COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

COMBAT AND COMPETITION
more than enough of Drope.
Alhorn, Bill as it had now become, was an ex Luftwaffe night
fighter station south east of Bremen. The runways, except for one
which had been hastily repaired, were cratered and useless. The
hangers no longer existed and the dispersals on the edge of a pine
forest were crowded with the burned out wrecks. A few buildings
surprisingly, including an excellent officers mess were virtually
untouched.
There was little time to enjoy any of that. As the fronts, east and
west, converged on the Elbe it was reported that a major German force
was moving northwards to make a last stand in Norway. It would travel
by sea, and embarkation was already under way, an ideal target for the
Typhoons. We were up before dawn on May 3rd, to a forecast of
perfect flying weather, and the news that 2nd TAP had ordered
maximum effort against shipping in the Lubeck/Neustadt area. This
was out of range from Alhorn, so the squadrons were to operate from
B150 Hustedt, north of Celle, alongside 121 Wing under 83 Group
Control.
I well remember those last hectic days of the war, not least because
Hustedt was close to Belsen and 121's Wingco had just visited it
himself.
Between sorties he attempted to describe what he had seen and
could still barely believe. And we, for the first time, became aware of
the horrors of the concentration camps.
I led two shows that day and the second, with eleven aircraft
remains as clear as yesterday. It was a beautiful afternoon. Visibility
must have been upwards of 40 miles, and a line of a cumulus
shadowed the Schleswig peninsular to port. Lubeck bay was shrouded
in smoke from earlier shipping strikes. Further up the coast, beyond
Neustadt, flames suddenly erupted from an enemy airfield. The fire
grew and spread feeding a huge column of smoke which drifted away
inland.
Immediately ahead, in the lee of Fehmarn Island, a modern
passenger vessel lay at anchor, uncamouflaged, dirty white in the
sunshine - and a freighter nearby. We went down on them almost
vertically, hanging in our straps, through a salvo of rocket flak and the
familiar curtain of shells, the hulls expanding in our sights. Both ships
were engulfed in bomb bursts, flame and smoke from direct hits, and
near misses cascading them with water.
Climbing away there was an excited call on the radio. Someone had
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