Douglas Boston questions
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John Hardie's Crew
Hi Steve,
I spent some time going through Dad's Log book last night, boy he has some nice planes in there, nothing like the ones in my log book!
I do have a Wirraway and Mustang to my credit but only single flights.
To the purpose of my Post. His crew were F/S Fox also mentioned as W/O Fox, F/S Gregson and F/S Johnson. There are two others mentioned as well but only once for each, perhaps a sick crew member? They were F/S James and W/O M.Inoletti.
Perhaps Eric will have known them? There last flights were formation flights after VE day perhaps a show of Strength? It all makes very interesting reading and the 601 entry's make good reading as well !
I look forward to hearing how you got on,
Cheers,
John Hardie.
I spent some time going through Dad's Log book last night, boy he has some nice planes in there, nothing like the ones in my log book!
I do have a Wirraway and Mustang to my credit but only single flights.
To the purpose of my Post. His crew were F/S Fox also mentioned as W/O Fox, F/S Gregson and F/S Johnson. There are two others mentioned as well but only once for each, perhaps a sick crew member? They were F/S James and W/O M.Inoletti.
Perhaps Eric will have known them? There last flights were formation flights after VE day perhaps a show of Strength? It all makes very interesting reading and the 601 entry's make good reading as well !
I look forward to hearing how you got on,
Cheers,
John Hardie.
Hi John,
Well the good news is that yes, Eric does remember your father. He thought he was a New Zealander (sorry about that), and seemed to think he came back to England not long after the war for a squadron reunion in London, although he is not sure about that.
Not much I'm afraid, but the name rang a bell with Eric immediately, which is pretty good considering they were not on the same crew and it was 65 years ago!
Regards
Steve
Well the good news is that yes, Eric does remember your father. He thought he was a New Zealander (sorry about that), and seemed to think he came back to England not long after the war for a squadron reunion in London, although he is not sure about that.
Not much I'm afraid, but the name rang a bell with Eric immediately, which is pretty good considering they were not on the same crew and it was 65 years ago!
Regards
Steve
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John Hardie's Crew
Hi Steve,
Thankyou for going to the trouble to ask Eric about Dad.
Always a good gag the NewZealand one! And we Hardie's are a memorable lot even after 65 years!
Dad returned to the UK in 1947 so there is every possibility that he would have gone to the reunion that Eric mentioned. He did love a party.
One story he did tell me about his second mission was when they were flying very low the B/A yelled at him to "Pull up Andy" rather urgently, he said he pulled up and just cleared the church spire which he had not seen. Said he had nightmares about that one for years, also another one when he found himself below sea level on the altimeter when over water and never knowing how close he was. He said he pulled up very gently just incase he put the tail in the water!
Its amazing any of them survived really, he said the German flack barges were incredibly accurate and a very good thing to avoid, something about them being very angry when you were dropping bombs on them and straffing.
Give Eric my regards, it's amazing the internet I even found photo's of dad when he was in 601 my family had never seen.
Cheers,
John.
Thankyou for going to the trouble to ask Eric about Dad.
Always a good gag the NewZealand one! And we Hardie's are a memorable lot even after 65 years!
Dad returned to the UK in 1947 so there is every possibility that he would have gone to the reunion that Eric mentioned. He did love a party.
One story he did tell me about his second mission was when they were flying very low the B/A yelled at him to "Pull up Andy" rather urgently, he said he pulled up and just cleared the church spire which he had not seen. Said he had nightmares about that one for years, also another one when he found himself below sea level on the altimeter when over water and never knowing how close he was. He said he pulled up very gently just incase he put the tail in the water!
Its amazing any of them survived really, he said the German flack barges were incredibly accurate and a very good thing to avoid, something about them being very angry when you were dropping bombs on them and straffing.
Give Eric my regards, it's amazing the internet I even found photo's of dad when he was in 601 my family had never seen.
Cheers,
John.
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John Hardie's Crew
My father was on 88 sqn and also a Boston skipper, thought you might like to read one of his escapades.
The Saga of the Wingco's Kite
It was shortly after "D" Day and the British and Canadian troops were desperately trying to break out from Caen, but having little success. Meanwhile Rommel was pushing reinforcements forward as fast as possible.
H.Q. received a report from the French Resistance that a Panzer division had massed in the forest near Alencon and were expected to move out that same night, this resulted in instructions being passed to the French and British squadrons to arrange a maximum effort intruder attack on anything that moved in the area.
My navigator was a brilliant young Canadian , a product of McGill University and a red hot map reader and bomb aimer. He plotted a route which crossed a sharp V bend in the Sarthe river, which pointed directly towards the target area and for this reason, we were the first away. My aircraft, G for Glenda, (navigator's girlfriend) was on inspection and I was given the Wingco's pride and joy, his beautifully polished brand new private steed, what a thrill for a sprog F/O !
Geoff 'breaks off' in his own kite G-Glenda. (Not the Wingco's pride and joy which he flew on the raid!!)
It was a lovely moonlight night and we approached the river without incident, but having crossed it, everything changed !!! Suddenly All hell broke loose and coloured fireworks began flashing past the windows, we were bathed in the glare of searchlights and two almighty bangs followed which shook the aircraft to its boots, then suddenly the rays of the searchlights were coming through the cockpit floor. I immediately began to wonder how long it would be before the eleven second delay fuses on our bomb load detonated and fragments of my aircraft, self and crew would be scattered over a wide area of the oft - quoted "Foreign Field". I had started counting off the seconds when my thoughts were rudely interrupted by a stream of North American obscenities which came screaming over the intercom from my normally quietly spoken navigator. "Let's go back and get the S.o.Bs " he shouted. I know exactly where the S.o.Bs are. (and this was the mild stuff).
Personally I was not very keen on the idea, but as he correctly maintained, other aircraft following might not be so fortunate. Everything seemed to be working O.K, we were trundling along quite happily except for a hell of a draught plus the odd shudder and shake - and since the Wingco's kite appeared to have absorbed the punishment as a Wingco's kite should - I made a very wide circuit, picked up the original track, descended to 150 feet and selected two 500 pounders and a canister of incendiaries. Speed was now of the essence and with its donkeys giving everything they had to give, the Wingco's kite raced once again towards the bend in the river. As we crossed the water the Nav. yelled "I can see them, I can see the B..s, dead ahead - bombs away" (High drama indeed - Biggles couldn't match it). I made a climbing turn out of there and looked back a few seconds later to see the whole area explode and burn furiously - must have been much more there than just a clutch of guns !! Thinking the fire would act as a useful navigational aid we headed for the main target. I later congratulated the Nav. on his ability and suggested that one day he should try his luck on the stage, but he said he might have difficulty adapting to the life style because he was a Baptist . I didn't press the point, but doubted whether he'd learned his vocabulary at Sunday School.
Upon returning to base we completed the F.700, declaring the aircraft to be Cat.4 (extensive damage), went to de-briefing and then to our beds. The following morning we reported to the flight office expecting a pat on the back and perhaps a bit of the "well done thou good and faithful servants", but nothing of the kind! When the Wingco saw the damage to his beautiful aeroplane - a gaping hole where the bomb doors used to be and the belly ripped open right back to the rear hatch - his rage was terrible to behold, (much more frightening than being shot at by the enemy) and he seemed to have it fixed in his head that the damage was sustained whilst making an unauthorised attack on the gun battery and not earlier, whilst overflying. Luckily, the A.O.C. visited the squadron a few days later and when he learned of our escapade and being something of a tearaway himself, said it was a "Jolly good show" which, with the arrival of a replacement aircraft, nearly as shiny as the damaged one, caused the storm to slowly subside. Nevertheless, the dear old Wingco never addressed me by my first name again.
The Saga of the Wingco's Kite
It was shortly after "D" Day and the British and Canadian troops were desperately trying to break out from Caen, but having little success. Meanwhile Rommel was pushing reinforcements forward as fast as possible.
H.Q. received a report from the French Resistance that a Panzer division had massed in the forest near Alencon and were expected to move out that same night, this resulted in instructions being passed to the French and British squadrons to arrange a maximum effort intruder attack on anything that moved in the area.
My navigator was a brilliant young Canadian , a product of McGill University and a red hot map reader and bomb aimer. He plotted a route which crossed a sharp V bend in the Sarthe river, which pointed directly towards the target area and for this reason, we were the first away. My aircraft, G for Glenda, (navigator's girlfriend) was on inspection and I was given the Wingco's pride and joy, his beautifully polished brand new private steed, what a thrill for a sprog F/O !
Geoff 'breaks off' in his own kite G-Glenda. (Not the Wingco's pride and joy which he flew on the raid!!)
It was a lovely moonlight night and we approached the river without incident, but having crossed it, everything changed !!! Suddenly All hell broke loose and coloured fireworks began flashing past the windows, we were bathed in the glare of searchlights and two almighty bangs followed which shook the aircraft to its boots, then suddenly the rays of the searchlights were coming through the cockpit floor. I immediately began to wonder how long it would be before the eleven second delay fuses on our bomb load detonated and fragments of my aircraft, self and crew would be scattered over a wide area of the oft - quoted "Foreign Field". I had started counting off the seconds when my thoughts were rudely interrupted by a stream of North American obscenities which came screaming over the intercom from my normally quietly spoken navigator. "Let's go back and get the S.o.Bs " he shouted. I know exactly where the S.o.Bs are. (and this was the mild stuff).
Personally I was not very keen on the idea, but as he correctly maintained, other aircraft following might not be so fortunate. Everything seemed to be working O.K, we were trundling along quite happily except for a hell of a draught plus the odd shudder and shake - and since the Wingco's kite appeared to have absorbed the punishment as a Wingco's kite should - I made a very wide circuit, picked up the original track, descended to 150 feet and selected two 500 pounders and a canister of incendiaries. Speed was now of the essence and with its donkeys giving everything they had to give, the Wingco's kite raced once again towards the bend in the river. As we crossed the water the Nav. yelled "I can see them, I can see the B..s, dead ahead - bombs away" (High drama indeed - Biggles couldn't match it). I made a climbing turn out of there and looked back a few seconds later to see the whole area explode and burn furiously - must have been much more there than just a clutch of guns !! Thinking the fire would act as a useful navigational aid we headed for the main target. I later congratulated the Nav. on his ability and suggested that one day he should try his luck on the stage, but he said he might have difficulty adapting to the life style because he was a Baptist . I didn't press the point, but doubted whether he'd learned his vocabulary at Sunday School.
Upon returning to base we completed the F.700, declaring the aircraft to be Cat.4 (extensive damage), went to de-briefing and then to our beds. The following morning we reported to the flight office expecting a pat on the back and perhaps a bit of the "well done thou good and faithful servants", but nothing of the kind! When the Wingco saw the damage to his beautiful aeroplane - a gaping hole where the bomb doors used to be and the belly ripped open right back to the rear hatch - his rage was terrible to behold, (much more frightening than being shot at by the enemy) and he seemed to have it fixed in his head that the damage was sustained whilst making an unauthorised attack on the gun battery and not earlier, whilst overflying. Luckily, the A.O.C. visited the squadron a few days later and when he learned of our escapade and being something of a tearaway himself, said it was a "Jolly good show" which, with the arrival of a replacement aircraft, nearly as shiny as the damaged one, caused the storm to slowly subside. Nevertheless, the dear old Wingco never addressed me by my first name again.
Last edited by Bwana; 22nd May 2011 at 15:03.
Superb picture Bwana, thanks for that.
And a good tale too. Seeing the Nav. in his 'office' in the picture and reading the account, Bill's job in the Boston comes into focus. Superb view from the navigators position but one must have felt so vulnerable, no illusion of protection at all.
And a good tale too. Seeing the Nav. in his 'office' in the picture and reading the account, Bill's job in the Boston comes into focus. Superb view from the navigators position but one must have felt so vulnerable, no illusion of protection at all.
Last edited by Rory57; 28th Nov 2010 at 09:43. Reason: More to say
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To Rory57
Hope the article gave some idea of the Navigators job on Bostons, there is also a posting on the internet by family of a Boston navigator of 88sqn on D-day. BBC - WW2 People's War - My D-Day Experience 6th June 1944: 88 Squadron RAF
My father was also on the D-Day raid laying smoke from G-Glenda and flew a second sortie that day to support the Invasion troops near Caen.
My father was also on the D-Day raid laying smoke from G-Glenda and flew a second sortie that day to support the Invasion troops near Caen.
Last edited by Bwana; 28th Nov 2010 at 16:49.
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hi guys. I know this is a very long shot, but i notice there are people here who are related to or know people from 88 squadron. Could i respectfully ask if anyone here knows of my godfather, Roslyn Graham Langdon Clark, service number 1601494. He was an air gunner, transferred to 88 squadron in late 1942 from 464 squadron, but i have been unable to find out anything after he left 464.
many thanks
steve williamson
[email protected]
many thanks
steve williamson
[email protected]
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"Boston" in Ostend - Your Father in law
Hello Rory57
Per coincidence, I discovered your question about the Boston that was shot down in Ostend, Belgium on April 27th 1942. I read that your late Father in Law was a member of the crew. Unfortunately, Sgt Handford was KIA and is buried in Ostend. We visited his grave today in Ostend, November 11 2015 !
I did find some pictures made by my late Uncle, the day of the crash in Ostend. When he passed away, I got his photo album and there I did find those historic pictures.
If you want, I can send you copies of these pictures, so that the "circle is closed"
Sincerely,
Ivan
Per coincidence, I discovered your question about the Boston that was shot down in Ostend, Belgium on April 27th 1942. I read that your late Father in Law was a member of the crew. Unfortunately, Sgt Handford was KIA and is buried in Ostend. We visited his grave today in Ostend, November 11 2015 !
I did find some pictures made by my late Uncle, the day of the crash in Ostend. When he passed away, I got his photo album and there I did find those historic pictures.
If you want, I can send you copies of these pictures, so that the "circle is closed"
Sincerely,
Ivan
Paxing All Over The World
My father was navigator in the Turbinlite variant of this. He and his pilot hated it and thought it one of the dumbest ideas of all time. As it was with other crews - they saw nothing and got nothing! Well, their attached fighter got nothing as some might not know that the batteries to run the light meant that the aircraft had to be stripped to basics with just two crew and NO armaments of any kind.
One they got on to Beaus and radar - they could hit back.
One they got on to Beaus and radar - they could hit back.
To IRS49
Thank you for the offer Ivan, yes I would like copies of the pictures very much.
I have tried to message you but that does not seem to work, maybe because you are new to this forum it is not allowed yet?.
Perhaps you can message me with an email address. http://www.pprune.org/private.php?do=newpm
This links to "send new message" in the control panel)
Rory
I have tried to message you but that does not seem to work, maybe because you are new to this forum it is not allowed yet?.
Perhaps you can message me with an email address. http://www.pprune.org/private.php?do=newpm
This links to "send new message" in the control panel)
Rory
