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

Too Young To Die - Bryan Cox

On 1 July 2018, well-known New Zealand pilot Bryan Cox made headlines when he flew a Tiger Moths he had flown in wartime training. He had only just returned to active flying several months earlier, having relinquished his licence some years before with more than 20,000 hours to his credit. For a veteran to be reunited with a former mount, and still be able to fly it legally, is particularly rare. To some extent, Mr. Cox has youth on his side. That’s a funny thing to say for a 93-year old, but he was eighteen when he learned to fly and not even 21 when he saw the war’s end. What makes him ‘well-known’, however, beyond being a living link to our past, is the books he has written. His air force memoir, Too Young To Die, remains one of the very few accounts of RNZAF Corsairs, or any Kiwi fighters for that matter, in action in the South Pacific. It also makes the author’s choice of post-war career abundantly clear.

Bryan Cox grew up on farming properties and was still at school when war broke out. When he signed up for the air force, having emulated Tiger Moth flying in a Model A Ford with the top down and pining over diving Kittyhawks, three of his cousins had already been lost (and he would lose his brother in early 1944). Young Cox soloed in November 1943 and was posted to 4 OTU at Ohakea to fly Kittyhawks in August 1944. His talent in the air is evident, but what is really interesting is the scientific approach to the training. His time on Kittyhawks, in particular, was one of experimentation, analysis and the testing of theories developed on the ground. Some of the experimentation was a result of seeing his colleagues come to grief, fatally on occasion, and wanting to understand what got them into that situation and, most importantly, how to get out of it. While he escaped major incidents, the author had his fair share of close shaves and learned from them.

A mere month after converting to Kittyhawks, Bryan converted to Corsairs. While a heavy, powerful fighter like the Curtiss machine, the Corsair was a completely new challenge. Likening the climb to the cockpit as something only surpassed by Sir Edmund Hillary some years later (one of many amusing quips throughout the book), the ever studious Cox quickly got to grips with one of the most potent fighter aircraft of the period. Again, the exuberance of young men flying the leading technology of the day got the better of some of his colleagues, but the majority of them made it through. As part of 16 Squadron RNZAF, Bryan arrived at Henderson Field, Guadalcanal, in November 1944.

The New Zealanders were well established at Henderson, but the relatively Spartan island life, despite the advantages of operating alongside the always well-supplied Americans, took some getting used to. They were soon off to Green Island, however. The author injured his knee with a machete, and was unable to walk for ten days, so his first flight from Green Island did not occur until 5 January 1945. It was the beginning of a very busy year.

Operations from Green Island consisted of many patrols over the Rabaul area to harrass the Japanese there. Aircraft were inevitably lost over the heavily defended harbour and it was on return from a failed rescue mission for one of these pilots that Bryan had what was easily his closest shave with death. The weather closed in on the returning Corsairs and the author, in trying to see his instruments in the gloom, managed to switch off his battery and, therefore, his lights and radio. Somehow avoiding other aircraft in the formation, and the sea, Bryan, noting his dwindling fuel, was contemplating his impending death when a fortuitous lightning flash revealed the distinctive coastline of Green Island. A ropey landing saw him home, but eight of his compatriots were lost. It was Cox’s twentieth birthday.

His first tour over, Bryan returned to New Zealand in mid-February, but the squadron was on its way to Espiritu Santo in the New Hebrides (now Vanuatu) on 1 April. They were there for less than a month before heading to Bougainville. The island was still partly occupied by the Japanese who were fending off a large Australian Army contingent. The squadron soon established a routine of close support sorties to assist the advancing Australians. Targets were rarely obvious so intelligence often came from coastwatchers, locals or RAAF Boomerangs. These aircraft often marked the targets for the Kiwi Corsairs as well. Bryan’s tour ended in late June after 34 operational sorties over Bougainville.

After leave, reforming and working up, the squadron arrived at Jacquinot Bay, New Britain, on 14 August. This new base was the replacement for Green Island. With the surrender of the Japanese, there was little to do, but the Corsairs kept flying with patrols, ferry flights and escorts of Japanese aircraft. Entertainment was sparse, so it was with some relief that Bryan headed for home in late October. He’s application to join the Occupation Squadron in Japan had not been successful so he said farewell to the faithful Corsair to await his discharge.

This was not forthcoming, however, as he joined 14 Squadron which was to be the headquarters unit for the occupying Commonwealth air strength. Besides learning new combat tactics, such as rocket attacks, the squadron also had to be proficient at ceremonial drill. Japan was to be an eye-opener for the young man, only just promoted to warrant officer, and a lot different from the airstrips hacked out of jungle and coral.

Everything the soon to be self-sustaining squadron needed was loaded onto the aircraft carrier HMS Glory in early March 1946. Bryan did not fly in Japan until late May, but the real adventure was on the ground. Relations with the locals, many of whom worked for the occupying units, are fascinating to discover after so many years of war. The occupying forces, too, while largely respectful of their hosts and dedicated to the work at hand, certainly enjoyed themselves. It’s an interesting dynamic as these men volunteered to serve a long way from home in peacetime when there must have been a strong urge to just stop. As a (still) very young man, it is clear Bryan felt he just wasn’t ready to quit. Returning to New Zealand in April 1947, Bryan struggled to settle down, but eventually started flying again in 1956, worked in air traffic control and set up his own flying school.

There’s perhaps three major points that stand out in Too Young To Die. Firstly, as mentioned above, it is an uncommon memoir of flying for the RNZAF in the South Pacific. Secondly, the considerable detail of life in Japan, essentially a well put together series of extended anecdotes, is rarer still. Happily, it takes up about a third of the book and should be regarded as one of the most important accounts from that interesting, slightly bizarre, period. It is the perfect foil for the wartime operational life the author lived. The description of Japanese culture, stripped of so much, yet holding tight to tradition (perhaps the best way to start afresh), and their almost non-plussed acceptance of the occupying forces, at least as largely recounted here, is the unsung hero of this book. Yes, get excited about the operational Corsair flying over the Pacific islands, but revel in the almost unique account of life in post-war Japan. Finally, the author’s natural aptitude as a teacher, and his career as a flying instructor, permeates almost every page. Be it a Tiger Moth, Kittyhawk or Corsair, if Bryan is learning something new as part of a course, testing a theory that is very much not part of a course, or simply explaining a routine flight, operational or otherwise, his years of instructing take over. Not a word is wasted. At one stage in my notes I’ve written “Okay, Bryan, what are you going to teach me now?” and that’s exactly what it’s like. The man is a natural storyteller which, I reckon, combined with his flying abilities and innate understanding of aeronautics, gleaned from theory and much experimentation, makes him a superb writer and effective teacher. Too Young To Die is not unique in this aspect, but, again, it is uncommon.

He knows what the reader wants too. His childhood is kept very brief with enough there to pique an interest, but avoiding the extended ‘family tree’ that can often bog down an otherwise excellent book early on. These sections are valuable to know where a man has come from, and they can make for fascinating reading, but are often more suited to the appendices. Speaking of which, there are four here of the biographical and airframe fate type. The one negative is that there is no index. Even a simple personnel index would have been of considerable value here, but the biographical appendix allays this deficiency somewhat. This, however, is a minor blip for a book that is now over thirty years old. The narrative is repetitive here and there with little factoids about ops and other details popping up again, but with so many sorties blending into each other, it’s necessary to reiterate aspects of the ones that stand out.

Bryan Cox is a treasure and I hope he is regarded as such beyond the aviation community in New Zealand. His gift to many has been the effective, almost unassuming, transfer of his knowledge of what it takes to be an aviator. Not just a pilot, an aviator. His audience is not limited to those sitting next to him in the cockpit. With Too Young To Die, and his other books, he has passed this wisdom, to a lesser extent, but no less clear, on to thousands of readers. No doubt some of those readers will have never controlled an aircraft themselves. With luck, Bryan’s writing has stirred something in a few of them and they’ve caught the bug, be it the bug for aviation history, the bug for flying, or both. That is what we, as aircrew book enthusiasts, all hope these books can do. Those of us with groaning bookshelves and long-suffering, but understanding partners, are already converted. We will love and respect these books, and the men within, almost unconditionally. It is the casual reader, the occasional reader, the aviation novice, that we always dream these books will capture. He may not have set out to entrance the non-enthusiast, but Bryan’s natural talent certainly makes it possible. While not a fighter ace, he survived and then took the time to record how he did. His legacy, and his legend, continues to make headlines. What a man. What a book.

ISBN 0-8138-0205-9

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.