From our rowing boat on Connaught Waters, Epping Forest, my sister and I merely glanced up as another of Hitler’s first generation Vergeltungswaffen, his retaliation or ‘revenge’ weapons, the V1 flying bomb, ‘Doodlebug’ or ‘buzz-bomb’, passed overhead with that ominous, pulsating sound. It was August 1944, and in the previous two months this had become such a familiar sight and sound that it barely deserved comment, except that this one seemed to be heading directly across the Lea Valley to our home when the engine stopped and an eerie silence preceded the inevitable, shattering explosion. There being no telephones immediately available in those days, we hoped for the best, determined to use every minute of the one hour on the water, bought for a precious two shillings (10p). In fact, the tiny, pilotless aircraft did end its days, and those of its victims, in our hometown of Cheshunt, happily missing our house, as would many more in the six months to come. Many of us, particularly those who lived in ‘Doodlebug Alley’ did become a little blasé with the seemingly endless succession of V1s, unaffected by darkness or bad weather, only diving for the nearest cover, perhaps under a bed or kitchen table, if the engine stopped. For those who were on the receiving end, it was different matter, often a horrific, life changing experience – or worse.
There was no such escape from the second Vergeltungswaffe, the V2 stratospheric rocket. Once launched from its site on the continent, again more than 100 miles from London, it became all but invisible to the human eye and gave no warning before impact and penetration, the characteristic double boom following split seconds after ending its supersonic, vertical dive. Short of living fulltime in deep, concrete bunkers, survival from the V2s was a matter of luck, and stoic Londoners became quite fatalistic over their chances.
Luckily, I managed to dodge all the V1s and V2s which landed around me, and I was too young then to appreciate the massive leap forward in the science and engineering the Vergeltungwaffen represented. It was only later, when aeronautics became my profession, that I began to take a real interest in their evolution, gestation and employment, together with the politico-military intrigue which dogged their development, but also the Allies’ defences against them. Many erudite texts have dealt with this epic story, some limited to specific aspects, perhaps leaving the reader without the benefit of the necessary background, while others have attempted to cover the whole history, from start to finish, with the danger that the reader might become mired in detail. I have attempted to tell the full story in a relatively short work, of necessity forfeiting some detail in favour of the salient points and particular areas which I hope will be of interest to a lay readership.