‘We began to carry out low-level flights over France. These operations were known by the code name Rhubarb. The idea was to take full advantage of low cloud and poor visibility and slip sections of Spitfires across the coast and then let down below the cloud to search for opportunity targets, rolling stock, locomotives, aircraft on the ground, staff cars, enemy troops and the like…
…I loathed these Rhubarbs with a dark hatred. Apart from the flak, the hazards of making a let-down over unknown territory and with no accurate knowledge of the cloud base seemed far too great a risk for the damage we inflicted.’20
It is hard to disagree with Johnson, since the effect of the operations was relatively small, and did nothing to compensate for the losses of experienced pilots. The famed Robert Stanford Tuck and Douglas Bader were both shot down and captured during the course of the offensive, while slightly less well-known ‘aces’ such as Howard Blatchford, John Gillan, Eric Lock and Paddy Finucane were all killed.21 This is not to say that the use of fighters in an offensive role was without any value. Once the United States Army Air Force (USAAF) was equipped with long-range fighter aircraft, it was able to carry the war deep into Germany itself, escorting bombers and inflicting attrition upon the enemy fighter force. Among other things, this prevented the Luftwaffe from opposing the D-Day landings in great force, and began to remove experienced pilots from the fray. Indeed, Noble Frankland suggests that the use of long-range fighters over Germany was vital in winning the air war in Europe.22
Even though such strategic developments were of obvious importance, the tactical application of fighters in attempting to achieve these aims remained vital. Although the RAF had learned much about the use of the ‘finger four’ from encountering the Germans, this only applied to small groups of aircraft. Again, in a direct parallel with the First World War (although on a larger scale), pilots found that they were engaged in air battles involving increasing numbers of machines. The RAF had made attempts to use large formations during the Battle of Britain, most notably the famous ‘Big Wing’ led by Douglas Bader. This was a novelty for the RAF, for it had never previously attempted to use large formations of aircraft in a defensive situation. Although the German Spring Offensives of March-June 1918 had suffered greatly from air attack, actual air combat operations had been a secondary concern for the defenders. A further difference was the manner in which defensive air-to-air operations were conducted: in the Great War, the majority of combats were over enemy lines. During the Battle of Britain, then later the Battle for Malta, fighters worked almost exclusively over their own territory, without attempting to carry the war to the enemy.
While the gaining of air superiority was crucial, once won, the fighter force could have found itself with little to do. This was not the case, as fighter pilots found themselves engaged in ground-attack operations. The qualities of the fighter aircraft – speed, manoeuvrability and firepower – made it admirably suitable for the risky work of attacking ground forces. The RFC was arguably the first air service to make major use of its fighter aircraft for ground-attack, preferring them to developing machines specifically designed for such a role. Initially, pilots indulged in freelance operations as they were returning from patrols, but at the Battle of Arras in April 1917 the first co-ordinated operational orders for air support were issued. A combination of bad weather and inexperience meant that the missions did not achieve all that they might have done, but they showed great promise. At Third Ypres in July, the concept was proven to be effective, and came to the fore at the Battle of Cambrai at the end of the year. This had implications for a number of fighter pilots, who found themselves training for operations quite unlike any they had conducted before. Notable amongst them was Arthur Gould Lee of Number 46 Squadron. On 9 November, Gould Lee recorded his flying for that day:
‘My other flying was a low cross-country and bomb-dropping practice. We were actually ordered to do the low-level flight, which normally is officially frowned on. Our machines have been fitted with racks under the fuselage to carry four 20lb bombs, and a target has been laid out… I wonder what’s afoot?’23
This practice continued, until on 17 November he wrote home:
‘Over the past four days we’ve been hard at it practising bomb-dropping… I found it surprisingly easy to get close results [with bombs], in fact mine were the best in the squadron… I hope this unexpected skill doesn’t land me any awkward jobs!’
This cheerfulness masked his real concerns:
‘Something unpleasant is certainly brewing. We all feel it. First 3 and 46 [Squadrons] both getting Camels in such a hurry. Then this intensive practice in low bombing and low… flying… Another squadron, 84, with SE 5a’s under Major [Sholto] Douglas has arrived at the other end of the aerodrome… Every village in the forward zone is crowded with troops… obviously a big push is coming any time now.’24
The attack at Cambrai was launched on 20 November. Gould Lee was sent to attack enemy artillery batteries in Lateau Wood. His recollections of the incident were understandably vivid:
‘The batteries below are firing producing more smoke… there we are, the three of us whirling blindly around at 50–100 feet, all but colliding, being shot at from below and trying to place bombs accurately… In a sharp turn, I saw a bunch of guns right in line for attack, so dived at 45 degrees and released all four bombs… One fell between two guns, the rest a few yards away… I dive at another group of guns, giving them 100 rounds. See a machine-gun blazing at me, swing on to that, one short burst and he stops firing… A long column of artillery limbers… I zoom [climb] then switchback along the column spraying short bursts in each little dive.’
Gould Lee then became hopelessly lost, and landed alongside some men in a field, hoping to discover his location. Unfortunately, the men were German. He took off swiftly, and machine-gunned them:
‘I swung over, dived and let them have it. Some horses and men tumbled, the rest scarpered. I went down the sunken road they’d come from. It was full of horsed traffic. I dived on them and let them have it too, and saw men falling off stampeding horses. My dive carried me on to another road, with a column of marching troops. As I fired, they bumped into one another, then broke into the side fields.’25
Gould Lee recorded that the latter part of his attacks were easy, as there was no ground fire. This was unusual, and was a significant difference from the experiences of pilots in the Second World War, when there almost always seemed to be some retaliation from the ground. Gould Lee in fact found returning to base most difficult, as his compass failed and he could not navigate in the appalling weather. As a result he had to forced-land. The strain of ground-attack began to tell on his nerves. By 28 November his strain showed in his reference to the work as a ‘gardening spree’. His diary entry for the next day recorded:
‘This trench-strafing is all becoming rather a strain. In air fighting, chance is only one of the factors. But trench-strafing is all chance, no matter how skilled you are. To make sure of your target you have to expose yourself to the concentrated fire of dozens of machine-guns and hundreds of rifles… Of course, strafing behind the lines is different, the odds against you aren’t nearly so great.’
Although trench-strafing of German troops may have enhanced the morale of British infantry, it did nothing for the morale of the pilots. Attacks behind the lines, on the other hand, were usually a complete success, causing panic and confusion, even if they did not cause any injury to the enemy. The emphasis on trench-strafing saw aircraft casualties at Cambrai