GROUPS AND SINGLE DECORATIONS FOR GALLANTRY From fun to nearly fatal


Enjoying life at his new squadron, Haine was quickly incorporated into 25 Squadron’s aerobatics team. He balanced this with more routine duties:


‘On a glorious June day as I was doing a navigation exercise over Canterbury and diving my Fury down to a few hundred feet over a little village of Sturry, I circled round a large house with extensive gardens. A lawn in front of the house was the centre of my attention for there was the lovely sight of several scantily dressed young ladies doing gymnastic exercises on the green sward. My arrival was by no means accidental, as I had previously found out that this was the home of the Women’s League of Health and Beauty... The short display of aerobatics over Sturry that morning was one of my best, and I returned to Hawkinge with a happy heart..... Life continued happily until 16 October, when I came very close to tragedy. During a high-level cross-country squadron formation flight in Furies to RAF Tangmere, we had been flying westwards at 20,000 feet for some time when my flight commander, who was leading the formation, was astonished to see my aircraft leave the formation and start to do the most alarming antics, rapidly losing height in a series of stalls and spins. Slim called me desperately on the radio, as did other members of the formation, but there was no answer. Getting dangerously near the ground, I slowly became aware that I had passed out, but I finally regained consciousness and was lucky enough to have sufficient height to regain control of my Fury. After a shaky landing at Tangmere, to a group of anxious faces gathered round I was able to explain that apparently my oxygen supply had somehow become disconnected, and I could remember nothing until waking up at 2,000 feet and being amazed to find myself in the air. Safely on the ground, we found that the Fury, on inspection, was a bit ‘stretched’, and the doc said I had burst a lot of blood vessels in my eyes, but I did not seem to have suffered further damage.’ (Ibid)


Haine took part in the last Hendon Air Display in 1937, flying in front of an estimated audience of some 200,000 people. The Squadron converted to Demons and then Gladiators in 1938. Haine moved with the Squadron to Northolt in September of the same year, and converted to Blenheims. He flew his first operational patrol on 4 September 1939, the day after war was declared with Germany. 25 Squadron was to be initially tasked with night patrols:


‘It was only a few days before the reality was brought home to us, when, not long after midnight on 4 September, the as yet unfamiliar sound of the air-raid sirens shattered the night air and one flight of the squadron was scrambled from Northolt to intercept an unidentified aircraft detected by ground radar. Our three aircraft, lead by our flight commander, with Miley and me in close formation, took off and climbed up through thick overcast. Later, we realised that this was the first night defensive patrol of the Second World War.’ (Ibid)


Borkum - the first fighter attack of the war on Germany


Haine was involved in a flying accident on 24 November 1939, when he was forced into a controlled crash-landing due to icing on his Blenheim. Despite this scare he was up in the air again on the 28th to take part in the first fighter attack of the war on Germany:


‘This was to be a raid on the German seaplane base on the Island of Borkum, the most westerly of the Friesian Islands. The raid had two objectives: firstly to destroy or damage as many as possible of the Heinkel floatplanes known to be based there, and secondly as a propaganda exercise to support a claim that our long-range fighters were able to reach and attack the homeland of Germany itself. The floatplanes were known to be laying magnetic mines in our coastal waters, and several ships had been sunk, including a British destroyer. These aircraft had proved to be very difficult to intercept as they came in at radar cover, and the obvious answer was to try and catch them in their lair.... the six aircraft of 25 Squadron were joined by a further six Blenheims from 601 Squadron. We all rendezvoused at Bircham Newton in Norfolk for refuelling and took off in the early afternoon and flew east. All twelve Blenheims kept in fairly close formation as it was a murky winter afternoon, and we flew as before at only a few hundred feet above the dreary grey of the North Sea.... Right on the ETA the Dutch coast emerged out of the mist, and a few minutes later we were able to identify the mole, cranes and gantries of Borkum naval base. The squadron opened out into wide echelon formation and dived down in turn, our four Vickers guns, loaded with De Wilde and incendiary ammunition, spraying the seaplanes, gun posts and installations, while our gunners joined in with their ‘K’ guns as we swept past and climbed away. There was some slight and inaccurate flak coming up at us, but we were too low and fast for it to be accurate and effective. There was no doubt that complete surprise had been achieved, and although it was difficult to assess at the time there must have been quite a lot of damage done. The timing of the attack was impeccable - just enough light to see the objective for our attack but gathering dusk to retreat into and reform for the flight home. We returned westwards low over the sea in rain and gathering darkness. About an hour later all twelve aircraft landed safely at Debden after this most successful operation. A later assessment showed that the damage done at Borkum was considerable. Several seaplanes had been damaged and fires started... all the crews taking part agreed that it was a few glorious minutes of strafing and beating up the Hun.... The Commanding Officer, Hallings Pott of 25 Squadron, was subsequently awarded the D.S.O., and his navigator, a sergeant, the D.F.M., for their leading part in the operation.’ (Ibid)


Haine claimed a He. 59 as probably destroyed on the water during the raid. He moved with the Squadron to North Weald in January 1940, and continued to fly night air-defence patrols. Haine was commissioned Pilot Officer in April 1940, and was posted for operational flying to 600 (City of London) Squadron (Blenheims), Manston, in the same month.


A few victories and a ‘date’ with the Dutch Royal Family


When the Germans invaded Holland, 600 Squadron was tasked with flying patrols over the Low Countries. On 10 May 1940, Haine flew one of six Blenheims of the Squadron designated to take part on a daylight raid to Waalhaven Airfield, Rotterdam:


‘An early German objective was the Waalhaven Airfield at Rotterdam, at which they would need to land their infantry units transported in the Ju 52s.... B Flight, my flight, came on duty, and so it was we who were briefed to carry out this operation. Six Blenheims with their crews, led by the squadron commander, Jimmy Wells, with me flying as his No. 2, took off from Manston and climbed up into that clear blue sky to 2,000 feet and circled waiting for a promised Spitfire escort. Some time passed but the sky remained clear, so the squadron commander decided not to delay our planned time on target and set course for Rotterdam. As we approached the Scheldt we climbed to 3,000 feet and changed to a loose echelon formation. Our specific task was to attack German troop-carrying aircraft and infantry on the Waalhaven airfield or airborne in the circuit, and there was no question of our engaging German fighters until that was accomplished. So all our attention was directed at the airfield, and all the Blenheims dived down and fired on the Ju. 52s and other opportunity targets. Damage was done and fires started, but there was little time to assess the extent before the German fighters were upon us as we climbed away struggling for height to put us on better terms to meet the Messerschmitts.


The CO’s aircraft was the first to go down, crashing in flames into the outskirts of Rotterdam, quickly followed by three more Blenheims flown by the young flying officers also going down in flames. The fifth aircraft, having survived one attack, managed to evade further damage and set course for home. Unfortunately Norman, in the confusion, mistakenly turned south to make his escape instead of north, but soon realised the error and turned around. As he flew back over the same battleground he was amazed to find that there was not an aircraft in sight and the sky all round was clear. He was the only one from the flight to get back home that day, and arrived back at Manston safely but with an explosive incendiary shell lodged in a fuel tank. I, of course, was flying the remaining Blenheim, and like the others I was attacked by either an Me. 109 or an Me. 110 as I climbed away from the attacking Ju. 52s. In the first attack by the fighter a burst of cannon shells shattered the Perspex hood above my head, grazing my helmet and destroying the instrument panel in front of me. I started to weave sharply, but the next attack stopped my port engine and riddled the port wing. With one engine out I could no longer weave, so to try and shake off the attacking fighters I dived down to low level, but the attacks persisted and yet another burst of cannon riddled my starboard wing and shot off a few feet of the starboard propeller, setting up a horrible vibration. My airspeed indicator had been shot away, but I would not have been able to read it with the severe vibration anyway, so I had no idea of my airspeed. My poor old Blenheim was now staggering along on only one engine, with a lot of surface damage hindering the airflow over the wings and tail, so I knew I must be very near to stalling and falling out of the sky.


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