More of Peter Brett's Hawker Typhoon memories
Here, Peter tells of his exploits over northern France just before and after D- day ...
May 1944 ended with the squadron flying to Newchurch to do an operation. When the time came to start up for the show my Coffman starter failed to fire and I missed the operation. It took over half an hour to fix the starter so, when the engine did finally start, all I could do was return to Thorney island.
On 2nd June it was the radar station on Cap d'Antifer again and this time we were able to attack properly. There was a lot of light flak but once again nobody was hit. This particular radar station, as we subsequently found out, was the major station which covered the whole of the approaches to what was to become the invasion area. Apart from the attacks with which I was involved, the wing also attacked this station at least every few days and it was constantly a priority target. Several other radar stations much further up the coast towards Belgium were also the subject of repeated attacks so that the one on Cap d'Antifer did not appear to be suffering special attention. Although of course it was.
Then suddenly it was June 6th and D-Day! The only flying I did on this momentous day was to be spare on an operation which took off about 6 am. Since nobody turned back I turned back myself. This time however, I hung on for several miles across the channel to take in what was such an awesome sight.
The sky was a mass of aircraft at varying heights and of every imaginable type: Lancasters, Flying Fortresses, Dakotas towing gliders, Spitfires, Mustangs and of course Typhoons. The sea was just a layer of ships as far as the eye could see -all heading towards France. There was everything from fairly small transports carrying landing craft to the largest battleships. On the way back I saw, more or less bringing up the rear, the first elements of the 'Mulberry' harbour being towed by tugs and a weird sort of huge cotton reel which turned out to be the first stage of 'PLUTO' (Pipe Line Under The Ocean) which eventually supplied all the vast amounts of petrol which were used by the invading forces. These latter of course were only able to travel very slowly and did not arrive on the beacheads until later when they had been well secured.
June 7th was a busy day. Taking off at first light, I took part in an offensive R/P recco south-east of Le-Havre. We met no opposition, but attacked an MT convoy near Lisieux. We looked around for other targets but there did not seem to be much moving in this area and we had to return due to shortage of fuel. I landed at Ford for refuelling before returning to Thorney.
In the afternoon I set off once again for a long range sweep south of Caen. Just as I got airborne, the aircraft gave a lurch to port and I had difficulty keeping the port wing up. I carried on climbing to try and join up with the rest of the squadron but was called up by ground control and told 'RTB, RTB' (Return to Base). I peeled off port and looked back at the airfield to witness a most extraordinary sight. It seemed that the last half of the runway was on fire!. What had happened was just after I had got off the ground, my starboard long-range tank had fallen off. Since I was by the time doing well over 100mph the tank had hit the runway and the impact had split the tank and ignited the 45 gallons of petrol which was then spread along the runway like a 'Napalm' bomb. The two chaps who were taking off after me - we took off in pairs - had to fly through a wall of smoke and flame. I had to return and land since I obviously would not have had enough fuel to complete the mission and the 'spare man' took over.
I did not fly again until the morning of the 10th June when I was No.2 to Wing Commander J.M.Bryan on an armed recco south east of Caen. As we swung round south of the city the Wingco evidently saw something of interest below and peeled off in a steep dive to starboard. We went down to about 600 feet and the Wingco went into a steep starboard turn. I was flying about twenty feet above him in the turn. Suddenly there was a burst of flame and he turned over on his back and dived into the ground. I broke violently to port and pulled up. As I climbed away there was a stream of tracer just off my starboard wing. Why I did it I don't know, but I instinctively turned back starboard into the flak. The tracer disappeared and the number three, who was following me, told me that the tracer suddenly swung to port just as I swung to starboard, thus missing me by miles. I realised later that somebody at OTU had drummed into me "ALWAYS turn into the flak". This was obviously good advice since, when the gunner saw that he was off target he would try to correct his aim by swinging towards the aircraft. If the aircraft at the same time swung towards the flak he would over correct and miss again. This is what happened then, and by the time that the gunner realised what was happening I was out of range. Losing the Wing Commander so suddenly was a shattering experience and I, now the leader, decided that enough was enough and we headed back.
In the afternoon we were again near Caen but this time with a specific target. This was a convoy of AFV's (Armoured Fighting Vehicles). We attacked from low level and I scored a direct hit on a tank with my salvo of rockets. The salvo blew off the turret which was flung into the air. I did not realise it at the time but the chap following me said that it looked as if I had flown UNDER the turret as I went through the explosion and over the tank. I know I was pretty low and that I flew through the cloud of smoke from the explosion so I suppose it is just possible, although it sounds unlikely.
At this time we were being moved around continuously; flying to other airfields to do operations and then returning to ThorneyIsland in the evening. On the 15th June I led an attack on a ferry at Le Havre. Surprisingly there was little anti aircraft opposition and we all managed to hit the target which was left on fire. The next three operations in which I took part were all aborted due to either very thick haze or low cloud cover. On the last of these on July 5th the squadron was diverted to Ford on return.
The next day, July 6th I attempted to return to base but suffered an engine failure on take-off. I lined up with the runway and opened the throttle. Everything seemed normal at first but, as I opened the throttle further the power did not seem to increase. I opened up to emergency full boost but the power continued to fade and, just before I reached flying speed the engine quit completely. Luckily Ford had a fairly long runway and I had time to switch off the ignition and petrol before I had to jab at the brakes with full right rudder and 'ground-loop' off the runway. Finishing up on the grass pointing back in the opposite direction. I had shot off the runway about fifty yards from the end and left grooves in the grass within twenty feet of the boundary fence. Had the engine quit a bit later, or had I been going much faster I would have shot straight off the end of the runway and finished up ploughing into the WAAF quarters huts which were sited just the other side on the fence.
Investigation showed that the main drive to all the auxiliaries, petrol pumps, cooling pumps, magnetos, etc., had seized solid and the engine had ceased to produce any power at all! I was picked up by another pilot in an Auster and flown back to Thorney island.
More soon ==TOW