WF508
Top
Plt Off (later Gp Capt) Doug Cook (co-pilot).
Next row Sgt. Curtis (Left Scanner) Flt. Lt. G.W. O'Donovan (Capt.).
Third row Flt. Lt. (later Gp Capt) Gerry Maloney (Nav/Bomb aimer),
Sgt 'Glen' Glen-Leary (CFC), Sgt. Bob Bevan (Right Scanner)
Kneeling Fg Off John "Kiwi" Marsden (Nav/Radar), Sgt (Later Sqn
Ldr) John King (Flight Engineer) The crew was short one scanner at the
time. Bob Bevan was a National Service recruit, Glen-Leary was a Rhodesian
and John Marsden was from New Zealand. (John King)
RAF
Stories
Operation "Home Run" - Returning WF513 to the USAF
At the beginning of 1954, RAF Bomber Command brought the Canberra into
service and the B29A Washingtons that had plugged the gap between the
Lincoln and the Canberra were returned to the United States under the
code name "Home Run". This is a brief recollection, some forty-seven
and a bit years on, of one such repatriation.
I was a National Service Air Gunner serving in 207 Squadron based at
RAF Marham in Norfolk. National Service AGs were called "Widgets" by
other aircrew trades, I guess that was because we did not have much
to do and there were four of us in each crew. When it was, as it always
seemed to be, cold, the cry would go up "throw another Widget on the
fire!" There being nothing much to shoot at, we were expendable.
The Washington only required one gunner to do anything useful, other
than to keep a look out as, the cockpit was a very long way in front
of the tail and turns would otherwise have been blind. The useful bit
one of us had to do was to start the APU (auxiliary power unit) that
was a power generator run by a ford petrol engine. We called it, among
other things "the put putt" because that was what it sounded like when
starting the beast on the ground when all else was quiet was easy. It
was a different story before landing, with the cacophony of the four
engines. You try guessing when a motor has fired, when stone deaf.
Anyway back to the plot. At 1520 hrs. on l5th February 1954, WF513 roared
down the runway with a crew of eight on board, en route for the wild
west of America where all Washingtons where put out to grass. Oh yes
those of you with an arithmetical bent may have noticed that two pilots,
two navigators, an engineer, a signaler and one gunner add up to seven.
The eighth member was a Wing Commander who was bumming a ride and as
he was in the centre section with me, I had to behave. No crafty drags
thought I, until he offered me one! I forgot to say that we stopped
being "gunners" when we climbed aboard a Washington, as we became CFC
(Central Fire Controller) Left and Right Scanners and Tail (at least
he was) Gunner. My Wingco was Left Scanner, although he spent most of
the time up the sharp end.
We headed north to Prestwick, Scotland that was the jumping off point
for tracking to North America. This bit was uneventful. We had experienced
some minor radio problem and when I went out to 513 later, because I
forgotten something or other, I found that a radio tech was fiddling
about with the equipment. I was up front sitting in the captain's seat
pretending to be a pilot, when the tech, called to me to do a radio
test to the Tower on channel two. The only radio communication that
I had done was on intercom and that was limited to "Putt putt on the
line Sir", "Clear Right Sir" and the occasional acronym for "send help
its terrible" when something un-nerving happened. Anyway, I punched
the channel two button and with great aplomb called "Prestwick Tower,
Prestwick Tower, this is Royal Air Force 513 for radio check, how do
you read?" Back they came in a flash "Royal Air Force 513, reading you
load and clear." The only problem was, as I later found out, I had forgotten
to say that it was a ground test and they are probably still doing a
search for the missing Washington.
On again at 0023 hrs, yes that's 23 past midnight, we always seemed
to start things when everyone else was asleep. This time bound for the
Azores, which is a very long way over water and I hoped I could remember
my dingy drill. Eight hours and ten minutes later we landed at Lages
Field and were lead to a parking bay by a truck with a big sign on the
back which read "SIGA ME" my schoolboy Spanish had come in useful at
last, I knew what it meant. So it seems, did the captain as he followed
it. 1251 the next day we were off again, over more and more ocean, arriving
nine hours twenty minutes later in Bermuda. Thank goodness deep vein
thrombosis hadn't been invented then!
I can't remember when it was that we lost an engine. I think it must
have been before Bermuda. Well not literally lost it, that would have
been careless, but it stopped. This was not unusual for Washingtons
so we didn't take much notice. As we were coming in to land I was doing
my scanning bit when to my amazement I spied a B17 with a dirty great
lifeboat hanging from it's bomb bay creeping up from astern, or in gunner
speak at 6 o'clock. Apparently the skipper had told the tower when on
his approach that it would be a three engine landing, and they had alerted
the Coastguard, in case we ditched. Very comforting. Mind you that was
before I knew about the Bermuda Triangle.
0251 the next day off again over more ocean and the USA. At one point
one of the navigators said "there's the Mississippi" and looking down
from about 20,000 feet, lam sure I saw a paddle boat. I took a photo
but you can't tell what sort of boat it was. At last, after a short
trip of three hours fifty minutes we landed at the USAF base near Dover,
Delaware, We spent a few days there, as we were to take another aircraft
on to Tucson. I think that 513 was too tired to continue. Not us though.
Some of us hitched a ride to Philadelphia and spent our time doing what
we always did, sampling the local ale. We went to a nightclub and heard
a singer nobody had heard of called Dean Martin. When I think that we
were in the place where the USA was born with the liberty bell and the
declaration of independence just around the corner! Oh well I was only
nineteen.
1830 on 24th February we headed for Davis Monthan USAF Base near Tucson,
Arizona, a ten-hour flight in WF559. I can't remember the time differences
but it was still dark when we landed and we taxied for what seemed ages
past parked aircraft. For some reason I had to climb into the bomb bay
while we taxied and as we lurched left and right on the brakes I grazed
my head on something and it started to bleed, as scalps are wont to
do. As soon as we finally halted, I was whisked off to the base hospital
for treatment. Our American friends certainly knew how to do us proud.
In UK, I would have been told to bung a Band Aid on it or was Elastoplast?
Next morning we looked out on a truly amazing scene. For as far as the
eye could see, there were rows of aircraft parked in the desert. It
was impossible to count how may but I have the memory of hundreds of
B29 tail fins glinting in the hot sun. We went down to formally hand
559 back to the USAF. Within a few minutes, the guns and other bits
and pieces had been removed, all of the plexiglass had been cocooned
with what I suppose was fibreglass and she was up on jacks. Years later
I saw a small paragraph in a newspaper that said that the last of the
Arizona B29s from the Arizona desert had been used as missile target.
The trip back was fairly uneventful. We went by bus to Tucson Airport,
seeing real Indians as we went, DC6 to Chicago, missed the following
days flight to New York due to three of us having bad headaches and
sleeping in. Oh yes, there was the Chicago taxi driver who tried to
get us to airport on time. I'd rather forget that. The Chicago to New
York flight that we finally caught was a DC6B "champagne breakfast"
flight. Well Alka Seltser has bubbles too! New York to Hartford, Connecticut,
was by Convair - very up market. The last three flights were on commercial
airlines and so we were spoilt for what was to come.
Hartford was close to Westover USAF Base, the main US base for MATS,
the Military Air Transport Service and I think all US service personnel
would have left the States for Europe from there.
ACM
was not the last word in comfort with freight in the middle of the fuselage,
we sat in what was a sort of canvas bucket bench strung over aluminium
tube that cut into your legs, for hour upon hour, We were supposed to
stop in Newfoundland for a meal and a refuel, but when we climbed aboard,
we could all smell a distinctly kerosene smell. The Loadmaster was a
Master Sergeant and we told him that they must have refueled this piston-engined
aircraft with jet fuel. He refused to believe us, at first but finally
agreed to speak to the captain. Sure enough, it was J4 jet fuel. So
we had a good night's rest while the tanks and lines were purged. At
breakfast, I saw my first RCMP Mountie, complete with red tunic, jodhpurs
and "boy scout hat". On again across the Atlantic to the Azores and
then on to Blighty. Great, we were to land at Burtonwood, only a few
miles from Marham and it was to be a Station Stand Down, two days to
sleep this off! After hours of painful legs and rears, we let down to
the Burtonwood runway, I glimpsed it through snow as I twisted round
to peer out of the port. Suddenly a great roar of engines - the landing
aborted! And guess what, two hours later we landed back at Prestwick,
being the closest clear diversion point.
There was no easy way to get back to Marham and so we headed for our
homes. Across Scotland by train, ensuring that nobody picked our 'chutes
by the silver "D" ring. We looked proper Charlies in RAF Uniform carrying
our kit and a backpack parachute! Change at Edinburgh to catch the London
Express, hours more on the train to arrive in London after midnight.
Across to Charing Cross Station to wait in the cold for the first train
on the Mid Kent Line to Hayes. Three hours later, on the train. My home
station was three from the end of the line and I awoke to have a porter
shaking me and saying "Where was it you wanted to get off son?" I stood
up on the next train back up the line and slept for the entire weekend
to be back at Marham by 2359 hrs on the Monday. Talk about "Home Run"
John Forster
October 2001
Not WF513 but reminiscent
of WF513s
f inal departure! A Washington departs ..
from Marham. (John Forster) ...............
RAF
Coningsby
On the following two pages are sketch maps of RAF Coningsby as it was
in the 1950s. They have been drawn from some aerial photographs supplied
by English Heritage. The photographs are dated 1948 so not everything
will be correct (nor will my copying have done them any favours!). However,
there should not be many differences.
If possible I would like to annotate the maps with where significant
places were, where known they have been done already. If you can remember
any others I would be most interested in hearing. In particular I am
interested in individual aircraft hardstands (so far I have only WF554),
squadron offices, street names etc.
Of note perhaps is the length of Coningsby's runways. The US 20th Air
Force had problems operating their B-29s from the Marianas islands with
8,500 ft runways. The main one (26/08) at Coningsby was only 6,000 ft
, with the others being shorter (4800 and 4200ft) although I guess that
take offs were not done at the gross weights (140,000lbs) that the WWII
flights used. Were maximum weight take offs practiced? If so, does anyone
recall problems with getting airborne! (The Marham squadrons had it
easy in comparison since Marham's main runway was huge at 9,100ft -
see plan in next issue!).
