Dam Busters by Ted Barris

Author:Ted Barris
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Publisher: HarperCollins Canada
Published: 2018-07-23T00:00:00+00:00

“Everything’s fine here,” called out bomb aimer Len Sumpter, and he released the Upkeep. It bounced twice, hit the wall of the dam, disappeared into the reservoir, and exploded, creating the plume of water the aircrews were now expecting as a matter of course. Shannon felt certain they’d caused a breach in the dam. But with no physical evidence, they had to send a code back to Grantham indicating no breach on the first bombing attempt.

At fifteen minutes to 2 a.m., Maudslay conferred with Robert Urquhart, his navigator, and John Fuller, his bomb aimer, and began his third attempt at the dam. The other crews that could do so, through their Perspex, watched Maudslay pilot Z-Zebra to the dam. It appeared to Robert Kellow, the wireless operator aboard N-Nuts, that they’d made a perfect drop. There was a red flare indicating that Z-Zebra’s bomb aimer had released the mine, but then Kellow reported a terrific orange flash. The Upkeep had hit the top of the dam and exploded. What wasn’t clear was whether Z-Zebra had escaped the inferno.

“Henry!” Gibson called on his radio. “Z-Zebra, are you o.k.?”55

At first there was no answer, then a faint “I think so . . . Stand by,” from Maudslay. An awkward and uncomfortable silence followed. Nobody saw wreckage or heard distress calls. Z-Zebra had disappeared without a trace. When the smoke cleared, Hutchison sent the all too familiar code of the night, “Goner 28B,” signalling that the mine had been released, that it had overshot, and that there was no breach. For Gibson, two daunting factors loomed. To the north, the sky was growing lighter; their cover of darkness was giving way to dawn. They’d run out of time. Just as pressing, Gibson knew the squadron was down to its final Upkeep; Les Knight and the crew of N-Nuts represented the last chance to breach the Eder.

Given all they’d witnessed this night over the Ruhr—Bill Astell’s crew crashing into high-tension wires at Marbeck, Hopgood’s going down over the Möhne, and now Maudslay’s disappearance beyond the Eder—confidence among members of Knight’s crew was at low ebb. Knight’s front gunner, Fred Sutherland, admitted he was worried. Though he’d had his Browning machine-gun handles in a death-grip most of the night, Sutherland hadn’t fired a single shot. And even as Knight lined up a dummy run over the reservoir, Doc scanned the dam for anti-aircraft guns. “I didn’t see anybody firing or even running,” Sutherland said. He was just listening intently on his headset. “All I remember then was the intercom talk, that was all.”56

The chatter on the radio receiving transmissions from the other crews had everybody advising pilot Les Knight about his attack strategy; it must have been one distraction too many. Knight called to wireless operator Robert Kellow: “Switch [the radio] off.” Knight had now been at the controls of N-Nuts for more than three hours, hedgehopping, circling, and constantly preparing for his commander’s call to attack. Thus far, he’d remained in reserve. But experience had also taught Knight to adapt.

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