From Sapper to Spitfire Spy - Sally-Anne Greville-Heygate

 

Rather fortuitously, and I am forever grateful for I have had my head buried in several manuscripts of late, this review was first published on Aircrew Book Review’s supporting Facebook page on 15 December. Colin Ford is the erudite ‘Historian by Appointment’ of No. 268 Squadron and the author of its epic history ADJIDAUMO - 'Tail-in-Air' the History of No. 268 Squadron Royal Air Force 1940-1946 (which will, hopefully, one day, be published as a widely available edition). His knowledge of the unit’s tactical reconnaissance work, and the intricacies therein, and intimate understanding of the careers of many of the pilots who flew with the squadron, makes him the perfect reviewer for a book about a ‘Spitfire Spy’. A couple of years ago I edited his comprehensive look at the only two Australians to fly the reconnaissance variant of the Hawker Typhoon (the FR.IB) into a 3000-word feature article for Flightpath magazine. The depth of his research was phenomenal and surely must be one of the very few (only?) comparisons of this version of the great ‘Tiffie’ with the almost ideal (for Tac/R) Mustang Mk.I/IA and Mk.II. Enjoy, then, this review written by quite the cluey chap! Andy Wright.

 

This biography of Flight Lieutenant David Greville-Heygate DFC has been written by his daughter, Sally-Anne Greville-Heygate, and is largely based around his personal correspondence, diary entries, pilot’s logbook, squadron records and other documentation. During the writing of this biography, where the source material didn’t contain, or the detail of what was noted in the source material was not clear to the author, she made good use of a number of aviation specific forums, especially ‘RAF Commands’, to post questions and seek answers. 

 

The overall account is an interesting one and despite the publisher’s hyperbole of the subject—‘one of the few men who served in both the army and the Royal Air Force during the Second World War’—it was a more common occurrence than is generally known (my examination of the aircrew rosters of RAF Army Co-operation Command, and later Second Tactical Air Force Tac/R squadrons, shows a variation between units of 20-35 per cent of their RAF/RAFVR pilots at various times being ex-Army or seconded-Army). What we have is a story typical of many young men who had joined the Army just before or at the outbreak of the Second World War, who then answered the call for aircrew trainees from 1940 onwards. What is more interesting in this instance is the subject followed the path open to commissioned Army officers seconded for aircrew training with the expectation from the Army the role he would find himself in, when he qualified as a pilot, would be with one of the RAF's Army co-operation squadrons in support of Army operations and activities. Also, not surprisingly, a number of them did not always end up in the ACC or Tac/R type roles and could be found in the aircrew rosters of transport squadrons and Special Duties units, as well as being represented in smaller numbers in fighter, bomber and Coastal Command squadrons.

 

In David Greville-Heygate’s (DGH) case, completing his flying training in the UK, he passed through the Army Co-operation/Tactical Reconnaissance 41 OTU at Old Sarum and eventually joined No. 16 Squadron. There he initially flew Westland Lysanders in support of Army exercises in the UK, then when the squadron re-equipped with the Allison-engined North American Mustang Mk.I in April 1942, he flew the wide range of operational sorties being conducted by RAF ACC squadrons at that time. This included shipping reconnaissance, low-level photographic reconnaissance, Rhubarbs, Rangers and Populars, plus continuing support and participation in Army exercises in the UK including Exercise Spartan in early 1943.

 

In July 1943, with the disbandment of ACC, and the interim period before 2TAF was formed, there was the opportunity for him to sample the Supermarine Spitfire in the shape of the PR.IV. At that time, it was proposed 16 Squadron would move from the low-level to high-level reconnaissance role, however, due to a number of factors, that ended up being delayed so operations continued on Mustangs until early 1944.

 

In early November 1943, DGH was deemed to be tour expired and was sent to fill an instructor’s role at 41 OTU. That brought its own challenges and frustration, especially being ‘on rest’ when D-Day occurred. Seeking a way back to operational flying, DGH went down the path of converting onto the Hawker Typhoon, the demand for pilots for the 2TAF Typhoon squadrons being high at the time due to the number of combat losses. So, in early December 1944, he joined No. 168 Squadron flying the Typhoon largely on armed recces at low altitude over the Netherlands and western Germany. 

However, due to a chance encounter with an old friend, and a bit of old fashioned ’string pulling’, he was able to get himself posted across to No.II (AC) Squadron (‘Shiny Two’), as a part of No. 35 (Recce) Wing, flying Spitfire XIVs. This is where he saw out the remainder of his wartime operational flying which included first-hand experiences relating to Operation Bodenplatte—the Luftwaffe attacks on Allied airfields on 1 January 1945—and the series of Allied operations, including the forced crossing of the Rhine, leading to the eventual defeat of Germany. Naturally enough, with hostilities over in Europe, there is the period of uncertainty that follows and the change from a wartime to peacetime Air Force, but with developing tensions with the Soviet Union in the areas of Europe they had occupied and the conflict still ongoing in the Far East.

There are a couple of areas in this biography where I felt somewhat uncomfortable reading his views on certain people. That partly arose from knowing a number of those people personally or, in a few instances, knowing the other side of the story as to why certain decisions and actions were being taken. For example, DGH objects to the demands for pilots to fly a certain number of hours and the introduction of specific training programs after VE-Day and berates his OC of the time regarding this. The OC, however, was following the TAF HQ/British Air Forces of Occupation requirements which dictated that aircrew who may be required for deployment to the Far East, or if the situation in Europe destabilised, were to maintain their operational skills and readiness through regular flying and training activities. This was not helped, of course, by the rapid drawdown in many squadrons caused by the repatriation of aircrew from Allied Air Forces (RAAF, RCAF, RNZAF etc) with the conclusion of hostilities in Europe.

 

As well, there are a few other places in the narrative where, given the focus of the biography, the bigger picture and the part DGH, and the units he was with, played is not particularly clear. Someone who may not have read about the role of ACC and 2TAF may be left wondering about certain aspects of what is conveyed and why things were done the way they were. As an example, the biography gives some detail of the low-level photography of the French coastline including Normandy conducted by DGH but does not explain the reasons for it, why this specific type of photography was required and why obtaining it was so risky for the pilots involved.

 

The other thing to be aware of is that, as a large part of the narrative is drawn from diary entries, letters and other documents of the time, some of the views and sentiments expressed by those at the time may seem out of place or somewhat incongruous in the current day; it’s all about how we view things now and how they were viewed then. 

Photos from DGH’s wartime logbook and personal collection, plus those sourced from the family of wartime friends, combined with a number of photo extracts from the logbook and maps showing his key areas of operation, help round out and literally illustrate the story.

 

Overall, a good biography that is probably somewhere between autobiography and biography due to the high percentage of first-person source material used and the author’s obvious connection to the subject. For those interested in a different type of WWII pilot biography, and a view into a different part of the air war in Europe, this book will provide that difference.

 

ISBN 978-1-47384-3-882

Ready to Strike - Adam Lunney

There is a living legend airworthy in Australia, yet, despite there only being two flying Spitfires in the country, it is often seen as ‘the other Spitfire’ alongside its more ‘toothy’ stablemate. Of all the aircraft flown in combat by RAAF squadrons in Europe and the Middle East, Spitfire Mk.XVI TB863 is the only one left flying. It is a mobile reminder of the RAAF commitment to the air war against Germany, but, despite the European war claiming the lion’s share of attention for much of the rest of the world, save Bomber Command, it comes a distant second to the local study of Australia’s role in the South Pacific. The Spitfire is painted in the markings it wore in early 1945 when it saw service with 453 Squadron RAAF. Most, if not all, Australian fighter squadrons in the northern hemisphere are overshadowed by the accomplishments of 3 Squadron in North Africa and beyond. It was exciting, therefore, to learn of Adam Lunney’s project, and its subsequent publication in late 2018, focussing on 453 Squadron’s activities over Normandy in mid-1944.

When the unit formed in Scotland in June 1942, it did so as a new, ‘green’ squadron within the RAF. The squadron’s nameplate, however, had already been through the wringer in a previous incarnation during the defence of Malaya and Singapore. Flying the Brewster Buffalo, the squadron did what it could against the all-conquering Japanese (everything was inferior to the ‘Zero’ at the time, yet the Buffalo did better than many believe, but was completely hamstrung by poor spares supplies, and the lack of time to complete repairs, with most examples lost being destroyed on the ground). Still, admittedly embarrassed by the chain of events down the Malayan Peninsula and into the Dutch East Indies, the authorities were not terribly enthused with the squadron’s legacy or its continuation. However, just a few months after its disbandment, it was reborn on the other side of the world. While admittedly two separate entities, ‘453’ was again active and, despite its unwarranted reputation in the Far East, its pilots would continue the tradition of courage and dedication begun by the Buffalo men.

A significant part of the RAAF’s commitment to the air war in Europe, 453 Squadron was really just another Spitfire unit within the RAF’s Fighter Command. Its early leaders, squadron and flight, were posted in from other units where they had gained valuable combat experience. They were not necessarily Australian, though. Indeed, in addition to the predominantly British leadership team, there were three Poles and a Canadian among the pilots assigned to the new unit, all of who were generally senior to the Australian pilots posted in (mostly pilots officers and flight sergeants). The groundcrew were also local despite the plan for the Article XV squadrons, and the desires of the Australian government, to have RAAF squadrons solely staffed by Australians. At the time, despite the obvious success of the Empire Air Training Scheme, Australian aircrew (and other nationalities flowing into the UK) went where they were needed within the RAF. Still, the effort was made to place them with RAAF units. Despite a pool maintained in 1944, 453 Squadron still could not guarantee having an Australian pilot posted in as a replacement post-Normandy.

Working up in the relatively quiet airspace over Scotland, the squadron was eventually posted south where, like any other Spitfire squadron on the frontline, it was heavily involved in the RAF’s offensive over occupied Europe. Convoy and local patrols aside, the pilots’ lives consisted of a steady diet of bomber escorts and fighter sweeps from their airfields on the English Channel. It’s all very familiar stuff, but for a book that mentions Normandy on the cover, the extent of the coverage is surprising, but necessary. This discussion runs to about 100 pages and, more so than the Far East, shows the development of the squadron as a fighting unit and, importantly, the evolution of its culture and character. Typical of an operational squadron, many pilots come and go, for various reasons. For those who return for a second tour, the author goes to great pains to welcome them back with reference to the response from the incumbents (often highly amusing). This builds the feeling of family that is at the heart of such an organisation.

Ultimately, 453 Squadron becomes part of the Second Tactical Air Force, the RAF’s major direct contribution to the forthcoming Normandy landings. Initially operating from RAF Ford, as it had been before the invasion, the squadron’s personnel were the first Australians to fly combat ops from France when staged through Advanced Landing Grounds before making the move proper to ALG B.11 on the coast just to the west of Arromanches. Life now consisted of a frenetic, endless, dangerous mix of ground attack, escort and interception operations, with the former certainly making up the majority. Fighter pilots being fighter pilots, the Australians yearned for some action in their preferred role – encounters with the Luftwaffe. While rare, per the narrative, the squadron performed well when it did have the chance to tangle with German aircraft. Worn out at the end of September, the squadron was back in the UK for a well-earned rest, but that, as the author tantalisingly closes the operational discussion, is another story.

This is the first book of any depth to be written about the squadron since Duty Done, ‘Rusty’ Leith’s biography written with, and published by in 2001, the esteemed Cyril Ayris (Leith also had the most time in TB863 during its operational career). While the squadron continued to fly sorties to the end of the war, the book finishes its look at ops as August 1944 closes. It is, as the cover says, ops ‘over Normandy’. That said, ‘Normandy’ doesn’t kick off until page 163. For a book a touch over 400 pages, that’s a good chunk of what is effectively an operational preamble. The author steps the reader through the squadron’s history, starting with the Far East, before jumping sideways to introduce the Spitfire as the weapon the unit used to great effect. These first two chapters are almost polar opposites. The Far East chapter is not the most sparkling of openings for an operational history. It feels laborious, but I think this is a function of trying to condense a hell of a lot of information (Brian Cull and Christopher Shores did it over several books!) into a single chapter that, in the great scheme of things, isn’t vital to the book. On the flip side, the following chapter, meet the Spitfire, a subject that could easily get away from any writer given the breadth of detail and stories available to draw from, is handled beautifully. It is a well-written analysis of the most famous of aircraft that avoids the expected stereotypes and emotion (or the gushing and waxing lyrical!), but shows respect and a genuine passion for the design. Comments from those who flew the Spitfire were chosen carefully and range from published memoirs and accounts to recorded interviews on archive or conducted by the author himself. A little over forty pages long, with some illustrations, and almost 200 references (more on that shortly), it is the chapter that sets the hook in the reader and confirms the author’s ability to get to grips with a sweeping subject. 

Then it’s down to business. The operational history is very nicely handled. While, at times, there is not a lot of action pre-Normandy, the narrative avoids being dry and repetitive. Quotes, anecdotes and mini-biographies/vignettes, particularly as the pilots come and go, are used to good effect to break up the day-to-day reporting and present a very readable account. The momentum builds as the reader approaches the date of the Normandy landings, but despite the incessant operational flying, the author takes the time to follow a pilot’s escapades as he evades the Germans after being shot down, for example. Such a thing could quite easily be limited to ‘Joe Bloggs was back with the squadron three weeks later after evading the Germans and making it back to the Allied lines’ if there was a desire to keep things centred on operations (I’m looking at the disappointing The Stabber of the Sky as I write this), but, as you’ve hopefully worked out by now, this is far more than an operational history. After all, what is a squadron, what is a Spitfire, without the men who were part of it?

Ready to Strike is available as a print on demand book (and at shops that have acquired stock of course). This enables it to be printed locally to the buyer, thus saving on dreaded postage costs. The review copy is the softcover option and makes a good, solid book. I would suggest, however, if you can afford it, getting the hardcover. The covers of the softcover have a matt finish and, weirdly, are quite adept at absorbing pen ink from other paper (like handwritten review notes). In either format, however, this is an attractive publication illustrated throughout by images sourced from families, archives and, once again, the author’s own legwork during at least one visit to Normandy. As alluded to above, it is extensively referenced and the bibliography is equally epic. There is no index, however, and that is a let down for a book as important as this, a key, latter day feature in the recorded history of the RAAF in Europe. The referencing at the end of each chapter helps soften this blow a little. That said, for the author’s first book, this is how operational histories should be tackled. Focus on the people, keep it personal and don’t get bogged down in the numbers and stats. They’re vital, yes, but they wouldn’t exist were it not for the people to whom we owe so much. Adam Lunney achieves this fine balance with Ready to Strike.

ISBN 978-0-6483552-2-9