Key Man On Every Raid Is Observer

Auckland Star, Volume LXXIII, Issue 172, 23 July 1942, Page 4

Key Man On Every Raid Is Observer

(Contributed) There is a glamour attached to the double wings worn by the air force pilot; and rightly enough. But because it is not seen as often, the winged "O" of the air observer, worn above the left tunic pocket of his uniform, frequently attracts little notice. That is because few people really understand the work of an air observer.

If you could ask any citizen of Cologne or Essen he would tell you. He would tell you that he was the unwilling host of 1000 bombers; he would say that in his sky recently there were 1000 of these mighty instruments of war in the hands of thousands of highly-trained, deadlyaccurate bomb-aimers, and, probably he would tell you a lot more about the accuracy of British bombing, and why. He would be right, too, for it was 1000 air observers who guided the bombers to Germany; it was 1000 air observers who released the bombs for ground receipt at hair's breadth accuracy. And when the "show" was over, it was 1000 air observers who guided the bombers back to the British bases. But it was "just another job" to the singlewinged air observers. Duties No Sinecure The duties of air observers are no sinecure—properly carried out. they mean sight and judgment to the long arm of the bombing RAF.—sight and judgment that are unerring. The observer's task allows for no mistakes. but it does allow room for i- u man is clever, cool and reliable. To a degree these qualities are inherent, but a large part of the coolness, skill and reliability are the result of a long ani" thorough training under the Empire Air Training Scheme.

■ Upon completion of his training in New Zealand—where he goes through the Initial Training Wing— the potential air observer embarks for the bombing and gunnery schools in Canada. Over a period of months

he learns all that can be theoretically and practically taught about navigation, bombing, gunnery, signalling, and allied subjects. he rcaches the stage for active service; he is ready for his first operational flight. But what is his active service job?

It is sometimes thought that the term "observer" means a man who is trained in observing, from the air. things which are on the ground; like the men in the balloon baskets of 30 years ago. But the "A/O" of to-day is the key man of every bombing mission, whether it be just "over the Channel." in the industrial heart of the Reich, or to some far-flung military objective at the north or south of the globe. Intricate Calculations Primarily, the observer's job is to navigate. This is not a matter of taking a few pot shots at the sun, nor is it a matter of smugly "sitting" on a radio beam. It is a matter of intricate calculation, of charting courses by the stars, of speeds, winds and weather. Skilled in the exercise of modern air navigational science, the observer will, before a flight takes place, plot a course right to the enemy rendezvous. He will work out speeds, operational heights, and all the other facts and figures of aerial bombing.

All this the air observer puts into effect when his craft is in the air. He will guide it through darkened skies, storm and cloud, around and

about anti-aircraft fire, right to the target area. So far, his work has been that of a navigator. But it is not yet complete in any wise; at this stage he does not just sit back and "observe."

It is here that his second job is found. The bomber might be cruising at 8000 feet. "Drop her down to 2000 feet," the observer will call through the inter-communication system to the pilot. He will then ask the pilot to make the identification run in, during the course of which the observer will most likely light the place up with parachute flares. His aiming instruments will be finally set, and he will then have the pilot run up towards the target. He will direct the pilot's course, calling back through the phones "right" or "left," or whatever order is necessary to bring the machine in line with the target. Release of Bombs At the crucial moment he will release the bombs. If the job has been well done, the bombs will drop dead on the target. Then there is a third job to be done before the observer can write "operation completed" in his log—he has to guide the bomber safely back to its base. But this is a small matter to so highly a trained navigator. On the way home (as could have been the case on the way out to the target), the observer might take over one of the guns for a spell, or he might take a turn on the radio switch.

Some time after the successful raid, and the ones which have preceded it, the crew will perhaps be on leave. Someone will see them. Perhaps the person will say: "Oh, there's an air observer; see his 'flying-O.'" And perhaps he will conclude saying: "He's got a great job, that observer chap; tricky little badge he's got, isn't it?"

The casual passer-by is surely ventilating wisdom if he knows the tale of training, skill, courage and reliability that is behind that "little badge."