Combined Round the Clock Bombing Offensive by Philip Kaplan

Author:Philip Kaplan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HISTORY / Military / Aviation
ISBN: 9781473861015
Publisher: Pen & Sword Books
Published: 2015-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

Nick Kosciuk, a Polish bomber pilot, flew RAF Wellingtons in World War Two.

Running up the Merlin engines of an RAF Lancaster bomber prior to a raid.

Built mainly of wood, the ultra-fast de Havilland Mosquito was among the most impressive highperformance planes of the war years.

“The Hydra briefing started with a little white lie. The enemy, said the intelligence officer, were developing a new generation of radar-controlled nightfighters on the Baltic coast. That was the carrot. The squadron commander took over with the stick. If we failed to clobber Peenemünde tonight, we would go again the next night and the next, until we did. The attack, he continued, would comprise three ten-minute waves: the first would hit the scientists’ living quarters, the second wave the airfield (in reality, the rocket-launching sites), and the third the laboratories.

‘Hey, Skip,’ Myring whispered, ‘what’s our squadron motto?’

“I glanced at him. ‘You know perfectly well.’

‘Yeah. Leads The Field. So how is it we’re always in the last bloody wave?’

“The PFF (Pathfinders) would employ the Newhaven method—which meant visual ground marking, and would re-centre the markers on each successive aiming point. We were to listen out on channel C for the MC’s instructions and follow them to the letter. Purely as a precaution, in case the markers should be temporarily obscured, we were to approach the target on’time-and-distance’ runs from Cape Arkona on Rügen Island, forty miles north of Peenemünde. The outbound route would keep us clear of known flak concentrations, and the target defences were expected to be light. As for the enemy nightfighters, they would be diverted by no less than eight Mosquitoes bothering Berlin at the time of the attack.

“After the navigation leader had specified the courses, heights and airspeeds, the weatherman performed his magic-lantern show of cloud tops and bases. ‘Looks good,’ said Cassidy. ‘Larry should get plenty of visual pinpoints.’ He looked meaningfully at the bomb-aimer, whose map-reading ability he had sometimes questioned. Myring then grunted: for him, the main business of the briefing began only when the bombing leader took the stage. He licked his pencil, and made a careful note of how his five-ton load would be disposed.

“The signals leader spoke in an apologetic undertone: ‘I would like to see all wireless operators for just a few minutes after briefing.’ I leaned across to ask Fairbairn, ‘What’s all the secrecy, Charles? Why can’t he tell everybody?’

‘It’s just technical stuff, Jack. A pilot wouldn’t understand.’

“The veteran gunnery leader, with a battered service cap worn at an angle, advised constant vigilance. Defying popular belief, he saw the moonlight as being to our advantage: ‘A fighter will stick out like a sore thumb,’ he observed. ‘Just keep your eyes peeled and make sure you see him before he sees you.’

“The station commander strolled onto the stage, one hand in his pocket, the other smoothing a sleek, dark moustache. He was sure he didn’t have to emphasize the importance of the target, and anxious that there should be no early returns. ‘Your flying meals will be ready at nineteen-thirty hours, transport to the aircraft at twenty-fifteen.

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