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Authors: Robert Jackson
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with you. Now, before we get down to technicalities, let’s have a word about what we are likely to expect. Over to you, Freddie.’
Barnes rose and cleared his throat self-consciously, consulting a report he held in his hand.
‘The last reconnaissance of this area,’ he said, ‘was carried out yesterday afternoon by a PRU Spitfire, so it’s as up to date as we can make it. The indications are, first of all, that there are now four squadrons of Messerschmitt 109s at Eelde, with two more at Hoogeveen, and that there are three squadrons of Focke-Wulf 190s at Twenthe. Now here’s the flak situation.’
He pinned up three large target photographs, one for each airfield, and pointed out the known anti-aircraft emplacements. Hoogeveen seemed to be relatively poorly defended, but the perimeters of the other two airfields were stiff with quadruple 20-mm quick-firing cannon, and these would trouble the low-flying Mosquitos far more than the heavier-calibre 37-mm weapons sited here and there. Yeoman noted, too, that the Germans had sited light-calibre flak batteries along the approaches to the runways, to protect their aircraft as they were coming in to land.
Barnes went on to give more information about the opposition the Mosquitos were likely to expect, then Yeoman resumed his briefing.
‘Our call-sign will be Spanner,’ he said. ‘My section will be Spanner Red, McManners’ Spanner Blue, and Sloane’s Spanner Green. We shall be taking off at five-minute intervals, starting at 0530: Spanner Red first, then Green, then Blue, and we shall set course independently. In this way, we should all arrive over our targets at about the same time.
‘It will be low-level all the way, and we shall fly parallel with the Frisian Islands until we are abeam Rottumerplaat, when we shall turn in over the Dutch coast. Absolute radio silence is essential, I need hardly tell you. If anyone has a problem, he should waggle his wings and return to base, still at low level, and switch to D Frequency, but for Christ’s sake don’t use it unless you are in really serious trouble.’
In front of him, the pilots were busily scribbling down relevant information on scraps of paper or the backs of their hands. The room was beginning to fill with cigarette smoke.
‘And remember this,’ Yeoman continued, ‘let’s have no heroics. There’ll be time for one run over the target, and no more. Try to begin your attack on the side of the airfield away from the hangars and installations, giving yourselves plenty of time to shoot up anything you see before dropping the two 500-pounders you’ll be carrying among the buildings. I’ll leave it to the individual section leaders to work out the finer points with their chaps once they’ve had a good look at the target photos, but I would recommend detouring slightly to the east in order to attack out of the sun, wherever possible.
‘If you are attacked, don’t stay to fight; open the taps and piss off as fast as you can out to sea.’
Yeoman concluded his briefing with more advice and information, then turned over the platform to the specialist officers. For once, the weather forecast was optimistic; there was mist over East Anglia, but it was expected to clear at about 0500 and there should be no complications on either the outward or return flights. Cloud over western Europe would be four-tenths cumulus at eight thousand feet, and was not expected to increase or lower until late afternoon.
Yeoman listened absently to the specialist briefings, since he already knew the details, and took the opportunity to observe the pilots covertly, noting their reactions. There was no sign of any apprehension on any of their faces, not even on that of Flying Officer O’Grady, the one pilot about whom Yeoman had harboured certain reservations. O’Grady was a shy, retiring man of twenty-three who came from Liverpool, and Yeoman had never seen him take part in any of the spontaneous mess parties that sprang up
Barnes rose and cleared his throat self-consciously, consulting a report he held in his hand.
‘The last reconnaissance of this area,’ he said, ‘was carried out yesterday afternoon by a PRU Spitfire, so it’s as up to date as we can make it. The indications are, first of all, that there are now four squadrons of Messerschmitt 109s at Eelde, with two more at Hoogeveen, and that there are three squadrons of Focke-Wulf 190s at Twenthe. Now here’s the flak situation.’
He pinned up three large target photographs, one for each airfield, and pointed out the known anti-aircraft emplacements. Hoogeveen seemed to be relatively poorly defended, but the perimeters of the other two airfields were stiff with quadruple 20-mm quick-firing cannon, and these would trouble the low-flying Mosquitos far more than the heavier-calibre 37-mm weapons sited here and there. Yeoman noted, too, that the Germans had sited light-calibre flak batteries along the approaches to the runways, to protect their aircraft as they were coming in to land.
Barnes went on to give more information about the opposition the Mosquitos were likely to expect, then Yeoman resumed his briefing.
‘Our call-sign will be Spanner,’ he said. ‘My section will be Spanner Red, McManners’ Spanner Blue, and Sloane’s Spanner Green. We shall be taking off at five-minute intervals, starting at 0530: Spanner Red first, then Green, then Blue, and we shall set course independently. In this way, we should all arrive over our targets at about the same time.
‘It will be low-level all the way, and we shall fly parallel with the Frisian Islands until we are abeam Rottumerplaat, when we shall turn in over the Dutch coast. Absolute radio silence is essential, I need hardly tell you. If anyone has a problem, he should waggle his wings and return to base, still at low level, and switch to D Frequency, but for Christ’s sake don’t use it unless you are in really serious trouble.’
In front of him, the pilots were busily scribbling down relevant information on scraps of paper or the backs of their hands. The room was beginning to fill with cigarette smoke.
‘And remember this,’ Yeoman continued, ‘let’s have no heroics. There’ll be time for one run over the target, and no more. Try to begin your attack on the side of the airfield away from the hangars and installations, giving yourselves plenty of time to shoot up anything you see before dropping the two 500-pounders you’ll be carrying among the buildings. I’ll leave it to the individual section leaders to work out the finer points with their chaps once they’ve had a good look at the target photos, but I would recommend detouring slightly to the east in order to attack out of the sun, wherever possible.
‘If you are attacked, don’t stay to fight; open the taps and piss off as fast as you can out to sea.’
Yeoman concluded his briefing with more advice and information, then turned over the platform to the specialist officers. For once, the weather forecast was optimistic; there was mist over East Anglia, but it was expected to clear at about 0500 and there should be no complications on either the outward or return flights. Cloud over western Europe would be four-tenths cumulus at eight thousand feet, and was not expected to increase or lower until late afternoon.
Yeoman listened absently to the specialist briefings, since he already knew the details, and took the opportunity to observe the pilots covertly, noting their reactions. There was no sign of any apprehension on any of their faces, not even on that of Flying Officer O’Grady, the one pilot about whom Yeoman had harboured certain reservations. O’Grady was a shy, retiring man of twenty-three who came from Liverpool, and Yeoman had never seen him take part in any of the spontaneous mess parties that sprang up
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