The Bombers Set Out

Evening Post, Volume CXXXI, Issue 15, 18 January 1941, Page 16

The Bombers Set Out

iiiuiiMliiitiiiHliiiimiinimiiiiiiiMiiiHiHimiimiiiiimiiiiiiin

NEUTRALS who, with the competing claims of the belligerents before them, may be inclined to doubt whether our bombing raids on Germany and Italy are always quite as effective as the Air Ministry reports would doubt no more if they could see for themselves the skill and care with which every raid is planned and carried out, says a writer in "The Times." The public see only the somewhat bald official announcement that aircraft of the Bomber Command have successully attacked a military objective in one of the enemy countries, but behind it lies a history of scrupulous preparation, of dogged determination in highly trained crews to carry out the difficult and dangerous tasks allotted to them, and of the use of every known scientific means to help the aircraft get safely to and from the targets. There is nothing haphazard about these raids. Each is planned with the utmost care for some time in advance. For days before the bombers start, experts are busy getting together all the available data about the objective. I Large-scale maps are studied, photo- j graphs and plans are brought out, and each navigator is equipped with a special chart showing even the smallest details of the factory, aerodrome, power station, railway, or canal to which he must find hU way. On the day of the raid the giant bombers are serviced and overhauled, rather like horses being prepared for an important race. -Every part is examined, from the electrically operated machinery, the engines, and fabric, to the internal telephones, bomb releases, and guns. Then the bombs are loaded into the racks, petrol tanks filled, guns armed, and the aircraft are dispersed on ihe aerodrome, under armed guard, to await the time of departure. -Meteorological experts having supplied the reports which tell the crews what sort of weather they are likely to experience, everything is ready for the "briefing," which forms an indispensable part of every bombing raid. Towards tea-time the pilots, navigators, wireless operators, and air gunners, fresh from a good sleep, begin to file into a large room fitted out very much like the lecture hall of a technical institute. Usually there is a white screen and a projector, and always a blackboard.' Each navigator as he enters is haiaded an accurate chart showing him the contours of the country in the area of the target, together with a detailed plan of the objective itself. What follows is a very informal affair. Officers and men sit around in easy chairs, smoking pipes or cigarettes, while the station commander and the intelligence officer give them a great deal of useful information about reaching their target and a£out the site they are to attack. The crews listen intently and make notes. It is difficult. to realise that these calm young men are being i "briefed" for a dangerous task. There'

is no trace of doubt that they will have bombed this aerodrome or powerstation and be back again before dawn. Photographs and plans of the target are shown on the screen while the intelligence officer points out the vulnerable spots to be bombed. He (tells the crews what most of them know already—the dangerous, welldefended areas to be avoided on the S££«X iSSLy^T^ooZ details of the known defences in the j target area. No attempt is made to minimise the dangers; if there are ! strong anti-aircraft batteries, or balloon barrages the men are told so plainly, but they are also shown the best way through them. "The 'Flak' (anti-aircraft) and searchlights are pretty heavy to the north," . says the intelligence officer. "Attack, fr» the south-east to .™*^ There are thirteen high chimneys on, this factory, so you can't miss it. Here are the vulnerable spots (indicating j ~ .. „ il. rmM »s tv/t.,1 C .,, V , Q the points on the screen). Make sure you are over your bit of the target and then let 'em have it." Or, "The hangars are on the east of the aerodrome over here" (again indicating the spot). Once more he points to the photograph. "Look out for aircraft on

this part of the aerodrome. No need to tell you about the defences; you know 'em pretty well already." The crews grin. They have visited this spot more than once, Sometimes questions are asked and the photographs or charts are flashed on the screen two or three times to clear some difficult point. Then 'he station commander gives the flra, instructions, tells them the take-off time and the precise minute by which they mus t be away from the target if t t home feef d Th(? J ~ . s ~ , crews listen, as unconcerned as though they were being advised on a peaceful practice flight. They xiote the alterlia tive objectives which may be attackcd* if they fail to locate the primary one. Then they troop out and make '^^™sJ«£%SZ< they w m fl y a i one an d may no t see ! the other aircraft until they are back on the aerodrome again. Pilots and navigators discuss and plot their course gQ a s s to make the best uge Qf dis . tinctive or well-known landmarks such as railways, Autobahnen, canals, rivers, and lakes. The navigator gets busy with dividers, parallels, and scales, and soon they have decided which route they will follow.

iimiiimiMiilliiiiimilllillilimilMllrniiiiiiiimilllllmiiilliimimltiHliiiliiimlilmiimiiiHiiimm

Preparations complete, the crews go off for a meal. Soon they are back in the "robing rooms," and they emerge in flying kit to find lorries waiting to take them to their aircraft standing out on some distant part of the aerodrome. Most of the men have flasks of tea sticking out of their pockets. Night flying is a cold business, even in summer. All carry little bundles of food and their parachutes. Soon one hears the roar of the engines being warmed up, and then, in the gathering darkness, the great bombers taxi across the landing field and take off. One obligatory circuit of the aerodrome and they are away. Inside the operations room someone chalks the departure times on a blackboard. (Nothing much more is to be done for I two or three hours, and only a skeleton, staff of wireless operators remains while the others who are to be on duty all night go off for their evening meal. i Just before midnight the operations officers come back and the station commander strolls in. He says that he has decided to stay up "just in case anything goes wrong." Actually he does this every night his men are operating, although he will be on duty in the morning. In the adjoining room trained men are interpreting, the splutters of complicated wireless sets. They listen for news of their bombers and frequently pick up morse calls from aircraft belonging to another station. Presently one of the operators, writes something on a slip of paper which a messenger loses no time in taking into the "ops" room. "D for Donald, of X squadron, is turning back with engine trouble, sir," announces the operations officer. The group captain nods. This is inevitable at times, however good the engines. A mark is put on the blackboard beside "D for Donald's" name. A couple of hours later "D's" engines can be heard in the distance; he asks for permission to land, and having got it he comes down. After a time he enters the room, reports to the intelligence officer on the engine trouble, and disappears again. Meanwhile news is coming through of the other raiders. "J," of V squadron, flashes the message "Off target at 01.21." He can be identified by his call-sign. One of the ground staff records the time on the blackboard. AH through the night the receivers keep up their whining. At intervals news comes through, until something has been heard from most of the bombers. The station commander glances at the clock. "No news of 'F' of X squadron yet?" he asks. His voice betrays a slight anxiety.. As though to reassure himself he adds, "He never wants to leave it." Sometimes the message tells of failure to locate the objective; more often it ' announces briefly, "Target bombed,"

and gives the time. If the primary objective cannot be found the bomber will try to locate the alternative. Sometimes a morse message brings news of tragedy. "SOS from 'G,' sir," says the operations officer quietly; "been hit by Flak." The damaged aircraft continues to report its progress for some time, and then there is silence. Its position is worked out on a largescale map of Europe spread on the table and a flag is stuck into the appropriate spot. The men discuss in undertones the possibility of "G" having baled out and got down safely. "Last heard 02.37" is chalked on the blackboard beside his name.

Time drags badly. Somewhere in the expanse of darkness outside the operations room 20 or 30 bombers are speeding home. By now they are over the sea. Requests for a "fix" (a location point) come through from the aircraft, and surely and methodically they are guided home. "P" reports that he had been hit and his undercarriage may be damaged. Telephone calls are put through to the casualty crews to stand by, and the control tower men are told that "P" is to be given preference when he comes in to land. One by one the bombers approach their aerodrome, get permission to land, and come floating down like giant gulls. The station commander goes out to see "P" alight. His undercarriage comes down after all and he makes a perfect landing.

One after another the crews troop into the operations room to make their reports. They look tired but contented; most of them have had a successful night. They answer carefully the questions of the intelligence officer. It is a friendly but thorough "third degree." The men describe how they found the target and where they saw their bombs explode. The intelligence officer knows everything about the target from a long and careful study of all the data. This enables him to assess the accuracy of the crews' reports. They report things which they saw on the way out and on the journey back—ships, signals, lights, and guides to future targets. Then the crews go off to breakfast, and the intelligence officer sifts the information, assesses the damage, builds up a complete picture of the raid, and prepares his report for the Air Ministry.

Tomorrow the world will read that the R.A.F. has bombed such -and such a target. The crews will read this modest statement of their activities with quiet satisfaction. The task which they had been allotted has been successfully carried out, and next day their colleagues will be doing a similar job with equal success.