COMBAT AND COMPETITION.pdf - Lakes Gliding Club

COMBAT AND COMPETITION
massed ack ack took a dreadful toll. JG77 never flew again in
Geschwader strength.
Within the hour we were on our way to attack a suspension bridge
over the Waal. Almost next door to the one which had been Allan
Smith's downfall, it was to remain standing for another three days,
before we finally took it out. Ben Lenson, who was flying number two
to Jimmy Simpson on the second attack, scored the two vital hits. His
thousand pounders exploded on the roadway, in the middle of the
main span, and the whole structure rolled slowly sideways and sagged
into the water. It was a superb piece of bombing.
New Year's Day had begun with enemy fighters. For 193 it ended
with intense flak, one pilot shot down in flames, and a remarkable
escape. The survivor was Charlie Hall. A 20mm shell exploded inside
his starboard main tank and the fuel failed to ignite. Lucky Charlie.
Charlie joined me shortly afterwards, with two other pilots, on a
trip by road to Chievres south east of Brussels. There we were due to
pick up four new Typhoons, part of a larger batch, being flown in by
the ATA on their first Continental delivery. Chievres, until recently
a USAAF base, had become the temporary home of 123 Typhoon Wing
which been had moved there - in an essentially political gesture - to
support the Yanks and confront the German thrust in the Ardennes.
Our Typhoons arrived at last light, just before the snow started to
come down in earnest, and we were grounded. Billeted out in a
country house, which even then managed to boast huge log fires, clean
sheets and feather duvets. Much appreciated as the blizzard swirled
outside. But it began to look as if we might be stuck there for ages.
Field Marshal von Rundstedt's spearheads continued to move
westwards and the air was full of rumours, fact and fiction, like the
paratroopers of Deelen. This time they included the legendary figure
of Otto Skorzeny, famous for rescuing Mussolini in 1943, and now said
to be leading a special force, in American uniforms, creating havoc
behind the lines! Elsewhere, so the stories went, allied fuel and
ammunition dumps had been overrun and blown up. An American
forward airfield had been captured by tanks, the Mustangs destroyed,
and most of the personnel killed or captured. It was difficult to know
what to believe.
In the end we got airborne, late on the fourth day, splashing down
the runway between banks of bulldozed snow and ice. The air was
crystal clear and an occasional dying cumulus, pale in the evening
light, drifted slowly across our track. As we headed for home the
76