Australia's Few. 31 October 1940

And so, on 31 October 1940, the Battle of Britain was over. Of the ’30 or so’ Australians who had fought 13 had died and one had been taken prisoner of war. More were to die before the end of the war, including Pilot Officer Peter John Moore, who was listed missing in action on 3 June 1942. Des Sheen was one who survived the war. He went on to enjoy a happy marriage, a good career with the RAF and a satisfying ‘retirement’ in the British aviation industry. He died in 2001, aged 83. He ‘enjoyed every minute’ of his extensive and varied career with the RAF. ‘I was lucky all the way through with postings and I wouldn’t have missed it for anything.’

 

This is my final daily post on the actions of John ‘Jack’ Connolly Kennedy, Stuart Crosby Walch, Richard ‘Dick’ Lindsay Glyde, Paterson Clarence Hughes, Kenneth Christopher Holland, John Dallas Crossman, William Henry Millington Jr, and Desmond Frederick Burt Sheen.

All fought bravely and well, and helped to protect Britain from invasion. 73 years later, their contribution and sacrifice is still remembered. They will continue to be remembered. It has been a great joy and privilege for me to bring their stories to a wider readership and I look forward to extending that readership when NewSouth Books publishes my account of the experiences of Jack, Stuart, Dick, Pat, Ken, John, Bill and Des.

 

 

Farewell, men of honour and courage. Vale all good and brave men who fought and died in the Battle of Britain, and after, and during all wars. They will be remembered.

 

 

Australia's Few. 29 October 1940

The Luftwaffe put on a show on 29 October 1940that resulted in what 249 squadron diarist considered ‘a lively day for North Weald. And indeed it was. Bill Millington was in the air four times. The first was an early morning solo patrol of North Weald. That was quiet, as was his second and third sorties. But, at about 16.40 p.m., when the squadron was ordered to patrol the base at 15,000 feet in company of 257 Squadron which had arrived at North Weald earlier that month, they encountered a nasty surprise.

As 249 were taking off, the aerodrome was dive-bombed by about twelve Me 109s which, at this stage of the war, had been adapted to carry bombs and act as ‘hit and run’ bombers. These twelve were under the protection of more 109s above. Red Section got off safely despite the falling bombs and Bill ‘took off as quickly as possible behind Red Section’.

As one 500 lb bomb landed in the middle of the aerodrome, Yellow Section ‘took right off over the exploding bomb’. Pilot Officer Lofts’s Hurricane was badly damaged but he was able to land safely. Sergeant Tich Palliser, who was already airborne, was hit by flying debris which knocked off part of his prop. To make matters worse, his engine was in bad shape so he circled the airfield and landed. And what a sight he saw.

The squadron diarist recorded that about 40 bombs were dropped in all. A hangar was destroyed, a lorry burst into flames and one bomb landing at the end of the station between the latrine and dining hall, resulting in a great deal of damage. One man, who was in the latrine at the time, was taken to hospital with shrapnel wounds and died the next day. 257’s casualties were much worse. Between the two squadrons, 19 were killed on the ground and 42 injured. Of those, according to Brian Cull, the squadron historian, six of the fatalities and 12 of the injured occurred on the airfield.

Meanwhile, in the air, Red Section gave chase to the departing raiders, which were heading west, with Bill following closely.

He was a little behind Red which were catching up to the Me 109s and so he ‘opened up to maximum speed’. By about 17.00 p.m. he had ‘gradually overhauled e/a which had climbed to 3000 feet’ above the coast west of Southminster. There he saw:

‘Four Me 109s in front with two He 113s [sic] weaving slightly behind. One Me 109 was lagging behind on the right and I formatted on him line astern and opened fire at about 100 yards.

E/a immediately dived for haze over the sea and I followed close behind, firing continuous burst. Large pieces flew off e/a and it disappeared, going vertically down into the haze at about 500 feet, emitting large quantities of black smoke.’

 

Bill estimated that the Me 109 crashed into the sea near Buxey Sands, but he did not see it and so, he was credited with a probable Me 109.

 

 

Australia's Few: 28 October 2013

Bill Millington’s success on 25 October was a prelude to a busy end of the month, where every flying skill would be tested.

Mid-morning on 28 October 19410, a solo Dornier Do 17 had been clocked near 249 Squadron’s base at North Weald. It was the second of the day—the first had been despatched by Tom Neil in an early morning attack. 249 were scrambled at 9.50 a.m. and were patrolling above the clouds when the Dornier dropped its load and disappeared. Bill was Blue 1, and acting as weaver.

The weaver, usually part of a pair, flew independently above and behind the main formation, tasked with keeping an eye out for the enemy and providing rear protection to his confreres. Although the weavers were usually the pilots with the best eyesight and situational awareness, it was not a highly sought-after position as many inexperienced pilots were easily picked off because, in watching everyone else’s backs, they could not concentrate on their own.

Indeed, according to Australian ace Clive Caldwell, who often carried out this task in his 1941 desert sorties, this ‘really was a dangerous position’ and more often than not, the rest of the squadron or flight would only know that they were under attack, not because the weaver had spotted something, but because ‘the warning came by seeing one or both the weavers spinning past in flames’.

The hapless pilots acting as weavers were often referred to as Tail End Charlies (Bomber Command used the same nickname for its rear gunners). But, as Caldwell also acknowledged, if the weavers were good, and the position used correctly, the Charlies could be very effective. 

And so, on 28 October, Bill, who had developed his eye sight and gunnery skills while rabbit hunting in the Adelaide hills, had the honour of the most dangerous position in the squadron. What did he make of it?

He was patrolling in Hurricane flying in V7677 above the cloud near Hawkinge. At about 10.10 a.m.:

‘Control reported bandit coming south west about ten miles north east of us. I sighted the Do 17 as it broke cloud about three miles to the north east.’

The Dornier was at about 9000 feet, and so Bill:

‘Started to dive towards it and reported position to leader, Red 1. Two bursts of AA fire close to e/a drew attention of Red 1 to e/a and three more aircraft were despatched. I dived on e/a from above and behind, opening fire at about 200 yards. Bullets could be seen penetrating rear turret and I closed to about 50 yards before breaking away. Lack of fire from rear turret leads me to believe that rear gunner was killed.’

Which was just as well, because, if he were alive, he would not have been able to miss Bill at 50 yards. But back to Bill’s commentary.

‘E/A streamed white smoke and vanished in clouds but smoke had vanished when it again appeared. E/A escaped in clouds.

Yellow 1 [Pilot Officer Neil] then joined me and, on instructions from Controller, we orbited at 12,000 feet position near Dungeness.

We sighted a Ju 88 occasionally breaking cloud coming from the north, waited for it to come into the clear and attacked from above. Yellow 1 came in behind e/a and I carried out a quarter attack from above, allowing full deflection and, with a long burst, fixed his starboard engine. As I was out of ammunition I made a few dummy attacks from above to keep gunner engaged while Yellow 1 continued.

Yellow 1 killed rear gunner and there appeared to be a small explosion in rear of fuselage. E/A was heading south east, streaming white smoke. When out of ammunition we broke off.’

The Ju 88 was then sighted by Pilot Officer McConnell, Yellow 3, who ‘finished off e/a, crashing in area 10–15 miles south east of Dungeness’.

Brave Bill Millington had perfected his art as a fighter pilot. Not only was he prepared to go in close for his attack on one enemy aircraft but he was willing to continue feinting with another to keep the gunner occupied, despite running out of ammunition, so that Tom Neil could have his chance at it.

According to Bill’s combat report, the two attacks, with the intervening brief orbit of Dungeness, were all over within 30 minutes. He was on the ground again at 11.10 a.m. and heard the news that he was credited with a damaged Dornier and a 1/4 share in the Ju 88. And then he was in the air again from 15.45 to 17.15 on a squadron patrol of Maidstone. 

Bill’s partner in success, Tom Neil, told me he remembered this occasion, as one of two ‘rather special days’ that he takes pleasure in remembering.

‘I recall reliving these and other events with him with some glee when we discussed them later, he being especially animated, as he appeared to enjoy flying as my partner on that and other occasions, and often told me so.’

Photo is of Bill Millington: a keen-eyed rabbit and e/a hunter.

 

 

Australia's Few. 27 September 1940

Bill Millington had a successful day out with 249 Squadron on 27 September 1940.

‘I climbed 1000 feet above enemy bombers and made a steep dive quarter attack on the rear e/a. At this time there were only 7 or 8 bombers left as they were being continuously attacked by Hurricanes. Rear e/a left formation smoking and I delivered a quarter attack opening fire at 100 yards, closing. Port engine of enemy aircraft exploded and e/a dived down steeply to ground in flames. Three fighters, some thousands of feet below, seemed to be following e/a down. E/a crashed South East of Portsmouth. Bomber formation split up and not one reached the French coast. PO Neil and I attacked the remaining Ju 88 at about 4000 feet which had been attacked by numbers of our fighters, but was still maintaining height and flying steadily over the coast. I delivered a quarter attack, opening fire from 100 yards closing and the starboard motor of e/a burst into flames. E/a dived steeply over the coast losing height rapidly and PO Neil finished it off with a burst from close range. E/a crashed into sea off Shoreham.’

 

 

Australia's Few. 25 September 1940

On 25 September 1940 the Luftwaffe’s Kampfgruppe 55 (KG55), along with escorts, attacked the Bristol Aero Company’s works. This was the first time the Luftwaffe had sent so large a force to attack an inland target. 152 Squadron was one of the squadrons sent to intercept. Ken Holland, in Spitfire N3173, was Blue Two, flying with Squadron Leader Peter Devitt. The individual sections were not able to form up in the air and so could not operate as a unit; they operated independently.

Just before 11.30 a.m. Devitt ordered Ken and Green Section to climb as he surmised the enemy aircraft would be heading towards Bristol. Control advised that the ‘bandits’ were 15 miles north of Yeovil at 15,000 feet so he then ordered the climb in this direction. When they were over Bath he saw 100 plus enemy aircraft making a wide sweep with about 50 fighters astern and above. He advised control of this and remained in the sun. The enemy bombers turned due South and were approaching Devitt and B Flight. He ordered a number one attack, leading from above.

It was an aggressive engagement, with roiling dogfights.

‘Sergeant Holland came up at great speed, circled once to identify his quarry and opened fire at approx 400 yards from the rear and slightly to the port side. His first burst apparently took effect for the [Heinkel] He 111 rapidly began to lose height and circled as if looking for a landing. Sergeant Holland turned quickly and got in a second burst, turned again and at 2000 feet came up on the enemy’s tail. This was his only mistake and was fatal as the rear gunner had not been silenced and was able to get in one burst at short range. This burst was fatal and the machine of Sergeant Holland dropped his nose and crashed.’

A witness to the battle saw the Heinkel and Ken’s Spitfire plummet. The wreckage was strewn across the fields of Church Farm Woolverton, a village about four miles north of Frome, in Somerset. Heinkel and Spitfire were less than 500 yards apart. The witness recalled that:

‘the Spitfire broke its back as it crashed. I sent the gardener out to see if the pilot was all right—nothing could be done for him—he had been shot right through the head.’

Kenneth Christopher Holland was only 20 years old. He was the youngest Australian to die in the Battle of Britain.

 

Australia's Few. 23 September 1940

46 and 249 Squadrons were ordered to carry out another Wing interception on the morning of 23 September. John Crossman at Stapleford Tawney, flying V6748, took off at 9.25 a.m. 46 Squadron met up with 249 Squadron, including Bill Millington in Hurricane V6622, who took off minutes later, over North Weald at 20,000 feet.

John noted that there were ‘plenty of fighters around which made off as soon as they saw us’. In the distance, he ‘saw a dog fight over Dover’. It was too far away and he made no attempt to join in. He watched as ‘three kites went down in flames but [was] too far to see whether they were ours or Jerry’s.’

During their patrol, John ‘went up as high as 25,000 feet and, despite the mild autumn weather on the ground, his ‘hands were frozen almost stiff’. He was looking forward to a hand knitted pullover that was on its way from Australia because ‘as we do most of our patrols in the vicinity of 20,000 feet we aren’t generally too warm in the air in spite of a lot of clothes’.

 There appeared to be plenty of ‘Jerries’ in the distance, and John even saw some ‘coming over from France but they turned back as soon as they saw us’. But, as there was no enemy within fighting cooee, the Wing patrol was abandoned after about 90 minutes. 249 Squadron’s verdict? It was nothing but a ‘quiet day, nothing to report’.

 

 

Australia's Few. 21 September 1940

Ken Holland was in the bad books. He slept in until 8.25 a.m. on 21 September 1940, needing as much sleep as he could get after his late night/early morning. Later on, he flew as Blue Two with Flight Lieutenant Thomas on a flap that was of such little consequence it did not make it into 152 Squadron’s Operations Record Book. Perhaps it was just as well, as our young Australian had put up a number of blacks. First off, there was just sheer bad flying. Then he carried out a blitz dive and lost UM-N’s  knockout patch. And if all that wasn’t bad enough, without a hint of enemy aircraft in the general area, he fired ten rounds from each gun.

 

Ken was well and truly ticked off when he landed, and, sorry to say, he thoroughly deserved it. But it is hard to be unforgiving of such boyish joie de vivre. After all, Ken was only 20.

 

 

Australia's Few. 20 September 1940

At Stapleford Tawney, John Crossman, in Hurricane N2599, and 46 Squadron carried out a joint patrol of Chelmsford at 15,000 with 504 Squadron from 10.45 a.m. to 12.30 p.m. on 20 September 1940.  Despite it being ‘an absolutely marvellous day’, ‘strangely enough we haven’t had a Jerry up all day near us’. But for once, other than his usual annoyance at ‘sitting down here waiting’, John was not too worried about the lack of aerial activity as he had something else to focus on.

‘A new aeroplane arrived in the flight today. So I grabbed it for myself. My last aeroplane was written off when I went on leave Wednesday. One of the chaps took it up and was shot down’.

This was Sergeant George William Jefferys who baled out and died when his parachute failed to open.

John ‘had my mechanics working on my new kite all day and generally getting things ship shape’.

 

No doubt he was looking forward to flying V6748 into battle.

 

 

Australia's Few. 19 September 1940

Ken Holland was back in action again on 19 September when there was another ‘flap after lunch’. Green section was ordered to 15,000 feet over Warmwell. They were vectored onto a Junkers Ju 88 over the channel at 10,000 feet. The attack was delivered at 16.20 p.m. Ken’s individual fighter combat report is extant and he can tell of this encounter:

‘RT of Green One was unserviceable so I became Green One. I was ordered to 15,000 feet over Warmwell and was then vectored to Ju 88. As there was cloud at 10,000 feet Green Two [Pilot Officer Williams] was below cloud and I went above cloud at 11,500 feet. When cloud broke I went down to given height and sighted Ju 88 ahead on the right two miles away. Green Two was left behind below cloud. I gave Tally Ho but Green Two could not find me. I made alternate quarter attacks from left and right from 300 to 200 yards aiming first at the gunners’ positions and then at each engine. EA took slight evasive action, heading for cloud on a southerly course. White and black puffs of smoke came from both engines and there was no return fire after my second attack.

I continued to attack and eventually the EA, now at about 8000 feet, dived vertically towards the sea, with both engines on fire. As my ammunition was finished I flew on a northerly course, and came to the Isle of Wight. My engine was missing slightly so I made for Portsmouth aerodrome, where I landed and after checking engine returned to base’.

Ken was ultimately credited with this victory but he was not initially certain and noted it as ‘V!?’.

 

Australia's Few. 18 September 1940

46 Squadron at Stapleford Tawney were very busy on 18 September 1940. They carried out four patrols, each one as a wing with 249 Squadron, which was based at North Weald. John only flew on one of these patrols, a morning interception. Flying Hurricane V7442, he was in the air for one hour and 20 minutes.

‘We saw several formations of enemy fighters but no bombers. The fighters left tout suite when they saw us but we didn’t follow as we were looking for bombers. Didn’t see any so went home’.

Later that day, 24 hour leave pass in hand and car freshly filled with petrol, John headed to London with Billy Pattullo. ‘They ‘went [to] numerous places. Met four Aussie officers and started a sing song at Regent Palace, then onto several night clubs. Had a whoopee time’.

 

 

Australia's Few. 17 September 1940

At 13.50 p.m. on 17 September 1940, just after lunch, three Spitfires from 152 Squadron’s B Flight took off from Warmwell and commenced a patrol over Portland Bill. They were then vectored onto a formation of Junkers Ju 88s at 17,000 feet which was flying north over Shepton Mallet. Ken Holland was Two, and was flying UM-J. (Ken notes that this was Green Section but the squadron’s combined combat report records it as Blue Section.)

Ken, Pilot Officer Marrs (1) and Flying Officer O’Brian (3) sighted a lone enemy aircraft about a mile away. They closed and carried out a No 1 attack. The Ju 88 dived steeply into cloud cover at about 6000 feet to evade them. Ken, Marrs and O’Brian broke up and chased the Ju 88 separately, each attacking as the opportunity arose. Most of the battle occurred in the cloud cover.

They saw white smoke coming from the starboard engine but the Ju 88 was far from totally stricken; Marrs copped some machine gun fire from the top gun early in the attack. His Spitfire seized. He then bowed out and headed for Colerne Aerodrome where a bullet hole was found his Spit’s oil cooler.

Meanwhile, Ken and O’Brian continued their attack. The Junkers was taking violent evasive action, diving, slide slipping, throttling back and doing vertical banked steep turns in alternate directions. Ken and O’Brian clung to it. It tried climbing on one engine but still could not throw them. Ken and O’Brian continued to fire on the starboard engine until it stopped and the smoke had almost ceased. Then O’Brian struck with full deflection, concentrating his fire from below on the Ju 88’s right wing. There was no return fire. Ken and O’Brian continued their attack, concentrating on the enemy aircraft’s port rear quarter. Then they lost the Ju 88 as it headed through the cloud on a southerly course. It later crashed almost intact.

By this stage Ken’s engine was becoming hot so he landed at Yatesbury aerodrome where he discovered that UM-J had taken machine gun fire through the glycol header, oil pipe, starboard wheel bay and tyre. Yatesbury loaned him a Magister so he could fly back to Warmwell while the ground crew worked on J. Ken was in the air again later that afternoon; ‘another flap Bournemouth 15,000’ but he ‘saw nothing’.

In the final wash up of the post-lunch effort, it was determined that Ken had fired 1650 rounds, in five two second bursts, while closing from 550 to 200 yards. The section was credited with the destruction of the Ju 88, a 1/3 share each.

Australia's Few. 15 September 1940

Sunday 15 September saw the Luftwaffe launch a concentrated attack against London: the goal was to bring the RAF to its knees. It was a long, arduous day for Fighter Command. 11 Group was totally committed, 12 Group’s Duxford Wing was involved and 10 Group squadrons were called to protect the south west.

Fighter Command was were pitted against the Luftwaffe in a series of battles and defensive actions that lasted from about 9.30 a.m. to dusk. One of those defenders was John Crossman.

John Crossman and 46 Squadron were ‘ordered off just before lunch’. It wasn’t long before they:

‘Ran into hundreds of Jerry kites at about 19,000 feet. Three of us were going round to do head on attacks on some Dornier Do 215s. I lost speed, spun down 6000 feet came out near 20 more Dos 215 escorted by about 60 Me 109s. Three of the 109s came after me. I evaded then come round did a stern attack on the 215s. Put all my shots into one of them, set his port engine on fire and saw him go down. Cleared off then to re-arm. Wasn’t going to stay round on my own with 60 MEs 109 around.’

Yet again, John was ‘scared stiff in action’. But again, he put his fear aside and was clear headed in his attack. It paid off. He was credited with a probable Dornier Do 215. But he had no chance to rest on his laurels. He was up in the air again: ‘We were sent up twice more today. I chased a 215 into the clouds and lost him, otherwise wasn’t able to get near anything. They ran too fast’.

 

 

Australia's Few. 14 September 1940

46 Squadron was ordered to rendezvous with 504 Squadron and proceed to Maidstone. John, newly allocated to B Flight, was one of the eleven who took off at 18.00 p.m. and before long, was ‘in action for first time today.’

Near Biggin Hill, a formation of Me 109s was sighted heading west.

‘We attacked a formation of about 60 ME 109s at 20,000. I got one decent burst into a 109 but was unable to see if I got him as had to get out of the way of a few more. Jerries turned tail and we came home.’
 
Despite being so anxious for so long to get into combat, this first experience was not an easy one for John. He confessed that he ‘was scared sick and panicky’. There is a true courage in admitting your own failings; fear especially is one that has to be acknowledged in order to break through it. John did not flinch from the most basic of human frailties and accepted his fear. ‘I can honestly say I’ve never had the wind up more in my life. Worst part was just before we attacked.’  

 

 

Australia's Few. 13 September 1940

Ken Holland was burning the candle at both ends. After turning in at 1.00 a.m. he was back at 152 Squadron's dispersal at 5.00 a.m. on 13 September 1940. He hit upon a scheme (other than getting home early) to catch as much sleep as possible: ‘Think I will take to sleeping in the dispersal hut – it means getting an almost uninterrupted sleep instead of sleeping and waking by numbers as it were’. 

 

It was another day of ‘minor flaps’. Ken scrambled  as Green 2 for a patrol over Portland but it was of such little import  it was not recorded in the 152 Squadron ORB. After he was released he was off to Weymouth again to visit friends for a chat and some drinks at nearby pub. He must have been tired as he made an early night of it, turning in at midnight!

 

 

Australia's Few. 12 September 1940

John Crossman’s slumber at Acklington on 11/12 September was disturbed when he was woken up at 1.00 a.m. and told to report to 46 Squadron at North Weald that afternoon. He may be leaving 32 Squadron but he would soon have a better chance of seeing some action. He left Acklington at 10.00 a.m. but didn’t arrive in London until 7.00 that evening because:

‘There was a raid on and it took some time to get a train to Epping. All the way out, bombs were falling around and the Ack Ack and search lights were in action. Was bringing down a Belgian P/O with me who is also posted to No. 46 Squadron. He has little English. [This was Pilot Officer E.G.A. Seghers who would be killed 26 July 1944] We finally got to North Weald just before midnight to find 46 Squadron is at Stapleford eight miles away. We were not particularly impressed.’

John and Seghers then ‘had an awful job getting transport to Stapleford but finally arrived at 11.30 a.m.’ on 13 September.

 

 

Australia's Few. 11 September 1940

Back in Australia, Bill Millington’s family opened the 11 September 1940 edition of The Advertiser which had published a letter Bill had sent to his parents shortly after his first action: 

‘Something of the spirit of the RAF is shown in the letter Pilot-Officer Millington wrote to his parents before he had begun to establish his amazing record. It was written on July 8 from Australia House. “Things have improved a great deal recently as we are now fighting over our own territory or close to it,” he wrote. “This is a welcome change. In the last few days Jerry has been getting quite cheeky and sending aircraft over to our side of the Ditch. Slapping his ears back gives us the greatest of pleasure. It has now reached the stage when black crosses and swastikas make us see red and we welcome the opportunity to line a Hun plane up in the sight. Today the boys are absolutely fighting mad. Last night a Messerschmitt 109 shot down our squadron leader. Apart from being an ace pilot, he was a personal friend of each of the pilots and just one of the boys.”’

[This was Squadron Leader John Davies Clement Joslin, RAF 34158. He was found to have crashed at Chilberton Elms, Between Folkeston and Dover.]

The Advertiser then reported that ‘There is an interruption then in the letter, and it was continued at 5.30 pm just as though nothing had happened. “Called out just now, shortly after 3 pm—to be exact—to engage enemy aircraft near Dover. Results are still vague, but numbers of the enemy have been brought down in the sea and on land. Two of our aircraft are missing. One of the pilots landed in the ‘ditch’ by parachute and has been picked up. Unfortunately he was flying my machine, which is now in a watery grave. [This was Pilot Officer J.E.W. Wood] As I was supposed to be off for a few hours he took my plane. I happened to be close by, writing letters actually, dashed out, and took off in a spare which arrived a few days ago. Jerry is suffering colossal losses. We can’t expect to get away scot free, but when comrades go the will to win gets stronger, and we will go down fighting.”’

In the Scouting news of the same edition of The Advertiser, Scouter noted that, Bill a member of the Forestville Rover Crew, had had a 'share of excitement in England serving with the RAF.’ Scouter wrote that ‘all who knew him feel proud of his wonderful efforts, but regretted to learn that he is in hospital. We trust that he will soon be well again and back to his old form’.

And indeed he was. On 11 September, Bill rejoined 79 Squadron at Pembrey, South Wales and he was in for a much quieter time than recorded in that letter of 8 July. The squadron carried out various patrols over the next few days, but no action.

 

 

Australia's Few. 9 September 1940

After Des Sheen’s second bale-out on 5 September, he was initially taken to a ‘wizard hospital’, a private mansion which had been converted, and which already housed two others from 72 Squadron. As London was blitzed, Des, in his hospital bed, had been witness to:

‘lots of scrapping lately and to see the size of the Jerry formations from the ground even has been unbelievable...hundreds in each. Have also seen quite a few go down as some of the fighters were right over our head and one Jerry jettisoned his bombs which fell about 50 yards from our hospital Up till when we left they were still unexploded’.

Despite the aerial shows, he had a ‘grand time’ for a few days but on 9 September were moved to an ‘awful’ hospital just outside London where he had even more of a grandstand view of the blitz:

‘We get it every night now too and last night heard nothing but machines, bombers and AA fire all night. I think the invasion is about to start but luckily after an incredible spell of too perfect weather clouds and rain have started to appear.’

It is interesting to speculate if Desmond’s experiences of air raids while he was hospitalised inspired his father to develop in 1942 a new, inexpensive type of air raid shelter, especially designed to provide safer and more comfortable protection for hospital patients. He considered it ‘ridiculous to think of putting people who are seriously ill in open trenches’.

 

A later life photo of Des and his parents

Australia's Few. 8 September 1940

7 September had been an incredibly busy day for Fighter Command in the London area but Ken Holland was having a quietish time at Warmwell, though he was on duty. On the day London was blitzed, Ken and 152 Squadron’s Green Section were out on a patrol. Ken was Green Three. Two of his section chased a Dornier 215 over Lyme Regis but Ken ‘saw nowt’. By the 8th it was clear London had had a major battering and fears of an invasion were reinvigorated. Ken recorded a ‘Big Invasion flap’ but, even so, there was ‘no flying all day’ for him.

Australia's Few. 7 September 1940

And so, the Luftwaffe turned its attention from the airfields and attempted to strike at the heart of the British: London. 7 September 1940 was the opening of the Blitz. 

234 Squadron was ordered to patrol Kenley and Biggin Hill. They took off at 17.35 p.m. When they arrived at the patrol position they encountered a large number of enemy aircraft, so many that no one at the time could hazard a guess as to how many. It was just recorded as ‘large formations’ and an ‘unascertained number’. 234’s pilots participated in furious fighting against overwhelming numbers between 18.00 and 18.30 p.m.

Pat, again flying Spitfire X4009, lined up a Dornier that was straggling behind and beneath the main formation. He made a successful quarter attack on it. Large pieces flew off and the wing crumpled. The stricken Dornier plunged into a fatal spin. And so too did Pat’s Spitfire. X4009 had lost about a third of a wing. It crashed at Darks Farm, Bessels Green; Pat fell in a nearby garden.

Pat was credited with the destruction of the Dornier. His final personal tally was now two third shares, one third share unconfirmed, one 1/2 share, and 14 destroyed and one probably destroyed. With all the part shares, he was well over a triple ace and Australia’s highest scoring Battle of Britain pilot.

It was a bad day for 234 Squadron. As well as losing Pat, they also lost Squadron Leader O’Brien. They had a healthy scoreboard but the loss of these two men was devastating. Four days later 234 Squadron returned to St Eval to rest and reform.

 

 

Vale good and brave men.

 

Australia's Few. 6 September 1940

Pat was at dispersal bright and early on 6 September. His first outing, commencing at 8.40 a.m., was a two hour patrol of Brooklands. B Flight, led by Pat in Spitfire X4009, had been on patrol for about 50 minutes when, at about 9.30 a.m., they encountered about 25 Me 109s in the Dover area. Pat’s combat report was short and sharp:

‘Saw enemy fighters below. Attacked with section astern and fired a long burst into one Me 109 which crashed on landing approx. five miles west of Littlestone. I climbed back to 10,000 feet and intercepted five Me 109s escorting a Me 110 across Dover. This Me 110 had one engine on fire and just after passing Dover the crew baled out and the 110 crashed into the sea. I attacked the rear 109 and had to fire a long burst into it as three 109s dived at me from the beam. I emptied all my ammunition into this 109 and the oil tanks burst, and my own aircraft’s windscreen and mainplane were covered in oil. I broke away and attacked the three 109s but had no ammunition and could not follow the first 109 I attacked which was losing height and smoking badly.’

Yet again, Pat had gone in close and hard; his combat report noted that he had fired from 150 yards closing to 50 yards. Close enough again for his own Spit to be covered in oil. His innate aggression too was apparent, in that he initially attempted to attack despite his lack of ammunition. A brave man, and a skilled shot who was credited with one Me 109 destroyed and one Me 109 probable. His personal tally was now two third shares, one third share unconfirmed, one 1/2 share, and 13 destroyed and one probably destroyed.