No. 314 Squadron.
Target for Tonight,
14th/15th August 1944; Railway Marshalling Yard at Orléans.
Percentage of bomb payload dropped on target: 40%
Fatalities: None to report, however the night's flying operation to Orléans, resulted in two of my aircrew seperately receiving wounds whilst engaged in their duties.
Enemy aircraft shot down: 1.
Briefing:
The target for tonight, the 14th/15th August 1944, was a large and productive railway marshalling yard located at Orléans in Central France. Orléans itself, located not to far south of Paris, presented as a good target — the photo-recon images made available by the Intelligence types at briefing, showed the marshalling yard as a readily identifiable site by day, and a good silhouette by night; as the Intelligence Officer's shot taken in the dark from 25,000ft, clearly showed. Thus, with this in mind, the night's op' ahead was beginning to bode well.
Owing to the loss of my Rear-Gunner; F/Sgt Valentine, on the op' to Île de Cézembre, we had expected to receive another fellow via the Aircrew Selection Center, however fate conspired to do otherwise, ultimately leaving us without a replacement mid-upper gunner, until 15:00hrs on the 14th! Thus said, I'm glad to report that the fellow we did eventually receive; F/Sgt Cliff MacDonald of the RCAF, seemed a capable sort. The fellow is 'doing the rounds' as a spare bod, since losing his entire crew- he being invalided with influenza at the time of their loss. MacDonald, is not scheduled to remain with us; he is moving on after this op' to another station, with the final intention of teaming up with his fellow Canadians, though in this business one can never be certain.
Take-off:
Take-off tonight, went like clockwork. Whilst waiting at the holding point at the end of the peri-track, we watched as Candy steered onto the strip, before departing determinedly into the night, then took up our place behind the bomber on the runway. I could see the usual knot of ground crew and waaf, boldly courting the chill autumnal air that was whipping up their coat-tails; not least my Flight Engineer's 'bit of skirt', who with a very hearty smile, gave he — and then all of us — a much unexpected yet welcome view of her very shapely legs!
I'm sure that I speak for all who observed, that she's a pretty little number to say the least and that it would have been splendid to remain and see more, but as the aldis flashed green, it was all eyes ahead, throttles forward, and to the task in hand as we made our way thundering down the strip and off into the night.
En-route:
Tonight's op', which started so sweetly, then quickly took a shade for the worst. At a bearing south-east of Dieppe and west of Saint-Germain-d'Etables, we were completely taken by suprise by a me-110, who chastised us thereafter for quite a while. My Rear-Gunner; F/Sgt White — who I heard shouting "Corkscrew port, skipper... Go, go go!" as a belt of tracer licked past the top of his turret, was left in no doubt that the foe was a veteran, and I'm inclined to agree. I spent the next spell in a tangle of tracer and it proved a devil of a job trying to loose the jerry — as he was a well seasoned egg — but I did eventually do as such after tucking Lady-X deep underneath a rogue wall of cumulus, before resuming on a tangent for Orléans.
Well north of target near Voise, we were once again bounced on by another me-110. This fellow did severe damage to my aircraft's oxygen supply. The first I knew of it was when my ex-Oxford educated Navigator; F/Lt Rupert Winterbourne-Gunner, shouted over the intercom: "Bastard! He's got our bloody oxygen!", which my Flight-Engineer quickly confirmed, so it was nose down and a speedy descent to 10,000ft, with the for following in hot pursuit!
Despite having the enemy night-fighter follow us down, I committed Lady-X to a further corkscrew, resulting in another spectacular tangle of tracer, though this time coming up trumps; with my Rear-Gunner bagging him dead.
A deeper inspection by my Flight-Engineer, revealed that as well as the main oxygen supply, jerry had also got our onboard heating — much to the dismay of all!
Approaching Orléans:
On the approach to the bomb-run, over Cercottes, I slipped Lady-X into place; to follow the railway line that ran from the french town below to the target area. The weather was found to be favourable and I had a splendid view of the yellow t.i's — still some way off — that were going down over the aiming point, though did feel somewhat concerned about the chances of bagging some flak. One is a sitting duck at 10,000ft, and though we managed to avoid the lair of the enemy's searchlights, we did succumb to one notable flak burst — which violently shook the nose — blowing the parachute exit hatch clean off its mounting, before sending it out into the night! Though my Bomb-Aimer did loose his maps and personal effects, he was thankfully uninjured: having been by the bomb-bay window at the time of the impact.
Towards the target area:
Things then began to get grim, when we were bounced on by a wild boar fw-190, which sought its best to take us neatly out of the action — and he so nearly did.
Our bomb-bay was badly strafed (thankfully it did remain operable), as was our control cables (hit once), and port-outer engine. The engine initally mis-fired, then completely siezed up, thus becoming fully unserviceable.
My Wireless Operator; W/O Simon Templar, was hit by one of several rounds fired at his positon by the enemy night-fighter, resulting in his being lightly wounded. Templar, nonetheless opted to remain at his post, and did as such for the remainder of the flight.
Bomb-run:
Despite the severe draft blowing throughout the nose section and cockpit; caused by the missing exit hatch, and a serious risk of my Bomb-Aimer both copping flak and/or falling to his death — as he opted to remain at his station so as to drop our bomb-load, we came straight in over the aiming point with our bomb run 'on', and made a duly commendable drop, with 40% of our bomb-load on target. This figure almost certainly could have been higher, had it not been for the difficulties faced.
Exiting the target area:
Leaving the target area and steering to port on a north-easterly tangent, I and my Navigator reviewed our eta for arrival at base — originally marked down as 02:00hrs, and altered it to 02:25hrs. No sooner had we done as such, did we run into further trouble! At 10,000ft, this time over Artenay, an unseen me-110, creeped up on us and sought to waste no time in attempting to have us bagged. Heavily strafing the airframe, this jerry succeeded in shooting up the starboard wing, port tail-plane and bomb-bay, not to mention sending a few rounds into the nose section; two of which seriously wounded my Bomb-Aimer as he was vacating his position, and it was only by a miracle that he didn't fall through the exit hatch (Styles had no parachute on at this time), and it was right beside the exit hatch that my Flight/Engineer found him bleeding and knocked-out.
With F/Sgt Styles, clearly rendered unconscious and unfit to continue, I had him transferred to the crew rest bunk for the remainder of the flight, with my Flight-Engineer and Navigator, taking it in turns to check on both his and my Wireless Operator's progress. Needless to say, by this point we were all beginning to feel very 'browned-off' thus after a chat with the crew, I elected to drop the nose to gain speed and make good headway for base on three engines, as fast as was safe to do so … principly to avoid any further night-fighter contact.
Thankfully no further incident took place, and so it was that at 02:33hrs, just as the moon was coming up, we touched down at base.
Needless to say, I don't think MacDonald will be missing this old girl for quite a while!
Note to Squadron Commander:
Recommend that F/Sgt Styles, is duly awarded the D.F.M., for his dedication to duty in exceptional circumstances.
Signed: F/Officer D. Green
Captain of Lancaster Lady-X.