Mosquito: Menacing the Reich: Combat Action in the Twin-engine Wooden Wonder of World War II (32 page)

This time I was to be a Wind-Finder for the attack and not part of the marking team. To be frank, I hated the job. The purpose of wind finding was to establish an accurate measure of the wind speed and direction, at attack height in the target area, which could be fed into the bomb sight mechanism of the Main Force bombers. One flew to a predetermined point close to the target, a marker was put down on the ground and using the Mosquito’s bombsight the navigator guided the pilot over the marker noting the precise time and air position. By repeating this operation 3 or 4 minutes later the navigator could make the required wind calculations. Three aircraft were used and by R/T the three navigators’ assessments could be broadcast, with one navigator determining a mean. This would be relayed to the ‘heavies’ that would be closing in on the target. My reason for detesting the work was that I simply hated having to crawl into the nose of the aircraft to crouch over and use the bombsight in such a confined space and to slide back hurriedly into the cockpit; all in full flying kit. With my height I just found it physically difficult. Fortunately I was assigned to wind finding on only two other occasions: a repeat attack on the Lützkendorf oil plant on 8 April and an operation against the railway yards at Cham in the Sudetenland on 17 April. As a marker, I flew against Würzburg, Hamburg, Molbis near Leipzig and Komotau in Czechoslovakia during March and April. Additionally, I flew on the Gardening operation in the River Elbe on 22 March. For me that operation was so unusual that I can still recall it clearly. The illuminating flares were hanging over the river as our attacking Mosquitoes skimmed over the water passing by a variety of ships at mast level before unloading our naval mines, then disappearing into the darkness homeward bound. The scene had an eerie unreal quality about it. In the bright but artificial light one was close enough to see the faces of individual sailors. Komotau marshalling yards on 18 April was my last operational foray before the European war ended and with the cessation of hostilities I expected to be able to hang up my navigators’ kit like the proverbial cowboys’ boots.
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The largest operation ever on Berlin occurred on the night of 21/22 March when 138 Mosquitoes attacked in two waves. Only one aircraft was lost. On 27/28 March three Mosquitoes of the Light Night-Striking Force were missing from a raid on Berlin.
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It was also the night that 627 Squadron lost its last Mosquito on operations when F-Freddie flown by Flying Officer William A. ‘Bill’ Barnett
RNZAF
and 20-year old Flight Sergeant Johnny Day
RAAF
from Murrumbeena, Victoria, was lost on the 5 Group minelaying operation in the River Elbe. They had just dropped two mines from a height of 100ft and at 120 mph when they found a flak ship waiting which set the port engine on fire. Over the air the big towering New Zealander announced in his broad dialect, ‘I lost an engine over the taaarget!’ Nothing more was heard from them. The fire in F For Freddie’s port engine went out and Barnett commenced to climb on course for home but at just over 600ft off Heligoland the starboard engine cut out. He set about for ditching the aircraft, as he recalls:

Fortunately it was full moon and I could see a moon path on the water, which I used as a landing path. This helped me to level off just above the water and raise the nose of the Mossie just before we hit. The tail of the aircraft struck first and we evidently bounced some 300-400 yards before hitting the water again. I was not aware of anything after feeling the tail section hit, until I regained consciousness in the cockpit, which was nose down about 60° to 70° and the water was up to my face. I must have swallowed some as I came to coughing and spluttering. I had trouble seeing until I realised that blood was in my eyes from what, I found later, were two large gashes in my forehead. My navigator had gone and the emergency hatch was out, so I started trying to get out but with parachute and dinghy attached it took some time. I eventually fell out only to sink with the weight of everything and I could not get my Mae West to inflate, but after several descents and surfacings I got the Mae West inflated. The next problem was removing the parachute and then to inflate the K-type dinghy. Eventually, after lots of panic, the dinghy inflated and I climbed in. The aircraft dinghy was not released due to the automatic release being disconnected some days previously and the manual control, by the time I tried to reach it, was 2ft under water and out of reach. Johnny had got out much earlier but had left his dinghy in the nose of the aircraft and he was sitting up on the trailing edge of the wing and engine nacelle when I managed to sort myself out. After some discussion I tried to support both of us on my dinghy but it was no use, so he got back onto the remains of the aircraft. He was feeling very cold but there was nothing we could do. At some time I must have lapsed into unconsciousness, as the next thing I knew it was daylight and I was in my dinghy, which was full of water and just buoyant, floating in a rough sea with nothing in sight.

The next days and nights passed without sight of anything, but the dinghy kept capsizing and filling with water. I opened my survival pack and wished that I had some water. The few biscuits in the pack were marvellous, even when soaked in salt water. I just drifted on, climbing back into the dinghy at frequent intervals, getting weaker each time and took to lying flat in the dinghy, but it filled with water too often and I swallowed some on a number of occasions; just as well, as I had no water. Then I awoke the fourth morning to find myself bouncing on a rock and close to a rock wall about 6 to 8ft high. I immediately tried to climb it but could not, so opened the survival pack and took a Benzadrine tablet. After this I felt a lot better so I had another go and, after considerable effort, reached the top of the wall, which was the level of the land. This turned out to be Hallig Hooge in the North Friesian Islands.
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One of the Berlin losses on 27/28 March was a Mosquito of 692 Squadron, which was lost without trace and the other two were involved in a collision. Flight Lieutenant Leicester G. Smith
RNZAF
and his RAF navigator Warrant Officer Bill Lane of 128 Squadron in Mosquito B.XVI MM202 V-Victor who were on their 44th op, were on the outward leg to Berlin over Holland at 25,200ft under a full moon when at about 20.00 hours they were involved in a collision with Mosquito RV326 of 571 Squadron. Smith recalls:

We were waiting for the arrival of the Yellow Route Markers, which was but a couple of minutes away when the collision occurred. There was a sudden jolt, the sensation of which was like being bounced off a trampoline. The aircraft started to go into a spin to the right with the nose well down and for a time out of control.

RV326 spun in, crashing in a cornfield near the village of Zevenhuizen, or Seven Houses, near Groningen. Flying Officer Gordon D. ‘Huddy‘ Hudson
AFC RNZAF
and his Canadian navigator Flying Officer Maurice G. Gant, who were on their 11th consecutive sortie to Berlin, were killed. They were later buried in a single coffin at the local cemetery of Leek.
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Smith’s starboard propeller had been torn away before it could be feathered and it cut a huge hole in the fuselage near the nose and splintered the cockpit windscreen. A small explosion followed and a fire broke out but Smith quickly extinguished it with the graviner and after falling to 16,000ft Smith was able to jettison his ‘Cookie’ and regain control. He nursed V-Victor back across the North Sea and put down safely at Woodbridge.

Throughout the attack on Berlin the searchlights were active across the city and a jet fighter was spotted in the area on the 128 Squadron bombing run. Flight Lieutenant Jim Dearlove and Sergeant Norman Jackson’s Mosquito was coned on the bomb run and it was attacked by an Me 262 of 10./NJG11 just after they had dropped their ‘Cookie’. He fired two short bursts of cannon fire, which missed the Mosquito and Dearlove was able to take evasive action and escape. Two other Mosquitoes, which failed to return were claimed shot down by Me 262 jet fighters.
Oberfeldwebel
Karl-Heinz Becker flew one of 10./NJG11’s three Me 262A-1as this night and claimed his sixth victory. At 21.38 hours and flying at 27,600ft Becker clearly saw the RAF aircraft and opened fire at 150 metres whilst pulling up the nose of his aircraft. He hit the Mosquito squarely. Pulling away to the left Becker observed large burning parts of the Mosquito falling and scattering the ground near Nauen.
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On the night of 3/4 April ninety-five Mosquitoes went to Berlin, eight to Plauen and five to Magdeburg. A Mosquito of 139 Squadron flown by Canadian Squadron Leader Roy Dow
DFC
and Flt Lt J.S. Endersby was shot down on the raid on Magdeburg by an Me 262 of 10/NJG 11 for the only loss of the night. Roy Dow was on his 90th op. On 13/14 April twenty-nine Mosquitoes were despatched to bomb Berlin. One of the 608 Squadron Mosquito XVIs at Downham Market that took part was piloted by Flight Lieutenant George Nunn, who had flown a first tour on Wellingtons, his first being the 1,000-bomber raid on Cologne in May 1942. His navigator, Pilot Officer Harry S.T. Harris
DFC
, had flown a tour on Lancasters. Take-off was at 23.09 hours as Harry Harris recounts:

It was a warm spring night and the aircraft was reluctant to leave the ground as, apart from a full load of fuel, it carried a ‘Cookie’. A minute later the aircraft staggered into the air and started the long, slow climb to 27,000ft As the roof of the crew compartment was perspex the view from both seats was very good. In addition there was a perspex blister on the side of the canopy next to the navigator. By putting his head in the blister he could see to the rear of the aircraft. The ability to see behind us was to play a vital part in just over two hours’ time. The route was via Clacton, which was reached at 23.34 hours. Our height was then 17,000ft. From there we crossed the sea to reach the enemy coast at Westkapelle at 23.54 hours. At 23.59 hours the heading was changed to fly directly to Berlin. At 00.07 cruising level at 27,000ft was reached and we settled down to another hour’s run to the target. It was black all around, although the stars shone brightly above. The navigational aid Gee was working well and fixes were obtained until 00.57. The route had taken us north of the Ruhr and then between Hanover and Magdeburg, avoiding the heavily defended areas of Germany. As we cruised at 310 mph we had no fear of enemy fighters as only jets could get at us and we thought they were few and far between. And they would not bother us when the heavy four-engined bombers were attacking other targets that night, including Magdeburg. We passed 10 miles north of it at 13.00 hours. Although we knew there were Mosquitoes all around us heading for Berlin we saw none. On a previous trip one had crossed only about 30ft above us, the flames from his exhausts terrifyingly close.

George and I were no strangers to flak or fighters but there was always some apprehension as the target was approached. Mine came mainly from the thought that I might have made an error in navigation and that at the appointed time there would be no sign of the TIs by the Pathfinder Force going down on the target. Tonight they would illuminate at 01.11, 01.12,

01.13 and 01.14 hours. Green coloured markers at 5,000ft, red at 7,000ft and yellow at 10,000ft. The lower the markers the more accurate they ought to be. In the event the first TIs did not show until 01.16. At that time I was down in the nose ready to bomb. As we spotted the TIs a blue beam flashed across the sky and stayed on our aircraft. This was a master searchlight, controlled by radar and deadly accurate in picking out its victim. Within seconds ten or twelve white searchlight beams lit up our aircraft. For us this was not unusual. Nearly every time we went to Berlin we got coned. The good thing about it was that when I was down in the bombing position I didn’t have to fumble around with a torch to set up the bombing instruments. With searchlights it was clearer than day. But that night they came too late to help me, as the bombing run had started. As the searchlights were positioned on the outer areas of Berlin they in no way affected the bombing run. At 01.18 I pressed the bomb release and the ‘Cookie’ slipped gently off the bomb rack and sped on its destructive way. The aircraft had to be flown straight and level for the next 42 seconds. This was the time for the ‘Cookie’ to reach the ground and explode, the aerial camera mounted in the aircraft hopefully photographing the point of impact. At 01.19 another group of TIs burst over the target, but by that time the ‘Cookie’ had exploded.

George Nunn continues:

The heavies were doing their stuff on Potsdam just outside Berlin. It was fairly spectacular; they seemed to have set fire to everything around. We were caught in the searchlights, having bombed on the markers and turned for home. The area illuminated by searchlights was too big to get out of. It was just a big pool of light made by perhaps fifteen searchlights, with you in the middle. No violent weaving, because that just kept you longer in the cone. Best to get out of the area as fast as you can. The nav. was watching behind us and I heard him call, “Fighter!”

Harry Harris continues:

We made a turn to the left, climbing steadily, until we were heading westwards for home. We did not even try to get out of the searchlight cone, as it would be quite impossible. The flak was below us and then it stopped. As we settled on course for home at 01.25 the searchlights suddenly went out. I looked through the blister to the rear of the aircraft and saw we were making extremely thick condensation trails. These are commonly seen today in the wake of high-flying jets and are caused by the heat from the engines condensing the water or ice crystals in the air into clouds, very white clouds, streaming out behind the aircraft. As I looked behind I saw a red and a green light just above our contrail. I said to George: “Some idiot is flying with his navigation lights on and is following behind us.” As I said this I realised the lights were gaining on us very fast. I then knew it was not one of ours but the dreaded German jet. At that moment a white light appeared between the red and green lights from the nose of the aircraft. As it did I shouted, “Dive to starboard Go!” Simultaneously three things happened. The searchlights from the ground came on, bathing our aircraft in dazzling light. Secondly, George flung the Mosquito over to the right, pushing its nose hard down. And thirdly, a hail of coloured lights came across the top of the canopy. The fighter was firing and had just missed the cockpit, the cannon shells and tracer bullets missing us by inches. George said a rude word and pulled the aircraft over to the left. The change of attitude must have been sufficient for the light cone to flood the cockpit.