First Air Raid of WWII – 37

16:30 – debriefs after the battle

 
By 16.30 hours most of the Spitfires of 602 and 603 Squadrons had returned to their respective airfields to eagerly recount their exploits of that day.

Soon after, the respective squadron intelligence officers began to collate the day’s combat claims. 11 pilots submitted combat reports (Form ‘F’). Initial claims wrongly identify one He111 and one Do215 as being destroyed.  The initial claim increased to three enemy bombers shot down with two others seen going out to sea with one engine out of action. One of these was flown by Leutnant Horst von Riesen. Later, Colonel von Riesen wrote:

 . . . over Rosyth we found Hood safely in dock – where we were not allowed to harm her. Just to the east of the Forth Bridge there were some small warships, however, and I decided to attack one of these. I selected one and carried out a diving attack, but scored only a near miss.

During the dive a heavy flak shell must have exploded quite close to our machine. A loud bang momentarily drowned the sound of our engines, and then a strong wind howled through the cockpit. The right engine cowling had been blown off and the cabin canopy buckled inwards.  Then, as I was climbing away, my radio operator suddenly shouted over the intercom that there were several fighters about two kilometres away, diving on us.

I looked in the direction he was pointing and as soon as I saw them I knew that l would need all the speed I could possibly squeeze out of my Junkers if we were to escape.  I pushed down the nose and, throttles wide open, dived for the sea. But it was no good. The Spitfires, as we soon recognised them to be, had had the advantage of speed and height from the start and they soon caught up with us. As I sped down the Firth of Forth just a few metres above the surface. I could see clearly the splashes from the shells from the shore batteries, as they too joined in the unequal battle.

Now I thought I was finished. Guns were firing at me from all sides, and the Spitfires behind seemed to be taking turns at attacking. But I think my speed gave them all a bit of a surprise – l was doing more than 400 kilometres per hour [250 mph), which must have been somewhat faster than any other bomber they had trained against at low level – and of course I jinked from side to side to make their aim as difficult as possible. At one stage in the pursuit I remember looking down and seeing what looked like rain drops hitting the water. It was all very strange. Then I realised what it was; those splashes marked the impact of bullets being aimed at me from above!

I had only one ally: time. Every minute longer the Junkers kept going meant another seven kilometres further out to sea and further from the Spitfires’ base; and I had far more fuel to play with than they did. Finally, however, the inevitable happened: after a chase of more than twenty minutes there was a sudden ‘phooff’ and my starboard motor suddenly disappeared from view in a cloud of steam. One of the enemy bullets had pierced the radiator, releasing the vital coolant and without it the motor was finished. There was no alternative but to shut it down before it burst into flames.

My speed sagged to 180 kph [112 mph] – almost on the stall when flying asymmetric and we were only a few metres above the waves. Now the Junkers was a lame duck. But when I looked round, expecting to see the Spitfires curving in to finish us off, there was no sign of them. They had turned round and gone home.

Even so, we were in a difficult position. With that airspeed there lay ahead of us a flight of nearly four hours, if we were to get back to Westerland. During our training we had been told that a Ju88 would not maintain height on one engine – and we were only barely doing so. Should we ditch there and then? l thought no; it was getting dark, nobody would pick us up and we would certainly drown or die of exposure.

An alternative was to turn round and go back to Scotland, and crash land there. One of my crew suggested this but one of the others I didn’t know who- shouted over the intercom ‘No, no, never! If we go back there the Spitfires will certainly get us! He was right. The thought of going back into that hornets’ nest horrified us. So we decided to carry on as we were and see what happened. We preferred to risk death coming from drowning or the cold, rather than have to face those Spitfires again.

Gradually, as we burnt our fuel and the aircraft became tighter, I was able to coax the Junkers a little higher. The remaining motor, though pressed to the limit, continued running and finally we did get back to Westerland.

So it was that I survived my first encounter with Spitfires. I would meet them again during the Battle of Britain, over the Mediterranean and during the Battle of Sicily. It was not a pleasant experience.

Officially, although a number of Ju88s were badly damaged on 16 October, only two were confirmed destroyed.  Years after the war it was learnt that a third Ju88 had failed to make it back to Sylt. Having been raked with machine-gun fire and with unknown dead and/or injured on board, Sonny Hansen’s Junkers eventually crashed miles off-course in Holland killing all on board. Hansen had been born at Newstead in the Scottish Borders!

At 16.20 the Observer Corps A2 post at Athelstaneford, near Haddington, sent out an observer to investigate a report that an aircraft was believed to have landed nearby. At 16.40 the A2 post reported that the aircraft was again airborne and seen heading east in the company of a second aircraft.  The perspective was deceptive; the aircraft had not landed but was ‘contour chasing’ – flying at extremely low level – in an attempt to avoid interception by Spitfires of 602 and 603. At 16.55 the same post reported seeing a twin-engine bomber, followed a few moments later by another, fly past at such low level that the aircraft were momentarily hidden behind woodland.  Emerging from the other side they were last seen beading out to sea. This was the last confirmed sighting of the raiders on 16 October 1939.

The pilots of 602 and 603 were exhilarated by the day’s action and hoped a further wave of bombers were on their way, but as the day drew to a close it became obvious the action was over.

Later that evening the adjutant. Moreton Pinfold, accompanied by P/O Benson (not to be confused with P/O Noel Benson, yet to enter the story) went to the Military Hospital to interrogate the three injured German airmen.

The AOC, AVM Richard Saul, flew in to congratulate all concerned. Messages were also received from the Chief of the Air Staff, Sir Cyril Newall and the AOC-in-C Coastal Command, Sir Frederick Bowhill. On the 17th ACM Sir Hugh Dowding, AOC-in-C Fighter Command, telegraphed ‘Well done, first blood to the Auxiliaries’. One of the many congratulatory telegrams received by 603 Squadron reads: ·Nice work boys, Turrnhoose uber alles!’ whilst another was addressed to ‘Hun Crashers, Edinburgh.’

Despite the absence of any air-raid warnings in the city and with a great many civilians therefore still on the streets, it was fortunate that there were no fatalities caused by shrapnel from the antiaircraft guns.