GROUPS AND SINGLE DECORATIONS FOR GALLANTRY
Mosquito night fighter - by Burbridge
Branse was having difficulty seeing the other aircraft against the ground when it went below the horizon, but he was closing in, and just as Bill reported that they were only six hundred feet behind Branse called on him to identify it. They agreed that it was another Ju. 88. It was twisting, climbing and diving in a regular, corkscrew motion. Branse timed his final approach carefully, diving a little as the German levelled off at the top of the next swoop so as to bring the target above his horizon. Quickly he brought the sight on to his favourite aiming point - the port engine - and pressed the button. But instead of a roar from the cannon all he got was the mocking buzz of the camera-gun. By mistake he had pressed the camera-gun button. He adjusted his grip on the stick and pressed the second one. The cannon crashed into life, and the deadly burst struck home. But the target showed no signs of blowing up or even of hesitating in its course. Instead it instantly dived out of sight below the horizon. But it could not escape from the vision of the A.I. set. Although the German pilot had reacted quickly, Bill was even quicker in getting back on to the set. They twisted and dived with the frantic urgency of the hunted and the hunter. But Bill held on, and five minutes later, when they had lost a lot of height and were down to three thousand feet, Branse again had the other aircraft in sight.
Opening fire, Branse scored more hits; but again the Junkers dived away out of sight. This time Bill could not hold it: they were getting close enough to the ground to be handicapped by the ground returns. His voice was becoming hoarse, and despondently he remarked that they could claim that one as nothing more than damaged. But even as he spoke the darkness was broken by the familiar splash of red along the ground as something went in a mile or so ahead of them.
Bill made another brief entry about it in his log. The bombers must have been on their way home by that time, and they should have been thinking about it too. But Branse had other views. There was an established plan used by all night fighters in this situation. They would turn on to the homeward route followed by our bombers and fly back in towards the target area with the object of trying to intercept any head-on contacts, hoping that these would turn out to be German night fighters looking for stragglers from the bomber
force.They continued on the new heading for about two minutes, and then Branse saw, far to the eastward, the twinkling lights of an airfield. Then a cluster of red and white stars dropped from the sky. The German fighters, finding that our bombers were all well on the way back, were themselves returning home to roost. Branse pushed the stick forward, and the Mosquito went howling down towards the distant lights, quickly losing all the height they had only just gained. Bill identified it as the aerodrome at Bonn-Hangelar. And then they saw an aircraft touching down.
Freelancing at a height of less than a thousand feet, even with the best radar set made, was a bit of a gamble, although all our crews were well practised at that game. It was hardly surprising, therefore, that they lost the snap contact and very fleeting visual which caught them on the wrong foot a few minutes later. But again they had a plan to meet the situation, a plan that had been worked out and practised with the other crews of the squadron. Branse turned and began to orbit the airfield in a right-hand circuit, flying into the stream of returning traffic. They kept below a thousand feet, scanning upwards to try and pick out a head-on contact from the swamping ground echoes.
Their chance came a few minutes later. Bill seized on the contact, and Branse hauled the Mosquito around into the left-hand circuit, turning as hard as he dared so close to the ground. Glancing shrewdly at the airfield ahead, he saw that there was certainly no time to lose, and he hesitated about slowing down as they closed in. But a rising note in Bill's voice carried its own warning, and Branse started pulling back the throttles. Immediately afterwards there was an almost panic urgency in Bill's voice, and Branse quickly dropped the wheels and put on a few degrees of flap; and the Mosquito came slithering in with the engine speed warning horn blaring away and the exhaust stubs crackling.
Bill kept his head down on the set, watching the blip as it slid down the trace. He went on reporting its position until finally, at minimum range, it disappeared from view. Then, instinctively, he looked up. Just above the windscreen, and still creeping back towards them, there was the ominous black shape of an Me. 110, the most efficient of the German night fighters, known to the Luftwaffe as the Destroyer. Even without his night binoculars he could see all too clearly the black crosses and the bristling array of radar aerials; and the wheels and the flaps of the 110 were already down in preparation for landing.
The German crew were far too absorbed in their approach towards the runway to notice the menace beneath their tail, and, hanging precariously on its flaps, the Mosquito slowly dropped away behind it. Branse began to breathe more easily. He pulled up behind his target. There was no time to spare for any fancy shooting, and his shells riddled the Messerschmitt. Blazing from end to end, it plunged into the river just short of the aerodrome.
Although time was running short, Branse decided that there was too much trade about to leave unattended, so they flew away from the aerodrome for a while to let the consternation on the ground die down. Then they turned back; and the radar scanner swept once more across the countryside of the approaches to the airfield, picking up and flooding the tube with an assortment of echoes from the ground. Then, as it swept the sky above, yet another contact appeared. On Bill's instructions, Branse opened up and they followed it around the circuit, cutting the corners as they got the measure of things. They closed in quickly, and as they came around on the final leg Branse throttled back and lowered his flaps a little so as to make sure that he would not overshoot. But when he did finally see the other aircraft there was no sign of its wheels being down ready for a landing. Patiently he stalked it while Bill checked its identity. Even at this late hour they could take no chances; there was always the possibility of another Mosquito joining in the same game. The seconds that were ticking by were precious enough; but they had to be sure of what they were attacking. Then Bill confirmed that it was another Ju. 88.
www.dnw.co.uk
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52 |
Page 53 |
Page 54 |
Page 55 |
Page 56 |
Page 57 |
Page 58 |
Page 59 |
Page 60 |
Page 61 |
Page 62 |
Page 63 |
Page 64 |
Page 65 |
Page 66 |
Page 67 |
Page 68 |
Page 69 |
Page 70 |
Page 71 |
Page 72 |
Page 73 |
Page 74 |
Page 75 |
Page 76 |
Page 77 |
Page 78 |
Page 79 |
Page 80 |
Page 81 |
Page 82 |
Page 83 |
Page 84 |
Page 85 |
Page 86 |
Page 87 |
Page 88 |
Page 89 |
Page 90 |
Page 91 |
Page 92 |
Page 93 |
Page 94 |
Page 95 |
Page 96 |
Page 97 |
Page 98 |
Page 99 |
Page 100 |
Page 101 |
Page 102 |
Page 103 |
Page 104 |
Page 105 |
Page 106 |
Page 107 |
Page 108 |
Page 109 |
Page 110 |
Page 111 |
Page 112 |
Page 113 |
Page 114 |
Page 115 |
Page 116 |
Page 117 |
Page 118 |
Page 119 |
Page 120 |
Page 121 |
Page 122 |
Page 123 |
Page 124 |
Page 125 |
Page 126 |
Page 127 |
Page 128 |
Page 129 |
Page 130 |
Page 131 |
Page 132 |
Page 133 |
Page 134 |
Page 135 |
Page 136 |
Page 137 |
Page 138 |
Page 139 |
Page 140 |
Page 141 |
Page 142 |
Page 143 |
Page 144 |
Page 145 |
Page 146 |
Page 147 |
Page 148 |
Page 149 |
Page 150 |
Page 151 |
Page 152 |
Page 153 |
Page 154 |
Page 155 |
Page 156 |
Page 157 |
Page 158 |
Page 159 |
Page 160 |
Page 161 |
Page 162 |
Page 163 |
Page 164 |
Page 165 |
Page 166 |
Page 167 |
Page 168 |
Page 169 |
Page 170 |
Page 171 |
Page 172 |
Page 173 |
Page 174 |
Page 175 |
Page 176 |
Page 177 |
Page 178 |
Page 179 |
Page 180 |
Page 181 |
Page 182 |
Page 183 |
Page 184 |
Page 185 |
Page 186 |
Page 187 |
Page 188 |
Page 189 |
Page 190 |
Page 191 |
Page 192 |
Page 193 |
Page 194 |
Page 195 |
Page 196 |
Page 197 |
Page 198 |
Page 199 |
Page 200 |
Page 201 |
Page 202 |
Page 203 |
Page 204 |
Page 205 |
Page 206 |
Page 207 |
Page 208 |
Page 209 |
Page 210 |
Page 211 |
Page 212 |
Page 213 |
Page 214 |
Page 215 |
Page 216 |
Page 217 |
Page 218 |
Page 219 |
Page 220 |
Page 221 |
Page 222 |
Page 223 |
Page 224 |
Page 225 |
Page 226 |
Page 227 |
Page 228 |
Page 229 |
Page 230 |
Page 231 |
Page 232 |
Page 233 |
Page 234 |
Page 235 |
Page 236 |
Page 237 |
Page 238 |
Page 239 |
Page 240 |
Page 241 |
Page 242 |
Page 243 |
Page 244 |
Page 245 |
Page 246 |
Page 247 |
Page 248 |
Page 249 |
Page 250 |
Page 251 |
Page 252 |
Page 253 |
Page 254 |
Page 255 |
Page 256 |
Page 257 |
Page 258 |
Page 259 |
Page 260 |
Page 261 |
Page 262 |
Page 263 |
Page 264 |
Page 265 |
Page 266 |
Page 267 |
Page 268 |
Page 269 |
Page 270 |
Page 271 |
Page 272 |
Page 273 |
Page 274 |
Page 275 |
Page 276 |
Page 277 |
Page 278 |
Page 279 |
Page 280 |
Page 281 |
Page 282 |
Page 283 |
Page 284 |
Page 285 |
Page 286 |
Page 287 |
Page 288 |
Page 289 |
Page 290 |
Page 291 |
Page 292 |
Page 293 |
Page 294 |
Page 295 |
Page 296 |
Page 297 |
Page 298 |
Page 299 |
Page 300 |
Page 301 |
Page 302