Bomber Command
by Brian Grafton
Against the Wall: Britain in September, 1940
By September of 1940, the war in Europe should have been over.
The Allied armies had been overpowered, first in Norway and then, very rapidly indeed, in Holland, Belgium and France. The "Miracle at Dunkirk", the final act of a strategic and tactical rout which began in the Ardennes, had deposited 330,000 bedraggled troops in Britain with weapons little larger than rifle calibre. Britain herself was open for invasion, defended only by over- and under-aged Local Defence Volunteers[1] armed with little more than pitch-forks and hunting rifles and by scattered commonwealth troops with few weapons, haphazard training and no combat experience.
At sea, the Royal Navy had had mixed success and was still a major force. The loss of Courageous and the early embarrassment of U-47's success in Scapa Flow had been off-set by the hunting down of Graf Spee. But the fall of Europe to the Wehrmacht and the loss of the French fleet had drastically skewed the role the Royal Navy was expected to play in any European war (keeping the sea-lanes open; and blockade). With all of the coastline from Sweden to Spain at her disposal, the Kriegsmarine had a substantially increased opportunity to sever England's lifelines to her commonwealth and empire and starve her into submission. The Royal Navy had neither the weapons, the ships, the tactics nor the personnel to conduct effective counter-measures to the threat the U-boats presented, a bleak reality that was not to change for three years. At the same time, the threat from surface raiders would keep many of Britain's capital ships hog-tied at Scapa for years to come.
In the air, things were rather more complex, but essentially no better.
Defensively, Britain had an increasingly powerful fighter presence in their Hurricane and Spitfire squadrons. Churchill was prepared to squander them over the battlefields of France, [2] which would have left England relatively naked to the coming onslaught by Goering's Luftwaffe. Only Dowding's [3] persistence in retaining them for the defence of England kept the squadrons on English soil. They were to prove enough, just enough, to keep the Luftwaffe from taking command of the skies and opening England to invasion. But by the end of the summer of 1940, Fighter Command was battered both from the growing German offensive and because of a vicious internal dispute. [4] By mid-September, 11 Group would have no reserves to meet the Luftwaffe assault.
Offensively, the RAF had Bomber Command. [5] The beginning of the war found Bomber Command in a rather sorry state. Bomber development had suffered as a result of the financial catastrophe of the 1930s: bombers were expensive to build. Still, RAF Bomber Command did have aircraft. Chief amongst them was the Vickers Wellington (the "Wimpey"), designed by Barnes Wallis. [6] But there were many others: the Whitley; the Battle; the Blenheim; the Hampden. The Battle in particular was obsolete or obsolescent at the beginning of the war; its use came at high cost in lost air crew for pathetic or non-existent results.
Plans for more sophisticated bombers were in the works: the Stirling, the Halifax and the Manchester were bigger, faster, had greater range and substantial bomb loads. But in September of 1940 they were still in the future; the first Lancaster [7] was not to fly until early 1941.
Bomber Command was not entirely idle during the 'phony war' of 1939/40 or the furious German assault on France and the Low Countries in May, 1940. Bomber Command had attacked German military installations such as Wilhelmshaven and Heligoland, but with disastrous results and at great cost. By early 1940 it was clear that RAF bombers could not defend themselves against fighter attack. Tactically, the Blenheims and Battles were thrown at Wehrmacht columns advancing through France. They were slaughtered, and without a shred of the success achieved by the Ju 87 [8] to mark their passing.
Finally, Britain was in a desperate financial situation. The 'Cash and Carry' policies enacted by Congress favoured the British cause, in that goods purchased from the U.S. had to be carried in ships under the purchaser's registry. Since the sea lanes to Britain were still open, the "carry" policy worked in their favour (as was probably intended by Roosevelt). But British funds and foreign reserves were being fast depleted, and these could not be replaced.
At the end of the summer of 1940, then, Britain's future was bleak. The remnants of a once-proud army were dragged home after an unquestionable defeat; the navy was unable to keep the English Channel open, and faced increased threats from both U-boats and surface forces capable of attacking from any number of bases along a greatly increased shoreline. Fighter Command was battling fiercely with the Luftwaffe, and watching its pilot reserve shrink daily. Bomber Command was incapable of taking the war to the enemy. For all her vast commonwealth and empire, Britain was facing bankruptcy. It is not too difficult to understand why Hitler offered his "appeal to reason", or why U.S. Ambassador Joe Kennedy was shipping his daughter back to the States while announcing to anyone who would listen that the British were finished.
The British did not listen. They fought back. Their chosen weapon, in truth, their only viable weapon, was Bomber Command. Churchill himself summed it up nicely on September 3, 1940:
The Navy can lose us the war, but only the Air Force can win it. Therefore our supreme effort must be to gain overwhelming mastery of the air. The Fighters are our salvation, but the Bombers alone provide the means of victory. [9]
This is the story of what the bombers provided, and how they provided it.
Between the Wars
In the years after World War I, the relative merits of bombers and fighters were strongly debated. Douhet's dictum was the benchmark, rendered by Stanley Baldwin in English as "the bomber will always get through". Douhet and his followers, adherents, or fellow visionaries - Trenchard in Britain and Mitchell in the U.S. among them - argued early in the inter-war years that in any future war swarms of bombers would assault the enemy at home, and so devastate its population that maddened, deranged civilians would demand their government sue for peace.
The primary means of defense, then as now, was to destroy the bombers before they reached their targets. Fighter aircraft, by whatever name they were called [10] would be needed to defend the homeland by shooting down attacking enemy bombers. Failing that - and many believed that fighters would fail - other anti-aircraft devices would be expected to destroy the enemy either before they reached the target or over the target area.
It was a compelling debate, upon which the fate of nations might literally depend. [11] The defeat of the bomber became one focus of research, and many improbable avenues were explored. One of the most improbable avenues, the search for a death ray that might boil the blood of enemy pilots, lead - very indirectly - to one of the most significant developments of the war: RDF, or radar.
During the 1920s and early 1930s the bomber-fighter debate was largely contained within military and economic spheres. The British, for instance, invoked a "Ten Year Rule" for approving military expenditures, based on the probability of war in the next ten years. Events in Germany in 1933 changed the rules. As was the case with all of Germany's armed forces, the growth of the Luftwaffe was spectacular. By 1937, when a Dornier Do 17 bomber (the 'Flying Pencil') equipped with special engines appeared at a Zürich air show, Douhet's vision appeared to be a reality. There was not an operational fighter outside Germany that could catch this Do 17; her flight marked a wake-up call to western democracies. Even with the less efficient engines assigned her, the early Do 17s flew at 220 mph, and could carry a bomb load of 750 kg. And they had their own answers to any fighter that might stumble upon them: they carried multiple machine guns to ward off attackers.
British bomber development was not far behind. In late 1937, the first Vickers Wellington appeared, boasting a speed of 230 mph and a phenomenal bomb load of 4500 lbs. Of geodetic construction and largely fabric-covered, the 'Wimpey' was a truly astounding aircraft, and would serve the RAF well for many years. She too carried defensive armament in nose and tail turrets.
It is pointless, perhaps, to attempt to freeze time in this way. Bomber development was amazingly rapid in all countries during the 1930s, In England this was prompted largely by Germany's increasingly aggressive behaviour. In addition to the Wellington, Britain introduced the Blenheim and Battle (both light bombers), and the Hampden and Whitley (medium bombers). The United States, with a wary eye on the growing military strength of Japan, was also building: the B-17 'Flying Fortress' flew (unimpressively) in prototype in 1935 and was in production in 1939, the B-24 'Liberator' flew in prototype in 1939, and the A-20 was in service with the French Armee de l'Air by early 1940. The German Heinkel He 111 joined the Do 17 in military use by 1937, and performed impressively with the Kondor Legion in Spain, where it was joined by the amazing Ju 87, the 'Stuka'.
Even more extraordinary was the development of a new generation of fighter aircraft. The Hawker 'Hurricane' and Supermarine 'Spitfire' in Britain, the Messerschmitt Bf 109 and Bf 110 in Germany, [12] and the Bell P-39 Airacobra, Curtiss P-40 and Lockheed P-38 'Lightning' in the U.S. were only some of the fighters developed during the late 30s. Even in their early versions, all but one of these were much faster than previous fighters, with maximum speeds ranging from 320-380 mph. The exception was the early Bf 109, at 292 mph, but by 1939 the 109E (the 'Emil') flew at over 350 mph. And this was just the beginning. Four days before the September 1, 1939 invasion of Poland, the first jet-powered aircraft was flown. It was German - a Heinkel 178.
In truth, the development of the stressed-skin, single-winged, multi-gunned fighter signalled the end of the bomber's invulnerability, though this was little understood or went unrecognized for some years to come. It was hard to consider the bombers vulnerable when unopposed swarms of Luftwaffe aircraft were reducing Warsaw to rubble.
Separate Visions: Britain and Germany
Germany's destiny, as proclaimed by her leader, was as a continental power with status commensurate with her genius and with sufficient lebensraum for the Volk, that semi-mythical assemblage of peoples who shared a cultural and linguistic base that far outstripped national boundaries. By the lights of the NSDAP, Germany's rightful coming of age was denied by the treachery of her politicians at a time when her army was at its height in 1918, and by the punitive nature of the Treaty of Versailles which established totally iniquitous war reparations. Only the will of the people, following a strong leader, could re-establish Germany's place, reunite the Germanic Volk, and overturn the treaty restrictions to lead the country into her rightful future. 'Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuhrer' was not just a Nazi slogan: it was a distillation of Germany's vision of her future.
The remilitarization of the Rhineland in violation of Versailles took place in1936, and Austria was quickly, dramatically and peacefully returned to the fold in the Anschluss (1938). The Sudetenland and the remainder of Czechoslovakia soon followed - to the lasting shame of Britain and France. But the Munich crisis of September, 1938, and Chamberlain's pathetic cry of "peace in our time", finally drew a line, at least with the people of Britain: after Munich, appeasement was a shameful word. When Hitler's eyes turned towards the ancient Hanseatic city of Danzig, France and Britain offered guarantees to Poland in the event of German aggression.
It may seem almost fatuous to state that Germany's armed forces were designed to attack. But the compelling vision of land and people first expounded in Mein Kampf made some sort of war probable if not inevitable. If the Reich could not grow peacefully, as it had in Austria and Czechoslovakia, then it must grow as the result of a test of wills. And the additional land required to provide lebensraum for the people must at any rate be obtained from others. To this end, the military forces of the Reich were geared for conquest, for the rapid and devastating subordination of the will of others to the requirements of the German people.
The first two 'blitzkriegs' - the assault across the plains of Poland and the magnificent armoured thrust through the Ardennes into the heart of France - demonstrated the efficacy of using armour, infantry, artillery and air bombardment in co-ordination. The Luftwaffe was not working independently; it was an extension of the artillery arm of the Wehrmacht. This is so whether it was razing Warsaw with wave upon wave of He 111s and Do 17s, using the Stukas to silence enemy strong points, or strafing troops and civilians with Bf 109s.
The May 14 bombing of Rotterdam, so roundly condemned by the allies, is the exception which proves the rule. The threat of bombing was certainly a bargaining chip in surrender discussions with Dutch officials. The raid itself was in all likelihood an accident hinging on a too-late recall and only partially successful attempts by German officers already in the city to signal the aircraft away. The use of glider troops in the spectacular assault on Eben Emael was much more in keeping with German tactical use of air power.
The Germans were, in other words, using their air component as a tactical arm. Their bombers - the Heinkels, the Dorniers, the Stukas - were neither designed nor intended for strategic use. When the time came for the air assault on Britain, the Luftwaffe had planes to spare, and they charged a frightful toll during the hard nights of 'the Blitz' from September, 1940 to May, 1941. But though their bomb capacity had increased quite dramatically, they were the wrong planes in the wrong hands. Goering and his advisors had neither the weapons nor the military insight to use the Luftwaffe in a strategic role.[13] This was so in 1940, and remained so to the end of the war. Tactically, the Wehrmacht remained the finest fighting force of the war until very near the end, in part because of its ability to co-ordinate various branches of arms, including the Luftwaffe.
Britain was in a very different situation from Germany. Together with her vast dominions and colonies - what she continued to consider her 'empire' - Britain had few wars to fight and little to prove. A relatively poor nation after the economic, social and cultural drains of World War 1, Britain maintained the appearance of the most powerful nation on earth through the inter-war years. Through bluff, arrogance and the traditions of enlightened leadership she had developed and continued to foster, Britain sought to maintain the status quo with as little inconvenience and expense as possible. Her military mirrored those aims. The Royal Navy had completed no major building programs, and relied on an aging fleet to keep the sea lanes open and to maintain a presence globally. Her army remained small by continental standards. Her air force was torn between the jingoistic need to justify its continued existence as an independent offensive service arm, as Arthur 'Boom' Trenchard had insisted upon since the end of World War I, and the more practical requirement of maintaining a defensive shield against aggression.
Germany's rise to power under the Nazis shook Britain's military and political leaders to the core. Particularly after the Munich crisis, when the probability of war became more certain, an Air Ministry assessment of military readiness was less than sanguine, indicating that both Fighter and Bomber Commands were unprepared for an early call to war.
Despite some innovative initiatives, neither command had sufficient trained pilots. In Bomber Command, this extended to all other air crew: gunners; navigators; wireless operators. The Voluntary Reserve, begun in 1937, had helped address the lack of pilots, but not nearly quickly enough. And although the RAF had a fine training school both for ground and air crew, the number of bodies completing the training was below requirements. Exacerbating this, there were insufficient aircraft to train even the pilots and crew they had. Aircraft in existing squadrons were being cannibalized to keep other planes in readiness; to remove yet more for training purposes could prove disastrous.
Bomber Command faced at least three additional difficulties. One was theoretical, and would remain so until the first days of the war: based on admittedly few training exercises, there was some indication that whenever bombers and fighter faced each other as adversaries the bombers would be bested. The second was largely technological: in 1939 there were no accurate, reliable navigation aids. In simple terms, how does a pilot bomb a target if he cannot find it? How does he find it at night? The third difficulty was related to the second. Even if reliable navigation devices had been available, pilots and navigators had simply not had enough experience flying through adverse weather to be successful in the range of conditions to be expected in northern Europe. Having been 'stood down' in inclement conditions during peacetime - a sensible precaution in terms of crew and aircraft safety, though not exactly forward-thinking when training for war - aircrew were totally unprepared for the seasonal hazards of fog, snow, ice and cold.
Whatever the British would learn in 1939 about the limitations of their own air power, there is every indication that they were still convinced of the devastating power of a strategic enemy air force. Between Munich and the beginning of the war, thousands of Anderson Shelters were distributed and erected in back yards across the nation. Plans were put in place for the evacuation of 1,500,000 children and mothers from London and other likely targets. So many deaths were expected from bombing that the cost of wood for coffins alone was deemed prohibitive, and it was decided that mass graves and burning with quick lime would provide the only option to the nation. [14]
The Phoney War: September, 1939-April, 1940
On the day after Britain declared war, two operations would provide evidence of how Bomber Command's three difficulties would affect strategic bombing, though it would take time for Air Ministry staff to read the entrails. Of 15 Blenheims sent to bomb warships at Wilhelmshaven on September 4, five never found the target, five were lost to enemy action, and five returned to base. On the same day, 14 Wellingtons were sent to Brunsbuttel, again against warships. Flying through severe weather conditions, only six found the target. One plane attacked with no success, three declined to attack in the face of heavy flak, and two were destroyed by Luftwaffe fighters. The verdict was in, though the Air Ministry would take some time to pronounce sentence.
One other issue arose during those first few months of conflict. In response to a September 1 request by President Roosevelt, Britain and France agreed to refrain from bombing undefended towns or targets where civilians could be injured. [15] This was confirmed by the British Cabinet on September 11. [16] Germany gave its support to Roosevelt's request September 18. Under this constraint, as interpreted by the RAF, a warship tied to a dock should not be attacked for fear bombs may hit the dock instead of the ship herself. This would continue even after the German invasion of Denmark and Norway in April, 1940: RAF bombers were abjured from endangering Norwegian or Danish soil or civilians, though their best chance of affecting the invasion forces was to attack them at the docks while they loaded troops.
Throughout the winter of 1939/40, weather permitting, Bomber Command remained active within the constraints. By day, Blenheims and Hampdens searched for German naval vessels at sea. By night, Wellingtons and Whitleys peppered the German countryside with propaganda leaflets. By April, 1940, when Air Marshall Portal became head of Bomber Command just days before the Norwegian campaign, certain facts were inescapable concerning the British bomber offensive:
1. British bombers had trouble finding their targets during daylight raids except in good weather.
2. British bombers who found their targets were ineffective in hitting them.
3. The delivery of bombs was severely hampered by target restrictions.
3. Many British bombs were 'duds', ineffective when they struck targets.
4. British bombers could not defend themselves adequately against flak or fighter opposition.
5. Alternative methods of delivering bombs (i.e., night bombing) compounded the difficulties of daylight bombing, and added the difficulties of night navigation, night bombing accuracy, and safe return to base.
Against this rather bleak catalogue, there was one glimmer of hope. Pilots and air crew were gaining valuable experience in night flying and navigation, and they were gaining familiarity with their equipment. Occasionally there were tremendous losses, particularly when bombers and fighters met. But morale remained high, and to the beginning of the Norwegian campaign losses to Bomber Command were only 4.1 percent. [17] The obverse was less comforting: there was very little offense in the bomber offensive.
At the same time, Britain could tally the German ledger and draw their own conclusions:
1. German bombers appeared to be effective in raids against cities (the destruction of Guernica was a still a recent event, and Warsaw had been severely battered).
2. German aircraft of all types had proved to be effective against forces in the field (as demonstrated by the rapidity of Poland's defeat).
3. German bombers seemed capable of finding and damaging their targets.
It is possible that Britain misread the auguries in all this. Guernica was, particularly in the scale of things in the broader war, a minor success against no air defense. Warsaw demonstrated the use of German bombers as long-range artillery, rather than providing proof that "the bomber would always get through". This may not have been obvious at the time: blitzkrieg was a new and frightening phenomenon, and the Germans were never slow to exaggerate their successes for propaganda purposes.
France and the Low Countries: May-June, 1940
When the Germans began their two-pronged attack on the West on May 10, plans were in place for the bombers. Ten squadrons of Fairey Battles in France, attached to the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) as the Advanced Air Strike Force (AASF), would provide tactical support to the army; they would be supported by the Blenheims of 2 Group, who would remain based in England. The 'heavies' (Hampdens, Wellingtons and Whitleys), their flight no longer restricted by the neutral air spaces over the Netherlands and Belgium, would disrupt communications and transportation directly behind the German front. Significantly, the 'heavies' were initially restricted to bombing west of the Rhine: the proscription against bombing undefended land and civilians remained in place until May 15, the day after German bombers hit Rotterdam.
The story of the AASP is a sorry one. The crews - they stand with the torpedo bomber crews at Midway - deserve far more recognition for their courage than they have received. Committed to daylight attacks, they were slaughtered in planes that had no business at the sharp edge of battle.
Counting aircraft destroyed or written off, 40 per cent of the Battle sortees had been lost on 10 May, 100 per cent on 11 May, 62 per cent on 12 May. Within forty-eight hours the number of serviceable bombers in the AASF had shrunk from 135 to 72. [18]
The Battles were withdrawn from daylight service on May 14, with losses at 50 percent.
The Blenheims of 2 Group fared better, but only marginally. On May 14, two squadrons (24 aircraft) attacked the bridgeheads near Sedan. Five were lost to flak, and two others made forced landings. Three days later, 82 Squadron lost 11 of 12 aircraft. Henceforth, the Blenheims would fly with fighter protection when available: for the RAF in May, 1940, unsupported daylight bombing finally became too expensive.
From May 15 to June 25, there was only one night when Bomber Command aircraft - predominantly 'heavies', though with some Blenheims - were not in the air. The rapid collapse of the Allied armies - Holland surrendered on May 14, Belgium on May 28, and the BEF was gone by June 4 - curtailed the strategic use of the 'heavies': they were directed to attack German troop concentrations as often as they attacked German industry and synthetic oil plants.
When they did bomb industrial targets, their success was often minimal. The operations for June 18/19 could be considered typical in many ways:
69 aircraft - 38 Whitleys, 26 Wellingtons, 5 Hampdens - were sent to oil targets at Hamburg, Bremen and in the Ruhr and to railways at many other places. 2 Whitleys and 1 Wellington were lost. Hamburg reports 9 fires, 6 of them large ones, 1 civilian killed and 6 injured. [19]
For the most part, the 'heavies' undertook night operations singly: a squadron may be assigned a target and an alternate, but each aircraft would often choose its route and time of departure. Formation flying was out of the question, and "streaming" was two years in the future. The 69 aircraft flying on June 18/19, it is worth noting, were attacking a number of targets over a large area.
On June 17, France sued for "peace with honour". The terms were ratified on June 21, to become effective June 25. The Battle of France was over.
As the RAF regrouped for the coming battle, there was little to cheer about. From all commands, total aircraft losses were close to 1000, with Bomber Command itself losing about 145. The lessons of the six weeks were very similar to those of the 'phoney war':
1. The light bombers of Bomber Command were outclassed and outdated.
2. Daylight bombing by 'heavies' could only be accomplished with adequate fighter coverage, except at the cost of prohibitive losses.
3. Night bombing cut the loss rate, but dramatically reduced the ability to find targets.
4. Night flying - navigation, target acquisition, return to base - remained challenging for all but the finest crews.
Crews that hit their targets at night were buoyed by their success, which was positive for morale. Also positive was the perceived lack of fighter threat at night. Flak, however, was considered fierce.
If the loss of aircraft were not enough, the cost in personnel was also high. Almost 700 aircrew lost their lives, and at least 230 were taken prisoner. This placed a tremendous burden on Training Command, who had to meet the dual challenge of rebuilding Bomber Command and strengthening Coastal Command while meeting the more urgent demands of Fighter Command, who would carry much of the burden in the coming weeks. The 'pipeline' of trained aircrew from the CATP was still a long way in the future.
Fighter Command
Whatever dates are chosen, the events of the summer of 1940 are normally described collectively as the Battle of Britain. Sometimes the start date is given as early July, with the start of what the Germans called the Kanelkampf (Channel Battle), the attempt to close the English Channel to British shipping. Others choose to mark the beginning at August 12, the eve of Adlertag (Eagle Day), when the Luftwaffe began its systematic attacks to eliminate the RAF from the skies of Britain. Some say the battle lasted only until September 6, after which the Luftwaffe concentrated on the bombing of London (and, later, other cities), while September 15 is celebrated as Battle of Britain Day. All agree that the Battle was over by September 17.
Or nearly all. Some claim that the Battle of Britain was a creation of Churchill's rhetoric, and was kept brief and shining to celebrate the bravery 'the Few' and manufacture a much-needed morale boost; some argue that the Germans continued to pound Britain with relative impunity until the spring of 1941 - the period the British call "the Blitz" - and that the attacks on Britain ceased only with the requirements for Barbarossa, the assault in the east originally set for May, 1941. By the lights of this last argument, it is as if there was never really a battle at all: it was a matter of expedience that, since the troops and planes were on the shores of the Atlantic and only 20 miles from England, Germany should test British mettle. Since the test was 'inconclusive', and since the troops and planes were needed elsewhere and Britain would in any case be starved by the U-boats and surface raiders, it was sensible to get on with more important matters. [20]
It seems plain, however, that - however bleak it was for Britain by September 15, whether for the military (totally defeated in France), the Royal Navy (unable to keep the Channel open, and with an immensely increased burden to assume) or the RAF (with Fighter Command losing the battle of numbers, particularly for pilots) - Britain had won a victory. The Wehrmacht wanted to invade, and was not given the opportunity; the Luftwaffe could not wipe the RAF out of the skies. By whatever name we call the struggle over England in the summer of 1940 - and "Battle of Britain" certainly seems both accurate and appropriate - the German armed forces had suffered their first reverse. In a contest of wills, Nazi Germany had not had its way.
The Boffins' War: Part I
While the Battle of Britain is not strictly speaking part of the bomber offensive, Bomber Command (together with Coastal Command) had its role to play. That role will be discussed in the next section. But at some point - and because of its central role in the Battle of Britain, this seems a suitable place - the most astounding device of the war must be introduced. That device is radar.
The British used the abbreviation RDF (Radio Direction Finding), either as a subterfuge or as a relatively accurate description of its function. The Americans called it radar, the name that - like flak for anti-aircraft fire - became an eponym. By whatever name it was called, it was one of the most astounding developments of the war, a development that kept pace with the war to provide ever more accurate means of finding, seeking, identifying and directing weapons of war.
England was neither the first nor the only nation to develop radar before the war. Germany had its Freya system, used to detect attacking RAF bombers in 1939, and its Würzburg, which was directing flak as early as May, 1940. At sea, the U.S. Navy was exploring radar to assist in battle manoeuvres, while the Germans had already equipped some of their ships with Seetakt. [21]
In Britain, RDF developed very quickly - and almost by accident. The time from the first exploration of the concept of radar to its overpoweringly incisive use during the Battle of Britain was only five years. For the British, however, the impact of radar hinged on four other factors: timing; location; IFF (another 'Boffin' development) and - to a large extent - serendipity. And without RDF Germany would have won the war against England in the summer of 1940.
Briefly, those four factors were as follows. First, Britain was still working out the bugs in their RDF in 1939. If the Germans had attacked prior to 1940, radar would not have been available. Secondly, the fact that Britain is an island, and knew where likely attack would come from made the placement of the Chain Home (CH) and Chain Home Low (CHL) stations much more effective. CH equipment was bi-directional: it did not have a moving head, and therefore could look only in one direction (e.g., West) and on the reciprocal (e.g., East), which was masked. Hence the need for the plethora of towers ringing the south and east coasts of the island. CHL radar had a rotating head, and was adapted from Royal Navy investigations in the field. Third, an electronic signature (IFF: Identification Friend or Foe) identifying a friendly aircraft allowed ground personnel to distinguish British fighters from intruders. Finally, the capabilities of RDF, primitive as they were in 1940, were combined with the dedication of the Observer Corps., a vast network of communications equipment, and surprisingly sophisticated evaluation, tracking and communications networks to place Fighter Command's 11 Group in the path of oncoming Germans. It provided Fighter Command with incredible advantages in the battle, and explains why Luftwaffe aircrew were amazed, day after day, at the appearance of "the last 50 Spitfires" the British could put in the air.
Radar, radar jamming and radar development will appear again and again in any narrative of the air war - or indeed most parts of the war. It improved night-fighter capabilities, searchlight and flak accuracy, defense against the U-boat, ship-to-ship gunnery, the development of proximity shells, aerial navigation, bomb delivery, and much else. Its discovery and development is one of the great stories of the war - as important in its own way as the Manhattan Project and the development of atomic weapons - and deserves separate attention. [22]
Bomber Command
Even before the fall of France, the Air Ministry met to create policy and directives for the coming battle. They were geared to an obvious end: to defeat enemy intentions in the immediate future. For Fighter Command, the requirement was clear: defend against the air assault that was imminent. For Bomber Command, the directives of June 20 were two-fold: medium bombers were to attack shipping, troop build-up and enemy airfields; 'heavies' were to focus upon enemy aircraft production. Other targets were indicated as well, and mine-laying ops ('gardening', in RAF slang), as opportunity arose.
For medium bombers, read Blenheims: the remnants of the 10 Battle squadrons assigned to AASF were re-entered on the strength of Bomber Command, but the aircrews were retrained for Wellingtons, while the Fairey Battles themselves were largely turned over to Training Command. [23]
The Blenheims were directed to operate only under the cover of cloud if unescorted, and their loss rate remained low under these conditions. When they were attacked by fighters, however, their loss rate soared.
Over the course of the summer, the directives received by Bomber Command would change with astonishing rapidity as new threats were perceived or new targets gained priority. July 4 brought a concentration on shipping targets; July 13 called for renewed assaults on aircraft production. In truth, Bomber Command was largely on the defensive, countering enemy moves, though as the summer stretched on the attacks on oil, aircraft factories and warships continued. Much of this activity was ineffective, and 'heavies' were losing more aircrew than were lost to the enemy as a result of their bombing.
The major turning point of the summer occurred when, after jettisoned German bombs fell on London, Churchill demanded a raid on Berlin in retaliation. To this point, Hitler had been firm in his refusal to allow Luftwaffe bombing of London. But the accidental or misdirected release of bombs on cities and towns was not that unusual despite prohibitions. Nevertheless, on the night of 25/26 August, Bomber Command conducted its first raid on Berlin.
As a raid, it was a failure. Berlin was shrouded in cloud and most of the bombs missed the city: there were only two recorded injuries resulting from the attack. Goering was humiliated by the raid, however, and Hitler was outraged, particularly when a further raid occurred on the last night of August. On September 7, the Luftwaffe was given the geen light and London came under bomber attack: 'the Blitz' had begun. [24]
At about the same time, the build-up of invasion barges was accelerating, and Bomber Command, with Coastal Command, was directed against the barges, troop assembly areas and other critical targets such as the Dortmund-Ems aqueduct. By September 21, Blenheims, Hampdens and Battles had destroyed just enough barges (about one-eighth the almost 1900 assembled) to discourage the Wehrmacht from attempting an invasion on the timetable first given by Hitler on 16 July. In effect, the invasion threat was over. The aerial assault on London would continue, and would spread to other British cities over the next eight months. The Battle of the Atlantic would continue (in the U-boats' favour) for the next two years. Allied troops would face the see-saw of North Africa, defeat in Greece and Crete, and humiliation in the Far East. The fall of Singapore would signal the end of empire. But for the moment, England was unconquered.
Ending the Year
While the threat of invasion was not entirely dissipated after September, there was sufficient photographic evidence to suggest that the Wehrmacht had been stood down. What remained was the Luftwaffe assault on British cities, which continued well into 1941. Before it ended, a host of cities - Southampton, Birmingham, Coventry, Liverpool, Glasgow, Plymouth, and Portsmouth among them - would feel the weight of German bombs. A new verb would be added to the language: 'to conventrize' or destroy a city by aerial bombardment.
In contrast to Bomber Command, the Luftwaffe had considerable success in finding and hitting its targets. The Germans had developed two techniques, Knickebein and X-Gerät, which were instrumental in bringing their bombers over the target. [25] Knickebein was relatively simple and used equipment already in place on German bombers. It was also relatively easy to disrupt, and the British were successful in jamming it quite early. X-Gerät, on the other hand, required more highly trained crews and more specialized equipment. It was also more difficult to jam, and the British were not truly successful until 1941. In 1940, the use of X-Gerät fell to KG 100 (Kampfgruppe 100), a specialist squadron who would mark the target for the following bomber stream.
In September, some saw Germany's assault upon London as an economic attack, trying to destroy the London docks (the great weight of the bombing was in the dock area). To others, the attacks were class-based, slaughtering the working poor and leaving the wealthy relatively unscathed (the working poor lived in the East End, in the vicinity of the docks). With the scope of German raids increasing to encompass the provincial cities, however, it became apparent that the attacks were simply designed to damage as many British cities and people as possible. The British were undergoing a form of 'area bombing', a type of bombing that the British were exploring for use by Bomber Command.
Area bombing, in its simplest form, is simply the bombing of an area of ground rather than a specific target. To this point in the war, the British had had no success with precision bombing: they lacked the bomb-sights and navigational skill which, together, were the only means of bombing precisely. They had no idea how inaccurate their bombing was; that would only be demonstrated late in 1941, with the Butts Report. By and large, British authorities believed, however erroneously, that if bomber crews could find their target they would hit the target. Perhaps they were assuming that they were having the same success the German bombers were enjoying, for the Germans were certainly hitting their targets.
On nights when targets were obscured by cloud or by lack of moonlight - in other words, on more than 75 per cent of the nights - Bomber Command attacks on generalized industrial targets became a permitted alternative. Since in wartime any industry can be deemed a war industry, large industrial areas are legitimate targets. Ancillary damage - damage to buildings adjacent or proximate to industry - may be regrettable, but is to be expected: collateral damage will always occur, with attendant loss of non-combatant life. Area bombing is, by definition, imprecise.
The issue becomes somewhat more complex if the focus of the attack is shifted even slightly. The people working in the industrial area may become the focus of the attack, using the argument that a war industry cannot produce without war workers. Killing the workers may indeed be a more effective means of slowing or halting production than destroying the plants. The death of workers then becomes not regrettable but a goal. This too is area bombing.
A third shift of focus is also possible. In total war, all enemy people are part of the war effort. Therefore any enemy person is a legitimate target. In effect, any place where there are concentrations of people becomes a legitimate target. This too is area bombing. But it may also be described as indiscriminate bombing.
Towards the end of 1940, questions concerning area bombing by Bomber Command were still largely theoretical: not until early 1942 did policy include area bombing as such. But those with power, or in a position to direct bombing policy, could see in 1940 the effect of Germany's air offensive, and could sense the strain on the morale of the British population. Popular history has it that British morale never broke, and this is largely correct, but it was cracked badly at Coventry and was put under severe strain elsewhere. The desire of these leaders, from Churchill down, to generate the same pressures on Germany, would be understandable. Their resolve could find its way into war directives against the enemy. The execution of these directives would depend on decisions made by Commander-in-Chief (C-in-C) Bomber Command.
Sir Charles Portal was C-in-C Bomber Command from April 4, 1940. He was promoted to Chief of Air Staff on October 4 of the same year. A strong supporter of area bombing, Portal was largely considered to be comfortable with the bombing of civilians. While C-in-C, he was undoubtedly aware of the ineffectiveness of current bombing policy, and was anxious to improve Bomber Command's success rate. He would carry this concern to his new posting.
Portal was replaced as C-in-C by Sir Richard Peirse, who was much more conservative. Coming to Bomber Command in October, 1940 from the Air Staff (where he had been Vice-Chief), he was convinced that current bombing practices were effective and should be continued. Peirse would carry Bomber Command through its worst period, and would be relieved of his command in early January, 1942. He would be replaced by Sir Arthur Harris.
Harris would take command at a time when new bombers, new equipment and new weapons were finally coming on-stream. He would remain C-in-C until the end of the war. We will return to "Bomber" Harris later.
The State of Bomber Command
The final three months of 1940 were months of trial for Bomber Command. Air Ministry directives continued to direct its aircraft against the same targets it had had in the past. The October 30 directive mentions minelaying; rail yards; selected Italian industrial areas; and synthetic oil production facilities. To these it added an additional target - general industrial areas - for nights when cloud cover might obscure specific targets. If the aim of bombing synthetic oil facilities was to reduce the oil available to Germany, the aim of hitting general industrial areas was to show the strength, power and destructive capabilities of the RAF.
Unfortunately, Bomber Command was in no condition to meet the directives. Added to the by now familiar litany of difficulties - targeting problems, navigation difficulties, night landing fears, need for fighter escort, and weather challenges - was the problem of staffing.
RAF losses since May had been large, and not just in Bomber Command. Fight Command had lost heavily in the hard fighting against the Luftwaffe. Pilots were the main concern; but ground crew had been hit hard as well during German attacks on the Fighter stations of 11 Group. Coastal Command, faced with a massive increase in the area for which it was responsible, was desperate for multi-engined pilots.
Bomber Command was in no better shape. From July to October, 246 aircraft were lost, over 100 more than the 143 lost in May and June. In addition, the Battles were gone, and the replacement Wellingtons were slow in coming. Planes and crews were drained to support North Africa and Greece. OTUs needed experienced crews for training, and Coastal Command would borrow crews and planes whenever possible.
Nevertheless, Bomber Command attempted to meet the directive of October 30. Still optimistic that they could damage Germany's war-making capacity, they pressed on with precision attacks on synthetic oil facilities and other military targets. Nuisance raids were sent to Berlin, to little effect. Of significance, however, is that area bombing of civilians was not pressed, either because Portal was still prepared to try precision bombing or because Peirse chose targets - such as coastal cities - which could be found more easily and therefore bombed more precisely. Only once, at Mannheim on 18/19 December, was an urban civilian area targeted, in response to the razing of Coventry.
Show Part 1 Notes
If 1940 was a bad year for Britain, 1941 was worse. A brief list of major war-related events shows how pressed the British were:
Increased activity in the
Atlantic came close to overwhelming the British lifeline.
The German air assault on
British cities continued to May 16, with little hindrance. [1]
The British were driven
out of Greece. [2]
The British were driven
out of Crete, with substantial military and naval losses.
The war in North Africa
(the Desert War) went sour with the German introduction of what the allies call
"The Afrika Corps".
The British were under
tremendous pressure in Iraq and the Lebanon.
On May 24, Hood was blown
up, with only three crew members surviving, while engaged at long range by
Bismark and Prince Eugen. While Bismark was eventually sunk, the RN did not
find Prince Eugen.
Though elements of the RN
had two singular successes at Taranto and off Matapan, the Mediterranean was,
in effect, closed to British convoys to Malta from Gibraltar and Alexandria.
This allowed the Germans and Italians to supply their North African forces
almost at will. [3]
On December 10, Prince of
Wales and Repulse were sunk off Malaya by Japanese aircraft.
There were some positive developments as well, though some of them did not appear as such at the time:
On June 22, the Wehrmacht
invaded the Soviet Union, expecting a quick and decisive victory. This provided
Britain with an ally that was expected to fall to the Wehrmacht in six weeks.
[4]
On July 8, Churchill and
President Roosevelt met in Argentia Bay, Newfoundland. From this meeting came
the Atlantic Charter. [5]
President Roosevelt
increased American presence in the Atlantic, and was supported by Admiral King,
who placed his forces on an "all but war" footing.
On December 7, the
Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour, forcing the Americans into a war with Japan.
Meeting a commitment he had made to the Japanese ambassador earlier in the
year, and despite advice to the contrary, on December 11 Adolf Hitler declared
war on the United States, thus bringing the U.S. into the European war.
These events form the backdrop against which Bomber Command played its role in 1941. It was the hardest year that Bomber Command was to face.
Strategically, the goals of Bomber Command did not change with the changing year. Synthetic oil production facilities continued to receive top priority early in the year because it was thought Germany's oil supplies were dwindling. Enemy-held ports and harbours ; always the easiest targets to find ; continued to receive attention. General industrial areas were still target options when weather or ground haze made precision bombing impossible. During the long winter months in northern Europe, there were many nights when industrial urban targets were the only ones that were realistically available.
Operationally, however, Bomber Command's targets shifted according to the requirements of the nation or the whim of its leaders. By late February, the slaughter of merchant ships in the Atlantic, coupled with the continued threat posed by Kriegsmarine surface vessels ( Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, and Tirpitz were the main concern), caused new directives to be issued for bomber assaults on U-boat pens and capital ships along the entire Atlantic coastline, from Norway to the Bay of Biscay. The Blenheims, for their part, were to share their time between "hit-and-run" raids ("Circuses") against towns in France and the Low Countries and ; after the end of April ; attacks on enemy coastal shipping ("Channel Stop").
From mid-March until the middle of the summer, the "heavies" of Bomber Command, working with Coastal Command, were active over many Atlantic coast ports. The impact of this attention may be inferred, though not really proven, by the sharp decline in merchant shipping losses to U-boats by early July. On July 9 a new directive returned Bomber Command to its primary task of bombing German industry.
The directive might be new, but little else was. Bomber Command itself was not growing rapidly enough to mount large-scale attacks. Bomber crews still had no reliable navigation aids. It still found daylight raids, when it tried them, prohibitively costly in machines and men. It still had no means of bombing a target accurately once the bombers found it. It was still constrained by the lack of trained air- and ground crew.
However., while the bombers continued their (largely ineffectual) assault on Europe, the very nature of the air war was changing.
The Development of the Night Fighter
Throughout the first two years of the war, bomber crews noted that, whatever other difficulties arose from night bombing ; navigation, bomb aiming, returning to base safely ; there were few fighters to contend with, though flak appeared heavy, and was disturbingly accurate. This changed at the end of June, 1941, when German night fighters appeared, and had considerable effect almost immediately.
We tend to forget how immensely large the sky is. Even setting the ceiling at only 20,000 feet ; an acceptable operational altitude in the early war years ; it is possible for two planes to be within very few miles of one another on a clear day and not see one another. [6] Add the cloak of darkness and a blacked-out landscape and the task is multiplied a thousand-fold.
Both British and German air forces had experimented with night fighters early in the war. Both began by using fighters, in part because of the speed necessary not just to find but to close with an enemy intruder. For the most part, these early attempts involved simply placing an aircraft in the skies during a raid and hoping it would be able to find the enemy. Needless to say, this didn't work. The solution, both sides knew, was airborne radar. As early as June, 1940, the British had developed a primitive air-borne radar unit, but there was no aircraft in the British arsenal that was both big enough to carry the unit and fast enough to catch German bombers.
After the fall of France, the onset of mass bombing taught Germans and British alike that daylight bombing must give way to night raids. As a result, efforts to develop effective night fighter capabilities increased on both sides.
The man assigned the job of establishing night fighter defences for Germany was General Josef Kammhuber, appointed in October, 1940. He created a formidable night fighting structure that, with variations, was to challenge Bomber Command from 1941 to 1944. It was known to the allies as the Kammhuber Line. It relied on radar.
The Kammhuber line was a series of "boxes" set approximately 20 miles apart, stretching from Denmark to the Bay of Biscay. Each box contained three radar units ; one Freya unit, for long-range detection of incoming planes, and two short-range Würzburg units, one for tracking the raider and the other for tracking the night fighter. Ground controllers would interpret the signals from the Würzburg units and direct the night fighter towards intercept. The size of the box was determined by the effective reach of the radar involved.
While this method was inefficient in terms of radar equipment, night fighters and qualified ground controllers ; the controller could handle only one intercept at a time ; it provided an effective means of countering what to the Germans were increasingly irritating raids by Bomber Command. In 1941, given Bomber Command's practice of sending relatively small numbers of aircraft against targets, German night fighter techniques were efficient enough to cause Bomber Command legitimate concern over the increasing loss rate for bombers after June, 1941.
The Butt Report
To date, Bomber Command had no real means of determining the success rate of its operations. Air crew were bringing back glowing reports of fires raised, damage done and targets destroyed, though independent sources were providing a much less sanguine picture. Air Ministry and Bomber Command officials were not unaware of the discrepancies. But means of verification were slow to develop. It was not until 1941 that effective cameras were mounted on a sufficient number of bombers to give some means of assessing how the war was being executed.
Preliminary assessments of raid photos were not encouraging, but had not received comprehensive attention. Lord Cherwell, [7] Churchill's personal scientific advisor, suggested a systematic review of the photographs by a disinterested official, and the Butt Report was born. D.M. Butt, of the War Cabinet Secretariat, reviewed over 600 operational photos, comparing them with crew claims and Bomber Command assessments.
The results of the Butt Report, ready in August, 1941, were not at all encouraging. It provided evidence, literally in black-and-white, not only that Bomber Command's offensive was ineffective but that the training and capabilities of most of its air crew were well below acceptable levels.
The impact of the Butt Report was to be much farther-reaching than was at first evident. Bomber Command was surprisingly ready to accept the findings and to begin looking for solutions that would lead to improvement. But beginning with the Butt Report, a pronounced scepticism at the highest levels was to dog Bomber Command from this time forward: Churchill, who in October, 1940, saw the bomber as the only arm of victory, would never again fully trust Bomber Command pronouncements or claims. With the German invasion of the Soviet Union, Churchill saw another means ; however shaky at present, with the Soviet military being driven back closer and closer to Moscow and Leningrad ; by which Germany could be defeated.
Bomber Command leaders would place increasing demands for accuracy and results on their air crews, while choosing more demanding targets for their crews to attack. The air crews themselves, shaken by Butt's findings, would suffer a crisis of confidence, and would also push themselves and their planes to the limit to prove that they were having a positive effect on the war effort. In September of 1941, Bomber Command remained England's only offensive weapon. [9]
New Weapons
In 1941, a new generation of weapons was being introduced to Bomber Command. New bombs were being developed, as the deficiencies of (until then) standard ordnance were no longer accepted. At the same time, new bombers were beginning to appear at the squadron level. While neither the bombs nor the aircraft which appeared in 1941 marked the end of weapons development, their appearance and capabilities pointed the way to a harsher air war over Europe. The more critical need ; for even rudimentary navigational devices ; would not be met for another year, while the myriad developments in radar were still largely to come.
Bombs
The science of bombing ; if one can call the ability to kill people more effectively a science ; grew more sophisticated during 1941, though not to the level it would obtain later in the war. In effect, there were three basic types of bombs: high explosive; incendiary; and (although they were called GP, for General Purpose) anti-personnel. In 1939, the standard 250 lb. GP bomb dropped by the RAF was ineffective. It was too small to do the requisite amount of damage, and a great many of them were defective. The GP was replaced by a 500 lb. bomb, known as a "medium capacity" bomb. A new incendiary was also developed. The largest bomb in the arsenal grew to 4,000 lb.
Without going into detail, new bombs were seen as a necessary development. Starting in September, 1940, Britain¹s leaders had learned a great deal about bombing: they had seen the impact of high explosives on London. The devastation caused by "land mines", the susceptibility of tightly-packed buildings to incendiaries, and the tension surrounding the use of "delayed action" bombs were duly noted. They recognized that the new "medium capacity" bomb could do a better job of opening the hearts of cities. They knew at first hand that more effective incendiaries could better exploit the increased targeting of civilian or non-industrial properties. New "heavies" were coming on line, capable of carrying a much larger bomb load. By the end of the war in Europe, when the weight of a bomb was still more important than TNT equivalency, Bomber Command would be carrying specialized bombs as heavy as 22,000 lb.
Later in the war, the bombing procedure was almost performed by rule of thumb: "open" the target with high explosives in the first wave, "exploit" the opened areas with incendiaries in the second, and "hamper" the civil defence workers with anti-personnel bombs, mixed with other types, in the third. The only questions were centred on percentages of bomb type by wave, the percentage of delayed-action bombs to be dropped, and the timing between waves. In 1941, however, Bomber Command had neither the aircraft nor the navigational skills to generate waves of bombers. That particular refinement was still in the future.
New Heavy Bombers
In 1936, the Air Ministry had issued Specifications P/13/36 and B/12/36 for four- and two-engined bombers categorized as "heavy" or "medium heavy". Based on wind-tunnel testing and prototype flights, three companies ; Short (the "Stirling"), Handley-Page (the "Halifax") and Avro (the "Manchester") ; were given funding to develop a new generation of "heavy" bombers for the RAF. Squadrons were being equipped with the new aircraft by late 1940, though none flew on operations until 1941.
With the hindsight of sixty years it is hard to appreciate the enormous strides that the new "heavies" represented. For those of us accustomed to travel by jet, the new "heavies" would appear puny and primitive indeed. But they were an enormous advance in nearly every sphere, including size, number of crew, bomb load, armament and avionics (if such a word existed in 1941), compared with even a fine aircraft like the Wellington, whose design was only four years older.
The table below lists some of the "vital statistics" by which bombers can be compared. I have included "marks" of the Wellington and the Heinkel operational in 1940 for points of comparison, and have used data only for the first "marks" of the new "heavies".
Without belabouring statistics or checking percentages of aircraft types included in the numbers given above, it is (roughly) acceptable to assume 4.5 air crew per aircraft (Blenheims carried three, Whitleys five, and Wellingtons six; the new "heavies" carried seven or eight). This means that about 2,400 men may have lost their lives in these 126 days. Some, of course, would have had the honour of being guests of the Third Reich. Some would escape, though chances were very slight. Significantly, however, the statistics record aircraft losses, rather than crew. And for the most part, the men continued to fly.
In the cold light of reality, bombers would continue to fly and air crew would continue to die. The question, to put it bluntly, is: what were they dying for? This is not as facile a question as it first appears. In truth, the air crew were trapped in the horrible gulf between an idea (to assault the Germans by day and night) and a reality (the assault is ineffective). They were also caught between the needs of government and the expectations of Bomber Command. They were the tools by which Bomber Command doctrine and commitment were determined, and upon which careers and reputations depended. And from late June of 1941 ; and more intensely after the Butt Report in August ; Bomber Command doctrine was being questioned by both the War Cabinet and the Air Ministry.
The issue came to a head in the final two months of 1941. The raids of 7/8 November
are often seen as the catalyst. On the surface the raids appear fairly
straight-forward. Max Hastings (Bomber Command, p. 126) offers the simplest
version, though his last sentence is chilling:
On the night of 7 November 37 aircraft were lost out of 400 dispatched. 12.5 per cent of those sent to Berlin, 13 per cent of those sent to Mannheim and 21 per cent of those sent to the Ruhr failed to return. Only those sent to targets in France came home relatively unscathed.
Including those aircraft which had crashed inside England, the entire front line of Bomber Command had been statistically wiped out in less than four months.
Denis Richards (The Hardest Victory, p. 100) offers a much fuller story, and includes details of the weather:
No fewer than 169 [bombers] took off for Berlin, and 223 for other targets. But the weather proved too formidable; of the Berlin contingent, fewer than a half reached their objective, and those did little damage. The German capital was in any case at extreme range for the Wellingtons and Whitleys which formed the bulk of the force; and with much more thick, ice-laden cloud and higher winds on the return journey than had been forecast, it was not only the inexperienced pilots who found their petrol running dangerously low. Of the 169 aircraft sent to Berlin, 21 ; a shocking 12.5 per cent ; failed to return. ...
The losses on the Berlin raid, however, were not the only disaster on 7/8 November. Fifty-five aircraft took off for Mannheim ; seven (13 per cent) did not return. Another 43 went to the Ruhr, or mining; nine (21 per cent) were reported missing. Only the 133 sent against the nearer targets ; Cologne, Ostend and Boulogne ; got home intact.
The loss of 37 bombers in a single night ; more than twice a many as in any previous night's operations ; naturally resulted in enquiries.
Finally, Martin Middlebrook (Bomber Command War Diaries, pp. 217-18) details losses by aircraft type, and includes results from later research. His full entry for 7/8 November runs almost two pages. Below are excerpts:
BERLIN
169 aircraft ; 101 Wellingtons, 42 Whitleys, 17 Stirlings, 9 Halifaxes ; of 1, 3 and 4 Groups. 21 aircraft ;10 Wellingtons, 9 Whitleys, 2 Stirlings ; were lost, 12.4 per cent of those dispatched.
73 aircraft reached the general area of Berlin but could only claim fires on the outskirts of the city... . This was the last major raid on Berlin until January 1943.
MANNHEIM
53 Wellingtons and 2 Stirlings of 1 and 3 Groups. 7 Wellingtons lost.
43 crews bombed in this area and reported a large fire. A specific request to Mannheim [presumably made after the war] for a report for this particularly important night brought the reply that there was no record of any bombs falling in the city. It is not known where the bombs of this force fell.
...Total effort for the night: 392 sorties, 37 aircraft (9.4 per cent) lost. This loss was more than double the previous highest for night operations. It is probable than many of the casualties crashed in the North Sea, suffering from icing or fuel exhaustion in the bad weather conditions there.
The raid is worth looking at in such detail because it gives us a look at a major undertaking by 1941 standards, and measures (to some extent) Bomber Command's success. Of 224 aircraft sent against Berlin and Mannheim, only 116 ; a mere 52 per cent ; claimed to find their target. Twenty-eight aircraft (12.5 per cent) were lost: a total of 163 crew. As a result of the bombing, Berlin suffered 11 killed, 44 injured, and 637 bombed out and receiving official aid. Only 30 buildings, all houses, were declared destroyed, though more, including 16 wooden garden houses and one farm building, were damaged. Mannheim, as Middlebrook points out, has no record of an air attack on this date. There was nothing comforting to Bomber Command in any aspect of the raid.
Secondly, it introduces a further element ; weather ; which plays a large role in the outcome of this particular raid. Weather conditions affected many Bomber Command attacks between 1939 and the end of 1941, because weather hampered navigation and target location. In this raid, 57 per cent did not find Berlin, and 12 per cent did not find Mannheim. On 7/8 November, weather conditions were marginal at best, and may have been worsening, particularly given the distance to Berlin. Indeed, 5 Group had its Hampdens redirected to Cologne because of the worsening weather, which included stronger than anticipated head-winds on the return journey coupled with icing conditions.
Both Richards and Middlebrook suggest the weather played a role in the high loss rate, and they are undoubtedly correct. Yet it is worth noting that no planes are recorded as crashing in Britain ; as might be expected, given fuel limitations while trying getting back to base against head-winds ; though these data were recorded. [13]
Between them, the War Cabinet and the Air Ministry responded quickly to the events of 7/8 November. Within a week, a new directive was delivered to Bomber Command, invoking the need for restraint in target choice when factors (e.g., weather and distance) were adverse. In fact, the directive called for a scaling back of the bomber offensive, until weather and new equipment improved the possibilities for effective attacks. Even without knowing the ineffectiveness of their strikes, it was deemed unacceptable that Bomber Command should suffer such high loss rates.
Peirse, C-in-C of Bomber Command, felt that the capabilities of his air crew had been called into question, and argued that it would be counter-productive to limit the scope, size or timing of his assault. Indeed, he may have committed his forces to the raids of 7/8 November to prove that his command would not be deterred by weather. But in the face of the Butt Report and the coolness shown by Churchill and others to the claims for the bomber offensive, Peirse's response to this latest directive, while understandable, was dangerous.
Portal, until recently C-in-C of Bomber Command and now Chief of Air Staff at the Air Ministry, would not leave the matter alone. Through November and December, he checked statements and facts and weather data. By the end of the year, he had determined that Peirse was guilty of an error in judgment. He presented his findings to Churchill on January 4, 1942. Peirse was relieved of command four days later.
By the end of 1941 the war had broadened immeasurably. The United States and Japan had entered the war, making it truly global. But at home, Britain still had only one offensive weapon: Bomber Command. And the efficacy of the command was under intense and continuing scrutiny: the events of 1941 had so discredited Bomber Command claims that it would never fully recover. After a very rocky start in 1942, Bomber Command would go on to great heights, though never to the heights it claimed. After 1941, nobody in Britain outside Bomber Command was convinced it could do the job it had set itself.
Show Part 2 Notes
Footnotes
[1]. The British were attempting to develop night fighter capability, but without a good balance of aircraft and radar they were unable to mount an effective counter-offensive. An early air-borne radar device had been mounted in Blenheims as early as 1940, but the aircraft itself was too slow to intercept any intruders it detected.
[2]. Churchill was acting on commitments made to the Greek government. While it was fighting only the Italians, invading through Albania, the Greek government rejected his offer of assistance, but it changed its mind when German troops loomed to the north. The troops sent by Churchill were insufficient, ill-equipped, and unable to staunch the German onslaught.
[3]. That Malta remained unconquered is miraculous. For the British the three naval bases covering the Mediterranean ; Gibraltar in the west, Malta in the centre, and Alexandria in the east ; were a key to the shipping lifeline from India, Australia and New Zealand. Without this, shipments would have to circumnavigate South Africa and face the perils of the southeast Atlantic. The siege of Malta, and the difficulty in supplying this small island, meant that ; at least in the western half of the Mediterranean ; the Germans and Italians were virtually unopposed in ferrying supplies to North Africa.
[4]. Churchill, though always a staunch anti-Bolshevik, immediately made common cause with the Soviet Union, offering whatever assistance was possible. The Soviets were allies of necessity; Churchill is known to have said that if Hitler attacked Hell, he (Churchill) would have at least a few good words to say for the Devil.
[5]. In many ways, the meeting was not a success. Britain (and many military officials in the U.S.) felt that the announcements from the meeting would bring the U.S. close to war footing with Germany. Roosevelt was unprepared to go that far; he had a good reading of the American political pulse. The Atlantic Charter provided the framework for the United Nations.
[6]. I recently flew along the fringe of a torpedo test range in a small float-plane, a De Havilland "Beaver", during a training exercise. I watched an Orion make its pass and climb in front of my aircraft, and watched a helicopter dropping smoke buoys. My companion saw none of it, and accused me of inventing the story merely to add some excitement to the flight.
[7]. Lord Cherwell, when still Professor Lindemann, had endeared himself to Churchill many years before the war, and unfortunately his statements carried a great deal of weight. His was not a first-class scientific mind; his chief failings were his inability to listen to others and his insistence that his ideas must have merit. His obstructionism came close to derailing the investigation of radar in 1936, and there were countless other instances where his opinions were counterproductive. His suggestion for an evaluation of bomber success was nevertheless right on the money.
[8]. I have drawn heavily on Denis Richards, The Hardest Victory, p. 96, for information concerning the findings of the Butt Report. See also Max Hastings, Bomber Command, pp. 108-9.
[9]. The army, leavened by strong contingents of commonwealth and colonial troops, was fighting for its life in North Africa. Initially very successful against the Italian army, who proved incapable of giving Mussolini his day on a white charger, the British forces were gutted by Churchill¹s political decision to assist Greece, under (unsuccessful) assault by Il Duce¹s troops operating out of Albania and threatened by Wehrmacht forces to the north. The troops sent to Greece were insufficient both in numbers and in supply, and were driven first to Crete (a second Dunkirk?) and then, after a successful Luftwaffe paratroop invasion, to Alexandria (a third?). The troops remaining in Africa were insufficient in skill and logistics to confront the superior tactical abilities of Erwin Rommel, who was sent to Africa to support the Italians, and who drove the British back almost to Alexandria.
The Royal Navy, on the other hand, has much to answer for. Putatively the world¹s greatest navy, it had contributed little to the first two years of the war. The RN had a large array of capital ships, resting ; as they had during the Great War ; at Scapa Flow. They had a vast number of ships at sea ; corvettes and trawlers and minesweepers ; attempting to cover the lack of foresight characteristic of the Admiralty, which had proclaimed that the anti-submarine weapons of the last war would be more than adequate for the present one.
The RN had had its successes, at Montevideo (Graf Spee) and in the Atlantic (Bismark), and its Mediterranean fleet had achieved excellent results at Taranto and off Matapan. But it had also taken heavy losses during the Norwegian campaign and elsewhere. In the western Mediterranean, for example, the RN received a battering attempting to convoy supplies to Malta. And in one of its primary roles ; maintaining Britain¹s lifeline of merchant ships ; the RN proved itself but a pathetic remnant of its former self. It could not keep the Channel open (and asked the Blenheims to do the job of clearing German shipping), dared not attack Scharnhorst and Gneisenau while at Brest (and asked Bomber Command to sink them) and could not stop them from sailing through the Channel in daylight (and asked Bomber and Coastal Commands to do so), and was afraid of Tirpitz (and asked Bomber Command to disable her). It is little wonder that Bomber Harris told the Admiralty, rather acerbically, that he would take care of its problems "when he had a minute".
There are some excellent publications dealing with life in the "Andrew" during the war ; one that comes to mind is Heart of Oak, by Tristan Jones ; but they have received little attention. There is a great story dealing with RN weaknesses during the war. It is waiting to be told.
[10]. It is interesting to note that writers from Australia, New Zealand and Britain speak of the Empire Air Training Scheme (EATS), while Canadians speak either of the Commonwealth Air Training Program (CATP) or, more formally, of the British Commonwealth Air Training Program (BCATP).
[11]. Other commonwealth nations did not wring any concessions from Britain. Their pilots were part of the RAF command structure, and were placed where they were needed. There is a touch of bitterness in some current information about how Commonwealth air crew were treated under RAF command.
[12]. Flt/Sgt Geoffrey B. Whyte, for example, enlisted on September 14, 1940, graduated from Basic Gunnery School on June 23, 1941, and flew on his first raid (against Essen) on 5/6 June, 1942. Nine months were given over to basic instruction, but an additional 11 months elapsed before his first op.
[13]. It is difficult to establish exact numbers of aircraft losses, because the methods by which they were counted or excluded have never, to my knowledge, been clarified. Middlebrook separates losses from crashes on returning to England, and has a separate category for aircraft shot down over England by intruders (i.e., enemy night fighters). His numbers do not always tally in specifics with other sources of information, but this may reflect more on the quality of the original data than on the veracity of any source.
1942 Synopsis
At the end of 1941, the allies could only look forward to better times. Yet the early months of 1942 dealt them severe blows on nearly every front:
the
Royal Navy was humiliated (on February 12) when Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and
Prinz Eugen sailed through the English Channel in daylight, despite RN and RAF
attempts to stop them.
Singapore
fell to the Japanese on February 15 (Hong Kong had already fallen, on Christmas
Day, 1941), effectively bringing to an end the British Empire.
the
Philippines fell (April 9), eradicating the American presence in the south and
west Pacific.
in
North Africa and the Mediterranean, Rommel remained a great threat (Tobruk fell
on June 21), and Malta was under unbreakable siege and was threatened with
invasion.
a
so-called "dress rehearsal" for the invasion of Europe ended in slaughter at
Dieppe (August 19, 1942).
renewed
German assaults against the Soviet Union conquered vast new territory.
U-boats
came close to taking control of the Atlantic and the American Atlantic coast,
in a period known to the Kriegsmarine as "the Happy Time".
convoys
to Murmansk and Archangel continued to be decimated by air and sea attacks.
Japanese
advances threatened Australia.
The
Japanese Imperial Navy drove the RN from Ceylon without challenge (March 31);
the RN took refuge in the Persian Gulf (April 10).
the
"Baedeker" raids (from April 24) began as reprisal raids for Bomber Command
bombing of German cities.
On the other hand, later in 1942 and in the first days of 1943, events occurred which gave clear indication that the allied cause was, if not safe, then in the ascendant. Many are known by single names:
Midway
(June 4-7, 1942: Spruance inflicted a crushing defeat on the Japanese Imperial
Navy).
Guadalcanal
(US Marines landed on 7 August, 1942).
El
Alamein (Montgomery's troops attacked the Germans on October 23, 1942).
"Torch"
(allied troops landed at three locations in North Africa, beginning November
7/8, 1942).
Leningrad
(the siege was broken on January 11, 1943)
Stalingrad
(von Paulus finally surrendered at the end of January, 1943).
Closer to the war in Europe, events reflected the growing ability of the allies to take the offensive:
The
first elements of 8th USAAF arrived in England in 1942, and a massive growth
slowly followed it.
Bomber
Command was able to mount three 1,000 bomber raids against Germany.
Navigational,
bombing and other aids were developed and refined.
Despite
initial setbacks while it met its own needs, the United States was able to
continue to provide Britain and the Soviet Union with war supplies and
material.
The Fiasco of "the Channel Dash"
Between the departure of Peirse (January 8) and the arrival of Harris (Feb. 22), Bomber Command was under the interim command of Air Vice-Marshal Baldwin, commander of 3 Group. It was on Baldwin's "watch" that Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen humiliated the Royal Navy by sailing in daylight through the English Channel from Brest on their way to safer harbours.
Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had arrived in Brest in April, 1941, where Prinz Eugen joined them on June 1 after separating from Bismarck on May 24. Because of the threat to shipping they represented, their presence was of great concern to the Admiralty. Bomber Command had attacked them countless times since their arrival, without success, though 22 Squadron of Coastal Command had disabled Gneisenau in a suicidal torpedo raid on April 6, 1941
When the German ships sailed from Brest just before midnight on February 11, they did so with a modest escort of 13 motor torpedo boats and five destroyers, and with expectation of air cover for most of their journey. They sailed in foul weather ; a sensible precaution ; and they steamed into the English Channel.
The Royal Navy did not see them. Coastal Command did not spot them (reportedly because of problems with their air-to-ship radar). The radar stations along the coast of Britain noted them and ignored them. Not until 11:30 a.m., when the ships were almost entering the Straits of Dover, were they spotted accidentally by a pilot with Fighter Command and reported to the authorities. Two hours later, at 1:35 p.m., the first aircraft of Bomber Command were airborne: by this time Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen were through the Straits of Dover. Between 3:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m., 242 sorties were flown by Bomber Command against the ships, though many aircraft could not locate them because of the inclement weather. In addition, elements of Coastal and Fighter Command, together with Fleet Air Arm "Swordfish", joined in the attack. So did the Royal Navy, with World War I destroyers and MTBs. No damage was inflicted. Only later did Scharnhorst and Gneisenau strike mines dropped by 5 Group aircraft and incur some damage. By daybreak of 13 February all three ships were safe in German ports.
"The Channel Dash" was a tremendous blow to the prestige of the Royal Navy: the English Channel was, after all, the closest of 'home waters', and the RN clearly did not control it. The 'dash' was also one more all-too-familiar blow to Bomber Command, which demonstrated once again that it had no means of navigating or target-finding in poor weather and no ability to press home a strike against targets that were heavily defended (as these ships undoubtedly were).
It is reasonable to ask how this could have happened. The first answer must be that the Royal Navy was husbanding its resources. It had been late in realizing the vulnerability of its capital ships to air attack and to plunging fire, but by early 1942 it had lost a number of ships ; Hood, Prince of Wales, Repulse and Glorious among them ; to one type of attack or the other. Despite the threat to Britain implicit in Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen, Sir Dudley Pound, First Sea Lord, was unwilling or unable to commit his capital ships to a test of fire. Instead, he chose to leave the work to smaller ships and to the RAF.
The Admiralty knew that the German ships were to be moved from Brest, surmised the move would be in February, and forecast that they would take the direct route through the Channel to Germany. Under the provisions of Operation 'Fuller', set up to counter the expected German move, Bomber Command aircraft were placed on two-hour alert, though on February 10, largely because of the bad weather, this was reduced to 100 aircraft on four-hour alert. Meanwhile, Coastal Command had issued an advisory stating that weather conditions would be favourable for a break-out beginning on February 10. At the same time, it was relatively plain that after February 17 the combination of tides, moon and lengthening hours of daylight would make the break-out from Brest much less attractive to the Germans.
Once they left Brest, there is no conceivable explanation why Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen were not sighted long before they reached Dover. By that time, the three ships had been in the Channel for 12 hours. Granted, the weather was poor: that is why Coastal Command issued its advisory. But it remains a mystery how a combination of radar surveillance, Coastal Command reconnaissance and RN patrols could miss 21 ships doing what was expected of them at a time and place that was quite accurately determined. [1]
Admiralty and Air Ministry were to hurl accusations at each other over the fiasco, though in truth there was enough blame to go around. As a measure of Britain's ability to make war, the 'Channel Dash' placed British forces under a frightening microscope. The Royal Navy had implied by its inactivity that it was afraid to fight, and the RAF had provided a demonstration that it didn't have the tools to do so. After an initial spate of newspaper reports ; entirely negative and occasionally scathing ; severe restrictions were placed on the press in the interests of public morale.
Before the end of February, Bomber Command would finally catch up with Gneisenau at Kiel, inflicting severe damage and effectively knocking her out of the war. This attack killed 116 of her crew; the British had lost 127 aircraft in raids on Brest attacking the German warships in the months before the 'Channel Dash'.
After the disastrous Berlin/Mannheim raids of November 6/7, 1941, Bomber Command had seen its strategic mandate drastically curtailed and its C-in-C sent packing. But with the events of February 12 ; 242 sorties against targets less than 50 miles away, and not one hit ; Bomber Command was at the nadir of its fortunes. At this lowest point, a new commanding officer was to appear. Air Marshal Sir Arthur Harris ; 'Bomber' Harris ; was to be indelibly linked to Bomber Command.
"Bomber" Harris
Sir Arthur Harris was, is and will always be a controversial figure. [2] He stamped Bomber Command with his own vision of war, and his vision has been questioned repeatedly since war's end. He had been in the British forces ; Army, Royal Flying Corps, and RAF ; since the outbreak of the Great War, and served with distinction both in operational commands and as a member of Air Staff. As much as anyone in the RAF, he was an expert in night flying and night-fighting, but when he was asked to accept the position as C-in-C, Bomber Command, he was serving in America.
By all accounts, Harris was neither loquacious nor easy to know. He spoke little, and visited his aircrew seldom. But from the beginning, he was recognized as a man who would take charge. His subordinates admired and supported him, and his crews all but worshipped him. To many ; certainly to his aircrews ; he was known as 'Butch', or 'Butcher', which has been used as proof either that he had a softer, more playful side or that he was recognized as a man whose mission would not be deflected by losses to air crew. Both are probably true to some extent, but the aircrew, showing, perhaps, their macabre sense of black humour, used the nicknames 'Butch' or 'Butcher' without rancour and with real affection.
Harris arrived at Bomber Command at just the right moment. New crew members from the BCATP, finally completing their operational training, were becoming available for duty. New 'heavies' ; particularly the Halifax ; had gone through the worst of their teething problems, and were beginning to appear in large numbers on operational status, and the magnificent Lancaster and Mosquito were making their debuts. More important, many air crew had by now completed the sometimes difficult transition to 'heavies' in the HCUs, and were ready to return to ops. 'Gee', a potential means of finding targets with precision, was only waiting to be installed in a sufficient number of bombers to be tested operationally.
Harris was comfortable with innovation: he had himself developed new devices to make the RAF more efficient. He detested the enemy, but without allowing vengeance to cloud his judgments or decisions. Above all, he was a Douhet man. A practical man, he seldom went further in his statements than to declare that nobody knew if bombing alone could end a war, because it had never been tried before. But in his heart, he believed in strategic bombardment as a war-winning strategy, and was impatient with those who believed only other means could win the war. He would be fortunate to find allies in the men who would lead the USAAF to battle ; Eaker, and Spaatz, and Doolittle, and Arnold ; as the American presence grew in 1942 and 1943. They were all acolytes of Billy Mitchell, the outspoken American supporter of a strategic bomber offensive, [3] and were as fully prepared as Harris to commit their crews to difficult targets, often with severe losses, in the hopes of proving the war-winning capability of strategic bombing. As much as new technology and weapons, the prosecution of the air war took its direction from the men who, in 1942, became commanders of the bombing offensive.
Harris took command just eight days after a new directive, dated February 14, 1942, was issued to Bomber Command. The new directive may have grown from Churchill's recent visit to Washington, where he was meeting with his new ally Roosevelt, or in response to the 'Channel Dash', or from better flying conditions as the weather improved, or from the increasing availability of 'Gee'. It could also have grown from the desire of the Air Ministry to test new bombs and new procedures ; e.g., the new incendiaries. For whatever reasons, a new bomber offensive was under way.
The new directive was not radically different from previous ones, but was needed to countermand the order of mid-November, 1941, which called on Bomber Command to conserve its force. Once again, various precision targets were listed. In addition, Essen, Duisburg, Düsseldorf and Cologne ; in effect, the Ruhr industrial district, or Ruhrgebiet ; were targeted as "general industrial areas" suitable for Bomber Command's attention.
The difference was not in the directive but in the chances of fulfilling it. Harris had tools Peirse could only dream of: new 'heavies'; a more effective arsenal of weapons; a growing pool of trained personnel; and a new target-finding instrument. The Halifax had finally had her tailplane problems fixed and was proving a solid aircraft, the Manchester was already being phased out and replaced by the Lancaster, the Stirling was available, and the Wellingtons, Whitleys and Hampdens were still proving serviceable. While the number of planes at Harris's disposal had not increased, the payload had. The bomb-load options were more sophisticated, ranging from 4 lb. incendiaries to 4,000 lb. 'cookies'. HCUs were coping with converting existing crews to the requirements of the new bombers, and OTUs were taking the newly fledged CATP crews and preparing them for operations. And by the spring of 1942 many of the bombers were equipped with 'Gee'.
'Gee' was not, in truth, a very sophisticated instrument. Nor was it very different from earlier German devices (Knickebein and X-Gerät), though it used cathode ray tubes rather than radio sets. 'Gee' relied on strong pulses sent from three locations in England which allowed suitably equipped planes to determine their location within a narrow margin of error. 'Gee's' effectiveness lessened as a function of distance and the pulses became less precise, and was limited in any case by the horizon. Finally, however, Bomber Command had a target-location device.
There were also new bombing techniques to try out. To counter increasingly active night fighters, for example, a practice known as 'streaming' was introduced. This concentrated the bombers in direction and time to arrive on target in a dense, relatively brief flow, reducing the attack time available to enemy night fighters, seachlights and flak.
Bomber Command returned to the offensive in March, 1942. While the number of targets was greater and more varied than the accompanying map suggests, it was clear that Harris had set his bombers certain goals.
March 3/4 saw the opening of the assault, with an attack on the Renault works at Billancourt. This was the first major night raid on a non-German town, and was undertaken only after much soul-searching by the Air Ministry. It was a striking success, testing many new techniques and devices. The bomber force was streamed; they bombed at relatively low level; they bombed by the light of flares; they hit their target with almost the full weight of available bombers (223 of 235 aircraft found their target). Losses were very light (one Wellington was lost), and damage was evaluated as 'heavy' (though this proved not to be the case: industrial equipment was amazingly resilient to bomb damage). All in all, it was a heartening beginning for Harris, and a tremendous morale booster for his aircrews. [4]
Following Billancourt, certain of the same techniques were tried against Essen in the Ruhr. On three successive nights beginning March 8/9, Bomber Command was largely frustrated: ground haze and cloud obscured the target sufficiently that bombing effectiveness was drastically reduced. This was the first indication that 'Gee' would not be accurate enough for blind-bombing of targets. Of some solace to Bomber Command: flying against Essen, in the heart of the Ruhr, meant that any bombing nearby may do some strategic damage. And 'Gee' was fully capable of placing bombers somewhere within the Ruhrgebiet.
It is interesting to note that the number of aircraft declined with each night, from 211 on March 8/9 to 187 on March 9/10 to 126 on March 10/11. Whatever other reasons may exist for this decline, damage from flak and night fighters would have taken its toll, and the number of available bombers would drop.
After a break on March 11/12, Kiel was bombed by a small group (68 Wellingtons) on March 12/13. The raid was considered a success, but carried a stiff price: seven planes (10.3 per cent) were lost. The following night Cologne was the target of 135 aircraft, and the raid was again considered a success ; the first 'Gee'-led success. After the raid on Cologne, Bomber Command conducted nuisance raids for the following two weeks. They were building up to another test ; this time, of incendiaries.
The target was Lübeck, a picturesque Baltic port relatively close to Kiel. There were some minor legitimate targets in Lübeck: there was a U-boat training school, and the docks unloaded Swedish iron ore. But the aiming point was not the school or the docks: it was the heart of the old town, with its densely packed, half-timbered medieval housing. On March 28/29, 400 tons of bombs were dropped on Lübeck, two-thirds of them incendiaries. The town was gutted more fiercely than any other German town to date, with well over 1,000 dead and injured and 16,000 left homeless. Of the 3,400 buildings damaged or destroyed, over 3,000 were residential, while 250 were industrial. The cost to Bomber Command was 12 aircraft of 234 ; a high but acceptable five per cent, given the raid's success.
That Lübeck had some strategic value is clear. That the town was a 'good test' for the deployment of incendiaries is equally clear. From recorded comments by Goebbels and others, the impact of the raid on the Germans was shattering: until Lübeck, Bomber Command attacks on German cities had been, indeed, nuisance raids of very little import. Bomber Command had been striving for just such a success since the German bombing of Rotterdam almost a year earlier. At long last, a large number of British bombers found the target they had set out to destroy. But given the aiming point (the old town), it is hard to escape the conclusion that Lübeck marked a turning point in Bomber Command's war. This was not a town in the Ruhrgebiet, that vast "industrial area" that was deemed an acceptable target. With the 'Millennium' (thousand-bomber) raids looming in the (not too distant) future, Lübeck marks the beginning of area civilian bombing as part of Bomber Command's policy.
In the two weeks after Lübeck, Harris launched his forces ; usually in small numbers ; against Essen, Hamburg, Duisburg, Dortmund and other cities within his directive. He also committed a small number of Lancasters to a daylight raid, using the argument that the Lancaster's combination of speed and defensive armament would see the aircraft through. [5] The raid was on April 17: of 12 Lancasters sent, only five came home. With reluctance but showing a modicum of sanity, Bomber Command for the most part scrapped future undefended flights of 'heavies' in daylight.
Harris then launched a series of attacks on Rostock. Rostock, like Lübeck, was a relatively small coastal centre. Like Lübeck, it was easy to find; like Lübeck, it was a town with many medieval, half-timbered buildings. The first evening's raid on April 23/24 was not damaging enough: Harris sent further bombers on the following three nights. Over 60 per cent of the city was destroyed: the cost to Bomber Command was eight aircraft, a loss rate of 1.5 per cent. After Rostock, the Germans began using the word Terrorangriff (terror raid) to describe such attacks. The aircrew were terror flieger. It takes very little knowledge of German to appreciate what terror flieger means. [6]
Rostock was home to a Heinkel factory, and could therefore be described as a legitimate target. But it is worth noting that of the 161 aircraft dispatched on April 23/24, only 18 were sent against Heinkel: the rest were directed to bomb the city itself. Heinkel went untouched. On April 24/25, 34 of 125 planes targeted Heinkel, which again escaped unscathed. Not until the third night, when again 18 (of 128) aircraft were given the assignment, was the Heinkel factory hit. Of 414 sorties on these first three nights, only 70 ; 17 per cent ; were attacking a precise military target. Fewer than 25 percent of the 70 actually hit Heinkel. For the fourth and final night (April 26/27), official records are fuzzy: [7] the number of aircraft sent was just over 100, divided roughly equally between town and factory. Both elements of this final raid claimed success.
What did the destruction of Lübeck and Rostock prove? To German high command, it demonstrated that the British were dedicated to destroying their cultural heritage: both towns held a high place in the architectural and cultural history of Germany. Their response was to launch the so-called 'Baedeker Raids' against England. [8] To British high command, the raids on Lübeck and Rostock ; relatively small in scale, against relatively small targets ; were a testing ground. They demonstrated that precision bombing could be accomplished by night (the Heinkel factory), and that incendiaries could indeed generate massive fires (the razing of the hearts of both towns). More, they indicated that Bomber Command was prepared to implement area bombing with only the slightest pretext of strategic importance. Two months after taking command, 'Bomber' Harris was demonstrating that he would attack the enemy in home or factory without hesitation. Or remorse.
'Millennium' and the Thousand-Bomber Raids
If Harris was pleased with the raids on Billancourt, Cologne, Lübeck and Rostock (and he was), and if the raids received official praise (which they did), he was still neither comfortable nor satisfied. He had the beginnings of a tactical modus operandi upon which to build, but he was under pressure from a number of sources for a variety of reasons. The Royal Navy, for example, felt that too much of the war effort was being directed to Bomber Command's needs and not enough to Coastal Command (which it controlled), even though many Coastal Command aircraft were "on loan" from Bomber Command; the Army, meanwhile, was desperate for increased air support in North Africa. Certain members of the War Cabinet too were still uncertain of Bomber Command's capabilities, and remained haunted by the heavy losses in November, 1941 ; less than six months earlier. Harris needed something to still the critics, to alleviate the pressure so that he could get on with the job he had been given. Bomber Command still had to prove itself.
Where the concept of the thousand-bomber raids came from has never been determined. The usual story suggests that the need for a "big statement" by Bomber Command had been on Harris's mind during the March-April offensives. He needed to stage an event that would silence his critics, ensure a growing supply of 'heavies', gain popular support for the bomber offensive and (coincidentally) establish Harris in command. The magic '1,000' was, according to this version, more an expression of fantasy than a statement of intent. [9] Saundby, ever responsive to Harris's ideas, developed a plan by which fantasy could become reality. By mid-May Harris had raised the matter with Portal, who in turn took it to Churchill. By May 20, the plan was approved, with primary target either Hamburg or Cologne.
It is as easy to dismiss the importance of the thousand-bomber raids as it is to overemphasize their impact. The first raid, against Cologne on May 30/31, was the most successful. Over one thousand bombers (1,047) dumped just under 1,500 tons of bombs on the city in a very short space of time, with a loss rate just under four per cent. Cologne suffered heavy damage: hundreds of lives, and thousands of homes, were lost. Harris followed it up with two more 'thousand' raids, against Essen (which was less than successful) and Bremen (better than Essen, but not as successful as the initial raid on Cologne). After that, the thousand-bomber force was broken up.
The benefits of these three raids to Harris's cause, and to the cause of Bomber Command, were significant. In the devastation inflicted on Cologne, Harris had provided a demonstration of what a large force of 'heavies' could do against a significant target. With Portal as an active participant at the policy level, Harris would use Cologne (and Lübeck and Rostock) as 'counters' in an attempt to gain support in three areas: increased support for heavy bomber production; reduced dilution of Bomber Command by siphoning aircraft and air crew to Coastal Command and Army support; and increased autonomy in conducting the air war against Germany. Between them, Harris and Portal would have some success in at least two of the three areas: increased production was agreed to, though not to the levels either man wanted; [10] and the prosecution of the air war would be left largely in Harris's hands, at least for the time being.
If the thousand-bomber raids were of such significance to Harris's cause, why did he discontinue them? The simple answer is that he could not afford them. In May, 1942, Harris only had an average of about 400 serviceable aircraft in his operational squadrons. Finding an additional 600 aircraft meant stripping Bomber Command clean. A look at the make-up of the Cologne raid ; the biggest of the three ; is instructive:
The first thing to note is that 35 per cent of the aircraft were drawn from OTUs or Flight Training Command. By definition, most of these had no business being on any raid over Germany, let alone against a major target. Even if they had experienced pilots aboard ; and many of the OTU planes were flown by OTU instructors ; the majority of the crews were by definition still in training for operational status. By risking this percentage of trainees, Harris was rolling dice with the future of Bomber Command. The Berlin-Mannheim raids of November had cost 28 of 244 aircraft, a 12.5 per cent loss rate. Had Harris lost 130 aircraft (12.5 per cent of his force) over Cologne, it is certain that he would have been sacked and Bomber Command's future would have been bleak indeed. The gambler in Harris paid off, but he was literally playing the percentages.
A break-down by aircraft types is also interesting. Whitleys and Hampdens make up just ten per cent of the raiding force with 107 aircraft , and 66 of these (61.5%) are OTU aircraft. Wellingtons make up 57.5 per cent of the force and are drawn equally from operational Groups and OTUs, a tribute to the strength and capabilities of Wimpey, which would still the backbone for 6 Group a year later. The Manchester numbers are most disturbing, not just because only 46 could be mustered but because there are no Manchesters on the strength of OTUs. The Manchester was heading for the scrap heap, and not even its similarities to the Lancaster could make it valuable for operational training. The new four-engined 'heavies' ; the Lancasters, Halifaxes and Stirlings ; comprised only 28 per cent of the total group.
It is a commonplace to say that Harris took command when the new 'heavies' were coming on line, and this is true. In cobbling together even the first of the thousand-bomber raids, however, Harris drew on every aircraft he could find. On June 1/2, for a second raid ; this time against Essen ; he could muster only 956 aircraft. Thirty-one aircraft (3.2 %) were lost. When be brought the thousand-bomber concept back to life at the end of June, for the 25/26 June raid on Bremen, he fell short of the 1,000 mark again, with 960 aircraft, with 48 aircraft (5%) lost. On the Bremen raid, aircraft from the OTUs suffered disproportionately: 11.6 per cent of aircraft (23 of 198) were lost. The Essen raid was not at all a success: clouds and/or ground haze obscured the target, and bombing accuracy suffered accordingly. Damage to Essen itself was very light, but bombs fell on 11 other towns and cities in the Ruhrgebiet. For Bremen, results were somewhat better, though still a mere shadow of the Cologne raid of May 30/31.
In many ways, Harris should have quit after the first raid, while he was clearly ahead. The success of Cologne was blunted by the poor results at Essen and the high loss rate to OTUs against Bremen. But the second and third raids were not just showmanship: they were further tests of Bomber Command tactics and equipment. Tactically, the 'streaming' techniques were further tightened, reducing the total time over target substantially. "Gee", too became the subject of further assessment. The raid on Essen demonstrated that "Gee" was unable to provide accurate enough readings to find targets through ground cover such as haze or smoke; Bremen suggested that, against a more easily identified target, "Gee" ; in conjunction with good navigators and bomb aimers ; could find the target. Important lessons had been learned: to continue the thousand-bomber raids beyond Bremen was placing too great a strain on the flow of new crews to operational squadrons. In the next month, no Bomber Command target was attacked by more than 325 aircraft. It was time to evaluate, conserve, and rebuild the force.
Pathfinder Force
Pathfinder Force (PFF) was an obvious growth arising from the growth of the bomber force and the increased use of 'streaming'. Its genesis was in November, 1941 in the Air Ministry, and was raised with 'Bomber' Harris soon after he took command. Harris was prepared to go only so far: on a number of occasions, experienced crews were used to illuminate or mark a target so that other bombers would more easily find their way. [11] It was now proposed that such crews be taken from their squadrons to form a separate operational Group, become expert in the use and operation of the latest navigational aids, and be used in a specialized capacity as target finders.
The idea was opposed by operational leaders at nearly every level of Bomber Command, largely on grounds that the formation of an elite group, plucked from squadrons across the Command, would undermine the morale of regular bomber crews and would limit promotion opportunities for the better crews. Portal supported the concept, however, and forced Harris and the others to accept it. By the middle of August, Pathfinder Force (PFF) was a reality, though not in the form it would ultimately take. Rather than taking the best crews, one squadron from each operational Group was nominated for PFF.
The inducements offered to aircrew for joining PFF were a one-rank, across-the-board promotion for all crews that qualified as Pathfinders, together with a Badge denoting their specialty. On the down-side, the number of ops per tour was increased to 60 (but included those already flown on current tours) ; double the number of ops per tour! With hindsight, it is difficult to understand why any crews accepted transfer to PFF. Many, it seems, accepted because their tours were nearing completion and the dread of crew break-up loomed. Normally, crews were disbanded at the end of a tour, and crew members were sent on leave, transferred to OTUs as instructors, or sent on advanced training courses. They seldom flew together again. The bonding and mutual reliance that brought a crew through 30 ops was often so strong that the prospect of a further 30 ops together was more attractive than the thought of changing ; even as an instructor at an OTU, where crashes were not at all uncommon ; to a new crew of unknown temperament and untried capabilities. By the same token, some crews who were invited to join PFF rejected the opportunity because one crew member was unprepared to make the commitment.
PFF did not become a major force in 1942: its contribution came in the years to follow. But its creation in 1942, even in an imperfect form, was one more step in building Bomber Command into an effective strategic arm. The necessary aircraft ; Lancs, Hallys, Stirlings and Mozzies ; were now available. Lack of personnel was becoming only a minor irritant: CATP crews were beginning to pour into Britain. [12] Streaming techniques had proven effective, and would be refined as the war intensified. Bomb mixes and sequences had been tested, and only needed adjustments based on the target. Target-marking devices had been experimented with, and showed promise. Only 'Gee' had failed to live up to expectations. The final piece of the puzzle ; target finding ; would be addressed by the crews of Pathfinder Force.
The Arrival of the Americans
At the same time PFF was being established, the first units of the American 8th Air Force arrived in Britain. The 15th Bombardment Squadron were the first to arrive, in May, 1942. They represented a bit of a false spring: the U.S. 'heavies' would not appear in any real numbers until the end of July. But aircrew from 15th Bombardment Squadron made their bombing debut not, I think coincidentally on July 4, 1942. Twelve A-20s, all marked with RAF rondels but with six American and six British crews, attacked four airfields in Holland at low level. Three planes were lost all crewed by Americans but the United States had joined the war.
It can be argued that the activities of the USAAF in Europe are not strictly relevant to the story of Bomber Command. Nevertheless, the history of Bomber Command is not complete without a close look at the role of 8th Air Force. There are three reasons for this. First, senior officers of the USAAF and Air Ministry Arnold and Portal, respectively shared an almost common belief in the capacity of a strategic air offensive to shorten or dictate the end of the war. Secondly, the USAAF and Air Ministry disagreed entirely on the means by which this could be accomplished. Finally, despite their differences, the USAAF and Air Ministry were able to develop in the face of much opposition from other service chiefs complementary means by which the German ability to wage war might be destroyed. In operational terms, Harris's Bomber Command would raze German cities by night, while Eaker's 8th Air Force would pinpoint strategic industry by day.
Earlier, the strategic capabilities of any bomber force were linked with the theories of Douhet. Britain had had Douhet supporters, particularly in Sir Hugh Trenchard, the father of the RAF. 'Boom' Trenchard remained a living legend throughout the 30s and early 40s, and exuded tremendous influence on the growth and development of the RAF. [13] A staunch advocate of a separate air arm with offensive capabilities, Trenchard lived long enough to see his RAF become a major player in World War II. The Americans, on the other hand, had Billy Mitchell, the World War I ace whose belief in the role of aviation in any future war, combined with his rather theatrical demonstration of air power against anchored warships and his histrionic disagreement with US military authorities on the issue of military air safety, led via a court martial followed by a resignation to his separation from military service. Mitchell was 'martyred' in the cause of air power, but his cause remained alive in the minds and activities of men like Henry 'Hap' Arnold, Carl 'Tooey' Spaatz, Ira Eaker and others. These acolytes, holding Mitchell's strategic banner aloft, were in positions of influence in the USAAF as it entered the war in Europe.
The two air forces recognized that each had evolved a separate means of prosecuting the air war. While the means were both distinct and different, the objective remained the same: to so overwhelm the enemy by bombing that he was incapable of continuing the war. They also realized that their common enemy was not only Germany, but also the military traditionalists in their own armed forces with whom they had to work. In this sphere, the RAF, with its separate status and organization, was much the more fortunate. For the supporters of the air offensive within the American military, the burden of the air force's continued existence within the Army added both strictures and the added zeal of wresting a new military structure out of the situation. From the time they first met in early 1942, leaders of the RAF and USAAF were more prepared to discuss approaches and techniques with each other than they were with their respective controllers.
In their approaches to air combat, however, the two forces differed dramatically. Bomber Command had learned, through the harsh experience of three years of combat, that daylight bombing was a suicidal endeavour. [14] The USAAF, on the other hand, had determined that only through precision daylight bombing could the enemy be damaged sufficiently to render a war-winning verdict. During the first months of 1942, senior British officials did everything they could to convince senior American officials that night bombing was the most effective approach. The Americans listened politely, smiled, considered the capabilities of their bombers, and made their own decisions. They opted for daylight bombing.
A comparison of USAAF and RAF bombers underscores the different military philosophies they were designed to support. I have retained data for the Wellington, because it would fly until at least the end of 1943, and have retained early 'marks' for Bomber Command's 'heavies' to give an accurate reading of the relative merits of the 'heavies' at the time the Americans entered the war.
Clearly, the British and American bombers were roughly equivalent in size, speed and range. [15] However, they differed in three categories: bomb load; defensive armament; and number of crew. Their bomb loads were relatively small, at roughly half the British aircrafts' lift capacity, but both aircraft carried a stunning arsenal of defensive weapons, and needed extra crew to man them.
While the British and American bombers appear in the table to have similar defensive armament, the American planes were much better protected. This was so not just because of the difference between .303 and .5 calibre guns, though that was a great difference indeed. The American planes had guns that created overlapping fields of fire from the tail, ball (belly or ventral), waist, top, nose (or chin) and (sometimes) dorsal locations.
American bombing policy was predicated on the concept of mutual inter-locking defensive fire. By creating a series of 'boxes' of aircraft, the multiple fields of fire would provide sufficient protection to keep the enemy fighters at bay: 100 B-17s flying in tight formation, for instance, would have a defensive shield of some 1,200 Brownings. The Browning was a very powerful weapon, with a good rate of fire and a relatively long reach, and its projectile (0.5 inch/12.7 mm) could do severe damage to an attacking fighter. The German pilots quickly learned to respect the gun's capabilities. They also learned its limitations, just as they learned the weaknesses of the box formation. Despite the bravery of the American aircrews, the B-17s and B-24s began to fall.
Initially, American aircrews were insufficiently trained, in part because their masters were impatient to commit their forces to the offensive. On the positive side, crew members were familiar with each other, having normally been 'crewed up' for some time. But they received less than adequate gunnery practice and in many instances minimal practical navigational training. They had no experience of the weather conditions they would meet over Europe, where haze, smog, fog and snow would make much of their training experience irrelevant. More seriously, many of the pilots had had almost no experience in formation flying the structural framework upon which American bombing policy was based. These weaknesses were corrected as the months went by. Hard-won knowledge would be passed from experienced crews to novices, and new techniques particularly in navigation would be instituted, but only after a high loss rate in crews and aircraft.
With an alacrity characteristic of the American military, 8th Air Force was activated as early as January, 1942, and, with the help of the British Air Ministry and of Bomber Command, set about building a base support network in England. By the end of July the 97th Bomber Group were in place; within two weeks on August 17, 1942 elements of the group flew against Rouen. [16] This assault is usually taken as the beginning of America's air war in Europe. Two days later, 22 B-17s of the same group flew in support of the Dieppe slaughter, [17] joined by 31st Fighter Group flying RAF Spitfires.
The two men responsible for the deployment of 8th Air Force in Britain Maj. Gen. Carl "Tooey" Spaatz, Head of U.S. Army Forces, British Isles (Air); and Brig. Gen. Ira Eaker, Head, bomber command received full-hearted support from their superior, Lt. Gen. Henry "Hap" Arnold, Chief of Army Air Forces. Arnold, a long-time and vocal supporter of Billy Mitchell, was anxious to demonstrate the efficiency and effectiveness of his forces. Here, finally, was a chance to strike a blow not just for freedom, but also for the concept of an independent air force. Unfortunately, after the initial build-up the flow of aircraft slowed, and not even "Hap" Arnold could do anything about it.
General Arnold was not the only high-ranking American officer wishing to come to grips with the enemy. Even ignoring the war against Japan, the requirements in Europe were straining the military resources of the United States. Admiral King, concerned about the increased depredations caused by the U-boats, [18] wanted aircraft and manufacturing facilities in support of maritime air patrols and convoy air cover. General Marshall wanted an invasion of Europe as early as the summer of 1942 a palpable impossibility.[19] Settling instead for "Torch", the November, 1942 landings in North Africa, created a drain on aircraft destined for Britain. Light bombers were withdrawn from Britain, as 12th Air Force (together with the P-38s of 1st Fighter Group) were transferred in support of "Torch".
The 8th Air Force, like RAF Bomber Command in 1940 and 1941, was finding that the demands of the larger struggle took precedence over the strategic air war in Europe. For the remainder of the year, "The Mighty Eighth" would make the best of the aircraft they had, but for its largest raid of 1942 on October 9 it was able to muster only 110 B-17s and B-24s, and 29 of those turned back for one reason or another. For the moment, the USAAF remained a very junior partner indeed, and would not send aircraft against Germany proper until 1943.
Summer, 1942
After the third and last 1,000-bomber raid against Bremen on June 25/26, Bomber Command paused to catch its breath, recoup its losses and rebuild its strength. Bremen was attacked three more times in the following week, but the largest force despatched was only 325 bombers. Duisburg received similar treatment, with four raids between July 13/14 and July 25/26, the largest attack being by 313 aircraft. Hamburg was hit only twice, on July 26/27 and July 28/29, but with considerable force ; 403 aircraft on the first night and 256 on the second. Saarbrücken, Düsseldorf and Osnabrück also received attention. Düsseldorf, in the largest attack since the 1,000-bomber raids, was visited on July 31/Aug. 1 by 630 aircraft, a force that once more combined both operational and OTU units.
These were not the only operations Bomber Command carried out, of course. Daylight raids continued to be conducted on a minor scale by Blenheims, Bostons and Wellingtons. The Mosquito, which made its first operational debut over Cologne on June 1, two days after the first of the thousand-bomber raids, was being cautiously allowed to test its mettle in a variety or roles.
Throughout the summer months, however, Harris's planes were relatively inactive. It is interesting to look at elements of the statistical tabulation for May 30/31 to August 17 provided by Martin Middlebrook (Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 296):
The first thing worth noting is the number of days (25, or 31.5 percent) and nights (19, or 24 percent) when there was no Bomber Command activity at all. Weather, we know, affected bombing. Reading between the lines, it appears that for this summer, cloud and other conditions were a problem: on August 4/5, for example, 38 aircraft dispatched to Essen encountered heavy icing conditions. Throughout the period under examination, there were a number of nights when bomber formations were recalled ; largely, it seems, because of weather conditions. But there were also times when they were recalled for lack of cloud: the aircraft were too exposed in full moonlight. Nevertheless, bombers must fly to wage war ; and for one day in three, and one night in four, no Bomber Command aircraft were in the air.
Secondly, the average number of sorties per night, while accurate, is somewhat skewed by four large raids. The typical number of serviceable aircraft was approximately 400 per day. Operational
records show that during these 79 days/nights, there were only 20 nights on which 200 or more aircraft ; half the available aircraft ; were on operations. In other words, Bomber Command flew at half-strength or better on 25 per cent of the nights available, and did not fly at all on 24 per cent.
Of the 20 nights, four were Herculean: three were
thousand-bomber nights; the next largest single raid comprised over 630
aircraft. The total number of sorties for those four nights is 3,866, just over
one-third of the total, for five percent of the total nights. On the other
hand, there are 35 nights when fewer than fifty planes flew, totalling only 341
sorties: 44 percent of the total nights and only three per cent of the sorties.
The remaining 40 nights ; one night in two ; saw 63 per cent of the total
sorties. Twelve of these nights were classified as major raids (200+ aircraft)
on single targets (3,308 sorties); thirteen were considered significant raids
on single targets, using as few as 106 aircraft or as many as 194 (2,152
sorties). If the aim of this inconsistency was meant to confuse the German
defences, it must have succeeded admirably: during one week, as many as 2,753
sorties; during another, only 145. A great many night fighters and flak
batteries were tied up waiting for those 145 aircraft.
When the Germans got the chance, they did their job: the percentage of aircraft lost to Bomber Command was creeping upward. Earlier, we looked at statistics for July 17 to November 10, 1941. At that time, the loss rate was 3.9 per cent. By the summer of 1942 it had climbed almost half a percentage point to 4.3 per cent. This increase is not explained by the three thousand-bomber raids, which had a loss rate of four per cent. In all likelihood, increased German capabilities, through both more sophisticated night fighter direction and larger, more intensive flak batteries, accounted for the increase. For perhaps the first time in the war, Bomber Command aircrew morale began to flag; Halifax squadrons, for example, were withdrawn from the heaviest raids for a period of a month, not returning to full activity until early September. A 4.0 per cent loss rate was reckoned to be the maximum that was sustainable over any length of time, and Harris must have viewed that 4.3 per cent with alarm. The Air Ministry and the War Cabinet would not tolerate this level of losses for too long. [20]
One other intriguing point in tallying the major raids of Summer 1942: in no instance was a city targeted for a major raid on successive nights. Bremen, for instance, was attacked on May 25/26, May 27/28, May 29/30 and June 2/3. What looks like every night at first glance is really every other night. The same pattern applies to the five raids against Duisburg and the two against Hamburg. In addition, in only two instances ; Duisburg on July 25/26, followed by Hamburg on July 26/27; and Hamburg on July 28/29 followed by Saarbrücken on July 29/30 ; were 200+ raids initiated on successive nights.
The "every second night" approach may have been tactically sound. For example, 48 hours would allow sufficient time for citizens of an attacked city to overcome their fear and return to their homes, for firefighters to bring the worst conflagrations under control, for Techniche Nothilfe (TENO) battalions to begin clearing the streets and tearing down damaged buildings. A second (or subsequent) attack would then have an increased impact on citizens, civil defence workers and the entire support structure, increasing both their feelings of futility and their sense of vulnerability ; a positive outcome in a war against civilians. On a less positive note, the 48-hour break between major raids may signal the need for additional time for ground crew to repair damage suffered by aircraft, or the need to replace or rebuild aircrew. After one 17-night period in which Bomber Command mounted eight major or significant raids, for instance, there followed 18 nights when it mounted only two. In part, this may be accounted for by the withdrawal of the Hallys, but it also suggests that Harris's 'typical' bomber complement of 400 aircraft was a more fragile reality than is generally considered.
Pathfinder-led Raids
August 17 marked ends and beginnings. It was the day Pathfinder Forces were first brought together. It marked the first separate flight of USAAF bombers against occupied Europe. The evening of August 17/18 marked the last operational flight of the Blenheim against Germany, and the first of the PFF-directed raids, a rather successful attack by 139 aircraft against Osnabrück. This was followed the next night by an attack by 118 aircraft on Flensburg. This was a dismal failure, with PFF marking the wrong city.
After a brief period of readjustment, Bomber Command unleashed a torrent of attacks against Germany. Between August 24/25 and October 15/16, 16 Pathfinder-led raids (14 of them classified as major raids, with 200+ aircraft) struck across northern Germany. The early raids were used to develop target-marking techniques, though the basic pattern was set by a successful attack on Bremen by 251 aircraft on September 4/5. Pathfinder "Illuminators" would light up the target using flares, which would be used by PFF "Visual Markers" to drop coloured marker flares, in turn followed by "Backers-Up" dropping incendiaries. The main bombing stream would look for this pattern, and bomb accordingly.
The raids were not universally successful. Pathfinders too could lose their way and mark the wrong target, or be deceived by decoy fires set by the Germans, or arrive too late to place their markers before the main stream arrived. In addition, inclement weather during the latter half of September reduced PFF effectiveness. Better navigation would get them closer to the target, but good clear weather was still necessary for accurate target-marking. There was a pattern emerging, however: when Pathfinders marked their targets, Bomber Command was much more successful than it had been previously. As they learned their new trade, the aircrew of PFF began to earn their place in the strategic bombing campaign.
The loss rate for these 16 200+ raids was appalling. For the 4,377 sorties flown on these 16 ops, 245 aircraft 5.6 per cent were lost. On three of the 16 raids, loss rates exceeded 10 per cent. The clear weather over target that was still essential for success did not help: clear weather was still night fighter weather. But it was also becoming clear that certain Bomber Command aircraft were not up to the longer, more demanding flights. Wellingtons, which still made up a good proportion of Bomber Command aircraft, were being very hard-hit: on the August 28/29 attack on Nuremberg, 34 per cent of the Wellingtons failed to return. Hampdens, too, had outlived their effective life, and after the Wilhelmshaven attack of September 14/15 they were withdrawn from further front-line operations. Yet somehow Portal and Harris were able to convince Churchill to continue to support Bomber Command. On September 17, the day after the second raid with 10+ per cent losses, the Prime Minister required that aircraft borrowed from Bomber Command be returned, and that Bomber Command be built up from 35 to 50 squadrons.
While the PFF-led raids were under way, two other raids occurred which kept alive the possibility of attacks by day. The first was on August 27/28, when nine Lancasters were sent to attack the German aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin, then under construction in Gdynia. Nothing came of the raid because Graf Zeppelin was obscured, but seven of the Lancs completed the journey, bombing alternate targets, without loss. The importance of the raid was that the target was fully 950 miles from the Lancasters' bases. The second attack, on October 17, was against Le Creusot, a centre for armament manufacture deep inside France. In this instance, 94 Lancasters flew at tree-top level for a late afternoon attack on the Schneider factory. The attack achieved tactical surprise but was not successful; most of the bombs fell outside the Schneider factory that was the major target. But only one of the 94 Lancasters was lost, though 4 returned with damage caused by birds hitting their aircraft! In truth, the two raids amounted to little: 103 sorties which obtained indifferent results for their effort. Harris and the Germans, without doubt, both recognized what the two raids signified. Bomber Command could strike at any time of the day or night; and targets 1,000 miles from Britain were no longer safe from attack. To achieve that with a loss rate of less than one per cent must have brought a smile to Harris's face.
After October 17, Bomber Command's focus shifted away from northern Europe, in support of campaigns developing in North Africa. Montgomery was to launch the second battle of El Alamein on October 23; and "Torch", the three-pronged invasion of North-west Africa, was to begin on the night of November 7/8. Bomber Command supported these campaigns by attacking Italy's northern industrial area, beginning October 22/23 against Genoa, and concluding seven weeks later, against Turin on December 11/12.
Of the 13 raids against Italian targets, only three all against Turin were in the major (200+) category. Six were conducted with fewer than 100 aircraft, and four were in the 100-200 range. Total sorties were 1,692, with only 33 losses (2.0 per cent), including one aircraft which crashed on its return to Britain. Nine raids were considered successful, with solid PFF marking and concentrated bombing. One raid missed Genoa entirely, when Pathfinders marked the wrong city, and three raids were unsuccessful when weather or smoke made accurate target-marking impossible. On the final raid, over half of the force of 82 aircraft turned back after encountering heavy icing.
During the same time, there were only three major raids against German targets, against Hamburg (November 9/10), Stuttgart (November 22/23) and Mannheim (December 6/7). A fourth raid, against Duisburg on December 20/21, ended Bomber Command's year. Of the four, only Duisburg was considered a success. The others were plagued by foul weather, and PFF marking suffered accordingly. Greater success was achieved in a daylight raid against Eindhoven on December 6, when 93 light bombers (Venturas, Bostons and Mosquitos) savaged the Phillips factories. The cost to Bomber Command was very high, with losses set at 14 (15 per cent), excluding three aircraft which crashed or force-landed in Britain. [21] The Phillips works were badly damaged, and did not resume full production for six months: the raid was in consequence considered a success.
Show Part 3 Notes
A Select Bibliography
This bibliography is select in every sense of the word, and will grow as the Bomber Command topics are completed. All are either in my own collection or have been used to refresh my mind as I write: hence the preponderant focus on the British war. As the USAAF becomes involved (really, not until 1943), volumes relating to their efforts will be added to the bibliography as applicable. In no case should this be considered a complete list of volumes on the war in the air.
General
Related or of Interest
Contemporary Writings and Other Matters
© 2025 Brian Grafton
* Views expressed by contributors are their own and do not necessarily represent those of MilitaryHistoryOnline.com.
by Brian Grafton
Against the Wall: Britain in September, 1940
By September of 1940, the war in Europe should have been over.
The Allied armies had been overpowered, first in Norway and then, very rapidly indeed, in Holland, Belgium and France. The "Miracle at Dunkirk", the final act of a strategic and tactical rout which began in the Ardennes, had deposited 330,000 bedraggled troops in Britain with weapons little larger than rifle calibre. Britain herself was open for invasion, defended only by over- and under-aged Local Defence Volunteers[1] armed with little more than pitch-forks and hunting rifles and by scattered commonwealth troops with few weapons, haphazard training and no combat experience.
At sea, the Royal Navy had had mixed success and was still a major force. The loss of Courageous and the early embarrassment of U-47's success in Scapa Flow had been off-set by the hunting down of Graf Spee. But the fall of Europe to the Wehrmacht and the loss of the French fleet had drastically skewed the role the Royal Navy was expected to play in any European war (keeping the sea-lanes open; and blockade). With all of the coastline from Sweden to Spain at her disposal, the Kriegsmarine had a substantially increased opportunity to sever England's lifelines to her commonwealth and empire and starve her into submission. The Royal Navy had neither the weapons, the ships, the tactics nor the personnel to conduct effective counter-measures to the threat the U-boats presented, a bleak reality that was not to change for three years. At the same time, the threat from surface raiders would keep many of Britain's capital ships hog-tied at Scapa for years to come.
In the air, things were rather more complex, but essentially no better.
Defensively, Britain had an increasingly powerful fighter presence in their Hurricane and Spitfire squadrons. Churchill was prepared to squander them over the battlefields of France, [2] which would have left England relatively naked to the coming onslaught by Goering's Luftwaffe. Only Dowding's [3] persistence in retaining them for the defence of England kept the squadrons on English soil. They were to prove enough, just enough, to keep the Luftwaffe from taking command of the skies and opening England to invasion. But by the end of the summer of 1940, Fighter Command was battered both from the growing German offensive and because of a vicious internal dispute. [4] By mid-September, 11 Group would have no reserves to meet the Luftwaffe assault.
Offensively, the RAF had Bomber Command. [5] The beginning of the war found Bomber Command in a rather sorry state. Bomber development had suffered as a result of the financial catastrophe of the 1930s: bombers were expensive to build. Still, RAF Bomber Command did have aircraft. Chief amongst them was the Vickers Wellington (the "Wimpey"), designed by Barnes Wallis. [6] But there were many others: the Whitley; the Battle; the Blenheim; the Hampden. The Battle in particular was obsolete or obsolescent at the beginning of the war; its use came at high cost in lost air crew for pathetic or non-existent results.
Plans for more sophisticated bombers were in the works: the Stirling, the Halifax and the Manchester were bigger, faster, had greater range and substantial bomb loads. But in September of 1940 they were still in the future; the first Lancaster [7] was not to fly until early 1941.
Bomber Command was not entirely idle during the 'phony war' of 1939/40 or the furious German assault on France and the Low Countries in May, 1940. Bomber Command had attacked German military installations such as Wilhelmshaven and Heligoland, but with disastrous results and at great cost. By early 1940 it was clear that RAF bombers could not defend themselves against fighter attack. Tactically, the Blenheims and Battles were thrown at Wehrmacht columns advancing through France. They were slaughtered, and without a shred of the success achieved by the Ju 87 [8] to mark their passing.
Finally, Britain was in a desperate financial situation. The 'Cash and Carry' policies enacted by Congress favoured the British cause, in that goods purchased from the U.S. had to be carried in ships under the purchaser's registry. Since the sea lanes to Britain were still open, the "carry" policy worked in their favour (as was probably intended by Roosevelt). But British funds and foreign reserves were being fast depleted, and these could not be replaced.
At the end of the summer of 1940, then, Britain's future was bleak. The remnants of a once-proud army were dragged home after an unquestionable defeat; the navy was unable to keep the English Channel open, and faced increased threats from both U-boats and surface forces capable of attacking from any number of bases along a greatly increased shoreline. Fighter Command was battling fiercely with the Luftwaffe, and watching its pilot reserve shrink daily. Bomber Command was incapable of taking the war to the enemy. For all her vast commonwealth and empire, Britain was facing bankruptcy. It is not too difficult to understand why Hitler offered his "appeal to reason", or why U.S. Ambassador Joe Kennedy was shipping his daughter back to the States while announcing to anyone who would listen that the British were finished.
The British did not listen. They fought back. Their chosen weapon, in truth, their only viable weapon, was Bomber Command. Churchill himself summed it up nicely on September 3, 1940:
The Navy can lose us the war, but only the Air Force can win it. Therefore our supreme effort must be to gain overwhelming mastery of the air. The Fighters are our salvation, but the Bombers alone provide the means of victory. [9]
This is the story of what the bombers provided, and how they provided it.
Between the Wars
In the years after World War I, the relative merits of bombers and fighters were strongly debated. Douhet's dictum was the benchmark, rendered by Stanley Baldwin in English as "the bomber will always get through". Douhet and his followers, adherents, or fellow visionaries - Trenchard in Britain and Mitchell in the U.S. among them - argued early in the inter-war years that in any future war swarms of bombers would assault the enemy at home, and so devastate its population that maddened, deranged civilians would demand their government sue for peace.
The primary means of defense, then as now, was to destroy the bombers before they reached their targets. Fighter aircraft, by whatever name they were called [10] would be needed to defend the homeland by shooting down attacking enemy bombers. Failing that - and many believed that fighters would fail - other anti-aircraft devices would be expected to destroy the enemy either before they reached the target or over the target area.
It was a compelling debate, upon which the fate of nations might literally depend. [11] The defeat of the bomber became one focus of research, and many improbable avenues were explored. One of the most improbable avenues, the search for a death ray that might boil the blood of enemy pilots, lead - very indirectly - to one of the most significant developments of the war: RDF, or radar.
During the 1920s and early 1930s the bomber-fighter debate was largely contained within military and economic spheres. The British, for instance, invoked a "Ten Year Rule" for approving military expenditures, based on the probability of war in the next ten years. Events in Germany in 1933 changed the rules. As was the case with all of Germany's armed forces, the growth of the Luftwaffe was spectacular. By 1937, when a Dornier Do 17 bomber (the 'Flying Pencil') equipped with special engines appeared at a Zürich air show, Douhet's vision appeared to be a reality. There was not an operational fighter outside Germany that could catch this Do 17; her flight marked a wake-up call to western democracies. Even with the less efficient engines assigned her, the early Do 17s flew at 220 mph, and could carry a bomb load of 750 kg. And they had their own answers to any fighter that might stumble upon them: they carried multiple machine guns to ward off attackers.
British bomber development was not far behind. In late 1937, the first Vickers Wellington appeared, boasting a speed of 230 mph and a phenomenal bomb load of 4500 lbs. Of geodetic construction and largely fabric-covered, the 'Wimpey' was a truly astounding aircraft, and would serve the RAF well for many years. She too carried defensive armament in nose and tail turrets.
It is pointless, perhaps, to attempt to freeze time in this way. Bomber development was amazingly rapid in all countries during the 1930s, In England this was prompted largely by Germany's increasingly aggressive behaviour. In addition to the Wellington, Britain introduced the Blenheim and Battle (both light bombers), and the Hampden and Whitley (medium bombers). The United States, with a wary eye on the growing military strength of Japan, was also building: the B-17 'Flying Fortress' flew (unimpressively) in prototype in 1935 and was in production in 1939, the B-24 'Liberator' flew in prototype in 1939, and the A-20 was in service with the French Armee de l'Air by early 1940. The German Heinkel He 111 joined the Do 17 in military use by 1937, and performed impressively with the Kondor Legion in Spain, where it was joined by the amazing Ju 87, the 'Stuka'.
Even more extraordinary was the development of a new generation of fighter aircraft. The Hawker 'Hurricane' and Supermarine 'Spitfire' in Britain, the Messerschmitt Bf 109 and Bf 110 in Germany, [12] and the Bell P-39 Airacobra, Curtiss P-40 and Lockheed P-38 'Lightning' in the U.S. were only some of the fighters developed during the late 30s. Even in their early versions, all but one of these were much faster than previous fighters, with maximum speeds ranging from 320-380 mph. The exception was the early Bf 109, at 292 mph, but by 1939 the 109E (the 'Emil') flew at over 350 mph. And this was just the beginning. Four days before the September 1, 1939 invasion of Poland, the first jet-powered aircraft was flown. It was German - a Heinkel 178.
In truth, the development of the stressed-skin, single-winged, multi-gunned fighter signalled the end of the bomber's invulnerability, though this was little understood or went unrecognized for some years to come. It was hard to consider the bombers vulnerable when unopposed swarms of Luftwaffe aircraft were reducing Warsaw to rubble.
Separate Visions: Britain and Germany
Germany's destiny, as proclaimed by her leader, was as a continental power with status commensurate with her genius and with sufficient lebensraum for the Volk, that semi-mythical assemblage of peoples who shared a cultural and linguistic base that far outstripped national boundaries. By the lights of the NSDAP, Germany's rightful coming of age was denied by the treachery of her politicians at a time when her army was at its height in 1918, and by the punitive nature of the Treaty of Versailles which established totally iniquitous war reparations. Only the will of the people, following a strong leader, could re-establish Germany's place, reunite the Germanic Volk, and overturn the treaty restrictions to lead the country into her rightful future. 'Ein Volk, ein Reich, ein Fuhrer' was not just a Nazi slogan: it was a distillation of Germany's vision of her future.
The remilitarization of the Rhineland in violation of Versailles took place in1936, and Austria was quickly, dramatically and peacefully returned to the fold in the Anschluss (1938). The Sudetenland and the remainder of Czechoslovakia soon followed - to the lasting shame of Britain and France. But the Munich crisis of September, 1938, and Chamberlain's pathetic cry of "peace in our time", finally drew a line, at least with the people of Britain: after Munich, appeasement was a shameful word. When Hitler's eyes turned towards the ancient Hanseatic city of Danzig, France and Britain offered guarantees to Poland in the event of German aggression.
It may seem almost fatuous to state that Germany's armed forces were designed to attack. But the compelling vision of land and people first expounded in Mein Kampf made some sort of war probable if not inevitable. If the Reich could not grow peacefully, as it had in Austria and Czechoslovakia, then it must grow as the result of a test of wills. And the additional land required to provide lebensraum for the people must at any rate be obtained from others. To this end, the military forces of the Reich were geared for conquest, for the rapid and devastating subordination of the will of others to the requirements of the German people.
The first two 'blitzkriegs' - the assault across the plains of Poland and the magnificent armoured thrust through the Ardennes into the heart of France - demonstrated the efficacy of using armour, infantry, artillery and air bombardment in co-ordination. The Luftwaffe was not working independently; it was an extension of the artillery arm of the Wehrmacht. This is so whether it was razing Warsaw with wave upon wave of He 111s and Do 17s, using the Stukas to silence enemy strong points, or strafing troops and civilians with Bf 109s.
The May 14 bombing of Rotterdam, so roundly condemned by the allies, is the exception which proves the rule. The threat of bombing was certainly a bargaining chip in surrender discussions with Dutch officials. The raid itself was in all likelihood an accident hinging on a too-late recall and only partially successful attempts by German officers already in the city to signal the aircraft away. The use of glider troops in the spectacular assault on Eben Emael was much more in keeping with German tactical use of air power.
The Germans were, in other words, using their air component as a tactical arm. Their bombers - the Heinkels, the Dorniers, the Stukas - were neither designed nor intended for strategic use. When the time came for the air assault on Britain, the Luftwaffe had planes to spare, and they charged a frightful toll during the hard nights of 'the Blitz' from September, 1940 to May, 1941. But though their bomb capacity had increased quite dramatically, they were the wrong planes in the wrong hands. Goering and his advisors had neither the weapons nor the military insight to use the Luftwaffe in a strategic role.[13] This was so in 1940, and remained so to the end of the war. Tactically, the Wehrmacht remained the finest fighting force of the war until very near the end, in part because of its ability to co-ordinate various branches of arms, including the Luftwaffe.
Britain was in a very different situation from Germany. Together with her vast dominions and colonies - what she continued to consider her 'empire' - Britain had few wars to fight and little to prove. A relatively poor nation after the economic, social and cultural drains of World War 1, Britain maintained the appearance of the most powerful nation on earth through the inter-war years. Through bluff, arrogance and the traditions of enlightened leadership she had developed and continued to foster, Britain sought to maintain the status quo with as little inconvenience and expense as possible. Her military mirrored those aims. The Royal Navy had completed no major building programs, and relied on an aging fleet to keep the sea lanes open and to maintain a presence globally. Her army remained small by continental standards. Her air force was torn between the jingoistic need to justify its continued existence as an independent offensive service arm, as Arthur 'Boom' Trenchard had insisted upon since the end of World War I, and the more practical requirement of maintaining a defensive shield against aggression.
Germany's rise to power under the Nazis shook Britain's military and political leaders to the core. Particularly after the Munich crisis, when the probability of war became more certain, an Air Ministry assessment of military readiness was less than sanguine, indicating that both Fighter and Bomber Commands were unprepared for an early call to war.
Despite some innovative initiatives, neither command had sufficient trained pilots. In Bomber Command, this extended to all other air crew: gunners; navigators; wireless operators. The Voluntary Reserve, begun in 1937, had helped address the lack of pilots, but not nearly quickly enough. And although the RAF had a fine training school both for ground and air crew, the number of bodies completing the training was below requirements. Exacerbating this, there were insufficient aircraft to train even the pilots and crew they had. Aircraft in existing squadrons were being cannibalized to keep other planes in readiness; to remove yet more for training purposes could prove disastrous.
Bomber Command faced at least three additional difficulties. One was theoretical, and would remain so until the first days of the war: based on admittedly few training exercises, there was some indication that whenever bombers and fighter faced each other as adversaries the bombers would be bested. The second was largely technological: in 1939 there were no accurate, reliable navigation aids. In simple terms, how does a pilot bomb a target if he cannot find it? How does he find it at night? The third difficulty was related to the second. Even if reliable navigation devices had been available, pilots and navigators had simply not had enough experience flying through adverse weather to be successful in the range of conditions to be expected in northern Europe. Having been 'stood down' in inclement conditions during peacetime - a sensible precaution in terms of crew and aircraft safety, though not exactly forward-thinking when training for war - aircrew were totally unprepared for the seasonal hazards of fog, snow, ice and cold.
Whatever the British would learn in 1939 about the limitations of their own air power, there is every indication that they were still convinced of the devastating power of a strategic enemy air force. Between Munich and the beginning of the war, thousands of Anderson Shelters were distributed and erected in back yards across the nation. Plans were put in place for the evacuation of 1,500,000 children and mothers from London and other likely targets. So many deaths were expected from bombing that the cost of wood for coffins alone was deemed prohibitive, and it was decided that mass graves and burning with quick lime would provide the only option to the nation. [14]
The Phoney War: September, 1939-April, 1940
On the day after Britain declared war, two operations would provide evidence of how Bomber Command's three difficulties would affect strategic bombing, though it would take time for Air Ministry staff to read the entrails. Of 15 Blenheims sent to bomb warships at Wilhelmshaven on September 4, five never found the target, five were lost to enemy action, and five returned to base. On the same day, 14 Wellingtons were sent to Brunsbuttel, again against warships. Flying through severe weather conditions, only six found the target. One plane attacked with no success, three declined to attack in the face of heavy flak, and two were destroyed by Luftwaffe fighters. The verdict was in, though the Air Ministry would take some time to pronounce sentence.
One other issue arose during those first few months of conflict. In response to a September 1 request by President Roosevelt, Britain and France agreed to refrain from bombing undefended towns or targets where civilians could be injured. [15] This was confirmed by the British Cabinet on September 11. [16] Germany gave its support to Roosevelt's request September 18. Under this constraint, as interpreted by the RAF, a warship tied to a dock should not be attacked for fear bombs may hit the dock instead of the ship herself. This would continue even after the German invasion of Denmark and Norway in April, 1940: RAF bombers were abjured from endangering Norwegian or Danish soil or civilians, though their best chance of affecting the invasion forces was to attack them at the docks while they loaded troops.
Throughout the winter of 1939/40, weather permitting, Bomber Command remained active within the constraints. By day, Blenheims and Hampdens searched for German naval vessels at sea. By night, Wellingtons and Whitleys peppered the German countryside with propaganda leaflets. By April, 1940, when Air Marshall Portal became head of Bomber Command just days before the Norwegian campaign, certain facts were inescapable concerning the British bomber offensive:
1. British bombers had trouble finding their targets during daylight raids except in good weather.
2. British bombers who found their targets were ineffective in hitting them.
3. The delivery of bombs was severely hampered by target restrictions.
3. Many British bombs were 'duds', ineffective when they struck targets.
4. British bombers could not defend themselves adequately against flak or fighter opposition.
5. Alternative methods of delivering bombs (i.e., night bombing) compounded the difficulties of daylight bombing, and added the difficulties of night navigation, night bombing accuracy, and safe return to base.
Against this rather bleak catalogue, there was one glimmer of hope. Pilots and air crew were gaining valuable experience in night flying and navigation, and they were gaining familiarity with their equipment. Occasionally there were tremendous losses, particularly when bombers and fighters met. But morale remained high, and to the beginning of the Norwegian campaign losses to Bomber Command were only 4.1 percent. [17] The obverse was less comforting: there was very little offense in the bomber offensive.
At the same time, Britain could tally the German ledger and draw their own conclusions:
1. German bombers appeared to be effective in raids against cities (the destruction of Guernica was a still a recent event, and Warsaw had been severely battered).
2. German aircraft of all types had proved to be effective against forces in the field (as demonstrated by the rapidity of Poland's defeat).
3. German bombers seemed capable of finding and damaging their targets.
It is possible that Britain misread the auguries in all this. Guernica was, particularly in the scale of things in the broader war, a minor success against no air defense. Warsaw demonstrated the use of German bombers as long-range artillery, rather than providing proof that "the bomber would always get through". This may not have been obvious at the time: blitzkrieg was a new and frightening phenomenon, and the Germans were never slow to exaggerate their successes for propaganda purposes.
France and the Low Countries: May-June, 1940
When the Germans began their two-pronged attack on the West on May 10, plans were in place for the bombers. Ten squadrons of Fairey Battles in France, attached to the British Expeditionary Force (BEF) as the Advanced Air Strike Force (AASF), would provide tactical support to the army; they would be supported by the Blenheims of 2 Group, who would remain based in England. The 'heavies' (Hampdens, Wellingtons and Whitleys), their flight no longer restricted by the neutral air spaces over the Netherlands and Belgium, would disrupt communications and transportation directly behind the German front. Significantly, the 'heavies' were initially restricted to bombing west of the Rhine: the proscription against bombing undefended land and civilians remained in place until May 15, the day after German bombers hit Rotterdam.
The story of the AASP is a sorry one. The crews - they stand with the torpedo bomber crews at Midway - deserve far more recognition for their courage than they have received. Committed to daylight attacks, they were slaughtered in planes that had no business at the sharp edge of battle.
Counting aircraft destroyed or written off, 40 per cent of the Battle sortees had been lost on 10 May, 100 per cent on 11 May, 62 per cent on 12 May. Within forty-eight hours the number of serviceable bombers in the AASF had shrunk from 135 to 72. [18]
The Battles were withdrawn from daylight service on May 14, with losses at 50 percent.
The Blenheims of 2 Group fared better, but only marginally. On May 14, two squadrons (24 aircraft) attacked the bridgeheads near Sedan. Five were lost to flak, and two others made forced landings. Three days later, 82 Squadron lost 11 of 12 aircraft. Henceforth, the Blenheims would fly with fighter protection when available: for the RAF in May, 1940, unsupported daylight bombing finally became too expensive.
From May 15 to June 25, there was only one night when Bomber Command aircraft - predominantly 'heavies', though with some Blenheims - were not in the air. The rapid collapse of the Allied armies - Holland surrendered on May 14, Belgium on May 28, and the BEF was gone by June 4 - curtailed the strategic use of the 'heavies': they were directed to attack German troop concentrations as often as they attacked German industry and synthetic oil plants.
When they did bomb industrial targets, their success was often minimal. The operations for June 18/19 could be considered typical in many ways:
69 aircraft - 38 Whitleys, 26 Wellingtons, 5 Hampdens - were sent to oil targets at Hamburg, Bremen and in the Ruhr and to railways at many other places. 2 Whitleys and 1 Wellington were lost. Hamburg reports 9 fires, 6 of them large ones, 1 civilian killed and 6 injured. [19]
For the most part, the 'heavies' undertook night operations singly: a squadron may be assigned a target and an alternate, but each aircraft would often choose its route and time of departure. Formation flying was out of the question, and "streaming" was two years in the future. The 69 aircraft flying on June 18/19, it is worth noting, were attacking a number of targets over a large area.
On June 17, France sued for "peace with honour". The terms were ratified on June 21, to become effective June 25. The Battle of France was over.
As the RAF regrouped for the coming battle, there was little to cheer about. From all commands, total aircraft losses were close to 1000, with Bomber Command itself losing about 145. The lessons of the six weeks were very similar to those of the 'phoney war':
1. The light bombers of Bomber Command were outclassed and outdated.
2. Daylight bombing by 'heavies' could only be accomplished with adequate fighter coverage, except at the cost of prohibitive losses.
3. Night bombing cut the loss rate, but dramatically reduced the ability to find targets.
4. Night flying - navigation, target acquisition, return to base - remained challenging for all but the finest crews.
Crews that hit their targets at night were buoyed by their success, which was positive for morale. Also positive was the perceived lack of fighter threat at night. Flak, however, was considered fierce.
If the loss of aircraft were not enough, the cost in personnel was also high. Almost 700 aircrew lost their lives, and at least 230 were taken prisoner. This placed a tremendous burden on Training Command, who had to meet the dual challenge of rebuilding Bomber Command and strengthening Coastal Command while meeting the more urgent demands of Fighter Command, who would carry much of the burden in the coming weeks. The 'pipeline' of trained aircrew from the CATP was still a long way in the future.
Fighter Command
Whatever dates are chosen, the events of the summer of 1940 are normally described collectively as the Battle of Britain. Sometimes the start date is given as early July, with the start of what the Germans called the Kanelkampf (Channel Battle), the attempt to close the English Channel to British shipping. Others choose to mark the beginning at August 12, the eve of Adlertag (Eagle Day), when the Luftwaffe began its systematic attacks to eliminate the RAF from the skies of Britain. Some say the battle lasted only until September 6, after which the Luftwaffe concentrated on the bombing of London (and, later, other cities), while September 15 is celebrated as Battle of Britain Day. All agree that the Battle was over by September 17.
Or nearly all. Some claim that the Battle of Britain was a creation of Churchill's rhetoric, and was kept brief and shining to celebrate the bravery 'the Few' and manufacture a much-needed morale boost; some argue that the Germans continued to pound Britain with relative impunity until the spring of 1941 - the period the British call "the Blitz" - and that the attacks on Britain ceased only with the requirements for Barbarossa, the assault in the east originally set for May, 1941. By the lights of this last argument, it is as if there was never really a battle at all: it was a matter of expedience that, since the troops and planes were on the shores of the Atlantic and only 20 miles from England, Germany should test British mettle. Since the test was 'inconclusive', and since the troops and planes were needed elsewhere and Britain would in any case be starved by the U-boats and surface raiders, it was sensible to get on with more important matters. [20]
It seems plain, however, that - however bleak it was for Britain by September 15, whether for the military (totally defeated in France), the Royal Navy (unable to keep the Channel open, and with an immensely increased burden to assume) or the RAF (with Fighter Command losing the battle of numbers, particularly for pilots) - Britain had won a victory. The Wehrmacht wanted to invade, and was not given the opportunity; the Luftwaffe could not wipe the RAF out of the skies. By whatever name we call the struggle over England in the summer of 1940 - and "Battle of Britain" certainly seems both accurate and appropriate - the German armed forces had suffered their first reverse. In a contest of wills, Nazi Germany had not had its way.
The Boffins' War: Part I
While the Battle of Britain is not strictly speaking part of the bomber offensive, Bomber Command (together with Coastal Command) had its role to play. That role will be discussed in the next section. But at some point - and because of its central role in the Battle of Britain, this seems a suitable place - the most astounding device of the war must be introduced. That device is radar.
The British used the abbreviation RDF (Radio Direction Finding), either as a subterfuge or as a relatively accurate description of its function. The Americans called it radar, the name that - like flak for anti-aircraft fire - became an eponym. By whatever name it was called, it was one of the most astounding developments of the war, a development that kept pace with the war to provide ever more accurate means of finding, seeking, identifying and directing weapons of war.
England was neither the first nor the only nation to develop radar before the war. Germany had its Freya system, used to detect attacking RAF bombers in 1939, and its Würzburg, which was directing flak as early as May, 1940. At sea, the U.S. Navy was exploring radar to assist in battle manoeuvres, while the Germans had already equipped some of their ships with Seetakt. [21]
In Britain, RDF developed very quickly - and almost by accident. The time from the first exploration of the concept of radar to its overpoweringly incisive use during the Battle of Britain was only five years. For the British, however, the impact of radar hinged on four other factors: timing; location; IFF (another 'Boffin' development) and - to a large extent - serendipity. And without RDF Germany would have won the war against England in the summer of 1940.
Briefly, those four factors were as follows. First, Britain was still working out the bugs in their RDF in 1939. If the Germans had attacked prior to 1940, radar would not have been available. Secondly, the fact that Britain is an island, and knew where likely attack would come from made the placement of the Chain Home (CH) and Chain Home Low (CHL) stations much more effective. CH equipment was bi-directional: it did not have a moving head, and therefore could look only in one direction (e.g., West) and on the reciprocal (e.g., East), which was masked. Hence the need for the plethora of towers ringing the south and east coasts of the island. CHL radar had a rotating head, and was adapted from Royal Navy investigations in the field. Third, an electronic signature (IFF: Identification Friend or Foe) identifying a friendly aircraft allowed ground personnel to distinguish British fighters from intruders. Finally, the capabilities of RDF, primitive as they were in 1940, were combined with the dedication of the Observer Corps., a vast network of communications equipment, and surprisingly sophisticated evaluation, tracking and communications networks to place Fighter Command's 11 Group in the path of oncoming Germans. It provided Fighter Command with incredible advantages in the battle, and explains why Luftwaffe aircrew were amazed, day after day, at the appearance of "the last 50 Spitfires" the British could put in the air.
Radar, radar jamming and radar development will appear again and again in any narrative of the air war - or indeed most parts of the war. It improved night-fighter capabilities, searchlight and flak accuracy, defense against the U-boat, ship-to-ship gunnery, the development of proximity shells, aerial navigation, bomb delivery, and much else. Its discovery and development is one of the great stories of the war - as important in its own way as the Manhattan Project and the development of atomic weapons - and deserves separate attention. [22]
Bomber Command
Even before the fall of France, the Air Ministry met to create policy and directives for the coming battle. They were geared to an obvious end: to defeat enemy intentions in the immediate future. For Fighter Command, the requirement was clear: defend against the air assault that was imminent. For Bomber Command, the directives of June 20 were two-fold: medium bombers were to attack shipping, troop build-up and enemy airfields; 'heavies' were to focus upon enemy aircraft production. Other targets were indicated as well, and mine-laying ops ('gardening', in RAF slang), as opportunity arose.
For medium bombers, read Blenheims: the remnants of the 10 Battle squadrons assigned to AASF were re-entered on the strength of Bomber Command, but the aircrews were retrained for Wellingtons, while the Fairey Battles themselves were largely turned over to Training Command. [23]
The Blenheims were directed to operate only under the cover of cloud if unescorted, and their loss rate remained low under these conditions. When they were attacked by fighters, however, their loss rate soared.
Over the course of the summer, the directives received by Bomber Command would change with astonishing rapidity as new threats were perceived or new targets gained priority. July 4 brought a concentration on shipping targets; July 13 called for renewed assaults on aircraft production. In truth, Bomber Command was largely on the defensive, countering enemy moves, though as the summer stretched on the attacks on oil, aircraft factories and warships continued. Much of this activity was ineffective, and 'heavies' were losing more aircrew than were lost to the enemy as a result of their bombing.
The major turning point of the summer occurred when, after jettisoned German bombs fell on London, Churchill demanded a raid on Berlin in retaliation. To this point, Hitler had been firm in his refusal to allow Luftwaffe bombing of London. But the accidental or misdirected release of bombs on cities and towns was not that unusual despite prohibitions. Nevertheless, on the night of 25/26 August, Bomber Command conducted its first raid on Berlin.
As a raid, it was a failure. Berlin was shrouded in cloud and most of the bombs missed the city: there were only two recorded injuries resulting from the attack. Goering was humiliated by the raid, however, and Hitler was outraged, particularly when a further raid occurred on the last night of August. On September 7, the Luftwaffe was given the geen light and London came under bomber attack: 'the Blitz' had begun. [24]
At about the same time, the build-up of invasion barges was accelerating, and Bomber Command, with Coastal Command, was directed against the barges, troop assembly areas and other critical targets such as the Dortmund-Ems aqueduct. By September 21, Blenheims, Hampdens and Battles had destroyed just enough barges (about one-eighth the almost 1900 assembled) to discourage the Wehrmacht from attempting an invasion on the timetable first given by Hitler on 16 July. In effect, the invasion threat was over. The aerial assault on London would continue, and would spread to other British cities over the next eight months. The Battle of the Atlantic would continue (in the U-boats' favour) for the next two years. Allied troops would face the see-saw of North Africa, defeat in Greece and Crete, and humiliation in the Far East. The fall of Singapore would signal the end of empire. But for the moment, England was unconquered.
Ending the Year
While the threat of invasion was not entirely dissipated after September, there was sufficient photographic evidence to suggest that the Wehrmacht had been stood down. What remained was the Luftwaffe assault on British cities, which continued well into 1941. Before it ended, a host of cities - Southampton, Birmingham, Coventry, Liverpool, Glasgow, Plymouth, and Portsmouth among them - would feel the weight of German bombs. A new verb would be added to the language: 'to conventrize' or destroy a city by aerial bombardment.
In contrast to Bomber Command, the Luftwaffe had considerable success in finding and hitting its targets. The Germans had developed two techniques, Knickebein and X-Gerät, which were instrumental in bringing their bombers over the target. [25] Knickebein was relatively simple and used equipment already in place on German bombers. It was also relatively easy to disrupt, and the British were successful in jamming it quite early. X-Gerät, on the other hand, required more highly trained crews and more specialized equipment. It was also more difficult to jam, and the British were not truly successful until 1941. In 1940, the use of X-Gerät fell to KG 100 (Kampfgruppe 100), a specialist squadron who would mark the target for the following bomber stream.
In September, some saw Germany's assault upon London as an economic attack, trying to destroy the London docks (the great weight of the bombing was in the dock area). To others, the attacks were class-based, slaughtering the working poor and leaving the wealthy relatively unscathed (the working poor lived in the East End, in the vicinity of the docks). With the scope of German raids increasing to encompass the provincial cities, however, it became apparent that the attacks were simply designed to damage as many British cities and people as possible. The British were undergoing a form of 'area bombing', a type of bombing that the British were exploring for use by Bomber Command.
Area bombing, in its simplest form, is simply the bombing of an area of ground rather than a specific target. To this point in the war, the British had had no success with precision bombing: they lacked the bomb-sights and navigational skill which, together, were the only means of bombing precisely. They had no idea how inaccurate their bombing was; that would only be demonstrated late in 1941, with the Butts Report. By and large, British authorities believed, however erroneously, that if bomber crews could find their target they would hit the target. Perhaps they were assuming that they were having the same success the German bombers were enjoying, for the Germans were certainly hitting their targets.
On nights when targets were obscured by cloud or by lack of moonlight - in other words, on more than 75 per cent of the nights - Bomber Command attacks on generalized industrial targets became a permitted alternative. Since in wartime any industry can be deemed a war industry, large industrial areas are legitimate targets. Ancillary damage - damage to buildings adjacent or proximate to industry - may be regrettable, but is to be expected: collateral damage will always occur, with attendant loss of non-combatant life. Area bombing is, by definition, imprecise.
The issue becomes somewhat more complex if the focus of the attack is shifted even slightly. The people working in the industrial area may become the focus of the attack, using the argument that a war industry cannot produce without war workers. Killing the workers may indeed be a more effective means of slowing or halting production than destroying the plants. The death of workers then becomes not regrettable but a goal. This too is area bombing.
A third shift of focus is also possible. In total war, all enemy people are part of the war effort. Therefore any enemy person is a legitimate target. In effect, any place where there are concentrations of people becomes a legitimate target. This too is area bombing. But it may also be described as indiscriminate bombing.
Towards the end of 1940, questions concerning area bombing by Bomber Command were still largely theoretical: not until early 1942 did policy include area bombing as such. But those with power, or in a position to direct bombing policy, could see in 1940 the effect of Germany's air offensive, and could sense the strain on the morale of the British population. Popular history has it that British morale never broke, and this is largely correct, but it was cracked badly at Coventry and was put under severe strain elsewhere. The desire of these leaders, from Churchill down, to generate the same pressures on Germany, would be understandable. Their resolve could find its way into war directives against the enemy. The execution of these directives would depend on decisions made by Commander-in-Chief (C-in-C) Bomber Command.
Sir Charles Portal was C-in-C Bomber Command from April 4, 1940. He was promoted to Chief of Air Staff on October 4 of the same year. A strong supporter of area bombing, Portal was largely considered to be comfortable with the bombing of civilians. While C-in-C, he was undoubtedly aware of the ineffectiveness of current bombing policy, and was anxious to improve Bomber Command's success rate. He would carry this concern to his new posting.
Portal was replaced as C-in-C by Sir Richard Peirse, who was much more conservative. Coming to Bomber Command in October, 1940 from the Air Staff (where he had been Vice-Chief), he was convinced that current bombing practices were effective and should be continued. Peirse would carry Bomber Command through its worst period, and would be relieved of his command in early January, 1942. He would be replaced by Sir Arthur Harris.
Harris would take command at a time when new bombers, new equipment and new weapons were finally coming on-stream. He would remain C-in-C until the end of the war. We will return to "Bomber" Harris later.
The State of Bomber Command
The final three months of 1940 were months of trial for Bomber Command. Air Ministry directives continued to direct its aircraft against the same targets it had had in the past. The October 30 directive mentions minelaying; rail yards; selected Italian industrial areas; and synthetic oil production facilities. To these it added an additional target - general industrial areas - for nights when cloud cover might obscure specific targets. If the aim of bombing synthetic oil facilities was to reduce the oil available to Germany, the aim of hitting general industrial areas was to show the strength, power and destructive capabilities of the RAF.
Unfortunately, Bomber Command was in no condition to meet the directives. Added to the by now familiar litany of difficulties - targeting problems, navigation difficulties, night landing fears, need for fighter escort, and weather challenges - was the problem of staffing.
RAF losses since May had been large, and not just in Bomber Command. Fight Command had lost heavily in the hard fighting against the Luftwaffe. Pilots were the main concern; but ground crew had been hit hard as well during German attacks on the Fighter stations of 11 Group. Coastal Command, faced with a massive increase in the area for which it was responsible, was desperate for multi-engined pilots.
Bomber Command was in no better shape. From July to October, 246 aircraft were lost, over 100 more than the 143 lost in May and June. In addition, the Battles were gone, and the replacement Wellingtons were slow in coming. Planes and crews were drained to support North Africa and Greece. OTUs needed experienced crews for training, and Coastal Command would borrow crews and planes whenever possible.
Nevertheless, Bomber Command attempted to meet the directive of October 30. Still optimistic that they could damage Germany's war-making capacity, they pressed on with precision attacks on synthetic oil facilities and other military targets. Nuisance raids were sent to Berlin, to little effect. Of significance, however, is that area bombing of civilians was not pressed, either because Portal was still prepared to try precision bombing or because Peirse chose targets - such as coastal cities - which could be found more easily and therefore bombed more precisely. Only once, at Mannheim on 18/19 December, was an urban civilian area targeted, in response to the razing of Coventry.
Show Part 1 Notes
Footnotes
[1]. The Local Defense Volunteers, or LDV, were intensely active and patriotic, but were very low on the priorities list for supplies, uniforms and equipment of any sort. Thus, they armed themselves with whatever weapons they could muster, including fowling pieces, swords, pikes and scythes. During the 'phoney war' the LDV was seen by many as a slightly comical organization; some wits said that LDV stood for "look, duck and vanish". When Churchill came to power, one of his first acts was to have their name changed to "Home Guard".
[2]. During the Battle of France, the French government pleaded with Churchill for more fighter support. He was willing to provide any support he could to his beleaguered allies, and did in fact promise that further squadrons would be sent. He was later convinced that the aircraft were crucial to the defense of Britain, and withdrew his promise. The planes were not sent.
[3]. Air Chief Marshall Sir Hugh Dowding, head of Fighter Command, is an easy figure to poke fun at. Known, rather unkindly, as 'Stuffy', Dowding's career was effectively over before he took command of Fighter Command. His persistence in retaining the squadrons Churchill wished to send to France may have incurred the latter's displeasure, but Dowding was the mastermind behind the aerial defense of Britain in 1940.
[4]. The dispute between Dowding (and his 11 Group commander, Keith Park) and Trafford Leigh-Mallory, commander of 12 Group (and Squadron Leader Douglas Bader) was not just vicious and shameful. Given the battle in progress over Britain, it was potentially suicidal. Instigated by Leigh-Mallory, it was ostensibly a disagreement on means of engaging the enemy; because of the fame and connections of Douglas Bader, who flew despite having lost both his legs while "stunting" in 1931, the controversy was eventually raised in Parliament. Largely because of Leigh-Mallory's attack, Dowding, the architect of Fighter Command's success during the crucial summer months, was relieved of his command in November, 1940, and was given 24 hours to vacate his office. Park, his excellent subordinate, was sent to Training Command.
[5]. There were four major Commands in the RAF: Fighter Command; Bomber Command; Coastal Command; and Training Command. In general terms, Coastal Command focused its attentions on the sea, providing reconnaissance, convoy protection and U-boat patrols. Training Command changed its name and structure from time to time, but was in general responsible for advanced aircrew training, both for operations (through OTUs ; Operational Training Units) and for conversion to new aircraft as they made their appearance (through HCUs ; Heavy Conversion Units). Basic training (in gunnery, wireless, navigation, and flying) was conducted increasingly in commonwealth countries through the Commonwealth Air Training Program (often called by the British the Empire Air Training Programme). There were other commands as well, such as the AASF (Advanced Air Stiking Force) attached to the BEF in 1939/40 and the TAF (Tactical Air Force) used largely for ground assault in 1943/45.
[6]. Barnes Wallis played a surprisingly large role in Britain's air war. The Wellington was only the first of his successes. Later in the war he was to design the spinning mine that was used by 617 Squadron, the famous "Dam Busters" to breach the Ruhr dams. Later still Wallis designed two other bombs ; Tall Boy, and Grand Slam ; that demanded great precision-bombing to be effective. They were used against railway tunnels, viaducts and other targets, including the Tirpitz, later in the war.
[7]. The development of the Lancaster is a fascinating one. Essentially, one of the three 'heavies' being developed by Britain ; the two-engined Manchester ; performed acceptably and had immense carrying capacity, but was plagued with Vulture engines. By modifying the wing and installing four Merlin engines in place of the two Vultures, one of the greatest bombers of the war was born.
[8]. By the summer of 1940, the Ju-87 (the famous 'Stuka') was past its prime, though it continued in operational use almost to the end of the war. An easy target when caught in air-to-air combat, the Ju-87 was unsurpassed as a ground-support weapon, having the ability to place its bomb-load with incredible accuracy. During the early summer of 1940, Stukas devastated British convoys in the English Channel.
[9]. D. Richards, The Hardest Victory, p. 69.
[10]. The British favoured the name 'fighter', having relinquished the older term 'scout'. They also tended towards the use of names to designate their aircraft, whether fighters or bombers, the name to be followed by a 'mark' number to distinguish improvements in design or change of function (e.g., Spitfire Mk. XII; Mosquito Mk. IV).
The Americans entered the war calling their fighters 'pursuit' aircraft, which (I suspect) explains the 'P-' designation (e.g., P-38; P-39; P-40; P-51). Their bombers seemed to be separated slightly by function: the A-20 (for 'Attack'?) v. the B-24 (for 'Bomber'), with a letter appended to signify modifications (e.g., B-17G). Americans would also assign a name to their aircraft: the 'P-38 Lightning'; the 'P-51 Mustang'; the 'B-24 Liberator' and so forth.
American planes purchased by the British might be given new names: e.g., the USAAF A-20G Havoc was designated the RAF Boston IV.
German aircraft took their names from the builder, and would usually distinguish versions by adding a letter as a suffix, often followed by a numeral (e.g., Focke-Wulf Fw 190F-9; Heinkel He 111E-3; Junkers Ju 87B-1). Occasionally, other means of distinguishing various versions of German aircraft were used: e.g., to the best of my knowledge the Dornier Do 217 is a much updated version of the Do 17, and the final, high altitude version of the Fw 190 was designated the Ta152 in honour of the 190's designer.
For an explanation of the Messerschmitt designations, see note 3, below.
[11]. In many ways, the Strategic Defense Initiative(s) in the U.S. are a continuation of the debate over whether the bomber will always get through. So was Mutual Assured Destruction (MAD).
[12]. Willi Messerschmitt was a man unpopular with the Nazi regime, but two of his designs - the 109 and 110 - were accepted by the Luftwaffe. Because his factory was the Bayerische Flugzeugwerke, the designations became Bf 109 and Bf 110. With a change in company name to Messerschmitt A.G., subsequent designs bore the Me designation: e.g., the Me 262 jet fighter, which threw such a scare into B-17 crews.
[13]. The development of the Me 262 jet fighter is a case in point. When it first began to appear against the B-17 and B-24 formations in late 1944, it created havoc. Faster than all other fighters, the 262 was a very difficult target, even for the agile P-51. Not only that but the turret gunners could not track it, because their hydraulics were geared to much slower planes.
The Me 262 could have been made available much earlier in the war, when experienced pilots and fuel were in more abundant supply, but the development was held up in an attempt to make the plane function as a dive-bomber in addition to a fighter. The impact of such a plane even one year earlier in the war cannot be determined, but the allies were lucky that Nazi officials caused its delay.
[14]. Harrisson, Living Through the Blitz, p. 26.
[15]. Middlebrook and Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 19.
[16]. Goralski, World War II Almanac 1931-1945, p. 93.
[17]. Middlebrook and Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 30. A note concerning Bomber Command losses: they are accurate within their limitations, but do not include many aircraft or crew lost in training, crash-landing, or to friendly fire. Aircrew were aware of this policy as they counted their way towards 30 ops, since they would be asked to train new crews at OTUs, where crash rates could be high.
[18]. Richards, Hardest Victory, p. 46.
[19]. Middlebrook and Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 53.
[20]. There is a tendency to treat this argument lightly, and to write glibly about it. This is not my intention. In German eyes, Britain was no longer a threat and could be left to wither, cut off from food, weapons and support.
[21]. After Graf Spee was scuttled in Montevideo harbour, the British who examined her wreck were very concerned with Seetakt and the advances Germany had made in radar.
[22]. There are excellent studies of radar's development. David Fisher's Race on the Edge of Time) is excellent; Deighton's Fighter gives several pages to radar in the Battle of Britain. More studies, capturing the complexities of the subject in layman's language, would be appreciated.
[23]. The Battles were to return to active duty at least once more, during the concentrated assault on invasion barges during the middle of September.
[24]. 'The Blitz' became almost proprietary to the British, signifying the German bombing of British cities, and a wonderful new verb, "to blitz", entered the language. A Londoner whose home was destroyed by bombs would say he was "blitzed". London was to be hit for 76 consecutive nights (with one exception, in early November) during the autumn and winter of 1940, but German attacks on London and other cities would continue into the late spring of 1941. Those living in other cities, who didn't feel the weight of assault as London did, would mark events by the date of attack, as this comment from a Liverpool mother shows: "Our Pat, she was born in the [sic.] March, 1941, just before the May Blitz." (Pete Grafton, You, You and You, p. 32).
[25]. Essentially, both Knickebein and X-Gerät involved the use of radio beams which would guide an aircraft to a location where an intersecting beam would signal the point of bomb release or the activation of timing equipment. In 1940, both were well in advance of British techniques for target marking. Even after the war, Churchill would pour scorn on Knickebein and X-Gerät, citing their use as proof that Germans were only good at following directions (see, e.g., Hastings, Bomber Command, p. 189). Yet later in the war, Bomber Command would use a very similar technique, Oboe, for target marking and would introduce the Pathfinder Force (PFF) and specialist squadrons (e.g., 617). The USAAF would try a different technique, involving master navigators and "Toggliers" to improve its ability to saturate a target.
1941 Synopsis
[1]. The Local Defense Volunteers, or LDV, were intensely active and patriotic, but were very low on the priorities list for supplies, uniforms and equipment of any sort. Thus, they armed themselves with whatever weapons they could muster, including fowling pieces, swords, pikes and scythes. During the 'phoney war' the LDV was seen by many as a slightly comical organization; some wits said that LDV stood for "look, duck and vanish". When Churchill came to power, one of his first acts was to have their name changed to "Home Guard".
[2]. During the Battle of France, the French government pleaded with Churchill for more fighter support. He was willing to provide any support he could to his beleaguered allies, and did in fact promise that further squadrons would be sent. He was later convinced that the aircraft were crucial to the defense of Britain, and withdrew his promise. The planes were not sent.
[3]. Air Chief Marshall Sir Hugh Dowding, head of Fighter Command, is an easy figure to poke fun at. Known, rather unkindly, as 'Stuffy', Dowding's career was effectively over before he took command of Fighter Command. His persistence in retaining the squadrons Churchill wished to send to France may have incurred the latter's displeasure, but Dowding was the mastermind behind the aerial defense of Britain in 1940.
[4]. The dispute between Dowding (and his 11 Group commander, Keith Park) and Trafford Leigh-Mallory, commander of 12 Group (and Squadron Leader Douglas Bader) was not just vicious and shameful. Given the battle in progress over Britain, it was potentially suicidal. Instigated by Leigh-Mallory, it was ostensibly a disagreement on means of engaging the enemy; because of the fame and connections of Douglas Bader, who flew despite having lost both his legs while "stunting" in 1931, the controversy was eventually raised in Parliament. Largely because of Leigh-Mallory's attack, Dowding, the architect of Fighter Command's success during the crucial summer months, was relieved of his command in November, 1940, and was given 24 hours to vacate his office. Park, his excellent subordinate, was sent to Training Command.
[5]. There were four major Commands in the RAF: Fighter Command; Bomber Command; Coastal Command; and Training Command. In general terms, Coastal Command focused its attentions on the sea, providing reconnaissance, convoy protection and U-boat patrols. Training Command changed its name and structure from time to time, but was in general responsible for advanced aircrew training, both for operations (through OTUs ; Operational Training Units) and for conversion to new aircraft as they made their appearance (through HCUs ; Heavy Conversion Units). Basic training (in gunnery, wireless, navigation, and flying) was conducted increasingly in commonwealth countries through the Commonwealth Air Training Program (often called by the British the Empire Air Training Programme). There were other commands as well, such as the AASF (Advanced Air Stiking Force) attached to the BEF in 1939/40 and the TAF (Tactical Air Force) used largely for ground assault in 1943/45.
[6]. Barnes Wallis played a surprisingly large role in Britain's air war. The Wellington was only the first of his successes. Later in the war he was to design the spinning mine that was used by 617 Squadron, the famous "Dam Busters" to breach the Ruhr dams. Later still Wallis designed two other bombs ; Tall Boy, and Grand Slam ; that demanded great precision-bombing to be effective. They were used against railway tunnels, viaducts and other targets, including the Tirpitz, later in the war.
[7]. The development of the Lancaster is a fascinating one. Essentially, one of the three 'heavies' being developed by Britain ; the two-engined Manchester ; performed acceptably and had immense carrying capacity, but was plagued with Vulture engines. By modifying the wing and installing four Merlin engines in place of the two Vultures, one of the greatest bombers of the war was born.
[8]. By the summer of 1940, the Ju-87 (the famous 'Stuka') was past its prime, though it continued in operational use almost to the end of the war. An easy target when caught in air-to-air combat, the Ju-87 was unsurpassed as a ground-support weapon, having the ability to place its bomb-load with incredible accuracy. During the early summer of 1940, Stukas devastated British convoys in the English Channel.
[9]. D. Richards, The Hardest Victory, p. 69.
[10]. The British favoured the name 'fighter', having relinquished the older term 'scout'. They also tended towards the use of names to designate their aircraft, whether fighters or bombers, the name to be followed by a 'mark' number to distinguish improvements in design or change of function (e.g., Spitfire Mk. XII; Mosquito Mk. IV).
The Americans entered the war calling their fighters 'pursuit' aircraft, which (I suspect) explains the 'P-' designation (e.g., P-38; P-39; P-40; P-51). Their bombers seemed to be separated slightly by function: the A-20 (for 'Attack'?) v. the B-24 (for 'Bomber'), with a letter appended to signify modifications (e.g., B-17G). Americans would also assign a name to their aircraft: the 'P-38 Lightning'; the 'P-51 Mustang'; the 'B-24 Liberator' and so forth.
American planes purchased by the British might be given new names: e.g., the USAAF A-20G Havoc was designated the RAF Boston IV.
German aircraft took their names from the builder, and would usually distinguish versions by adding a letter as a suffix, often followed by a numeral (e.g., Focke-Wulf Fw 190F-9; Heinkel He 111E-3; Junkers Ju 87B-1). Occasionally, other means of distinguishing various versions of German aircraft were used: e.g., to the best of my knowledge the Dornier Do 217 is a much updated version of the Do 17, and the final, high altitude version of the Fw 190 was designated the Ta152 in honour of the 190's designer.
For an explanation of the Messerschmitt designations, see note 3, below.
[11]. In many ways, the Strategic Defense Initiative(s) in the U.S. are a continuation of the debate over whether the bomber will always get through. So was Mutual Assured Destruction (MAD).
[12]. Willi Messerschmitt was a man unpopular with the Nazi regime, but two of his designs - the 109 and 110 - were accepted by the Luftwaffe. Because his factory was the Bayerische Flugzeugwerke, the designations became Bf 109 and Bf 110. With a change in company name to Messerschmitt A.G., subsequent designs bore the Me designation: e.g., the Me 262 jet fighter, which threw such a scare into B-17 crews.
[13]. The development of the Me 262 jet fighter is a case in point. When it first began to appear against the B-17 and B-24 formations in late 1944, it created havoc. Faster than all other fighters, the 262 was a very difficult target, even for the agile P-51. Not only that but the turret gunners could not track it, because their hydraulics were geared to much slower planes.
The Me 262 could have been made available much earlier in the war, when experienced pilots and fuel were in more abundant supply, but the development was held up in an attempt to make the plane function as a dive-bomber in addition to a fighter. The impact of such a plane even one year earlier in the war cannot be determined, but the allies were lucky that Nazi officials caused its delay.
[14]. Harrisson, Living Through the Blitz, p. 26.
[15]. Middlebrook and Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 19.
[16]. Goralski, World War II Almanac 1931-1945, p. 93.
[17]. Middlebrook and Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 30. A note concerning Bomber Command losses: they are accurate within their limitations, but do not include many aircraft or crew lost in training, crash-landing, or to friendly fire. Aircrew were aware of this policy as they counted their way towards 30 ops, since they would be asked to train new crews at OTUs, where crash rates could be high.
[18]. Richards, Hardest Victory, p. 46.
[19]. Middlebrook and Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 53.
[20]. There is a tendency to treat this argument lightly, and to write glibly about it. This is not my intention. In German eyes, Britain was no longer a threat and could be left to wither, cut off from food, weapons and support.
[21]. After Graf Spee was scuttled in Montevideo harbour, the British who examined her wreck were very concerned with Seetakt and the advances Germany had made in radar.
[22]. There are excellent studies of radar's development. David Fisher's Race on the Edge of Time) is excellent; Deighton's Fighter gives several pages to radar in the Battle of Britain. More studies, capturing the complexities of the subject in layman's language, would be appreciated.
[23]. The Battles were to return to active duty at least once more, during the concentrated assault on invasion barges during the middle of September.
[24]. 'The Blitz' became almost proprietary to the British, signifying the German bombing of British cities, and a wonderful new verb, "to blitz", entered the language. A Londoner whose home was destroyed by bombs would say he was "blitzed". London was to be hit for 76 consecutive nights (with one exception, in early November) during the autumn and winter of 1940, but German attacks on London and other cities would continue into the late spring of 1941. Those living in other cities, who didn't feel the weight of assault as London did, would mark events by the date of attack, as this comment from a Liverpool mother shows: "Our Pat, she was born in the [sic.] March, 1941, just before the May Blitz." (Pete Grafton, You, You and You, p. 32).
[25]. Essentially, both Knickebein and X-Gerät involved the use of radio beams which would guide an aircraft to a location where an intersecting beam would signal the point of bomb release or the activation of timing equipment. In 1940, both were well in advance of British techniques for target marking. Even after the war, Churchill would pour scorn on Knickebein and X-Gerät, citing their use as proof that Germans were only good at following directions (see, e.g., Hastings, Bomber Command, p. 189). Yet later in the war, Bomber Command would use a very similar technique, Oboe, for target marking and would introduce the Pathfinder Force (PFF) and specialist squadrons (e.g., 617). The USAAF would try a different technique, involving master navigators and "Toggliers" to improve its ability to saturate a target.
If 1940 was a bad year for Britain, 1941 was worse. A brief list of major war-related events shows how pressed the British were:
Increased activity in the
Atlantic came close to overwhelming the British lifeline.
The German air assault on
British cities continued to May 16, with little hindrance. [1]
The British were driven
out of Greece. [2]
The British were driven
out of Crete, with substantial military and naval losses.
The war in North Africa
(the Desert War) went sour with the German introduction of what the allies call
"The Afrika Corps".
The British were under
tremendous pressure in Iraq and the Lebanon.
On May 24, Hood was blown
up, with only three crew members surviving, while engaged at long range by
Bismark and Prince Eugen. While Bismark was eventually sunk, the RN did not
find Prince Eugen.
Though elements of the RN
had two singular successes at Taranto and off Matapan, the Mediterranean was,
in effect, closed to British convoys to Malta from Gibraltar and Alexandria.
This allowed the Germans and Italians to supply their North African forces
almost at will. [3]
On December 10, Prince of
Wales and Repulse were sunk off Malaya by Japanese aircraft.
There were some positive developments as well, though some of them did not appear as such at the time:
On June 22, the Wehrmacht
invaded the Soviet Union, expecting a quick and decisive victory. This provided
Britain with an ally that was expected to fall to the Wehrmacht in six weeks.
[4]
On July 8, Churchill and
President Roosevelt met in Argentia Bay, Newfoundland. From this meeting came
the Atlantic Charter. [5]
President Roosevelt
increased American presence in the Atlantic, and was supported by Admiral King,
who placed his forces on an "all but war" footing.
On December 7, the
Japanese attacked Pearl Harbour, forcing the Americans into a war with Japan.
Meeting a commitment he had made to the Japanese ambassador earlier in the
year, and despite advice to the contrary, on December 11 Adolf Hitler declared
war on the United States, thus bringing the U.S. into the European war.
These events form the backdrop against which Bomber Command played its role in 1941. It was the hardest year that Bomber Command was to face.
Strategically, the goals of Bomber Command did not change with the changing year. Synthetic oil production facilities continued to receive top priority early in the year because it was thought Germany's oil supplies were dwindling. Enemy-held ports and harbours ; always the easiest targets to find ; continued to receive attention. General industrial areas were still target options when weather or ground haze made precision bombing impossible. During the long winter months in northern Europe, there were many nights when industrial urban targets were the only ones that were realistically available.
Operationally, however, Bomber Command's targets shifted according to the requirements of the nation or the whim of its leaders. By late February, the slaughter of merchant ships in the Atlantic, coupled with the continued threat posed by Kriegsmarine surface vessels ( Scharnhorst, Gneisenau, and Tirpitz were the main concern), caused new directives to be issued for bomber assaults on U-boat pens and capital ships along the entire Atlantic coastline, from Norway to the Bay of Biscay. The Blenheims, for their part, were to share their time between "hit-and-run" raids ("Circuses") against towns in France and the Low Countries and ; after the end of April ; attacks on enemy coastal shipping ("Channel Stop").
From mid-March until the middle of the summer, the "heavies" of Bomber Command, working with Coastal Command, were active over many Atlantic coast ports. The impact of this attention may be inferred, though not really proven, by the sharp decline in merchant shipping losses to U-boats by early July. On July 9 a new directive returned Bomber Command to its primary task of bombing German industry.
The directive might be new, but little else was. Bomber Command itself was not growing rapidly enough to mount large-scale attacks. Bomber crews still had no reliable navigation aids. It still found daylight raids, when it tried them, prohibitively costly in machines and men. It still had no means of bombing a target accurately once the bombers found it. It was still constrained by the lack of trained air- and ground crew.
However., while the bombers continued their (largely ineffectual) assault on Europe, the very nature of the air war was changing.
The Development of the Night Fighter
Throughout the first two years of the war, bomber crews noted that, whatever other difficulties arose from night bombing ; navigation, bomb aiming, returning to base safely ; there were few fighters to contend with, though flak appeared heavy, and was disturbingly accurate. This changed at the end of June, 1941, when German night fighters appeared, and had considerable effect almost immediately.
We tend to forget how immensely large the sky is. Even setting the ceiling at only 20,000 feet ; an acceptable operational altitude in the early war years ; it is possible for two planes to be within very few miles of one another on a clear day and not see one another. [6] Add the cloak of darkness and a blacked-out landscape and the task is multiplied a thousand-fold.
Both British and German air forces had experimented with night fighters early in the war. Both began by using fighters, in part because of the speed necessary not just to find but to close with an enemy intruder. For the most part, these early attempts involved simply placing an aircraft in the skies during a raid and hoping it would be able to find the enemy. Needless to say, this didn't work. The solution, both sides knew, was airborne radar. As early as June, 1940, the British had developed a primitive air-borne radar unit, but there was no aircraft in the British arsenal that was both big enough to carry the unit and fast enough to catch German bombers.
After the fall of France, the onset of mass bombing taught Germans and British alike that daylight bombing must give way to night raids. As a result, efforts to develop effective night fighter capabilities increased on both sides.
The man assigned the job of establishing night fighter defences for Germany was General Josef Kammhuber, appointed in October, 1940. He created a formidable night fighting structure that, with variations, was to challenge Bomber Command from 1941 to 1944. It was known to the allies as the Kammhuber Line. It relied on radar.
The Kammhuber line was a series of "boxes" set approximately 20 miles apart, stretching from Denmark to the Bay of Biscay. Each box contained three radar units ; one Freya unit, for long-range detection of incoming planes, and two short-range Würzburg units, one for tracking the raider and the other for tracking the night fighter. Ground controllers would interpret the signals from the Würzburg units and direct the night fighter towards intercept. The size of the box was determined by the effective reach of the radar involved.
While this method was inefficient in terms of radar equipment, night fighters and qualified ground controllers ; the controller could handle only one intercept at a time ; it provided an effective means of countering what to the Germans were increasingly irritating raids by Bomber Command. In 1941, given Bomber Command's practice of sending relatively small numbers of aircraft against targets, German night fighter techniques were efficient enough to cause Bomber Command legitimate concern over the increasing loss rate for bombers after June, 1941.
The Butt Report
To date, Bomber Command had no real means of determining the success rate of its operations. Air crew were bringing back glowing reports of fires raised, damage done and targets destroyed, though independent sources were providing a much less sanguine picture. Air Ministry and Bomber Command officials were not unaware of the discrepancies. But means of verification were slow to develop. It was not until 1941 that effective cameras were mounted on a sufficient number of bombers to give some means of assessing how the war was being executed.
Preliminary assessments of raid photos were not encouraging, but had not received comprehensive attention. Lord Cherwell, [7] Churchill's personal scientific advisor, suggested a systematic review of the photographs by a disinterested official, and the Butt Report was born. D.M. Butt, of the War Cabinet Secretariat, reviewed over 600 operational photos, comparing them with crew claims and Bomber Command assessments.
The results of the Butt Report, ready in August, 1941, were not at all encouraging. It provided evidence, literally in black-and-white, not only that Bomber Command's offensive was ineffective but that the training and capabilities of most of its air crew were well below acceptable levels.
| 1. | Of 100 bombers setting out on an operation, many never found the target. |
| 2. | Of those attacking the target, on average only one-third placed their bombs within 5 miles of the target. |
| 3. | In hazy or inclement weather, the number of bombers finding the target was only one in ten. |
| 4. | On moonless nights, only one bomber in 15 found the target. [8] |
The impact of the Butt Report was to be much farther-reaching than was at first evident. Bomber Command was surprisingly ready to accept the findings and to begin looking for solutions that would lead to improvement. But beginning with the Butt Report, a pronounced scepticism at the highest levels was to dog Bomber Command from this time forward: Churchill, who in October, 1940, saw the bomber as the only arm of victory, would never again fully trust Bomber Command pronouncements or claims. With the German invasion of the Soviet Union, Churchill saw another means ; however shaky at present, with the Soviet military being driven back closer and closer to Moscow and Leningrad ; by which Germany could be defeated.
Bomber Command leaders would place increasing demands for accuracy and results on their air crews, while choosing more demanding targets for their crews to attack. The air crews themselves, shaken by Butt's findings, would suffer a crisis of confidence, and would also push themselves and their planes to the limit to prove that they were having a positive effect on the war effort. In September of 1941, Bomber Command remained England's only offensive weapon. [9]
New Weapons
In 1941, a new generation of weapons was being introduced to Bomber Command. New bombs were being developed, as the deficiencies of (until then) standard ordnance were no longer accepted. At the same time, new bombers were beginning to appear at the squadron level. While neither the bombs nor the aircraft which appeared in 1941 marked the end of weapons development, their appearance and capabilities pointed the way to a harsher air war over Europe. The more critical need ; for even rudimentary navigational devices ; would not be met for another year, while the myriad developments in radar were still largely to come.
Bombs
The science of bombing ; if one can call the ability to kill people more effectively a science ; grew more sophisticated during 1941, though not to the level it would obtain later in the war. In effect, there were three basic types of bombs: high explosive; incendiary; and (although they were called GP, for General Purpose) anti-personnel. In 1939, the standard 250 lb. GP bomb dropped by the RAF was ineffective. It was too small to do the requisite amount of damage, and a great many of them were defective. The GP was replaced by a 500 lb. bomb, known as a "medium capacity" bomb. A new incendiary was also developed. The largest bomb in the arsenal grew to 4,000 lb.
Without going into detail, new bombs were seen as a necessary development. Starting in September, 1940, Britain¹s leaders had learned a great deal about bombing: they had seen the impact of high explosives on London. The devastation caused by "land mines", the susceptibility of tightly-packed buildings to incendiaries, and the tension surrounding the use of "delayed action" bombs were duly noted. They recognized that the new "medium capacity" bomb could do a better job of opening the hearts of cities. They knew at first hand that more effective incendiaries could better exploit the increased targeting of civilian or non-industrial properties. New "heavies" were coming on line, capable of carrying a much larger bomb load. By the end of the war in Europe, when the weight of a bomb was still more important than TNT equivalency, Bomber Command would be carrying specialized bombs as heavy as 22,000 lb.
Later in the war, the bombing procedure was almost performed by rule of thumb: "open" the target with high explosives in the first wave, "exploit" the opened areas with incendiaries in the second, and "hamper" the civil defence workers with anti-personnel bombs, mixed with other types, in the third. The only questions were centred on percentages of bomb type by wave, the percentage of delayed-action bombs to be dropped, and the timing between waves. In 1941, however, Bomber Command had neither the aircraft nor the navigational skills to generate waves of bombers. That particular refinement was still in the future.
New Heavy Bombers
In 1936, the Air Ministry had issued Specifications P/13/36 and B/12/36 for four- and two-engined bombers categorized as "heavy" or "medium heavy". Based on wind-tunnel testing and prototype flights, three companies ; Short (the "Stirling"), Handley-Page (the "Halifax") and Avro (the "Manchester") ; were given funding to develop a new generation of "heavy" bombers for the RAF. Squadrons were being equipped with the new aircraft by late 1940, though none flew on operations until 1941.
With the hindsight of sixty years it is hard to appreciate the enormous strides that the new "heavies" represented. For those of us accustomed to travel by jet, the new "heavies" would appear puny and primitive indeed. But they were an enormous advance in nearly every sphere, including size, number of crew, bomb load, armament and avionics (if such a word existed in 1941), compared with even a fine aircraft like the Wellington, whose design was only four years older.
The table below lists some of the "vital statistics" by which bombers can be compared. I have included "marks" of the Wellington and the Heinkel operational in 1940 for points of comparison, and have used data only for the first "marks" of the new "heavies".
| Plane | Size |
Engines (hp) |
Bomb Load (lbs) |
Ceiling (mph) |
Speed (miles) |
Range (miles) |
Arms (def) |
Crew | |
| Span | Length | ||||||||
| Wellington Mk I | 86' 2" | 64' 7" | 2X1,050 | 4,500 | 22,000 | 230 | 2,200 | 4 .303 mg | 6 |
| Heinkel 111H | 74' 2" | 53' 10" | 2X1,350 | 4,400 | 21,980 | 258 | 1,212 | varied | 5 |
| Stirling Mk I | 99' 1" | 87' 3" | 4X1,500 | 17,000 | 16,500 | 255 | 2,330 | 8 .303 mg | 8 |
| Halifax Mk I | 98' 8" | 70' 1" | 4X1,130 | 13,000 | 18,000 | 255 | 1,860 | 10 .303 mg | 7 |
| Manchester Mk I | 90' 1" | 69' 0" | 2X1,760 | 10,350 | 18,000 | 265 | 1,630 | 8 .303 mg | 6 |
| Lancaster Mk I | 102' 0" | 69' 4" | 4X1,460 | 14,000 | 24,500 | 287 | 1,660 | 8 .303 mg | 7 |
Data are never static when dealing with operational
aircraft. I am skeptical about the four-gun armament in the Wellington, for
example; the Wimpey was upgunned early in her career, with a new nose turret,
combinations of ventral or beam guns, and ; in the Mk III ; a quad tail turret.
Engines too changed relatively rapidly, though more powerful engines did not
necessarily affect other performance numbers, since additional weight (in
additional armour or self-sealing fuel tanks, for example) would offset
additional power. Range, too, can be misleading: the Wellington's range of
2,200 miles, for instance, is achieved at a sacrifice in bomb load (only 1,500
lb.). Data sources also often disagree. Some give the Lancaster's range as
1,660 miles (30 miles greater than the Manchester), while others list it as
great as 2,530 miles (with a 7,000 lb. bomb load); some give the Manchester's
ceiling as 18,000 feet, while others place it as low as 10,000 feet. The
telling numbers from an operational point-of-view are bomb-load and number of
crew: a 25 percent increase in crew is balanced against a 350 percent increase
in carrying capacity.
The Short "Stirling"
The Stirling was expected to be Bomber Command's main bomber. Her development
was plagued with difficulties. Her wingspan was shorter than the designer
wished, which affected her lift; her lift affected the length of her take-off,
leading to changes affecting her undercarriage. But above all, she had a
relatively low ceiling, which made her vulnerable to light flak. The Stirling
entered RAF service late 1940, flying on operations in early 1941. She was a
disappointment, and although she flew well into the war (and, I believe, many
of her crews were comfortable with her), she never met her expectations.
With the cold logic and black humour of war, the Stirlings were cheered (by
Lancaster and Halifax crews) whenever they were on ops with Lancs and Hallys.
With their low ceilings, Stirlings provided excellent targets for flak, which
kept the guns away from the rest.
The Handley-Page "Halifax"
The Halifax was a sound, reliable bomber with an early, well deserved bad
reputation. The Mark Is had problems with the tail design, and were known by
air crew as an aircraft that did not respond well to violent manoeuvres: many
Hallys were lost in flying accidents at the training level. But with a
redesigned tail assembly, the Hally proved to be a work-horse for the RAF both
as a bomber and ; later in the war ; as a glider tug, target aircraft, and
transport. Originally equipped with Rolls Royce Merlin engines, later Marks
worked equally well powered by the Bristol Hercules. First introduced to
service in late 1940, the Hally first flew on ops in early 1941. With a decent
bomb capacity and good range, she provided excellent service. At least some
Halifax air crews preferred her to the Lancaster ; in part, perhaps, because
statistically there appeared to be a much better chance of escaping from a
stricken Hally than from a Lanc.
The Avro "Manchester"
Of all the new designs, the least satisfactory was the "medium heavy"
Manchester. The Manchester was a two-engined plane in a new world running on
four engines. Smaller, and with a lighter bomb load than the Stirling or
Halifax, the Manchester still more than doubled the bomb load of the
Wellington. The Manchester was ordered into production before a prototype had
been constructed, a strong indication of the Air Ministry's urgency for heavy
bombers.
The Manchester was not a happy aircraft for the RAF, though opinions now vary.
Some say she was a sound aircraft with ineffective and unreliable engines: she
was equipped with very powerful Rolls Royce Vultures (24-cylinder hybrids
created by joining two 12-cylinder Rolls Royce Kestril engines) which were
subject to rapid overheating. Others say she was simply a bad design: her tail
assembly, for example, was weak and did not provide necessary lateral
stability, a problem that was never really solved, even with the introduction
of a third tail fin. More disturbing, the Manchester could not maintain height
on one engine.
Entering service in November, 1940, and flying on operations on February 24/25,
1941, the Manchester was a "lame duck" aircraft from the beginning. The
much-redesigned Manchester Mk II was already being tested, and existing
Manchester air frames were being reconfigured for the new design. So different
was the new "mark", and so dubious the reputation of the Manchester Mk I, that
Avro gave it a new designation: the Lancaster.
The Avro "Lancaster"
From its first flight on January 9, 1941, the Lancaster was recognized as a
superlative aircraft. Strong, powerful, forgiving and relatively easy to fly,
the Lanc was destined to become the main weapon Bomber Command would direct
against Germany. Basically a Manchester with increased wingspan (to accommodate
an additional two engines), reliable engines (the marvellous Merlins rather
than the unpredictable Vultures) and a redesigned tail, the Lancaster went
through many modifications during the war. She first flew on operations in
early March, 1942.
New Light Bomber
With the development of the new "heavies", the Air Ministry had considered
eliminating the "light" bomber category. Fortunately, de Havilland were able to
convince the Ministry that there was room for a light, fast, agile bomber. The
result was the De Havilland "Mosquito", which was to play a role out of all
proportion to its size. Based on the design of an earlier De Havilland
transport aircraft, the Mosquito prototype flew just 11 months after
Specification B/1/40 was issued. By the end of 1941, the "Mozzie" was in
squadron service ; as a bomber (the B.IV), fighter (F.II), night-fighter
(NF.II) and unarmed reconnaissance aircraft (PR.I). She excelled in every field
in which she was placed.
Built entirely of wood and powered by either Rolls Royce or Packard Merlins,
this twin-engined bomber was designed as a "fast bomber" that could outrun
fighter opponents. While this smacks of the propaganda surrounding Germany's
special-engined Do 17 in 1937 (which was designated a "schnellbomber"), in the
case of the Mosquito the plane performed above expectations. A table comparing
the Mozzie with the Blenheim ; the "light" bomber that was brought into service
in 1937 and was slowly being phased out in 1941 ; demonstrates the strides that
had been made in design and performance. I have based Blenheim data on the
basic Mk IV (there were many configurations); for the Mosquito I have used data
for the B.IV, the first large-scale bomber configuration.
| Plane | Size |
Engines (hp) |
Bomb Load (lbs) |
Ceiling (mph) |
Speed (miles) |
Range (miles) |
Arms (def) |
Crew | |
| Span | Length | ||||||||
| Blenheim Mk IV | 56' 4" | 39' 9" | 2X920 | 1,000 | 29,500 | 283 | 1,460 | various | 3 |
| Mosquito B. IV | 54 '2" | 40' 6" | 2X1,230 | 2,000 | 30,000 | 380 | 1,860 | various | 2 |
The Blenheim had served well since 1937, and the Mk
IV represented the maximum configuration that could be forced out of the old
design. For the Mosquito, on the other hand, the B.IV was only the beginning:
later configurations would accept an increased bomb load (to 4,000 lb.), or
would fly higher (up to 42,650 ft.) or have longer range (3,500 miles) or
higher speed (up to 425 mph). But from the introduction of the B.IV, the
Mosquito carried double the bomb load of the Blenheim, and delivered it 100 mph
faster. At 380 mph, the B.IV compared well with the latest fighters: she was
marginally faster than the Spitfire Mk V (374 mph) and just slower than the
Messerschmitt Bf 109F (388 mph).
Personnel
In early 1941, Bomber Command was not much larger than it had been in
September, 1939. Despite active recruitment, operational losses and the needs
of other Commands meant that there were simply insufficient trained men upon
which Bomber Command could draw. During the 1930s Britain had an effective
"in-house" training program for pilots and other air crew, though it seems
rather haphazard in retrospect. Much of the training was conducted in
operational squadrons, where ground crew could learn certain air crew functions
by hands-on flying. This continued well into the first months of the war.
In addition, elementary training was offered in Australia to a limited number
of that country's youth, who would be granted short-term commissions in the RAF
upon completion of their training. The RAF felt it was good for the service to
maintain a leavening of "colonials" within its structure, and similar programs
were proposed in New Zealand, South Africa and Canada as well.
As a peacetime procedure, the practice worked well, but it was recognized as
early as 1936 that a more comprehensive training program would be required.
Arthur Tedder, then in charge of RAF training and eventually to serve as
Eisenhower's deputy, suggested looking to the commonwealth for a greatly
expanded training program. Given the increasingly sour political climate of
Europe, Canada was an obvious choice. Closer to Britain than other commonwealth
countries, and with vast open spaces, lengthy coastlines and close proximity to
the manufacturing might of the United States, Canada met all Britain's
requirements. Yet even then, the program was to be British ; a larger version
of the Empire Air Training Scheme established in Australia, but in the end
offering (in 1937) only 15 "places" in the RAF to British-trained Canadians.
Unfortunately, for a variety of political reasons the Canadian government was
at best lukewarm to British discussions on the subject of "Empire" training
schemes. [10] At one level, the political structure of Canada was still
responding to the imposition of conscription during the Great War: nobody
outside Canada can appreciate the tension between francophone and anglophone
over the conscription of men to fight in an English cause. At a second level,
Canada was herself only recently "freed" from colonial status, and was less
than enthusiastic about placing any part of its armed forces under British
control. No astute Canadian politician could ignore these political realities ;
and Mackenzie King, the Liberal Prime Minister, was a very astute politician.
Without rejecting Britain's proposals, he set ground rules which included
Canadian control over any training facilities which ; largely at British
expense, and using RAF training personnel ; might be established. The British
military mission returned to Britain empty-handed, but with some hope for the
future.
When Britain declared war on Germany on September 3, 1939, Canada did not
follow suit until September 10. It has been suggested that this "tardiness" was
to allow time for American war-related goods to be shipped to Britain through a
neutral country. Yet however efficiently an order could be placed and filled,
it seems improbable that an additional week would provide sufficient time. The
reason for the delay is likely much more political than military. With a
federal election in the wings for early 1940, Mackenzie King delayed Canada's
declaration until it could be made with the Canadian House of Commons in
session ; another proof of Canadian sovereignty ; while assuring francophones
that Canada was not blindly demanding that all its citizens declare themselves
"for King and country". In the hearts of many Canadians, Canada was not under
threat, and King George VI had no legitimate claims on their loyalty.
So too with Canadian acceptance of the Commonwealth Air Training Program
(CATP), the training child that had been so long abirthing. Until Canadian
sovereignty was seen to be assured, and until the results of the federal
election (called for March, 1940) were as decided as political events could be,
King held off. Not until December 17 did a final agreement (among Canada,
Britain, Australia and New Zealand) on a training program become a reality ;
and that only after frantic last-minute negotiations. Canada gained much of
what it wanted. Chief among its demands: administrative control over the
program; and the creation of a separate RCAF structure within the RAF. In
Bomber Command, that translated into the establishment (on January 1, 1943) of
6 Group (RCAF), flying out of the Vale of York and headquartered at Allerton
Park.[11]
Canada was hopelessly ill-prepared for the CATP. Largely a rural, disconnected
country, Canada had neither an infrastructure capable of dealing with the
CATP's size and complexity, nor the financial resources required. Nor was the
RCAF, with its peacetime complement of 4,000 officers and men, qualified to
train or administer the undertaking. Nevertheless, with financial assistance
and RAF trainers to leaven the process, the first bases were opened for
training by the end of April, 1940 ; after the federal election.
Initially, CATP air crew trainees received basic training as pilots,
navigators, observers, bomb aimers, wireless operators and gunners. Ground crew
were also needed: fitters, artificers, mechanics and the like were included in
the training scheme. By all accounts, the courses were demanding and the
instructors sound, if unimaginative. Despite the tardy start, "graduates" began
to appear before the end of 1940. Pilots, navigators, air observers, wireless
operators and gunners had met the basic standards and could pin on the wings
and badges appropriate to their status as qualified air crew.
By early 1941, the first new air crew were arriving in Britain. They were still
only fledglings, and faced many more months of advanced training (later to be
undertaken in Canada as well) and operational training through the RAF OTUs.
Typically, it might take 18-24 months from enlistment to first op.,
particularly for a pilot or navigator; taking May, 1940 as a beginning point, a
pilot (gunner, bomb aimer, W/O) might be ready to join a squadron, if not yet
to fly against Germany, by late 1941. [12] The length of the training
period explains why the full flood of CATP-trained air crew did not start
appearing on operations until early 1942. When they arrived, they went to RAF
commands, whether Bomber, Fighter, or Coastal.
During the hard months of 1941, however, there continued to be a shortage of
trained air crew. Harris, who would take command in February, 1942, would
benefit from the CATP program as Peirse, in 1941, could not.
July-December, 1941
While developments were taking place in weapons and personnel and aircraft and
enemy defences, flights of "heavies" continued ops over occupied Europe. To air
crew, a new aircraft six months down the line or a better bomb-sight by the end
of the year meant nothing. Their's was a world of two simple numbers: number of
operations completed; and percentage loss per operation. It took 30 ops to
complete a tour, and the actuarial chances of meeting that magic number was
determined by the results of each mission.
From all accounts, the official loss figures per mission did not affect the
crews as much as personal experience. If 12 Wellingtons of any given squadron
flew into the night and only eight came back, the 48 remaining air crew would
be aware of 24 empty places in the mess. This is not strictly accurate, of
course, since the strict separation of officers and enlisted men could appear
to dilute the losses. But the impact on air crew was inevitable, degrading, and
cumulative. Life became a question of luck, and death an expected event. Even
the language reflected this, from the rather whimsical "gone for a Burton" to
the more brutal "got the chop".
In the 126 days between 7/8 July and 10 November ; which mirrors pretty closely
the July to December period under discussion ; Bomber Command activities
yielded the following numbers (Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 219):
| Number of Operations | Number of Sorties | Losses (Planes) | Percentages | |
| Days | 83 | 1,567 | 112 | 7.1 |
| Nights | 92 | 11,991 | 414 | 3.5 |
| Total | -- | 13,558 | 526 | 3.9 |
| Average/24 hours | -- | 107.6 | 4.2 | n/a |
Without belabouring statistics or checking percentages of aircraft types included in the numbers given above, it is (roughly) acceptable to assume 4.5 air crew per aircraft (Blenheims carried three, Whitleys five, and Wellingtons six; the new "heavies" carried seven or eight). This means that about 2,400 men may have lost their lives in these 126 days. Some, of course, would have had the honour of being guests of the Third Reich. Some would escape, though chances were very slight. Significantly, however, the statistics record aircraft losses, rather than crew. And for the most part, the men continued to fly.
In the cold light of reality, bombers would continue to fly and air crew would continue to die. The question, to put it bluntly, is: what were they dying for? This is not as facile a question as it first appears. In truth, the air crew were trapped in the horrible gulf between an idea (to assault the Germans by day and night) and a reality (the assault is ineffective). They were also caught between the needs of government and the expectations of Bomber Command. They were the tools by which Bomber Command doctrine and commitment were determined, and upon which careers and reputations depended. And from late June of 1941 ; and more intensely after the Butt Report in August ; Bomber Command doctrine was being questioned by both the War Cabinet and the Air Ministry.
The issue came to a head in the final two months of 1941. The raids of 7/8 November
are often seen as the catalyst. On the surface the raids appear fairly
straight-forward. Max Hastings (Bomber Command, p. 126) offers the simplest
version, though his last sentence is chilling:On the night of 7 November 37 aircraft were lost out of 400 dispatched. 12.5 per cent of those sent to Berlin, 13 per cent of those sent to Mannheim and 21 per cent of those sent to the Ruhr failed to return. Only those sent to targets in France came home relatively unscathed.
Including those aircraft which had crashed inside England, the entire front line of Bomber Command had been statistically wiped out in less than four months.
Denis Richards (The Hardest Victory, p. 100) offers a much fuller story, and includes details of the weather:
No fewer than 169 [bombers] took off for Berlin, and 223 for other targets. But the weather proved too formidable; of the Berlin contingent, fewer than a half reached their objective, and those did little damage. The German capital was in any case at extreme range for the Wellingtons and Whitleys which formed the bulk of the force; and with much more thick, ice-laden cloud and higher winds on the return journey than had been forecast, it was not only the inexperienced pilots who found their petrol running dangerously low. Of the 169 aircraft sent to Berlin, 21 ; a shocking 12.5 per cent ; failed to return. ...
The losses on the Berlin raid, however, were not the only disaster on 7/8 November. Fifty-five aircraft took off for Mannheim ; seven (13 per cent) did not return. Another 43 went to the Ruhr, or mining; nine (21 per cent) were reported missing. Only the 133 sent against the nearer targets ; Cologne, Ostend and Boulogne ; got home intact.
The loss of 37 bombers in a single night ; more than twice a many as in any previous night's operations ; naturally resulted in enquiries.
Finally, Martin Middlebrook (Bomber Command War Diaries, pp. 217-18) details losses by aircraft type, and includes results from later research. His full entry for 7/8 November runs almost two pages. Below are excerpts:
BERLIN
169 aircraft ; 101 Wellingtons, 42 Whitleys, 17 Stirlings, 9 Halifaxes ; of 1, 3 and 4 Groups. 21 aircraft ;10 Wellingtons, 9 Whitleys, 2 Stirlings ; were lost, 12.4 per cent of those dispatched.
73 aircraft reached the general area of Berlin but could only claim fires on the outskirts of the city... . This was the last major raid on Berlin until January 1943.
MANNHEIM
53 Wellingtons and 2 Stirlings of 1 and 3 Groups. 7 Wellingtons lost.
43 crews bombed in this area and reported a large fire. A specific request to Mannheim [presumably made after the war] for a report for this particularly important night brought the reply that there was no record of any bombs falling in the city. It is not known where the bombs of this force fell.
...Total effort for the night: 392 sorties, 37 aircraft (9.4 per cent) lost. This loss was more than double the previous highest for night operations. It is probable than many of the casualties crashed in the North Sea, suffering from icing or fuel exhaustion in the bad weather conditions there.
The raid is worth looking at in such detail because it gives us a look at a major undertaking by 1941 standards, and measures (to some extent) Bomber Command's success. Of 224 aircraft sent against Berlin and Mannheim, only 116 ; a mere 52 per cent ; claimed to find their target. Twenty-eight aircraft (12.5 per cent) were lost: a total of 163 crew. As a result of the bombing, Berlin suffered 11 killed, 44 injured, and 637 bombed out and receiving official aid. Only 30 buildings, all houses, were declared destroyed, though more, including 16 wooden garden houses and one farm building, were damaged. Mannheim, as Middlebrook points out, has no record of an air attack on this date. There was nothing comforting to Bomber Command in any aspect of the raid.
Secondly, it introduces a further element ; weather ; which plays a large role in the outcome of this particular raid. Weather conditions affected many Bomber Command attacks between 1939 and the end of 1941, because weather hampered navigation and target location. In this raid, 57 per cent did not find Berlin, and 12 per cent did not find Mannheim. On 7/8 November, weather conditions were marginal at best, and may have been worsening, particularly given the distance to Berlin. Indeed, 5 Group had its Hampdens redirected to Cologne because of the worsening weather, which included stronger than anticipated head-winds on the return journey coupled with icing conditions.
Both Richards and Middlebrook suggest the weather played a role in the high loss rate, and they are undoubtedly correct. Yet it is worth noting that no planes are recorded as crashing in Britain ; as might be expected, given fuel limitations while trying getting back to base against head-winds ; though these data were recorded. [13]
Between them, the War Cabinet and the Air Ministry responded quickly to the events of 7/8 November. Within a week, a new directive was delivered to Bomber Command, invoking the need for restraint in target choice when factors (e.g., weather and distance) were adverse. In fact, the directive called for a scaling back of the bomber offensive, until weather and new equipment improved the possibilities for effective attacks. Even without knowing the ineffectiveness of their strikes, it was deemed unacceptable that Bomber Command should suffer such high loss rates.
Peirse, C-in-C of Bomber Command, felt that the capabilities of his air crew had been called into question, and argued that it would be counter-productive to limit the scope, size or timing of his assault. Indeed, he may have committed his forces to the raids of 7/8 November to prove that his command would not be deterred by weather. But in the face of the Butt Report and the coolness shown by Churchill and others to the claims for the bomber offensive, Peirse's response to this latest directive, while understandable, was dangerous.
Portal, until recently C-in-C of Bomber Command and now Chief of Air Staff at the Air Ministry, would not leave the matter alone. Through November and December, he checked statements and facts and weather data. By the end of the year, he had determined that Peirse was guilty of an error in judgment. He presented his findings to Churchill on January 4, 1942. Peirse was relieved of command four days later.
By the end of 1941 the war had broadened immeasurably. The United States and Japan had entered the war, making it truly global. But at home, Britain still had only one offensive weapon: Bomber Command. And the efficacy of the command was under intense and continuing scrutiny: the events of 1941 had so discredited Bomber Command claims that it would never fully recover. After a very rocky start in 1942, Bomber Command would go on to great heights, though never to the heights it claimed. After 1941, nobody in Britain outside Bomber Command was convinced it could do the job it had set itself.
Show Part 2 Notes
Footnotes
[1]. The British were attempting to develop night fighter capability, but without a good balance of aircraft and radar they were unable to mount an effective counter-offensive. An early air-borne radar device had been mounted in Blenheims as early as 1940, but the aircraft itself was too slow to intercept any intruders it detected.
[2]. Churchill was acting on commitments made to the Greek government. While it was fighting only the Italians, invading through Albania, the Greek government rejected his offer of assistance, but it changed its mind when German troops loomed to the north. The troops sent by Churchill were insufficient, ill-equipped, and unable to staunch the German onslaught.
[3]. That Malta remained unconquered is miraculous. For the British the three naval bases covering the Mediterranean ; Gibraltar in the west, Malta in the centre, and Alexandria in the east ; were a key to the shipping lifeline from India, Australia and New Zealand. Without this, shipments would have to circumnavigate South Africa and face the perils of the southeast Atlantic. The siege of Malta, and the difficulty in supplying this small island, meant that ; at least in the western half of the Mediterranean ; the Germans and Italians were virtually unopposed in ferrying supplies to North Africa.
[4]. Churchill, though always a staunch anti-Bolshevik, immediately made common cause with the Soviet Union, offering whatever assistance was possible. The Soviets were allies of necessity; Churchill is known to have said that if Hitler attacked Hell, he (Churchill) would have at least a few good words to say for the Devil.
[5]. In many ways, the meeting was not a success. Britain (and many military officials in the U.S.) felt that the announcements from the meeting would bring the U.S. close to war footing with Germany. Roosevelt was unprepared to go that far; he had a good reading of the American political pulse. The Atlantic Charter provided the framework for the United Nations.
[6]. I recently flew along the fringe of a torpedo test range in a small float-plane, a De Havilland "Beaver", during a training exercise. I watched an Orion make its pass and climb in front of my aircraft, and watched a helicopter dropping smoke buoys. My companion saw none of it, and accused me of inventing the story merely to add some excitement to the flight.
[7]. Lord Cherwell, when still Professor Lindemann, had endeared himself to Churchill many years before the war, and unfortunately his statements carried a great deal of weight. His was not a first-class scientific mind; his chief failings were his inability to listen to others and his insistence that his ideas must have merit. His obstructionism came close to derailing the investigation of radar in 1936, and there were countless other instances where his opinions were counterproductive. His suggestion for an evaluation of bomber success was nevertheless right on the money.
[8]. I have drawn heavily on Denis Richards, The Hardest Victory, p. 96, for information concerning the findings of the Butt Report. See also Max Hastings, Bomber Command, pp. 108-9.
[9]. The army, leavened by strong contingents of commonwealth and colonial troops, was fighting for its life in North Africa. Initially very successful against the Italian army, who proved incapable of giving Mussolini his day on a white charger, the British forces were gutted by Churchill¹s political decision to assist Greece, under (unsuccessful) assault by Il Duce¹s troops operating out of Albania and threatened by Wehrmacht forces to the north. The troops sent to Greece were insufficient both in numbers and in supply, and were driven first to Crete (a second Dunkirk?) and then, after a successful Luftwaffe paratroop invasion, to Alexandria (a third?). The troops remaining in Africa were insufficient in skill and logistics to confront the superior tactical abilities of Erwin Rommel, who was sent to Africa to support the Italians, and who drove the British back almost to Alexandria.
The Royal Navy, on the other hand, has much to answer for. Putatively the world¹s greatest navy, it had contributed little to the first two years of the war. The RN had a large array of capital ships, resting ; as they had during the Great War ; at Scapa Flow. They had a vast number of ships at sea ; corvettes and trawlers and minesweepers ; attempting to cover the lack of foresight characteristic of the Admiralty, which had proclaimed that the anti-submarine weapons of the last war would be more than adequate for the present one.
The RN had had its successes, at Montevideo (Graf Spee) and in the Atlantic (Bismark), and its Mediterranean fleet had achieved excellent results at Taranto and off Matapan. But it had also taken heavy losses during the Norwegian campaign and elsewhere. In the western Mediterranean, for example, the RN received a battering attempting to convoy supplies to Malta. And in one of its primary roles ; maintaining Britain¹s lifeline of merchant ships ; the RN proved itself but a pathetic remnant of its former self. It could not keep the Channel open (and asked the Blenheims to do the job of clearing German shipping), dared not attack Scharnhorst and Gneisenau while at Brest (and asked Bomber Command to sink them) and could not stop them from sailing through the Channel in daylight (and asked Bomber and Coastal Commands to do so), and was afraid of Tirpitz (and asked Bomber Command to disable her). It is little wonder that Bomber Harris told the Admiralty, rather acerbically, that he would take care of its problems "when he had a minute".
There are some excellent publications dealing with life in the "Andrew" during the war ; one that comes to mind is Heart of Oak, by Tristan Jones ; but they have received little attention. There is a great story dealing with RN weaknesses during the war. It is waiting to be told.
[10]. It is interesting to note that writers from Australia, New Zealand and Britain speak of the Empire Air Training Scheme (EATS), while Canadians speak either of the Commonwealth Air Training Program (CATP) or, more formally, of the British Commonwealth Air Training Program (BCATP).
[11]. Other commonwealth nations did not wring any concessions from Britain. Their pilots were part of the RAF command structure, and were placed where they were needed. There is a touch of bitterness in some current information about how Commonwealth air crew were treated under RAF command.
[12]. Flt/Sgt Geoffrey B. Whyte, for example, enlisted on September 14, 1940, graduated from Basic Gunnery School on June 23, 1941, and flew on his first raid (against Essen) on 5/6 June, 1942. Nine months were given over to basic instruction, but an additional 11 months elapsed before his first op.
[13]. It is difficult to establish exact numbers of aircraft losses, because the methods by which they were counted or excluded have never, to my knowledge, been clarified. Middlebrook separates losses from crashes on returning to England, and has a separate category for aircraft shot down over England by intruders (i.e., enemy night fighters). His numbers do not always tally in specifics with other sources of information, but this may reflect more on the quality of the original data than on the veracity of any source.
1942 Synopsis
At the end of 1941, the allies could only look forward to better times. Yet the early months of 1942 dealt them severe blows on nearly every front:
the
Royal Navy was humiliated (on February 12) when Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and
Prinz Eugen sailed through the English Channel in daylight, despite RN and RAF
attempts to stop them. Singapore
fell to the Japanese on February 15 (Hong Kong had already fallen, on Christmas
Day, 1941), effectively bringing to an end the British Empire. the
Philippines fell (April 9), eradicating the American presence in the south and
west Pacific. in
North Africa and the Mediterranean, Rommel remained a great threat (Tobruk fell
on June 21), and Malta was under unbreakable siege and was threatened with
invasion. a
so-called "dress rehearsal" for the invasion of Europe ended in slaughter at
Dieppe (August 19, 1942). renewed
German assaults against the Soviet Union conquered vast new territory. U-boats
came close to taking control of the Atlantic and the American Atlantic coast,
in a period known to the Kriegsmarine as "the Happy Time". convoys
to Murmansk and Archangel continued to be decimated by air and sea attacks. Japanese
advances threatened Australia.
The
Japanese Imperial Navy drove the RN from Ceylon without challenge (March 31);
the RN took refuge in the Persian Gulf (April 10). the
"Baedeker" raids (from April 24) began as reprisal raids for Bomber Command
bombing of German cities.On the other hand, later in 1942 and in the first days of 1943, events occurred which gave clear indication that the allied cause was, if not safe, then in the ascendant. Many are known by single names:
Midway
(June 4-7, 1942: Spruance inflicted a crushing defeat on the Japanese Imperial
Navy). Guadalcanal
(US Marines landed on 7 August, 1942). El
Alamein (Montgomery's troops attacked the Germans on October 23, 1942). "Torch"
(allied troops landed at three locations in North Africa, beginning November
7/8, 1942). Leningrad
(the siege was broken on January 11, 1943) Stalingrad
(von Paulus finally surrendered at the end of January, 1943).Closer to the war in Europe, events reflected the growing ability of the allies to take the offensive:
The
first elements of 8th USAAF arrived in England in 1942, and a massive growth
slowly followed it. Bomber
Command was able to mount three 1,000 bomber raids against Germany. Navigational,
bombing and other aids were developed and refined. Despite
initial setbacks while it met its own needs, the United States was able to
continue to provide Britain and the Soviet Union with war supplies and
material.
The Fiasco of "the Channel Dash"
Between the departure of Peirse (January 8) and the arrival of Harris (Feb. 22), Bomber Command was under the interim command of Air Vice-Marshal Baldwin, commander of 3 Group. It was on Baldwin's "watch" that Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen humiliated the Royal Navy by sailing in daylight through the English Channel from Brest on their way to safer harbours.
Scharnhorst and Gneisenau had arrived in Brest in April, 1941, where Prinz Eugen joined them on June 1 after separating from Bismarck on May 24. Because of the threat to shipping they represented, their presence was of great concern to the Admiralty. Bomber Command had attacked them countless times since their arrival, without success, though 22 Squadron of Coastal Command had disabled Gneisenau in a suicidal torpedo raid on April 6, 1941
When the German ships sailed from Brest just before midnight on February 11, they did so with a modest escort of 13 motor torpedo boats and five destroyers, and with expectation of air cover for most of their journey. They sailed in foul weather ; a sensible precaution ; and they steamed into the English Channel.
The Royal Navy did not see them. Coastal Command did not spot them (reportedly because of problems with their air-to-ship radar). The radar stations along the coast of Britain noted them and ignored them. Not until 11:30 a.m., when the ships were almost entering the Straits of Dover, were they spotted accidentally by a pilot with Fighter Command and reported to the authorities. Two hours later, at 1:35 p.m., the first aircraft of Bomber Command were airborne: by this time Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen were through the Straits of Dover. Between 3:00 p.m. and 6:00 p.m., 242 sorties were flown by Bomber Command against the ships, though many aircraft could not locate them because of the inclement weather. In addition, elements of Coastal and Fighter Command, together with Fleet Air Arm "Swordfish", joined in the attack. So did the Royal Navy, with World War I destroyers and MTBs. No damage was inflicted. Only later did Scharnhorst and Gneisenau strike mines dropped by 5 Group aircraft and incur some damage. By daybreak of 13 February all three ships were safe in German ports.
"The Channel Dash" was a tremendous blow to the prestige of the Royal Navy: the English Channel was, after all, the closest of 'home waters', and the RN clearly did not control it. The 'dash' was also one more all-too-familiar blow to Bomber Command, which demonstrated once again that it had no means of navigating or target-finding in poor weather and no ability to press home a strike against targets that were heavily defended (as these ships undoubtedly were).
It is reasonable to ask how this could have happened. The first answer must be that the Royal Navy was husbanding its resources. It had been late in realizing the vulnerability of its capital ships to air attack and to plunging fire, but by early 1942 it had lost a number of ships ; Hood, Prince of Wales, Repulse and Glorious among them ; to one type of attack or the other. Despite the threat to Britain implicit in Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen, Sir Dudley Pound, First Sea Lord, was unwilling or unable to commit his capital ships to a test of fire. Instead, he chose to leave the work to smaller ships and to the RAF.
The Admiralty knew that the German ships were to be moved from Brest, surmised the move would be in February, and forecast that they would take the direct route through the Channel to Germany. Under the provisions of Operation 'Fuller', set up to counter the expected German move, Bomber Command aircraft were placed on two-hour alert, though on February 10, largely because of the bad weather, this was reduced to 100 aircraft on four-hour alert. Meanwhile, Coastal Command had issued an advisory stating that weather conditions would be favourable for a break-out beginning on February 10. At the same time, it was relatively plain that after February 17 the combination of tides, moon and lengthening hours of daylight would make the break-out from Brest much less attractive to the Germans.
Once they left Brest, there is no conceivable explanation why Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen were not sighted long before they reached Dover. By that time, the three ships had been in the Channel for 12 hours. Granted, the weather was poor: that is why Coastal Command issued its advisory. But it remains a mystery how a combination of radar surveillance, Coastal Command reconnaissance and RN patrols could miss 21 ships doing what was expected of them at a time and place that was quite accurately determined. [1]
Admiralty and Air Ministry were to hurl accusations at each other over the fiasco, though in truth there was enough blame to go around. As a measure of Britain's ability to make war, the 'Channel Dash' placed British forces under a frightening microscope. The Royal Navy had implied by its inactivity that it was afraid to fight, and the RAF had provided a demonstration that it didn't have the tools to do so. After an initial spate of newspaper reports ; entirely negative and occasionally scathing ; severe restrictions were placed on the press in the interests of public morale.
Before the end of February, Bomber Command would finally catch up with Gneisenau at Kiel, inflicting severe damage and effectively knocking her out of the war. This attack killed 116 of her crew; the British had lost 127 aircraft in raids on Brest attacking the German warships in the months before the 'Channel Dash'.
After the disastrous Berlin/Mannheim raids of November 6/7, 1941, Bomber Command had seen its strategic mandate drastically curtailed and its C-in-C sent packing. But with the events of February 12 ; 242 sorties against targets less than 50 miles away, and not one hit ; Bomber Command was at the nadir of its fortunes. At this lowest point, a new commanding officer was to appear. Air Marshal Sir Arthur Harris ; 'Bomber' Harris ; was to be indelibly linked to Bomber Command.
"Bomber" Harris
Sir Arthur Harris was, is and will always be a controversial figure. [2] He stamped Bomber Command with his own vision of war, and his vision has been questioned repeatedly since war's end. He had been in the British forces ; Army, Royal Flying Corps, and RAF ; since the outbreak of the Great War, and served with distinction both in operational commands and as a member of Air Staff. As much as anyone in the RAF, he was an expert in night flying and night-fighting, but when he was asked to accept the position as C-in-C, Bomber Command, he was serving in America.
By all accounts, Harris was neither loquacious nor easy to know. He spoke little, and visited his aircrew seldom. But from the beginning, he was recognized as a man who would take charge. His subordinates admired and supported him, and his crews all but worshipped him. To many ; certainly to his aircrews ; he was known as 'Butch', or 'Butcher', which has been used as proof either that he had a softer, more playful side or that he was recognized as a man whose mission would not be deflected by losses to air crew. Both are probably true to some extent, but the aircrew, showing, perhaps, their macabre sense of black humour, used the nicknames 'Butch' or 'Butcher' without rancour and with real affection.
Harris arrived at Bomber Command at just the right moment. New crew members from the BCATP, finally completing their operational training, were becoming available for duty. New 'heavies' ; particularly the Halifax ; had gone through the worst of their teething problems, and were beginning to appear in large numbers on operational status, and the magnificent Lancaster and Mosquito were making their debuts. More important, many air crew had by now completed the sometimes difficult transition to 'heavies' in the HCUs, and were ready to return to ops. 'Gee', a potential means of finding targets with precision, was only waiting to be installed in a sufficient number of bombers to be tested operationally.
Harris was comfortable with innovation: he had himself developed new devices to make the RAF more efficient. He detested the enemy, but without allowing vengeance to cloud his judgments or decisions. Above all, he was a Douhet man. A practical man, he seldom went further in his statements than to declare that nobody knew if bombing alone could end a war, because it had never been tried before. But in his heart, he believed in strategic bombardment as a war-winning strategy, and was impatient with those who believed only other means could win the war. He would be fortunate to find allies in the men who would lead the USAAF to battle ; Eaker, and Spaatz, and Doolittle, and Arnold ; as the American presence grew in 1942 and 1943. They were all acolytes of Billy Mitchell, the outspoken American supporter of a strategic bomber offensive, [3] and were as fully prepared as Harris to commit their crews to difficult targets, often with severe losses, in the hopes of proving the war-winning capability of strategic bombing. As much as new technology and weapons, the prosecution of the air war took its direction from the men who, in 1942, became commanders of the bombing offensive.
Harris took command just eight days after a new directive, dated February 14, 1942, was issued to Bomber Command. The new directive may have grown from Churchill's recent visit to Washington, where he was meeting with his new ally Roosevelt, or in response to the 'Channel Dash', or from better flying conditions as the weather improved, or from the increasing availability of 'Gee'. It could also have grown from the desire of the Air Ministry to test new bombs and new procedures ; e.g., the new incendiaries. For whatever reasons, a new bomber offensive was under way.
The new directive was not radically different from previous ones, but was needed to countermand the order of mid-November, 1941, which called on Bomber Command to conserve its force. Once again, various precision targets were listed. In addition, Essen, Duisburg, Düsseldorf and Cologne ; in effect, the Ruhr industrial district, or Ruhrgebiet ; were targeted as "general industrial areas" suitable for Bomber Command's attention.
The difference was not in the directive but in the chances of fulfilling it. Harris had tools Peirse could only dream of: new 'heavies'; a more effective arsenal of weapons; a growing pool of trained personnel; and a new target-finding instrument. The Halifax had finally had her tailplane problems fixed and was proving a solid aircraft, the Manchester was already being phased out and replaced by the Lancaster, the Stirling was available, and the Wellingtons, Whitleys and Hampdens were still proving serviceable. While the number of planes at Harris's disposal had not increased, the payload had. The bomb-load options were more sophisticated, ranging from 4 lb. incendiaries to 4,000 lb. 'cookies'. HCUs were coping with converting existing crews to the requirements of the new bombers, and OTUs were taking the newly fledged CATP crews and preparing them for operations. And by the spring of 1942 many of the bombers were equipped with 'Gee'.
'Gee' was not, in truth, a very sophisticated instrument. Nor was it very different from earlier German devices (Knickebein and X-Gerät), though it used cathode ray tubes rather than radio sets. 'Gee' relied on strong pulses sent from three locations in England which allowed suitably equipped planes to determine their location within a narrow margin of error. 'Gee's' effectiveness lessened as a function of distance and the pulses became less precise, and was limited in any case by the horizon. Finally, however, Bomber Command had a target-location device.
There were also new bombing techniques to try out. To counter increasingly active night fighters, for example, a practice known as 'streaming' was introduced. This concentrated the bombers in direction and time to arrive on target in a dense, relatively brief flow, reducing the attack time available to enemy night fighters, seachlights and flak.
Bomber Command returned to the offensive in March, 1942. While the number of targets was greater and more varied than the accompanying map suggests, it was clear that Harris had set his bombers certain goals.
March 3/4 saw the opening of the assault, with an attack on the Renault works at Billancourt. This was the first major night raid on a non-German town, and was undertaken only after much soul-searching by the Air Ministry. It was a striking success, testing many new techniques and devices. The bomber force was streamed; they bombed at relatively low level; they bombed by the light of flares; they hit their target with almost the full weight of available bombers (223 of 235 aircraft found their target). Losses were very light (one Wellington was lost), and damage was evaluated as 'heavy' (though this proved not to be the case: industrial equipment was amazingly resilient to bomb damage). All in all, it was a heartening beginning for Harris, and a tremendous morale booster for his aircrews. [4]
Following Billancourt, certain of the same techniques were tried against Essen in the Ruhr. On three successive nights beginning March 8/9, Bomber Command was largely frustrated: ground haze and cloud obscured the target sufficiently that bombing effectiveness was drastically reduced. This was the first indication that 'Gee' would not be accurate enough for blind-bombing of targets. Of some solace to Bomber Command: flying against Essen, in the heart of the Ruhr, meant that any bombing nearby may do some strategic damage. And 'Gee' was fully capable of placing bombers somewhere within the Ruhrgebiet.
It is interesting to note that the number of aircraft declined with each night, from 211 on March 8/9 to 187 on March 9/10 to 126 on March 10/11. Whatever other reasons may exist for this decline, damage from flak and night fighters would have taken its toll, and the number of available bombers would drop.
After a break on March 11/12, Kiel was bombed by a small group (68 Wellingtons) on March 12/13. The raid was considered a success, but carried a stiff price: seven planes (10.3 per cent) were lost. The following night Cologne was the target of 135 aircraft, and the raid was again considered a success ; the first 'Gee'-led success. After the raid on Cologne, Bomber Command conducted nuisance raids for the following two weeks. They were building up to another test ; this time, of incendiaries.
The target was Lübeck, a picturesque Baltic port relatively close to Kiel. There were some minor legitimate targets in Lübeck: there was a U-boat training school, and the docks unloaded Swedish iron ore. But the aiming point was not the school or the docks: it was the heart of the old town, with its densely packed, half-timbered medieval housing. On March 28/29, 400 tons of bombs were dropped on Lübeck, two-thirds of them incendiaries. The town was gutted more fiercely than any other German town to date, with well over 1,000 dead and injured and 16,000 left homeless. Of the 3,400 buildings damaged or destroyed, over 3,000 were residential, while 250 were industrial. The cost to Bomber Command was 12 aircraft of 234 ; a high but acceptable five per cent, given the raid's success.
That Lübeck had some strategic value is clear. That the town was a 'good test' for the deployment of incendiaries is equally clear. From recorded comments by Goebbels and others, the impact of the raid on the Germans was shattering: until Lübeck, Bomber Command attacks on German cities had been, indeed, nuisance raids of very little import. Bomber Command had been striving for just such a success since the German bombing of Rotterdam almost a year earlier. At long last, a large number of British bombers found the target they had set out to destroy. But given the aiming point (the old town), it is hard to escape the conclusion that Lübeck marked a turning point in Bomber Command's war. This was not a town in the Ruhrgebiet, that vast "industrial area" that was deemed an acceptable target. With the 'Millennium' (thousand-bomber) raids looming in the (not too distant) future, Lübeck marks the beginning of area civilian bombing as part of Bomber Command's policy.
In the two weeks after Lübeck, Harris launched his forces ; usually in small numbers ; against Essen, Hamburg, Duisburg, Dortmund and other cities within his directive. He also committed a small number of Lancasters to a daylight raid, using the argument that the Lancaster's combination of speed and defensive armament would see the aircraft through. [5] The raid was on April 17: of 12 Lancasters sent, only five came home. With reluctance but showing a modicum of sanity, Bomber Command for the most part scrapped future undefended flights of 'heavies' in daylight.
Harris then launched a series of attacks on Rostock. Rostock, like Lübeck, was a relatively small coastal centre. Like Lübeck, it was easy to find; like Lübeck, it was a town with many medieval, half-timbered buildings. The first evening's raid on April 23/24 was not damaging enough: Harris sent further bombers on the following three nights. Over 60 per cent of the city was destroyed: the cost to Bomber Command was eight aircraft, a loss rate of 1.5 per cent. After Rostock, the Germans began using the word Terrorangriff (terror raid) to describe such attacks. The aircrew were terror flieger. It takes very little knowledge of German to appreciate what terror flieger means. [6]
Rostock was home to a Heinkel factory, and could therefore be described as a legitimate target. But it is worth noting that of the 161 aircraft dispatched on April 23/24, only 18 were sent against Heinkel: the rest were directed to bomb the city itself. Heinkel went untouched. On April 24/25, 34 of 125 planes targeted Heinkel, which again escaped unscathed. Not until the third night, when again 18 (of 128) aircraft were given the assignment, was the Heinkel factory hit. Of 414 sorties on these first three nights, only 70 ; 17 per cent ; were attacking a precise military target. Fewer than 25 percent of the 70 actually hit Heinkel. For the fourth and final night (April 26/27), official records are fuzzy: [7] the number of aircraft sent was just over 100, divided roughly equally between town and factory. Both elements of this final raid claimed success.
What did the destruction of Lübeck and Rostock prove? To German high command, it demonstrated that the British were dedicated to destroying their cultural heritage: both towns held a high place in the architectural and cultural history of Germany. Their response was to launch the so-called 'Baedeker Raids' against England. [8] To British high command, the raids on Lübeck and Rostock ; relatively small in scale, against relatively small targets ; were a testing ground. They demonstrated that precision bombing could be accomplished by night (the Heinkel factory), and that incendiaries could indeed generate massive fires (the razing of the hearts of both towns). More, they indicated that Bomber Command was prepared to implement area bombing with only the slightest pretext of strategic importance. Two months after taking command, 'Bomber' Harris was demonstrating that he would attack the enemy in home or factory without hesitation. Or remorse.
'Millennium' and the Thousand-Bomber Raids
If Harris was pleased with the raids on Billancourt, Cologne, Lübeck and Rostock (and he was), and if the raids received official praise (which they did), he was still neither comfortable nor satisfied. He had the beginnings of a tactical modus operandi upon which to build, but he was under pressure from a number of sources for a variety of reasons. The Royal Navy, for example, felt that too much of the war effort was being directed to Bomber Command's needs and not enough to Coastal Command (which it controlled), even though many Coastal Command aircraft were "on loan" from Bomber Command; the Army, meanwhile, was desperate for increased air support in North Africa. Certain members of the War Cabinet too were still uncertain of Bomber Command's capabilities, and remained haunted by the heavy losses in November, 1941 ; less than six months earlier. Harris needed something to still the critics, to alleviate the pressure so that he could get on with the job he had been given. Bomber Command still had to prove itself.
Where the concept of the thousand-bomber raids came from has never been determined. The usual story suggests that the need for a "big statement" by Bomber Command had been on Harris's mind during the March-April offensives. He needed to stage an event that would silence his critics, ensure a growing supply of 'heavies', gain popular support for the bomber offensive and (coincidentally) establish Harris in command. The magic '1,000' was, according to this version, more an expression of fantasy than a statement of intent. [9] Saundby, ever responsive to Harris's ideas, developed a plan by which fantasy could become reality. By mid-May Harris had raised the matter with Portal, who in turn took it to Churchill. By May 20, the plan was approved, with primary target either Hamburg or Cologne.
It is as easy to dismiss the importance of the thousand-bomber raids as it is to overemphasize their impact. The first raid, against Cologne on May 30/31, was the most successful. Over one thousand bombers (1,047) dumped just under 1,500 tons of bombs on the city in a very short space of time, with a loss rate just under four per cent. Cologne suffered heavy damage: hundreds of lives, and thousands of homes, were lost. Harris followed it up with two more 'thousand' raids, against Essen (which was less than successful) and Bremen (better than Essen, but not as successful as the initial raid on Cologne). After that, the thousand-bomber force was broken up.
The benefits of these three raids to Harris's cause, and to the cause of Bomber Command, were significant. In the devastation inflicted on Cologne, Harris had provided a demonstration of what a large force of 'heavies' could do against a significant target. With Portal as an active participant at the policy level, Harris would use Cologne (and Lübeck and Rostock) as 'counters' in an attempt to gain support in three areas: increased support for heavy bomber production; reduced dilution of Bomber Command by siphoning aircraft and air crew to Coastal Command and Army support; and increased autonomy in conducting the air war against Germany. Between them, Harris and Portal would have some success in at least two of the three areas: increased production was agreed to, though not to the levels either man wanted; [10] and the prosecution of the air war would be left largely in Harris's hands, at least for the time being.
If the thousand-bomber raids were of such significance to Harris's cause, why did he discontinue them? The simple answer is that he could not afford them. In May, 1942, Harris only had an average of about 400 serviceable aircraft in his operational squadrons. Finding an additional 600 aircraft meant stripping Bomber Command clean. A look at the make-up of the Cologne raid ; the biggest of the three ; is instructive:
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The first thing to note is that 35 per cent of the aircraft were drawn from OTUs or Flight Training Command. By definition, most of these had no business being on any raid over Germany, let alone against a major target. Even if they had experienced pilots aboard ; and many of the OTU planes were flown by OTU instructors ; the majority of the crews were by definition still in training for operational status. By risking this percentage of trainees, Harris was rolling dice with the future of Bomber Command. The Berlin-Mannheim raids of November had cost 28 of 244 aircraft, a 12.5 per cent loss rate. Had Harris lost 130 aircraft (12.5 per cent of his force) over Cologne, it is certain that he would have been sacked and Bomber Command's future would have been bleak indeed. The gambler in Harris paid off, but he was literally playing the percentages.
A break-down by aircraft types is also interesting. Whitleys and Hampdens make up just ten per cent of the raiding force with 107 aircraft , and 66 of these (61.5%) are OTU aircraft. Wellingtons make up 57.5 per cent of the force and are drawn equally from operational Groups and OTUs, a tribute to the strength and capabilities of Wimpey, which would still the backbone for 6 Group a year later. The Manchester numbers are most disturbing, not just because only 46 could be mustered but because there are no Manchesters on the strength of OTUs. The Manchester was heading for the scrap heap, and not even its similarities to the Lancaster could make it valuable for operational training. The new four-engined 'heavies' ; the Lancasters, Halifaxes and Stirlings ; comprised only 28 per cent of the total group.
It is a commonplace to say that Harris took command when the new 'heavies' were coming on line, and this is true. In cobbling together even the first of the thousand-bomber raids, however, Harris drew on every aircraft he could find. On June 1/2, for a second raid ; this time against Essen ; he could muster only 956 aircraft. Thirty-one aircraft (3.2 %) were lost. When be brought the thousand-bomber concept back to life at the end of June, for the 25/26 June raid on Bremen, he fell short of the 1,000 mark again, with 960 aircraft, with 48 aircraft (5%) lost. On the Bremen raid, aircraft from the OTUs suffered disproportionately: 11.6 per cent of aircraft (23 of 198) were lost. The Essen raid was not at all a success: clouds and/or ground haze obscured the target, and bombing accuracy suffered accordingly. Damage to Essen itself was very light, but bombs fell on 11 other towns and cities in the Ruhrgebiet. For Bremen, results were somewhat better, though still a mere shadow of the Cologne raid of May 30/31.
In many ways, Harris should have quit after the first raid, while he was clearly ahead. The success of Cologne was blunted by the poor results at Essen and the high loss rate to OTUs against Bremen. But the second and third raids were not just showmanship: they were further tests of Bomber Command tactics and equipment. Tactically, the 'streaming' techniques were further tightened, reducing the total time over target substantially. "Gee", too became the subject of further assessment. The raid on Essen demonstrated that "Gee" was unable to provide accurate enough readings to find targets through ground cover such as haze or smoke; Bremen suggested that, against a more easily identified target, "Gee" ; in conjunction with good navigators and bomb aimers ; could find the target. Important lessons had been learned: to continue the thousand-bomber raids beyond Bremen was placing too great a strain on the flow of new crews to operational squadrons. In the next month, no Bomber Command target was attacked by more than 325 aircraft. It was time to evaluate, conserve, and rebuild the force.
Pathfinder Force
Pathfinder Force (PFF) was an obvious growth arising from the growth of the bomber force and the increased use of 'streaming'. Its genesis was in November, 1941 in the Air Ministry, and was raised with 'Bomber' Harris soon after he took command. Harris was prepared to go only so far: on a number of occasions, experienced crews were used to illuminate or mark a target so that other bombers would more easily find their way. [11] It was now proposed that such crews be taken from their squadrons to form a separate operational Group, become expert in the use and operation of the latest navigational aids, and be used in a specialized capacity as target finders.
The idea was opposed by operational leaders at nearly every level of Bomber Command, largely on grounds that the formation of an elite group, plucked from squadrons across the Command, would undermine the morale of regular bomber crews and would limit promotion opportunities for the better crews. Portal supported the concept, however, and forced Harris and the others to accept it. By the middle of August, Pathfinder Force (PFF) was a reality, though not in the form it would ultimately take. Rather than taking the best crews, one squadron from each operational Group was nominated for PFF.
The inducements offered to aircrew for joining PFF were a one-rank, across-the-board promotion for all crews that qualified as Pathfinders, together with a Badge denoting their specialty. On the down-side, the number of ops per tour was increased to 60 (but included those already flown on current tours) ; double the number of ops per tour! With hindsight, it is difficult to understand why any crews accepted transfer to PFF. Many, it seems, accepted because their tours were nearing completion and the dread of crew break-up loomed. Normally, crews were disbanded at the end of a tour, and crew members were sent on leave, transferred to OTUs as instructors, or sent on advanced training courses. They seldom flew together again. The bonding and mutual reliance that brought a crew through 30 ops was often so strong that the prospect of a further 30 ops together was more attractive than the thought of changing ; even as an instructor at an OTU, where crashes were not at all uncommon ; to a new crew of unknown temperament and untried capabilities. By the same token, some crews who were invited to join PFF rejected the opportunity because one crew member was unprepared to make the commitment.
PFF did not become a major force in 1942: its contribution came in the years to follow. But its creation in 1942, even in an imperfect form, was one more step in building Bomber Command into an effective strategic arm. The necessary aircraft ; Lancs, Hallys, Stirlings and Mozzies ; were now available. Lack of personnel was becoming only a minor irritant: CATP crews were beginning to pour into Britain. [12] Streaming techniques had proven effective, and would be refined as the war intensified. Bomb mixes and sequences had been tested, and only needed adjustments based on the target. Target-marking devices had been experimented with, and showed promise. Only 'Gee' had failed to live up to expectations. The final piece of the puzzle ; target finding ; would be addressed by the crews of Pathfinder Force.
The Arrival of the Americans
At the same time PFF was being established, the first units of the American 8th Air Force arrived in Britain. The 15th Bombardment Squadron were the first to arrive, in May, 1942. They represented a bit of a false spring: the U.S. 'heavies' would not appear in any real numbers until the end of July. But aircrew from 15th Bombardment Squadron made their bombing debut not, I think coincidentally on July 4, 1942. Twelve A-20s, all marked with RAF rondels but with six American and six British crews, attacked four airfields in Holland at low level. Three planes were lost all crewed by Americans but the United States had joined the war.
It can be argued that the activities of the USAAF in Europe are not strictly relevant to the story of Bomber Command. Nevertheless, the history of Bomber Command is not complete without a close look at the role of 8th Air Force. There are three reasons for this. First, senior officers of the USAAF and Air Ministry Arnold and Portal, respectively shared an almost common belief in the capacity of a strategic air offensive to shorten or dictate the end of the war. Secondly, the USAAF and Air Ministry disagreed entirely on the means by which this could be accomplished. Finally, despite their differences, the USAAF and Air Ministry were able to develop in the face of much opposition from other service chiefs complementary means by which the German ability to wage war might be destroyed. In operational terms, Harris's Bomber Command would raze German cities by night, while Eaker's 8th Air Force would pinpoint strategic industry by day.
Earlier, the strategic capabilities of any bomber force were linked with the theories of Douhet. Britain had had Douhet supporters, particularly in Sir Hugh Trenchard, the father of the RAF. 'Boom' Trenchard remained a living legend throughout the 30s and early 40s, and exuded tremendous influence on the growth and development of the RAF. [13] A staunch advocate of a separate air arm with offensive capabilities, Trenchard lived long enough to see his RAF become a major player in World War II. The Americans, on the other hand, had Billy Mitchell, the World War I ace whose belief in the role of aviation in any future war, combined with his rather theatrical demonstration of air power against anchored warships and his histrionic disagreement with US military authorities on the issue of military air safety, led via a court martial followed by a resignation to his separation from military service. Mitchell was 'martyred' in the cause of air power, but his cause remained alive in the minds and activities of men like Henry 'Hap' Arnold, Carl 'Tooey' Spaatz, Ira Eaker and others. These acolytes, holding Mitchell's strategic banner aloft, were in positions of influence in the USAAF as it entered the war in Europe.
The two air forces recognized that each had evolved a separate means of prosecuting the air war. While the means were both distinct and different, the objective remained the same: to so overwhelm the enemy by bombing that he was incapable of continuing the war. They also realized that their common enemy was not only Germany, but also the military traditionalists in their own armed forces with whom they had to work. In this sphere, the RAF, with its separate status and organization, was much the more fortunate. For the supporters of the air offensive within the American military, the burden of the air force's continued existence within the Army added both strictures and the added zeal of wresting a new military structure out of the situation. From the time they first met in early 1942, leaders of the RAF and USAAF were more prepared to discuss approaches and techniques with each other than they were with their respective controllers.
In their approaches to air combat, however, the two forces differed dramatically. Bomber Command had learned, through the harsh experience of three years of combat, that daylight bombing was a suicidal endeavour. [14] The USAAF, on the other hand, had determined that only through precision daylight bombing could the enemy be damaged sufficiently to render a war-winning verdict. During the first months of 1942, senior British officials did everything they could to convince senior American officials that night bombing was the most effective approach. The Americans listened politely, smiled, considered the capabilities of their bombers, and made their own decisions. They opted for daylight bombing.
A comparison of USAAF and RAF bombers underscores the different military philosophies they were designed to support. I have retained data for the Wellington, because it would fly until at least the end of 1943, and have retained early 'marks' for Bomber Command's 'heavies' to give an accurate reading of the relative merits of the 'heavies' at the time the Americans entered the war.
Clearly, the British and American bombers were roughly equivalent in size, speed and range. [15] However, they differed in three categories: bomb load; defensive armament; and number of crew. Their bomb loads were relatively small, at roughly half the British aircrafts' lift capacity, but both aircraft carried a stunning arsenal of defensive weapons, and needed extra crew to man them.
While the British and American bombers appear in the table to have similar defensive armament, the American planes were much better protected. This was so not just because of the difference between .303 and .5 calibre guns, though that was a great difference indeed. The American planes had guns that created overlapping fields of fire from the tail, ball (belly or ventral), waist, top, nose (or chin) and (sometimes) dorsal locations.
American bombing policy was predicated on the concept of mutual inter-locking defensive fire. By creating a series of 'boxes' of aircraft, the multiple fields of fire would provide sufficient protection to keep the enemy fighters at bay: 100 B-17s flying in tight formation, for instance, would have a defensive shield of some 1,200 Brownings. The Browning was a very powerful weapon, with a good rate of fire and a relatively long reach, and its projectile (0.5 inch/12.7 mm) could do severe damage to an attacking fighter. The German pilots quickly learned to respect the gun's capabilities. They also learned its limitations, just as they learned the weaknesses of the box formation. Despite the bravery of the American aircrews, the B-17s and B-24s began to fall.
Initially, American aircrews were insufficiently trained, in part because their masters were impatient to commit their forces to the offensive. On the positive side, crew members were familiar with each other, having normally been 'crewed up' for some time. But they received less than adequate gunnery practice and in many instances minimal practical navigational training. They had no experience of the weather conditions they would meet over Europe, where haze, smog, fog and snow would make much of their training experience irrelevant. More seriously, many of the pilots had had almost no experience in formation flying the structural framework upon which American bombing policy was based. These weaknesses were corrected as the months went by. Hard-won knowledge would be passed from experienced crews to novices, and new techniques particularly in navigation would be instituted, but only after a high loss rate in crews and aircraft.
With an alacrity characteristic of the American military, 8th Air Force was activated as early as January, 1942, and, with the help of the British Air Ministry and of Bomber Command, set about building a base support network in England. By the end of July the 97th Bomber Group were in place; within two weeks on August 17, 1942 elements of the group flew against Rouen. [16] This assault is usually taken as the beginning of America's air war in Europe. Two days later, 22 B-17s of the same group flew in support of the Dieppe slaughter, [17] joined by 31st Fighter Group flying RAF Spitfires.
The two men responsible for the deployment of 8th Air Force in Britain Maj. Gen. Carl "Tooey" Spaatz, Head of U.S. Army Forces, British Isles (Air); and Brig. Gen. Ira Eaker, Head, bomber command received full-hearted support from their superior, Lt. Gen. Henry "Hap" Arnold, Chief of Army Air Forces. Arnold, a long-time and vocal supporter of Billy Mitchell, was anxious to demonstrate the efficiency and effectiveness of his forces. Here, finally, was a chance to strike a blow not just for freedom, but also for the concept of an independent air force. Unfortunately, after the initial build-up the flow of aircraft slowed, and not even "Hap" Arnold could do anything about it.
General Arnold was not the only high-ranking American officer wishing to come to grips with the enemy. Even ignoring the war against Japan, the requirements in Europe were straining the military resources of the United States. Admiral King, concerned about the increased depredations caused by the U-boats, [18] wanted aircraft and manufacturing facilities in support of maritime air patrols and convoy air cover. General Marshall wanted an invasion of Europe as early as the summer of 1942 a palpable impossibility.[19] Settling instead for "Torch", the November, 1942 landings in North Africa, created a drain on aircraft destined for Britain. Light bombers were withdrawn from Britain, as 12th Air Force (together with the P-38s of 1st Fighter Group) were transferred in support of "Torch".
The 8th Air Force, like RAF Bomber Command in 1940 and 1941, was finding that the demands of the larger struggle took precedence over the strategic air war in Europe. For the remainder of the year, "The Mighty Eighth" would make the best of the aircraft they had, but for its largest raid of 1942 on October 9 it was able to muster only 110 B-17s and B-24s, and 29 of those turned back for one reason or another. For the moment, the USAAF remained a very junior partner indeed, and would not send aircraft against Germany proper until 1943.
Summer, 1942
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After the third and last 1,000-bomber raid against Bremen on June 25/26, Bomber Command paused to catch its breath, recoup its losses and rebuild its strength. Bremen was attacked three more times in the following week, but the largest force despatched was only 325 bombers. Duisburg received similar treatment, with four raids between July 13/14 and July 25/26, the largest attack being by 313 aircraft. Hamburg was hit only twice, on July 26/27 and July 28/29, but with considerable force ; 403 aircraft on the first night and 256 on the second. Saarbrücken, Düsseldorf and Osnabrück also received attention. Düsseldorf, in the largest attack since the 1,000-bomber raids, was visited on July 31/Aug. 1 by 630 aircraft, a force that once more combined both operational and OTU units.
These were not the only operations Bomber Command carried out, of course. Daylight raids continued to be conducted on a minor scale by Blenheims, Bostons and Wellingtons. The Mosquito, which made its first operational debut over Cologne on June 1, two days after the first of the thousand-bomber raids, was being cautiously allowed to test its mettle in a variety or roles.
Throughout the summer months, however, Harris's planes were relatively inactive. It is interesting to look at elements of the statistical tabulation for May 30/31 to August 17 provided by Martin Middlebrook (Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 296):
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The first thing worth noting is the number of days (25, or 31.5 percent) and nights (19, or 24 percent) when there was no Bomber Command activity at all. Weather, we know, affected bombing. Reading between the lines, it appears that for this summer, cloud and other conditions were a problem: on August 4/5, for example, 38 aircraft dispatched to Essen encountered heavy icing conditions. Throughout the period under examination, there were a number of nights when bomber formations were recalled ; largely, it seems, because of weather conditions. But there were also times when they were recalled for lack of cloud: the aircraft were too exposed in full moonlight. Nevertheless, bombers must fly to wage war ; and for one day in three, and one night in four, no Bomber Command aircraft were in the air.
Secondly, the average number of sorties per night, while accurate, is somewhat skewed by four large raids. The typical number of serviceable aircraft was approximately 400 per day. Operational
records show that during these 79 days/nights, there were only 20 nights on which 200 or more aircraft ; half the available aircraft ; were on operations. In other words, Bomber Command flew at half-strength or better on 25 per cent of the nights available, and did not fly at all on 24 per cent.
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When the Germans got the chance, they did their job: the percentage of aircraft lost to Bomber Command was creeping upward. Earlier, we looked at statistics for July 17 to November 10, 1941. At that time, the loss rate was 3.9 per cent. By the summer of 1942 it had climbed almost half a percentage point to 4.3 per cent. This increase is not explained by the three thousand-bomber raids, which had a loss rate of four per cent. In all likelihood, increased German capabilities, through both more sophisticated night fighter direction and larger, more intensive flak batteries, accounted for the increase. For perhaps the first time in the war, Bomber Command aircrew morale began to flag; Halifax squadrons, for example, were withdrawn from the heaviest raids for a period of a month, not returning to full activity until early September. A 4.0 per cent loss rate was reckoned to be the maximum that was sustainable over any length of time, and Harris must have viewed that 4.3 per cent with alarm. The Air Ministry and the War Cabinet would not tolerate this level of losses for too long. [20]
One other intriguing point in tallying the major raids of Summer 1942: in no instance was a city targeted for a major raid on successive nights. Bremen, for instance, was attacked on May 25/26, May 27/28, May 29/30 and June 2/3. What looks like every night at first glance is really every other night. The same pattern applies to the five raids against Duisburg and the two against Hamburg. In addition, in only two instances ; Duisburg on July 25/26, followed by Hamburg on July 26/27; and Hamburg on July 28/29 followed by Saarbrücken on July 29/30 ; were 200+ raids initiated on successive nights.
The "every second night" approach may have been tactically sound. For example, 48 hours would allow sufficient time for citizens of an attacked city to overcome their fear and return to their homes, for firefighters to bring the worst conflagrations under control, for Techniche Nothilfe (TENO) battalions to begin clearing the streets and tearing down damaged buildings. A second (or subsequent) attack would then have an increased impact on citizens, civil defence workers and the entire support structure, increasing both their feelings of futility and their sense of vulnerability ; a positive outcome in a war against civilians. On a less positive note, the 48-hour break between major raids may signal the need for additional time for ground crew to repair damage suffered by aircraft, or the need to replace or rebuild aircrew. After one 17-night period in which Bomber Command mounted eight major or significant raids, for instance, there followed 18 nights when it mounted only two. In part, this may be accounted for by the withdrawal of the Hallys, but it also suggests that Harris's 'typical' bomber complement of 400 aircraft was a more fragile reality than is generally considered.
Pathfinder-led Raids
August 17 marked ends and beginnings. It was the day Pathfinder Forces were first brought together. It marked the first separate flight of USAAF bombers against occupied Europe. The evening of August 17/18 marked the last operational flight of the Blenheim against Germany, and the first of the PFF-directed raids, a rather successful attack by 139 aircraft against Osnabrück. This was followed the next night by an attack by 118 aircraft on Flensburg. This was a dismal failure, with PFF marking the wrong city.
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After a brief period of readjustment, Bomber Command unleashed a torrent of attacks against Germany. Between August 24/25 and October 15/16, 16 Pathfinder-led raids (14 of them classified as major raids, with 200+ aircraft) struck across northern Germany. The early raids were used to develop target-marking techniques, though the basic pattern was set by a successful attack on Bremen by 251 aircraft on September 4/5. Pathfinder "Illuminators" would light up the target using flares, which would be used by PFF "Visual Markers" to drop coloured marker flares, in turn followed by "Backers-Up" dropping incendiaries. The main bombing stream would look for this pattern, and bomb accordingly.
The raids were not universally successful. Pathfinders too could lose their way and mark the wrong target, or be deceived by decoy fires set by the Germans, or arrive too late to place their markers before the main stream arrived. In addition, inclement weather during the latter half of September reduced PFF effectiveness. Better navigation would get them closer to the target, but good clear weather was still necessary for accurate target-marking. There was a pattern emerging, however: when Pathfinders marked their targets, Bomber Command was much more successful than it had been previously. As they learned their new trade, the aircrew of PFF began to earn their place in the strategic bombing campaign.
The loss rate for these 16 200+ raids was appalling. For the 4,377 sorties flown on these 16 ops, 245 aircraft 5.6 per cent were lost. On three of the 16 raids, loss rates exceeded 10 per cent. The clear weather over target that was still essential for success did not help: clear weather was still night fighter weather. But it was also becoming clear that certain Bomber Command aircraft were not up to the longer, more demanding flights. Wellingtons, which still made up a good proportion of Bomber Command aircraft, were being very hard-hit: on the August 28/29 attack on Nuremberg, 34 per cent of the Wellingtons failed to return. Hampdens, too, had outlived their effective life, and after the Wilhelmshaven attack of September 14/15 they were withdrawn from further front-line operations. Yet somehow Portal and Harris were able to convince Churchill to continue to support Bomber Command. On September 17, the day after the second raid with 10+ per cent losses, the Prime Minister required that aircraft borrowed from Bomber Command be returned, and that Bomber Command be built up from 35 to 50 squadrons.
While the PFF-led raids were under way, two other raids occurred which kept alive the possibility of attacks by day. The first was on August 27/28, when nine Lancasters were sent to attack the German aircraft carrier Graf Zeppelin, then under construction in Gdynia. Nothing came of the raid because Graf Zeppelin was obscured, but seven of the Lancs completed the journey, bombing alternate targets, without loss. The importance of the raid was that the target was fully 950 miles from the Lancasters' bases. The second attack, on October 17, was against Le Creusot, a centre for armament manufacture deep inside France. In this instance, 94 Lancasters flew at tree-top level for a late afternoon attack on the Schneider factory. The attack achieved tactical surprise but was not successful; most of the bombs fell outside the Schneider factory that was the major target. But only one of the 94 Lancasters was lost, though 4 returned with damage caused by birds hitting their aircraft! In truth, the two raids amounted to little: 103 sorties which obtained indifferent results for their effort. Harris and the Germans, without doubt, both recognized what the two raids signified. Bomber Command could strike at any time of the day or night; and targets 1,000 miles from Britain were no longer safe from attack. To achieve that with a loss rate of less than one per cent must have brought a smile to Harris's face.
After October 17, Bomber Command's focus shifted away from northern Europe, in support of campaigns developing in North Africa. Montgomery was to launch the second battle of El Alamein on October 23; and "Torch", the three-pronged invasion of North-west Africa, was to begin on the night of November 7/8. Bomber Command supported these campaigns by attacking Italy's northern industrial area, beginning October 22/23 against Genoa, and concluding seven weeks later, against Turin on December 11/12.
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Of the 13 raids against Italian targets, only three all against Turin were in the major (200+) category. Six were conducted with fewer than 100 aircraft, and four were in the 100-200 range. Total sorties were 1,692, with only 33 losses (2.0 per cent), including one aircraft which crashed on its return to Britain. Nine raids were considered successful, with solid PFF marking and concentrated bombing. One raid missed Genoa entirely, when Pathfinders marked the wrong city, and three raids were unsuccessful when weather or smoke made accurate target-marking impossible. On the final raid, over half of the force of 82 aircraft turned back after encountering heavy icing.
During the same time, there were only three major raids against German targets, against Hamburg (November 9/10), Stuttgart (November 22/23) and Mannheim (December 6/7). A fourth raid, against Duisburg on December 20/21, ended Bomber Command's year. Of the four, only Duisburg was considered a success. The others were plagued by foul weather, and PFF marking suffered accordingly. Greater success was achieved in a daylight raid against Eindhoven on December 6, when 93 light bombers (Venturas, Bostons and Mosquitos) savaged the Phillips factories. The cost to Bomber Command was very high, with losses set at 14 (15 per cent), excluding three aircraft which crashed or force-landed in Britain. [21] The Phillips works were badly damaged, and did not resume full production for six months: the raid was in consequence considered a success.
Show Part 3 Notes
Footnotes
[1]. There are a number of circumstances in the 'Channel Dash' that are prescient of 'Overlord', the invasion of Europe by allied troops on June 6, 1944. The weather played a major role in both: the aggressor accepted marginal weather, while the defender assumed the weather too severe for action. In both cases, military leaders were absent: Baldwin and Saundby were at the Air Ministry on 12 February, and Rommel was visiting his family on June 6, while his subordinates were holding war games away from the front.
[2]. In 1992, the British erected a statue to Harris outside St. Clement Danes church. It was pelted with paint and refuse, and had to be put under 24 hour guard. When a friend and her daughter, on a trip to England, asked a bobby where to find the statue, the answer they received was, "What d¹you want to see that bugger for?"
[3]. It is popularly believed that Mitchell was court-martialled for his advocacy of strategic bombing. This is not so: he was court-martialled for his public comments about the quality of military aircraft and his criticism of the military structure that allowed such planes to exist. His supporters turned his court-martial into a public airing of strategic bombing. Mitchell was found guilty and resigned his commission.
[4]. On this same night, four Lancasters were Œgardening¹ off the German coast. It was the first operational use of the Lancaster in the war.
[5]. The Lancaster was a splendid bombing platform, and to all accounts a joy to fly. But authorities that felt she was sufficiently armed were living in a dream world that lasted to the end of the war. The Lanc, like all other British Bombers, carried .303 calibre machine guns ; in no way a comparable weapon to a 20 mm cannon of the Germans, or even the .5 calibre Brownings of the Americans. Further, the Lanc ; like most British bombers ; had no belly protection, and was blind if approached from below. This prompted German night fighters to approach British bombers from exactly that direction, with appalling losses to Bomber Command. Even the B-17G, with more guns of a much higher calibre, was relatively helpless in the face of fighter attack unless supported by its own fighters.
[6]. Throughout the European war, at least in the West, there was an almost comradely use of nicknames for the enemy. The British called Germans "Jerry" or "Fritz", and Americans called them, for the most part, "Krauts". On the German side, the British were "Tommis" and the Americans "Amis". But with the introduction of indiscriminate area bombing in 1942, British air crew became known as terror flieger, and there was no affection in the term. The same term would be applied American aircrew. Many British and American aircrew parachuted from burning bombers only to be assaulted or butchered by German civilians when they landed. The same thing sometimes happened to German crews landing in Britain during the Battle of Britain and Œthe Blitz¹. The German military provided escorts for downed allied airmen whenever possible, to keep them safe from civilian attack.
[7]. Denis Richards (The Hardest Victory, p. 123) stipulates that a total of 521 sorties were flown, which would mean 107 on the final night. Middlebrook (Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 260) places the number at between 106 and 109.
[8]. Given their age and architecture, and the significance of germanic Œculture¹ in Nazi dogma, Lübeck and Rostock were important German icons. The name of the German reprisal raids comes from the Baedeker guide books which, from the middle of the 19th century, were used as cultural guides for travellers. The Baedeker Raids were in reprisal for Lübeck and Rostock: the cities targeted for German attack were selected, it was said, by consulting the Baedeker guides to England to determine their cultural significance to the British.
[9]. Although there is no proof whatsoever, I wonder if Harris was influenced by the audacious Tokyo raids of Jimmy Doolittle and his B-25s, which took place within two weeks of Harris's decision. There was little benefit from the Doolittle raids, but the Japanese were shocked by this first assault on Nippon, and the American public (and, if truth be told, military) were delighted and heartened by this strike against the enemy. Particularly in war, 'public relations' is a powerful and useful tool. Harris would have appreciated the effect of the Doolittle raid, and would probably have applauded both the outrageous conception and the incredible effects. I expect it touched the show man in Harris, and gave him support as he developed his own audacious scheme.
[10]. Portal had been a supporter of strategic bombing since his own days as C-in-C Bomber Command, and had been the first to advocate the creation of a 4,000-bomber force to carry the air war to Germany. Harris would upstage Portal only in the number of aircraft he dreamt of controlling: he talked about a 4,000-6,000-bomber force. Neither man would find high-level support for such a force.
[11]. In every military endeavour, men appear to come forward who were made for the job. In the air war in World War II, certain bomber crews were soon recognized as more effective in finding and hitting a target when others could not. It was not merely a matter of experience, though that certainly helped. Perhaps the navigator was particularly acute with his dead reckoning, or astute in sensing wind changes, or the pilot had the mental strength to press on through heavy flak, or the bomb-aimer was more able to Œread¹ the heart of the target from the dither of other information. Whatever the reason, these crews were known and marked as successful, and were put to good use as leaders of squadrons or groups.
[12]. By the spring of 1942 the newly-fledged aircrew from overseas were being collected in towns such as Bournemouth, because OTUs did not have the capacity to upgrade them to operational status quickly enough.
[13]. Long after he stepped down, Trenchard would appear from time to time at an operational base and meet with aircrew. His visits were enthusiastically received, for he represented in the flesh the traditions upon which the RAF was founded and flourished.
[14]. The most recent Bomber Command daylight excursion, against Augsburg on 17 April, came at the cost of seven of the 12 Lancasters despatched. They would be used only sparingly in a daylight role in future. Only in 1944, when air superiority had been achieved, would Bomber Command Œheavies¹ be relatively safe on daylight raids.
[15]. The range for the B-17G was 1,100 miles when bombed-up; it increased to 3,000 miles empty. The range for the B-24D also varied depending on bomb load; the 2,500 miles noted in the table is with a reduced payload of 5,000 lbs.
[16]. One of the B-17s "Butcher Shop" was piloted by Paul Tibbetts, who would fly the "Enola Gay" a B-29 Superfortress over Hiroshima on August 6, 1945.
[17]. The attack on Dieppe continues to excite passions 60 years after the event. Described as a test of the Atlantic Wall (i.e., German defences on the coast of Europe), Dieppe was ill-conceived and ill-supported, and the troops, many of them Canadian, were slaughtered or captured before remnants were withdrawn after nine hours on the beach. Nothing was gained by the attack, with the possible exception of warning by example of the dangers of attempting a landing against Hitler in 1942 something that American military leaders had been advocating with some determination.
[18]. U-boats had things much their own way on the eastern seaboard throughout 1942. Many U.S cities were not enforcing blackout precautions, which allowed U-boats to sink tankers silhouetted against a lighted background. In addition, the U-boats mined many harbours from Florida to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, though comparatively little damage was done. Finally, U-boats were dropping German agents on American soil. At least six of eight captured agents were executed by electrocution by the U.S.
[19]. It is hard to believe that General Marshall, on whom Roosevelt relied so heavily, would have thought a 1942 invasion was possible, or could be so misinformed about the German capacity to make war. Either he was very poorly served by his advisors or was outrageously naive in assessing American military capabilities. When U.S. forces first faced Germans in North Africa they were routed: they simply did not have the experience to face what remained to the very end of the war the best fighting troops in existence. Any landing in Europe in 1942 would have been a slaughter, as Dieppe demonstrated.
[20]. When the first "Millennium" raid was proposed, Churchill was reportedly willing to accept losses of up to 100 planes. Such was his belief in the propaganda potential in the raid. I wonder what he may have done had the losses indeed been that high. More importantly, Churchill would have viewed daily attrition rates of even five per cent as catastrophic if there were no propaganda value in them. Both Portal and Harris would be aware of the dangers of creeping casualty increases to the continued existence of Bomber Command as a separate, strategic command.
[21]. Throughout his book, Middlebrook notes aircraft that crashed rather than were lost. He does not include all crashes, however: he does not note the following Wellington. Piloted by Flt./Sgt Swanson of 419 Squadron (based at Mildenhall), this Wellington was part of the 180-bomber raid against Essen on June 5/6. Badly damaged first by flak and then by a night fighter Swanson nursed his aircraft back to England with wounded aboard, crash-landing successfully outside a small village called Finchingfield. Three of the crew, including Swanson, were on their final op. All three were awarded DFMs.
[1]. There are a number of circumstances in the 'Channel Dash' that are prescient of 'Overlord', the invasion of Europe by allied troops on June 6, 1944. The weather played a major role in both: the aggressor accepted marginal weather, while the defender assumed the weather too severe for action. In both cases, military leaders were absent: Baldwin and Saundby were at the Air Ministry on 12 February, and Rommel was visiting his family on June 6, while his subordinates were holding war games away from the front.
[2]. In 1992, the British erected a statue to Harris outside St. Clement Danes church. It was pelted with paint and refuse, and had to be put under 24 hour guard. When a friend and her daughter, on a trip to England, asked a bobby where to find the statue, the answer they received was, "What d¹you want to see that bugger for?"
[3]. It is popularly believed that Mitchell was court-martialled for his advocacy of strategic bombing. This is not so: he was court-martialled for his public comments about the quality of military aircraft and his criticism of the military structure that allowed such planes to exist. His supporters turned his court-martial into a public airing of strategic bombing. Mitchell was found guilty and resigned his commission.
[4]. On this same night, four Lancasters were Œgardening¹ off the German coast. It was the first operational use of the Lancaster in the war.
[5]. The Lancaster was a splendid bombing platform, and to all accounts a joy to fly. But authorities that felt she was sufficiently armed were living in a dream world that lasted to the end of the war. The Lanc, like all other British Bombers, carried .303 calibre machine guns ; in no way a comparable weapon to a 20 mm cannon of the Germans, or even the .5 calibre Brownings of the Americans. Further, the Lanc ; like most British bombers ; had no belly protection, and was blind if approached from below. This prompted German night fighters to approach British bombers from exactly that direction, with appalling losses to Bomber Command. Even the B-17G, with more guns of a much higher calibre, was relatively helpless in the face of fighter attack unless supported by its own fighters.
[6]. Throughout the European war, at least in the West, there was an almost comradely use of nicknames for the enemy. The British called Germans "Jerry" or "Fritz", and Americans called them, for the most part, "Krauts". On the German side, the British were "Tommis" and the Americans "Amis". But with the introduction of indiscriminate area bombing in 1942, British air crew became known as terror flieger, and there was no affection in the term. The same term would be applied American aircrew. Many British and American aircrew parachuted from burning bombers only to be assaulted or butchered by German civilians when they landed. The same thing sometimes happened to German crews landing in Britain during the Battle of Britain and Œthe Blitz¹. The German military provided escorts for downed allied airmen whenever possible, to keep them safe from civilian attack.
[7]. Denis Richards (The Hardest Victory, p. 123) stipulates that a total of 521 sorties were flown, which would mean 107 on the final night. Middlebrook (Bomber Command War Diaries, p. 260) places the number at between 106 and 109.
[8]. Given their age and architecture, and the significance of germanic Œculture¹ in Nazi dogma, Lübeck and Rostock were important German icons. The name of the German reprisal raids comes from the Baedeker guide books which, from the middle of the 19th century, were used as cultural guides for travellers. The Baedeker Raids were in reprisal for Lübeck and Rostock: the cities targeted for German attack were selected, it was said, by consulting the Baedeker guides to England to determine their cultural significance to the British.
[9]. Although there is no proof whatsoever, I wonder if Harris was influenced by the audacious Tokyo raids of Jimmy Doolittle and his B-25s, which took place within two weeks of Harris's decision. There was little benefit from the Doolittle raids, but the Japanese were shocked by this first assault on Nippon, and the American public (and, if truth be told, military) were delighted and heartened by this strike against the enemy. Particularly in war, 'public relations' is a powerful and useful tool. Harris would have appreciated the effect of the Doolittle raid, and would probably have applauded both the outrageous conception and the incredible effects. I expect it touched the show man in Harris, and gave him support as he developed his own audacious scheme.
[10]. Portal had been a supporter of strategic bombing since his own days as C-in-C Bomber Command, and had been the first to advocate the creation of a 4,000-bomber force to carry the air war to Germany. Harris would upstage Portal only in the number of aircraft he dreamt of controlling: he talked about a 4,000-6,000-bomber force. Neither man would find high-level support for such a force.
[11]. In every military endeavour, men appear to come forward who were made for the job. In the air war in World War II, certain bomber crews were soon recognized as more effective in finding and hitting a target when others could not. It was not merely a matter of experience, though that certainly helped. Perhaps the navigator was particularly acute with his dead reckoning, or astute in sensing wind changes, or the pilot had the mental strength to press on through heavy flak, or the bomb-aimer was more able to Œread¹ the heart of the target from the dither of other information. Whatever the reason, these crews were known and marked as successful, and were put to good use as leaders of squadrons or groups.
[12]. By the spring of 1942 the newly-fledged aircrew from overseas were being collected in towns such as Bournemouth, because OTUs did not have the capacity to upgrade them to operational status quickly enough.
[13]. Long after he stepped down, Trenchard would appear from time to time at an operational base and meet with aircrew. His visits were enthusiastically received, for he represented in the flesh the traditions upon which the RAF was founded and flourished.
[14]. The most recent Bomber Command daylight excursion, against Augsburg on 17 April, came at the cost of seven of the 12 Lancasters despatched. They would be used only sparingly in a daylight role in future. Only in 1944, when air superiority had been achieved, would Bomber Command Œheavies¹ be relatively safe on daylight raids.
[15]. The range for the B-17G was 1,100 miles when bombed-up; it increased to 3,000 miles empty. The range for the B-24D also varied depending on bomb load; the 2,500 miles noted in the table is with a reduced payload of 5,000 lbs.
[16]. One of the B-17s "Butcher Shop" was piloted by Paul Tibbetts, who would fly the "Enola Gay" a B-29 Superfortress over Hiroshima on August 6, 1945.
[17]. The attack on Dieppe continues to excite passions 60 years after the event. Described as a test of the Atlantic Wall (i.e., German defences on the coast of Europe), Dieppe was ill-conceived and ill-supported, and the troops, many of them Canadian, were slaughtered or captured before remnants were withdrawn after nine hours on the beach. Nothing was gained by the attack, with the possible exception of warning by example of the dangers of attempting a landing against Hitler in 1942 something that American military leaders had been advocating with some determination.
[18]. U-boats had things much their own way on the eastern seaboard throughout 1942. Many U.S cities were not enforcing blackout precautions, which allowed U-boats to sink tankers silhouetted against a lighted background. In addition, the U-boats mined many harbours from Florida to the Gulf of St. Lawrence, though comparatively little damage was done. Finally, U-boats were dropping German agents on American soil. At least six of eight captured agents were executed by electrocution by the U.S.
[19]. It is hard to believe that General Marshall, on whom Roosevelt relied so heavily, would have thought a 1942 invasion was possible, or could be so misinformed about the German capacity to make war. Either he was very poorly served by his advisors or was outrageously naive in assessing American military capabilities. When U.S. forces first faced Germans in North Africa they were routed: they simply did not have the experience to face what remained to the very end of the war the best fighting troops in existence. Any landing in Europe in 1942 would have been a slaughter, as Dieppe demonstrated.
[20]. When the first "Millennium" raid was proposed, Churchill was reportedly willing to accept losses of up to 100 planes. Such was his belief in the propaganda potential in the raid. I wonder what he may have done had the losses indeed been that high. More importantly, Churchill would have viewed daily attrition rates of even five per cent as catastrophic if there were no propaganda value in them. Both Portal and Harris would be aware of the dangers of creeping casualty increases to the continued existence of Bomber Command as a separate, strategic command.
[21]. Throughout his book, Middlebrook notes aircraft that crashed rather than were lost. He does not include all crashes, however: he does not note the following Wellington. Piloted by Flt./Sgt Swanson of 419 Squadron (based at Mildenhall), this Wellington was part of the 180-bomber raid against Essen on June 5/6. Badly damaged first by flak and then by a night fighter Swanson nursed his aircraft back to England with wounded aboard, crash-landing successfully outside a small village called Finchingfield. Three of the crew, including Swanson, were on their final op. All three were awarded DFMs.
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A Select Bibliography
This bibliography is select in every sense of the word, and will grow as the Bomber Command topics are completed. All are either in my own collection or have been used to refresh my mind as I write: hence the preponderant focus on the British war. As the USAAF becomes involved (really, not until 1943), volumes relating to their efforts will be added to the bibliography as applicable. In no case should this be considered a complete list of volumes on the war in the air.
General
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Bendiner, Elmer, The Fall of Fortresses
, Putnam's (New York, 1980) Deighton, Len, Fighter , Jonathan Cape (London, 1977) Hastings, Max, Bomber Command , Dial Press (New York, 1979) Lewis, Bruce, Aircrew , Cooper (London, 1990) McCaffery, Dan, Battlefields in the Air , Lorimer (Toronto, 1992) Middlebrook, Martin, The Nuremberg Raid , Allen Lane (London, 1973) Middlebrook, Martin and Chris Everitt, Bomber Command War Diaries , Viking (New York, 1985) Richards, Denis, The Hardest Victory , Hodder and Stoughton (London, 1992) Stofer, Eric, Unsafe for Aircrew , HERSS (Victoria, 1989) Taylor, Eric, Operation Mellenium: ‘Bomber' Harris's Raid on Cologne, May 1942, Robert Hale (London, 1987) |
Related or of Interest
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Calder, Nigel,
The People's War: Britain
1939-45
, Jonathan Cape (London, 1969) Deighton, Len, Blitzkrieg: From the Rise of Hitler to the Fall of Dunkirk , Jonathan Cape (London, 1979) Fisher, David, A Race on the Edge of Time , McGraw-Hill (New York, 1988) Goralski, Robert, World War II Almanac: 1931-1945 , Perigree (New York, 1981) Grafton, Pete, You, You and You: The People Out of Step with World War II , Pluto Press (London, 1981) Gunston, Bill, Aircraft of World War 2 , Octopus (London, 1980) Harrisson, Tom, Living Through the Blitz , Penguin (Harmondsworth, 1978) Keegan, John, The Second World War , Viking (New York, 1989) Reynolds, David, Rich Relations , Random House (New York, 1995) Small, Ken, The Forgotten Dead, Bloomsbury (London, 1988) |
Contemporary Writings and Other Matters
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Saville-Sneath, R.A., Aircraft Recognition
, Penguin (Harmondsworth, 1941) Pitkin, Walter, Jr., What's That Plane: How to Identify American and Jap Airplanes , Penguin/Infantry Journal (New York, 1942) Strange, William, Into the Blitz: a British Journey, MacMillan of Canada (Toronto, 1941) |
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© 2025 Brian Grafton
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