蜜芽传媒

A TRUE STORY OF THE FIRST OPERATIONAL
UNDERGROUND SUPPLY TRIP TO NORWAY.

38 GROUP
295 SQUADRON
鈥楢鈥� FLIGHT
RIVEN HALL. ESSEX.

CREW: STIRLING K. WING.
PILOT: LES BELLINGER (ENGLISH)
NAVIGATOR: JOHN (SCOTTIE) MCBAIN (SCOTTISH)
BOMB AIMER: LES GARDNER (ENGLISH)
WIRELESS OPERATOR: NAXIE BURNS (NEW ZEALANDER)
FLIGHT ENGINEER: JOHN PRITCHARD (WELSH)
REAR GUNNER: SANDY EWEN (SCOTTISH)

鈥楢 PIECE OF CAKE鈥�

We were in 鈥楢鈥� flight crew room when we heard the first rumours linking, our next 鈥榙rop鈥� with Norway, instead of France or Holland. Apparently the Norwegian underground movement were quietly marshalling and organizing their forces and a regular supply of guns, ammunition and medical supplies would be essential. The dropping zone would be a frozen lake somewhere in the mountains.

Later after a few beers in the warm mess we savoured the idea of lifting clear of the Essex farmland and heading in clear moonlight to the North Sea; This North Sea, of course, was not a mass of foam and white-capped waves, but a smooth lake with moon rays leading us direct to Norway. Our height was a comfortable 3000 feet before climbing over the snow covered, timber clad mountains to spiral down to our frozen lake and the waiting underground agents.

There would be a quick check of the marking light colours and the flashed coded signal before the steep turning curve round for the final 鈥榙rop鈥� approach. Height 500 feet, speed reduced to 130mph, 12 degrees flap, fine pitch, bomb doors open, red light 鈥榦n鈥�, guidance by the bomb aimer for the green light and a cascade of containers with their brightly coloured parachutes dead on target. Bomb doors closed, maximum climbing power and over the mountains to head back for base before the Germans realised what was going on.

No balloons, no searchlights, no flack, no night fighters, we couldn鈥檛 wait to see our names on the ops. list. That evening in the mess, we decided it was going to be a 鈥榩iece of cake, my boy, a piece of cake.鈥�

The names of crews detailed for the first operational flight to
Norway were pinned to the ops board the day before the briefing.
It read; The following crews will report for briefing at 1000 hours
on the 2nd November, 1944. Group Captain Surplice, Squadron leader Bill Stewart, Flying Officer Les Bellinger.
Group Captain Surpliss was not expected to be operational. He had completed tours of duty several times over on the way to his command. His value to his squadron was in his experience for planning and advising. But as this was the first operational trip to Norway he obviously wanted first hand confirmation that the arrangements made by top command and the underground for the
flight, and the drop, were the best possible and to his own satisfaction. Also, from the early weather forecast Norway was obviously going to be a rough trip, and being a born leader, without doubt this weather information was paramount in his decision to head the list of crews selected. We all had a tremendous liking and respect for Group Captain Surplice and fervently hoped he would be the first to 鈥榙rop鈥�.
Next morning after breakfast, we made our way to 鈥楢鈥� flight, met up with Bill Stewart and his crew, and together headed for the briefing room buffeted by a cold, gusting, rain laced wind. The briefing room, normally crowded, full of cigarette smoke, and noisy with good-tempered banter, was empty and quiet. Tonight, with the Groupie, we were the only crews flying. The Group captain was already there with his crew, to, as usual, finalise last details of the operation and supervise the briefing. Tonight, by his own choice, he would be flying and his crew would be all the heads of sections; Navigation, signals, engines, bombs/containers and guns. It was a crew of high rank, hard earned medals, and experience.

It was 0955 hours on the large round-faced briefing room clock as we saluted Group Captain Surplice and sat down. Facing us alongside the route map was the cloud formation chart and the marked zones of rain, snow, clear ice, and ice crystals that could be expected. Blue marked the cold, danger zones. I gazed at it with fascination, awe, and a strong element of dread, it seemed to be all blue. Hells bells! the whole route seemed to be covered in cumulus nimbus clouds up to 20000 feet and beyond. Heavens it鈥檚 worse than I expected. I looked across at Bill and caught his eye he grimaced and shook his head. Bill wasn鈥檛 happy and neither was I.
鈥淕entlemen,鈥� The groupie was speaking, 鈥測our attention please, the met. Officer would like to say a few words.鈥�

The meteorological officer, a grey haired, middle aged, normally chirpy Scot., wasted no words.
鈥� A very large cold front is approaching, the clouds over base, the cold rain and gusty wind is just the fore runner. In a few hours the main front will be over this area, the rainfall will increase, the wind will be more turbulent and the cloud base will lower. However, as you鈥檙e not taking of f until later it should pass over base and there should be reasonable conditions for take off. Rain and gusty wind of course but not too severe. You should overtake the cold front on the way to Norway and there should be ample time to make the drops and clear the mountains for the return trip to base.

鈥� Hm, looks a bit tight to me for we were going to be the last over the frozen lake.

Each member of the Groupies crew gave their briefing and their advice. These were the most experienced aircrew in the squadron, and each in their turn detailed the possible problems linked to their particular fields with the expected snow, ice, thunderstorms and lighting.

Our take off times had been spaced so that in the event of drops the Norwegians would not be overwhelmed with too many brightly coloured parachutes and their all important canisters and contents. When you remember we could carry a full load of containers, the underground, with luck, would have a lot of equipment to move.

Group Captain Surplice was scheduled to take off at 1900 hours, squadron leader Bill Stewart at 1930 hours, and ourselves at 2000 hours. We had up to ten hours flying ahead and it was important to take care of our normal bodily functions. We had an Elsan anchored way down the fuselage close to the entrance door but dropping your trousers to use the Elsan at 13000 feet, in turbulent winds and below freezing temperatures was a highly dangerous experience. It was rumoured with great relish in the mess, that in really extreme icy conditions there was always the danger of severe frostbite and things dropping off to place your future offspring very much in doubt.
鈥淪cottie, we may be able to keep below the cloud base until we approach Norway, by then the petrol load will be lighter and we should be able to climb fairly quickly through the clouds to clear the mountains and drop down onto the lake.鈥�
鈥淥.K Skip, I鈥檒l make out the flight plan for the first four hours to be at safety height 2,000 feet.鈥�
Les, will you see if there鈥檚 a low level route down a fjord or something we could take for the trip home.鈥�

There was silence for a time and I carefully studied the expected cloud formations and ice conditions. Les broke the silence; 鈥淪orry Skip, no chance of a low level exit, we have to climb the mountains again.鈥�
鈥淕entlemen,鈥� the groupie was speaking, 鈥淚鈥檓 sorry about the met. Charts, it doesn鈥檛 look good, but the met. Officer is confident we shall be ahead of the cold front as we approach Norway, and we should find moonlight and clear skies over the dropping zone. May I remind you that you have been carefully selected for this first trip to Norway, the medical supplies, guns and ammunition are urgently needed. The underground movement is waiting for you, I know if it鈥檚 humanly possible you will be there. Good Luck.鈥� Good Luck, boy oh boy, we鈥檙e going to need all of that and something extra tonight.

After briefing, we returned to the mess for a quick meal and then leaving Scottie to recheck his flight plan, Les, John, Maxie, Sandy and myself were picked up by the crew wagon for a pre flight check in daylight, and a chat with our resourceful ground crew. Even now with the wind gusting and the rain pelting down they were still cheerful. Ground crews never received enough recognition for the dedicated hard work put in, day after day, night after night. Our lives depended on their skills and thoroughness and they never let us down. A great bunch. We took them out for drinks occasionally, but in hindsight not often enough.
鈥淪kip, this is unusual, what are you doing here?鈥� It was Phil, the leader of the ground crew team.
鈥淗ello Phil, it鈥檚 going to be a sticky flight tonight and I wanted to complete a pre-f light check in daylight and have a word with you that all was well, all tanks full, cowlings on tight etcetera.鈥� 鈥淪kip, the loading is finished and I鈥檝e made sure everything else has been double checked.鈥�
鈥淪orry Phil, that鈥檚 good enough for me.鈥� We completed the internal checks, arranged to meet Phil an hour before take off, and left for a quick kip down before tucking into our pre flight meal of bacon, eggs and all the trimmings. We collected our Spam sandwiches, chocolate, chewing gum, flasks of coffee and escape kits (silk map, compass hidden in plastic comb, Horlick tablets, raisins and money) and boarded the crew wagon, our destination, the crew room. Once there we climbed into our full flying gear, picked up various lucky mascots and with everything checked and double checked once again climbed into the strangely empty, silent crew wagon to trace the ever patient 鈥楰鈥� king.

As we moved clear of the hangars the full force of the gusting wind rattled the wagon doors, the rain glinted in the headlights and splattered on the perimeter track. What a night! What was the old saying 鈥極nly birds and fools flew, and birds didn鈥檛 fly at night.鈥�

Please read Norway Supply Chapter 2 to continue the account.

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