ATTACK ON GERMAN CONVOY

Southland Times, Issue 24438, 19 May 1941, Page 7

ATTACK ON GERMAN CONVOY

(8.0.W.) RUGBY, May 17. Details of the Bomber Command attack on Thursday on a convoy of enemy supply ships north of the Frisian Islands leave no doubt of the success of the operation. Two ships of 5000 tons and 4000 tons were left in flames and a third of about 2000 tons was sending up clouds of smoke. White and yellowish smoke came from the largest ship followed by a sheet of flame. Flames were also licking out of the side of this ship between the deck I and the water level. Tlie second largest ship was attacked I at the same time. The first attacking bomber flew so loy that it carried away the ship’s wireless aerial. Bombs hit the ship and, by the time the attack was over, the vessel was well ablaze. A great deal of smoke poured up from the smaller ship immediately after an attack from a low level. Members of a Polish squadron of the Fighter - Command did widespread damage when piloting three pairs of Spitfires. They swept over the Channel and Northern France in daylight yesterday. They skimmed fields and hedges at a high speed, picking out their victims. All returned within a few minutes of each other. Their exploits included the shooting down of a large three-engined troopcarrier in flames, the machine-gunning of another troop-carrier which was taxiing across an aerodrome, the setting on fire of a two-funnelled steamer, the machine-gunning of two other ships and an E-boat and the machinegunning of six Messerschmitt 109’s apparently filling up at a petrol station on an aerodrome. Typical of the adventures of the British crews is the exciting and perilous journey home in a damaged aeroplane made by a British crew after the recent daylight raid on Heligoland. It was told in a broadcast by a ser-geant-pilot. PRECISION OF ATTACK After describing the clockwork precision of the attack he said: “We did not hang about longer than we had to and with all that anti-aircraft fire about I was taking violent, evasive action almost at sea level. I do not know whether a burst above the aircraft pushed me down or whether a very high wave caught us, but suddenly the left side of the aircraft was covered with a whirling mass of white foam and I knew that the port airscrew had struck the sea and was churning it up. “With all my strength I pulled back the control column. Hitting the sea must have pulled us round for I found that we were heading back to the guns on the island. We turned west again, keeping fairly level at 100 feet—the port airscrew was useless, having been badly bent when we hit the sea. “Then a small but powerfully-armed German convoy suddenly appeared out of the mist and fired at us. We were a pretty lame duck, but we turned and managed to get away.” The pilot proceeded to describe how, after sending the first distress signal, the useless port airscrew dropped off and the remaining engine began to vibrate so badly that he had to stop climbing. “So long as we stayed in the air there were two courses open to us,” he. said, “either to give the engine an extra boost and risk tearing it to bits with the vibration or to jog along and slowly to sink. I decided to climb and, as I did so, I sent out another distress signal. The plane was about 40 miles from the coast and night was coming on, but eventually England was reached and the plane, despite a badly damaged undercarriage, made a safe landing.