A Most Secret Squadron - Des Curtis DFC

As I sit down to write this I’m struggling with the familiar problem of what to write about without giving the game away. Squadron or unit histories are, as a rule, tricky to review without sounding like a calendar of events. There has to be enough detail to inform the reader/prospective buyer ... but not too much. So, reading something about a squadron whose aircrew trained long and hard for an operation that never happened ... well, only so much can be said really. However add in two highly secret weapons, limited combat ops, a very personal account of squadron life and cram it into less than 200 pages and all of sudden this review has more areas to cover than this squadron did training flights. Do not allow my vague meanderings above to divert you from one point – Des Curtis’ A Most Secret Squadron: The Story of No. 618 Squadron RAF is the only title that records the entire history of these most secret Mosquitos and their crews.

Barnes Wallis fans will know 618 was formed to carry a smaller version of the ‘famous’ bouncing bomb so effectively used by No 617 Squadron. Both squadrons were unaware of the other’s existence and the secrecy surrounding the units and the weapons was so effective that, when the success of the dams raid was revealed to the world, the members of 618 had no idea their Lancaster-flying colleagues had employed a weapon that used the same principles as theirs.

The two squadrons, though, were very much alike and, to some extent, their experiences in the early stages correlate. Both were formed to deliver a weapon that was still in trials and had to be deployed effectively ahead of a rapidly approaching deadline. Once this deadline passed and the weapons – or, more correctly, the ‘stores’ – had been used by either, or both, squadrons, the cat would be out of the bag. This is where the paths of 617 and 618 diverge, as we know, with the successful attack on the dams by the former. ‘Our’ squadron however had a wholly different operation to contend with. Indeed, it was a target the CO of 617, Guy Gibson, was relieved to find he would not be flying against – the German battleship Tirpitz.

Anchored in a variety of progressively distant Norwegian fjords, Tirpitz was an ever-present threat to the Russian convoys and the battle for the Atlantic as a whole. When/if she sailed, she had the potential to wreak havoc. Fortunately, hamstrung by German High Command’s fear of losing her, Tirpitz spent the majority of her time in service hiding from the RAF and RN. However, in doing so, she tied up considerable numbers of aircraft and ships that would have been effectively used elsewhere. Of course saying that is with the benefit of hindsight whereas, at the time, she was a considerable threat that needed to be removed. So, among other initiatives, No. 618 Squadron was formed as part of Coastal Command in late March 1943 for the express purpose of removing this threat.

At the time of the squadron’s formation, Coastal Command’s few Mosquitos were flying photo reconnaissance and met flights. Bomber Command was well-equipped so, naturally, became a source for experienced crews whose numbers were complemented by veterans from several Coastal Beaufighter squadrons (the primary CC strike aircraft at the time). Straight away we have a problem with every crew arriving on squadron – they either had no experience flying anti-shipping operations or hadn’t even sat in a Mosquito! On top of this challenge the new CO of 618, Wing Commander GH ‘Hutch’ Hutchinson, had to ‘borrow’ aircraft (and ground crew) from bomber units in order to fly something while Mossies were pulled from the production line to be modified. Despite the TOP SECRET arrangements and the remoteness of their first base, RAF Skitten near RAF Wick in Scotland, the aircrew knew they and their colleagues were hand-picked so had an inkling they were in for something special. They didn’t have to wait long as by early April all had been briefed as to the target and the date for the operation barely a month in the future.

Really, the squadron was ‘up against it’ from the start. At the time of the briefing, Tirpitz was already sitting beyond the operational range of the Mosquito. This issue would continue to haunt the planning of the operation. To the credit of the crews they continued to practice low-level navigation and attacks against moored target ships knowing full well if they survived the guns of the Germans, a flight to Sweden or ‘friendly’ Russia on rapidly diminishing fuel still lay ahead. The analysis of the various contingencies thrown into the planning of the raid is where the book is at its most fascinating and the frustration obviously experienced by the crews at the continuing delays and problems (particularly navigating over a large expanse of water at low-level) is well conveyed by the author who, of course, was one-half of one of those crews.

Eventually, with attacks being made on Tirpitz by midget submarines and the like, the squadron began to appear redundant despite re-training for dropping the stores against U-boats and being considered for attacks on land-based targets (shades of 633 Squadron). As the workload decreased the aircrew turned to a variety activities as only aircrew can do. The writing was on the wall and the squadron, other than a core of skilled personnel, was dispersed in early September 1943 while technical trials with the weapon continued. So, that was the end of No 618 Squadron ... or so you’d think.

The Japanese fleet was still very active, and ‘live’ stores numerous, but the problem of range was again an issue so trials were conducted flying a Mosquito on and off an aircraft carrier. Within 10 months of ‘shutting up shop’ at RAF Skitten, 618 was again fully-manned – this task being much easier due to fourteen of the original crews being available and extra crews being sourced from the now large number of Mosquito units in Coastal Command service. With more dropping of inert stores combined with learning the art of operating from a carrier, the pace was hectic and in a perfect example of military organisation, the squadron found itself in Ceylon four months later en route to Australia.

With the Mosquitos reassembled and training well underway, time again became a negative factor on the squadron’s chances of being deployed operationally. By 1945, the Americans were rapidly approaching Japan and generally took a dim view to ‘specialist’ squadrons that required extra effort and resources to be accommodated at forward bases. Their own tests of the weapon had not gone well with at least one accident resulting in the loss of the aircraft (a video can be found on You Tube of this accident and it is clear the aircraft is much too low to begin with). As the Americans dictated what happened in the Pacific theatre, the squadron was again, more or less, cast aside – so much so squadron personnel assisted local farmers at harvest time. Several fatal crashes certainly did nothing for the morale of the squadron so it was with some apparent relief when, in July 1945, the men of 618 were again posted away. This was certainly the end of the squadron but, unbeknown to the frustrated Australian-based crews, some of their colleagues had been very busy in the waters around the UK.

A special detachment had been formed in October 1943 – barely a month after the squadron was dispersed at RAF Skitten – to operate the Mosquito Mk XVIII equipped with the ‘Molins gun’. While not the heaviest gun fitted operationally to an aircraft during the war, the 57mm, six-pound warhead firing Molins was nothing to be sneezed at. Several 618 crews were sourced and set about hunting surfaced U-boats in the Bay of Biscay. Flying from the very Coastal Command airfield of RAF Predannack, the author and his colleagues were to fly the only operational sorties of any of the various incarnations of 618 Squadron. It is at this stage in the book that the writing becomes very autobiographical as the author is a rare man among rare men – an operational member of a most secret squadron. Self-sufficient and highly-experienced despite the long period of training for the Tirpitz attack, the detachment was almost immediately successful in the anti-submarine role but not before losing its commander, S/L Charlie Rose DFM DFC, on its first sortie.

Attacks continued against progressively heavier-armed and escorted U-boats but the ‘Tsetse’ Mosquitos were now escorted by the more conventionally-armed Mossies of 248 Squadron. Encounters with Ju-88s were commonplace and the detachment was to have its most successful period in late March 1944 when two U-boats were mortally damaged. The detail of these attacks is absorbing and is ably supported by official reports of the time and, of course, the author’s vivid recollections.

Time was again running out for the detachment as the Germans were now well aware of the Molins gun so there was little point for the crews and their aircraft to be billeted away from the other Coastal crews at Predannack. The detachment became ‘C’ flight of 248 Squadron and attacks on all forms of German shipping continued with regular success. The ‘Tsetse’ Mossies continued flying until early January 1945 but the widespread use of rocket projectiles, which did not require massive modification of the airframe, meant the airborne artillery’s days were numbered from the start. Its effectiveness, though, proved that 618 Squadron, with the right weapon, could make a serious contribution.

As stated earlier the 200 or so pages of AMSS makes it an easy book to finish relatively quickly and the majority of the writing certainly makes the experience most pleasant. The initial introduction to the Battle of the Atlantic, as the author develops the context for 618’s formation, is a little hard to follow though. It’s almost as if numerous post-war sources were partly-referenced as the discussion is quite disjointed and slightly off-putting. While not the most promising of starts, the reader has to remember the author is looking back at events he was not directly involved in. These events, however, had a direct effect on him – he was assigned to 618. Trying to condense several years of warfare in (and over) the Atlantic into a few pages written 50 years later without getting bogged down in detail would be a serious challenge for anyone.

Like the Mossie crews the important thing is to persevere because once the book turns to the development and composition of the ‘bouncing bomb’ the writing improves markedly and improves yet again once the flying begins. It is clear the author is a lot more comfortable describing the life of the squadron especially since he and his pilot were one of its most successful crews. He writes of never-ending training, drops against target ships and the continuous speculation as to whether they would ever get to sortie in anger ... and how many of them would survive to tell the story. The frustration of the crews is, as mentioned above, palpable and well-handled with typical understated humour and a certain resignation to the task – strong men indeed. They were like 100-metre sprinters waiting for the starter’s gun. If it ever came, they’d be off in a flash and, most likely, things would be over quickly one way or the other. The majority of the 618 crews never got out of the starting blocks but for a lucky few the gun that started 618’s success was considerably larger than a starter’s pistol!

This is a book that needed to be written especially among the plethora of titles covering the more famous No. 617 Squadron. That the task fell to one of the few squadron members rather than a historian is all the more important as knowing the author witnessed many of the squadron’s major events adds an authenticity to the training, squadron life and the Tsetse operations. Fittingly, the book ends with a chapter about the author, his pilot and a former squadron mate meeting the captains of two of the U-boats they attacked ... forty years after the fact. It is a moving experience to read and a reminder that despite the squadron’s short, disrupted existence and limited time on operations, its legacy continues and its contribution should never be forgotten.

Grub Street’s new edition of this book is a welcome addition to the number of copies available as the original self-published work can be hard to find affordably. The edition I read is the self-published work from 1995. It is a well-produced book with useful appendices and a variety of photos printed on the same paper as the text.

On the photo front it was noted the second photo – a close up of the modified bomb bay – was printed upside-down. Along with the ‘clunky’ opening chapter, this type of thing would have benefitted from an editor’s professional eye so it is hoped Grub Street’s recent re-release of this title is more than just a carbon copy with a fancy new dust-jacket. That said, these are minor distractions from a story that is as rich and honest as any you will come across in this genre.

Footnote - The squadron’s base in Australia was Narromine which is three hours north of where I now sit. The museum there (and one in Sydney) has several major components from the squadron’s Mosquitos. That any part of a Mosquito survives is remarkable but something from 618? Priceless and simply astounding. Like the book and the surviving veterans, a very tangible link to a unique squadron.

Far North Queensland

Well, here I am in FNQ - Cairns to be exact - a couple of days early for a course (work, honest!) and I've had the chance to travel around a little bit and check out a few things. I'm leaving a lot of things for when my wife and I make it up here but I've managed to visit Mareeba aerodrome but, sadly, did not see much to inspire me in terms of the history of the place. I definitely should have done a bit more research as to what to look for but other than Beaufort Street and a couple of plaques/signs (and a closed aviation 'museum'), there's little to tell the casual visitor that is was once a thriving (and large) wartime airfield teeming with RAAF and USAAF aircraft (a visit to the nearby Syd Beck collection helps in that respect). A flick through Damien Waters' Beaus, Butchers and Boomerangs would have been the smart thing to do.

Every day of this trip I've been able to look out over the waterfront of Cairns - home to Catalinas during the war (check out Brett Freeman's Lake Boga At War and, of course, David Vincent's Catalina Chronicle and AE Minty's Black Cats) - and out to the Coral Sea. However probably the book I am reminded of most of all has little to do with the subject of this website. The wonderfully named Marsden Hordern wrote the equally wonderful A Merciful Journey which covers his days in the small ships of the Royal Australian Navy. Eventually becoming the skipper of several small patrol boats, Hordern, also a Captain Cook afficianado, worked these waters and those north to New Guinea during the war. His command pulled into Cairns on several occasions and, remembering this as I looked at the RAN's current patrol boat base this morning, I wondered if that was the very wharf he tied up to. It really adds to the reading experience (even though I read the book in 2008) when you're able to see the same things the author did. It does pay to leave the armchair on occasion!

The last autobiography to be written by an NZ fighter ace?

As we get further into the 21st Century the ranks of surviving wartime veterans are, of course, sadly thinning. Barely a couple of days pass without reading yet another obituary of someone who faced the unimaginable but survived to make the most of a long post-war life. I've unfortunately found it's often the first time I've heard of the person but it's never to late to honour a life well lived.

Of the few New Zealand fighter aces still with us some, like Alan Peart and Jim Sheddan, have written their memoirs but according to Larry Hill, a well-known New Zealand aviation bibliophile and a man in the know in such matters, it is likely that the new book by Wing Commander Owen Hardy DFC* - Through My Eyes: Memories of a life in the Royal Air Force in war and peace - will be the last by a Kiwi ace.

As much as I respect Larry I do hope he is wrong on this occasion and I think he would agree. Having said that, if Through My Eyes does turn out to be the last by a living New Zealand ace, what a way to end this unique genre. Owen Hardy served with 485 Squadron in the UK and was hand-picked by Brian Kingcombe to fly in North Africa. Post-war he remained in the RAF and led a Vampire display team in Germany before becoming a big-wheel in terms of developing the RAF's defence strategy. Several months ago Dave Homewood of the Wings Over New Zealand forum interviewed Mr Hardy, the first to do so, and has commented that the book will be loaded with many previously unseen photos and that, if the interview is anything to go by, the publicity-shy author will have written a brilliant book.

Convinced? Visit the link below and buy 298 pages of what is an historic book whichever way you look at it.

Through My Eyes

The Hudsons are coming, the Hudsons are coming!

Further to news of the publication of Book Two of The RAAF Hudson Story reported on ABR earlier, I received an email from author David Vincent confirming he was hoping for a July release. He is currently tying up loose ends and can see the light at the end of the tunnel (yikes, I'm in love with cliches) but "the project seems never-ending ... [however] the delays in completion have allowed for some additional 'new' photos plus the most detailed text on the subject to date." David added if the book missed July it would certainly be out in August.

Book Two will have just four chapters - Operations North Western Area, Operations North Eastern Area, Transports and Air Ambulances and Post-war Survivors - but, as David says, "some new ground has been covered or at least some old ground dug over really well!" If Book One is anything to go by, Book Two will be a masterpiece. While referencing the still unread Book One recently I was amazed at the detailed analysis given to the lead-up to war with the Japanese and the involvement of the RAAF Hudsons in finding the elusive invasion fleet. Superbly researched and written, it was an education to say the least.

Details regarding pricing etc will be forthcoming at a later date (when I know, you’ll know). If you would like to express interest in a copy of Book Two, please email David on djvincentATchariot.net.au (replacing the AT with @).

Coming Soon

The latest book from Bomber Barron author Richard Stowers. Yet to be published but further details shortly.

Richard now has a website - www.richardstowers.co.nz

Hostile Company - Alan Peart DFC in action

You're probably wondering why I'm writing about an art print when this is a book review site. Well, one of the books in my collection, and one of the better memoirs to be published in recent years, is From North Africa To The Arakan by New Zealand Spitfire ace Alan McGregor Peart DFC. With the assistance of Kiwi aviation historian Larry Hill (author of the recently released An Aviation Bibliography for New Zealand - possibly one of the most 'dangerous' books ever published ... dangerous to your wallet!), Alan has commissioned artist Ron Fulstow to capture one of his more dicey flights. Alan provides a brief outline of the action:

"During the Japanese assault on Imphal, in Burma, [81 Squadron] provided air cover over the second Chindit expedition approximately 200 miles behind the Japanese lines. It did this from a strip code-named 'Broadway'. It was from this strip that an air battle took place between two of our Spitfires and more than 20 Japanese fighters. The sole surviving Spitfire is shown in combat in the print."

The date was March 17, 1944 and the other Spitfire was flown by S/L William 'Babe' Whitamore DFC who was a remarkably experienced fighter pilot having flown in the UK and North Africa with 66, 92, 112 and 601 Squadrons before joining 81 in India. During the action on March 17 - in which he and Alan were jumped by more than 20 Oscars as they took off from 'Broadway' - he added an Oscar to his score of 8.5 victories before being killed by fire from the three Japanese aircraft on his tail. Alan meanwhile flew for his life for the next 40 minutes until the Oscars had to turn for home low on fuel but not before losing one of their number to a head-on pass against our hero.

Only one opportunity to hit back occurred when one of the Oscars tried a head-on attack and we both fired at each other. I saw cannon strikes on his fuselage before he shot past and the army later confirmed to me that he had crashed. - page 162, FNATTA.

Alan's aircraft did not escape entirely unscathed though with the Mk VIII being hit behind the cockpit by a cannon shell which exploded under the seat. Fortunately the armour plate protected Alan from injury. However he threw the Spitfire around the sky (and the Oscars) to such an extent that upon later inspection it was found "the tail rivets were sprung, the wings had extra dihedral, and the engine mounting was damaged."

So, certainly a remarkable action to reproduce in a painting. Interestingly, research by Alan and Larry indicates this is possibly the only art print to depict an RAF Spitfire in action against Japanese aircraft.

Now the business side of things. Other than Alan's signature, the print is also signed by F/L WJ Robinson who joined 81 in early 1943 and also served with 485 Sqn in the UK; F/L Clarke, another 485 Sqn flyer; and F/L Laugeson, a ferry pilot who delivered Spitfires across Africa to the Middle East squadrons.

The print itself is printed on top quality art paper and measures 840 by 580mm and is priced at NZ$205 including P&P. For customers in the UK, the print is available for 75.00 GBP including P&P. If you are lucky to own a numbered copy of Alan's book (sold direct by Alan) he will try to send you the matching numbered print for the special price of NZ$170 including P&P. All prints come with a certificate of authenticity and a letter from Alan giving a few details of the action. A very limited number of Remarque copies are also available but you will need to speak to Alan for further information on these.

If you are interested in this wonderful print, please contact Alan at alan.peartATxtra.co.nz (replacing the AT with @ of course). Alan will reply with details for payment.

I know what I will be adding to my wall in the near future!

Incidentally, the two books mentioned above - Alan's From North Africa To The Arakan and Larry Hill's An Aviation Bibliography For New Zealand - will be reviewed on ABR in the near future.

Under A Bomber's Moon - Stephen Harris

Every book is a journey. A good writer can make even a seemingly mundane assignment riveting to the point the reader is right there with him or her. But what about the ‘professional’ author, the enthusiast or the newcomer to the genre - none of whom lived the events they describe? Sure they are recounting the experiences of others but what about their journey from initial idea to published author? Often it is touched upon in the introduction and the rest of the book is dedicated to the subject matter. There is always a story behind the story. One might think it would distract from the main focus and, in some cases, no doubt this conclusion is correct. With Stephen Harris’ Under A Bomber’s Moon, however, what is really three stories in one works to enhance the reader’s experience.

UABM is as much a story of the author’s education in the bomber war as it is a tale of two airmen involved in that war. A journalist in Germany at the start of this century, the author in some respects brings several desirable skills to his quest – professional research and writing and the ability to speak German.

His project begins with family stories about his great uncle Colwyn Jones. These stories are ably supported by beautifully written letters by Col to his mother in New Zealand. Also a journalist – having completed a Master of Arts and working at the Auckland Star for 11 years – Col joins up and becomes a navigator with 149 Squadron. He is significantly older than the majority of Bomber Command aircrew and, to some extent, this is reflected in his observations and comments. He completes a hectic tour (more of that later) of 33 ops with 149, is awarded the DFC, serves as bombing leader with 1651 HCU and is then posted to 115 Squadron to serve as navigation officer. He flew one op during his seven month stay with 115 before losing his life on his first trip with 7 Squadron Pathfinder Force. Posthumously awarded a Mention In Dispatches I will tell you now his death left me feeling empty. He was a talented writer and navigator and was one of those people who everyone just seemed to warm to. Of course he had his close friends, many of whom were lost while he continued on, and Col’s letters (and the author’s writing) capture everything from immense joy to terrible sadness. The first, full-page photograph reproduced in the book is a portrait of Col and the big, toothy smile, tidy moustache, bright, smiling eyes and cap at a slight angle tell you almost everything you need to know about this man.

The letters written by Col are at the core of this book and, naturally, the author has expanded on them with contextual research. This research led – as research often does – to several instances of pure luck and, effectively, being in the right place at the right time. Early on, the author recounts the story of Col’s crew ditching their Stirling in the North Sea after an epic trip to Essen in early June 1942. In the course of his research Stephen acquires a CD of wartime BBC radio recordings of bomber crew broadcasting their experiences. Imagine his surprise when one of these recordings proves to be Col’s skipper, Eric Whitney, talking about the ditching. Having two personal recollections of such an event would be a boon for any aviation writer and the author certainly makes good use of this opportunity. However perhaps the most fortuitous opportunity to ‘cross his bows’ was the chance to meet and interview Otto Fries – a former Luftwaffe night fighter pilot whose tally of RAF bombers shot down is well into double figures. Otto’s story is given equal weight to Col’s and in many ways acts as a fascinating foil to what otherwise would have been ‘another’ well-written account of ‘another’ remarkable Commonwealth airman.

Otto flew the Me 110 and He 219 during his night fighter career but, while he obviously made an impact, his war was certainly not one-sided. Remarkably he and his radar operator survived being shot down several times by both RAF night fighters and the defensive guns of the bombers they hunted. Indeed his war could just as easily have made a book on its own. While I am familiar with the aircraft used by the Luftwaffe and their general ‘MO’, this was definitely the first time I had had a window into the minutae of a German flier’s life. What I knew already was that young fliers, no matter what nationality, were essentially all the same. It was just the uniforms, language and aircraft that were different. However, Otto’s memories and experiences also make a serious contribution that is not often encountered in books about Commonwealth aircrew – he gives the Germans a face. How often are Germans referred to as just a Ju 88 or Me 109 or even mere trucks or trains on the ground? This is usually out of necessity and due to a story being told by the person who experienced it (and all they would have seen was the machine). It is refreshing, therefore, to see what the night skies over Germany were like for ‘the other side’ especially when applied to the context of an Allied airman’s war.

While the biographies of either flier could easily take up another few paragraphs it is the writing and structure of this book that I really want to cover – the actual review as it were. Stephen Harris weaves his journey of discovery about Col and the bomber war in general with that of Col’s operational tour. He visits Col’s old airfields and haunts and gets to grips with the time and Col’s contemporaries (there’s a fascinating link to Middleton VC as uncovered in Col’s letters). However he casts an understandably modern eye over the bomber war and the destruction it caused. He is critical of the effectiveness and comes within a hair’s breadth of questioning the morality of it all before countering with reference to the persecution of the Europeans and the Germans' own contribution to large-scale bombing tactics (here he uses Col’s letters referring to exacting some revenge for the bombing of London and Coventry). That the author is new to this ‘world’ is evident – more of that later – and this fact is certainly not lost on him as he writes. It was clear he realised he was looking at events of 60 years ago with 21st Century ideals so his balanced approach stretches far beyond telling the story of an Allied AND a German airman.

An earlier review of this book featured in a military history magazine took offence to the use of ‘arsonists’ when referring to the bomber crews. At the time I was still reading the book and had yet to encounter that passage so reserved judgment while thinking perhaps the ‘modern’ ideals had ‘won out’ for a brief period of time during Stephen’s writing. My natural reaction to the use of this term is one of considerable frustration so I was relieved to discover its use at the start of Chapter Nine – a chapter that is devoted to Otto’s flying and his first victory – was to illustrate the opinion of a confused night fighter pilot over the burning cities of Cologne and Hamburg. While very much a controversial word to use in this genre, this is perhaps the tamest but maybe most relevant use I have seen. It was certainly not intended to stir!

The writing itself is easy to follow but the careers of both airmen might feel somewhat disjointed (and that’s not because of the various chapters dedicated to one or the other). The author, particularly with Col’s service, uses major career events to illustrate the bomber war itself (tactics, equipment etc) and these can jump around a little in terms of chronology. That said, this ties in with the author’s own discoveries and learning and is what makes the book as accessible and understandable to ‘novice’ readers as it is to Bomber Command regulars. It introduces the major factors influencing each force’s operations while providing enough gritty detail.

As alluded to previously the author is new to aviation and the bomber war in particular. His experience as a journalist overcomes most of the issues that this would bring but the occasional hiccup does get through. An aircraft’s horizontal stabiliser is referred to on several occasions as the “tail’s cross-piece” while the airspeed indicator becomes a “speedometer”. Little picky things, yes, but both serve to remind you that this is all new to the author while reinforcing the generally superb effort he clearly put in.

His journalistic skills come to the fore when using square brackets ([…]) to clarify jargon or tidy up running references in correspondence. You may recall my opinion of these was quite scathing in the review of Ford-Jones’ Desert Flyer but in UABM they are used expertly although occasionally there is a bit of over-kill – “…flying at 600ft [altitude]…”.

The handling of the news of Col’s death is understated (although the investigation and first-hand accounts of the incident are very well done) with the author simply relating the facts of what various family members did while leaving the emotion to those who knew Col best. Indeed, Chapter 14 includes more text from letters of condolence than it does descriptive text and is wonderfully constructed and a perfect epitaph.

With excellently laid-out endpapers UABM continues a tradition I’ve noticed with paperbacks about New Zealand aircrew – it looks superb. The thick card covers include flaps front and rear and the artwork is attractive … but quite improbable. With an He 219 in that position the mid-upper gunner on the visibly undamaged Stirling would be hammering away at the German aircraft and/or the bomber would be standing on a wingtip to evade. As I progressed through the book, though, my impression of the cover changed. Rather than this being an interception the cover is of two aircraft flying together in the night sky – comrades-in-arms as it were. In many respects that’s exactly what these opposing airmen were.

While on the subject of illustrations the two sections of photos – 36 in all – are wonderfully reproduced on glossy paper while several maps appear on the high-quality ‘text’ pages. The photos are excellent, were all new to me and cover both airmen’s experiences while also including recent photographs taken during the author’s investigations.

So, now that we’ve traveled through a review that barely scratches the surface of UABM, what have we got? The stories of three men – Col, Otto and the author – and their journeys of discovery, one of which was cut far too short. In a sense, the author continues Col’s story and breathes life into what otherwise would have been one of the many lost airmen who will never have anything written about them. In so doing he turns a remarkable journey into a very special one. While it is not known whether Otto and Col shared the same piece of sky like they do on the cover, the inclusion of Otto’s experiences not only opens the reader’s eyes to the German experience but adds to the understanding of the dangers Col, and the thousands of young men just like him, faced in the night skies over Europe. I can only hope Stephen Harris builds on the journey he has undertaken and applies his knowledge to another aspect of the bomber war. If it’s anything like UABM, it will be worth the read.

As I have said this is a superb looking book and, although a paperback, would easily compete with a hardback in terms of quality of production. Exisle Publishing is new to me and I do not think they have published any other books in this genre. Here’s hoping they get the chance.

This review copy came direct from Exisle and it is available from them online – Exisle Publishing. I have also seen it in several chain bookstores and museum gift shops so it is readily available. At more than 200 pages it is an easy size to read and is crammed full of information which makes it a very worthwhile purchase.

Stephen Harris also has a website which includes extracts from the book and other extra details. Well worth a look at – Under A Bomber's Moon.

On Wings Of Fortune - Richard Pinkham and Steve Darlow

Following his confronting Flightpath To Murder (reviewed below) Steve Darlow is due to publish On Wings Of Fortune written with W/C Richard Pinkham DFC - a pilot of commensurate skill. Here's the blurb from Steve's website:

RAF veteran Wing Commander Richard Pinkham DFC presents the extraordinary and graphic account of his experiences flying 62 World War Two bombing operations. He tells his story with candour and without pulling punches although the occasional humorous anecdote lightens proceedings. The reader joins Richard in the cockpit of his bomber as he dares the bursting flak, dives to avoid penetrating searchlights and wrestles his damaged aircraft home.

Richard served with the RAF through the entire war embarking on his operational career amid the desperate fight for survival that was the Battle of Britain. He went on to take part in some of the largest bombing raids ever carried out against Germany. With odds of 5 to 1 against him, Richard, unlike so many of his fellow airmen, lived to tell his story. He was then posted to North Africa to blast the Axis forces from Tunisia and, finally, spent the last year of the war in the Far East taking up fascinating accident investigation duties.

On Wings of Fortune is an exceptional story by a distinguished and decorated RAF veteran who flew and fought in the World War Two aerial front line. Acclaimed author Steve Darlow provides the general context of the bomber war. Richard Pinkham relives his terrifying, gripping and fascinating story.

As you can see from the above, and the details on the cover, this is flying and service over and on three continents so certainly something of interest for everyone, I reckon. Due for release in April - as Steve said "the books are in some container on some ocean" - this looks like it will be a fascinating read and, at 17.99 GBP, a readily affordable one. A limited, signed edition will also be available. For further details, please visit Steve Darlow's Fighting High - On Wings Of Fortune.

Beaufighters In The Night - Brick Eisel

In the past I’ve reviewed books featuring aircrew who flew American aircraft – aircraft generally loaned from the US under the well-known Lend/Lease scheme. Most recently Gus Officer’s Six O’Clock Diamond featuring Kittyhawks was reviewed and, on the bomber front, Murray Peden’s A Thousand Shall Fall and Charles Page’s Wings Of Destiny featured Fortresses and Bostons respectively. You may recall we even looked at an American in the RAF with Caine’s Spitfire, Thunderbolts And Warm Beer. So, what about British aircraft being used by the USAAF? Fair to say such instances (and books) were a lot less common. Mossies, I suspect, come to mind but if you were to visit the USAF Museum at Dayton, Ohio, you’d see, among the classic American types, a very British aircraft wearing ‘stars and bars’ – a Beaufighter.

Put simply, with no American type proving itself a consummate night fighter and the need to help defend the night skies over Europe, the Americans opted for the Beau which, in its night fighter form, was being steadily replaced by the Mosquito. The 417th Night Fighter Squadron, the subject of this book, arrived in North Africa in the latter half of 1943 and proved an effective counter to the regular Luftwaffe raids on harbour installations. That said, as the war progressed, the squadron often found itself the last to move forward or, in the case of equipment, the last to be ‘updated’. Consequently the 417th perhaps did not see as much action as its sister squadrons and had to ‘make do’ with what it had. Similarly the author has used the same resourcefulness and initiative to put together a book on a squadron that had a relatively quiet war and, as a result, has been largely forgotten in the myriad of USAAF day fighter squadron volumes.

The 417th became part of the nascent US night fighter force when it was formed in early 1943. Night Fighter Schools were already churning out crews in Florida and the Americans found many of their instructors, particularly the radar types, to be British civilians or servicemen – the latter most likely on a ‘rest’ tour from operations. A picture of efficiency, by early May, barely three months since its creation, the 417th was fully manned and shipped off for England.

Crossing the Atlantic quickly on the Queen Elizabeth, the squadron knuckled down to 10 weeks of training with the RAF. After flying the P-70 – the night fighter version of the Boston/Havoc light bomber – with its tricycle undercarriage, the American crews found themselves learning to fly the Beaufighter with its tailwheel, capacity to swing on take-off and, according to an extract from the 414th’s history, “the most difficult of all British aircraft to fly.” The aircrew were not the only ones having to adapt. The ground crew found themselves having to master the Hercules engine and other aspects of the airframe that, from their point of view, were ‘quirky’.

Despite the difficulties the 417th was dispatched to the airfield at Tafaroui, Algeria where the aircraft arrived two weeks before the rest of the squadron. When the rest of the squadron finally caught up they found the aircrew rather frazzled from a fortnight of operations and aircraft servicing. Things soon settle down, however, and squadron life settles into the familiar routine with brief moments of excitement and/or stress. A constant theme throughout the squadron’s use of the Beaufighter is the general ‘tired’ status of the aircraft issued. Interestingly the USAAF was unable to arrange spare parts so enterprising members of the air and ground crews would roam the Mediterranean by B-25 Mitchell in search of whatever spares they could scrounge. In contrast with other USAAF units this situation is quite remarkable but anyone familiar with the air war in the desert will know that, until the latter stages of that campaign, the RAF and Commonwealth air forces suffered similar supply issues due to the dangers to shipping in the Mediterranean and the length alternative routes. So the 417th certainly wasn’t in unique territory. However not having a regular parts or even aircraft supply meant a much higher workload for the ground crews in particular. Given the environment in which they worked it is remarkable the squadron achieved what it did.

Shortly after claiming its first victory in early February, 1944, some of the ground staff of the squadron were detached to Corsica. The 417th was the last US night fighter unit in North Africa and, other than regular two-aircraft detachments to Corsica, remained ‘behind the war’ for some time to come. With these detachments and the subsequent re-unification of the entire squadron, though, the action really picks up. Still living in basic camps the 417th’s night fighters were heavily involved in the Italian campaign. This flying intensified with the invasion of the south of France and the squadron adding a new responsibility – intruder ops. Moving to France in September, 1944, the 417th operated out of an airfield just north-east of Marseilles. As always the environment was not an ally especially when the ‘Mistral’ blew at a sustained 40 knots. A series of engine failures, some fatal, brought the squadron to perhaps its lowest point. The cause of these failures and losses was eventually traced to empty fuel barrels containing water that was not emptied out by Marseilles dock workers before the barrels were filled with 100-octane aviation fuel. As always the 417th soldiered on and overcame this and other obstacles. Even when their sister squadrons were re-equipped with the Black Widow (and, in one case, the Mosquito XXX) and new Black Widow units arrived in the theatre, the 417th kept flying its clapped-out Beaufighters and pulling its weight. In particular the squadron was quite effective at intercepting the low-level Luftwaffe flights to Spain. Intended to transport German gold, foreign currency and treasures out of the rapidly declining Third Reich, these flights were difficult to intercept but the 417th, with skills developed from numerous low-level interceptions over the sea, proved up to the task.

The Black Widows eventually arrived in March, 1945 and the squadron was operational again by early April. Other than losing two aircraft to friendly ground fire, what was left of the war passed uneventfully for the 417th.

BITN is quite a quick read in that the main text ends at page 128. The first four chapters are quite short but flow into each other well. After reading so many Commonwealth-based titles some of the language used by the American crews is a little refreshing and a reminder of how two different English-speaking forces can interpret the same situation. Seven appendices fill the final 50 pages and all add considerable detail to the story of the 417th. I did find Appendix V – the combat action reports – a bit hard to read in its capital letter format. While this might add authenticity to the reports I am sure they would have been much easier to read if they’d been presented in the same text format as the rest of the book.

What is particularly rewarding is that BITN is a lot more than just a dry unit history. The author has gone to great lengths to interview and correspond with surviving members of the squadron. Happily he did not limit this first-hand research to aircrew. The seamless injection of the personal memories is made all the more valuable by the inclusion of comments from all personnel levels within the squadron. On any page the reader can expect to find remarks from a private in the mess to the commanding officer. This wide-ranging material is mirrored by a commitment to cover all aspects of squadron life including the ‘winding-down’ period post-war. Of course there is lots of flying. However before an aircraft takes-off on an operation it has to be serviced; its consumables re-stocked; its crew fed, washed, quartered and paid and the airfield itself has to be maintained. Remarkably this is all covered in the main text of the book.

As mentioned above the decrepit Beaufighters flown by the squadron are a regular theme throughout but the general feeling is that the 417th was certainly overlooked in a number of other areas as well. On top of the struggles to keep the Beaus flying, the food and accommodation always seemed to be of a low standard when compared to other USAAF units. It does sound quite similar to the trials and tribulations of the RAF and Commonwealth units in the same theatre though. The initiative shown and solutions devised are certainly the same however.

As with all Pen & Sword books I’ve encountered to date, BITN is well illustrated with a good section of photos printed on glossy paper. In fact the photo coverage is quite extensive and the length of that section – 24 glossy, double-sided leaves and 132 photos (!) – surely must surpass any comparable book of this size and genre. While I noticed one glaring error (RAF Portreath referred to as RAF Port Reith) the text is easy to read and flows nicely with sufficient detail for the avid ‘airhead’ and perfect explanations for the ‘novice’ reader. I do not think I have read a squadron history that so ably caters for readers of all levels. Hopefully this accessibility will help the 417th’s wartime service be remembered and honoured as it should. BITN, therefore, is the perfect memorial for a very resourceful squadron.

The review copy is a 2007 hardback and is well-presented in a wonderfully illustrated dust-jacket. While not as action-packed as some of Pen & Sword’s recent covers it depicts a hard working ground crew slaving over a Hercules in the mud and standing water. Really a great piece of art with detail down to the blanked-out RAF roundel on the wing and the squadron’s Hurricane hack in the background.

The photos in the book, like the text, cover every aspect of squadron life and some are quite candid. Despite my comments about this being a quick read I probably had a bookmark stuck in BITN for close to a month. This was purely due to my circumstances at the time. It was very easy to get back into though.

BITN is easily available from Pen & Sword - Beaufighters In The Night - and the usual places like Amazon etc.

Review copy published by Pen & Sword Aviation in 2007. ISBN 978-1-84415-483-8.

New email address

Hi everyone

Just a quick post to let you know of my new email - aircrewbooksATiinet.net.au

We've just changed ISPs and although we had a connection on Thursday the modem/router has only just arrived.

Since being offline I've written the Beaufighters In The Night review so that will be posted once I'm on top of everything else that an ISP change entails.

Andy

Flightpath To Murder - Steve Darlow

Murder is something you only really read or think about in passing in books about Commonwealth aircrew. Death is sadly prevalent but, depending on your views of the bombing campaigns conducted by both sides, murder only seems to 'directly' rear its ugly head when books venture into the realm of prisoners and downed airmen. Of course as I write this I am bouncing the idea around in my head trying to think of other circumstances in the genre covered by this site. Anyway, this is how I approached Steve Darlow's latest effort. I had to chuckle, as you may recall from the Seafire review below I read that book to take a break from Australian aircrew, when I found the airman involved was an Australian flying with the RAF. However this was the very last scrap of misguided mirth I was to utter with relation to this book. FTM is not your average 'derring-do' aircrew book and the story within is as disturbing as it is emotionally draining.

If you read books about aircrew with any sort of regularity you develop a 'sixth sense' of knowledge and the ability to read between the lines. You know the basic path a pilot or gunner will take before he flies on operations and you expect the searchlights and/or flak and fighters etc. In reading widely you will no doubt encounter stories of aircrew parachuting from their stricken aircraft only to be set upon - and injured or worse - by angry civilian 'lynch mobs'. In some cases there'll be a footnote, paragraph or appendix detailing those responsible being tried as war criminals. These accounts of 'terrorfliegers' are always confronting but are often lost in the myriad of edge-of-your-seat action and adventure. Imagine an entire book devoted to one such account...

Bill Maloney is one of the many – the many thousands of Commonwealth fighter pilots who will never be household names. However their contributions – and sacrifices – were no less important than those of Bader, Johnson, Caldwell or Kain. Maloney, though, belongs to a select and unfortunate group of young airmen whose death became the subject of a war crimes investigation and, ultimately, led to further loss of life. Other than that there is little that we know of Maloney. His story is supplied from official records, his logbook, family memories and his letters home. Detail and context are added by his squadron mates and contemporaries of the time. Other than that, there’s not much to go on so the author has done an admirable job in turning the Australian pilot into someone the reader can relate to and reflect upon.

Joining 80 Squadron in May 1944, Maloney flew their Spitfire IXs over Normandy on convoy patrols and provided escort to bombers hitting V1 launch sites. The obligatory fighter sweeps took on a whole new meaning when the squadron re-equipped with Tempests in August of that year. A busy month later (indeed, the day before Operation Market Garden) Maloney’s Tempest was hit by flak while attacking a train and he force-landed on the Dutch-German border near the town of Elten. While the majority of the book examines the war crimes tribunal, the lives of the civilians involved and the effect of the war itself on the local population, it is the pages following the account of Maloney’s loss that are by far the most moving. Letters to his family from the squadron and his mates are an indication of the esteem in which he was held. However, it is the letters to his mother – from the mothers of a good mate and acquaintance also killed and even from one of the staff of an officers’ club in London – from women who only knew of Mrs Maloney through her son that really hit home. Sharing an intense loss and voicing what Mrs Maloney would have no doubt felt, these letters – fully transcribed in the text – are most powerful and, sadly, provided the family with the most up to date news on the fate of the Australian. Believe it or not, the Maloney family was not aware of the war crimes investigation and subsequent prosecution until the author made contact.

Having established the mystery from the opening chapter and then showing Maloney in the thick of things while on operational service, the author dives head first into witness accounts of the pilot’s death. He introduces the ‘characters’ and major players in the story with great detail – examining their lives before and during the war. What struck me was the witnesses and civilian ‘participants’ in the crime appear to have been completely normal family men (for the most part). Ordinary men thrown into extraordinary circumstances.

The events following the forced landing are laid out from a variety of viewpoints and, of course, are detailed during the trial of the accused. The author follows the fortunes of those involved in the period leading up to the trial. The local population was, apparently, sickened by what had happened to Maloney and this seems to have had some influence on the suspects eventually handing themselves in although I suspect the belief they were ‘following orders’ was enough to clear their conscience.

I have deliberately not gone into the circumstances of Maloney’s death or the detail of the trial. To do so would require considerable time and, well, you’re better off reading the book. However, at the very heart of the investigation, is the determination of how the pilot died (and the ramifications this has on the accused). Was the beating he received from the soldiers enough to kill him or was it the rifle shot to the head fired by the civilian official (the coup-de-grace to put him out of his misery apparently)? As you can imagine, to examine such interpretations the author would have gone to some pretty dark places and he freely admits this. Similarly, it does not make for easy reading. Readable, yes, but completely confronting and disturbing.

The discussion about what caused Maloney’s death is mirrored, ironically, in the only execution of one of the accused. Hanging, as it turned out, was often not the cause of death for war criminals. They were hanged, yes, but a study ‘post-gallows’ often revealed the existence of a heartbeat in many cases. Death then came by way of a chloroform injection. I marvelled at the irony but it didn’t make it any more pleasant to read (or write this paragraph).

Time to look at the book as a whole as the tone is darkening. At the core of FTM is the death of a young man who was loved by his family and admired for his character. To some under his guns and bombs, he was evil and the source of all of their suffering. Indeed, this is a book of suffering – from the German civilians under constant bombardment to Maloney’s distraught family in Australia. Even the author is not immune. However he injects heart into what otherwise would have been a cold account of a war crimes trial (and that wouldn’t have made it into mainstream publication). The motivations and backgrounds of every single person featured in the trial are revealed to the reader so they are more than just names on a page. A sense of foreboding prevails right from the start and lasts for more than 50 pages. The business of meting out justice then takes over but this is slowly replaced by a growing frustration. Only one of the accused was hanged, the others managed to distance themselves from any violent act and had their lengthy sentences shortened to the extent they were free men by the mid-1950s - how quickly attitudes can change. That is, the accused who could be identified. The soldiers who did the bashing may still be with us enjoying their long lives.

But for the author’s efforts to write this book, Maloney’s family may never have known the complete circumstances of his death and the subsequent investigation. For them a great service has been done. For us, the general reading masses, we are fortunate the life of an otherwise forgotten pilot has been given the attention it deserves. While far more confronting than enjoyable, this book is a challenge and a departure from the standard Steve Darlow fare but that doesn’t make it any less interesting. If you’re a fan of the author or you like to maintain a well-rounded ‘education’ with regard to Commonwealth aircrew, FTM should be in your collection.

The reviewed copy is published by Haynes - Haynes - Flightpath To Murder. Best known for their motor vehicle manuals, Haynes has recently branched out into books of this genre. I believe FTM is one of their earliest publications along these lines and, if their production quality is anything to go by, they’re off to a good start. The photographs are reproduced in one section on ‘glossy’ paper and complement the text exceedingly well – faces to names etc.

I found it best to tackle this book in chapters. I know that sounds obvious but you will need to ‘break away from the darkness’ at times. Maybe that was just me but it’s worth suggesting it.

Reviewed copy published by J H Haynes & Co Ltd in 2009. ISBN 978-1-84425-541-2

They Gave Me A Seafire - 'Mike' Crosley, DSC*, RN

After a swathe of books covering RAAF personnel I thought it was time I read something that was the complete polar opposite. I'd been admiring TGMAS ever since I removed it from its envelope a couple of years ago having bought it from a Naval & Military Press sale for about $10. Happily, the quality of the book itself is reflected by the writing within. 'Delightful' is perhaps the best word to describe it. However, as enjoyable a read as it is, it's very evident that, by war's end, the author, a consummate professional, is weary beyond words and quite critical of 'the establishment' and its inability to adapt quickly. I have read several books by flyers who were active for most, if not all, of the war but only one (Owen Zupp's Down To Earth) can compete with TGMAS for its honesty and candour.

I'm getting ahead of myself but, considering the title, there's a lot of Sea Hurricane flying to devour before you come across a Seafire. The book opens with what is becoming a common ‘hook’ these days – an event that is harrowing and full of adventure. In this case it is the sinking of the aircraft carrier HMS Eagle by four torpedoes from the U-boat U73. The author was a Sea Hurricane pilot with 813F Naval Air Squadron and the reader immediately gets an idea of the style of writing when, after describing the initial shock of the explosion, he says “Anyway, lunch was off for the moment...”.

Crosley’s childhood was one of disruption. His mother left his stage opera father and placed the author and his sister in a variety of separate foster homes. However his paternal grandmother soon comes to the rescue and with his father remarried, running a nursery and now overlooking the river Hamble, Crosley earns a choral scholarship and a quality education. Completing his school years, an initial, somewhat comical, attempt to join the Navy fails so he “joined the Metropolitan Police instead.” Working as a bobby during the London Blitz provides a good window into this profession during what must have been a very dangerous and heart-breaking time. With the war well underway, though, Crosley joins the Fleet Air Arm after being told the RAF has a backlog of six months.

What follows is a simply magical chapter of the attempts of HMS St Vincent in Gosport to bash Crosley and his fellow enlistees into something resembling sailors. In this three months prior to heading to No 24 EFTS at Luton, the author makes light of his training and includes many amusing anecdotes from both his class and the one immediately senior (which was full of New Zealanders). Arriving at Luton he flies Mile Magisters rather than the expected Tiger Moths – a sign, he hopes, that means he’s destined for fighters not Swordfish! Again the experiences learning to fly are well recounted and most enjoyable but the first hint of the war’s realities (from a pilot’s perspective) become evident with a fatal crash involving a fellow pupil and, on the Crosley front, a lucky, if not skilful, forced landing. Moving on to SFTS at RAF Netheravon and flying Harts, Audaxes and Battles to learn the art of navigation, instrument flying and bombing (among others), the author makes it through and is posted to Yeovilton for an introduction to the Hurricane. At the time there were very few ‘hooked’ Sea Hurricanes in the FAA so the new pilots had to get to grips with old RAF aircraft. Here we have perhaps the first indication of the RN’s attitude towards aircraft in general but this is certainly addressed later in the book.

Adjusting to the Hurricane like the proverbial duck to water, Crosley is at last in his element and the writing clearly reflects this. His observations are enlightening and educational and, more often than not, humourous. As I’ve already mentioned his understated style of writing lends itself to little quips and passages that are, to put it simply, very clever and most entertaining. In particular, his description of the use of Wall’s Ice Cream tricycles to train pilots and controllers in the fine art of radar-controlled interceptions is an absolute joy and will not fail to raise a smile and a chuckle – imagine a number of pilots pedalling around the airfield listening to radio signals from the tower. Admittedly, this was in 1941 but it’s a sign the RN had finally begun to take its fighters seriously.

Dummy Deck Landings soon follow, in Fulmars interestingly, before the posting to Eagle right at the end of 1941. The RN carrier force was, at the time, hard hit and suffering from a lack of an effectively utilised fighter force. As if to reinforce that point, Crosley, upon reporting on board Eagle, is told her fighters – 813F NAS – are in Scotland and he should go there. He does and after some hunting finds the squadron at Arbroath – all three pilots and two Sea Hurricanes of it. This was Eagle’s entire fighter defence. Before too long, Eagle is sailing for Gibraltar to pick up Spitfires for delivery to Malta. This is a very interesting insight into these supply convoys and is well-supported by some anecdotes of life on ‘The Rock’.

It is on a maximum effort to supply Malta in June 1942 that Crosley, as Number 2 to his flight commander, is directed onto an Italian recce aircraft. With his leader dropping back due to engine problems Crosley successfully engages the enemy to make his first kill. Exactly the same thing happens the next day with a Ju 88 but they only claim a probable (this becomes confirmed when the crew is rescued). A few more busy and successful days for the fighter force of the convoy sees Crosley in the thick of the action and making further claims. The action continues with further convoys and then, with Operation Pedestal, the loss of Eagle. These chapters provide a great angle on this period in the Med when Malta’s survival, should just one convoy fail, was measured in weeks.

Without a ship, our hero returns to England, marries and joins 800 NAS and its new Sea Hurricane IIbs and IIcs at Lee-on-Solent. Again the reader is treated to some fine anecdotes before 800 is assigned to the escort carrier HMS Biter – “always an efficient and happy ship.” Biter is soon deployed in support of Operation Torch – the invasion of North Africa – and 800 NAS is quickly into action providing close support to the Albacores attacking the French airfields in Oran. Despite the excellent briefing Crosley still has some trepidation having never seen Albacores before and only having six hours of night flying. However, he is well led and the reader is treated to the first extract from his diary. These diary extracts continue over the next few pages and share the author’s success at shooting down a French fighter and his frustration at having to land on the notorious HMS Dasher, a ship he was only too happy to leave as soon as practicable. Unfortunately, upon returning home and joining 804 NAS, Crosley finds himself on Dasher again escorting a storm-tossed convoy to Iceland. 804 soon finds itself back on dry land though and ultimately enjoying a marvellous spring with their new Senior Pilot – Crosley DSC. However all good things must come to an end and 804 is broken up in mid-1943 and Crosley is back to training on second-hand fighters – Spitfires.

The author does a commendable job at explaining the pros and cons of turning the Spitfire into the Seafire. As usual for the FAA, it is a patch-up job that is made to work despite the problems encountered. However, Crosley cuts his teeth on a variety of early Seafires before, surprisingly, spending some time with the RAF flying Spitfire IXs. This undoubtedly prepared him for what was to come.

D-Day finds Crosley over Normandy in a Seafire LIII spotting for RN battleships shelling German coastal positions. His diary extracts here are fascinating and he goes to great length to explain the processes, and frustrations, and also gives an interesting run down of the early G-suit, the Franks Flying Suit, which used water-filled bladders to restrict blood flow during high-G manoeuvres. I found this the most enlightening part of the book as I had not come across ‘spotter Seafires’ over Normandy before.

By now an exceptionally experienced pilot, the author is given command of 880 NAS and posted to the Orkneys. Embarking aboard HMS Furious, his squadron provides CAP for some of the Tirpitz raids which were largely unsuccessful. Later strikes along the Norwegian coast are flown from the new, but not-quite-right, HMS Implacable. This ‘working-up’ period proves vital as, after some time ashore, the Seafires return to Implacable and set sail for the British Pacific Fleet. Passing Gibraltar in early April 1945, Crosley returns to a now relatively peaceful Mediterranean. The journey into the Indian Ocean and then to Ceylon begins to reveal some of the Seafires' weaknesses flying in the warmer climes. Implacable herself proves to be somewhat cantankerous but when the ships finally arrive in theatre, via Australia and a lot of exercises, innovation and sheer skill eventually overcome some of the problems and the latest additions to the BPF go to war. Crosley’s account of this period is a mixture of pride in his men and, ultimately, frustration at the chain-of-command and its apparently negative attitude towards the Seafire men. While the Seafires, 35% of the BPF’s aircraft, flew 51% of the offensive sorties during the final days of strikes against the Japanese mainland (in other words, the Seafires had been made to ‘work’ by men who knew the aircraft’s limitations), losses for this and previous actions were continuous and often attributed to some design ‘anomaly’ as opposed to pilot error or enemy action. Crosley, as squadron commander, maintained his good humour but it is clear from his writing that he felt some losses unnecessary. While this part of the book reveals a more or less effective BPF air component there is still much to improve on and Crosley is certainly not backwards in stating what the force’s shortcomings are/were. Cleverly, though, he retains most of this discussion for inclusion in the appendices thereby maintaining the lovely flow of his narrative.

At war’s end, the author spends some time flying Seafires in Australia before returning home, now single, and joining the Empire Test Pilots’ School at RAF Cranfield where “life became an adventure again.” Oh how I wish he had elaborated on that period of his life as well.

As you can see, TGMAS is absolutely full of, well, everything. It manages to cram the main narrative into just under 200 pages albeit with quite small text. Crosley has an unparalleled turn of phrase and the ability to describe humourous events without losing their affect. The ‘action’ or ‘at sea’ sequences make for riveting reading and in comparison the time spent ashore at various airfields can seem a little disjointed – perhaps an indication of the author trying to keep his anecdotes in some sort of logical order. These are still great fun to read though. The flying and operations all through the book have been covered before but perhaps not in such personal detail. The strikes on Norway, in particular, make for interesting reading if you’ve read about Coastal Command’s strikes against similar targets.

I would, however, perhaps have a grain of salt ready if you decide to take some of the biographical details as gospel. On page 100 I encountered an Australian pilot I had not heard of before - AJ 'Nat' Gould. He flew Hurricanes in Russia, flew with the RAAF at Milne Bay and joined the FAA at the end of the war which eventually led him to Korea (worthy of a book himself). I've glossed over his career somewhat but my light research revealed "Squadron Leader 'Nat' Gould, DFC, RAAF", as referred to in TGMAS, was not in Russia in March 1943. He had already served there and returned to Australia by March 1942. I have also been unable to confirm the DFC although he certainly did enough to warrant it. No doubt the author served with him in the FAA so, with regard to Gould's earlier career, Crosley's simply remembered it wrong. While you may wonder about some of the other details in the book - no one is infallible - make of it what you will as there are no glaring errors in the text that make you stop and think "What the...".

If you were to step back and look at the big picture after reading this book, what you’d find would be a first-hand account of the development of the FAA during the war. At the start of Crosley’s career it is little more than a sideline. However as our hero develops and progresses, so does the Fleet Air Arm until it becomes an effective – perhaps ever so slightly disorganised – and definitely underappreciated strike force that is perfectly established to make the most of the massive changes in naval aviation that followed the war years.

The main text is supported by 14 (yes, 14!) appendices covering 60 pages. Almost 20 of these pages cover “some of the problems” encountered with the Seafires. Even the RN’s failings during the Falklands War are examined in the context of lessons forgotten from 40 years earlier. While these appendices add valuable information to the book (naturally) the writing is of a different style – much more authoritative and technical and nowhere near as easy to read as the main text. As alluded to above leaving the majority of the technical ‘gumf’ to the appendices is an intelligent thing to do as it does not hamper the beautiful flow and rhythm of the narrative.

If I remember correctly, this is only the second FAA-based book I have read. The first was Charles Lamb’s (like a number of FAA 'legends' he has a cameo in TGMAS) magical War In A Stringbag. On the strength of these two titles I am certainly looking forward to reading more. TGMAS provides a fine mix of action, humour, colourful characters, wonderful flying and the requisite sadness that such adventure ultimately brings. Add to this an ongoing analysis of the wartime trials and tribulations of the Fleet Air Arm and you have a highly recommended must-read for anyone with just a passing interest in naval aviation.

As I mentioned above, I bought my copy of TGMAS from Naval & Military Press during one of their regular sales. A hardback of more than 260 pages its only failing is that the numerous photographs are printed on the same paper stock as the text so their reproduction is not as good as it could have been. It is, however, one of the best-looking books in my collection.

Reviewed copy published by Wrens Park Publishing in 2001. ISBN 0905-778-68-5

The SAAF at war

Just received three books from South Africa:

1. The Aegean Pirates - The History of 15 Squadron SAAF in WW2 by Dr Stefaan Bouwer and Dr Gerald Thompson,

2. The Men Who Went To Warsaw by Lawrence Isemonger and

3. Springbok Fighter Victory - Volume One, East Africa, 1940-1941 by Michael Schoeman.

All three, especially TAP, are well-presented. TAP appears a most comprehensive effort at around 250 pages (A4 format) and is loaded with photos and even colour plates of the various colour schemes worn by the aircraft operated by the squadron (Ju 86, Battle, Blenheim, Bisley and Baltimores ... there's A LOT of Baltimore profiles). Superb stuff. I'll certainly be reviewing this book this year.

TMWWTW, which I keep calling The Men Who Flew To Warsaw, is Volume 12 of the African Aviation Series (SFV is Vol 11 but Vol 1 of, er, a series within a series) and I have yet to see a book that has more pics of RAF-style Libs in it (happy to be proven wrong!). The author was a member of 31 Squadron's ground crew and has written the book as a tribute to the men of the squadron particularly those who gave their lives trying to supply the Warsaw Uprising. The appendices are a joy to behold with details of crew and aircraft.

Finally, SFV (published in 2002) delves into a forgotten part of the air war on the African continent - East Africa. Active over Somalia, Abyssinia etc, the South Africans found their Furies (oh my!), Gauntlets, Gladiators and very early Hurricanes up against the slightly more modern Italian Air Force. Loaded with some amazing photos that most of us certainly won't have seen, this book also includes an appendix giving a brief service bio of each pilot who flew in the campaign. Pen and Sword published Air War In East Africa 1940-1941 (by Canwell and Sutherland) earlier last year and while this would no doubt include some of the detail in SFV it would certainly make a good companion for the South African book. Above all else it is very pleasing to see this much-neglected campaign, and the men involved, receive the attention it, and they, deserve.

If anyone can let me know of other books on the SAAF during the war I would be most grateful. These are the first ones in my collection. The above books were bought from the The Airforce Shop in SA - http://www.saairforce.co.za/shop/index.php

The They Gave Me A Seafire review is coming. Honestly!