No. 314 Squadron.
Target for Today: Coastal Guns located at Île de Cézembre, in North Western France.
Percentage of bomb payload on target: 50%
Fatalities: (Rear-Gunner F/Sgt Antony 'Nylon' Valentine).
Note: Recommendation to No. 314 Squadron's Squadron Commander, that F/Sgt Valentine, be mentioned in dispatches for devotion to duty until the end, in which his life was ultimately taken.
Today's operation saw myself and the crew of Lady-X, steer south toward France. During the pre-op' briefing; amid a hive of sordid colourful chit-chat, it was jokingly suggested by an unseen voice, from a noisy trestle-table behind, that all of us take our buckets and spades along for the ride. "Take it from me fellas … the sands round St. Malo and that Île de Cézembre
place, are nothing less than smashing!", I heard an anonymous soul hail. This voice then continued: "I'll have you know that I was there before the War — beauty of a place, and as for their women!" to which 'the voice' soon received a barrage of catcalls … "Yup fellas, I reckon this one should prove to be a bit of a cakewalk."
Alas, for myself and my crew on this operation, the wishes of the unseen proved only to be fruitless, as we spied not a hint of St Malo's saucy sins or 'cake' come to that, but only the best that the Luftwaffe had to offer, time and again, ultimately resulting in the loss of one crew member, together with a general mauling of the mid-section of Lady-X's airframe.
Outbound from base: A small knot of WAAF and Groundcrew saw us off into the blue. My Flight/Engineer, F/O van der Boom, couldn't help but wave to one WAAF in particular; a bright and smiling red-head, whose nylons he had secured round his neck — how very Dutch indeed! Otherwise, the outbound trip was very pleasant, with a light scattering or cloud across good clear skies on what promised to be a nice short hop across the Channel.
On the approach to target: Our troubles began when we were jumped on by a Tame Boar Me-110; which bounced us a little north-east of Cherbourg, some six times! My Rear-Gunner; F/Sgt Valentine, had at dispersal, opted to swap positions with my Mid-upper Gunner; F/Sgt White — something they did on a regular basis — both as a means of curbing boredom and maximise familiarisation with one another's turret. Alas, it has today proved to be a decision that not only sobered the crew, but alas, also cost F/Sgt Valentine, his life.
In the ensuing engagement, the Me-110's pilot; evidently keen as mustard to bring Lady-X to ground, sought to target the mid-section. The enemy brought considerable damage to the airframe, striking the port-side ammunition box once, before going on to rake my aircraft's fuselage very heavily on each of his subsequent passes, on three of which, F/Sgt Valentine, was repeatedly struck. Despite the onslaught, F/Sgt Valentine remained at his position, and kept firing until he was too injured to continue.
Note: My regular Mid-upper Gunner; F/Sgt White; who was at the time stationed in the Rear-turret, duly shot the Tme Boar '110 down, as it broke away at the end of it's sixth pass, and duly seeks to claim it as a 100% confirmed kill. This kill is in his eyes, a little sense of justice for the loss of his colleague. His only regret is that the price was so high.
F/Sgt Valentine; having only recovered from injuries sustained during the previous operation to Ghent, received on this operation the following injuries:
(a)a light wound to his left shoulder blade.
(b)a deep gash to his neck.
(c)a gashed torso.
My Wireless/Operator; W/O Simon Templar, together with my Flight Engineer, were duly sent back to aid F/Sgt Valentine, though found him to be extremely bloody. F/Sgt Valentine was found to be slipping in and out of unconsciousness, as the Me-110 made its final pass. On this final pass, the Me-110 succeeded in damaging the crew intercom, thus rendering it unserviceable. F/O van der Boom and W/O Templar, next transfered F/Sgt Valentine to the crew rest bunk for medical attention, and administered morphine. F/Sgt Valentine, gave the pair one final glance then closed his eyes and I was then verbally informed of his death.
Bomb-run: Despite the loss of the crew intercom, we thankfully had daylight, a good clear sky and bags of bright green t.i's to show us the way, so I remained firm about pressing on. I next instructed F/O van der Boom, to play the messenger and had him act as a go-between; verbally instructing my Wireless Operator to take up position in the Mid-upper turret — whose guns were still working — on completion of the bomb-run. The lack of perspex in the postion, no doubt made him feel very cool, to say the least! I likewise informed my Bomb-Aimer F/Sgt Styles, via F/O van der Boom, to use his initiative on the run, and waggle his feet for 'left-left and right', and to keep them still for steady.
Flak, during the bomb-run was heavy, though we were lucky to escape any further damage to the fuselage. F/O van der Boom, duly kept watch: signalling me where necessary to either steer this way, or that, and I'm happy to say that depsite everything we had encountered to that point, we made the drop on time, hit the aiming-point with our bombload at least 50% on target!
Return leg: Another encounter with a Tame Boar Me-110, on the return leg, once again occurring as we were busily steering on a tangent to take us round Cherbourg, and like that we encountered earlier, this one was also intent on doing some considerable damage.
In the ensuing running battle, my Bomb-Aimer; F/Sgt Styles was lightly injured by a round which penetrated the window of his station, but his scratch appears a minor number; as the Station Medical Officer, sought to assure myself that he'll make a rapid recaovery.
Additionally; my Lancaster suffered damage to her starboard side, firstly, to her her fuel tank which quickly caught ablaze after a passing strafe from the roving '110! The fire quickly ensued, though was thankfully extinguished after a second charge was applied via the extinguisher. Secondly, my aircraft received damage to her starboard alieron. The alieron soon became fully unserviceable, however, as we were homeward bound, we had no hang-ups about needing to maintain an awkward course, and were soon crossing the golden windswept wheat fields of southern england, steering for base.
Needless to say, it finally felt good to touch down after such a tedious operation.. back to base for a laced mug of tea, the sight of a sweet smiling WAAF and maybe even some cake … I guess all is not so bad.
F/Officer D. Green
Captain of Lancaster Lady-X