Enemy Coast Ahead by Guy Gibson

Author:Guy Gibson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: HISTORY / Military / World War II
Publisher: Pen and Sword

Chapter 14

Turning of the Tide

I f mere squadrons were giving plenty of thought to the matter of getting more bombs on the target, let us say something of the activities of the Commander-in-Chief. It was learned from reliable sources that he spent a lot, even the whole of his time, sitting at his desk interviewing pilots, cursing scientists and leaping on Group-Commanders from great heights in order to try to get some information out of them about the subject of bombs on the target. Why had the raid on Bremen gone wrong last night? Because the crews couldn’t see the ground. Why couldn’t they navigate blind? Because they couldn’t get any idea of where they were within twenty miles. Why? Because the Germans were jamming our R.T. and navigational aids. Why weren’t the flares dropped over Bremen? They might have been but the smoke screen was too good for them to see anything at all. Why did the few bombs that did fall anywhere near the area fall mostly southwest? Because the wind changed after take-off and there was no one to tell them anything about it.

And so it went on day after day. Everyone was interested; everyone was trying to see if there was any way in which it would be possible for a large bomber force to drop its bombs accurately on the target, without incurring any undue danger in doing so. And at last a plan was formed.

Meanwhile, in our squadron many of the faces which were there when I took over had gone, some for ever. But new ones had arrived. The conversion units had got into their stride and were turning out really good material; Bunny Grein, Wimpy Wellington, Johnny Coates, Taffy Williams and Ginger Crowfoot had all come within the last few weeks, and they will go down in history as the great men of 106 Squadron. Right from the start they began to get aiming point pictures of the target, and with the points gained by their photographs they brought our squadron up to the proud position of seventh in Bomber Command. Their keenness and skill was largely due to an excellent Flight- Commander who had just come to take the place of a vacancy in the other flight. Wooldridge was his surname, but he was rarely called that. He had been known as Dim ever since he learned to fly. He was a sort of ‘Algy’ of the air, with a large moustache and a drawling voice. He had amazing habits, and at the time he joined, he was engaged in the doubtful art of composing a concerto for piano and orchestra. I think it was a ruse on his part to keep him away from the boys. He had stomach trouble. He couldn’t drink a lot, and his excuse always was that he must sit down quietly in his sitting-room and write his concerto rather than go out and drink beer. Poetry was his line as well, but he was an excellent type, and, apart from all this, had done sixty-seven trips over the Third Reich.

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