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Page 37...
During the five weeks that I was laid up with malaria, the pilots I had travelled with had been posted to various Kittyhawk or Hurricane squadrons.
When I came out of hospital I was posted to 450 RAAF Squadron, flying Kittyhawks and once again met my two friends Harry and Devon with whom I had trained at Bradfield and in Rhodesia. When I had been posted to the United Kingdom they had gone to the Middle East to convert on to Kittyhawks.
I will never forget my first sight of Cairo. John Upward and I caught a taxi from the embarkation depot on the outskirts of the city and called at Shepherd's Hotel for a quiet drink. We noticed an RAAF pilot with one leg in an iron brace arguing with two South Africans. As the two towered over the Australian, John and I quietly joined them. It was my first meeting with Bobby Gibbes, who was recovering from bailing out of his Kittyhawk in the desert. We resolved the problem with the South Africans and little did I know I would be arranging Bobby's marriage in Darwin three years later and giving a speech at his fiftieth wedding anniversary in later years.
450 Squadron was then operating at a landing ground (LG-91) situated 90 kms behind the line at El Alamein. It was at that stage that the British had stopped the Germans at the narrow neck between the Qattara Depression (a type of salt lake in the south, which could not be crossed as the surface would not support any weight) and the Mediterranean coast in the north.
My drinking mate, John Upward, was sent to 3 Squadron RAAF and was killed in a head-on attack with an ME109 prior to the battle of El Alamein. On 28 July 1942, I commenced a brief conversion on Kittyhawks and after ten hours' flying, on 27 August, I carried out my first dive bombing mission using 500-pound bombs.
My flight commander, John Williams, a champion Manly surfer, was shot down in the desert and became a POW. He was part of the 'Great Escape' from Stalag Luft III and following his re-capture, was shot, by the Gestapo along with 50 others.
I was John's No 2 when I experienced my first 'Stuka Party' - the name used when we scrambled to intercept the German dive bombers. They had played a major role during the early months of the war and were dreaded by the Army. Once the Allies were able to have large numbers of fighters and fighter bombers at their disposal, the Stuka virtually became obsolete.
Page 42...
I set out from El Alamein in the dark, to return to LG81. For illumination, the vehicle had only a small slot on each headlight that acted as a warning to oncoming traffic. The road back to base was well marked and I estimated I had travelled ten miles from El Alamein and was descending a small incline, when my vehicle brushed an oncoming tank which caused the utility to roll upside down off the road. I was proceeding to climb out through the driver's side window when a Yorkshire voice called out not to move as I was in a minefield. Thanks to Army bomb disposal personnel I was taken by a marked path, back to the road and to a tent where I was able to spend the remainder of the night. I was sleeping in the bed of the absent occupant as he was engaged at the El Alamein front. He happened to be a farmer that I knew from Gunnedah in NSW. He was a typical country man and would have been ten years older than me. With his knowledge of repairing and maintaining farm machinery, under the cover of darkness he operated in no mans land, repairing trucks, small tanks, carriers etc, so they could be moved back to our lines.
While attached to 450 we were joined by more American fighter pilots, who had hundreds of hours of flying Kittyhawks but no operational fighter-bomber experience. To train them, a section would fly on a sortie led by the experienced pilots from 450 Squadron. One of the strict conditions on operating at El Alamein was that there was to be no talking on the aircraft radio except in exceptional circumstances. As soon as this occurred, the German ground wireless would identify the location of the Kittyhawks and the Luftwaffe would scramble their Me-109 squadrons.
The amount of navigational aids on a fighter aircraft were limited and one of the most important jobs was to ensure the IFF was operating correctly. The IFF meant 'Identification Friend or Foe' and emitted an electrical impulse, which was then picked up by other aircraft or the base, to identify who was approaching. In that way, friendly aircraft were not accidentally shot down. The compass was also essential for navigation but on trips of around three hours, there was either a Beaufighter or Mosquito escort, to ensure correct navigation.
Despite warning the American pilots of the need for radio silence, on the first day they sounded like actors in an American war film, the result being that Me-109s attacked us and we lost two pilots. Together we complained to the commanding officer that as much as we respected the American contribution to the war effort, their lack of operational flying was exposing us to unnecessary risks. Air Force Headquarters accepted our complaint and the American squadron operated on its own and radio silence was quickly accepted.
That incident illustrated the difference between fighter pilots of the Allied forces. In the early years of the war, fighter pilots went into action sometimes with under 200 hours total flying time. The American pilots had 600 to 1,000 hours total flying hours and were extremely good pilots but that did not necessarily make a good fighter pilot.
Page 50...
I always admired the formation flying of the Baltimore and Havoc bomber crews, as they maintained their formation despite heavy ack-ack from German 88-mm guns and at times one could see the flash of the bursting shells amongst the formation.
On my third operational flight over El Alamein, I was flying number two to the CO, Squadron Ldr. Wedgewood. In conflict with some 109s, after having fired my cannons and machine-guns at some evasive 109s, I became separated from my leader. Suddenly bullets began hitting my aircraft and I temporarily lost control as my aileron had been damaged. This was fortunate as the Spitfire dropped into a cloud and when it emerged the 109s had disappeared. I only obtained a brief glimpse of the German Messerschmitt 109 and the pilot must have been a good shot as he was at the limit of his gun's range. I believe the encounter was with the German ace, Hauptman Hans-Joachim Marseille and I was lucky not to be counted as another of his victories. It was certainly fortunate that as soon as my aileron was damaged the Spitfire commenced to roll and he could not keep me in his sights. As I disappeared into the cloud, he no doubt headed for home base believing he had shot me down.
My aircraft was difficult to maintain in a level flying position and the only way to maintain stability was to fly at my full speed of 200 mph. As I was over enemy lines I headed for my base. As I would have to land wheels-up at 150 mph, I decided to land at a bomber drome where there was a wide strip. The aircraft ploughed along the ground and nearly flipped on its back. I came to rest in the middle of the strip, escaping with no damage to myself and a lesson learned - to be more attentive in the air. That illustrated how important it was during the first 20 combat missions, to attain experience under combat conditions. The CO told me to be more attentive, to fly close to the leader, watch for enemy aircraft and jump into action as soon as enemy aircraft were sighted.
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