At that stage I remember going to our Intelligence Officer and saying, well, look the claims were absolutely outrageous. There were some very, very good pilots in the aeroplanes – but I think it’s history now, and I suppose it was to keep the morale up, maybe, but we had a whole lot of glamour boys who over-claimed and this is proven now. I think the thing that impressed me most was that, while there were some individuals who were most likely the genuine scorers, there was a whole lot of people there that weren’t.
I think that what impressed me quite a lot in England was that when we arrived we’d come from all sorts of walks of life and were pretty rough, I suppose, socially, and a lot of these so-called English gentlemen looked pretty anaemic, weak physically; but when it came down to the real nitty-gritty, the anaemic-looking Pom was most likely the bravest of the lot. Of course they had something to fight for, it was their country, but what did impress was that these very, very nice chaps were tough.
We went through until we finished the Battle of Britain. We went to Scotland for a spell and then I joined 611 Squadron at Hornchurch where I did another tour on Spitfires, and then we were sent for a spell to Prestwick where Peter Townsend was the Wing Commander, Flying. He had a rose garden, and one night I had a nice little sports car and I tried to drive through the front doors of the Officers’ Mess and couldn’t make it, and backed out, but unfortunately I backed into Peter’s rose garden. Then I got my immediate posting to the Middle East.’
Another New Zealander, John Gard’ner, was accepted for a short service commission in the RAF and was under training in Britain when the war started:
‘On getting my wings I was posted as a Pilot Officer to 141 Squadron at Grangemouth, where I trained on and operated Blenheims. Our job in the Blenheims was to patrol in the Firth of Forth area, and as I recall the Germans were coming across from Norway or somewhere in that direction and I believe their target was the Forth Bridge and, of course, going on down to the Glasgow area. After a few weeks of flying the Blenheims – rather unsuccessfully as far as any action with Germans were concerned, and during this time we lost a number of aircraft, just plane crashes at night-time – we were told we were going to be re-equipped with the new Boulton Paul Defiant aircraft. Now those of us who had been on the Blenheims had to be now converted on to single-engine-type aircraft, and they brought in an old Fairey Battle. It was on this Fairey Battle that all of us pilots, who had been flying the Blenheims, were converted from twin-engined on to single-engined aircraft. Again, just circuits and bumps, and because the old Battle took so long to have its flaps come up and its wheels come up, we flew them just round the airfield wheels and flaps down until it was considered that we were well enough flying on single-engine ones to get into the first Defiants.
In the meantime we’d heard that No 264 Squadron, which was down south, they’d had their Defiants for some time before us and in the first few days they were doing extraordinarily well. The Germans didn’t know what they were and were being shot down rather rapidly by 264 Squadron. When the time came for 141 Squadron to get into the action, No 264 Squadron had been “sorted out” and the Germans actually had decimated it. We went down to take over from where 264 Squadron left off.
John Rushton Gard’ner (left)
We were posted to the airfield which is now Gatwick – it was a little grass strip quite near to Biggin Hill I think – and again we were put on to day flying training out of this little grass airfield there. It was a one-squadron airfield as I remember it. Anyway, this was day flying – we were just doing day training – and as soon as we were considered to be experienced enough we were sent down to Hawkinge for the first of our operational sorties. We flew daily; we flew out from Gatwick each morning down there and went at night-time back to this airfield.
The first patrols of the Defiant in daylight were not successful in any way – no fighter actions occurred – but on the third patrol which I was involved in we were sent off – I2 aircraft were ordered off. Nine of us got airborne because three of them turned out, well, had trouble, either engine trouble or trouble before they got to the take-off point, and didn’t get airborne. We took off and had got to some, I think it was, about 7,000 or 8,000 feet when we were jumped by 109s coming down out of the sun behind us. In those days we flew in formations of three, and I was tail-end Charlie in the third section.
I vividly recall what appeared to be white streaks of light going through my cockpit and out the front of the aeroplane and the smell of cordite and stuff, and, glancing to my left, I saw aeroplanes in flames and suddenly I realised that my engine was just stopping on me. I found that the rudder was loose, there was no control over the rudder, and I could wobble the joystick. Anyway, I thought I’m going to get out of here quick, so as far as I recall I sort of pulled the nose over and dived for the sea, which was down below me, thinking, “God, is that chap on my tail?”
Anyway, I just went down and down and I found I still had a measure of control. The engine had just stopped dead, and as far as I can remember the prop was dead in front of me. Anyway, I got down and I was able to level off and I could see a naval vessel way ahead and I thought, gosh, I don’t know what the speed was then, but I seemed to be going at quite a fast speed, and I thought, well, I’m going to try and land beside that naval vessel. Anyway, I overshot it and I went on and on and on and my speed was dropping off and dropping off, and finally I got to the point where I felt that at any minute now I was going to have to make a landing. Now, why I did it I don’t know, but I undid my straps, thinking I’m just going to plop on to the water and get out quickly. The result of that was, when the aeroplane finally stalled on to the water, the next thing I knew I was in Stygian blackness and I was in the water.
Anyway, I realised that I had to get up. I got out of the cockpit – I must have been knocked out just for a fraction – and I managed to struggle up to the surface which seemed a helluva long way up. Anyway, I came out of the surface and I realised that I’d been hit on the head; I felt a bit sore on the head, but otherwise I felt OK.
During this sortie, immediately after I knew I’d been hit by the enemy from behind, I had no response from my gunner – I’d heard no shooting from the gunner, my gunner sitting in the back there, and I presumed at the time that he must have been hit, because whilst I had armour plating behind my head, I knew that all he had to protect him was his own big gun turret. So when we went down and into the water, I did worry about him, but then he didn’t appear. I’d landed beside another little naval vessel – I think it was just a little torpedo boat of some sort which came roaring over and picked me up – and I recall again seeing my parachute, which I’d been sitting on, floating on the water, and I’d kicked off my lovely big black leather flying boots and they appeared to me to be floating almost side by side on the water. I suggested to the chaps who were picking me up, please go and pick up my boots, but they ignored me.
At this time I realised that I’d had a gash on my forehead. I was wounded in the sense that blood was pouring down in front of my eyes and I kept seeing blood, then I can’t recall much after that. I do know that the next thing I found myself in was a hospital in Dover, a small public hospital there, and there I came to again with stitches up the back of my head and stitches on my forehead and so forth, but otherwise unharmed. Thinking back on it, I realise, I think, that what got me on the back of the head was the fact that some bullets or something had hit that armour plating and had shattered something and had just torn the back of my head.
Anyway, I stayed in that hospital in Dover, and actually it was beautiful weather and I was lying in a bed and I could watch some of the battle going on and I was able to look out and see blue sky and the vapour trails of aircraft, whilst battles were going on just over that narrow