Free Aircrew: The Story of the Men Who Flew the Bombers by Bruce Lewis

Reg had that moment shouted over the intercom telling his skipper to do just that when an amazing thing happened. A burst of tracerhosed out of the blackness towards the Messerschmitt and sent it plummeting towards the earth. For a bare instant Reg spotted the aircraft that had come to their rescue – a twin-engined, well-proportioned aircraft with pointed wings and a single fin. He recognized it at once. It was the incredibly fast RAF De Havilland Mosquito out on night intruder patrol. Its task was to seek out and destroy enemy fighters over Germany. But to do this at the very instant when the fighter was attacking a bomber must have been rare indeed. After that Reg was convinced they were a lucky crew!
    Shortly after this, their skipper was promoted to Wing Commander and sent as CO, with his crew, to 429 [Bison] Squadron, another Canadian unit. Here they were in the process of changing over to Halifaxes from Wellingtons, one of the last in 6 Group to do so. By the time the transfer of aircraft had been completed they would have lost more Wellingtons on operations than any other squadron in the Group.
    The Wellington had almost run its honourable course with Bomber Command. By October, 1943, it would have flown its final major operation in Europe. During its long tour of duty since the beginning of the war the ‘Wimpey’ had clocked up more sorties than those flown by Whitleys, Hampdens, the unfortunate Stirlings and the ill-fated Manchesters all added together.
    The deal for Piddington, the new CO of 429, was that he should return to flying Wellingtons until the conversion to the larger aircraft had been completed. After this, he and his crew, if they survived, would go back to flying Halifaxes. Morale in 429 had been shaken at that time. The squadron had lost three COs in the previous eight weeks. Wing Commander Piddington was ordered to restrict his personal trips to the minimum.
    Air Chief Marshal Sir Arthur Harris had taken over as the chief of Bomber Command in February of the previous year, when the numerical strength in aircraft had been little more than it was at the outbreak of war. During 1942 he had nurtured and expanded his force until now, in 1943, he felt in a position to mount a series of powerful ‘battles’. From March until July, he had concentrated his main blows against the Ruhr – Germany’s vast industrial area, made up of many towns in the country’s mid-west. This heavilydefended part of the Fatherland was known to the bomber crews as ‘Happy Valley’.
    Reg and his crew had carried out most of their raids so far over ‘Happy Valley’. Now, in late July, Harris launched his ‘Battle of Hamburg’, a devastating series of attacks on Europe’s biggest port and Germany’s second largest city, housing one and three-quarter million people. It was planned to complete the operation in a concentration of four heavy raids spread over ten days. The new CO of 429 decided to fly with his crew on the second of these missions – on 27/23 July, 1943.
    At briefing, Piddington pointed out the importance of the raid, the large number of aircraft taking part and, because of this, the need to maintain strict flying discipline within the bomber stream. He stressed how vital it was to stick to the timings that had been set down.
    On a cheering note he emphasised the success of ‘Window’, a radar counter-measure which had been used for the first time three nights previously over Hamburg. ‘Window’ consisted of metallic strips which, when dropped in thousands from the bombers, completely foxed the enemy’s defences, both on the ground and in the air. AA guns, searchlights, and night fighters became ‘blind’. The radar screens from which these defences had previously been directed were now blotted out by clouds of tinsel.
    But for the timid argument that this device could have been turned round by the Germans and used in raids against Britain, (hardly a major threat with the Luftwaffe’s bombers