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Aviation History
1938
1938 - 2260.PDF
n8 FLIGHT. AUGUST II, 1938. and the other over Kent. Both were intercepted, one near Braintree and the other near Sevencaks. Ihey were considered to have suffered heavily. During the day Mr. Hore-Belisha, the War Minister, visited the Opera tions room at the Fighter Command H.Q. and the H.Q. of No. n (Fighter) Group at Uxbridge. The Air Minister, Sir Kingsley Wood, also went round, and was at Hornchurch at 17.00 when twenty-two Fairey Battles stole in on a low-flying raid, below the roof level of the hangars, at 250 m.p.h., and pro ceeded to obliterate the Air Minister and his staff. The question remains whether they would not have obliter ated a good many of their own num ber by bombing at such a low height. Sir Kingsley went on to Fighter Com mand H.Q., and there met with another adventure, for three A.W. Whitleys sought his blood. They had no luck, however, for some trusty Hurricanes intercepted them just be fore they reached their objective, and no doubt the eight gun fighters shat tered them effectively. During the afternoon it was esti mated that some 66 per cent, of the raids were intercepted. Of course, the raids went on, and Battles got home on Boscombe Down ; two Wellesleys, flying low, on Driffield; Blenheims in small formations on Bassingbcurn, Cranfield and Wyton; Battles on Abingdon and Harwell; and Blen heims on the railway cutting at Great Rissington. During Saturday night the Eastland bombers, ignoring the risks of the imaginary balloon barrage, attacked London in a series of small formations. The searchlights were busy, and many interceptions were made. After mid night fog_ descended heavily over the whole area, spreading in from the sea. It brought tragedy in its train. At 01.30 on Sunday morning all the bombers were recalled to their home stations. One Harrow, from No. 37 (B.) Squadron, Feltwell, evidently came down through the fog to see where it was, and hit a tree at Great Barton, near Bury St. Edmund's Suffolk. It crashed and burst into flames, and all the five on board lost their lives. It may be noted that the pilot held the rank of Flying Officer, and therefore had plenty of experi ence. Another tragedy befell.a Battle of No. 88 (B.) Squadron from Bos combe Down, which wandered about for some five hours after the recall had been given and finally turned over when landing on rough ground near Braintree, Essex. The pilot, a Flight Lieutenant, was slightly injured, but his air gunner was killed. The fighters were not recalled at the same time as the bombers, but stayed up till 04.50 in order to give practice to some of the searchlights. The cur tailment of the raids had left some of the T.A. sappers without any chance of spotting Eastland raiders, and it would have been most undesirable for them to feel that they had wasted th:ir time. But the result was that four Demons found all the aerodromes in their part of Lincolnshire completely blotted out by fog. They flew round until their petrol was exhausted, and then the crews of three of them jumped with their parachutes and landed safely. The pilot of the fourth tried to get down on Digby Aerodrome but crashed in a field beside it. Neither he nor his gunner was injured. These very disappointing exercises came to an end at 14.15 on Sunday, a day of continuous rain in London, when no raiding was possible. Sifrvingsley Wood sent the follow ing message to the Commandant of the Observer Corps: — '' I have seen the Observer Corps at work during this Exercise, and have also been able to examine the results of their work at headquarters, and I am much impressed with the great value of their work, which is quite in dispensable to the air defence of this country. "I wish to express my appreciation of the spirit and the efficiency with which this work is undertaken volun tarily by members of the Corps all over the country." Hereafter follow some personal im pressions by members of the staff of Flight, who were privileged to fly on raids by day and night. RAIDING IN AN EASTLAND BLENHEIM AT Wyton, near Huntingdon, on Friday morning one found a scene , that, with minor variations, must have been typical of that at almost any other station in the Exercise area. At 08.30 hours the machines—in this case Bristol Blenheims of Nos. 139 (B.) and ir4 (B.) Squadrons (Commanding Officers, Sqn. Ldr. L. W. Dickens and Sqr. Ldr. W. L. Freebody, A.F.C., respec tively)—taxied out from the big hangars to become mere wraiths on an aero drome blanketed by a warm and clammy mist that merged imperceptibly into low cloud. Then, but for the occasional pulsating roar of a pair of Mercuries being run up, peace descended. Obviously the war could not start until the weather assumed a brighter face. Indoors there was more activity. Around a big table in the crew-room, littered with maps and C.D.C.s, a score of navigators, the majority of them sergeants and corporals, worked out courses. Much cheerful chatter and an occasional imprecation as a problem refused to resolve itself suggested a pre- breakfast prep, period at school, and a roughly drawn diagram on a blackboard heightened the illusion. In his office up stairs a harassed but cheerful Assistant Adjutant—incidentally a retired Army officer—wrestled with a spate of operation orders which constantly threatened to overwhelm a daily routine already- sadly upset by the hostilities. Not until after noon did the blanket lift sufficiently to reveal the trees on the far side of the aerodrome and the slim, dark Blenheims ranged against the boundary among bell tents, the very presence of which suggested that some thing out of the ordinary was afoot. Theoretically, of course, these bombers were not sitting on Huntingdon turf at all. They were being readied by the sinister soldiery of Eastland, that dank and dismal territory founded on the sand banks of the North Sea. Certain other types were considered to be Westland bombers on their way out to deliver a heavy load of quid pro quo upon the heads of the Eastlanders. As such, they would receive the "pass, friend," from the defending forces "between Wyton and the coast. Only when well out to sea would these aerial Jekyll and Hydes assume their mantle of villainy to turn and rend the country they had left. We ourselves were considered a sort of "dead ball" until we turned about. It sounds a little complicated, but the umpires, no doubt, understood it. Which reminds us of the fact that the sadly belated zero time of 15.n hours at Wyton caused a drawing of stumps alongside our Blenheims, and a team of budding Bradmans turned to with a will to get us on our way. Crews listened seriously to a final caution on the Exercise safety rules framed for just such visibility conditions as these, then dispersed, to their machines. There was to be no formation work; instead, we were to take-off at thTee-minute intervals. Familiarity, no doubt, breeds ability, but one refuses to believe that any amount of familiarity can ever render easy the job of insinuating one's self into a Blenheim when encumbered with a Sidcot suit, life-saving jacket (for usg in case of a forced landing on—or in— an Eastland aerodrome) and parachute harness, though the Irvin observer-type chest pack is thankfully unhooked and stowed away as soon as we are on board. We find ourselves consigned to what is known as "the well"—the circular space in the centre sect:on. The name is not quite apt, for in a commcn or pussy- type well daylight can be seen in one direction only. From the Blenheim's well it can be perceived in two directions—for ward, between the heads of the pilot and navigator, and aft, where the radiance of the rear turret is shed downwards over the rear view of the air-gunner-c«w- W/T-operator on his revolving seat. Actually, experiment proved that, at the risk of an occasional crack on the head in bumps, the well-dweller can see' quite a lot of the countryside forward. For the pilot and his right-hand man visibility in all forward and side direc tions is obviously excellent, and to one unaccustomed to joy-riding in modern bombers, there is the oddest satisfaction in watching the countryside slip along below the bomb-aimer's window in the nose. And how it slips along! So far as can be seen and felt, we are air-borne after an incredibly short run. A climb to the 800ft. cloud-base (or haze ceiling), a change of airscrew pitch that is felt rather than heard, and we settle down to a nice, easy 210 m.p.h. During this period one has been im pressed by .the apparent facility and speed with which the Blenheim pilot can deal with his flap, undercarriage, trim ming and other adjustments. ft is in quite startling contrast to the laborious wheel-winding, pump-handling and tap- twiddling which we have encountered in more than one commercial aeroplane. We fly a short leg N.N.E- to Upwond aerodrome, then turn eastward for the coast, climbing gradually to 4,000ft. through the patchy mist and cloud. A clear and sunlit coastline shows up with almost indecent haste, though we arre merely pottering along with a modest 2,000 r.p.m. on the indicators. We spend ten minutes at sea doing a Jekyll and Hyde act, then turn back purposefully for our .first target—Milden-
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