A Night to Remember -part 4
AS WE file into the briefing room all eyes go to the big map on the wall to see where the red ribbon goes to. Where is it? Frankfurt? Mainz? The loud general chatter and the scraping of chairs as the crews get themselves grouped together at the tables is suddenly silenced by the arrival of the AOC, the station commander G/Capt King, and the squadron commander W/Com. de la Everest.
Everybody stands until brought to ease by the squadron commander who steps up to the briefing platform. "Tonight's target is Russelsheim, between Mainz and Frankfurt" as he indicates the spot on the map, using a long pointer. "It's the Opel motor works that we have to flatten gentlemen, in order to reduce Hitler's already shortening war supplies even further.
"There will be 450 aircraft on the raid and as usual this squadron will be timed to be spaced evenly through the bomber stream. Start engines at 21.00 hrs for take-off at 21.30 hrs. Climb on track for Skegness where you will join the main stream at your allotted times. Climb on track again to be at this point on the Dutch coast at 18,000 ft, then on to the next turning point here (again the stick taps the chart) when you should be at your bombing height of 21,000 ft"........and so on.
Then follows the Met man with news of fair weather, then the navigation leader emphasising the importance of staying on track and in the stream and on time to the half minute, then the Intelligence officer with warnings of heavily defended areas to avoid, "the run into the target will be from the north-west between Mainz and Frankfurt so hold your track to avoid these areas". Then the bombing leader and the flight engineering leader and the gunnery leader, all with their instructions and words of warning. Set your watches, and finally a word of encouragement from the AOC, "hit the target hard and good luck chaps".
There's a look of determination on some of the faces now. We know the job and how to do it. This is what we have been trained for and we feel confident. The general chatter gets louder as we all file out of the briefing room to walk to the locker room to get kitted up for the trip. For most of the crew it's just flying boots, a sweater and silk scarf, Mae West and a parachute. Let's hope that we don't have to use them.
The gunners and special operators have to put on heavier, warmer gear because it's colder in their part of the aircraft, down to minus 30C or less at altitude, and there’s no heating back there. The Special and his radio equipment have a curtained-off compartment just in front of the mid-upper turret.
Pockets are emptied of letters, bus tickets, cinema tickets and anything that could be of use to enemy intelligence in the event of being shot down. I notice Smithy, our rear gunner, slip his lucky wishbone into his top pocket before he struggles into his thick, yellow, electrically heated suit and he catches my eye with a shy grin on his face. I hope it works! I mean, the wishbone. All kitted up and ready to go we file out to the crew buses to take us out to the aircraft.
The buses trundle around the perimeter track full of noise and ribald remarks. Nerves are stretched to breaking point now. It's funny how you feel chilly and a little shivery at this point regardless of the temperature, but it will be all right when we get on board the aircraft. We drop off the crews at their respective aircraft with loud shouts of "farewell" and "good luck" and "see you in the morning". Then the shout of "Nan Squared" means that we have arrived at our dispersal.