Stories

Squadron Leader Jonathan Pote (Rtd) outlines the different roles of a bomber’s aircrew.

Bomber Command was formed in 1936, and initially had both single and twin-engine aircraft, some still biplanes, crewed by two or three, a pilot, an observer who had multiple roles, and a wireless operator/Gunner. They could carry a thousand pounds of bombs a few hundred miles, by day only.

The advent of the Wellington and Whitley increased the crew to five, adding a bomb aimer (or ‘air bomber’) and separating wireless operation from defence of the aircraft.

With the introduction of the four-engine bombers, the Stirling, Halifax, and Lancaster, a second gunner and a flight engineer increased the crew to seven.  As the war progressed there was continuous and often inexplicable change to the life of Bomber Command aircrew, and thus the experiences of individuals were markedly different.

Why was the crew of a heavy bomber, a Stirling, Halifax, or Lancaster, so numerous?  Why put seven of the brightest, best educated, and fittest of the Commonwealth’s youth into extreme danger? Danger due to atrocious weather, navigational error, mechanical failure and, far from least, a hostile nation bent on killing them.  Half of them would indeed be killed, and many of the survivors physically or mentally scarred for life.

They were the nation’s future, and a future squandered so it may seem.  Whilst the casualty figure of roughly 50% overall seems appalling, we should also remember that Bomber Command was at its most populous and at its lowest loss rate during the last few months of the war.  For those starting a tour in 1943, the chances of survival were way below 50% – few survived a tour in the mid-war years.  One in forty is one estimate.

It was a time of great technological advance, with biplanes still in service in 1939 and near-supersonic nuclear bombers on the drawing boards in 1945.  The Avro Vulcan was designed by the same people as the Manchester, progenitor of the Lancaster and saw the end of Bomber Command when it, Coastal Command and Fighter Command merged to form Strike Command in 1969.

The Manchester started service with one piece of electronic equipment, the TR 1154/1155 radio transceiver.  Six years later, over fifty electronic devices were in use, IFF, navigational aids, ground-mapping radars, tail-warning devices, gun-aiming radar, bomb-aiming computers and more.  All required surveillance by the human crew.

These youngsters flew at night when their brains demanded sleep. Their aircraft were thrown about by turbulent weather.  The temperature four miles up was minus twenty to thirty centigrade, with just 3/32” aluminium separating them from the outside.

Crew positions were so cramped that movement was almost impossible. An ungloved finger would stick to the metal structure immovably.

Even without enemy action, there was the danger from several tonnes of explosive beneath them, several thousands of gallons of petrol beside them, the noise of six thousand horsepower just yards away, but above all the treacherous weather.

Crew duties in a Stirling, Halifax or Lancaster

Aircrew recruits (all volunteers) were broadly categorised as ‘PNB’ or ‘other’.  Pilots, Navigators and Bomb Aimers tended to be the better educated and were more likely to be commissioned.  The three specialisations started together and split into streams both by aptitude and the needs of that particular time.  However, many suitable for PNB selection opted for air gunner because of the much shorter training time.  They wanted to ‘get stuck in’ ASAP, “Before it was all over”.

Pilot

The pilot had the most defined task and stuck to it throughout the sortie.  However, to be declared ‘operational’ took two years training, starting with the humble Tiger Moth.  It still takes two years today – there are no short cuts to the necessary skills and experience.  Since the pilot’s hands are on the controls, he knows what is about to happen – usually.

Thus, he has to be (with rare exceptions) the captain or ‘Skipper’, making life defining decisions whilst all the while flying the aircraft.  Controlling a serviceable heavy bomber in good weather is not difficult – mastering a damaged aircraft and/or treacherous weather could tax even the best beyond human capability.

The Corkscrew was a fearsome manoeuvre in which the heavy aircraft is flown slewed sideways, climbing, and descending whilst reversing left to right and vice-versa.  An insane pilot might do the same as a demonstration of crazy flying, with a high risk of catastrophe, but it did make it very hard for a night fighter to bring cannons to bear.

Even if the pilot could regain control afterwards, the aircraft might disintegrate; the structure was not strong enough to survive a corkscrew every time, and sometimes failed even during demonstrations whilst training.

Navigator

Nevertheless, I reserve my greatest respect for navigators, known as Observers early in the war.  The navigator’s task is one of endless mathematics, each calculation based on figures he had previously calculated.  Thus, errors accumulated if not multiplied.

In 1939 there was a pool of well-educated young men familiar with the mathematics needed, teachers, accountants, and others.  The academic training was hard enough for those initial mature recruits, but by 1944 most recruits were straight out of school, straight into complex mathematic tables and calculations whilst in a cramped alien environment of noise, movement, cold, darkness – and of course danger.

Starting before take-off the navigator plots the track required on his map and then factors in forecast wind speed and direction, magnetic variation and deviation, position error and true airspeed, outside air temperatures at cruising altitude and more, producing a series of courses for the pilot to steer, with a calculated time to the next turning point.

As the flight progresses, if the ground is visible then map reading fixes are possible, if the stars are visible then astro-navigation with a sextant – and much mathematical calculation – provides a position, although by the time those calculations are complete the aircraft will have travelled tens of miles further.

Failing visibility above or below, he must just work on ‘Ded’ or deduced reckoning.  All his information, especially the wind speed and direction, might be incorrect, introducing grave errors.  And yet as they return in darkness to their airfield hours later, he must tell the pilot when they are over low ground and it is safe to descend in cloud, far from confident that when the surface becomes visible, they will indeed be where they should be – and with only thirty minutes fuel spare if they are lost, or their home airfield in covered in fog.

As the war progressed, electronic navigation, using ground stations, was a great assistance, but only when near allied territory as use over enemy territory could lead night fighters to them.

That they got to Germany and back to their own airfield I find simply amazing, but if they miscalculated, they and their crew might well die, lost without trace.  Twenty-thousand aircrew are listed on the Runnymede Memorial: They have no known grave.  Many were simply unaware of their actual position when the fuel finally ran out.

Bomb Aimer

The Bomb Aimer, or Air Bomber as they preferred to be known, may seem to only be useful as they near the target, when he takes verbal control of the aircraft for the bombing run. He is clearly vital then as inaccurate bombing means everyone’s effort has been in vain.

However, in 1942, only 30% of bombs fell within five miles of the target, an area of 75 square miles.  At times the Germans were unaware which city was the target, so scattered were the bombs.

The Air Bomber directed the pilot until the bombs were released and the bombing photograph was taken. The photograph was the proof that the operation had been completed, which meant the crew could count it towards their total number of operations carried out.

Pivotal near the target, bomb aimer will also be busy for the whole flight, being partly cross trained as a pilot and navigator.

He has no seat to rest on.  From a position in the nose, he is the best placed to map-read.  As more electronic devices were added, the bomb aimer would operate one or more radars.

Always he would do his best to care for an injured crew member, then taking up that person’s duties if needed.

The air gunners and wireless operators began training together, typically taking just a matter of months. They were trained to take on each other’s duties if needed.

Wireless Operator

The wireless operator might seem to have little to do as he was ordered not to transmit except under specific situations such as the aircraft being tasked as a ‘wind finder.’  His primary role was listening attentively for messages from base giving revised wind speed and direction vital for the navigator, or changes to a secondary target.

Above his head was the Very pistol. This would be loaded with the colours of the day, to be fired immediately if his aircraft was attacked by a ‘friendly’ one.  He would also monitor one of the radars, a screen beside his radio.  As they approached their home base, if there were wounded aboard, he would load a red flare to be fired at the moment of touchdown, requesting a medic to scramble aboard the aircraft as it turned off the runway.

The heating duct from one of the engines exhaled beside the wireless operator.  Kept warmer than his fellow crew, he would wear fewer layers of kit. He would therefore be more vulnerable to hypothermia if they ditched.

In the middle years of the war, the wireless operator was also responsible for the two homing pigeons each bomber then carried, for release with a position report attached should the aircraft ditch at sea.

Prior to a ditching, he would transmit the position calculated by the navigator, and finally screw down his morse key in the hope that friendly coastal stations might be able to triangulate the aircraft’s actual position from the constant tone.

 Air Gunner

At the beginning of the war “Wireless-Air gunners” played a dual role, being responsible for radio operations as well as the operation of the gun turret. Later, with the advent of the four-engined bombers with typically seven crewmembers, this combined role was no longer necessary. Unlike other roles in a bomber, most aircraft, particularly the heavies carried more than one air-gunner – usually a tail-gunner and a mid-upper gunner.

The air-gunners were, surprisingly perhaps, not primarily there to man their guns but to act as lookouts and to call for appropriate evasive action, the dreaded corkscrew, if an enemy fighter was seen. This had to be initiated at exactly the right time – neither too soon nor too late – and in the correct direction – and they sat facing backwards, reversing left and right.

The challenge of aiming accurately with deflection at a rapidly manoeuvring enemy aircraft whilst their own evades, in darkness, is almost impossible.

During an operation, the only sounds the gunner would hear, aside from the constant deafening roar of the engines, would be the hiss of the oxygen and the occasional crackling, distorted voices of other crewmembers in his earphones.

From take-off to landing, at times for as long as ten hours, the air gunner was constantly rotating the turret, scanning the surrounding blackness, quarter by quarter, for the grey shadow that could instantly become an attacking enemy night fighter. Relaxation of his vigilance for even a moment could mean death for them all.

The air gunners wore more, with cumbersome heated suits. Better off in a dingy, they were disadvantaged when evading in enemy territory.

Flight Engineers

Flight Engineers were volunteers from amongst ground crew or recruited direct from civilian life.  All were trained in the UK, in Wales to be precise.  In theory at least, all were British. They learnt the functional details of their aircraft both at RAF St Athan and by visiting the factories actually producing the aircraft.

Whilst they might know the aircraft structure and systems well, they were thrown in at the deep end when it came to flying, sometimes left alone after a single familiarisation flight accompanied by a screened flight engineer, and then flying on operations with just twenty hours in their logbooks.

If engines possibly damaged or tanks holed on a mission, the Flight Engineer was often vital to getting the aircraft home, by skilfully managing the engines and fuel load.

Engine failure on take-off was unlikely to end with crews all surviving, but by managing fuel and ignition cut-off and feathering the propeller, and firing the fire extinguisher, the Engineer could free the pilot to ‘fly the aircraft into the crash’ and maximise their chances of survival.

With gauges positioned from the instrument panel to the main spar, the Engineer had no seat to rest on.

Crewing Up

The aircrews selected themselves once they were close to completing their training.  One of the few consistencies in autobiographies throughout the war is the recollection that “crewing up” seemed chaotic and random, yet it worked well.

The students (identifiable by their newly issued brevets) were typically given two days to mingle freely in the station cinema or a hanger.  Informal conversations developed, perhaps accents proved a link or perhaps two men bonded easily and then looked around for others to complete a crew.  As more crews completed their formation, so the ever-fewer remaining had reducing options.  Any final stragglers would have to accept each other.

That team of seven, sometimes eight with a second pilot getting his baptism of fire or a German-speaking special operator, formed an intense cohesion the rest of us can only speculate about.

Each had to carry out his duties to perfection when required, or all might die.  Ideally, they would complete a tour together, each moulding themselves to the spirit of that crew.  Those forced to change crews due to their own incapacitation or the problems of others were very aware they had lost many benefits and were leading an even more dangerous existence than before.

Ground Crew

Finally, the ground crew. They (and the many other essential to operating airfields) rarely got thanks let alone praise for their vital and skilful maintenance, usually out in the open, often in foul weather.  Some fifteen hundred were in fact killed – it was not a safe option.  Promotions were few and far between, but without them no aircraft would have ever got airborne, and the enemy would have triumphed.

Post-war

Post-war, re-equipped with Canberras and then V-Bombers, the air-gunner disappeared.  There were now two pilots, both fully occupied, and two navigators, the ‘navigator plotter’ still with his maps and calculators, and the ‘navigator radar’ watching the scopes: H2S in a developed form outlasted Bomber Command, last used in the 1982 Falklands campaign but much else was added.

The Air Electronics Operator and co-pilot had absorbed the duties of flight engineer and the air bomber’s varied tasks were spread between the AEO and the navigators.

As with all volunteers within the armed forces during the Second World War, Bomber Command aircrew had little idea of what they were in fact volunteering to do.  However, they felt it their duty to volunteer knowing that the unknown lay in wait for them.  When their motto ‘Strike hard.  Strike sure’ was coined in 1936, they could achieve neither.  With the lives of thousands, and the bravery of even more, they succeeded in achieving both over six tumultuous years.