Worth the wait - how to do a squadron history

One of the operations for which the de Havilland Mosquito is best known is the low-level attack on the prison at Amiens in France - the Amiens raid. The main striking force consisted of aircraft from two squadrons predominantly crewed by airmen from the Southern Hemisphere. These two units - the Australian No 464 Squadron and the New Zealanders of No 487 Squadron - worked closely during their wartime service, but, until now, save the various books about Operation Jericho and the Leonard Trent biography for example, there hasn't been a detailed treatise of the Kiwi unit. It's been worth the wait.

Like the Australian squadron, superbly profiled in The Gestapo Hunters by Mark Lax and Leon Kane-Maguire, 487 began life as a Lockheed Ventura bomber squadron and committed to the RAF offensive over Europe. The Ventura, a replacement for the venerable Hudson, was not ideally suited to the role of medium bomber, but it was available and, like the Douglas Bostons, Short Stirlings, and the Bristol Blenheims before those, it could be used to entice German fighters into the air for the escorting RAF fighter wings to engage. The bombing force on such raids was hardly ever enough to cause significant damage to the targets selected, and the Luftwaffe could choose to engage at its leisure, but there was never any doubt of the courage exhibited by the airmen on both sides. The Venturas are perhaps best remembered for their raids on the Eindhoven Philips factory (Operation Oyster) and the disastrous Ramrod in early May 1943 when only one 487 Squadron aircraft, of the eleven that crossed the Dutch coast, made it home. The type did a lot more than that, of course, but the Aussies and Kiwis were not sad to see the back of the Venturas when they were replaced by the Mosquito, an aircraft ideally suited to the intruder work that epitomised the work of the Second Tactical Air Force.

The Mosquito operations of 487 Squadron are, partly due to their success and also because of the eternal popularity of the Mossie, the stuff of legend. Considering The Gestapo Hunters was published in 1999, it is surprising we've had to wait this long for a similar Kiwi effort. Add issues with the publisher initially selected in New Zealand, believed to have delayed publication for several years, and it's been quite the frustrating wait, especially for 'airheads' in the antipodes (a surprising number in Australia). What we finally have in Through to the End, however, is nothing short of pure unadulterated brilliance. 

This book is a large format hardback of more than 360 pages (bibliography, glossary, roll of honour, index etc included). It is printed on a semi-gloss paper stock that allows the photos to be clearly reproduced throughout. Such a thing is a necessity for a unit history. The multitude of personalities, in particular, need to have 'faces put to names' as the narrative progresses, not relegated to a single glossy photo insert as can often be the case. Similarly, on the subject of images, lovely clear maps are often presented at the start of relevant chapters, allowing for quick referencing should the need arise. These maps are often of the same areas, but the relevant targets for the period are highlighted. Again, this is much preferred over one or two maps placed in fore or endpapers. 

Then there's the story itself. Happily, more than 130 pages pass before the Mosquitos arrive. Considerable effort is made to reflect the impact of the massive losses suffered by the squadron during the Ventura era (and in no way is this discounting the later Mosquito losses). This is what lifts this book above the relatively standard unit history with the Operations Record Book at its heart. Throughout, the writing is evocative, while remaining grounded, and paints quite the picture of squadron life and, combined with the memories of those who were there (in the air on both sides, on the ground, military and civilian alike), makes for the most captivating read. Indeed, in preparing this 'first impression', I was regularly lost, emerging several pages later either wrung out from an operation or shaking my head at just the thought of what these men did. This is the effect of David Palmer and his ability to bring everything together historically, creatively and accurately, tempered from his admitted 'storyteller's flights of fancy' by Aad Neeven's advocacy for 'hard historical fact'. 

Interestingly, some of the chapters are more or less dedicated to a particular airman, following his path to, and life on, the squadron. This is an effective tool as it allows the authors to concentrate on a particular individual, and his place in the unit history, and avoids disrupting the flow of the 'operational narrative' with an extensive biographical tangent.

Through to the End is the perfect literary tribute to 487 Squadron. While its size, and resultant cost, does not make it as accessible as contemporary squadron histories, some recently released, it is the equivalent of Graeme Gibson's Path of Duty and Owen Clark's Under Their Own Flag, and in some respects surpasses the benchmark set by those magnificent titles. I didn't think that was possible. While it took me a year after the book's release to buy a copy, thereby adding to the 'wait', all that time fades away as 487 Squadron is so wonderfully brought back to life.

ISBN 978-9-08264-7-532 

I bought my copy from the Air Force Museum of New Zealand. Given 2020 has not been terribly kind to museums, please consider, if you are in Australia or New Zealand, buying your copy from this organisation. With postage costs as they are at present, the mid-year worldwide increase making things just that much more difficult, and this being a large book, those of you in the Northern Hemisphere, would be best served by ordering from Aad Neeven's Aviation Warbooks (he's also the publisher of Through to the End).

Bomber Boys - Marianne Van Velzen

It’s always exciting when a new title is published on a subject that rarely appears in book form. I immediately think of Steve Bond and Richard Forder’s Special Ops Liberators and Graeme Gibson’s Path of Duty (and give a deserving nod to Craig Collie’s new Code Breakers) as relatively recent examples. Such was the case with this new book about the Dutch airmen who served in the RAAF’s No. 18 Squadron. To my knowledge, it has not been since Gordon Wallace wrote his two volumes in the 1980s, about his time with this unit, that 18 Squadron has appeared in a book dedicated to its memory. About the only title that might come close would be Doug Hurst’s The Fourth Ally. For students of the RAAF’s war, the sight of B-25 Mitchells in RAAF or Dutch colours is always a treat and more common than first thought. The great anticipation that came with the announcement and subsequent arrival of this book was found wanting, however.

Two twin brothers, both pilots in Java, narrowly escape the clutches of the rapidly advancing Japanese as they sweep all before them. While one brother manages to get away relatively cleanly, the other is momentarily detained, but escapes and makes his way to an airfield after meeting an Australian dispatch rider. The two of them repair a sabotaged Lockheed transport and make it to Australia where they come down on a Northern Territory cattle station. Both men are eventually posted to the nascent No. 18 (Netherlands East Indies) Squadron, and the twins reunited, which has been formed at the request of the Dutch authorities to make use of the stranded airmen. Great pilots like the legendary Gus Winckel and Guus Hagers are part of the scene as the unit gets to grips with its Mitchells and finally sees some action with anti-submarine patrols along Australia’s eastern coast.

In late 1942, the squadron moved to MacDonald in the Northern Territory. A poorly equipped airfield, it was nevertheless home to the squadron for six months before the move to Batchelor. From MacDonald, the first raids on East Timor and surrounds, including numerous anti-shipping ops, were flown. Losses were steady, but exacerbated by the lack of replacement crews, thus leaving the veterans to soldier on. A large contingent of Dutch had been sent to the United States for training as their compatriots stayed behind to form 18 Squadron. Relief, in the form of these new crews, did not arrive for almost a year after the move to the Top End. The original crews were then rested properly and, in the case of the twins, whom the narrative revolves around, one (the dashing one who is followed more closely) flies transports around Australia while the other, the more steady type, is tasked with setting up a Dutch fighter squadron.

The latter stages of the war saw the squadron heavily involved over some of its personnel’s former home and providing moral and physical support to the many prison camps in the region.

It’s a great story, exceedingly well told, of a group of airmen who, like the many ‘homeless’ European aircrew, refused to give up the fight. The nicely flowing narrative, built around the twins with a good supporting cast of Dutch and Australians alike, makes this an easy read. It is, however, eminently frustrating. You see, the twins are fictional characters created by the author after three interviewed veterans did not want their names used in the book. This is mentioned in the introduction and is nothing short of flabbergasting. Indeed, my first written note was “Fictional characters?! Why?!” What’s wrong with simply changing some names? If the actions of the twins, and I say ‘if’ because who knows what is true and what is not, are based on what some real chaps did, then surely those actions could be attributed to those real people if the reader did some digging. Changing the names would achieve exactly the same, but have a more authentic ring to it. By creating fictional characters, everything, from those they associate with, everything they do, to their entire story arc, is called into question. While the brothers were created out of the utmost respect, the reader is left wondering just what actually happened and what is fictional.

For a squadron that flew more than 900 sorties during the war, there is precious little of their action recounted here. What is included reveals an almost complete lack of aviation and combat flying knowledge on behalf of the author and subsequent editors which is quite surprising given the aviation history pedigree of the publisher. It borders on cringeworthy and is certainly not limited to the operational flying details. It is misleading for those who don’t know and embarrassing for those who do. It’s been a long time since I’ve written three A4 pages of notes for a book and the list of relatively basic aviation and general wartime terminology and chronology errors took up most of those pages. More effort was seemingly put into describing the dashing twin’s love life, the physical attributes of his lovers, and his reactions to them.

The most authentic part of this book is a very good photo section that features many of the real people who gave their all in the service of this squadron. Lack of aviation knowledge aside, Bomber Boys reads like a novel, albeit very well, but cannot really be called the story of 18 Squadron. After all, it would be lucky to mention ten percent of the aircrew involved and only concentrates on four or five main characters, two of which didn’t exist. The men arriving from the United States are given exceptionally short shrift yet they faced the same dangers and challenges and were as much a part of the squadron as the old hands. The reader is left with not really knowing what to believe. An existing knowledge of the unit does help, but this typically attractive Allen & Unwin paperback will most likely be seen and bought by those who want to learn just what the Dutch did. The opportunity to learn, however, is barely realised by this book. With luck, it will serve as a signpost that will lead readers deeper into the air war in this region, but the men, Dutch and Australian, of this bomber squadron deserve far better.

ISBN 978-1-76029-647-6

Pathfinder Cranswick - Michael Cumming

I came to the story of Alec Cranswick quite by accident.  As I’ve mentioned before on ABR, I was reading Chris Ward’s 6 Group Bomber Command and came upon reference to Cranswick, the number of ops he’d flown and his dog, Kluva.  At the time I was heavily involved in an excellent, but now defunct, Commonwealth forces-focussed internet forum so I asked the question there.  Numerous responses ensued, it became apparent a book had been written in the ‘60s and, although he didn’t make his identity immediately known, author Michael Cumming posted about the ongoing history of the book.  In short, it had been reprinted twice, become a well-regarded classic, updated with new information and was about to be released as an e-book.

I could not justify the exorbitant prices being asked for the first edition nor could I, try as I might, get hold of the more affordable self-published 2005 (??) edition.  In the meantime I had been chatting with the author and became fascinated with, and a keen supporter of, his mission to keep the Cranswick story alive for future generations.  The e-book was his latest effort and was certainly a cheaper way of producing a new book.  Resigned to having to read an electronic copy, I bought and downloaded the e-book to the iPad and got stuck in.  This is where the journey really began as I was drawn into a remarkable world of dedication and phenomenal determination.

Coming out the other end, my head swam with the sheer feat of flying 107 bombing operations.  I found I recalled small details easily because the writing was honest and straight-forward yet managed to breathe life into things from deep within Cranswick’s soul.  However, the e-book was too clinical a medium.  There was passion and warmth here that needed to be in print in the most beautiful format there is – the hardback.  The end result is the 50^th anniversary edition – released in May 2012.  There are few aircrew-related hardbacks that surpass this beautifully-produced book.

Alec Cranswick was born in 1919 in Oxford but this is not when we first meet him.  Instead the reader’s introduction to this gentle but determined man is at the controls of a Lancaster as he waits, somewhat impatiently, for the green Very light that will send him and his crew on their way for the night’s op – this time to the Villeneuve-St.-Georges marshalling yards near Paris.  He is on his second tour with No. 35 Squadron of the Path Finder Force.  This opening chapter is the perfect study of an experienced Pathfinder crew and paints a picture of professionalism, efficiency and effectiveness.  For all that, though, for all the experience, for all the punctuality almost to the second over the target, this was to be their last operation as a crew and, for six of them, their last night alive.  They were a remarkable crew but, really, their loss was anything but.  Like so many before them, and so many after, they fell victim to a night fighter.  Experience could only count for so much.  Luck always played a large part.  This crew had the experience covered – both gunners had flown more than 30 ops, the bomb aimer had earned the DFC and Cranswick, DSO DFC, the quiet journeyman who just wanted to get on with the job, was flying his 107^th operation.  His luck, for so long a companion in the cockpit, abandoned him that night.

Cranswick grew up a happy child with a surprising grasp of the world around him from early on.  The inclusion of a poem, written at the age of six, is proof of this and is of a quality you will never find here (!).  Aviation was prevalent as Alec’s father, a WW1 veteran, realised his dream in the early 1920s and joined the RAF.  This, sadly, did not end happily as he was killed in a mid-air collision in 1928.  It was, of course, a turning point for the young Cranswick.  He was now the man of the house but he also knuckled down at school to ensure he and his mother and sister had a future.  This, combined with the equally determined saving of his mother, allowed him to eventually attend St. Edward’s in Oxford.  The school has a close association with the RAF and, when Alec graduated to become an Old Boy, he joined a group that included Douglas Bader, Guy Gibson, Adrian Warburton and other remarkable men.

Cranswick, somewhat enamoured by the Mounties of Canada, joined the Metropolitan Police in 1937 but found the work depressing.  It was clear war was coming and he saw this an opportunity to finally realise his dream of flying for a living.  When war finally came, and Bomber Command was making its first leaflet raids and attacks on strictly military installations, Cranswick was building hours on the Tiger Moth as a newly-minted RAF recruit.  With barely 50 hours in his logbook he opted for multi-engine training as he saw the bomber as the most effective way to take the fight to the enemy.

Wellingtons were the ‘big’ bomber of the RAF at the time and Cranswick was fortunate, after training on them, to be posted to No. 214 Squadron in Suffolk as a second pilot.  This was mid-1940 and before the four-engined heavies flown by one pilot with assistance from a flight engineer.  Our man was expected to fly operations with a more experienced pilot until deemed fit to lead a crew, and a new second pilot, himself.  At the age of 20, after just eight ops, Cranswick was given this opportunity after proving himself a competent pilot and, most importantly, incredibly reliable and cool under pressure.  Twenty years old, 300 hours in his logbook and flying over Occupied Europe in the dark.

His tour with 214 was by no means an easy one.  Cranswick’s determination to find and hit the target was often tempered by hitting an alternate but more than once he pressed on and on to get the job done.  It was his duty.  He was certain that what he did would help shorten the war even in the dark days of late 1940.  RAF Bomber Command was by no means the ruthlessly efficient machine it was to become in the near future.  Small forces of bombers were sent out and, affected by the defences, performance, weather and experience, many crews often found themselves bombing alone over what they thought to be the target.  Everything was, for want of a better word, rudimentary.  Everything, that is, except for the men in the bombers.  They pressed on and crews like Cranswick’s survived flak damage, forced-landings on decoy airfields, icing and even accidentally switching on the landing lights while over the target!

Cranswick dreaded the thought of being taken off ops at the end of his tour and, as an indication of his leadership, his crew did not want to be broken up.  Volunteering for a posting to the Mediterranean seemed the thing to do.  After some false starts, and a long flight to Malta, the crew joined No. 148 Squadron and flew on ops attacking mainly enemy airfields and shipping with particular success against Italian warships.  Cranswick found Malta’s history fascinating and immersed himself in the culture and was inspired to write a poetic tribute to the island’s stoic population.  What he saw in their courage and determination to keep on was a reflection of himself.

A move to North Africa proper saw a number of ops in support of the land campaign before Cranswick was unable to escape the inevitable and was posted for a rest.  Happily, he was to keep flying by ferrying aircraft along the Takoradi route.  Starting on Africa’s Gold Coast, the aircraft, having been delivered by ship and assembled, would be delivered to operational units on the other side of the continent.  Shortly after arriving at the coast, however, Cranswick was struck down by malaria.  Several bouts of this debilitating disease, and then scarlet fever, would not see him active, flying or otherwise, for more than a fortnight at a time and this went on for almost six months.  If anything, it was an enforced rest but the effects of the malaria in particular would continue to plague him.

Cranswick gratefully returned to ops with his old 148 Squadron in October 1941 and passed his half-century in terms of bombing sorties flown.  He was to experience another enforced rest when he was posted home.  He returned to a Bomber Command that was very different to when he had left.  Technology, navigational aids and greater co-ordination were making their presence felt.  This only served to increase Cranswick’s desire to return to operations.  He was not, however, in good health.  Until he was fully fit he was, despite his protestations, charged with instructing on the Liberator and also delivering motivational speeches to factory workers.  He missed flying on operations though.  Although he had had some close calls and seen things that still haunted him, ops seemed to be the solution to, and cause of, his problem.  It was not that he needed a ‘fix’.  He felt he had not done his job and there was much, much more work to be done.

Finally, he was posted to a Halifax conversion unit, where he met his rear gunner and navigator (men who would be with him almost to the end), and then to No. 419 Squadron RCAF as the all-Canadian No. 6 Group formed.  Cranswick’s experience and illness had changed him.  The determination was still there, of course, but he was now more reserved preferring the quietness of his room and classical music instead of the general melee that was the mess or local pub.  It was a measure of his strength of character, and his leadership in the air, that his desire to keep to himself was not questioned or criticised by his crew and peers.  His was an existence of contemplation and intense focus on the job at hand.  He was not without a sense of humour or compassion, however, as evidenced by his German Shepherd puppy, Kluva, who, in early January 1943, had his own logbook and a good dose of flying experience.  Kluva was soon to become well-known with another squadron when Cranswick, having volunteered himself and his crew, joined No. 35 Squadron and the Path Finder Force.

To be continued … my eyes are falling out of my head but I HAD to post this on the 70^th anniversary of Cranswick’s death.

But wait, there's more to come

Time certainly does fly when you’re having fun. It doesn’t seem that long ago when Steve Brew’s momentous work on No. 41 Squadron’s war from 1942-45 – Blood, Sweat And Valour – was being brought forth into the world. I can still remember, it was only January 2013 after all, the immense package being delivered to the door. The courier seemed a bit more puffed than usual and, in the background, I could see the suspension on his van only just beginning to recover. I was soon to find out why.

BSV is physically surprising. As I said in the review, it is more than 900 pages long, quite heavy and very imposing yet maintains a manageability when it comes to handling. It’s just as surprising, pleasingly so, on the inside. The illustrations and detail are staggering but it is easy to read despite the necessary ‘evils’ required of a squadron history/diary. This is one of two squadron history titles that I use as a benchmark for all others (the other being Graeme Gibson’s magnificent Path Of Duty). It has clearly been an epic undertaking and the author is about to do it all again as he rapidly approaches the final stages of his latest project.

Blood, Sweat And Courage is Volume Two but, obviously, really Volume One of the squadron’s history. It will cover the period from September 1939 to July 1942 and complete the wartime saga begun by BSV. The book will be in the same format and contain the level of detail experienced in BSV. Much of the information detailing the squadron’s operations over Dunkirk and during the Battle Of Britain has been gathered from previously unavailable personal accounts, combat reports and intelligence reports. As expected BSC will be superbly illustrated with an array of tables, sketches and maps ably supported by more than 350 photographs. There will even be eight colour aircraft profiles so there will be truly something for everyone to sink their teeth in to.

The release of Blood, Sweat And Courage towards the end of this year will be the culmination of 11 years of research into the wartime history of No. 41 Squadron. The two books, using BSV as the example, exceed all expectations but combined they will be a shining light for their genre. Simply brilliant. Keep an eye out for BSC later in the year (news of its cover and launch will be reported here) and be sure to warn your postman or courier driver! If he or she delivered a copy of David Vincent’s The RAAF Hudson Story Book Two, Neville Parnell’s Beaufighters In The Pacific or the new edition of The Bomber Command War Diaries then they’ll have a fair idea of what to expect. Steve Brew’s books are easily on a par with these classic, comprehensive and weighty titles. Just superb.

It's a boy!

Wow, do I have a great excuse for not posting anything in October!  Our son was born on October 7 and the time since then has, naturally, been a blur.  Everyone is doing well and Paddy's big sister is loving helping us around the house.  I don't know when I'll get the next review up but I am still planning to have more posts than what was a quiet 2012.

There are some very exciting books on the horizon but they escape me at present!  Graeme Gibson's magnificent Path Of Duty is being posted to customers as we speak so if you haven't ordered a copy now is your chance.  If you're a Beaufighter fan, Graeme's second volume is not too far away.

Speaking of Bristol's finest, I was excited to discover recently that David Whishaw's family still has a number of copies of his That Airman! (originally published in the mid-1990s).  The book details his time as a Beaufighter pilot with No. 455 Squadron RAAF as it conducted anti-shipping strikes in the North Sea and along the Norwegian coast line.  If you missed out on this nice hardback when it was originally released you will be able to pick it up for A$25 plus postage.  All proceeds go to the family. They are very keen to see David's story reach a new audience. If you are interested in a copy, drop me a line.  I will be running a review of the book in the near future.

I trust this finds you all well and hope you are reading a great aircrew book at present.

Path Of Duty - Graeme Gibson

Regular readers will have noticed my excited anticipation and references to this forthcoming book over the past year.  Its subject matter and planned production values promised something of great worth.  I was fortunate to visit the author before Christmas 2012 and be shown his research and what he’s collected to make this two-volume history a reality.  Although I’ve had a fair insight as to what was coming the result has been beyond my wildest expectations.  Path Of Duty is the most beautiful book I have ever seen.

No. 16 Squadron, South African Air Force, has never had its history written before.  Like the equivalent RAAF units, the squadron is not widely known outside of its mother country but this does not make the history any less important.  And what a history it is.  Name some of the more obscure actions/campaigns in Africa during WW2 and you’re almost guaranteed to find 16 Squadron.  First created to patrol the South-West Cape early in the war (South Africa wanting to be seen to be ready for war when, in reality, it wasn’t), the squadron’s first incarnations were short-lived.  It was not until the campaign against the Italians in Abyssinia (Ethiopia) that the unit finally gained some permanence.  Flying Ju-86s, including former South African Airways aircraft, the squadron played a considerable and valuable part in removing the Italians from East Africa before disbanding yet again. 

It eventually returned to the SAAF’s strength with Beauforts and Marylands – No. 20 Squadron renamed - and participated in the Madagascar campaign before moving to Kenya and returning to its roots flying Bisleys on maritime patrols.  North Africa beckoned in early 1943, Beaufighters arrived and the unit became a strike squadron.

Path Of Duty records the squadron’s history up to the arrival of the Beaufighters.  Far from being a dry history, the narrative is masterfully crafted to be very readable and informative (the chapter detailing the social and conflict history of Abyssinia had me rapt).  Artwork - paintings, profiles and pencil sketches - has been specially commissioned for the book.  The colour plates are simply glorious with exceptional colour reproduction.  Combined with the narrative, they bring the book to life.  The sketches and paintings - the same idea used in the author’s earlier Coastal Strike (the biography of John Clements DFC) to cleverly illustrate scenes not featured in the many photographs found throughout  - have to be seen to be believed. The two South African artists, Sean Thackwray and Darryl Legg, deserve a much larger audience. They are truly superb at what they do.  The cover image is just the tip of the iceberg.

Appendices provide airframe histories – ably supported by more than 20 highly accurate colour profiles - and the bibliography is an education in itself.  I still can't grasp the enormity of the whole thing.  It delivers on everything it promised ... and then some.  Every inch of it exudes quality.  The paper stock is top notch and the photo reproduction is perfect.  The only thing I can equate it to is a classic book on bird-watching.  You know, one of those very tactile, beautiful books complete with colour plates and detailed observations (POD even includes sketches of bird, animal, insect and plant life as encountered by the squadron – it’s that type of comprehensive and thoughtful history).  At almost 500 pages this is not a small book but it is certainly manageable and the whole package is an absolute delight.

Path Of Duty is Volume One of a two-volume squadron history.  It is not yet available in stores or online but place an order with the author before the end of October and you will be able to buy a copy for A$75 which is the greatest bargain you will see for some time (A$88 after October which is still bloody incredible value for money!) – graemegibson6ATbigpond.com

The second book, Road To Glory, is currently in its first draft.  There may also be a third volume concentrating on the wartime story of a Beaufighter crew (they both kept good diaries) who flew with the squadron.