PDA

View Full Version : Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II


Pages : 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 [11] 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52

pbeach
10th Apr 2012, 14:43
RIP Cliff, it was a pleasure knowing you.

ExAscoteer
10th Apr 2012, 16:04
It was Cliff who put me in touch with Paula Denson in Ponca City which resulted in me purchasing her book: 'The RAF in Oklahoma'. I will be eternally grateful to him for that - the book has 2 photo's of my late Father within.

RIP Cliff, it was a pleasure knowing you, if only for a short time.

Danny42C
11th Apr 2012, 21:04
Bill,

Thank you for your wonderful Post about your Father's last flight - it was exactly what I would have expected of him, knowing he would "press on regardless" to the end. Cross-wind or no cross-wind, I bet they had to wrestle the yoke/stick away from him!

He it was who encouraged me to "come aboard" this thread only little more than two months ago, and did his best to guide me through some of the problems I had with my early Posts (that I was not an apt pupil was not his fault). I hope he may be having a good natter with Reg (and with many other old Squadron faces) now.

With deepest sympathy to you and to your family,

Sincerely,

Danny.

Danny42C
12th Apr 2012, 21:09
Now that the end of my training was in sight, and before I finish with Hawarden, I think it might be useful for me, and hopefully interesting to you, for me to look over the last fifteen months for some loose ends I've left, and for things left unsaid which perhaps ought to have ben said.

To begin wth, why did I volunteer for the RAF in the first place? Patriotism is almost a dirty word today, but that was at the heart of it. Of course we were thrilled to have the chance to learn to fly for free (what youngster, even today, wouldn't be?) But deep down we all knew that this was a job which had to be done, and we young men of our generation, who had the fitness and schooling to do it, must step forward, for there was no one else.

We only had to look around at the devastation of our towns and cities, and the massacre of men, women and children in the Blitz. It was our duty to stop this, and we would be less than men if we didn't do it.

Having said that, I must admit that for me (and, I rather suspect, for many others, another less creditable reason may have played some part. We can all laugh now at Corporal Jones ("they don't like it up 'em!") and at the bloodcurdling yells of bayonet practice on TV. But the real thing isn't funny at all.

Can you really envisage what it takes to thrust six inches of cold steel into another human being's guts, twist it so that it doesn't stick (doing still more damage), pull it out and then do it again and again (against all your civilised instincts?) I remember a terrible chapter in "All Quiet on the Western Front", where the German narrator, marooned between the lines in a shellhole with a French poilu, with whom he at first becomes friends, is forced by circumstances to disembowel his new "oppo". (Hitler banned the book in Germany as pacifist propaganda). As usual, Kipling has the words for it:

"I do not love my country's foes / Nor call 'em ''eroes - Still , / Where is the sense in 'ating those / 'Oom you are paid to kill?"

There was a way out: accept the risk of death for yourself, but volunteer for a technical arm like the Air Force or the Navy, where you will kill clinically, at a distance, where you won't see " the whites of his eyes". Was this a form of cowardice? Probably. All I know is, I take my hat off to the PBI, who had to do the dirty work.

I would like to hear what my fellow ex-war PPruners have to say about this.


Danny42C
 

Danny42C
14th Apr 2012, 19:40
Cliff (RIP), in one of his Posts (# 631 - p 32), gave an excellent account of the Decompression Chambers used to convince us of the insidious nature of anoxia. I rather think that these must have been road-transportable units (rather like the ejector seat demonstration rigs which came round the stations in the fifties). I know I went through the procedure in one somewhere, and am pretty sure it was at Hawarden.

Everything was exactly as he has described it, down to the illegible scribble into which your handwriting descends a moment or two before you fall into a coma (I think my line was "Mary had a little lamb"). My "oppo" took my watch off me, and even when he handed it back, I was still insisting that I hadn't been "out" at all. It was positively uncanny. Even in recovery from general anaesthetic, you have a sense of having "been away", but there was none of that.

Looking back, it occurs to me that, if you have to go, then this is the ideal way to do it! Setting aside all questions of law, morality and religious belief, it would be a perfect way to commit suicide. Cheap, no expensive trip to Switzerland, no need for injections or even for a rope. In jurisdictions where Capital Punishment still exists, no need even to pay a hangman!

And above all, no suffering of any kind, for this method robs you of any sensation of what is happening to you or appreciation of what is going to happen next. I can recommend a session (properly supervised) as an interesting experience; but I suppose they don't do them any more, for it would give the H&S people "a fit of the screamin' ab-dabs!" now.

To change to more cheerful subjects, there are a few relevant facts which I've picked up from Google/Wiki which plug holes in my memories. (These Posts of mine are excerpts from my "Jottings" - see my #2250, p 113 - which were composed long before I got on line. I shall not feed you anything direct from the internet and pass it off as my memory, I promise you).

What did we have as kit, and when? This is what must have happened. We went out to Canada with our blues and flying kit plus the chalk-striped suits. At Toronto, it seems they took our blues off us (in one of our kitbags) and stored them against our return. So we went down to the States in just our chalk-stripes. What happened to the flying kit? I don't remember having it with me in Florida, perhaps Toronto stored that too.

In the States, it was simple. They gave us flying overalls, we wore them all the time. We would only wear our chalk-stripes when we were off camp. I suppose I went on my Wings parade in flying overalls. At the end, they took their overalls back, we put the chalks back on and got on the train to Canada.

At no time did they issue us any US uniform, although the BFTS students wore summer-pattern US kit with RAF caps.

Of course, our train bypassed Toronto and we ended in Moncton, didn't we! But by a miracle of organisation which I can hardly credit to this day, they'd got our blue kit across ready for us (after all, I suppose the RCAF was doing it, not the RAF!)

At Moncton they must have taken our chalks away; we came back to the UK with blues and flying kit only. We had our first issue of battledress when we got back.

Somewhere recently I read that at that time, at least at one US Advancd School, the AT12s had been replaced by P-40 Tomahawks for Staff Continuation Training - to sighs of relief all round, no doubt.

Reading my log, I notice that at Hawarden our training aircraft carried squadron letters - mostly PW but a fair number of JZ. The curious thing was that the PW series ran PW-A, PW-B as usual, but the JZs: JZ-22, JZ-23 etc. In any case, it looks as if only two training Squadrons - four flights - were there and not six.

Reviewing the entries, both in respect of the Arnold Scheme and at OTU, there seems to have been the odd panic to get the hours in, for there were several occasions when we flew nine days in a row - therefore no weekend - and one day at OTU I flew four trips in a day (total 5 1/2 hrs) and three trips were common. I know that is nothing in operational terms, but it didn't seem to happen in pilot training schools in the fifties and sixties.

Next time we'll sum up Hawarden and put to sea.

Ta-ta for now,

Danny42C


Stand Easy!
 

TommyOv
18th Apr 2012, 19:58
An unashamed 'bump' to get this thread back onto page 1 of the forum. It's gone a bit quiet in here over the last few days, although I'm certain that I'm not the only one who checks daily for any more posts by our esteemed contributors!

Looking forward to your next installment Danny :ok:

Danny42C
18th Apr 2012, 20:49
Tommy,

Thank you - your wish is my command ! (bis dat qui cito dat).

My three summer months with the Spitfires came to an end. I count myself lucky to have had the chance to fly them, and even more to have flown the earliest (and therefore lightest) Marks of that incomparable aircraft. They were not as fast, or could not fly so high, or were not so heavily armed as later Marks, but they were nicer. The "Spit" was simply the most enjoyable aircraft to fly of all time. In memory I liken it to riding (or rather freewheeling) a bike in three dimensions. You just had to think about going round a corner, and round you went!

In later years I would put in around 140 hours on the Mk XVI (which was basically a Mk IX with the US "Packard" Merlin, and no worse for that), and another dozen on the Mks XIV and XXII. These last two I disliked, but no doubt, with more time, I may have learned to love. The Spitfire remained in Squadron service at least till 1951.
But:-"They never could recapture / That first fine careless rapture".

A notice was pinned up "The following have been included in the October quota for India". Three names followed: one was mine. I didn't like the choice of words. As a boy, I'd read the legend of Theseus and the Minotaur. For the monster's food the Cretans had to sacrifice "an annual quota of their youths and maidens". The parallel seemed too close for comfort!

We three "volunteers" (you, you and you!) were none too happy about it. The general opinion at home was that the Japs would come through India like a hot knife through butter (as they had through Singapore, Malaya and Burma); our fate was to be certain death or capture. As sacrificial goats, we came in for a lot of sympathy. In the event, we three came through the war more or less unscathed (one got a DFC, the second an AFC, and then there was me) As for the rest of my Hawarden Flight, I never came across a single survivor in later years. I believe that a lot of single-engine trained people were later converted onto twos and fours to help replace the losses in Bomber Command.

I packed my kit and went round with my Clearance Certificate. Sadly, I was never to fly the Spitfire operationally (there were none in India till a year after I got there), and would not see the inside of one again for seven years. But Hawarden had been well worth while. I wouldn't have missed it for the world.

I seem to have had a month's Embarkation leave, followed by a week at 9 PRC in Blackpool. Here I must have been issued with tropical kit, but cannot be as sure about the items as I've been about my first issue on joining. We would certainly have got a khaki drill No. 1 set (tunic and slacks), and two or three sets of khaki drill shorts and cellular ("Aertex" style) collar-attached long sleeve shirts. I don't think any bush jackets were included in the UK issue. Two pairs of knee-length stockngs and a comical large sun helmet ("Bombay bowler"), that was about it. (Underwear ? Forget it !)

A point worth a mention is that the brass buttons on the khaki tunic were not sewn on, but fitted through tiny buttonholes, to be retained by a small brass split-pin. In this way they could be taken off before washing the tunic. Your wings would be on press-studs, your stripes just sewn-on white tape.

I'm very hazy about my blue uniform and the flying kit. I know that I had my battledress out there, for we often wore the jacket over shirt and shorts in the winter days up North. And I cannot remember having (and certainly not needing) my UK flying kit out there. I think it, and my blues, must have been handed in at Blackpool. So how did I come to have my Morland "Glastonburys" still with me on demob? At Blackpool I'd been "in" for eighteen months and must have learned a thing or two about how to make kit vanish inexplicably!

They doubled-up on vaccination and on every "jab" I'd ever had, plus yellow fever. This last may explain a strange visit to RAF Padgate, where I spent a night or two in a twelve-man bell tent (exactly like the one on the Camp Coffee bottle label - but no liveried "bearer" to serve coffee to me on my camp chair!) I can only guess that the yellow fever "jab" was on tap there, but not in Blackpool. (I might be quite wrong as to the purpose of the visit, can anyone confirm?)

Towards the end of October, I was embarked at Liverpool in the Stirling Castle, a 25,000 ton Castle liner requisitioned as a troopship. In peace she would have been mostly on the Cape Town run, so this would be a "busman's holiday" for the crew. From the deck I looked down on the Landing Stage where she was berthed. Every inch of that Stage was perfectly familiar; as a small boy my Dad and I had walked it from end to end hundreds of times. It was our favourite spot, I'd known off by heart every funnel colour, every house flag, every shipping line, and most of the names of the bigger ships that plied the Mersey. Now I was not to see it again for almost four years.

Cheers, eveyone,

Danny42C



Stand still !

Chugalug2
18th Apr 2012, 21:52
Before you leave Blighty, Danny, a quick demonstration of how to illustrate posts if you or anyone else for that matter wishes to. You need a digital image in your computer (ie photos that have been scanned, or loaded from a digital camera, etc. You register (free) with a photo hosting site such as: Image hosting, free photo sharing & video sharing at Photobucket (http://photobucket.com/)
and select upload there and then navigate to your image on your computer. Click on it and it should transfer to Photobucket where you can store it in your "album". There you can click on it and it and a series of links should appear. Select "Direct Link" and "copy" it just as you do text for composing posts. Now go to the post that you are composing, select the Insert Image Icon immediately above the text block (3 to the left of the YouTube one). An image block appears, "paste" in the Direct Link (making sure to delete any "helpful" http// already there beforehand. It won't work of course, so don't waste lots of text in the same post. Just go for the image and keep trying until you succeed or get fed up. Then have another go. I haven't tried it for some time so everyone can have a good laugh while I demonstrate how not to do it:
http://i184.photobucket.com/albums/x199/chugalug2/13OTU-Blenheim.jpg
Well amazingly it seems to have worked, but I must give credit to BOAC for his excellent tutorial here:
http://www.pprune.org/spectators-balcony-spotters-corner/203481-image-posting-pprune-guide.html

Chugalug2
18th Apr 2012, 22:15
In the light of Danny's question, perhaps this image is more appropriate:
http://photos.upmystreet.com/images/geophotos/01/32/22/1322273_4f1ef7e4.jpg#id-982752
Photo title: The old Moorlands factory, Glastonbury
Photographer: Ken Grainger
Distance: 0.00 miles from Great Britain
Description: Once famous for making the RAF's sheepskin jackets.
Category: Factory (disused)

Danny42C
18th Apr 2012, 23:34
Chugalug,

Thank you for the clear instructions, and the wonderful examples of what can be done in the way of photographs.

The factory looks sad now - I don't know if the firm still exists. Their main line was the boots. I think the flying jackets would be for war production only.

Goodnight,

Danny

Union Jack
19th Apr 2012, 17:47
The factory looks sad now - I don't know if the firm still exists. Their main line was the boots.

Morlands certainly does still exist, Danny, and it still makes boots but perhaps not quite what you were used to, either in style or in price, vide:

Ladies Sheepskin Boots | Ladies Sheepskin Ankle Boots | Sheepskin Boots | Quality Ladies Sheepskin Ankle Boots | Ladies Winter Boots | Sheepskin Winter Boots (http://www.morlandssheepskin.co.uk/index.php/ladies-sheepskin-boots.html)

Jack

Danny42C
19th Apr 2012, 19:29
Union Jack,

Thanks ! I stand corrected ! (the boots lasted for years).

Cheers, Danny

Petet
19th Apr 2012, 20:29
Danny

Sorry, I have lost my bearings .... can you tell me what year you set off for India? Tried looking back through the thread but couldn't find it.

Thanks

Pete

Danny42C
20th Apr 2012, 00:10
Pete,

Sorry - didn't make it clear - it was the end of October 1942.

Goodnight,

Danny.

Petet
20th Apr 2012, 08:42
Danny

Thanks for that .... the reason I asked is because I did some research on the "Winston Special" Convoys for another "India" bound trainee and wondered if it was the same convoy. (Your convoy was WS24).

Regards

Pete

Danny42C
20th Apr 2012, 19:32
Pete,

Please post the result of your researches about my convoy (and escorts). I have little memory of them, and would like to know.

Thanks, Danny.

************************************************************

My story continues:

The ship cast off, tugs nudged her round into midstream, the Liver Birds slowly sank from view as we moved downstream past New Brighton and out by the Bar lightship. We were bound for Bombay. In peace, travelling through the Canal, this would be a three-week trip. But the War had closed the Canal route to us; we would have to go round the Cape and put in at Durban. This would put on another week at sea plus a day ot two ashore there. They estimated about five weeks overall.

In fact we were aboard for nearly eight. Where had we been ? To this day I don't know. All I know is that after about three weeks we put into Bahia (San Salvador) in Brazil ! We were told that the ship needed fresh water, and we stayed a couple of days. Strangely, I can't remember whether we still had an escort or were sailing alone.

Now the tropical kit we had changed into a week or so back got a public viewing. I don't think anybody had tried washing it yet - experience with the salt-water soap in the showers had convinced us that it would be a hopeless exercise. So the stuff wasn't exactly in pristine condition.

They decided to use the opportunity to "show the flag" (Wiki tells me that Brazil had thrown in its lot with the Allies in August '42 - no doubt leaned on by Big Brother up North). The idea was good, but...... We would have a march from the quayside to the central Plaza of the town (only about half a mile), round it and back to the ship. in Tropical No. 1 SD and Bombay bowlers. No free time ashore - perhaps they didn't trust us !

You never saw such a crowd of scruffs as the RAF turned out for the good people of Bahia. We got a bit of applause from a thin crowd in the Plaza, but we had no band, and I don't think their hearts were in it. They cannot have been much impressed by their (historically) old Ally. The former Portugese colonial buildings were impressive, and the walk must have done us good, but that was about all. There would have been a big Army contingent with us too, as they had a lot on board, and I must admit they were a bit smarter.

Now perhaps I should get on to a description of our life on board. (Never try to get me on a Cruise - Dr Johnson has it exactly right: "Being in a ship is being in prison, with the added prospect of being drowned"). For a start we slept in seven- tier wooden bunks, in what had been the first-class dining room of the ship. I drew the top bunk of my set, which enabled me to step on everone's faces on the way up and down, whereas nobody stepped on mine, and I had a little extra headroom under the ceiling as well - useful as we had all our "wanted-on-voyage" kit plus life-jackets with us in our bedspace. Such good fortune rarely came my way.

Food was passable - several sittings at mealtimes; the ship had a canteen, but it was "dry" as far as we were concerned. What they did have was plenty of chocolate (a precious treat at that time in Britain), but it was Australian chocolate, stocked up on a previous trip. This has (or had then) a quite different flavour (even though it was still "Cadbury's") and the excitement over it soon died down.

A Troopship was really a floating Transit Camp; the main enemy was boredom. They must have had us out on Lifeboat Drill; there was regular PT of course; we would play deck games; there was the usual "Crossing the Line" ceremony - this involved almost everbody in a ducking from "King Neptune", as very few of us had ever crossed the Equator before.

The Ship's Warrant Officer organised endless games of "House" ("Bingo") in the afternoons and these were always crowded out, although I could never see the attraction. As far as I can remember, the few pence entrance fee went straight into the SWO's pocket. As he was on the ship's staff, he stayed with it, and this handsome source of extra income must (unless he got sunk) have been a very useful addition to his demob gratuity.

Enough for the time being, more soon.

Goodnight, all.

Danny42C



As you were !

Petet
20th Apr 2012, 21:06
Extract from: WS (Winston Specials) Convoys in WW2 - 1942 Sailings (http://www.naval-history.net/xAH-WSConvoys05-1942B.htm)

11
TAMAROA

21
ATHLONE CASTLE
(Vice Commodore)

31
STIRLING CASTLE
(Commodore)

41
INDOCHINOIS

51
LARGS BAY


22
ARAWA


42
EMPRESS OF SCOTLAND



This was one of the more unusual WS convoys, in that it departed greatly from the normal route. At the end of October 1942 the first great amphibious invasion convoys were at sea heading for North Africa from both the UK and USA; hence it was highly undesirable to have an additional troop convoy crossing their routes and, indeed, the focal point of Operation TORCH. Hence WS 24, which sailed from Liverpool 30.10.42 and the Clyde 31.10, was routed far to the west in the Atlantic and was obliged to use the port of Bahia in Brazil, who had declared war on the Germany and Italy on 22.8.42, as a fuelling stop rather than Freetown.

During the passage INDOCHINOIS lost the convoy on 7.11 and proceeded independently; to the anxiety of the Commodore and Senior Officer of the Escort who had no idea as to her fate or whereabouts. She eventually rejoined the convoy, at sea, on 30.11.42! TAMAROA made a more decorous exit, being detached to Freetown on 8.11 escorted by the whaler SOUTHERN PRIDE.

Escorts were, from Liverpool to the Clyde, the destroyers SARDONYX and SKATE, from the Clyde HOLCOMBE, OFFA, ONSLOW, ORIBI and ROTHERHAM to 3.11, the US seaplane tender BARNEGAT 31.10 to 2.11.

Ocean escort was provided by the armed merchant cruiser QUEEN OF BERMUDA joining 3.11 to 17.11, destroyer ILEX 9 to 17.11 and cruiser DESPATCH and destroyer ROTHERHAM 11 to 17.11.

The convoy arrived at Bahia 17.11 to fuel and water and, while there, took the rare opportunity to land troops (at the insistence of the Brazilian authorities) for a route march which turned into something of a Victory Parade for the inhabitants excited by the Allied landings in North Africa ten days previously.

Sailing from Bahia 20.11 the convoy was escorted by the armed merchant cruisers QUEEN OF BERMUDA joined by ALCANTARA and destroyer ROTHERHAM to Durban, arriving 4.12 while the cruiser DESPATCH was present until 23.11 and destroyer ILEX until 25.11. The destroyer NORMAN joined 29.11, corvette ROCKROSE 30.11 and destroyer NEPAL 1.12, all to Durban. Corvette THYME was present 30.11 to 2.12.

Sailing from Durban 6.12.42, ATHLONE CASTLE and STIRLING CASTLE were escorted by the cruiser FROBISHER to 12.12 and then by the cruiser MAURITIUS to arrive at Bombay on 17.12.42.

Union Jack
20th Apr 2012, 22:17
BZ PeteT - now we know why you wanted Danny's date of departure from the UK

What a splendid bit of research, and what a wonderful contrast between the official description:

"The convoy arrived at Bahia 17.11 to fuel and water and, while there, took the rare opportunity to land troops (at the insistence of the Brazilian authorities) for a route march which turned into something of a Victory Parade for the inhabitants excited by the Allied landings in North Africa ten days previously."

and that of "Our Man in Bahia":

"They decided to use the opportunity to "show the flag" (Wiki tells me that Brazil had thrown in its lot with the Allies in August '42 - no doubt leaned on by Big Brother up North). The idea was good, but...... We would have a march from the quayside to the central Plaza of the town (only about half a mile), round it and back to the ship. in Tropical No. 1 SD and Bombay bowlers. No free time ashore - perhaps they didn't trust us !

You never saw such a crowd of scruffs as the RAF turned out for the good people of Bahia. We got a bit of applause from a thin crowd in the Plaza, but we had no band, and I don't think their hearts were in it. They cannot have been much impressed by their (historically) old Ally. The former Portugese colonial buildings were impressive, and the walk must have done us good, but that was about all. There would have been a big Army contingent with us too, as they had a lot on board, and I must admit they were a bit smarter."

I know which I prefer!:ok:

Jack

Petet
20th Apr 2012, 22:32
Jack

I only extracted the information, so I can't take any credit for it ... I just found the site when doing some previous research.

Your other point is well made .... you get a far better insight into life as it really was from the contributors on here than you do from official records; as I have said before this thread has been priceless in our research.

................. so lets keep it going

Danny42C
21st Apr 2012, 01:57
Pete,

Thanks very much - everything I wanted to know about my convoy !

Goodnight now,

Danny.

Danny42C
22nd Apr 2012, 20:03
Knowing that W/Cdr Richey was on board, and still fondly believing the "Spitfire Wing" story, we waited eagerly for him to introduce himself to us and to give us all the "gen" on air combat. But the days and weeks passed by and he did not appear. At first we reasoned that, as OC Troops (for he had been lumbered with that job), he was too busy with his admin duties to spare time for us. But the weeks went by and hope slowly faded - in fact I don't think I ever saw the man.

My "oppo" on the trip was a Ronnie Bray. I hadn't known him at Hawarden as he was on a different Flight to mine. Curiously, we never talked about our families and home backgrounds - or I've forgotten - rather we grumbled endlessly about our present woes and speculated on our futures. He was a nice chap, and a good friend. Sadly our ways were parted when we got to India: I don't think I ever saw or heard from him again (but I heard about him, as may crop up much later in my tale).

We left Bahia and raced across to Durban. I think we joined a convoy at some point, for just after "turning the corner" at the Cape, we ran into an absolute Sargasso sea of wreckage (from a recent U-boat kill ?), and the ships unaccountably stopped ("hove-to", I suppose, is the technical term). Why - to check for survivors, perhaps ? The silence was deafening, after the engines had been running for so long. It seemed to us that this was the height of stupidity; if a U-boat were lurking about, we were giving him a perfect no-deflection shot.

This lasted some twenty minutes then, thankfully, the engines restarted and we continued on our way to Durban. Sometime in the last week or two my twenty-first had passed unobserved. But we were allowed ashore in Durban; a party of us formed to celebrate the event (and mine may not have been the only 21st involved).

It was no drunken revel, our interest was more in real good food after six weeks of ship's rations (mainly bully beef). We booked a slap-up dinner in a posh restaurant (no problem on our accumulated unspent pay) and ate till we burst. All I can remember about that night is the restaurant ceiling: it was midnight blue covered with little silver stars which glittered in the table lights (perish the thought that good Cape wine might have played a part in my selective amnesia).

All that was mssing was feminine companionship; the only female troops on board were a party of Wren junior officers en route to Naval HQ in Ceylon. Very smart they looked, too, in their white tropical rig. But they were Officers: we were Other Ranks, and never the twain shall meet (socially) !

To the best of my knowledge, there were no ATS or WAAF in India during the war, only QAs and their RAF counterparts, officers of Princess Mary's RAF Nursing Service. The WRNS were all in Ceylon. In major cities like Delhi and Calcutta, the Army had a locally recruited womens' service, they were kitted out much like US WACs, but I forget what they were called. Anglo-Indian girls flocked to join this service, for the chance of "catching" a British NCO (or even an Officer) was too good to miss.

We did not stay in Durban long, and left alone with our escort - the biggest warship I'd seen on escort duty. It must have been a battleship, or at least a very heavy cruiser; we made a dash for Bombay together - perhaps it was after dark, for I don't recall the famous "Lady in White" of Durban singing farewell to us as we sailed away.

The last lap across the Indian Ocean was smooth and uneventful. Indeed, the sea had been kind to us during the whole of the voyage. There had been no U-boat scares. I don't remember any spells of rough weather and sea-sickness was never a problem. But there's no getting away from it, sea travel is boring. When you've seen one lot of sea, you've seen 'em all. Another fortnight , and we would be disembarking in Bombay.

That'll do to be going on with,

Danny 42C



If you're so smart, why ain't you rich ?

Chugalug2
23rd Apr 2012, 08:22
Having been away for the weekend at a 30 Squadron reunion (at its new home in Brize Norton), I find that we have been on a sea cruise! As always with PPRuNe one never knows what to expect next, for thanks to Petet I am fairly sure that my father must have sailed in WS14, eventually leaving Durban in DM2 for Singapore. As noted here:
WS (Winston Specials) Convoys in WW2 - 1941 Sailings (http://www.naval-history.net/xAH-WSConvoys04-1941B.htm)
they arrived immediately prior to it falling to the Japanese. My understanding is, in the case of my Dad's ship at least, they therefore did not disembark but sailed instead to Java. It made little difference, for they were soon overrun anyway. What an utter shambles it must have all been.
An added irony, his job was shooting down aircraft as against his son's one of flying them! :)
I can imagine the splendour of your KD ceremonial in Bahia, Danny. Even with the passage of time some things change very little. Station parades at Changi in the 60s resembled a Boy Scouts Jamboree more than anything, with every shade from light to dark khaki to delight the eye!

ancientaviator62
23rd Apr 2012, 09:44
Chugalug,
I have sent you a PM.

Fareastdriver
23rd Apr 2012, 11:24
and left alone with our escort - the biggest warship I'd seen on escort duty. It must have been a battleship,

Nice steady wartime job. Cruising backwards and forward in a U boat proof battleship alternating between the nightspots of Durban and Bombay.

glojo
23rd Apr 2012, 11:35
I pride myself with having a military type sense of humour and I guess your banter regarding the battleship was just that but...

aw ditor
23rd Apr 2012, 11:37
HMS Royal Oak wasn't U-Boat proof.

Union Jack
23rd Apr 2012, 12:30
We did not stay in Durban long, and left alone with our escort - the biggest warship I'd seen on escort duty. It must have been a battleship, or at least a very heavy cruiser; we made a dash for Bombay together - perhaps it was after dark, for I don't recall the famous "Lady in White" of Durban singing farewell to us as we sailed away.

Danny - Looking at PeteT's list of escorts, FROBISHER could certainly have been regarded as a heavy cruiser in view of her armament whilst MAURITIUS, although not classed as heavy with "only" 6 inch guns was only some 10 feet shorter and displaced some 1000 tons less.

I had to smile at the reference to the "Lady in White", Mrs Perla Gibson, since I vividly recall her singing us on our way on what I believe must have been one of the last RN ship visits to Durban before her death. We had just spent a very rigorous fortnight there and it was blowing a hooley from the east, yet there she was, standing on the north breakwater, hanging on to her white hat and with her voluminous long white dress billowing in the gale, belting out "Rule Britannia" - with two servants hanging desperately on to save her from being blown into the harbour entrance. More for those interested at:

The Lady In White (http://www.allatsea.co.za/army/ladywhite.htm)

Incidentally, I'm somewhat surprised at FED's comments, firstly from my long term reading of his previous excellent posts, and secondly, whilst FROBISHER and MAURITIUS may have been fortunate enough to enjoy a charmed life in the Indian Ocean, many other warships and merchant ships did not, as a quick shoogle with Google will confirm. In any case, both ships more than made up for it later, with MAURITIUS covering the landings at no less than Sicily, Salerno, and Anzio, as well as being there on D-Day at Sword Beach, whilst FROBISHER was also at Sword, and was in fact herself damaged by a torpedo in the Baie de la Seine in August 1944.

"Nice steady wartime job" indeed!:ok:

Jack

Fareastdriver
23rd Apr 2012, 14:48
I appreciate that they were in the Indian Ocean for a reason; an important reason. I just thought that if you were going to have to stick your neck out then cruising in that part of the world beat flogging around the North Atlantic. I am also aware that they could spend six months on board without any shore leave
At least Glojo has a sense of humour.
Just to cheer Danny up. I have been down the Atlantic on the Stirling Castle; First Class, so I know the dining room. During my day it was beef tea and deck quoits.

Union Jack
23rd Apr 2012, 18:32
Trying very hard to keep up with all your "edits", FED (that's banter by the way!:D) but it can't have been all that much fun escorting convoys without knowing whether there were any Japanese submarines lurking along a well-established route, especially when neither warship is likely to have had anything but the most rudimentary sonar, if any, and no anti-submarine weapons.

Anyway, a fair response, and you are hereby forgiven on the basis of previous good character (more banter, as Glojo would be quick to appreciate ......:E)

Jack

Danny42C
23rd Apr 2012, 19:19
Gentlemen, Gentlemen, calm down ! We're all friends here ! I am sure Fareastdriver had tongue-in-cheek on the first Post, and I don't doubt that much the same was being said in the wardrooms and messdecks of the Naval escorts on the North Atlantic and Arctic convoys.

Once again I'm humbled by the size of things I seem to be able to forget. I said......"and left alone with our escort - the biggest warship I'd seen"......What about the Athlone Castle ? Still, for a chap who can forget three hangars (at Carlstrom), a 25,000 tonner shouldn't be too hard.

As to the size of the ship, they all look alike to me (suppose it depends how near they are). All I know was, it looked much bigger than a destroyer. In the air, all you needed to know about warships then was: keep well out of range of all of them, there's no such thing as a "friendly" ship, all matelots will shoot first and ask questions afterwards - and you can't blame them.

EDIT:
Fareastdriver, I'm sure the Stirling Castle dining saloon was back to peacetime splendour in your day - but you couldn't reach up and touch the ceiling from your chair, could you !

Thank you all for your interest,

Danny.

Danny42C
23rd Apr 2012, 23:04
To: PPRuNe Pop, Padhist and fredjhh.

Some thoughts now that Reg and Cliff have, sadly, left us, of the few active remaining contributors who gained their pilots' brevets in WWII.

Paddy, you joined the club in October, 2003.

Fred, you joined February, 2010, and you're the Oldest Inhabitant.

I'm the "sprog" here, as I joined only in January this year. It ill behoves me to take the lead, but things have to be said.

Long term, there's no future in this Thread unless we can get more old- timers to join. The only hopes for getting more pilots seem to be for PPRuNe personal publicity at Squadron reunions and the like, and for Mr Nigel Marshall to make it a precondition for the "Project Propellers" guests before he lets them in to the cockpit (only joking ! - but it's not a bad idea: they owe him, after all).

The only other thing I can think of is (as I've previously suggested): the next generation has to buy a dictaphone and make or bribe Great/Gran/Dad into talking - provided always that he is noch geistig (still has all his marbles) - as Cliff's German correspondent delicately put it some time ago. The Clock is Ticking, chaps.

Next, it must be opened to all trades, aircrew and ground - for all have a tale to tell of their first, bewildering days and the years that followed This may well have to lead to a name change ("The Last of the Many") ?

In the long term, we'll all be dead. In the short term, I could do with some back-up (even Horatius didn't have to hold the bridge on his own). Paddy, way back you mentioned dive bombing by night. As one who had some small skill in that art by day, this raises the hair on the back of my neck. Could you please tell us more about it ? And the blind-landing business can't have been roses all the way. Things must have gone wrong. Let's hear about them.

Fred (your #2402 p.121): "I'd been on the run for six weeks". There must be two thousand words there - and then all your POW experiences - we love those, even though we hug ourselves with "there-but-for-the-grace-of-God-go-I" relief.

This is important. Time is pressing. What do you all think might be done to save this Thread ? Or shall we just let it die ? I throw it open - don't just study the polish on your toecaps and say "Good Lord - is that the time ?"

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C

26er
24th Apr 2012, 09:28
DIVE BOMBING AT NIGHT At the time of the Confrontation it was thought that Komar class ships of the Indons could sneak out from the islands sixty or so miles south of Singapore and wreak havoc in the harbour. To counter these fast ships some bright spark thought that by dropping flares "behind" them to silhouette the target Hunters of 20 Sqn could make dive attacks using 60lb rockets. They tried it with their two seat T7 and frightened themselves. Release height is 800ft in a 60 degree dive with a six g recovery. From the bowels of FEAF an ancient aviator surfaced to say that he had done it in Beaufighters. It was called "Lightstrike" and a significant number of his oppos were lost through flying into the sea. And in any case there were only some dozen flares available in the theatre so the idea was a dead duck.

Bob Wyer
24th Apr 2012, 11:31
249 (Gold Coast) Sqn were still acting as Target marker Sqn with 4.5 inch recce flares and 8 inch Lepus flares allied with 250/1000 lb target Indicators up to the disbandment of the NEAF Strike Wing in March 1969.

El Adem main target at night from the nose of a Canberra B16 at approx 400 feet certainly stimulates the enthusiasm!!!

Pom Pax
24th Apr 2012, 17:25
To continue the digression, my late Uncle (not in the mob but R.A. A.A.) travelled this route, his observations were they thought they were off to North Africa but every dock worker in Liverpool seemed to know their true destination.
He said his ship was considered fast enough not to require an escort Durban > Colombo. Secondly the voyage out (apart from sea-sickness in the Bay of Biscay) was far more pleasant than the return from Rangoon via Suez.
Also whilst in Ceylon every time a Catalina was sighted they had to stand to as the Japs had some captured ones.

Finally I'd like to share a link West Derby World War 2 veteran fighter pilot back in cockpit at 89 thanks to friend - West Derby and Tuebrook news - West Derby & Tuebrook - Liverpool Communities - Liverpool Echo (http://www.liverpoolecho.co.uk/liverpool-communities/west-derby-tuebrook/west-derby-tuebrook-news/2012/04/10/west-derby-world-war-2-veteran-fighter-pilot-back-in-cockpit-at-89-thanks-to-friend-100252-30729927/)
Apparently Cliff did most of the flying, this was only a week before he pasted away.

TommyOv
24th Apr 2012, 19:37
Pom Pax, what a fantastic link! Thanks for sharing. It's gratifying to know that Cliff was well enough to be aviating right up to the end. Huge thanks must also go to his friend Jim Coleman; Jim, I hope you've been following the thread!

Danny, good on you for taking up the mantle . Clearly there is no-one who wants this thread to die, all I can offer is to fully endorse your suggestions to throw the thread open to all who have something to offer. In fact, I'm sure we've had a few ground crew chaps on here already.

For my part I can spread the word of PPRuNe at my RAuxAF squadron Association's reunion in June, and see if any of the distinguished old boys will take the bait!

Danny42C
25th Apr 2012, 00:57
"An' the dawn comes up like thunder outer China 'crost the Bay" (Kipling: Mandalay)
I wasn't in the Bay of Bengal of Kipling's fancy, but two thousand miles West in the Arabian Sea. No matter, I could see the force of what he wrote. We'd been eight long weeks in the Stirling Castle and were due to dock in Bombay that morning.

Up at first light, like children on Christmas morn, a group of us had gathered on the foredeck to watch the sun rise over the ship's bows. It was a clear golden dawn, not a wisp of cloud in the sky or on the horizon. Slowly, out of a flat-calm sea, inched up the biggest, blazing red-gold sun I've ever seen - or ever would see - magnified by the dust haze over the land ahead.

We gazed in silence as the first waves of heat broke across the cool decks. Years later I watched many a clear sunset off the Malabar coast, trying to catch a glimpse of the mythical "Green Flash". This you are supposed to see if you look at the exact moment (but no sooner) as the sun disappears. But I never saw a sun so magnificent as on that December morning.

*****************
At this point, I propose to go off Thread and ride one of my favourite hobby-horses. (If Mr Moderator doesn't like it, I shan't mind if he chops it out). In these pages I shall have nothing to do with Mumbai, Kolkata and Chennai et al (was poor Delhi hiding behind the sofa when the new names were being given out ?)

As far as I'm concerned, the good people of Bombay can call it what they like in Marathi, and I don't mind. Why should it trouble them what we call it in English ? After all, we say London and Paris, the French say Londres and Paree. The Germans say Koln, we say Cologne (sorry, can't do umlauts), and no one gets on their hind legs about it.

It's all part of an attempt to expunge every trace of a colonial past - to pretend that it had never been. If you look up the main railway station in Bombay, you'll find "Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus". A month or so ago, I was watching one of the BBC's mini-travelogues of India. "Victoria Station" said a sophisticated Indian Bombay resident, without a hint of irony. I smiled. The Raj lives !

Another example: last year I Googled "Chowringhee, Calcutta" and drew blank. (It's like Googling "Piccadilly, London", and getting nowhere). Of course, it's now " Jawaharlal Nehru Road" (after the first President of India). But what was the matter with "Chowringhee" ? It's not even an English word. And I bet, if you asked a dozen Calcutta folk at random: "where's the Oberoi Grand Hotel ?", eleven of them would come right back with "Chowringhee".

And many British place names today come directly from our Roman or Viking invaders, so what ? It's Bombay/Calcutta/Madras for me from now on - that's all I have to say about it. And perhaps I should remind some that "India" meant the whole subcontinent then.

********************

The ship sidled into her berth in front of a massive arch, "The Gateway of India". It was just over a week before Christmas of 1942, and I was glad to get down the gangplank and see the back of the Stirling Castle (and my tree-house existence on board her!) I later learned that the Bombay waterfront had just finished getting back on its feet after a colossal explosion eight months before. An ammunition ship had gone on fire and blown up.

Bit late now, more about this soon,

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


Up to Scale !

Petet
25th Apr 2012, 12:32
Fascinating reading once again Danny.

Had to stop my own research to learn all about the Bombay Dock Explosion .... I am learning so much .... keep up the good work.

Fareastdriver
25th Apr 2012, 13:17
Even now they still call it the Bombay Stock Exchange.

Hipper
25th Apr 2012, 19:52
There's a film called 'The Green Ray:

Summer (1986) - IMDb (http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0091830/)

Some info on the Green Ray or Green Flash here:

Green flash - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Green_flash)

Danny42C
25th Apr 2012, 19:54
Wiki tells me that 50,000 tons of shipping were destroyed, the same figure damaged. The ship's boiler came down half a mile away. What also came down were 120 ingots of gold bullion which the ship was carrying, each 28lbs weight and worth 90,000 Rupees (say £6000 then, the paper equivalent today is £300,000 - but with the appreciation in the value of gold, very much more).

These were scattered all round Bombay. Wiki records that one noble citizen handed in his find, and got a 10% reward. The other 119 bars disappeared (there's a surprise), and many were the tales I later heard about cases of sudden, new-found wealth in that fair city. I would imagine that the dock floor has been very carefully swept over the years, but you never know - a scuba diver might yet get lucky, although the bars would be buried in silt now.

Wartime India was indescribable and I will not waste time trying. except to say that tender souls wedded to European ideas of civic hygiene, sanitation and cleanliness in general, were in for a nasty culture shock. The only way to survive was to adapt, and that quickly. India then was still Kipling's Inda, locked in an Edwardian time-warp.

As always in War, a Transit camp came first. This one was in Worli, a few miles north up the coast from Bombay. If you must be dumped in India, December is just about the best month for weather. We lived in bamboo "bashas" (the 70's TV comedy "It's ain't half hot, Mum" showed them to perfection), and met the "charpoy".

This is the ubiquitous Indian native bed, simple, light, cheap and ideal for purpose. I will describe it at some length, as I slept on them for the next three years. (the name formed the root of the RAF word "charping" - the equivalent of the Army's "Egyptian PT" or the Navy's "Counting the Deckhead Rivets").

A rough wooden frame has coconut string woven criss-cross across it. Your bedding goes everywhere with you in a canvas bedroll. This you unroll on a charpoy and put a folded blanket down, with a folded sheet and your pillow on top. Now you're set up. Out with your mosquito net, and tie the tapes up to wires tight stretched across the basha, or - if you're on your own - to bamboo canes lashed to the charpoy legs. Tuck the bottoms of the net under the blanket (making sure a mossie hasn't got in while you're doing it), lift just enough of the net to get yourself in, tuck it in again, and you're safe from mossies and all the rest of the creepy-crawlies which share your life.

Except the bedbug. The roughly mortised joints of a charpoy make an ideal home for these pests. After dark they come out to feast on you. When you catch one and squash it, there is a strong (not unpleasant) smell of almonds and a blotch of your blood. The only way to de-bug a bed is to untie the string, knock all the joints apart, and dunk them in kerosene or petrol. Re-assembled, even without wedges, string tension will hold the joints together well enough, although the bed will wobble a bit.

There was a de-luxe version, called in the back-to-front nomenclature of the services a "Cot Newar". I don't know who or what Newar was - probably just a place name. The idea was the same, but the frame was planed smooth, the joints better fitting, and instead of the coconut string you had two-inch cotton webbing. These luxury items were to be found only in Messes in back areas like Delhi and Calcutta.

One day I came across a broken "Cot Newar" (that must have been quite a night) and liberated the webbing. A charpoy was easy to come by, string cut off and livestock evicted. The short bits (four legs plus two ends) stowed neatly in my cockpit between seat back and armour plate. The two long sides could be lashed to to the internal bomb racks each time we moved. The webbing rolled up in my bedroll. Thus equipped, I could rig up a bed in five minutes, and get a good night's sleep anywhere I landed.

The option in forward areas (no charpoys to be had) was the issue Camp Bed, but these are far too flimsy to last a month before the frame breaks or the canvas tears - usually because a couple of mates come in for a chat, and all sit on your bed. So there was much competition for the loan of my bed whenever I was off camp - obviously I couldn't take it with me if I wasn't flying (why no one copied the main idea, I don't know). I'm sure you could get the webbing in any bazaar - but as the need didn't arise until you got to the sharp end, they hadn't bothered.

All this was in the future. It was just before Christmas '42, and I was at Worli.

That's quite enough for the time being,

All the best, chaps.

Danny.


Thik hai, Sahib !

Chugalug2
26th Apr 2012, 09:32
Fascinating stuff, Danny. "Take up thy bed and fly" would seem to be the order of the day! When you say it was not taken up by others, you do surprise. The importance of a good night's sleep and the time we all spend doing so would lead one to expect that initiatives such as yours would be quickly emulated, if only by your peers. As always it is the minutiae that captures the attention. In describing in detail the process of "charping" you paint a picture of the whole. Were you awoken by the char whallah, or by a Windsor Davies type urging his "lovely Boys" out of bed? Your endorsement of "It ain't Arf Hot, Mum" conjures up glorious, though no doubt inaccurate images. More please, much much more!

Danny42C
26th Apr 2012, 16:49
Petet and Chugalug, thanks for your kind words !

Petet, yes, it was quite a bang, wan't it ? We had one like it at home (somewhere round Rugby) towards the end of the war, when an underground RAF bomb dump went up. I think the hole is there yet. Probably worth a Google.

Chugalug, "It ain't arf Hot, Mum" was (like all good caricatures) very near the truth. Every serviceman knows a BSM Williams and a Captain Ashcroft. And (if he went East of Suez), a poor little Gunner Sugden, almost hidden under his Bombay bowler ! The Indian detail was good, too.

Char-wallah to waken us up at Worli ? Could be, but I think not. Everywhere else, when you got settled in, you'd have at least a part-share in a "bearer", and he would do the honours. In the war-straitened "Grand" in Calcutta, one last trace of the gracious old days: the room bearer would bring in chota hazri, tea, a piece of toast and a banana to waken you up.

Why didn't more people make a DIY bed ? I suppose we had all been brought up to "make do and mend". If your camp-bed breaks a frame, stick an ammo box under the break. If the canvas tears, a bit of string and some amateur sailmaking (by your bearer) will hold it till you can get a new bed from Stores (F.675 ? - exchange voucher - wasn't it ?)

Serious note: we haven't heard from Fred for a while. Anybody know ?

Happy days,

Danny
 
 
 

Danny42C
26th Apr 2012, 20:23
I do not remember much about Worli, except that water was rather short and I developed a technique for having a bath out of a pint mug (and that takes some doing, believe me). It must have been straight after Christmas that my posting came through - 110 Squadron at Madhaiganj. Nobody in the Orderly Room had any idea where that was, but a consensus emerged that it must be in the jungle East of Calcutta. River steamers and dug-out canoes (?) were mentioned. What did 110 do ? They neither knew nor cared.

But this was no particular concern to them. They would give us railway warrants to the place and trust to Indian Railways to get us to our destination. Us ? Here my memory is rather hazy. I was in a group of either four or six. Six is more probable. Assuming six to a bunch, ours was one of four bunches posted to (respectively) 45, 82, 84 and 110 Squadrons in separate places. This accounted for 24 of the total. The other 12 (which included Ronnie Bray) were left behind and later scattered to the four winds (he ended up on a Ferry flight in Ceylpn).

Next came an introduction to the Indian railway system at Victoria Station. This huge cathedral has to be seen to be believed. Much of India's population seems to live on railway stations, and spends its time travelling in, hanging on the sides of, or sitting on top of trains. There was a theory that fares had to be kept very low - so as to be less than the smallest bribe which a guard or ticket collector would take - otherwise the railway company would get nothing and its employees grow fat.

The booking clerk had no more idea than Worli where Madhaigang was. Go to Calcutta, and ask there, was his advice. Nobody had a better idea, so we did just that. The journey must have taken three or four days, and I'll say no more about it for now as I give a full description of rail travel a bit later.

We arrived in Calcutta (Howrah station) late one evening. The RTO greeted us with the news that we'd overshot our proper stop (Asansol) by a hundred and fifty miles. There were no trains back that night. He found us an upper room with half a dozen charpoys, and some scruffy blankets, but no mossie nets, and we bedded down fully clothed for the night. (Why ? where were our own bedrolls and nets ? Don't know). We were eaten alive, even wrapped up in the blankets with only the tips of our noses out to breathe. We should all have been certain of a dose of malaria, but as far as I remember, we all escaped. Beginner's luck !

What we should have done, and what we would have done without hesitation a few months later, was to grab a taxi over to the Grand Hotel, where in those days you could get a bed in a (twin) room, no choice of room mate - and the answer's "no such luck" - (but full board), for 10 Rupees* a night. That was about 14/- (say £30 today), and on our pay as Sergeant Pilots (13/6 a day) we could afford to live like kings.

* Hereinafter "Rs10".


That's your lot for the moment,

Take care.

Danny 42C




Softly, softly, catchee monkey.
       

caiman27
27th Apr 2012, 09:19
We had one like it at home (somewhere round Rugby) towards the end of the war, when an underground RAF bomb dump went up. I think the hole is there yet. Probably worth a Google.

RAF Fauld. 27 November 1944. The UK's largest explosion.

Danny42C
29th Apr 2012, 20:12
But we hadn't been out there long enough to pick up the "sahib" mindset, and realise that as the ruling class we were entitled to the best. Or rather, as NCOs, to second best. For we'd brought out our own caste system with us, every bit as all-embracing as the Hindu one.

In the British Indian social scene, the Services were the top dogs (although the Commander-in-Chief was, in theory, subordinate to the Viceroy, and the "Civil Power" was paramount). Our power had come, and was maintained "out of the barrel of a gun" (pace Chairman Mao). A commissioned officer was royalty, even the most junior second lieutenant. He was paid by the Government of India on a much more lavish scale than at home. He collected all the perks, which amounted to much more than first-class rail travel.

An officer travelling alone on duty (and, I think, on official leave) completed a "Form E" on which he could claim a refund of three first-class rail fares for the journey. This was a hangover from peacetime, when he would travel with his "bearer" (Indian personal servant - no British batmen), and his horse and syce (groom), not to mention his family and their hangers-on, and would have to buy tickets for the whole lot. The lone wartime traveller profited handsomely from this archaic perk.

A Service officer would be accepted without question as a temporary member of any British Club in India. These Clubs were the hubs of all British social life, and until near the end apartheid was the rule; no Indian would be allowed in even as a visitor (except Maharajahs!) Before getting too hot under the collar about this, remember that there was nothing to stop Indians forming their own Clubs (and keeping us out), if they so wished. But then their Caste system would require an infinity of mutually exclusive Clubs.

There was a hierarchy of British Clubs, the august Bengal Club of Calcutta (think Atheneum) granted temporary membership only to officers of the rank of full Colonel or equivalent. I got in for lunch once, with an Assistant(RC) Principal Chaplain (who rated as a Group Captain), whom I'd met on leave.

The rules allowed him to bring me in as a guest, and we smuggled in my gunner, Keith Stewart-Mobsby, who was still a Warrant Officer, disguising him as a Pilot Officer with one of my caps and a pair of my old rank cuffs. This was very reprehensible, of course, and the padre would have been drummed out of the Club had it been discovered, but Keith was commissioned soon after that anyway, and we had had a good lunch into the bargain.

The status of enlisted men - British Other Ranks - BORs -was markedly lower. Again this stemmed from pre-war days, when an officer would be upper-class, relatively well educated, probably public school and Sandhurst. His troops would all be working-class lads, apart from the rare "gentleman ranker". My father (who had spent the better part of his life in the ranks of the Army) told me once that the troops of his time were quite happy with this as the "proper" state of affairs, preferring it to serving under an officer who had risen from the ranks, and whom they regarded as being "just one of us", however good he might be.

The BOR was treated as a second-class citizen. He was paid only the rupee equivalent of his UK pay. He travelled second-class on a Warrant. No profit in that. And he was barred from the Clubs. This was not pure snobbery; the numbers involved would have hopelessly swamped them; it was simply impracticable.

This meant no social life for the troops outside barrack and canteen. In the larger towns Service Clubs were set up for all ranks and did their best to entertain them, but in smaller places this was not possible. In Railway Institutes (effectively Clubs set up by the Anglo-Indian communities who ran the railways) our troops were welcome. BORs sometimes bitterly referred to themselves as "the White Wogs"; there was some truth in this; any Indian, no matter how high his caste, came below us in the pecking order.

There is dispute over whether the (now terribly Politically Incorrect) "Golliwog" comes from "Wog", or vice versa. "Wog" was supposed to have been an abbreviation of "Wily Oriental Gentleman". How quickly standards of acceptable speech change ! In the much loved "Fawlty Towers", Major Berkeley (was it ?), a hotel resident, tells John Cleese: "Indians aren't niggers, Fawlty - they're wogs " (you'd never get away with that on TV today !)

Of course the unfairness of the social system was a problem only in back areas, where there were towns. In the field, there was no social scene at all, of course; we were all in the same boat, ate the same grub, lived with the same discomforts, saved our pay and made our own amusements. There might be a local farming village, but that was always left well alone - not that it offered much of a temptation, as a rule.

I shall be back on the train next time,

Cheers, all,

Danny42C


Man is not lost - much !

phil9560
29th Apr 2012, 20:28
Wog-Working On Government Service ?

Danny42C
29th Apr 2012, 21:04
phil9560,

Haven't heard that one - although it's true that India supports a vast bureaucracy. But in my time the term was applied indescriminately to all "natives" of any rank.

Danny42C

Chugalug2
29th Apr 2012, 22:25
It would seem that Indians preferred their caste system to ours, though if you are at the bottom of the heap what difference does it make? Talking of John Cleese, one recalls the sketch with the two Ronnies, culminating in Ronnie Corbett confiding that "I know my place". When I left the RAF it struck me that civilians expend much energy in disproving that, forever trying to demonstrate that they are as good as, or very likely better than, the next man. The advantage of Service life was that your rank spoke for itself (though not necessarily for your ability) and hence did not need to be forever flaunted (with the exception of SWOs and retired Majors ;-).
I recall the faded grandeur of the Grand Hotel Calcutta, but it seemed luxurious compared to the poverty out on the street which was literally home to many poor Indians.

phil9560
29th Apr 2012, 23:45
I remember my Grandfather telling me local Egyptian labourers wore shirts with "WOGS" on the back-denoting that they were "Working On Government Service"
Keep the posts coming Danny.

Danny42C
30th Apr 2012, 15:52
Chugalug,

Yes, its glory was faded, wasn't it ? But you should see it now ! (Google).
And poverty ? We don't know the meaning of the word, do we ?

phil9560,

This is interesting - it might well be the answer. Many of these generic nicknames do have a traceable source (eg "Limey") - (but how about "Pom"?) I'm guessing that your Grandad would be in Egypt during WWII. I believe "Wog" was in use by British forces in India long before that. But then the work jackets of the Egyiptian labourers might have been so marked in the days of Omdurman - otherwise they'd be on sale in the local bazaar before very long !

Thanks, both of you. It's just the kind of feedback I need to keep me going,

We haven't heard from Fred. I'm getting worried.

Danny

phil9560
30th Apr 2012, 16:44
Egypt and Palestine Danny.He was a radio technician on Catalinas as I recall.

Some years ago I holidayed in Egypt - his words were 'don't bloody trust any of 'em.They'll cut your throat for tuppence '.Had a lovely hol and returned with throat intact :O

Danny42C
30th Apr 2012, 22:35
At Howrah in the morning, nursing our swollen noses, we got back on the train to Asansol. Arriving there mid-morning, we found there was no way of contacting Madhaiganj, which they said was about twelve miles out.Wherever you de-trained in India, a truck from your unit must turn up at the railhead sooner or later. We settled down to wait for ours with tea, bread and fried eggs at "Wahid's" (the names that stay with you for a lifetime !)

An hour later our truck appeared on the daily mail and stores run. We chucked our kit in the back and climbed aboard. After bouncing along the glorifed bullock-cart tracks for half an hour, we turned into the camp entry road and caught a sight of the flight line. From the open back of the canvas-top we saw a number of big ugly things sitting on it. We had one or two of their airmen on board. The following dialogue ensued:

What on earth's that ?........I'ts a Vultee Vengeance, Sarge....... Eh?.......They're dive bombers.......Never heard of 'em !.......... (We knew nothing about dive bombers - neither did anyone else). We'd all seen film heroics with the US Navy doing its stuff, and everbody knew about the formidable "Stuka", but that was about all. Still we clung to our last faint hope:

What about the Spitfires we're supposed to be getting ? .........You've "had it", Sarge, there aren't any out here....... So what are we supposed to be flying ?......... Oh, Nohhh!

Oh, Yesss !......... Not for the first - or last time in the RAF, we'd been sold a pup (in fact the first Spitfires out there were Mk VIIIs which did not appear till the end of 1943). Was there ever any truth in the "Spitfire Wing" story ? - we'll never know now.

We'd no option but to make the best of our new situation. We dumped our kit in the Sergeants' mess basha, to receive a warm welcome. They took us under their wing straight away, gave us a drink (although I don't think the bar was supposed to open at lunchtimes); It didn't matter that we'd missed lunch, for we'd stuffed ourselves at "Wahid's". They showed us round the place (not that there was much of it), and took us across to the Flights to meet the Boss. We were on a Squadron now, and among friends ! It was a nice warm feeling - we were "home" at last, even though it wasn't quite where we expected to be. But it was the end of a line (for me) that had started in Padgate two years before.

From memory, I think the Boss was a Sqn. Ldr. Lambert, but things were in a state of flux. He never signed my log as, over the next few weeks, C.O.s came and went. Flight Commanders signed for the C.O.s in all the months until April, when it was signed by a Sqn.Ldr. A.M. Gill, who I know was 84 Sqdn. C.O. a bit later. Whatever, I was put in "A" Flight (Flt.Lt. R.C. Topley) to meet my fate.

Madhaiganj was just a name on the map, a small farming village like a million others in India. A local contractor had bulit a basha camp and carved out a single runway from farmland. Any necessary earth-moving had been carried out in the time-honoured way. The basic unit consists of a man, armed with a mattock or spade. I heard of, (but never saw), the supposed real "Indian Rope Trick": in which two men work with one spade, one digs it in, the other helps to pull it out with a rope on the bottom of the handle.

The spoil (20 - 30 lbs at a guess) is loaded into a shallow basket, this is lifted onto the head of one of the village women. She takes it to where it is wanted and dumps it, then goes back for a refill. Another man spreads it out. Multiply this by a hundred or two, add a "babu" to direct operations, and you've got it. He invariably wore a topee, much lighter in style than our derided "Bombay bowler": this served as his badge of authority, much like a "gaffer's" bowler at home.

It was an attactive sight to watch the women in their bright multi-coloured saris, like so many butterflies, moving in an endless chain hour after hour. One hoped that the "babu" had got the right plans. For there was a rumour that the specification for a runway stipulated the maximum permissable dip or rise along its length.

Unfortunately some contractors were supposed to have misread these maxima as mandatory features. And it was certainly true that many runways in West Bengal did have dips and humps along them. Asansol, in particular, had such a bad rise shortly after touchdown that they'd had to paint a warning and a white line across the runway (beyond which you were advised to land).

But Madhaiganj was pretty level. The only thing was that it wasn't paved, so there were clouds of dust in the dry season and it would be just a sea of mud in the Monsoon (but by then we'd be somewhere else).

Next time we'll discuss the inhabitants,

Goodnight, all.

Danny42C


 
Get yer 'air cut ! 

esa-aardvark
1st May 2012, 18:41
Hello Danny,
my late father was one of the people who assembled
these aircraft which were delivered in knocked-down
form from USA. Makes the story of the crated Spitfires
a bit believable for me. Later he served in Burma.

Regards, John

Warmtoast
1st May 2012, 20:52
Danny. Re WOG

From the OED:



wog, n.

Etymology: Origin uncertain: often said to be an acronym, but none of the many suggested etymologies is satisfactorily supported by the evidence.

slang.

1. A vulgarly offensive name for a foreigner, esp. one of Arab extraction.

1929 F. C. Bowen Sea Slang 153 Wogs, lower class Babu shipping clerks on the Indian coast.
1932 R. J. P. Hewison Ess. on Oxf. 5 And here the Ethiop ranks, the wogs, we spy.
1937 F. Stark Baghdad Sketches 90 When I return, Nasir fixed me with real malignity in his little placid eyes. ‘I knew she wanted me to go,’ he said. ‘I could see what she was thinking. They call us wogs.’
1942 C. Hollingworth German just behind Me xiii. 258 King Zog Was always considered a bit of a Wog, Until Mussolini quite recently Behaved so indecently.
1944 J. H. Fullarton Troop Target 95 Don't come at that, you Wog‥bastard.
1955 E. Waugh Officers & Gentlemenii. 323 He turned up in western Abyssinia leading a group of wogs.
1958 Times Lit. Suppl. 11 Apr. p. vi/3 We have travelled some distance from the days when Wogs began at Calais.
1965 M. Spark Mandelbaum Gate i. 13 After all, one might speak in that manner of the Wogs or the Commies.

glojo
1st May 2012, 21:12
I thoroughly enjoy reading this thread and feel it a privilege to hear these experiences which are unsanitised and thankfully not politically correct.

THANK YOU Danny although I feel embarrassed to call you by such an informal name.... :ok::ok::ok::ok::ok:

Danny42C
1st May 2012, 22:48
esa-aardvark (your #2541),

John,

I do wish I'd had the chance to talk to your late father about the assembly of the Vengeances (at Mauripur ?) He'd have been able to confirm/deny the tale (to be told a few Posts later) about this, which was only what I was told at the time (and could be complete nonsense).

As for the Spitfires, there is a thread "Spitfires found in Burma", on the "Aviation History and Nostalgia" section. It would be wonderful if it were true, but I can't believe it. Hundreds of locals must have seen the ?burials? at the time; some must still be alive; how come we've never heard a word about it all these years till now ?

Warmtoast (your #2542),

If it's beaten the OED, it's beaten me ! The expression seems to have gone all round the world. (a small point: the 1958 Times entry is usually quoted in French, and differs a bit: "Les negres commencent a Calais" - sorry, can't do accents!) I think the Times clip is a parody of this.

glojo (your #2543)

John, don't give it another thought ! It's just what the RAF called me - with a very Irish surname I had to be Paddy or Danny. It's not my real name - just my PPRuNe pen-name.

Thank you all for your interest,

Goodnight,

Danny.

green granite
2nd May 2012, 09:54
I was told many years ago that it stood for: 'Wiley Oriental Gentleman'

Danny42C
2nd May 2012, 19:34
The new intake of pilots were a mixed bag. There were half-a-dozen of us, all Sergeants. I think three had come from Hurricane OTUs, three from Spitfires. To the best of my recollection, two were RCAF ("Red" McInnis and "Bud" Yates), two RAAF (whose names escape me now, as does the one RNZAF), and myself, the only RAF representative. Three went to "A" Flight under Flt.Lt. (actually he was still waiting for his "Acting" until April) Topley; three to "B" Flight under Flt.Lt D.J. Ritchie, RAAF.

During all my time in India, we were always a mixture of all the Dominions and the Mother Country, and at the end I had formed a pretty firm opinion of the various national characteristics. Canadians were a cheerful lot, a straightforward hybrid of the British and American, with the virtues and vices of each. The New Zealander was by far the closest resemblance to a Briton (in accent and manner) - indeed, he was often mistaken for one. I only came across one South African out there; he was a very nice chap, but, accent aside, seemed rather dour - rather like a Scot. The Aussies were, of course, sui generis as always !

(That should bring something raining down on my luckless head !)

Later in the war, I served several months on 8 Squadron of (for a very short time) the Royal Indian Air Force. There is no such thing as an "Indian"(ethnically speaking). There are hundreds of different races, with different beliefs, practices and mother tongues (I read somewhere that there are more different spoken languages in the subcontinent than in the rest of the world put together).

Of course, in the RIAF we all spoke English, and in those days we had Muslim and Sikh (Hindu) pilots and crews happily serving together. Sadly, a few years later, they would be at each other's throats in the first of four wars.

110 Squadron had only been at at Madhaiganj a few weeks, had just got their new aircraft, and were puzzling out what to do with them. There were more Vengeances - it may have been 84 Squadron - and some American C-46 Curtis "Commandos". This was a sort of big, fat Dakota. What they did, I dont't know, it may have been just a holding unit. They must have had their own Messes over on the far side, for we never came in contact with them.

There seemed to be little or no Station organisation, I cannot remember any Wing Commander or Group Captain. The Squadron commanders seemed to run the place as they wished. There must have been some sort of S.Ad.O. to supervise the Govt. of India Works & Bricks people and the contractor who would do all the catering for the Messes. Everthing else would be done at Squadron level; we had our own M.O. and his minions, our own Accountant Officer, our own M.T. , etc. The simple domestic tasks - like the bhisti, the punkah-wallah and dhobi-wallah - were organised by your "bearer", and that was a matter of personal arrangement.

The Sergeants lived communally, about a dozen to a basha. We got ourseves organised. Two sergeants would share a local "bearer" between them. The Rs20 a month we paid him (between us) was a fleabite on our pay (about Rs280), but as much as a local Indian doctor might hope to get.

Your bearer was your "Jeeves". He looked after your kit, your laundry, cleaned shoes and buttons (not that there was much of that), made your bed, ran errands and generally made life easy for you. He had the miraculous faculty of being able to make a char-wallah appear on demand at almost any hour of day or night. We ate quite well in the Sergeants' Mess, even if there was a lot of curry and it was better not to ask what creature had been sacrificed.

Our daily routine didn't vary much. At sundown you stripped off the sweat-soaked bush jacket or shirt, shorts and socks of the day, showered and changed into clean (long-sleeved) shirt or bush jacket and slacks, and you were ready for a John Collins in the Mess before dinner. (There was no need for underwear; and it would only give you "dhobi rash" if you wore it. This affliction was treated with "Gentian Violet"; in the showers you would give a display colourful enough to rival any baboon's backside).

At this point I should mention that we were very happy wearing shorts, even if we did look like an overgrown troop of Boy Scouts. They are far more comfortable than slacks in the heat of the day; our American allies greatly envied us in this respect.

It was a rule that ankles and wrists must be covered after dark; they are the favourite points of attack for the malaria mossie; I suppose that the superficial veins there are easier for the beastie to dig down to. Even with all the precautions and the daily mepacrine tablet, everybody got malaria at least once, and some several times, while out there. It was regarded as no more serious than
(and felt like) a bad dose of 'Flu. It put you on your back for a fortnight, and you weren't much use for a week or two after that.


On which cheerful note,

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C.



Keep on taking the tablets !

Danny42C
5th May 2012, 21:37
A near perfect arrangement was the dhobi (laundry man). He came round every morning, collected your slacks and shorts (khaki drill), bush jackets and shirts (khaki cellular), plus anything else that needed washing. Next day it would all come back, beautifully washed and pressed. It only cost a few annas (pennies in old money). Your bearer organised it (and no doubt took his cut).

The job was done by the dhobi-wallah's womenfolk, who took it down to the river and thrashed the dirt out on a flat stone. Soap would cost money and it had always been done that way. You might wonder how long cotton drill lasted under this treatment. A long time, provided it was made in India. The tropical kit issued to us in UK was rubbish. The stuff had no guts, was rough, poorly cut and the khaki dye faded to a sort of pale yellowish buff after a few washes. The shorts hung baggily down below the knee.

One of the first things the new arrival did was to chuck this stuff away (together with the Bombay bowler), having ordered tailor-made khaki drill and cellular kit for a few rupees - 24 hr service - from the dherzi (tailor) in the local bazaar. Your Service cap was all the protection you needed from the sun, (and most people got hold of the Aussie " Bush" hat which could more easily be screwed up and shoved in some corner of the cockpit).

84 Squadron had a F/O Hartnell. At that time the Queen's dressmaker firm was Norman Hartnell, so of course he was "dherzi" Hartnell from then on !

As an officer, life was a little more luxurious, you had your own room and bearer, and slightly better facilities in your Mess. There wasn't much drinking. For a start, there was no beer. The war had cut off supplies of "India Pale Ale" and the like from home. Beer was brewed in some hill stations ("Murree") was one name, but there was no container then known to man which could hold it for more than 100 miles on rail before it exploded.

We fell back on spirits, fruit squashes and soft drinks. There was an Indian made gin - "Carew's" - and "Rosa" rum. Both were palatable in long drinks ("John Collins" was a favourite), but you had to be careful - any excess would bring a vicious hangover. We bought locally distilled whiskies and brandies (they burned with a beautiful hot blue flame). This jungle juice was not to be taken internally, but used in place of meths to fire-up the incandescent pressure lamps used in Messes (you might have one in your basha if you were lucky). There was no electricity, of course.

These pressure lamps gave a blinding light, attracting hordes of large flying insects - there was one beetle which appeared just before the Monsoon - it looked about the size of a golfball; this could give you quite a crack on the head if it flew into you at full throttle. Each basha had a humble hurricane lamp or two; this gave a poorer glow, just enough for you to visit the facilities after dark.

These would be of the "deep-trench" variety, or if "en suite", the "Thunderbox" (you might think that could not be bettered for onomatopoeia, but the Germans go one better with plumpklo). In lieu of water borne sanitation, the Hindu system has a special Caste of "sweeper", a hereditary profession to which is reserved the unpleasant but necessary task of emptying these receptacles. The Deep Trench Latrine (shades of a boring lecture on a warm Newquay afternoon) is worth a Post or two by itself and maybe it will get one.

Ablutions were communal, the bhisti (water carrier -remember Gunga Din ?) brought up hot and cold water and you just got on with it. I recall that, in most places, we rigged up a shower with a four-gallon can punched with a few holes, hung from a bamboo tripod.

These cans were everywhere. Coming with petrol or kerosene, the empties were used for water and almost everything else. The top was cut out, a piece of wood nailed across as a handle, and you had a bucket. They were halved longways to make bowls, file trays for the orderly room and drip trays for the mechanics. The bhisti used them. Half fill with water, put a blow-lamp to it, and you soon had a brew of tea.

Not that you often needed to do that. The char-wallah (really should be chai-wallah) turned up like magic in response to a call, and you soon acquired a taste for his brew. This was water (of doubtful provenance, but hopefully sterilised by boiling), tea, milk (buffalo), ghur (unrefined sugar), all boiled up together over glowing charcoal under the base of his urn. This hung from one end of a milkmaid style yoke, balanced by a tin box containing a washing-up bowl for pinki pani ( a disinfectant solution of potassium permanganate), cakes and his stock of glasses (no cups). The glasses were cut-down bottles, edges ground smooth. Carrying all this fore-and-aft, the charwallah got rich quick at two annas a glass.


More in a day or two,

Cheers,

Danny42C

All in the day's work !

Danny42C
9th May 2012, 21:54
Now after all this, you must be wondering what we might be doing in our spare time. Flying, perhaps ? It is time to introduce the Star of the Show:

"You men call yourselves the Forgotten Army.....You've not been forgotten.....It's just that no one's ever heard of you !"
(General "Bill" Slim to his troops of the 14th Army in Burma).

Much the same might be said of the Vultee "Vengeance" aircraft which the RAF and Indian Air Force flew in support of that Army during the Burmese campaigns of 1942-44.

A few of our warbirds are still household names, like the "Spitfire" and "Lancaster". (I often wonder why the US does not honour its Douglas SBD "Dauntless" as we do our "Spitfire". Single-handed, that aircraft won them the battle of Midway, and so turned the tide of the Pacific war, which up to then had gone Japan's way after Pearl Harbor).

But most of the aircraft of those days are remembered now only by the nonagenarians who flew or serviced them, and by boys of the time (and later) whose bedrooms were festooned with model aircraft. They and their memories are fading into the mists, and I think it time to put down this memorial of my cantankerous old steed before the same happens to us. I don't think any Vengeance exist in the world today, and photographs are rare, but it was similar in size and general appearance to the US Navy Grumman "Avenger" of the same era, of which examples (at the time of first writing in 2000) were still flying (and much the same size and weight as our Fairey "Barracuda").

A great deal of what follows is no more than hearsay from those days. I had no means then, and have no means now, of verifying what I was told. We lived a happy-go-lucky life, going where we were sent, and flying what they gave us to fly, without bothering our heads about the aircraft's political background or production history. It was there and we flew it. Consequently I cannot guarantee any of my facts. But it was such a good story that it ought to be true. So here goes.

The Luftwaffe had a great deal of success with their JU-87 "Stuka" in the early days of the war. There is a lot to be said for the dive-bomber. Until the advent of modern guided weapons, it was by far the most accurate way to deliver a bomb. And in those pre-atomic days, a miss with the old "iron bomb" was usually as good as a mile. (Unless your target was a city, big enough for a navigator to find and too big for a bomb-aimer to miss - within reason - post-war Bomber Command analysis calculated an average error of several miles.)

But if you need to destroy a bridge, say, or a ship, a bomb a hundred yards off was a waste of time. You needed accuracy, and a dive bomber was then the only way to get it. People bombed low-level, of course, which meant coming in close (giving the defences a fine target), chucking the thing off and hoping for the best. Results were mixed, but still better than high-level, which amounted to scattering bombs all over the countryside in the hope of blanketing the target with some of them.

The well known US Air Corps boast about "a bomb in a pickle barrel from 30,000 feet" (with their new Norden bombsight) was met with derision on both sides of the Pond:

We mocked (to the tune of "John Brown's Body"):

"We're flying Flying Fortresses at Forty Thousand Feet ----We've stowed away inside the bay a teeny little bomb ----We'll drop the damn' thing off so high we won't know where it's gone !"-----(there are many variants and more verses of this which fellow PPRuNers could supply).

"Precision Bombing" was a myth.

The success of the "Stuka" raised eyebrows in our Air Ministry. Why hadn't we developed such a weapon ? Too late now, of course. Our aircraft factories were busy round the clock with the current types and their successors. But Roosevelt had just announced Lend-Lease and the US Navy had been operating dive-bombers for years.

Better late than never. A specification was drawn up and sent to our Purchasing Commission in Washington. A contract was signed with Vultee (a small Californian firm) to design and build several hundred aircraft ("off the drawing board") to save time. Then we put the whole thing out of mind, and carried on with the war, which was going none too well for us in 1941-42.

More later.

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C



Give it time ! 
 
 
 
 

Chugalug2
10th May 2012, 14:07
Danny, your detailed data amazes as always! Everything you say is endorsed by Wikki (unless of course you wrote their entry ;-)
Vultee A-31 Vengeance - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Vultee_A-31_Vengeance)
Perhaps more interesting though is this YouTube offering
Vultee Vengeance - YouTube
Some apparently operational footage as well as formation air to air shots showing clearly the typically nose high level flight attitude due to the zero incidence wing (needed for accurate dive bombing). A pity that it is little known now, though at least one still exists in Australia.
Nice of you to celebrate the Douglas Dauntless (a rival to the Vengeance) and a good point that it was what turned the war in the Pacific.
BTW didn't I read somewhere that the Stuka itself was the result of the Luftwaffe buying and evaluating a US Dive Bomber and being so impressed with it that it adopted the Ju87?

Danny42C
10th May 2012, 18:31
Chugalug,

Thank you so much - your Youtube video clip is absolutely marvellous ! I'd no idea that footage like this even existed. Over the years all I've managed to gather were a couple of very short shots from one of the BBC war documentaries. These showed one Vengeance being taxied in a downpour, and another, close-up, being pushed back by a few lads. And that's all.

I've watched your clip about three times (and I'll watch it many, many more - for it takes me straight back to the days of my youth!) Where has this footage been all these years ? So far I think:

It was probably taken at the Vengeance OTU at Peshawar; this was set up much later in the war than the time I am writing about. I do not think any of the shots are operational - certainly not those with the full RAF roundels. None of them seem to show 250lb bombs on the wing stations, although many have the racks fitted (one of the shots shows a practice rack (for 4x11 1/2lb smoke bombs - or a bike under a Swordfish !). But it's on the right wing, whereas we always had them on the left ! Matter of taste, I suppose.

I don't know Peshawar; the airfield shot is foreign to me, but it does look like N.W.Frontier country; could be Pesh.

The flying shots are wonderful. I think that they are all Indian Air Force crews. The box-of-six was our standard tactical formation. The shots of the massive dive brakes are a perfect illustration to the description I shall later give of them. FE numbers (on some aircraft) must have been very late - we never got past FD series, and 8 Squadron had a FB989 in July '44 when the game was about up for all Vengeance ops. I could go on for hours !

All who have the slightest interest in my tale must watch this clip - again and again !

You may well be right about the origin of the Stuka design. The pre-war RAF was intended solely for the defence of the UK, a dive bomber is an offensive weapon, we didn't need them. Nor did the US Army, only the US navy did. So that would really be the only place for Hitler to look for ideas, I suppose (I don't know what the Russians had).

Chugalug, you've made an old man very happy !

Much more to come soon,

Danny.

Chugalug2
10th May 2012, 20:03
Danny, I'm delighted that you are pleased! Unfortunately that seems to be the lot as far as YouTube are concerned (Vultee Vengeance titled anyway) but a Google search for "vultee vengeance" at:
https://www.google.co.uk
will produce (as always) many many pages of possible links.
You might, if you so wished, link onto some of the more promising ones. There is for instance one dedicated to the IAF aircraft:
Vengeance Tales - The Vultee A-31 Vengeance in Indian Air Force (Mukund Murty] (http://www.bharat-rakshak.com/IAF/History/1940s/Vengeance-Tales.html)
and here for the RAF:
Vultee Vengeance (RAF) (http://www.historyofwar.org/articles/weapons_vultee_vengeance_RAF.html)
and some of the ladies building your steeds at Nashville:
Category:Vultee A-31 Vengeance - Wikimedia Commons (http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/Category:Vultee_A-31_Vengeance)
Oh, by the way, the German General was Udet and the aircraft was the Curtis Hawk:
Ernst Udet - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Udet)

Danny42C
10th May 2012, 23:53
Chugalug,

What a feast of links you've laid out for me ! I'm even more in your debt now -even though my next Post is never going to get written at this rate.

I'm rather surprised that Ernst Udet chose the Curtis Hawk. We knew it in Burma as the Mohawk, I think 5 Sqdn had some in the North of the area. As far as I can remember, it would be far too flimsy to serve as a basis for a dive bomber development. Fighter/Ground attack would be more in its line. Out there it suffered from a close resemblence to the Nakajima "Oscar": it collected a bit of friendly fire on that account, I believe ( the Oscar would have it for breakfast if they ever met).

With renewed thanks, then,

Goodnight, Danny.

kookabat
11th May 2012, 00:41
Chugalug,

That Vengeance in Australia would be this one I'm presuming? CAMDEN MUSEUM OF AVIATION WEBSITE (http://www.camdenmuseumofaviation.com.au/aircraft_collection_details.asp?id=12) Click on the small colour photo to the right for an enlarged version.
I spent a couple of days a few years ago at that museum dusting and cleaning some of the aircraft - I clearly remember climbing up onto this one with a vacuum cleaner!!
I believe up until the mid 1980s or so they used to drag this machine out of the hangar and fire up the engine occasionally. It wasn't airworthy by then but apparently the noise was quite something. Museum is currently closed (it's a family-run thing and the owner passed away a few years ago) but they do want to get it open again.

Adam

herkman
11th May 2012, 01:43
Harold Thomas and his son Allan, who have both passed away saved many aircraft that would have been extinct.

His example went straight from RAAF disposal and to a technical college, from which Harold saved it and the aircraft is in good condition and complete though some photos show it missing its mainplanes which are taken off to save space. Aircraft until Harold died was run at least once a year and the aircraft would present asirworthy rebuild.

There are several examples which are far less complete dowsn here which may make it to static display, but not for a long time.

Some talk that most of Harolds aircraft could end up with HARS which would be good.

Regards

Col

Danny42C
11th May 2012, 16:49
To: Chugalug, Kookabat and Herkman,

Thanks a lot for your researches into Vengeances perdu.

There was a tale I read some years ago about a complete specimen somewhere in Pakistan. It's not all that improbable. The OTU was in Peshawar, that would be a very likely place for one to be kept if (as I venture to surmise) it is still a military establishment in that highly militarised land. Does anyone have a contact in their High Commission ? - the Air Attache would know.

But why are we overlooking the bleedin' obvious ? This was an American aircraft. How about the Smithsonian ? It was an A-31 (or A-35) of the Army Air Corps after all. And how about Vultee ? Haven't they one tucked away somewhere ? (And my thanks to them for making that wonderful video clip, and to Chugalug who found it, and to the unknown IAF member who filmed it all those years ago.)

We have PPruners in the States. Go to it, chaps !
 

Danny42C
11th May 2012, 20:57
Vultee rolled up its sleeves and got on with the job. Airframes were no problem, alloy sheet and tubing were still in reasonable supply; one aircraft of that era was much like another to build. Engines were another matter. Vultee, like most aircraft makers, bought them in, and with US rearmament in full swing, they were scarce as hen's teeth. Vultee's scouts scoured the land, and struck oil in Galveston (Texas). Several hundred Wright "Double Cyclone" radials sitting on the dockside, quietly rusting away and looking for a good home.

These engines had a chequered history. They had been ordered by the French to power one of their new fighter designs, but by the time they had been delivered, France had collaped. This batch would have fallen into Nazi hands had someone not had the sense to load them back on one of the last freighters to leave Bordeaux for the States.

There they were dumped until Vultee found them. Possession would be nine-tenths of the law and the question of ownership could wait. My guess is that Wright (the makers) had been paid in advance, so they weren't interested, and the French were in no position to ask for their money back. Whatever, Vultee paid the storage charges, carried off their finds in triumph and the production line started to roll.

In due course our man in Washington had a knock on his door. "Your aircraft are ready for delivery". He took a hard look at what he (or his predecessor) had ordered, and turned pale. It looked a proper turkey.

The glory days of the Stuka were two years past. The "cons" of the dive bomber were now as clear as the "pros" had been before. It has to be "built like a battleship", immensely strong, to resist the stresses of the dive and pull-out. Strong means heavy, and you end up with a machine too clumsy to fight and too slow to run away. It can survive only under cover of complete air superiority, which the Germans had (over Poland and France) in 1939-40. In the Battle of Britain they lost it, and the Stuka then became easy meat for the Hurricane and Spitfire.

This thing we'd got was clearly going to be of no use in the European theatre. The great Sir Basil Embry, later C-in-C of Fighter Command, wrote in one of his books that he airtested one and found it inferior to our Fairey "Battle", which had been massacred in France in 1940. I believe Boscombe Down got one and reached the same conclusion.

We suggested to the U.S.A.A.C. that they might like to take it off our hands: the offer was politely declined. A use had to be found for it somehow. A handful were kept in Britain as target tugs ("Skid Row" for a military aircraft).

There was in those days a recognised pecking order for the allocation of military equipment. Anything we didn't want in Britain was passed on to the Middle East. What they didn't need or couldn't use was left on the ship and went on, through the Canal or round the Cape, to the end of the line - India.

You will not be surprised to learn that our white elephants turned up in Karachi, and then passed on to the big RAF Maintenance Unit at Mauripur. They had travelled "CKD" ("completely knocked down"), like flat-pack kits, and (guess what) - the paperwork and assembly manuals had been lost in transit.

The Chief Technical Officer at Mauripur rose to the occasion. He had a hangar cleared, a set of crates opened and the contents spread out on the floor. A giant three-dimensional jigsaw then began: it was a case of "here, Fred, this bit looks as if it should go on there". Gradually an aircraft took shape and at last they only had a few pieces left over. They got the engine running and pencilled in a date for the first flight of their ugly duckling.

They then looked round for a test pilot, but curiously all their regular people seemed to be on leave or had suddenly succumbed to some local ailment. At last a newcomer was found skulking in his tent. His pleas fell on deaf ears. "Pilot, aincher ?" they said, " Aircraft, innit ?" "Fly !" Consigning his soul to his Maker, our reluctant hero strapped himself in and managed to get up and down in one piece. The disappointed crowd drifted away.

What's well begun is half done !

Goodnight, all.

Danny42C.


There's a thing !

Postscript
I have been looking hard at the Video Clip, and have just seen how to "pause" it ! Consequently:

(Question 1.) At 1.56, No.3 looks like sideswiping his leader before long. Leader has averted his gaze (wouldn't you ?) No.2 is all right. BUT, what is that thing poking up near No. 3's (right) wingtip ? It's casting a shadow, it's real. I've never seen anything like it and have absolutely no idea what it might be. And at 2.52, a chap is rolling over into a dive. The same thing appears near his left wingtip.

A possible answer might be "attachments for radio aerials running back to fin". But all VVs had a short mast over the cockpits and a line back to fin. That's all they needed for the MF R/T, which was all the radio they ever had. There was never an aerial from the wingtip. What is it, can anybody help ?

(Question 2.) Back to 2.52 - he's hopelessly low for a proper dive, can't be more than 2-3,000 ft., must be a shallow dive. The target might be the bridge (could it be the Narigan bridge ? - ought to know, had a go at that myself, but it was long ago, can't be sure). Are some of the little white puffs cloudlets or bombs ? - seem to be all over the shop.

In my #2550 p.128, I say: "I do not think any of these shots are operational". Watch 3.10 to 3.12. ---- Bomb flash ?

My "FE"s were really "FB"s, (after a good look) The aircraft are in the operational time frame.

Chastened,

Danny42C

Chugalug2
11th May 2012, 21:32
I've looked at the near wing tip objects that you point to at 1.56 and 2.52 and again at 2.23, Danny. In the latter shot the light catches a line extending from it towards the fin. I would have thought that to be a radio aerial, though I take your point that there is obviously one from the radio mast to the fin. Could the wing ones (if they indeed exist) be for HF rather that MF radios? Could these IAF aircraft have been differently equipped to RAF ones?
As to the "attack" on the hilltop at 3.10, it seems very shallow for a divebomber doesn't it?. I must admit that it was this shot that made me think this could be operational, as well as the bridge scene, but you would have a better idea than I. I think that there is typical stratus in the valley, and perhaps a bit of orographic off the hill or is that cloud from a bomb explosion? As to the "flash" could it be gun flash? Could this be a strafing attack? Is it from a bomb, or simply a bit of film "noise" seen on a lot of WWII footage?

Danny42C
12th May 2012, 13:38
Chugalug,

Radio aerial - yes, it does look like that at 2.23, doesn't it ? But a few frames later it all goes haywire - flopping about like the weird stuff that seems to be stuck on top of the front cockpit frame. Could it be on the camera lens ? But I must admit a radio aerial attachment is the most likely explanation. It's just that I've never seen one; I put in some 400 hours on all marks except IV, and this thing's certainly not a IV. One of the unsolved mysteries, I'm afraid.

Now the flash. Whatever it was, it wasn't gun flash. The front guns were a long way back in the wings and fired down blast tubes. The propellant gases would have burnt out long before they got to the leading edge. And of course the gunner couldn't get his guns forward of the beam; in any case there would be flash eliminators on his guns provided the original US .300 Brownings had been replaced by British .303s, as they were on all our VVs. A film snag as you suggest ? Quite likely! Strafing ? - you'd be lucky to get twenty rounds away before the guns jammed. We left all that to the Hurricanes !

You're almost certainly right about the puffs of cloud, bomb dust was browner (blacker if you'd hit something worthwhile !)

I'm sure this clip will turn up queries galore.

Goodnight, Chugalug, (EDIT: Good afternoon - broadband's been down !)

Danny. 

Danny42C
14th May 2012, 22:16
(The Customer gets the goods).

Aller anfang ist schwer. Number two was easier and they soon got the hang of it. In the end they assembled enough to equip four RAF Squadrons (45,82,84 and 110), two IAF (briefly RIAF) Squadrons (7 and 8), and a number of Calibration and Special Duty Flights. There must have been several hundred in all.

It went through Marks I - III (with no external differences). I never got to fly a Mk IV, but was told it was much better (I believe they restored the Angle of Incidence at the behest of the USAAC, which would make it a better aircraft, but (IMHO) a worse dive bomber).

All wore the blue and white roundels and fin stripes of South East Asia Air Command ( a red centre might be mistaken for the Japanese "Rising Sun" marking).

The Squadrons which got the things were old Blenheim units in West Bengal, which had been flown out from the UK via the Middle East in '42 when an invasion of India seemed imminent. The Japs had come up from Singapore through Malaya and Burma without slowing, and there wasn't much to stop them now. I think they only halted on the Indian borders having outrun their supply lines. Perhaps they decided to consolidate what they had already won, (which was pretty well all South-East Asia plus a big chunk of China), before taking on any more. It was anybody's guess.

For whatever reason, they called a halt on the India/Burma frontiers (and were never to come much further West). Front lines of a sort stabilised, panic subsided and the Blenheims were flown back to the Middle East, where they would be more use. But only their junior pilots (and an odd navigator) ferried them, leaving their Squadron and Flight Commanders, and the remaining crews, stranded in India with nothing to fly.

The next step was obvious. It would be nice to think that AHQ Delhi planned it all, but booze-ups and breweries spring to mind ! It was a "no-brainer" to put these windfall aircraft and unemployed crews together. Even so, they still needed replacements for the pilots who had gone back to the Middle East. Another happy accident (as we first thought) supplied them. The story went like this:

In the summer of 1942, it had been decided to form a Spitfire Wing in India. The Spitfire and Hurricane OTUs in the UK were trawled for 36 new pilots to fill most of the junior posts, a W/Cdr Ritchey was to command the Wing; he would travel out with them. The Squadron and Flight Commanders and a nucleus of experienced pilots would travel out separately with the ground crews. All would come together with the Spitfires sent by sea at the same time. We would then fight a Battle of India against the Jap invader. It was a nice idea.

How much of this tale we were actually told, who was doing the telling, and how much was rumour and wishful thinking, I cannot say now. The Wing Commander was a fact. The 36 pilots were facts. The rest seems to have been a fairy tale. Crucially, there were no Spitfires at all !

So the pilots were shared out between the four ex-Blenheim squadrons. As I've said, I ended up in 110 (Hyderabad) Squadron. It seems that in WWI, the Nizam of that State (by repute then the world's richest man) had dipped into petty cash to buy a whole squadron of DH9s for the R.F.C. In return, his name was included with the Squadron number; his crest (a tiger's head) was painted on their plywood sides.

One such crest had been cut out of a crash and was carried round everywhere by the Squadron as a sort of talisman. The artist had given the animal a mournful expression, the troops called it "The Constipated Tiger". (I believe a later Nizam was equally generous to the RAF in WWII, but they did not, AFAIK, collect another "trophy"). As to the "Tiger" panel, it must be stored somewhere still if the white ants didn't get at it.

All this took place in a bit of a rush, we'd landed in India a week before Christmas, done our duty as "waiters" at Worli, spent a few days on the train, and by New Year '43 I'd met my fate for the next three years, It looked like a double-decker bus with wings.

More in a day or two,

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


There's a thing ! 

Chugalug2
15th May 2012, 08:17
Danny, it seems to me that you and your oppos made more sense of the "Fog of War" than most are able to. "Why are we here, what are we going to do, what are we going to do it with?", all seem to have been answered persuasively and logically, which is more than most could boast then I suspect. Your entire story to date hints at the massive logistical challenge that WWII was, for all sides and in all theatres.
Even in the relatively certain times of the 60s, the anomaly of flying a WWIIish aircraft around the world (The HP Hastings) was only too apparent, even to those who loved and flew her. Just as in your case it was explained by those in the know; that we would go on doing so until the AW681 VTOL transport came into service, which in turn would support what eventually became the Harrier force. It never did of course, and we struggled on until Harold Wilson bought 60ish Hercs for £60M. Sweet!

Danny42C
15th May 2012, 18:22
Chugalug,

Welcome ! - things have been very quiet.

I don't think that we were any better than your generation in making sense of what the Powers that Be might be going to do with us next, or why or where or what with or what for ! They themselves were at the mercy of "Events, dear boy, Events", (pace Harold McMillan). It is a truism that: "No battle plan survives first contact with the enemy". Perhaps we were just more philosophical.

I can feel for you in your Hastings. The sight of one of these on finals in a strong, gusting crosswind, wallowing about like a galleon in a gale, was enough to strike terror in the stoutest heart (did you ever wonder why the Runway Control Corporal was hiding under his caravan ?) All your Christmases must have come at once when you got the C-130s!

Your Youtube clip never ceases to intrigue. Sometimes the flash appears, sometimes not, once I swear I saw a double flash, and last night a "hollow" flash that must be a bomb. (And no, T####'s excellent Aussie plonk had nothing to do with it !). And who was that joker running around with dive brakes out ? Sometimes your ground crew would take a ride between dispersal and flights, but you'd close the things when your passengers hopped off. I hope he didn't forget and try to take off with them still open. It could have been messy.

I'm convinced the "action" scenes at the end are a montage of several different shots. The terrain he rolls over onto might well be flat, open Akyab or possibly a training back area, but the densely wooded hills look more like Arakan or the Naga and Chin hills East of Assam. That bit could be "ops" (and that's where the flash is). I could go on all night !

Cheers, Danny.

JOE-FBS
15th May 2012, 18:31
Please do (go on all night), we're all paying attention.

Seriously, thank you very much for doing this

Chugalug2
15th May 2012, 22:45
Danny, I suspect the quietness is from an audience captivated by your saga and loath to interrupt it. However, as you have made clear quite a few times that you welcome feedback if only to confirm that there is indeed an audience, can I implore those that are avidly following your peregrination to post to that effect and follow Joe-FBS's example?
As regards the clip, Danny, it can be found by going to YouTube - Broadcast Yourself. (http://www.YouTube.com) and doing a search for Vultee Vengeance (if I post the link PPRuNe produces the same viewing window as in my original post). The author, fmcVlad, has an eclectic mixture of postings, mainly military, and seems to be a Russian based modeller, or that's my take at least. There is of course the means of posting comments or questions on the YouTube page, or of sending a personal message instead. The posting is two years old so may or may not exact a response. All it needs is to register, in the same way as with PPRuNe. If you like I can post a question, just let me know and I'll do it.
I'm sure that you are right about the montage, indeed the whole compilation is just that, and all woven together by Elgar! The "Arakan" hilltop setting is very reminiscent of the Borneo jungle where we dropped supplies to similar hilltop DZs during Confrontation. Ah memories!
The Hastie might have wallowed like a galleon on the approach, but she waddled like a duck once back on Terra Firma and on all three points! The amazing thing was though that co-pilot training culminated in "co-pilot solo" at the OCU, when in time honoured fashion your training captain would have you taxy to dispersal, climb out of the aircraft, be replaced by another U/T co-pilot, and off you would go for a take-off, circuit and landing as first pilot.
The instructor's faith in your prowess was not necessarily shared with others though, who having seen that such exercises were due to be flown would bring families and picnics to a safe vantage point to watch the resultant bouncing arrival fun and games! All such indulgence ceased with the changeover to the Hercules. It had a nosewheel and only the LH pilot had a tiller, ergo no co-pilot solos from the RH seat, ergo money saved, but not that tremendous vote of confidence for young inexperienced pilots.
Finally, I see that Avialogs are back on-line. They have a treasure trove of Pilots Notes etc, and here (albeit the A-35 Target Tug variant) is the RAF one for the Vengeance:
Avialogs - 4348 todo (http://www.avialogs.com/index.php?option=com_k2&view=item&id=5230:4348todo&Itemid=188)
Avialogs themselves can be found and registered at for free (downloading pdf files costs $'s) here:
Avialogs - Avialogs: Aviation E-Library and more (http://www.avialogs.com/)

Danny42C
16th May 2012, 15:50
Chugalug,

Thanks once more for all your help, and for the researches you're undertaking on my behalf ! - In particular for the offer to post further questions on YouTube (of which I know nowt). I don't, however, think that there is much chance of getting any more footage of VVs. Heaven knows how Vlad (The Impaler ?) got hold of what I think must have been private 8 or 16mm film shot by an IAF member. How did he get away with it ? Were the SPs asleep ? AFAIK, all private cameras were forbidden (for obvious security reasons) in war zones.

But I'll try Avialog as you suggest, I'd be quite interested in seeing RAF Pilot's Notes for the VV. I never knew they even existed - suppose they had to make some up for the target tugs in UK.

Had to look up the AW681 VTOL - that would really have been something, wouldn't it ! (when I saw my first Harrier perform, I thought: "I'm seeing this - but I still don't believe it !")

Strikes me your new second dickies must have been brave men, to entrust their lives to some sprog who'd just soloed himself. But we were young and foolish......

Revenons a nos moutons - more on following Post.

Danny.

***************

JOE-FBS,

Thank you for the encouraging words - always welcome. But, while all feedback is appreciated, what I really need is another old timer (or, better still, more old timers) - For who will stand/At my right hand/And keep the Bridge with me? - I'm sure they're out there somewhere.

This Thread - any Thread - must not be a monologue. That is not what these Forums (yes, I know, Fora) are for. For the sake of Cliff's memory - and because I like the sound of my own voice - I can keep going for a long time yet (I hope !).

But it'll be on your own heads (present company excepted, of course !) if the Moderator rings down the curtain, and I wouldn't blame him,

Cheers,

Danny.

Danny42C
16th May 2012, 16:22
The rest of the first day was spent in settling in, and getting to know people. Besides the NCO Navigators and Wop/AGs of the former bomber squadron, there were a few of their NCO pilots: W/O "Doug" McIlroy (NZ) and Sgts. "Reg" Duncan (CAN) and George Davies (RAF) on "A" Flight. As far as I remember, there were no officer pilots, other than "Topper" - F/O Topley - the Flight Commander. But he had two Navigator officers: P/O Robertson and another P/O whom I will not name for reasons which will later become obvious. Reg's dog "Spunky" (which he'd had for a month or so) completed the family. I have a Flight photograph taken in the first few days of '43, which I will post if I ever learn how to do it.

Domestic arrangements were simple. I was allocated a charpoy in the Sergeants' basha (this was long before I made my air-transportable DIY bed), and took a half-share in somebody else's "bearer". By now we'd all got a "tin box" (uniform case) from a local bazaar (Rs20) to secure our kit against theft and the "white ants" (termites) which were a constant plague. This box went under your charpoy.

Stores issued me with goggles, helmet (tropical, cloth) and mask/mike. That's all you'll need out here! (they gave me my own parachute, too). I still had my American "Ray-Bans"; they must have had issue sun-glasses, but I didn't draw any.

The Armoury gave me a Smith & Wesson .38 pistol, and a little cardboard box of 18 rounds. "That's your lot", they said "No more - sell your life dearly !" So back to stores for a lanyard, blue webbing holster, ammo pouch, shoulder strap and belt. The clobber was starting to build up. All this was padlocked into your tin box for the time being, as you didn't need to swagger around armed to the teeth in Bengal.

Next morning we strolled across to the Flights. I looked closely at a Vengeance; it was not love at first sight. The thing was enormous. The Spitfire is really quite a small aircraft. This monster was twice the size. With a 48ft wingspan, it was 40ft long and stood 14ft high to the top of the engine cowling. And now I had better start with a technical description, insofar as I can remember details.

It was a low mid-wing single engined all-metal monplane with two cockpits in tandem. All-up weight was around 14,000 lbs, including a bomb load of 1500 lbs: two 500 lb in an internal bomb bay and a 250 lb under each wing. Two .300 Brownings were mounted in each wing. Much more concerning these guns will be related in a later Post.

An inch yellow line, painted fom the nose along the top of the fuselage to the base of the screen was all the bombsight we needed. Twin .303 Brownings on a hand-held mounting fired back from the rear cockpit (there was nothing to stop you shooting your own tail off !).

This was the Navigator/Gunner's position. He had a swivel seat, a small map table in front of him, above this an altimeter and an ASI. And they gave him very rudimentary dual controls: throttle, rudder pedals (no wheelbrakes) and a stick (detachable and stowed at the side of the cockpit) . No trims and no hydraulic controls. The idea must have been that, if his pilot were incapacitated, the back-seat man could try belly-landing (wheels-down, he'd probably kill them both). We reckoned his best bet would be to fly home, bale out and leave his pilot to it !

He (and the pilot) had, most importantly, a dual hand "wobble pump". This would maintain fuel pressure and keep the engine running if all electric fuel pumps failed. The action was exactly that of a water pump in a caravan.

There was an intercom and a short-range US R/T set. No oxygen was fitted, but then we didn't need it. There was no point in climbing above 12,000 ft for a dive, and there is nothing that high in India if you stay away from the Himalayas.

There was never any question of night flying. We had navigation lights but no cockpit or landing lights. In any case the thing would be very difficult to fly by night because of flame dazzle from the open exhaust stubs. And there were few airfields in India lit after dark, anyway.

The power plant was the Wright Double Cyclone GR-2600- (about 42 litres) -A5B. This was a 14-cylinder aircooled twin row radial, rated at 1600 hp at 2400 rpm and 40 in. of manifold pressure (about +5 lb boost to you and me). This drove a three-bladed propeller (with CSU) of 12 ft diameter.

Total fuel was (as far as I can remember) 220 US gallons, split between five main fuel tank groups and a 20 gallon "trap" tank, which took the fuel pumped from the main tanks and fed it to the engine. The wobble-pump was the back-up for this. In the Mk. 1, all six pumps were immersed electric units, but in later Marks the electric trap-tank pump was replaced by an engine-driven unit (to relief and satisfaction all round).

100 octane was used at 50-60 galls/hr (cruising), giving a comfortable endurance of three hours and a range of around 500 miles. (Yes, I know that Wiki gives totally different figures, but theirs must be "maker's figures", to be regarded in the same light as the mpg figures at the bottom of car adverts ! The Wiki speeds are also IMHO, strictly for the birds).

Oil was fed to the dry-sump engine from a 21-gallon tank just forward of the firewall. Consumption was heavy at 1-2 galls/hr, and had to be watched carefully. Past engine neglect (story elsewhere) could cause a sudden gross rise in oil consumption. There were cases where the whole 21 gallons were used, and the engine failed, on a single flight (there being no contents gauge).

I suspect all this may be boring, and there's more to come, but bear with me, for you (and I !) must Know Our Foe.

Enough for the moment, more later,

Ta-Ta,

Danny42C


Takes all sorts. 

ricardian
16th May 2012, 16:41
I suspect all this may be boring, and there's more to come, but bear with me, for you (and I !) must Know Our Foe.
Enough for the moment, more later,
Ta-Ta,
Danny42C
Danny, this is most definitely NOT boring to this 68 year old who left the RAF as a corporal in 1973 and spent most of his RAF time in commcens, sending & receiving messages via teleprinter and/or morse. My only contact with aircraft (if you can call it that) was when I was part of a Forward Air Control unit with Flt Lt Pete Maillard in 1968-70.
Looking forwards to hearing the next instalment from you

Hipper
16th May 2012, 17:31
You can also find Pilot's Notes and an RAF maintenance manual, amongst other things, on CD here:

Flight Manuals on CD - Vultee A-35 Vengeance (http://www.flight-manuals-on-cd.com/A35.html)

I've bought from these people and can vouch for them.

Neptunus Rex
16th May 2012, 18:08
Danny,

You, Sir, are a major contributor to the most majestic thread in PPRuNe's history. No Moderator would contemplate binning it, as I am sure that they are all amongst your most ardent fans.

Encore!

Jason Burry
16th May 2012, 19:06
CERTAINLY NOT boring, Danny. Many thanks for taking the time to post your memory of these events. I visit almost daily hoping for the next installment!

It's the details of the experience and the equipment itself I find most interesting.

Thank-you!

J

Danny42C
16th May 2012, 21:57
It never rains but it pours ! Again I must bundle my "thank-you's" into one Post.

Chugalug,

Got the Pilot's Notes from Avialog. The cover's normal, but the text inside looks as if it's been knocked off on an ancient typewriter on a Gestetner wax stencil (remember those? ) and a couple of dozen copies run off - there can't have been all that many tug pilots to need them - pity they didn't clean the typewriter keys to begin with.

But, as I surmised, they're for the A-35 - our Mk IV - which should really have had a new name, for they seem a lot different from the ones (A-31s) I remember, and so not much help to my memory. I think our Notes were in a quarto format from Vultee; they produced a publicity brochure of the same size with an artist's impression on the cover of a VV taking off from an aircraft carrier ! This caused a good deal of hilarity: we reckoned they might just about manage it with three carriers coupled end to end !

*************

Hipper, Greetings,

Thanks for the suggestion, but for the reasons above I don't think I'll be buying any CD manuals for the A-35 just yet. But thank you just the same.

*************

Ricardian, Neptunus Rex and Jason Burry,

Thanks for the support, and all the complimentary remarks. (All are welcome here, Ricardian). The more, the merrier ! Coincidentally, I retired in early '73, too. I'll keep plugging along here until somebody tells me to stop.

Goodnight to you all,

Danny42C

ancientaviator62
17th May 2012, 08:02
Danny,
I have been away so am just catching up on your excellent story. In respect of the Japanese Army stopping on the Burma/India border I think Imphal and Kohima may well have had something to do with it ! Others more learned than I could fill in the details no doubt without too much thread drift. As chugalugg has said the Hastings and the Hercules used the same airdrop techniques as were developed during those desperate days of WW2.

Fareastdriver
17th May 2012, 08:09
Danny. I went through Bombay some twenty years after you and I wonder if you had the same trouble with Indian beer. The problem was the Godalmighty headache in the morning caused by the glycerine used to preserve it.
The trick I was told by the old hands out there was to open the bottle; put your thumb over the top, then invert it, immerse the neck in a bowl of water supplied by the waiter and release your thumb. This would cause the glycerine to flow out of the beer instead of into you.
Seemed to work with me.

Chugalug2
17th May 2012, 21:05
Stores? Armoury? Suddenly this primitive existence of atap bashas and flimsy charpoys takes on a new dimension. Did the camp boast all the usual RAF facilities? SHQ, Sick Quarters, Institute, Guard Room, ...a Bicycle Store even? No matter how primitive the accommodations I suspect that each and every one was proudly announced by a suitable sign. The last man in the Service will be a sign writer, and no doubt his last job will be a reminder that he switches off the lights as he leaves ;-)
THE VV sounds a somewhat Spartan beast, Danny. How novel though to provide the Nav with flying controls, was it your custom to share the flying with him? It would seem to be an incentive to do so if he was thus able to get you home in the event that you were incapacitated.
Your mention of lbs v "Hg of boost again stirs memories of the Hastings. Sorry everyone! A NATO Stanag resulted in all boost gauges calibrated in lbs being changed for ones reading "Hg (ie the US standard as per your Vengeance. That would have been OK were it not for the routine for the Eng to set the power on the approach as called by the pilot. So "-4...-6...-4" became "24...20...24". The conversion was to double the boost you required in inches and then subtract that from 32. Easy enough on paper, but with a heavy (and she was heavy on the controls, hence the need for someone else to set the power) wallowing (love that word!) aircraft and a gusting cross-wind, the mental arithmetic soon resulted in 3 degree approaches diverging to 2 or 4 degree ones! Worth it I'm sure though for the instrument standardisation attained!
Finally, great to see the well deserved support expressed by your readership Danny. The more detailed the telling, the more interesting the story. Why a tin trunk? White ants, dear boy, white ants!

Danny42C
18th May 2012, 00:42
Again, I'll have to be like that romantic hero of the Edwardian novel, who "Leaped into the saddle and galloped off furiously in all directions !"

In order, therefore:

ancient aviator,

Dates, dear boy, dates ! The events of which I speak took place in early 1942, and it then looked as if the Japs could carry on indefinitely with the successful tactics which had brought them all the way up from Singapore. Essentially, encumbered by what transport and material we had left, we tried to make a stand on the roads. The Jap just walked round us through the "impenetrable" (as we thought) jungle and appeared in our rear. We had to fall back, tried to make another stand, same again.

This miserable ratchet mechanism brought them all the way to the gates of India. At that point it must have been so difficult for the Jap to supply his forward troops that he had to stop.

Fast-forward two years to the spring of 1944. Now the brilliantly led, much larger and better equipped 14th Army was gaining the upper hand. The Japs put in one last desperate counter-attack at Imphal and Kohima, (much the same as the German counter-attack known as "The Battle of the Bulge" at the end of the year).

As we know, both failed. It was Hitler's last throw; in Burma the allied armies were able to get over the mountains into the central plains of Burma, where our armour could freely operate.

**************
Fareastdriver,

Sounds an ingenious idea ! If the bottles had been properly sealed in the first place, it shouldn't be possible for wild yeasts to get in - look how long bottled beer can last - but glycerine ? Well, why not ? I can remember when potted meats were sealed with butter. However, having no beer at all where we were, it sounds as good a way as any. (Our trouble was in the continuing fermentation taking place inside the bottles, with the result familiar to any home-brewer).

***************
Chugalug,

Yes, we might have been without many of the trappings of civilisation, but Admin and Org must still go on ! I rather fancy that these must have been station-based, for obviously you couldn't drag your complete stores round with you from strip to strip, even though the Squadron would have its own Equipment Assistants, Armourers, Nursing Assistants and so on. We worked in a similar way, post-war, with the Auxiliaries.

The back-seat man was forbidden, on pain of death, to touch anything in the nature of a flying control, and not even think about removing the stick clipped to the side of his cockpit. His business was to work the wobble pump on command. What else did he do ? Well, really, not a lot. There was no radio for a Wop to bother with. The Gunner had nothing to shoot at for most of the time. As for the Nav, we did all the navigating, both by habit as old single-seaters, and after one or two woeful episodes of classic navigation over which it is better to draw the veil (but they're worth a Post). But there were good reasons to carry somebody.

There was a sad affair which briefly changed our minds. Close to us in the Arakan there was a Beaufighter squadron. One of them was hit, the pilot was dead or dying - in any event unconscious, but the aircraft still flying straight and level. I do not know the Beau, but apparently it is just possible for a very thin Nav to wriggle his way forward into the front. Our chap did this, managed to fly it back (lying on the pilot), tried to land, didn't make it and they both died.

When we heard of this, pilots looked thoughtfully at their back-seat men and decided that a few simple flying lessons might be a good idea. But, alas for good intentions ! Nothing much came of it.

One last question for you and ancient aviator, I once heard that the York and Hastings had to be tail-draggers because the Army stipulated that they must be able to be hand-loaded from the back of a truck. Any truth in this ?

Goodnight, all,

Danny 

Chugalug2
18th May 2012, 07:07
It sounds as though your rear seaters were treated in much the same way as our RH seaters; "Don't touch anything unless I tell you to, which isn't very likely", :)
I can't speak for the York, other than to point out the obvious that as a development of the Lancaster its config was pretty well laid down at birth.
As to the Hastings it had a civvie variant, the Hermes, which indeed boasted a nosewheel. The reason that the Hastings did not was put down to the Army's requirements that it should be able to carry "external stores". These could only be attached by access from underneath the archetypal tail-draggers elevated nose. A beam could be attached between the two main undercarriages, and a field gun and jeep could be hung from it with suitable parachute packs attached. The co-pilot had a release mechanism to hand, a glorified old fashioned lavatory chain arrangement. On take off if anyone as much as sneezed he was briefed to pull the handle, jettison the external stores, and it was hoped that the aircraft might then be able to climb away safely from the presumed engine failure.
You are right though, loading transport aircraft directly from the back of a truck was always a prime consideration. In the 60's the competition for a short range transport was entered by Handley Page (with the Herald) and Avro (with the 748). The former was the obvious choice, for with its high wing, its sill height was just right for that purpose. However Handley Page was resisting the Government's rolling up of the many airframe manufacturers into just two: BAC and HS, so was doomed to lose the contract. To win it, Avro had to invent the dreaded "kneeling undercarriage" in order to make its low wing aircraft "mate" with an Army 3 tonner!
The other anomaly of the Hastings that was also mercifully history when I got to it was its role as glider tug. Inside the rear nav lamp cluster was the cable attachment/release mechanism for that purpose. When one recalls that the Beverly started life as a proposed glider before 4 Centaurus were hung on it, the mind boggles!

Danny42C
18th May 2012, 17:54
Chugalug,

The vision of a Hastings with a field gun or (and?) a jeep slung ("atween the roundshot" - like Drake !) makes my flesh creep. I recall a good story from Calcutta. There was a big munitions factory at Dum-Dum. They were losing a lot of stuff from pilfering; the guards on the gate spot- checked the offgoing shift; one chap was waddling along with difficulty, obviously in some discomfort. "What's the matter with you?"........"Elephantiasis of my scrotum" - (try putting that into Bengali !) - not uncommon there, it seemed.

They whipped off his dhoti, slung between his legs was the chuck off a lathe, weighing half a hundredweight ! (Off thread a bit, sorry, Mr Moderator).

I was amused by your reference to the "lavatory chain" which your second dicky had to pull. The u/c handle on the Spit Mk.I had the exactly that same white ceramic handle which graced the "smallest room" everywhere in those days (and vulgarly known as a "bog-pull").

I looked the Hastings up on Wiki. Quite a long charge-sheet, wasn't it? Was in Leeming (ATC) about '69, we had the JP, kindly RAF arranged to fly a body of all ranks to Warton (?) to see the new Strikemaster. Oversubscribed, of course, until it became known that a Hastings would be laid on for the trip. All our lads who had booked gallantly stuck with it, but made their wills! Did not go myself, said thing only a JP with hair on its chest - (Strikemaster, that is). That's my story, and I'm sticking to it !

Them were the days !

Danny 

cockney steve
19th May 2012, 13:41
Thanks to all the contributors who keep this thread alive.
like most, I miss the amusing anecdotes and minutiae of "life in the RAF " that were posted by Cliff and Reg. this ongoing archive of reminiscenses is a fitting tribute to them, and all the other brave souls involved in armed conflict.

most of us "civvies" would have no idea of the comradeship, the bungling admin, the trials and tribulations of being under orders of chinless wonders.....you guys bring it all to life.
long may the posts continue.....thanks, lads.

Chugalug2
19th May 2012, 17:03
Danny, as regards gun and jeep, I understand that was possible, though all this was very much before my time. Certainly jeep and jeep was possible, witness this 1952 photo in Flight Magazine. Perhaps the co-pilot had two loo-handles!
1952 | 0460 | Flight Archive (http://www.flightglobal.com/pdfarchive/view/1952/1952%20-%200460.html)
My client might indeed have a full charge sheet, M'Lud, but I would plead mitigation on a number of points.
1. Approx 30 years service and more than 150 built.
2. Designed to WWII standards (and mainly with WWII parts!). Thus the period between V1 (no longer able to stop) and V2 (safety speed, not obtained until approx 200') meant that the best course of action following engine failure was left to the pilot's discretion....
3. Whatever the airframe shortcomings, the Bristol Hercules 216 engines were excellent, It was famously said that 99% of engine problems could be cured by either an injector flush or a plug harness change, so para 2 was not quite as serious as one might suppose.
4. I loved flying her, so there!

Danny42C
19th May 2012, 18:17
cockney steve - welcome - I'll try to live up to my illustrious predecessors !

Chugalug - No 4: Love me, love my aircraft ! (Same with me !) D


Before we go back to the technical details of the Vengeance, a few more words on the human side of the story.

We lost no time in getting down to buisness. Dual instruction was obviously impossible with the limited controls in the back seat. Really, that didn't worry anyone, for there were no dual Hurricanes - or Spitfires (then) - or most other single-engine things, for that matter. You simply read the book, had a good luck round inside and out, climbed in and off you went.

But they thought they might as well use what they'd got. So the new boy was put in the back seat, put his stick in its socket, an experienced (five hours on type) pilot took off, cleaned up, trimmed it and handed over. My mentor was Reg Duncan, and the date 5th January '43.

I was agreeably surprised. The thing was much heavier on the controls than the Spitfire, of course (is there anything that ever flew which isn't heavier ?), but it was far from the BT-13 feel-alike I'd been expecting. It would turn quite nicely on the stick alone, seemed very directionally stable (that huge fin and rudder), but rather heavy on the elevators. All in all, I could get used to this. Later I found that, for all its bulk and formidable appearance (see Chugalug's #2549 and the marvellous video clip), the thing was completely docile and very easy to fly. I poled around for twenty minutes or so, then Reg took it back and landed. Now I was a fully qualified Vengeance pilot !

Back to details of the beast itself. The electrical system (24v DC) was unremarkable in itself, but the fuel pumps gave us heart-stopping moments. They were immersed in the tanks, the fuel kept away from the electrics by seals of the new wonder material - neoprene. This was fine in theory, until Sod's Law kicked in (if a thing can go wrong, it will). The fuel got past the neoprene to the sparks, a circuit shorted, the main fuse blew, all the pumps stopped, the engine quit and the pilot bawled "PUMP!"

The back-seat man didn't need telling twice. Swinging his seat sideways, he set to work with both hands on the "wobble", a few long seconds and the engine would pick up. Then they had just the trap tank fuel (perhaps 20 minutes) to get down. The pilot made doubly sure to get in first time, for there was no certainty that, if he had to go to full power on a missed approach, the pump would get enough fuel to the engine. Naturally, this meant that you always flew with a passenger, for a lone pilot could not hope to land unless he had three hands.

In the early days, everyone had to "wobble" home at least once (and luckily we were never far from a strip - they were all over West Bengal). Then a replacement engine-driven pump for the trap tank solved the problem. Tail-end Charlies no longer displayed their blistered palms as badges of honour.

In retrospect, I now wonder how that "mod" was put in so quickly. Perhaps the Double Cyclone (which was used in many American types) had a standard power take-off for this purpose, and the VVs simply blanked it off till they needed it. (This is why some "plumbers" on this thread would be so useful, for the gaps they could fill in our technical knowledge).

Having got the thing into the air, liifted wheels and flaps, and quietened the engine down a bit, you stretched out in the luxuriously large cockpit and surveyed your domain. With canopy open, there was a beautifully cool breeze. And (sometimes) wearing a Mae West, over that a parachute harness, and over that the seat harness in an aircraft on whose wings you could fry eggs, you were suitably grateful.

Climb was slow in comparison with what we fighter boys had been used to. In formation with a bomb load it felt like zero - 500 ft/min, I suppose. Life was simple when you were on your own. You had trims on all three axes, and quite a bit of dihedral on the outer wings. Trimmed, it would more or less fly itself. The engine was cruised at 1850 rpm (the magic figure for all the American radials I flew) and enough boost (32-34 in) to give about 160 mph. At that, the engine rumbled along contentedly, albeit rather roughly. The Wright "Cyclones" were never as smooth as their arch-competitors, the Pratt & Whitney "Wasp" family of engines, but none the worse for that.

A mixture control on the throttle quadrant "leaned out" the engine to run smoother and save fuel. The two-speed supercharger was always left on "low". Now there was nothing to do but watch the fuel and engine, and navigate.
Watching the fuel sometimes meant running a tank dry to check the exact rate of consumption. The engine would cut. No drama: a change of tank and a booster pump would shortly restore normal service. Your pillion passenger resented these episodes (especially over shark-infested waters) and would make that clear with many a lurid oath.

When not on "ops", there was a lot of spare passenger room around and behind the back seat (more if the guns had been taken out). I believe the record was five on board (plus kit). This was very dangerous; these extra people had no restraints (often no parachutes) and were bound to be injured in any but the slightest accident. But all this was long ago, before Health & Safety had been thought of.

Dogs travelled from time to time. The animal was put in a parachute bag (that wonderful all-purpose brown canvas holdall) and zipped in with just his head sticking out. He couldn't get out or move about the aircraft, and the bag plus dog could be carried about by the straps. Hopefully he was parachute-bag trained ! As a rule he seemed to fly very well and to enjoy the experience.

No one worried about what all this extra weight in the back might be doing to the C of G. Having no guns or ammo helped, of course, the pilot simply trimmed nose-down and accepted a less stable ride.

Enough for the time being,

Regards to all,

Danny42C


 
We had wooden aircraft and iron men !  

Danny42C
20th May 2012, 22:54
The next stage was to get myself a crewman. Actually, it wasn't quite like that. I was told that at home, the drill was (on bomber crews) that the new nav was supposed to wait, like a wallflower at a dance, until a twin-wing prince came over and popped the question. If the deal was done, the pair then went round selecting the rest of their crew.

But that presupposed similar levels of experience all round. In our case, the ex-Blenheim navs and wop/ags were all battle-hardened veterans from shipping strikes over the Channel and the like, and the squadron had taken a fair hammering. They were not going to be picked over by this intake of sprogs fresh out of training !

So it was that Sgt Keith Stewart-Mobsby (Wop/Ag - and hereinafter "Stew") came over and said "You're my Pilot - any objection ?" It seemed that the deciding factor had been that he wanted a British pilot this time - being fed up with the Wild Colonial Boys he'd had before, As I was the only new one in town, it had been Hobson's choice for him. It worked out fine, and we stayed together, off and on, till the end.

The next day we flew so that I could settle myself in the aircraft and we could have a good look round the area. There was the usual tendency to swing left in the early part of the take-off run, but it was easily controllable. We had a tailwheel lock, but it wasn't necessary and most people left it unlocked all the time. Once the tail was up, you had complete control with that enormous fin, and the rare pleasure of being able to see fairly well over the nose (come to think of it, it was the only time you could do so, except when you were pointed straight down).

The acceleration was poor; there were always complaints about the long take-off run, but eventually you wound it up to about 95 mph (a bit more if you were bombed-up), eased back into a three-point attitude and lumbered off reluctantly into the sky. Much like a 747 out of Heathrow today! - (don't you just look at them inching across the sky, and wonder: "How on Earth"?)

Putting it back was not difficult, provided you came in on a wide curve (no "Spitfire Approach" here !), and slowly, with a fair amount of power on. Attempts at glide landings (to see over the nose) almost always ended in very heavy "arrivals", as it would "mush" into the ground on round-out.

Training started at once. Really it was simple, we had to learn to dive-bomb and to fly any position in a box-of-six which was to be our normal tactical formation. A range was set up on a big sandbank (it was the dry season) on a bend in the river Damodar, about 30 miles from Madhaiganj. Who supplied the observers, and what equipment they had, I do not know. There must have been two of them at a safe distance, with lines of sight at right angles and some form of theodolite.

We went to work on this range right away. All we were concerned about was results, and with practice these became quite good. Four 11½ lb smoke bombs were carried on a rack under the left wing, and dropped one per dive. The trip to the range took about 15 minutes, and by then you'd climbed to bombing height of 10 - 12,000 ft.

The trick was to fly up to the target in such a way as to be vertically above it when you rolled over. The best method was to keep it in view, running along tight against the left side of the fuselsge from the nose back until it slid under the wing, count ten and go over, crouched, standing on your rudder pedals on the way down.

The steeper the dive, the better the result. You "throw" your aircraft at the target much as a darts player "throws" his wrist at the board. You must not forget to (a) use the dive brakes and (b) pull out in good time. As to what constituted "good time" we experimented, pulling out high to start with and then reducing until we'd established the lowest safe height. This was reckoned to be when the altimeter passed 3500 ft above ground, although the aircraft would be lower at this point, as the instrument lagged by several hundred feet.

Having planted your first bomb and swung round to see where it had gone, you climbed up and dived three more times, then home. As such a climb and repositioning took you ten to fifteen minutes, two or three aircraft could space themselves out and use the range together.

These sorties lasted little more than an hour and formed the greater part of our training. We improved with practice: at the end almost all bombs would go in a 100-yard circle.

Enough for tonight,

Sleep well,

Danny42C



We didn't have bird strikes - we had pterodactyl strikes !

Chugalug2
21st May 2012, 16:02
Never having been involved with things that go bang, apart from lugging them about from time to time (in which case you very much hope that they don't), how does a 1/2 lb smoke bomb work? Does it emit smoke upon release so that you can follow its trajectory, or merely on impact so that you can see where that is?

Evidently the practise bombing in the 1920s at Bicester (a uniquely preserved pre WWII RAF station) was done over the grass airfield, which was marked with an aiming point. The ""bombs" were simulated by the firing of flash bulbs in the Sidestrands, etc. By also releasing stannic chloride from containers made out of Tate & Lyle Golden Syrup tins, the resultant cloud could be tracked from a "Camera Obscura" in the roof of SHQ and the drop wind assessed. Thus an optimum release point was calculated and the difference between that and where the flash bulb firing occurred created the theoretical error, to be reported back to the crew after landing and/or their boss!

No doubt we will soon have to return to the use of Syrup tins and Flash Bulbs as Mr Osborne seeks out further efficiencies....

Danny42C
21st May 2012, 18:12
Chugalug,

I didn't make myself very clear did I ? Problem is, I can't find fractions yet. Should have said "Four Eleven and a half pound bombs !" - (why don't we forget about the half, just toss for it, and simply call them 11 or 12 lb ?)

But of course you had tongue-in-cheek, I'm sure - if not, idea is: bomb hits ground, goes pop, emits smoke for a minute or two, goes out. Simple.

But not a toy. General rule: smaller the bomb, the nastier.

Camera obscura ? - there's an idea. But CCTV better !

Cheers,

Danny.

Chugalug2
21st May 2012, 19:13
You were very clear Danny, and if I'd properly read your post or even stopped to think, the notion of a 1/2 lb bomb of whatever type would be plainly absurd. It just proves what I said, that things that go bang are beyond my ken!
Interesting though that you say the smaller the bomb the nastier! That needs explaining somewhat, if you wouldn't mind. Though no doubt conventional wisdom in the bombing world, it seems somewhat counter intuitive.
Bicester has original pre-war bomb stores as well as much larger capacity WWII rail-head bomb ramps and fusing huts, all naturally on the far side of the airfield from the Tech-Site. Even so there were some dreadful accidents (East Kirkby for one) where the necessary coming together of bomb and bomber proved disastrous. What arrangements were in place in your case? Were there remote mounded bomb stores, or simply pyramids of the things? Other than 11-12 lb bombs (see what I did there ;-) what others did you have? A dotting of munition i's and crossing of t's please!

Danny42C
22nd May 2012, 01:47
Chugalug,

Now I must be careful, for we have an Armourer (harryhrrs), of my age group among us, quite possibly in earshot (where are you, Harry ?), who may well jump out on me, and lay bare my ignorance for all to see.

AFAIK, the thing is, the bigger (and presumably more expensive) a bomb is, the more room they have for and the more they can afford to spend on the fuse. Therefore they can build better and more sophisticated safety features into it, making it safer for the user. When you get down to the 11 or 12 lb level, I think all they had was a sort of split-pin (like a Mills bomb), while it's in you (should) be all right.

Of course, no device is proof against idiots; if you circumvent all the safety measures, then it matters little whether you are sitting next to a 250lb or a 2000lb one - you won't feel a thing either way. I don't know if a 11lb would kill you, but it would sure make your eyes water !

Familiarity breeds contempt. On one of our sqdns in East Bengal, an armourer had to take out the fuse from a 250lb sitting on a bomb trolley. Some grit had got in, the fuse/detonator was jammed in its thread. He collected a hammer and a cold chisel, straddled the bomb and went to work.

They found one wheel and half the chassis of the trolley some distance away, but that was all. (It is quite likely that something similar caused the RAF Fauld disaster in 1944).

Storage ? I don't think anybody bothered much where they were stored. Until it's fused, a bomb is very safe. But in our case, we were dropping the things as fast as (or faster than) they could be got up to us; it was a sort of just-in-time system, storage was not a problem.

When we moved from one kutcha strip to another a few miles away, we always flew across bombed-up - to ease the MT load, and to be ready for action as soon as we landed. In those cases, the long sides of my bed had to go by road - the armourers jibbed at having to fit a bomb and my bed section on the same rack!

The only "proper" bombs I ever dropped were the GP 250s and 500s HEs, usually fused "NITI" (Nose instantaneous, Tail instantaneous), sometimes with "Rods", about 12in long , fitted to the nose fuse so that the blast would go sideways instead of being wasted digging big holes in Burma (never turned up any crated Spitfires, though).

Too much already, Goodnight,

Danny.

kookabat
22nd May 2012, 06:33
While we're talking of practice bombs, can I relate a story from a pilot I once knew? Before he went to 467 Sqn and joined up with my great uncle's crew, then-F/L DPS (Phil) Smith was a pilot instructor at the OTU at Honeybourne, having previously completed a tour on Wellingtons with 103 Sqn. He was flying Whitleys when this incident happened in April 1943. I quote from a manuscript he wrote after the war for his grandson:

Before a trainee crew could be passed out, each one had to reach a fixed standard in bombing exercises. Our flight had got behind in bombing and so we had not been delivering our quota of trained crews. We had been doing the exercises but had not been getting all the required results. mainly because our practice bombs had been 'hanging up' [...] I had taken a trainee crew up when we were being pressed to get results and, on this occasion again, we were one bomb short of our quota. I was very irritated to have another failure on my hands and was determined to find out what was happening. When we had landed and arrived at our dispersal hard standing, I ordered the crew not to open the bomb doors as is normal at that stage until I had got out and was ready to check on the bomb release gear. When I was ready, I called out for the bomb doors to be opened and as soon as this happened, the missing bomb fell out in front of my face. It had not fallen far enough to turn head down and so did not go off. This was an awful shock...

Whoops!

Adam

Blacksheep
22nd May 2012, 07:12
Its many years later in 1969, at RAF Waddington. A Canberra enters the circuit with a "hang-up" and I'm sent out to marshal it to a stop on the peri-track, far away from buildings - and anything else apart from me! The aircraft lands and taxis round to where I'm waiting, with the entire RAF Regiment Crash section following at a respectful distance. When he comes to a standstill with engines running, the pilot signals me to open the door. Out pops the navigator, who runs under the wing and reappears with a practice bomb tucked under his arm. He gets back into the aircraft and away they go again.

I suppose he stowed it safely away in his Nav-Bag, but it makes you think. :uhoh:

Milt
22nd May 2012, 07:55
Deployed from Schofields to Canberra once Down Under in a Mustang with 4 x 11 pnd practice bombs under each wing on light series carriers.

On the landing roll out at Canberra one bomb came adrift, skated along the runway, wore off the safety pin and exploded. The small blast, just audible, was enough to lift the wing a little without doing any damage.

Does anyone know what the chemical was that produced the smoke?

Union Jack
22nd May 2012, 09:35
Does anyone know what the chemical was that produced the smoke?

Depends whether the smoke comes from the bomb or the assembled company - if the latter, it's probably "carbon dibaxide"!:eek:

Jack

(who served at Schofields when it was HMAS NIRIMBA)

Danny42C
22nd May 2012, 18:24
Try the Army, they have mortar smoke bombs, probably the same stuff inside.

Danny42C

Danny42C
24th May 2012, 00:28
There was nothing in the RAF's accumulated stock of wisdom about dive bombing, and we'd had to work it all out for ourselves. There was a story (for which I cannot vouch), that late in '42 one of the other squadrons had been visited by a couple of types who had done a dive-bombing course with the US Navy in Pensacola. They intended to go round all the Squadrons to lighten our darkness with their "gen"; they preached the nose-over method and brought along some form of tubular (telescopic ?) bombsight which they had been given in the US.

A sceptical audience of 82 Sqdn ? - (I believe they got their VVs first, in late '42) - heard them out. "Show us", they said. They gave one of the "experts" a VV and he rigged up his patent sight in it.

Unfamiliar with a VV and concentrating on his bombsight, he forgot to open the dive brakes. His attentive class gloomily surveyed the smoking hole and decided that it might be better to do it their way. Wing-overs are much more comfortable than push-overs and the yellow line was all the bombsight we needed (the other "expert" being rather discredited, retired hurt).

Having said that, I believe that the "Stuka" was nosed-over (not so bad if you're only diving 60-70 degrees), and Wiki tells me that they had some kind of window in the cockpit floor through which they sighted their target.

I cannot see the point of this, the area you can see on the ground through a window on the floor has to be relatively small compared with that (say 25 square miles or more) at 10,000 ft, which is blanked off by the mass of aircraft you're sitting on. And what about the 500 kg bomb which was carried right in your line of sight ? The only way to do it would have been to fly nearly up to the target, turn sharply on to it, hope it pops up in the window and nose dive on it. And were you trying to fly formation and gawping through this window at the same time ?

As I have said, we had decided that on operations we would always fly in box-of-six formation, and we did trips to Calcutta (Dum-Dum) for fighter affiliation exercises with the Hurricanes from Alipore.

Our gunners aimed at the Hurricanes as they came in on their mock attacks, they both had no end of fun. We pilots sweated like pigs, hauling our lumbering monsters round in steep turns. The first exercise finished right on top of Alipore; the last Hurricane gave us a bravura display, putting his aircraft into a spin and holding it in all the way down to his circuit.

We were to land at Dum-Dum to refuel before going back to Madhaiganj. Unfamiliar with the airfield, I committed an embarrassing faux-pas, being the last man to land. The layout was the usual runway with a parallel taxi track to the side. But there was a lot of work in progress and there was more than one parallel track. Not expecting this, I'd not taken any particular note of where the man in front of me had turned.

To cut a long story short, I turned off, missed the first (proper) track, which looked small and insignificant, and took the next. When that looped round, heading off the airfield, the penny dropped. I was on a contractor's access road. I stopped, stuck.

There was no room to turn round and the VV had no reverse gear. I shut down and sent (mutinously muttering) "Stew" back on foot to confess. He didn't have far to walk: my absence had been noted. "Where's Danny?" - "He landed behind me", said Number Five, "so he must be on the field somewhere". The Flight truck raced back up the taxiway and found us

They had to fetch a tractor and towing dolly to haul me out, ignominiously, tail-first back down the track to the flight line. The Boss was not well pleased, time had been lost, the word "idiot" may have been used. Others chuckled that, as a rule, aircraft got lost in the air - not on the ground !

As a change from bombing practice, formation and these fighter affiliation exercises, we had occasional training cross-countries, usually to Calcutta where we could combine them with shopping trips (and a night at the "Grand"). One fine morning we had a change in the shape of a special navigation exercise.

Our Engineer Officer wanted one aircraft flown intensively, so as to build up flying hours to intermediate inspection time (which I think was 110 hours). This would give him a foretaste of the troubles he might expect when the rest came along in turn.

Accordingly, each dawn one crew was sent off to fly this aircraft some 200 miles North to the foothills of the Himalayas on the borders of Nepal. At the appointed spot (Lake Supauli) we would be about 80 miles South of Everest, and at a cruising height of 10,000 ft , would see the range of Himalayan giants from 20,000 ft upwards over the horizon, given clear weather.

We were ordered not to fly any closer over the border into Nepal, as the Gurkhas believed that their Gods would be offended thereby, and upsetting a Gurkha is not a good idea.

We were lucky on our day (5th Feb), the weather was perfect. Stew was issued with a RAF camera and threatened with painful death if he should drop it over the side. The trip was uneventful, couldn't find the lake (nor could anyone else - must have dried up), but I was sure of my position and we flew W-E while Stew took several good shots. I have a very small print in my logbook (printing paper was scarce) , as a memento of the only time I saw Everest in almost four years in India - and I never went to see the Taj Mahal. Missed opportunity !

Bit more soon,

Goodnight, all,

Danny 42C


Never mind. 

Chugalug2
24th May 2012, 09:56
Danny, I know exactly what you mean about the "Nose Over" technique employed by Stukas, and very unpleasant it must have been been too. Starting an attack with a negative g bunt, only to end it with a large positive g pull out! But there again I speak merely as a truckie; straight and level only and tea on the hour, every hour!
However it would seem that they also employed the wing over technique, peeling off in formation to begin their dive. This excerpt from "Die Deutsche Wochenschau", a sort of teutonic Pathe News, shows them doing just that during the later Russian Campaign. Possibly they altered their own tactics in the light of operational experience? I must say I prefer the Bob Danvers-Walker delivery to the loud ranting in this clip:
Stuka attack in Eastern Front (Sep 1943) - YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=endscreen&NR=1&v=BCNWYlx4evY)

Danny42C
25th May 2012, 02:35
Chug,

I've had a good look at this clip (and some of the others bundled up with it), and it's most revealing. Yes, the Stuka does seem to have used both methods of dive entry, but the illustrations of the actual dives appear to show an angle of around 70 degrees, which would not be too unpleasant for a nose-over.

But for 90, which we aimed to achieve, a wing-over is far better, as you can keep your target in view all the time, whereas in a nose-over you are unsighted until it appears over the nose, and then you have less time (and height) to adjust any "sighting error".

Most of the contributors to Google/Wiki seem to agree that the Vengeance was the only dive bomber designed to dive vertically, and to be superior to the Stuka in this respect. I said most: there is dissent from Captain Eric Brown, RN and his is a voice to command respect. (I have lifted the following from Wikipedia: "Junkers Ju87" - have I been naughty ?)
Eric "Winkle" Brown (file://wiki/Eric_), a British test pilot from the Royal Navy (file://wiki/Royal_Navy), and General Officer Commanding "Captured Enemy Aircraft Flight (file://wiki/No._1426_Flight_RAF)" section, tested the Ju 87 at RAE Farnborough (file://wiki/RAE_Farnborough). He remarked:
"I had a high opinion of the Stuka because I had flown a lot of dive-bombers (file://wiki/Dive-bomber) and it’s the only one that you can dive truly vertically. Sometimes with the dive-bombers, pilots claim that they did a vertical dive (file://wiki/Descent_(aircraft)). What a load of rubbish. The maximum dive is usually in the order of 60 degrees. In a dive when flying the Stuka, because it’s all automatic, you are really flying vertically. You feel that you are over the top and feel you are going that a way! The Vengeance (file://wiki/Vultee_A-31_Vengeance) and Dauntless (file://wiki/Douglas_SBD_Dauntless) were both very good but could dive no more than 60 or 70 degrees. The Stuka was in a class of its own."

For what my humble opinion is worth, I beg to differ. When you press the button, still lined up on your target, a split second before pull-out, and it lands on or very near it, then your dive must have been vertical, or almost so.

For otherwise the bomb will not follow the trajectory of the aircraft, but revert in seconds to a ballistic curve which leads to an undershoot error, which in the case of a 60 degree dive and (say) 3000 ft of height on release, might well be of the order of 1000 ft or more.

(I agree with Capt. Brown about the "over the top" sensation: you never get used to it! - but I would not be entirely happy with an "automatic" dive bomber - whatever that meant in practice).

"Leading" your target - pulling your nose up a bit just before release - in the same sense as deflection shooting, - is of no avail; it is the "sub-aircraft point" (if I may coin a phrase) on release that counts, not where it is pointed.

I have read in Tee Emm that they had a similar problem with bob-aimers during the war. Some were gripped by a fallacy that, if you were just to the left (say) of the aiming point at the very last minute, you could in some way "throw" your bomb onto it by a sharp turn right. Can't work for the same reason.

(Note that the height on release is the crucial factor in the Vengeance case; when you're throwing it off at 50ft, it doesn't matter at all - your bomb will more or less keep you company to the bitter end).

This has got a bit out of hand, more on the Stuka clips later

My most sincere thanks, Chug, for giving me this lovely bone to gnaw!

Goodnight,

Danny. 

Chugalug2
25th May 2012, 18:50
Danny, your latest post perfectly illustrates the value of this thread, for not only do we get the main story (of your WWII experiences) but get to learn the mechanics of operational flying (in this case dive bombing) from someone who did it for a living! As for "out of hand", you alone are the decider of its pertinence or not. As a captivated recipient I am forever grateful for the "By the way..." asides that put us in your aircraft, in your basha, or even your charpoy (figuratively speaking of course, you understand!)
As to Captain Brown, indeed a renowned and respected aviator. Is it possible that the Vengeance that he tested was the A-35 and not the A-31? The latter, with its zero incidence wing, was the superior dive-bomber you tell us because it could indeed deliver from a 90 degree dive.
Did the Stuka share this attribute, or did its "automatics" somehow override the tendency to "track" horizontally towards the target rather than diving vertically on it? If so how could it overcome its own intrinsic aerodynamics? I understood that the automatics only extended to bomb release and recovery, or were there other features? We are all ware of the vulnerability it suffered in a hostile air environment, but when the Luftwaffe had air superiority it was a truly devastating and highly accurate weapon system.

Fareastdriver
25th May 2012, 20:10
highly accurate weapon system.

It was also fully aerobatic.

Danny42C
25th May 2012, 23:36
Chugalug,

Not so much of the "truckie", if you please, Chug. I've spent many a happy hour curled up on the mailbags at the back of a "Dak". God bless Transport Command and all of you who flew in her, say I - and many a weary squaddie would say "amen" to that.

As nobody else seems to want to come in, let's continue with this absorbing (?) topic.

Capt. Brown had an A-35 to test and not an A-31? Very possibly, (why didn't that occur to me ?) This could explain it, Now I come to think of it, the only VVs which AFAIK got to the UK in any number were the Mk IVs which came on the scene very late and became target tugs. There must have been one or two of the early Mks which were brought over for test, but the testers only considered them as flying machines, concluded that they were useless as such (which they were), and didn't even try any dives.

But in those early days Capt. Brown was flying off escort carriers, in mortal combat with FW Condors and U-boats in the Bay of Biscay. His days as the premier test pilot of the age were in the future. He may never have flown, much less dived, a VV Mks I - III (the A-31).

Yes, I read that the "automatic" bit related only to the pull-out. Vielen Dank, Herr Junkers , but I'd rather decide for myself when to pull out ! (Old adage: A black box has no fear of Death. !)

A picture is worth a thousand words. I was fascinated by the air shots of the Stukas on the clips, pausing many of them for close study. Among the points which struck me: the 500kg fuselage bomb in position would certainly have made any floor "window" useless; the wing bombs are carried rather far out (why ?); their "crutch" (to throw the fuselage bomb clear of the prop) is hinged from the rear (our twin"forks" pivoted from the front - is there an advantage ?); their bomb smoke does look white - maybe the VV clip (YouTube) you sent me shows real bursts, in which case where's the target: it doesn't seem to be the (obvious) bridge ?

The questions go on and on. But it's clear that the Stuka was a very efficient weapon for the Germans.

The next instalment of my story is on the stocks,

Goodnight,

Danny.

I've been puzzling for a long time, what does "IIRC" mean ? (Somebody should produce a Glossary of these abbreviations)

Fareastdriver,

(Your Post just popped up)

So was the Vengeance (of a sort!). You could loop it and barrel-roll it, but it would be a brave man, with a good 10,000 ft of clear air underneath him, who tried to slow roll the thing ! (I never heard of anyone trying).

Danny (Paragraph spacing gone ape; I've no idea - sorry !)

phil9560
26th May 2012, 01:56
Danny - IIRC is If I Recall Correctly.
Keep it coming Sir.

Danny42C
26th May 2012, 03:27
phil9560,

Thanks a lot ! (I'm learning slowly),

Goodnight,

Danny.

ACW418
26th May 2012, 08:23
Danny,

I have found the attached website, Text Messaging, Chat Abbreviations and Smiley Faces - Webopedia (http://www.webopedia.com/quick_ref/textmessageabbreviations.asp) very useful as I can never work out these abbreviations. Pretty useless at crosswords too!

Keep up the good work. Absolutely fascinating.

ACW

Danny42C
26th May 2012, 13:42
ACW,

You're all too kind - I shall endeavour to Give Satisfaction, as they used to say ! Curiously, the analogy with crosswords and anagrams struck me too, when I was posting the question. Case of Great Minds ?......

Your Link is going to be very useful to me - thanks !

Danny

Danny42C
26th May 2012, 17:19
A little later in February, the C.O. (it would still be S/Ldr. Lambert) opened his post one morning to find a letter from the Canadian High Commission in Delhi. This informed him that Sergeant-Pilot "A", RCAF, had been gazetted Pilot Officer "A" w.e.f.......

"A" was hauled in, mystified. He hadn't applied and knew nothing about it. The C.O. hadn't been asked for an opinion, never mind a recommendation. Feeling miffed, he referred to AHQ Bengal (Calcutta), only to be told curtly to mind his own business and get on with it.

Still fuming a week later, he got another letter, this time from the Australian High Commission. Sergeant-Pilot "B", RAAF, etc. More followed. It seemed to us that the Dominion Governments had decided on a policy to commission all their Sergeant-Pilots in India. As a Briton, I was the odd man out.

Up to then, I'd been quite content to remain an NCO. I'd been a bit disappointed when I got my wings without even having been considered for a commission. But I'd settled down and, had I stayed in the UK, would have hoped, had I lived (more than doubtful), to rise to Flight Sergeant (one year) and Warrant Officer (two years) on time promotion. But this latest business seemed most unfair.

I went to see the C.O. "Why not ?" he said wearily, "Everybody else is getting it - I'll put you up" (my misdemeanour at Dum-Dum seemed to have been forgiven). It was a formality from then on. I was called for interview with the AOC of 221 Group in Calcutta, a kindly old AVM (Williams, I think), He satisfied himself that I didn't drop my aitches, and could probably use a knife and fork, and signed me in. Thus are careers made........OCTU ?........ What's that ?

Nothing happens overnight. This took place in mid-February, but my commission did not come through till early October (backdated to May). I was still with 110, but now back from Chittagong (where we'd flown our first few ops in May) to Digri, in West Bengal for the monsoon months (June - mid October), when we couldn't operate (and they had paved strips, so we could at least fly).

I took the stripes off my shirts, inherited a pair of P/Os shoulder cuffs from someone who'd just gone up to F/O, and invested Rs28 (£2 - £100 today) in a posh new cap from Bright & McIvor's in the "Grand" Hotel arcade. Aside from moving my kit into my first own room (basha!) in the RAF, that was it. Really, it didn't make all that much difference.

Of course, I took my new cap round to a photographer in Calcutta right away, for the "commissioning portrait" which everyone sends home to Mum (and which usually only appears in public on your obituary - supposing you to have been important enough to rate one). Years after her death, I came across it again and it now graces my mantelpiece. I look at the solemn young face across the void of seventy years. Truly: "Age shall wither them, and the years condemn".

Now I was really in the money. To start with, I was credited with six month's back pay as a Pilot Officer. At Rs500 a month it was almost double my pay as a Sergeant, and more than double what a new P/O would get at home. You'd think they'd deduct my Sergeant's pay before handing over the balance. But Indian bureaucracy doesn't work like that. They paid me the whole Rs3000; it was then up to the UK to get its money back (some Rs1700) if it could (it took them two years!).

Then I got a full UK uniform allowance, about £90 - say another Rs1300. My outgoings so far were one cap (Rs28). Nemesis would come years later, when I went back to the UK and had to kit myself out in blues. Meanwhile the windfall had to stay in my paybook, for there was nothing to spend it on.

We had no Bank accounts out there in those days. Our accumulated pay was entered in a Pay Book (similar to the ones we'd had as Sergeants). It would be entered up by any RAF Accountant Officer (from whom we drew cash as required).

Even if we'd had Bank accounts, I don't think anyone would have touched our cheques with a barge pole - certainly not the Grand Hotel ! Only the major cities would have UK bank branches (Lloyds had a presence in India, and there may have been other home banks). You needed to devote a whole morning or afternoon to the simplest transaction, for Indian bureaucracy in full flow is a sight to behold.

You started with clerk "A", who gave you a "chit" to take to Clerk "B", who gave you a brass tag to take to Clerk "C", who made an entry in a ledger and gave it back to you to take to Clerk "D", who gave you another chit to take to the Cashier. (This might not be in the right order, but you get the general idea).

That worthy regarded you and your chit with the utmost suspicion and reluctantly the cash changed hands (and that was just a deposit !) All this would be supervised by a couple of burly guards armed to the teeth. I suppose that the idea was that only the most determined fraudster would persist in such a rigmarole; the rest would give up, retire to the street outside and recline in the shade of the nearest tree.

Enough is as good as a feast,

Evenin' all,

Danny42C


Excused Boots

Chugalug2
26th May 2012, 21:05
Danny, I too have a framed photo of an absurdly young self. Not commissioned yet though, still a callow Flight Cadet and on the books as an AC2 IIRC (no problem now, eh? ;-). In a failed attempt to look worldly I am lounging in a chair easy dark oak; 1, with a cigarette between my fingers. As I'm wearing No1's and obviously had nothing much else to do, I'd guess it was Sunday and I've just returned from Church Parade. My Grandfather, to whom I gave it, framed it, and I in turn inherited it when my Grandmother died.

Your comment about Dum-Dum and the dead end "taxi-way", reminds me of an incident at Gatwick when the runway was closed for re-surfacing. A parallel taxyway had already been beefed up to runway status with appropriate lighting and that in turned was served by a subsidiary parallel taxyway. The relevant Notam said that landings that night were to be made on the parallel taxyway which would be appropriately lit, and the main runway would remain closed until ATC announced its reopening. I suspect you can see where this is going....
There was of course no ILS available, and radar positioning required you to call visual some 3 miles out. Landings continued without incident until one crew, having called visual, had second thoughts. They could indeed see a lit runway (even with some abbreviated approach lighting), with a lit taxyway to the left of it. They knew that they were not to land on the runway, so obviously they must land on the taxyway! They did so, only to see another aircraft taxying towards them in the beam of their landing lights! Both aircraft braked hard, and the taxying one I think took to the grass. Fortunately they stopped in time and no harm done other than to very bruised egos! Rather puts your little contretemps into perspective Danny.
God bless the Dominions! Without them you might have stayed poor. Now you are rich beyond the Dreams of Avarice!

Danny42C
26th May 2012, 23:49
Chugalug,

The eyeball to eyeball incident at Gatwick sounds to have been a bit hairy ! I have read that there have been two other incidents of aircraft mistakenly landing on the N taxiway there; in both cases there was, mercifully, nothing in the way. I believe one was an Air Malta, but it was long ago. Maybe one of our merry band could fill in details.

Ah, the days of our youth. "Si jeunesse savait - si altesse pouvait" !

Goodnight,

Danny.

Deaf
27th May 2012, 06:22
Does anyone know what the chemical was that produced the smoke?

Cheap stuff which is probably what these were is some variation of gunpowder with a dye added. The dye:

- absorbs heat so it burns slowly and does not go bang
- forms a cloud of fine particals of the desired colour

Kitbag
27th May 2012, 09:30
Danny, great reading about your experiences, but I would like to correct a minor error when you assert the JU87 bomb crutch was hinged at the rear. If you look at this link (http://www.my-crete-site.co.uk/ju87.htm) you will see photos of the machine preserved at RAFM Hendon with the crutch clearly front hinged.

Please keep up the tales of your time flying, they are truly fascinating.

thegypsy
27th May 2012, 09:37
Landing at Gatwick.That was a BIA 1-11

Danny42C
27th May 2012, 21:11
Three welcome helpers for the price of one !

Deaf,
Almost certainly right. The Army mortar smoke bombs could do colours as well as white; no reason why the RAF wouldn't use the same filler (did think of white phosphorus myself, but that would be nasty stuff to handle).
 
Kitbag,
Thanks for the link - it's clear as a bell now ! - you're absolutely right. Sadly I'm now too immobile to go down to have a look for myself. But:
Stuka attack on Eastern Front (Sep 1943) - YouTube

(found by Chugalug in his #2591), and its sub-links gives a wealth of videos of Stukas in action and on the ground. Quality is rather poor, and this may have deceived me into thinking I saw a rear fixing.
 
thegypsy,
Story now complete; (IIRC - get me ! - the other unfortunate was an AirMalta 737; it must have been around twenty years ago).

 
Thank you, all three - this is what this thread is for - (and the compliments are nice, too !)

Danny42C

Danny42C
28th May 2012, 17:37
I trust you'll bear with me for a while, for I have to put a number of jumbled memories into some sort of order before going on to the more interesting bits which follow.

After I finished flying in '54, I closed my logbook and don't suppose I opened it again for fifty years. Then when I composed my "Jottings" over the last ten years or so, I relied solely on my memory for a "broad brush" recall of events, both for my own satisfaction and that of the family (I did not get on line until last summer, and only started to post on this thread in January).

Now my posts have to face scrutiny by knowlegeable and critical readers, I've had to open the book again to check that my "Jottings" are not in conflict with it.

First shock: March '43 has vanished ! (no, the sheet has not been ripped out to conceal some nefarious deed - all the times carry forward seamlessly, and it's all fully countersigned). I've just dropped off the radar from late February to the last week of of April. Right at the back of my memory some half-forgotten fragments begin to come together. Here goes:

It must have been a few days after I got back from Calcutta; a Hoogly mossie had done its worst; I went down with my first dose of malaria. That's not news out there. Then I developed jaundice - a not unusual sequel. (Just for interest, Google "Jaundice" - they show a nice pic of the greyish yellow colour I turned - it is also the exact shade of our UK issue tropical kit after a wash or two).

I was hospitalised - no surprise - but in Dehra Dun ! Dehra Dun is five hundred miles away as the crow flies. There were British Military Hospitals in Calcutta - only 150 miles away. I had no reason at all to be in Dehra Dun.

Why, and how did they get me up there ? I don't think jaundice is infective. Was I "walking wounded", fit for train travel ? Don't know. All I know is that I was in hospital there for two ot three weeks, and then they passed me on for a fortnight's recuperation to Chakrata, about 80 miles to the West.

Both these places are semi Hill Stations in the foothills of the Himalayas, perhaps 4000 ft up and therfore some 10-15 degrees (F) cooler than Bengal, which would be hotting up nicely by then. Does a cooler climate assist recovery from Jaundice ? Don't know.

Nothing much special about Dehra Dun, except that even today it seems to have more than its fair share of hospitals, and the Indian Army "Sandhurst" was there.

Chakrata had a small "cantonment" ( a military camp with married quarters); we were billetted in former OR's MQs - like Hullavington). They had a very skilled camp barber, he was reputed to be able to shave, with a cut-throat razor, a sleeping customer without rousing him from slumber (didn't try it - would you !)

I arrived back In the last week in April, and Stew and I flew a few more training exercises. In May, he vanishes. Where ? Could he have got malaria ? Quite possibly. I should remember, but I don't. From the 8th, my regular crewman was a P/O Robertson (nav), and it was with him that I went to war on the 12th. Stew does not appear again until 5th July, when we'd pulled back to Bengal from the Arakan for the Monsoon, and after that "we were not divided".

While I'd been away, 110 (maybe just one flight) went on a week's detachment to Dohazari - in Arakan a bit south of Chittagong - and flown one or two sorties (I only found this out from Wiki - I don't remember anyone telling me about it at the time - Odd ?) And again, what was the point of sending them across there just for a week ? (it might have enabled them to say that 110 was the first VV Squadron to go into action - which it was - but little else).

You've been very patient. Next time the fun starts.

Another day done,

Danny42C


Light Duty

Chugalug2
28th May 2012, 20:03
Love the proverb Danny! "if youth but knew, if age but could"...
Yes, memory is a tricky blighter is it not? One of my bosses suffered from jaundice, and I'm not sure if it wasn't a sequel to malaria as in your case. Very seriously ill he was too. Perhaps we prefer not to remember such debilitating times when our fate is completely outside our control? The other thing I find is that incidents are remembered, though not in the right sequence ("the right memories, Sunshine, though not necessarily in the right order", as Morecombe might have said). Like you I have had to turn to my Logbook to get a timeline for some points in my life. A pain in the proverbial in having to compile with all the higher maths involved, but a great reference book for later use, not the least being getting jobs!
I suspect that the military hospital was a great contrast to your forward base; immaculate wards, crisp well-starched Sisters, er...sorry, where was I? Certainly the hill stations must have been a great relief from the hot and humid conditions that you came from. Do you recall if it was served by one of the famous narrow gauge mountain railways that the Himalayan Foothills are famous for? They had a series about them on the Beeb a little while back, and much of the rolling stock would have been around then, I'm sure.
I've had another trawl through YouTube for Vengeance, A-31, A-35 etc, but all to no avail. Just putting in "Dive Bomber" into the search box did produce a lot of interesting items, though not for the VV. Inexplicably a lot of them were about exercising! As an aside there were some interesting clips here, though not what I was looking for:-
RAF at War PART 1/10 rare archival footage - YouTube
mind you its Part 1 of 10, so who knows...

Danny42C
29th May 2012, 00:24
Chugalug,

Thanks for the interesting clip - it's a bit of a mixture, isn't it? The shots of the bewildered recruits being harried about like cattle certainly rang a bell - and I never thought to see again that awful instrument of torture, the U-tube of mercury which you had to puff up 40mm and hold for a whole minute. Did they still have it in your day ?

I found it hard to place some of the old aircraft. Who remembers the Defiant now ? And among the old timers I spotted a Fairey Battle, a Whitley (the "Flying Suitcase"), a Hawker Hart (or one of its many variants) and one or two more I couldn't place - that monoplane with the big radial sticking out in front ?

Small-gauge railways to places like Dehra Dun (not sure), Chakrata - certainly ! While there I was told that the local kukri-smiths found rail steel just the job - it would take a lovely edge. Driver of 8.15 gets shock when loco drops on to sleeper, length of line lifted during night !

Gentlemen's agreement reached: old worn lines left by side of track for the smiths when replaced by new: new ones no longer pinched !

Nearly all the Hill Stations had to have these toy-trains, it was the only way of getting there. Some steep ones were rack-railways (Ootacamund). You have to admire the Victorian and Edwardian railway engineers. Yes, the TV series was very watchable.

Thanks again Chug - this'll keep me quiet for hours.

Goodnight, Danny.

JOE-FBS
29th May 2012, 12:12
Monoplane with the big radial, I haven't watched the video yet (taking the Michael somewhat at work I feel) but could it be the Wellesley?

Chap up the road from me flew those in East Africa (possibly the last person alive to have done so?) after missing the Dunkirk evacuation and escaping from the south of France to Africa. His mother thought he was dead for months before he found a post office. I really must knock on his door before it's too late and see whether he has anything written down.

thing
29th May 2012, 14:56
It's a Wellesley. Held some distance record at some time (no doubt on Google somewhere)

Danny42C
29th May 2012, 17:37
JOE-FBS,

Seems you're right - now get round up the road to old feller, tell him to buy laptop, if he's not on line already (his great/grand/children can club up and buy it for his last birthday). Tell him any idiot can work it (look at me), join PPRuNe, get on thread, start talking. (I could do with a hand).

And that's an order !

D.

******

thing,

Spot on ! 0% to Danny for Aircraft Recognition ! (Yes, Google - as usual - tells all).


My thanks to you both,

Danny42C

JOE-FBS
29th May 2012, 19:16
Duty Carried Out.

I have paid a brief visit to my (nearly) neighbour (who I had been worried about because his house was for sale). Thankfully, he appears sound of mind and body. I have have secured an invitation to visit him and look at some of his papers.

He did tell me one brief bit of extra information, he was involved in the ferry runs from west to east Africa. Some of those aircraft continued on to India but he says he never saw a VV (although he did know what one was).

In fact, he also told me that he has already written memoirs but that are not easy to find. A quick Google has shown me that he is sufficiently famous to be on Wikipedia so I don't think I am breaking any confidences with this link:

Guy Buckingham - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Guy_Buckingham)

I did know about the cars, that was the common interest that first got us talking.

Anyway, I will see what I can do to get memories from him to me and hence to here. I have already established that he is not a user of t' interweb.

Hipper
29th May 2012, 19:18
There's a whole series of RAF at War available and they are mostly excellent.

http://www.amazon.co.uk/ROYAL-AIR-FORCE-At-War/dp/B0002WYS7M/ref=sr_1_1?s=dvd&ie=UTF8&qid=1338319122&sr=1-1

You may find them elswhere cheaper.

Danny42C
29th May 2012, 20:47
JOE-FBS,

Your old chap sounds to have been a "man of many parts". As he's not a "silver surfer" - yet, could you take a laptop round sometime and tempt him with a page or two of the Thread ? That's how I got started (#2250, p.113). Once you've got him on the hook, bet you'll have to struggle to get your laptop away from him ! Anyhow, thanks for the try.

D.

...........

Hipper,

Amazon sounds very reasonable - broad hints to daughter for next birthday are in order !

Thanks, both,

Danny42C.

Chugalug2
30th May 2012, 09:29
Anyone wishing to review the "RAF at War" Series if only as a precursor to buying it, as suggested by Hipper, should find all 10 parts on YouTube. PPRuNe seems to default, with a few exceptions, to the "mini screen" presentations rather than with a simple link to the YouTube page. A search on the YouTube site for "RAF at War" threw up this (hope it works!):-
RAF at War - YouTube (http://www.youtube.com/results?search_query=RAF+at+War&oq=RAF+at+War&aq=f&aqi=g1&aql=&gs_l=youtube-reduced.12..0.3760.7473.0.12586.10.8.0.2.2.0.94.574.8.8.0... 0.0.H8ckQ7vjNHY)

Danny42C
30th May 2012, 22:10
Chugalug,

Tried the link you found (Secn 2/10). Works ! Will countermand instruction to daughter.

Thanks,

Danny.

Danny42C
30th May 2012, 23:16
The day came when the Squadron was pronounced ready for action, and ordered to move up on detachment to Chittagong, then just a small port on the East of the Bay of Bengal, close to the Burmese border. The plan was to land en route at Jessore (in present Bangladesh) to refuel.

"A" Flight mustered seven aircraft (I think they had eight, one must have been u/s). We packed ourselves, our kit, the ground crew's kit and toolboxes in the aircraft and started up.

Mine cranked-up all right, but had no hydraulic pressure. This was a known fault with a known cause and a known remedy. A pressure relief valve had stuck and needed a wallop with a hammer handle on a tender spot. But this was high up on the front of the engine firewall, and of course a panel had to come off to get at it.

This was a stepladder job on account of the height of the engine. So it was a case of shut down, get the steps, take off the panel, thump valve, remove steps, start engine to confirm success, shut down, replace panel, take away steps and start engine once more.

This would take at least twenty minutes; the flight commander (Flt. Lt. Topley - "Topper") decided not to wait, but took th other six off as planned, leaving me behind to follow if my aircraft could be fixed.

It was, and I got into the air half an hour late. It was a gin-clear morning, navigation was easy, and I mapread happily along, hitting all my checkpoints "on the nose". "Robbie" had expected that he'd just be coming for the ride like the rest of the formation (the other Nav was in the lead ship with Topper), and had made no preparations to navigate. So he was quite happy to leave it to me.

After an hour, I reckoned that Jessore should be about five minutes ahead, but was puzzled to see specks milling about on the horizon where the airfield should be. Who might these people be ? By now our flight must be on the ground refuelling, or had already taken off for Chittagong.

It crossed my mind that the airfield might be under attack (at that time we had little idea of the Jap capability in the air). I dropped down below the strangers and approached warily. Soon I was relieved to recognise the VV trademark - its tail-down "sit" in the air.

They were our six, now strung out in the circuit for landing. Unnoticed, I tacked on to the end of the line (good thing I wasn't a Jap!), landed and parked. Topper climbed out, counted his chicks and did a double-take. He'd one more than he started with ! My neighbour sat morosely on his aircraft wheel. "Where have you lot been?"

"Well might you ask", was the gist of the reply (plus a bleep or two). Flying in a loose formation of six, they'd all been happy to leave the navigation in the hands of the lead crew. Topper's navigator was a P/O, a very nice son of a vicarage who shall be nameless. He'd set about his job in best textbook fashion with protractor, dividers, charts, Dalton computer, pencil and rubber (might even have had his nav bag with him to put iit all in).

There were two good reasons why this was unlikely to work. Dead reckoning requires an idea of the en-route winds. He'd relied on a forecast which was no more than a guess, and a bad one at that. And the panel-mounted US compass his pilot had to fly on was a boy-scout affair. You couldn't fly a course within five degrees (even supposing the thing to be accurate to that extent). I believe the Mk IV had a P.8 compass in cockpit, but Mks I-III didn't.

So they got good and lost, and had wandered around helplessly until by pure luck they found something on the ground they could recognise on the map, and mapread back to Jessore. Of course, there were no radio aids, no D/F and no way of checking drift. I think they must have been blown off well to the south, for there were plenty of railways on track from Calcutta to Jessore (and the fantastic "spider's web" junction at Rhanagat, 50 miles before Jessore which no one could miss).

All the other pilots had been too busy flying formation to mapread (it is not healthy to be poring over a map while flying close to your neighbour). And the other back-seat people (all gunners, I think) had just enjoyed the ride, assuming that their betters (?) in front knew what they were doing.

Topper's nav should have done what I did, just mapread along from point to point. You'd think this first experience would have taught him, but no. We refuelled and set off for the second leg. Now from where we were you can't not find Chittagong. You just fly south-east across the Sunderbands (the huge delta of the Ganges and Bramahputra) until you hit the coast, then follow it round till you get there.

The Sunderbands are thousands of square miles of swamp and a maze of waterways, largely uninhabited and mostly uninhabitable. It was a desolate place, and our nav became increasingly concerned that there was nothing to check his position or track in this featureless landscape.

At last his nerve broke; a plaintive voice came on the R/T : "Can anyone pinpoint me,
and give me a Course for Chittagong ?" (in fact it didn't really matter what Course he flew, all he had to do was to carry on south-east till he reached open sea, and the rest would be child's play. As for a pinpoint - forget it !)

Everybody froze, for he had committed a double crime. In operational areas, we used hand signals, R/T was not supposed to be used except in dire emergency - as the Jap could D/F you - and "Chittagong" was a free gift to him. Even now an English-speaking Jap monitor might be signalling to a fighter base to arrange a welcome party for us there. He should have said "to our destination", or "to our airfield", or something like that.

But now the cat was out of the bag. Someone told him to damn' well fly south, and he did. And when he hit the coast, he couldn't go wrong, just follow it. All the gunners scanned the skies with extra care and we were very relieved to get to Chittagong without finding a hostile reception committee. It was not an auspicious start.

Topper was an excellent Flight Commander and normally made intelligent decisions. How on earth had he come to entrust the navigation of his whole Flight to this well-meaning but essentially incompetent operator, without checking his flight planning ? And he would be an experienced pilot-navigator himself (as we all were), well able to keep an eye on the landmarks which were plentiful in the early part of the trip, and able to see things going wrong from the start.

It had been pure luck that all six hadn't ended forced-landed in the bundoo ( although they should have had enough fuel to get back to Calcutta if on ETA Jessore they had no idea where they were). And then why let his nav get in a quite unnecessary panic on the second leg ? It was a mystery to us.

Anyway, that was the end of proper navigation, from then on our navs were
used as gunners and nothing else. For the next three years, nobody navigated my aircraft but me (come to think of it no one had ever navigated for me!).

A few days ago I dug out daughter's old school atlas, and made some rough distance measurements. As the crow flies, I reckon Asansol (near enough to Madhaiganj) to Jessore to Chittagong at about 280 nautical miles. Say two and a quarter hours' flying time. I logged just over three hours! Where had we been? And Asansol to Chittagong straight across the Bay is only 260 n.m. It was well within range. Why didn't we fly direct ? Perhaps it was the single-engine pilot's deep-rooted aversion to flying over open water !

Rather a lot tonight, I'm afraid,

Goodnight,

Danny42C



Takes all sorts.

Nervous SLF
31st May 2012, 02:22
Hi Danny, I really enjoy reading this thread about your, Cliffs and everyone elses WW2 experiences from people who were there.

From my user name you can tell I am no longer a "good" SLF, although I used to be, but I love reading about and watching
all types of aeroplanes.

My father was never one to talk about his time in the R.N. and I only ever managed to obtain 5 very small details about
his 1939 - 1945 years. 6 actually, if you count his being invalided out.

Please, everyone who posts their WW2 experiences, keep up all the good work.

Union Jack
31st May 2012, 09:30
Rather a lot tonight, I'm afraid,

Danny (if I may), Nothing for you to be afraid about, so long as you are content to continue to regale us with your wonderfully worded tales of your fascinating experiences.

Your devoted readers are the ones who should be afraid when they keenly open up the Military Aircrew forum only to discover that there is no new transmission from you - no call for R/T silence here!

With best wishes and grateful appreciation of your outstanding contributions.:ok::ok:

Jack

Dan Gerous
31st May 2012, 10:02
Danny, I'm enjoying reading your posts, along with all the other authors on here. Your last one,(#2618), was a particulary good read.

I used to like reading the "I learnt about flying from that" page in Air Clues, when I was in the RAF, and found it comforting that the Two Winged Master Race cocked it up now and again. Lesson learnt (eventually :)).

Danny

Danny42C
31st May 2012, 22:18
Nervous SLF,

I'm a bit puzzled - what constitutes a "good" SLF? and is "SLF" an abbreviation of something I should know, but don't? (and that covers quite a lot!)
Certainly your Dad should have counted all his service till they invalided him out. They were still paying him, and that's all that mattered!

"everyone who posts WW2 experiences - let's have some more" (your words). How true. That's the trouble. Where are they? I know there must be an end soon, but am I really to be "the last of the Mohicans" ? I hope not.
*******
Union Jack

When I started, Cliff (bless him) cautioned me against pushing out too much at a time, so as not to bore people and put them off. I still think it was good advice, but some of the stories to come can't easily be broken up without upsetting the flow. We'll see.
********
Dan Gerous

Yes, I well recall: "I learned about flying from That", which was about the best thing in "Air Clues", and the never to be forgotten P/O Prune from "Tee Emm" with its monthly award of The Highly Derogatory Order of the Irremovable Digit. Your're quite right, there were just as many Bloggs in the post-war generation as ever there were Prunes in the earlier - and just as stupid, no matter how many wings they sprouted

Once again, thank you all three for the interest shown and the encouragement. Much appreciated!
Danny. 

exgroundcrew
31st May 2012, 22:39
Danny,
It's a rather sarcastic acronym for a passenger and stands for Self Loading Freight.
Often used by waggon dragons or to give them their real name Air Hostesses.

See the last Misc forum thread

Danny42C
31st May 2012, 23:02
exgroundcrew

Thanks ! I live and learn - or hope I do.

Laptop has been bu##ering me about something cruel just now - hope spacing turns out right !

Goodnight,

Danny

Petet
1st Jun 2012, 09:12
In an attempt to give Danny's typing fingers a rest, I am urgently looking for veteran ground crew (aircraft maintenance), trained during the early war years, to provide some information on their training programme.

I am researching someone who undertook an 18 week course at 5 Wing Halton and then a six month course at 1 Wing Hednesford ..... what he did after that is a bit of a mystery.

Would he have completed training at that point? Would he be posted to an operational squadron to continue his training "on the job"? Would he have had to undergo further "school" training?

If any veteran ground crew are listening in, would love to hear about your training experiences (as I am sure that contributors here will agree that the pilot's could not have done their job without you)

Regards

Pete

........ and now ..... back to Danny ...................

mmitch
1st Jun 2012, 17:42
Danny,
Some decent photos of a Vengeance in an Australian museum. If you click on the photos you get a closer look.
Aussie Modeller International - Vultee Vengeance Walkaround by Danielle Lang (http://aussiemodeller.com.au/pages/History/Aircraft/Lang_Vengeance.html)
Always read your posts Danny. Keep up the good work.

Danny42C
2nd Jun 2012, 01:54
mmitch (and Chugalug, for you'll be very interested in this link),

Checked the link - this is a real honeypot! For a start, I thought that only Mk. IVs in various stages of completeness were out in Oz. This is a pukka Mk.1 (EZ*serial number). What a find! (Far beyond me to go out and see it for myself now, I'm afaid).

Have not had time to scrutinise properly, Chugalug, and the pages (1 - 3) seem difficult to pin down, but on Page 2,(?) Line 10, middle row, there is our old wingtip radio aerial wire as plain as a pikestaff! Cannot find a pic of a top of a fin to take the other end, but it could go nowhere else. This must have been a rare mod on some aircraft, although I never saw one. Why did it go to India? What use was it?

Several views of back cockpit; among the bits strewn around can tentatively identify: wobble pump handle, rudder bars, stick (in socket), nav table and pillar for gun mount. (Plus all sorts of weird things I cannot yet recognise).

mmitch, thank you, thank you, thank you! Will play for hours with this,

Next instalment on the stocks

Goodnight, Danny.

Note *: Apologies to any reader who puzzled over "AN". It's "EZ", of course. Mental aberration, I'm afraid ("AN"s were also Mk.1s).
D. 021536

Danny42C
2nd Jun 2012, 23:07
I broke off my technical description of the VV about a fortnight ago (16 May to be exact), so I'd better fill in the rest of the remaining details I remember, and then you can forget all about it and we can get back to the more interesting things (where we went and what happened to us when we got there).

They used an inertia starter. A small, heavy flywheel was wound up by an electric motor for twenty seconds or so, building up enormous kinetic energy, then clutched through reduction gearing to spin the crankshaft. The engine (usually) fired, coughed, banged, fired again and settled down to a discontented idle at 7-800 rpm.

There was a "live-line" hydraulic system, always under pressure (2000 lb/sq.in.) with engine running, with its emergency hand pump in the pilot's cockpit. This worked the undercarriage, which retracted in the popular American way, rearwards with a quarter turn to fit flat into the wing.

(Why were they so keen on this odd arrangement ? You have the extra weight and bulk of the bevel gear needed; this has to be fitted in underwing projections (the "knuckles"); * these in turn must mean some extra drag and loss of some lift - and for what ?) Were there any British aircraft which used this idea ?

Incredibly, the lockable tailwheel also retracted - an unnecessary complication in an aircraft with absolutely no need for it ! (Neither the Spitfire nor Hurricane had them). Hydraulics also powered flaps, bomb doors, cowl gills and the dive brakes.

These last are the most important fitments on a dive bomber, and the Vengeance had splendid ones. Massive grids extended above and below the wings * On the upper surfaces the grid was hinged on the front,* so airflow would tend to force it shut. On the lower, the hinge was at the rear, with the opposite effect. Top and bottom were coupled, so the forces cancelled out.

These brakes could be opened at any speed, partially or completely, and when fully open restricted the terminal velocity to about 300 mph (knots did not come in till much later). They did not interfere with control or trim in any way, for they were well clear of the wing surfaces when fully extended and so did not obstruct the airflow over or under them.* This low terminal speed gave us plenty of time in the dive to draw a bead (in our case the yellow line) on the target.

Two unique design features improved dive stability. The angle of Incidence was zero, the Vengeance being AFAIK the only dive bomber designed from the outset to dive vertically. The side effect was a comical tail-down "sit" in the air in level flight.* A Vengeance "dragging its a###" could be recognised miles away.

Flying slowly, as in coming in to land, this combination of tail-down attitude and long nose meant no forward vision. We had to put up with that, after all the Spitfire had been almost as bad. In the same way the fin was fitted without the usual small offset to compensate for the gyroscopic effect of the propeller.

With powerful dive brakes and these novel features, the Vengeance made an excellent dive bomber. In a vertical dive, it was smooth and stable (with only 20 seconds to line up, you don't want your nose swanning about round the target). Judged purely as a flying machine, it was useless. Ponderous, awkward and slow, all was forgiven for the sake of that dive. One-trick pony it may have been, but it did its one trick very well indeed, and that was all that mattered to us.

Before my first flight, I'd spent an hour or two in the cockpit and had a good look round. Getting up there in itself was no mean feat. The book method was to climb a series of hand and footholds up the fuselage to the rear cockpit, or for the pilot to step onto the wing and go forward.* Sounds easy, but try it with a parachute on and a red hot aircraft after hours in a tropic sun !

Pilots had worked out a better way. Put your chute up on the leading edge above the wheel. Then right foot up on the wheel, left foot in the "stirrup"* on the oleo leg, right hand up on your chute, a quick scramble and you're on top. Stroll across and climb in.

There was a sketchy set of Pilot's Notes (from Vultee I think) but all I recall is a table of Engine Limitations and some doubtful advice about What to Do when the U/C Won't Come Down (their "last resort" idea was: "reduce speed as far as possible and yaw the thing vigorously from side to side !") In my limited experience, this struck me as a fair recipe for a spin, but later I was to learn that it was impossible to get the Vengeance to stall cleanly, and I don't think anyone ever managed to get one to spin.

The first impression was of immense space - you could really stretch out in the cockpit - and in the heat that was most welcome. I tried to make sense of what I could see. My US training came in useful, for the layout of controls and instruments was typically American (higgledy-piggledy - "like a pawnbrokers' shop window"). A long nose stretched out in front, blocking out all forward vision. There was a primitive ringsight for the front guns, with its "bead" a couple of feet in front of the screen,* and the yellow line bombsight mentioned already.

I didn't like having to go back to hydraulic toe brakes, much preferring the British compressed-air system used on the Master, Hurricane and Spitfire, and on some of our heavies, too (?) with a bike-style lever on the control column (much more controllable, IMHO). There was a separate pull-out handle for the parking brake.

The flying controls were standard; the stick could be locked by a lift-up stay; the bomb release button was on the top of the throttle, transmit button on the stick. There was a normal four-point harness with centre box.

After this digression, back to the main story tomorrow (I hope).

Sleep tight,

Danny42C

Note * All these are clearly visible on the must-see YouTube clip posted by Chugalug (#2549 p.128 9 May above), and on the Camden Museum Link posted by mmitch (#2626 p.132 1 Jun above).

 
Keep smiling !

Chugalug2
3rd Jun 2012, 07:54
mmitch, what a wonderful set of pics, and of Danny's beloved (?) A31 too! You've certainly made his day, and mine for that matter.
Danny, now that you've had time to peruse them, are they all as you remember, or are there "variations of"? I'm thinking in particular of Comms, and of the wing tip/fin long wire aerial. I notice that the rear cockpit has a monstrously large radio fitted on the coaming. Is that the original MF one fed from the central aerial mast? Would the wing aerial therefore be SW? In which case are we looking for a US version of the famous RAF 1154/55 Tx/Rx combination? It would have to be quite bulky I would have thought, which brings us back to the rear coaming. Over to you!
What does come across is the spaciousness, front and rear, just as you say! I'm also taken by the neatness of the pilot's instrument and switch panels. Would have done justice to a Ford V8 Pilot, I would have thought. As to higgledy piggledy, given the layout of some British Military Cockpits of the time, isn't that a bit of Pots and Kettles? I guess that you are thinking of ergonomics rather than neatness, in which case as a "user" you do of course trump all other opinions!
Wasn't the rearward opening lower dive brake a bit of a hostage to fortune? If the VV had been at Midway and made that fateful dive into heavy accurate A/A fire, a hit on that live hydraulic line would have prevented retracting them would it not? Not a very clever bit of design, or have I once again missed the point?

Danny42C
3rd Jun 2012, 19:34
Chugalug,

No, you've certainly not missed any points, and made several good ones. Starting from the top, therefore:

This is certainly a Mark 1. But what they have done with it is beyond belief. I've only had a quick look at the pics, but it looks as if they've put in a row of large downward facing lamps under at least one wing ! (now guess what they might be for - I can't !) This might explain the obviously bolt-on bank of switches low left on the panel (where formerly a row of only six fuel pump switches lived).

But I must stick with your questions or we'll be here all night. The "aerial wire": I've had a quick hunt through the pics, and in one it looks as if it might be going up to the hangar roof ! Earthing wire (to a metal structure, better than concrete floor) ?? Nowhere can I see the other end going back to an aircraft - although the radio mast-fin wire shows up well on many.

Yes, the radio set looks strange to me, could well be an American c/w set the Aussies put in. Where was our R/T set ? - can't remember - shame on me!. In back cockpit is a hand reel which might be a trailing aerial (I've never even seen one of those); where is a W/Op to help us ?

Instrument panel: top half much as I remember, and yes, it really doesn't look too bad now I come to look at it. But I spy strangers!. It looks as if this thing has had all the electrical fuel pump system stripped out: over on the right there is an obvious manual fuel selector and another top left for "Trap Tank" - and we know all about those. Just a few points of interest: they had a proper compass - we didn't.

And note that the AH has a cage/re-erect knob as they all did in those days; taken out later as obvious danger of chap relying on it on take-off on dark night (was my best guess for (Polish) President Sikorski's Lib going off Gib straight into drink during war). Later read about the Somatogravic Illusion, can hardly spell it, never mind understand it, but seems to ba a good candidate (me, I'd sooner stick with Positive Rate of Climb !)

Yes, if you were left with dive brakes stuck out, and couldn't hand-pump them in, you'd had it. AFAIK it never happened. For that matter, if your engine were knocked out you didn't go far. Luck of the draw.

I think that once we dig a bit deeper, there'll be more questions.

Danny,

Chugalug2
3rd Jun 2012, 21:05
Danny, it seems that the large radio is a Bendix TA-12 4 channel MF/HF transmitter:
TA-12 (http://www.vk2bv.org/museum/ta12.htm)
the trailing aerial that you spotted is its associated Bendix MT-5E Antenna Reel:
http://aussiemodeller.com.au/Images/History/Lang_Vengeance/109.-Cockpit-LH-Rear_V.jpg
the fixed wire aerials from wingtips to fin can just about be made out here:
http://aussiemodeller.com.au/Images/History/Lang_Vengeance/6.-EZ-999_V.jpg
but are of much finer gauge than the mast to fin aerial
The mystery is where is the associated MF/HR Receiver? Perhaps it was much sought after by Hams etc, as was the RAF's 1155. As this aircraft appears to be in a much modded state, with temporary switch panels etc, we have to take what it has or hasn't got with a pinch of salt, but it seems to have been equipped to a rather higher spec, and hence expense, than your own Mk1's. I mean, it has a clock for heaven's sake! I would guess that the IAF ones, in the YouTube video, shared a lot in common with this one, especially the enhanced comms. Nonetheless, there is a lot here of the basic VV for us to study, and for you to recall, no doubt.
Your point about the seeming preference for rearward stowage of main landing gear in US singles of the period is a good one. Why did they go for such a heavy and draggy design? I've no idea, but I would guess that they all came from one company and basically to one design. The Brits for instance persevered with big single wheel main U/Cs for their heavies to well after the war, despite the introduction in it of twin wheels for US aircraft. I suppose if a design worked and you were tooled up for it you kept supplying it until the customer said stop!

Edited to add that the seemingly missing MF/HF Rx was probably the Bendix RA-10:
RA-10D Aircraft Radio Receiving Equipment Year 1941 BENDIX (http://www.radiomilitari.com/ra10d.html)
This was essentially a remotely stowed "black box" and only its associated controls and indicators would be in the cockpit. As can be seen it was a combined comms/nav set with provision for a loop aerial and radio compass indicator as well. It would seem that the latter was not fitted even to the "gold plated" VVs as there is no sign of a loop Ae on either the IAF ones or the Aussie museum one. Here are, not one, but two remote receiver controllers, screwed to the cockpit floor!
http://aussiemodeller.com.au/Images/History/Lang_Vengeance/119.-Cockpit-2_V.jpg
Higgledy Piggledy indeed Danny! Yet more proof that this was indeed a later mod, perhaps for aircraft having need of extended range comms compared to the original factory fit.

Danny42C
4th Jun 2012, 02:16
Chugalug,

Yes, I must admit the wire does seem to head in the direction of the fin, but I can't see any sign of an insulated attachment point there. I think it'll have to go in the "unsolved mystery" file.

The OTU would only use the same R/T set as we had on the Squadrons; there would be absolutely no need for any of this kit and its aerial array, or trailing aerial on their aircraft. I never saw it on any VV. No such luxuries like D/F loops or radio compasses for the likes of us - come to think of it, no radio stations anyway! This must have been a purely Aussie mod. So how did one get to India - at least the wire bit? Again, we'll never know.

As for the Rx "black box" - buried or not, if it had value it would have been knocked off years ago. But we did have a clock (in same place on panel), that way they didn't have to give us watches, we had to buy our own.

Not all their singles had the lift/twist u/cs. The P51 Mustang and P47 T/bolt folded in like Harvards. Yes, we did seem to hang on to our big single wheels (and tailwheels!) long after their sell-by dates,

Once again, thank you (and mmitch) for laying such a treasure trove before me, and for all your helpful advice and suggestions,

Goodnight,

Danny. 

kookabat
4th Jun 2012, 08:04
Don't know if it's really any help, but I do remember the aerial going from the tail to the mast near the cockpit and then going out to a wingtip on this particular aircraft. The tensioning spring behind the radio mast was quite stretched so the actual aerial was hanging loose - I had to duck under it a few times during the couple of times I crawled all over it with a vacuum cleaner and large brush. I also remember that the cockpit canopy was locked by a retrofitted large rusty padlock...
Most of the aircraft in this collection were looking pretty old and tired when I was last there four or five years ago (since the owners passed away the museum has not been open to the public and I got in on 'working bee' days with the Sydney Branch of the Royal Aeronautical Society).
No idea what happened to the original radio sets however.

Adam

Chugalug2
4th Jun 2012, 10:08
Sorry kookabat, I hadn't realised that you are an eyewitness to this particular aircraft, and a highly motivated one at that it seems! Reading your post, you say that:
I do remember the aerial going from the tail to the mast near the cockpit and then going out to a wingtip on this particular aircraft
So have Danny and I been looking in the wrong place? Did the wire aerial arrays describe a "T" looking down from above, all joining not at the fin, but at the radio mast? That would make a lot of sense, for the feed could then come down the mast as before, straight to the TA-12 transmitter. The wingtip/mast/wingtip aerial being an efficient (though directional) dipole array.
Danny as to why the Australian aircraft should have been so fitted, could they have been intended for use over the sea? I'm thinking of the Coral and Arafura Seas in particular, from where came the threat of invasion, and to where the offensive to drive back the Japanese would be taken. Such operations would have required longer range comms for which MF alone would not suffice. What do you think?
As to why the IAF should apparently have had the same fit, I agree it doesn't add up at first glance. Of course, we don't know when the YouTube clips were taken. Is it possible that they were later deliveries? Is it possible that they were initially for the RAAF, and hence so fitted, but diverted to the IAF from the very large Australian allocation?

dogle
4th Jun 2012, 10:58
Downwards-directed lamps ... being coloured, I'd guess at some form of recognition aide .... early IFF. The control panel for these appears to be the one snuggling up to the compass ... so if you left them on, I daresay navigation on the way home might be more interesting.

Chugalug2
4th Jun 2012, 12:07
Indeed, Dogle, the "Downwards Identification Light" description in my Hastings Pilots Notes reads:
"The three downward identification lights in the fuselage nose are controlled by a switch on the coaming panel. Red, green or amber can be selected and, by pushing up the small lever on the morsing switchbox, the selected lamp can be used for morsing"
So very much the "colours of the day" as well as discrete messages to/from ground parties.
A bit of a treat for us from Avialogs for us, Danny. A repro of a painting used by Vultee for publicity purposes:
Avialogs - Vultee aircraft (http://www.avialogs.com/documents/vintage-aero-advertising/item/8411-vultee-aircraft)
Tantalisingly it seems to show our elusive wing top wires going to the lower fin. Or does it? Have to admire the sanguine crew member having a last fag alongside a fully fuelled up, and currently being bombed up, Vengeance! Mk I or IV?

Danny42C
5th Jun 2012, 00:11
So that the bulk of our "readership" should not become too bored with the specialist minutiae of aerial wires on VVs, here's another slice of the main narrative to be going on with.

Our errant Columbus was well liked and soon forgiven. Pilots smirked inwardly at having their private opinion of navigators confirmed, and resolved to place their faith in themselves and their maps in future. What my nav Robbie thought of his colleague, he kept to himself. Besides, this chap had been the source of much innocent merriment more than once already, for his was a trusting nature.

About this time there had arisen a rumour to the effect that the RAF was about to introduce a double-wing insignia for Navigators (then still called "Observers"). This was not wholly improbable. Their American counterparts, after all, did wear a double wing like pilots.

And not only in the RAF did this rumour gain credence. The stallholders dealing in such wares in the Calcutta bazaars picked it up, and sensed a business opportunity. If there is a potential demand, why not create a supply ? It became a self-fulfilling prophecy.

Someone had to be first; our hero came back from Calcutta wearing a magnificent double "O" wing. I can't swear to it, but it might even have been in gold lace - all flying badges are in "drab silk" (with the exception of mess kit miniatures). (This is not entirely true - who remembers the weird No. 1 SD jacket brought in in the early '50s ? - I do, I bought one of the bloody things!)

The C.O. told him smartly to take it down. The rumour was baseless and soon died out. But this poor chap seemed fated to be "taken for a ride" in the bazaars, for he fell prey to the con-men there again. He was coming up on time promotion (six months) for his F/O, and needed a new pair of rank cuffs for his shoulder straps. Brand new P/Os got free hand downs from new F/Os, but as it took two years warime service to reach Flight Lieutenant, and not many people had got that far since commissioning, second-hand F/O cuffs were much harder to find.

Now a F/O's rank braid is 5/16 in wide. An Indian braid weaver somewhere made a mistake, and set up his loom for 7/16. They ran off a hundred yards or so before the error was discovered. No use good stuff going to waste. Put it on the market, don't suppose it will make much difference to the customer.

They were right ! Our friend appeared with a pair of these massive stripes on his shoulders. He was mockingly congratulated on his promotion to Air Commodore. His cuffs soon joined the pretty wings in the bin, to general amusement. Luckily he was a resilient character, and endured the ribbing with good grace.

At Chittagong there was an accommodation problem. Our few officers could be fitted in the Mess on the station. But there was no room for the influx of aircrew NCOs. We were dumped in a transit camp in the town. As the Squadron came to readiness at dawn, we had to up at first light and out to the airfield, long before breakfast in the transit camp.

A bunch of hungry and resentful sergeants faced the prospect of flying the Squadron's first operation without even a mug of tea. Our M.O. (Dr "Pete" Latcham - I'm glad he survived the war) was rightly indignant. He got hold of an empty and cleanish four-gallon can, borrowed a blowlamp from the engineers, scrounged the makings of a brew from somewhere, and made the best mug of tea we'd had for a long time. He couldn't get much in the food line for us except emergency rations: "Ship's biscuits" and a tin of jam (plum, I think). Not much but better than nothing. Well done, that man! I'll always remember that "breakfast". As it happened, we didn't fly that day. But the fur flew, and from next morning there was early breakfast for us in the Transit Camp.

Looking back, I cannot see the sense of waiting so late in the season and then sending us forward. As I've said, we flew up to the Arakan on 12th May; I flew my first three "ops" on the 15th, 16th and 17th of the month, then - nothing! Clearly, the monsoon had broken and by 5th June we'd flown back to Bengal.

Our kind of dive bombing is not feasible in hilly country with a base down to 500ft and torrential rain. The onset of the monsoon (in those pre-climate-change days) was predictable almost to the day. IMHO the Squadron was as well trained as it would ever be when I got back to them in April. Why hadn't they used us then? Don't know - never will know, like so many other things in war.

Although our time out there that first year was so short, it was not without incident. We saw our first Mosquito aircraft there, and gathered awestruck round the famed "wooden wonder". Probably a PR version, it had taken a bit of flak over Rangoon, and had come up from there "at 200 mph on one engine", as we told each other in hushed amazement.

We wouldn't have been so impressed had we known of the nasty trick the Mossie had up its sleeve - namely to self-destruct in mid-air without warning, when the glue which was supposed to hold it together - didn't! But this disconcerting problem did not arise until the following year, and was eventually resolved by the development of tropic-proof glues.

As the first VV Squadron to go into operation (that week at Dohazari in March), we were graced by a visit from the AOC 221 Group - the same AVM who had rubber-stamped my recommendation in February. If his gaze had chanced on me (which I doubt), then he had forgotten me. He was a charming elderly gentlemen of the old school.

Too old a school! Casting an eye over a back cockpit, his gaze fell on the twin machine guns poking up. "Ah", said he, "you have Vickers G.O.s, I see". We were shocked. These would have been the guns he'd had in the back of the Wapitis and Hawker Harts he'd flown in his young days up on the NW Frontier. They look nothing like Brownings, as I knew all too well after the hours I'd spent at Newquay, pulling the Vickers to bits and trying to put it together again! It didn't inspire confidence.

He asked the usual question: was there anything we wanted that he could try to get for us? "More bombs, Sir", growled a grizzly old F/Sgt Armourer - we'd been dropping them faster than we could be re-supplied. (Possibly that was why we stopped so suddenly after only three days). Slightly taken aback, the great man consulted his Staff and promised to look into it; then they all piled into their Anson and flew back to Calcutta.

Rather a lot tonight, but (like Topsy), "it just growed"!

Cheers, all,

Danny42C


Soldier on!
 

Danny42C
5th Jun 2012, 01:50
Chugalug and Kookabat,
 
More riches piled on my undeserving head! Chugalug, I had a quick look at your last link, and had a good laugh at "Berlin Express". Dream on - he had as much chance of getting to Berlin as I've got now of running a 4-minute mile!

But not without interest. They must have had some kind of double winch to haul two bombs up. AFAIK, we had to winch them up one at a time. The winch fitted on the big slot just in front of the stick in the pilot's cockpit. This also came in useful for sweeping out mud and rubbish out from the cockpit floor - every family car should have something like that! (Don't be surprised at the crewman enjoying his fag - in the US our instructors openly puffed their "see-gars" in the cockpit!)

And I'm puzzled a bit about the Camden VV, How come one shot shows a single .50 Browning poking out the back? That is an A-35/Mk.IV fit. Two old .303s should be, if anything, much easier to find - but then you'd need the right back canopy section for them. It's very hard to tell an A-31 from an A-35 from the outside. Dark suspicions arise! ("EZ999" wouldn't take a signwriter long).

Per contra, the cockpit is mostly familiar to me; the wings only have two gunports, (A-35s AFAIK had 3 x .50 a side, but I think a few had only 2 x .50). The hole in the wing is no guide, it is the size of the long blast tube down which the gun fired and it would take a .50 as easily as a.303.

There seems to be plenty of provenance, though. Perhaps it's just my suspicious nature! And what purpose could it possibly serve to dress up an old Mk.IV as a Mk.I? (Kookabat, you've worked on the thing - am I talking nonsense?)

Time I was in bed! Goodnight, both,

Danny 

kookabat
5th Jun 2012, 08:08
Whoops, sorry for leading everyone 'up the garden path'. I am by no means an expert in matters Vultee, my experience with the Camden aircraft being limited to a couple of hours of general dusting and cleaning on a couple of occasions five or six years ago. My memory is hazy on the details but I definitely remember a sagging aerial that I had to duck under occasionally, and that great big padlock that stopped me getting the canopy open (purely for the purposes of dusting inside, of course :O).
So I went a-Googling. Here (http://www.ebay.com.au/itm/VULTEE-VENGEANCE-I-VALENTINES-AIRCRAFT-RECOGNITION-CARD-/370537691822?_trksid=p4340.m444&_trkparms=algo%3DMW%252BCRX%26its%3DC%252BS%26itu%3DUCC%252B SI%252BUA%252BLM%252BLA%26otn%3D12%26po%3D%26ps%3D63%26clkid %3D8914923253709127354)is a contemporary photo for sale on that auction website that I reckon shows three wires attached to the vertical fin: one to the mast on the cockpit canopy and one to each wingtip.
Here (http://www.aero-web.org/database/aircraft/getimage.htm?id=11919)is another angle on the Camden VV. You can clearly see the (single!) gun and the tensioning spring on the radio mast that I mentioned in my earlier post - looks like the wire from the tail went to the spring and then into the cockpit, with the spring itself the only thing attached to the mast.
And here (http://jetphotos.net/viewphoto.php?id=6676470)is a very clear photo of that gun - but it doesn't show enough of the radio mast to answer the question. Looking at the date on this photo I reckon there's a good chance that this was taken on one of the days that I was there, though I don't recognise the photographer's name.
Finally, I mentioned earlier that this aircraft used to be taken out and ground run. I found some photos of that too. (http://www.cnapg.net/vw1121.htm) Note the outer wings were not in situ at the time - I can't for the life of me remember if they are back on or not. I used to have some contacts who knew those in charge of the family trust who now look after the museum but unfortunately I no longer live nearby so I can't go back to see for sure...

That probably raises more questions than it answers!!

Adam

Three Wire
5th Jun 2012, 09:06
Another Link for Danny.

ADF Serials Message Board -> Navy Vengeances & Spitfires (http://www.adf-messageboard.com.au/invboard/index.php?showtopic=1949)

The RAN received a number of VV via the RAAF to use in Deck Handling Training. The link has history of the airframes, and some good contemporary photos.

Danny, don't stop. I lurk, but enjoy reading the true historical details that give life to the stories of ur forbears.

Three Wire

Chugalug2
5th Jun 2012, 20:43
kookabat, no need for apology, for you have brought valuable information of a rare beast, a surviving Vultee Vengeance. Whatever mark it might be, and we await Danny's verdict, this is an aircraft of which I had little or no knowledge before Danny introduced it to us.
I must admit to developing a bit of an anorak obsession with its aerial arrays, which would perhaps be more appropriately expressed in the History and Nostalgia Forum rather than here on this thread. So it is for me to apologise for the thread drift. In a plea of mitigation I can only plead the presence of a repetitive voice inside me that forever asks "Why?"!
A lot of the why's Danny has covered; "Why the Vengeance", "Why was it in India", "Why was it altered to the MkIV?". So as soon as Danny spotted the flapping wires running from the wingtips of the IAF ones on YouTube the same query arose. Filed in Pending TFN!

Danny, Berlin Express? Wot a larf! All part of the "first casualty of war", or blatant misadvertising? If the latter we must presumably give credit to the Air Ministry in putting the brochure to one side with a "Thanks, but no thanks!". As to you wide eyed Air Commodore/ Flying Officer, he certainly strikes a chord. There was always a rather naive chap around who would swallow any story and hence be the butt of endless wind ups. Remorse follows of course, and later shame. Well maybe not, but perhaps it should do ;-)

Three Wire, thanks for the very informative link. The depth of knowledge of such sites is simply amazing. What a sad end for those Spits though (oh, and the VVs of course!). Bulldozed, broken up and buried! Even saucepans would have been a more acceptable fate.

Danny42C
5th Jun 2012, 22:32
To Kookabat:

Adam,

EDIT: Have just checked the auction link you gave me. Even with my old eyes, there's no mistaking it - three wires (from mast and both tips) come together at the fin. Settled! (only question now is "Why").

Curiously, I'm sure I've seen that same pic many times before, but this is the first one which shows the wires without the shadow of a doubt.

Thanks a lot for your efforts - your "the wire from the tail went to the spring and then into the cockpit" is dead right - and we can see how - Last pic on Page 1. of the Camden set shows the insulated entry point on the stbd fuselage just under canopy - with a bit of wire sticking out for good measure.

If they had slack wires going every which way - which seems to be the case - you must have been in grave danger of being garrotted when you were dusting it off!

We'll have endless fun with this,

Danny

Danny42C
5th Jun 2012, 22:42
To Three Wire:

Three Wire, I've had a look at your link - heart-breaking to see all those perfectly good Spits going for scrap in Oz - but then we must have been doing exactly the same in the UK at that time. Why didn't I buy a dozen or two as an investment? (but then where would I keep them!)

There is a first-class shot of an A-35 in your link. If you can find a shot of an A-31 somewhere from exactly the same standpoint, it's just possible to detect that the wing has been shifted to give a 4 (?) degree A of I. - but you have to look really hard to see it.

Thanks a lot for this - and the kind words!

Danny42C

Reader123
6th Jun 2012, 18:07
Hello, I've been lurking, intermittently, on this thread for months if not years. I am particularly interested to read your posts, Danny. My father was an engineer officer in India and Burma from '44 to '47, latterly I think in charge of (?) a glider squadron. Like most of his generation, I know next to nothing of what he got up to, apart from a few amusing stories. So it's very interesting indeed to read your posts on life in India, Danny, thank you for them.

Some things you mention bring back memories of his tales. He said Indian gin made him (and everybody else) sick very quickly. Potassium permanganate everywhere. I'm surprised you are so casual about malaria, I'm sure he once said you'd be put on a charge for going out improperly dressed at the wrong time of year/day(?) owing to the risk of acquiring it. And somewhere buried in India at the bottom of a latrine (drilled incidentally by an auger) lies his silver cigarette case...

Probably the only sensible comment I can add to the thread is that he said (some) American-built aeroplanes were welded (to improve production speed) and therefore sealed for life - on the grounds they were more likely to be written off than require repair.

angels
6th Jun 2012, 21:07
I've been absent from Pprune and this thread for sometime for medical/work reasons and now I'm back it's not changed.

I was so sorry to read of the death of cliferno, words fail me really.

Danny - you may be interested in my dad's memoirs which start on post1307 of this thread. He followed in your footsteps to India but was able to use the Suez and put Spits together (he was an erk).

Wori, Dum-Dum, Kohima et al.

Hope you enjoy India, Burma, Malaya and Singapore from a ground crew point of view.

Had he lived, Dad would have been 90 few days back but I remain hugely proud about what he did.

And keep yours coming, belting so far! :ok:

Danny42C
7th Jun 2012, 00:11
Akyab, occupied by the Japanese since '42, is a sizeable island off the Burmese coast. It had a small port, an airfield , a radio station and a well built jail. The Japs threw out the occupants of the jail ( don't suppose they minded too much) and took it over as headquarters and their main barracks. There was an important bridge at Narigan which was an attractive target, too.

Akyab was a useful base for the Japs and they defended it. It was the only place I met that they had heavy AA, which could reach us at 10-12,000 ft as we came in. Low down, they seemed to have plenty of light Bofors-type guns. (The rumour was that these were Bofors guns, left behind in full working order - with ammo - by the Army in the '42 rout. But this may be a base slur on our gallant gunners).

As I've mentioned, my first three sorties were all to Akyab. I'm hazy on the details of the First Arakan campaign, but from what I remember, the Army hoped to push the Jap back south and retake Akyab before the '43 monsoon. Fat chance! The Jap counter-attacked and the Army was hard pressed to hang on where they were.

Consequently, we'd no opportunity to do what we did best, which was to hit well dug in Jap defensive bunkers to assist the Army when they were on the offensive, (this would turn out to be be our major task in '44). The Jap didn't need bunkers now; he just employed his usual tactic of infiltration and encirclement which had served him so well so far. And of course you never knew exactly where he was at any one time, so you couldn't bomb him.

So, to start with, we had to go to where we knew he was, and that was in Akyab. Memory is a strange thing. I remember all the details of our first strike on the jail, but absolutely nothing about the second (Narigan bridge) or the third (Bume radio station) attacks on Akyab, other than that I must have gone there as it's in my logbook.

But the Jail sortie will do very well to begin with. And this description of it will do as a template for every VV operation which followed, for the modus operandi was always the same. Off we go, then.

I've said that we normally put up only six aircraft at a time. On this single occasion, we scraped up twelve - six from 110 and six from 82 Sqdn. 82 ("Out of the blue came Eighty-Two!") were to go in first. As a new boy on 110, I flew the 6 position, which would mean I would be the last man of all to go down. As I never flew in a 12-ship strike again, this was the only time I was able to watch all the action from the air.

Topper was leading our six. We came in from the North at 12,000 ft with 82 ahead. It was afternoon. As we reached the island, the heavies opened up. Our two formations were "weaving", flying a slow zig-zag with a course change every twenty seconds or so. This confuses the gun predictors, so the flak bursts were 2-300 ft off to the side, but uncomfortably accurate for height. We overflew the island, then turned left in a wide sweep over the mainland, flying right round until we reached Akyab again, but this time coming out of the haze and gloom of the eastern sky.

It was a clever ruse (if it was a ruse - perhaps the 82 leader had simply misjudged his first run-up). Later intelligence confirmed that the Jap had put out an air raid warning the first time. But as we didn't bomb, they assumed that we were going on somewhere else and sounded the all-clear. Second time round, we caught them napping, sitting with their evening rice.

The jail was a bomber's dream target. Built on the cart-wheel plan, I suppose it was 2-300 ft across. It was unmissable. It must have been the largest building on the island. As the last man on the line, I could allow myself room to watch the action. 82 were a mile ahead, so I watched them all go down. They were like beads sliding down a string, three spaced out at a time. I could see the bomb flashes dead on target, billowing up in smoke and dust.

Then it was our turn. Topper waggles his wings. This is the signal for the rear "vic" to drop back and move into echelon starboard. A few seconds later, he waggles again and opens his bomb doors. All open theirs. 3 and 6 (me) swing across into echelon on 2 and 5 respectively. Now we're all in a diagonal line like a skein of geese. (This formation change is made only at the last moment, for although it looks nice on the newsreels, it leaves you practically at the mercy of an attacker - and it advertises your imminent attack to any watcher on the ground).

Mechanically I go through my drill: Canopy shut, check bomb doors open, bomb switches "live", trims neutral, 2100 rpm, mixture rich, gyros caged, cowl gills closed, straps tight.

The first three go down. A few seconds later 4 goes over, settles in the dive and puts his brakes out. 5 puts his out as he rolls over. I put mine out, throttle back to a third and then roll. This gives us an extra bit of spacing for safety.

After that, it's simply "doin' what comes nacherly". Rolling over, I throw my head back and look straight down on the dust cloud over the jail - or what's left of it. Then it's just a matter of sighting down the yellow line and "flying" it onto the target. Feet braced on my big fat rudder pedals, I sense the dive is as near vertical as dammit - you can feel it with practice. Topper has done us proud, for this is a follow-my-leader operation, and if he's off vertical, then the whole thing will be a mess.

I can see 4 and 5 ahead for a few moments, then 4 pulls away from my field of vision. Bomb flash. I'm snatching quick glances at my altimeter, which is spinning like a broken clock, one sweep of the "big hand" every two or three seconds. 5 pulls away, keep line on target, bomb flash, 5000 ft, check line, 4000, check, 3500, press button (on throttle grip) and pull, pull, pull for dear life - literally - five seconds too late and you're dead.

Order your copy early for the Next Thrilling Instalment,

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


All in the day's work. 

Danny42C
7th Jun 2012, 01:22
 
angels,

Welcome back! Before I ventured onto this wonderful Thread last January, I'd read and re-read the 112 pages which had gone before, and remember well your late father's memoirs. You are quite right to be proud of him!

Things have changed since then, and I seem to be left "holding the fort", ever hoping that we can find more old-timers to lend a hand. The chance of getting actual participants is fading by the day, and the next best thing is to look to your generation (and the following one) to root out any memoirs that Dad or Grandad may have left tucked away at the back of a drawer. So if you've got any more, I'm sure that we all (Moderators included, if I may be so bold) would be more than glad to read them here

Goodnight, and thank you for your kind compliments,

Danny.

Chugalug2
7th Jun 2012, 08:49
...press button (on throttle grip) and pull, pull, pull for dear life - literally - five seconds too late and you're dead.
Danny, your literary style has us all squashed deep into our seats as we vicariously pull out of our own imaginary dives behind you. Your description brings home the devastating accuracy of the dive bomber and what made it a must have ingredient of any Air Force's toy box in the 30's. Those that went on using it into the 40's however must have known full well how dangerous it was, following the mauling the Stukas received in the Battle of Britain. Much respect then to them. Much respect then to you and to your colleagues!

angels
7th Jun 2012, 10:07
Danny - rest assured I'm on at friends, colleagues etc all the time to hoover up any stories their relatives may have!

Your story about your 'march' in Brazil contrasts so wonderfully with the official version. That's why the history of the 'ordinary Joe' is so important!

I recall Spike Milligan noted that during the desert campaign Churchill said in his history, "We moved xx Division from A to B". Simple eh?

Milligan goes on to describe that a move of some 15 miles was a total and utter shambles with no-one knowing what they were doing and it being a complete balls up which ended up with them going back to whence they came (and more seriously, incurring casualties from mortars).

That's real history!

Edited because I'm a proud bugger......:(

Danny42C
7th Jun 2012, 14:25
Reader123,

Welcome aboard to our virtual crewroom in the sky! (and so say all of us, I'm sure). Take a pew! Would have said "Hello" much earlier, but your Post must have crept in under the wire after I went to bed last night (Moderator casting eagle eye?).

Pushed for time, now (yes, really). Many of your Dad's themes ring my bell - will try to say a bit more tonight.

Danny42C

*********

Reader123

Back again! It sounds as if you must have heard many an interesting tale from your late father. Please rack your memory and see if you can recall more of the details - even if they seem random and disconnected to you. We may well be able to fill in some gaps, as of course you'll have seen happen in many a previous Post on this thread. Let's have all you can remenber - we'll be very grateful.

An engineer in command of a glider Squadron (where there aren't any engines?) Sounds incongruous to me, but what do I know? This is exactly the Alice-in-Wonderland sort of thing that went on all the time in war; if the White Rabbit came hopping into the Mess, no one would be in the least surprised (he'd be in a curry in no time). I can't remember gliders being used much, except possibly in Wingate-style incursions behind Jap lines, certainly there were no large scale Arnhem - like drops AFAIK.

Gin - would be Carew's - neat, it might well turn your stomach - it was only palatable as the basis for long drinks, you had to have something with it; as a last resort on a train one day we were reduced to Carnation tinned milk, the mixture wasn't at all bad. The slacks-and-long- sleeves rule after dark was a sensible anti-malarial precaution; the mossie comes out at dusk and goes for wrist and ankle. Only a newcomer would flout that order and he had to find out the hard way. Malaria untreated could very well kill you, but all M.O.s knew the beast well and how to treat it.

It wan't that we regarded malaria in a cavalier way, it was simply that it was so common that we simply accepted it as part of being out there. A silver cigarette case - now there would be a good use for ground radar! An auger? - your dad was lucky, pick and shovel for us! (Later on, I have written a thesis on the Deep Trench Latrine, but that will have to wait).

I am a bit doubtful about all-welded aircraft. That war was a throw-away economy is true. But the snag would have been that welding (and can you weld aluminium alloy?) needs very skilled tradesmen, whereas drilling holes and pop-riveting could quickly be taught to anyone who turned up at the factory gate.

Hope that helps,

Goodnight, Danny42C

Danny42C
9th Jun 2012, 00:58
Things go dark and I'm crushed down in my seat by "G" for a few moments, then I relax a bit and vision clears. Brakes in, we're in a 40-degree dive from a thousand feet, still with most of the 300 mph we picked up on the way down.

The sky looks like a dalmation dog, for light AA has been pumping away merrily for a minute or two. Surprised, it dawns on me that they're still firing at us. I feel quite indignant. Poor little me, what have I done to deserve being shot at at like this?

This dangerous reverie exasperates the battle-hardened Robbie behind. "Get weaving, Skipper", he roars, sees a gun position on the ground and gives it a long burst to distract the gunners from their aim. That wakens me up.

No time to ruminate - jink and get down on the deck as fast as you can! At this point I should explain that aircraft come out of the dive heading every which way, depending on where they were facing when they pressed the button, and that has been affected by the amount of "weathercocking" which they'd had to do on the way down. It was rather like a Red Arrow "bomb burst", only in sequence.

So you had to pick up your bearings, decide which way was home, and pull round onto it. It must have life more difficult for the AA, as no two of us were following the same path, and this was all to the good.

Now I'm sailing over the tree tops and out of most harm's way. Not entirely, any Jap with a rifle or LMG is going to try a potshot if he sees me in time and in range. It was not uncommon for aircraft to come back with small arms hits.

Dive bombers are a very hard target for AA. Before diving, they can weave as we did to keep out of trouble. Diving, they are well nigh impossible to hit. Pulling out, they are going so fast and low that aimed fire is ineffective. All the gunners can do is to put up a barrage through which they hope we might fly. If they get one it's pure luck. Having said that, I must admit there were cases of people just not pulling out of a dive. No one could say whether they'd been hit or not. The probability is that they were concentrating too hard and left the pull-out too late. The margin for error was tiny.

Once level, you can open your canopy and close bomb doors to reduce drag - but not while you're still pulling "G" in the turn onto the home straight! In a dive, the two internal 500 lb bombs, if simply dropped from the racks, might hit the front wall of the bay, or drop into the arc of the prop. Either way would be disastrous.

To avoid this each bomb is carried in a fork pivoted at the front of the bay. Round the bomb is clamped a "trunnion band" which carries the two "trunnions" - projections which engage in slots on the ends of the forks. Released, the bomb flies out and then off - safely - for you! (the Stuka used the same idea).

On pulling out, centrifugal force will continue to hold these forks out against the pull of "bungee" cords, even after the bombs have gone. There's always one who's too keen to pull in his doors - and traps them against the forks! Everything about a VV is massive - no damage is done. Following crews enjoy the spectacle of a big daddy-long-legs, slowed down by the dangling forks and half-open doors. It can take quite a while before the penny drops in the cockpit concerned.

Topper slows down to let the people behind catch up and get back into position. Here the dive brakes come in handy - you can come charging into the formation and pull up on the spot like a car in traffic.

When all are back in position, we climb to 1500 ft and the hang-up check starts. On the leader's waggle signal, all open doors. 6 leaves position and sweeps 20 ft under 1 - 5. He and his gunner scan every bay and wing for a bomb which should have gone - but hasn't. 6 goes back in position, 5 drops down and checks him. As all is clear, nothing need be said, and R/T silence is maintained.

In the gathering dusk, the flames in the exhaust stubs burned longer and brighter every minute. Chittagong airfield was tricky to get into at the best of times. The approach came over the docks, and you had to dodge the ships' masts to get down to the runway. All twelve landed safely.

Climbing down, I felt a tinge of self-satisfaction. I'd done my first "op". I'd struck a blow for King and country in return for their two years' investment in my training. From now on it would be payback time.

I really don't need to describe any more sorties, for the procedure was always the same. Only the targets differed, and from now on they would be mainly Jap bunker positions. As I've said, the two other strikes I flew to Akyab must have been carbon copies of this one (except that there were only six of us each time), but I can recall absolutely nothing about them.

Then the rains came and that was the end of our first "campaigning" season. It would be late October before we went back.

Next time we'll hear a bit about the experiences of the man in the back.

Once again, Goodnight all,

Danny42C




DCO 

Chugalug2
9th Jun 2012, 06:35
Danny, congratulations on your first OP and glad to hear that all 12 aircraft made it safely back! Your vivid description and detailed explanation brings a sequence of events, seen from afar as it were, to the very forefront of our minds. Of course, I can now see that as you roll left or right to keep that painted band on the nose of your aircraft lined up exactly with the target as you dive vertically onto it, your eventual pull out will be in almost any direction. Useful for confusing the AA guys, not so useful in confusing you, especially as the direction it takes you in might be the last one that you would want (rising terrain, enemy concentrations, the opposite way to the way back home!). The sheer danger of the dive, by leaving the recovery too late, is also clear. Miss-set altimeters, altimeter lag, even mental maths mistakes in adding 3500' to the target's altitude (I assume all this was on local QNH?), and of course misreading a frantically unwinding altimeter, could all make this procedure as terminal for the attacker as the attacked.
I believe that the Luftwaffe posted its creme de la creme to the Stuka. One can begin to see why!

Fareastdriver
9th Jun 2012, 09:10
I looked for Akyab Island and it took me to Sittwe, Burma. Just to the north of the final approach to runway 28 I found this place. You mentioned that the target looked like a cartwheel; would this be the one?

https://maps.google.co.uk/maps?ll=20.130553,92.891907&z=17&t=h&hl=en-GB

Danny42C
9th Jun 2012, 14:03
Fareastdriver

With 99% probability, Yes! (and sincere thanks for transporting an old man back to the days of his youth).

What we bombed would have been the circular structure to the W. IIRC, a ring of cell blocks took the place of the prison wall in our time, and I think that there were more than four radial wings - more like six and much more cramped. The structures to the E. were not there then. I would guess that they might be prison workshops now, as the wall runs right round. (Then they'd simply chain them up in gangs and set them to work on the land).

By the time I got to it, all I could see was smoke and dust; later intelligence confirmed that we had reduced it to rubble - the Jap had to make other arrangements for his HQ. How many did we kill? Don't know.

Yours gratefully,

Danny.

Danny42C
9th Jun 2012, 16:55
Chugalug,

The Stuka pilots might have been mit sahne, but I fear their RAF counterparts were a bit clotted at times! Yes, when you'd pressed the button, you'd no time to even wonder which way to turn - it was a case of pull out first and sort yourself out afterwards.

And if the sun was near the apex (as it could be in early May), and you were over a featureless landscape, it wasn't easy to decide which way to turn. For of course your DI was caged, the (panel) compass had gone to pot; any of your mates who happened to be in sight were as (temporarily) lost as you were. (You've a Navigator in the back? - Loud guffaw!) Luckily the jail wasn't far off the coast, so if you could tell the difference between the blue and the brown stuff on your map, you should be able to feel your way along.

We would not have known what a QNH was if it got up and bit us - or a QFE either, for that matter. You set your altimeter at zero when you started up and left it there. Luckily, there was nothing much above 200 ft amsl in the coastal plain of Arakan, and southern Bangladesh (East Bengal to us) mostly has about six inches of freeboard at high tide. And remenber, the weather would be glorious all the time. It was a case of: "No see, no fly".

Later, in Assam and points East, there were a lot of "hills" (aroud 7-8,000 ft) and you made due allowance in cross-countries. Luckily, we never had to bomb in the "hills", as we found it easier to run (and the Jap to chase us) - or vice versa - and do the fighting - in the jungles and paddy fields on the valley floors.

I had left Assam before the major Imphal/Kohima battle (which was in the hills), but I do not think they dared to use the VVs there, as the combatants were so closely locked together that blue-on-blue would be a certainty.

Happy days,


Danny.

mlc
11th Jun 2012, 08:58
Danny

If you click on the following link and scroll down to post 17, there's a photo that might get the memory banks stirring.

Lysanders but look at the codes.... - Key Publishing Ltd Aviation Forums (http://forum.keypublishing.com/showthread.php?t=100903)

Danny42C
11th Jun 2012, 19:56
Now might be a time to pause and recall a few details. First, what about the poor devil in the back? He had to go down "with his back to the engine", as he might be called on to man the guns as soon as we pullled out from the dive, should an "Oscar" bounce us - none ever did in fact, but you had to be ready for them all the same.

Half a mo' - you said your canopy was closed? If his was, too, the guns wouldn't be much use, would they? This difficulty had been foreseen (on all the front- line Squadrons), and dealt with by an unofficial "mod". (It was wonderful what you could get away with in those days; you didn't have to seek Higher Approval if you wanted to do a bit of DIY on your aircraft).

The last (curved) section of the canopy was a nuisance. When folded forward to free the guns, the gunner lost most of the room over the nav table, and it wasn't as easy for him and his pilot to shout at one another with that thing in the way (we didn't bother with the intercom much). It wasn't as if he was left out in the cold, as it were, for he still had the straight section of canopy over his head to keep the rain off.

So take the curved bit out and dump it! If you look at almost any pic of a "fighting" VV, you'll see that that bit is missing - it was "parade wear". (The OTU may have kept them in, but not sure). Were they ever put back? I suppose you would have to when the monsoon came, otherwise the guns would get wet (and the back of the VV fill with water!)

Another example, Vultee was worried that a pilot might close the throttle on landing with the mixture control well forward (leaned out) . Accordingly they fitted a one-way catch on the mixture control which enabled the throttle to push past it on opening, but would pull it back (into rich mixture) on closing.

Of course the thing was a damn nuisance in formation, for as luck would have it the best mixture setting was just at the point on the quadrant where your throttle was being jiggled to and fro. It was always getting in the way, and you had to keep resetting your mixture. Find a file, get rid of it!

Now what about the back seat man? At least he couldn't see his altimeter on the way down: he just had to trust his pilot and hope for the best. He had another problem in the early days. The guns were pivoted on a mounting, but the attachment wasn't quite strong enough in shear (with the whole load downward). Curiously, we had trouble with the front gun fixings too, but that is a story for another day.

In a dive, the pivot sometimes gave way and the twin guns fell into the gunner's lap. The weight pinioned him to his seat, garlanded with ammo belts, till they got down and somebody could release him.. I don't think any of them suffered much worse than a bruising (the armourers soon beefed the attachments up).

While not suffering much harm, it must have been rather uncomfortable (and just think what the effect might be, should you come to a sudden stop (crash landing, say), if it happened. 200 lb of steel battering ram a foot or so away level with your head wasn't a pleasant prospect.

From Wiki I read that the IAF believed that there had to be someone in the back seat on every dive, as otherwise the C of G would move forward and make the pull-out harder. Some straight-in accidents were ascribed to this. All I can say is that I never heard of it - but then IIRC I never dived solo myself. A good handful of trim should have sorted it out.

Talking of trims, I recall that, on one or two occasions, half way down in the dive, I spotted, out of the corner of my eye, the elevator trim wheel (the size of a dinner plate, easy enough to see) slowly winding forward (nose-heavy!) of its own volition. I grabbed it and hauled it back. It was just what you didn't need, midway in the dive.

Other people had had this experience, too, and it only seemed to happen when you were carrying a full load. But as it was very rare, and no one knew what it was or what to do about it, it was decided not to bother, but just put the word round as a case of a "watch it, chaps!" Perhaps something like that might account for the OTU "stoods" tent-pegging in (Did we warn them? Might have done. AFAIK, they'd only use practice bombs, anyway, so the problem shouldn't arise).

As a compensation for these minor inconveniences, the rear seat occupant didn't really have much to do. In formation, he would waggle his guns about a bit from time to time to show willing. Stew started off by testing his guns (as they'd taught him at gunnery school), by firing a burst into the side of the dispersal pen when we started up.

As this scared all the groundcrew witless (and me!), meant that he'd have to clean the guns himself when he got back, and was of no value at all (what was he going to do now if they were u/s? - we'd be rolling in a few minutes), he was ordered to desist.

On a sortie, everyone in the back had to act as a gunner, irrespective of rank or aircrew trade. And as all the pilots were in formation, the only one navigating was the leader. Although we'd all been to the briefing and tried to remember whatever jaw-cracking name of the place was that we were supposed to attack, in practice we were all in the invidious position of Christopher Columbus, who: "Didn't know where he was going when he set out, didn't know where he was when he got there, and didn't know where he'd been when he got back." (But Christopher made out all right, and so did we).

Next time we'll talk about hang-ups,

Evenin' all,

Danny42C.


I thought you had control.

Danny42C
11th Jun 2012, 23:58
mic,

Stirring memories, indeed! Now you've really set me off! I clicked the link, and was soon in way over my head. Only thing to do: get pen and notebook and make notes on the 25 (if I've counted right) intriguing pics, otherwise would be hopelessly at sea in my reply. Three pages of notes so far!

Imp of mischief whispered in my ear: many of these would do well in a Caption Competition! Compromise with imp: will put his suggestions in in italics (Editor disclaims all responsibility for views expressed by imp). Pics numbered in order of appearance.

Have introduced new acronym (is it allowed?) - "IK", means "Insufficient Knowledge" - (cop-out minute on files by lazy Staff Officers in my day - wouldn't dare today, I suppose). In plain words: "Know nowt about it/them!"

Pic 1. (Oops!) Some little chap has had a mishap. (Lysanders? - IK).

2. Looks mid-monsoonish. We did not deal in squadron letters much, all my log entries are serial nos., I got as far as VV EZ993, not far from the Camden EZ999. Can't remember what our letters were in either 110 or 8(IAF) Sqdns, so can't help here. Sorry.

3. The lone "F" would probably be on a training unit. 31 Sqdn were the much loved Daks we saw the most of at Chittagong - always good for a lift to Cal!

4. I think this is very early on (pre-war?) Note large serial numbers painted
under wing of Wapiti. Are those bomb racks ? (look horribly flimsy to me). Another indication of early days: "Bombay Bowlers" proudly worn. There seems to be extensive construction work going on in the background.

5. That is the scruffiest aircraft I ever saw outside a scrapyard! Surely that Audax didn't fly! It's a disgrace to the RAF. (possibly a training hulk) (Happy BB wearers again). Mystery object? Beats me! ("we lent it to the Taliban, Sarge, and this is how it came back - but they gave us this feather-duster thing to help clean it up, they hadn't any feathers, so they tied on a bunch of rags")........

6. Gets chilly in the North in winter - lad's wearing his No.1 jacket over a shirt - (jacket'll have to go to the dhobi before next parade). Has ditched BB in favour of Cap FS. Progress - of a sort.

Note: the www.bharat-rackshak.com/IAF (http://www.pprune.org/www.bharat-rackshak.com/IAF) link you gave is well worth a look.

7. No comment.

8. Could this be another Tiger of Hyderabad ?


9. Looks like a jack-up after a belly landing. Nose of a/c (Dak?) looks funny in some way. Now there's a ladder and a half! Best of luck!

10. Nice line of VVs there. Would like to know what was painted on nose just below front screen.

11. and 12. There's posh for you! A/C all bulled-up, BBs correctly worn. Must be be VIP in vicinity.

13. "Are you all right? " - 0r - "White ants again, Sarge!"

14. "The M.U. says the prop and wings should be coming along next week, Sarge" - Or - "Put that man on a charge for having a dented Bowler!"

15. Welcome breeze today - blown BB off head of man in foreground, retained by chin strap (normally across top front). VV on far side missed the draft.

16. Fine body of good-looking castaways - and not one with BMI>20! (Obesity hadn't been invented).

17. Cor! Burra-burra Sahib and Memsahib and ADCs stroll over to their car.

18. They also serve who only stand and wait. (Coffee and biscuits being finished off on board by VIP party.

19. "And the winner in the How Far can you Throw the Passengers' Luggage Competition is ........"

20. "Now which one was it they told me to press to drop that bomb?"

21. and 22. (Beaufort - IK). What is that thing on wing outboard of bomb rack? On both (nice) pics.

23. (Hudson - IK). Posh - note socks pulled up. Or "What the Butler Saw".

24. and 25. Mohawks (knuckles and all). 5 Sqdn had them in N.Burma in '44. Or "Where did you get that Hat?"

It is noteworthy that all the aircraft seen are carrying the old three-colour roundel. This means that the pictures were taken very early in the war, for all operational aircraft would have the two-colour (blue and white) of ACSEA.

Hope that helped (I've had some fun with it!) Thanks a lot, mic, for putting it in for me.

Danny.

Chugalug2
13th Jun 2012, 08:52
More welcome "by the way" gems for us to pick at, Danny, thank you!
Your rear crew-man must have had some official status, presumably that of Air Gunner, as you seem to characterise his navigational skill as simply the ability to find the aircraft in order to climb into it! I think if I had been in his shoes I would have ever happily traded sight of the altimeter for the opportunity to sit facing rearwards and hence fully supported by my seat back, in preference to hanging by my straps in that prolonged vertical dive towards enemy ground fire. What the eye don't see the heart doesn't grieve over...on the other hand collecting a lap full of machine guns and ammo on the way would be rather a turn-off!
The most scary part of your post though is the ability of the elevator trim to arbitrarily wind in nose down trim into a dive that will already require all your strength to pull out of anyway! You saying that no one really knew why, and that the DS solution was merely to keep an eye out for it, hardly inspires confidence. I wonder if the pampered pilots of the MkIV had to contend with the same phenomena? Probably not, as it seems that they, like me, simply passed their time in straight and level flight, though whether tea came on the hour every hour I rather doubt.
Keep it coming Danny. It's pure gold!

nedguy
13th Jun 2012, 16:28
Riveting story, Regle.

Not long after your lucky escape (http://www.pprune.org/military-aircrew/329990-gaining-r-f-pilots-brevet-ww11-19.html#post4590835) Bill Blessing was made a Sqdn Ldr, awarded the DSO & DFC (http://cas.awm.gov.au/item/UK0331), married his WAAF girlfriend*, and was shot down & killed over Caen by a German nightfighter on 7 July 1944.

(*Pamela Birch. My mum by a later marriage. Sadly she died 48 hrs ago, which is how, thanks to Google, I saw your post while researching her eulogy)

Danny42C
14th Jun 2012, 01:20
Chugalug,

You do me too much honour (but keep it coming!)

As regards the status of the chaps in the back; they were the remains of the old Blenheim crews who'd come out in the first panic in mid '42, so there were two claimants for each seat in the VV (they didn't claim all that hard). The surplus went to all sorts of odd jobs, as in India we only had a few B-24s and Catalinas that carried full crews.

There were plenty of Daks, but I think it was all a bit casual as to who sat in the dicky seat - could be a pilot if they had one, possibly a nav, or a w/op (he could be of some use, getting bearings and things) - or simply a favoured passenger. (QA or PMRAFNS preferred!). Don't really know.

When the Beaus and Mossies came out, complete crews came with them, of course. I don't think there were any Conversion Units out there as far as I remember. The VV OTU in Peshawar (Ambala?) was only set up late in the day, to supply crews for the two IAF Squadrons, and really they only operated for one whole dry season (43/44) before they were pulled out.

As for Mk. IVs, none got to India to my knowledge, some went to the RAAF, some to the UK (all as target tugs), and the USAAC (at whose behest an Angle of Incidence had been put on the wing) did nothing much with the A-35s they took. Wiki tells me all this, and that the Free French tried them in N. Africa without much success. I don't think any did much diving, except possibly in Aus.

I agree with you - if I were in the back I'm sure I would have found it more comfortable looking up - if the guns are going to fall on me, I'd like to see them coming, - and I'd rather not see the altimeter, if you don't mind!

As to the trim problem, I'm no aerodynamicist; perhaps the trim tabs on the elevators, riding "free" in the dive as they were, could push back in the airstream to line up with them. As the tabs would normally be depressed (= elevator slightly up), this would produce the effect. (All right, clever Dick, account for it only happening with a 250 on each wing?) A disturbed airflow "wiggling" the elevators in some way? (I've got an answer for everything,
haven't I ?)......... I'll get my hat.

Cup of tea every hour on the hour? (One day - in ATC - but not yet!)

Keep the questions coming (and criticisms always welcome),

Cheers,
Danny.

(Can not get this spacing under control - probably me - sorry)....D

Re: Previous Post #2660, think Moderator best person to handle..Agree?..D

Chugalug2
14th Jun 2012, 07:12
Danny, as time is of the essence, I have taken the liberty of sending a PM to nedguy informing him of the sad loss of Reg Levy. I'm possibly not alone in having done that. The loose hand that the Mods allow us in this Forum and in particular on this thread means that it would be by no means certain that his post was seen and answered promptly. I hope that is how they see it anyway!
I'm sure that we all are as one here in expressing our sympathy to nedguy at the sad loss of his mother so recently. As a member of the WAAF, with a life so inextricably woven into the fabric of those already told on this thread, it would be good, I think, if her WWII story, even though not RAF, not a pilot, and not having a brevet, might one day be told here.
Another member of a remarkable generation.
RIP Pamela Birch.

Icare9
16th Jun 2012, 09:03
With all the fuss about the Bomber Command Memorial, are there any followers of this thread going? If so, perhaps they could help Danny's pleas for more memories to be shared.

That must be the last rich "fishing ground" for further contributors to keep this thread alive as a testament to those 55,000 plus men who didn't have an opportunity to tell THEIR stories.....

So, please, anyone going, take a note of the PPRuNe thread ISP and pass it around. Anyone getting a chance to snaffle a Guest List of the invitees might find some useful Names to contact... (since when was it expected that the people it commemorates who have to APPLY to be there?).

I can't imagine anyone who organised a "commemoration" of England National team footballers over the years and then omitted the World Cup squads, and how much mock outrage would be expressed about that.

Come to that, wouldn't it be a wonderful gesture if the current England Euro 2012 team to all give up their fees and donate to the Memorial Appeal? For once I could forgive these muppets their overpaid and overinflated egos?

Ah well, I can but dream ..........

Sorry, Danny, please carry on with the enthralling tales!

Reader123
16th Jun 2012, 17:24
Danny, thank you for your message. You are, of course right, rivets - instead of nuts and bolts; still no maintenance.

It was in anticipation of your deep trench latrine that I mentioned the auger. (I remember his asking why we didn't have one for digging them at Scout camp...)

He used to mention the ghastly prickly heat he - and many others - suffered from, and how the only place where relief was available was at the cinema, being as it was air conditioned. The useful piece of advice that if somebody is coming at you with a bayonet you need a .45 not a .38 otherwise he might still kill you after you'd shot him dead.

Mostly it was funny stories, like the American in the hut (?) next to his who was shooting up beer bottles, drunk, one night. (Did you get a lot of Americans staying with the RAF?) Or the blankets that had gone missing from stores and a great kerfuffle ensued until he had the bright idea of redesignating them as "rags, aircraft for the cleaning of" which seemed to cure the problem as they then became expendable.

But why was he always so grateful to the Salvation Army for providing him with cups of tea when he was in India? Didn't he have a wallah to provide them?

Danny42C
16th Jun 2012, 18:21
Icare9

Thank you for your warm words of encouragement - they help to keep me going! It seems (at the moment at least) that there simply may be no more contributors to come forward to carry the torch on when I go. I hope I'm wrong, but, as you say the "fishing" is meeting with little success.

We have to realise that a): there can be only few of us left, b): few of those are on line and c): those that are are keeping their heads down, as I did myself for six months before timidly offering my two cents' worth. ("Never volunteer for anything" was the first thing all recruits learnt!)

I am 100% with you on the scandal of the handful of survivors having to apply for places at the Bomber Command Memorial opening ceremony.
They (and their close families) should be there as of right. There is worse; read the thread "Freddie Johnson, DFC" , and despair of this country.

As for football and footballers - you take the words right out of my mouth! But you are on dangerous ground; it is the new State Religion: its adherents (the real ones and the Great and the Good who pretend to be) would gladly burn you at the stake if they could (if H&S allowed).

Me? I'll just sharpen my quill and get on with the next Gripping Episode.

Danny.

Danny42C
16th Jun 2012, 19:06
Chugalug,

Thank you for taking the lead and letting nedguy know the position. I would have been a bit uncertain about a PM. He was then still a Probationary PPRuNer - when I came aboard in January, the Moderator checked my first five Posts before letting them loose on Thread. Did Homer nod in this case?

As I recall, you sent me a very helpful PM of advice when I started - and then you had to tell me on a Post that you'd done so, as I didn't know they even existed, and then I had to reply on Post as I'd no idea how to reply on PM! (Later on, I ran up seven unanswered PMs before I noticed - how did we ever win a war?) EDIT: On checking back, I find it was Cliff (RIP) who was the first to run foul of my ineptitude - very sorry, Chug. Your turn to suffer from it came later. Only excuse, "Short Term Memory Loss" (afflicts younsters of my age).

Agreed, there must be thousands of good stories waiting to be told by the surviving erks and erkesses of those days. I'm glad that the Moderators let them in, for the brevet-wearers are thin on the ground now.

Say not the struggle naught availeth,

Danny.

Danny42C
16th Jun 2012, 23:42
savimosh01

I've sent you a PM about your kind offer of a complimentary copy of your book - I much appreciate it.

Some names off the top of my head which may be useful:

I'm afraid the name "Mosher" doesn't ring a bell. But he may have been in "B" flight (the Flights were quite remarkably autonomous, and even in the mess you'd tend to socialise with the people you worked with). He may have come on the Squadron after I left (for 8 Sqdn.) in November '43 (unlikely), - or did he come with the Mossies (which took over from the VVs in late '44) ?

Against that, I think I do vaguely recall on "A" Flight a Sgt-Pilot "Robbie" Robinson; we also had a P/O "Robbie" Robertson (nav), who flew with me on my first three 'ops'.

As for adventures in Afghanistan, and a Pancho and Chico, I'm at a loss.("Chico" was a generic term for any little Indian lad, could he be one such earning an anna or two doing odd jobs round camp? Or were they both "bearers"?

A nav/wop-ag might "crew up", and fly mostly with one pilot, but there was so much messing about that everybody flew with everybody else on the Flight at one time or another. From my logbook I can give you Sgts Payne, Denton, Stewart-Mobsby (my usual wop-ag), Mills, Turner, Brown, Lewis, Foster and F/Sgt Skelton.

In addition I had a F/O Baldwin and P/O Robertson (both navs), and No, F/O Baldwin was not the one who got the Flight comprehensively lost on the way to war, he of the air commodore's braid and golden wings - I never flew with him on 110 Sqdn. But he came over to 8 with us, I flew with him then a couple of times (on the clear understanding that I would do any navigation involved).

Dave Cummin I don't recall - probably on "B" Flight (and Sgt or P/O?) - we could have been in different Messes.

As for pilots, I was saddened to hear of the death of Reg Duncan. He was a grand chap - did he ever speak of his dog "Spunky" ? I'll put the (sad) story in on my next "main" Post.

Topper" was a great Flight Commander (and he acted as Squadron Commander for most of the time, as S/Ldrs seemed to come and go). Did he ever tell of the lovely little dachshund he had in Khumbirgram , and how it would try to see off the Works & Bricks elephant which worked round the Flights?

Edward Helliwell I don't remember, but the same applies as in the case of Dave Cummin - different Flights or ranks, or both = different worlds!

Also as certifying Officers in my log, I give you S/Ldrs Lambert, Gill and Penny (Perry?); F/Lts "Crudsell" (or something like it), D.J. Ritchie (RAAF); F/Os H.P. Brooke and D. Hedley.

My W/O (Pilot) Doug "McEvoy", RNZAF, (a few posts back) was of course your "McIlroy". Some day I'll try to get on Post my (one and only) pic of "A" Flt, taken in New Year '43.

That's about all I can usefully add at the moment,

Cheers,

Danny.

Danny42C
18th Jun 2012, 00:39
savimosh01,


It would seem our Posts "crossed in the post" as it were. First, I am sorry if you misunderstood my light-hearted use of the word "betters" (referring to navs/wop/ags in relation to pilots). No real denigration was implied!

Of course, this was all part of the good-humoured banter that went (and I hope still goes) on all the time in war (and peace) in the RAF. The "lesser breeds" responded vigorously, sarcastically referring to "The Lords of the Universe", "The twin-winged Master Race", and much more not printable in a family publication. Even in the hallowed reaches of civil aviation, it is a commonplace that "God lives in the Left Hand Seat", and similar comments of the same ilk. There's no harm in it - don't worry about it.

Your father must have joined 110 just about the time (Oct '43) as I left it for 8 (IAF). Did he ever speak of the air raid on Khumbirgram, which happened just before I left? With all that was going on at the same time, it is no surprise that I can't now remember the name. So many names!

I am very interested in the Takoradi detachment in '44, which, AFAIK, was tasked to do the first anti-malarial spray trials with the new magic stuff (DDT) - before its toxicity was recognised. I didn't know that they had Mk. IVs for the job. (They might have done better with Mk. IIIs, as it turned out, apparently).

My interest is this: I was employed in a similar business, using the same spray tanks, in 1340 (Special Duty) Flight in Cannanore (S. India). Ours was a grimmer task, we were spraying mustard and phosgene gases (for the purpose of evaluating methods of defence, of course). We were allowed to continue our planned trials to completion for a few months after the war, and then we cleaned out the tanks and had a go at the anti-malaria spraying ourselves.

I think the solvent used was kerosene, but am not sure. As this was in Jany '46, much water must flow down the Ganges before my Posts get there. One thing: I have a good pic of a VV flying with these spray tanks fitted (underwing). This may be the only one in the world - at least, I have never seen another.

This may be a good opportunity to relate a sad story about the untimely end of Reg Duncan's dog "Spunky".

While we were at Madhaiganj, Reg had picked up a better-class stray dog. "Spunky" must have had a lot of proper dog in him, and was growing up into quite a handsome animal. In my logbook is an old photo of "A" Flight, with the pair together among the rest of us on an aircraft wing. The two were inseparable, Reg doted on his dog; he was the Flight mascot and a great favourite of all. But "Spunky" picked up some spreading skin ailment which had him tearing all his fur off.

"Pete" Latcham, our M.O., did his best, for he knew how much "Spunky" meant to Reg. But none of his unguents did any good, things were only getting worse and the dog was obviously suffering. There was only one thing left. Reg had to take his pistol and perform the last act of kindness for his friend. Everybody was sad for quite a while. This must have happened while I was away in hospital in the March, for people were still talking about it when I got back in April.

I don't normally mix the main narrative with the personal exchanges, but there is a particular reason in this case. So here is the promised section on bomb hang-ups.

Hang-ups are rare, but can be very dangerous. If you have one, you try to get rid of it safely by chucking the aircraft about over water or open country. If it still refuses to budge, you have a difficult decision. In theory, if the switches are "safe", the thing should be harmless and you can land with it - or even crash with it, (as I proved the following year}. But it ain't necessarily so.

Shortly after I left Khumbirgram on posting to 8 Sqdn. a crew was killed there when a wing hang-up dropped on landing and exploded when it hit the runway. I think 8 Sqdn. were still "working up" far back in Bengal at the time, so details of the affair were sketchy and took some time to reach us.

It is difficult to imagine how this came to happen. Did the pilot not know he had a hang up? Impossible, you'd say, from what I've been telling you about the hang-up check a few posts ago.

Confession is good for the soul ! The whole of my tale about the jail sortie is perfectly true. But it's actually a composite of my first VV strikes (where in truth we just formed up and went home after bombing) and later ones when this mandatory check had been introduced. (It seemed neater for me to tell the two parts of story in one piece, as it were, as I didn't intend to tell it again - mea culpa!)

So in the early days, not only did we not do any checks, but a practice had sprung up whereby the bomb switches were left "live" after we'd bombed until landing and switch-off. There was some method in this madness.

When a bomb drops, a loop in a wire "fusing link" is held back in the rack by a solenoid bolt which closes when the rack is switched to "live". The other (two) ends of this wire "link" run through holes in a sort of "safety cap", and locks this onto the end of the bomb fuse on which it is loosely threaded. (Same way as a split-pin locks a nut).

This cap protects the detonator inside from accidental impact, (but not from idiots with hammers and chisels!). Incidentally, there are two fuses to a bomb, nose and tail.

It is amazing what blows this cap can survive and still do its job. If a bomb is dropped "safe", the solenoid bolt stays open, the fusing link goes off with the bomb, so the cap stays on the fuse, still held by the wire. It can now go down 20,000 ft into the ground and (should) not go off.

But if the bomb has gone "live", the wire is held back in the rack; the cap has lost its locking. "Windmill" vanes are machined round its circumference, it is loose on the thread, the airflow spins it off in a moment, away we go.

That is rather a cumbersome explanation, but it brings us to the point. If you return the switches to "safe" after dropping your bombs, the solenoids withdraw, the links fall out and are lost. Why should that matter?

Because, if you come back with no links, there is at least a possibility (worse, even suspicion) that you have stupidly "bombed safe". With your links "all present and correct", you're in the clear. Also, you don't need new links for the next lot of bombs (there may even have been a shortage of links - it's exactly the sort of small, cheap, insignificant thing we would be short of), and it's one less job for the armourers. Leave the links in (switches "live").

Good idea? So we thought. And now we can see what might happen. Suppose you have an unnoticed hang-up, it falls off as you land. That's it ! How could it come to be unnoticed on a wing when the pilot rejoined the formation? Only if he were the last man, and it was on an outside wing, it might be possible that no other pilot would notice it. But then, couldn't a gunner on an aircraft ahead, looking back, spot it?

Supposing he did know, he would certainly have done his best to get rid of it, failed and concluded that a landing was safe - it wasn't!

The switches would have gone back to safe, of course, but the trouble with a hang-up is that you never know just how things are in the rack. The bolt may have jammed in the closed position (rear door in my very old car jammed a few months ago, very similar mechanism; main agent estimate £500 [ouch!]; friendly auto-elec chap down road: 3hrs @ £20 = £60 - fixed). And how securely is the claw still holding your bomb? You don't know.

In this way we lost two good men. In fact, it was a risk too far (my log tells me I've done it myself on one occasion, I was lucky). Really, the only sensible thing to do was to bale out and let the aircraft go - there were plenty more where it came from, and a crew is worth more than an aircraft.

I believe that it was in consequence of this accident that hang-up checks became the rule.

One curious little thing: the front fuse cap spun off well clear of the aircraft and was lost (I can see some museum director in the future trying to puzzle out what this little round thing, dug up by a treasure-hunter, might be).

But the tail fuse safety device took the shape of a little sheet-metal butterfly-shaped thing (I've no idea how it worked). On quite a few occasions, an aircraft would come back with this thing embedded in a flap. It was too small to do any real damage, but the flap had to be patched after you pulled it out. It was a nuisance.

Now I must link this to a strange contradiction. I quote from "Vengeance", by Peter C. Smith, published 1986 by Airlife Publishing Ltd. (ISBN 0 906393 65 5) - (I trust this will be acceptable as a sufficient acknowlegment).

(Page 117, end):

"Glyn Hansford was an armourer with 110 Squadron. His mount was a three-ton Chevrolet truck rather than a dive-bomber, but he and his companions played their full part in this campaign. It was one continuing round to keep the planes flying, but some incidents stood out, as he related to me,* and the one just mentioned was one of them".

"There were many acts of courage and devotion to duty. One of the most vivid was that of a Canadian pilot, Flying Officer Duncan, who returned from a sortie with a bomb hung-up, which he could not shake off at all. He attempted to land with it on, a very risky thing to do, and it blew up as he touched down. He and his aircraft were totally destroyed, along with his little pet dog, which he had taken with him on every mission." **

* The speaker is a F/O "Red" (sometimes "Bud") McInnis, RCAF. (He was on "B" Flight, but I knew him well - and I took over his unit when he returned to Canada in April '45).

** (Underlining is mine) I cannot believe this. Can you?

The news of this accident, when it later reached us on 8 Squadron, named Reg Duncan as the pilot concerned, and we saw no reason to doubt it. I had originally named him as such in my earlier draft on the hang-up story, but edited it to remove the name before putting it on this thread.

Peter C. Smith is a highly respected aviation writer.

Now what? It's beyond me. (110 Squadron War Diary - F.540 - must have a full record of this incident; I look to those more computer-skilled than I to find a possible explanation).


EDIT:.......... I have now checked the C.W.G.C. - There is no record of a grave in India or Burma (Myanmar). The mystery deepens. I would have discounted Hansford's evidence on the ground of his last ridiculous sentence alone (about the little dog), but for the backing of Red McInnis. (How could you dive bomb with a dog on board - how could you secure him ?)..........(19 Jun 12, 1620hrs)....D.



Goodnight, all,

Danny42C

You never know

Danny42C
18th Jun 2012, 01:32
To Reader123
  
Rivets: it's true that they're a low maintenance item when they're new, but as they were light alloy (which didn't matter much when the life of an aircraft would only be a few months), corrosion became a nightmare for enthusiasts trying to rebuild them maybe forty years after. They had to drill 'em all out and start again.

Deep trench latrines - it's not a pleasant subject, but then they played an important part in our lives and I have an amusing tale to tell about them - but not now!

From what you tell me, I can fix your Dad fairly confidently. The only air-conditioned cinema I know was in Calcutta, in Chowringhee, not far down from the Grand hotel, which your father would have known very well (air conditioning was very new then, the Grand certainly didn't have any). We had to do our best with fans or (out in the bundoo where there was no electricity, punkhas) - a punkha-wallah was a must in any office or workshop. Do you remember the punkha-wallah in "It ain't half hot, Mum"? (he'd let loose a stream of Hindi with the last few words in English - they actually do that quite often).


There were no char-wallahs? Not in a busy city like Calcutta, there wouldn't be. they were creatures of the camps far out in the wilds, where there was no competition.


Prickly heat; yes it was terrible. wear nothing tight (certainly no underclothes) and drink plenty of soft drinks, (it'll come straight out again as sweat, but it seems to ward off the dreaded prickly). And of course, Calcutta (along the river) was particularly hot and sticky from March onwards. All the Memsahibs and the families trooped off to Darjeeling for the hot months, leaving Dad behind to sweat it out, earning a living.

Americans: there were a lot about but we were all busy with our own little bits of the war and didn't have many dealings with them (they envied us our Boy-Scout shorts in the heat).

I gather your father was an engineer officer; there were plenty of Engineering and Equipment units of all kinds all over town, from the huge arms factory out at Dum-Dum downwards.

The blanket/rags tale goes back to WW1: The original story goes like this: some officer was responsible for a batch of water tanks, some had been nicked. He stood to have to make the loss good out of his pay (and they were very expensive).

He reported the loss of the same number of water bottles, (these were dirt cheap). A week or two later, he put in an amendment slip to his original loss report: "For "Bottles", read "Tanks". A bored clerk passed it through unnoticed: he was in the clear........ (Les silences du Colonel Bramble)....... Author forgotten (Andre Maurois??). ............ Someone will tell us.

Cheers,

Danny.

 

Danny42C
19th Jun 2012, 18:14
FIRST, READ EDIT TO MY POST # 2668 TO savimosh01

At Chittagong, the record in my logbook breaks off briefly until June 5, when the rain must have slackened off sufficiently to allow a formation trip. My log drily notes "Electrical Failure", but no more. I can only assume that the EDP mod had been done on my a/c; indeed we'd have been idiots to go to war with the chance of having to wobble-pump home!

On the 8th, another strange one: "To Panda & return" - 40 min. Twenty minutes each way - say 40 miles. Where had we started from? (Pandaveswar is a good 180 miles from Chittagong). What did I go for? Don't know.

This will be my constant refrain for the the whole of the next five months, until the 15th October, when we would go and start operations again. P/O "Robbie" Robertson (my nav on my first three ops) has vanished. In the meantime I was flying with all and sundry till further notice.

July, all formation except the on the 3rd - "Air Firing" - just that. Where was the range? What did we fire at? Front guns or back or both? How did we get on? - not a solitary clue.

On the 27th, "Stew" (F/Sgt now) turns up from somewhere - no idea from where. We will stay together as a crew from now on.

August, lots more formation, a bit of fighter affiliation. On one day, I fly with a Battery Sgt-Major Callum (what was that all about?) The last two entries for the month (12th & 13th) are puzzles. "Air/Ground firing" - no wiser! Last one: "Bombing - 2x250 - formation".

Why would you waste 250 lb bombs on some sort of exercise, when 11 lb practice ones are available? Where was the range?

By now my readers (if they're still awake) are as sick of the question marks as I am. let's forget them. September, some good news, my commission has come through. George Davies (whose own had come a month before) welcomes me into the Mess. (Trip to Calcutta, buy new hat, have photo taken, find to my dismay that Calcutta full of troops, now have to return twenty salutes for every one I used to have to give - buzz soon wears off).

I was lumbered with the job of Squadron Entertainments Officer. This was a sinecure, as there were no entertainments other than the very rare visits from a travelling Services Entertainments Party, and none of these came anywhere near us in my time. As we had no power (and dry batteries were practically unobtainable), there was no domestic radio; our only resource was the wind-up gramophone (Grandma will explain).

You couldn't get the steel needles you had to use with them, but it had been found that a particularly hard thorn was almost as good. You could get packets of these at an extortionate price in the Calcutta bazaars; it was really not much hardship to go down to 'Cal' every so often, have a night in the Grand and come back with a big bag of these.

Although Concert Parties were rare, I must say that the 1970s TV comedy "It ain't half hot, Mum" was remarkably near the mark. Some of these shows were local amateur efforts, and cringe-makedly bad. But they were doing their level best, and meant well, so of course you had to polish your buttons and turn up to support and applaud, even if you did regard them as one of the Horrors of War.

There are huge blank periods in the log. 14 Aug/21 Sep, and 23 Sep/3 Oct. There would have been a lot of leave periods at this time. Mostly these would have been spent in Calcutta (as I intend to devote a whole Post later to Kipling's "City of Dreadful Night", I shall not elaborate now).

On one occasion we (Stew and I) went up to Darjeeling for a couple of weeks and revelled in the blessed coolness. Don't remember much about it, except that we got up at crack of dawn one morning to climb a hill from the top of which it was alleged you could see sunrise over Everest. (E. covered in cloud, of course, should've stayed in bed and bought postcard instead).

After you've waded through that lot, there are more interesting bits to come next time. On 15th October the Squadron flew Digri - Jessore - Khumbir(gram) (way up North in Assam) - we got the navigation right this time! - clocked 3 hrs, 30 min, about 500 miles plus pitstop. Now we're back in business again!

Cheerio,

Danny42C

Chocks away!

Danny42C
19th Jun 2012, 23:16
savimosh01, 
 
We seem to be unravelling the mystery at last! There's not much more to be said; I'll just add a few comments to clear the air, dot the i's and cross the t's.

I'm very glad to hear that Reg Duncan lived a full life to the end, I remember him well as a cheerful and very popular friend on "A" Flight. I am sorry for Tony Davies and his gunner "Jackie" Robertson. Are we sure he was a gunner? My man was a nav: P/O "Robbie" Robertson, I think we may have two different people.

Coincidentally, "A" Flight had a P/O George Davies (Davis?) RAFVR, also a pilot.
I never knew the OTU at Peshawar (152 - didn't know the number), took RCAF (and RAF) people in, thought only IAF were trained there.

I never knew the early history of "Spunky"; I was always a bit doubtful about the "stray" theory. The rabies danger made it very unwise to adopt a "pi" pup, however cuddly he might look. So that was the story Reg told - just like him, to conceal a truth which might upset a hearer (and himself), without actually telling a lie.

I would have been on the phone to Peter Smith the moment the book appeared! As Mark Twain (?) put it: "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated!" So he had a pile of unsold books? Stick an amendment slip in! What's the problem?

I still cannot grasp how a Squadron can have casualties, bury them, and then let the wrong names get out to the rest of the RAF. Yet that is what seems to have happened.

S/Ldr N. Prasad was the C.O. of 8 (IAF) Sqdn when I joined them on 18 Nov '43. The move to Double Moorings was on 12 Dec '43. S/Ldr Ira Sutherland, RNZAF, first signs my log as C.O. on 29 Feb '44 - he may have taken over earlier in the month. (I had been hors de combat since the 24th).

On 17 Dec '43 I went to THAUNGDARA in a box of six. Don't remember ever flying in a 12 again.

Now I think we can put it all to rest

I was very sorry to hear that "Topper's" son has also passed away. How old it makes me feel.

Regards,

Danny.

Danny42C
20th Jun 2012, 23:07
We flew up to Khumbirgram (hereinafter "K") in 15th October '43, I flew my first sortie on the 21st, and on 18th November, Stew and I, and another crew from "B" Flight, were posted to 8 (IAF) Squadron back in West Bengal. So we were there only a month, but (in contrast with the last dull five months) it was packed with action!

A quick tour round K first: it was in a scenic valley up in the Assam hills, a dozen or so miles NE of Silchar. Very unusually, they'd built a concrete runway along the valley floor, obviously intending to stay there for good (it's there yet). They were also building proper dispersal pens and concrete taxiways on our side (the south) of the runway.

"A" Flight bagged some of these; "B" Flight had to make do with just the trees on the far side plus their camouflage to protect them (it proved a blessing in the end!) 45 Sqdn took some of the south dispersals.

The Mess was on top of the hill on our side. It had been a planter's bungalow. The whole hillside was a working tea garden and the scent of the fresh tea tips being harvested from the bushes filled the valley in the cool, fresh mornings.

The planter was away for the duration as a reserve officer in the Indian Army. His Indian foreman was running the show while he was gone; if the planter had a wife and family, there was no sign of them - they would probably have gone back to the UK if they could, or if not were settled in some hill station well to the west out of harm's way.

The large and palatial bungalow had been taken over by the RAF; we had our Mess, anteroom, billiard room and bar in it; our accomodation was in individual "bashas" in the former garden and tennis court.

Amusingly, I recently read on an IAF website, a grumble from a later ex-IAF pilot (7 Sqdn?) who was out in the wilds at Uderbund (not far North, over the hills), to the effect that the Sahibs had pinched all the best accomodation, leaving them out in the bundoo - the exact same complaint I made in one of my Posts long ago (Hullavington) about our transatlantic cousins! You get the picture.

Assam in those days was still tiger country, and there was an amusing incident one night. We had locally recruited chowkidars (guards) keeping night watch on the aircraft. Nothing much ever happened, no one was going to pinch the things and there was little danger of sabotage. So one of our chaps was having forty winks.

He was roused by an animal nuzzling his hand in a friendly way, like a dog. Opening his eyes he found himself nose to nose with a full grown tiger. With a howl of terror, he dropped his rifle (probably empty, anyway), and shot off in one direction,An equally shocked tiger fled in the other - he must have been kin to the Cowardly Lion of the "Wizard of Oz", or Ferdinand the Bull (remember him?), who "just liked to smell the flowers". Or, more probably, he was already full of the villagers' goats.

The tiger is a territorial beast, and it seemed we were on this one's patch. Weeks of tiger-awareness (not to say tigerphobia) followed. As with ghost stories, it is easy to be brave in broad daylight, but when night breezes rustle the bushes, and moonlight shadows move, tigers popped up all over the place.

It must have been on my mind. I awoke one night to feel my charpoy gently tilting and moving about. First thought - "some idiots have had a gin too many and are playing silly b#####s". Then I realised that I was alone in the basha. Next thought was of some large animal under the charpoy, arching his back to scratch on the underside..........Tiger!!!.....Then I realised that the whole basha was moving.......Earthquake!!!I shot out into the moonlight to join the others.

By then the tremor had stopped. It had lasted only a few moments and done no damage. A basha hut, its bamboo frame lashed together with coconut fibre string, is flexible enough to survive much larger earth movements than the one we'd just had.

We hung about for a few minutes, and then went back to bed. It seems that these tremors are not unusual, but full blown earthquakes rare, at this end of the Himalayas.

As in the Arakan, Army close support was the greater part of our work, and we could get feed-back from them. When we went further afield, it was more difficult. Some strikes were on supposed Jap stores dumps in riverside villages. Leaving behind only a huge cloud of dust, you can't tell how successful a strike has been. If it was important to know (ie, do we need to do the job again?) a PR Hurricane would go out to photograph the result.

An air staff officer back at Group had a bright idea (make for the hills, chaps!) Why not kill two birds with one stone? Fit a camera in the bomb bay of the last Vengeance to go down, and let him take the photographs himself after he's bombed. They checked for free space in the bay: it could be done.

This proposal did not meet with any enthusiasm. To begin with, it violated the Golden Rule of Ground Attack, which is "DO NOT HANG ABOUT THE SCENE OF THE CRIME". By the time a defending gunner has put down his mug, stubbed out his fag and swung his weapon round onto you, you want to be hull-down on the horizon, going like a scalded cat. Many a good chap has been lost,
staying behind to admire his handiwork.

Nevertheless they decided to give it a whirl, and I drew the short straw. Our target was a small Burmese town with a jaw-cracking name (my personal best in the log book is: "Kyathwengyaungywa" - but that's not today).

All I remember about our target was the pagoda in the town centre: Its gold leaf sheathed spire blazed in the morning sun; our intelligence officer noted that every single crew made particular mention of it at de-briefing after we got back.

The strike was on the river edge of town. There were no railways so far north in our part of Burma, and the roads (little more than bullock cart tracks) were too dangerous for the Jap to use by day in the dry season. The long dust trail raised by even a single truck could bring down attack by a patrolling Hurricane or Beaufighter.

But all the rivers ran north and south; they were the natural highways of the country. The Jap used them as suppy routes, moving barges by night, and lying up camouflaged under overhanging trees at staging posts during the day. This place was one such post (according to intelligence, which we hoped was correct, otherwise, a lot of innocent Burmans were going to die for nothing).

We were to target the riverside buildings.The strike went according to plan, as far as I could see. I was disappointed to see no black smoke - a sure indicator of rubber or a petroleum product, war stocks on the way to the Jap armies around Imphal, and no explosions after the bombing. The first five aircraft cleared away to the West and left me to it.

I went off down river for five minutes or so, then turned back north at 1500 ft as instructed, bomb doors open for a straight and level run over the target. I was acutely conscious of having no armour plate underneath me.Over the spot, Stew switched the camera on for its ten-second run.

Nothing hit us, and I carried on up north, intending to clear the area before turning west over the ridges. These ran north/south at about 6,000 ft in parallel with the rivers.We must have been flyihg a minute or two, when Stew chipped in: "There's a radial engined fighter about two miles behind us".

More soon.

Sleep tight,

Danny42C


Keep smiling.

kookabat
21st Jun 2012, 02:17
"There's a radial engined fighter about two miles behind us".


More soon.

No wonder we keep coming back, with cliffhangers like these!!! :D

glojo
21st Jun 2012, 06:17
Good morning Danny,
I do hope your amazing stories bring back happy memories of those times when you volunteered to put yourself in harms way. I am in awe of your writing skills especially when we consider you are possibly over fifty years of age :D:D

Not only were you a talented pilot, you are quite clearly a VERY talented writer..

THANK YOU for taking the time and the effort to keep us all enthralled with your exploits.

Best wishes,
John
A not so secret admirer

Chugalug2
21st Jun 2012, 14:03
Ah the Fog of War! Where am I, where have I been, where am I going? Known and unknown knowns (or unknowns?). The Log Book as an aide memoir is a boon, but as sole memoir it certainly has its limitations. I'm sure we'd all find similar anomalies if we tried to emulate your example Danny and give a detailed account of our flying career in a sequential day by day order. I can only admire the tight rein you have held thus far on your movements, and movements they suddenly are! 500 miles away from the coast and deep inland to the west of Kohima. A very different scene which is suddenly full of menace. I can't wait to read the next instalment. What a cliff hanger!
Edited to add that for those with Google Earth I think that "K" airfield (now named Silchar Airport) is at 24°54'42.98"N 92°58'38.37"E and ironically NE of Kumbhirgram, which in turn as Danny says is NE of Silchar! Good business for the local cab drivers!
More here:
Silchar Airport - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Silchar_Airport)

Fareastdriver
21st Jun 2012, 14:53
[QUOTE} intending to stay there for good (it's there yet).[/QUOTE]

Still there Danny.
Google Maps (http://maps.google.co.uk/maps?ll=24.911695,92.980665&z=14&t=h&hl=en-GB)

Union Jack
21st Jun 2012, 15:33
No wonder we keep coming back, with cliffhangers like these!!!

With due recognition to the illustrious and sadly departed founder of this wonderful thread, the expression sounds entirely appropriate.

Hats off and grateful thanks indeed, Danny, pilot and wordsmith extraordinaire!

Noting Cliff's comment regarding logbooks, it's interesting to recall that Cliff's own opening post referred to working initially from logbooks, but what amazing aide memoires they have proved to be.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch .....

Jack

Fareastdriver
21st Jun 2012, 17:41
Looking at the Google picture of the airfield on the southern side there is the present mititary, predominately helicopters, base. Further up on there are the unmistakable signs of a perimeter track. There is also what looks like a quarry with the inevitable dozens of Spitfires and VVs buried within.

Danny42C
21st Jun 2012, 20:25
#2677, Kookabat; (I'll do my best to keep a good customer happy!)

#2678, glojo; (Admire away! - I can take any amount! As for writing talent, it shows what can be done with the average bone-idle schoolboy with a timely dose of Corporal Punishment. Churchill said: "I would not have boys beaten at school - except for not learning English. But I would beat them very hard for that!" The schoolmasters of those days took this to heart!).

#2679, Chugalug; (I'll leave the "sequential" style soon for a bit to expand on tactics and "What the Well Dressed Airman wore on ops", and "Calcutta" - no, not that one! And thanks for the link).

#2680 and #2682, Fareastdriver; (thanks for helpful pointers to Google Maps. Don't remember any quarries, though. Funny, the way the "buried" Spits have dropped off the Radar).

#2681, Union Jack (I wouldn't dream of stepping into Cliff's (RIP) shoes)

Thanks all round for your very kind comments on my efforts; the fact that they appear to be so appreciated is all the reward I need.

Next Gripping Instalment on the stocks!

Don't hold your breath,

Danny.

Danny42C
22nd Jun 2012, 18:35
"There's a radial engine fighter about two miles behind us".....
 
I didn't like the sound of that. There were two such aircraft in the area which would fit the description: the Japanese "Oscar" and our "Mohawk". They were very similar in size and general appearance (but not in performance; an "Oscar" would have a "Mohawk" for breakfast, any day).

But there was a useful difference. The (US P-36) Mohawk's wheels retracted back-and-twist, so it had "knobs" on the leading edges of the wings. The Oscar didn't.

"Can you see the knuckles, Stew?"...."Can't be sure, wish I'd a pair of binoculars". I wished myself far away. It was most unlikely that a 5 Sqdn. Mohawk would be swanning around so deep into Burma (and where was his wingman? - he wouldn't be alone, fighters always operate in pairs).

The odds were on an Oscar. We're well below him, so he probably can't see me as long as I stick to the jungle covered hillside, and keep away from the bare paddy fields on the valley floor, where my camouflage would be no use. (Over jungle it was excellent, as I knew from the DIY training sessions in which I'd played the "fighter").

If it is an Oscar, and he spots us, we're cold meat. Infinitely more agile, 100 mph faster and more heavily armed, he'll cut us to ribbons - (IIRC, starting with 2 x 0.30 guns, they'd moved up to 2 x 0.50, and some had 2 x 20mm cannon). Much as I respected Stew, he'd done little or no live firing since his days in a Blenheim turret eighteen months before. We'd go down with all guns firing, but the only thing Stew was likely to hit was our own tail.

The unwelcome stranger stayed with us, still a couple of miles astern and some 1500 ft above. The minutes passed very slowly, it was his move now. I fancied I could read his mind. He's seen the dust of the attack on the town, thought he'd glimpsed an aircraft heading away North up one of the valleys, but isn't sure which one. He'll keep going to see if something pops up.

What I mustn't do is to climb over a ridge, for then he's spot me on the skyline straight away. But as he was making no attempt to close the range, I became more confident that he wasn't following me - he was simply following his hunch. (It's just possible that his guns were empty, but that's hardly likely in a war zone). As I'm in his twelve o'clock position, and below him, what he was looking for was (literally) "under his nose", but he couldn't see it.

So I'm stuck, flying North up this valley. It would be fatal to try to turn round - he'd have me at once. It was stalemate. This must have gone on for five or ten minutes.. It felt like eternity, and I had to review my options. I'd flown off the northern edge of my map and now there was nothing in front of me but China two or three hundred miles ahead.

My remaining fuel might have got me there, but luckily it wasn't necessary to try. For at last he must have decided his eyes had been playing him tricks, and he cleared away to the east. We were very glad to see him go. I waited a few minutes more to let him get well away, hopped over the ridge and set off back.

I must have run a good 40 miles north of target with him sitting on my tail, so I had to guess a rough heading for base. Keeping climb power on the engine, I steamed along over the endless mountain ridges, feeling very lonely and insignificant in a very wide world.

Half an hour later, I spotted five dots on the horizon, dead ahead. It was the rest of the formation, dawdling along to let me catch up, and wondering where I'd got to. And I'd run straight up behind them! Stew was amazed (so was I) and bored the Sgts. Mess rigid when we got back, bragging about the navigational genius he'd got for a pilot (I didn't disillusion him!)

The photographs were duly developed and didn't show much. I think there was still too much dust over the target to get a clear picture. But you couldn't expect an aircraft which had just bombed to wait around in the vicinity for a quarter of an hour to get a better one. (221) Group had second thoughts, and dropped the whole idea - to general satiisfaction. Let the specialists take the snaps. And the stranger? Nobody knew or cared.

As to whether the strike had achieved much - or anything - we never heard. We had agents in Burma, but information seemed to take a long time to come out and filter down to a Squadron.

With Army Close Support it was different, and on one of my last strikes from K, a pat on the back came my way. The target was "2 Stockade" - wherever that was - (it's in my log, but I don't know if it was a "Goodie" or a "Baddy"), The Army problem was that the Jap was able to supply and reinforce the particular place that was giving us trouble over a single road. If the road were destroyed, it would make life much harder for him. A sortie went out; the Army reported that all the bombs were close, but the last man down had put three of his four into the road, with the desired result. I'd been in my (usual) 6 position, so it had to be me. (Pure luck, of course).

Just as we had nicely settled ourselves in K for the dry season of '43/'44, all the RAF VV Sqdns. were raided to supply experienced air and ground crews to build up the two new IAF VV units (7 and 8 Sqdns) which had recently been re-equipped with the type. I think 110's share was three or four crews; we were one of them. It wasn't very flattering - if you were a squadron commander, would you send your best people? (I've already mentioned that the gullible nav who'd got the Flight lost on its way to war the previous May was among us).

I believe it was a political thing. Independence was in the air, and I think we wanted to hand over a "going concern", with all three Services up and running, to our successors. At that time Partition was hardly considered as an option, we hoped and planned for a united India which would replace the Raj. Sadly it was not to be, and millions would die in the communal riots which accompanied that failure.

But before we left K, the place was bombed by the Japs - for the first and only time (AFAIK). And that will, I hope, make for an interesting Post indeed.

Time for bed, now.

Danny42C
 
All in the day's work.

will happen....Postscript: Attempted to Post this last night (after pasting across from Wordpad): laptop went ape - chaos ! - during struggle half the entire thread self-selected itself on to Post (1806 hrs 21 Jun), took me half hour to delete and restore status quo. Sorry, Danny. Will try again now - God knows what D.

Taphappy
23rd Jun 2012, 22:17
I came across this thread purely by accident when googling other RAF matters and notice that most of the training posts are made by pilots who usually started training around 1941/42.I volunteered for aircrew in January of 1943 and was subsequently called in front of the selection board about four months later.
This board consisted of a WW1 Group Captain whose main interest was in knowing whether " you played rugger old boy" but having been to an elementary school, I couldn't satisfy him on that score, and if memory serves me, a Squadron Leader who did not have much to say. Anyhow I was accepted as PNB and then had to undertake the infamous aircrew medical including the mercury blowing and holding your breath for what seemed an interminable time.
Having survived these hazards I was then sworn in, given the RAFVR lapel badge and placed on deferred service. Thus began the tortuous route to gaining a flying brevet.

Union Jack
24th Jun 2012, 10:08
Thus began the tortuous route to gaining a flying brevet.

..... and, we hope, the not so tortuous route to telling us all about it since you are precisely the kind of contributor Danny has lately been calling for.:ok:

A warm welcome awaits you .....

Jack

kookabat
24th Jun 2012, 10:29
Hello Taphappy (may we have a name to address you by?),

I've said it before on this thread, it's the individual stories like your own that are so important. They all go together to giving those of us who were not there some idea of 'what it was like' to gain an RAF brevet in WWII, and to ensure that future generations have a (superb, interactive and beautifully written) record of the sorts of things you got up to. Sincerely hoping you will add your memories to what has become one of, if not the best thread on PPRuNe.
Best wishes,

Adam
Melbourne

Petet
24th Jun 2012, 13:29
Welcome aboard.

I am in the process of doing a detailed study about the training side of things at ACRC / ITW / Trade Schools etc so I would love to hear your stories about where you were, the training you undertook, day to day life, uniform, drills etc etc.

I hope you feel able to contribute

Danny42C
24th Jun 2012, 17:04
Taphappy,

You're as welcome as the flowers in Spring! Come on into our virtual crewroom, coffee's on the brew - help yourself (3d in the jar, please!).

Seriously you're what we've been waiting for since Reg and Cliff died recently (requiescant in pace). "Now You shall stand / At my right hand / And keep the Bridge with Me". (We still need another chap for the other side, but two
will do very well for the time being).

I suggest we Post alternately from now on, each time waiting a day or so for the fall-out before the other chips in. Suggest? You're two years junior to me ! It's an order ! Your turn first, now!

For the benefit of our younger members, perhaps I should explain that ale once came in wooden barrels (not metal casks); the cellarman "tapped and spiled" the barrel, ie stood it on end, removed the "bung" and put in the "tap" (the "spile" was a small tapered wedge driven into a hole drilled in the barrel so that when the barrel was "put up" on its side, the tap would be "at six o'clock" to draw the beer, the "spile" at "twelve", midway on top. It was loosened to admit air, removed to funnel in ale slops (what the eye doesn't see.........) or to dip to see what was left. Barrel empty; hammer in spile, saw off flush with barrel; take out tap, put back bung; back on dray lorry. (sorry, Mr Moderator)

Now we can interpret "Taphappy" (I'm sure it's not true).

I'm bursting with questions, but will just ask: did you get away with your lapel badge? How long did you stay on deferred service?

In keen anticipation,

Danny42C

Molemot
27th Jun 2012, 12:00
Just to bump this back to the front page; I've been missing my daily fix of fascinating reminiscence. I understand Danny is waiting on Taphappy... but please don't let this thread drift down the black hole of the forgotten. These sort of memoirs represent the only access to "how it was"... and your audience are all on tenterhooks!!

Let me endorse Danny's invitation to anyone with wartime experiences to get to the keyboard and keep up the momentum on this thread....possibly the greatest ever on Pprune.

ricardian
27th Jun 2012, 12:19
I'm looking forwards to reading future instalments from Taphappy & Danny

Danny42C
27th Jun 2012, 12:23
(Sorry to muscle in, Taphappy, but the customers are getting restive)

In November '43, shortly before Stew and I were posted away from K to 8 Sqdn, the Jap decided that our people there had become too much of a thorn in his side, and he decided to do something about it. Shooting sitting birds may be a bit unsporting, but it is by far the most effective way to deal with our sort of bird. He put in a high-level air raid on the place; this was unusual for him; his normal tactic was to use the Oscar in low level hit-and-run raids. These were mainly ineffective, as our aircraft were usually well dispersed among the trees, or (exceptionally, as in "A" Flight's case now), in the luxury of three sided protective "pens".

It was a glorious day. North India in the cool, dry season must have one of the best climates in the world. We had six aircraft bombed-up ready for an army-support strike later that morning. We had had the briefing, delivered by an Army liaison officer. This would amount to little more than telliing us the name and position of the the place we were going to thump. If the target was difficult to identify, it would be marked by a mortar smoke bomb when we arrived on the scene. Other than that, the sortie would be so much like all the ones we had flown before that we could almost fly it in our sleep.

We had enjoyed our preflight glass of "char", and were making final preparations, when a signal came down from 168 (?) Wing: "Japanese bombers in the area. Scramble all aircraft not bombed-up". We could sense their dilemma. There was no certainty that an attack was coming our way. If we put the bombed-up six into the air, and kept them hanging about until the danger had passed, they would have to be refuelled and turned round after landing; this would then make them late for the (timed) attack by the Army, which might have to be abandoned. On the other hand, if the attack were on us, and we were all on the ground, we could lose the lot.

There then followed a mad scramble to get all the other flyable aircraft into the air. S/Ldr Traill, (45 Sqdn) started one of his, knowing that it had no wheelbrakes, but hoping to steer with rudder and prop blast down to the runway. You move a Tiger Moth about like that, and might manage it in a Spitfire. But not in our lump! He got out of his pen, across the taxiway and straight into a tree. Fast growing tropical vegetation is relatively soft; no damage was done - except to the tree - and to his self-esteem!. (en passant: he would be killed with his crewman in a flying accident the following year). The scrambled aircraft got off, took up a grandstand position a couple of miles away, and settled down to watch the fun. My aircraft and I waited on the ground with the rest of the box, one unflyable one and the one stuck up a tree.

All was quiet for a time, then we heard the drone of approaching engines. They came in from the East, nine "Bettys" (a twin engined thing about as big as a Wellington - or "Sallys"? - very similar) at around 10,000 ft. Their formation was immaculate, three vics of three. Our nice new white concrete tracks must have caught the eye of the lead bomb-aimer. There was nothing to distract him, we had no AA and the nearest Hurricane was 200 miles away in the Arakan.

Now was the time for all good men to make themselves scarce. Some slit trenches had been dug round the dispersals, but we aircrew decamped to a small ravine nearby, snuggled into the sides and waited. The bombs came down with a rush like a flock of starlings and burst like firecrackers at Chinese New Year. Some came into our ravine, but nobody got a scratch. The Japs wheeled away to the south, and we climbed back to survey the damage.

Two of our airmen had been killed instantly. It seemed that they had decided, at the very last moment, to "find a better 'ole", mistimed it, and were caught in the open when the bombs fell. I still remember the sharp ferrous smell of fresh blood mixed with the hanging smoke. One was a sad sight indeed. He must have flung himself down at the very last moment before a bomb landed on the concrete right behind him. The shrapnel sprayed round at ground level; one piece had opened up his back along the spine from bottom to top as cleanly as with a tin-opener. Blast had torn off shirt and flesh, the result looked for all the world like a side of meat you (used to) see hanging up in a butcher's.

I looked at this pitiful mess, stunned, for a few moments before someone came up with engine covers to shelter him and the other man lying nearby, not visibly injured but just as dead. I'm afraid I don't recall their names (but they'll be in the 110 Sqdn. ORB). Apart from these two, I don't think anyone else suffered any injury; as they had all been down in one or other of the slit trenches.

That's all for now,

Danny42C


Very well!

Icare9
27th Jun 2012, 21:56
Courtesy of Geoffs Search Engine searching the CWGC database, looks like there were three deaths...
001 BURROWS AJA 1198266 110 SQDN 11/11/1943 ROYAL AIR FORCE VOLUNTEER RESERVE
002 CROCKETT JJ 1139340 110 SQDN 11/11/1943 ROYAL AIR FORCE VOLUNTEER RESERVE
003 HALL JM 1013239 110 SQDN 11/11/1943 ROYAL AIR FORCE VOLUNTEER RESERVE

Poignant date.....

Danny42C
28th Jun 2012, 00:23
(May be of particular interest to inter alia: mmich, Chugalug, Kookabat, dogle and Three Wire. Greetings !)

Our faithful readership will recall (perhaps with some exasperation) the way in which this museum piece hogged almost all the page 132 of this thread, and now are well content that no more need be said about it. However, Chugalug (in #2641 p.133) incautiously said "we await Danny's verdict" - so that lets me in again! Danny has been giving it some thought, and now concludes as follows:

During the discussion with savimosh01 over the strange case of Reg Duncan's mistakenly reported death, I dug out my old copy of Peter Smith's "Vengeance" to find Red McInnis's account of it. But before putting it away, I recalled that, at the very end, the book has a drawing of a VV cockpit. Years ago, when I first looked at this, it was so different from any VV cockpit I knew, that I immediately thought "must be a Mk. IV", and lost interest in it.

Now I recognise it at once - it is an exact drawing of the Camden cockpit -down to the second "ball" in the D.I. (why?), the weird off-centre jury-rigged gunsight ring and the clearly original-fit projector for a reflector sight, which shines up through a hole in the bottom of the panel.

Came the dawn! If it looks like a duck, waddles like a duck, and quacks like a duck, it probably is a duck. Why needed I to invent a tortuous explanation (my #2638 p.132) to account for a Mk. IV canopy c/w .50 gun on a Mk. 1 ? The thing is a Mk. IV.

My reading of the story is this: they had the history and paperwork for Mk. I EZ999. That poor old thing (after years of being knocked about as an instructional specimen at technical schools and the like) was past repair. But they found this decent Mk. IV. Somewhere along the line, its D.I. had got nicked - the one they found to fit the space had a ball in, which is why there are two of them now. (Chugalug, remember the Daniels "Stearman panel"?) Our aircraft was (and is) an early Mk. IV with a four-gun wing; all VVs look alike, spray it up, paint on EZ999 - et voilà ! - a Mk. 1.

I do not for one moment censure the Museum Directors. I congratulate them. I am only too glad that one (of whatever ilk) still exists, I can look at it, and it takes me back in a way no photo can. This lives , their detailed photos are wondeful. Who cares if it's not a Mk. 1? Nobody now.

Kookabat, if you're ever up that way again, ask if the engine number matches the paperwork. If it does, I'd be very surprised. Don't try to run it, tell 'em - every so often, just take plugs out, spray teaspoonful of penetrating oil in each pot, and "walk" prop. It's built to last for ever !

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C

Danny42C
28th Jun 2012, 00:36
Icare9,

Thank you, Kevin, for the sad information that there was a third man killed. I ought to have remembered that. But so many things were going on at that time - we left Khumbirgram a day or two later.

Perhaps a stray bomb did carry over to "B" Flight half a mile away on the other side? - we wouldn't know straight away.

Goodnight,

Danny.

kookabat
28th Jun 2012, 12:21
Don't try to run it, tell 'em - every so often, just take plugs out, spray teaspoonful of penetrating oil in each pot, and "walk" prop.
Excellent advice Danny. I may have some contacts up my sleeve who can get in touch with those who run the trust that now looks after the (closed) Museum - I'll flick them an email and see what I can find out.

Adam

Chugalug2
28th Jun 2012, 14:44
Chugalug, remember the Daniels "Stearman panel"?
I do indeed Danny, I also remember the withering disdain with which it was received! Thus my deferring the Camden VV identity to you, without making any excited noises about it being the very last Mk1, even when it was rolled out from the factory with that "new aircraft aroma"! It seems it wasn't because it was a Mk4, though it no doubt had the same aroma!
The description of the attack on K is vivid and enthralling. One can sense the pandemonium, grieve of course for the victims, and as ever marvel at the ruggedness of the VV. What other contest between plane and tree would result in the plane being unscathed and the tree a write off? Were no other aircraft damaged by the bombing? If so that was remarkably lucky, not withstanding Wing's quick thinking to scramble all but the bombed up aircraft and the calculated risk that entailed.
Was not the bleached white concrete of K a bit of an enticement to attack? It seems that all the varied and imaginative camouflage of the early war years in the UK was forgotten, or was "paint camouflage runways/dispersals for the use of" in short supply in India? Probably so, as I remember the hurried application of shadow camouflage to the Twin Pins at Kuching at the outset of "Confrontation". Only emulsion paint could be had but the result would not have shamed an Airfix model until it rained, which of course it was apt to do with monotonous regularity!
Taphappy, could I join other posters here in welcoming you to the thread and begging you please to start your story? As Danny will no doubt attest, the big thing is to simply start at the beginning and the rest just follows. I can promise you the most rapt readership enjoyed by any writer. Any problems with the posting will be easily resolved with advice from both readers or writers, so just pinch your nose, close your eyes, and take the plunge. The water's lovely!
Finally on a more sombre note, I'm sure that today the thoughts of all here were for our lost comrades who shared with us their memories of training for their wings in order to fly with Bomber Command. The Memorial, for which they and their fellow veterans had to wait so patiently, was today at last unveiled by HM the Queen and dedicated to the 55573 BC aircrew lost in WWII.
We Shall Remember Them!

Taphappy
28th Jun 2012, 16:09
Many thanks to all who have welcomed me to the forum. Sorry for not following up my original post but have been having some technical problems which I hope to iron out soon.

Taphappy
28th Jun 2012, 19:42
After being placed on deferred service the months seemed to pass very slowly but eventually the call up papers arrived in June 44 and I was instucted to report to ACRC at Scarborough.
I can remember arriving by train at Scarborough along with a gaggle of would be airmen and being met by a Sergeant who formed us into some kind of order and marched us off to the Prince of Wales which stood high up on South Bay and which was to be home for the next six weeks.
On arrival we were allocated rooms and I was given one on the 4th floor with lovely views over the North Sea. In it's previous existance as a hotel this would have been a single room but was now home to four diverse characters. There was a lift in the hotel which was out of bounds to cadets and I can tell you that charging up and down four flights 5 or 6 times a day was no fun, although it did do wonders for your figure.
The next day I was allocated to 49 flight which consisted of 2 officers, a F/Sgt PTI a Sgt and Corporal drill instructors plus 48 cadets.
The following few days were taken up medical exams, FFI tests and the usual inoculations,not forgetting dental exams, the RAF seemed to lay great store on healthy teeth and in fact paid for dental treatment whilst I was on deferred service.
I can attest that the RAF dentist at Scarborough was not the gentlest of persons and at the risk of being libellous could be termed as a butcher. He put me off dentists for many a year. Next was the clothing parade where we were all issued with the required clobber. It was like an assembly line which we recruits proceeded along one side of a counter whilst the guys on the other side eyed you and chucked various items of clothing at you. It was only by the grace of God if anything fiited..
We then got down to the business of looking like airmen by virtue of endless drilling around the streets of Scarborough and countless sessions of PT.In between these sessions we attended lectures on various subjects such as Air Force law, Hygiene,Theory of Flight etc.
After about 4 we weeks we were all marched down to the Spa Ballroom to undergo aptitude tests which would largely determine which aircrew trade you would be trained for.
Previous posts on this subject indicated that this stage was not reached until after ITW so there must have been some change later on
I don't remember much about these tests but mus have done OK as I was categorised as Nav/Wop.
Those selected for Pilot training were also given a fallback trade and whilst the rest of us were posted to ITW the would be pilots went to grading school before ITW and if they did'nt make the grade then carried on with the fallback trade.
Harry, I did manage to hold on to the lapel badge but over the course of time it has disappeared.
Enough for today

Petet
28th Jun 2012, 22:08
Thank you for your posting.

You are right, training changed quite significantly throughout the war, especially after 1942 when the new aircrew categories were introduced.

It sounds like you were at 6 ACRC at Scarborough and presumably you stayed there for your ITW.

I am in the process of researching the daily bed inspections and the weekly kit inspections, so would love to hear any tales that you might have on those.

Anyway, it is great to have you on board; look forward to hearing more of your story

Regards

PeteT

Danny42C
29th Jun 2012, 02:57
Adam,

Thanks for your kind offer. I'll be very interested in anything you can find out, but don't devote too much time or effort to it - I think we have the story pretty well sorted out now. I'm quite happy with the VV we've got - whatever it is!

Danny.

****

Chugalug,

I wouldn't guarantee a VV trying to head-butt a stout English oak, but IIRC, this was a sort of banana-tree and very soft. We were the only Flight bombed-up at the time; all the others scrambed off all right bar two or three u/s (on 110 and 45) and they may have lost a tyre or two (the anti-personnel bombs could do no more than scar the concrete, the bits "fanned out" close to the ground, which I suppose was the intention).

Not only the tracks, but the whole runway was white concrete. It stuck out from the surrounding green hills like a sore thumb. You could see it (from height) twenty miles away! Who needs a navigator? Nobody really bothered with airfield camouflage; most of our strips were just scraped out of the paddy-fields and the bashas looked natural against the local background. Khumbirgram was a one-off.

As for the Bomber Command Memorial Service; I have taped it and am looking forward to seeing it. HEAR THIS, ALL OF YOU, THESE PEOPLE (LIKE REG, CLIFF - AND MANY OTHER POSTERS) WERE HEROES ! I, for one, will never forget them,

Danny,

*****

Taphappy,

Congratulations on your "first solo"; (virtual) beer all round tonight! I am very interested in what you say about the introduction of aptitude tests later on in the war; in the early years it seemed as if the only three choices which the (1940) initial selection boards had to make were: "pilot - navigator - send the next chap in, please! " I certainly never had any kind of aptitude test. There was a general belief that a "scrubbed" pilot would automatically be retrained as a potential Navigator. Until after ITW we were "u/t Pilot/Air Observer" (that way, the ITW wouldn't go to waste if we were "chopped" as pilots).

The pilot Grading Schools were obviously a good idea; there is a minority of good chaps who will never make pilots (in a military war time frame); it is no kindness to send them to an EFTS and have to find it out there (as was our experience in the "Arnold" Primary Schools). There must have been an enormous, expensive wastage in travel and administation man-hours, even through nearly all were retrained.

The endless, driils, PT, parades, classrooms are a memory we all share - it was, and will be ever thus.

What's well begun is half done. "Good show", Taphappy, - keep it up!

With thanks all round to all three,

Goodnight,

Danny (not Harry, I'm afraid, Tap!)

Danny42C
29th Jun 2012, 22:07
(I thought you'd better have the second half of the air raid story before you forgot the first).

There were no bomb craters worthy of the name. The Jap had used a lot of small (50lb) anti-personnel bombs. They did the same in their night raids on Calcutta, and this puzzled us. They didn't use large bombs. I suppose one reason might be that ten 50lb bombs can easily be manhandled, but one 500lb can't, and they were short of lifting gear, but had plenty of labour.

(On second thoughts now, maybe there was some sense in it. You only need big bombs to bring down proper buildings or destroy something solid. Against people and aircraft well spaced out in the open, with no protection from above ("soft targets"), ten small bombs give you a much wider "spread", and a better chance of hitting something or somebody, than one big one. And to be sure of a chap in a slit trench, you need almost to put the bomb in beside him, and then a 50 will do just as well as a 500).

Our aircraft looked all right at first glance, but several of the tyres had been shot out by low flying fragments (the strike was "off" !) Other than that, one had been terminally damaged by a piece of bomb casing which had cut an engine bearer (beyond our capacity to repair). On its way to do its worst, the fragment had punched through the artwork on an engine panel. Poor "Butch" (a Disney "Silly Symphony" cartoon dog with Stetson and cowboy "chaps") had got it straight through the eye.

Two other losses were significant. The Flight 30-cwt truck, our only transport, was blazing merrily, we couldn't save it. This was serious. Until we could get another "gharry", we should have to walk between our Messes and the Flights. This was no hardship in the cool mornings, walking down the path through the tea gardens, but a bit of a pain climbing up again at the end of a long, hot day.

The other loss was a valuable item of Government property. I've said that new concrete tracks were being laid. Before you pour concrete, you have to put in hardcore and ram it down. They had no steamrollers, but a Works and Bricks elephant made a very good substitute. Jumbo "marked time" ponderously, helping himself to any edible vegetation within trunk reach. His "mahout" (keeper) moved him a few feet from time to time as the job required.

All was calm and content. Jumbo much preferred this to hauling heavy logs in the forest, and his mahout had nothing to do except smoke his malodorous "bidi" (this was the local "roll-your-own"; the filling was a matter of conjecture: obviously vegetable in origin, but "processed" by some animal - camel seemed the most likely).

By the way, it might interest you to know that there's a standard elephant "language" of commands, just as with sheepdogs. If you learn it, so that you can "drive" one trained elephant, then you can "drive" any other. The mahout backed up his orders with an "ankh", a very unpleasant looking iron rod some two feet long, curved at the end, with a nasty spike at the tip (there is no point - no pun intended - in whacking an elephant with a stick). It sounds barbarous, but I suppose it was no worse than the rowels on a spur.........(just thought you'd like to know!)

Then the air raid warning came. The mahout ran for it, leaving Jumbo to his own devices. In all fairness, there wasn't much he could do (imagine digging a slit trench to hold an elephant, and then persuading him into it). The bombs came down and Jumbo vanished. We found no bloodstains and concluded that he had been stung by a piece of hot shrapnel. Whatever had hit him did not impede his locomotion. He was seen by "B" Flight (untouched by the raid on the far side of the runway), galloping along it with trunk, ears and tail outstretched, and roaring with indignation. He went trumpeting off the end into the hills and was never seen again. A tracker party found no body and assumed that he had decided to give civilisation a miss. And who could blame him?

But that wan't the end of it. This was no common or garden elephant. He was Government property, registered and on inventory. His loss must be investigated; there was an endless Court of Enquiry in which we were involved as witnesses. Indian bureaucracy is a wondrous thing. It rather seemed that they regarded the loss of their precious elephant as our fault, and thought that the RAF should pay for it. What became of it in the end, I do not know, for shortly afterwards Stew and I, with three other crews, were posted to "beef-up" No. 8 Sqdn, IAF. They had recently been equipped with the Vengeance, and were somewhere back over on the other side of the Bay.

But before I leave K and the delicious, all pervading scent of tea which would stay long in my memory, here are two little vignettes to lighten what has been a sombre tale so far. "Topper" had got hold of a miniature dachshund (or at least, I think it was "Topper"), Over at "B" Flight (why would he be there - was he acting C.O.? ), among the trees, he had this dog with him. Jumbo had occasion to visit the Flight, to pull a tree down to make more room, or something like that.

The tiny dog took exception to this, and valiantly tried to defend his master's property by barking and nipping at this monster's toes. Jumbo looked indulgently down on the angry little animal, and gently shooed him away with his trunk, although he could have stamped him flat in a moment, or used his trunk as Tiger Woods uses a driver - and the dog wouldn't have touched down for 200 yards or so. We marvelled at his forebearance - truly the patience of an elephant!. Of course he was a great favoutite of all,

And for a day or two during our time there, the bread ration was "off"; we had to make do with ship's biscuits (same as the ones Dr. Pete Latcham had found for us on the first morning at Chittagong). Now it so happened that our tables in the (ex-planter's bungalow) Mess were graced with spotless linen cloths. The woven-in embroidery was of a Grecian rectangular design. Now you select a rectangle about 2 in square, and whack a biscuit down on it. Out came those weevils which hadn't been holding tight.

With luck you'd get three or four in the square. Now we could run a "sweep". You each put up a rupee ("chip"), and picked your weevil. First weevil to reach a boundary was the winner, his patron got the lot. You selected your weevil, it was no use picking the one nearest an edge , for he might well start to march away from it. You had to keep a sharp eye on him to maintain your ownership. Luckily they didn't move very fast; it was considered unsporting to "steer" your beast with a matchstick. (The biscuit was eaten after dunking to soften; the extra bit of protein was all to the good - the weevils ate nothing but biscuit - "man ist was man isst", - after all !)

We packed our kit, said our farewells and set out on the return trip - 500 miles back to where we'd started from a month ago. But not by air! 110 were cross enough at having been robbed of their crews, they weren't going to deliver them to the robbers as well! Our new Squadron made no attempt to come and collect us (in fact, they weren't making much of a attempt to do anything). So it was back on the train again. This would be quite an odyssey.

Next time I'll tell you about the kit we wore on ops.

That's all, folks, Goodnight,

Danny42C


It's no good, mate, you'll have to buy another.

Chugalug2
30th Jun 2012, 06:41
Taphappy, and so the saga begins! Congratulations on going solo, hopefully these pages will witness many more such flights, each one another leg of a cross country flight through time. We have learned long ago that each one is unique, both in style and in content, and so it has proved from your very first words. No one can accuse the war time Royal Air Force of doing things "because that is the way we have always done them". There was it seems continual modification, no doubt driven by the course of "Events, dear boy, events!".
Air Force Law lectures though were always an essential ingredient. I remember the selection of example infringements itemised in MAFL of its various sections, chosen I suspect with a wry sense of humour. "The accused, whom I now recognise, then threw down his rifle and said, 'I shall no longer serve you', or words to that effect".
It also brought out the concept of the illegal order. The very idea that an order should not be obeyed, rather that it was your duty not to do so but to report it to higher authority instead, seemed fanciful. I certainly never had occasion to exercise this bit of RAF Law while I "got some time in", but as with so many other experiences others have related otherwise in this very forum.

Danny, so the mighty VV was indeed brought to heel. Its Achilles heel seems to have been its pneumatic tyres. It comes almost as a shock that such a vulnerability to this Dreadnought of the Skies had not been foreseen. I wonder if the good folk at Vultee had ever considered fitting solid rubber tyres instead?
Yer avin a larf, aintcher? Well possibly, possibly.
Ah, service inventories and inquiries into the losses thereof! It must have been some challenge explaining the loss of a "Pachyderm, tamping down for the use of". What was the stores ref? What was its serial number? I would have thought that the mahout was the one on the spot, rather than the RAF. How long would it take him to pay back the cost of this essential bit of heavy plant via stoppages of pay? Perhaps he might have done better to adopt the example of his steed and follow it into oblivion!
The weevils in your biscuits were not only a valuable source of extra protein but of entertainment and possible profit as well it seems. How lucky for you! Indigenous wild life has always lent itself to such uses. The beetles resident in the atap roof of what constituted the Kuching Mess could be brought falling out of it by the synchronised stamping of many feet in time with Bert Kaempfert's African Safari. Something to do with the resonant harmonic frequency, or possibly that it was the only LP in the Mess!

Thank you both, for we now have a duet to inform us of those dangerous years. We are truly blessed!

Danny42C
30th Jun 2012, 22:36
Chugalug,

Yes, I am delighted to have a "second dickey" to help carry the load (and keep his Captain on the right lines!). I shall pass on to him the Wisdom of the Ancients that I have received from you (and others sadly no longer with us) - (ancient only in the sense of PPRuNe seniority, of course!)

I am not sure about solid rubber tyres on a VV. With some of my "arrivals", I think the struts might have come up through the wings ! As regards Jumbo, I don't think it would be much use chasing the mahout for the money - even if you could find him. What luck Government had in getting the cash out of the RAF, I don't know. Trained elephants were pricey items. One thing was sure - we had to get another one soon, as the job had to go on.

Ah, the MAFL - I remember it well. My remembrance of the classic case ran:....... casting down his rifle, he divested himself of his tunic, saying: "I'll serve no more - do with me what you will" (or words to that effect).......... They had style in those days, didn't they ?

And the hours we had to spend mugging up the Rules of Evidence when tasked with prosecuting/defending some naughty airman ! I never had a problem with an illegal order, but had to argue with Higher Authority over one which may well have been legal, but was extremely stupid (but that is a tale for another day).

I would think your atap roofs were much the same as ours - grass or palm leaf thatch. They kept the rain out all right, but you had to have a care when disturbing the fauna up there. A few beetles were all right (never knew they were music lovers), but when a thing with a body a foot long and as thick as a hosepipe and a million legs came down......! Let sleeping beetles lie !

Taphappy - baton over to you !

Goodnight, both,

Danny.

Nervous SLF
2nd Jul 2012, 08:23
Hey men have a look at this http://www.pprune.org/military-aircrew/489364-fw190-pilot.html and get him to post on here.

Danny42C
2nd Jul 2012, 17:20
NervousSLF,

Well spotted, sir! Let's not let this one get away! (but it's Msylla's choice if he wants to stay on his own thread, and we'll respect it). Thanks (I'm sure) from all our readers ! Will Post to him ASAP.

Danny42C

682al
2nd Jul 2012, 20:52
Hi Danny,

Just letting you know how much I'm enjoying this thread, (and looking forward to more from Taphappy, too).

I was down at The National Archives last week and just had time for a quick look at AP2024A, Volume I, which is the AP for the Vengeance I.

Like so many of the documents at Kew, it is very tightly bound and the rules do not allow you to loosen them in order to gain better access to the contents.

Nevertheless, I managed to take a few snaps and thought they may help revive old memories?

http://i924.photobucket.com/albums/ad89/AirMinistry/InstrumentPanelRightSide_small.jpg

http://i924.photobucket.com/albums/ad89/AirMinistry/InstrumentPanelLeftSide_small.jpg

http://i924.photobucket.com/albums/ad89/AirMinistry/PilotsCockpitLeftSide_small.jpg

http://i924.photobucket.com/albums/ad89/AirMinistry/GunnersCockpitLeftSide_small.jpg

http://i924.photobucket.com/albums/ad89/AirMinistry/RadioEquipment_small.jpg

Hope these work, it's been ages since I tried to post a photo on this Forum. Hope I've kept within the rules, too.

I have larger copies if you want them. Let me know and I'll find a way of getting them to you.

Keep up the good work!

Danny42C
2nd Jul 2012, 23:48
682al, Greetings

Many thanks for your research and the photos - they're among the best I've seen of this particular cockpit.

For it's our old pal again, the Camden aircraft, the aircraft cockpit sketched in Peter Scott's "Vengeance"; this is not a Mk. I, II, or III and never was !

I flew 400 hrs in these airframe numbers: AN, AP, EZ, FB and FD series over a period of over two years (FB and FD are Mk. IIIs). The cockpits in all the first three marks are practically identical; this is utterly different. It must be a Mk. IV. (We would have done better to call it a different name, as the US did - an A-35 to distinguish it from their A-31).

None of the earlier marks had a P8 compass, our ringsight was a fixed thing planted centrally, we had no reflector sight, there was certainly no cockpit heater - I could go on and on. And there is the curious business of the extra ball. First: I stand to be corrected, has anyone ever seen two balls on an instrument panel? Why? - if there's one bit of kit which cannot go u/s, it's the ball in the needle-and-ball instrument. Why on earth duplicate it?

The AP's text matches the panel, that part's correct enough. But it ain't a Vengeance Mk. I. How that mistake got into an official publication, I don't know and cannot guess. (And why would an AP be needed for a Mk. I, anyway, when the RAF (and RN) only used Mk. IVs for their target tugs?

I stand by my opinion in Post #2890. But thanks all the same for all the trouble you've taken over this.

"Curiouser and curiouser", said Alice,

Goodnight,

Danny42C.

Chugalug2
3rd Jul 2012, 06:56
Danny, you've changed me into an aviation anorak! The moment I saw those pictures, I thought Camden! The neat rows of switches, the abundantly festooned instrument panel, even the TA-12 SW Transmitter!
It is only a matter of time before I shall be able to empty a bar in a mere matter of seconds having begun with, "Of course, the Vultee Vengeance Mk1s and Mk4s in WWII RAF service were entirely different aircraft....." Is there some cure for this affliction? An exorcism perhaps? Can all this be wiped from my mind? Or is it too late, and I am doomed for ever more to foraging for arcane facts and figures about the VV? Help me, please!
BTW, your MAFL quotation was word perfect I'm sure, for it chimed so well with half forgotten memories. Style indeed, I am greatly indebted to you M'Lud!

Nervous, well done for finding your 190 man. Please try to get him to retrace his Luftwaffe recruitment and training days here, just as his RAF counterparts have done. It was always Cliff's wish that we could get such stories as his told here, but despite great effort his quest was in vain. Time is now of the essence, as Danny has emphasised many times. If these stories are not told now then they may never be.

Over to you, Tap, the floor is yours!

682al
3rd Jul 2012, 10:22
Hi Danny,

Dayum, what a shame that the photos don't match the aeroplanes you flew!

The AP is quite definitely titled Vengeance I, so I didn't give much thought to the previous discussion of the Camden example, I just assumed I'd hit "pay dirt".

It was a spur of the moment decision to look at the AP. The Archives were quiet, documents were arriving quite quickly after placing an order and I had half an hour to kill before heading off home after five days in there.

If I'd re-read the Camden discussion before setting off, my curiosity might have been aroused and I might have spent longer thumbing through the pages to search for clues as to why there is this discrepancy.

Oh well, maybe something else will turn up! :)

Danny42C
3rd Jul 2012, 19:10
Chugalug,

I'm afraid you're right; we've turned into a couple of right old bores!

One last question which must have an answer, was there ever a double-ball rig like this on one pilot's panel? (I don't mean the one for each of two pilots in the bigger things). Speak now, or forever hold your peace!

If no one can think of one, then we've got a firm ident on the Camden panel every time it shows its face from now on..

Danny.

*****

682al,

I'm truly sorry to have rained on your parade, but the thing is a Mk. IV, and the A.P.s Dept. has screwed up. But thank you for your efforts, all the same (I'm green with envy, reading the captions to the pics and seeing all the goodies they put in which I never had).

Danny.

*****

Taphappy
3rd Jul 2012, 19:21
Danny,
My apologies for getting your name wrong. I have given myself a slap on the wrist and put it down to a senior moment which occur all too often these days.Incidentally I liked your interpretation of Taphappy. All will be revealed.
Petet,
I don't recall the bed inspection happening on a daily basis but when it did happen it followed the procedure which happened in all the services,well perhaps not the Navy.
The mattress was in three pieces commonly known as biscuits and each morning they had to be stacked at the head of the bed with the blankets folded and wrapped round the biscuits to form a square. As U/T aircrew we were pampered and issued with sheets which were I think stuffed between the blankets and sheets.
The kit inspection involved laying out all your official pieces of kit in a specified order on the bed tough on you if there were any articles missing.
I don't recall any of these pieces of bull being carried out much if at all after ITW>
Chugalug2
Your comments on AF Law are interesting and sometimes such laws gave rise to humorous situations.
Later on in my RAF service, I was playing snooker one evening in the Sergeants Mess with my friend Dick when at about 2330 the doors were flung open and a very irate Warrant Officer who sounded as though he had been propping up the bar all night entered and in no uncertain terms ordered us to stop playing forthwith,put out the lights and close the door. Dick being of a bit of a bolshie told the WO "to put the bloody lights out himself".At this the WO charged Dick with disobeying an order from and swearing at a senior officer. He then cited me as a witness.
The next morning we were in front of the CO with the usual " caps off, left right, left right. Anyhow the WO on the charge sheet had accused Dick of telling him to put the f------ lights out himself. Following a discussion on which swear word had been used and such words being bandied to and fro across the desk I put my tuppence worth in and pointed out that the WO had not specified who was to put the lights out and I in fact had done so.Between the doubt as to which swear word had been used and the lack of clarity in the order the result was case dismissed and I could see the CO having a quiet chuckle to himself. Exit one very unhappy WO.
This guy was a long service man who had probably spent years in getting to the Sergeants Mess and took a dim view of these young aircrew types cluttering up the mess.
How much time was wasted on such trivialities???

However I digress so had better get back on my road to a flying brevet.
Having completed ACRC where we were paid the princely sum of 3 bob per day my three room mates and I were posted.one to Pilot Grading School,two to Air Gunner ITW and me along with many other prospective Navigators and Bomb Aimers to ITW at Bridgenorth in Shropshire
Our journey there was by train and took about 10 hours changing at various points on route. On arrival at Bridgenorth Rail Station we were met by the usual friendly!!! sergeant and then had to march uphill with full kit to the camp. As I recall it wa a fair hike and I get tired just thinking about it so will continue this anon.

682al
3rd Jul 2012, 19:59
One last question which must have an answer, was there ever a double-ball rig like this on one pilot's panel? (I don't mean the one for each of two pilots in the bigger things). Speak now, or forever hold your peace!

The P40 recently discovered in The Sahara appears to have the same two instruments featuring a ball.

http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2012/05/10/article-2142300-1304CF21000005DC-288_964x719.jpg

Hipper
3rd Jul 2012, 19:59
Danny, how did your turn indicator with the two balls work? Was it exactly the same but just had two balls instead of one floating around? (Edit: it's two seperate instruments apparently!)

I found this on my internet travels:

Introduction (http://www.3bktj.co.uk/index.htm)

the autobiograpghy of William Wood, RAF, wartime fighter pilot after training in Florida.

Danny42C
3rd Jul 2012, 20:47
Chugalug, 682al and Hipper,

That shoots me down ! What can't speak, can't lie (I believe they've found the poor pilot (RIP); he didn't get far and must have died miserably).

So they did have two ball indicators. Only question now is - Why? You can only watch one at a time. They must work (unless gravity has been suspended - they're still working). We'll never know. Better leave it alone.

So it means the Camden panel isn't a one-off, any other Mk.IV would presumably look the same; we haven't got a firm ident feature to tie other pics to Camden.

I know when I'm beaten! Let's call it a day!

Danny.

kookabat
4th Jul 2012, 00:30
Taphappy,
However I digress
Please keep digressing as often as you like - often these little sidelights are as interesting as the 'main' story!

Adam

Danny42C
4th Jul 2012, 00:35
Taphappy,

Considering how much time had gone by since I'd joined, it's remarkable how similar our experiences were - at least in the early days. Messed about from pillar to post - one Transit camp after another, nothing ever changes. You got three bob a day? - Jammy! - we had to get by on two. Never mind, when you get through ITW, you'll be in the money.

I liked the tale about the officious W.O. and the billiard room lights (It's not a digression, Tap (may I call you that); this is exactly the sort of detail which gives life to the story; the more of it, the better). But I agree with you, we had to see the point of view of some of these long serving W.O.s and SNCOs. They'd slogged slowly up the tradesman's ladder for perhaps fifteen years to reach the Sgts' Mess. Then along comes some 20 year old aircrew sprog with barely 12 months' service, and he's "in". It must have rankled with them.

Bridgenorth, did they select straight away for Nav or BA, or did you have a common ITW for the first part of the Course, and then split? But I'm jumping ahead of your story,

We're all standing by for the next part,

Danny.

Danny42C
4th Jul 2012, 18:54
You might be interested to know what the well-dressed aircrew wore for operations over Burma. Much of it was a matter of personal choice, but we had to consider that we might have a long trek home if we had to bale out over jungle (hopefully evading capture). Therefore a bush jacket (preferable as more pockets) or long sleeve shirt (both cellular) and khaki drill slacks were a must for mosquito protection after dark (underclothes? - don't be silly).

What we had on our feet was most important; we would have to hike over rough terrain, and through rivers and streams. While in the States, I'd bought a pair of basketball boots. I didn't play the game much, but the boots came in handy now. They were ideal for the job, canvas with thick sponge rubber soles and ankle pads. (The Japanese soldier wore a similar thing, I believe, with a separate compartment for his big toe). Mine were very light and comfortable, they'd keep out the leeches and it didn't matter if they got wet. And they gave me a much more delicate touch on the rudder pedals!

I'd been issued with a .38 Smith & Wesson and a box of 18 rounds at Madhaiganj, together with blue webbing belt, shoulder strap, ammo pouch, holster and lanyard to go with it. Hung on rhe other side for balance, I had a fierce looking kukri (the Gurkha knife). I'd picked this up in some bazaar or other with no intention of engaging in Errol Flynn heroics; the thing was for the purpose of cutting through undergrowth (who was Errol Flynn, Grandad?)

This ensemble was completed by a RAF side pack beside the kukri, and the other shoulder strap to go with it. The side pack carried a first-aid kit, a jungle survival outfit (water purification tablets, fish hooks and line etc, I suppose there must have been a compass), and a spare pair of socks.

It also held leaflets in Burmese, for villagers you might meet and whose help would be vital. In translation they read, so I was told, something like this:

"Dear Friend",

"The bearer of this letter is a British soldier come to save you from the hated Japanese who have caused so much sorrow in your land. If you treat him well, hide him from the Japanese, and help him to reach the British Army, you will be very well rewarded by Government".

This was all very well as far as it went, (and the Burmese were generally well disposed to us, particularly the Naga and Kachin tribes in the north), but I couldn't help feeling that if I floated down in or near a village that we'd just blown off the map, it wouldn't go down too well with "Dear Friend" - always supposing I could find one who could read.

You might think that all this was quite enough to carry, and you would be right. But the ever-solicitous RAF had one more treat in store for us. To back-up the ingratiating letter, the Intelligence Officer doled out a cotton money- belt apiece. This had sewn into it sixty Indian rupee coins, which were still legal tender in Burma (the Jap hadn't bothered to print any occupation currency; he didn't need to; he took what he wanted at bayonet point. This was a serious error on his part, it alienated a populace which might otherwise have decided to throw in its lot with him as a welcome change from us).

The money-belts were to reward helpful villagers, as you would have no cash of your own. Figuratively speaking, you must go naked into battle. Nothing personal can go with you. Cash, wallet and everything else in your pockets (except a watch) has to be put in an envelope, sealed and left with the I.O. for safe keeping until (if) you come back.

The money-belt idea was sound enough, but a disturbing rumour arose that a bad mistake had been made in the filling of the first batches of these belts. They had been filled with newly minted 1942 rupees. There shouldn't be any 1942 rupee coins in Burma - the Japanese had taken the country early in the year before any of these coins had been put into circulation. All the Jap had to do now was to offer ten rupees for every bright new rupee handed in, and he'd be hot on the trail of any escaper! We were assured that all such belts had been withdrawn, and the contents replaced with worn coins, but the doubts lingered.

So now you get the picture. Your bush-jacketed, bush-hatted and khaki- slacked young man first tied this belt round his middle. Then he buckled himself into his webbing, ending with crossed shoulder straps, holster and pistol on his left hip, lanyard (on shoulder under epaulette flap, NOT round his neck), On his right hip lay the the kukri and side pack. (The webbing belt was buckled over the money belt).

Thus encumbered, he climbed up into the cockpit, scorching after hours in the tropic sun, sat down on his hot parachute seat cushion (hotter still if he hadn't folded the back over it when he last climbed out), fastened the shoulder and leg straps tight (or his chance of posterity might, after bale-out, be negligible), then clipped the four ends of the seat harness in the quick-release box and tightened that over all. Thank Heavens, all our trips were over land, so we didn't have to wear "Mae Wests", or sit on the lumpy, abominably uncomfortable "K" dinghy pack!

By the time we'd donned flying helmet (tropical, cotton), and goggles over our fevered brows, we were damned glad to get the big fan in front working. That first long blast of air (hot as it was !) was pure bliss. Our canopies were always left open, In the climb, temperature drops at the rate of three Fahrenheit per thousand feet, so at 10,000 it was 30 deg cooler and we shivered. But by then we'd be running in to our targets, closing our canopies, and would be down in the hot-air oven again very soon.

I can feel for the poor squaddie in Helmand today, with body armour and all his kit in 40+ C. (My Grandfather was out there 130 years ago; I have somewhere his India General Service Medal with clasps for Mohmand and Kandahar. Nothing changes!)

What happened to all my armament? Well, the Smith & Wesson and its 18 rounds was handed back intact when I left India. I hadn't fired a single shot. I never heard of anyone using his pistol in anger, but on VE day some wild colonial boys were reputed to have fired feux-de-joie through their Mess basha roof - a practice greatly deprecated by their seniors (and, as Chugalug will I'm sure agree, was apt to bring down a shower of beetles - and worse!)

The kukri was a most imposing piece of hardware, with its silver-banded grip, and the kit of two small skinning knives fitted into a silver-mounted scabbard. It came home with me, and on my return I ran into "Bert" Andrews, my pre-war line manager (and an ex-Captain in the RFC, flying Sopwith Camels). He'd climbed two rungs on the Civil Service ladder while I'd been away, and was now an S.E.O. in another Department.

Before the war, he'd kept me spellbound with tales of his adventures, and when I went into the RAF gave me one of his old RFC tunic buttons for good luck. This has the same crown and eagle as an RAF button but with a "rope" design round the rim. I kept it for long enough, but somewhere it had got lost. Never mind, I'd had all the luck I could reasonably hope for.

Bert had a teenage son who was an avid collector of exotic swords and knives. I passed the kukri on to him. There wasn't much call for them in Southport then. (Nowadays we'd have the Armed Response Squad round within the hour!)

The money-belts? We had to turn them back in to the I.O. after each trip. We were very honest; he didn't need to count the "bumps" in each one.

Will get back to the main story next time,

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


It was working all right yesterday.

Chugalug2
4th Jul 2012, 22:26
Danny, I was only ever issued once with a .38 Smith & Wesson, other than temporarily for annual range practice, for a Jungle Survival Course in the Malayan Jungle in the very early Sixties. Confrontation was on and incursions were a worry, so although we were still required to go where no man had been before (well, since the previous course last week) we were now required to go armed.

We had much the same accoutrements as you, ie revolver, belt, holster, lanyard, and six rounds. The latter we were ordered to fill all six chambers with. Could we not at least leave the chamber under the hammer empty? Certainly not, you might lose the round! We were more worried about losing something far more personal, with macabre predictions of branches becoming entangled with the lanyard pulling the revolver out of the holster having "popped" the press-stud, and then somehow firing the weapon. The technicalities of the latter action were somewhat vague, but could be summarised as "if it can happen then it will happen". Happily it didn't, and we heroically hacked our way out of the jungle to come upon a tarmacadam road where a Magnolia Ice Cream man waited with his "Stop Me and Buy One" van, as he did at the same time every week when the jungle reliably disgorged yet more grateful customers!

As to navigation I seem to remember the tip was to head down-hill until happening upon flowing water, follow that down to a stream, follow that down to a river, and follow that down to habitation. Of course all that rather supposed you were trying to find fellow humans rather than avoid them, but happily that was more of a problem for the Indonesians.

The post war RAF still had a pressing need for money belts, issuing them to Co-Pilot Imprest Holders and stuffing them (the belts, not the Co-Pilots) with wads of notes in every currency likely to be encountered on the planned flight. As soon as the wheels were up on each leg the co-pilot was out of his seat and making his way down the passenger cabin with the traditional call of "Any more fares?". There always were, for indulgence pax were joining or leaving at every stage. After landing, the crew minus the Co would go off to their various accommodations, be they civil or military. The Co, like some Benidorm rep, accompanied the through pax to their Hotel accommodation (included in their "fare"), saw them settled down, paid for their stay from the imprest, and only then rejoined the crew. The next day was deja vu all over again, with the appropriate currency sub imprest being brought up to date. A desk and high stool would have completed the scene nicely.

I heard that Maria Theresa Dollars were the currency of choice of our "Dear Friends" in the Middle East, with offers of even more if the bearer were returned to his Majesty or his authorised representatives as intact as when he was found. Given that "even more" could be had by simply cutting his throat and liberating his money belt, I don't think that was too well thought out either!

Danny42C
5th Jul 2012, 01:10
Chugalug,

A thoughtful intervention, as ever!...... I think they were a bit overcautious on the five-round load. As I remember, no one would be crazy enough to have a cocked weapon in his holster, and with the hammer closed the S&W had a good safety catch. The greater danger we foresaw was of strangling yourself with your lanyard if that got caught up in some way and it was round your neck.

Your co-pilots seem to have been handy with figures - did the RAF send them on an accounting Course? And in the belts, they must have looked like Michelin men! (did they get any extra pay for the extra duty?)

As for our moneybelts, the Burmese were a humane race, and in any case it was generally known that the Govt. would pay out far more for an intact airman than the Rs60 in the belt, although it would be more trouble to collect. Quite a few people did successfully walk back, but I don't know what experiences they had with their belts.

All in all, our 'ops' outfit was a bit of a pain, but if you had to hop out, you'd be very glad of it. Alas, it is all too true that, as you say: "if a thing can happen, it will happen" (this is just a restatement of "Sod's Law").

Changing the subject, shall we ring down the curtain on the Mk. IV. Vengeance in general, and on the Camden one in particular, and just enjoy the pretty pictures ? I think we've said all that can usefully be said. Let's pack it in!

Time I went to bed!

Danny.

26er
5th Jul 2012, 08:35
On my only real operational trip to provide top cover for the parachute drop at Port Said in 1956 we Hunter pilots were issued with fifty gold sovereigns, a goolie chit and a pistol. The only place for the gun was the bottom leg pocket of the flying suit (worn over the anti-g suit in those days) Mae Wests were worn so no chance of keeping it on the body. Of course had one to eject the gun would have stayed in the aircraft, and probably the sovereigns too as they were quite a solid lump in another pocket. I was cynically amused on taxying to a stop, as soon as the ladder was fitted to the aircraft, the AOC (AVM Paddy Chrisham) was elbowed aside by the accountant officer who was the first up the ladder demanding his gold back !

Chugalug2
5th Jul 2012, 11:38
Danny, I think that the unease about the Smith & Wesson merely reflected the prevalent feeling that loaded personal weapons and aircrew then were a dangerous combination for themselves and others around them. When supply dropping we were issued with loaded Stirling sub machine guns. They were promptly stowed in the forward (crew) loo which was then locked. We preferred to run the gamut of the open (for supply dropping) fuselage doors to get to the rear (pax) loos rather than tempt providence. If carrying personal weapons had been a more familiar experience then no doubt we might have felt more confident. As it was I'm not sure if we had have been faced with the distinctly unpalatable prospect of a jungle forced landing then the first action would have been to jettison the Stirlings beforehand!
Re the Co's, the "course" consisted of a 5 min chat with the Accountant Officer, which basically meant that you and he together had counted it all out and would count it all back on return. Any discrepancy was of course your problem, not his.
Yes the fully loaded money belt could add to one's girth, but then it was sylph like in those days so the extra inches under the Bush Jacket were not so noticeable. Extra Pay for running the Imprest? You're joking of course. It was the Senior NCO's on the crew that saw it as an additional source of income, "footwear allowances, "laundering the aircraft" (for the VIP Mk4 Hastings) and no end of other supposedly legit expenses were always being suggested. The solution for the Co was of course to get a signature for each and every transaction, and not to fall for the blarney of his elders and betters.
The one thing worse though for returning with too little money was to return with too much. A colleague's aircraft had to be defuelled as it had been inadvertently overfuelled. The bowser man refused to take it back so it was drained off into oil drums and sold locally. The mistake he made was to declare the proceeds on his Imprest instead of keeping the crew in the manner befitting them for the rest of the route. In the end the accountant officer had to do some creative accounting to obscure this illicit trading. It seems that Public Funds can be lost and written off, what must never happen is to add to them!
Re the MkIV, you are as ever the boss. I wish it were that easy though. Questions re aerial arrays still remain unanswered. Known unknowns as Mr Rumsfeld would say....
Oh, a PS. Would the "two balls" US instrument arrays be because their Directional Gyro/Indicators included it to ensure that there was no slip being induced when the instrument was uncaged onto the Compass Heading? I can think of no other reason why a Directional Gyro should be so equipped but if there are other ideas then let's hear them and finally answer Danny's question.

angels
5th Jul 2012, 15:43
The chat about weapons reminded me of my dad's diaries -- he was ground crew, his experiences are on this thread way back in the page 60s.

He had a Sten which he used to take into the jungle to shoot off a few rounds. I don't think it was necessarily for fighting Japs -- although there were times he was close to the fighting -- but rather it was to see off Dacoits who were always trying to pinch stuff.

Danny42C
5th Jul 2012, 17:56
26er

I can see your problem - you might be debagged in an ejection - losing the lower half of the flying suit as well as the gun and the bullion!

Accountants were a race apart; a year ahead in my tale, I had to fly a 300 mile round journey to collect the cash to pay my troops. He would hand over only if I gave him an Acquittance Roll already signed by all my lads !

My neck was stuck a long way out, but he was in the clear whatever happened !

Danny42C

Pom Pax
5th Jul 2012, 18:08
A trained elephant was not cheap. For comparison when I had to purchase one in 1979 it cost 20% more than a new Mitsubishi pick up truck, about 2,600 gbp.

Danny42C
5th Jul 2012, 19:03
Chugalug,

Thought-provoking as usual ! We are both in the grip of the Seekers into the Unknown syndrome - we must break free from this dreadful affliction. Let's have some form of Delete Bin for all these matters for "that way madness lies" (King Lear ?) Forget that damned aerial ! (Yes, I know I started it, my fault entirely).

I never had anything to do with the Sterling, but understand it to have been a sort of posh Sten. And all I remember about the Sten is that you had to keep your fingers out of the way, or you'd have them sliced off.

As to obesity, you're quite right - we were all thin as rakes, weren't we, and fitter than we should ever be again. Even now my BMI is only 22, but in early post war snaps I appear as a "skeleton covered with skin"!

Danny.

Danny42C
5th Jul 2012, 19:35
Pom Pax,

Quote:...... "when I had to purchase one (trained elephant) in 1979".........

You can't leave us just like that ! (Mr. Moderator, please),

Danny42C

fredjhh
6th Jul 2012, 14:27
There was no call for Elephants in the UK in WW2, but when my room mate left his Oxford at 6,000 feet, flying from Lyneham in 1941, he found he was presented with a “Bill” from the Instructors.

To LAC George Cooke

One Ripcord Handle 2s. 6d
One Oxford Aircraft £ 30,000..0s..0d
One Dairy Cow £ 30..0s..0d
Total £ 30,030..2s..6d

Will LAC Cooke pay cash, or have it deducted from his Pay?


Signed............................................(S/Ldr. Accounts)

Sorry about the prices; pure guess work apart, from the Rip Cord handle.
Fredjhh

Danny42C
6th Jul 2012, 15:30
Fredjhh,

Welcome back - you had us all terribly worried ! Now don't go away again like that, will you?

Prices: Oxbox way over the top, the "Spitfire Fund" reckoned that you could get one for £5,000, but I believe the real price was about £12,000. A Vultee Vengeance cost us $68,000 ($4.08/£1 in those happy days), say £16,000 then.

Cow? Dunno, seems a bit pricey, you could get a new Royal Enfield 250 for £31. (any farmers in the house?)

Ripcord handle - about right (£5 today).

Think the Instructors were trying it on a bit !

We're very pleased to have you back, Fred - all of us, I'm sure.

Danny42C

Taphappy
7th Jul 2012, 21:58
Danny,
Your tales of derring do in India and Burma are fascinating, how you can remember all the details is beyond me and I am ashamed that we in blighty were mostly ignorant of what was taking place out there given that you were operating in such difficult circumstances. Just as well you have a sense of humour.
Having arrived at Bridgenorth we were joined by contingents from other ACRCs and from grading schools and became Course number --- comprising of u/t Pilots,Navigators and Bomb Aimers.
Bridgenorth in comparison to Scarborough was more akin to a real RAF station and was fairly large covering quite an area. There was als o an Air Gunners School of some sort there.
The accommodation was in wooden huts and the bunks were of the two story variety.
The camp itself was fairly dispersed and involved a good bit of marching between living accommodation,mess halls and lecture rooms
I certainly remember interminable lectures on such subjects as Theory of Flight,Navigation,Meteorology, Astro Navigation Aircraft Recognition, Morse Code etc,etc interspersed with the usual PT and sports.
All in all we were kept pretty busy.
One day we were told that we were going for dinghy drill so we we were all looking forward to a day at the seaside but the reality was a trip to a private estate on the road to Wolverhampton. There was an outdoor pool there and we all plunged into it. I was not a very good swimmer, truth to tell I could hardly swim at all and we were told that we had to be able to swim 100 yard or an aircrew future was in doubt. Necessity being the mother of invention I convinced the PTI that I could do it.
Some of the course fell by the wayside but I managed to get through and went on leave with an increase of pay to7/6 a day.
Previous posts indicated that you were promoted to LAC when you passed ITW but that did not happen in our case, so again there must have been changes to the system
Anyhow off we went on leave to await the next posting.

Petet
8th Jul 2012, 09:06
Taphappy

As you say, after June 1943, aircrew were no longer promoted to LAC at the end of ITW. A new system was introduced whereby AC2 was split into AC2 (Grade A), AC2 (Grade B) and AC2 (Grade C).

Those on the PNB Scheme (Pilots, Navigators and Bomb Aimers) were promoted from Grade A to Grade C on completion of ITW training, with 7/3d pay. All other trades would be promoted to Grade B, with 5/- pay.

[Source: C G Jefford, Observers and Navigators]

Looking forward to the next instalment.

Regards

Pete

Chugalug2
8th Jul 2012, 09:48
Taphappy, I am constantly amazed by the depth of recall of all those who tell their stories here, yourself included. The accounts are told as if it were but yesterday and we have constantly to remind ourselves that all this was happening some 70 years ago to very young men, indeed some could describe them as boys, though fated to become men very very quickly.
Where you were, what it was like, what you wore, what you did, how you were treated, all described in fascinating detail from a distant world so remote from the present.

As has been said so often, it is the detail that is so vital and so captivating. Thus money spent on promotion could be saved by issuing a "bonus" within existing rank, and further clawed back by modifying that bonus according to "trade". Come to think of it, not so remote a wheeze after all, perhaps!

Quite how a poor swimmer "persuades" a PTI that he is a proficient one I would have no idea. I suspect though that it was yourself that you persuaded, the same driving force that lies at the root of all these tales. Failure (to coin a modern phrase) was not an option. You all had a burning ambition to fly. That at least most of us can relate to!

Danny42C
8th Jul 2012, 20:49
Taphappy,

Don't mention it ! We were every bit as absorbed as you were in our own affairs out there; the European theatre was a distant rumble of something that was going on half a world away. News of Glorious Victories and (rather a lot of) Masterly Strategic Withdrawals filtered out to us, of course, and they were received with a certain amount of cynicism, but mostly we crossed off the days till the "troopship just leaving Bombay" of the song would have us on board.

We did a three-year tour, but it could vary a bit. Humour? "it's bein' so cheerful 'as keeps us goin'" - I suspect it was the same with you.

Trial by Water was never inflicted on us, although we had the whole Bristol Channel on the doorstep; you would have been better off in the sea: you float better in salt water. (How do you con a PFI that you can swim 100yd when you can't? - Chugalug's question - Waterwings?) Perhaps that's why "Tee Emm" placed such emphasis on dinghy drill - half the crews couldn't swim!

Two storey bunks - how did they manage Kit Inspections ? - on stilts?

7/6 a day, and you're not even an LAC yet? And you go on leave till the next posting ? Were there no Transit Camps ?..... Air Force's goin' to the dogs!........ Now in my time, Sir........

Seriously, Taphappy, keep up the good work. You're doing fine. (it's up to me, now),

Danny.

kookabat
9th Jul 2012, 03:23
An English rear gunner of my acquaintance told me once that the non-swimmers were "dragged/forced" to cover the mandatory distance in the swimming test by hanging off a bamboo pole. Apparently this was 'assistance', not 'cheating'!

Adam

Danny42C
9th Jul 2012, 17:52
Danny is on his way from 110 Sqn. in Khumbirgram to 8 Sqn. IAF (but where might that be?)

I had to abandon my DIY bed, but of course stripped off the webbing and put it in my bedroll, so that I could easily rebuild it at the other end. All our previous trips to and fro the "sharp end" had been self-flown, so this one was a bit of an eye-opener.

A bumpy truck ride took us to the railhead at Silchar (the end of the line into our corner of Assam). Then it was a train to some God-forsaken hole in the middle of the Sunderbans (the name "Narayanganj" seems familiar). There we embarked in a stern-wheel paddle steamer (quite a comfortable cabin for the night). This threaded its way through innumerable islands and waterways (I could see where the "dug-out canoe" yarn, told us at Worli, might have come from). Disembarked somewhere in the morning, back on a train to Calcutta - Howrah station again!

This time we did not bed down there for the night! A good dinner, bed and breakfast in the "Grand", and back on the train for Chaara (I have absolutely no idea where that was), except that it was somewhere in Orissa. On a standard strip-cum-basha camp (indistinguishable from fifty others in the district) was the brand new No. 8 Squadron of the Indian (for a brief period the Royal Indian) Air Force. Or at least the outline of a Squadron.

I think it was a political thing. Independence was in the air, and we wanted to hand over a "going concern", with all three Services up and running after the war. There had been a Royal Indian Navy for years, and an Indian Army from the days of the Mutiny. We had an Indian C.O. (Sqn.Ldr. N. Prasad). He struck me as a very reserved, scholarly, intellectual type, far better suited as a Staff officer than in the rough-and-tumble of Squadron life (he did, IIRC, reach air rank in the postwar IAF).

He was replaced some time in February '44 by Sqn.Ldr. Ira K. Sutherland, a tough New Zealander with a hard reputation as a martinet. The Indian "A" Flight Commander, Flt.Lt. "Pop" Chopra, was the exact opposite of S/Ldr Prasad. A mustachioed, cheerful extrovert, he was the life and soul of the party and very popular with everyone. The British "B" Flight Commander was Flt.Lt. "Bill" Boyd Berry (no hyphen), an excellent Flight leader and well liked. His crews were a mixture of British and all the Dominions, all of them from one or other of the four original ex-Blenheim squadrons.

I can only recall two of the Indian pilots, (F/Os Dhillon and Chakravarthy), and there were two or three Sikhs. They were all good chaps, but most had come straight from the OTU in Peshawar. How much bombing practice they had had there, I don't know, but it can have been nothing like the four months' intensive work we'd been able to put in on the Damodar range early in the year. The Indian ground crews were very inexperienced, and needed close supervision by RAF NCOs and airmen trawled, like us, from the squadrons.

This Indian nucleus had had their aircraft for some weeks before we arrived, but they had done little with them. Certainly they had done no bombing (AFAIK, there wasn't even a range). Much more to the point, they hadn't swung any compasses, or belted-up a single round of ammunition for their guns.

(Since first writing this, I find that you can Google: "Officers and Flight Crew List - 8 Squadron IAF (1939-47)" and go straight to a most useful Nominal Roll in BHARAT RAKSHAK. It seems that on 26 Nov '43, 20 RAF aircrew joined 8 Sqdn - many names familiar to me, my own included!, and a further 39 before hostilities ended. (But they converted from VVs to Spit XIVs later in '44, so many of the later pilots would have been on the Spits.......D.).

Even so, the plain fact was that ten VV crews were "transfused" into 8 Sqdn, which is almost a whole squadron, so what we had was pretty well a RAF Squadron with an Indian component. For this two of the RAF units were now three trained crews short, the others two short each.

Our location at the time we arrived is stated as "Phaphamau" . I thought I knew India, but had to go to Google for this. It's near Allahabad, half way to Delhi, at least 400 miles away! But 8 Sqn had spent some time there before we came on the scene; we did not meet them until later in Chaara; it seems that for some reason we were "put on the books" of the earlier place.

Now is as good a time as any to broach the subject which has been the Elephant in the Room so far: How did we and our new Indian squadron colleagues get on together ? Now I must think hard, and choose my words carefully, so as (on the one hand) not to give offence and (on the other) to tell as honest an account as my memory allows.

First: were our relations cordial? Answer: No.............Were they hostile? Answer: No........ I would say that we were in a state of mutual voluntary apartheit, eyeing each other warily, like two strange dogs meeting. There was no suggestion that IAF squadrons in general were in any way less efficient than their RAF counterparts. There were excellent IAF Hurricane squadrons; one close nearby, commanded by the redoubtable S/Ldr Arjan Singh, who would go on to become the CinC of the IAF after Independence. (There was, I am sorry to say, an unjustified and unpardonable slur heard from time to time: "The Indian Air Farce ", from people who did not know what they were talking about).

It should be remembered that the first Indian officer in the (British) Indian Army was commissioned in only relatively recent times, and in the R.I.N. even more recently. In both cases the introduction was small-scale and progressive. (A number of Indian officers served with distinction in the wartime RAF, and in the other Services in Europe, of course). But from the outset the Indian Air Force seems to have been conceived as an independent, wholly Indian manned body. It is quite understandable that there would be resentment when the RAF "took over" a Unit, an impression confirmed when S/Ldr Prasad was so soon replaced by S/Ldr Sutherland.

Even on an RAF squadron, there is a slight gulf between the two Flights; this was obviously intensified in a "mixed" squadron. There were the obvious cultural differences: separate Messes to accomdate the different diets, and although I think the anterooms of both Officers' and Sergeants' Messes were shared, there wasn't much cross-socialisation in them. In fact, I do not know of any other such squadron, and it is difficult to see what was the purpose of creating this one. On their part the Indian attitude to us, quite understandbly, can best be summed up in a phrase culled from another Thread (in an entirely different context): "They needed us - but they didn't really want us". The day of the Sahib was nearly over.

Do not get too hot under the collar about this if you hold strong views - I have good support from the other side - as will next appear. Wait a bit.

Goodnight all,

Danny42C


Goodness gracious me !

Danny42C
11th Jul 2012, 23:22
Taphappy,

Please excuse my jumping-in, but this is a close follow-on to my last Post, and things have gone quiet for a while....D.

Bharat-Rakshak records a very full and interesting: "Memories of No. 8 Squadron, IAF" by a S/Ldr T.J. Thomas IAF (Retd.). He was then a Cpl. (electrician) on the Squadron, and I cannot do better than quote from his memoir (submitted to B-S in 1981 by his son, W/Cdr. Joseph Thomas, IAF).

"The atmosphere in the Squadron was not all that good. There was intense anti-British feeling. The period was 1943-44. The turmoil in Indian politics kept this hatred alive. By this time a New Zealander (name I don't remember) took over command of the Squadron and we had as adjutant a Bengali Flying Officer. They were at loggerheads, we knew. Though no love was lost between the RAF and IAF elements, when it came to a question of keeping the aircraft flying, both elements put in their best"..........

(I would say that that is a very fair summary of things: I would not alter a word of it......D).

(Do not be confused by the name; "Thomas", though an English surname, almost certainly denotes a member of the Anglo-Indian community - just as there are many "deSousa's", "DaCosta's" and other Portugese names in Goa and the rest of India).

It was clear that at that time the IAF simply did not have the trained aircrew (and groundcrew) needed to form two separate Vengeance squadrons. They had been able to form one (7 Sqn), which AFAIK, had no RAF component; but even that needed time to "work up", and they did not get into action with the Vengeance until moving to Uderbund (near Khumbirgram) until 28.3.44., being taken off operations to Ranchi at the beginning of June '44, on the onset of the Monsoon.

So they were in action for roughly two months only (they converted to Hurricanes in October '44), whereas 8 Sqn managed six months in the Arakan, (assuming that they would stop at the same time as 7, as it was a Command decision to end all Vengeance operations at the end of the season). (I am indebted to Bharat-Rakshak for the 7 Sqn dates).

I had some difficulty in "fixing" the date when 8 Sqdn pulled out of the Arakan to move back about 2,000 miles to Samungli (near Quetta, in Baluchistan, right on the Afghan border), but again B-R came to the rescue in a roundabout way. S/Ldr Thomas (whom we have just met) relates that an RAF crew crashed and were killed on arrival at the new base (Samungli). The B-R "Officers and Flight Crew" list shows a RAF pilot and wop/ag killed on 6.8.44. It is the only "double" casualty during the summer, so there's my date. Why didn't I know about that? For reason I can't now remember, I was on the rail party to Quetta, and that trip took sixteen days (not ten, as S/Ldr. Thomas recalls), so our chaps were dead and buried long before I got there. The names ? B-R has them, but I can't put faces to them now.

But we've only just got to Chaara, as I write. You must remember that our Flight there was composed of people from all the four RAF Sqdns; they weren't all our "old pals". Apart from Stew, my gunner, there was George Davies and Bud Yeates (and their gunners); there was no one else of our "old brigade". By now, almost all the old RAF SNCO aircrew had been commissioned. There were no SNCO Pilots on "B" (RAF) Flight of 8 Sqn, although there were still some Navs and Wop/Ags.

But we had been posted in to "get this show on the road"; the first job would be to compass-swing all the aircraft, and belt-up the ammo for their guns, before we could even think of moving forward. I imagine compass swinging is a thing of the past with today's sophisticated Heading Instruments, so I shall give an account of how it was.

An aircrew had to do the job (as only a qualified pilot is allowed to move an aircraft under its own power). The crewman armed himself with a "landing compass" - a hand held bearing compass - and the aircraft was taxied to a Compass Swinging Platform on a far corner of the airfield well away from stray magnetic influences.

There a large basic compass rose was marked out on a wide circle of tarmac. The pilot positioned his aircraft in the centre of this; his crewman hopped out with the compass and took up position to walk round ten paces behind the tail. The pilot worked the aircraft round the cardinal points one by one (he didn't need to be too precise). His mate walked round behind, and took bearings on the centre line of the aircraft each time his pilot stopped.

There are adjustment magnets built in under the cockpit compass. On each point therefore, the crewman climbed up to the cockpit and told his pilot the heading he'd just read. The pilot compared this with his (much less acccurate) compass, Out with a screwdriver, and the rule was: take out all the error on the cockpit compass on North and East, then half the remaining error on South and West. Then go round all the points again on a check swing, record the remaining error on each point on a little adjustment card which is dated and kept with the cockpit compass. Sounds simple.

But turning an aircraft on a point needs a lot of power and one-wheel braking. The crewman, choking in gales of hot dust, had to go back on each point and climb up to report the reading. With the best will in the world, the pilot couldn't keep the aircraft on centre for long, and would have to taxi in a circle to position his aircraft again.

The job was not popular, and so having to do someone else's backlog of work caused a lot of growling. But this paled into insignificance compared with the ammo. problem. You might suppose that machine-gun ammunition would come in belts ready for use. So it does, I suppose, for ground use when it is all one kind. But we had three "flavours" - ball, incendiary and tracer - and the "mix" was up to the user.

Our chosen sequence was ball-incendiary-ball-incendiary-tracer. This recipe had to be made up by hand - our hands - from single rounds. To complicate matters still further, we had two different calibres, .300 (US) rounds for the front guns and .303 (British) for the rear.

The stated reason for this was that the US .300 guns had been found so unreliable in service that they had to be replaced by UK .303s for our rear defence, where there was at least a possibility that they might have to be used. There was little chance of needing the front ones. Air combat in a VV was out of the question. Strafing was a possibility, I suppose, but the business of a dive bomber was to bomb and get away. The Hurricane and the Beaufighter were far better for ground attack work, in any case.

As to the reliability, it may not have been all the gun's fault. I suspect a lot of the .300 ammo would be WW1 stock; there would be a lot of duds in it; we could not cock the guns from the cockpit; so a dud round meant a stopped gun. In war films we've all seen cotton ammo belts jerking their way through the guns. There's no room for yards of empty belt in a wing gun bay.

Spring steel clips are the answer; when the guns are fired these go out with the spent cases. Each clip anchors one round to the next. You have to push the rounds into the clips by hand. It's a tight fit, the spring steel is sharp edged. Bloody fingers and thumbs were the order of the day (and we loaded 400 rounds per gun). Next you had to run the assembled belts through an aligning machine to ensure accuracy. One of our Indian (supposed) armourers put a .300 (fractionally longer than a .303) round into a .303 belt and forced it through the machine. (He bent the cartridge - luckily it didn't go off in his face!).

Curiously, a few months ago I saw on TV a clip of some RFC pilots in WW1. They sat in a companionable ring (like a sewing bee!), loading their Lewis drums with ammo. Nothing changes !

There was no ammo belted up, so all ranks had to turn to and get on with the job ("the gentlemen must draw (haul) with the mariners", said Drake). We were only there from 18th November '43 (although Bharat Rakshak shows us as on charge from the 26th) until we moved up to Double Moorings on 12th December. We went into action on the 17th and then followed an intense three months of operations until 24th February '44.

Then a forced landing after an engine failure put me "hors de combat" for a couple of months, and when I came back, all Vengeance units had stopped operating for the monsoon and would never start again. The game was up for them. They really operated for only one full ('43/'44) dry season, and had done a bit in '42/'43, but that was all they ever did in ACSEA (the RAAF did some work with them in New Guinea, but IK).

But for the moment we were still at Chaara. I think I only flew one (admin) flight to Ranchi and return. Don't know what for. The rest of the time we seem to have spent on compass swinging and the miserable belting up chore. That task was made all the more exasperating as we knew the .300 guns were practically useless (and in fact were never used), but it doesn't make any sense to go into action with your guns empty. Eventually we were as ready for action as we would ever be.

Bit of a mouthful this time - hope Mr Moderator will not object.

Goodnight, all,

Danny42C


Worse things happen at sea!

kookabat
12th Jul 2012, 06:01
I imagine compass swinging is a thing of the past with today's sophisticated Heading Instruments,
Nope - they still need to be done. The twin turboprops belonging to the airline I used to work for would be taken off line every so often to have a compass swing carried out - if it wasn't done before expiry of the last one (once a year maybe? can't remember) the aircraft would be restricted to flight in Day VMC only. One particular port in the network (a line maintenance base) had no suitable spot for compass swings so when an aircraft on on occasion ran out of compass swing currency at that port we had to wait a week before the weather improved enough to get it to another maintenance base to have the swing carried out. Quite frustrating!

Can't imagine how you'd compass swing a 747, but even those behemouths have standby magnetic compasses so it'd need to be done somehow...

Adam

Fareastdriver
12th Jul 2012, 09:25
I imagine compass swinging is a thing of the past with today's sophisticated Heading Instruments,

Today's sophisticated heading instruments don't work unless the magnetic detector unit is calibrated. Still done the same way after all those years.

Chugalug2
12th Jul 2012, 11:03
How telling, and somewhat surprising that the relationships in a "mixed" IAF Squadron could be so edgy. Perhaps there was a premonition not only of coming independence, but of the bloody path that would be trodden in the getting there. It contrasts starkly with the international nature of Bomber Command's Squadrons in WWII so vividly illustrated recently by the contingents of veterans from the British Commonwealth and elsewhere, in Green Park for the BC Memorial Unveiling. A flavour of what that could entail may be gained from Michael Bentine's recollection of a wild party at a Polish squadron culminating with him (then an RAF Intelligence Officer, and English son of a Peruvian father) dancing the Mazurka with the Poles down their main runway. Clearly, or at least one has to presume, there was no flying that night!
The humdrum tasks of military life could not be better illustrated than by your description of your "knitting circle" as you and your colleagues variously knitted, purled, and slipped your way through the ball, incendiary, and tracer variants of your yarn. No doubt as in any knitting circle the conversation centred on anything but the job in hand!
It comes as rather a shock that those seemingly endless "belts" of ammo that we see the armourers feeding into the wings and turrets of wartime aircraft had to be so laboriously constructed beforehand. That is yet something else new for me, and a clear illustration of the unique value of this thread and of the education that it imparts.
As others have said, compass swinging is a rather more familiar scene, and little changed over the years. The "Compass Base" on any airfield is always a "wild and lonely place, yea ken" for it has by definition to be as little affected by external influences to the Earth's Magnetic Field as possible. A pleasant enough duty on a bright and sunny day, quite the opposite in inclement weather I fear, M'Lud.

Danny42C
12th Jul 2012, 18:13
Kookabat,

It's heart-warming for an old man to hear that things he knew so well seventy years ago are still being done in exactly the same way today. But yes, a 747 would be a bit of a handful (how about an Airbus 380?)

Suggestions: a) How about a big turntable - like the ones the old steam locos were turned round on (it would have to be "de-gaussed", of course, like the shipping in WW2); b) jacking the thing up and mounting each wheel on a sort of castor or sideways-facing roller skate (plus an elephant to push it - or the turntable -) round ? Pom Pax (#2721) knows the market, may be able to find you one.

Danny
**********

Fareastdriver,

Yes, wasn't there a case donkey's years ago when a civil crew put "George" in; then all went to sleep over the Sahara; the Nav had set the variation on the compass master unit wrong way round; they awoke about a thousand miles off track; it was a bit hairy but they managed to get it down somewhere all right, as I remember, but had some explaining to do to the passengers.

Danny.
**********

Chugalug,

Yes, it wan't a comfortable situation to be living in, but we got the job done all the same, and had a few laughs on the way. But the Partition massacres were no joke - unfortunately, when they got rid of the Hated Colonial Oppressor, Pax Britannica went with him.

I don't think B.C. crews at home had to hand fill their belts; I suppose Command would decide the sequence and the factory or M.U. would do the job wholesale (it would be all the same for all the guns) on some sort of machine, so the stuff would come ready for the AG to load into his turret. Don't really know.

Compass Swinging Platforms found a subsidiary use as Station roller-skating rinks in the years when that was the current craze.

Danny.

Hipper
12th Jul 2012, 20:10
Danny, were you and your Indian colleagues aware of the 'Indian National Army'?

Indian National Army - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Indian_National_Army)

Union Jack
12th Jul 2012, 20:38
How telling, and somewhat surprising that the relationships in a "mixed" IAF Squadron could be so edgy

I wondered too about the prospects future partition may have had in the minds of the 8 Squadron IAF people with their very diverse backgrounds, not least Angllo Indians such as Thomas who must have had serious doubts about what lay ahead - and correctly so.

Jack