A Night to Remember (Part 2 of 4)

“OK chaps, here we go!” Left hand on the control column, feet on the rudder pedals and the four big throttle levers in my right hand are eased forward leading with the left engines to counteract the swing, keep her straight with the runway, the deep throated roar envelops us. A bit of right rudder, that‘s it.. Ease the stick forward, get the tail up, that’s it! The rudder is beginning to respond now, keep her straight, that’s it! Throttles go forward “Full Power!” The Flight Engineer takes over the throttles and pushes them right forward “Full Power Skip”. Both hands on the control column now, keep her straight, aircraft is throbbing, the roar from the four engines is deafening. Airspeed is building, “60, 80, 90mph“ .is called out by the Flight Engineer. The runway roars past but the full massive weight of 2000gallons of fuel and six tons of bombs makes itself felt through the controls and the end of the runway gets nearer and nearer. If one engine fails now we would run off the end and the whole lot would blow up and leave a nasty big hole in the ground. “100, 110, 115, 120mph calls the Flight Engineer, gently ease back on the control column and all the rumbling and shaking stops, and we are airborne, just in time to see the end of the runway slide away underneath. “Airborne 21.34hrs Navigator” “ 21.34hrs Skip”. Phew! L ‘love’ would have made a better job of it
than that!
A touch on the brakes to stop the wheels spinning and “Undercarriage up” “Undercarriage Up” responds the Flight Engineer. The heavy aircraft begins to slowly gain speed and height. Three hundred feet and the familiar trees and village houses slip away underneath the upturned faces of village friends wishing us a safe return. “Flaps up to 10 degrees” she gains a bit more speed, “OK Flaps all the way up”, “Flaps right up Skip”. Trim nose up, now she seems to be ‘flying’ as the airspeed builds to our climbing speed of 175mph. One thousand feet “Reduce power to 2850, +9”, “2850, +9 Skip” and we slowly turn onto our heading for Skegness of 135Compass. “Pilot to Navigator on 135Compass”, “OK Skip, ETA Skegness at 41”, “Roger”. The higher we climb the brighter it gets and now the low setting sun glistens on our Perspex and that of the swarm of Lancasters that are gathering around us and all going our way. The sky ahead is a deep indigo with the oncoming night and the coastline is just visible in the grey mist below. Another crew check and everybody is OK except Smithy the rear gunner who can’t see a thing with the setting sun in his eyes I tell him not to look at it in case it spoils his night vision. We shall need all the good eyes we can muster to look out for enemy fighters and to avoid collisions with friendly aircraft in the dark. “Navigator to Pilot, we’re running about a minute ahead”, “OK Nav we’ll slow up a bit, make it 160mph”

“Pilot to Navigator, she’s climbing about 300 feet a minute which should put us about 18,000ft at the Dutch coast”, “OK Pilot I’ll just check”. “Bombaimer to Pilot, Skegness is just coming up now, dead ahead”, “OK Bombaimer tell us when we are right over it”, “OK Skipper” Onward we drone and slowly the night settles in, the sun has gone now and the instruments take on that familiar green fluorescent glow. “Bombaimer to Pilot, we’re right over Skegness now”, “Right Bombaimer, that’s Skegness at 44 Navigator” “OK Skipper that’s fine, turn onto 128Compass”, “128Compass it is Navigator”.
The sky grows steadily darker “Pilot to gunners, keep your eyes peeled for friendly aircraft and enemy fighters, the stream is beginning to bunch up now and it will soon be completely dark”, “ Rear Gunner, OK Skip”, “Midupper OK Skipper” With a steady drone we climb into the darkness as the outside world fades away with the cold, now invisible, sea two and a half miles below. It’s warm in this part of the aircraft and one could begin to feel that the rest of the world doesn’t exist, just this cocoon of metal with the instruments glowing comfortably on the instrument panel. With this false sense of protection and with the steady drone of the engines one could easily be lulled off to sleep. “Lancaster, starboard bow, same level Skip”, “OK Bombaimer I see him” The call quickly shakes me out of my cosy feeling and I make some adjustments to avoid him. It’s not healthy to creep up behind another aircraft, a twitchy rear gunner is likely to think you are an enemy fighter and give you the benefit of his four Brownings and it would seem such a waste to be shot down by a friendly aircraft.
“Navigator to Pilot, ETA Dutch coast at 34”, “Pilot to Navigator ROGER Dutch Coast at 34, I’m holding 128 Compass, Air Speed 160”, “Nav to Pilot the G’s good and we’re bang on track”, “ Pilot to Engineer, engines look OK, how’s the fuel consumption?”, “Engineer to Pilot it looks OK so far Skip”. Onward and upwards we drone though the dark, chill, space of night, checking this and that and searching the blackness outside for the slightest smudge of blacker black, which might be another aircraft on a collision course.

Onward and upward the steady drone goes on with the regular scan of the instruments and the night outside punctuated at regular intervals by the crew check. Everybody fully occupied with their own job and their own deep inner thoughts. The Special Operator back there in the fuselage is busy with his cathode-ray tube searching the frequencies for directions to German Night Fighters from their controllers so that he can jam them with one of his three transmitters.

“Searchlights and flak ahead on the port bow Skipper!” “OK bombaimer, it looks like somebody has wandered off to port of track and is getting a reception from Rotterdam. Are we on track Navigator?” “Navigator to Pilot, the G says we’re bang on and the signal’s pretty good so far” “Good show! Navigator”.”Pilot to Bombaimer, see if you can get a fix on
the Dutch coast, it should be just about visible and we should be there in three minutes” “OK Skip”. “Pilot to Gunners, keep your eyes open chaps, it looks as though they know we’re coming now”.”Midupper, OK Skip” “Rear Gunner, OK Skipper” “ Pilot to Special, any activity in your department yet?” “ Hello Skipper, Special here, no, it all seems quite quiet at the moment, no doubt it will liven up soon” “OK Special, keep us informed”
My eyes sweep the green glowing instruments, again and again, then into the inky black sky, all OK, - just saw another sparkle of exploding anti-aircraft fire ahead. It looks quite pretty from here, but it won’t when we get nearer.
“ Bombaimer to Skipper, I can just see the Dutch coast coming up now, I’ll give you a fix when we cross----------now! 34 and a half on the tip of Overflakkee and I’m glad that it’s not living up to it’s name at the moment” “So am I Bombaimer, it all looks very quiet, that could mean that there are Jerry Night Fighters about, keep your eyes open Gunners” “Pilot to Navigator, did you get that?” “OK Skip, we’re on track and 30 seconds late. Turn onto one zero two Compass, ETA Turning Point is on the hour”. “Roger, Navigator one zero two Compass and on the hour”.

Over occupied territory now and right over a whole nest of German Night Fighter airfields, but so far all seems to be quiet, time for another crew check, all OK. I slowly become conscious of a beat developing in the steady drone of the engines as they become slightly unsynchronised, a quick check of the engine instruments shows that the starboard inner has dropped a few revs. The Flight Engineer leans forward, he has spotted it too, he checks the Boost and temperature gauges and gives me a thumbs-up sign and a shrug of the shoulders. “Could be a little icing in the carb Skip” “OK I’ll adjust the throttles, but keep your eyes on it”. With a slight adjustment of the pitch levers the engines revert to their steady drone.
“Engineer to Pilot, fuel consumption is fine , just changing to number 2 tanks” “OK Engineer”

The monotonous drone is broken by a crackle on the intercom as somebody switches on their microphone. “Navigator to Pilot, we’re about 3miles to port of track alter course to one one zero Compass for the turning point” “Pilot to Navigator, one one zero Compass it is, we’re levelling out at 21000” “OK Skipper 21000, the wind seems to be a bit more southerly up here”-----“ Midupper to Pilot, Lancaster on the starboard beam about 300 feet above us” “OK Midupper, keep you eyes on him, we will probably converge on him with this new heading” “OK Skip” Staring into the black night sky to hold onto a black smudge while you’re searching the blackness for other black smudges which could turn out to be a lot more sinister is very tiring, but if we can spot them first we stand a chance of living.
My eyes are getting tired now and I have to fight off the drowsiness that threatens to engulf me. Onwards into the blackness relieved only by the red glow from the exhaust of the port inner engine. They always seem to be uncomfortably bright on these very dark nights. “Pilot to Navigator, we must be getting close to the turning point now” “ Navigator to Pilot, yes Skipper, only another minute to run, then onto one three six Compass, ETA for next turning point is 38. “Roger Navigator, turning now onto one three six Compass, ETA at 38, Airspeed 190.

Suddenly a bright orange ball of fire lights up the sky about a quarter of a mile on the port beam when a Lancaster and it’s full fuel and bomb load disintegrates. “Some poor sods have bought it Skip”, “Pilot to Midupper, OK we can see it” “Pilot to crew, there was no sign of flak chaps, so that means fighters. Keep you eyes skinned. Navigator, make a note of that on your log.” “ OK Skipper” Onward we drone with the aircraft swinging slightly from side to side as the gunners swing their turrets in their endless searching into the blackness. Eyes staring into the dark sky,…….what’s that?……….a faint patch of light on the port beam.
What the…………? Of course it’s the moon just coming up and behind a patch of cloud. Not a full one tonight, thank God! “Pilot to Rear Gunner, OK?” “ OK Skip, the moon’s just showing up on the Port Beam”, “ Good show, I’m glad you’ve spotted it, keep a good look out to Starboard, we might be silhouetted against that light patch. Midupper?” “OK Skipper” “Pilot to crew, everybody still awake?” “Special OK Skip, there’s quite a bit of fighter activity on the frequencies” “OK Special” “Wireless, you OK” “OK Skip, we just got the broadcast wind and I’ve past it to the Nav” “Navigator’s OK Skip, turn onto 138 Compass, we’re slightly to port of track, the wind has gone round a bit to the west. ETA is still good at 38 for the turning point” “Roger, Navigator, Pilot to Bombaimer, are you OK?” “Bombaimer to Pilot OK, I’m still chucking out this bloody Window!” “OK keep up the good work!” “Ha, Ha!”

Onward into the night we drone, check the heading, the airspeed, the altimeter,………. we’ve gained a couple of hundred feet,………trim the nose down a bit. Must be getting a little lighter as we burn off some fuel. The green glow of the instruments seem so bright now that they seem to be burning into my eyes, it must be past my bed time. How nice it would be to be in bed now, all warm and safe instead of four miles up in the dark over Germany with the Luftwaffer intent on killing you. “Rear Gunner to Pilot, there’s Flak and Searchlights about five miles on the Starboard Quarter” “Pilot to Rear Gunner, Roger, - somebody’s wandered over Cologne I expect”. “It might be a diversionary raid” says the Engineer who is standing next to me, scanning all his engine instruments and writing up his log with the aid of a glow worm of a torch. “Yes, Engineer, let’s hope it works, we’re only about 20 minutes to the target now; engines look happy?” “Yes Skip”. “Navigator to Pilot, we’re running a couple of minutes early, can you cut the speed back to 175?” “Pilot to Navigator Wilco”. Bring back the throttles a bit, trim up the nose, and the airspeed creeps back to 175, a slight adjustment to the pitches and the four big engines resume their regular drone. “Navigator to Pilot, it’s 14 minutes to the turning point then 10.5 minutes to run into the target. “Pilot to navigator, Roger, things will start hotting up soon chaps, ..everybody keep you eyes skinned” “OK Skipper”. “Special to Pilot, There’s a lot more fighter activity now Skipper” “Ok Special, did you hear that chaps? Keep your eyes open Gunners” “Bombaimer to Pilot, it’s all looking very quiet and dark ahead Skipper” “OK Bombaimer, I expect they will be switching on the bright lights for you soon”

“Navigator to Pilot, turning point in one minute, then onto 171 Compass”. “ Roger Navigator, 171 Compass it is”. Only 10 minutes to the target now! You can feel the tension growing, five pair of eyes constantly searching the blackness for a darker patch that may be an enemy fighter or at best another Lancaster on a collision course. It may come from above, or below, fighters usually attack from behind and below, but only the gunners have a chance to see them, so I swing the aircraft slightly from side to side to give them a chance to spot them under our tail.

Eight minutes to the target now and some green TIs (target indicators) start to go down, way out in front and on our starboard bow. That’s right, it must be our target because we have a twenty degree turn to starboard for a short run-up of ten miles to target. “Pilot to Bombaimer, you had better get your gear set up” “Bombaimer to Pilot all set Skipper, they’re beginning to switch on the lights now” “Yes, searchlights and a bit of flak going up now”. Suddenly over to port there is a concentrated load of flak finishing with a bright orange ball of fire as another Lancaster is hit. “Another one’s got the chop Skipper” somebody shouts over the intercom. “Pilot to Mid Upper, if that’s you, OK I saw it” “Pilot to Navigator, log that one, over Frankfurt I guess,” “OK Skipper”

Bombs are beginning to go down over the target now, and I tune into the frequency for the Master Bomber. His voice is just audible over the static saying that the marking is good. Fires are beginning to light the night sky over the target and more flak is coming up ahead. Five minutes to run now, “Pilot to Navigator, turning onto the bombing run now, speed 175” “Nav, OK Skipper” “Pilot to Bombaimer, all set?” “Bombaimer OK Skip, bombs selected” “Pilot to Crew, OK chaps here we go, keep you eyes open, but with this amount of flak coming up I don’t suppose there’s any fighters about”

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