goering's Luftwaffe. This was some years before Dresden. There was a feeling that, not to put too fine a point on it, this was payback. Nothing the German cities received was much different than that which Hitler served on the UK. Just scale. The Luftwaffe never possessed bombers of the size and capacity of the Allies but rest assured if they had they would have used them.
To certain extent the German people were let down by their leadership. For Hitler it was to the death. The Nazis brought this down on their own people. I can't think of many administrations that would have put their own kind through such an ordeal. The UK nearly capitulated just after Dunkirk in 1940. It was touch and go, there were politicians who just wanted to spare it's citizens. Hitler had no such qualms.
So when I meet bomber command crew of that period I have to remind myself that whatever the morality of their actions no one can deny they sacrificed much in the service of their country. You have to split their product from who they are and what they had to go through to do it. In much the same way I feel this about our modern day army. I may not agree with the cause but I still recognise the selflessness and dedication of the individuals who leave these shores to others bidding.
So back to my story. My contact knew his comrade had earned a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) at some point but was reticent to divulge the story. Eventually one fine evening in South Africa the two met up and my contact got his friend completely trollied on the local beer and asked again. This was the story he told - Take a pinch of salt if you wish!
It was late 1943 or early 1944. The gentleman in question had just participated in a raid over Western Germany. After the turn for home he received an unedifying instruction over the intercom from the pilot.
"All crew gather aft with parachutes". Moving around a Lancaster is not an easy procedure. There are girders and buttresses all over the place and to travel from rear gunner to bombaimer requires a fair degree of flexibility and stretch. That is on the ground in daylight. Now try it in the dark with a parachute whilst the plane is being thrown about by air currents, flak and evasive manoeuvres from the pilot. To make it slightly easier the crew took off their parachutes and almost literally left them next to the door. There was only one usual disembarkation point from a Lanc. The door you see just in front of the tail gear. So that is where they tended to leave their parachutes.
As the aircraft was deep in enemy territory our hero was not keen to take a plunge in to the Grasshopper club. This was the club that you gained automatic membership to when you ejected from an aircraft in flight.
Our hero was completely unaware of any misfortune to the aircraft so was a Little perturbed to asked to leap out of it and take his changes with the anti aircraft fire not to mention some angry locals. There was the Geneva convention on POW's but you never knew.
the gunner clambered down from his turret in something of a mood and collected his parachute and went forward to remonstrate with the captain. When he got there he found that all of them had been incapacitated by shrapnel and her was the only fit member of the crew left. Well there was the rear gunner but they were something of a law unto themselves!
Elbowing the skipper aside he told the navigator to give him a heading back to blighty, he took the controls and began flying the Lancaster all the way home.
As they approached home runway the injured skipper took over all the communication as he knew all the passwords and such. He then requested a runway be cleared and medics available for all the crew. The tower came back and advised that the stricken bomber should circle for a bit whilst the crew leap out (with parachutes of course) and the skipper should take the plane out to sea and ditch it.
Our hero was having none of that. He had got this far he wasn't going for a midnight swim this time so he took the plane down and executed a pretty perfect landing.
As the injured crew fell out of the back of the Lancaster into the arms of waiting medics (first aiders probably) the station commander strode up in full fury and vented his feelings about disobeying orders to the captain. The captain just groaned slightly and informed the commander that he had no part in the landing and it was all down to the aft gunner being at the helm and he (commander) should recognise the fact officially. To his credit the station commander suggested a DFC without hesitation or wavering from his original bluster. Our eponymous hero was given a ribbon to stick on his chest that night. He had to wait until after the war to get the actual gong (well there was a war on don't you know).
Like I said - pinch of salt. Stranger things have happened mind you.
During WW2 thousands of these aircraft flew into Nazi Germany and dropped many million tons of high explosive and incendiary, pretty much reducing that country to a bloody pulp. You just flew in a load of planes and dropped a whole heap of high explosive quite indiscriminately. I am not sure how history will see the raids perpetrated on Germany in years to come.
I saw an interview with Kurt Vonnegut who was an American POW and witnessed the destruction of Dresden first hand. He was in no doubt, the destruction was brutal, random and pointless. He could find no justification for the killing certainly not the manner of it.
He is of course right. No decent human being at this range (60 years) could reasonably argue differently. And yet... My parents experienced WW2 first hand. Perhaps Kurt Vonnegut should have witnessed the Blitz, the destruction of cities like Coventry and many others by Goering's Luftwaffe. This was some years before Dresden. There was a feeling that, not to put too fine a point on it, this was payback. Nothing the German cities received was much different than that which Hitler served on the UK. Just scale. The Luftwaffe never possessed bombers of the size and capacity of the Allies but rest assured if they had they would have used them.
To certain extent the German people were let down by their leadership. For Hitler it was to the death. The Nazis brought this down on their own people. I can't think of many administrations that would have put their own kind through such an ordeal. The UK nearly capitulated just after Dunkirk in 1940. It was touch and go, there were politicians who just wanted to spare it's citizens. Hitler had no such qualms.
So when I meet bomber command crew of that period I have to remind myself that whatever the morality of their actions no one can deny they sacrificed much in the service of their country. You have to split their product from who they are and what they had to go through to do it. In much the same way I feel this about our modern day army. I may not agree with the cause but I still recognise the selflessness and dedication of the individuals who leave these shores to others bidding.
So back to my story. My contact knew his comrade had earned a DFC (Distinguished Flying Cross) at some point but was reticent to divulge the story. Eventually one fine evening in South Africa the two met up and my contact got his friend completely trollied on the local beer and asked again. This was the story he told - Take a pinch of salt if you wish!
It was late 1943 or early 1944. The gentleman in question had just participated in a raid over Western Germany. After the turn for home he received an unedifying instruction over the intercom from the pilot.
"All crew gather aft with parachutes". Moving around a Lancaster is not an easy procedure. There are girders and buttresses all over the place and to travel from rear gunner to bombaimer requires a fair degree of flexibility and stretch. That is on the ground in daylight. Now try it in the dark with a parachute whilst the plane is being thrown about by air currents, flak and evasive manoeuvres from the pilot. To make it slightly easier the crew took off their parachutes and almost literally left them next to the door. There was only one usual disembarkation point from a Lanc. The door you see just in front of the tail gear. So that is where they tended to leave their parachutes.
As the aircraft was deep in enemy territory our hero was not keen to take a plunge in to the Grasshopper club. This was the club that you gained automatic membership to when you ejected from an aircraft in flight.
Our hero was completely unaware of any misfortune to the aircraft so was a Little perturbed to asked to leap out of it and take his changes with the anti aircraft fire not to mention some angry locals. There was the Geneva convention on POW's but you never knew.
the gunner clambered down from his turret in something of a mood and collected his parachute and went forward to remonstrate with the captain. When he got there he found that all of them had been incapacitated by shrapnel and her was the only fit member of the crew left. Well there was the rear gunner but they were something of a law unto themselves!
Elbowing the skipper aside he told the navigator to give him a heading back to blighty, he took the controls and began flying the Lancaster all the way home.
As they approached home runway the injured skipper took over all the communication as he knew all the passwords and such. He then requested a runway be cleared and medics available for all the crew. The tower came back and advised that the stricken bomber should circle for a bit whilst the crew leap out (with parachutes of course) and the skipper should take the plane out to sea and ditch it.
Our hero was having none of that. He had got this far he wasn't going for a midnight swim this time so he took the plane down and executed a pretty perfect landing.
As the injured crew fell out of the back of the Lancaster into the arms of waiting medics (first aiders probably) the station commander strode up in full fury and vented his feelings about disobeying orders to the captain. The captain just groaned slightly and informed the commander that he had no part in the landing and it was all down to the aft gunner being at the helm and he (commander) should recognise the fact officially. To his credit the station commander suggested a DFC without hesitation or wavering from his original bluster. Our eponymous hero was given a ribbon to stick on his chest that night. He had to wait until after the war to get the actual gong (well there was a war on don't you know).
Like I said - pinch of salt. Stranger things have happened mind you.
No comments:
Post a Comment