In Memoriam Flt/Lt Michael Crosbie aka ‘Bing’ 186368 - 214 Squadron
F/Lt Michael Crosbie w crew, Billington, Healy, Odgers far right, 1944
My Dad and I were very close, but in the 23 years since his death at the relatively early age of 71, I feel a major part of his life was blocked out. Like a great many people, he probably suffered nightmares and flashbacks, but never said. Perhaps he didn’t want to show vulnerability, I will never know. Here is his story of time spent at Blickling and RAF Oulton.
Dad had already been in Service two years by the time he arrived at RAF Oulton. He trained in Canada and gained his wings in July 1943. On his return to the UK, he did Conversion Courses on Wellingtons and Stirlings. But then in September 1944, Sergeant Michael Crosbie 186368 was posted to 1699, a Flying Fortress B-17 Conversion Unit. The first task on arrival was to ‘Crew Up’. Dad’s original crew was as follows:
• Navigator - Don Hall
• Bomb Aimer - Jack Karter
• Wireless Op - Eric Brazier
• Flight Engineer - Les Billington
• Special Wireless Op - Lindsay Odgers
• Mid Upper Gunner - Ted Edwards
• Tail Gunner - Jimmy Healy
• Waist Gunner - Alastair McDermid
• Waist Gunner - Terry Sullivan
On 27 September, they first flew together, and over the next nine days, flew for an average of two hours a day. Then on 6 October, Dad’s name appeared on the Battle Order for the raid over Dortmund. He was 2nd Pilot to Flt Lt Scandleton. Over the next few weeks, he flew in ‘WINDOW’ raids over various locations.
On 18 October, Dad was granted his Commission. With his Commission, he gained more pay and better living conditions. We believe it was then he moved into the main Blickling Hall. During his first ten missions, Dad once returned early. This was on 6 December due to ‘acute icing’. Then a week before Christmas, Dad had his ‘finest hour’. The night of 18 December, the Squadron were Briefed to support a bomber attack to Gdynia, a port in North Poland. While over the target, he lost one engine, then shortly after, lost power in another. He was forced to ‘feather’ both to descend to 2,000ft all the way home across the North Sea, landing at Foulsham with the aid of FIDO. This was done by a chap who was still only 21!!!
Even at Christmas he was back on Operations to Antwerp, where the flack was ‘unfriendly’. The New Year brought no respite. On 2 January 1945 over Nuremburg, they returned on three engines because of damage caused by anti-aircraft fire.
On 3 February 1945, Dad and his crew were told to fly to Jarnvincourt. When they arrived, Dad slipped on his way out of the aircraft, discovering soon after he had broken his ankle. On his return to Blickling, he was laid up in Sick Bay for a few weeks.
Meanwhile, on Saturday 3 March, most of Dad’s crew were detailed to fly with another pilot and friend of Dad’s – Bennett. Much has been written about the events which happened that night. When hearing about it, I’m not ashamed to say it made me cry. Dad lost 3 members of his crew:
• Les Billington
• Lindsay Odgers
• Jimmy Healy
What made this more awful for Dad was that he witnessed the incident. I am convinced the memory remained with him for the rest of his life. These men had to be replaced, along with Eric Brazier who had completed his 2nd tour of Operations. The replacements were:
• B. Collings
• L. Mercer
• S. Nessner
• D. Antbuy
I have often wondered whether Dad ever thought about Les, Jimmy or Lindsay? I think he did, but like many, just never let on. One fact I have discovered is that 214 Squadron lost six more complete crews between March and VE Day. That amounts to 60 young men in their prime. Such a waste!
Dad and his crew flew in five more raids after the crash, the most notable being 16 April. While over Schwan Dorf, he was again hit by flak. He lost the power of two engines and crashed on the A78. Then, after a trip to Flensburg on 2 May, and 281/2 raids in total, Dad’s war was done. No longer would he take off and fly into the carnage of the Reich.
I have been told Dad was a popular figure among his comrades. He took them out drinking or to the Pictures. He listened to their problems and advised them. He was that sort of chap. In closing, I would like to add a personal note about Dad. He cared about people and protected the ones he loved. On our first trip to Blickling, I went on my own to the churchyard to pay my respects to Les Billington. He lies there alone in a beautiful setting chaps from the Commonwealth would love. So very England, the old country they came to save. While I was there, I swear I felt someone next to me. Yet I was alone. Was it the spirit of Dad? I hope so. I hope he thought I was doing the right thing. While there, Susan, my wife, found a picture of a tree planted in memory of those who paid the ultimate price (our freedom) while serving at Oulton. This tree was planted on the very day my Dad died. How spooky is that? I would love to hear from anyone who knew my father and can share more about his wartime memories with me.
Rupert Crosbie
This article is from the Winter 2017 issue of Confound and Destroy
