Chapter 8 Sunbathers; The bomb dropper; A page in history

THE BOMB DROPPER

0UR bombing instructor had for some time been training us in aerial bombing and the announcement that we were at last to perform the actual task of dropping bombs was received with mixed feelings.

Anyone who had seen the massive and intricate formulae of bombing theory, second only, I am positive, to the mathematical miracles which evolved the atomic bomb, would have had just cause to wonder how a bomb even hit the ground, such was the multiplicity of factors ruling a bomb's behaviour. There were times we believed that if the highly technical diagrams of what a bomb wouldn't do if this were that and so forth, were true, then surely the law of gravity itself must become confused and fail to operate.

In addition to the bombing theory, the bomb-sight had added to our worries. It was an instrument which, when operated by a skilful bombardier, could undoubtedly place the bomb on the spot, but to the trainee it was apparent that Nature's issue of eight fingers and two thumbs was totally inadequate for the task of operating the innumerable knobs and scales. With the bomb-sight came the usual addendum of "don'ts" and "do's", which to us, still bombing on paper, appeared extremely unnecessary and unbearable. To add to this "gen", we had fingered different bombs and learnt the bombing patter (method of communication between pilot and bomb aimer). Our instructor eventually came to the conclusion that it was possible that we could place a bomb within at least a mile or two of the target.

It was a fine morning when we walked out to the aircraft to put theory to the test. The met. officer had reported that the temperature at the altitude from which we were to bomb was mild and that conditions in general were conducive to good bombing.

The practice range was situated several miles away. The targets consisted of large triangular sand beds. Each bomb aimer was allotted a target. To assist him in estimating the accuracy of his work, a post had been placed a known distance from each target. Many yards away was Range Control which, by taking bearings on the bomb bursts, sent an accurate report back to the base of the trainees' performance.

There were several tasks to perform before taking off for the range, and though experience later dulled the edge of their difficulties, they caught many of us off our balance. After lugging the bombs in a carrier to the aircraft, it was necessary to test the bomb-release mechanism. Trouble gremlins here experienced a field-day. One over-anxious trainee committed the error of placing his bombs in the racks before performing this duty. When it later occurred to him that he had overlooked this test, he was blissfully unaware of his former actions.

He tested the mechanism. A resulting- clatter beneath the aircraft puzzled him. He made an investigation. With the safety pins automatically ejected his bombs were rolling about the tarmac. In his shock, shared by a few onlookers, and his hastiness to remedy the situation, he walked into a propeller, which fortunately for his earthly career was stationary, but had the effect of knocking him over backwards.

From a height of several thousand feet difficulty in finding the target amongst the patchwork nature of the earth below provided anxious moments for those of us who had pictured ourselves pounding the target. It became increasingly evident that there was more to this gentle art than pressing a button and saying "Bombs away." Our pilots, who knew the location from experience, flew back and forth, no doubt bewailing the fact that now the war must surely be lost, while frozen bomb aimers lay huddled over their sights, straining their eyes on the earth below.

One worthy in this predicament suddenly announced to a patience-strained pilot that he had found the target. Immediate instructions were given and after a few "left left steadies" and so on, the pilot heard him yell "Bomb gone." They did several more runs, the novice bombardier announcing proudly that his bombing was extremely accurate. It was-in a fashion. The "target" he had seen and was bombing was Range Control. They must have had a healthy respect for his accuracy after that.

In my case the fates had been kind and I had observed my allotted target immediately on approaching the range. We commenced a run over the objective and, watching it drift in the cross pointers of the sight, I pressed the master switch (feeling very hopeful about the prospects of a direct hit) and leaned forward to observe the bomb falling. It didn't. Disgustedly I announced to the pilot that the bomb had "hung up" and we commenced another run. Again no bomb fell. After a repeat of this performance, the pilot made discreet inquiries as to whether I had opened the bomb doors yet. I hadn't! My bombs were rolling about in the bomb bay!

Bombs were misleading. Watching the falling bomb, which appeared as if it were travelling parallel to the ground, the direction could easily be ascertained, but the probable point of impact was misleading.

Many a trainee watched with satisfaction as he saw his bomb streaking towards the target, only to be chagrined as it passed directly over the objective and landed some hundreds of yards away.

The results of our efforts were awaiting us from Range Control when we landed. Bombs that we were positive had landed near the target were marked on the extensive charts as being several hundreds of yards away-a fact that made one wonder whether his eyesight was functioning properly. One trainee, however, found that the settings on his bombsight had been astray before he took off, yet his bombing results were excellent. This occurrence at times almost made us despair of the technical diagrams and formulae.

Our instructor told us we would soon get the hang of it.

We eventually did.

GEOFFREY A. WRIGHT, R.A.A.F.

A PAGE IN HISTORY
	THE high opinion of No. 1 Squadron, Australian Flying Corps, held by the High Command in Palestine in 1918 was expressed in a significant fashion. When in August one of the giant new Handley-Page bombers arrived in Palestine-the only one of its type then in the East-it was allotted to the Australian Squadron. The pilot who flew it was Captain Ross Smith and he subsequently stated that it was largely because of the experience gained in piloting this aircraft that he was induced a year later to embark upon the first flight from England to Australia.
With its wing span of 100 feet, speed of 95 miles per hour and carrying three machine guns, it was, by the standards of its day, a formidable fighting machine. Employed mainly for night bombing, one of its subsidiary tasks was to move the petrol and spares needed by the fighter aircraft detached to assist the Arabs under Colonel T. E. Lawrence during the last few weeks of the war in this theatre. In one of his books Lawrence described his journey with the Emir Peisal to Um el Surab to see the aircraft arrive. They were delayed and, while still some distance from the landing field, a single Arab approached, running swiftly. He altered his course to pass near them and yelled as he went by that he had seen the biggest aeroplane in the world. At Um el Surab they found the Handley-Page standing majestically on the improvised airfield. Around the big aircraft was a circle of admiring and excited Arabs saying, Lawrence recorded, "Indeed and at last they have sent us THE aeroplane of which these things were foals." "These, things" were the Australian fighter aircraft parked nearby. The incident is illustrated in the picture reproduced above. It was painted from a description given by Ross Smith to the artist who served in Palestine. A.W.M.