War Stories: The Bristol Beaufighter -Déjà Vu All Over Again

One of the last surviving Bristol Beaufighters, a TF X model, sits moodily in its display hangar at the Royal Air Force Museum, London

On occasions, the business of blogging comes up with surprises and highly gratifying rewards. Following my post earlier in the year about the WW2 Bristol Beaufighter that crashed at Gusano in the Po Valley, Italy, I received a couple of very interesting emails. The first was from Ewan McArthur at Warbird Restoration Services, near Melbourne, Australia. Ewan was able to provide me with a lot of technical information regarding the parts that were recovered from the crash site and we were able to confirm that aircraft was indeed a Beau. The second was from Mr Eryl Powell, a resident of the greater Birmingham area of the UK. Eryl had stumbled across my articles about this crash and had made a connection: his Dad, Allen, a spry nonagenarian living in Criccieth, North Wales, was the regular pilot for John "Jock" Watson who was lost at Gusano.  Back in the summer of 1944, Allen and Jock had become separated while on different missions. Allen realised that his friend had probably been killed but he didn't know any of the circumstances. He was very excited to learn of my blog post and I was equally enthusiastic to be in contact with a WW2 combat aviator. As fate would have it I was due to make a trip from the Pacific Northwest to the UK and so at the beginning of the month I found myself making my way to the Gwynedd area of Wales to meet with this venerable warrior. Here's the story...

Flight Sergeant Allen Powell, c21 years old in 1944. It seems astonishing that such young men were not only tasked with flying complicated and physically demanding aircraft all around the world but were also given the responsibility of discharging awesome payloads of lethal ordnance. At the same age I think I was just about capable of buying a bus ticket to the Students' Union!

Warrant Officer John "Jock" C. Watson, c1944.  Probably taken at the Alghero airbase, Sardinia. Young, handsome and with an intelligent face: Jock was one of the two aircrew recovered from the Beaufighter that crashed at Gusano on 6th September, 1944

Allen Powell (formerly Flight Sergeant Allen Powell, RAFVR) is a super cool gentleman. He's 93, fit-as-a fiddle and remembers everything. He has a calm, unflappable, demeanour that reminds me of my uncle, also a WW2 aviator: I'm pretty sure these pilots were selected for such qualities. For my visit he pulled out a pile of memorabilia and regaled me with stories for several hours. They were frequently hilarious and self-deprecating.  I can't possible repeat them all here but I'll simply document a little factoid  to underscore what an absolute beast of a war machine the Beaufighter was.  Its armament in terms of guns comprised four Hispano-Suiza 20mm cannon and six Browning .303 machine guns making it the most heavily armed Allied fighter of WW2.  Allen told me that when all these guns were fired together, the recoil slowed the aircraft by 30mph (something the pilot would have to take into an account when making an attack): a great practical example of Isaac Newton's third law of motion!

Allen's pilot's log book (see below) documents multiple enemy engagements: ground attacks, shipping strikes and dogfights, however he talked very little about actual combat and I suspect the memories still haunt him.  When I asked him what thoughts ran through his mind when going on a mission he replied "I just wanted to be at home".  Humility and honesty are certainly characteristics of true greatness!

With regard to the loss of Jock Watson, Allen explained that back in the late summer of 1944,  he and Jock were the reserve flight for a mission. They were in good spirits as they had virtually finished their tour of thirty missions and had not only developed a close working relationship but had become good friends. At that time they were due to be sent back to Britain for some rest and recreation. Specifically they were planning to visit Jock's home in Jordanhill, near Glasgow (and I guess doing some serious partying).  However it was not to be.  Jock was co-opted to fly for another pilot whose own navigator had been taken sick.  Sadly he flew off and was not seen again and reported "missing".  Allen waited around for a couple of days but when Jock didn't return, his Commanding Officer cut  his tour slightly short as there was no chance of finding him a navigator for the one or two missions remaining.  He was then instructed to fly to Cairo and then on to Cape Town (an epic flight in itself) where he was shipped home.

Allen never did find out about Jock's fate although decades later he noted Jock's death when it was published in the Commonwealth War records. He was certainly deeply affected by the loss of his friend.  Fast forwarding a few more decades, the details of the Gusano crash were released and as a result I spent a pleasant Saturday in June investigating the site and wrote up my visit as a quite casual account on this blog. I never expected it to have such positive consequences and I hope I've been able to bring Allen a little closure on this tragic incident.

Instruction manual for the Bristol Beaufighter and issued to  Flight Sergeant Allen Powell back in 1944 

Allen's original escape map. The RAF issued these silk-printed maps to all active aircrew. The could be folded into a small square and placed inside a flying boot. Apart from occupying very little space they were also waterproof

Allen's original pilot's log book. His records are meticulously detailed and in elegant handwriting

Beaufighters on patrol. In this picture, taken from Allen's aircraft, Beaufighters skim across the surface of the Mediterranean at a height of 50'.  Photo taken by Flight Sgt Jock Watson and used with the permission of Allen Powell

Aftermath of a raid: this photo was also taken from the navigator's observation dome on the dorsal surface of the fuselage and is looking towards the rear. On the left side above the horizon is a column of smoke rising from an enemy radar station at Cape Camarat, France, that Allen and Jock have just destroyed. Photo taken by Flight Sgt Jock Watson and used with the permission of Allen Powell

Pilot's log entry dated 18th may 1944. The attack on the radar station at Cape Camarat is described and its destruction documented. In Allen's own words it was "pranged"

Allen has his original RAF Irvin flying jacket.  It still fits him and has a beautiful patination -no fake "distressed" leather here!

The back of the jacket bears 272 squadron's motto "On! On!". Allen, with his usual wry humour, says that the jacket is best viewed upside down...!

Concluding Comments and Appreciation
I'm still amazed that my almost accidental trip to take a look at the Beaufighter crash site and my rather casual posting about it on this blog has been so consequential. Not only have I indulged my boyhood interests in old military warbirds and learned a lot about the technical specifications of Bristol aircraft, but I've met (some face to face, some online) a number of very nice people around the world. Apart from Gusano, Italy, I've also been reacquainted with the stark splendour of North Wales (I haven't even mentioned my side visits to Criccieth Castle or  the delightful Portmeirion Village) and spent almost a day poking around the RAF Museum at Hendon where I took so many photos I exhausted the battery in my camera and my phone. I'd like to think my correspondence with Ewan McArthur re-kindled his own interest in the Beaufighter and caused him and his colleagues to turn over the engines of the one resident in the Australian National Aviation Museum at Moorabbin (and maybe even consider its restoration). I've also had the had the privilege of meeting and talking to a real Beaufighter pilot and hero...(Allen, this has hardly ever happened to me but I actually felt slightly starstruck in your presence).  Finally I've been reminded of the horror and personal tragedy of war.

Again I'd like to express my appreciation to Signor Pierlino Bergonzi, Professor Agostino Alberti and their colleagues of the Aircrash Po and Grupo Ricercatori Aerei Caduti teams and the Muzeo Della Resistenza, Sperongia, for making my original visit possible. My thanks also go to Ewan McArthur for not only contributing his knowledge of the Beaufighter but also giving us the thrill of seeing the engines of one of these great planes being turned over for the first time in decades (even if just briefly and on YouTube).  A big "diolch yn fawr" goes to Eryl Powell for putting me in touch with his Dad, Allen, who has my immense gratitude and respect for his service as well as putting up with my questions for a couple of hours and making available a veritable treasure trove of photos and other memorabilia.  Diolch should also be said Anwyl Cooper-Willis who acted as my taxi driver and scribe on this trip. As per my other posts on this topic I'm dedicating this article to the memories of Flight Sergeant John Horsford, DFM and Warrant Officer John "Jock" Crockatt Watson as well as all the brave airmen, regardless of allegiance or nationality, who gave their lives in the terrible conflict of WW2.

P.S. Some unanswered questions about the Gusano crash remain. I haven't dwelt on them here. Suffice to say I'll write of any updates as they occur.

P.P.S. I would very much like to establish contact with the families of Officers Watson and Horsford: if any reader can help me with this I'd be most grateful (just write me a note in the comments section  -I do read them)

P.P.P.S. January 27th, 2014. This might be worth a separate post and I'll maybe do it sometime in the future (for now I'm trying to preserve the continuity of my ramblings on digital music) but Mr Powell's son, Eryl has scanned all his Dad's RAF memorabilia and put the files on a dedicated, open access site -see here.  It's a glimpse back into the dark days of WW2 and makes fascinating reading.

War Stories: The Sword that Ended World War II

Pilot Officer Eaton, photographed here on the occasion of his "going solo"  in a North American Aviation AT-6 Harvard trainer.  He was 19 at the time

I didn't plan it but I seem to be on a roll with World War II articles of late. As I've mentioned before, blogging is a rather opportunistic process and seems to take on a life of its own as copy material emerges (often out of the woodwork). So I'm going to continue with the WWII theme for awhile as several interesting stories have come to light. 

Back in July, a particularly interesting anecdote was told to me by my Uncle, Doulas Eaton.  It's even more fascinating as it involves Japanese swords  -items in which I've had more than a passing interest.  Now Uncle Doug is a spry 90-year-old: he's fit as a fiddle, potters around in his Sussex garden and goes swimming nearly every day during the summer.  He's almost pathological calm, analytical and deliberate.  When he was younger, he used to transport his family around in/on a BSA motorbike and sidecar -a vehicle that I used to lust after when I was a teenager (heck, I still think motorcycle/sidecar combos are great!). He rode the bike in all weathers and to protect himself against the elements used to wear a sheepskin-lined RAF flying jacket and leggings. Overall a very cool gentleman; and this brings me to the main story...

Uncle Doug's flying gear originated from the days when he was a pilot for the Royal Air Force in the dark days of WWII. After his basic training (carried out in Tulsa, Oklahoma, USA) he was assigned to fly twin engined C-47 transport aircraft. This was not exactly to his liking as he (like most other aspiring pilots) wanted to fly fighters and had done very well in gunnery school.  Having completed his multi-engine training at RAF Windrush he was then assigned to all sorts of dangerous overseas missions. Notably resupplying General Wingate's Chindit special forces in Burma. These operations involved flying over the jungle at 50 feet and rolling the supplies out of the rear of the aircraft (no parachutes). The job was incredibly dangerous as the terrain was badly mapped and aircraft quite often ploughed into uncharted mountains at the end of their supply drop. Others were shot down by small arms fire as well as Japanese fighters. A pretty responsible job for a young man only just in his twenties, to say the least!

A Douglas Aircraft Company C-47 Skytrain or Dakota (RAF designation) of the type flown by my Uncle. Over 10,000 were produced. It proved to be an incredibly versatile and reliable design and many are still in service today

Uncle Doug was fortunate to come through the war unscathed. He continued to fly for the RAF for several years after hostilities ceased but one of his most notable missions came at the very end of WWII. By late April, 1945, Hitler had committed suicide and Germany capitulated. V-E (Victory in Europe) was declared on 8th May. However Japan fought on for several more months  and only ceased fighting  after the nuclear bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in August. Two formal surrender ceremonies were conducted. The first was to General McArthur on the USS Missouri in Tokyo bay on 2nd September, 1945. The second was on 12th September in Singapore to the Supreme Allied Commander of the South East Asia Theatre, Lord Louis Mountbatten. The notice of surrender was received from General Itagaki Seishiro. However Gen. Seishiro was representing the Japanese Supreme Commander of the Japanese Imperial Forces (Southern Region), Field Marshall Count Aisarchi Terauchi.  Field Marshall Terauchi had suffered a stroke and was too ill to attend the proceedings. However he did surrender privately to Mountbatten on 30th September in Saigon. On that occasion, Terauchi, being from a Samurai family, surrendered his ancestral swords which were transported from Japan for the occasion.   

Field Marshall Count Aisarchi Terauchi, Supreme Commander, Japanese Imperial Forces, Southern Region. He suffered a stroke on receiving the news that Burma had fallen

Lord Mountbatten receiving the articles of surrender  from General Seishiro in Singapore, September 12th, 1945. Field Marshall Terauchi surrendered his swords privately to Lord Mountbatten two weeks later in Saigon

This is the sword that was given to George VI by Lord Mountbatten and dates from c1420. Photo from the Royal Collection Trust

Terauchi's two surrendered swords were remarkable. The first was a made by the swordsmith, Yasutsugu, in the Echizen province of northern Japan in the 16th century (Muromachi period).  Mountbatten gave this sword to his brother, Robert, 3rd Marquess of Milford Haven, who later passed it down to his son, Lord Ivar Mountbatten who in turn loaned it to the Royal Marines as a permanent exhibit. The weapon is known as "the Mountbatten Sword" and is displayed at the Commando Training Centre Officers' Mess.

The second sword was crafted by the smith, Osafune Yasamitsu, in Bizen province, c1420 (mid-Kamakura period). It is a masterpiece and has gorgeous fittings known as koshirae. The lacquered scabbard, or saya, is also a work of art. I've seen the weapon described as a short sword or wakizashi although available photographs suggest it is a longer katana. Lord Mountbatten sent this sword to King George VI in London: after its arrival in Britain, King George put it on public display at Windsor Castle where it can be seen to this day. At least two other swords were surrendered although the details are less clear (at least to this writer) and were given to the senior commanders of the other two services.

And so it came about that 22-year-old Flight Sergeant/Acting Warrant Officer Douglas Eaton flew from Singapore to Kuala Lumpur and then on to Rangoon, Burma with with the swords that symbolized  the end of World War II in the hold of his Dakota. (At Rangoon they were transferred to another aircraft and flown to London by a different aircrew.)  A great story indeed and a nice one to have in the family archives. Well done Uncle Doug!

My Uncle's flight as "sword bearer". From Singapore to Rangoon (Burma) via Kuala Lumpur

My Uncle, Douglas Eaton, inspecting the garden back in June this year. He's a remarkable and very cool gentleman

Dad

My Father, the late AW Morrow, and me as an awkward teenager, c1964,  Surrey,  England

Happy 95th Birthday, Dad! 

PS Miss you...

Debts of Honour

Michael Mackintosh Foot, 23 July 1913 – 3 March 2010.

I was very saddened to read of the death of one of my political heroes, Michael Foot, yesterday, at the grand old age of 96. He was an old style, Old Labour, politician of the highest integrity and a terrific intellectual. A was also a fantastic orator with great depth and unashamed campaigner for peace. He was not, unfortunately, a master of image management or snappy soundbites and was thus an easy target for the right wing media. A case in point was his choice of coat for a memorial service at the Cenotaph in 1981. Shame on them for their superficiality. Neither was he a miracle worker and when leader of Britain's polarised and fragmented Labour party in the early 80s, suffered a humiliating defeat. But he should be remembered as an inspirational politician of principal and courage. Requiescat in pace.

14th September 1918

The late Major A.W. Morrow, MA, Royal Army Medical Corps with Mad Pup, c1951

This is an early post as tomorrow I'll be on the road (or in the air) but I couldn't let this milestone go by without comment. September 14 is my late Father's birthday. He would have been 90. It's hard to believe that so many years have gone by without him. He was a gentleman, scholar, athlete, scientist and warrior. He had the patience of Job and the highest standards of integrity. Truly a lovely man and great role model. Happy Birthday, Dad, -I miss you and think of you everyday.

Well George, we finally knocked the bastard off*

Sir Edmund Hillary, 1919-2008

Damn! And there I was writing about him in just my last post. Rest in Peace, Ed, you were also one of my heroes. Wherever you are now, I'm sure you'll find some mountains to climb.

*Sir Edmund's comment to friend George Lowe, on returning from his conquest of Everest in 1953.