Above Us, The Stars: 10 Squadron Bomber Command - The Wireless Operator's Story by Jane Gulliford Lowes

Author:Jane Gulliford Lowes [Gulliford Lowes, Jane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hellsteeth Creative Ltd
Published: 2022-02-09T06:00:00+00:00

“Visibility over target was hazy but a concentrated area of fire could be seen with a pall of smoke up to 15,000 feet. A series of red explosions were seen before and after bombing. Flak was moderate and though searchlights were operating in large numbers they were not effective.”68

Like the crews of Bomber Command, it appeared that the Germans had been anticipating another raid on Hamburg, not Essen. Essen had already been the subject of five previous attacks; the Americans had been carrying out daylight raids (and suffering very heavy losses), and by dawn on 26 July 1943, 90% of the industrial area had been destroyed. Hitler’s deputy, Goebbels, had reported that 800,000 people had been left homeless. Twenty-three aircraft were lost that night, including that of 10 Squadron’s very experienced Squadron Leader, Johnny Hartnell-Beavis. Hartnell-Beavis and his crew had arrived at Melbourne on the same day as the Pennicott crew. Having successfully bombed the target, they were attacked by Luftwaffe fighters over Holland. Hartnell-Beavis gave the order to bale out, but only he and his wireless operator, Ray Smith, survived. The Squadron Leader was captured and taken prisoner of war, but Smith was taken in by various Dutch families, and with the aid of resistance networks, over the course of the next three months he evaded capture and made his way back to England via Spain and Gibraltar.69

As Z-Zebra made landfall over the coast, the aircraft hit a patch of particularly violent turbulence. So relieved to be once again within sight of home, the crew barely seemed to notice as they were bounced around in their seats. Jack swore as he cracked his elbow against the metal aerial winder to his left. He flicked back the handkerchief-sized patch of canvas that passed for a curtain and peered out. The first grey-gold stripes of dawn were painted across the sky; slowly, the patchwork of fields, the toy-town jumble of towns and villages and the occasional glittering thread of a river began to shed the monochrome cloak of darkness and take on colour. England, emerging from the night, in all its thousand shades of green.

As Penny turned the aircraft slightly north, the boys began to look out for the familiar landmarks, as they always did.

“There’s the Wash!” yelled Roy over the intercom, even though they all (with the exception of Bill, who was always the last to see anything due to his position at the rear of the aircraft) could see the broad expanse of water beneath them. Next Ken picked out the towers of Lincoln Cathedral, shortly followed by the Humber – distant merchant vessels, like tiny black diamonds, heading in and out of the busy port of Hull, clearly visible.

Far away to his left, Jack could just make out the black pockmarks on the landscape which signified the collieries on the eastern fringe of the Yorkshire coalfields. For a moment, he felt a pang of homesickness as he thought about the thousands of men – men like his father

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