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An outline of the various stages in the training and developments of bomber crews

PILOTS AND BOMB AIMER OF A STIRLING. Interior of the pilots’ cockpit of a Stirling bomber. The first pilot (left) is the captain of the aircraft and is responsible for the safety of the machine and its crew. On his right sits the second pilot who takes control of the aircraft when the captain is otherwise engaged. In the foreground the air observer bomb aimer is seen leaving the bombing compartment in the nose.

WHEN the individual members of a crew meet each other for the first time at an Operational Training Unit, each of them has learnt his own trade at the appropriate school, but has had no training in the team work and crew drill which are fundamental to the efficient operation of a bomber aircraft, nor have they any experience of a service type of bomber. Their training up to now has been carried out on smaller types of training aircraft, and the pilots must therefore undergo what is called a conversion course to learn to fly the type of bomber which they are destined to use in active operations. The remainder of the crew will also be learning to apply their knowledge to the special problems of the service type of aircraft. When the crew are proficient by day they must then start work by night. Everything is much more difficult at night, for not only have they to learn to fly under blackout conditions, but they must learn how to work their complicated instruments in the dark, or with very little light to help them. The most that can be permitted will be a few screened lights, for the night bomber, if it is to escape interception by the enemy night fighter, must be blacked out.

At the completion of the course at the Operational Training Units the crew will be fit to begin their operational career, and they are posted as a crew to a service squadron using the type of aircraft on which they have trained. When they reach the squadron they are known as freshmen and a further short period of advanced training is in front of them before they can be regarded as fully fit for active bombing operations against the enemy.

After a day or two in which to settle at their new station the crew will be put through their paces by the flight commander, first of all in daylight and then at night. They will be sent to the local bombing range and the results of their bombing checked up. If they perform satisfactorily they will be detailed to attack a short-range objective in enemy country. This is known as “going on the nursery slopes”. If they carry out this task satisfactorily they will be sent to objectives progressively further away until they are able to fly to the full radius of action of their aircraft, find and bomb the target and return to their base. They can now regard themselves as fully fledged.

Let us now go to a night bomber station and see how a night bombing raid is organized. We will imagine a pleasant day in the late spring. The sky is clear except for a small amount of very high cloud and a mild southerly wind is blowing. If we are to see everything we must arrive at the station not later than mid-day, for by that time the targets for the night will have been ordered and the preparation begins.

The aircraft are standing at their dispersal points all round the aerodrome. Those that are detailed for duty tonight have already had their air tests and have been handed over to the maintenance crews for a final inspection. As we walk over to a dispersal point we can see a tractor pulling a long train of curious low vehicles, making its way towards one of the aeroplanes. The long low vehicles are trailers carrying the fused bombs from the bomb store to be loaded on to the aircraft. If we hurry we shall be in time to watch this being done.

THE STIRLING’S LOAD ARRIVES. Preparations for a night’s raid begins about mid-day, when tractors pull trains of bomb-loading vehicles to the dispersal points on the airfield. These low-wheeled vehicles carry the ready fused bombs. The full load of a Stirling bomber is 8 tons.

The bomber is standing on a piece of tarmac close to the edge of a wood about a quarter of a mile from the aerodrome. The aircraft carries the bombs internally in cells, the doors of which are opened and closed by a hydraulic ram. As we approach we see the bomb cell doors slowly opening. One of the bomb trailers is manoeuvred underneath the cell and the bomb is lifted by a hand operated winch until the lug on the bomb engages with the hook of the bomb carrier, which is then snapped shut. The crutches are then adjusted so as to steady the bomb and prevent it wobbling or vibrating when in the air, and the fusing link connected up. This is a device which enables the bomb aimer to make the fuse of the bomb “live” before it is dropped. If this is not done, the bomb is dropped “safe” with very little chance of its exploding. Some modern British bombs weigh as much as 4,000 lb. And 8,000 lb. For most general purposes, however, the 500 lb. and 1,000 lb. are the ones usually carried and one after another they are lifted carefully up and hooked into the bays and the necessary adjustments made. Then come two large rectangular metal boxes, which are a tight fit in the bomb cell and which are drawn up and slung on to the bomb carrier in exactly the same way as the bomb. These are containers, each holding a large number of small incendiary bombs. The bombs are prevented from falling out of the box by a number of cross-bars. When the lock is released the cross-bars fall away and the incendiary bombs descend and disperse in a shower.

A motor-driven fuel tanker now approaches to fill up the tanks and a large hose is connected to the filler cap of the fuel tank in the bomber. Electrical connections are carefully made at each end of the hose so as to avoid the risk of any sparking due to static electricity generated in the hose by friction when the fuel passes through it under pressure.

Filling the tanks

The motor-driven pump is now set in motion and in a surprisingly short time the aircraft’s tanks are quite full. In the meantime, other airmen are busy testing the electrical accumulators and the oxygen bottles to see that they are fully charged, while the armourers are looking over the hydraulic mechanism of the turrets and filling the ammunition tanks with long snake-like belts of machine gun ammunition. Another man is busy polishing the pilot’s windscreen, the astrodome and perspex canopies over the turrets, for these should be clean.

WHERE THE BOMBS ARE CARRIED. On the Short Stirling, the bombs are carried in three long bays running almost the whole length of the fuselage. They are hoisted into position by a winch.

The aircraft’s maintenance crew are still busy inspecting everything, testing the tyre pressures, checking the working of instruments and greasing and oiling, for nothing must be left to chance. The correct working of the engines and the wireless will have been ascertained during an air test earlier in the day.

It is now two o’clock and it is time to go to the Operations Centre to listen to the “briefing” of the crews. Between sixty and seventy men, officers and sergeants, are seated in a large room while from a raised desk the squadron commander is explaining the plan of tonight’s operations. First of all he tells them the target which they are going to attack; he explains the reasons for its importance and gives them his general ideas of the way in which the attack should be made, taking into consideration the weather conditions expected over the target and the disposition of the enemy’s defences, information concerning which has been gleaned from crews who have been there before. He then gives them such other advice as is prompted by his experience. When he has finished he asks the air crews if everything is quite clear in their minds and if not, invites them to ask him any questions they wish. When the questions come, they are always answered in a straightforward and businesslike way.

The meteorological officer then goes on to explain the weather forecast in detail. The met. officer, as he is always called, gives a forecast of the weather en route and in the target area, and says that there is some risk of the aerodrome going out of action owing to fog after midnight. He explains that, if that should occur, aircraft will be diverted to another aerodrome forty miles away, which is expected to remain clear. Once again questions are invited and answered. Next the intelligence officer gives the latest information about enemy defences. He warns the crews against approaching the target from the north, where searchlights and guns are known to be concentrated.

BOMB CELLS OF A WELLINGTON BOMBER. The trailers are manoeuvred beneath the bomb cells and the bombs are lifted by a hand operated winch until the lug on the bomb engages with the hook on the bomb carrier, which is snapped shut. Crutches are then adjusted so as to hold the bombs rigid, and the fusing link is connected. If this were not done the bombs would be dropped “safe”, and fail to explode.

When the last question has been answered, the squadron commander gives the crews his final admonitions. “Some of you”, he says, “occasionally forget, in the stress of the moment, to use your night cameras. I must impress on you how important it is that we should have photographs recording the fall of your bombs. Don’t be afraid of letting it be known that your bombs have not hit the target — we all make mistakes and the fact that you know where your bombs have gone will help you to do better next time. Now go and get your tea. You know your time of take off. Good luck to you all!” The captains and crews dismiss, and the officers and sergeants go off to their messes to get their tea, and make their final preparations for the night’s work. The navigators will have already laid off their courses on their maps and studied the route for prominent landmarks.

Daylight is fading as the flying crews put on the remainder of their flying clothing and begin to arrive at the dispersal points. The aircraft are now completely ready and preparations are being made to start the engines. The evening silence is broken as all round the aerodrome engines burst into life and soon the air is filled with their subdued rumbling as they are warmed up. Twelve aircraft are due to go off tonight, taking off at two-minute intervals, commencing at 6 o’clock. In these days of concentrated raids on given targets, with aircraft unloading their bombs to a definite time schedule and the whole of an attack by as many as 500 machines being carried out in the space of less than an hour, punctuality in leaving is absolutely insisted upon and the departure of each aircraft is usually carried out almost to the second. The air crews scramble aboard with their baskets containing thermos flasks with hot drinks, chocolate and other condensed and nutritious foods. The roar increases as the engines are tested on the ground.

DAYLIGHT IS FADING AS THE FLYING CREWS begin to arrive at the dispersal points. Just before the appointed time for the take-off the air crews begin to arrive at the dispersal points. The aircraft stand silent, silhouetted against the darkening sky. The silence of the aerodrome is suddenly shattered as the engines spring one by one into life, and the roar increases as they are given a final test to make certain that they are giving their full power.

Let us now leave the dispersal point and go to the control tower in order to watch the take-off. At the appropriate time permission is given from the control tower for the first aircraft to leave. In the gathering dusk we can see it creeping slowly round the edge of the aerodrome to the down wind end. The flares which mark out the take-off run have been lit, and can be seen faintly, two parallel rows of seven or eight lights covering several hundreds of yards in length. These lights are screened from above to prevent enemy aircraft from spotting the landing ground. The first aircraft is now waiting to take off with its engines slowly ticking over, while the captain calls up his crew in turn on the intercommunication telephone and assures himself that each is at his post and has carried out his share of the duties which must be performed before the aircraft is ready to take off.

It now wants a few seconds to 6 o’clock and exactly at the right moment the full deep roar of the engines is heard and the aircraft begins to run with gathering speed across the aerodrome. In its fully loaded condition it has run several hundred yards and is travelling at more than ioo miles per hour by the time the wheels leave the ground. As soon as it has lifted a few feet the retractable undercarriage begins slowly to disappear into the fuselage, and the aeroplane climbs steadily into the night sky.

Aircraft Away

While we were watching it, the second aeroplane has already taken its place and is waiting its turn to take off. At precisely two minutes past six the process is repeated and so it goes on until all twelve aircraft are off the ground exactly to time.

We will now go into the operations .room to see how the progress of the raid is controlled and recorded. Here all is quiet, and shaded lights illuminate large boards on the walls on which airmen are busy chalking the numbers of the aircraft that have just taken off and the time of their departure. Opposite each number is written the time at which it is expected to return home. If orders should come through to recall the aircraft or to change the objective, or if it should be necessary to divert the returning bombers to some other aerodrome, either on account of weather or enemy action, the appropriate message can be passed to the aircraft by wireless. The operations officer on duty sits at a desk with his telephones and shaded light making entries in the log.

NERVE CENTRE OF BOMBER COMMAND. The underground Operations Room at Bomber Command headquarters. Here the Commander-in-Chief (at desk in foreground) and his staff plan the operations for the night. Huge maps, charts and photographs giving particulars of enemy objectives are hung on the walls. This photograph is reproduced from the film “Target for Tonight”.

Meanwhile, the captain of the leading aircraft has checked up on everything and has satisfied himself that all is well. He is climbing steadily on the course given to him by the navigator and very soon the English coastline is reached. Behind him is the sepia-coloured landscape, while in front is the dark-grey North Sea which stretches away towards the distant horizon. From a height of 5,000 feet it looks just about as flat as a billiard table. Soon after crossing the coast the captain decides to alter his course in order to avoid flying over one of our shipping convoys.

Nothing is now visible but a wide monotonous expanse of sea. The moon is not yet up and it will be a dark night. After a few more minutes the aircraft flies through a short stretch of cloud, during which it is necessary for the captain to fly by instruments alone. A small amount of ice forms on the leading edges as the aircraft climbs into the clear air above. By the time the aircraft has reached 10,000 feet, the cloud has been left behind and a few dim points of light indicating the Dutch coast can be seen ahead. The aircraft is still climbing steadily and has reached 14,000 feet by the time the coast is crossed. Some miles to the south a great cone of searchlights has appeared; twenty or more beams of light converging at a height of some 15,000 feet. No aircraft can be seen illuminated by the lights, but near the point of intersection are the vivid orange flashes of bursting shells.

HALIFAX CREW GO ABOARD. This Halifax crew are ready and eager to enter their aircraft and take up their allotted positions inside it. It may be as long as nine hours before they will set foot on terra firma again.

The captain now adopts the policy of altering course a few degrees every half minute or so. Several beams of light are now searching the sky in his direction. They come closer, hesitate and move away again and then, as though in despair of finding anything, suddenly dowse, giving the appearance of added darkness to the surrounding sky. The captain flies on occasionally exchanging a word through the intercommunication telephone with other members of the crew. He asks the air observer to tell him again the estimated time of arrival over the target. He glances at the clock on the dashboard and sees that he has 50 minutes more to go. He calls up the gunner in the tail turret and asks him if all is well. The gunner has seen no other aircraft come near. A few miles ahead is an extensive patch of cloud and the captain sees that if he maintains his present course and height he will pass over it with a couple of thousand feet to spare. Once again the waving fingers of searchlights come close and the captain alters course sharply to port to avoid a beam in his direction.

The target for tonight is a large factory in an industrial town in the Ruhr and the navigator wishes to check his position on crossing the Rhine. He had laid off his course to cross the river where there is a very distinctive bend, at which he hopes to pin-point his position and set a new course for the objective, which will be only twenty-five miles away. As the time approaches when they should be getting near the river, the captain peers through the windscreen in an endeavour to pick it up, while the bomb aimer gazes through his window with the same object.

At the same moment they both see the gleam of starlight on water and the captain turns the aircraft slightly so as to bring the river more clearly into view, while at the same time the navigator searches for some other distinctive feature which will make him doubly sure of his position. Soon he sees what he wants and reports to the captain. “O.K.”, he says. “Course ninety-five degrees for 15 minutes”. The captain acknowledges, and turns the aircraft gently until it has taken up the new course. Many other aircraft will also be attacking the same target tonight, but he took off early and not many will be ahead of him. Nevertheless, there are signs that some aircraft have already arrived. Several cones of searchlights can be seen and many shell bursts are studding the sky, while on the ground a few dull glows, which are probably the early stages of fires caused by incendiary bombs, can be seen.

SELECTING THE BOMBS. When close to the target the bomb aimer selects his bombs by means of switches on the bomb-selector panel. He then opens the bomb doors and settles down to the task of picking out the target.

The bomb-aimer now operates switches that select and fuse the bombs, checks the settings bn his bomb sight, and finally opens the bomb-cell doors. He then gives the whole of his attention to the task of picking up the actual target. Two miles to the north of it is a small lake of distinctive shape, while along its southern edge runs the River Ruhr itself. He is giving the captain frequent changes of course which he indicates by an apparatus resembling a small version of a ship’s engine-room telegraph.

The man behind the bomb sight strains his eyes into the darkness and momentarily sees the gleam of water. He signals to his captain to alter course to bring it dead ahead but now he can see nothing. Then again he spots the glint of the water reflecting the light from the beam of a searchlight. He sees that it is indeed the lake for which he has been looking. He alters course still further to starboard to bring the estimated position of the target dead ahead and then strains his eyes once more to find the River Ruhr and the acres of workshops which are his objective.

In order to help in this, each bomber carries a number of powerful parachute flares which can be released by the bomb aimer. When one is dropped, it falls for a pre-arranged time, after which the parachute opens and checks its descent. At the same moment the flare begins to burn with a light equal to several hundred thousand candle power. When a number of bombers are attacking the same target, there will probably be several flares, dropped by different aircraft, burning at the same time and in clear weather conditions the ground will be sufficiently well illuminated to enable the bomb aimers to pick up the target.

Dropping the Flares

The observer releases his flare and peers into the darkness. After about a quarter of a minute it starts to burn and almost at the same time another flare dropped by another bomber lights up in the sky ahead of him. By the combined light of the two flares he searches the ground for the target. He is almost certain that it is straight ahead and just as he is beginning to make out the cluster of buildings and the tall chimneys, the whole cockpit is lit up by a brilliant flood of light, completely dazzling him and forcing the pilot to fly entirely by instruments. A large group of searchlights, controlled by a complicated electrical system, has suddenly, without warning, switched on and, aided by fortune, illuminated the bomber at the first attempt.

The captain shuts off the engines, banks violently and turns sharply to port, dropping the nose and letting the speed rise in an effort to escape. He watches the needle of the air-speed indicator creep round the dial until it registers more than 300 miles an hour. The bomb-cell doors are closed. The glare of the light is dimmer now, and as the captain pulls up the nose of the aircraft he realizes that he has escaped.

DROPPING A PARACHUTE FLARE. In order to light up the target area the bomb aimer, seen above, drops a powerful parachute flare. This burns for several minutes and gives a brilliant light equal to several hundred thousand candle power.

It is not always so easy to escape the persistent cones of the searchlights. Not long ago when over the same district, the captain had to take violent evasive action and lose height down to 6,000 feet before he could elude their dazzling glare. As he turns to starboard to return to the target, anti-aircraft shells begin to burst all round the aircraft. They give a vivid orange flash. The captain half throttles the engines, and loses height slightly, as he thinks that in this way he will have a better chance of approaching the target without being picked up again by the searchlights.

Meanwhile, the observer has managed to fix the position of the aircraft by recognizing a landmark and once more gives the pilot the correct course to steer. He resets the bomb sight and settles down with straining eyes to pick up his objective. Once more, he releases a parachute flare, and by its light, he sees the target right ahead of him.

This time there is no mistake. He identifies it quite clearly, and, waiting for the right moment, alters the course of the aircraft slightly to bring the target in line with the end of the drift bar of the bomb sight. As the aircraft flies towards it, the target apparently moves along the drift bar and when it gets to a point where a cross wire intersects it, the observer will press the button which functions the electric bomb-releasing gear.

On the last run up the target the ground defences redouble their efforts and shells burst very close. The captain sets his teeth and keeps on a steady course, while the observer coolly waits for the few seconds that must elapse before the moment comes for him to release the bombs. At last the target reaches the cross wire. He presses the button. The bombs fall off in quick succession, and a moment later he sets the automatic night camera in action. “Bombs away”, he shouts through the telephone to the captain, “but hold on to the course for a bit if you can, as I have switched on the camera”.

A few seconds later the bombs explode far below and the flash bomb of the night camera goes off, looking for all the world like lightning. As soon as he sees the flash the captain knows that the photograph has been taken, and, opening up the engines to full throttle, he turns the aircraft for home, still pursued by bursting shells. Two other cones of searchlights have sprung into existence within the last few seconds, illuminating other bombers arriving in the target area. The captain puts the nose down slightly and watches the air-speed indicator rise steadily. There is no object in loitering in the vicinity of the target once the bombs have gone.

THE NAVIGATOR PLOTS HIS COURSE. At his station in a Stirling bomber the navigator is busy calculating his course. Upon this very important member of the air crew the success of the bombing raid may depend. An error in course may waste the work of the rest of the crew together with fuel and bombs.

The air observer has closed the bomb-cell doors and, as the bomb-aiming part of his job is now over, he returns to the navigator’s table and gives the pilot the course to steer for home. This will not necessarily follow the shortest way, as bombers frequently route themselves so as to avoid known concentrations of searchlights, A.A. batteries and areas popular with enemy night fighters. The tail gunner reports that he can see large fires burning in the target area and the sky over the target is fairly plastered with bursting A.A. shells. In a few minutes the aircraft is flying over the layer of cloud, this time just skimming over the top of it.

The crew have been in the air now for some four hours and they are all beginning to feel the effects of cold. Thermos flasks are opened, and every one has a hot drink; the captain leaves the pilot’s seat, handing over the controls to the second pilot, and takes up his station near the air observer and surveys his surroundings through the astrodome. He asks the air observer to let him know the expected time of arrival over the English coast, but before he can get a reply the tail gunner reports that an aircraft, which he thinks is an enemy fighter, is approaching from the starboard quarter.

The captain immediately warns all the crew to stand by for an attack and tells the second pilot to turn to port to bring the fighter well within the field of fire of the tail gunner. He strains his eyes, peering through the astrodome and after a few moments can plainly see a twin-engine fighter, behind and below him, faintly silhouetted against the cloud. The captain considers whether he will remain in clear air and trust to shooting back if the fighter attacks him, or risk going into the cloud, in which he will probably meet bad icing conditions, but before he has made up his mind the fighter has turned sharply away and disappeared.

THE BOMB AIMER TAKES AIM. In addition to his other duties the navigator also aims and releases the bombs and sets the automatic night camera in action. In his right hand he holds the bomb-release switch which operates the delicate mechanism that sends the bombs speeding on their deadly mission.

The captain knows by experience that German fighters often behave in this way. They come and look at you and go away, but, like sharks, they generally return. He therefore warns the tail gunner to keep an especially careful watch and returns to his conversation with the air observer. The expected time of arrival at his base is a few minutes before midnight. The captain is anxious not to be late owing to the risk of fog forming after midnight. When he looks again out of the astrodome he sees that they have left the cloud bank behind and are near the Dutch coast. The tail gunner reports that the enemy fighter has reappeared and is approaching rapidly from astern and slightly below. The captain orders him to hold his fire until the fighter is within effective range. The tail gunner operates his turret and, allowing for deflection, gets his sights fair and square on the enemy fighter, while his finger squeezes the trigger as he waits for the moment to fire off his ammunition.

All of a sudden there is a vivid stab of flame from the nose of the fighter and the crew hears the rattle of bullets striking the tail plane and lower part of the fuselage. This is at once followed by a roar of machine gun fire from the powerful battery in the bomber’s tail. The captain watches the fight from his post of vantage at the astrodome. The fighter turns slightly and goes past at high speed on the port side. The captain warns the front gunner that he will have a chance of a shot and a moment later hears the rattle of machine gun fire from the front turret. In face of the bomber’s powerful guns the fighter climbs and turns away, disappearing against the dark starry sky.

INSIDE THE CONTROL ROOM WHERE OFFICERS, with a plan of the aerodrome lighting and runways before them, direct landing operations.

The captain calls up all the members of the crew on the telephone to see if any one is wounded and to ask for reports of damage. No one is hurt, though the wireless operator reports several hits on the armoured bulkhead which protects him from astern attack. The remaining damage appears to be superficial; in a few moments all traces of excitement have passed and the crew return to the normal routine of their duties. The Dutch coast is now well behind them and it is time for the wireless operator to tune in to his home station. He will now obtain a fix from the long-range D /F stations and pass it to the navigator in order to assist him in checking the aircraft’s position.

The practised ear of the captain detects a slight change of note in the port engine, and he carries out in the pilot’s cockpit a check up on the instruments. Oil pressure and oil temperature seem all right, fuel pressure gauge, boost, everything seems to be normal, but the engine is running irregularly and a certain amount of vibration can now be felt. There can be little doubt that one of the enemy fighter’s bullets has damaged something. It is impossible to see what, as the engine is away out on the wing and cannot be inspected during flight. He can only hope that it will continue to run till they get home. The captain remains in the cockpit watching the instruments and listening to the note of the engine. As the vibration does not appear to get any worse and the engine is still g ving nearly full power he concludes that with luck it will see them home. He glances at the clock and sees that they have another twenty-five minutes to go, and gazes through the pilot’s windscreen, watching for the first sign of the English coastline. The aircraft is now steadily losing height and the coast is crossed at 5,000 feet. As he looks down on the ground the captain can see, faintly, patches of fog and mist.

A RETURNING BOMBER RECEIVING A SIGNAL by an Aldis lamp from the aerodrome control post giving it permission to land.

The automatic pilot holds the aircraft on its steady course while the captain changes places with the second pilot and takes over the controls. In a few minutes the aircraft is circling round the dimly lit flare path of the aerodrome. The height has now been reduced to 1,000 feet and the captain sees that although the visibility is not very good, the fog has not yet reached the landing ground. As he circles round he makes a signal asking for permission to land and an answering signal giving permission is received from the aerodrome control post, though sometimes other bombers which arrived first are still in the air and he has to await his turn, continuing to circle at a height which is given to him so that he and the other aircraft remain at different levels, much as though they are on different storeys of a house, and do not run the risk of collision. On receipt of the signal the captain pulls the lever that lowers the undercarriage. He watches the tell-tale lights turn from red to green, which indicates that the undercarriage is fully extended and locked in position. The captain half closes the throttles and pushes the nose of the aeroplane down, lowers the flaps and circles round, losing height. He judges it so that he reaches the down-wind side of the aerodrome at about 500 feet. He watches the flare path and turns in towards it at the right moment, at such a height that he will slightly undershoot. He comes in steadily into wind at half throttle and at 50 feet up opens up the engines for few seconds to nearly full throttle to help him in. As he comes over the boundary light of the aerodrome he shuts off the engines and puts the nose down to the normal gliding angle. The aircraft approaches the ground at a steep angle and at the right moment the captain pulls back the elevator control and holds the aircraft just off the ground.

It floats parallel with the surface of the aerodrome for a few seconds and then sinks lightly on to the ground. The captain now gently puts on the brakes and the speed gradually slows up until the aircraft comes to rest near the end of the flare path.

ON THE CONTROL TOWER. Many hours have elapsed since the aircraft set out. They will soon be due back. The aerodrome, silent since their departure, begins to stir into life as preparations are made to bring the bombers safely to earth. On the control tower a group of officers strain their ears to catch the drone of the first returning bomber. The question in all their minds is how many will return.

The captain now taxies the aircraft off the flare path and proceeds slowly to the dispersal point. On arrival, the air crew hand over the aircraft to the maintenance crew, giving them a brief report on its condition and performance.

The crew now get into a light lorry, in which there are several other air crews whose aircraft have just landed, and drive about a mile to the operations block. On arrival they go to a large room in which are a number of tables, each with half a dozen chairs disposed round them. Several of these tables are already occupied by crews who are giving their stories to one of the intelligence officers, who sits at the head of the table. The crew help themselves to large enamel mugs, and fill them with steaming hot cocoa from a large urn that fizzles on another table in the middle of the room. They make their way to a vacant table and seat themselves. The atmosphere is warm and they take off much of their flying clothing. Presently an intelligence officer comes along to give them their “interrogation”. He questions them whenever necessary but for the most part encourages them to tell their story in their own words. Gradually the sheet of paper in front of the intelligence officer becomes covered with his notes and after a final question or two he releases the crew, who make way for the next one and go to their respective messes.

Here they have a meal which is usually taken at any time from 1 a.m. onwards and is a sort of combined supper and breakfast. Sausages and mash, or bacon and eggs (when they are obtainable) are very popular and as they eat they exchange reminiscences of the night’s work. One crew has done particularly well, for not only did they obtain direct hits on the target, but they claim to have shot down in flames an enemy fighter which was rash enough to attack them on their way home.

AN INTELLIGENCE OFFICER INTERROGATES THE CREW. Immediately after landing, the captain taxies his bomber to the dispersal point where he hands it over to the maintenance crew. The air crew then proceed to the operations block where they are interrogated by an intelligence officer. He listens to the story they have to tell regarding the part they have taken in the raid, and questions them whenever necessary regarding the effect of their bombs, the amount of enemy interference and so on. The crew then go to their messes for a good meal before turning in for a well earned sleep.

As it is still only half-past two in the morning, there are several hours of darkness in front of them. They can sleep for seven or eight hours, getting up in time for a late breakfast at ten or eleven o’clock. In high summer it is not so easy, as they may land after dawn and then have to try to sleep during daylight hours. Soon the mess is empty, and the lights are turned out.

Most bombing operations against enemy ships moving up and down the English Channel are carried out nowadays by fighter-bombers, Hurricanes and Whirlwinds, while Coastal Command has the responsibility of looking after the German convoys farther afield off the Dutch and Norwegian coasts. Specialised bombing by day on targets as distant as Oslo and Berlin is undertaken by the exceedingly fast Mosquitoes. They go out in small force and rely on their speed and manoeuvrability to make their attack and return home safely, as they did on their now historic raid on Berlin in 1943 when Goering was due to speak in celebration of Hitler’s tenth anniversary of coming to power.

Medium Bomber Raids

But also there are the day bombing raids on specified targets like power stations, steel works and harbour installations, so we will go to an aerodrome where medium bombers are preparing to go out with an escort of fighters. The “circus” operation, as it is called, is timed to take off at 2 o’clock. It is a deliberately planned operation, very carefully timed and there is no need to stand by or rush into the air to catch a fleeting target. The bombers and fighters will either take off from the same aerodrome or will meet at a prearranged time and place. The bomber and fighter leaders will get together beforehand and discuss with the greatest care every detail of the arrangements. Fighters have a limited petrol capacity and therefore cannot afford to waste any time in the air waiting for the bombers at the rendezvous. Everything must go like clockwork if it is to be successful. The bombers will circle over the rendezvous at a prearranged height for a few minutes to allow the fighter squadrons to take up their station in the best manner to protect the bombers from enemy fighter attack. Then at a signal from the bomber leader, the combined formation will set off for the target. The bomber leader must be careful not to make any sudden alterations in the course or height which may cause the fighter formation to lose station or straggle in any way, for if this should happen it will give the enemy fighters the chance they are looking for. In a matter of seconds, perhaps, a straggling aircraft will be singled out for attack and will be lucky if he can get home to tell the tale.

When we arrive at the aerodrome we see that the three Spitfire squadrons which are going to escort the formation of six Bostons have already arrived and are dispersed around the leeward side of the aerodrome. The bomber crews and fighter pilots are having the details of the operations explained to them at the operations centre by the various formation leaders. None of them are new to the game, however, and a very few minutes suffice to put every one in the picture. The conference over, the pilots and crews go to their aircraft and one after another the engines are started up. The bombers go off first and climb gently in a wide sweep. The leader carefully notes the time and follows the course he has mapped out to bring him over the rendezvous at 10,000 feet three minutes before the appointed time.

As soon as the bombers are in the air, the three Spitfire squadrons take off in formation, one after the other and disappear in the same direction. Arrived over the rendezvous, the bomber leader makes a wide circle and looks behind to see if the Spitfire squadrons are taking up their positions. One Spitfire squadron is close behind and above the bombers. This is the “escort” squadron. Behind and above the escort are the other two Spitfire squadrons, which are called the “high-guard” squadrons. Behind each fighter squadron one Spitfire weaves from side to side, keeping a look out astern for enemy fighters.

RAIDS BY MEDIUM BOMBERS. While the heavy bombers make the devastating night raids on industrial centres and ports in Germany, the medium bombers, with powerful fighter escort, carry out valuable daylight attacks on power stations, steel works and harbour installations all over enemy-occupied territory. These daylight raids, which involve the combined use of fighters and bombers, have to be planned with the utmost care and precision. Everything has to be timed to the minute if the attack is to be a success. Such daylight attacks are carried out by medium type bombers like the Bostons which are shown here. The Douglas Boston III is powered by two Wright double-row Cyclone radial engines and has a top speed of more than 550 miles per hour at about 12,000 feet. Its armament comprises six machine guns and it can carry a bomb load up to 2,000 pounds. This aircraft is also used as a night intruder bomber and in such a capacity has done a great deal of useful work over France and the Low Countries.

The leader turns gently on to the correct course, and, still climbing, the formation crosses the coast. The leader looks far below to the smooth blue water of the Channel. He intends to cross the French coast at 13,000 feet and then, increasing speed, reduce his height to 12,000 feet over the target, which is a large electric power station in occupied territory. When crossing the French coast they are saluted by the enemy’s heavy A.A. guns, which put up a stiff barrage of bursting shells in and around the formations. It is astonishing that none of the aircraft is hit, as many of the bursts appear to be very close. Once the leader flies through the smoke of a shell which bursts a couple of hundred yards ahead of him. When clear of the coast the A.A. fire dies away, but is renewed on a smaller scale as they approach the target. The leader’s air observer has no difficulty in this clear weather in picking up the target when more than ten miles away and he watches it coming slowly along the drift bar of his bomb sight until the moment comes to release the bombs. As he presses the button which causes the bombs to fall off the racks, he gives the signal by R/T and all the other observers in the formation simultaneously release their bombs. He watches the great cluster of bombs go falling down towards the target, growing smaller and smaller as they creep on towards it. Many seconds pass and the bombs have grown so small that they have disappeared altogether when suddenly all over the target area large puffs of greyish-black smoke appear, and spout upwards to the sky. In a few moments the target is completely obscured by a heavy pall of smoke and the bomb aimer knows that his shooting has been good. Immediately after releasing the bombs the air observer switches on the automatic camera, which will take a photograph every few seconds. As soon as the bombs have burst he stops the camera and tells the leader that all is well. The bomber formation now turns gently to port and sets course for home, the Spitfires keeping their proper station during the turn. Formations of enemy fighters are now arriving to take a hand in the game. Four of them dive steeply past one of the Spitfire squadrons, and pulling out of the dive, attack the bombers by zooming up underneath them. A flight of six Spitfires detaches itself from the escort squadron and attacks the enemy fighters from behind, whereupon three of them roll on their backs and dive steeply away towards the ground. The fourth loses speed, stalls and spins down to earth with fire and smoke pouring from the engine.

START OF A DAY BOMBING RAID. By the time that the bomber crews reach their aircraft the engines have already been started up by the maintenance crews at the aerodrome and are ticking over quite smoothly. The crews scramble aboard, making all the necessary last-minute adjustments to their flying clothing and kit. The engines are given a final test at full throttle, after which the planes taxi out on to the airfield and take up their stations on either side of the leader before taking off.

No more fighters attempt to attack the bombers, but they repeatedly dive upon the escort Spitfires and fire their guns from a long range. At last one more venturesome comes too close. Immediately a section of three Spitfires breaks away from one of the “high-guard” squadrons and manoeuvres on to his tail. The enemy fighter dives vertically at a tremendous speed, but, as he is not seen to be set on fire or crash, he is not claimed as destroyed. The three Spitfires then quickly take up their former positions in the squadron. By now the formation has reached the coast and again it has to pass through the barrage of bursting A.A. shells. Once more all the aircraft come safely through and now only the narrow strip of the Channel lies between them and England. The leader eases back the throttle and, losing height, crosses the coast at about 5,000 feet. Here he bids farewell to the Spitfires, which break off to go to their own aerodrome.

After completing a period in a bomber squadron, the air crews pass on to the Operational Training Units, where they are employed in teaching their business to the crews under training. It is particularly important that the instructional staff at the Operational Training Units should be composed of men with recent experience in a service squadron so that they can ensure that the fresh crews reach their units imbued with up-to-date tactical ideas. It would, however, be a mistake to suppose that the instructors at Operational Training Units are enjoying a rest after their spell of operations. Although the change is no doubt beneficial, the work is hard and, moreover, lacks the thrill of operational flying. The air crews look forward with pleasure to the day when, having finished their time as instructors, they will return to a squadron. There is something very satisfying about the esprit de corps of a service squadron; air crews are such true comrades in arms that almost from the first day of their second tour of duty, the re-joined crews feel at home again. They now become the old hands of the squadron, veterans in the eyes of the crews now doing their first tour of duty, who look to them tor advice and help.

The men of the bombers, by day and night, in fair weather and foul, carry on a continuous offensive against the enemy. No task can worry them; nothing can put them out of humour but a spell of inactivity caused by hopeless weather conditions. But it must not be supposed that they are supermen. They are ordinary fit young men, who have been through an intensive course of training and have absorbed the spirit of the Royal Air Force. Their conversation may often be flippant, and their demeanour at times apparently off-hand, but this is merely a mask which conceals a remarkable standard of courage and devotion to duty. To quote a line of Rudyard Kipling, they “are not children or gods, but men in a world of men”.

AMMUNITION FOR THE REAR GUNNER.  While the bombs are being loaded, members of the aircraft’s maintenance crew are busy filling the tanks, fitting and testing oxygen bottles and making other last-minute adjustments. Meanwhile the armourers are looking over the hydraulic mechanism of the turrets and filling the ammunition tanks with long, snake-like belts of machine gun bullets.

You can read more on “Bomber Aircraft of the R.A.F.”, “Development of the Bomber” and “Training RAF Pilots” on this website.