JET LAG! (30 page)

Sir Peter Andrews threw in his four-pennyworth:

‘The Me 262s which are newly based in France and Holland made mincemeat of the formations making their way home. The jets ripped into the slow moving and cumbersome planes. Churchill has decreed that no more such raids are to be authorised for the foreseeable future.’

The shattered remnants of the bomber force were just now landing at their home airfields, many severely damaged and carrying wounded aircrews. The only consolation – and perhaps it was a lot more than that – was that it appeared that the production line for new Me 262s at Kretinga had been destroyed – or at least set back several months. Unless of course, there was another factory in Germany or elsewhere in the Reich.

The British would soon find out.

***

It was 6am and Todd was readying himself for the day’s Purple Force missions. As a result of the failure to destroy the bulk of the ‘Blaue-Tod’ it was necessary to locate them all over again.

Therefore, the remaining Recce Canberra and Tornado Recce jets were programmed to start their search of Northern France and Holland. The Canberra soared to fifty-thousand feet and started a precisely planned search pattern, which continued for five long hours.

The Tornado Recce set off into France at low level escorted by the two ADVs as protective cover.

All were airborne by 0700 hours.

The ECM Canberra and the three remaining bombers, equipped with missiles and guns – no bombs – joined them shortly after 7am and climbed to form a Combat Air Patrol over the English Channel and waited for any trade which may be setting off from France for East Anglia.

The executive committee were extremely concerned that the Germans might raid Middle Fleckney. In fact, the airfield defences had been considerably strengthened during the past fortnight. The arrests of two German spies had alerted the security services to the higher probabilities of an attack from the air.

Consequently, an inner ring of 40mm Bofors anti-aircraft guns were positioned five miles to the east of the airfield. At ten miles was a further ring of 20mm Oerlikons. In addition, anti-aircraft balloons were scattered liberally around the entire perimeter. On the airfield itself were several Vickers QF 3.7 inch AA guns. It was becoming a fortress and balloons had to be rapidly wound-in when Purple aircraft recovered to the airfield. Fortunately, the concept of IFF (Identification Friend or Foe) was well understood, so the likelihood of shooting down friendly aircraft was much reduced – though not impossible.

The VC10 and C-130, plus their ground and aircrews remained in the hangar, along with the ‘Tornado spare’ and could do nothing but hope and pray if a German air attack came.

And come it did.

***

Goering was ecstatic with the narrow escape afforded the Me 262s in Lithuania. The destruction of the production plant was unfortunate, but as luck would have it, a duplicate was already under construction in Frankfurt. It would be operational and constructing more 262s before the winter snows bit.

His next and immediate priority was to destroy the strange and unusual jet aircraft in England. He had ordered a three-pronged attack on Middle Fleckney. Firstly, Do-17s would soften it up with bombs from medium level, then Stukas would dive bomb the hangars and administrative buildings. Finally, the ‘Blaue-Tod’ would bomb and strafe from low-level to pick off any stragglers.

It would be a massive raid and Goering was confident of complete victory. If he could destroy this troublesome enemy in their own nest, then the battle for England would be won easily.

The attack was planned for 0800 British time, with the Me 262s running in for their attack at 0830, allowing the Stukas to escape to the east first.

However, like many events in wartime, providence played it's part.

At 0800, the base in Norfolk was deserted except for the three aircraft in the hangar.

And, as the German bombers swept over Lowestoft, the Tornados, Spitfires and Hurricanes were waiting for them.

The subsequent fighting was fierce, bloody and uncompromising.

***

As the German bombers took off from their airfields in France, there was no end of chatter from the pilots as they attempted to form up into squadrons or ‘geschwade’. They chatted brightly amongst themselves, all in high spirits at the likelihood of an easy sortie over the Wash, where fighters generally didn’t lie in wait for them. It was not geographically far south enough for the Channel defenders, and yet not far north enough for the forces defending the Humber and beyond.

However, they couldn’t have known that almost every word the Germans uttered was being monitored by the ECM Canberra, and as soon as they crossed the French coast, an horrendous barrage of white noise battered the eardrums of the Luftwaffe crews. They attempted to change frequencies, but within seconds the Canberra found them and jammed them again.

Consequently, the force of sixty Do-17s was so distracted that they had to turn down their radios. This meant that aircraft at the front of the formation had no warning from those being attacked at the rear.

And so it was – their fates were sealed.

The Tornados dived in at the back markers and took out as many as they could with guns and missiles. As they pulled up and away at very high speed, the Spits and Hurricanes were vectored in and they were able to pick off the stragglers at their leisure. There was no German fighter cover as the supposed ease of the mission precluded their use. It was also unusually early, so they had expected little resistance from the RAF.

Nevertheless, over thirty bombers made it through to Middle Fleckney by diverse and alternate routes and bombed the airfield, causing severe damage to the runway and admin buildings. It would have been much worse had not half the surviving Luftwaffe force not attacked RAF Marham by mistake, due to navigational error caused by the stress of combat.

Several Do-17s were shot down by anti-aircraft fire and many more were lost as they scampered back across the Channel, heading for home. Spitfires and Hurricanes had been scrambled by radar operators co-ordinating the defence.

The Stuka attack was more successful.

As Spitfires and Hurricanes recovered to their home bases, the dive bombers snuck in. A dozen got through to Middle Fleckney, avoiding the flak and were unseen by the Tornados, who were by now running desperately short of fuel. Even if they had intercepted the Stukas, they didn’t have sufficient gas to engage them.

The hangar at Middle Fleckney took a battering.

Stuka pilots scored direct hits on the eastern end, causing the roof to collapse inwards and catch fire. Although fire crews prevented the whole building from going up in flames, the VC10 tanker was gravely damaged.

It would certainly never fly again. In addition the Tornado acting as a ‘Hangar Queen’ was hit by debris and also severely damaged. The remains destined for Warton wouldn't amount to very much at all by 1992 standards – but by 1960s criteria it would still provide a much needed boost to British aircraft development.

The only piece of relatively good news was that the C-130 Hercules was parked at the western end of the building – nearly three hundred yards away, so it escaped unscathed except for a touch of smoke damage. However, parking the aircraft that were still airborne in the hangar was now going to be a challenge. An alternate landing strip and hangar space would need to be found – and quickly.

The Me 262s – the fighter/bomber variant – were just a few minutes behind the Stukas, and although the Tornados knew that they were there – they were helpless, and still frantically searching for a replacement landing ground.

However, the ECM Canberra had alerted the fighter controllers around the Thames Estuary to the threat, and a new wave of Spits sprang into the air. The jamming helped the British pilots, but it was an unequal contest. It was only the fact that twelve Spitfires challenged six Germans that prevented a massacre. The Brits took heavy damage but did enough to delay the German jets, thus preventing all but one getting through to Middle Fleckney. This was a solo Recce variant, which easily avoided the flak as it sped through the area at five hundred and fifty mph, took it's pictures and zoomed back across the Channel at ultra-low level to safety.

The photos it took back to Berlin were incredibly disappointing for the German High Command. They showed no aircraft destroyed on the ground, except for a huge unknown swept-wing aeroplane lying under the rubble in the damaged hangar.

The mission had been an abject failure.

Yes, the airfield was badly damaged, but within twenty-four hours craters would be filled in by repair teams and the runway made usable again. Luckily for Force 1992, the western end of the hangar remained usable and the remaining aircraft had been able to squeeze themselves in after landing.

In fact they had been lucky to get back to Middle Fleckney at all. The Canberras and the Tornados which had been out on early morning sorties had to land on the taxiway at Marham - a few miles to the north

of  Middle Fleckney. Having made approaches to their home base, it was clear that they couldn’t yet land on the pockmarked runway. Consequently, they diverted to Marham, which was also damaged, but it's taxiway wasn’t. The eight jets landed and immediately shut down, hoping that the dregs of fuel remaining would permit them to make the five minute hop home. All they could do was wait helplessly, until the runway at Middle Fleckney had been sufficiently repaired to allow them to land without incurring too much engine damage. So, they waited tensely at RAF Marham, praying that they wouldn't be caught out in the open by another pre-emptive German attack.

As luck would have it, they survived long enough to receive a phone call at 1930 hours which confirmed that it was safe to return. They took off immediately and were back in their battered old airship hangar by 2000.

When Todd reached his father’s office in the undamaged part of the giant hangar, he learned the cost in human terms of the German raid. Thirty-one of the 1992 team had been killed and eleven wounded – three seriously.

Todd was stunned.

The casualties were mounting unacceptably. For one thing, how would they explain these losses when and if they returned to 1992 on the eighth of September? He put this question to his father, who was guarded and attempted to avoid the issue.

‘I'm working on that, Todd. I think I may have a solution which will satisfy everybody in 1992. Please trust me on that one.’

Todd wasn’t at all satisfied.

‘This whole God-forsaken mission has been a cock-up from start to finish. If we ever do get back home – you’ll have to answer for your actions, father – your crimes, actually. You can be certain that I will make sure that you pay the price in full!’

He stormed out of the office and joined the ever decreasing group of airman from 1992. They were a forlorn lot. The fight had just gone out of them. Many had lost close friends in the raid and had had just about enough of this bloody war - which many now considered was none of their damned business.

Todd tried his best to calm and placate his men and women, but in truth, he totally agreed with them, and found it extremely hard not to fully sympathise with their anger and frustration.

Yet another series of funerals and a service of remembrance was held the next day, and as Todd looked round at their pale and drawn faces, he counted the human cost of this reckless expedition.

He had started with fifteen aircraft – and what did he have left?

One C-130 Hercules and five crew.

One ECM Canberra and three crew.

One Recce Canberra and two crew.

Two ADV Tornados and six crew.

One Recce Tornado and two crew.

Two IDS Tornados and six crew.

Eight aircraft remaining – nine if you included the badly damaged Tornado hangar queen. As for personnel, it was horrifying to count the losses.