Photo Hunt - Metal

The theme for this week's Photo Hunt is metal. Once again I'm not stretching the theme to show some photos's of the UK's last fully airworthy Lancaster bomber. The photos were taken at the 2006 and 2001 or perhaps 2002 Pathfinder Sunday at RAF Wyton, an annual day when the RAF salutes veterans of Bomber Command's Pathfinder Force. As I have stated in several previous posts I often take dad to the event so that he can have a few drinks with surviving comrades.

As it happened Dad did not fly many ops in Lancasters: before he was recruited to the Pathfinders he flew Wellingtons (canvas over a metal frame) and for most of his active service he flew Mostquitos (plywood). It would be a stretch to put up photos of either of these planes now!

A pathfinder and an idiot

Scroll down to the post after next (or click here) and you will see a group photo of some of the remaining RAF Pathfinders. Sadly I was unable to accompany dad and mum to this year’s event. My sister and her husband went in my place and an excellent time was had by all.

The Pathfinders were an international force. The commander, Don Bennett, was Australian. There were representatives from many former dominions (including not a few from neutral Eire, including my father of course) and colonies, not to mention the odd American and other nationalities (although the only German RAF pilot, Hugo Adam, flew fighters).

At the back you will see an elderly West Indian. This is Ulric Cross, one of over 250 Trinidadians who served in the RAF during WWII of whom 52 were killed in action. Ulric Cross flew 80 ops as a navigator and rose to the rank of Squadron Leader. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross and the Distinguished Service Order. He subsequently became a high court judge in Trinidad and the nation’s High Commissioner to the United Kingdom.

This year’s Pathfinder Sunday event was the first time my father and Ulric Cross got the chance to meet. They were in different squadrons - Ulric in 139sqn, my father in 109sqn and then on detachment to squadrons in North Africa, Italy and finally Burma. For both of them issues of colour, creed, nationality or class are irrelevant. What counts to them was that they were comrades in arms. Both knew what it was like to fly on air raids, to fly in their beloved Mosquitos, to use the bubble sextant and other tools of the navigator’s trade and of course to be part of an elite force.

According to a news item from the Trinidad Express reprinted on his website, Ken Follett was inspired by Ulric Cross’s wartime experiences to include a black Squadron Leader called Charles Ford in the prologue of his book Hornet Flight. This was not universally well received: one Alan Frampton, who claimed to have been an RAF pilot in the RAF between 1942 and 1946, wrote an angry letter to Follet from Zimbabwe. Frampton described the inclusion of the Ford character as a "sop" to black people who may read Hornet Flight.

In his letter Frampton said he became infuriated after reading a few pages of Hornet Flight and came upon the character Ford, the Black Squadron Leader, who at the time had 15-plus missions to his credit. He said he threw down the book in disgust. "For the life of me, I cannot recall ever encountering a black airman of any rank whatsoever during the whole of my service.... In my book, Charles (Ford) is not a credible character and I suspect he was introduced as a 'sop' to black people who may read your book. He certainly aroused my indignation, remembering as I do, the real heroes of that period in our history, who were not black.... I regard myself as a realist but certainly not an apologist for my race. I have read several of your books and enjoyed them. This one I threw down in disgust."

Follet's reply to Frampton concluded by saying: "With true-life heroes as he (Cross), there's no need for a 'sop' to black people, really, is there?" Cross received copies of both letters from his daughter. Although was not annoyed or shocked over the claims from a fellow member of the RAF, he said he just could not understand how Frampton did not know about him and the other black members of the RAF. "He must be living in a strange world," he said "I am old enough to have a certain amount of tolerance. People believe what they need to believe. For some reason Frampton needs to believe that. When you know what you have done, what people think is irrelevant”

Cross’s dignified response contrasts strongly with my father’s opinion of Frampton: “Well he’s a fucking liar... wanker” were his exact words but then again my father was an electrician and not a diplomat!

Make of this story what you will. Me? I consider Cross to be a brave man who served this country during its gravest hour and he was by no means alone. My father, for example, was one of 60,000+ citizens of neutral Eire who did likewise.

I am sure that there are some who would think that highlighting this tale is an exercise in political correctness on my part. The second word of my response to them is “off”.

Click here to see a photograph of Cross during WWII

WW - Pathfinder Sunday 2008

The march of time means that fewer and fewer pathfinders are alive or well enough to make the annual pilgrimage to RAF Wyton, formerly the HQ of 8 Group (the Pathfinders). The Pathfinders were an elite group of RAF squadrons responsible for marking targets to be attacked during bombing raids in WWII. This week's entry for the Tuesday and Wednesday edition of Wordless Wednesday.

My father is in the centre. He is wearing a suit rather than a blazer.

More of my father's stories

I have recently finished reading Nemesis, Max Hastings’s account of the final year of the war against Japan. It’s well written and definitely worth reading. One anecdote stuck particularly in my mind: USAAF B29s attacking Japan would often hit thermals bouncing the aircraft about. On one aircraft the thermals loose the toilet which emptied on a crewmember. Thereafter he became known as Pisspot Smith.

This reminds me of two of my father’s wartime stories. One occurred when he was on stand down near Basra before onward posting to Burma. For a short while he was assigned as a navigator on a C-47 Dakota. On a couple of occasions they had to fly a particularly unpleasant officer on inspection visits to Indian Army Service Corps deports in the region. He must have been particularly offensive for dad and his crewmates to wait until the officer went to use the aircraft’s chemical toilet before encountering “thermals” - at least that’s what they told their commanding officer, who accepted their explanation.

My dad is friends with a fellow Pathfinder, “Chappy” who served as a flight engineer in 582 Squadron which flew Lancasters. Over one target his Lancaster was coned – caught by several searchlight beams. A coned aircraft was usually dead meat unless urgent evasive action is taken (and usually still was). It was standard procedure to dive to gain speed then turn violently to escape the beam. The pilot did this and luckily the plane survived. During the escape Chappy was thrown to the floor and felt a hard, painful blow to his head. He then felt what he thought was blood trickling down his face. A crew member checking whether he was seriously wounded noticed that the liquid was not blood but urine. What happened was that the pilot’s urine bottle had come loose and hit Chappy. For a while he was known as “Pisshead”.

It was particularly amusing to hear Chappy’s wife tell the story at a Pathfinder Day at RAF Wyton a couple of years ago.

We were pathfinders once and young

This is a group photo of some of the last survivors of the RAF Pathfinder Force. It was taken at their annual memorial day at RAF Wyton (the Pathfinder Force HQ during WWII) last month. All of them are in their 80s or 90s now. At 81, my father is the youngest of the group. He is on the far left in the blue/grey suit. He chooses not to wear his service medals (The Defence and War medals, the 1939-45 Star, the Aircrew Europe, Africa, Italy and Burma stars).

About 3700 Pathfinders were killed during WWII, a high death rate even by RAF Bomber Command standards (45% of all operational aircrews were killed. Only one in three survived the war without injury)

As I have mentioned before my father had two very good reasons not to serve in WWII: firstly, he was a citizen of Eire, a neutral country; secondly, he was only 15 when he joined (The RAF probably still thinks he was born in 1923 rather than 1926!). Despite some awful experiences, he never regretted his war service and he is still proud to have been a member of an elite force.

He was one of many Irish men and women in the British services who uttered the well worn phrase to a fellow citizen "Aren't you glad Dev kept us out of the war!"

Lucky to be alive, part II

The Pathfinder Force was formed in response to the gross inaccuracy of the RAF's early night bombing campaigns (an RAF bomber would be lucky to drop its load within 5 miles of its target). Although initially resisted by the chief of Bomber Command, Sir Arthur Harris, 8 Group was finally formed in 1942 under the command of Australian Donald Bennett. The purpose of the force was to locate and mark targets for the main bomber force. This meant that they were the first to arrive at a target and often, because targets needed to be re-marked, the last to leave.

It was a volunteer force (but there were accusations that the best airmen for other squadrons were poached - the officer that interviewed my father, Hamish Mahaddie was known as "the poacher!"), crews were granted a step up in rank and higher pay (my father was a Warrant Officer by 17, although the RAF thought he was 20!) increase in pay. They had to complete a 45 operation tour as opposed to the 30 ops required of other bomber crews.

The Pathfinders brought improved bombing accuracy from miles to about 200 yards. 3,727 pathfinders lost their lives.

"primi hastati", the 109 sqn badge

My father served in 109 Squadron based at Wyton in Cambridgeshire and then in other (non Pathfinder) squadrons in North Africa, Italy and finally in Burma. About 120,000 men served as aircrew in Bomber Command.55,573 lost their lives.

To illustrate this loss, the 460 RAAF Squadron, which would have had an establishment of 200 aircrew, experienced 1018 combat deaths. The squadron was wiped out five times over.

My father's service medals

1939-45 star, the War Medal and Defence Medal

Aircrew Europe Star, Africa Star

Italy Star, Burma Star