In their own words...

[bobbysocks]

propaganda with british humor

While waiting to cross the Channel. The Feldgrau idled away their time tuned their radio dials to to hear the BBC's German-speaking voice broadcast the latest war news, titbits of gossip and the latest runour from the Third Reich aswell as playing popular German ballads.

The broadcasts were a component of the "Black Propaganda" campaign devised to "approach the German mind .... and throw it off guard by appealing to the selfish motives in the (soldier civilian)."

Speaking as fluently as any Berliner, Sefton Delmer's chats on BBC were designed to make the German soldiers fearful of taking part in the looming invasion of England. "The barbaric British have developed a fiendish apparatus with which they are going to set the English Channel ablaze as soon as your assault boats near the beaches," Delmer said.

To a degree this disclosure was true. Britain had created an anti-invasion defense whereby oil would be piped to large containers offshore. When ignited, a thick barrier of fire and smoke would rise from the water. However this device was only installed on only a few potentential landing beaches.

Then Delmer informed the Germans in France that he would teach them afew useful English phrases.

"For your first lesson, he said, "We will take the Kanaluberfahrt - the Channel cross-ing ..... the Chan-nel cross-ing.

"Now, repeat after me: Das Boot sinkt .... Das Boot sinkt .... the boat is sink-ing .... the boat is sink-ing.

"Das Wasser ist sehr kalt .... the wat-er is ver-y cold.

"here is a verb will be most useful. Please repeat after me. Ich brenne .... I burn .... Du brennst .... you burn ..... wir brennen .... we burn.

"and now I suggest that you learn another important phrase: Der ss Sturmfuhrer brennst auch scoen .... the ss cap-tain is al-so burn-ing quite nice-ly."

The theme of the germans burning to a crisp on the English Channel was tied in wth information planted by British deception servce, using turned spies and whispers in neutral embassies in Londo, Madrid , Stockholm and Geneva.

[scottyvt4]

Bobby, i truly take my hat off to you my friend, some of these accounts are staggering




great stuff, keep it up

[bobbysocks]

Lady Be Good

Lady Be Good was an American B-24D Liberator of the United States Army Air Forces, serial number 41-24301, during World War II. Based at Benina Airfield in Soluch (today Suluq), Libya, it crashed in April 1943 returning from a mission and was later discovered in 1959 hundreds of miles into the Sahara with its crew mysteriously missing.

Following an April 4, 1943 bombing raid on Naples, Italy, conducted by the 376th Bomb Group, the Lady Be Good of the 514th Bomb Squadron failed to return to base. After attempts to locate the plane in Libya, its nine crewmen were classified as Missing in action, and presumed dead, believed to have perished after crashing in the Mediterranean Sea.

The crew of Lady Be Good were on their first combat mission, having arrived in Libya on
March 18. The aircraft itself was also new, reaching the 376th BG on March 25. The ship had the identification number 64 painted on its nose and was one of 25 assigned to bomb Naples late in the afternoon of April 4.

The members of the Lady Be Good crew were:
1st Lt. William J. Hatton - pilot - Whitestone, New York
2nd Lt. Robert F. Toner - co-pilot - North Attleborough, Massachusetts
2d Lt. D.P. (initials only, also seen as "Dp") Hays - navigator - Lee's Summit, Missouri
2d Lt. John S. Woravka - bombardier - Cleveland, Ohio
T/Sgt. Harold J. Ripslinger - flight engineer - Saginaw, Michigan
T/Sgt. Robert E. LaMotte - radio operator - Lake Linden, Michigan
S/Sgt. Guy E. Shelley - gunner - New Cumberland, Pennsylvania
S/Sgt. Vernon L. Moore - gunner - New Boston, Ohio
S/Sgt. Samuel R. Adams - gunner - Eureka, Illinois

The crew took off from Benina shortly after 3:00 p.m., one of the last to depart. High winds and obscured visibility (and possibly the crew's inexperience[citation needed]) prevented it from joining the main formation of bombers, and it continued the mission on its own.

An 8:52 p.m. an entry in the navigator's log shows a bearing of 140° that indicates the plane abandoned the mission and turned back towards base, but its whereabouts at that time are not known and may have been a source of dispute among the crew itself[citation needed]. At approximately 10:00 p.m. the plane dropped its bombs into the Mediterranean to reduce weight and as a result fuel consumption.

At around midnight the pilot, Lt. Hatton, called base by radio and stated that his automatic direction finder was not working and asked for a location of base. He was apparently given a bearing but it is unknown if Lady Be Good received the transmission or not.

The plane apparently overflew its base and did not see flares fired to attract its attention and continued into the interior of North Africa for two more hours.

After the crew abandoned the aircraft, it continued flying southward. The mostly intact wreckage and evidence showing one engine was still operating at the time of impact suggests the aircraft gradually lost altitude in a very shallow descent, reached the flat, open desert floor and landed on its belly.

On February 27, 1959, British oil surveyor Paul Johnson spotted the wreckage near 26°42'45.7″N 24°01'27″E? / ?26.712694°N 24.02417°E? / 26.712694; 24.02417, 440 statute miles southeast of Soluch, following up a first sighting from the air on May 16, 1958, and another on June 15. A recovery team made initial trips from Wheelus Air Base to the crash site on May 26, 1959.

Although the plane was broken into two pieces, it was immaculately preserved, with functioning machine guns, a working radio, and some supplies of food and water. A thermos of tea was found to be drinkable. No human remains were found on board the aircraft, nor were parachutes found. Evidence aboard the plane indicated that the men had bailed out. Records in the log of navigator Lieutenant Hays, who was on his very first mission, ended at Naples.

The United States Army conducted a search for the remains of the airmen. Finding evidence the men had walked northward, the exploration concluded their bodies were buried beneath sand dunes.

In 1960, eight of the bodies were found by another British oil exploration team after an extensive ground search. After parachuting to the desert floor, eight of the nine airmen had managed to meet up by firing their revolvers and signal flares into the air. They had not been able to find the ninth crewman, bombardier John Woravka, because his parachute had only partially opened and he likely died on impact (his body was the first found in 1960). Thinking they were fairly close to the Mediterranean coast, the eight surviving crew members walked north, leaving behind footwear, parachute scraps, Mae West vests and other items as markers to show searchers what their path had been. They survived for eight days, sharing only a single canteen of water while walking over 100 miles (160 km) in searing heat before perishing. Remains of five airmen were found in a group nearly 80 miles (130 km) from the crash site. The other three (Guy Shelley, 'Rip' Ripslinger and Vernon Moore) had set off to try and find help while the other five waited behind. The bodies of Shelley and Ripslinger were found twenty and twenty-seven miles further north, respectively. Moore's remains were never found, although it is possible that seven years earlier in 1953 they had been spotted and buried by a British desert patrol, unaware that any air crews from the war had ever gone missing in the area.

A diary recovered from the pocket of co-pilot Robert Toner told of much suffering on the walk northward and indicated the crew were unaware they were over land when they bailed out. There has been speculation that whatever glimpses they may have caught of the empty desert floor in the darkness looked like open sea. It seems the crew never understood they were more than 400 miles (640 km) inland.

There is some consensus the crew could have survived had they known how far inland they were and moreover, if their maps shown the area where they bailed out. Going north, the distance they walked was slightly less than the distance needed to reach the oasis of El Zighen south of them, but they were wholly unaware of this. Additionally, if they headed south they would have very likely found the wreckage of the Lady Be Good with its water and food supplies, however meager, along with its working radio, which they might have used to call for help.

According to the Graves Registration Service report on the incident:
The aircraft flew on a 150 degree course toward Benina Airfield. The craft radioed for a directional reading from the HF/DF station at Benina and received a reading of 330 degrees from Benina. The actions of the pilot in flying 440 miles into the desert, however, indicate the navigator probably took a reciprocal reading off the back of the radio directional loop antenna from a position beyond and south of Benina but 'on course'. The pilot flew into the desert, thinking he was still over the Mediterranean and on his way to Benina.

Parts of the plane were scavenged or returned to the United States for evaluation. Curiously, several aircraft that were repaired with parts scavenged from the Lady Be Good crashed. An Army 'Otter' that had an armrest from the bomber crashed in the Gulf of Sidra. The only traces that were ever found from the plane were a few parts that washed ashore—including the armrest from the Lady Be Good.

Aside from components reused in other aircraft, other parts from the Lady Be Good may be seen today at the National Museum of the United States Air Force. One propeller can be seen in front of the village hall in Lake Linden, the home of Robert E. LaMotte.

A Royal Air Force team visited the site in 1968, and hauled away components including an engine (later donated to the USAF) for evaluation by the McDonnell Douglas company. Other pieces were stripped by souvenir hunters over the years.

In August 1994, the remains of the craft were recovered by a team led by Dr. Fadel Ali Mohammed and taken to a military base in Tobruk for safekeeping.

[bobbysocks]

think i posted about clive before but...

Group Captain Clive Caldwell, DSO, DFC & Bar, Polish Cross of Valour.
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Clive Robertson Caldwell was born in Lewisham, Sydney on the 28th of July, 1911. Pre war he trained for his civil pilot's licence whilst a member of the Royal Aero Club. He joined the RAAF at the beginning of the war in 1939 and was commissioned as a Pilot Officer in 1940. As he was destined to become an instructor after completing his training, he resigned and re-applied as an air-crew trainee. His commission was reinstated in January 1941, and he was sent to the Middle East where he took up flying duties in Tomahawks with 250 Squadron RAF. Following a short period of operations in Syria and Cyprus, Caldwell and the squadron were relocated to the Western Desert. It was in this theatre that he achieved great success during intensive operations.

By mid-1941, Caldwell had flown about 40 operational sorties, but had only one confirmed kill - a Bf 109. He was perplexed by the fact that he had trouble scoring hits on enemy aircraft. Whilst returning to base one day, he noted his squadron's aircraft casting shadows on the desert below. He fired a burst of his guns and noted the fall of shot relative to his shadow. He realised this method allowed for the assessment of required deflection to hit moving targets. Further experimentation lead him to acquire the knowledge to assess deflection needed for a range of speeds. Within a couple of weeks he had attained four further kills and a half share. Caldwell's method of "shadow shooting" became a standard method of gunnery practice in the Middle East.

On 29 August 1941 Clive Caldwell was attacked by two Bf 109s North-West of Sidi Barrani. One of his attackers was the Bf 109 E-7 "black 8" of 2./JG 27 piloted by one of Germany's top aces, Leutnant Werner Schroer who was credited with 114 Allied planes in only 197 combat missions. Caldwell's P-40 "Tomahawk" of 250 Squadron was riddled with more than 100 rounds of 7.9 mm slugs, plus five 20 mm cannon strikes which punctured a tyre and rendered the flaps inoperative. In the first attack Caldwell suffered bullet wounds to the back, left shoulder, and leg. In the next pass one shot slammed through the canopy, causing splinters which wounded him with perspex in the face and shrapnel in the neck. Two cannon shells also punched their way through the rear fuselage just behind him and the starboard wing was badly damaged. Despite damage to both himself and the aircraft, Caldwell, feeling, as he remembers, "quite hostile" turned on his attackers and sent down one of the Bf 109s in flames. The pilot of the second Messerschmitt, the renowned Leutnant Schroer, shocked by this turn of events, evidently made off in some haste. Caldwell's engine had caught fire, however he managed to extinguish the flames with a violent slip. He then nursed his flying wreck back to base at Sidi Haneish.

Caldwell's most successful day was the 5th of December 1941 when he shot down five Ju 87s in a single engagement during operation "Crusader". Here is the combat report of that action:
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"I received radio warning that a large enemy formation was approaching from the North-West. No. 250 Squadron went into line astern behind me and as No. 112 Squadron engaged the escorting enemy fighters we attacked the JUs from the rear quarter. At 300 yards I opened fire with all my guns at the leader of one of the rear sections of three, allowing too little deflection, and hit No. 2 and No. 3, one of which burst into flames immediately, the other going down smoking and went into flames after losing about 1000 feet. I then attacked the leader of the rear section...from below and behind, opening fire with all guns at very close range. The enemy aircraft turned over and dived steeply...opened fire [at another Ju 87] again at close range, the enemy caught fire...and crashed in flames. I was able to pull up under the belly of one of the rear, holding the burst until very close range. The enemy...caught fire and dived into the ground."
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Due to his aggressiveness, exceptional combat skills, and determination to strafe ground targets, Caldwell soon acquired the nickname "Killer" which he apparently was not particularly proud of. The name however stuck and was commonly used in referring to Caldwell. In opinion of Wing Commander R.H. "Bobby" Gibbes (he battled in 3 Sqdn RAAF in North Africa and in the SW Pacific under Caldwell's command): "Clive Caldwell was given the name "Killer" (a name which was not of his choosing or liking) due to his habit of shooting up any enemy vehicle which he saw below when returning from a sortie. Invariably he landed back at his base with almost no ammunition left."

Caldwell was promoted to flight commander in November 1941 and received the DFC and Bar simultaneously on December 26 by which time he had 17 victories. He was promoted to Squadron Leader in January 1942 and took command of 112 Squadron RAF flying Kittyhawks. It was due to his leadership, confidence and daring, his work with a contingent of Polish pilots attached to 112 Squadron, and continued success with this squadron that he received the Polish Cross of Valour (Krzyz Walecznych).

In contrast with the great successes of Skalski's Circus , Polish pilots' endeavours with 112 Squadron weren't as fruitful. A group of 12 Polish ferry-transport pilots volunteered for RAF service on 29 August 1941 and after training they joined "Shark" squadron in February 1942. On 14 February, 1942 the patrolling 112 Sqn RAF and 3 Sqn RAAF encountered a formation of 32 enemy aircraft and Sec.Ltn. Dula downed an MC 200. In combat with 6 Bf 109 fighters from I/JG 27 on 21 February 1942 three "Kittyhawks" of 112 Sqn were downed, two of them piloted by Polish pilots: Sgt. Derma and Ltn. Jander. On 13 March 1942 pilots P/O Bartle (English) and Sgt. Rozanski (Polish) left a formation of 12 "Sharks" in the Tobruk area and they were caught by surprise and attacked by Oberfeldtwebel Otto Schulz (4./JG 27, MIA on 17 June 1942, 42 victories). Both were downed, but Rozanski luckily escaped his crashed, burning aircraft. On the following day Sgt. Urbanczyk together with S/L Caldwell got one Bf 109. On 15 March 1942 112 Squadron was moved from the front line to Sidi Haneish for replacements. Polish pilots didn't return to duty in this unit from 16 April 1942.

Whilst with 112 Squadron, the Australian government asked that he be released to return to Australia to command a Wing in the defence of Australia. This Wing was to consist of 3 Squadrons of "Spitfires", and Caldwell spent some time with the Kenley Wing before returning home to acquaint himself with the new aircraft. The Japanese were threatening Northern Australia, and several Australian towns were regularly being bombed. Caldwell left the Middle East with nineteen individual and three shared confirmed enemy kills, six probables, and fifteen damaged.

On his departure from the Middle East, the Marshall of the RAF Lord Tedder wrote of Caldwell: 'An excellent leader - and a first class shot.'

On taking up his command of No. 1 Fighter Wing based in Darwin, Caldwell again showed his outstanding fighting abilities and claimed a further eight Japanese aircraft by August 1943. Caldwell's tally was twenty-eight and a half by the time he left the Wing in August and for this feat he received a DSO to add to his DFC and Bar and Polish Cross of Valour.

[bobbysocks]

How Worcestershire RAF fighter pilot helped Stalin defeat Hitler
by Adam Aspinall, Sunday Mercury


THE last surviving member of a secret RAF squadron who helped save Russia from defeat by Nazi Germany has finally revealed the truth about his wartime heroics.

Eric Carter was a 21 year-old fighter pilot in 1941 when he boarded a blacked-out train in Hull with his 81 Squadron and taken to Liverpool.

The young airmen were then ushered on to a waiting ship and set sail for the open seas, still none the wiser about their destination.

Rumours within the squadron suggested they could be heading for Africa – but they soon discovered they would not need any warm weather gear.

Eric was part of Force Benedict, a clandestine operation to save the strategically vital Russian port of Murmansk.

It was being targeted by the Nazis who were marching relentlessly towards Moscow.

The mission to protect the port and train Russian fighter pilots was top secret because Stalin did not want the world to know he needed British help to defeat the invading Germans.

And such was the secrecy surrounding the ultimately successful operation, that it was largely forgotten for nearly 70 years.

That is until the chance discovery earlier this year of a medal awarded to Force Benedict’s Wing Commander, Group Captain Henry Neville Gynes Ramsbottom-Isherwood.

He was one of only four non-Russians awarded the nation’s highest military award, the Order of Lenin, which was sold at auction in Sothebys this week for £46,000.

Eric, now 89 and living in Chaddesley Corbett, Worcestershire, revealed how he and his comrades were plunged into a grim battle of life and death in the skies above the port on the edge of the Arctic circle.

He said: “Force Benedict was a very well kept secret.

‘‘Stalin did not want his people to know that he had asked the West for help and we were threatened with a court martial if we said anything.

‘‘I was young and must have been mad, but perhaps we were just a tougher generation. I knew the average lifespan in the air was just 15 minutes but I was determined to volunteer after hearing the atrocities the Germans had carried out on the Russians.”

Eric had joined the RAF in 1939 and was initially posted to the famous 615 Squadron who were recuperating in Wales following the Battle of Britain in 1940.

He served with them for a year, defending the skies over Liverpool and Manchester, before being transferred to 81 Squadron. Alongside 134 Squadron, they made up 151 Wing which was sent to save Murmansk.

Eric said: “Murmansk was a pivotal point in the war. It was Russia’s Battle of Britain, the battle for their very survival, and we had to hold on to the port at all costs.

“Our job was to escort Russian bombers and fight off the German planes. We went on 60-odd missions and never lost one bomber.

“But we were only 10 miles from the German base.

“Their General repeatedly asked Hitler for more men so they could overun our airfield but he refused, so we got lucky there.’’

Life in the freezing under-siege city was tough and the threat of death constantly stalked the British pilots – with German bombers above and trigger-happy Russians on the ground.

Eric said: “Murmansk was like Beirut, it was all rubble.

“And the Russians soldiers did not bother to ask who you were, they just killed you on sight. So we were issued with special passes and had to hold them in front of us as we walked anywhere or else we would have been shot.

“It was minus 40 most of the time. Our aircraft and transport vehicles had to be started up every 20 minutes to prevent them from freezing for good.

“And life was so cheap out there.

“Labourers working on the airfield would sometimes freeze to death after a night drinking and in the morning they would be just scooped up and put in the back of a truck.

“But that helped build the strongest camaraderie with your pals because that was all we had. You depended on them for your life and they were all that you lived for.

“Yet we never thought Murmansk was a hopeless cause, never considered defeat and never contemplated that Britain might be invaded if we lost.

“We were determined to win and that’s what we did.

“When you were up in the air you were nearly always in trouble, but Murmansk was the key to everything at that point so we just had to survive.

“We used to fly in pairs to cover each other and shot down our fair share of Luftwaffe, but the Germans gave us a very hard time.

‘‘Yet although we lost a pilot on the first day, we only lost one other during our time there.’’

Wing 151 carried out 365 sorties during a four-month stay in Murmansk, shooting down 11 Messerschmitt fighters and three Junker 88 bombers before handing the secured port back to the Russians on October 13, 1941.

By then the deep snows had begun falling and the German army was set to stall within sight of Moscow. It was the beginning of the end of Hitler’s invasion of Russia – and the turning point of the Second World War.

Eric and his comrades returned to Britain without fanfare after the operation.

He married his wife Phyllis, who he described as “wonderful wife and mother”, while on leave in 1943, before being posted to Burma for the remainder of the war, flying Spitfires and supply missions in Dakotas from Rangoon to Calcutta.

His beloved wife passed away four years ago, after 62 years of marriage.

But the people of Murmansk have never forgotten Eric’s bravery and he has been invited back to the city many times in recent years where he is still feted as a hero.

“The Russian Government has never forgotten what we did for them,’’ said Eric, who is the last survivor of 81 Squadron – and possibly the last remaining member of Force Benedict.

“Me and my wife were invited to the Russian Embassy in London during the 1980s for a ceremony of remembrance with the Ambassador.

“It was a funny occasion and he had a big rant about Margaret Thatcher, I didn’t know where to put my face.

“And I have been repeatedly asked back to Murmansk to remember what we did for them.

“The Russians think a lot more of their war veterans then we do in Britain and they have really looked after me every time I have been over there. They even let me go on board one of their nuclear submarines and how many British people can say they have done that?

“A lot of my pals died during the war and I’m the only one left now.

“I hope our sacrifice and the freedom people enjoy now means it was worth it.”

[bobbysocks]

more raf in the ussr...

Stalin's British heroes: The discovery of a forgotten medal reveals the extraordinary courage of the RAF aces who fought for the Soviet Union


The Messerschmitt was screaming towards him on a head-to-head collision course, but it was Flight-Lieutenant Micky Rook who got his shot in first. He held his nerve, pressed the firing button of his Hurricane fighter plane and the German Me109 exploded in mid-air, disintegrating before his eyes. Another hard-won 'kill' for the RAF in the early years of World War II.
Yet this was no part of the famous Few's dogfight over Kent. The waters beneath Rook's plane were not the English Channel but the icy Barents Sea off Murmansk on the northern edge of the Soviet Union, deep inside the Arctic Circle.
Rook was part of 151 Wing, a little-known RAF group who fought against the Germans alongside the pilots of the Soviet dictator, Joseph Stalin, for four vital months in the winter of 1941. Code-named Force Benedict, its mission has been largely forgotten for nearly seven decades - until the chance discovery earlier this year of a medal awarded to the splendidly named Wing Commander Henry Neville Gynes Ramsbottom-Isherwood, who led 151 Wing.

The red and gold Order of Lenin, resplendent with hammer and sickle and a platinum portrait of the Russian revolutionary leader, is one of the rarest ever won by a British serviceman. It had lain untouched at the back of a cupboard in Sussex for years.
At a Sotheby's auction next month it is expected to attract bids as high as £30,000.
The story behind the medal is an extraordinary one. Stalin's Russia and Hitler's Germany had a non-aggression pact - until Hitler tore it up and huge numbers of German forces invaded the Soviet Union in June 1941.
The Russians had been caught on the hop, largely because Stalin himself had ignored many warnings about such an invasion, and now they desperately needed weapons and supplies to stem the Nazi advance.
Stalin urged Winston Churchill, Britain's wartime leader, to send him Spitfires, the RAF's latest and fastest fighter planes. Churchill refused.
Britain was still struggling to keep the Germans at bay across the Channel and needed its best aircraft for that fight. But to show willing to his new ally, he dispatched Hurricanes - 40 of them to begin with, hundreds later.
As trainers and technicians went the men of 151 Wing, made up of two squadrons, Nos 81 and 134. They were officially under the command of Admiral Nikolai Kuznetsov, head of the Soviet Navy and Naval Air Service, and their orders were to undertake 'the defence of the naval base of Murmansk and co-operation with the Soviet Forces in the Murmansk areas'.
In practice, their job was to get the Hurricanes flying, train the Russians in their use, hand them over and return to Britain. But since they were within easy range of air bases in Germany's ally Finland, they would also go into action, escorting Russian bombers to these targets and shooting down as many German aircraft as they could

Speed was crucial. The ruthlessness and intensity of Operation Barbarossa, Hitler's attack on the Soviet Union, sent the Red Army reeling. It was essential to get the planes to Russia and flying as soon as possible - and before the winter snows began.
The first batch sailed from Liverpool on August 12 in a convoy headed for the port of Archangel, on Russia's White Sea.
Aboard the SS Llanstephen Castle were 16 Hurricanes in crates, with all the spares and kit they would need to get them in the air. The flotilla of ships, codenamed Dervish, was the first of the PQ convoys that later become notorious because so many of their ships were sunk by Nazi U-boats on that run through near-freezing seas to northern Russia.
The second batch, of 24 Hurricanes and their crews, were put on board HMS Argus, an escort carrier converted from a World War I Italian merchant ship.
She sailed from Greenock on August 19. When the Argus reached Murmansk Sound, the Hurricanes were to fly off from its deck and go directly to a remote and windswept airfield at Vaenga, 15 miles north-west of Murmansk on the Kola peninsula that borders Finland.
All 39 were to rendezvous there at a brutally exposed base whose rutted grass strip was open to the bitter winds and snows of the Russian winter. In all, around 550 RAF air and ground crew made this their home for the next four months, a very short time to get their mission completed in temperatures that would go down to -15C, with daylight that varied from 23 hours at the start to three at the end, and rain, mist, snow and ice.
They achieved miracles. Just six days after the Llanstephen Castle docked at Archangel on August 30, three Hurricanes took off for flight testing. Nine days after arrival all 15 were flying, to the delight of the pilots and the Russians. They flew up to Murmansk and the first operational patrols began.
Heading the operation was Wing Commander Ramsbottom-Isherwood, who, despite the overwhelming old-world Englishness of his name, was from New Zealand.
Short, wiry and tough-minded, he was a career RAF flyer in his mid-30s. He was probably the most experienced pilot in the Wing and had been awarded an Air Force Cross for his hazardous duties flight-testing Spitfires, Hurricanes, Typhoons and

Described as having a mouth like a steel trap he was, as one of his men said, not to be trifled with, although he did have a sense of humour and was known to enjoy a party. Once, in Murmansk, his absence at breakfast was noted after a particularly lively Anglo-Soviet celebration the previous night.
His pilots - many of whom had flown in the Battle of Britain of the previous year - were young and keen as mustard, although a bit surprised to find themselves 170 miles north of the Arctic Circle when they had initially believed they were going to the desert, a subterfuge designed to keep the mission secret before they set off.
Among them were Micky Rook and his cousin, the moustachioed Squadron Leader Tony Rook, both dashing six-footers. There was also one very short man, Flt Lt Jack Ross, who was a formidable flyer, having already shot down five German aircraft. He supervised much of the Russian pilots' flight training.
Vaenga, their base, was on a sandy silver birch-covered plateau a few miles from Murmansk Sound. It lacked concrete runways and tarmacked roads and there were no hangars - the aircraft were scattered in wooden pens screened by branches.
But living conditions were good. The men had brick barracks with solid windows and plenty of wood-fired heating.
On the very first day, the Russian hosts produced a welcoming breakfast that included champagne and brandy - delights that were not, however, to be repeated.
The only complaints came from younger officers who found the daily menu of smoked salmon, caviar and cold ham a poor substitute for the bacon and eggs and sausages they were used to. The youngest occasionally complained: 'Oh, hell, here's that smoked salmon again.'
But they saw their job as more than just assembling Hurricanes for the Russians and training them in their use. Here was a not-to-be-missed chance for these Battle of Britain veterans to take on the Luftwaffe again in a different theatre of operations.

On September 12, six patrols and escorts went out and 151 Wing had its first skirmishes with enemy planes. Three of the enemy were shot down, but at a price - the loss of sergeant pilot N. Smith, the Murmansk mission's only combat fatality.
His aircraft was hit behind the cockpit. Unable to bail out because the cockpit rail was damaged, it is thought he attempted a crash-landing on rugged ground and was killed.
Others flirted with death, as Flight-Lieutenant Rook did when he took on that Messerschmitt, one of six flying in formation. At 7,000ft over Finland, he had become separated from the rest of his patrol and, at first, thought the six planes he spotted ahead of him were his own men. He sidled up alongside them before realising his mistake.
They turned on him. He blasted the first one out of the sky and then dived for home at Vaenga with the other five enemy fighters on his tail. They chased him down to mast height over Murmansk Sound before he shook them off.
As he said later, having landed after one of the stiffest dogfights of his life, he sat sweating in his cockpit for a good five minutes before he could lever himself out. The Germans, he said, 'must have thought I was either bloody brave or bloody foolish'.
In all, Wing 151 carried out 365 sorties during its stay at Vaenga, claiming 11 Messerschmitt fighters and three Ju88 bombers shot down - a very creditable tally, considering how short the mission was. On October 13, the handover of the Hurricanes to the Air Force of the Soviet Northern Fleet started.
On October 26 the first Luftwaffe aircraft was destroyed by an ex-151 Wing Hurricane flown by a Russian pilot. Force Benedict's job was done. It was time to go home.
But before leaving, the Wing organised a farewell party for their hosts. The whisky, gin and port proved too much for the Russians, despite their liking for copious amounts of vodka.
On November 16, an advance party left for Archangel to sail back to Britain.
A fortnight later, Wing-Commander Ramsbottom-Isherwood, Squadron Leaders Rook and AG Miller and Flt Sgt Haw were awarded the Order of Lenin, the only four British servicemen so honoured in the whole of World War II.
In the list of Russian honours, the only one higher is the Order of Victory, and only one of those was awarded to a Brit - Viscount Montgomery.
On a fine spring day in late March 1942, the four were invited to the Soviet embassy in Kensington where Ivan Maisky, the ambassador, presented them with the medals.

The importance of the event for Anglo-Soviet relations was shown by the presence of Clementine Churchill, representing the Prime Minister Winston Churchill; Sir Archibald Sinclair, Britain's Air Secretary; Air Chief Marshal Sir Charles Portal, the Chief of Air Staff; and Air Marshal Sir William Sholto Douglas, head of fighter command.
Ramsbottom-Isherwood was also awarded a Distinguished Flying Cross for his Russian exploits. He later flew in the Far East and survived the war, rising to the rank of group captain. Afterwards, he became commanding officer at Martlesham Heath RAF base in Suffolk.
On April 24, 1950, he took off in a Meteor jet fighter, then just coming into service, for a test flight. Over Kent, he ran into blinding snowstorms and icy conditions.
He flew over West Malling at 200ft and headed for RAF Manston. At 10.45 the aircraft dived into the ground four miles east of Tonbridge and disintegrated, killing him outright.
Extreme icing was the likeliest cause of the accident. At only 44, the man who had led Force Benedict through the wintry skies of Northern Russia had died in conditions similar to those he and his men had encountered and overcome in distant Murmansk.
His medal, along with his other awards, stayed with his family. His wife remarried and went to America. She is now dead. His only child, India, just 10 when her father died, had little interest in medals. Eventually she settled in Rottingdean, on the East Sussex coast. She is now frail and in her late 60s.
In February she moved to Somerset to be looked after by friends.
While her house was being cleared, a plastic bag containing her father's long-forgotten medals was found at the back of a cupboard.
In it were his AFC and DFC 37 - and that rare and elusive Order of Lenin. From that find has emerged a rarely remembered story of World War II bravery and the odd, forgotten campaign fought by the men of 151 Wing in a remote, cold corner of the Soviet Union.


picture: Group Captain H N G Ramsbottom-Isherwood was one of only four non-Russins awarded the Order of Lenin

[bobbysocks]

this is pretty interesting....

Many years ago, Al Capone virtually owned Chicago. Capone wasn't famous for anything
heroic. He was*notorious for enmeshing the windy city in everything from bootlegged booze and prostitution to murder.

Capone had a lawyer nicknamed "Easy Eddie." He was Capone's lawyer for a good reason. Eddie was
very good! In fact, Eddie's skill at legal maneuvering kept Big Al out of jail for a long time.
To show his appreciation, Capone paid him very well. Not only was the money big, but Eddie got special dividends, as well. For instance, he and his family occupied a fenced-in mansion with live-in help and all of the conveniences of the day. The estate was so large that it filled an entire Chicago City block. Eddie lived the high life of the Chicago*mob and gave little consideration to the atrocity that went on around him.

Eddie did have one soft spot, however. He had a son that he loved dearly. Eddie saw to it that his young son had clothes, cars, and a good education. Nothing was withheld. Price was no object. And, despite his involvement with organized crime, Eddie even tried to teach him right from wrong. Eddie wanted his son to be a better man than he was. Yet, with all his wealth and influence, there were two things he couldn't give his son; he couldn't pass on a good name or a good example.

One day, Easy Eddie reached a difficult decision. Easy Eddie wanted to rectify wrongs he had done. He decided he would go to the authorities and tell the truth about Al "Scarface" Capone, clean up his tarnished name, and offer his son some semblance of integrity. To do this, he would have to testify against The Mob, and he knew that the cost would be great. So, he testified. Within the year, Easy Eddie's life ended in a blaze of gunfire on a lonely Chicago Street. But in his eyes, he had given his son the greatest gift he had to offer, at the greatest price he could ever pay Police removed from his pockets a rosary, a crucifix, a religious medallion, and a poem clipped from a magazine.
*The poem read:

"The clock of life is wound but once, and no man has the power to tell just when the hands will stop,at late or early hour. Now is the only time you own. Live, love, toil with a will. Place no faith in time.* For the clock may soon be still."

STORY NUMBER TWO

World War II produced many heroes. One such man was Lieutenant Commander Butch O'Hare. He was a fighter pilot assigned to the aircraft carrier Lexington in the South Pacific. One day his entire squadron was sent on a mission. After he was airborne, he looked at his fuel gauge and realized that someone had forgotten to top off his fuel tank. He would not have enough fuel to complete his mission and get back to his ship. His flight leader told him to return to the carrier. Reluctantly, he dropped out of formation and headed back to the fleet. As he was returning to the mother ship, he saw something that turned his blood cold; a squadron of Japanese aircraft was speeding its way toward the American fleet. The American fighters were gone on a sortie, and the fleet was all but defenseless.* He couldn't reach his squadron and bring them back in time to save the fleet. Nor could he warn the fleet of the approaching danger.There was only one thing to do. He must somehow divert them from the fleet.

Laying aside all thoughts of personal safety, he dove into the formation of Japanese planes. Wing-mounted 50 caliber's blazed as he charged in, attacking one surprised enemy plane and then another. Butch wove in and out of the now broken formation and fired at as many planes as possible until all his ammunition was finally spent. Undaunted, he continued the assault. He dove at the planes, trying to clip a wing or tail in hopes of damaging as many enemy planes as possible, rendering them unfit to fly. Finally, the exasperated Japanese squadron took off in another direction. Deeply relieved, Butch O'Hare and his tattered fighter limped back to the carrier. Upon arrival, he reported in and related the event surrounding his return. The film from the gun-camera mounted on his plane told the tale. It showed the extent of Butch's daring attempt to protect his fleet. He had, in fact, destroyed five enemy aircraft.

This took place on February 20, 1942, and for that action Butch became the Navy's first Ace of W.W.II, and the first Naval Aviator to win the Congressional Medal of Honor. A year later Butch was killed in aerial combat at the age of 29.* His home town would not allow the memory of this WW II hero to fade, and today, O'Hare Airport in*Chicago*is named in tribute to the courage of this great man.



So, the next time you find yourself at O'Hare International, give some thought to visiting Butch's memorial displaying his statue and his Medal of Honor. It's located between Terminals 1 and 2.

SO WHAT DO THESE TWO STORIES HAVE TO DO WITH EACH OTHER?



Butch O'Hare was "Easy Eddie's" son.

[bobbysocks]

World War II fighter pilot is reunited with the Spitfire he was shot down in 65 years ago

A fighter pilot shot down over France more than 65 years ago has been re-united with the Spitfire that almost became his tomb.

Piotr Kuryllowicz was serving with the RAF in 1943 when he bailed out of his blazing Spitfire Mk IX over the Somme after an attack by a Luftwaffe fighter.

The plane, which plummeted 20,000 feet into the ground, lay buried six metres deep until it was recovered in 2005 by French enthusiasts and sent for restoration.

And this week, the 90-year-old who now lives in Canada, took his place back behind the controls for the first time since he was shot down.

Remembering the last time he flew the plane with No. 315 and No317 Squadrons, he said: ‘We were always having lectures, every week it would be something different. In one they told us if you are more than 250 feet away from the enemy, don't bother firing because you will only dent the aircraft from that distance.

Well, we were over Somme flying close escort and I looked over my shoulder and could see someone firing at me, I think it was a Focke Wulf or a ME109.

‘I thought they were too far away to do any damage, the next thing I know I could hear someone on the radio saying Kuryllowicz is on fire.’

Mr Kuryllowicz, who received the Polish Cross of Valour for his wartime efforts, was captured by the Germans while the plane lay wrecked in the French fields until 2005.

He remained a POW until the end of the war, interned in the Stalag Luft III prisoner of war camp made famous in The Great Escape and The Wooden Horse.

The plane was recovered by French aviation enthusiast Pierre Ben and a team from Somme Aviation 39-45, who discovered it buried 6 metres below the ground.

Remarkably some of its original skin was intact, including the squadron insignia and markings, which helped them to identify it and trace Mr Kuryllowicz.

At a special ceremony in France in 2006, he saw the wreckage for the first time and was presented with a crowbar that could have saved his life.

Mr Kuryllowicz used the tool, mounted on the inside of the door, to break the jammed lock of the cockpit canopy, before climbing free of the burning plane and parachuting to safety.

‘As I climbed out on to the side of the plane I remember looking at the rivets and thinking how big they looked. It is strange the things that go through your head when something like that happens,’ said Mr Kuryllowicz.

‘I make sure I have a crowbar in every car I drive now.’

Airframe Assemblies has been involved in restoring or repairing around 90 per cent of the 54 Spitfires thought to still be flying.

[bobbysocks]

a short from one of "the few"

“Our day in a fighter squadron started one hour before dawn and went on to one hour after dusk. This meant that we were on duty from about 3.30 am during the summer and autumn of 1940 and stood down at about 10.30 in the evening. That is of course, when we were not called upon to fly throughout the night, which occasionally happened.”

On the morning of the 15th September 1940, Tom Neil was shaken from his sleep and scrambled with his fellow pilots of 249 Squadron. Leaving the grass airfield at North Weald, the Hurricanes lifted off and began to climb away from the aerodrome.

With tired eyes, the pilots rigorously scanned the arena for the opposing Hun. Flying as Yellow 2, Neil watched as Bf 109s flew over several thousand feet above. Soon after, Ack-ack began to thump into the air at the approaching formation of Dornier 17 bombers. The Squadron turned towards them to attack. Neil positioned himself slightly below and dead astern to the nearest aircraft. With the gun button set to ‘fire’, Neil closed in and sprayed the port side of the Do 17. After putting in a second burst, Neil fell back to maintain his position and watched in amazement as two large objects were flung from the Do 17. In a flash, Neil looked up as the two men passed over his Hurricane with undeveloped parachutes. The crew had bailed out and almost collided with their startled attacker. Suddenly Neil was in the presence of hungry 109’s looking for trouble. After some intense manoeuvrings and fighting, Neil looked around to find he was alone. The action had disappeared as quickly as it had started.

Neil kept his head turning in all directions, knowing full well that there could be hidden bandits skulking in the vast amounts of cumulus cloud. Sure enough, he spotted a Dornier slightly above him. Neil opened up the throttle and set after it. Flying high above the Thames, he quickly caught up with the Do 17, realizing that he wasn’t alone. About 200 yards on Neil’s left was a Spitfire, chasing after the bomber in front. Hurricane and Spitfire flew line abreast and watched as the Hun took cover in the large cotton wool clouds. Quickly re-emerging, it took evasive action and began to dive towards the Estuary. Neil and his companion began astern attacks, taking it in turns to fire short bursts into the Dornier. With smoking engines the aircraft turned eastwards towards the sea. After a final attack, the Hurricane’s guns fell silent. Neil watched the Spitfire deliver the remainder of its ammo and then pull away. The stricken aircraft lost height and grazed over the convoy of ships below. Exhausted, the Dornier’s tail slumped and collided with the North Sea. Leaving the Hun to submerge in the waves, the RAF’s finest veered away.

Flying inland together, the Spitfire pilot gave a wave from the cockpit and pulled away, leaving Neil to head back for North Weald.

[bobbysocks]

The Luftwaffe’s Flying Dutchmen

The following is the translation from French of an article by German historian Hans-Werner Neulen which was published in the February/March 2001 issue of AÉRO JOURNAL magazine, published bi-monthly by Aéro-Éditions of F-32500 Fleurance.

All the countries occupied by the Germans between 1939 and 1945 supplied the Luftwaffe with aircrew contingents, of greater or lesser importance and for the most part these were comprised of volunteers. In proportion to the size of their small nation, the Dutch were probably the most numerous. The following is the history of four such men.

To face the German invasion of the Netherlands on 10th May 1940 the LVA could assemble some three hundred aircraft, of which 25% were combat types (being utilised by Lv regiments 1 & 2) Dutch military aviation offered vigorous resistance to the Luftwaffe. In five days of combat, the Dutch lost 80 aircraft (70% of their front-line strength). The Germans losses totalled 328 machines (1) (including 206 brought down by anti-aircraft guns)

FOREIGN VOLUNTEERS
Five years of occupation followed. During this period a small number of Dutch nationals collaborated with the new masters of the Netherlands. Some fifty thousand Dutch volunteered for Service in either German military (Waffen-SS, Kriegsmarine) or para-military (NSKK, OT, RAD etc) units. Only a minute fraction of these volunteers chose aviation.

A list prepared in 1945 for judicial purposes (Strijders in Duitschen Dienst aan het Oostfront) states – via informants or unit names – the existence of twenty-two Dutch nationals who served as ‘aviators' (2) This list is most likely incomplete, it was prepared in haste shortly after the country was liberated and thus with little retrospection. It is however accepted that about a dozen Dutchmen did serve as active aircrew. This is a large contingent for a western European nation.

It may be said that the citizens of the Netherlands possessed a ‘trump card’ faced with the racial policies of the national-socialists. They were viewed as a Germanic race and so could enrol without problems in units such as the Waffen-SS. The Luftwaffe authorities however, were for their part, more reserved and hardly willing to put their machines in the hands of foreigners. It was too easy for a candidate to desert in possession of a modern aircraft or to reach neutral countries or land behind enemy lines. This intransigent opinion was to be relaxed during the course of the war. The losses of German aviation provide evidence of how it became possible for Estonians Latvians, Russians, Norwegians, Danes, French, Belgians and others to enter the exclusive ranks of German aircrew. They are found in all units, fighter, night-harassment, bomber, etc. Despite understandable desertions at the war’s end, it is nonetheless clear that the greater part of these foreign volunteers died alongside their German colleagues before the final collapse of the IIIrd Reich.

The reasons why foreign volunteers chose to serve in the Luftwaffe are simple to understand; a desire for adventure, idealism, love of flying, fascination with modern technology, political convictions and even as a profession (it may have been seen as training and preparation for a post-war career in civil aviation) Another important element was the fear of ending up as an infantryman on the eastern front. This was the lot of most Estonians, Latvians and the French from Alsace-Lorraine who having been incorporated into the Reich were then automatically enrolled into the Wehrmacht. Fear of foot service in the East was undeniably a factor for prospective foreign aircrew. In view of all this and of the skills and capabilities demanded of aircrew, it is becomes clear why those of a mercenary disposition, attracted to military service merely for the pay, are not found among the ranks of aircrew. This is also true of the four Dutch volunteers whose tales are related below.


KLAAS VISSER
Klaas Visser was born on 24th December 1921 in Amsterdam; the son of a shopkeeper/delivery driver. He attended school from 1927 to 1936. Then his schooling was interrupted and he worked fulltime in his parent’s shop, whilst attending evening classes through to 1937. In September 1942 for reasons which remain unknown he volunteered for active service in a German unit which also remains unidentified. Whatever, in a CV signed by him on 10 July 1943 he states being employed as a chauffeur in Berlin. His military ID states that he was attached to aerodrome A 9/VII, namely Crailsheim. On 20 March 1943 he concluded basic training at Fliegerregiment 51 and was posted on 1 June 1943 to 6/Fl.Rgt.90. He was subsequently assigned on 1944 to 9/NJG.1 His engagement seems to have come as a shock to his family, as he wrote in his CV. ‘My relationship with my parents, my brothers and sisters and my friends is not good in view of my voluntary service in the Wehrmacht’

Perhaps Visser was thinking of reversing his choice – but this would prove to be out of the question. His voluntary Luftwaffe service was not to be terminated by a voluntary retirement! In September 1944 in regard to the fast advancing allies, NJG 1 had to abandon its bases in Belgium & Netherlands. III/NJG 1 reached Fritzlar via Werl and Krefeld. Visser was allocated to a crew as gunner (3). On the evening of 12 December 1944, Bf 110G-4 G9+OT (Werknummer 440135) with Flieger Hans Apel (pilot) Unteroffizier Walter Trenck and our Gefreiter Visser took off on a sortie. That night Essen was the RAF’s target – during which they dropped more than 2354 tonnes of bombs on the town. G9+OT was engaged and destroyed by an allied night-fighter. Trenck and Apel survived (4) but Visser was killed near Dorsten. The young Dutch volunteer is buried in the local cemetery of Marl-Brassert.

WILLEM EDUARD DE GRAAF
De Graaf, an experienced and competent KLM pilot would prove to have more of a chance. He was born on 11th January 1908 in Soekaboemi (Netherlands East Indies) His father originated from the Netherlands, his mother was Indonesian. He joined KLM in 1926 to become an aeronautical engineer. From October 1930 through to the start of 1933 he was in the service of the LVA so as to obtain his military pilot’s brevet (in 1931) and his B brevet (in 1933) As of May 1st 1933 he was appointed a co-pilot on KLM’s European and Asian routes. It is most probable that, during this period, he experienced rebuffs or prejudices due to his appearance and background and these accordingly may have influenced his attitude.



After the invasion of his country De Graaf became an adherent of the NSB and was accepted with no problems. (perhaps understandable in view of the close links between the mother country and her colonies). De Graaf’s choice perhaps can be explained with simple ‘belonging’ psychology: that of being a ‘half-caste’ who was always viewed as an ‘outsider’ by the ‘Dutch’ – then becoming a fully accepted member of the party which collaborated with the Germans.

In 1942 he applied to join the Luftwaffe and was eagerly accepted despite his ancestry not exactly complying with ‘Aryan’ requirements. In April this member of the ‘old brigade’ found himself in the 4th recruit company of Fliegerausbildungsregiment 42 in Salzwedel. But he soon left this ‘boy’s unit ’ to serve as a delivery pilot between an aircraft factory in Leipzig and Rangsdorf airfield. In 1943 he was with the celebrated Versuchsverband des ObdL. This was an elite unit carrying out special missions and dropping agents behind enemy lines. This posting proves in itself the obvious capabilities of the Dutch-Indonesian pilot, and the confidence placed in him by his superiors. On November 3rd 1943 he received a serious leg injury when his B-71 (Czech licence-built Tupolev SB2) DR+PG Werknummer 230 crashed in the northern Crimea. His injuries kept him from the front for some months.

In February 1944 the Versuchsverband des ObdL was incorporated into the equally renowned KG 200 and De Graaf and his comrades performed many more audacious and secret missions as Kommando Maria of I./KG200. Flying diverse aircraft, often captured types, they would ensure agents were dropped close as possible to targets before leaving them. Willem Eduard De Graaf survived to 1945 when he was trained to fly jet fighters. After Germany capitulated he went undercover for a period in Germany itself before reaching South America. At this point all trace of him was lost (7).

JOHANNES ANTONIUS KUHN
Johannes Antonius Kuhn. Born in Amsterdam on 15th November 1908 was destined to survive WW2. Having obtained his pilot’s brevet in 1932, he was applied in 1937 for a six-year posting to the KNIL. He was accepted on August 14th. In the colony the reserve NCO flew Martin 139 bombers, but in 1938 he was repatriated due to health problems related to the tropical climate. En 1939 he re-engaged for service in the ML. He started with the unit I-2 LvR (equipped with Fokker C-V & Koolhoven FK-51) before progressing at the end of 1939 to V-2 LvR (a fighter unit) to re-train as a fighter pilot. At the start of 1940 he was the pilot of a Douglas DB-8A. The Netherlands had 28 of these aircraft. It is amazing that they were in service as fighters as they were designed as two-seat bombers. A shortage of fighter aircraft had forced the Dutch to take this drastic measure. Kuhn’s (nicknamed ‘Bulletje’ by his colleagues on account of his short stature) involvement in the May 1940 actions was to be brief. On the 1oth May his DB-8A N° 392 was shot down near Pijnacker (probably by a Bf 110 of II./ZG1) Kuhn and his radio-operator NCO Staal were able to leave the machine but Kuhn suffered serious injury to a knee as a result of the crash landing. This meant long months of recuperation in hospital which then followed. In 1942 he was regarded as fully recovered and discharged on 15th October, having been declared as unsuitable for flying duties. That same year he applied to join the Luftwaffe. What was his motivation? In 1944 during interrogation by the British he stated that his German fiancée pushed him into making this choice. One suspects that this was purely an excuse.



Anyhow, in view of his prolonged absence from flying, the Luftwaffe were not going to let him escape the need for re-training! From October 1942 through to April 1943 he was at Flieger-Ausbildung-Regiment 63 at Toul (F) before moving on to the Flugzeugführerüberprüfungschule at Prenzlau. Subsequently at the start of January 1944 he moved to Schlachtgeschwader 101 (a ground-attack unit equipped with Fw 190 and some Hs 129s) based at Orly (F) After an interlude training at Quedlinburg, the Dutchman was transferred to Überführungsgruppe West, a ferry unit formed in mid-1943to fly new or repaired aircraft from factories to front-line units.

Überführungsgruppe West comprised 4 Geschwader. Kuhn belonged to the third. It Willie recognised that Kuhn had arrived at a bad moment. In the weeks preceding June 6th 1944 the ferry pilots had to accept the risk of allied intruder fighters spoiling for a fight. Many pilots were shot down due to this cause. When the ferried aircraft finally reached the airfields, they were then likely to become targets for allied bombers. After the invasion on D-Day 6th June, Überführungsgruppe West abandoned their advance bases and retreated to within the Reich borders. The quality of the pilots declined rapidly as a result of losses reaching 35/40%! Kuhn was particularly depressed as, being based at Langendiebach, he regularly had to take-off in He IIIs of TG 30 participating in supply flights for the German pockets of resistance on the Atlantic coast.

He decided to desert. To do so he had to wait for a favourable moment, which presented itself on 30th August 1944. On that day he was flying one of fourteen FW 190A8s being sent to reinforce JG 26 at Brussels-Melbroek. Kuhn was flying Werknummer 171747. Time was getting short. At 11:30 he took off for Belgium. He passed Aachen & Ostend and then headed west. Close to the many ships at sea he crossed the North Sea. So as not to run the risk of being shot down by British flak, he did not head for a known aerodrome, but managed to put his aircraft down in open country near Monkton in Kent. It was a good landing and his aircraft suffered only minor damage. It would receive the serial AM230 and would be displayed to the public many times; at Farnborough in 1945 , then going to the Science Museum in London in 1946. It was later scrapped.

As for Kuhn he remained a POW in Great Britain until 1949. In the 1980s he was given a friendly welcome by Dutch military aviation veterans. His peers managed to sponge over his ‘intermezzo’ in the Luftwaffe.

KLAAS VISSER
Klaas Visser was born on 24th December 1921 in Amsterdam; the son of a shopkeeper/delivery driver. He attended school from 1927 to 1936. Then his schooling was interrupted and he worked fulltime in his parent’s shop, whilst attending evening classes through to 1937. In September 1942 for reasons which remain unknown he volunteered for active service in a German unit which also remains unidentified. Whatever, in a CV signed by him on 10 July 1943 he states being employed as a chauffeur in Berlin. His military ID states that he was attached to aerodrome A 9/VII, namely Crailsheim. On 20 March 1943 he concluded basic training at Fliegerregiment 51 and was posted on 1 June 1943 to 6/Fl.Rgt.90. He was subsequently assigned on 1944 to 9/NJG.1 His engagement seems to have come as a shock to his family, as he wrote in his CV. ‘My relationship with my parents, my brothers and sisters and my friends is not good in view of my voluntary service in the Wehrmacht’

Perhaps Visser was thinking of reversing his choice – but this would prove to be out of the question. His voluntary Luftwaffe service was not to be terminated by a voluntary retirement! In September 1944 in regard to the fast advancing allies, NJG 1 had to abandon its bases in Belgium & Netherlands. III/NJG 1 reached Fritzlar via Werl and Krefeld. Visser was allocated to a crew as gunner (3). On the evening of 12 December 1944, Bf 110G-4 G9+OT (Werknummer 440135) with Flieger Hans Apel (pilot) Unteroffizier Walter Trenck and our Gefreiter Visser took off on a sortie. That night Essen was the RAF’s target – during which they dropped more than 2354 tonnes of bombs on the town. G9+OT was engaged and destroyed by an allied night-fighter. Trenck and Apel survived (4) but Visser was killed near Dorsten. The young Dutch volunteer is buried in the local cemetery of Marl-Brassert.

Notes:
1. Including losses inflicted by British & French fighters....
2. It is likely that some listed as ‘aviators’ were actually Luftwaffe drivers or flak crew.
3. Gunners did not need such long training as pilots or radio operators. Often groundcrew flew as gunners
4. A brief respite. Both were later KIA on 21 February 1945
5. This is as amazing as the case of Fleming Guido Rombouts, who joined the Algemeen SS and transferred straight away to the Luftwaffe. Rombout was succesful in achieving his goal although it seems he did not even at the time possess a civil pilot’s licence. He eventually joined JG 1 and was also killed in combat.
6. Other sources (Prien & Rodeike) state Werk-Nr. 27091 and call him <Fw. Dr Johann Vliegner > – some Dutchman!
7. Perhaps, like many others, he intended becoming a civil airline pilot in S. America