BOMBERS RAID

Auckland Star, Volume LXXII, Issue 279, 25 November 1941, Page 6

BOMBERS RAID

CRETE AND BARDIA

r.a.f. night flight EYE-WITNESS' ACCOUNT WESTERN" DESERT. In a Wellington bomber, otherwise "Wimpie." I have taken part in a bombing raid, ran a dispatch from the war correspondent of the Sunday Times. I am still a bit deaf —cannot hear my watch tick. The Wellington's crew was as follows: — Captain, a pilot officer, aged 21. doing his 47th raid—grey-eyed, clearcut small features, tight little mouth: was a constructional engineer at Gateshead. regular crackerjack; broke the record this morning in return from advance base to base. Second pilot, a Glasgow bank clerk, aged 21, doing 25th raid. Navigator and bomb-aimer, aged 20, articled Maidstone electrical engineer; accomplished 40 raids—luxuriant brown moustache and resembles a medieval warrior. Wireless operator, an Edinburgh moulder, gaminesque, aged 21. doing 35th raid. Lastly, the rear-gunner — the greatest character of them all. doinp his 57th laid: looks a jovial mine host; lent me his boots and fur-lined trousers; in the last war as fighter pilot flew 900 hours: told me: "Couldn't keep out of this, and if I'm in it I must be active." Nelson said his men were a band of brothers. So are these. It is a privilege to fly with them. Arrival Over Crete The first half-hour with the doors closed, shutting off the crew, was akin to occupying a miniature dark railway tunnel or being in a submarine. but through the astral dome I saw a cloudy moon and a few stars reflected in the sea. Our engine exhaust roared like a young blast furnace. I visited the captain and found him piloting in bare knees and shorts and wearing only a cloth tunic. The radio operator was fast asleep. Two hours out I stood alongside the pilot and saw the Crete coast. The second pilot climbed into the front gun turret. Presently the captain nudged m£. Straight ahead and far off was an enemy "Archie" winking in cold flashes in the sky. The bomb aimer now lay on his stomach under our feet. Speed increased as we dived down.

We crossed the coast and turned. The enemy "flak" was rising in red and gold balls almost as slow as bubbles. It looked picturesque and innocent. You cannot hear it except rarely. \Yc dived lower with eyes searching for enemy ships. For about five seconds three or four searchlights held us and we moved drunkenly up. down and sideways, dodging them, occasionally rocketing up as though pushed from beneath.

I shouted. "Was tnat flak?" The captain replied laconically. "Some of it was." Our eyes could find no ships, and we were meticulous to bomb nothing el<e. The captain shouted.

"We 11 try Suda Bay.'' It was easily found because more streams of brilliant plumaged "flak" were rising skywards, some of it spirallv. We searched the bay. No luck with the ships. Next we ran along the coast, searching, searching, but saw none, then flew inland to bomb an aerodrome. hut a vast area of white cloud obscured it. "We'd Better Bomb Bardia" We had been instructed to bomb nothing but definite ships or aerodromes. _ I shouted in the captain's ear. "\\ c'rl better bomb Bardia"— Bardia being 200 miles ofT. He consulted with the navigator, who cocked up his thumb in comic agreement. and we flew back to Heraklion and set our course. By this time we had cruised over the targets for ninetv minutes.

The navicator. looking more like a fifteenth-century man-at-arms e\ ery hour, drew lines on his charts and announced when we would be at Bardia. I thought this hiehlv optimistic, but five minutes short of that time he flashed a torch to rouse me. for 1 had been dozing. Baidia was as silent as if peace had returned to the world Twin lights shone, but whether thev were flares dropped by British aircraft or lights to guide the enemv we did know. The bomb-aimer was lying flat on his stomach again and as we crossed the coast over the town tiny green and red lights .lumped into the dashboard dial, telling the captain to turn port or starboard as the bomb-aimer wished. "Ask him if all gone." veiled the captain. I prodded the oosterior of the bomb-aimer, who cocked his thumb. Our night's work was finisher—and here not a shot had been tired at us. The Return Home - We turned for home. Our captain's dV-inL- f° e rc,axcd a bit and he had a dunk from a water bottle. He had not moved from the controls for five and a half hours and had sucked two sweets. That was all.

The landing flarepath was as as a string of stars laid on the aith We touched down lightlv hroueht safely home by our bovjsh captains strong. lithe hands -You

We walked across the desert to Interrogation. tolrl our tale and learned that some brother crews hari really found ships and tn.lv bombed '™- I jf, nce !° tho rough-and-readv ? classes cut from be»r SS lcZop" M <•' fr »"' «»