COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

COMBAT AND COMPETITION
second section in low level was sternly refused.
Butch had an opportunity to retrieve the situation later that day,
going back with twelve aircraft, and a mixed bomb load. After the
napalm fiasco we wanted to hit the enemy hard. This time we went in
on the deck, and the artificial smoke hung about us, rolling downwind
like dirty fog banks on either side - pointing the way.
When the Canadians overran the position they found the house at
its centre razed to the ground. Our phosphorous incendiaries and
anti-personnel clusters had wreaked havoc amongst the surrounding
trenches and dugouts, and the survivors were totally demoralised. Even
the earlier, inaccurate, napalm bursts had played a significant part due
to their unexpected and frightening nature.
That was the first and last time we flew operationally with napalm,
inconclusive but obviously potent, and possibly the only time it was
used by the RAF in World War II. USAF Lightnings dropped napalm
in Italy during 1945 - although where, and how often, is not clear -
and the bombs used on the Boscombe trials had attachment lugs for
British and American racks.
As I wrestled with the problems of napalm, Bob Gibbings was
having his troubles elsewhere. On an armed recce led by Geoff Hartley
he was strafing an airfield when the target blew up in his face. In his
graphic description:
/ found myself flying through a red hell, convinced that my last
moments had come. The engine stopped, presumably from oxygen
starvation, only to restart immediately I emerged from the holocaust.
To my utter amazement I was still flying, and I climbed gingerly away.
The windscreen and canopy slowly cleared revealing an aircraft that
was almost a total write-off, leaking fuel, oil and glycol, the leading
edges burst open, everything scorched and burnt.
Incredibly Bob flew on for 20 minutes climbing to 7,000 feet in the
process. A few miles short of the lines he decided that there was no
hope of getting home, and prepared to bunt out, jettisoning the canopy
and releasing the straps. Just a little trial to make sure the system
worked. He pushed the stick tentatively forward, and in a trice was
half out of the cockpit, trying desperately to hang on to the spade grip.
Another minute and his battered Typhoon would have been safely
back over friendly territory. Instead he was dangling on the end of a
parachute being shot at by the enemy. He landed unhurt only to fall
into the hands of a one eyed madman, a major from the Russian front,
who threatened him with a firing squad. Hostilities ended before he
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