Gaining An R.A.F Pilots Brevet In WW II
Yes Danny, I understand it only too well and in preparing my current ramblings I have had to work hard to avoid Irish politics! In fact there was considerable co-operation as will be seen in future postings.
Apropos the measurements mixup, I seem to recall an American B737 crew who thought they had been refuelled in US gallons when in fact they had lbs (pounds). They discovered this when all went quiet at 28,000 ft. Fortunately the captain was a glider pilot as well and made a brilliant dead-stick landing at an airport 40 miles away.
May we all be well fuelled in a peaceful New Year, and may we all have the endurance to see in the next one. Best wishes.
Apropos the measurements mixup, I seem to recall an American B737 crew who thought they had been refuelled in US gallons when in fact they had lbs (pounds). They discovered this when all went quiet at 28,000 ft. Fortunately the captain was a glider pilot as well and made a brilliant dead-stick landing at an airport 40 miles away.
May we all be well fuelled in a peaceful New Year, and may we all have the endurance to see in the next one. Best wishes.
Last edited by Geriaviator; 31st Dec 2013 at 14:01.
Danny:-
My last job before retiring was with Virgin Express, based in Brussels and holding a Belgian AOC. One of their pilots explained the Belgian philosophy to me over a beer (in English I'm afraid Danny, linguistic ability was never my strong point, unlike you).
"They either invade us from the East or from the West, either way you have to do the same thing, bury all your valuables in the back garden and pray that some day you'll be able to dig them up again".
Not wishing to pre-empt the promised referendum, I do however think that this is a crucial difference between the Brits and our Continental neighbours (not showing my hand too much there I hope!). They have nearly all been thus invaded within living memory, or made a bob or two by having their supposed neutrality made useful to both sides. The Brits came close, as they have many times before, to being invaded but were reprieved, as they have been many times before. So never mind burying it, let's spend it!
Whichever philosophy is the better, I couldn't say. I merely make the point that they are very different.
Happy New Year everyone!
"this may be the price of a meal for you - you must take it."
"They either invade us from the East or from the West, either way you have to do the same thing, bury all your valuables in the back garden and pray that some day you'll be able to dig them up again".
Not wishing to pre-empt the promised referendum, I do however think that this is a crucial difference between the Brits and our Continental neighbours (not showing my hand too much there I hope!). They have nearly all been thus invaded within living memory, or made a bob or two by having their supposed neutrality made useful to both sides. The Brits came close, as they have many times before, to being invaded but were reprieved, as they have been many times before. So never mind burying it, let's spend it!
Whichever philosophy is the better, I couldn't say. I merely make the point that they are very different.
Happy New Year everyone!
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Chugalug,
Your quote:
"same thing, bury all your valuables in the back garden and pray * that some day you'll be able to dig them up again". (my asterisk)
In the '42 Burma retreat, a Squadron had to abandon their Messes and get out quick. Their quick-thinking Padre buried all the Mess stock of spirits in the Mess garden. A son of the soil, he knew how to hide a burial - the Japs never found it.
Two years later the Squadron returned; remarkably enough they came back to the same airstrip. The stuff was all there, some of the labels had come off, but a small tasting session remedied that.
Last I heard of the Padre, he'd made Monsignor. Long dead now, of course. (I've forgotten the name). * Shows there is efficacy in prayer !
Happy New Year to you and yours, and to all PPRuNers (active and passive),
Danny.
Your quote:
"same thing, bury all your valuables in the back garden and pray * that some day you'll be able to dig them up again". (my asterisk)
In the '42 Burma retreat, a Squadron had to abandon their Messes and get out quick. Their quick-thinking Padre buried all the Mess stock of spirits in the Mess garden. A son of the soil, he knew how to hide a burial - the Japs never found it.
Two years later the Squadron returned; remarkably enough they came back to the same airstrip. The stuff was all there, some of the labels had come off, but a small tasting session remedied that.
Last I heard of the Padre, he'd made Monsignor. Long dead now, of course. (I've forgotten the name). * Shows there is efficacy in prayer !
Happy New Year to you and yours, and to all PPRuNers (active and passive),
Danny.
The Gimli Glider
I thank Ian and Denis, who prefer not to post, for their messages:
"I wonder if you were thinking of an Air Canada 767 out of Montreal? When it was refuelled there was an error in thinking lbs versus kg or vice versa.They ran out of fuel around Winnipeg but dead sticked it into the old WW2 training airfield at Gimli, Manitoba. This episode was known thereafter as The Gimli Glider".
"I wonder if you were thinking of an Air Canada 767 out of Montreal? When it was refuelled there was an error in thinking lbs versus kg or vice versa.They ran out of fuel around Winnipeg but dead sticked it into the old WW2 training airfield at Gimli, Manitoba. This episode was known thereafter as The Gimli Glider".
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For the sake of Auld Lang Syne.
Taphappy,
And yours reek e'en langer ! (there must be an exact Scottish equivalent, but as an ethnic Irishman [one of the Scots who could swim]), that's the best I can do...D. ('ware incoming !)
Geriaviator,
Yes, it was Gimli. Didn't the 767 end up on its nose (à la 491), but they and the pax were all right ? And weren't the glider people (but fortunately no gliders) on the runway, and had to abandon their picnics and make a run for it !....D.
Smudgsmith,
I refer to your #4000 p.200:
"Well done Danny, I expect you will be posting 5000 too. I certainly hope to be reading your 5000. Keep going, only a thousand to go".
How time flies ! But a bit of mental arithmetic: we reached 4000 Posts in 4 years: we've knocked off the last 1,000 in six months. Now this acceleration is entirely due to the policy of our Moderators, who've let us wander off in all directions for as long as we like, only providing we wander back. So let's hear it for them, chaps: "For they're all Jolly Good Fe-ellows...and so say all of us !"
"Gratitude", said La Rochfoucald, "is the lively expectation of favours to come" (perish the thought)....D.
It's been said before - but: "Happy New Year", folks,
Danny.
And yours reek e'en langer ! (there must be an exact Scottish equivalent, but as an ethnic Irishman [one of the Scots who could swim]), that's the best I can do...D. ('ware incoming !)
Geriaviator,
Yes, it was Gimli. Didn't the 767 end up on its nose (à la 491), but they and the pax were all right ? And weren't the glider people (but fortunately no gliders) on the runway, and had to abandon their picnics and make a run for it !....D.
Smudgsmith,
I refer to your #4000 p.200:
"Well done Danny, I expect you will be posting 5000 too. I certainly hope to be reading your 5000. Keep going, only a thousand to go".
How time flies ! But a bit of mental arithmetic: we reached 4000 Posts in 4 years: we've knocked off the last 1,000 in six months. Now this acceleration is entirely due to the policy of our Moderators, who've let us wander off in all directions for as long as we like, only providing we wander back. So let's hear it for them, chaps: "For they're all Jolly Good Fe-ellows...and so say all of us !"
"Gratitude", said La Rochfoucald, "is the lively expectation of favours to come" (perish the thought)....D.
It's been said before - but: "Happy New Year", folks,
Danny.
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A very special "Happy New Year" to Danny42C, and another one to the rest of you (including the Mods, of course).
May your 2014 be marked by good health and good giggles for you and yours.
May your 2014 be marked by good health and good giggles for you and yours.
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Danny and Family visisting
One bright weekend morning, we packed into the car and set out for the Möhnesee. This was almost a pilgrimage for every RAF family in RAF(G). It was around 100 miles from the Clutch stations, a gentle two-hour drive across the country in full summer bloom.
Apart from the historical aspect, it was a popular picnic spot for the locals: they had turned out in full force. The lake looked about half full; around the lakeside the place rang with the happy laughter of children, the sun blazed down, the snack stalls on the river banks were doing roaring trade.
From the riverside below the Dam I looked across its face. The colour change in the concrete clearly marked the repaired centre section; even more impressive was the huge gouge carved out of the river bed by the force of water that May night eighteen years before when the Dam had been breached by Gibson and his merry men.
On the top of the dam, we looked out up the lake along the line of the bombing run. In the bright sunlight it was not easy to visualise the scene that night, the brimming lake shining under the full moon, the skies full of the roar of the Lancasters as they thundered round the valley before turning in and going down to fifty feet above the water for the one attempt that each aircraft could make.
We strolled across to the mid-point of the Dam, the exact aiming-point. Looking up at the two flanking towers, you could see what perfect gun platforms they must have made for the defending flak gunners to draw an almost head on bead on the Lancasters as they came in S&L towards them. With this in mind, dubbleyew eight's Post #4107 p.206 is of enormous relevance. If the old Ukranian's story was true, it may well have minimised 617's losses, which were bad enough in all conscience (8 of 17 Lancasters and 53 dead from 119 of the finest bomber crews in Britain ).
The question of the efficacy of the raid has been hotly debated ever since; a whole host of revisionist historians having concluded that it was simply another case of "C'ést magnifique, mais ce n'ést pas la guerre". I'm in no way qualified to express an opinion on this, but may still offer one. We were told that you need a ton of water to make a ton of steel, and that Krupp and the other steelmakers of the Ruhr were dependent on the Möhne water for this.
I can find little information on the actual effect on German steel production from this cause alone, most commentators giving more weight to the loss of hydro-electric power and the diversion of construction plant and labour from other urgent tasks as being the main fruits of the operation. But the loss of this water must have been very serious for the German war economy.
And from the point of view of the ordinary Briton, this spectacular raid was an enormous morale-booster, coming as it did together with the good news of final victory in North Africa. The previous November, Churchill had said of that campaign: "It is, perhaps, the end of the beginning". Victory in Europe would be two years ahead yet, but we were "on our way". The British bulldog had his tail well up (I know that's not a good metaphor, but never mind).
The excited cries of the children playing were growing fainter as the afternoon wore on, and it would soon be Mary's bedtime. We drove gently back home to GK in the warm evening sunshine: it had been a memorable day's outing.
(This may interest any who have just finished watching the "Dambusters" tonight - Chan.5).
Goodnight, everyone,
Danny42C..
We shall remember them.
Apart from the historical aspect, it was a popular picnic spot for the locals: they had turned out in full force. The lake looked about half full; around the lakeside the place rang with the happy laughter of children, the sun blazed down, the snack stalls on the river banks were doing roaring trade.
From the riverside below the Dam I looked across its face. The colour change in the concrete clearly marked the repaired centre section; even more impressive was the huge gouge carved out of the river bed by the force of water that May night eighteen years before when the Dam had been breached by Gibson and his merry men.
On the top of the dam, we looked out up the lake along the line of the bombing run. In the bright sunlight it was not easy to visualise the scene that night, the brimming lake shining under the full moon, the skies full of the roar of the Lancasters as they thundered round the valley before turning in and going down to fifty feet above the water for the one attempt that each aircraft could make.
We strolled across to the mid-point of the Dam, the exact aiming-point. Looking up at the two flanking towers, you could see what perfect gun platforms they must have made for the defending flak gunners to draw an almost head on bead on the Lancasters as they came in S&L towards them. With this in mind, dubbleyew eight's Post #4107 p.206 is of enormous relevance. If the old Ukranian's story was true, it may well have minimised 617's losses, which were bad enough in all conscience (8 of 17 Lancasters and 53 dead from 119 of the finest bomber crews in Britain ).
The question of the efficacy of the raid has been hotly debated ever since; a whole host of revisionist historians having concluded that it was simply another case of "C'ést magnifique, mais ce n'ést pas la guerre". I'm in no way qualified to express an opinion on this, but may still offer one. We were told that you need a ton of water to make a ton of steel, and that Krupp and the other steelmakers of the Ruhr were dependent on the Möhne water for this.
I can find little information on the actual effect on German steel production from this cause alone, most commentators giving more weight to the loss of hydro-electric power and the diversion of construction plant and labour from other urgent tasks as being the main fruits of the operation. But the loss of this water must have been very serious for the German war economy.
And from the point of view of the ordinary Briton, this spectacular raid was an enormous morale-booster, coming as it did together with the good news of final victory in North Africa. The previous November, Churchill had said of that campaign: "It is, perhaps, the end of the beginning". Victory in Europe would be two years ahead yet, but we were "on our way". The British bulldog had his tail well up (I know that's not a good metaphor, but never mind).
The excited cries of the children playing were growing fainter as the afternoon wore on, and it would soon be Mary's bedtime. We drove gently back home to GK in the warm evening sunshine: it had been a memorable day's outing.
(This may interest any who have just finished watching the "Dambusters" tonight - Chan.5).
Goodnight, everyone,
Danny42C..
We shall remember them.
When Mickey Martin took over 38 Group in 1968 he had only been running it for a few days when Chunky Lord and I deposited a Whirwind helicopter, XR 478, quite violently on the ground outside 38 Grp HQ as he was arriving for work He was then the first to greet us as we waded out of the wreckage.
As a VIP pilot I flew him quite often and later when I was on Pumas I had the opportunity again when he was CinC Germany. The area was around the dams so I picked one, flew around a hill and settled flying across the water towards the towers at 145knots and 50 ft., precisely. (Radalts. makes it easy)
"Does that look familiar, Sir?" quoth I.
He turned to me with a grin. "Not really. Wrong bloody dam."
As a VIP pilot I flew him quite often and later when I was on Pumas I had the opportunity again when he was CinC Germany. The area was around the dams so I picked one, flew around a hill and settled flying across the water towards the towers at 145knots and 50 ft., precisely. (Radalts. makes it easy)
"Does that look familiar, Sir?" quoth I.
He turned to me with a grin. "Not really. Wrong bloody dam."
Danny42
It was indeed. I took this photo of the dam in 1973, but struggled then as now when I examine the photo to see where repairs to the face had been made, although to be fair the photo was taken thirty-years after repair and assume the brick facing has weathered over the years.
we packed into the car and set out for the Möhnesee. This was almost a pilgrimage for every RAF family in RAF(G).
Atlantic battles take their grim toll
When the first fatalities occurred near Castle Archdale the congregation at Irvinestown Church, four miles away, gave the front quarter of their cemetery to be a plot for fallen Servicemen. In less than two years the plot was filled with aircrew graves, so a similarly sized plot was established at the rear. By war's end this, too, was filled with casualties from the Battle of the Atlantic. Most of these are Commonwealth airmen, UK citizens being taken home to their families.
THERE IS good reason for Ireland being green, and that’s the rainfall. It streams from our grey Atlantic skies, and the clouds shroud the granite Donegal mountains for days on end. This is why the weather took terrible toll of Coastal Command aircrew trying to find their bases after many hours patrolling the Western Approaches. The headstones above bear sad witness.
Nowadays the pocket GPS gives the walker’s position to within a few yards. But 70 years ago radio navigation was of limited use, the radio beacons were low powered with very limited range, and bearings could easily be 20 degrees out, especially at night. Radio waves can be bent as they pass along a coastline, so a bearing may be off by 10 degrees or even more.
The Germans’ long-range Kuriers used an excellent system called Sonne, with one transmitter in Norway, one at Bordeaux and another in Spain. The Kurier could place himself in the triangle formed by these widely spaced beams, obtaining an accurate position to pass to the U-boat packs. The Allies adopted the system after the capture of U-505 in 1944; renamed Consol, it became invaluable for Coastal Command. After the war one of the transmitters was moved to Bushmills in Northern Ireland, where it became Bushmills Consol and was used by transatlantic flights until the 1980s.
In the early years, Allied crews had to rely on dead reckoning, in which the aircraft position is plotted by airspeed, course, and time, backed up by ground features, sun and star sights. But none of these is possible when you’re far out to sea with 20,000ft of cloud above you. During your 10-hour patrol the wind has drifted you in various directions, you may be many miles from your expected landfall, and behind the mist-shrouded coastline the mountains are waiting.
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Originally Posted by Danny
It now fitted perfectly, but to my surprise they handed over the tiny scrap of removed gold, carefully wrapped in tissue paper.
"Vielen Dank", I said, "but this is no use to me - it may be to you - keep it". They were genuinely horrified. "One day", they said, "this may be the price of a meal for you - you must take it." We keep it still.
"Vielen Dank", I said, "but this is no use to me - it may be to you - keep it". They were genuinely horrified. "One day", they said, "this may be the price of a meal for you - you must take it." We keep it still.
Originally Posted by Danny
In this way German civilians couldn't clear the NAAFI of our duty-free cigarettes, then make huge future profits (by stacking up with small valuable goods like Zeiss binoculars and Leica cameras for future resale), as cigarettes were then the sole currency in a ruined Germany (the Reichmark being almost valueless).
Wikki echoes the default conclusion (as with Main Force) that this was much ado about little that did not justify the cost to the RAF:-
Operation Chastise - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Given that the RAF itself has doubts about both that is hardly surprising. The thing I find surprising is that the Germans were allowed to effect repairs unhindered. As Wikki says, a high level follow up raid at the height of the repairs would have sustained the effects of the raid for far longer (anyway, agriculture took until the 50's to recover).
Like Warmtoast I visited the dam, though in the early 60's. I couldn't really make out the repaired section clearly even then. I'm sure if it had been our dam we wouldn't have replicated all the fancy cantilevered archwork at the top (for carrying the roadway?), but reverted to RSJ's etc. Vorsprung durch Technik, no doubt.
I watched the film on TV the other night. Despite all the 'issues' about it disclosed in this Forum, I enjoyed it yet again.
Another portrayal of course was this one:-
Operation Chastise - Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia
Given that the RAF itself has doubts about both that is hardly surprising. The thing I find surprising is that the Germans were allowed to effect repairs unhindered. As Wikki says, a high level follow up raid at the height of the repairs would have sustained the effects of the raid for far longer (anyway, agriculture took until the 50's to recover).
Like Warmtoast I visited the dam, though in the early 60's. I couldn't really make out the repaired section clearly even then. I'm sure if it had been our dam we wouldn't have replicated all the fancy cantilevered archwork at the top (for carrying the roadway?), but reverted to RSJ's etc. Vorsprung durch Technik, no doubt.
I watched the film on TV the other night. Despite all the 'issues' about it disclosed in this Forum, I enjoyed it yet again.
Another portrayal of course was this one:-
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Flying, shining, and wet sports.
Firstly, may I take this opportunity to extend my very best wishes to you all for the New Year.
Although I have never seen the Mohne, Eder or Sorpe dams (pictures excepted) I clearly remember on one flight, looking through the Dakota windshield at the passing water a few feet below followed by the ramparts of the Derwent dam. A very moving part of the flight which heavily renewed my respect for those who had gone to the Ruhr in May 1943, at night, low level, fired upon, and successfully completed their mission, albeit at horrific cost. (I accept that not all the dams were breeched, but I also accept the mission was successful).
Halton (contd)
As we sit around our crewroom, bloated and content, I must hang my head low. I incorrectly stated that the engine in the Me 262 was of BMW manufacture. I am pleased to see my error was quickly spotted. Never, throughout my life has it been my intention to be inaccurate. Unfortunately, as previously mentioned, the memory bank seems to be suffering some corrosion to its walls, allowing good gen to sift out, only to be replaced by duff gen, which being lighter, sits on top, and is recovered first. I will take this lesson on board and attempt to verify my facts in future.
While enjoying the warm days of summer at Halton, one of our compatriots mentioned his chosen weekend pastime, namely gliding. My curiosity was aroused. After a few minutes, I had learned that the RAF even had its own gliding branch, the RAFGSA, and the nearest base was at RAF Bicester. And the RAF even supplied the transport, and if I remember correctly, the lunch-packs. What was more, it was FREE. Well, I had to have a go at this. The following Saturday, camlobe and another half dozen young and steely-eyed airmen climbed on the Bedford bus and went to have some fun. Upon our arrival, we were made to feel very welcome, and immediately put to work. Laying out the tow cable, extracting the various gliders out of the hangar, cleaning windscreens, and a multitude of other tasks. Although a couple of the lads were less than enthralled, I was fully immersed and enjoying myself, soaking up all information and advice, and happy to be of some small assistance. As the day went on, I started to "get the picture" regarding the ground ops. The various hand signals initially looked like a pseudo-signer at Nelson Mandela's memorial service, but soon made sense, as did the procedure for a launch. "All clear above and behind" followed by the cable slack been taken up, then run with the wingtip for a few paces until the aircraft had left wingman and indeed ground behind. The climb angle looked incredibly steep on the winch launch, but it was a very effective way to get to 500 feet in less than half a mile. (Although the Bicester winch could only get aircraft up to around 500 feet, I believe some modern winches can get aircraft up to over 2000 nowadays. Smudge, can you enlighten us?). Towards the end of the day, our efforts are rewarded with a flight in the 'Barge', or Slingsby T21 Sedburgh. This rather basic, open cockpit machine was constructed in the fashion of the very earliest aircraft, powered or otherwise. There was a wooden structure, glued together, and covered by Cotton fabric. Dope was applied to shrink the cotton tightly onto the wooden structure. Paint then being applied to protect the fabric from the ravages of ultra-violet rays. These same materials, techniques and results that were familiar to many tens of thousands of young boys in their bedrooms, making their early model gliders. And I was about to climb in to a full-size example. I was terrified that my foot/elbow would make a hole through the fabric somewhere, so sat knees together and elbows tight to my side, just precautionary, of course. The wing tips were held up while the tow line slack was taken up, and then...OH, MY GOD. I was immediately overwhelmed by fright and elation at the same time. Certain that I was about to die as we were going up far too steeply, and therefore must be about to crash, coupled with that fantastic pit-of-the-stomach feeling that all young men cherish, acceleration. Although not a macho admission, I am sure I screamed in despair and delight...all the way up. The ever so patient chap flying smiled, as I'm sure he did every weekend. After dipping the nose to release the cable, we gently eased our way around the circuit, no lift coming our way. The small screens in front of each seat did little in the way of deflecting wind blast, my streaming eyes bore proof of this. But they seemed very efficient at deflecting bugs. All too soon, we are on finals, and it suddenly occurs to me, if my left-hand-seater judges it wrong, we can't have another go. But of course, he got it right, as did every other pilot I saw that day, and every other day I went to fly for free at RAF Bicester. A number of years ago, I was told that the chap who was running RAF Bicester gliding club at the time later perished in a gilder, but I am not certain about the details. I'm sure one of my fellow tea drinkers here will probably know the full story.
During our hands-on part of getting to know the Rolls Royce Dart, I spilled some oil onto one of my shoes without noticing. A few minutes later, I bend down to pick up my spanner and am taken aback by the extremely shinny toecap. The technical instructors weren't too concerned about the mirror finish of our footwear, but the Discip staff most certainly were, and we were inspected on the parade ground every morning after breakfast prior to marching down the hill. Camlobe has a cunning plan. After the morning NAAFI break, an empty small milk carton is retained and rinsed out. A small amount of this new wonder shine fluid is decanted into said milk container. The following morning, everyone is on parade. Camlobe breaks ranks (one step rear wards), crouches down to the pile of books and the milk container, takes a finger wipe of the wonder fluid and applies it to the toecaps. Stand up, rejoin the ranks, and wait nervously while Discip Corporals and Sergeants inspect the ranks. The Corporal, who is far nastier than the Sergeant, is reviewing our rank. Oh, no. I shouldn't have been so foolish. Who do I think I am kidding. These people have seen every trick in the book. I am a bloody fool. I should have...he walks past me, and doesn't turn around. I am stupidly elated. A small victory, but it feels massively out of proportion. I even have a smirk on my face. Oh, no, he is coming back. He has never done that before. I am lost. He comes right up to...my friend Shane Hubbard stood right beside me. I am a wreck. I want to be sick. And he goes away again. Shane knew what deceit I was attempting, and as we march off down the hill, we both chuckle under our breath, both knowing how close I was to the brink of disaster. But fools never learn, and my 'wonder fluid" came out every morning for the duration of our time at Halton. But, this little 'time and effort saver' idea of mine almost cost me dear, but more of that later. Without doubt, I saved many man hours polishing, being able to concentrate on other important issues, such as working out who was buying the first round. The only drawback was, leather doesn't appreciate synthetic jet engine oil, in this case, OX38, and the shoes disintegrated soon after leaving Halton.
I had been an active swimmer from an extremely young age, and proficient enough to be Life Guard qualified well before my 13th birthday. The pool at Halton was old but well cared for and clean and I spent a lot of time keeping myself fit with swimming and cross country (thar be hills here, unlike Swinderby). The chap who was the pool caretaker suggested I consider water polo. Never having played, I decided to give it a go. Without a doubt, water polo was the most physically demanding activity I have ever attempted. But, it was also one of the most vicious. I played water polo for RAF Halton a few times, but the scratch injuries and sore eyes put me off for fear of my eyesight.
Camlobe
Splish, splash, I was taken' a bath.
Although I have never seen the Mohne, Eder or Sorpe dams (pictures excepted) I clearly remember on one flight, looking through the Dakota windshield at the passing water a few feet below followed by the ramparts of the Derwent dam. A very moving part of the flight which heavily renewed my respect for those who had gone to the Ruhr in May 1943, at night, low level, fired upon, and successfully completed their mission, albeit at horrific cost. (I accept that not all the dams were breeched, but I also accept the mission was successful).
Halton (contd)
As we sit around our crewroom, bloated and content, I must hang my head low. I incorrectly stated that the engine in the Me 262 was of BMW manufacture. I am pleased to see my error was quickly spotted. Never, throughout my life has it been my intention to be inaccurate. Unfortunately, as previously mentioned, the memory bank seems to be suffering some corrosion to its walls, allowing good gen to sift out, only to be replaced by duff gen, which being lighter, sits on top, and is recovered first. I will take this lesson on board and attempt to verify my facts in future.
While enjoying the warm days of summer at Halton, one of our compatriots mentioned his chosen weekend pastime, namely gliding. My curiosity was aroused. After a few minutes, I had learned that the RAF even had its own gliding branch, the RAFGSA, and the nearest base was at RAF Bicester. And the RAF even supplied the transport, and if I remember correctly, the lunch-packs. What was more, it was FREE. Well, I had to have a go at this. The following Saturday, camlobe and another half dozen young and steely-eyed airmen climbed on the Bedford bus and went to have some fun. Upon our arrival, we were made to feel very welcome, and immediately put to work. Laying out the tow cable, extracting the various gliders out of the hangar, cleaning windscreens, and a multitude of other tasks. Although a couple of the lads were less than enthralled, I was fully immersed and enjoying myself, soaking up all information and advice, and happy to be of some small assistance. As the day went on, I started to "get the picture" regarding the ground ops. The various hand signals initially looked like a pseudo-signer at Nelson Mandela's memorial service, but soon made sense, as did the procedure for a launch. "All clear above and behind" followed by the cable slack been taken up, then run with the wingtip for a few paces until the aircraft had left wingman and indeed ground behind. The climb angle looked incredibly steep on the winch launch, but it was a very effective way to get to 500 feet in less than half a mile. (Although the Bicester winch could only get aircraft up to around 500 feet, I believe some modern winches can get aircraft up to over 2000 nowadays. Smudge, can you enlighten us?). Towards the end of the day, our efforts are rewarded with a flight in the 'Barge', or Slingsby T21 Sedburgh. This rather basic, open cockpit machine was constructed in the fashion of the very earliest aircraft, powered or otherwise. There was a wooden structure, glued together, and covered by Cotton fabric. Dope was applied to shrink the cotton tightly onto the wooden structure. Paint then being applied to protect the fabric from the ravages of ultra-violet rays. These same materials, techniques and results that were familiar to many tens of thousands of young boys in their bedrooms, making their early model gliders. And I was about to climb in to a full-size example. I was terrified that my foot/elbow would make a hole through the fabric somewhere, so sat knees together and elbows tight to my side, just precautionary, of course. The wing tips were held up while the tow line slack was taken up, and then...OH, MY GOD. I was immediately overwhelmed by fright and elation at the same time. Certain that I was about to die as we were going up far too steeply, and therefore must be about to crash, coupled with that fantastic pit-of-the-stomach feeling that all young men cherish, acceleration. Although not a macho admission, I am sure I screamed in despair and delight...all the way up. The ever so patient chap flying smiled, as I'm sure he did every weekend. After dipping the nose to release the cable, we gently eased our way around the circuit, no lift coming our way. The small screens in front of each seat did little in the way of deflecting wind blast, my streaming eyes bore proof of this. But they seemed very efficient at deflecting bugs. All too soon, we are on finals, and it suddenly occurs to me, if my left-hand-seater judges it wrong, we can't have another go. But of course, he got it right, as did every other pilot I saw that day, and every other day I went to fly for free at RAF Bicester. A number of years ago, I was told that the chap who was running RAF Bicester gliding club at the time later perished in a gilder, but I am not certain about the details. I'm sure one of my fellow tea drinkers here will probably know the full story.
During our hands-on part of getting to know the Rolls Royce Dart, I spilled some oil onto one of my shoes without noticing. A few minutes later, I bend down to pick up my spanner and am taken aback by the extremely shinny toecap. The technical instructors weren't too concerned about the mirror finish of our footwear, but the Discip staff most certainly were, and we were inspected on the parade ground every morning after breakfast prior to marching down the hill. Camlobe has a cunning plan. After the morning NAAFI break, an empty small milk carton is retained and rinsed out. A small amount of this new wonder shine fluid is decanted into said milk container. The following morning, everyone is on parade. Camlobe breaks ranks (one step rear wards), crouches down to the pile of books and the milk container, takes a finger wipe of the wonder fluid and applies it to the toecaps. Stand up, rejoin the ranks, and wait nervously while Discip Corporals and Sergeants inspect the ranks. The Corporal, who is far nastier than the Sergeant, is reviewing our rank. Oh, no. I shouldn't have been so foolish. Who do I think I am kidding. These people have seen every trick in the book. I am a bloody fool. I should have...he walks past me, and doesn't turn around. I am stupidly elated. A small victory, but it feels massively out of proportion. I even have a smirk on my face. Oh, no, he is coming back. He has never done that before. I am lost. He comes right up to...my friend Shane Hubbard stood right beside me. I am a wreck. I want to be sick. And he goes away again. Shane knew what deceit I was attempting, and as we march off down the hill, we both chuckle under our breath, both knowing how close I was to the brink of disaster. But fools never learn, and my 'wonder fluid" came out every morning for the duration of our time at Halton. But, this little 'time and effort saver' idea of mine almost cost me dear, but more of that later. Without doubt, I saved many man hours polishing, being able to concentrate on other important issues, such as working out who was buying the first round. The only drawback was, leather doesn't appreciate synthetic jet engine oil, in this case, OX38, and the shoes disintegrated soon after leaving Halton.
I had been an active swimmer from an extremely young age, and proficient enough to be Life Guard qualified well before my 13th birthday. The pool at Halton was old but well cared for and clean and I spent a lot of time keeping myself fit with swimming and cross country (thar be hills here, unlike Swinderby). The chap who was the pool caretaker suggested I consider water polo. Never having played, I decided to give it a go. Without a doubt, water polo was the most physically demanding activity I have ever attempted. But, it was also one of the most vicious. I played water polo for RAF Halton a few times, but the scratch injuries and sore eyes put me off for fear of my eyesight.
Camlobe
Splish, splash, I was taken' a bath.
Of Cables and Gliders
Camlobe,
As you say, winch launching of Gliders was restricted, though I suspect the 500' at Bicester might well have been a restriction of take off run length. In my day when flying at Bicester all launches were Aerotow, usually to 2000'. I suspect your CFI may well have been the late, great Andy Gough, who was well known throughout gliding circles. There was, as I remember, a legal requirement to release from the launch cable, when winch launching, at 1000', I believe this in concern for lower flying aircraft not being able to see the cable whilst passing below. There was a procedure called "Kiteing" however, where, on a nice day with a good headwind, and by prior arrangement with the winch operator, you stayed on the wire at 1000', he then allowed the cable drum to reel out slowly allowing the glider to continue to ascend, just like a kite. I only ever had one such launch, at Syerston, and released the cable at an indicated 2300'. At the time a winch launch was 70p a time. An Aerotow to 2000' would have cost around £7.50 I believe. I did have to buy the winchman a beer or two later.
Hope that helps.
Smudge
As you say, winch launching of Gliders was restricted, though I suspect the 500' at Bicester might well have been a restriction of take off run length. In my day when flying at Bicester all launches were Aerotow, usually to 2000'. I suspect your CFI may well have been the late, great Andy Gough, who was well known throughout gliding circles. There was, as I remember, a legal requirement to release from the launch cable, when winch launching, at 1000', I believe this in concern for lower flying aircraft not being able to see the cable whilst passing below. There was a procedure called "Kiteing" however, where, on a nice day with a good headwind, and by prior arrangement with the winch operator, you stayed on the wire at 1000', he then allowed the cable drum to reel out slowly allowing the glider to continue to ascend, just like a kite. I only ever had one such launch, at Syerston, and released the cable at an indicated 2300'. At the time a winch launch was 70p a time. An Aerotow to 2000' would have cost around £7.50 I believe. I did have to buy the winchman a beer or two later.
Hope that helps.
Smudge
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patrolling the seas round the convoy like an alert sheepdog guarding his flock, Aldis flickering as he exchanged signals with the Naval escort.
My Dad was a Visual Signaller (Bunting Tosser) in HMS Forester, with Canadian Close Escort Group C1 based in Londonderry. Now Dad was a hardened "regular" matelot, not an HO "Hostilities Only" rating and he managed the impressive pitching and rolling of a small ship in the North Atlantic completely impassively. A cold fried egg sliding about his plate in an Atlantic gale was no problem and he'd eat the HO's rations too when they turned green.
Apparently the aircrews found the naval signallers' lamp aiming a bit too slack as they were more accustomed to flashing at larger targets. Someone in Liverpool decided that signallers should be sent off to fly with an aircraft and see for themselves the problem from the aircrew POV. So, next time into Londonderry, while the rest of the crew enjoyed a spot of shore leave, Dad and the other three Bunting Tossers were sent off to do a spot of flying. He clambered aboard the alloted Catalina and settled himself against a bulkhead. As the aircraft taxied out and performed the take-off roll it was just like being afloat. No problem. As soon as they became airborne it was another story - he was violently sick and lay groaning on the floor for the whole trip. And Catalina sorties were very long affairs indeed.
A good documentary here about Operation Chastise:-
Any Operation needs a certain amount of luck, ie a lucky hit on the Bismark's rudder etc. Chastise seems to have lacked that necessary ingredient. It took 5 mines to breach the Mohne Dam, another 3 for the Eder. The Sorpe was not breached, and it was known to be the most difficult of the three being of earth rather than masonry construction. It was also the most difficult to attack, as Wallis required the crews to release the weapon by flying along the dam rather than approaching from the lake. In the event, thickening fog over the dam made for a far greater defence than the Wehrmacht ever could, and aircraft had to divert to secondary targets rather than persevere with the Sorpe.
The Sorpe was the Achilles heel of Chastise. If it had been breached then Ruhr production would have been severely affected. As it was it got by, and thanks to a swift and effective response it was soon back to status quo with the repaired Mohne Dam.
None of that means that Chastise should not have happened, but it seems to bring out the same gainsayers as have an agenda with the Strategic Bombing Campaign itself. Terror attacks, poor use of resources, unacceptable loss rates, etc etc. What they can't say is what the situation would have been if the RAF had not gone out night after night bombing German cities. Unhindered, Hitler had enough cards up his sleeve to have made the outcome uncertain to say the least if he had been allowed to play them. As it was he was within months of some and actually launched many V1s and V2s anyway.
I am not surprised that the Army (which still doesn't understand Air Power) and the Navy (which does but only in a Naval scenario) had issues with the CBO, but when the RAF itself has an ambivalent stance to its own Bomber Command campaign, that I cannot understand.
You don't win wars by staying on the defensive, yet Bomber Command was the only one that consistently took the offensive from start to finish of the war. Chastise was merely one example of that, and one which the Royal Air Force should be justly proud of.
Any Operation needs a certain amount of luck, ie a lucky hit on the Bismark's rudder etc. Chastise seems to have lacked that necessary ingredient. It took 5 mines to breach the Mohne Dam, another 3 for the Eder. The Sorpe was not breached, and it was known to be the most difficult of the three being of earth rather than masonry construction. It was also the most difficult to attack, as Wallis required the crews to release the weapon by flying along the dam rather than approaching from the lake. In the event, thickening fog over the dam made for a far greater defence than the Wehrmacht ever could, and aircraft had to divert to secondary targets rather than persevere with the Sorpe.
The Sorpe was the Achilles heel of Chastise. If it had been breached then Ruhr production would have been severely affected. As it was it got by, and thanks to a swift and effective response it was soon back to status quo with the repaired Mohne Dam.
None of that means that Chastise should not have happened, but it seems to bring out the same gainsayers as have an agenda with the Strategic Bombing Campaign itself. Terror attacks, poor use of resources, unacceptable loss rates, etc etc. What they can't say is what the situation would have been if the RAF had not gone out night after night bombing German cities. Unhindered, Hitler had enough cards up his sleeve to have made the outcome uncertain to say the least if he had been allowed to play them. As it was he was within months of some and actually launched many V1s and V2s anyway.
I am not surprised that the Army (which still doesn't understand Air Power) and the Navy (which does but only in a Naval scenario) had issues with the CBO, but when the RAF itself has an ambivalent stance to its own Bomber Command campaign, that I cannot understand.
You don't win wars by staying on the defensive, yet Bomber Command was the only one that consistently took the offensive from start to finish of the war. Chastise was merely one example of that, and one which the Royal Air Force should be justly proud of.
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Well said, Chugalug2.
In these days of precision bombing from a great height, its sobering to remember that the RAF did what it could at great loss. It was all we had back then to hit back, however effectively or otherwise. And the crews that did it knew they were on a hiding to nothing, and kept on doing it anyway.
Better to something offensive than do bu66er all.
In these days of precision bombing from a great height, its sobering to remember that the RAF did what it could at great loss. It was all we had back then to hit back, however effectively or otherwise. And the crews that did it knew they were on a hiding to nothing, and kept on doing it anyway.
Better to something offensive than do bu66er all.
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The business of Air Power is bombing enemy assets - manufacturing, transportation and troop/armour concentrations - and thus reducing their ability to fight. It's all about bombers and moving the mud. Air supremacy helps those fighting on the ground or sea by keeping them free of enemy air attack, but its main purpose is to enable one's own bombers to go about their business unhindered. Some folk have ethical objections to bombing, but warfare isn't ethical. It's all about winning.
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Smujsmith,
The name of "Andy Gough" rings a bell. Wasn't it Sgt Gough, and was he ever at GK ? (may be off beam).
I never did any aerotows myself. IIRC, GK didn't have a tug of its own, but borrowed an Auster-sized thing (Heinkel ?) with pilot from a GAF unit somewhere. Although the rule used to be that tug-plus-glider had to have a minimum of 30 tows between them (ie a 5-tow glider pilot must have a 25-tow tug pilot or vice versa), something went wrong. I didn't see it myself, but it seems the glider went way too high, pulling the tail of the tug up and putting the aircraft into the ground. The GAF NCO pilot survived, but was very badly injured. It put rather a pall on the proceedings....D.
Blacksheep,
You never can tell when the dreaded mal d'avion may strike. I threw up once in (or, fortunately, over the side of, a Stearman) after stuffing myself with sweeties. And, one warm afternoon after a good lunch in Valley, I'd been doing repeated mock ground attacks on a gun position somewhere round Barmouth. This involved screwing the Spit around quite a bit to avoid wiping myself off on the nearby hills. When I started to turn green, I gave up before worse happened !....D.
Chugalug,
Thanks for the video - I'm going to enjoy this (and Wiki gives a fair account of "Operation Chastise", too) I agree wholeheartedly with your sentiments. There have been far too many of these nay-sayers and nit-pickers in these last few decades. With hindsight it is all too easy to dispute the wisdom of any particular policy or operation of war - when you know what happened (or didn't happen) afterwards in consequence.
There was no "silver bullet" that brought down the Third Reich (unlike the Hiroshima bomb, which arguably vindicated Harris's prediction: "People say that aerial bombing alone cannot win a war. I would say that it has not been tried yet, and we shall see").
Instead it finally succumbed to a multitude of blows, some heavy and some light, which cumulatively overwhelmed it. Everything is worth a try in war - for who knows, it may work !
I'm still sure I could see a shade change in the dam concrete when we saw it in bright sunlight in '61 (perhaps it was raining when you saw it, or in dull weather). Trick of the light, possibly ? Cheers,.... D.
Goodnight, all. Danny.
The name of "Andy Gough" rings a bell. Wasn't it Sgt Gough, and was he ever at GK ? (may be off beam).
I never did any aerotows myself. IIRC, GK didn't have a tug of its own, but borrowed an Auster-sized thing (Heinkel ?) with pilot from a GAF unit somewhere. Although the rule used to be that tug-plus-glider had to have a minimum of 30 tows between them (ie a 5-tow glider pilot must have a 25-tow tug pilot or vice versa), something went wrong. I didn't see it myself, but it seems the glider went way too high, pulling the tail of the tug up and putting the aircraft into the ground. The GAF NCO pilot survived, but was very badly injured. It put rather a pall on the proceedings....D.
Blacksheep,
You never can tell when the dreaded mal d'avion may strike. I threw up once in (or, fortunately, over the side of, a Stearman) after stuffing myself with sweeties. And, one warm afternoon after a good lunch in Valley, I'd been doing repeated mock ground attacks on a gun position somewhere round Barmouth. This involved screwing the Spit around quite a bit to avoid wiping myself off on the nearby hills. When I started to turn green, I gave up before worse happened !....D.
Chugalug,
Thanks for the video - I'm going to enjoy this (and Wiki gives a fair account of "Operation Chastise", too) I agree wholeheartedly with your sentiments. There have been far too many of these nay-sayers and nit-pickers in these last few decades. With hindsight it is all too easy to dispute the wisdom of any particular policy or operation of war - when you know what happened (or didn't happen) afterwards in consequence.
There was no "silver bullet" that brought down the Third Reich (unlike the Hiroshima bomb, which arguably vindicated Harris's prediction: "People say that aerial bombing alone cannot win a war. I would say that it has not been tried yet, and we shall see").
Instead it finally succumbed to a multitude of blows, some heavy and some light, which cumulatively overwhelmed it. Everything is worth a try in war - for who knows, it may work !
I'm still sure I could see a shade change in the dam concrete when we saw it in bright sunlight in '61 (perhaps it was raining when you saw it, or in dull weather). Trick of the light, possibly ? Cheers,.... D.
Goodnight, all. Danny.