I first realized I had a tenuous relationship with Norfolk when in the mid 1930s I found out that I had very distant relatives, on my Dad’s side, living in the county. As a result, my brother and I cycled from our home in West London to Great Snoring for a week’s holiday. We had some very enjoyable outings that week and found the surrounding countryside and lovely coastline very attractive.
Bob Moorby and his pal Wilf Green
Almost immediately following our holiday came the 1938 Munich crisis and in September 1939 the outbreak of war with Germany. About this time I met up with Joan again and our relationship developed and she became very important to me. I had first met her when we were both at school – me 15, Joan 14.
I was 18 the week after the declaration of war and although I volunteered straight away for the RAF, I was told at the recruiting office that the Service was not accepting any more volunteers for the time being for Pilot or Navigator courses. The Sergeant suggested I came back in 3 months time. So, early in 1940, I was back in his office but the story was still the same. He suggested I could volunteer immediately for air crew duties and re-muster later for a Pilot’s course. The immediate openings were for training as a Wireless Operator/Air Gunner. If I did, my records would still show my desire to become a Pilot and the opportunity to remuster would come.
I agreed to volunteer as a WOP/AG and left to wait for my Call Up. Two months later I was called to RAF Uxbridge where I had a Selection Board and a mental arithmetic test followed by a Medical. All of us who passed that day were sworn in to the Service. Six weeks later, I received my papers and was called up to Blackpool to start my initial training.
However, between my Uxbridge visit and Call Up to Blackpool, we were bombed out of our house in Hammersmith. The bomb landed practically next door and all the top part of our house was blown away. Because we had a paved yard at the back of our house, we had no Anderson shelter but instead we had a reinforced semi-basement room. This saved our lives – two of our neighbours were killed.
Life at Blackpool was pretty hectic – several weeks of square bashing on the front at North Shore mixed with Morse code training (sending and receiving). There was also another Medical – the full air crew Medical this time, when it was decided if you passed fit for Pilot training or not. If you weren’t passed for pilot training you could continue as a WOP/AG. I passed the medical okay and must say I fully enjoyed my stay at Blackpool.
We left Blackpool in January 1941 and posted to No 2 Signals School at Yatesbury, Wiltshire. Here work was on the technical side of the radio training and we experienced our first flights using the wireless sets in the air. We were also issued with full flying gear at Yatesbury. I passed out okay, ready for the next stage. This showed where the hold-ups in training occurred. We were obviously due for our Air Gunners Course next but there was at least a 4/6 months backlog.
We were then dispersed around the country. I was posted to HQ Flying Training Command at Shinfield, near Reading. The Signals Section here was kept very busy and we had several tele-printers and a number of telephone lines including a ‘hot line’. Here is where I encountered the other and darker side of air crew training. There were a number of crashes involving pupil pilots and details came through our section. Quite often, both pupil and instructor were killed or seriously injured as well as the aircraft being written off. Part of my duties were ‘listening out’ during night duty and recording messages received. It helped to keep my Morse Code training on top line because at times some pretty high speed stuff came through.
At last the posting to No 9 Gunnery School at Stormy Down near Bridgend in South Wales. Here the course involved learning the parts of and stripping down and re-assembling the .303 Browning machine gun, aircraft recognition, machine gun firing on the range and best of all, air to air firing. Our flying and air firing was carried out in the Whitley bomber and Boulton Paul Defiant fighter. We all passed the course and received our brevets and Sergeants stripes.
We were then looking forward to postings to various operational training units, but instead found ourselves outward bound to SS Strathaird in convoy to the Middle East via Durban. We changed ships at Durban and sailed on our own in the SS Mauretania to Port Tewfik in Egypt. It was now early 1942 and our destination Egypt was the Middle East Air Crew Pool. We were at Abu Sueir (between Cairo and Ismailia) and it was obviously a pre-war RAF staging post for flights to the Middle East and India. It was well equipped and adjoining us was a Beaufighter Squadron under the command of Wing Commander Stainforth. He was one of the pre-war successful Schneider Trophy Pilots.
We marked time in Egypt, although one or two of our number went off for other duties. During our stay we were, in turn, given ten days leave and my close pal and I hitch-hiked to Palestine and spent time in Tel Aviv in a YMCA hostel. We visited all the well-known religious sites including a lot of time in Jerusalem.
On our return to base, we were on the move again following the good news of General Montgomery’s chasing Rommel across North Africa. I think the powers that be at home realized that as things were getting worse for Bomber Command we would be better employed in the UK. Eventually after a stay at Kasfareet, we embarked on what seemed like a small coaster and proceeded South. We sailed through a monsoon and, for this part of the journey, escorted by the cruiser HMS Devonshire. We called in at Mombasa and spent a few weeks at Gil Gil transit camp.
Eventually we arrive at Cape Town and from there the majority of us embarked on SS Maloga for the trip home - an armed merchant cruiser, most of the passengers being families returning from India. As trained Air Gunners, we were earmarked to man some of the Oerlikon guns during periods of anti-submarine watches.
It was a marvelous sight to see Liverpool again and after a few days leave, some of us found ourselves at an Advanced Flying Unit at Penrhos in North Wales. During this leave, Joan and I decided to get married. We had got engaged on the leave before I sailed for the Middle East. We eventually tied the knot on January 17th 1943 at our local home church.
Things now started to move and I was recalled from leave to O.T.U training at RAF North Luffenham. Here all the training came to fruition and we ‘crewed up’ and started our serious work as an operation crew. Here is where the records of the RAF proved themselves. I was called to the Orderly Room one day and advised that my course for Pilot training had come through. As we were now an operation crew, I declined the opportunity to take up the course. Everything went smoothly at O.T.U. and after 3 months training on Wellingtons, we moved to the Heavy Conversion Unit at Stradishall on the four-engined Stirlings.
Again things went well and at the beginning of June 1943 we were posted as a crew to 214 Squadron at Chedburgh. 214 shared RAF Chedburgh with another Stirling Squadron – No 620.
We had a very unfortunate welcome to 214. As we arrived on the lorry from Stradishall, we had stopped at the Guard Room for clearance. Two Stirlings from 620 Squadron were flying overhead on air test. It was usual on these occasions to take some of the lads from the ground crews if they fancied a flight. The two Stirlings were banking and as they did so, they touched wing tips and immediately went out of control, both plunging to the ground wiping out the two crews and the lads from the ground crews. I believe they recovered 16 bodies from the wreckage. We settled in and the practice on 214 was for the new pilot to do a couple of ‘affiliation’ trips with an experienced operation crew before taking his own crew on ops. Our pilot Henry Hall (real name Harry but we called him Henry after the band leader) did his two trips and then we were available. Again, procedure on 214 was to do 2 mine-laying ops to start your tour and these we did – one to the Frisian Islands (we were hit by flak on this one) and the second was to the South of France at the mouth of the Gironde River. Perfect trip – no problems.
We were now ready for the big time. The next op was Hamburg – the operation when ‘Window’ was used for the first time. A complete success – everything went to plan as far as we were concerned – bombing was good and losses were low. The only down when we returned for de-briefing was the comments of the Squadron Padre – he didn’t appreciate the Squadron’s success and his only thoughts seemed to be for those ‘poor people’ of Hamburg. We next went to Essen in the Ruhr and then back to Hamburg. We had to abort our next trip as the mid-upper turret was out of action due to hydraulic problems and we also had a bad oil leak on one of the engines. The next few ops went OK and then we came to the trip to Nuremberg. This was a long flight – we were routed out over the South Coast and across France, before turning to approach the target from the south-west. As we approached the turning point, the starboard outer engine was overheating and causing concern and had to be feathered. When we tried to restart it the engine went on fire and had to be cut.
Almost immediately, we started to lose power on another engine. This loss of power has an immediate effect on a Stirling – with all engines functioning well it is usually difficult to maintain a height of 13-15,000 feet. We had problems and although we went on to bomb the target, we knew it was going to be hard work to get back home.
We gradually lost height all the way back across France and the crew were standing by to bale out if any further problems arose. As we approached the French coast our height was critical and we made a crew decision to try and make it back across the Channel. With ‘ditching’ imminent, we immediately adopted the Emergency procedure. While the crew took up their ditching positions, I proceeded with my duties – I sent out SOS signals, switched the IFF to ‘distress’ and then clamped the Morse key down so that a constant signal was being sent until we hit the water. This enabled any D/F stations who picked up our distress calls to track our position. The last of my duties was to open the astrodome (one of the escape points) which was just above my wireless position. As I opened it and clamped it back, I thought how noisy the rush of the slip-stream was over the aircraft. The next thing I remember is waking up soaking wet lying in a dinghy spewing up sea water. Apparently, the plane had finally run out of petrol and plunged into the Channel. Two of the crew – Eric Smith our navigator and Ken Buckle, the flight engineer were killed on impact (their bodies were washed ashore later). The rest of the crew got out OK and were in the dinghy. When Henry realised that some of us were still in the aircraft, he got back in the fuselage and found me unconscious and floating face down. He dragged me out and put me in the dinghy with the other lads. Unfortunately both Eric and Ken were dead and as I mentioned above, their bodies were recovered later.
Eventually, the RAF Air/Sea Rescue launch arrived and took us back into Newhaven harbour. From there we were taken by ambulance to the Naval Sick Quarters near Lewes. After a good sleep, Henry and the other lads went back to the Squadron the next day, but I was ‘knocked about’ quite a bit. I had badly gashed legs, severe bruising and a bad gash near my right eye. A Naval Surgeon came in the next day and stitched up my legs and tended to my eye. At one stage I though I might lose the sight in that eye but thankfully everything healed OK.
This was the start of a three week stay at the Sick Quarters. I was however fortunate in one respect – my wife Joan was living with her parents at Brighton at the time and when the Matron of Sick Quarters spoke to her on the phone, she was able to visit me quite regularly. Needless to say, when she first saw me, she didn’t recognise me. I was bandaged up and black and blue all over. When the Doctors considered me fit to move, I was sent to Brighton to get a new uniform and from there I was given three weeks ‘survivor’s‘ leave. (At that time the larger Brighton hotels were being used as Reception Centres for incoming Aussie and New Zealand air crews).
After my leave, I returned to the Squadron at Chedburgh and arrived back latish in the evening. I was told that the Squadron was operating that night – the target was Hanover – and Henry had taken off with a made up crew. When I woke up the following morning, I realised something was wrong because their beds had not been slept in. I learned later that they had been shot down near the target and that only the two gunners were prisoners of war. The rest of the crew died in the crash.
It was about this time news came through that Henry had been awarded the British Empire Medal (Military Division) for saving my life when we ditched. How ironic that he was not to know how his bravery in returning to a sinking aircraft to rescue me had been rewarded. I was now without a crew and still medically unfit to fly.
I was posted off to RAF Woolfax Lodge to get crewed up again, but nothing came of this and I was sent back to 214 as a supernumerary crew member. Once I had been declared fit, I was ready to fly as a replacement for any wireless operator in another crew who may be sick.
My next op in early November 1943 was as a replacement for a pal of mine, Tommy Roberts, who was sent on a week’s compassionate leave for family reasons. I knew his crew well and their pilot (F/O Bray) was very experienced. The target was Mannheim and this was to be another very eventful trip.
After we crossed the enemy coast on course for the target, we were attacked by a JU88 night fighter from almost dead astern. The rear gunner fired long bursts and strikes were seen on the enemy aircraft. F/O Bray was taking violent evasive action while the attack was under way and the rear gunner kept up a running commentary on the tactics of the German plane. Following long bursts of return fire from the rear gunner, the JU88 broke away and was not see again.
As we neared the target and started our bombing run, it was necessary to maintain a steady course with the bomb doors open. Just as we were settling on this ‘run-in’ to the aiming point, we were attacked again – this time by two enemy fighters believed to be FW190s. Both the rear and mid-upper turrets were put out of action and some of the electrics shot away. A total of nearly 3000 rounds of ammunition were fired by the gunners during these three enemy attacks and before his turret was put out of action, the mid-upper gunner scored direct hits on one of the FW 190s. It was going down out of control and was claimed as destroyed – this was later confirmed. Fortunately during the attacks, none of our crew were injured. The bombing attack was made and we were finally on our way back home. We did not return to base but eventually landed at West Malling in Kent. We all went off to make shift beds for the night and woke the next morning to another tale of strife.
When the ground crews at West Malling went out to the aircraft, they discovered that the damage to the electrics had prevented some of the bombs being released. It was apparently a very dodgy procedure – they had to manually release each bomb left in the bomb-bay and very gingerly lower it to the ground. We understood they used a lot of bedding mattresses under the bomb-bay to receive the bombs as they were lowered by hand. West Malling flying control advised us that had they known about this when we called for landing instructions, they would have told us to set course for the North Sea and bale out so the Stirling met her fate in cold water. A Stirling arrived later in the day to pick us up and fly back to Chedburgh. Tommy Roberts came back off compassionate leave relieved his crew was still around.
Four days later I was on ‘battle order’ again. I was to fly with the Squadron C.O (W/Cdr McGlinn). The WingCo only did occasional trips (by orders of Group HQ) and chose the next one because it was to be to Berlin. I was stand-in Wireless Operator as the Squadron Signals Officer was away on a week’s leave. When the Squadron C.O went on an operation, he normally took all the heads of the various Sections to make up his crew. Most of these were experienced and had completed previous tours of operational duty. The trip to Berlin and back was OK, although the Wing CO did get a bit tetchy once or twice. This was to be the last operation for our Squadron on Stirling aircraft. They were considered by Bomber Command to suffer too many heavy losses when the statistics were analysed.
The Squadron was now at a standstill and we shortly had orders to move from Chedburgh to Downham Market. Our stay at Downham Market was to be very short-lived and while there I only did 3 flights mainly of a routine nature.
Our next move was to be quite historical for the Squadron. We were being moved from 3 Group Bomber Command to 100 Group Bomber Command. 100 Group was a special duties Group and we were told we were transferring from the Stirling to the American B17’s. So our next move was from Downham Market to Sculthorpe. Here our conversion to B17’s was to take place. The aircraft arrived with some American crews to give us instruction on the new plane.
About this time, a replacement pilot arrived on the Squadron to do his second tour of operations, having completed his first tour on Stirlings. This was W/O G Mackie, a very brusque Scot but, as I was to discover, a very very good pilot. When ‘Mac’ arrived, he took over a full crew but did very little flying before the move. The Wireless Operator in the crew was an Irishman and one day Mac collared me in the Sergeants Mess and asked me if I would join the crew in place of the Irishman as he was not very satisfied with him. I jumped at the opportunity because I could see my chance to complete my tour of ops.
Meanwhile, the conversion to the B17 continued and flying started early in 1944. I did as many trips as I could with any pilot who wanted a wireless op. This included local flying for familarisation as well as trips to the big US Base at Burtonwood for spares for the B17s. I did another couple of cross country exercises with the Wing Commander when he decided to ‘have a go’. About this time ‘Mac’ obtained his commission and moved from the Sergeants to the Officers Mess.
We were never fully briefed on the conversion programme but we understood the B17 had been chosen because of the shape of the bomb-bay. It was an entirely different layout to the British Bombers. The bomb-bay was to house masses of special equipment – mainly electronic – for jamming purposes. A special operator would join each crew and operate this equipment. Our brief was to fly with the bomber stream and to use the special equipment for picking up German RT broadcasts to their night fighters and to jam these broadcasts. We were told never to ask any questions about the equipment.
Meanwhile, the Squadron had moved from Sculthorpe to Oulton. New B17 aircraft were arriving at Oulton and soon the Squadron was up to strength. I was enjoying my flying with Mac and his crew – his ‘in flight’ control was top line and all the lads knew we had a very good pilot.
Our operations started on 1st May 1944 and Mac completed his second tour and I my first tour in September 1944. Most operations covered a wide area of France, Holland and Germany and I can only recall one trip when the guns were fired in anger by the crew when an unidentified enemy aircraft approached. We were unlucky with a couple of ops when the equipment failed to operate satisfactorily and we had a few ‘flak’ holes after one trip.
The day after the first V2 landed on West London, we were sent on an operation (just our crew) to orbit a point off the Dutch Coast to see if we could pick up any information on our special equipment on the possible launch sites of these weapons. We were escorted and attended by four Spitfires of Fighter Command during this operation. Unfortunately, we were unable to obtain anything useful and returned to base after a five hour operation.
Having completed our joint tours of duty, we were posted away from the Squadron. In the meantime, I had applied for my Commission and progressed from Warrant Officer to Pilot Officer – promotion to Flying Officer came 6 months later. For the remainder of my Service career, I was involved in several courses in Training Command and then for the last 6 months I was posted to Transport Command briefing crews on their trips mainly out to the Middle and Far East to pick up personnel due for release.
I will always have a special feeling for East Anglia, both Suffolk and mainly Norfolk where I spent many months of service life, including that special ‘buzz’ being with an operational Squadron from June 1943 to September 1944. Mac got his DFC after completing his second tour – I don’t know why they took so long!
I was de-mobbed in June 1946 and pursued a career in local government, retiring in June 1979 as Assistant Town Clerk of the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea. Incidentally, the Town Clerk and Chief Executive of the Borough also retired on the same day as me. He was one of ‘the few’ of Fighter Command in the Battle of Britain and awarded the DFC and DFM.
Joan and I had three sons all of whom are now in the 50s. I have six grandchildren, the eldest being 25 years old. Unfortunately, I lost my Joan after nearly 52 years of marriage when she died in 1994 after a short illness.
I will continue to attend 100 Group Reunions & 214 Squadron for as long as I feel able. It is great to meet old colleagues and to visit that particular part of Norfolk which holds so many memories and which, as I mentioned earlier, is very special to me.
Bob Moorby, third left, with members
Robert Moorby
January 2001
An Afterthought for Information:
At the first 100 Group Reunion, I learned through our Hon secretary that parts of the old Stirling from the Nuremberg raid had been dragged from Pevensey Bay and were on display at the Brenzett Aviation Museum. This Museum is near Rye, Sussex, just off the A259. Brenzett is shown on most good road maps and is between Rye and New Romney. With the display is a summary of our operational flight that night, with a copy of the letter I wrote to F/Lt Hopwood, Captain of the Air/Sea Rescue launch which picked us up, thanking him on behalf of the crew.
This article is from the Autumn 2008 issue of Confound and Destroy
