The Flight Begins
26 September 1944, Midnight to 5 a.m.
Rain, which had been intermittent throughout the previous twenty four hours, intensified as we entered the new day. It was shortly after midnight on Tuesday, September 26th 1944.
Our crew had been briefed for an operational mission, which was to be a night-time anti-submarine patrol off the coast of Norway. We were flying with 407 Squadron, known as the Demon Squadron, one of the few all-Canadian squadrons serving with Coastal Command. We were attached to the R.A.F. and we were based at Wick, which was situated on the east coast of the northern tip of Scotland.
We were in the "Ops" Mess, having the usual eggs and bacon meal be fore an operational flight; with us were three other crews who, too, were to fly that night. We were scheduled to be the first crew for take-off and they in turn were to follow, each to his own patrol area and time schedule. We had finished eating and had gathered around in a group listening to Maurice Neil, our navigator, who was reviewing the meteorological information we had received during our briefing with the navigators from the other crews. He, in jest, suggested that in order not to have to put up with the bad weather of Northern Scotland, he should plot a course to Sweden and we all could relax, forget about the war and enjoy a stay there. We laughed at his proposition but readily agreed that Sweden had to be much better than Northern Scotland. Little did we know then how soon our thoughts would turn to Sweden again.
As we left the "Ops" Mess, we voiced our concern with the blustery weather conditions. We feared that the trip would be cancelled, due to the worsening winds and lowering cloud formations. Just a few days earlier we had been forced to forego an operational trip due to Gord Biddle, our Skip- per, having come down with a very high fever. We did not want to miss two consecutive trips, so we hurried to get on board our assigned plane for the flight. Itwas "S" for Sugar #NB811, a Leigh-light equipped Wellington.
Despite the wild and stormy weather, we were given the green light to take off. With visibility down to about a quarter of a mile and with a 50 knot wind from the west we managed to become airborne at 00:50 hours.
We headed out over the east coast of Scotland and proceeded on to our patrol area.
Notwithstanding the bad weather our patrol continued in a routine manner over the North Sea for about four hours. We were flying at an altitude of approximately 800 feet, our usual patrol height, about thirty miles out from the Norwegian coast on a course roughly parallel to it.
Suddenly, at 04:52 hours, our starboard engine coughed and sputtered but then commenced running smoothly again. Biddle climbed hurriedly to 3000 feet, to continue on with the patrol. A short time later the same engine coughed once and took fire. Biddle throttled back immediately then switched the engine off, closed the fuel cocks and gills and had George Deeth, our second pilot, feather the propeller and switch on the automatic fire extinguisher for that engine.
26 September 1944, Midnight to 5 a.m.
Rain, which had been intermittent throughout the previous twenty four hours, intensified as we entered the new day. It was shortly after midnight on Tuesday, September 26th 1944.
Our crew had been briefed for an operational mission, which was to be a night-time anti-submarine patrol off the coast of Norway. We were flying with 407 Squadron, known as the Demon Squadron, one of the few all-Canadian squadrons serving with Coastal Command. We were attached to the R.A.F. and we were based at Wick, which was situated on the east coast of the northern tip of Scotland.
We were in the "Ops" Mess, having the usual eggs and bacon meal be fore an operational flight; with us were three other crews who, too, were to fly that night. We were scheduled to be the first crew for take-off and they in turn were to follow, each to his own patrol area and time schedule. We had finished eating and had gathered around in a group listening to Maurice Neil, our navigator, who was reviewing the meteorological information we had received during our briefing with the navigators from the other crews. He, in jest, suggested that in order not to have to put up with the bad weather of Northern Scotland, he should plot a course to Sweden and we all could relax, forget about the war and enjoy a stay there. We laughed at his proposition but readily agreed that Sweden had to be much better than Northern Scotland. Little did we know then how soon our thoughts would turn to Sweden again.
As we left the "Ops" Mess, we voiced our concern with the blustery weather conditions. We feared that the trip would be cancelled, due to the worsening winds and lowering cloud formations. Just a few days earlier we had been forced to forego an operational trip due to Gord Biddle, our Skip- per, having come down with a very high fever. We did not want to miss two consecutive trips, so we hurried to get on board our assigned plane for the flight. Itwas "S" for Sugar #NB811, a Leigh-light equipped Wellington.
Despite the wild and stormy weather, we were given the green light to take off. With visibility down to about a quarter of a mile and with a 50 knot wind from the west we managed to become airborne at 00:50 hours.
We headed out over the east coast of Scotland and proceeded on to our patrol area.
Notwithstanding the bad weather our patrol continued in a routine manner over the North Sea for about four hours. We were flying at an altitude of approximately 800 feet, our usual patrol height, about thirty miles out from the Norwegian coast on a course roughly parallel to it.
Suddenly, at 04:52 hours, our starboard engine coughed and sputtered but then commenced running smoothly again. Biddle climbed hurriedly to 3000 feet, to continue on with the patrol. A short time later the same engine coughed once and took fire. Biddle throttled back immediately then switched the engine off, closed the fuel cocks and gills and had George Deeth, our second pilot, feather the propeller and switch on the automatic fire extinguisher for that engine.