Tea Parties; Spits Up North; South west Pacific; Scramble

Catalina Base by B31154

TEA PARTIES

Through all these battles, R.A.A.F. Bostons have been in at the kill, doing a dangerous, daring, and punishing job. Much of the success of the Bostons is due to the former commanding officer, Wing-Commander K. Hampshire, D.S.O., who saw them through much of the Papuan campaign before leaving to take command of a Mosquito squadron in Britain. Hampshire commanded a team. That is the best definition of his unit, which began with a fine reputation. Some were seasoned pilots who had flown Boston Havocs with the R.A.F. on intrusions, and several have won D.F.Cs in New Guinea.

One of the unit's first actions in the New Guinea area was on November 30, 1942,when Flight-Lieutenant C. Sladen, with Flying Officer F. Chester and Sergeant A. Smylie, attacked enemy destroyers which were attempting to reinforce their units in the Buna area with troops and supplies. Destroyers taking evasive action with blazing ack-ack guns are difficult and dangerous targets. This Boston made two near misses on a destroyer and strafed and bombed supply dumps along the seafront. It was the forerunner of many such tea parties near Buna for R.A.A.F. Bostons and Beaufighters and American A20S, Marauders (B26s), Mitchells (B25s), and Airacobra fighters.

Perhaps the most dramatic of these assaults was on December 14, when the full strength of the Allied air forces in medium and attack aircraft, with fighter cover, was loosed in a day-long, onslaught in which one hundred and thirty-four sorties were made, the aircraft pouring a hundred and fifty thousand rounds of cannon and machine-gun fire and dropping fifty-four tons of bombs on the enemy. It was a furious action, and Allied planes destroyed eleven Zeros, probably destroyed two and damaged two. Ninety-six of the sorties were against barges, stores, and troops.

The action began at dawn and the enemy, who had failed in his desperate attempt to complete disembarkation in darkness, was caught "with his pants down". The warships were speeding away, leaving the sea behind them dotted with barges and troops, and fuel drums and stores heaped on the beach or on improvised rafts, when Hampshire with Sergeants J. Barden and D. Fleming as crew, dived through ack-ack which was spread over an area about five miles square, and dropped two bombs within ten yards of a destroyer. Pulling out after his bombing run, he strafed troops in the water, and barges and store dumps at the water's edge.

As Hampshire turned back across the mountains for base to rearm, refuel and bomb-up again, Flying Fortresses were pounding the fleeing destroyers. They scored at least one direct hit and several near misses. Beaufighters, A20s,Mitchells, and Marauders maintained a shuttle attack throughout the day. A large supply dump was demolished by bombs from the Bostons, while the American A20s took terrible toll with parachute fragmentation bombs, a new weapon which the Commander-in-Chief of the U.S. Army Air Corps, General Arnold, described as "terrifying". One flight of A20s alone made twenty-four strafing passes over the landing area and thirteen hours after the first sortie began, the last R.A.A.F. Boston returned to its base.

Second-in-command of the Bostons was Squadron-Leader C. Learmonth, D.F.C. Learmonth, in an attack against enemy forces holding the air strip at Buna, was caught by ack-ack fire and flew back to his base with his starboard aileron controls shot away, port tyre punctured, elevators damaged, and much of the fuselage fabric blown away. Ground staff men counted seventy-three holes in the Boston. Learmonth's gunners were Sergeant H. Burn, who served with the R.A.A.F. in Malaya, and Sergeant F. Price.

Among the intruder pilots who flew in Bostons after service in England were Flying-Officer P. Mullens, D.F.C., who later lost his life in a crash; Flying-Officer V. Hunt, D.F.C.; and Flying-Officer H. Craig. Sladen did a fine piece of work early in operations in New Guinea when his own aircraft, flown by another pilot, was forced-landed in very rough country. Sladen was determined to get it out and back to base. With his crew and a ground party he was flown to the landing ground nearest the crash. Carrying tools and all necessary equipment, the party made its way through the jungle, tramping for two days before they reached the Boston. At first there seemed little prospect of getting it off the ground, although it was not seriously damaged. They got rid of everything not essential for flight and after a "hairy" takeoff, Sladen brought it back to base.

The Boston crews knew Salamaua and Lae only too well. They made repeated low-level attacks on both, always through a heavy barrage. Inevitably, they paid toll for these daring assaults. One of the best crews -Flight-Lieutenant W. Newton, later to be awarded the V.C., Sergeant Lyon and Sergeant Eastwood-were shot down in an attack on Salamaua. In this attack, which was particularly successful, the enemy's positions on the isthmus were heavily battered and left in flames. Flying-Officer R. Fethers (with Flight-Sergeant McLeish. and Sergeant Newnan) made a bombing run over the plantation area along the foreshore at so low a level the Boston's starboard engine struck the a coconut palm. In the excitement of :dodging the ack-ack and the coconuts Fethers did not  release his bombs. Not to be bested he "went bush" until the ack-ack had subsided, and then came in again at tree-top height, and placed his bombs precisely on the target.

In one attack on Lae, the fight was so poor that Mullens could not line up his target effectively, so he withheld his bombs and made a second run. He and his crew-Flight Sergeant A. Collins and Sergeant A. Hamilton-ran the gauntlet of heavy and accurate fire from the ground. The Boston was holed in several places and one shell passed within six inches of Hamilton, struck the instrument panel, and was deflected only a few inches from the pilot. The shattered metal from the panel wounded Mullens in the face and right hand, but despite loss of blood, he flew home, landed safely, and was ready for duty next day.

Hunt, with Sergeants J. Grant and B. Owen as crew, also made many hazardous and brilliant sorties. In the attack on enemy landing parties near Buna on December 14, his aircraft had its elevator controls and air speed indicator shot away but he got home safely. Another brilliant pilot, Flying-Officer (now Flight-Lieutenant) R. Wines, D.F.C., was intercepted by an enemy fighter after flying through the usual "hot" ack-ack over Lae. His hydraulic system was put out of service and the undercarriage could not be lowered. He made a belly landing on rough ground and he and his gunners escaped with cuts and bruises, though the aircraft was only fit for conversion to spares.

A notable flight leader was Squadron Leader E. E. V. Dillon, A.F.C., whose regular crew members were Flight-Sergeant G. Laverick, who had also seen service in Malaya. and Sergeant F. Jacobsen. Dillon took part in many of the major strikes and came through his operational tour with a fine record for leadership and flying skill.

The reputation of the R.A.A.F. Boston units with all who knew their work, and that included many men of the Allied ground forces in support of whom the Bostons made many stirring attacks, was the highest. The Boston crews, with their R.A.A.F. comrades flying Beaufighters, and American crews in A20s and Mitchells, hammered the enemy's positions and lines of communication so that they became untenable. The route from

Mubo to Salamaua and Lae was along narrow valleys walled by mountains which, for the most part, were above three thousand feet high. Often it was impossible for two aircraft to fly abreast, and each sortie was a fantastic switchback. The Boston boys came to know this wild terrain intimately. It presented many natural hazards, not the least of which was cloud. The names Buibaiming, Lalibu, Waipali, Guadagasal, Mubo, and Komiatum assumed great tactical importance and, because of the skill and courage of Allied air and ground forces, great historic importance.

In the months of fighting during which the enemy was forced steadily back from Wau through Mubo, into, and eventually out of, Salamaua and Lae, these attack bombers flew almost continuously, and their part in the ejection of the Japanese has been of great value in the whole scheme of Allied operations in the South-west Pacific area.

SPITS. UP NORTH

There was nothing grim, nothing threatening, nothing aggressive, about the slender, beautifully streamlined little killers. To men who were accustomed to the chunkier outlines of American fighters, the Spitfire was more like a sports aircraft designed for the amusement of some wealthy sportsman. Perhaps it is because of this impression that the Spitfire has caught the imagination as no other single machine has done in this war.

Since the day when the member of the refuelling-party remarked that the Spitfires "looked like toys" many other people have made the same observation; but the Japanese have learned, to their great cost, that there is nothing toy-like in the way Spitfires attack and destroy their marauding formations.

In their encounters with Jap fighters and bombers in the north-western area Spitfires have more than upheld the reputation they earned overseas. For the men who fly them, their fights have been all too few. Because of them the Jap is never eager to raid the Darwin area, so the Spitfires must play a waiting game. Between March 2, 1943, when the Jap first met Spitfires over Darwin, and the end of August 1943, the Spitfires were engaged in only eleven fights against organized Japanese raids. Two of these encounters were at Millingimbi where small forces have interfered with enemy attempts to blast the remote R.A.A.F. base at the north-eastern end of Arnhem Land. 

In these eleven engagements the Spitfires destroyed fifty-eight, probably destroyed sixteen, and damaged forty-one Japanese aircraft. Eight reconnaissance aircraft also were destroyed during that period. On one day when four reconnaissance aircraft came over the north-western area at different times, Spitfires destroyed all of them. These Jap losses bring the score of enemy aircraft destroyed or damaged to one hundred and twenty-three. These results were not obtained without loss but comparative figures show that the successes achieved by the Spitfires in the north-west equalled those of the Spitfires in the Battle of Britain.

All Spitfire claims are assessed in accordance with R.A.F. standards. These standards are very severe but they ensure that enemy losses are not exaggerated. Before an enemy aircraft can be claimed as destroyed it must be seen to crash on the ground, fall into the sea, or explode in the air. An enemy which is obviously hit and is last seen smoking or burning and rapidly losing height is classed as probably destroyed, while if pieces are seen flying off the aircraft, it is only classed as damaged. An example of the severity of assessments is contained in the report of an engagement with a Japanese reconnaissance aircraft. 

This floatplane was last seen by two pilots with one float burned away and the port side of the fuselage on fire. Some three hundred miles of sea lay between the enemy and his base, but it was only assessed as "probably destroyed". On another occasion, a Zero which fled from battle with half the tall plane i4waving in the breeze" was assessed as damaged. Spitfires are also equipped with camera guns which photograph the target when the gun button is pressed. The resulting pictures are of great value when checking pilots' claims after an engagement.

By the various means at its command, the RAY. has discovered that the method of assessing enemy losses is forty per cent conservative. Nazi aircraft have only the narrow waters of the English Channel to cross, or are engaged over their own country, while the Japs are faced by an over-water flight of more than three hundred and fifty miles before reaching their nearest base. If the R.A.F. method of assessment is forty per cent conservative where the enemy is quite close to his bases, the number of damaged Japanese aircraft which successfully make the long and dangerous journey across the Timor Sea must be very small indeed.

Good pilots are needed to make the most of highly efficient fighters like Spitfire-- and all the pilots who brought them to the North had plenty of flying experience. They were all good fliers, but few of them had been given the chance to prove themselves good fighters. Only about half a dozen of them had been blooded in battle. Numbers of them had made sweeps over enemy territory in Europe but
had not made contact with enemy fighters. Contrary to general belief it is not easy for fighter pilots to find fights, and it is not unusual for pilots to make many operational flights before getting a chance to meet the enemy in combat. All of them who lacked combat experience were guided and tutored by a nucleus of fighters who had been in some of the thickest fighting of the war.

Flying prominently with the Spitfires in the operations in North-western area Wing-Commander C. R. Caldwell, D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar. and Polish Cross of Valour, who is Australia's leading ace, and one of the outstanding fighter pilots of this war, had twenty and a half kills to his credit before he met the Japs. By August 1943 he had added seven more kills. Since he began flying fighters on operations, Caldwell has flown 505 operational hours in fighters, and has made 321 operational sorties against the enemy which have included 81 aerial combats and 56 strafing operations.

Other experienced fighters included Flying Officer A. P. Goldsmith, D.F.C., D.F.M., and Flying-Officer J. A. Bisley, both of whom were in the thick of the fighting over Malta and are known in the wing as the "Malta twins". Goldsmith had shot down twelve and a half enemy aircraft before coming to Australia and Bisley had destroyed six. By the end of last August, they had brought their scores to fifteen and a half and seven respectively. Three others completed the core of experienced fighters around which the Spitfire force was formed. They were Squadron-Leader Thorold-Smith, D.F.C., Flight-Lieutenant P. H. Watson, D.F.C., and Flight-Lieutenant R. W. Foster, D.F.C., who is a member of an R.A.F. squadron. Squadron-Leader Thorold-Smith was lost in combat soon after the wing went into action.

An R.A.F. squadron which has been in the North-western area during the entire period of Spitfire operations there took part in the Battle of Britain and its history dates back to the days of World War One. The R.A.F. filers quickly adapted themselves to tropical conditions, and have fought brilliantly in the North-western area. This squadron is leading scorer and Foster, one of its members, was the first Spitfire pilot to be decorated while fighting in the Darwin area. He had destroyed eight  and a half enemy aircraft when he was awarded the D.F.C.

R.A.A.F. squadrons in the area also distinguished themselves in England before coming to Australia to fight the Jap.

English and Australian Spitfire pilots work well together, and there is a lively and good natured rivalry between the R.A.F. and R.A.A.F. squadrons. On one occasion, after a pilot in an Australian squadron failed to shoot down a Japanese reconnaissance aircraft, the squadron received a bow and arrow from the English squadron. A note attached to the gift suggested that the bow and arrow might be a weapon more appropriate to the Australian pilots' skill. A few weeks afterwards, this Australian squadron shot down three reconnaissance aircraft in one day and the fourth aircraft to be shot down for the day was also bagged by an Australian. Later the same day, a lone Spitfire flew over the strip occupied by the English squadron and the bow and arrow were dropped. The note attached read: "Thanks very much. Suggest you use this next time."

The nucleus of experienced pilots, wise in the ways of war In the air, brought the squadron to a pitch of fighting efficiency which gave them the better of the Japs in all engagements; none had seen a Zero until he came to the North-western area. Long before Spitfires were fighting in the Pacific War the Zeros had proved themselves to be highly maneuverable and reasonably fast fighters flown by clever, well-trained pilots. It is believed that when the Jap discovered that he was matched against Spitfires he sent his most skilful pilots to fight against them. Not only were the Jap pilots good fliers, they were also good marksmen.

Spitfire pilots knew that they would have to and a new technique to fight Zeros. They were aware that the tactics employed against Nazi fighters might not be so effective against an aircraft which was more maneuverable than any in the European theatre. Our pilots had no false ideas about the invincibility of their aircraft. The Spitfire is the best fighter in the world, but unless you plan your tactics to combat the type of aircraft flown by the enemy, not even the best fighter can win. just as they outfought the Nazi fighters so did the Spitfires find ways to beat the Zeros.

Coming to the North-western area, the Spitfire squadrons were faced with more problems than outfighting the Japs. Truly that was their most important and urgent problem; but the tropics set difficulties which had not been encountered by Spitfires in any other war theatre. There were many who wondered if a fighter ostensibly designed and built to fight in cold climates would be suitable for tropical service. The magnificently built machines soon proved themselves capable of giving their best in the toughest tropical conditions.

Fighters in the North-western area operate from flying strips which hold many traps for the unwary flier. They are narrow gashes in the bushland, kept to a minimum width to make them difficult to detect from the air, and one of the initial "hoodoos" for the pilot is ,he feeling that the strip is not wide enough accommodate his landing. The trees seem 'be uncomfortably close, and he has the impression that he is squeezing his fighter between them. Actually the fighter strips are wide enough for two Spitfires to take off side by side. 

Because there is only one strip at many landing places, landings must often be made in a cross-wind and there is added hazard when the wind dies suddenly as the aircraft drops below the tree line. Adjustments to correct the effects of the cross-wind must be made in the split second in which the aircraft drops the twenty feet between the tree-tops and the strip. The sudden changes from the tropic heat at ground level to the freezing atmosphere of higher altitudes can also be a severe strain on man and machine.

But of all the problems which the fliers must face and solve, the greatest is boredom. The lot of a Spitfire pilot in the north is to play a waiting game. He sits in or near his readiness hut waiting for the magic cry of "Scramble" which sends him racing to his fighter and climbing swiftly to battle in the sky. The waiting goes on day after day, for the Jap is wary and seldom ventures within range of the Spitfires. Eleven fights in six months is poor diversion for fighter pilots who chafe for action from dawn to dusk for days on end. Waiting is a poor show, they say.

On other fronts, enemy bases are much closer than in the North-western area: they are close enough, indeed, for Spitfires to go visiting and so they make war on their own account. If the enemy won't visit them, the Spitfires play the role of Mahomet, and go to the enemy. They also carry out sweeps, they escort bombers, they shoot up motor transport and railway engines, they strafe enemy troop concentrations. None of these delights comes the way of Spitfire pilots at Darwin who sit in the sun all day and bemoan the poor show. Yet so keen are they that they are reluctant to take even a day away from the strip, lest it should be one of those rare occasions when the Jap has decided to make another attack on Darwin.

While they wait, torn between reluctance and comic apprehension they play cards, read, listen to talks given by the squadron intelligence officer, just doze in boredom or in madcap desperation play pranks on each other or any hapless soul who happens along. One morning after a night raid, a squadron armament officer was approached by a group of pilots gingerly carrying a tin. They showed it to him, said they had found it at the strip, and added that if he listened closely he would hear it tick. The armament officer listened for a second, hastily threw the tin into a slit trench and sent a hand grenade after it. When the smoke had cleared, and the armament officer inspected the suspected infernal machine, he found the remains of a battered cake tin and what had once been a very good alarm clock.

The pilots will tell you, while they wait for the Jap, that if they could get more combat practice they would shoot down more Japs every raid. Their theory seems to be home out by facts. During the three weeks between mid-June and early July 1943, the Japs made a sudden burst, during which they vainly tried to destroy our bombers which had been smashing their precious bases, In the sudden rush of combats, the Spitfires shot down more and more Japs on each successive raid until on the day of the fourth raid, a third of the entire enemy force was destroyed or damaged.

A number of pilots have parachuted to safety when their machines have been shot down during combat. Some of them have come down in the sea and were rescued by water craft or by amphibious aircraft. Others have landed in the bush. and have either walked home or been brought back by rescue parties. Baling out does not seem to be a momentous event in their young lives, and frequently they are in the air again soon after being rescued. One Spitfire pilot who was rescued from the sea by an amphibian tossed the pilot of the rescue aircraft for half of his dry clothes, won the pants, and flew the rescue craft back to base. Another pilot was rescued by a Tiger Moth after being in the bush for three days. His leave was due, so he went home to his father's station, helped with the mustering, and came back to fight more battles in the sky. The Spitfire pilots have the spirit which matches the superb aircraft they fly.

The Spitfires have a magnificent record of achievement in the North-western area, and the pilots have made the most of their limited opportunities to "prang" the Jap. Some idea of the magnitude of their task may be gained from the fact that while the Spitfires in the north must watch over tens of thousands of square miles of inhospitable bushland, and hundreds of miles of coastline, and carry the fight over an enormous expanse of ocean, a force of comparable size in the European theatre watches over only some thirty miles of coastline.

The Spitfire pilots are still waiting for the Jap to come and fight. They are still spending many hours wishing his bases were close enough for them to drop in on them in an unfriendly way. Their machines are ready beside the strips, sheltered from the tropic sun and rain by the scanty cover of the bushland. The ground crews fuss about them making sure they are ready for flight the moment someone cries "Scramble". Then they become live things, roaring off the "deck" in pairs, and climbing swiftly, surely, until they are lost in the infinite distances of the sky. Only occasionally can ground watchers hear the rattle of guns as they take death to Japanese who dare to come to Australia.

Outstanding scores of fighter pilots to the middle of October were:

South west Pacific

SCRAMBLE

The warm atmosphere induced tranquillity, d he sprawled in a deck chair in front of e pilots' room. Small eddies of dust rose as e scuffled his feet to get more comfortable.

Who was it gave him the blonde's phone number, now? Oh yes, Sergeant Phillips - he shot down four in one day and got an immediate award of the D.F.M. The squadron got fourteen confirmed that day. Quite a day! Perhaps there would be a repetition . . . he would use the experience to good effect. The Japs were good, but a little spectacular ... at times. His mind went back to that blonde. Ah well, he consoled himself, probably spent her date in an air-raid shelter, enriching her experience by twiddling her thumbs or knitting socks for soldiers.

Come to think of it, the squadron had produced some pretty good fighting types. 'Sailor' Milan had been flight-commander.

He was now Ace No. 1. Scott Malden, Orton and Boyd, had all been C.Os with very high scores-rewarded with D.S.Os and D.F.Cs. They had all learnt to snarl, and finished off fighting in this unit. Competition was strong, those days, but it had still managed sixth highest score for any fighter squadron of World War Two. If only the Nips would do something up here they could probably terminate the secondary front with the same underlying principle. What had we done in seven months? Only six real actions. Bob Foster had set the ball rolling with the first recco. machine. He pushed his score up to five and was recently awarded the D.F.C. 

The "corpulent twins", Leonard and Farries - got one each; young Tony Brooks, the baby - he'd had his first blood. "Trinidad" Lenegan had a crack too. His own score had increased five and a half, but then he had had more opportunity. It had worked out much better, really, because most of the scoring had been in ones and twos per person, which meant they had all whetted their appetites for more. The Nips had lost twenty-six aircraft, and whom had we lost? There were Flight-Sergeants Varney and Cooper. Peculiar, those two . . . if Varney could only have made the beach - awfully bad luck. You'd wonder how Cooper could have been lost in landing by parachute. Pilot Officer Wellman ... nobody heard anything about him after going into action. He must have been jumped. That's only three, and after all, sixteen of the Jap twenty-six had been bombers, and they carried up to eight each. Oh well, it's like that in war, only our funerals were always less.

His eyes wandered across the familiar scene in front of him. A new office, latest acquisition in bush timber, produced by the lads, was quite a pleasant-looking place. Certainly conformed with the surroundings. Even the shutters scrounged from Darwin town didn't look out of place. They'd made quite a good job of their flight dispersal, too, and their flagpole and surrounds seemed to shout defiance to all raiders. The flight flag was only a piece of rag but it had a map of the British Isles and Australia linked together, and crested with "We Link Hands". It summed up the feelings of these English lads fighting at the other side of the world with their own kith and kin against an enemy who was actuated by grasp and greed. He would never have success against this bond.

It was the same old war ... very definitely a world war. You found the same enemy wherever you went. It was the same aim, too, the defence of the Empire, or of any freethinking country's rights ... not the right that we might live, but the right that children of the future might have a world free to live in, not a regimented, soulless organization such as Hitler and his satellites would want. He moved restlessly ... then settled again.

The lads hadn't had much success with their flowers. You could try to make pansies, dahlias, chrysanthemums grow-you could try anything once, but the sun was much too fierce. Who was it said, "Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun"? What did it matter who, it was true enough.

He moved restlessly again ... how he ached after that game of soccer for the officers against "B" flight yesterday. No good telling them at home, they wouldn't have believed it. It had been good fun though, especially the swim in the creek after. With a spot of practice, the officers might even win, but they were up against some tough material. The lads took their soccer very seriously.

Suddenly he came to . jumped up, automatically grabbed his helmet and gloves from the back of the chair, paused for a fraction. Blast the telephone ... why don't Ops differentiate between the way they ring for "scramble" and when they want to give you a weather report? Who wants a weather report here anyway? He sprawled back in his deck chair again and half-dozed. Weather reports! It's always air-commodore's flying weather here. Wonder what he'd do when he got back to England? ... probably avoid all the clouds, he hadn't seen any for so long. Mustn't become too distorted about weather, or they might give him a stooge job in Group.

The bomber boys at home seemed to be doing their stuff . . . hate to have any relations anywhere in Germany now. They're doing pretty well out here, too. The Hudson boys are terrific - not much kudos for them, but the results were pretty good. The Beaus seem to have good fun, but an awful bloody nuisance to us, strafing the Nips on the ground so that they couldn't come over and attack, and we lost the action. Good luck to them anyway, it was wizard to have a crack at them, especially when they couldn't answer back.

It was the same ringing, but something more insistent about it. He didn't even pause this time. He was out to his machine. His ground crew were there waiting, as they always were. Pretty good these blokes, they did all the right things at the right time with a "scramble". Always gave you your harness straps the right way round. You never had to say, "Is the oxygen on?" "Is my camera master switch. on?" No ... they had the job buttoned up-just team work, and that was the basis of efficiency.

His hands operated the controls almost automatically-a movement of his left hand put into operation some thousand and more H.P. of Rolls engine ... only seconds and he was in his element . . . airborne. The R/T cracked slightly as it came on. "Hullo, Egret. Red i airborne.... Are you receiving?" Ops controller came on. He recognized Peter's voice. He was glad it was Peter.... He knew his methods. Over to Rob and Robin, his flight-commanders. Good show . . . squadron airborne in double quick time. Over to Peter again . . . . .. Vector o9o. Angels 3o. Bandits 2o plus. Attaboy."

Didn't matter where you were or where you got it from . . . those words meant the enemy, and you're out to do your stuff!

Squadron-LEADER E. M. GIBBS

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