Chapter 22

1941. The ‘New Deal’.

Throughout the first two years of the war, the training system had been hard-pressed to keep up with the demand for air crew. As a result, the RAF had been obliged to tolerate minimal standards in order to achieve maximum output. The inevitable consequences were high accident rates1 and inefficient operational forces. By the autumn of 1941, however, the situation was being transformed by the arrival of a rapidly increasing flow of trained air crew from overseas. Some of these men had gained their ‘wings’ in the USA but most had qualified at schools which had been set up in the Dominions under, what the British were pleased to call, the Empire Air Training Scheme (EATS).² (See pages 238-240 for a brief account of the background to the EATS).

With the pressure caused by the previous shortage of air crew beginning to ease, it became possible to consider increasing the amount of training they were being given. In December 1941, the Air Member for Training (AMT), Air Mshl A G R Garrod, submitted a paper to the Air Council proposing that the time spent in the air by a trainee pilot prior to joining a heavy bomber squadron should be almost doubled.³ Although not actually stated in the paper, the flying time allocated to observers had already recently been increased, to 130 hours (from 104 – see Figure 37 on page 236), of which at least 25 were to be flown at night.⁴ In view of the success of the various overseas training schemes, it was also recommended that responsibility for practically all basic pilot and observer training should now be transferred to the Dominions. Although a number of reservations were raised for subsequent resolution, the broad thrust of AMT’s proposals was promptly endorsed.⁵

While such positive steps were to be welcomed in isolation, they coincided with a dawning realisation that the Air Force needed to adopt a radically new attitude towards all air crew. The prevailing mindset within the Service still tended to reflect the outlook of the inter-war RAF when crews had operated on a ‘pilot plus’ basis. Plus who? Plus anyone really; it hardly mattered – only the pilot was of any real consequence. Two years of war had demonstrated just how ill-conceived this approach had been. Change, long overdue, was now becoming a matter of urgency because the increasingly sophisticated detection, navigation and bombing aids which were beginning to reach the squadrons was causing the centre-of-gravity within a crew to shift away from the pilot and towards the observer.

Garrod, among others, wanted the Air Force to abandon its entrenched ‘pilot plus’ philosophy and replace it with one which recognised that crews were teams of specialists whose individual expertise and professionalism were just as crucial to the success of a mission as those of the pilot.

While Garrod had perceived this problem from his position at the top of the heap, it was equally apparent down at the coal face, as a flight engineer, Flt Lt Ted Stocker, would later recall:⁶

‘… when I first started operating (in 1941), there were still those pilots, nearly all of them regular officers, who saw the rest of us as a nuisance. They believed we had volunteered simply because it was a fast way to earn promotion, and because there was extra pay involved. We joked that we were paid ballast. But later this impression changed. Pilots began to realise that survival depended upon operating as a crew. There was particular acknowledgement, for example, of the importance of the navigator. A pilot could be a skilful flyer but if he couldn’t find his way to the target, he was all but impotent. Respect became the watchword, respect for one another’s duties and responsibilities.’

The substantial improvements in training instigated by Garrod came to be known as the ‘New Deal’. With hindsight, however, one can see that other ideas which were crystallising at much the same time were just as significant and, in the context of this book, these too will be treated as consequences of New Deal thinking. The recommendations and observations raised by a high-level Aircrew Training Conference held in London in early 1942, represented a significant step forward in this context.⁷ But it would be September before most of the necessary changes would actually be in place and another year before the final echoes of the ‘bad old days’ died away.

1942-43. Flight Engineers are formally recognised as being air crew.

Symptomatic of the New Deal ethos was the adoption of a more realistic attitude towards flight engineers. In December 1941 AVM R H M S Saundby, had written to the Air Ministry to point out that, ‘It is becoming increasingly evident that the Flight Engineer’s position as a member of an aircrew is just as important as any other member – and it is essential that he should cease to be considered by others, and above all by himself, as an ‘extravagance’ – or even as unnecessary.’⁸ A few months later, in March 1942, revised regulations governing the provision and terms of service of flight engineers were published.9

Since much of the instrumentation that he needed to monitor was located on a panel mounted on the starboard wall of the cockpit, the ergonomics of the flight engineer’s station in a Lancaster clearly left something to be desired, if he chose to take advantage of his foldaway seat alongside the pilot. (IWM CH12289)

The main change was that, ‘while employed in the air they will be regarded as members of the aircrews for all purposes other than promotion’ (author’s italics). This had not gone quite far enough, however, as flight engineers remained on their Trade Group rosters and, if promoted beyond the rank of sergeant, they were to cease flying and resume their duties on the ground. As a result, although flight engineers effectively answered to their Flight Commanders on a daily basis, the various Engineering Officers on their squadrons retained an element of responsibility for what were still regarded as being essentially ground crew personnel. Flight engineers, it would seem, were neither fish nor fowl – or perhaps they were both!

By this time flight engineers had become a familiar feature of the air crew community but, unfortunately, not familiar enough. By mid-summer only a third of the 6,000 airmen required had volunteered themselves for flying duties and a substantial proportion of them had failed to make the grade in training. The unavoidable conclusion was that ground personnel simply did not want to fly, at least, not in anything like the numbers required. Since skilled fitters were not volunteering in sufficient numbers, the recruiting field had already been widened to include flight mechanics (engine).¹⁰

In August 1942 the net was extended to include fitters II (airframe) and flight mechanics (airframe) and at the same time the potential for divided loyalties was finally removed when it was announced that, ‘flight engineers now form a separate air crew category.’ That is to say that, rather than having their annotation tacked on in brackets behind their primary trade, flight engineers were now to be formally remustered in their own right.

The severing of their remaining ties to the Technical Branch was underlined by two initiatives. First, the introduction of commissions within the GD Branch on the basis of one junior officer in every squadron or operational training unit in which flight engineers were employed, eg the contemporary Conversion Flights and the later Heavy Conversion Units. The second change concerned pay in that the previous entitlements to air gunner and crew pay were superseded by an inclusive air crew daily rate of (for a sergeant) eleven shillings.¹¹

While this clearly indicated a major change in policy, it took a surprisingly long time, in some quarters at least, for the system to cater for its implications. Witness J Norman Ashton’s recollections of his arrival on No 103 Sqn as late as May 1943:¹²

‘On joining a new unit, it was customary for members of a crew to report to their respective leaders and to meet the other boys in the section. At that time, however, this did not apply to flight engineers. They had neither leader nor section and the only person to take the slightest technical interest in them was the Squadron Engineering Officer. Usually, he was too busy with the maintenance of the aircraft to devote much time to flight engineers and they were left very much to their own devices.’

Things did change slowly, however, and when Ashton joined No 156 Sqn in October 1944 he notes that it had a Flight Engineers Section, complete with a flight lieutenant Leader.

In the meantime, large, mostly four-engined, aircraft were being operated in ever-increasing numbers and in a widening variety of roles, practically all of these aeroplanes requiring a flight engineer. Apart from the demands of Bomber Command’s ‘heavies’, Coastal Command needed flight engineers for its Sunderlands, Fortresses, Catalinas, Halifaxes and Liberators to which Transport Command would soon add Stirlings, Yorks and more Halifaxes.

Unfortunately, despite broadening the spectrum of trades from which flight engineers could be drawn, and adding air crew rates of pay to the prospect of wearing three stripes and a badge, serving personnel were still not prepared to volunteer for flying duties in sufficient numbers to satisfy the ever increasing demand. In the event this turned out to be less critical than had initially been feared, because experience had begun to show that the Service had probably been demanding an unnecessarily high level of technical competence of its flight engineers; indeed, it was even beginning to doubt that it was essential for them to be experienced ground tradesmen. As early as December 1941, for instance, in his letter to the Air Ministry, to which reference has already been made, SASO Bomber Command had expressed the view that mental agility, alertness, intelligence and keenness were the most important qualities that a flight engineer needed to possess. While his responsibilities obviously required him to understand the systems that he was operating, since he was not expected to carry out any maintenance procedures more complicated than Daily Inspections, Saundby had argued that he did not need to be a highly skilled fitter.13

The flight engineer’s panel in the Stirling was mounted on the starboard wall of the fuselage, forward of the main spar but well aft of the pilots station. This provided him with quadruple banks of gauges and switches which permitted him to monitor oil pressures and cylinder head temperatures, control the fuel system, adjust engine rpm, feather propellers, operate fire extinguishers and so on.

At the time this suggestion was still a little too radical to gain the endorsement of the engineering staff. Nevertheless, by accepting airframe (in addition to engine) tradesmen, they did begin to lower the entry level during 1942 and the accumulation of further experience indicated that the recruiting of direct entrants for ab initio training as flight engineers might be a practical proposition after all. While this provided a comforting rationale to justify such a major change in policy, there can be little doubt that expediency will have been a major factor, as there appeared to be no other means of solving the manning problem.¹⁴ Accordingly, therefore, in June 1943, the RAF introduced the direct recruiting of civilians.¹⁵

This innovation was accompanied by a reduction in the pay of a sergeant flight engineer from twelve shillings to ten (inclusive of one shilling’s worth of war pay in both cases). Since the whole idea had been to attract additional volunteers, this may seem to have been a little perverse but it was actually entirely logical. The original rate of pay had been agreed on the assumption that a flight engineer would actually be a fitter II(E), or an airman who would have been brought up to an approximately equivalent standard of technical expertise. There was no way that a hastily trained direct entrant could be regarded as a Group I tradesman, hence the adjustment in the rate of pay, which brought flight engineers into line with the WOp/AG – although anyone already drawing the 1942 rate had preserved rights and any later internal recruits retained their current rates of pay if these were more advantageous.

At the same time as direct entrants began to be accepted, the flight engineer’s career prospects were improved by replacing the previous arrangement, whereby commissions were pegged to one per unit, by a quota similar to that enjoyed by WOp/AGs, ie up to 10% on graduation and a further 10% on active service.¹⁶ While the new rules did not preclude suitably qualified serving airmen from continuing to volunteer to fly, the proportion of civilian entrants was to rise steadily over the next two years until they far outnumbered those being drawn from the ranks.

There was one more significant change to the flight engineer’s circumstances in 1943. In May of that year, a shortage of accommodation at Nos 1 and 7 Air Gunners Schools (AGS) meant that they would be unable to provide gunnery training for the next three months. Bomber Command, which required a constant flow of new men, and many of them, stated that it was prepared to accept flight engineers unqualified in gunnery and the much smaller numbers required by Coastal Command were diverted to No 1 AAS at Manby where they attended a three-week Emergency Gunners Course. Instructions were issued for air gunners badges and sergeants stripes to be awarded at the end of the St Athan course until further notice.¹⁷ While these measures had been introduced ‘on a temporary basis’, like many such interim expedients it soon became permanent and gunnery effectively ceased to be an integral element of the flight engineer training sequence, although appropriate courses continued to be provided for those who still needed to double-up as a gunner.

1940-45. Changes in policy affecting the employment of Air Gunners in heavy bombers.

Since the advent of the four-engined heavies had significant implications for air gunners, as well as flight engineers, this is a convenient point at which to provide a brief summary of the impact that changing tactics and advances in technology had on their working environment.

Among the wartime military community there was a small lobby of largely scientific, as distinct from uniformed, opinion that advocated the deletion of gun turrets.18 It contended that they were of doubtful value and that losing their weight and drag would yield a significant saving in manpower (armourers as well as air gunners) and an increase in performance that would result in a substantial reduction in losses. This argument made little real headway, although it was given some substance by the later versions of the Mosquito which, while they may have lacked the absolute weight-lifting capability of a four-engined aeroplane, could overcome this limitation to some extent by doubling-up – two two-man Mosquitos each carrying a single 4,000 lb ‘Cookie’ versus a seven-man Lancaster carrying an 8,000 pounder, with both of the Mosquitos having a much better chance than the Lancaster of getting home to repeat the exercise another day. While the maths could be made to look attractive, it never overcame the ingrained experience of WW I – and never seriously questioned thereafter – which had demonstrated that defensive gun positions were simply essential, nor did it take account of the impact on morale if crews, accustomed to having a self-defence capability (however limited) in which they were obliged to put their trust, were to be deprived of it.

So, while the provision of guns, and the men to operate them, was never seriously challenged, there were some notable changes in policy that had an impact on the way that bombers defended themselves. As epitomised by the Wellington and Lancaster, it is evident that powered nose and tail turrets were standard features of both the first and second generations of the classic heavy bombers of WW II.¹⁹ What is less clear, however, is how defence was to be provided against attacks from the beam.

Ever since the HP ü/400 of WW I, most of the RAF’s heavy bombers had been provided with a dorsal defensive station and some means of firing downwards to deter attacks from below. By the mid-1930s the Heyford had been provided with a retractable ‘dustbin’ from which the hapless gunner was supposed to protect the lower hemisphere against all comers with a single hand-held Lewis gun. In increasingly complex forms, this pattern was followed by the Whitley and Wellington, and the Manchester, Stirling and Halifax were all intended to have had even more sophisticated ventral gun positions.

Unfortunately, early operational experience soon demonstrated that the belly turrets of the Whitley and Wellington were of little practical value, because the restricted view meant that it was difficult to acquire and track a target, and beam attacks proved to be a rarity in any case. Worse still, when extended, the drag penalty could be as much as 20 mph, at a time when speed was critical. Furthermore, if hydraulic pressure was lost that penalty became permanent if battle damage ruled out manual retraction and/or jettisoning, in which case a successful landing would have been out of the question. The belly turrets in existing Whitleys and Wellingtons were soon abandoned, locked in the retracted position or, since they now represented close to half-a-ton of dead-weight and restricted movement within the aircraft, removed, and deleted from later production aircraft.

Interior of a Halifax showing VGO machine guns mounted in beam hatches as an interim measure pending the provision of a powered mid-upper turret.

This change in policy had a major knock-on effect on the new ‘heavies’ just as production was getting under way and in the summer of 1940 it was decided to discontinue the provision of ventral turrets. As a result, only a handful of the belly turrets that had been designed for Manchesters, Halifaxes and Stirlings were built and very few of these were ever fitted. Instead, for beam defence, both of the four-engined types were provided (as was the Wellington) with manually operated flank gun positions while the Manchester did without. This was only a temporary arrangement, however, and in 1941 power-operated dorsal turrets were installed, FN7s for the Manchester and early Stirlings, FN50s for later Stirlings and Lancasters, and the Boulton Paul Type C, and later the Type A, for Halifaxes.

This was not quite the end of the story, however, as provision of an ‘under defence gun’ came back into fashion in the summer of 1943. By June 1944 207 Halifaxes had actually been fitted with a single, hand-held 0·5-inch machine gun in a Preston Green mounting (see page 256) and, by the same date, 48 Lancasters and 68 Stirlings were also reported as having been provided with a very similar arrangement.20 This programme had already been short-circuited, however, by a late 1943 decision to provide Main Force aircraft with mapping radar and the installation of an H2S scanner left no room for a gun position.

Above – Nash and Thompson’s classic FN20 which became the standard tail turret for the Lancaster, Stirling and Warwick and later models of the Whitley, Wellington and Manchester. Below – The Boulton Paul Type E fitted to the Halifax and early Liberators. The guns, in both cases, were rifle-calibre Brownings. (R Wallace Clarke)

There was one other aspect of evolving defensive armament policy that is worth noting – gun calibre. When the RAF went to war in 1939, its operational philosophy had envisaged its bombers flying in formation in daylight, permitting the massed fire of their guns to create a virtually impenetrable wall of fire. There proved to be several flaws in this concept. First, the Hampdens, Wellington Is and Whitley IIIs that were available at the time were armed with pan-fed ·303-inch Vickers Gas Operated (VGO) machine guns, sometimes mounted in pairs, but more often singly, in relatively primitive turrets or even, as in the Hampden, simply hand-held. In short, they were quite incapable of putting up a significant hail of bullets. But, even if they had been, there was no effective way to co-ordinate the defence so that its fire was directed at the target that represented the greatest threat. As a result, the potentially massed fire – such as it was – was dissipated in individual engagements.

Secondly, and as noted above, the ventral turrets that had been intended to provide defence against attacks from the beam proved to be unsatisfactory. Thirdly, in view of the ineffectiveness of its defences, the best thing for the bomber to have done would have been to take evasive action, but this was not really an option as it would have dislodged the keystone of contemporary defensive tactics which were based on flying in formation.

Finally, the damage that could be inflicted by one or, at best two, rifle-calibre machine guns was limited – which was one reason why the RAF had put eight of them in its fighters. Although the Luftwaffe’s fighters were initially armed with guns of a very similar calibre to those of the British bombers (7·9mm v 7·7mm), they had more of them. Action was already in hand to upgrade the defence by installing power-operated tail turrets armed with two or four belt-fed Brownings, but they were still to be of ·303-inch calibre and would soon be outranged by the 20mm cannon, with its far more destructive shells, that armed the Bf 109 from mid-1940 onwards.

As a result of the unacceptably high loss rates that it had sustained in daylight, the RAF had largely resorted to night bombing by the early summer of 1940. Over the next three years Bomber Command would be re-equipped with much larger and more powerful aeroplanes featuring power-operated multi-gun turrets with reflector gunsights and ample supplies of ammunition. But they were still armed with ·303-inch Browning machine guns, whereas the armament of German night fighters now routinely included two or four 20mm cannon, sometime supplemented by the 30mm MK108. More to the point, the provision of armour plate, ‘bullet-proof windscreens and self-sealing fuel tanks had made the German fighters relatively impervious to rifle calibre bullets. By 1944 the RAF’s bombers were seriously outgunned and to restore the balance heavier machine guns, or even cannon, were needed and these began to appear in the autumn. Late model Halifaxes had a pair of 0-5-inch Brownings mounted in a Boulton Paul Type D tail turret, matched by a pair of similar guns in the Lancaster’s new FN82 or Rose turret. To complement these it was intended to replace the mid-upper turret with a Bristol B17 armed with a pair of 20mm Hispanos; this plan was not realised, although the B17 was fitted to the post-war Lincoln.

There was one more technical development which might well have swung the balance back in favour of the defence – the introduction of radar. During the last few months of the war a tail-warning radar, VILLAGE INN, began to be installed in some Lancasters. The gunner still had to manipulate his turret manually to aim the guns at the radar response and (with range information relayed by the navigator or WOp(air), who had a suitable display at his station) judge when to open fire. It was envisaged that this procedure might eventually become so refined that, having acquired a target, the turret would be able to track it and open fire automatically. Whether it was operating manually or automatically, however, a reliable form of IFF was needed to prevent bombers engaging each other and a suitable system was being installed when the war ended.21

By 1945 the increasingly inadequate ·303” machine guns were gradually being replaced by a pair of much heavier 0·5” Brownings with the prospect of radar-assisted gun-laying. This is a Boulton Paul Type D turret fitted with VILLAGE INN radar installed in a late-model Halifax. (R Wallace Clarke)

1942. The composition of heavy bomber crews is revised – pilots and gunners.

It will be recalled that in 1937, in an attempt to improve standards, it had been decided to make navigation the responsibility of a second pilot who was (where this was practical, and not already the case) to be added to the crews of bomber aircraft. The following year this responsibility had been transferred to the observer, but the additional pilot had been retained. By the autumn of 1941, with the flight engineer having been introduced to take on the task of fuel and engine management in the four-engined heavies, there was little work of any substance left to occupy this second pilot. Bomber Command’s requirement for pilots was much greater than that of any other Service organisation, partly because of its size, partly because of the need to replace heavy losses but mostly simply because it employed two pilots in most of its aeroplanes. Since one of them was, arguably, no longer really earning his keep, a reappraisal of the responsibilities of pilots was clearly overdue.

This question appears to have been raised for the first time in a formal setting at a Bomber Command Group Commanders Conference held on 30 October 1941. Following on from this, AVM W F MacN Foster, who, as AOC 6 Gp, was responsible for crew training, took the lead in pursuing the matter, the argument soon being broadened to consider the functions of all members of a bomber crew.²²

Following an extensive canvassing of views among other senior officers, it was decided, in March 1942, at the fourth of a series of Air Ministry policy meetings convened to review the overall constitution of bomber crews, to dispense with co-pilots altogether.²³ Since this would permit either the demand on the training machine to be reduced by something like 1,000 pilots per year, or a substantial extension of the time spent under instruction, it was difficult to argue with this decision. Nevertheless, AOCinC Bomber Command, Air Mshl A T Harris, did express some misgivings, as he considered it necessary for captains to have someone to relieve or assist them at the controls on long flights and/or in an emergency. It was agreed to allay his concerns by the provision of autopilots and by an undertaking to train another crew member in basic aircraft handling. It was initially decided that a suitably trained nonpilot would be referred to as a ‘pilot’s mate’ but this term was rapidly superseded by ‘pilot’s assistant’.²⁴

Along with the decision to do without a second pilot came a reduction in the requirement for dual-qualified WOp/AGs. Since there was only one wireless station in a bomber, it was agreed that the current establishment of two WOp/AGs per crew should be reduced by half. It was also agreed that the dorsal and tail turrets should be manned by straight air gunners, which rather begged the question of which guns the remaining WOp/AG was supposed to man, once the Wellingtons and the early Halifaxes had been withdrawn along with their free-mounted beam guns. This question was not raised at the time, but it would be eventually (see page 259).

It is worth noting that this change in manning policy applied only to Bomber Command. As was often the case, Coastal Command went its own way, continuing to require the majority of its wireless operators to be fully qualified as gunners.

1942. The composition of heavy bomber crews is revised – observers/navigators.

Having dealt with pilots and gunners, the meeting turned its attention to relieving the ever-increasing workload which was being carried by observers, the only member of a bomber crew who worked ceaselessly, and under constant and considerable pressure, from take off until a few minutes before touch down. To quote Bruce Lewis, a veteran of thirty-six Lancaster sorties flown with No 101 Sqn:25

‘When I flew as a wireless operator I was able to observe at close quarters the unimaginable stress under which the navigator worked for long periods of time. He had to maintain almost superhuman detachment, even when the enemy was doing his best to destroy the aircraft in which he was working, and when his pilot was twisting and turning and diving and climbing in a corkscrew effort to escape that destruction.’

While there may have been less tension in other roles, the pattern of working under constant pressure was not confined to Bomber Command. Edward Nichols, a WOp/AG who flew in Whitleys, Wellingtons and Halifaxes of Coastal Command for much of the war, notes that the two or three crew members of his trade were able to relieve each other by rotating every hour or so between stints in the tail and/or mid-upper turret, at the wireless position or as radar operator.²⁶ Similarly, the two pilots (which Coastal Command retained) were able to take turns at the controls. Only the single observer/navigator was required to work continuously, and largely unaided, for the entire duration of a flight. Much the same heavy burden was carried by observers in Ferry (later Transport) Command and even in Fighter Command, although, in the latter case, the fact that night fighter and intruder missions were of relatively short duration probably made the strain less apparent.

The demands being placed on bomber observers by 1942 had already been considerably increased and the imminent introduction of new devices and changes in tactics meant that something had to give. For the first two years of the night bombing campaign the concept of operations had involved each crew finding its own way to and from its target. In practice, although many of them did not realise it at the time, it would have been more accurate to say that they failed to find their way to and from their targets. Nevertheless, despite its disappointing results, the bomber offensive had provoked the Germans into creating an increasingly dense and efficient network of defences. As a result, the RAF’s losses had risen.

The British counter to the strengthened German defences was the bomber stream which involved all crews following a predetermined track within strict time limits, the aim being to pass as many aircraft as possible through the defended area in the shortest possible time.²⁷ This increased the impact of the attack by focusing its effect while reducing losses by overwhelming the defences. Success in this endeavour depended upon each aircraft’s staying on time so that it maintained its place in ‘the queue’ which would also help to minimise the risk of collision. It was equally important that each aircraft should also stay on track, because those which strayed from the herd lacked the protection offered by the clouds of aluminium foil (‘Window’) which were being dropped to interfere with the enemy’s radars. Such isolated targets were more easily singled out by searchlights and radar permitting them to be picked off by anti-aircraft guns or night fighters.²⁸

The navigator in a Lancaster. (IWM CH12288)

The increasing availability of GEE made it possible to navigate with the necessary accuracy – so long as the set kept working and the nominated target was not too far east of the Ruhr. The equipment could not do it by itself, however, and it required the almost constant attention of the observer to achieve the desired results. At the March meeting Air Mshl Harris explained that it was no longer practical for the observer to abandon the navigator’s station 50 to 100 miles from the target in order to become a bomb-aimer.

There was no dispute that navigation and bomb-aiming would have to involve two people in the future, but which two? Two solutions were offered. One involved bombing being assigned to a bombardier, in effect a second crewman of pilot/observer ‘quality’, whose training course had been rebalanced so that its content favoured bomb-aiming at the expense of navigation. The other, and much cheaper, option would have introduced an ‘assistant navigator’, who would relieve the observer prior to the target in time for the latter to move to the bomb-aiming station and adjust his night vision for the attack. This crewman’s relatively limited responsibilities meant that much of his training could be carried out on ground-based synthetic systems until he joined a crew at the OTU stage. This issue was not actually resolved at the March meeting but not long afterwards it was decided to make bomb-aiming a discrete function which was to be conducted by a dedicated crew member.

There was some initial uncertainty as to the label to be applied to this new air crew category. ‘Bombardier’ had gained some early currency in staff circles, but in April the Air Council ruled this out in favour of ‘air bomber’.29 Relieved of the task of bomb-aiming, the observer would now be able to devote his whole attention to navigation so, to reflect this change in his duties, it was intended that the observers who flew in heavy and medium bombers (later extended to include those who flew in night and long-range fighters) should be redesignated as navigators.

As an aside, it should perhaps be recorded that by the summer of 1941 there was already a growing tendency for observers to be referred to as ‘navigators’, even in some official documents.³⁰ Indeed Air Mshl F W Bowhill had tentatively mooted the idea of introducing this designation as early as 1936 when, as AMP, he had been considering ways and means of expanding the air crew reserve. In the context of recruiting, he wrote:³¹

‘But my principal concern is that of Observers. We want to get these fairly young, but will they come in and will the title of “Observer” have anything like the attraction of that of “Pilot”? It is a matter of opinion and I suppose the point can only be settled by practical experience. I suggest the title of “Navigator” might overcome the difficulty.’

While dealing with nomenclature, it should also be acknowledged that, while one of the new categories was to be officially designated as the ‘air bomber’, and this label was certainly applied in the upper reaches of the hierarchy – in formal correspondence raised at Ministry level, for instance³² – it gained little recognition at the bottom of the heap. In workaday documents and in colloquial use, the men who aimed bombs were almost universally referred to as ‘bomb aimers’. Nevertheless, since the aim of this book is to record the facts, here the correct terminology will be used throughout.

It will be recalled, incidentally, that the addition of a flight engineer in early 1941 had increased the size of a crew from six to seven men (see page 196). The deletion of the second pilot in mid-1942 had notionally restored the total to six but this had been offset by the subsequent substitution of the observer by a navigator plus an air bomber. In short, while there had been an extensive reallocation of responsibilities within a bomber crew, there had been no change in the overall manpower bill; a four-engined ‘heavy’ still required seven men. The same was true of the remaining five-man Wellingtons where the second pilot had been replaced by an air bomber. That said, the initial scarcity of appropriately qualified personnel meant that a variety of interim arrangements had to be implemented and it would be the spring of 1943 before the new crewing patterns became the norm.

1942. The composition of heavy bomber crews is revised – the pilot’s assistant.

Having decided to do away with second pilots, it had yet to be decided who best to employ as pilot’s assistants, and this was a question that took some time to answer. The navigator, wireless operator and gunners were soon ruled out on the grounds that they could all be expected to be fully occupied. That left only the flight engineer or the new air bomber.

It was initially assumed (by AMT at least³³) that this task would fall naturally to the flight engineer but, since the problem was largely to do with bombers, it was accepted that Bomber Command should have the last word. It took some time for the staffs at High Wycombe to reach a decision but in June 1942 HQ Bomber Command eventually stated its preference to be for air bombers.³⁴ The air bomber therefore became the designated pilot’s assistant in Stirlings and Halifaxes, but not in Manchesters and Lancasters, because the layout of the flight deck of these aircraft made it more appropriate to use the flight engineer.³⁵

By early May, most of the implications of these decisions had been digested and advice was being disseminated within Bomber Command as to how the new policy was to be implemented.³⁶ The deletion of second pilots was to begin immediately, although it was anticipated that there would be some delay before qualified pilot’s assistants, ie air bombers, became available in significant numbers.³⁷

It was also considered necessary to make a start on relieving the observer of his bomb-aiming tasks as soon as possible. Pending the availability of air bombers, therefore, some of the WOp/AGs who had recently become surplus to requirements, along with some volunteer air gunners, were to be trained in bomb-aiming as a stop-gap measure. They were to be remustered as air bombers on a strictly temporary basis, reverting to their original category as soon as they ceased to be employed as air bombers.38 To supplement inhouse training on the squadrons, an Air Bomber Training Flight was set up within each of the four heavy bomber groups. Formed in June 1942 these units were closed down in the following March by which time formally trained air bombers were beginning to reach the squadrons in substantial numbers. (See also page 261).

The air bomber in a Lancaster with his MkXIVstabilised bomb sight. (IWM CH12283)

1942. The Ottawa Air Training Conference – the introduction of the Air Bomber and the replacement of the Observer by the Navigator.

While the Air Ministry and Bomber Command had been pressing ahead with revised arrangements for the manning of bombers, it is questionable whether they could, in practice, have actually implemented this policy unilaterally. This was 1942, not 1939, and by this time many of the men flying with RAF squadrons were RAAF, RCAF and RNZAF personnel. While their various governments were content that these men should serve under British command, they deserved to be consulted over such a major change in manning policy. Furthermore, a large, and rapidly increasing, proportion of British (and other) air crew were receiving their basic training overseas. The changes in Bomber Command’s requirements, not least the introduction of an entirely new air crew category, were bound to have a considerable impact on the joint training machine. At the very least it would be necessary to adjust the content of existing courses and the numbers of each trade required. Consultation was clearly advisable, if not essential.

An appropriate forum at which to discuss this and many other matters was provided by the Air Training Conference held in Ottawa in May-June 1942.³⁹ The conference was a major international affair, involving the British, the Dominions, the free allied governments and the Americans, who were now directly engaged in the war. Convened to review all aspects of training, the conference had several aims. Perhaps the most important was to renew the mandate under which training was being conducted in Canada, since this was due to expire in March 1943. It was agreed to underwrite this joint enterprise for another two years, the scheme being known as the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan (BCATP) with effect from 6 June 1942 (but see page 240). An attempt was also made to co-ordinate the BCATP with the rapidly expanding American training programme, although little of substance was ever achieved in this respect.

Much of what was discussed at Ottawa need not concern us here but it was one of its sub-committees, chaired by AVM R Leckie, which endorsed, on behalf of the other concerned governments, the latest British policy for the composition of RAF bomber crews.⁴⁰ With the decision already having been made, however, planning for the provision of air bombers was well in hand and the new category was formally introduced while the conference was still in session.⁴¹

While his primary tasks were to be the aiming and dropping of bombs, an air bomber was also to be trained in navigation so that, by providing him with pin-points and other visual cues, he could act as the ‘eyes’ of the designated navigator within a crew. Furthermore, apart from being able to assist the pilot when required, the air bomber was also to be qualified in gunnery so that he could man the nose turret. Such multi-skilled crewmen would plainly have to be very capable individuals and their entry standard, rate of pay and commissioning quota were to be those previously confined to pilots and observers and, like them, once qualified, they were to hold the minimum rank of sergeant.

Associated with the advent of the air bomber had been the introduction of the navigator, although it had initially been planned to retain some categories of observer. This was causing some confusion in Ottawa and the British High Commissioner eventually sought clarification from London. A signal of 27 May attempted to provide this but without much real success. It confirmed that, while navigators were to be introduced for most roles, observers were to be retained for general reconnaissance aircraft and light bombers (of unspecified type). This was reasonably clear but the signal went on to muddy the waters by stating that Mosquito bombers would require an observer (W/T), while long range fighters were to have a navigator (W/T) and night fighters a navigator (radio).

The need to respond to this question had evidently served to concentrate minds, however, and it was soon appreciated that all of this was unnecessarily complicated. On 2 June the Air Council decided to do away with the observer altogether in favour of a variety of sub-categories of navigator (see below).42

The Canadians were formally notified of the final version of the new titles of all air crew categories on 10 July with a request that they concur. The Canadians having agreed, the authorities in Australia, New Zealand and Rhodesia were informed on the 14th and they too agreed to adopt the new nomenclature.⁴³

1942. The Ottawa Air Training Conference – air crew and commissioning policy.

It will be recalled that a few months after the outbreak of war it had been agreed to commission up to 50% of pilots and observers, the proportion of gunners being fixed at 20% in 1941 (see pages 188-189). To ensure parity with the RAF, the Dominions had been prevailed upon to use the same proportions within their own air forces.⁴⁴

Since then, however, the RAAF, RCAF and RNZAF had all been considerably expanded and they had all matured as fighting services. As a result, the Australian, Canadian and New Zealand governments had begun to develop their own perspectives on the status of air crew. In view of the considerable contribution that these Dominions were now making to the prosecution of the war, they expected their views to be taken into account.⁴⁵ While the British had been more or less able to dictate employment policy in the early days, a much greater degree of compromise was called for by 1942 and this became very apparent at the Ottawa Conference where commissioning policy proved to be a contentious issue.

The sub-committee dealing with this topic was chaired by Air Mshl Garrod, who was presented with a wide range of opinions. In essence, the New Zealanders advocated an ultra-conservative approach, withholding all commissions until an individual had demonstrated his ability in service. At the other extreme, the egalitarian Canadians wanted to commission all pilots and observers, plus 25% of WOp/AGs, on graduation and another 25% in the field. The workmanlike Australians held the middle ground, recommending the abolition of the quota system and commissioning anyone who deserved it.

For the record, the US Army Air Force delegation reported that they were currently commissioning 80% of pilots, 100% of navigators and 50% of bombardiers, although it was intended to reduce the proportions of both pilots and navigators employed as officers. The Americans did not commission any of their air gunners, radio operators or flight engineers.⁴⁶

For the British, it was the Canadian view which presented the greatest difficulty, since, it was argued, if practically all air crew were to be officers it would seriously undermine the entire concept of the commission. The Canadians countered that the question was somewhat academic, as leadership was hardly a factor in an aeroplane where the efficiency of a crew depended on the skills of its individual members and teamwork, not the issuing of commands. Furthermore, the existing arrangements frequently resulted in the ridiculous situation of an officer gunner’s being subordinated to an NCO pilot in the air, their precedence being reversed when they were on the ground. Finally, the Canadians pointed out that, since they all faced the same hazards, it was invidious for some members of a crew to be treated differently from others, especially as NCOs were paid less for taking the same risk.

There was little prospect of reconciling the various arguments that were being advanced and the end result had to be a compromise. The British insisted on retaining the quota system, at least in principle, but conceded that it need not be imposed rigidly. In other words, while the notional overall 50% constraint on the commissioning of pilots, navigators and air bombers was supposed to remain in force, there was to be no practical limit on the numbers who could be commissioned while on active service (although, for their part, the British still intended to make some attempt at observing the 50% maximum within the RAF).

The ultimate arbiters on the standards required were to be the various national authorities. While it was not publicly acknowledged to be the case, the end result probably resembled most closely the Australian idea of commissioning anyone who was considered to deserve it – in the light of the standards required by his particular national authority. Suitable provision was made for the resolution of any disputes which might occur. For example, if the British authorities were to reject the commissioning recommendation of, say, an RNZAF sergeant serving in an RAF squadron, it would be possible to arrange for him to be transferred to an RNZAF unit.

That said, the Canadians soon made it very clear that they had no intention of being bound by any arbitrarily imposed quotas. During the last quarter of 1942 no fewer than 57% of RCAF pilots and 54% of RCAF navigators were commissioned on graduation. Furthermore, while stopping short of actually introducing a 100% officer policy, the Canadians also tended to be increasingly liberal in their assessments of NCOs seeking commissions from the ranks.47

Fig 32. The matrix of non-pilot air crew categories announced in July 1942 and the associated badges which were introduced in the following September.

In view of the RAF’s declared intention of adhering to the 33% + 17% = 50% quota system, it is of some interest to consider what this meant in practice. It will be recalled (see page 189) that in the period up to April 1940 45·6% of pilots had been commissioned, 19·4% on graduation and 26·2% from the ranks, the corresponding figures for observers (for whom commissions had only just been introduced) being 7·8%, all of them on graduation. The figures covering the wartime period to the end of December 1942 showed that 47·4% of RAF pilots had been commissioned, 28·8% on graduation and 18·6% from the ranks. The position of observers/navigators had improved somewhat, although they were still well below the numbers permitted by the 50% formula and thus they still had some way to go to achieve parity with pilots, their total over the same period being only 31 ·6%, 22·8% on graduation and a mere 8·8% on active service.⁴⁸

1942. The rationalisation of air crew categories.

The air crew trade structure, as it existed in the spring of 1942, had been cobbled together in a series of reactions to changing circumstances. Most of these changes had been, and still were being, brought about by increasing specialisation and this needed to be reflected within the range of available air crew categories. So far as observers were concerned, for instance, while a core of common practice remained, the new mechanical and electronic aids which had begun to reach the squadrons meant that the specific activities of individuals could differ quite markedly, depending on the type of aircraft and role to which they were assigned. Thus, there were few similarities between the airborne duties of observers flying in Halifax and Lancaster bombers, and those who flew in maritime strike Beaufighters, Mosquito night fighters or Catalina flying boats. The requirements of different roles and the demands imposed by various types of aircraft had also complicated the categorisation of gunners and it was apparent that they too needed to be sub-divided.

These topics had been discussed at Ottawa and there had been broad agreement that it was time for reform and the introduction of a revised matrix of air crew categories was eventually announced in July 1942.⁴⁹ The salient characteristics of the new arrangements are summarised at Figure 32.

Introducing the new categories was a complicated business which made waves within the training system and had some impact on the employment patterns of individuals already on active service, many of whom had to be reclassified to match one of the new categories.⁵⁰ Furthermore, while the range of sub-categories of navigator had been intended to cover all operational roles, there were inevitably cases which did not fit comfortably into one of the recognised slots and these anomalies took time to sort out.⁵¹

Associated with the revision of air crew categories was the RAF’s adoption of the ‘PNB’ concept, an idea which was already in use in America. Endorsed in May 1942, the policy was not actually implemented until August but thereafter, only potential flight engineers and air gunners continued to be earmarked at the initial selection stage; the rest, unless there was some specific medical constraint, were simply categorised as PNB, ie as potential pilots, navigators or air bombers.52

As a dive bomber, the Vengeance (this one, AN656/OBH, belonged to No 45 Sqn) was not a comfortable fit in the RAF. As a two-seater it should, as defined by the scheme promulgated in July 1942, have been crewed by a Nav(W) but a WOp/AG probably made more sense. See Note 51 to this chapter. (C Birkbeck)

It took more than a year for most of the ripples caused by these changes to die away, not least because wartime conditions created a fluid situation and changes continued to occur. For example, as previously noted, a problem at the Air Gunners Schools in mid-1943 led to the majority of flight engineers, those destined for Bomber Command, graduating without being formally trained in gunnery. While this concession had originally been granted ‘on a temporary basis’, it soon became a permanent arrangement and gunnery ceased to be an essential element of a flight engineer’s skill set.

1942. New air crew categories – new badges

Two months after the revision of air crew categories had been announced the changes involved were highlighted by the authorisation of new air crew badges⁵³ (see Figure 32). All of these were variations on the theme of the air gunners badge of 1939, the only difference being the monogram contained within the laurel wreath.

Under the new regulations the ‘RO’ badge and the flying ‘O’, both of which had been superseded by the ‘N’, became redundant. Although they were now obsolete, the rules authorised the continued wearing of the ‘O’ and ‘RO’ badges by personnel who had qualified for them ‘but who were no longer available by reason of age, medical standard, or otherwise for posting for the duties of one of the new categories of air crew.’ This permitted men who had flown as observers in WW I to retain their badges while serving (with the RAF – see page 273) in other capacities during WW II, this having been legislated for as early as September 1939 when large numbers of veterans had signed on again.⁵⁴

While it was plainly intended that anyone who was actually engaged on flying duties should be wearing a current badge, this rule proved to be almost impossible to enforce. By 1942 many observers had logged a considerable amount of operational flying time and some of them felt a deep attachment to their battle-stained badges. As a result, substantial numbers of, what were now, navigators defied authority by declining to replace their flying ‘O’s with the new-fangled ‘N’. The waters were muddied further by the fact that ‘B’ badges had not yet been introduced when the category of air bomber had first been instituted. In anticipation of the graduation of the first home-grown batch of air bombers from No 2 (Observers) Advanced Flying Unit at Millom on 3 August, advice was sought as to the kind of badge with which they should be presented. The only option at the time was the flying ‘O’ and this was notified to all concerned, including the Canadian training schools, on 29 July.⁵⁵ Few, if any, air bombers will have flown on operations before the ‘B’ badge did become available but, even so, many of them proved to be reluctant to trade-in the badges that they had been awarded on their graduation parades.

Something similar had already occurred in the context of observers being trained in the USA under a commercial arrangement with Pan American Airways (see pages 241-242). Because this course covered only navigation, its graduates left Miami still as aircraftmen and without badges, pending further training in bombing and gunnery. In view of the anticipated introduction of the category of the dedicated navigator, however, it was arguable that these men could now be regarded as being fully qualified against the more sharply focused requirements of the new trade. On 10 June 1942 the RAF Delegation in Washington signalled the Air Ministry to ask whether future graduates from Miami would be categorised as navigators.⁵⁶ The Air Ministry sent a holding reply to the effect that they were not really sure but, in the meantime, authorising the award of a flying ‘O’. Since the Miami men were to be awarded their badges, it followed that they should also be given their three stripes and Washington sought confirmation of this on the 13th.

It would seem that the author of the first response had exceeded his authority. On the grounds that these American-trained personnel still could not be regarded as being fully qualified, even against the revised RAF requirements, London’s second signal vetoed the award of sergeant rank and withdrew the right to wear a badge. The denial of sergeant rank was not a problem but, having already passed on the good news about badges to Miami, the reversal of the first decision was extremely embarrassing to the staffs in Washington who pleaded for the original ruling to be reinstated.

The ‘O’ badge ‘continued to be worn, quite illegally, throughout the war and for many years thereafter.’ Above – Sqn Ldr T W Blair, a veteran of No 83 Sqn. The juxtaposition of a flying ‘O’ with a Pathfinder badge was, technically, impossible because the former had been declared obsolete in September 1942, two months before the latter had been introduced. This picture actually dates from no earlier than November 1944, but who was going to argue with someone who had flown almost 100 ops and was wearing the ribbons of the DSO and DFC*? Below – Air Cdre C E (later Air Mshl Sir Charles) Ness, when Air Commander Gibraltar in 1973, wearing an ‘O’, as he is said to have done throughout his career. That required a very generous interpretation of the rules, however, as he did not enlist until 1943 and completed his training in 1944, long after the ‘O’ had been superseded by the ‘N’.

The Air Ministry acceded to this request on the clear understanding that the badge would be withdrawn if the wearer were to fail any of the subsequent courses that he was required to attend. Thus, for a time, the RAF was obliged to live with the anomaly of part-trained LACs already sporting flying ‘O’s while attending their post-USA courses in the UK. These men would eventually graduate as navigators (or possibly air bombers) but, since they had once worn an ‘O’, it is quite likely that some of them continued to do so.

In the event, the problem of inappropriate badges was to drag on for several months, because, although the Order which had introduced the ‘N’ and ‘B’ (and the ‘E’) had been published in September, stocks of these emblems were not actually available. As a result, some newly qualified navigators were reportedly still being presented with obsolete flying ‘O’s in early 1943. These men should all have swapped their badges once the new patterns became available but, like the early air bombers, some of them were determined to hang on to the badge with which they had been presented on graduation.

Nevertheless, by the spring of 1943 ample supplies of all of the correct badges were readily available and there was no real excuse for anyone to be wearing the wrong pattern in 1944. In October of that year, therefore, the rules governing the wearing of badges, both current and obsolete, as enshrined within King’s Regulations, were restated.57 While everyone was aware of ‘KRs’, of course, they were hardly bedtime reading, which is why significant changes were always reflected in an Air Ministry Order, which everyone was supposed to see. In this case the Order had been published in the previous June; it read:⁵⁸

‘Members of aircrews, irrespective of their having qualified at some time for more than one of the air crew badges, are not in any circumstances to wear an air crew badge other than that appropriate to the particular air crew duty in which they are categorised or mustered. An officer, on ceasing to be employed on air crew duties, and an airman, on being remustered out of air crew category, may elect to wear any one of the badges for which he may have qualified.’

This could hardly have been clearer. Moreover, this was not a new rule; it merely reinforced the regulations which had been in place since 1940 (see Chapter 20, Note 13). There could now be no doubt whatsoever that, since the category of observer no longer existed, no one being employed on flying duties was entitled to wear a flying ‘O’. It was all to no avail. People who had been awarded a flying ‘O’ since the outbreak of war (or earlier⁵⁹ – and perhaps even some of those who had not) were determined to show that they were old hands. This venerable badge continued to be worn, quite illegally, throughout the war⁶⁰ and for many years thereafter.⁶¹

As previously noted (see pages 196-197), the initial attempt to introduce a distinguishing ‘FE’ emblem for flight engineers had been frustrated and they had been obliged to masquerade as air gunners. Prompted by the precedent set in May 1941, when the ‘RO’ badge had been introduced (thus establishing that, despite earlier reservations, it was, after all, perfectly acceptable to ‘deface and disfigure’ the ‘AG’ badge), the debate was re-opened in the following September.62 As before, the idea failed to provoke any significant reaction among the staffs until the matter was raised in public at an Air Ministry conference held in February 1942 when it appeared to gain the positive support of, inter alia, the delegates representing Coastal and Bomber Commands. Despite their endorsement, however, this still failed to produce the desired result, partly perhaps because the whole question of crewing policy, air crew categories and badges was then undergoing a major overhaul.

An AMO, revising the flight engineer’s conditions of service, that was being drafted at the time was to have included a specific reference to an ‘FE’ badge but when it was eventually published in March this actually read ‘the flight engineer’s badge.’⁶³ But did this mean the ‘AG’, which was the badge currently authorised for flight engineers, or was it an oblique reference to the possibility of a dedicated badge being introduced? Other references on file make it clear that this was meant to indicate the continued use of the air gunners badge but, in Bomber Command at least, people soon began to take matters into their own hands. By July – two months before a dedicated badge was officially approved – individual flight engineers were reportedly being locally authorised to unpick the ‘AG’ lettering on their gunners badges and re-embroider them with an ‘FE’. ⁶⁴

Another possible source of ‘FE’ badges could have been the RCAF, which may have introduced a single-winged ‘FE’ for the benefit of Canadian flight engineers being trained in the UK. If this did happen, however, these badges were certainly unofficial.⁶⁵ Before long some of the more enterprising haberdashers and military tailors had begun to manufacture and lay-in stocks of (approximately) RAF-pattern ‘FE’ badges. All of these emblems were illegal, of course, until the new range of air crew badges was finally announced in September. Unfortunately, when that did happen, the officially sanctioned monogram for flight engineers turned out to be a single ‘E’, rather than the anticipated ‘FE’!

To begin with, Service channels were unable to provide the appropriate emblem so, eager to replace their inappropriate gunners badges, many flight engineers elected to obtain their own. Since commercially manufactured ‘E’s (and ‘FE’s?) were relatively easy to find, a variety of nonstandard styles became commonplace until 1943 when the supply system finally caught up. By this time, of course, as with the obsolete flying ‘O’, the illegal ‘FE’ had earned its battle honours and some of the men who had survived a tour of operations wearing one were reluctant to give them up. Examples of illicit engineer’s emblems were still being worn, very proudly, into the 1950s.⁶⁶

Once a ready supply of ‘E’ badges did become available, however, it would seem that the Air Force may have failed to treat them with an appropriate degree of respect, which was a little disappointing for the men who were destined to wear them. Many years later one ex-flight engineer saw fit to comment on the marked informality associated with his passing out from St Athan in July 1943. As Frank Bryant recalls:⁶⁷

‘Gone in a flash were our expectations of some high-ranking officer pinning our half-wings onto our manly breasts and saying, ‘Well done,’ as he shook us by the hand. We had all seen this happen to pilots who had recently got their wings when it was shown on the Gaumont British News; but for us things were a little different. We did not even have the dubious honour of marching past our own Commanding Officer. True, the CO did appear, but he only made a little speech after the Adjutant had called us to attention and told us how he was gratified to know that we had all passed our exams and were now all sergeants. He pointed out that, although we were aircrew sergeants – as opposed to ‘proper’ ones – we were still regarded as NCOs and would be expected to behave as such. He wished us, ‘Good luck,’ in the future and then he walked away. And that was that!

Our wings, or rather half-wings, were issued to us later in the day, together with our stripes, over the long wooden counter in the Station Stores. They were given, or perhaps I should say tossed, to us by a scruffy-looking LAC with lank greasy hair and a very bad case of halitosis, who bade us, ‘Sign ‘ere chum’, while indicating a column in the Stores Ledger with a well-nibbled finger nail.

Somehow it all seemed a bit of an anti-climax.’

1942. Controversy over the design of air crew badges.

While the new styles of badge had created a minor stir, this paled into insignificance when compared to the controversy which had preceded their introduction. When the revised composition of bomber crews had been under discussion in March 1942, it had been proposed, by CAS himself, that all air crew ‘should wear a double wing similar to that worn by pilots’ with an appropriate letter or distinguishing mark to indicate the function of the wearer.⁶⁸

Ostensibly, Sir Charles Portal had made this proposal because there was some concern that the public did not fully appreciate the significance of single-winged badges. This, it was thought, might have been having an adverse effect, both on recruiting and on the morale of those who were obliged to wear them. It is tempting to speculate, however, that Sir Charles might also still have been smarting from a sense of injustice at having been obliged to begin his own flying career by being shot at while wearing only ‘half a badge’. Whatever the reason, it was agreed that his idea warranted deeper consideration. This task fell to AMP, Air Mshl P Babington, who wrote to the AOCinCs of the five UK-based flying commands, seeking their reactions to the idea of twin-wings for all and advising them of the likely introduction of the extended and revised range of air crew categories, which was then still in the planning stage. 69

Only Bomber Command felt able to give any measure of support to the proposal, suggesting a twin-winged design, smaller than the pilots badge, and of a different colour, and featuring appropriate emblems, such as crossed spanners for flight engineers. Otherwise the response was overwhelm-ingly negative, and occasionally quite outspoken. At Fighter Command, Sir Sholto Douglas was ‘strongly opposed to […] any change in the present design of badge.’ Douglas had canvassed the opinions of his Group Commanders and they too were opposed, AOC 10 Gp, AVM A H Orlebar, considering it ‘a great pity to change the flying badge’, while AOC 11 Gp, AVM T L Leigh-Mallory, thought that ‘it would be resented by pilots’ and AOC 12 Gp, AVM R E Saul, believed that ‘the pilots badge should stand out above all others.’⁶⁹

Sir William Welsh at Flying Training Command pro-vided a lengthy and considered response, although he too rejected the idea of a double wing. He went further and suggested that, apart from possibly changing the present ‘O’ to an ‘N’ there was little justification for any further meddling. In fact, he questioned the need for some crew members to have a badge at all, likening the flight engineer to the many drogue operators at his Air Gunners Schools, each of whom was flying up to 60 hours per month without having to be given a badge of any kind. Coastal Command’s Sir Philip Joubert de la Ferté was deeply affronted by the proposal, declaring that he had the ‘strongest objection to non-pilots being given a two-winged badge’ and ending his letter, ‘Yours, at a very high temperature.’

AMP reported his findings to the Air Council which discussed the matter on 28 April. Undeterred by the generally negative reaction and mindful that, since Bomber Command was the major employer of non-pilots, its response probably counted for more than the others, CAS directed that the AOCinCs should be asked to reconsider.⁷⁰ After some revision, to reflect Bomber Command’s specific suggestions, Babington circulated the proposal again. This time some of the AOCinCs seem to have been distinctly put out, presumably at having had their opinions ignored. Whatever the reason, Babington’s second trawl certainly provoked some intemperate language. Air Mshl Sir Arthur Barratt at Army Co-operation Command deplored the fact that the pilots badge was to be ‘prostituted’ but, if it was, he thought that any symbols devised to identify trades would be too small and that it would be better to use a simple letter. Joubert de la Ferté excelled himself, restating his ‘strongest objection’ to anybody but pilots wearing double-wings and protesting his resentment that ‘Bomber Command should be forcing (the idea) upon us because it happens to suit their book’. As to what sort of symbol should be incorporated in the design, Sir Philip suggested – ‘a penguin.’⁷¹

Unless they just happened to be ‘spare’ air crew, the drogue-operators who flew in target tugs did so as unbadged ground tradesmen. This Lysander target tug, T1444, flew with No 5 AOS.

This second wave of rejections settled the matter and by 19 May the Air Council had virtually agreed to drop the twin-wing idea, this decision being confirmed at a meeting held on 2 June.⁷²

1942. The new air crew categories – were they ‘new’ and were they necessary?

Since the New Deal and its aftermath had ultimately led to the demise of the observer, it is worth considering just how ‘new’ all of this had really been and reflecting on the necessity for its introduction. There can be little doubt that all of Garrod’s reforms, particularly the extension of training time, had been needed. It is unlikely, however, that many (any?) of the RAF’s senior officers will have appreciated that what the subsequent redefinition of air crew categories had done, in effect, was to implement a scheme that had been devised by Sefton Brancker as long ago as 1918 (see page 127).

So, if Brancker had already solved the problem, why did Garrod have to do it again in 1942? The answer clearly lies in Trenchard’s decision to dispense with professional nonpilot air crew in 1919. With hindsight there can be little doubt that this had been a serious error. One of its more unfortunate consequences was that it had obliged the RAF to go over so much ground again. During WW I it had taken three years (1915-18) for the activities of non-pilot air crew to diversify to the extent that they needed to be recognised as separate trades. Surprisingly, since it had not had to cope simultaneously with having to develop every aspect of military aviation from scratch, as its predecessors in the RFC and RNAS had had to do, it took the RAF another three years (1939-42) to do more or less the same thing in WW II. This had clearly been lost or, more precisely, wasted time.

________________________

¹      AIR6/61. The Air Council’s attention was drawn to this problem by Air Mshl Garrod in his memorandum AC 70(41) of 6 December, in which he reported that in late 1941 the average monthly losses of operational aircraft from accidental causes were running at sixty-seven in Bomber Command, seventy-eight in Fighter Command and twenty-five in Coastal Command. The regular loss of 170 aeroplanes, the equivalent of more than ten squadrons, was accounting for some 20% of the production output of operational aircraft.

²      AP3233, Vol 1, RAF Flying Training – Policy and Planning. The output of the EATS in the twelve months to 2 September 1941 had amounted to 1,822 observers and 3,041 WOp/AGs and air gunners (plus 7,265 pilots), to which totals, over the same period, the schools in the UK had contributed a further 2,158 observers and 8,320 WOp/AGs and air gunners (plus 6,792 pilots). These raw figures are misleading, however, as the UK schools were already operating close to capacity whereas the overseas system was just beginning to hit its stride and its output would increase dramatically in 1942.

³      AIR6/61. AMT’s memorandum AC 70(41) of 6 December – see Note 1.

⁴      AIR20/1367. Syllabus for the Basic Training of Air Observers in War, published in October 1941. This provided for: 3 hours of initial air experience; 47 hours as 1st navigator; 50 hours as 2nd navigator; 18 hours as 1st/2nd bomb aimer and 12 hours of gunnery – see page 244.

⁵      AIR6/72. Minutes of Air Council Meeting AC 23(41) held on 9 December.

⁶      Ted Stocker, A Pathfinder’s War (2009), p 144.

⁷      AIR20/1334. Report on the Aircrew Training Conference held in London between 23 January and 18 February 1942. Convened by the UK and chaired by Capt Balfour, it was attended by representatives of the air forces of the Dominions and observers from the USAAF and USN.

⁸      AIR2/8122. SASO Bomber Command letter BC/S.24611/Trg dated 7 December 1941.

⁹      AMO A.262/1942 of 19 March.

¹⁰    Ibid.

¹¹    AMO A.978/1942 of 15 August.

¹²    J Norman Ashton, Only Birds and Fools (2000), pp13-14 & 92.

¹³    AIR2/8122. SASO Bomber Command letter BC/S.24611/Trg dated 7 December 1941.

¹⁴    AIR29/737. As an illustration of the wastage rate within the selection process, let alone the training system, No 4 SofTT’s ORB notes that, in response to a direct appeal in February 1943, 110 aircraftmen volunteered for flight engineer duties on completion of their basic Flight Mechanics Courses. Of these: 40 were assessed as being educationally unsuitable; 20 were medically unfit; 10 changed their minds and 5 were not recommended for miscellaneous reasons. Only 35 were referred to an Aviation Candidates Selection Board, 68% of the field having fallen before reaching even the first fence.

¹⁵    AMO A.538/1943 of 3 June.

¹⁶    AIR2/8348. The rationale behind both the revision of commissioning quotas, and the revised rates of pay, were outlined in Air Ministry letter S.88449/F.2 dated 12 February 1943 to T Padmore of HM Treasury in which F.2, R C Richards, sought sanction for the financial implications of these changes.

¹⁷    AIR2/8123. Memo S.70262/T Mech dated 17 May 1943.

¹⁸    Among these was Freeman Dyson, later to become a notable physicist but in 1943 a mere 20-year old Cambridge graduate and junior member of the staff of HQ Bomber Command’s Operational Research Section (ORS). For his opinion as to the value of turrets, see his Disturbing the Universe, pp25-26.

¹⁹    This is not entirely true. Because there were, in practice, few opportunities to use the front guns, especially at night, the heavy and drag-inducing power-operated nose turret was abandoned in the main production versions of the Halifax, the Mks III and V, in favour of a single hand-held machine gun in a streamlined fairing.

²⁰    AIR2/2662. Minute DO(FP)/1034 dated 8 June 1944.

²¹    This was the ‘Z Equipment’, a pair of infrared headlamps fitted in the glazing of the bomb-aimer’s station that can sometimes be seen in photographs of late wartime Lancasters and Halifaxes.

²²    AIR14/1942. AVM Foster is generally perceived to have been the driving force behind the campaign to dispense with second pilots, his most significant inputs being three letters dated 31 October 1941 and 9 and 13 January 1942, all of them written under the reference 6G/S.2360/Air.

²³    AIR2/2662. Note of a Meeting held in the Air Council Room on Sunday, 29 March 1942, under the chairmanship of CAS, Air Chf Mshl Sir Charles Portal, to discuss the composition and training of air crews in medium and heavy bombers.

²⁴    AIR14/10. In preparation for this meeting, the Secretary of State had asked how many times a bomber had been landed by the second pilot because the captain had been incapacitated. A trawl of the Group HQs (via BC/S.20173/Trg dated 18 March 1942) established that there had been seven, one in No 4 Gp, three in each of Nos 3 and 5 Gps and none in Nos 1 and 2 Gps.

²⁵    Bruce Lewis, op cit, p7.

²⁶    Edward Nichols, We Held the Key (1996), p33.

²⁷    It should be understood that the ‘stream’ did not involve ‘formation flying by night’. Each crew still flew as a singleton, but following a common flight plan. The result was several hundred aeroplanes flying in a block of airspace perhaps 150 miles long (shorter later as techniques improved, permitting greater concentration and reducing the time at risk), up to two miles deep and perhaps five miles wide until it reached the target when the width reduced to zero as each aircraft funnelled-in to fly through the same aiming point at a rate of about one every five seconds.

²⁸    While the stream provided the core of Bomber Command’s later, and ultimately spectacularly successful, methods from the spring of 1942 onwards, this brief description conveys little impression of the real complexity of the conduct of a night bomber raid. Many other techniques were developed to increase the effectiveness of the campaign and to minimise losses. Space precludes these being explored in detail here. Suffice to say that by 1944/45 a typical raid would involve deceptive routeing and be supported by diversionary attacks, both of which served to distract and dilute the defences. Apart from defining and, if necessary, refining the aiming point, the Pathfinder Force would often place markers along the route to the target. Selected crews would determine the ‘Zephyr wind’ en route and this was broadcast for the benefit of the Main Force, the use of a common wind velocity assisting in maintaining the coherence of the stream. Further support was provided by No 100 Gp which employed a variety of electronic and other methods to jam, mislead and confuse the enemy’s defences and, ultimately, a force of night fighters which accompanied the bomber stream as a direct counter to the Luftwaffe.

²⁹    AIR6/73. Minutes of Air Council Meeting 7(42) held on 24 April 1942.

³⁰    Tee Emm, for instance, was referring to navigators and/or navigator/bomb aimers from as early as May 1941. Since the learned staff of that august organ made a virtue of having their editorial ears close to the ground, this use of a strictly incorrect term is far more likely to have been a well-informed reflection of current patois, than a mistake.

³¹    AIR2/2586. Minute, dated 17 February 1936, from Air Mshl Bowhill to Mr Scott of S.7 commenting on the latter’s outline proposals for the composition and organisation of (what would become) the RAFVR.

³²    A classic, and relatively accessible, example is the October 1943 edition of the Flying Log Book – the RAF Form 1767 – the cover of which notes that it is for use by navigators, air bombers, air gunners and flight engineers.

³³    AIR6/62. Note AC27(42) dated 5 April 1942, submitted to the Air Council by AMT in which he described several changes in flying training policy, some of which were the result of the decision to rationalise the composition of bomber crews.

³⁴    AIR2/2662. HQ Bomber Command letter BC/S.20173 dated 24 June 1942.

³⁵    Ibid. An enclosure on this file, tabulating the composition of bomber crews as at 30 December 1942, includes notes reflecting which member of the crew was the designated pilot’s assistant on each aircraft type.

³⁶    Ibid. HQ Bomber Command letter BC/S.20173/Trg dated 4 May 1942 from SASO, AVM Saundby, to all subordinate Group HQs.

³⁷    Because of the necessary post-graduate training that he would be required to undergo, an observer cadet who had been remustered to the new category of air bomber as he approached the end of his navigation training course in Canada at the end of May 1942, would not have reached a squadron in the UK much before January 1943. A summary of what postgraduate training involved and of how long it could take is provided towards the end of Chapter 25 (see pages 254-257).

³⁸    AIR2/2662. Minute, dated 8 August 1942 from AMP, Air Mshl P Babington, on file A.384730/42.

³⁹    AIR20/4101. Ottawa Air Training Conference, Minutes and Proceedings, 19 May-5 June 1942.

⁴⁰    Despite the significant implications of Bomber Command’s new manning policy, the Minutes of the Conference indicate that Leckie’s subcommittee had had little hesitation in approving its introduction. Many other major decisions appear to have been taken with a similar lack of argument. This was because most of the business transacted at Ottawa (as at most major conferences) will actually have been conducted during preconference meetings of specialist staffs and informal discussions between the principals. This was certainly the case with the manning of bombers, details of which had been circulated in advance, the British delegation being obliged to seek clarification from the Air Ministry on a number of specific issues prior to the ‘main event’.

⁴¹    AMO A.505/1942 of 21 May.

⁴²    AIR6/73. Minutes of an Air Council Meeting 10(42) held on 2 June 1942.

⁴³    AIR2/8369. The Canadians were informed of the new titles by signal X817732 of 10 July 1942.

⁴⁴    AIR2/8179. The South African government was requested to adopt the UK’s commissioning quota by Air Ministry letter A.82118/40/S.7(e)3 dated 1 November 1940. This letter stated that Canada had already accepted the British proposal and that early agreement was anticipated from Australia and New Zealand.

⁴⁵    The provision and training of air crew for the RAF was not confined to Australia, Canada and New Zealand, but only these three Dominions participated jointly with the UK in the integrated BCATP. Under separate bilateral agreements with the UK, broadly similar programmes were undertaken in Rhodesia and South Africa, but even here there was sufficient flexibility to permit the use of African facilities to train, for instance, some RAAF personnel. (See Chapter 24.)

⁴⁶    See Note 39. It would seem that Col R E Nugent, representing the US War Department’s Personnel Staff, who volunteered this information, may not have had his ear quite as close to the ground as he might have, as USAAF manning policy was about to be changed in quite the opposite sense. Having concluded that enlisted pilots were perceived to lack command authority in too many crucial situations, on 8 July 1942, only a few weeks after the Ottawa Conference, it was decided that virtually all air crew flying in key crew positions, ie pilots, navigators and bombardiers, should be officers. The minimum rank of a pilot thereafter was that of the newly created flight officer (equivalent to warrant officer, junior grade). Few of these flew in combat, however, most of those who did being employed on co-operation duties with the Field Artillery and even here they had become a rarity by mid-1944. Practically all navigators and bombardiers were commissioned, most other air crew continuing to fly as enlisted men.

At this stage (early 1942) the majority of navigators in the US Navy were dual-qualified pilots. Most were commissioned but where a crew included three pilot/navs, as in long-range patrol aircraft, one could be an enlisted man. All naval gunners, radio operators and engineers had noncommissioned status.

⁴⁷    AIR6/63. Figures taken from a Note dated 24 February 1943, dealing with the commissioning of aircrew, submitted to the Air Council as AC15(43) by AMP, Air Mshl Sir Bertine Sutton; it was considered at its Meeting 4(43) held on 3 March.

⁴⁸    Ibid.

⁴⁹    AMO A.746/1942 of 23 July. The specifics relating to the new category of the air bomber had already been promulgated by AMO A.505/1942 of 21 May, those relating to the Navigator and Navigator (W) were provided by AMO A.880/1942 of 20 August.

⁵⁰    A full six months after the new scheme had been introduced the reclassification process was still incomplete, leading to the issue of AMO A.52/1943 of 21 January which urged COs to ensure that all air crew were appropriately categorised.

⁵¹    A case in point was the two-seat light bomber which was supposed to be crewed by a Nav(W). This was appropriate enough for the Mosquito, but not for the Vengeance. The Vengeance was unique in being the only dive-bomber ever to be used by the RAF and unusual in that it was employed operationally only over Burma. Probably for these very reasons, it appears largely to have escaped the attention of the training and personnel staffs in London. While it undoubtedly was a ‘two-seat light bomber’, there was clearly a case for the back-seater in a Vengeance to be a WOp/AG and it required a prolonged exchange of correspondence between Air HQ India and the Air Ministry before a final solution was agreed – see AIR27/864. The establishment of a Vengeance squadron was eventually set at fourteen WOp/AGs and seven Nav(W)s, with Nav(B)s being an acceptable substitute for the latter.

⁵²    AIR29/603. All Aviation Candidate Selection Boards were instructed to adopt the new procedure with immediate effect on the authority of Air Ministry letter A.372400/42/P.7 of 9 August 1942.

⁵³    AMO A.1019/1942 of 17 September. The introduction of the ‘N’, ‘B’ and ‘E’ badges had been sanctioned by King’s Order 480 which had been approved by HM King George VI as early as 27 July 1942 (AIR30/274).

⁵⁴    AMO A.402/1939 of 28 September.

⁵⁵    AIR 2/8369. This question was raised by DDTArm in a memo of 25 July 1942, the answer being contained in Air Ministry signal PX6112 of 29 July.

⁵⁶    Ibid. The correspondence on this topic, six signals released between 10 and 18 June 1942, is contained on this file.

⁵⁷    KR 198 as amended in October 1944.

⁵⁸    AMO A.512/1944 of 8 June.

⁵⁹    At the time of writing, QR 206(3) of the latest (fifth) edition of Queens Regulations, still provides specific authority for any veterans who qualified for a flying ‘O’ before September 1939 or, remarkably enough, ‘under regulations in force from time to time in the Royal Flying Corps or Royal Naval Air Service’ to continue to wear it.

⁶⁰    Wartime photographs of individuals wearing observers badges long after they had been superseded are commonplace. For instance, opposite page 152 of A Maitland’s Through the Bombsight, there is a photograph of eight (seven RAF and one RAAF) air bombers of No 7 Sqn taken in April 1945. All of the RAF men, including Maitland, are wearing flying ‘O’s. By his own account, Maitland was not awarded his air crew badge until October 1942, a month after the flying ‘O’ had been officially declared redundant. It is quite possible that, purely as an interim measure, he may actually have been presented with an ‘O’ on graduation, but this should have been replaced as soon as stocks of ‘B’s became available. Whether the other personalities in the photograph had ever been entitled to their ‘O’s has not been established. Even if they had, however, there can be no doubt that none of them should have been wearing a flying ‘O’ while serving on a squadron in 1945. But these miscreants were not alone.

⁶¹    In an unpublished account of the post-war RAF experiences of Sqn Ldr S A Booker, seen by this writer, he tells of attending a navigation refresher course in 1957 ‘in the midst of a vibrant new generation of jet age trainees who looked in awe at our obsolete (and forbidden) proud Observers brevets and wartime medals.’ As his use of the plural ‘our’ suggests, Booker’s deliberate transgression was far from being an isolated instance. Another self-confessed offender was John Hart who, having qualified as a sergeant observer in September 1941, retired as a group captain in 1973. In a letter to the author he states: ‘In all these years I wore the ‘O’ brevet, in spite of being ordered to adopt the ‘N’ as a nav instructor at Middleton St George/Thorney Island.’

Incidentally, a reluctance to give up an established emblem is not confined to aviators. The creation of the Security Branch in 1976 required that senior officers of the RAF Regiment would have to remove their distinctive shoulder flashes. Most simply declined to do so and in 1978 the order was rescinded.

⁶²    AIR2/8348. Minute 83 on this file dated 26 September 1941 from TMech, Wg Cdr R Costa.

⁶³    AMO A.262/1942 of 19 March.

⁶⁴    For a more detailed account of the confusion surrounding the introduction of an appropriate badge for flight engineers (and much else concerning the evolution of the flight engineer), see Stringman, D C; The History of the Air Engineer (RAF Finningley, 1984), pp39-43.

⁶⁵    For a brief summary of the evolution of non-pilot badges in the RCAF (and other Commonwealth air forces), see Annex K.

⁶⁶    Stringman, op cit, p43.

⁶⁷    Frank Bryant, There’s Always Bloody Something! (1991), pp19-20.

⁶⁸    AIR2/2662. Note of a Meeting held in the Air Council Room on Sunday, 29 March 1942, under the chairmanship of CAS, Air Chf Mshl Sir Charles Portal, to discuss the composition and training of air crews in medium and heavy bombers.

⁶⁹    AIR2/5837. Air Mshl Babington’s letter of 30 March 1942 and the various responses it attracted are all on this file.

⁷⁰    AIR6/73. Minutes of Air Council Meeting 8(42) held on 28 April 1942.

⁷¹    AIR2/5837. Air Mshl Babington’s letter of 28 April 1942 and the various responses it attracted are all on this file.

⁷²    AIR6/73. Minutes of Air Council Meeting 10(42) held on 2 June 1942.