Counting the cost as the war comes to an end
Post no. 21 from the memoirs of Tempest pilot Flt Lt Jack Stafford, DFC, RNZAF
The three previous posts relating to the Munster Rhubarb are Jack Stafford's only reference to his hundreds of sorties, and he was clearly affected by the loss of his friends. His comment: “Home, safe, alive, no more flak until tomorrow, I could hardly believe it” gives an idea of the stress he and his comrades must have been under, as his fellow Tempest pilot Pierre Clostermann also refers to the flak as his greatest problem in so many ground attacks.
A few days later, on Christmas Day 1944, Jack and Flying Officer Bremner were credited with the squadron's first confirmed Me262 jet fighter. The jet was turning towards them when Jack opened fire, sending pieces flying off one engine. It then turned away, showing remarkable speed on one engine, but the Tempests kept pace and shot it down. Jack was awarded the DFC, promoted to flight lieutenant in February 1945 and made flight commander of A Flight. On April 12 he shot down an Fw190D-9 east of Ludwigslust, his last of the war.
On May 15, less than a fortnight after the end of the European war, he was posted from Volkel to 80 Sqn at Fassberg, the airfield close to Munster which he had planned to attack on his ill-fated Rhubarb a few months before. Jack's final tally was two confirmed kills, three shared and eight V-1 flying bombs destroyed.
THE WAR had been over for some little time, though the evidence of battle remained. Bailey bridges spanned the many streams and rivers, while the remnants of centuries-old bridges lay nearby in ruins. Towns were just rubble, a few walls still stood here and there but many areas were virtually obliterated. The testimony to all the violence and destruction of war was there for all to see.
Our squadron, on the other hand, was housed in comparative luxury on the ex-Luftwaffe base at Fassberg, which for some reason had not been properly bombed. Its beautiful mess and billets made a great change from the privations of Holland and the canvas walls of other German airfields we had occupied. Our job would hardly have been considered recreational flying by most people, but once the shooting stopped we flew and fought each other in practice dogfights, enjoying the wonderful Tempest as a sport. Yet for all its many virtues, the Tempest glided like a brick.
The antithesis to our outstanding and massive fighter sat in the undamaged hangars of our new base. Gliders and sailplanes such as I had never seen sat on their skids, or little trolleys, waiting to be appreciated and loved. There were large ones, small ones, some with an unbelievable wingspan, others by comparison looking dumpy. The first RAF personnel to occupy this site obtained help from captured Luftwaffe ground staff to restore the gliders to serviceability and our own ground crew were more than competent to maintain these beautiful sailplanes. My interest quickened as I walked past them for several days, I was increasingly taken by their beauty and frailty. The Tempest was anything but frail and the contrast attracted me.
A glider brings the problem of getting it into the air so it can glide. We found a small frame-and-wing primary glider which could get airborne behind a jeep as we tore round the perimeter track. This was great fun but the glider did not survive the rough treatment. However, the departing Germans had thoughtfully provided us with a small Focke-Wulf Fw44 biplane with a Siemens radial engine. They called this beautiful little trainer Steiglitz (Goldfinch) and I loved to fly it. In another hangar we discovered a powerful high-wing monoplane, the Fw56 Stosser (Falcon) an advanced trainer with outstanding performance from its 260 bhp Argus V8 engine. We swiftly adapted both aircraft as glider tugs.