Australia's Few. 10 August 1940

After his first flight in Hurricane P3528 on 4 August 1940, John Crossman flew almost every day at Sutton Bridge. Intent on completing the course as soon as possible so he could ‘go back to my squadron and finally get into the war’ he systematically worked his way through the set flying exercises which ‘puts the finishing touches to us’, and notched up five hours and fifty minutes in the Hurricane between 4–9 August. Although ‘every day we practise combat fighting’ they only used cine-camera guns. It wasn’t until 10 August that John ‘fired all eight guns for the first time, it was quite a thrill’.

 

Australia's Few. 3 August 1940

After hearing the less than delightful news that he was being sent to 6 OTU Sutton Bridge, John Crossman sold his Austin, bought a second hand Ford and was off first thing in the morning of 3 August. He almost didn’t make it to Sutton Bridge, however. He was going down a hill at about 65 miles per hour when he heard a ‘helluva clatter’. The Ford had been running without oil for some time and was now paying the consequences. He crawled along at 20 miles per hour and took hours to get to his new station. He wasn’t impressed with his new quarters. ‘We live in wooden buildings and have no hot and cold in our rooms which is most annoying’. In his opinion, Sutton Bridge was an ‘awful hole’ and to make things worse, the food was bad. But at least he could get stuck into Hurricane training and, when he stopped whining about the food, he spent 50 minutes in the air in Hurricane P3528.

 

Not P3528 but a model of John's Hurricane on 46 Squadron.

Australia's Few. 30 July 1940

Busy as Stuart Walch and Pat Hughes had been, it is almost unbelievable to note that John Crossman still had not flown in combat.

 

At Biggin Hill, he had been ‘buzzing around a lot lately in the “Maggie” and now that I’m used to it find it a very good kite to fly and quite the acrobat’. He was pleased to note that Queenslander John Pain, ‘one of the original Aussies’ with whom he had sailed to England and trained with, had been posted to 32 Squadron after operational training. But John was not going to get a chance to spend much time with ‘Tiger’ Pain. On 30 July 1940 ‘I learned today that I am to go away for five weeks to an OTU which is a helluva nuisance as I am just nicely settled here now.’ Which was a polite way of saving that his hopes of getting into action any time soon had been dashed.

 

 

Australia's Few. 25 July 1940

John Crossman finally had his chance at flying a Hurricane on 25 July. He did 40 minutes dual in the Magister and after lunch was allowed to take his first flight in a Hurricane. ‘It certainly is an aeroplane and a half and its power and speed scares me almost.’ Life was looking brighter. John flew as often as he could and his confidence on the Hurricane increased. ‘They sure are swell planes’.

 

A model of John's Hurricane from 46 Squadron.

Australia's Few. 24 July 1940

John Crossman was getting impatient. For the last week, 32 Squadron had been flying ops every day and it had been all hands on deck, except for John. He hadn’t even flown the Master, let alone a Hurricane. ‘There always seems to be a hitch in the proceedings’. Yet again, he acted as the squadron ferry pilot and took a fitter to do a job at Kenley. After that, he ‘did absolutely nothing all day and in the evening wrote seven letters.’

 

 

One of those seven letters was probably to his fiancée Pat Foley. 

Australia's Few. 22 July 2013

John Crossman’s R/T course at Uxbridge was over and he returned to Biggin Hill. While he was away, ‘our chaps were the six that fought 80 Huns and got seven of them’. Sadly, 32 Squadron had not come off unscathed, losing Sub Lieutenant Bulmer, ‘a very decent young chap from FAA serving with us’. Another was shot down and recovering in hospital and the CO gained ‘a few cuts in the face and a black eye when he crashed’.

 

John was proud of his new friends and hoped that soon join them in battle. Until then, however, he was duty pilot, controlling the night flying and in charge of laying out the flare path.

 

 

Australia's Few. 19 July 1940

32 Squadron was constantly in the air during the early days of the Battle of Britain. Not that John Crossman was getting any share of the action. He was still considered to be under training and yet no one had time to devote to a green pilot. As his new friends carried out sortie after sortie, and his hoped-for first flight in a Hurricane did not eventuate, John began to ‘feel just a little out of things’.He flew the Magister a few times and acted as ferry pilot for those coming or leaving the station. On 19 July, he was sent to Uxbridge for a three day R/T course. ‘Was very annoyed’.

 

Caring for John Crossman's grave

Just heard from my friend in Chalfont St Giles.

He told me that the working party had a successful day's work in the churchyard the other day and all graves, including John Crossman's, are looking much neater. The grass had grown rather long because, my friend seems to remember, the previous monthly working party had been rained off.  This time, despite the forecast of rain, it remained dry but it was not easy work.

Sitting here so far away in Australia, it is wonderful to know that John Crossman and others who, like him, fell in war are being cared for so well by the dedicated men and women of Chalfont St Giles.

Extract from Australian Eagles: Australians in the Battle of Britain

John was the first man killed in the Second World War to be buried in Chalfont St Giles and the village grieved his loss as if he were one of their own. Indeed, he was buried as one of their own: ‘Ordinarily’ wrote Ann Brawn [John Crossman's aunt] to her brother, ‘it would have cost £50 to bury him but our rector let him be laid at ease as one of us’. Many villagers sent flowers and attended the funeral. John’s aunts sent a cross of bronze chrysanthemums and ordered another of laurel leaves, white chrysanthemums and red carnations on behalf of John’s parents, and sprays of Michaelmas daisies from his sister Joan and Patricia Foley. The young pilot was buried in the local churchyard beside his aunt, Florence Crossman, as Ann thought her brother would rather his son be ‘laid here than among strangers’.

John's family made the right decision in burying him in Chalfont St Giles. He is still considered 'one of us'.

(John's grave before it's regular spruce up, when the poppies are in bloom)

http://www.kristenalexander.com.au/books/australian-eagles

John Crossman at Cranwell, April 1940

April 1940: John Crossman had recently arrived at Cranwell for his advanced training. On 17 April he finally went solo on the Hart, a more powerful and manoeuvrable machine than the Tiger Moths he had trained on at Ansty.

 

 

(John Crossman and  the Australians on his training course at Cranwell, April 1940. John is on the far right hand end of the front row, sitting.)

 ‘Went solo this morning at last, thank the Lord. Beat the wind to it and had a good thirty minutes solo. It was good. To be alone once more. I must say Harts are a nuisance what with cheese cutters and winding the radiator in and out. There are so many gadgets to look after and a fellow has to be very much on the ‘que vive’ all the time especially as there are so many planes about to look for and keep away from.’

 He went solo again on the 18th and felt he was really coming along: ‘went up to 8000 and tried up some aerobatics. These Harts handle very well’. He was pleased that his training was advancing, but so was the war and he was frustrated that he was still a long way from it: ‘The navy is putting up a good show and has sunk about ten German warships. I wish I could get into it and do my bit, we are all longing to have a go at them.’

 

 

 John Crossman is one of the Australian pilots featured in Australian Eagles. Australians in the Battle of Britain, Barrallier Books, July 2013. Reserve your copy now of the high quality production, limited edition of 500 signed and numbered copies.  

 

 

John Crossman's Grave

My correspondent in Chalfont St Giles just sent through a very moving note about John Crossman:

'This afternoon, I looked after my youngest grandchildren [10 and 7] while they played by the stream flowing by the back of the churchyard. After that adventure ended without mishap, they decided they would like to visit Grandma's plaque in the churchyard. They were also interested in the war graves [their great-grandfather had been killed in WW2] so we looked at a couple of graves, including that of John Crossman, which has a small photo of him on the grave. The photograph wrapped in thin plastic sent with the wreath from Forest Row was not very waterproof, so a friend of mine used a copy of the formal photo you sent me to produce a replacement, with name added in small print, which he encapsulated and placed on John Crossman's grave. I explained to the children that John's story would be in your book and they were impressed when I showed them the same photograph in your flyer.'

John Crossman no longer has family living in Chalfont St Giles, where he is buried. His grave is now tended by the members of the parish church. It is wonderful to know that he is still remembered, and a younger generation are now aware of their links to Australia and the Battle of Britain.

 

 

John Crossman: 7 April 1940

On 7 April 1940, just days before the conclusion of his training at 9 EFTS Ansty, John Crossman had heard a rumour that he might be ejected from his training course. He endured a few days of heartache and worry as he faced an uncertain future.

He confided to his diary that:

Have decided that should I be kicked out I will go to China and join their air force if it is humanly possible. I could never stay on the ground now, flying is in my blood and I couldn’t go home and face my people after that. I do think some mistake must have been made and will be very pleased when we can get it all ironed out. One thing is certain I won’t leave the service without a fight. I like it too much to want to leave.  

It was false, and a few days later John was heading to Cranwell for his advanced training.

 

 

 

What's the connection between John Crossman and McNamara VC?

On 20 March 1917, Frank Hubert McNamara carried out a daring rescue under enemy fire that resulted in award of the Victoria Cross. Twelve months later, John Dallas Crossman was born. What do these men have in common? Read on.

 

 

John Dallas Crossman

John Dallas Crossman was born in North Queensland, Australia exactly 95 years ago on 20 March 1918. His father Ted, who hailed from Taunton in Somerset, England, had come to Australia in 1912.

John was a great swimmer, enjoyed music, collected stamps and was a voracious reader but his greatest enthusiasm was for flying. He was mad about aeroplanes from the time he could walk and whenever he could, he headed out to the local aerodrome & loved making plane models. Soon, he would turn to the real thing

Handsome young John was firmly set upon a career in the air force. After a grand farewell from his family, friends and fiancée Patricia Foley he set sail for England. While at sea, war was declared and while some cheered at the news but John’s reaction was subdued and resigned: ‘Should this last any time it seems unlikely that I’ll ever see home again. Still I expect it can’t be helped. A fellow has to realise that.’ And as for the decision to go to war, ‘it is a pretty filthy business altogether but really the only thing that England could do’.

Having arrived in England John joined the RAF on 12 August 1939. His proudest moment was the day he received his wings believing that in flying for Britain he would be fulfilling his destiny.

John’s first action was on the September 14th. He admitted to being scared sick and panicky when the squadron attacked a formation of about 60 Messerschmitt 109s at 20,000 feet. The fear was worse just before he fired, but he pushed it aside and ‘got one decent burst into a 109 but was unable to see if I got him as [I] had to get out of the way of a few more’.

John was in the air again on the 15th, the day ever since commemorated as Battle of Britain Day. He ‘ran into hundreds of Jerry kites at about 19,000 feet. Three of us were going round to do head-on attacks on some Dorniers. I lost speed, spun down 6000 feet, came out near 20 more escorted by about 60 Messerschmitt 109s. Three of the 109s came after me. I evaded then came round [and] did a stern attack on the Dorniers. Put all my shots into one of them, set his port engine on fire and saw him go down’

John’s nerves quickly passed. As September advanced he was in the air two or even three times a day. With a zest for life and a bright sense of humour, he made friends easily. When he could grasp a few hours respite he spent time with them in an effort to forget the serious business of fighting. His family and fiancée were also clearly in his constant thoughts as John’s cabin walls were plastered with their photos. A large portrait of Patricia took pride of place in his display.

By the time John took to the air in the afternoon of 30 September 1940, he had flown 18 sorties. At about 1.30 p.m., 46 Squadron encountered a gaggle of Messerschmitt 109s and his Hurricane was hit. John Dallas Crossman was only 22 years old when he died in the Battle of Britain.

 

 

Frank Hubert McNamara

The only Australian Great War airman to receive the Victorian Cross was Frank Hubert McNamara and, interestingly, he has a connection to John Crossman. On 20 March 1917, exactly one year before John’s birth, McNamara and Alfred Ellis, flying single-seated Martinsydes, escorted by Peter Drummond and new pilot Doug Rutherford in BE2cs, were tasked with bombing a section of Turkish railway near Wadi el Hesi. McNamara dropped his bombs over a train but the last exploded as it left the racks. His Martinsyde was caught in the blast and metal fragments cut through the seat into his buttocks. He was dazed, bleeding and in pain so decided to return to base but he saw that Rutherford had force-landed and the Turkish cavalry were fast approaching. McNamara dived through enemy ground fire to land about 200 yards from Rutherford who was attempting to destroy his BE2c. Rutherford stopped when he saw McNamara, dashed to the Martinsyde and climbed onto its wing.

 

McNamara tried to take off but the aircraft could not take Rutherford’s weight and veered to the left. McNamara’s right leg was next to useless and did not have enough strength to operate the rudder to align the Martinsyde and it lurched into a gully. McNamara and Rutherford pulled themselves from the wreck just before the petrol tank exploded. The Turks were almost upon them and firing as Rutherford helped the wounded McNamara to the BE2c which, although damaged during its forced-landing, looked as if it could fly. Ellis and Drummond arrived and tried to distract the advancing Turks with machine-gun fire while Rutherford helped the still bleeding McNamara into the pilot’s seat. While McNamara fired at the fast approaching Turks, Rutherford swung the propeller. The engine started and he climbed in. Ninety minutes later, they were back at base.

McNamara’s actions exemplified self-sacrifice, bravery and devotion to duty and he was lauded as a hero when he returned to Australia. His rescue of Rutherford was not branded as chivalrous at the time—although he was publicised as a gallant hero—but it was belatedly recognised as a chivalrous act when Septimus Power’s 1924 painting ‘How the Victoria Cross was won in Palestine’ was included in the 1933 publication Australian Chivalry.

McNamara joined the RAAF on its formation in 1921 and served until 1946 when he retired with honorary rank of Air Vice-Marshal. The whole of his service during the Second World War was spent outside Australia, initially as as representative for the RAAF in London until 1942, then on loan to the RAF while commanding British forces in Aden until 1945.

So, what is the connection between John Crossman and Frank McNamara? Well, when Edward Wimperis, who painted John’s crash site on the day he died in battle, tried to track down the Crossman family so he could give them the paintings, he contacted McNamara at Australia House who agreed to forward the paintings to Australia. He told Wimperis on 29 October 1940 that ‘your kind and spontaneous action on the occasion of the death of this gallant young officer is something that moves me with admiration. I know too that the Air Ministry appreciates what you have done. Above all, I am sure that the relatives of the late officer will be grateful’. They were. And are.

 

 

'The Journey's End. 30th September 1940' by Edmund Wimperis, 1940.

All he Wanted to do was Fly. John Dallas Crossman

Good news:

 I have heard from the editor of Wings, the Journal of the RAAF Association and he will be publishing All he Wanted to do was Fly. John Dallas Crossman: Australian Battle of Britain Pilot. Part Two in the June edition.

 

Here is a wonderful photo of a model of Hurricane V6748 which John was flying on his 19th - and last - operational sortie. It was made by John's great nephew.