COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

CHAPTER FIVE
WINTER IN FLANDERS
The defeated remnants of the German armies in Normandy took
another severe mauling from the Typhoons as they struggled across the
Seine. The retreat degenerated into a rout. There was no coherent line
of defence as the enemy fell back in disorder towards the Pas de Calais
and the Belgian frontier. And the ground attack squadrons, operating
at maximum range from their beachhead airfields, harried them from
dawn to dusk.
Johnny Button had gone on rest and Guy 'Plum' Plamondon, a
French Canadian, had taken over the Squadron. On the last day of
August, leading eight aircraft on armed reconnaissance he caught an
enemy convoy out in the open between Arras and Douai. Trapped on
one of those poplar lined roads which run straight as a die across the
plains of northern France without a hedge or a scrap of cover in sight.
Plum placed us perfectly. We swung into line abreast and dived
towards them, drop tanks tumbling away. A motley collection of
military and commandeered civilian vehicles, some horsedrawn, they
were crawling along in the heat and seemed oblivious to their fate.
When they spotted us at last a few wild bursts of flak came - but it
was all too late. The wagons at the front and rear were knocked out
almost simultaneously, and many more were caught on the first pass,
trapping the remainder. The flak trucks were swamped. The return
fire died.
We came in again, taking out most of the rest and, as we pulled
away, nothing moved on the road below except billowing flames and
clouds of dirty smoke. We had accounted for 22 vehicles and reduced
a whole column to ruins in a matter of minutes.
The next sortie, another armed recce, further up the Pas de Calais,
was briefed to cross the Channel and land at Mansion. Approaching
the search area the German radar echoed in our headphones:
"Yoy...ing... Yoy...ing... Yoy...ing..." An incessant message. The
radar sounds grew more demanding. Easy to picture the long gun
barrels swinging far below, the high velocity 88mm rounds slamming
home, a swift succession of muzzle flashes above the emplacements,
shell bursts erupting around us...... And then we saw a gaggle of
Lancasters ahead, attacking a heavily wooded position, their giant
bomb bursts marching through the trees.
Further north we shot up a couple of heavy MT a few miles inland
from Boulogne. Then a horse drawn wagon appeared charging along
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