Pathfinder Cranswick - Michael Cumming

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Spitfires Over Malta - now direct from author

Paul Lovell achieved two things when he released his self-published update of the wartime classic Spitfires Over Malta.  Firstly, he brought an historically valuable book, written by an Australian and New Zealander who flew in the defence of Malta, back to the spotlight and in front of several new generations of readers.  Breathing new life into old books, particularly those written by aircrew during the war, by preserving the original text (their voice) but adding contextual research, appendices and further research is a favourite subject of mine.  The story feels more complete, more commemorative, if done well ... and Paul has done SOM so very well.  

That brings me to the second point.  The book includes so much extra information, and photographs, in addition to the original, slim 1940s edition, that it is now more than 370 pages long.  Paul, as editor, but really the third author of course, matched the quality of his research with the quality of the books production.  SOM is a paperback but is printed on the highest quality paper stock.  This means it is heavy!  Coupled with the superb cover, this literally makes for a weighty and beautiful book in the hand or on the shelf.  The entire package is the equivalent of a Siren's call.  I very much doubt there would be any WW2 aircrew enthusiast who, budget aside, would pass up adding SOM to their library.

The book continues to sell well and has been featured favourably in several historic aviation magazines around the world.  The main selling point online is currently Amazon but due to privacy issues Paul has been unable to reply to postage enquiries made by those outside of the UK.  He is, of course, keen to speak with anyone, anywhere in the world, interested in purchasing the SOM as he knows they will fall  in love with the book just as he did when he found an original edition at a car boot sale several years ago (the purchase that started this odyssey).

Paul's details are below.  I also have his postal address so please enquire if you would like to send him more traditional correspondence!  For convenience, I have include my email below as well.

Paul Lovell - plovell.24ATbtinternet.com (replace the "AT" with @ of course)

Andy Wright - aircrewbooksATiinet.net.au

Spitfires Over Malta, the most stunning aircrew paperback to be produced in the past couple of years, is available direct from Paul for 15.99 GBP plus postage worldwide.

The Republic Thunderbolt Mk I - Phil Listemann

It is always quite a thrill to find a book written by or about a flyer who crewed on a lesser-known or rare aircraft (dare I say “forgotten”). I tend to get a bit excited when I discover, for example, an RAF Marauder book or something featuring the pre-war Hawker biplanes. It’s the thrill of learning something outside the norm or helping remember a small group of men who experienced the war in some far-flung corner of the world. I love the ‘obscure’ stuff. Fortunately, theatres like Burma and East Africa are being researched and remembered. North Africa, along with the Far East, is a particular favourite of mine and has certainly seen welcome attention from historians, authors and enthusiasts alike. Campaigns within campaigns – like Greece and Crete or, later, the Balkans and the Adriatic – throw up aircrew who have led fascinating lives and wartime careers. It is, happily, never-ending. There is always something ‘odd’ to learn more about.

The Republic Thunderbolt saw limited service with the RAF and so qualifies as one of the aircraft that, wearing roundels, instantly becomes, in my eyes, much more intriguing. The two variants, the Thunderbolt Mk.I and Mk.II (the ‘ridgeback’ and ‘bubble-canopy’ versions respectively), were particularly powerful aircraft and generally loved by the relatively few pilots who flew them for Britain and her empire. Phil Listemann’s new addition to his Squadrons! e-book series focuses on the Mk.I and, in doing so, shines a welcome light on a rarely covered subject.

The big, imposing fighter was intended to replace the Hurricane and Kittyhawk. Both of these workhorses were employed effectively in the Middle East in the ground attack role as the air superiority role was handed over to increasing numbers of Spitfires. The ‘Jug’ was considered a good replacement in the fighter-bomber role (the Typhoon had been found unsuitable during its African trials) and its impressive performance with the USAAF over Europe certainly helped this decision. The effectiveness and availability of the preferred Mustang, however, meant that, in the end, all RAF operational flying on the Thunderbolt was performed in the Far East with only training and conversion units using the aircraft in Egypt.

The general format of this new e-book series is to introduce the type’s usage in the RAF and Commonwealth air forces by presenting numbers and variants delivered and employed. The best detail, however, lies in the subsequent squadron ‘biographies’ which are drawn largely from the relevant ORBs. The Mk.I’s days were numbered, even as it entered service, as the Mk II was already available in considerable quantities. This makes the Mk.I the perfect subject for the second volume of what promises to be an affordable and valuable series. The first editions will feature types that were not used in great numbers like, for example, the Spitfire Mk.IX. This will allow the author to find his feet as it were and streamline his process from beginning to end.

Designed to be read electronically, of course, the closing ‘pages’ of the The Republic Thunderbolt Mk I include five full-screen, high-resolution profiles that can be printed as posters and add great colour to an otherwise mostly black and white world. This is a nice touch and the subject matter, again, is relatively rare. The real value for me, however, was in reading about aircrew, especially Australians and New Zealanders, hitherto unheard of. There’s a lot to digest in forty pages.

English is not the author’s mother tongue so there are some issues with grammar but these are being addressed. They take nothing away from what is a useful, readable and easily accessible resource. I’m not a massive fan of the e-book as a format but the value is in the affordability of production and distribution. This allows a prolific and hard-working author like Phil Listemann the ability to produce a number of comprehensive publications quickly and easily which, with a readership itching for something different and fresh, is a bloody good thing.

But wait, there's more to come

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

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

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

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

High Flight - Roger Cole

Every aviation enthusiast will encounter the most famous of John Gillespie Magee’s poems.  Its oft-repeated lines have, in varying levels of completeness, been quoted by newsletter editors, orators, authors and even a US President.  Even I quoted a small part at both of our children’s christenings and, naturally, it has been used for more than one epitaph.  It is a staple of aviation literature.  At its very heart is an omnipresent love for, and fascination with, flying.  The poem, therefore, appeals and applies to all and it is this that makes it so widely known and loved.

I have seen mention of its overuse, appearing regularly in the ‘fore-papers’ and appendices as it does, perhaps reducing its effectiveness or impact or even becoming a cliché.  Indeed there are times when I’ve found it in one of my books “yet again” and have skipped ahead to what I, most likely, haven’t read before.  To do so is a dis-service.  The perfect antidote for this ‘laissez-faire’ attitude?  Take a moment, for that’s all it takes, to read “High Flight” again.  Take a moment to marvel at the perfection.  Take a moment to consider the ability of a man to put into words something he has felt that even those with little interest in aviation will, upon reaching out and touching the face of God, sit back and stare skywards.

Who was this man who captured the essence of flight and freedom in so few words?  “High Flight” is, these days, correctly attributed to John Gillespie Magee but “An American serving in the RAF/RCAF” is still found among older titles.  This latter attribution suggests little was known of Magee until relatively recently.  With the release of Roger Cole’s High Flight there is now no excuse (although this is certainly not the first biography to be written about Magee). 

John Magee was born in 1922 in Shanghai.  His American father and English mother were in China as religious workers and both hailed from families where the patriarch was a religious leader.  The American side of the family had done particularly well for themselves since their descendants had emigrated from Ireland in the late 1700s.

Just after he turned six, John and his family moved to Japan to escape the escalating tensions in China.  This was a temporary solution as John, with his two brothers and his mother, was in England by Christmas 1931.  His education began in earnest and it was his years at Rugby School under the direction of its head, Hugh Lyon, that were to have the greatest influence on his life.  Lyon would prove the steadying hand to the tearaway and headstrong Magee.  It was Lyon who recognised the potential in the boy and it was Lyon who gave him his last chance to “reflect on what has been and what might be and what must be”.  He provided the inspirational fatherly influence that Magee Senior, in his long absences, was unable to provide.

A holiday in the US to visit relatives gave John a taste of how well off his American family was.  He enjoyed himself but he yearned to return to England, to the family he knew, to complete his studies at Rugby.  War intervened.  Stranded in the US, he had little choice but to complete his education as directed by the family.  The bright side was that he re-discovered his love of literature and eventually published a small book of poetry in 1940.  These works, included in their entirety in HF, show the development of the artist, the man, and are the stepping-stones to his later efforts.

Watching sea birds and “sea eagles” while on holiday is the first indication of an embryonic interest in flight.  Certainly, he liked to drive fast, to climb tall trees (or ship’s masts!), to test himself.  Flying was the logical progression and the interest matured into enlistment in the Royal Canadian Air Force in October 1940.  He could not return to the US for fear of being imprisoned as a ‘belligerent’.  Not being able to properly farewell his family and friends would have cut deep but the sense of adventure and challenge was a worthy distraction.

By all accounts John was a gifted flyer and was remembered by one his instructors, many years later, as his best pupil.  He soloed at six hours, the first to do so in his class, and regularly topped the marks in the written exams.  He was, however, still John Magee and still prone to bouts of ‘exuberance’ that saw him in hot water on numerous occasions with the most serious being writing-off a Harvard on landing and coming within a hair’s breadth of being washed out, just before receiving his wings, for dogfighting and low flying with another Harvard (it was his finishing first in the ground school exams that saved him).

Arriving in England, at last, in July 1941, now Pilot Officer Magee was posted to No. 53 Operational Training Unit.  Here he experienced the Spitfire for the first time and it was here that ‘that poem’ was written.  If you are familiar with the poem you will notice, as John becomes a more experienced pilot and discovers ever more wonders of flight, the narrative building towards its inception.  With each discovery and experience he finds another piece of the puzzle that would form “High Flight” and, even after writing the poem, he continued to try to “capture the inspiration of flight”.

Throughout his time in England, the Lyon family was never far from John’s thoughts or heart.  He was particularly fond of the eldest daughter, Elinor, and this was reciprocated.  They spent a good deal of time together sharing their love of literature and fascination with the world.  Both wrote poems that truly expressed their feelings (and are included in the text) but neither openly confessed their love.  In the end, they never had the chance to do so.

John was posted to RAF Digby and No. 412 Squadron RCAF.  He served with the squadron for less than two months and flew his first operational sortie (Circus No. 110) in early November.  His time at Wellingore, a satellite field the squadron moved to, is an interesting snapshot of life on the squadron.  Intensive training, acceptance by the squadron, flight tests and convoy patrols are interspersed with good detail of the men’s living arrangements and, of course, John’s observations, relationships and knowledge.  A theme begins to emerge however.  Accidents were a fact of life on an operational squadron and the author gently introduces them as if to familiarise the reader.  Most are mentioned in passing as part of the chronology of John’s time on the squadron. These passages, and the combat losses of close friends, highlight the tenuous hold these men had on life.  You really do understand why some felt themselves to be already dead.  This feeling is evident in the darker tones of some of Magee’s poems – “Then it seems that I am doomed to extinction…”

Magee’s death is handled superbly.  Even before opening the book I knew it was coming but it still hit hard.  It is the abruptness that makes it so effective.  Bang.  It’s done.  He’s gone.  The author built up to the inception of “High Flight” and, as just mentioned, slowly builds to the collision with a regular stream of non-operational accidents.  There is no conclusive realisation.  Only swift and sudden death.  One moment a squadron of Spitfires is diving through a hole in the clouds and the next one of those Spitfires and an Oxford (flown by LAC Ernest Aubrey Griffin who, pleasingly, is honoured by the inclusion of his photograph) have been torn apart and their pilots cease to be.

Everyone, of course, grieves for John but his memory seems to linger and breaks the expected stereotypical ‘move on’ coping mechanism so many employed to deal with constant loss.  The reaction of his roommate is an indication of the effect John had on people’s lives long before his writing became widely known.

Part-biography, part book of poetry, HF must surely be the most complete look at the man yet written.  Wrapped in a typically beautiful Fighting High hardcover, it is a look into the very soul of the man.  That’s something that’s been said before about other books but the inclusion of what might be Magee’s complete works makes this possible.  The author brings the story into the ‘modern’ era by recounting the event that thrust Magee’s work into the spotlight – the Challenger space shuttle disaster.  Ronald Reagan ended his address to the nation eloquently by combining the first and final lines of “High Flight” into one sentence.  This account is preceded by a creative little chapter featuring two workers at the Wellingore Woodsheds as they come to the realisation that the “lad they called Maggie” who “used to hang around here” was appearing in the newspapers.  I found the scenario a little odd but I think the fact that one of them is quoted as being 26 is what threw me.  Maybe I’m missing something but I think I’ve been thrown by the first typo I’ve ever found in a Fighting High book (surely it was meant to be 76?)!

Never mind all of that though for the final third of the book is dedicated to the poetry of John Magee.  Reading them reminded me of high school English Lit classes but never have I been able to understand so clearly where each poem has come from.  For that we must thank the author of High Flight.  Roger Cole has lovingly brought John Gillespie Magee to life through extensive access to the many letters and diaries written by Magee and his family and friends and a writing style that includes a necessary, well-managed touch of creative flair. 

“High Flight” truly has a life of its own.  While expressing what every flyer has felt it also serves a higher purpose.  Magee’s voice is also that of the thousands who did not live to see peace.  As much as Laurence Binyon’s “For The Fallen” gave us the perfect words by which to express our eternal respect, “High Flight” does the same for a generation of young aviators by telling us how they lived and died as they reached higher and flew faster than all before them.

You know the poem.  Now know the man.