Chapter 12 Attack Squadrons; Without Knocking; Blokes Up There; Mysterious Mission

ATTACK SQUADRONS

BESIDES three squadrons which fly single-seat aircraft, the R.A.A.F. has in the Middle East four multi-crew squadrons - bomber, reconnaissance, and general duties shows.

The story of Four Fifty-four R.A.A.F. Squadron began in England on April 2, 1942, when 343 ground personnel, all Englishmen, paraded at Blackpool for the first time. They sailed for the Middle East and arrived late in June. No aircraft or air crews awaited them, so for three months in Egypt and Palestine they acted as ground crews for other squadrons.

At this time the Germans were driving towards the Caucasus and the Black Sea, and it was feared they might launch an offensive against Iraq, Iran, and the Mosul oilfields. To counter this threat, Force "D" was formed, of which Four Fifty-four was to be a part, equipped with Baltimores as a light bomber squadron.

Four Fifty-four reached Quaraya on October 19, 1942, and there it stayed for three cold, quiet, peaceful months of training months which were unmarred by training accidents or fatalities. Early in the New Year the squadron was ordered back to Egypt, and on March 4, 1943, flew on its first operation - a sudden scramble in quest of a submarine west of Alexandria.

The squadron, with its Baltimores, was engaged on Naval Co-operation work. In April a move was made to the Western Desert, where Four Fifty-four's neighbour on the aerodrome was another Australian squadron also engaged on patrols and anti-submarine searches.

The next month saw a great increase in activity and the scope of its operations. There were, too, leaflet raids on Crete. The leaflets were printed in German for the benefit of enemy soldiers of occupation on the island. Since no bombs were carried, the crews filled their aircraft with empty beer bottles-Australian where possible-and dropped them for good measure. The terrifying noise they made sent many a German scurrying for shelter from the new "secret weapon".

In May and June Four Fifty-four was first put on offensive shipping sweeps off the coast of' Greece and Crete, to searching for small caiques of 20 to 150 tons which were being used by the Germans to provision their garrisons in the small islands of the Aegean and elsewhere. Here very useful work was done.

In search of these caiques, a dozen or so offensive sweeps were carried out, the first on May 4- In the sweeps 450 tons of shipping was confirmed as sunk, and another 620 tons was damaged.

This Baltimore squadron has a record of solid achievement of which Australians may be proud. In March this year, when it first began operations, it flew some 40o hours. In September the total topped 16oo. In March its aircraft serviceability average was 62 per cent. In September it was 94 per cent.

Four Fifty-eight Squadron, R.A.A.F., which is equipped with Wellingtons, was formed in England in August 1941. About 75 per cent of its original air crew and 30 per cent of its ground crew were Australians. The squadron went to Holme on Spalding Moor, Yorkshire, and from there carried out its first operation on October 20 - an attack by twelve aircraft on Antwerp docks.

Early in 1942 it was decided that Four Fifty-eight should go to the Middle East. The squadron's thirty-two Wellingtons were ferried out in two trips, the only aircraft lost on the wav being that flown by the C.O., Wing-Commander N. G. Mulholland, D.F.C., who overshot Malta and was shot down by fighters.

It was the time of the big "flap". Rommel was pushing the Eighth Army back to El Alamein and Four Fifty-eight's ground personnel found that the squadron's Wellingtons had been sent to other hard-pressed squadrons. They were detailed, therefore, to service Liberators; which Americans were flying direct from the United States. In September, however, largely through the efforts of Wing Commander L. L. Johnston, who had succeeded Wing-Commander Mulholland as C.O., Four Fifty-eight Squadron was reformed as a complete unit, and flying personnel, some new and some old, were trained for night torpedo strikes against shipping.

As 1943 dawned, a detachment from Four Fifty-eight was sent to Malta, where strength was gradually built up until as many as eighteen Wellingtons and their crews were operating from the island. These Malta-based aircraft did a splendid job. Working along the Italian coast, off Sicily and Pantellaria and
on "rover" patrols along the probable routes of enemy shipping, in four months they sank five ships and probably sank several others. They also destroyed a U-boat. Long operational hours were flown-for example. six hundred and thirty-five in February and six hundred and twenty in March. The price of success had to be paid and in those four months nine crews were lost.

Four Fifty-eight had enjoyed a brief respite from operations. but on June 18 it went into action again. still on torpedo strikes against shipping, for which it searched the Tyrrhenian Sea and the waters around Sardinia and Corsica. It celebrated its re-entry into operations by sinking- an unladen enemy tanker that night, the aircraft being captained by the only American member of the squadron. It was now the eve of the invasion of Sicily, and when it began on July io, the squadron was operating from eight to twelve aircraft every night. In thirty-five days from June 18 the squadron flew one hundred and seventy-four operational sorties and between that date and the end f August it had seven ships confirmed as sunk and several other probables. It was a period of exceptional activity. Between June 18 and May 31 a total of one thousand three hundred and fifty-two operational hours were flown, a record for any bomber squadron in the Middle East or North Africa. In August it flew one thousand and fifty-one hours.

Four Fifty-eight lost twenty crews in a year's operations to the middle of September 1943.

At the time Four Fifty-nine R.A.A.F. Squadron began its career at Burg-el-Arab, on the fringe of the Western Desert, on February 10, 1942, the Air Officer Commanding the Naval Co-operation Group to which it belonged wrote: "I have every confidence that the squadron will achieve the high standard in this specialized work of sea reconnaissance that has been achieved in fighting and bombing by other Australian units."

Until the arrival of Wing-Commander K. S. Hennock in April, command was assumed by Squadron-Leader P. W. Howson. The squadron moved to other desert aerodromes. The first two operational flights were made on February 14, but the work of building a complete squadron continued but slowly. It was not until June that Four Fifty-nine, equipped with Hudsons, commenced in earnest its real job of guarding convoys and searching for U-boats in the dangerous waters of the Mediterranean.

In July 1942. Four Fifty-nine was given its most difficult and dangerous task. Rommel was held by the Eighth Army at El Alamein, but Tobruk was in the enemy's hands and from it he was bringing supplies down the coast to Sollum and Mersa Matruh. These supplies were transported in barges, known as "F" boats, each of which was said to carry the equivalent of ninety or more fully laden trucks. Of welded steel, the barges had a length of one hundred and fifty-six feet and a beam of twenty-one feet. They were heavily armed, and were well able to defend themselves. The disruption of this traffic was vital to Allied plans and the task was entrusted to Four Fifty-nine. Between July 28 and August 1 the squadron destroyed seventeen of the barges and damaged three others. The cost was heavy. Four aircraft and their crews were lost. Two D.F.Cs were gained as a direct result of these successes and two others were partly attributable to them.

In September, Four Fifty-nine had a splendid "kill", an Italian destroyer which was attacked with bombs from forty feet and left ablaze and sinking-a daring attack which was largely responsible for the award of the D.F.C. to the pilot. In that month detachments were sent to Palestine and Aden, both being employed on escort duty to convoys. The Aden detachment rendered yeoman service under difficult and trying conditions. In September, too, a motor vessel was left listing heavily after a mast-head attack in broad daylight. Wing-Commander Hennock left the squadron and Howson again, now a wing-commander, took over, to begin a notable leadership.

In April the sighting of a U-boat below the surface on the course of a convoy prevented an attack on the convoy. The Navy signalled its thanks. The end of May completed a year of operational flying for Four Fifty-nine-a year in which 1294 sorties of 6,775 operational hours were flown.

The celebration of the squadron's birthday on June i ushered in what was to be one of the most successful months in Four Fifty-nine's history. A record number of hours was flown -906 in 151 sorties - and Four Fifty-nine "belayed" its first submarine. The U-boat was surprised on the surface, a direct hit and two near misses were scored and the vessel sank in less than five minutes.

Time has proved right the prediction of the A.O.C. concerning the good work destined to be done by Four Fifty-nine Squadron.

In July 1942 two crack squadrons of R.A.F. Bomber Command were flown to the Middle East, it being hoped, among other things, that they might have a chance of inflicting some damage on the Italian fleet.

Two months later it was decided to amalgamate the two units into Four Sixty-two squadron, R.A.A.F.-the first Halifax squadron in the Middle East. But although R.A.A.F. in name, the new unit was Empire in character-English, Canadians, and New Zealanders were included in its ranks. Its C.O. was Wing-Commander D. 0. Young, D.S.O., D.F.C., A.F.C., but when, early in 1943, the newly formed squadron moved forward Cyrenaica, and from its base there attacked targets in Sicily and enemy shipping in the seas around, he was succeeded by Wing Commander P. S. B. Warner, D.S.O.

By then the Eighth Army in its victorious advance was far ahead. The attack on the Mareth Line was to begin in March and the "Halifaxes were to give the Army close support. They moved west again and from their aerodrome in Tripolitania blasted targets in the Mareth Line, troop concentrations, motor transport and aerodromes. In March alone they dropped 558,840 pounds of bombs.

With the North African campaign brought to its triumphant conclusion, the heavy bombers turned their attention once more to Sicily

and southern Italy, continually attacking aerodromes, railways, harbours and communications. ""hen the invasion of Sicily was launched in July the squadron was a spearhead, being the last to bomb before the Army landed.

Since its arrival in the Middle East in 1941, No. i Air Ambulance Unit, R.A.A.F., has done a splendid job in the North African campaigns. Originally intended to operate with the A.I.F. and carry Australian battle casualties, it was instead, through the vicissitudes of war, attached to the British Army, and has carried British, New Zealand, South African, Indian, and Fighting French soldiers, as well as Australians.

By the time the fighting in Tunisia was over it had evacuated 4679 patients, ameliorating much pain and suffering, and saving many lives. When the invasion of S'c1hr was launched in July it operated there, and later on the mainland of Italy.

The unit's first three aircraft were De Havilland 86s which had been flown to the Middle East in 194 1 via the Netherlands East Indies, Malaya, India and Arabia. The first C.O. was Flight-Lieutenant J. G. Macdonald. Ground crew sailed from Sydney on April 9. In July the nucleus of the unit went to Gaza in Palestine, and from there it did the first operation-the evacuation of three patients from Cyprus.

In the middle of October 1941, the unit was sent to the Western Desert, where its aerodromes were frequently raided. But it was beginning to get down to its job. In November 168 patients were carried and in December, 284, small figures in comparison with what was to be done later, but a start.

During the long march forward from El Alamein to Tunis the air ambulances, their crews and ground personnel, were seldom more than forty miles behind the front line. and on one occasion, operated from an 1111provised strip only three miles from it. With, North Africa in our hands, the air ambulances moved first to Sicily and then to Italy to continue their errands of mercy. The rapid movement by air of wounded men had saved many lives, and certainly much pain and suffering. No. 1 Air Ambulance Unit's task had proved worth while.

MYSTERIOUS MISSION

THE strings of Europe were stretched taut in the fateful mid-summer of 194o and the high discordant notes of disaster reverberated ominously throughout the world. Dunkirk had given forth its miracle, Britain stood stripped of arms, yet prepared to fight on with tooth and nail. The screaming treble of disaster was audible above the bass rumble of Hitler's panzers as they rolled west and north for the kill. France staggered and trembled on the brink of her fate. Would she fight on in Africa, would she crumble and collapse under the ravages of the political termites which had sapped her strength and her will.

On this result might well depend the fate of Britain, her ally. Churchill offered her union with the British Empire, ultimately sent Lord Lloyd, leader of the House of Lords, to urge chaotic France to continue the battle. An Australian Sunderland crew took Lord Lloyd to Lake Bascarrosse, near Bordeaux, for the historic conference. "They will not fight," he said sadly, as the Sunderland rose on her return to England.

This is the story of that mission, as told by a member of the R.A.A.F. who acted as first pilot of the Sunderland.

Just before noon on June 19, 1940, we were told off to prepare for the trip to Bascarrosse. It was a secret mission. We knew we were to have an important passenger. That was all. That it would be exciting, perhaps dangerous, no one doubted, for France was on the edge of the precipice and things were about as bad as they could be. Even at that stage, I do not think many people in England realized how rotten at the core France was and they still cherished the hope that France would fight on. They were soon to be disillusioned and, as the rapidly moving, events in the next few days unfolded, the scales fell from their bewf1dered eyes, and they saw that England was alone and in her greatest peril.

We were introduced to Lord Lloyd when he came aboard and I remember very distinctly his thick-set athletic figure and powerful personality. By this time we were out in the Sound. The captain took his seat, tested the engines, and was about to take off when a power-boat signalled us, came alongside, and passed aboard a crate.

We took a dim view of that crate, for it contained champagne and in the drama of the hour there seemed to be a Nero touch about it. Later, we were to think even less of it, as you will hear.

The weather was perfect. From the Sound we could see the Lizard, and in about forty five minutes were over the Scillies and setting a southward course to take a wide berth of Brest. The Germans had been quick to grasp the strategical value of Brest, and with an excellent radio location system and a few squadrons of long-range fighters-usually JU88s-they were making this corner a not very-happy hunting-ground for our slow and vulnerable Sunderlands.

While we kept our eyes skinned for some of these unwelcome visitors, the wireless be0,an to crackle and grunt. It seemed to be inordinately garrulous, and eventually the operator passed a longish code message to the captain. I remember wondering what urgent, epoch-making event had happened which necessitated such a long message. The captain took the slip and instructed the operator to acknowledge receipt by the single letter "R", which is the universal signal for "message received". The usual procedure was to repeat back the whole message, but the captain feared that such a procedure would disclose our position to the JUs and bring them shooting about our ears. This, however, did not meet the approval of the zealous bloke on the other key, and he called again and again, demanding a repeat back.

When decoded, the message said: "The champagne is for Lord Lloyd."

"Wouldn't it?" asked the captain. Subsequent revelations by the intelligence people gave the answer in the affirmative. The enemy had picked up our signals, and had obtained an exact fix of our position.

I was at the controls and the second dickie was alongside me when Lord Lloyd stood between us and told us of the object of the trip. "You have a right to know why we are going to Bordeaux," he said, "since you arc all taking the same risk." We appreciated that, because too often we were regarded as taxi drivers by our passengers-particularly by the less senior ones. "My job," Lord Lloyd continued, "is to try to persuade the French Government to fight on from Africa." We were profoundly impressed by the importance of the task, and I for one felt a good deal of pride that I was seeing history in the making. Lord Lloyd spoke freely of his experiences in France-of the last days in Paris, of sleeping on a park bench with Tommies, and of other hardships. He spoke bitterly and I suspected that none knew better than he that the heart of France was beating weakly, and that his mission was hopeless.

Bascarrosse lay stagnant and inert except for the animation of the Sunderland's wake. It was typical of the torpor of France and the spirit of pugnacious England. We tied up to a buoy that would have held the Queen Mary and a boat took Lord Lloyd ashore. We then began a period of tense, nerve-jangling waiting. It was macabre, depressing, and now and again sent the flesh creeping up one's spine. Not far away, somewhere, the Germans were moving towards us.

First we suffered the perils of having our hull holed by the clumsy French re-fuelling methods, and we indulged in a frenzied pandemonium of yelling and screaming to ward them off. The French screamed back. In between whiles we ordered six hundred gallons, tried to convert it into liters, and tried to make ourselves understood in extremely bad French.

Anyhow, we managed to get the fuel and to regain the buoy undamaged. The crew regarded this as a miracle, and I think it must have been.

Close by was another Sunderland-the Imperial Airways Clare-standing by to take members of the French Cabinet to Africa. The second officer came across in a very decrepit rowing-boat and invited us to join them in a bottle of beer. We had a bottle each and then went ashore to see what was what.

That evening we dined in the local French officers' mess and our hearts sank. The mess was very bright and noisy. I was astonished that the place was not blacked out, with the Huns only thirty miles or so away, and said so. The French officers answered my fears with a shrug of the shoulders and went on with the merry-making. Out on the lake were eighteen or twenty French seaplanes. Why was no one attempting to fly them to England? Again the shrug. The radio was blaring out the news. I watched the Frenchmen's faces. One of them turned to me and said: "It is no use . . . finish." And that was that. A shrug ... finish . . . ce ne fait rien ... c'est la guerre ... finish.

In that mess there was not one Frenchman who cared, not one who would try to prevent the catastrophe, not one who would try to recover the fortunes and honour of France. It was appalling. How Hitler must have laughed at Churchill's offer of union with the British Empire. He knew that France was rotten. As I looked round, I felt depressed, afraid. It is not pleasant to see a nation in its death throes.

About 10 o'clock, I heard the engines of an aircraft and rushed outside to look. Had the Huns come already? But in the open I recognized the noise as that of another Sunderland. It came down without assistance from flares, and the engines remained running. The second pilot and I scrounged a boat. One oar was longer than the other, and we rowed in circles.. A head sticking out of the new arrival's cockpit was silhouetted against the moon. I recognized Ainslie, of a R.A.F. squadron. Ainslie was well liked by all of us. He disappeared on a job a little later; we suspected shot down by a submarine at night.

All Ainslie could see of us were the faint outlines of the boat and our two figures. I

suppose we looked sinister. We tried to shout above the clatter of the two outer engines. It was idiotic. I dimly heard snatches of French and German and lost my temper. I shouted, while my companion worked feverishly to keep us out of the cleaving circle of the port propeller. I poured out a stream of impure, straight-to-the-point language.

The engines stopped and I heard Ainslie say to the C.O. of the squadron, whose voice I recognized: "It's all right, sir, the Aussies are here."

We went alongside the Sunderland, secured our boat-and looked up into the muzzle of a forty-five, held by a grim looking wing-commander. A few quick words of reassurance and he put his gun up. He said he was sorry, but when he left England he was told to expect Frenchmen, but to be prepared for Huns. Hence the short slip, the revving engines, and the forty-five.

That night everything was still and beautiful. No breeze disturbed the water. The moon was low and the only sounds I could hear were the squeaks and grunts of the wireless as the operator twiddled his dials. Then, towards midnight, I heard the sound of oars, and with my heart beating about a thousand to the minute, I grabbed my forty-five and poked my head out of the hatch. A boat was coming alongside and a voice was giving orders in French. My finger was moving towards the "action stations" button when I recognized the wing-commander. He saw my forty-five, grinned, and said, "Getting your own back?" He was leaving, he said.

"Good luck," I called.

"Good luck be damned," he answered. "You're the ones who will need the good luck, you're staying till mid-day." And he chuckled to himself and pushed off. I wondered what he was laughing at, for I was scared as hell, and couldn't see the joke. I imagined hordes of German soldiers heading our way, intent on catching me.

Daylight dissipated my fears, and after breakfast we stood about waiting for the return of Lord Lloyd. I took a boat and rowed ashore. A sentry was guarding French works-they had been building quite a big seaplane base. He said he was just eighteen and that he came from Lyons. He showed me his rifle. It was a monstrosity of the last century, and his supply of ammunition consisted of four rounds of anti-tank bullets which would not fit it. He was certain France was doomed and a little tearful at his own helplessness. I tried to tell him that Britain would restore France. He looked at me wide-eyed, hopefully, and then shook his head. "Finish," he said.

I am not surprised I could not convince him. I found it hard to see how Britain could help herself. But I knew she would try.

A car pulled up in a cloud of dust soon after noon, and three figures leapt out. One was a R.A.F. air-commodore, and he began to wave frantically to us to start our engines. He was apparently a landplane bloke and didn't know that the engines of a seaplane or flying-boat are never started until you are in a position to slip the moorings. So he kept waving, and I suppose, swearing, all the way out. He must have been tired by the time he arrived alongside with Lord Lloyd. In thirty seconds we were away. Lord Lloyd looked terrible. He was haggard from lack of sleep, and he had a heavy black growth of beard, a very fearsome sight.

My look must have conveyed the question which was in all our minds, for he said, "No, they won't fight."

Before Lord Lloyd left the boat, he thanked the crew and made them a present of the crate of champagne. They were sent ashore to drink it and have the day off. They drank it, and by all reports, they needed the day off.

About that champagne, the garrulous code message, the radio-location, and the Junkers, by the way. Our intelligence officers told us a story a few days later that our signals had been received by the Hun, and that a force of fighters was brought to the stand-by in an attempt to intercept us. But, the I.Os said, some German, apparently unwilling to admit that he could not break the code, pretended to be able to do so, and said that the message stated that we had a cover of fighters. This caused the enemy to abandon his attempt, as he still had relatively few aircraft at Brest. Though I do not vouch for its truth, this is the story, and I like it, because it is the best line shoot in my locker.

ON THE SIDE OF GLORY

IN the balance sheet of the Australian air fighting forces there must be set down an impressive entry for glory won. From the beginning of hostilities, members of the R.A.A.F. and Australians serving with the R.A.F. on the various fronts have won 918 awards for gallantry. Fifteen others have been commended, 229 have been mentioned in dispatches, and 18 have received foreign awards.

These 918 awards include three Victoria Crosses-one won by an Australian serving with the R.A.F., this others awards to members of the R.A.A.F.-seven George Medals, five Conspicuous Gallantry Medals, three Military Medals. and two Military Crosses. These awards are specially mentioned, because they are not awards generally associated with flying. The list also contains the names Of 29 who have won Distinguished Service Orders, of 442 who have won Distinguished Flying Crosses, and of 252 who have won Distinguished Flying Medals.

The C.G.M. is a new award new to the Air Forces. Last January the King made it available for the first time. Previously, it was a decoration peculiar to the Navy and to airmen serving with the Navy. For naval personnel, a blue and white ribbon is worn, but for flying personnel, the ribbon has been altered to light and dark blue. It is restricted to non-commissioned ranks, and rates above the Distinguished Flying Medal.

One Australian officer has won four separate awards in this war, and six others have won three each.

They are:
- Wing-Commander C. R. Caldwell, D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar and Polish Cross of Valour;
- Group Captain H. I. Edwards, V.C., D.S.O., D.F.C.;
- Squadron-Leader R. H. Gibbes, D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar;
- Squadron-Leader B. L. Duigan, D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar;
- Wing-Commander H. C. Mayers, D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar;
- Flight-Lieutenant P. S. Isaacson, D.F.C., A.F.C., D.F.M.;
- Sergeant N. F. Williams, C.G.M., D.F.M. and Bar.

In another section of this volume, a complete list of the names of airmen and officers of the R.A.A.F. and of Australians serving with the R.A.F. is given, with the decorations awarded. Space will not permit, as the editors would have desired, to give in detail the official citations to all awards won in the last twelve months. Only a few have been selected, more or less at random. They do not give even a cross section of the whole, but must suffice as showing the gallantry of all sections of the air fighting force.

The winners of multiple awards will be dealt with first.

Wino-Commander Clive Robertson Caldwell is Australia's ace, with a score of twenty-seven and a half enemy aircraft destroyed, some in the Middle East, some in Australia. His was one of the rare cases of awards of the D.F.C. and Bar being made simultaneously. These awards were made in the Middle East as was that of the Polish Cross of Valour. Caldwell won the D.F.C. for consistent and brilliant work and particularly for a feat he performed while patrolling over units of the Royal Navy.

The Bar to the D.F.C. was awarded for Caldwell's part in air battles over the Libyan desert. The flight of aircraft he was leading ran into a number of Stuka dive bombers over the battle area. In the ensuing flight, Caldwell alone accounted for five enemy aircraft.

Some time later, Caldwell commanded a Polish fighter squadron in the Middle East, and it was for his splendid work with that unit that he gained his third award. On return

to Australia, he was given command of a Spitfire wing operating in Australia. After a tour of operations, he was withdrawn for other duties and awarded the D.S.O. A native of New South Wales, Caldwell is thirty-two years of age. He has earned the sobriquet of "Killer".

Group-Captain Hugh Idwal Edwards is the most highly decorated Australian airman of this or the 1914- 18 war. He was awarded the Victoria Cross for his participation in a daylight attack on Bremen in 1942. That raid was planned and led by him. The aircraft in the formation flew at fifty feet and all of them were hit and damaged by anti-aircraft fire. Four of them were destroyed. With great courage and coolness, Edwards after the mission had been successfully completed, withdrew the remaining aircraft. He was awarded the D.F.C. during his next tour of operations, during which he made many sorties over heavily defended targets in Germany, and the D.S.O. at the end of last year. Edwards was born at Fremantle in 1914.

Squadron-Leader Robert Henry Gibbes is known throughout the Western Desert as a former commander of the famous No. 3 Australian fighter squadron. He gained his D.F.C. for an action in which he dived through enemy fighter cover to attack a bomber formation. His Kittyhawk was shot down by a Messerschmitt 109 and Gibbes baled out, and was injured in landing. His determination on all occasions to deal with enemy aircraft had inspired his companions and had given Gibbes six enemy aircraft destroyed for certain and fourteen others probably destroyed.

Gibbes had been with the squadron for more than eighteen months and had made more than two hundred operational sorties when he was awarded the D.S.O. He had then increased his bag to ten certainties, and his total hours in operations to four hundred.

Gibbes was awarded the Bar to his D.F.C. in May, and at that time had received more decorations than any other serving member of the R.A.A.F. He had not increased his bag, but the citation stated that he had shown exceptional leadership, skill and courage. When he left the squadron, he had been in thirty-three combats, and it was he who shot down the squadron's two hundredth enemy aircraft, a Messerschmitt 109. Gibbes, who is twenty-seven, comes from Manly.

Squadron-Leader Brian Lawless Duigan has had an adventurous career. After completing his first tour of operational duty in Wellingtons in the United Kingdom, he volunteered for duty in the Middle East, where he completed many outstanding missions. In particular, he played an outstanding part in the capture of Habbaniyah, in Iraq in May 1941. Since his return to Britain he has taken part in many bombing-raids on Germany, Italy, and occupied territory. Last April he was in the attack on the Italian naval base at Spezia when he bombed barges accurately and effectively, although a hurricane was blowing through his cabin from a jammed escape hatch. During every sortie, the citation stated, Duigan had displayed courage and devotion to duty in the face of heavy ground defences and fighters.

In South Africa before the war began, Duigan decided to join the R.A.F., and he rode a motor cycle four thousand miles through equatorial Africa, Abyssinia, Albania, Italy and France, to England. He passed out
of his final flying-school just before war was declared, and immediately began operations as captain of a Wellington in raids over Germany. He was on the German run for nine months. Then he flew to the Middle East, and in July 1941 received the D.F.C. The Bar followed soon after, and he was also mentioned in dispatches. He received the D.S.O. last July.

Wing-Commander Clive Howard Mayers was reported missing after he had won his third award. How he won the D.F.C. was described in "These Eagles". The immediate award of the Bar was gained in Libya, where his mastery of air fighting tactics and skilful planning of operations contributed to the many successes his squadron obtained. During a strafing attack against an enemy column one of his men was shot down. When the attack was over, Mayers skilfully landed his aircraft near the crashed machine, and when the marooned comrade had been put in the pilot's seat, Mayers climbed in on top of him and flew back to base. He had always shown great courage and leadership and at the time of the award of the Bar, had shot down eleven

enemy aircraft. He later assumed command of the wing, and was awarded the D.S.O. for leading attacks on enemy supply-carrying aircraft, many of which he had destroyed.

Flight-Lieutenant Peter Stuart Isaacson gained the D.F.M. when, as Sergeant Isaacson, he was captain of a Lancaster bomber on raids to Germany. He had taken part in many raids on industrial targets, and on all occasions had shown fine offensive spirit and great determination.

Four months later, as pilot-officer, Isaacson was awarded the D.F.C. One night in March 1943 Isaacson was detailed to attack Berlin. The mission was completed and the Lancaster was still over the target area when it was severely damaged by anti-aircraft fire.

Isaacson escaped from the danger zone, and on the return journey the Lancaster was held in a searchlight cone for fifteen minutes. In the evasive action taken, the Lancaster was driven far off its course and an additional loss of height to about 800 feet was suffered. In the face of this perilous situation, Isaacson showed coolness, resolution and skilful airmanship to fly back to base, the citation stated.

The A.F.C. was awarded to Isaacson for his splendid performance in flying a Lancaster from England to Australia last May. She carried an all-Australian crew-the first Australian "Pathfinder" crew in the R.A.F. Isaacson, who comes from Melbourne, is aged twenty-three.

Sergeant Norman Francis Williams is a rear gunner in a bomber. While returning from a night attack on Bremen he destroyed a Junkers 88 twin-engined night fighter which had maneuvered to attack his aircraft from the rear. Throughout the fight, Williams showed outstanding skill and resource, and set an inspiring example to the other members of the crew. For this he was awarded the D.F.M.

He gained the Bar to the D.F.M. six months later. He had taken part in sorties on Turin, Genoa, Cologne, Hamburg, Essen and Berlin. In these raids he had always shown a cheerful confidence and fine fighting spirit, coupled with undaunted determination to achieve his object.

The deed which won Williams the C.G.M. was similar to but even more brilliant than that which gained him the D.F.M. One

in July this year, Williams was rear gunner in an aircraft detailed to attack Dusseldorf; The bomber was intercepted by two enemy fighters and in the first encounter Williams rear turret was rendered unserviceable and he received several bullet wounds in the legs and body. Nevertheless, when the second aircraft attacked, Williams gave his captain skillful directions which enabled him to evade the fighter. Williams then delivered an accurate burst of fire which caused the enemy fighter to explode in mid-air.

The first enemy fighter then resumed the attack, and although Williams was in considerable pain from his wounds, and both his legs were partly paralysed, he shot the fighter down with a well-placed burst.

Making light of his wounds, Williams remained in the damaged turret until the bomber landed. When he tried to emerge it was discovered that the turret had to be cut away before he could be released.

Other noteworthy deeds follow:

Pilot-Officer Arthur Gerald Graham Richmond risked his life to drag a wounded comrade from a pool of blazing petrol after a Sunderland flying-boat, of which he was a member of the crew, had crashed in the sea. For his great courage, he was awarded the George Medal.

Sergeant Arthur Frederick Blackwell was the first member of the R.A.A.F. to be awarded the C.G.M. He gained the award for taking the place of his pilot who had been killed during an attack on an enemy target. This occurred in April, this year. Blackwell was navigator of the aircraft and while over the target, the pilot was killed by anti-aircraft fire.

Flight-Sergeant Francis Edwin Mathers displayed exceptional skill in the most harassing circumstances to win the C.G.M. One night in June this year, he was pilot of a bomber which, after attacking an enemy target, was heavily engaged by ground fire and repeatedly hit. Two of the four engines were put out of commission in quick succession. and the starboard aileron control was shot away. Three petrol tanks were pierced and all leaked badly. Mathers steered clear of the ack-ack and set course for home, but the bomber gradually lost height. All movable equipment, including the guns of the mid-upper turret and some of the ammunition, was jettisoned, and some height was regained.

Soon after the enemy coast had been crossed, however, the bomber was intercepted by an enemy fighter, which was shot into the sea. By this time, the bomber was down to five hundred feet, vet Mathers struggled on and managed to reach a landing-field on the English coast.

Sergeant George Aldon Downton, twenty-five, of Hampden, Victoria, gained the C.G.M. as a wireless operator-air gunner. His bomber was engaged near Cap Bon, Tunisia, by ten enemy aircraft. In the combat, Downton was wounded three times, and one of his guns, was put out of action. Despite this he coolly directed his pilot in taking evasive action until the aircraft could no longer be flown and was landed on fire in enemy territory. With complete disregard for his own safety, Downton, who had escaped serious injury in the crash, entered the blazing wreckage and assisted in extricating a member of the crew who was badly burned. He then tried valiantly to re-enter the rear of the bomber to rescue still another trapped comrade, but was finally beaten back by the intense heat of the fire.

Sergeant Alexander Edward Owen Barras was the first member of the R.A.A.F. to win the Military Medal. Barras, a resident of West Perth, is aged twenty-nine, and was known before the war as a State cricket representative. He was awarded the M.M. for an amazing twenty-two day trek over the Western Desert, at the head of his bomber crew, after they had made a forced landing.

A somewhat similar adventure befell Sergeant Neville Thomas Eric Hewitt, an air gunner, who was also awarded the Military Medal. When flying at three thousand feet above a desert target, Hewitt's aircraft was viciously attacked by enemy fighters, and Hewitt was ordered to abandon aircraft. Taking to his parachute he landed in no-man's land, seriously injuring an ankle in doing so. Hewitt did not know where he was, but, as every time he made a movement he drew fire, he rightly assumed he was in enemy territory. When daylight came the next day, Hewitt saw the crashed aircraft a mile away. In great pain, he crawled. mostly at night, until he reached it. It took him four days to crawl the mile. lie narrowly escaped encounters with enemy patrols and had suffered excruciating agony. Hewitt endeavoured to destroy everything possible in the aircraft which was of value, and then crawled away and managed to reach some huts, where he was rescued six and a half days after abandoning, his aircraft.

Third award of the M.M. to a member of the R.A.A.F. was made to Pilot-Officer (then Sergeant) George Connor Watson O'Neill of Cremorne, New South Wales. His award, also, was won in the desert campaign. A member of an Australian fighter squadron, he made a forced landing because of engine failure, and walked back to his unit. Then, later, after a low-level attack on a target near Churgia last January, he was again compelled to land, this time many miles behind the enemy's lines. In the face of machine-gun fire, O'Neill penetrated the enemy's lines and reached our forces four days later.

Flying-Officer Mervyn Charles Shipard, of Albury, New South Wales, is Australia's most successful night fighter pilot. In one week, while operating from Malta, he destroyed three German Heinkels and probably destroyed another. This brought his total of night kills to seven confirmed and one probable. All were gained from Malta except one, which Shipard shot down over the British Isles. In an eight-hour flight one night, he scored one certainty and one probable. Two nights later he shot down two more. Shipard was awarded the D.F.C., and when he had destroyed a total of thirteen enemy aircraft at night, he was awarded a Bar to his D.F.C.

Sergeant James Chadd Rudd won the D.F.M. on his first operational flight over enemy territory for skill, tenacity, and devotion to duty. One night in April this year he was captain of an aircraft detailed to attack Stettin. When two hundred miles from the target one engine was damaged by antiaircraft fire and rendered useless. Rudd, nevertheless, flew on, bombed the target, and returned safely. Rudd lived at Burnside, South Australia, before he enlisted in the R.A.A.F.