A Spitfire Plot - Part 22
72 Sqn – June 1942, Channel rescues, stripes and boat-bashing
In June we carried on doing sweeps over France, sometimes taking bombers and sometimes a straightforward fighter sweep in the hope that some of the enemy aircraft would come up and have a go at us. The flak was still pretty vicious and over Abbeville we were jumped by a stack of 190s and although we flew round and round, I didn’t get a decent chance to squirt so I came back with my guns unfired. There really wasn’t any point in banging away like mad at anything that came in view, unless you were right on top of the 190 it was pointless spraying anything for to begin with we only had 13 seconds fire. We had a drum of 60 cannon shells and 250 rounds of .303 for the machine guns, which gave us 6 seconds fire for the cannon and about 12 ½ or 13 seconds on the machine gun. Consequently you weren’t really in a position to spray everything within sight.
On 6th June we were sent down to Manston for an Air Sea rescue job. Apparently a bomber had been shot down just off the Dutch coast or the Belgian coast, somewhere, they weren’t sure and we were supposed to be looking for some chaps in a dinghy. Well we took off and scoured the North Sea as far as we could, couldn’t find anything, and then we came back, landed, ‘B’ Flight took off and searched again and they were just about to return when P/O Kitchen spotted five bomber chaps in a dinghy just off Ostende. So he reported that and we immediately took off to give them cover and at the same time an Air Sea rescue launch shot out from Dover or somewhere to pick up these bomber boys. So we covered the launch until it picked up these bomber boys and it really was exciting to watch them. I don’t know how fast the launch was going but it left a wash about half a mile long, it really was moving. Anyway, it got out to the dinghy, swung round, hooked up the dinghy, grabbed the chaps aboard, all without stopping and then belted for home. Now by this time we thought as we were obviously visible from Ostende we’d be surrounded by 190s and we’d probably have a decent little fight. In actual fact nothing came over to have a bang at us, so we escorted the launch back, landed at Manston, refuelled and went back to Biggin.
Some time later we received a letter from the bomber boys, enclosing £1, and saying please have a drink on us, they were more than pleased at being picked up.
Now on 16th June I took a new chap to have a look round the sector and we landed at Lympne, had a look round, then flew back to Biggin and as soon as I landed and started walking back to the dispersal, Tommy Wright and George came rushing out and grabbed my sergeants stripes and ripped them off. Apparently my commission had come through. I was taken into the Officers’ Mess at lunchtime, where I had to buy a beer for Group Captain Barwell, the station commander, and Jamie Rankin who both insisted that the first drink I paid for must be theirs, which pleased me no end. After that I was told to go up to London and organise my new gear. So I went up to Burberrys and all I could actually come away with was an officers-type hat, gloves and two little bits of P/O tape which I managed to stick on my battledress and then went up to see Mum, who was obviously quite chuffed.
I moved my gear from the sergeants billet to a very nice room in a little house not very far from the Officers’ Mess. It was very nice having batmen look after you and do all the little cleaning jobs that we had to do ourselves as sergeants and I must admit I felt seven feet tall.
Well naturally, the sergeants expected a little bit of a beer-up on the occasion of my commission and consequently that night we repaired to The Jail pub. We all cycled down there and had a very pleasant evening, lots of beer went to and fro, but very late on I managed to get on my bicycle and get as far as my little room without falling over and breaking anything. Jack Hilton and Jim Norton, the two old sweats I’d shared a room with when I first joined 72, quite enjoyed themselves that night, but it wasn’t until the following day we heard how they got home. Apparently, Jack, who was a little chap, would try and get on his bike, put his foot on the pedal, run the bike along, fling his other leg over the bike and immediately collapse in a heap. Well having done this three times and finished up in a ditch they decided the best bet would be to walk back to the sergeants billet, which they did. They managed to get as far as the front lawn and their room was on the ground floor, first on the left as you went through the door. Well, as I say, they got as far as the lawn and decided, that was as far as they could go and they both collapsed on the lawn, stayed there all night and were called up in the morning. But from what I gather it was quite a splendid evening!
The following day four of us went down to the Le Harve basin, to see if we could shoot up some shipping. “Timber” Woods was leading with Sergeant Fosse, a Norwegian, as his number 2 and George and I who was flying as my number 2. Well we spread out and started looking for these boats and I passed over a couple of little boats that I didn’t think were worth hitting, but “Timber” was shouting at me to have a go at them, so I came back and said OK and did a half-hearted attack on one of them and eventually after the others had finished shooting holes in the boats, we climbed up and came back. Well naturally all our r/t chat had been recorded at Biggin and when we got back to dispersal, there was the station commander, Group Captain Barwell, the Intelligence Officer, Squadron Leader de la Tour, waiting for us to come in and chat to them. They were very worried that we might have shot up two little tiny boats that were really French and were not French-cum-German and we might have upset the feelings of the French. Now “Timber” was most upset about this and by the time he’d finished explaining to the two senior characters what we’d been doing you would have thought we’d have shot up a destroyer, but they seemed fairly happy about it, so long as we hadn’t upset the French, so they turned and walked away from dispersal and just as they went through the door, “Timber” turned to me and said,
“Robbie, next time we’ll break both their bloody oars!” and that was that.
Having decided that we were very good at shooting up shipping, the powers that be decided we’d go out and have another go, so out we went to the Le Harve basin again and this time we came across a fairly large coaster which started firing at me before I got within range and consequently we had no compunction about letting fly and the four of us left it, as they say, in a sinking condition.
That night there was a party in the Officers’ Mess, to which the Sergeant Pilots were invited and we made it another cause for celebration of my commission. I still hadn’t got a uniform, so I borrowed a spare one from P/O Jones, who’d just joined us and entered into the spirit of the festivities with great vim and vigour. We went on drinking till after 3 in the morning but four of us were on dawn readiness, and by the time we left the mess to go to our rooms, we decided it was hardly worthwhile going to our rooms to be called early and consequently we walked up to dispersal and lay on the beds there, hoping that no one would call us because it was very rare for anyone to get up and do anything at dawn, the Germans were very late risers. We’d scarcely got our heads down when were told to scramble.
So at half past four in the morning, we were up and belting over the Channel. Apparently we’d been told that some of our MGBs had shot up a German E-Boat and we were supposed to finish it off. Well we shot across the Channel at nought feet, got as far as Calais, couldn’t see anything and edged round the coast, still at nought feet, to within sight of Ostende, where they started hurling these great shells at us. Now none of us were feeling particularly bright and we thought it was a bit of a stupid thing to do, to be sitting where we were, in sight of Ostende and letting everything fly at us. They were shooting up, as I said, these great shells and great gouts of water were shooting up all over the place. I looked round for my number 2, who happened to be the same P/O Jones whose uniform I borrowed and I saw him fly straight through a great pile of water and I thought he’d bought it, but he emerged from the other side, unscathed. So after another five or ten minutes looking round the scene, we never came across the E-Boat, so we tootled back. When we landed the only thing that Jonesy was worried about was the fact that I was still wearing his uniform and he was afraid I might have got it damaged.