They Spread Their Wings (19 page)

This officer has completed much operational flying and has displayed great skill and fine fighting qualities throughout. He is a most efficient squadron commander and recently he has led his formation in a series of successful attacks on airfields and shipping. On one of the latter occasions, hits were obtained on two merchant vessels. Squadron Leader Dring has displayed great leadership and determination. He has destroyed one enemy aircraft.

With the New Year celebrations over it was back to attacks on airfields, shipping and high-priority No-Ball targets in the Cherbourg area. On 4 January Walter led two pairs of Bombphoons on dive-bomb attacks against two separate flying bomb sites. Taking off from Harrowbeer and returning to Predannack, the results were inconclusive and the squadron went back twice on the 6th for another go.

At first light, Walter Dring, in JR128, took ten aircraft over to Harrowbeer and from there at 10.40, led eight aircraft to the site south-west of Cherbourg. The weather was much better this time and the target was clearly identified. In what was now the squadron’s ‘standard’ procedure, the Bombphoons dived in two sections of four from 9,000ft, releasing their 500lb bombs at 4,000ft before zooming to reform. Bomb-bursts were well concentrated in the target area but damage could not be assessed due to the amount of smoke billowing up. The formation landed back at Harrowbeer at 11.45 to refuel, rearm and grab a bite to eat before take-off at 14.55 for the same target. Once again, Walter led the squadron and the bombs were seen to fall right in the target area or very close to it. Flak on both occasions had been light to moderate, coming up mainly from Cherbourg itself, and this was thought to be due to the No-Ball site being still under construction and not yet protected by its own guns; both sorties were considered to have been successful.

Since the turn of the year it was becoming obvious that the pressure on all squadrons was being ratcheted up, with two operations a day now becoming a regular occurrence. Walter Dring saw it as his duty to lead from the front, so running a squadron and flying ground attack operations day after day no doubt had a cumulative effect on him; in those days little was known about combat stress, and neither was there much time to dwell on it.

Portrait of ‘String’: Sqn Ldr Walter Dring, OC No 183 Squadron, drawn and signed by Cuthbert Orde on 28 August 1943. (John & Susan Rowe, Dring Collection)

On the 7th, Walter, still using JR128, led eight Typhoon fighters on an uneventful fighter sweep over the Cherbourg peninsula. Taking off from Predannack at 09.40 they were back at 11.15 to refuel and have bomb racks and 500-pounders attached, grab lunch and get briefed for a dive-bombing sortie to the No-Ball site near Cherbourg. Following the same routine as before, the target was plastered but Flt Sgt Grant in JP973 took a hit in one wing and had to be escorted by his section directly to RAF Warmwell where he landed safely. The rest of the squadron landed back at Predannack at 16.45.

Orders were received to have another crack at Kerlin-Bastard airfield near Lorient, so long-range petrol tanks were fitted on the 8th. Take-off was at 15.35 and Walter Dring led eight Typhoons at wave-top height out to the west of Ushant, making landfall over Îles de Glénan where they were greeted by light flak. The weather was poor, with cloud base at 2,000ft and frequent rainstorms, so they kept down low until near the target. Climbing to 1,000ft over the airfield, they swept around the area but no enemy aircraft were seen, so a course was set for home. Four vessels of about 3–4,000 tons each were spotted creeping along the coast and sporadic flak came up from them. As the Typhoons flew over Île de Groix, a 400-ton coaster was seen more or less on their track, about 6 miles south-west of the island, so Flt Lt McAdam made a firing pass at it, scoring hits on the bridge and superstructure. The formation then turned north at 500ft and, with a calm, grey sea and an equally grey, low cloud base, everyone was concentrating on finding and keeping some sort of horizon and maintaining the formation – no easy task with visibility not much more than 3 miles. Everyone landed safely at 17.45.

For nearly a week there was little flying due to poor weather, but by the 14th it had improved and the Cherbourg No-Ball site came in for more attention. At first light, twelve Bombphoons flew to Harrowbeer and Walter led two sorties, the first at 12.10 and the second at 15.45. The Germans seemed to have woken up somewhat at this construction site and flak was heavy and quite accurate during both operations. The site was dive-bombed from 11,000ft down to bomb release at 5,000ft, with hits seen on buildings all over the target area. During the second attack the squadron suffered the loss of Flt Lt Allan McAdam DFC, AFC, who was last seen going down in his dive and is believed to have been hit by the intense flak barrage.

The weather towards the end of January was good enough for a series of long-range fighter sweeps to the Kerlin-Bastard airfield area. Walter flew JP385 for sorties on 27, 28 and 29 January, during which two flights of three Typhoons skirted Ushant below the cloud base at 2,000ft before sweeping in from the Bay of Biscay to attack the aerodrome with cannon fire from all sides. They then hurtled away across the Brest peninsula at ‘zero’ feet. Flt Lt Lord led the second sortie against the airfield on the afternoon of the 28th. During the return leg, Flt Sgt Robin Philipps’ engine overheated and he ditched in JP402. The formation circled the spot but there was no sign of the pilot and the Trinidadian was posted as missing in action, and is remembered on Runnymede Memorial.

On the 29th, the following day, Walter Dring led two long-range sorties, the first of which was a more adventurous, low-level operation than those previously undertaken. Taking off at 10.10, he led a formation of six Typhoons across the Channel to make landfall at Vierge, then on to shoot up Guipavas airfield. A new course took them to Kerlin-Bastard which, because there was no sign of any aircraft or activity, was left untouched. Now the formation flew on towards Vannes airfield, but low cloud caused Walter to alter course to St Brieuc airfield, where buildings, bowsers and gun positions were liberally sprayed with cannon fire. Any likely target, such as a lorry or railway locomotive, was given a quick ‘squirt’ by the Typhoons as they roared over them, hugging contours en route to Morlaix airfield. This, too, showed no signs of activity so, with ammunition to spare, Walter led the formation back to have another go at Guipavas. Flak at all the airfields was intense, especially the light-calibre stuff, and none more so than at Guipavas where the formation paid a high price. Flt Lt Stuart Lovell, in MM970, was hit and seen to crash in flames, while Sgt Sidney Smith, Lovell’s wingman, in JP382, disappeared without anyone seeing what happened. It was later established that both pilots died when they went down for a second pass. Flt Lt Lovell flew so low that he hit the building he was firing at with his prop and he cartwheeled in; it is thought that Sgt Smith, following up behind, may have been hit by flak or possibly flying debris. Both airmen are buried in Brest-Kerfautras cemetery.

Back at base by 12.10, there was no time for recriminations: just refuel, rearm and have a bite to eat. Then Walter, this time in JR427, led five aircraft at 14.30 on another two-and-a-half-hour sortie to Kerlin, where the formation swept in line abreast at 300mph below a 1,000ft cloud base all along the coast from Lorient back to Ushant. Six ships, of between 500 and 3,000 tons, were seen but not attacked and no enemy aircraft challenged the formation.

A similar operation was mounted on 31 January with little productive outcome, but another pilot, Fg Off Dickie Foster, a close friend of Walter’s, was lost to ground fire as the formation pulled out across the Brest peninsula. Walter wrote an evocative account of this operation later that tells us much about his inner feelings:

We approached the French coast, lying low and sinister, north of Lorient. Six aeroplanes in perfect line abreast doing 300mph right on the water, so low that the shadows of our aircraft almost touched and we pulled up to avoid odd seagulls or cormorants. Suddenly a large rocket rose from the shore; we had been spotted. Automatically I turn my gun button to ‘Fire’.

We were close in now and I counted the ships in between the Isle de Gloic and Lorient for ‘Spy’s’ [squadron intelligence officer] benefit when we returned. I recognised the landfall, slightly north of the aerodrome there and taking a look around, my heart filled with pride. There away on the left was Eric, always in position, never speaking but seeing everything. Next to him was Brian leading my other section and his No 2 Arthur, always ready to go looking for trouble. On my right was Pete, a newcomer to ops, then on my left was Dickie, a cool old hand aged twenty, flying lower than anyone else in a wizard position. I felt proud of these boys I had personally trained. They knew their stuff alright, having learned it in one of the most difficult jobs in the RAF. So I felt proud and confident, which almost made me arrogant as we crossed the coast, skimming houses, trees and breakwaters.

No flak – we’ve caught them by surprise. No aircraft either, damn it. Blast Pete! In his inexperience he’s going too close to the ‘drome. ‘Pete, port for Christ’s sake!’ Look starboard. Blue section alright. A little flak now. What’s that? Oh hell, a 20mm shell has struck Dickie’s starboard petrol tank. He doesn’t realise. The flames lick spasmodically back under the wing. It’s all up. I yell: ‘Dickie, bale out’, knowing the cloud base is only 500 feet but it’s his only hope now. We fly on for what seems an age but was only five seconds. I pull up close to Dickie. I begin to think he may be alright. Ah, there goes the hood. Oh God, the flames! They surge in a wild rush in the upcurrent from the bottom of the cockpit, so thick I can hardly see him. He’s getting out, head and shoulders above the fuselage, oh but he’s burning now, he’s choking. My friend Dickie is burning before my eyes. He’s leaning back along the fuselage to try to escape the flames but they are growing. He forgets to get out or probably can’t see. Oh dear me, he’s shoving the stick forward unconsciously. He’s going down now, black smoke, flames, death itself right beside me. I go down, saying to myself: ‘he can’t get out now, it’s too late. Dickie’s had it; my God: Dickie.’ As if, because he is my friend, he should have been free to fly through flak unscathed. I realise I’m heading for the trees and pull out hard, as Dickie’s machine hits the earth. I twitch as it explodes and the engine leaps out and careers along the ground. I feel sick, but where are the others? What course am I steering? 000°? That’s no use. Turn on to 065° you fool. ‘Blue section, over on my port, line abreast, come on now, quickly! 065°; steady.’ I look behind, no fighters, only a pall of smoke reaching into the sky, black oily smoke, Dickie’s pyre. We are in line abreast; good old Eric over on the left, Dickie’s best friend and fellow humourist. He told me afterwards that he cried in his cockpit. Arthur: I know, with murder in his eyes wanting to turn round and kill all the gunners for miles around, as he sobs in agony. Pete: shaken; getting in my way flying badly. He’ll be alright. Myself, moaning away, steering 065° for Gael aerodrome and Fw 190s. Remembering how Dickie loved making fires. The irony of Fate. How, before today the Hun had no guns there at all. Thinking: why isn’t it me and why I have to go back and face his oldest friends and be hard and apparently unfeeling. There they are, four loyal friends, trusting me implicitly. We are fighting fit, in fighting aeroplanes, in fighting formation and in four minutes we’ll be over Gael. Look behind. No fighters, no smoke. Look ahead: there’s Gael …

In his logbook Walter noted that January was the worst month for the squadron, losing six pilots, and morale was badly shaken.

Events were moving apace now and No 183 Squadron was moving with them. At the end of January 1944 the squadron transferred from Predannack in No 10 Group to RAF Tangmere in No 11 Group. At Tangmere, No 183 Squadron became part of the three-squadron No 136 Wing under the command of Wg Cdr Denys Gillam. Dive-bombing was still on the menu but the squadron’s targets were now airfields, transportation, radar and V-weapon sites along and inland from the Channel coast between Cherbourg and the Pas de Calais.

There was no time to admire the new surroundings. The first operation under the new ‘boss’ was mounted at 09.00 on 1 February when Nos 183, led by Walter Dring in JR385, Nos 193 and 257 Squadrons went for a No-Ball site in the Pas de Calais. Low cloud obscured the primary target so the formation dive-bombed the alternative at Zudausques, 5 miles west of St Omer, with good results. During the afternoon, Walter was in the air again, leading the squadron in a wing attack on another site 10 miles south of Abbeville. Some direct hits were seen and, although flak was heavy during both operations, there were no casualties.

Always looking for better ways of plastering a target – particularly the difficult No-Ball sites – on 13 February Walter, in MN197, and his wingman Fg Off Arthur Napier, in MN144, tried out a method of target marking. The pair flew slightly ahead of the main formation with the task of accurately identifying the target. It was felt that just two aircraft appearing over a target area was less likely to ‘spook’ the flak defences quite so much as a larger force with more obvious intentions. Having located the target, they acted as ‘pathfinders’ by dropping their bombs and calling in the rest of the formation to aim at the smoke generated. This pair raked the target with cannon fire to distract the gunners, observed where the bombs fell and adjusted aiming points for the other pilots. On this occasion the results were recorded as ‘excellent’. Walter led a similar dive-bombing operation on the 15th, with equally good results, but this ‘pathfinder’ method does not seem to have been used much thereafter. Peter Brett wrote that flak encountered during dive-bombing operations was becoming more concentrated and more accurate. German gunners had worked out that if they spotted a large group of aircraft, such as Typhoons, in their vicinity, when the group changed into an echelon formation it almost certainly meant that a target was about to be attacked and, forewarned, the gunners were ready to draw a bead on each diving aircraft. Walter Dring came up with what was considered a better way of getting all the squadron’s aircraft down on a target in the shortest time possible. Generally, flying in ‘squadron’ formation to a target area involved two flights, one behind the other, each of four aircraft flying in a ‘finger-four’ formation. Walter reckoned German gunners could be deceived by not changing to a large echelon formation as they passed the target area. Instead he kept the two flights intact and made the attack dives as follows, from Peter Brett’s recollection. Walter would fly past the target, call ‘ready, steady, GO’, and on ‘GO’ the CO half-rolled into a looping dive from which he would pull out on the bombing dive angle. He would be followed immediately by the rest of his own four in the order 3, 4, 2. As soon as the leader of the second four saw the CO’s number 2 start his roll, he would follow with his four in the same order. This manoeuvre was practised many times before being tried out on ops and it was found that it took just six or seven seconds to get all eight aircraft diving at the same time. This meant that, on dive-bomb runs, the aircraft were closer to each other but their exposure to flak was minimised, giving the gunners little opportunity to pick out one particular aircraft and having to make do with putting up a barrage instead. Accuracy of bombing was maintained and ‘all you had to do was make sure that you did not start your pull-out before the chap in front because if you did, he could then have pulled out into you!’