A Night to Remember -- part 10. Eight minutes to target, and green markers are going down
ONWARD into the night we drone, check the heading, the airspeed, the altimeter, we’ve gained a couple of hundred feet, trim nose down a bit. Must be getting a little lighter as we burn off some fuel. The green glow of the instruments seem so bright now that they seem to be burning into my eyes, it must be past my bed time. How nice it would be to be in bed now, all warm and safe instead of four miles up in the dark over Germany with the Luftwaffe intent on killing you.
“Rear gunner to pilot, there’s flak and searchlights about five miles on the starboard quarter.” “Pilot to rear gunner, roger, somebody’s wandered over Cologne I expect”. “It might be a diversionary raid” says the engineer who is standing next to me, scanning all his engine instruments and writing up his log with the aid of his glow-worm of a torch. “Yes, engineer, let’s hope it works, we’re only about 20 minutes to the target now, engines look happy?” “Yes skip”. “Navigator to pilot, we’re running a couple of minutes early, can you cut the speed back to 175?” “Pilot to navigator, wilco”.
Bring back the throttles a bit, trim up the nose, and the airspeed creeps back to 175, a slight adjustment to the pitch levers and the four big engines resume their regular drone. “Navigator to pilot, it’s 14 minutes to the turning point then 10.5 minutes to run into the target.” “Pilot to navigator, roger, things will start hotting up soon chaps, everybody keep your eyes skinned” “OK skipper”. “Special to pilot, there’s a lot more fighter activity now skipper.” “Ok Special, did you hear that chaps? Keep your eyes open, gunners.” “Bombaimer to pilot, it’s all looking very quiet and dark ahead skipper.” “OK bombaimer, I expect they will be switching on the bright lights for you soon.”
“Navigator to pilot, turning point in one minute, then onto 171 compass”. “Roger navigator, 171 compass it is”. Only 10 minutes to the target now. You can feel the tension growing, five pairs of eyes constantly searching the blackness for a darker patch that may be an enemy fighter or at best another Lancaster on a collision course. It may come from above, or below, fighters usually attack from behind and below, but only the gunners have a chance to see them, so I swing the aircraft slightly from side to side to give them a chance to spot them under our tail.
Eight minutes to the target now and some green TIs (target indicators) start to go down, way out in front and on our starboard bow. That’s right, it must be our target because we have a 20 degree turn to starboard for a short run-up of ten miles to target. “Pilot to bombaimer, you had better get your gear set up.” “Bombaimer to pilot, all set skipper, they’re beginning to switch on the lights now.” “Yes, searchlights and a bit of flak going up now”.
Suddenly over to port there is a concentrated load of flak finishing with a bright orange ball of fire as another Lancaster is hit. “Another one’s got the chop skipper” somebody shouts over the intercom. “Pilot to mid-upper, if that’s you, OK I saw it. Pilot to navigator, log that one, over Frankfurt I guess.” “OK skipper.”