As well as glamorous visits there were
nasty accidents too. RAF Tempsford was not the only airfield in Bedfordshire.
There were others at Cranfield, Little Staughton, Shefford, Poddington,
Thurleigh and Twinwood. Great Gransden, Abbotsley, Steeple Morden and
Bassingbourn airfields in Cambridgeshire were not far away either. It is
surprising that there were not more near misses and aircraft crashes. Under the
Official Secrets Act not a lot of official information was released so there
are conflicting details about the incidents. In Freddie Clark’s Agents by
Moonlight he used both squadron records to detail the aircraft losses
between 1941 and 1945.
Within a fortnight of the first crews
arriving on the base in December 1941 Flight Sergeant (F/S) A. Reimer, the
Canadian pilot of a Whitley Z9385, was returning from an op in bad weather when
he was attacked by a Messerschmidt 110. His ‘plane
caught fire but he managed to get it back to base only to crash on the
airfield. Three of his crew were killed and he died a fortnight later.
Mont Bettles recalls that whilst building
work was still going on a Wellington, coming in low from the west over
Tempsford village, caught the telegraph wire alongside the railway line and
crashed into bushes in the field about 200 yards from the runway. It didn’t
catch fire. He wondered if the pilot had been ordered not to crash on the
concrete. As he mentioned that the wires had all been lowered to make it easier
for pilots to clear them, if there had been a passing train it would have been
taken out! The following day a group of
R.A.F. personnel arrived at his father’s farm asking permission to walk over
his fields near the railway. Mont wondered if the pilot had jettisoned
important packages before the crash.
In the early months of 1942 at Tempsford
Wing Commander Hockey took one of the pilots, S/L Romanoff on several
unofficial sorties as a second pilot and arranged his transfer as a flight
commander. On his first flight as captain, Romanoff crashed his Whitley Z9125.
He and four crew members were killed and one escaped injured. In the Daily
Telegraph’s Second Book of Obituaries it detailed the incident.
Hockey,
in the tower, dashed for a van and then ran across ploughed fields to the
burning wreckage, only to arrive as ammunition grenades and other explosives
went up.
Thrown
some 40 yards, he returned to the blaze and managed to extricate the rear
gunner, who was the sole survivor. Hockey recovered, although he carried
splinters all over his body for the rest of his life.
On 22nd June 1942 Sgt. W. Smith
of 161 Squadron crashed his Whitley Z9224 on take-off as a result of a faulty
ASI [Air Speed Indicator]. There were no injuries but the aircraft was written
off and he was commissioned a week later.
Unfortunately, he was killed four months later when, on 22nd
October, his Whitley BD228 crashed on the airfield and it burst into flames.
One crew escaped with serious injuries but the other three got out with minor
cuts and bruises. Throughout 1942 the Squadrons lost 35 ‘planes, including 24
Whitleys, three Lysanders and eight Halifaxes.
Peter Wisson, a student at Everton School
during the war, recalls being taken to the site of a crash in 1942 or 1943 by a
large hedge at the foot of the Greensand Ridge about 400 yd (365 m) north of St
Mary’s Church. All the wreckage had been removed but there had been a serious
fire. This could have the crash witnessed by Mont Bettles who recalled a
twin-engined Hudson in trouble over Mr Barker’s Coldharbour Farm. It blew up
before it hit the ground and crashed at the bottom of the hill.
In February 1943 Wing Commander Ken Batchelor arrived to take command of 138 Squadron. He had
flown with Bomber Command serving in No. 9 Squadron. He later commanded 311
Bomber Squadron which had a large contingent of Czechoslovakian refugee pilots.
The first accident at the base that year was not until 13th April.
F/O A. Cussen of 161 Squadron was doing air tests in a Halifax DG409 when the
port inner engine failed during take-off. The undercarriage collapsed when the
aircraft swung and it was written off. No injuries were reported.
A month later F/Lt. J. Bartrum of 161
Squadron was using a Lysander R9106 for a training flight when it stalled, crashed and caught fire. The Station Sick Quarter
records show that he died of multiple injuries but there was no mention of
other casualties. This could have been another of the crashes Mont Bettles
witnessed. Although he said it might have been May or June 1943 he saw a
Lysander doing some stunts to the west of the railway line. It was diving from
the north at great speed towards the railway crossing when it stalled, couldn’t
get out of the dive and crashed into the field next to the large hangar just
northeast of the level crossing. He was told by aircrew that the pilot
shouldn’t have died as the fire engine with modern equipment did not get to the
scene quickly enough to get him out of the flames.
David Taverner’s father recalled maybe the
same incident when, after a plane crashed and burst into flames, the
fire-fighters in their asbestos suits tried unsuccessfully to rescue the
trapped crew members. Their screams still haunted him.
On 19th June during a training
flight Wireless Operator S. Klosowski of the Polish Air Force flying with 138 Squadron
crash landed his Halifax W1229 in cross winds. No one was injured but the
‘plane was written off. Three days later he took another Halifax DT727 up on a
training flight with two other members of the Polish Air Force but it crashed
into a hangar when he was attempting a three-engine landing. Again there were
no injuries but the ‘plane was a write off. Another Halifax DG253 was written
off on 19th August when P/O K. Brown of 138 Squadron returned to
base 15 minutes early. There had been a strong smell of petrol coming from the
bomb bay fuel tank. He landed too fast, ran off the end of the runway and
crashed into scrubland. No one was injured and he was up again the following
night. Three weeks later another Halifax DK232 was lost when F/Lt. S. Gray of 161
Squadron swung on take-off onto the grass and ran over a sodium flare. The
undercarriage collapsed. Only one of his five crew was
injured.
The most serious losses of the entire war
were in 1943 just before Christmas. The weather that month was appalling. On 16th/17th
December six Halifaxes, three from each squadron, were lost in thick fog. They
crashed whilst trying to land at an emergency airfield at Woodbridge in
Suffolk. On the same night two Lysanders crashed in the fog returning to
Tangmere with the loss of both pilots and two of the four agents. On 19th
December nine men from 138 Squadron were killed when Sgt. H. Williams’ Halifax
BB364 collided with one of the chimneys at Henlow brickworks on a training
flight. It brought the number of ‘planes lost that year to 62. More than one a
week and nearly double the previous year must have been a grave worry. They
included 52 Halifaxes, six Lysanders, two Lancasters, a Hudson and a Liberator.
With so many Halifaxes being lost the Short
Stirlings were brought in to replace them. When the Americans arrived at
Tempsford they brought the Liberators with their accompanying US and Canadian
ground and aircrew. Lancaster bombers were brought in as well. Three of the
latter belonging to 617 Squadron flew from Tempsford on Special Duties to
France on 8th December 1943. Wing Commander Leonard Cheshire was
said not to have been pleased when two of them failed to return three days
later.
One Sunday afternoon, 8th
January 1944, two ‘planes, an American and a British, were reported as
“chasing” each other. The latter, a Halifax LK743, ‘J for Johnny’, coming in
low and overloaded with 10 on board, could not clear the highest clump of trees
and crashed into one of the cottages in front of Tetworth Hall. The ‘plane and the house caught fire. The tenant, Fred Gore,
was killed but his wife, Miriam, his sister-in-law and Mr H.J. Waddington
escaped. All that was left of the house was a burnt chimney stack. Mr
Waddington managed to get help at the nearest farmhouse. The captain, W.O.
Kennedy of 138 Squadron, all his seven crew and three members of the resistance
were killed. Maybe the number of accidents and the public’s interest in the
secrecy of the rescue operations led to a growing awareness of the role of the
Special Duties Squadrons. The Daily Telegraph carried a story with the
headline ‘Allied ‘planes Secret Landings in France’ on 9th February
1944.
Two months later P/O E. Edwards of 218
Squadron wrote off a Stirling EE944 when he over shot the runway on a
three-engine landing. A similar accident occurred on 23rd May when
the tyre of F/Lt. J. Perrins’ Halifax DG286 burst on take-off. The aircraft
swung and the undercarriage collapsed. No one was injured. A week later a
Halifax LL300 under maintenance in one of the hangars caught fire. The fire
crew could not save it in time. Another Halifax LL284, piloted by F/L Hugh
Stiles DFC of 138 Squadron, came down three minutes after take-off at dusk on 2nd
June near Sandy Hills. He lost his port inner engine at a height of only 100 ft
(30 m) but landed it skilfully in the fields behind the lodge on Sandy Road.
Counterfeit coins were found scattered everywhere. The aircraft caught fire and
five of his crew escaped with serious injuries.
The problem of the aircraft swinging was
experienced by not just officers, sergeants and flight lieutenants. The day
after D-Day, 7th June 1944, 138 S/L Brogan wrote off his Halifax
LL390 when it swung on take-off. Not to be outdone on 1st August 161
S/L R. Wilkinson swung on landing and crashed into buildings. No one was
injured in either of these two incidents. The following month F/O A. Spencer of
161 Squadron wrote off a Stirling LK208 in the same way. Stirlings had a very
successful record but 1944 was a bad year.
Pilot Officer Bill Frost reported he and friend’s narrow escape in an accident involving F/Lt.
R. Levy, DFC, RNZAF and the rest of his crew in Stirling LK207. Their crew had
completed 24 operations with only one more to go.
We had transferred to 161 Squadron from 138
Squadron after my commission had come through. I was acting as Gunnery Leader
the day that Alan Levy, the Pilot, came to my flight office to say he was
taking up a new Stirling on Air Test and would I like to join him. I had never missed any flight with him
but this was an aircraft belonging to another crew who were on leave and I
declined to go saying I might be needed. I was thinking particularly of the
half-finished letter to my parents that was overdue. Alan collected the rest of
the crew except for Tony the Navigator because navigators, like Mid-Upper
Gunners, were not essential on Air test. I saw them go. The aircraft, new from
the factory, climbed away and Alan started air test manoeuvres. Suddenly the
tail, including the gun turret, broke away and the aircraft fell to the ground,
narrowly missing the local school at Potton and all the crew were killed.
Jim Breeze provided further details. He
stated that the ‘plane exploded in the sky over Everton and crashed near the
school’s playground.
After
the clearance of the fog on the morning of the 19th October several
crews were airborne on local flights, and it was while returning from one of
these flights that F/L Levy and some of his crew lost their lives. On his
approach to the airfield witnesses heard a sudden change in engine noise,
looking towards the ridge they saw the aircraft at about 2,000 ft. [609 m]
below cloud suddenly lose the whole of its tail section, the front part
crashing into a field near the village of Potton, killing all on board. The
aircraft was LK 207 ‘MA-W’ and it was obvious from the wreckage that it had
suffered structural failure of the rear fuselage just forward of the tailplane.
Reports in the Biggleswade Chronicle
told a similar story but of a crash over a week earlier. Was it the same event
from another witness or another crash? It stated that on 10th
October 1944 a ‘plane “disintegrated 11 minutes after takeoff”. Freddie Clark
stated that Levy was only in the air ten minutes. This would have taken it a
long way from the airfield unless it was in trouble and turned back. A heavy
landing had been reported five days earlier and the aircraft placed under
suspicion.. The pilot managed to steer clear of Potton
School before crashing near Deepdale. One task undertaken during an air test
was to put the ‘plane through a corkscrew, a roll over. Unfortunately, the
stress on the fuselage caused by the ‘Joe hole’ being cut out caused it to
fracture and the the tail to break off - with tragic results!
In 1944 Peter Wisson witnessed an accident
in the playground of Everton School during his afternoon break.
The
weather was bright with high broken cloud. We first noticed the aeroplane high
in the sky to the east at an elevation of 80 degrees. It was in a vertical
spinning dive. It was not on fire and did not appear to be damaged, but I do
not recall hearing any engine noise. It seemed to be falling for ages but
suddenly it hit the ground and a large cloud of black smoke rose up from the
direction of Potton. It was a twin-engine aeroplane with a single tail fin. We
saw no parachutes emerge from the aeroplane. A day or two later I was taken to
see a crashed aeroplane along the Potton to Sandy Road. The aeroplane was badly
damaged but I do remember the tail was fairly intact and it had a single fin.
The crash location is on the right of the Potton-Sandy
Road, about 50 yards from the road, to the west of the recreation ground midway
between two detached houses, map reference 213493. I assumed this was the
aeroplane which I saw crash.
The year 1944 saw the loss of 56 aeroplanes
including 33 Halifaxes, 11 Stirlings, six Lysanders and six Hudsons. The next
year, the last of the war, had the least number of losses. Jim Breeze described
the third Stirling that year, LK 236 ‘MA-Y’, from 161 Squadron going down on 14th
February. As the event was shrouded with secrecy it was only in recent years
that research in the Imperial War Museum’s records has allowed the truth to
come out. F/O Eric Timperley and his six crew were returning from bombing
practice on the Wash in murky conditions when at 14.15 hrs it was ‘buzzed’ by a
P51 Mustang of the 383 Fighter Squadron USAAF. A witness saw it go up through a
gap in the clouds and make “an unauthorised pass”. It flew too close and hit
the Stirling’s tail. Both aircraft went out of control. Part of the American
‘plane came down in houses immediately behind the old Fire Station in Cambridge
Road, Sandy and part hit the Sand Hills, above the town. Fred Punter who
witnessed the event as a young boy in Sandy stated that the American pilot, Lt.
T.W. Kiley, bailed out but, being so low, his chute failed to open. He landed
feet first and sunk in the sand up to his waist. His plane landed on top of him
and burst into flames. The Stirling dived into a field near the present day
site of Sandy television mast. The tail landed in woods behind the petrol dump.
F/O Timperley and six of his crew were killed. They included two Australians,
F/S Bill Saunders and F/O G.C. Wiggins from the RAAF. Parts were unearthed in
gardens behind Peels Place in Sandy. That was the last ‘plane to crash at
Tempsford but that year eight Stirlings were lost and six Hudsons.
A near miss was reported by Mont Bettles
when he had just got his milk cart across Everton level crossing and was
watching ‘planes landing and taking off on the northern runway towards
Highfield Farm. He was surprised to see a Lysander coming down to land but
which seemed stationary. As it got larger he realised it was coming right at
him and very low. He remembered the grins of the pilot and crew as it flew over
his head just before his horses shied and bolted, overturning the cart. He fell
out and often wondered whether the milk in the rolling churns had turned to
butter by the time he got it to the Officers’ Mess.
Another story told by Mont Bettles was of a
lady reporting seeing a crash on the top of Everton Hill. Two R.A.F. pilots got
out of the wreckage but also two men in German uniforms. Gwen Sharpe, a
Gamlingay woman, recalled how a Halifax, in the early hours of a Sunday
morning, came in low in front of her house, Low Farm and hit the trees at the
side of Weavely Wood. The tail section broke off in the tree tops, the rest
fell to the ground in flames. One man escaped who walked along the farm track
and was met by a special constable, Mr Howkins. He was taken to Green Man Farm.
Gwen Sharpe’s brother, a member of the Home Guard, cycled over to find out what
had happened and was met by a hail of bullets! Her father and neighbour arrived
by car but there was nothing they could do. The fire engine coming up from
Tempsford had to go back for a second load of water to put out the fire. It
worried her father to see the pilot sitting in the fire. They couldn’t account
for all the personnel but by daylight the rear gunner was still in the tail
section up the tree. A container was also missing, a search was made and, given
the security, one has to presume it was found. The Home Guard were sworn to
secrecy that night and they didn’t tell until after the war.
She also recalls working at the potato pit
at Low Farm and seeing a trainer ‘plane loop the loop. When it tried a second
time she saw that it could not possibly succeed and it crashed at New Farm,
Tetworth. The instructor was killed and the learner escaped with a broken leg.
Another story was of one of the earlier crashes where one Sunday afternoon she
was feeding poultry and saw a fighter ‘plane coming over and exploding. She saw
pieces fall away. The pilot’s parachute failed to open and the ‘plane crashed
by the roadside near Highfield Farm. (TL 206553) It didn’t burn.
Gordon Dunning who survived a crash recalls
the same event in late-1944 when a Halifax III crash landed at Great Barford.
They were trying to get practice at how to fly running on only three engines.
The pilot stretched behind him to cut the fuel off to one engine but cut off
both on one wing. The ‘plane spiralled down but luckily
...coming
down in a field full of Land Girls picking potatoes or similar - none of the girls were injured but,
unfortunately our Bomb Aimer, Flying Officer ‘Nick’ Carter was killed in the
crash... We carried no Navigator or Dispatcher that day as we were flying a
local Air test prior to operating that night, and two of the engines on one
wing cut out through lack of fuel! Needless to say we were collected quickly by
the Station Medical team, transported back to Tempsford, sent up straight away
in a new aircraft after a medical examination, provided with a ‘spare’ Bomb
Aimer, Sergeant E. Zwicker, and flew on operations the same night with our
regular crew... The Squadron Commanders didn’t give people time to brood or
lose their nerve after a crash -
it was ‘up again’ immediately and back to operational activity without delay.
Freddie Clark recalled a terrible night in
1944 when his Halifax, K – King, was in operation during a heavy snow shower
southwest of Orleans. After four attempts he made a successful drop and made
haste for home feeling sorry for the reception committee. Apart from getting to
the DZ to set it up, they had to collect the containers and packages, dispose
of them and the parachutes and tidy up the site for the next drop; all during a
curfew and under the noses of the enemy. These faceless persons were the true
heroes of the hour. He detailed his landing the following morning.
Ten
minutes from base, over the W/T, I heard the chatter of other aircraft asking
Tempsford for a turn to land. It seemed a good time to reserve my place
otherwise we would be out here all night. I switched on my face microphone,
pressed the transmission button on the control wheel and said “Hello,
Brasstray, Goldchain ‘K’ King, my turn to land please, over” [Brasstray was the
control tower code and Goldchain the 138 Squadron code - author] A cheerful female voice came over
my headphones, “Goldchain ‘K’ King this is Brasstray, your turn to land 4 out.”
We had timed it nicely; the speed was down to 140 mph [224 kmph]. When we
reached the airfield Drem lights and instructions came from the control tower. “Goldchain ‘K’ King, your turn to land number one, over.” I
acknowledged, checked with Ron that the aerial was in, reminded Kit, Eric and
Ron to move out of the nose and take up their landing positions, Eric set up
the jump seat beside me and strapped himself in. The
main runway lights ran down the edge of the port wing tip and I advised
‘Goldchain’ that we were now downwind, and selected ‘undercarriage down’ which
rumbled out of its housings beneath the inboard engines. A small light on an
instrument in front of me turned from red to green. Mixture controls to rich
and airscrews to fully fine – just in case I made a ‘cock-up’ of the landing
and had to go round again. Down with half flap, push the nose forward to
counter the tendency for the aircraft to gain height, all trims to neutral and
turn into the wind. The runway lights appeared, stretching out before me and
the glide path indicator blinking green, beckoned me
to the ground. Slowly back on the throttles, speed down to 100 mph [160 kmph],
down with the rest of the flap. Over the runway threshold, throttles fully
back, gently back on the pole. She bounced, protesting that the air was her
domain, then settled, the tail wheel touching a moment
later. We ran fast between runway lights, streaming white either side of us,
and a touch of squealing brakes finally slowed us to a halt. I moved the
throttles of the inboard motors forward, the inertia
generated by the airscrews taxyed us down the remaining length of the runway.
We turned off and I raised the flaps, pressed the button on the control wheel
and said into the microphone, “Brasstray, Goldchain ‘K’ King landed,
goodnight.” “Goodnight ‘K’ King” the WAAF replied.
We
moved slowly between coloured taxy lights, the aircraft gently bouncing on her
hydraulics, the phosphorescent-lit instrument needles dancing as we ran over
each bump, the engines murmuring. Two torches penetrating the darkness
signalled me to come ahead. A change in the signal pattern instructed me to
turn right. I pushed the rudder bar to the right, opened up the port outer
motor and squeezed the brake intermittently to avoid turning on a static wheel.
The aircraft slowly responded and amid protesting squeals from the starboard
brake turned a half circle facing the direction from which we had just come. I
carried out the shutting procedure, finally the fuel cocks are closed and
ignition switches were flicked to ‘Off’ and the four-bladed airscrews rotated
slowly to a halt. Above the unaccustomed silence there was the clatter of
movement from inside the aircraft. I unstrapped myself, unfastened the last
umbilical cords of oxygen and radio – I was free. Eric was already out of his
seat. From its stowage bin I grabbed my parachute, made my way down the silent
black hull and left by the rear door. A voice outside asked if everything was
OK – I said it was. We had been in the air 6 hours 50 minutes and had landed at
03.55 hrs. Apart from visibility problems caused by snow over the DZ it had
been an uneventful and successful first Op.
We
climbed into a waiting crew bus which took us back to where we had started –
the briefing room door. We entered and put our flying gear onto a table. The
station Padre welcomed us with a steaming cup of coffee laced with brandy and a
large wedge of fruitcake on a plate. He was always there to meet us crews no
matter what time we landed. Once I told him how much it was appreciated and
asked him why he did it. He said a mother lost her son and had written to him;
he realised he had never known the boy. Thereafter he met every crew member on
their return to make sure he knew them.
Losing colleagues in action was a terrible
blow. The loss of so many of the pilots and crew in accidents was devastating
to those who survived. E. P. Richardson, the Padre in July 1944, wrote to the
family of F/L Ian Menzies a sympathetic and empathetic message when he was shot
down over Holland. “I have known your son ever since he has been on this
station and, with all those who knew him, have grown to admire the splendid
qualities of his character”. In Adrian Lee’s article in a local paper about the
post-war reunions for those associated with Tempsford Airfield which were held
at the barn on ‘Gib’ Farm he added that
...Unlike
other bomber Squadrons Tempsford often suffered heavy losses and it was
impossible for the surviving crews to shrug off the deaths of companions. “It
did have an effect on you if there were heavy losses,” says Monty, [a veteran
of the base] “You couldn’t look at it straight and sometimes I asked myself
when my time was coming. But I think the people who suffered most were the WAAF
drivers who had to take the crews out to the airplanes - they seemed to know everybody.
Their contribution of the aircrews was
acknowledged in an undated contemporary newspaper cutting: “Aircrew are the
cream of the country, and the lads at Tempsford are the cream of the aircrew”.
In the graveyard of St Mary’s Church in Everton are six well-kept war graves.
There were seven but one Canadian was disinterred to be buried in his hometown.
The others are: -
R/78532 LDG Aircraftman A. M. Galbraith,
RCAF, 26th March 1942, aged 25, ‘At the going down of the sun and in
the morning we will remember them’.
352613 F/S E. M. Fletcher, RAF, 6th
June 1942, aged 38, ‘Tho lost to sight to memory dear thou ever wilt remain.
1385168 Sergeant A. Christie, Pilot, RAF, 30th November 1942, aged
26, ‘Sleep on beloved, Sleep and take thy rest’.
1167643 Sergeant L. E. Neary, Air Gunner,
RAF, 19th December 1942, aged 22, ‘For our country’.
P/O
I. M. Wilson, Navigator, RCAF, 25th January 1943, aged 25.
1371493 Sergeant
R. Macauley, Air Gunner, RAF, 19th December 1942, ‘Always
remembered’.