Mission 107 night of 19/20th Oct. 1944
Target: Ladbergen, Germany; canal.
A.A.R. prepared and submitted by F.O. Bernard Keen
Whilst in the Briefing I saw we had a new arrival at 314. Introducing myself I learned that he, Keith Duncan, had volunteered to join our happy band after hearing about our exploits from a friend in the 281stBG; those yankees flyers. He seemed to have a slight accent but I couldn't place it and felt it inappropriate to ask. Flying his first mission in "Dragon's Rage" I wished him well as I went to join my crew at the hard-stand. The night was overcast and cold.
Take-off was straight forward,the green signal flare easily visible in the gloom. As we were gaining altitude a dark shadow grew in our view ahead. It was one of our lads making heavy work of the climb. We needed a quick adjustment, and then correction back to our course, to avoid him. Not sure who it was; silly b***er. We made good progress out over the North Sea. Regular reports from the guys gave the ok on all systems. Ladbergen here we come.
Some 200 miles had passed below us before we encountered Jerry. First thing we knew was Holloway shouting over the intercom, "The blessed port wing is losing bits!" and then "There fuel leaking! Starboard side!" I could see that there was a small streak of fuel but it ceased fairly quickly as the self-seal took over. On the port wing the flap wouldn't respond to control. We'd make out. Jerry came again but didn't repeat his success and left us. The next one was pretty green as he let rip too soon, allowing us to spot his approach. Dinging the port wing root he remained in our vision as he repositioned his craft. Bombadier Mills lined up and gave him what for. His fuel exploded and he dropped, flaming down. (K)
We now were approaching Ladbergen. The bombs and incediaries could be seen ahead illuminating the ground. The search lights were sweeping the sky. Silhouettes of planes from our fight could be seen against the columns of light. Flak expolsions occured here and there; the near ones shaking our craft. Clear of lights, explosions and bandits we dropped our bombs cleanly. Estimated 20% on target. Could've been better.
Away from the target we got hit unexpectedly again. The damage was thankfully light; starbord tail rudder and a couple of superficials. We were pretty tense as we looked for the Jerry. Holloway spotted him. "12 o'clock high!" he warned. (One day, I mused, they'll make a film with that title. It's a good one.) Our defensive fire was ineffective and he was able to score a hit in our tail. Sgt. Ray Hope back there advised his suit heater was no longer functioning as shells has sliced through the circuitry. "I'm okay Skipper. I'll let you know when things get bad."
We flew on and I had to consider maintaining the present height or dropping to an altitude that would be better for our tail gunner. The decision was made for me. The tail section received hits from a sneak attack by a Me 110. Elevator and
roots took the damage. I began evasive action by dropping the nose to starboard; then lifting slightly, followed by dipping again. The chaps spotted the e/a we needed too deal with. Still to our rear he dogged us but Ray Hope landed a few shells across his fusilage(-1) and he failed to respond; his aim way off. As he overtook us we saw Holloway's tracers, from mid-upper, cross his path and as the shells impacted he spectacularly broke up (K).
Blighty was soon to be below us and at the lower altitude Ray should be feeling less cold. His report on his condition was typically modest. "Just a bit of teeth chatter Skip. Don't you worry about me."
Landing was okay. The damage in the tailplane, roots, elevators and the wing flap were not an issue. Later information from Groundcrew Chief notified damage totalling 123 points. The M.O. told Sgt. Hope that he was lucky that no frostbite could be found on his limbs or extremities. He'll be with us for the next jaunt.
Report compiled and submitted with respect by F.O. Bernard Keen