THE R.A.F.

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 3, Issue 265, 31 January 1941, Page 3

THE R.A.F.

TRAINING IN THEORY AND PRACTICE TESTING THE AIM By R.A.F. Air Observer. (Continued from last issue) Good—we've mastered the bombsight, and Ave can do some practice bombing on the range. Here Ave drop very small bombs Avhich, on, bursting, giA r e rise to a puff of smoke ithe position of Avhich is plotted by a couple of sighters, so that after the exercise avc can check how tlto bombs fell Aviiii regard to the target. A very high standard is required .. . and the threat of more and still more exercises produces it.

But now we find what seemed difficult enough on the ground is ten times more so in the air. The bombaimer lias to contend with high-alti-tude cold, cramped space, a complicated mechanism, still more complicated bombing .switches, correction of instrument readings for height and temperature by mathematical laws, lenob-tuming and direction of the pilot to the target.

One more examination, and then he goes to his next station where still more bombing practices and theory arc carried out. After that lie is posted to an operational squadron where he applies his theory. Out on a Raid Gome with mc to the operational squadron and set out on a bombing raid to Germany. On the night of this sortie, wc are detailed to attack a very important target near Hamburg, a heavily defended area. We are given to understand by intelligence that it iis not a pleasant area at all and that samples of German ores are likely to be collected, even at high altitudes. There is also an active lighter squadron in the near vicinity and several replicas of Field Marshal Gocring Heating about in mid-air, restrained from (craving the "Fatherland by strong cables. The captain ami the navigator (myself) have collaborated on an approach which will provide suitable landfalls or pinpoints. We plan also to confuse the Germans, .so that they may not be able to forecast from which direction Nemesis will strike. The substance of the plan is to make for certain very easily distinguishable lakes and river turnings, which are our special Fifth Column in Germany. There is a full moon—good for us, but also goocli for the pure Aryan ground defences.

We leave base at our allotted time and after some hard climbing reach the enemy coast.

This sounds ton easy, believe me, it's no joke climbing into rarified atmosphere and still hoping to cope with slide-rule calculations and navigational instruments, with your hands growing more and more like Dracula's every moment, since the navigator is precluded by his duties from wearing gloves. I'n addition Jo normal navigational duties he has to make meteorological observations and to record winds. A Hot Reception As I say, we reach the enemy coast, and the Germans have arranged a pyrotechnical display of considerable beauty and ingenuity to greet us. Wo have flaming onions here, light flak there, with aesthetic ally-perfcct intcrlacings of heavy flak. My, "what a lot of good metal the Nazis waste on us to-night! They sparf, no expense. The only comments come from our distinguished rear gunner, a corpulent and amiable individual, who re-J marks on something referred to aS ". . . accurate fire of the . . ." Now we come into the target area. Things grow holler. We "jink in" (very technical) at 10,000 feet, having lost 2,000 feet in avoiding action earlier, when the captain had precipitated all the crew about the aircraft in frantic aerobatics of his

own devising. The bomb-aimer (that's me again) —the Mr Hyde of the otherwise Jekyllian navigator—is now twiddling all the knobs at the front, interpolating winds and setting set course. Hip-hip. there it is— heights. I cannot yet clearly discern the target, hut soon make out a characteristic island from which we set course. Hip, hip, there it is— but before the delight can die on my lips we have progressed too far forward to make corrections to r" f - find ?r en 1 !.!!- o

swear in a beautiful manner, though it Avas not for this that he was recently awarded the D.F.G. Over the Target We make another run up-into the thick of the enemy barrage of fire. The preparations for bombing take 3 7 our mind off the danger. We approach from south-west. Corrections of the course to be taken are given by lights. Now the target is in the line of sight. I press the firing switch and see our surprise packets leave the aircraft in a stick. Down, down, down —25 seconds seem an eternit3 r . Will the3 r hit? "Good heavens, did see that?" The stick bursts—one crump after another—riglita . cross, the target. Vivid flashes of greenish sparks zigzag across it, lasting with varied brilliance and lurid light effect for about 8 seconds. Someone says "oh boy, what a helluva beauty of a stick." With that by no means cryptic remarks we set course for home at top speed, wriggling between the bursts of fire [that are still decorating the upper air. One b3 r one we take turns to take a sandwich or two, some nuts and raisins, a piece of chocolate, some barley sugar, a few prunes and an apple, washed down by some coffee. Back at base, and reporting to the Intelligence to be cross-examined, we manage to have another snack of soup, sandwiches, and coffee, while the forms are filled up. Then we retire to the mess for our modest breakfast of grape fruit, cereal and milk, followed by eggs, tomatoes and bacon. A few slices of toast and marmalade round the meal off, and thus wc conclude our Government sponsored holiday in ths Reich.