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Reg Boys [third from left] and colleagues prepare for a mission


Bomber Command
Of 32 VCs awarded to the RAF in WWII, 10 went to Lancaster crew members

125,000 aircrew served in Bomber Command
47,000 were killed in action
9800 were taken POW
3486 Australians KIA
724 Australians killed in training

Bomber Boys

Bomber Command absorbed just 2 per cent of Australia's young men committed to fight in World War II but accounted for 20 per cent of her total loss of life in the conflict - 3486 killed in action. Flt-Lt Reg Boys DFC was among those who survived to tell his tale.

WORDS BRIAN HARTIGAN PHOTOS SUPPLIED BY REG BOYS

RAAF's No 467 Sqn, with a full-strength compliment of about 140 aircrew, recorded almost 800 casualties in just 28 months - replacement and reinforcement barely able to keep ahead of the statistics. Of the 590 men killed in action in this one squadron alone, five were commanding officers.

Confident in the strength of his European defences early in the war, Herman Goering assured his Commander-in-Chief, Adolf Hitler, "No enemy plane will fly over the Reich territory". In defiance of this boast and with a statistical average life expectancy of just 13 sorties, Sydney-sider and navigator Reg Boys flew a remarkable 40 operational sorties over enemy territory - 11 of them over the very heart of the Reich - Berlin.

After completing his training in Australia, Canada and England, Reg Boys was posted to RAAF's No 467 Sqn as a navigator on Lancaster heavy bombers in June 1943. Over the course of the next eight months, Reg flew three more than his required 30 operational sorties before transferring as an instructor to 27 Operational Training Unit.

A little more than a year later he was back with 467 Sqn and completed a further seven raids over Reich territory before peace was declared.

Reg's flying career started on home soil with basic pilot training in Victoria and New South Wales on Tiger Moth aircraft. Recategorised as a navigator, he was shipped off to Winnipeg, Canada where he was among the first intake of navigators from across the Commonwealth to be trained in that country - on Anson aircraft.

Reg Boys [third from left, front row] and his graduating class, Canada, 1943
Reg Boys DFC reflects on a distinguished flying history
Still on Ansons, further training followed in England and Wales before he was eventually invited to join a team.

"A bloke by the name of 'Buck' Jones said he liked my training record and wanted me to help him form a crew," Reg says.

From these beginnings, a tight-knit crew was drawn together and began the next phase of training on the bigger, faster Wellington bomber.

Remarkably, it was during this phase of his long flying career that Reg had his most serious flying mishap and, as these things go, it was rigorous training that probably saved his life.

"One thing we trained hard at as a crew - in our own time - was abandoning the aircraft. We figured that if we practiced often enough, the training would kick in and you would do the drill automatically even if you were concussed or something.

"Well, wouldn't you know it, one day on a training mission, a prop fell off our Wellington at about 1000ft - and those things were lucky to fly with two good engines. So we had to bail out quick smart."

The experience brought the men much closer together. So much so in fact, that the crew evolved into a dynamic, democratic small team.

"There was no such thing as a captain in our aircraft, except for takeoff and landing - or if we ever had to abandon again.

"There was no speaking on our plane either, unless it was necessary for the mission. We always kept the airways clear in case of emergency.

"It was a good piece of training that helped keep a professional, one-unit kind of atmosphere that was very important to us."

Heading into the final stages of training - conversion to heavy bombers - brought the first real opportunity to talk to men who had already flown on operations. And, in fact, one of these experienced men passed on that one small piece of advice that Reg credits with his survival through the next three years of war.

Encouraged by this instructor, Reg and his crew developed a method of operation that required an extra level of attention to navigation.

During their transit flight from takeoff to an attack initiation point, heavy bombers were vulnerable to predatorial German fighters. They were also virtually free to travel as they pleased to the predetermined form-up point over the Continent before advancing on their target. Yet most crews flew the big bombers "by the book" - straight and level.

"I was always a bit concerned about the notion of bombers flying along straight and level in large groups. It seemed to me they were making good targets of themselves.

"In fact, the Germans even had some fighters configured with their guns pointing up at an angle so they could just cruise around under the bombers and hose their bellies."

“That’s me [left] and Wing Commander Ian Hay with the only Aussie POW we flew out of Germany on 7 May 1945” – Reg Boys
So, Reg's crew broke from the norm and followed their own zig-zag route to an attack initiation point, tacking like a ship at sea, which apart from making their route less predictable, also offered the gunners a valuable opportunity to sweep their blind spots during each turn.

Despite the success of this tactic, Reg was a little reticent to pass on his technique however.

"It's not that you wanted to keep it from your mates - but you didn't want the powers that be hearing about it either. There was always the fear that you'd be ordered to conform.

"At the end of the day, though, no matter what they told you, once you were in the air you did your own thing anyway."

A typical operational day for a bomber crew could last up to 15 hours from the time they reported for briefings until they brought their aircraft home.

A bombing raid over Reich territory was an awesome thing. As many as 1000 heavy bombers taking off in waves, five minutes apart, from numerous bases across southern England, each carrying an almost seven-tonne bomb load.

For the individual crews, the Lancaster was not the most comfortable mode of transport. Although the cabin had some heating, icy drafts from many orifices and joints blew through the fuselage, which itself was a single thin skin of aluminium holding out freezing temperatures - and frostbite was not uncommon. Crew discomfort was added to as low air pressure and a sustaining pre-flight meal combined to produce internal winds of a more personal nature.

Reg Boys and his fellow navigators were responsible for getting the bomber to the target area, after which it was the bomb aimer's job to drop the payload onto the actual target. Factoring in a myriad variations, and when completely satisfied of hitting the target, the bomb aimer pushed his release button. Rather than drop all at once, however, pre-programmed machinations in the bomb bay saw the various bomb types fall to earth at intervals designed to see them reach the ground at the optimum spacing for maximum effect.

Getting to or away from the target area was not easy - the crews gambling their lives on each occasion. Reg says the flack was so thick some times he often imagined they could land on it. But, thankfully, they always seemed to be able to fly above it.

Reg Boys [left] and W. Wilkinson [later killed in action] sit atop a 4000lb Block Buster bomb

Lancaster bombers were…

First to fly pathfinder missions – Aug 1942
First to carry 8000lb bombs – Apr 1943
First to carry a 12,000lb bomb – Sept 1943
First to carry 12,000lb deep penetration bomb – Jun 1944
First to carry 22,000lb Grand Slam bomb – Mar 1945

Of 7374 Lancasters built, 3400 were lost on operations plus another 200 destroyed in crashes

Weight
Empty 37,000lbs (16.8tonne)
Loaded 65,000lbs (29.5tonne)

Performance (loaded)
Speed 275mph
Cruise 200mph
Range 2530 miles
(with 7000lb load)
1660 miles
(with 14,000lb load)

Fuel (100 Octane) 2154 gallons

Armaments 8 x .303 Browning machineguns

 

Reg Boys [seated on bonnet] talks to former POWs before flying them home to England onboard S Sugar


S

for Sugar - Lancaster Serial Number R5868
Flew 137 operational sorties
Wing span 102ft
Length 69ft 6in
Height 20ft 6in

Engines
4 x rolls Royce Merlin MkXX - Later replaced by Merlin Mk 22
1480 horse power each

 

A sample of Reg Boys’ meticulous record of operations over Reich territory, including two flights aboard S for Sugar
Barely a mission went by that someone didn't come home, however, and, oddly, according to Reg, it was the people on the ground who seemed to feel the loss most.

The ladies in the kitchens seemed hardest hit. It was their duty to feed the men before and after a mission.

Each aviator was rationed in for one egg after his flight and to keep tabs on how many eggs to cook, the kitchens were tuned in to the control-tower radios. So it was that the cooks heard first-hand whom of the men they had fed just hours earlier would miss out on the one little luxury afforded them despite the general rationing across the country.

The truck drivers who ferried crews to and from the flight line and the mechanics who looked after their aircraft also felt the loss.

Ground crew were assigned to individual airplanes and were as much a part of the aircraft's extended family as the men who flew it.

Reg and his crew were presumed lost one night when they had fuel problems and had to land at another airfield overnight and had missed a meal.

"When we got back to base the next day, there was this amazing feeling among the dozens of people who came out to greet us - there was almost a family relationship between everyone."

The closest Reg recounted coming to actual grief was on one mission when, shortly after departure, the cabin began to fill with smoke. As with most aircraft immediately after takeoff, the plane was far too heavy to attempt a safe landing. Setting a course for The Wash - an area of sea off the English east coast - to dump their bombs, Reg then assisted all available crew to search for the source of the smoke.

Unsuccessful in finding any fire, the captain decided to press on for Dusseldorf - this night's target.

In the confusion, Reg had not followed his charts and it took some time to get his bearings in the blackness of the night. No sooner had he satisfied himself of where exactly they were than the aircraft was locked in the converging beams of several searchlights - an occurrence as dangerous as it was unnerving.

"Corkscrew starboard," a gunner called out. The pilot immediately threw the sturdy Lancaster into an evasion manoeuvre the crew had discussed and practiced many times. Inputting full aileron control to turn the wings vertical, then kicking in full bottom rudder, the heavily laden bomber entered a vertical dive before pulling out in a corkscrew turn at the bottom - successfully shaking the attention of the lights.

The Lancaster was a pretty big airplane to throw around the sky like that, but Reg says she could handle it.

"The pilot would never pull a stunt like that without asking first or without the call from the gunners or someone else, however.

"That's how much of a crew we were - a unit."

On another occasion, Reg remembers the confidence of his training kicking in to again possibly save his comrades.

Europe and England was pretty dark at night because of the blackouts. Navigation was assisted by pathfinder bombers who dropped marker flares at mission-designated points to give navigators a fix.

"One night, coming home from Berlin, I had no sooner said, "We should be seeing the markers any minute now" than the pilot spotted it way off to our left."

"Should we fly to it?" the pilot asked.

"No, let me make a check - no, I'm sure the PFF [pathfinder flight] have made a blue - they've dropped the markers north-west of the wrong town."

"Are you sure?" the anxious pilot demanded.

"Just keep an eye out to port. If I'm right, those other guys will cop the flack over the islands in about four minutes.

"And sure enough, just on four minutes later, the sky off to our left lit up with a barrage of flack."

Rather than bask in his own sureness, however, Reg joined in a silent vigil as the crew rode, mentally, through the barrage with their unseen colleagues.

Reg says a quiet prayer never went astray.

"I figured there must be someone out there looking out for us and I was never afraid to say a quiet prayer before takeoff.

"But I was never one for leaving things to luck.

"Some guys seemed to live in the moment, but I always had a mind to the next night and the night after that.

"I remember one crew that was having a hell of a party one night and the next night they went missing. Now, whether the two were connected or not you couldn't tell - or were they just unlucky.

"I didn't like to leave anything to luck, and that was the way our crew always worked, and we survived to tell about it."

But lady luck can deal her cards against you despite well-intentioned planning.

"One night we swung on the runway - twice - with a full load of bombs on board.

"S Sugar had lost half a wing on a mission and this was her first flight back after repairs and her controls were a little out of balance.

"It was a hairy experience, but we eventually got her off the ground, got the job done and got her home again."

S for Sugar, in which Reg logged 14 flights, is one of England's most respected and loved bombers (like our own G for George), today lovingly restored and on display at the RAF Museum, Hendon.

Lancaster bomber serial number R5868 was built in 1942 and commenced service with RAF's No 83 Sqn. Known then as Q for Queenie, she completed a not-insignificant 68 operations.

No 467 Sqn, Royal Australian Air Force, was raised at Scampton, Lincolnshire, on 7 November 1942, moving a month later to Bottesford, Leicestershire - and commenced operations in January '43. Q for Queenie was allocated to B flight of the squadron and renamed S for Sugar.

She went on to war's end, finally clocking up a remarkable 137 operational sorties before No 467 Sqn was disbanded in September 1945.

“By Jove, home at last” – crews customising their aircraft for Operation Exodus
On 7 May 1945, Reg Boys, navigating for squadron OC Wing Commander Ian Hay, flew on Sugar's final mission - a "cook's tour" of German cities to observe the effects of bombing raids and to assess the suitability of certain airfields to accept heavy aircraft.

"We nearly didn't take Sugar on that flight," Reg says, "She was down for repairs. But I said to the OC the day before that if he told the maintenance boys where we were taking her, they would see she was ready.

"And sure enough, I think they worked through the night to send her on her last sortie" - Right into the heart of the Reich territory.


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