1943
‘Malta has been transformed into one vast aircraft carrier,’ wrote Richard Capell of the Daily Telegraph in January 1943. ‘In the messes one hears the latest gossip from Cairo, Gibraltar, Algiers. Someone was only last week in West Africa or Washington.’ Park, at the hub of this activity, continued to attract favourable attention. Eisenhower informed Portal on 5 January that if ‘Eastern Air Force could be placed under Park or another [officer] of equal experience and ability in Mediterranean warfare, we would have, for the immediate problem, a most happy solution.’ Sinclair wrote to Portal (who visited Malta late in January): ‘Tell Park how much I wish I could pay him a visit myself and congratulate him on the brilliant and varied exploits of his Squadrons.’ Gerald Gibbs was in Malta at this time and Park drove him round the aerodromes for a couple of days, ‘but there was little I could suggest to my old chief – he knew the job from A to Z. Gibbs reported to the Air Ministry on 8 January that ample skilled labour (army and civilian) permitted good runways, pens and accommodation to be provided and essential operations rooms, stores and workshops to be built safely underground. Given a small increase in maintenance personnel, Malta was capable of operating very large air forces efficiently.
Vice-Admiral Power, unfortunately, remained displeased. He thought the RAF’s over-the-sea performance ‘practically useless’ and as for the Maltese, ‘they think Europeans are getting more than their fair share of what is available. . . . Politically, Malta is not sound: a firm hand may be wanted any day.’ He entertained Park and Gibbs to dinner on 8 January. Gibbs was dismissed as ‘a poor creature, no brains and unattractive’ and although Park was admitted to be in good form, he recorded: ‘there is no depth in the man.’
Peter Wykeham, who served in Malta as a squadron commander for about seven months from Christmas 1942, thought rather better of Park. He was certainly vain and too fond of his own speeches, but Wykeham admired him for his record in the First World War and for his handling of 11 Group as well as for his work in Malta. Because Malta was besieged until near the end of 1942, there was no getting away from duty, no opportunity to get rid of ‘dead wood’, and so the maintenance of morale was particularly important. Park’s obvious bravery and readiness to go everywhere at any time were much remarked upon and Wykeham thought him an excellent commander both on the ground and in air matters.
In January 1943 Park reminded his squadron commanders, not for the first time, that Malta’s soldiers played a key part in keeping aerodromes operational. They were based in the island to defend it in the event of invasion, but unless or until that happened, they had no opportunity to play an active role in the war except in manning anti-aircraft batteries. They had been employed in many jobs which were really airmen’s work and Park insisted, very firmly, that his senior officers stop junior officers from making fun of the army’s passive role: such ‘fun’ did not help Park when he was pressing for the ‘odd ounce of bread to be added to the daily scale of rations’.
This firmness owed much to his recent memories of good work done by soldiers during the Battle of Britain and to a desire to preserve friendly relations with Scobie. At the end of January he asked Cairo if more airmen could be sent to Malta to take over duties presently carried out by soldiers; Scobie wanted to devote more of his men’s time to army training and Park sympathized. However, Cairo replied that the Chief of the General Staff would inform Scobie that assistance to the RAF in Malta must continue to take priority over army training. Scobie accepted the situation and also recognized that the siting of anti-aircraft guns and searchlights were matters for Park to decide. Gort, however, did not; neither did Vice-Admiral Leatham, when deputizing for Gort as Governor. It took a blunt instruction from the Chiefs of Staff in London to bring him to heel.
Park’s career almost ended in January 1943. He was en route to Cairo in a lone Beaufighter when five German bombers were seen. Park ordered his pilot to attack, but return fire knocked out the Beaufighter’s port engine, leaving it to fly back over 160 miles of open sea on the strength of the other one. Quite unabashed, Park organized a sweepstake with the other two men aboard on whether or they would make it and if not, how far short they would fall. When Park eventually arrived in Cairo, he received from Sholto Douglas (his old enemy in 1940) a richly deserved admonition. Nevertheless, it was an escapade of which he remained foolishly – or endearingly – proud, to judge by the currency it obtained in South-East Asia and in New Zealand. And he continued to risk his neck. In June 1943 there was a tremendous panic, recalled Clifford Piper (a Spitfire pilot) when Park went missing in his Spitfire for an alarmingly long time. The degree of concern, said Piper, reflected the men’s appreciation of his uncommon ability to combine firm authority with a pleasant manner: ‘he didn’t fuss or bully you.’1
In February 1943 Park had four aerodromes with a capacity to operate fifteen squadrons, but even before the outline plan for Operation Husky (the invasion of Sicily) was complete, a new aerodrome was being built and the others extended. In ten months the equivalent of more than 120 miles of fifteen-foot-wide road was laid in Malta, in runways and roads. By early July Park was able to operate thirty-five squadrons, some 600 aircraft. It took constant hard work and careful planning to build up an air force of that size from starvation level in November 1942. In particular, there was the need to book shipping space for supplies and technical stores months in advance at a time when changes in the planning for Husky were numerous.
Arthur Coningham, head of the Desert Air Force, addressed senior Allied officers in Tripoli on 16 February. Park obtained a copy of his address, underlined many passages, and would follow Coningham’s principles in South-East Asia as well as in Malta and Egypt:
The Soldier commands the land forces [said Coningham], the Airman commands the air forces; both commanders work together and operate their respective forces in accordance with a combined Army-Air plan, the whole operation being directed by the Army Commander. . . . The Army fights on a front line that may be divided into sectors, the Air front is indivisible. ... An Army has one battle to fight, the land battle. The Air has two. It has first of all to beat the enemy air, so that it may go into the battle against the enemy land forces with maximum hitting power. ... In plain language, no soldier is competent to operate the Air, just as no airman is competent to operate the Army.
Tedder also believed the Air front indivisible, despite the difficulties of combining a single Air Command with two Land Commands (one British, one American) and an independent RAF with an air force that was part of the United States army. Mediterranean Air Command, as it was called, came into existence on 17 February, the day after Coningham had enunciated his principles. It comprised Middle East Air Command (under Douglas, in Cairo), North West African Air Forces (under Lieutenant-General Carl A. Spaatz, USAAF) and Malta (under Park), all commanded by Tedder in Algiers. Tedder did his best to ensure that the armies received full aerial cooperation, but he would not countenance the control of aircraft by those armies. In Malta, Park made all operational decisions concerning aircraft, subject only to Tedder’s direction. Tedder trusted his judgment and initiative; had he doubted either, Park would long since have been removed from such a crucial position. Eisenhower shared Tedder’s confidence and even Montgomery trusted Park, because he was a New Zealander and therefore, in Montgomery’s opinion, steady and sensible as well as brave.
Malta was to be a major operational base, recorded Power in his diary on 1 March, and everyone was more cheerful. Park, however, remained very difficult and ‘important’. Bonham-Carter, who had succeeded Leatham as Vice-Admiral (Malta) was taking a much firmer line with Park, ‘but nothing can change the man, he is a twister.’ Power nevertheless lunched with Park on 4 March and was then taken round his aerodromes and underground workshops. He spend an enjoyable hour over the island in a Beaufighter – a treat arranged by Park – and a few days later had the opportunity to study the state of training of Park’s torpedo-bombers: ‘very feeble’ he thought. But on the 20th Park visited Power and they discussed methods of impeding a German evacuation of Tunisia. He was really first class, wrote Power, and a plan of action was agreed. This is one of Power’s rare favourable comments on another officer and the only one on Park.
Park had issued instructions for the spring offensive on the 11th. All commanders, he wrote, were to remember that ‘sweat saves blood and brains save both.’ He emphasized the need to train hard during lulls between battles and to recall not only past experience but to think up new tactics and practise them. Malta’s role was to achieve air superiority over Sicily, to undertake reconnaissance throughout the central Mediterranean, to protect friendly shipping and to attack enemy land and sea communications. Accurate navigation was essential, since so much work must be done over the sea, and take-offs and landings at dusk and in moonlight must be practised. He urged all commanders to plan every mission or exercise carefully and to discuss it critically afterwards, not only with each other but with the army and navy if they had been involved. Commanders must realize, he ended,
that they are not performing any favour but an essential duty by taking an active interest in the messing, housing, clothing and recreation of their airmen. The ground staff are just as susceptible to the ‘team spirit’ as aircrews and their interest and enthusiasm are to be fostered and not left to some ‘old sweat’. New ideas are always welcome at my Headquarters.2
‘It will take more than Rita Hayworth to cheer me up in these days,’ confided Power to his diary on 2 May. For several weeks he had been concerned about Bonham-Carter, who was deeply depressed, sleepless, and even contem-plating suicide. Power admitted that he had himself felt that way recently, but on the 7th he, in turn, succeeded Bonham-Carter as Vice-Admiral (Malta), handing over 15 Cruiser Squadron the same day. Bonham-Carter collapsed completely and had to be shipped home.
Park, meanwhile, was sternly rebuking his squadron commanders. He had observed aircraft at the Hal Far airfield taking off in all directions regardless of the wind, mess parties were carrying on too late at night and the airmen’s disparagement of British soldiers and Maltese civilians was continuing. Sadly, Park’s efforts to support Gort failed to sweeten relations with him and on 1 June Power recorded a ‘very stormy’ Defence Committee meeting at which Gort ‘went for B of B [presumably ‘Battle of Britain’] for all he was worth.’ In Power’s view, Park ‘deserved all he got. He is just a conceited idiot, I fear.’ But Tedder, a demanding commander, considered that Malta’s airmen maintained under Park ‘the standard of intense, devoted exertion which had charaterized Lloyd’s regime’ and even Air Chief Marshal Joubert, one of Park’s severest critics, was to admit in 1955 that he ‘had done great work in Malta during a most difficult period.’
Park’s life was not all work and quarrels, however. One visitor to his home recorded that a first impression of him ‘is one of handsome remoteness, dignity, and a cold aggressive efficiency’. But he had a lighter side: after dinner in his quarters, he would sometimes put a short plank, sea-saw fashion, over a smooth log. Guests were invited to stand as still as they could with one foot at each end of the plank. It could not be done for long and ‘guests crash in all directions. The AOC purrs.’ W.G.G. Duncan Smith also saw the more humorous side of Park. He had been posted to Malta to take command of a wing in preference to a local officer of Park’s choice, and he felt that Park regarded him with suspicion, particularly since he had served on Leigh-Mallory’s tactics staff at Bentley Priory. At dinner one night, however, Park caught his eye, smiled, and said: ‘As an ex-Leigh-Mallory boy, Duncan Smith, we won’t hold it against you if you help yourself to another glass of my port.’3
Vast numbers of VIPs and ‘not very IPs’ were finding their way to the island by June and drinking the Officers’ Mess dry. Park’s tolerance gave way on the 26th and he signalled Tedder’s deputy to say that during the past week forty-five officers from Africa had visited Malta excluding VIPs and their staffs. Many arrived without warning and most without evident duties; it would have to stop. AHQ Western Desert had moved to Malta on the 18th, followed by other formations, and Park was finding it difficult enough to arrange transport, meals and accommodation for those who needed to come and arrived when expected. At that time, he had nearly 16,000 officers and men, including civilians, under his command.
One welcome visitor was Trenchard, who arrived on 6 June. He was taken by Park to observe a ‘normal day’ at several aerodromes and spoke to the men in workshops, hangars and mess tents. An even more welcome visitor was King George himself, who arrived in the cruiser Aurora on the morning of 20 June and left that evening. He now invested Park with the insignia of Knight Commander of the Most Excellent Order of the British Empire (KBE), the award which had been announced the previous November. Gort received a Field Marshal’s baton and the King later visited several aerodromes, accompanied by Park. The last of the welcome visitors was Sinclair, who was brought to Malta from Tripoli by one of Park’s Liberators on 24 June and left next morning. Park had hoped to entertain Sinclair, but Gort insisted that a Cabinet Minister must stay with him and expressed ‘surprise and annoyance’ at not receiving a personal signal about Sinclair’s visit. Park wrote to Sinclair on 5 July, telling him that he had found room for another three fighter-bomber squadrons, which brought his total to thirty-five, as well as a small force on Pantelleria. Montgomery had recently arrived and was in great form: ‘I like him very much and find him easy to work with’; Admiral Cunningham had also arrived, ‘complete with a large staff, and would shortly be followed by other principal commanders.
On 12 June Portal informed Park that Drummond and Slessor were shortly to be promoted to Air Marshal. Since both had been junior to Park, Portal wanted him to know that their promotion did not mean that he had been passed over. On the contrary, said Portal, ‘I have the highest opinion of your ability as a commander.’ There is always some luck in these things,’ he added, ‘and you happen to be filling (with great distinction) a post which cannot justifiably be upgraded.’ He hoped Park would not interpret this letter as an intimation of early promotion, ‘but I do want to reassure you about the opinion which the Secretary of State and I hold of you.’ Despite this cautionary conclusion, it was clear to Park that if Operation Husky went well, he would be in the running for another important position. Could he now look forward to a major role in the invasion of Italy or the invasion of France, or would he be made a Commander-in-Chief?4
The Allied invasion of Sicily, which began on 10 July 1943, was a natural sequel to the final defeat in May of the Germans and Italians in North Africa. The African campaign, fought largely for control of the Mediterranean, could hardly be considered won as long as Axis aircraft, ships and submarines were able to threaten communications between Gibraltar and Suez from bases in Sicily. The same argument applied also to Axis bases in Sardinia, Corsica and Crete, but Sicily was held to be the principal danger and its conquest could lead directly to an assault on Italy. Operation Husky was the first major landing in the Second World War of seaborne troops against a fully defended shore and air superiority was clearly essential. More than 4,000 aircraft ensured that superiority for the massive surface forces employed: 160,000 men were landed in the first wave, with 600 tanks, 14,000 vehicles and nearly 2,000 guns. They were transported to Sicily by an Allied armada of 2,600 vessels under the command of Admiral Cunningham, who described Operation Husky as ‘the most momentous enterprise of the war’ to that date, because the Allies were ‘striking for the first time at the enemy in his own land.’ The control of all air forces based on Malta, Gozo and Pantelleria was exercised by Park’s newly constructed operations room. He controlled day-and night-fighters, night intruders, tactical reconnaissance, fighter-bombers, shipping escort and air-sea rescue as well as the air defence of those islands. The operations room functioned smoothly and presented a picture of friendly and hostile aircraft movements within a hundred-mile radius of Malta; it also plotted shipping convoys within a fifty mile radius. Here indeed was the pay-off for all the work done at Bentley Priory and Uxbridge. Malta was the forward headquarters of those who directed the invasion and its combined war rooms recorded, hour by hour, the constantly changing situation on the ground, at sea and in the air. It was largely owing to Park’s energy and experience that those preparations, in a war-torn island, were completed in time. By 17 August, after a campaign lasting less than six weeks, Sicily had been captured.
As soon as the campaign was over, Park recorded certain lessons learned during Operation Husky. Given good ground organization, he wrote, aircraft serviceability need not decline as soon as intensive operations began. A central point of operational control was essential for the efficient management of a large invasion. Squadrons needed a short period of intensive training prior to such an invasion, and it could be carried out in the area concerned without forfeiting tactical surprise. Squadron commanders need not be briefed until the day before D-Day, but wing commanders needed four or five days’ warning. An area within four miles of friendly shipping should be declared a ‘Gun Defended Area’ up to 10,000 feet and although fighters should be safe outside that area, gun crews still needed much more training in aircraft recognition. Whenever possible, ships unloading troops and equip-ment should lie close to the beaches, where fighters could protect both. Night-fighters could be controlled by Ground Controlled Interception (GCI) stations mounted in tank-landing craft and such stations were of great value as forward links to base control.
In his administrative report, Park recommended that units coming to the assembly-point for major operations should be self-supporting. He was most impressed by the American units, which arrived complete with their own food, water and cooking facilities. Their system could well be copied by British units. Park was to become confirmed in his admiration of American methods over the next two years. Many RAF units did not know their own strength, in men or material, whereas American documentation was excellent. On the whole he was pleased with the plans made and carried out, although he observed more than once that enemy resistance to the landing was unexpectedly light and this spared the system from a searching test.
Park ended his report by quoting a signal received from Eisenhower. It was obvious, Eisenhower had said, that the invasion could scarcely be classed as feasible had it not been for the ‘constructive accomplishments of the whole Malta Command during the past year.’ These things could not be published, but he wanted Park and his men to know of his obligation to them. The success of the operation, Park had replied, was sufficient reward. (A pleasing tailpiece to the history of friendly relations between Eisenhower and Park comes in the fortunes of a jeep named Husky, presented by Eisenhower to Park in July 1943. Almost twelve years later, that vehicle was presented to the people of Malta by the RAF and at the wheel was Flight Sergeant Emanuel Aquilina, who had driven it during the war; it is now a major exhibit in the National War Museum.)
One day in August, Park flew his Hurricane from Luqa airfield on Malta to La Marsa, near Tunis, arriving while Flight Sergeant Tet Walston, a photo-reconnaissance pilot, was on duty. The landing strip was the nearest to Tedder’s headquarters and so Walston had seen many senior officers passing through. He recognized Park and helped him to unload his luggage from the underside wing storage. Park told him that he had popped in en route from seeing an old friend on Pantelleria and they had gone shrimp fishing together. Suddenly he said: ‘Do you like shrimps?’ ‘Very much,’ replied Walston, whereupon Park opened one of his bags, took out some shrimps packed in ice and wrapped in a waterproof cloth, told Walston to get a container and gave him at least half. Not surprisingly, Walston was impressed by Park’s friendliness.
On 3 September 1943, the remains of a Gloster Gladiator named ‘Faith’ were presented by Park to Sir George Borg, Chief Justice of Malta, who accepted them on behalf of the people of the island. Park gave a brief account of the part ‘Faith’ had played in Malta’s defence. When Italy had declared war, he said, Malta had had no fighter defences. However, the RAF had obtained three Fleet Air Arm Gladiators and for several months these biplanes, named ‘Faith’, ‘Hope’ and ‘Charity’, together with a handful of Hurricanes, had performed prodigiously. ‘Faith’, the only survivor of the trio, had been recovered from a scrap pit where it had been dumped in busier days and restored to something recognizable before the ceremony.
As has long been known, the story is much exaggerated. The Italian challenge in 1940 was not serious, nor were the three names used in that year. It seems that some imaginative journalist invented them in 1941 and embellished the record of honest service performed by the Gladiators. The machine Park presented bears no sign of battle damage and probably survived the siege in a crate. The descriptive plaque which he had made assigns it the number of a Gladiator destroyed on 26 June 1940. It seems unlikely that members of Park’s staff deceived him and more likely that he sanctioned, or even inspired, this formal acceptance of a myth.5
On 1 September Park had written to Freeman (Vice-Chief of the Air Staff) to say that Tedder had granted him ten days’ leave in England. He asked permission to call on Freeman to discuss his future. While in London he was given no indication of his next move and October passed without his hearing anything firm. Tedder opposed Portal’s wish to appoint Park head of the Tactical Air Force in Coningham’s place and on 15 October Portal tried to persuade Tedder to accept him:
I know that Park has certain mannerisms which some people find a little irritating but I must say that in my opinion, for what it is worth, he has one of the finest records among the officers of his rank as an Operational Commander in this war. We cannot get away from what he did in the Battle of Britain under Dowding, or the way he kept Malta going through its darkest days. I know of no officer on whom I would rely more to get the very utmost out of the units which he commands, and I know from personal observations how his units trust him, and how all his subordinates work for him.
Tedder replied at once, on 17 October. He entirely agreed, he wrote, about the magnificent work Park had done. ‘I did consider him very carefully for the command of TAF. What surprised me was the adverse reactions I got from different directions and levels when I put abroad the report that Park was relieving Coningham.’ Park had been very severely stretched during the past year, he continued, ‘and has for the moment lost some of his ability to coordinate with other people and services.’ As for Major-General J.K. Cannon, USAAF, the man Tedder wanted to command the Tactical Air Force, he had more practical experience of air support to the army than any available RAF officer, including Park, and – as Tedder had already told Portal – T think we must now give the Americans their turn.’
Deferring to Tedder’s opinion, Portal decided on the 24th to send Park to Delhi as Air Officer in charge of Administration in India. Sinclair sought Churchill’s permission the same day. Churchill had asked Sinclair not to make any change in the Mediterranean Air Command until the reorganiz-ation he had in mind was further considered, but Sinclair asked him to allow this exception. Park, said Sinclair, ‘has a record of fine service in this war, culminating in the direction of the air operations for Husky from Malta. Now the war has slipped away from him and he is wasted in Malta.’ Churchill, however, refused to allow Park to be sent to India.
During December it was decided that Lieutenant-General Ira C. Eaker be made first Commander-in-Chief of the newly formed Mediterranean Allied Air Forces (MAAF) with his rear headquarters in Algiers and his advanced headquarters at La Marsa in Tunisia. Douglas was unwilling to serve under an American officer whom he considered his junior and Portal therefore offered him Coastal Command, a position acceptable to him, in place of Slessor, who became Eaker’s deputy and also C-in-C RAF Mediterranean and Middle East (MEDME), with his headquarters at Caserta, near Naples. Park, strongly recommended by Tedder, was promoted to Air Marshal, appointed AOC-in-C Middle East, and sent to Cairo for the third time in his RAF career. He wanted the job, Tedder told Portal, and would fit in well with the new organization. Promotion to Air Marshal and appointment as Commander-in-Chief were two substantial steps forward. Park’s new position was undoubtedly an important one. It would require a talent for establishing and preserving workable relations with numerous Allied air forces. He would also have to look after vast and widely scattered resources in men and materials, to identify and uphold the RAF’s best interests when dealing with British or Egyptian military, naval or civilian authorities. Nevertheless, there could be no disguising the fact that Park had not obtained one of the principal operational commands for the next stage of the war. With his record as a successful front-line commander in England and Malta, he had had high hopes of a third such command. But the war was far from won in January 1944 and Park was determined to show in Egypt that he still had the energy, powers of leadership and flexibility of approach to intractable or unexpected problems to justify another recall to the most dangerous front.
An editorial in the Times of Malta on 4 January 1944 marked his imminent departure (he flew to Cairo on the 6th). Park, it said, left Malta carrying with him the good wishes and gratitude of the people. During the period of his command, the Axis aircraft which had ‘enlivened the day and made hideous the night’ since June 1940 had been finally defeated. He had been provided with the tools and the men, but these would have been useless without his own skill and judgment. This renowned leader of the Battle of Britain demonstrated the effectiveness of the air cover for convoys to Malta. He was a born fighter and commander of men, a fearless leader and a man of courage and vision. Under Air Vice-Marshal Sir Keith Park, Malta had become a proud base for attack and had made the first breach in the Fascist fortress of Europe.6