Lancaster

It’s eighty years since the start of World War 2 and over seventy-four since it ended. Despite the conflict receding ever further into the past, interest in it remains high even amongst people a generation or two removed from those who lived through it. It is of course important that we do not forget, if only to ensure such horrors do not happen again, but the war nostalgia is something above and beyond remembrance. Being an avgeek I’m drawn towards the stories of aerial warfare over that on land or sea. Amongst the numerous different type of aircraft that were produced, a handful stand out for whatever reason. In Britain, the Supermarine Spitfire was the outstanding fighter aircraft of the war and will be forever remembered as the aircraft that won the Battle of Britain, though its stablemate the Hawker Hurricane takes much of the credit too. Later on in the war it was the turn of the bombers. In January 1941 a new type took to the air for the first time, the Avro Lancaster. With its four Rolls Royce Merlin engines, it was a similar shape and size to the Handley Page Halifax that had entered service the previous year. In March 1942 the Lancaster entered operational service, proving itself to be more capable than the Halifax and soon became the favourite weapon of RAF Bomber Command. 7377 examples were built, half of which were destroyed during the war. Its job was simple: flatten German’s industrial cities, a task it tended to tackle at night time. With help from the American USAAF whose B17s favoured daytime raids, Germany was indeed flattened, if not into submission then to a severely weakened state, allowing allied ground forces to eventually claim victory in Europe. The cost of the bombing campaign was, however, horrendous. Over 125,000 men served with Bomber Command throughout the war. 55,573 of them paid with their lives, more than 44%. Let’s also not forget the fatalities in the towns and cities they bombed which ran into the hundreds of thousands.

Just seventeen intact Lancasters remain, only four of which flew operational sorties during the war. Of those seventeen, just two are preserved in flying condition. One, serial number FM213, belongs to the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum of Hamilton, Ontario. The other, PA474, is part of the RAF’s Battle of Britain Memorial Flight based at RAF Conningsby in Lincolnshire. In 2014 the Canadian Lancaster, affectionally known as Vera, spent the summer in the UK and we were treated to the sight of two Lancasters flying in formation for the first time in many, many years.

Two others are being restored to airworthy standard. One of those, FM104, I saw in Victoria, Canada earlier this year. It is planned to restore it to post-war Maritime Command configuration. It is currently in bits and there is a long way to go before it graces the skies once more. The other is NX611. This airframe is based at the Lincolnshire Aviation Heritage Centre at East Kirkby in Lincolnshire, just an RAF Typhoon’s jet blast away from the BBMF’s PA474 at Conningsby. Although it looks essentially complete, it is only three years into a ten year project that aims to get her airborne once more. In the meantime though, she can fire up her four Merlin engines and taxy round the airfield. Restoration is expensive. Funds are raised by various means. One of those is by selling Lancaster VIP Days to an eager population of avgeeks, those with an interest in military matters and, in some cases, veterans who flew on the aircraft when it was in active service. I retired just under a year ago. My retirement present from my wife was one such VIP Day. Last week the day finally dawned and we made our way to East Kirkby. The day consisted of a briefing, tea, coffee and cake, a hearty lunch and the chance to look round the museum. The main event was, of course, the chance to discover first hand this legendary aircraft and sense just some of the sounds, sights and smells that the Bomber Command aircrews will have experienced. It was an absolute privilege to be able to do so.

Here’s a brief history of NX611: built by Austin Motors, Birmingham in April 1945, she was intended to be part of the RAF’s Tiger Force in the Far East. The surrender of Japan meant that she, along with around 150 others, were not required and she was placed in storage. In 1952 she was one of seventeen examples sold to the French government where she was allocated to the French Naval Air Arm. She served as a maritime patrol aircraft, ultimately ending her service career in Noumeau on the Pacific island of New Caledonia. In 1964 she flew to Sydney and presented to the Historical Aircraft Preservation Society and in 1965 made the 12,000 mile, nine day journey back to Britain. In 1972 she was sold to a private owner who lent her to the RAF to act as gate guardian at Scampton for ten years. During that time she was acquired by Fred and Harold Panton, owners of a farm which included part of East Kirkby airfield. Christopher, the elder brother of Fred and Harold had been killed in an RAF Halifax bomber during the raid on Nuremberg in 1944 and the brothers wanted to commemorate him, and the other members of RAF Bomber Command in some way. Hence, the Lincolnshire Aviation Heritage Centre was born and the long task of restoring NX 611 begun when the aircraft was delivered to East Kirkby in 1987. In 1993 the first of its four Merlin engines was fired up and it has been wowing visitors to the centre ever since. Adorned with squadron markings DX on one side and LE on the other, 57 and 630 squadrons respectively, the aircraft now serves as a tribute to the two Lancaster squadrons based at East Kirkby during the war. The suffix letters F and H are a tribute to the museum founders, Fred and Harold Panton and the nose art is a reproduction of a wartime cartoon character from the Daily Mirror, Just Jane. NX611 is now known affectionately as Just Jane. A more detailed biography of Just Jane, along with some fine artwork, can be found here: https://www.silksheenphotography.co.uk/resident-aircraft/lancaster-just-jane-gallery-history/click-here-for-a-look-at-nx611-s-markings-1945-2014/

Those who were booked onto the taxy runs were split into two groups. I was in the second group which meant an afternoon run. This allowed me to observe the first run from the outside which served to increase the anticipation. At the appointed time the ten of us on the afternoon run congregated by the aircraft. There, a draw took place for the positions we would occupy during the taxy run. They are as follows: one Bomb Aimer in the nose, two stood behind the pilot and engineer in the cockpit, two seated by the small windows behind the cockpit at the radio operator’s station, three stood in the centre turret, one sat by the open door towards the rear and one Tail End Charlie in the rear turret. There is also the seat of the radar operator should you fancy a ride without an external view. None of the positions are considered to be the better than the others but I was more than happy with my allocation – stood in the cockpit behind the pilot. With multiple warnings to mind our heads we boarded the aircraft. The Lancaster is not a large aircraft by today’s standards but it stood next to it on the ground it seems plenty big enough. Inside, however, it is a tight, compact somewhat claustrophobic space. We got the tour of the front of the aircraft first. Fitting us in was no mean feat. Not only do you have to guard against banging against the metal ribs of the fuselage, the main wing spar passes through it just aft of the cockpit and clambering over it is by no means easy. The bomb aimer’s station in the nose is not easy to enter without bashing some part of your anatomy but once there it is relatively spacious and probably the most comfortable operational position on the aircraft. The cockpit, normally home to pilot, engineer and navigator, is a crowded place. With just the pilot, engineer and two passengers stood behind them it was positively overflowing. That being said, what a delight it was to be there. The navigator’s station is in the back of the cockpit and we were given dire warnings of court marshal should anyone plonk their backside on the fragile navigator’s table. Just behind the cockpit was the radio operator’s station, shoehorned in front of the spar. We did the tour of the rear of the aircraft after the taxy run. The mid turret was just about big enough to hold the three passengers and perhaps the most spacious seat was by the open door. The rear turret took no small amount of contortion to enter and was a bit of a squeeze when you did.

But what about the taxy run? Being in the cockpit gave me the advantage of observing the full start up procedure. It was not simply a case of flicking a switch and involved a substantial amount of teamwork between pilot, engineer and ground crew. Engines three and four, on the port wing, were started first. That was impressive enough. However, when numbers two and one, just to my left on the other side of some thin plexiglass, the sight of flames coming from the exhaust stacks and the loud, throaty rumble of the Merlins was just magnificent. With the pilot and ground crew exchanging signals the brakes were released and we started to move. Just a couple of feet as it happened, the pilot testing the brakes immediately, but soon we were off again heading slowly to the grass whilst an appreciative crowd watched as I had done earlier in the day. Once on the grass we taxied around to simulate what it must have been like at the commencement of another mission. I tried hard to imagine what would have been going through the minds of the airmen on board but unfortunately the avgeek in meant I spent the time just watching the dials in the cockpit, those marvellous Merlins doing their stuff, feeling damn well happy that I was there whilst saving just a little bit of concentration on not falling over as we bounced up and down on the grass. Eventually we lined up with what counts as a runway at East Kirkby and the pilot opened the throttles to 2000 rpm. Once the engines were stabilised he released the breaks and we were off to bomb the Rhur. For a few seconds anyway. A real mission would have required 3000 rpm, a lot more runway and a certificate of airworthiness. With the throttles cut we taxied back to the concrete where the pilot did another 2000 rpm engine run for the benefit of the spectators, not that any of the passengers were complaining. That completed, we were marshalled to our parking position and the Merlins fell silent for the day.

Elaine had got herself a guest ticket which meant she got a tour of Just Jane too and whilst she was being shown around I had a chance to reflect on what had taken place. Just Jane has been restored as a memorial to those brave men of Bomber Command who flew in the Lancaster and other bombers over Germany and the occupied nations during the war. It was essential, therefore, to try and imagine what it was like for them. I found that hard to do during the taxy run as I was simply in awe of the aircraft and yes, I should have maybe put the phone back in my pocket for a while as how many photos and videos do you actually need? Quite a few to be honest. Armed with the knowledge gained through the experience I have since tried to imagine what it may have been like. A fine aircraft though the Lancaster definitely is, it is not a comfortable place to spend eight hours at 24,000ft. Not only is it dark, cramped, full of head banging potential and rather squalid, it would have been freezing cold. Once you have ensconced yourself in whatever station you are trained for, you are pretty much stuck there for the entire mission with just the occasional trip to the Elsan toilet to prevent your muscles seizing up. It was wartime though. Comfort could wait until Nazi Germany was defeated. What set these men apart was how they dealt with the fear. Almost half of them would die in their attempt to liberate Europe. They must have known that their lives were subject to a toss of a coin. It wasn’t just death, it was the way they could die that must have played on their minds. Trapped in burning aircraft, spiralling down to earth knowing that your life is at an end. How do you live knowing that it could be you? Yet when the call came they strapped themselves into the aircraft and headed off into the unknown. What brought it home to me most was when I got the chance to sit in the tail turret. Over one third of Bomber Command’s fatalities were Tail End Charlies. The loneliest station on the aircraft and the least spacious, you spend eight freezing cold hours as a sitting duck, praying that the night time blanket of darkness will prevent the Luftwaffe from finding your Lancaster. An Me109 is twice as fast as a Lanc, infinitely more manoeuvrable and can fly much higher. If it finds you it is likely it will attack from behind. You have a machine gun and a limited amount of ammunition. It is no match for a German fighter. If the Lanc somehow makes it back to base it is more than likely your ground crew will have to remove you from the rear turret with a hose pipe. This you will know as you will have seen it before. All those who volunteered as flight crew in Bomber Command were heroes but none were braver than the Tail End Charlies.

Do I now know what it was like to be part of a bombing raid over Germany in 1944? No, a ride round an airfield can never replicate that. What I gained from the VIP Day, however, is something of an insight to what sort of environment the brave men of Bomber Command worked in. It certainly wasn’t a comfortable one. I can only imagine the fear they felt when they strapped themselves in to their Lancaster and headed eastwards into the black abyss and the relief at sighting Lincoln Cathedral on their way back to base, only to do it again and again and…

I can heartily recommend the Lancaster VIP Day and am particularly indebted to Elaine for organising it. They are not cheap but it is good to know that the money they make out of it is ploughed back in to the restoration of Just Jane back to flying condition. Whilst Just Jane remains firmly earthbound at the moment it is possible to book a flight as a fare paying passenger on the Canadian Lancaster. This is very tempting and something I’m considering but I don’t think the experience will better this one. To enable it to carry passengers it the inside has been somewhat sanitised and airline seats have been fitted. The inside of Just Jane is pretty much what it would have been like on an operational Lancaster during the war. Whilst we didn’t get airborne it was a real privilege to experience it as a wartime aircrew would have known it.

For details of the Lancaster Taxy Rides, click this link: https://www.lincsaviation.co.uk/lancaster-taxy-rides/