FLYING HEROES

Te Awamutu Courier, Volume 60, Issue 4232, 17 January 1940, Page 3

FLYING HEROES

HOW HONOURS ARE WON. Although only four months have elapsed since the war began, a number of members of the Royal Air Force have beeu awarded medals for distinguished service, but no one has yet won the V.C. During the Great War of 1914-18 a number of V.C.'s were awarded to British pilots, the first to win the coveted medal being Lieut W. B. Rhodes-Moorhouse, of the Royal Flying Corps—the name f ' given to the Royal Air Force when first formed. On April 26, 1915, he set out to bomb the railway junction at Courtrai behind the German lines on the Western Front. In this task he was successful, but was mortally wounded by enemy fire when he was' returning to the aerodrome. Despite the wound he managed to reach the aerodrome, which was 35 miles away, and to report that he had carried out his mission. The V.C. was awarded after his death.

The next flying officer to win the V.C. was Lieut. R. A. J. Warneford, of the Royal Naval Air Service. About 1 a.m. on June 7, .1915, he took off from Furnes aerodrome in company with two other pilots with the intention of bombing the German airship sheds at Berchem, St. Agathe. The sheds were bombed, but there were no airships inside. This indicated that they were out on a raid and might be expected to return later. Warneford, instead of flying back to his base, lingered in the vicinity in the hope of seeing a returning Zeppelin. When flying over Dixmude he saw one approaching from the direction of Ostend. Although daylight had not commenced, he kept the airship under observation while he climbed up in order to reach a suitable position for attack. When he did so he opened fire with his machine gun, and the Zeppelin gunners replied. Sometimes he was chasing the Zeppelin, and sometimes the Zeppelin was chasing him. The fight lasted 25 minutes without much damage being done on either side. Warneford was at a disadvantage in the fact that the airship could rise much faster than he could climb, and height in itself gave an advantage in attack. He broke off the engagement and flew away. The crew of the airship thought he had had enough, but under cover of clouds he climbed to 11,000 feet. He could see the airship 4000 feet below, flying towards its base. He switched off his engine and swooped down, and got close before he was seen. Paying no attention to a burst of machine gun fire with which he was greeted, he flew directly over the airship at a height of about 100 feet, and dropped six bombs. One of them went through the hull of the airship and burst inside. Immediately there was a terrific explosion. In describing his experience, Warneford wrote: “The displacement of the air around me was so great that a tornado seemed to have been produced. My machine was tossed upward, and then flung absolutely upside down.” He managed to get his machine under control, and then started to fly homewards, but engine trouble developed and he realised that he would be forced to land behind the enemy lines. LUCKY LANDING. The Zeppelin falling in flames attracted much attention, and soldiers and civilians ran towards it from all quarters. In order to escape being seen Warneford landed behind a wood. His first impulse was to set the machine afire so that it would not fall into the hands of the enemy. JEIe looked about him but he could not see anyone approaching, and then it occurred to him that he might be able to repair the damage to his engine and get away. A rapid investigation showed him that the petrol pipe was broken, thus preventing the oil reaching the engine. He repaired the damage as well as he could. The engine could be started only by swinging the propeller. This was a job for two men—one at the propeller and the other in the cockpit. He must manage it alone if he was to get away. After several failures he managed to swing the propeller, start the engine and tumble into the cockpit. Thirty-five minutes after landing he took off and flew away, but owing to the clouds he could not make out where he was. Eventually he landed at Cape Gris Nez, on the north east coast of France and from there flew to his base at Dunkirk. In the meantime the blazing Zeppelin had fallen on a convent at Ghent. The building was rapidly destroyed, and several of the nuns and < children lost their lives. The whole r iof the crew of the Zeppelin perished.

’ There was much jubilation in Great Britain over the news of the destruction of a Zeppelin by a British airman single handed. King George telegraphed congratulations to Lieut. Warneford, and announced that the V.C. had been conferred on him. On the recommendation of General Joffre, commander in chief of the French armies, Lieut. Warneford was also awarded the Cross of the Legion of Honour.

Ten days after bringing down the first Zeppelin Lieut. Warneford met his death. He left Bue aerodrome, Paris, with an American journalist, Mr Henry Needham, as a passenger, with the intention of flying to Dunkirk. When at a height of 700 feet the engine stalled, the machine crashed

and both occupants were killed instantly. REMARKABLE RESCUES. Squadron Commander R. B. Davies (of the Royal Naval Air Service) was awarded the V.C. for rescuing Flight Lieut. G. F. Smylie in the face of the enemy fire after the latter had made a forced landing. These two officers set out on November 19, 1915, to bomb the Ferrijik junction. Smy. lie’s machine was disabled by enemy fire, and in planing down to land in a marsh, he passed over the’ railway station at a low altitude, and released all his bombs except one, which failed to drop. On landing he immediately set fire to his machine. He saw his squadron commander planing down to his assistance, and realising that if the latter landed close to the burning machine he might be killed by the explosion of the bomb when the flames reached it. he rushed back, and from a short distance exploded the bomb with a bullet from his pistol. Squadrpn Commander Davies de. scended at a safe distance from the blazing machine, took Smylie on board in the face of an astonished party of the enemy, and flew back to the aerodrome.

A somewhat similar rescue was carried out by Quartermaster C. H. Hamman, of the United States Air Service. A squadron of American flying boats attached to the American naval force in the Mediterranean in the latter stage of the Great War set out to attack Pola, the Austrian naval base on the Adriatic. Ensign Ludlow, who was flying one of these "single seater machines, was attacked by three Austrian, aeroplanes. He managed to disable one, but the other two made effective use of their machine guns. They smashed the right magneto and holed the crank case of his engine. The lubricating oil spurted out and the engine caught fire. He realised that as soon as the flames reached the petrol tank he would be finished. It occurred to him that if he put the machine in a nose dive the rush of air might extinguish the flames. He cut oft the engine and down went the machine in a spin, and the air blew out the flames. He straightened out and descended on the water. Pola was only five miles away, and Austrian torpedo boats were in the vicinity. It seemed impossible to escape capture.

Quartermaster Hamman, who was engaged in fighting enemy machines, saw Ensign Ludlow descend and concluded that he needed help. Therefore he pretended that his machine 'was disabled by his antagonist’s fire and descended within a few yards of his comrade. The latter, in order to prevent his machine falling into the hands of the enemy, kicked holes in the sides to make it sink, and also opened the slide in the bottom, which had been put there to enable the pilot to take photographs. As Hamman’s machine was a single seater there was no room for Ludlow in the cockpit. The only thing for him to do was to lie flat beneath the engine and hang on there. He did so, and Hamman opened out, but the machine, instead of rising, smashed her nose against the sea and the pilot was forced to bring her to a standstill while Ludlow shifted his weight a bit aft to give the machine a better balance. This time Hamman wqs able to take oft, and he flew across the Adriatic. When he tried to land the machine turned a somersault as soon as her nose touched the water, and both men were thrown into the sea. But they were picked up by a launch and taken ashore. FIVE DAYS ON A FLOAT. On May 27, 1917, Lieut. H. M. Morris and a wireless telegraph operator named Leslie Wright left Westgate, on the Thanet coast, in a single engined Short seaplane, to search for a comrade named Maxton, who earlier in the day had been flying in the vicinity looking for Zeppelin raiders and had not returned. They flew as far as the Dutch coast, searching the sea as they went along, and then turned back. The engine stopped and they descended to the water. There was a stiff breeze blowing, and the waves were white capped. After they had been afloat about six hours the waves tore off one of the wings of the sea-" plane and carried it away. The tail of the machine was the next to go, and the machine began to sink. It turned turtle and both the young occupants—Morris was only 19 years of age, and Wright was about the same age—climbed on to one of the floats, which was wrenched off, and bobbed about like a cork. The water was cold but throughout the night they clung to the float, 'with the waves washing over them at times.

They had nothing to eat or drink but a few milk tablets, and they rationed themselves to one tablet a day. They knew that a search would be made for them, and they kept a sharp Ipok out during daylight hours. They saw a cruiser, but were too far away to attract attention. On the third day they saw a flying boat, but it soon passed over them. On the fourth day the sea became calm and they were able to lie flat on the float. In order to give themselves exercise they had a swim, and lay naked on the float in the warmth of the sun.

For five days they drifted about the sea with nothing to sustain them but one milk tablet a day, and one drink of water, obtained by holding "out a piece of canvas in the rain. About 3 p.m. on the fifth day they saw a flying boat with a crew of four men pass overhead, but they were not seen.

About an hour later the boat came back, and this time they were spotted. The pilot came down on the water and then taxied to them. They climbed on to a wing of the flying boat and were taken on board. The pilot was unable to take off, and he started to taxi towards the shore against the wind and tide. About four hours later they reached a steamer and their troubles were ended. The feet and hands of both the rescued young men were badly frost bitten, and after a few days in hospital gangrene set in on their knees. It was six months be, fore they fully recovered. Lieutenant Morris was awarded the Distinguished Service Cross and Mr Wright was awarded the Distinguished Service Medal.