..........
Bill "Mac" McRae 132 & 401 Squadron 1941 - 1944 .........
.
.
Bill 1944 --- 401 Squadron Crest --- Bill at Biggin Hill in the winter of 1943
beside the 20mm cannon of Spitfire IX
Bill McRae flew over 240 combat zone sorties in British & Canadian Squadrons being operational for over three years. He flew from the bases in Scotland to the shuttle bases of Takoradi in Africa. His war ended over Normandy flying in air combat and ground support missions every day for 60 days. Like many of his contemporaries he felt a duty to join in the war effort and enlisted on June 13th 1940 just after the fall of France. England stood alone and the Battle of Britain was just about to begin.
work in progress 7/8/2002
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Bill was born in Aberdeen, Scotland on 09/09/1919. His father was Edward Brown McRae, a cabinet maker/carpenter, his mother, Alexina, was
born in Dundee, Scotland, and was a housewife, great cook, excellent knitter.
Bill: "We moved to Port Arthur, Canada (now Thunder Bay) in 1922. 
No. 6 Bill and Model T, circa 1923.
"I went to
Prospect Avenue public school, 6 rooms, and then the Port Arthur
Technical and Commercial High School, where I was enrolled in a
Commercial Matriculation course. I did not participate in organized community sports, but as
a teenager was a very active skier and became a part owner in a ski
hill. 
The five of us who owned Mt. Baldy, our ski hill, bought it for the
value of delinquent taxes, not with any idea of making money but to save
it from falling into the wrong hands. After the war we sold it to the
Port Arthur Ski Club for our cost. Today there is a club house at the
foot of the hill, and a tow, but we had no tow, therefore spent more
time climbing the hill than running down - but it did have us in top
shape! At first we used to spend Saturday night in an old cabin near the
hill. My final year, 1939/40 we stayed in a tent at the bottom of the
hill, with wood sides and floor and a 45-gallon oil drum stove against
the -20 F nights. 
.....
We never had a car, but my Uncle owned a Ford Model T until the
crash of '29. As a teenager I had a friend who owned, first a Ford Model
A and later for a short time a big Buick, in which we did a lot of joy riding. 
Before the RCAF what was the farthest you had been from home?
Bill" About 120 miles - the end of the road! Most people are unaware that, at the outbreak of war, there was still no east-west road link in Canada. We were still struggling to emerge from the depression in the
mid-30s, so, when I graduated from High School I was fortunate to find a
job with CIL (Canadian Industries Limited), as a clerk in the explosives
business. This would develop into a sort of apprenticeship, I was 16 when I started work and I would
continue in this business at the managerial level after the war until
retirement in 1984.
Bill put his apprentice skills to good use. 
at age 18 he was the `powderman' on Baldy; here a stump is
being removed from the downhill. Note how narrow the run was compared to
today's downhill runs.
If there had been no war, what do you think you would have become or
done differently?
Bill" "My work in explosives was very interesting and I probably would have
continued in it, but somehow I think I would have found my way into
flying as well"
What was your first exposure to an aircraft up close, did you get a
ride? what kind of aircraft was it?
Bill: "
Port Arthur is located on the north shore of Lake Superior and when I
was growing up was a base for flying boats (ex U.S.
Navy HS2-Ls & Vickers Vedettes)
doing forest fire patrols. Later, gold discovery north of
Port Arthur brought many floatplanes to the area, mostly Fairchild’s. My
first ride in an aircraft was in the RCAF. There was no airport in Port
Arthur, although there was a field called Bishop's Field, somewhere on
the outskirts of our twin city, Fort William. My first look at a wheel
equipped aircraft was when either a Gypsy Moth, or a Cirrus Moth,
circled our home before crashing a short distance away, out of fuel.
Just prior to the war Canada Car and Foundry opened a factory in Fort
William to manufacture Hawker Hurricanes,
and an airport was built close
to the plant. This later became part of the British Commonwealth Air
Training Plan. While I spent many hours enjoying looking at aircraft I
never dreamed that some day I would be flying one, and landing at this
same spot on Lake Superior (a Norseman, in 1945).
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.......
......
With my British roots, I suppose it was partly patriotism, but I also
saw it as a chance to achieve my dream of being able to fly.
Incidentally, over 300 former students
of Prospect Avenue Elementary School volunteered for the Armed Forces on the outbreak of
war in 1939.
I joined up on June 13, 1940, when I was 20. I probably would have
joined sooner, but they were then taking in only University graduates
or guys who already had a pilot's license. Since they were not yet ready
to receive us, I was not called in until August. I spent my 21st
birthday in Manning Pool, the first entry step.
..
Tiger Moths, #14 Elementary Portage la Prairie, January, 1941
& Jan 13/41 first solo (tall guy instructor Jack Brown/Tiger Moth)...Note the ambulances and the packed snow runway. This had to be rolled flat for use. In some cases the snow piles on either side of the runway was so bad for the Canadians that some aircraft crashed. (See Ben Heffers NZ page)
Course 18. This is the official course photo taken at Camp Borden. I
am 8th from the left in the back row. of the 51, two were killed on
course and 39 graduated. The dropouts would have had to re-muster to
another flying or ground trade. Of the 39, I can account for at least 19
who did not survive the war.
What was the criterion for being selected for pilot training in the
RCAF when you went in?
Bill: "Beats me. As suggested before I think it was a matter of taking a
group and sending them to whichever school was ready for another draft.
There was a study done recently on the
methodology of aircrew selection under the BCATP, and the conclusion
was - there was none. Most of us enlisted asking to be a pilot, little
realizing that the powers that be could put you anywhere they liked. I
believe most of the selection was done depending on which school was
ready to take recruits, otherwise I can't imagine how guys 5' 4" would
end up in Lancaster’s, and some 6' 4" ended up in Spitfires! At our first
real school, Initial Training School, we were all put in a Link Trainer,
with the top open, and asked to simulate turns, climbs and dives. Since
most of us had never had hands on the controls before, this could well
have led to early selection as an air gunner. Fortunately, I had read a
great deal on the subject and knew the basics. At some elementary schools, particularly the early ones, pre-war
flying schools provided the civilian instructors. In my case it was
Winnipeg Flying Club instructors. We also used the phrase wash out. (someone who was dropped from the course) I took 12 hours to solo. I graduated 1st in class #18 at No. 1 Service Flying Training School, Camp Borden.
..
Me in front of North American Yale (BT-9) at Camp Borden in Feb 1941. We flew Yale’s
for a short time before going on to Harvard’s.
Then I got 10 days embarkation leave and went home.
For the Canadians as well as most of the Commonwealth cadets there was no special ceremony or ritual upon graduation or solo like Americans.
Bill: "Apart from a Wings Parade there was no other ceremony. Family may
have been permitted but I don't recall seeing anyway - certainly mine
was not there. Our wings were cloth only and we did wear the Canada shoulder flash.
...
I graduated from SFTS as a Sergeant Pilot April 1, 1941 but was
commissioned to Pilot Officer before leaving for overseas. Since the
commission was back dated to April 1, technically I never was a
sergeant. Nevertheless, I wore the uniform for about three weeks. The
photo shows Joyce (Bills younger sister) modeling the uniform when I was home on embarkation leave. Second photo again on embarkation leave, Port Arthur, April 1941, with Mother.
My best friend during the training period was Bill Wallace, 
who
appears in the Schreiber picture you have already used. We were together
throughout the training period, including Operational Training in
England, and went to 132 Squadron together. We shared a cabin on the sea
crossing. He was killed in a mid-air collision at Peterhead in
September, 1941.
The Tiger Moth trainer and Bill third from the right in the photo taken enroute from elementary to service flying course early
1941. Extreme left is Omer Levesque, Omer Levesque who later, with 401 squadron would
be first to encounter and report the Fw 190 (and draw a very accurate
picture of it). In Korea he would fly Sabers. Bill: "On the group photo I should have mentioned that I am the
one with the camera case in my hand, behind me with his hand on my
shoulder is Bill Wallace, my best friend during training. Only Omer and
I survived the war." This photo was taken on the loading station at Scribner Ontario in 1941 on the way to training at Borden.
***************************************************
Crossing the Atlantic (part of this comes from the CAHS 1998 Article)
In early May 1941 Bill and three of his group are ordered to stand by for transport. Bill and Bill Wallace, Jack Milmine, Wally McLeod are driven to the docks to board a launch that would take them to the 3300 ton Nicoya, a former banana boat that look small for an Atlantic crossing with convoy HX126. HX126 had 31 ships formed up in 9 columns with only two converted liners as escorts. The Nicoya could do almost 14 knots but would have to keep to an average of 7 to stay with the convoy. She had room for 12 passengers and her holds were filled with butter and bacon. England was dependent on America and Canada for foodstuffs and rationing had become a way of life. It was the Germans hope that they could cut the Atlantic lifeline and starve the British into submission. The Nicoya also carried in crates two Hawker Hurricanes built at the Canadian Car & Foundry Company in Fort William.
Bill and his companions were assigned gun stations on the ship to assist the crew. Bill was assigned to a Lewis machine gun that he had no experience in firing and that had no sights. The others were assigned to an antiquated 3 inch gun on the stern. Several days out Bill relates:
I could not shake the feeling of impending disaster and my concern was not helped by the streams of flotsam and jetsam that began to pass almost hourly. Planks, boxes, life belts and empts life boats forming a highway of wreckage across the ocean from the previous convoys that had passed.
NOTES ON THE BATTLE OF THE ATLANTIC
Taken from Von Mullenheim-Rechberg's book `Battleship Bismarck'.
This illustrates how vulnerable my convoy was to the probable track of
the Bismarck
The Battle of the Atlantic is at its height. For the German U-boat arm this is referred to as the Happy Time. Bills convoy sails not only into the teeth the wolf packs but almost across the path of the surface battleship raiders Bismarck and Prinz Eugen - It was due to the fact that the U-boats had already expended their torpedoes on Bills convoy that U-556 found herself in a near perfect position to attack HMS Ark Royal and Renown, which had no destroyer escort and was not zigzagging. Unluckily for her captain Herbert "Parisfal" Wohlfarth he had used all his torpedoes on the convoy HX126. All he could do was watch them sail by, with the fateful Swordfish lined up on Ark Royals deck. These same Swordfish 
torpedoed the Bismarck, slowing her enough for the Royal Navy to catch and sink her.
Around midnight on the 19th Bill and Wallace were sitting in their bunks when they heard a dull thud and the ship heeled sharply to the left out of its column. A steward summoned them on deck to the ward room where they were informed that the ship just in front of them had been torpedoed and had sunk almost immediately. The Nicoya had tried to avoid the wreckage. The next morning the attacks began again and the U-556 sank & damages three more ships. As the convoy started to scatter the bow of a submarine broke the surface 50 yards off the ship and as the gun crews tried to depress the 3 inch gun to fire at it the sub submerged again. Oddly enough the captain told the men to hold their fire.
They then heard a thump and thought they had been torpedoed as well. The captain blew the abandon ship whistle and let off all the steam in case the boilers exploded. He told Bill and the other passengers to stand by the life boats. The chief engineer went below but could find no damage. It took an hour to get back enough steam pressure to move the ship all the while watching the ships burning around them. In the confusion Bill dropped his log book but recovered it. It still contains a salt water stain to this day. The Nicoya due to her greater speed caught up with the remains of the convoy a few days later, she was the only survivor of her column. As the convoy sailed on it crossed paths with the British Home fleet in pursuit of the Bismarck. After 21 days at sea the Nicoya arrives in Liverpool and anchors in the river Mersey to wait out a Luftwaffe air attack. He and his 4 friends landed the next morning after watching the attack from the deck of the ship. Of the four men only Bill would survive to return home. 
Total U-boat strength is now over 100 with 30 operational and the rest undergoing training or trials. Most are active in the North Atlantic., but a small number are concentrated against the weakly-defended shipping off Freetown, Sierra Leone and between there and the Canary Islands to the north. In this area "U-107" (Lt-Cdr Hessler) sinks 14 ships of 87,000 tons on one patrol. Other U-boats do almost as well. (From the naval history net)
Royal Navy escort groups can provide cover from UK bases out to 18'W, and those from Iceland the mid-Atlantic gap to 35'W. With the opening of an Escort Force base at St John's, Newfoundland by the Royal Canadian Navy, the rest of the North Atlantic convoy routes can now receive protection. However, continuous escort across the Atlantic is not yet available. Then, around the 20th, unescorted convoy HX126 from Halifax, Nova Scotia is attacked at 40'W and loses heavily. Steps are immediately taken to extend protection and HX129 sailing at the end of the month is the first of the UK-bound convoys to receive regular and continuous cover. HX-126 May 1941 was attacked by Westgruppe (10 U-boats) -that sank 9 ships of 54,451 tons. It had been the largest wolf pack up to that time. Had they not been called off to assist the Bismarck the losses may well have been higher. Monthly Loss Summary for just May 1941
- 60 British, Allied and neutral ships of 336,000 tons in the Atlantic from all causes; 1 battle cruiser, 1 destroyer, 1 armed merchant cruiser
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Bills ship, the SS Nicoya was later lost on 05-11-42, sunk by U-553 with the loss of six of her crew. She was the first ship to be
torpedoed in the Gulf of St. Lawrence, to open that area of attack by
the U-boats. At the time she was sailing alone.
A Victory Ship photo (Not the Nicoya) (data from the naval history net)
John Snyder cited Talbot-Booth's Book *Merchant Ships 1942* to provide great
detail about NICOYA and her owner, Elders and Fyffes:
* a 3-island vessel with no derrick posts and masts atop winch houses
* listed at 5,400 gross tons, 3,300 net tons, 6,300 deadweight tons
* 400 feet long, 51 foot beam, 26.9-foot draft
* coal-fired reciprocating steam engine driving a single shaft
* built 1929; rated at 13.5 knots; she had accomodations for 12
passengers
* book includes line drawing of NICOYA (no.1590) and a photo of TETELA,
one of her sisters
Elders & Fyffes Ships in World War Two (References mostly Talbot-Booth via
John Snyder)
Fyffes Line vessels had silver gray hulls with red boot topping buff
ventilators with white inside the cowls, buff-yellow funnels with black
tops, and their names were Spanish or South American place names. The line
offered first class passenger, mail, and cargo service between Avonmouth,
Liverpool, Swansea, and the Continent to Jamaica, Central America, Barbados,
Trinidad, Panama and Costa Rica. Elders and Fyffes ships were especially
equipped for handling and transporting fruit cargoes (particularly bananas)
utilizing state of the art refrigeration machinery. Their ships had
played a
crucial role in building up such trade at the turn of the century. On an
average these ships carried about 90,000 stems of bananas on each homeward
trip, in addition to providing most comfortable first-class accomodations
for passengers. A controlling interest in the company was held by the United
Fruit Company of Boston, Massachusetts. Vernon Gibbs (via Alistair Deayton)
adds that Fyffes "Twelves" often called at Southampton rather than the
Bristol Channel en route to Rotterdam or Hamburg for unloading.
Who built Nicoya?:
William Lafferty identified *NICOYA* as one of at least twelve near-sisters
built for Elders & Fyffes, Ltd., between 1925 and 1930. She and four sisters
were built by A. Stephen & Sons, Ltd., Glasgow; while the others by Cammell,
Laird & Co., Ltd., Birkenhead. Talbot-Booth (John Snyder) identified her
builder as Cammell, Laird, but the reference to A. Stephens & Sons is
confirmed by Dave Barron's files, Lloyd's Register 1942 (via John H.
Harland), and the following details provided by Andreas von Mach:
These four sister ships were built for Elders & Fyffes, Ltd by Alexander
Stephen & Sons, Ltd. at Linhowse (all of 3750ihp):
* #510 TUCURINCA 5411 BRT completed Mar 1926
* #513 CHARGES (2nd) 5406 BRT completed Feb 1928
* #523 NICOYA (2nd) 5363 BRT completed Mar 1929
* #538 CORRALES 5362 BRT completed Mar 1930"
You will note that a photo exists of Nicoya's sister ship TETELA, as
well as a line drawing of Nicoya. Our archivists believe `my' Nicoya may
actually be Nicoya 2, listed above, or even a later ship Nicoya 3. Since
color photos were rare prewar, the ship appears to be a single island
type whereas the original Nicoya was three island, and the ship's name
painted on the hull appears to be double, convinces our archivists that
this is not the original Nicoya.
Addendum to the Atlantic voyage: There had
been a rumor that a submarine was escorting us. This seemed so
ludicrous to us that we dismissed it out of hand; what use could a
submarine is against submarines, and how could it keep up with us while
submerged, even at our slow speed? I also mentioned in that early
version that, just at dusk on the two nights we ran alone, the lookout
in the crows net called out, first, `destroyer astern', changing it at
last light to `submarine astern'. We assumed that this was a U-boat,
trailing us on the surface in the hope that we would lead it back to the
convoy, which of course we did.
Now, thanks to the efforts of John Snyder and others in his Marine
Historians Group in Sacramento, California, and the Internet, some of
the mystery has been solved. The Armed Merchant Cruiser that accompanied us was the HMS
Aurania (later named Artifex) . The second escort was in fact a T-class submarine, HMS Tribune;
..........
The Artifex/Aurania and the HMS Tribune during the war.
the `rumor' had for once been correct. This possibly answers a number
of questions. Our Captain, no doubt aware of our submarine escort,
ordered us not to shoot at the partially surfacing sub for fear it was
our own. Also, the submarine spotted by the lookout might well have
been our escort and not a U-boat as we feared. But it does not answer
the logical question, what use could a submarine be in defending a
convoy against submarines?
The records show that at the time we were at sea a westbound convoy had
as part of its escort the battleship HMS Rodney. A battleship escorting
a convoy was not unusual, in fact in 1942 I sailed on HMS Nelson, sister
ship of the Rodney, as part of a large troop convoy as far as Freetown,
West Africa. But it is my guess that in May, 1941, the Admiralty was
aware that the Bismarck was readying to break out, thus the presence of
the Rodney. Having no escorts available for us capable of challenging
the Bismarck or the Prinz Eugen, what better substitute than a
submarine, which could inflict real damage on the German ships should
they encounter our convoy.
***************************************************
Bill is assigned to 57 OTU (Operational Training Unit flying the Miles Master I 
and then cast off Spitfires before being sent to 132 Squadron. Bill "We got plenty of gunnery practice, but after we got our wings
instrument `training' was strictly `on the job training'. Most practice shooting was air-to-air (drogues), and we also did a
lot of skeet shooting. I considered myself a reasonably good shot, once
shot the drogue off the tow cable. We usually helped the armorers in
harmonizing our guns, and I suppose could have done so at non-standard
ranges had we wished. To most graduates of the BCATP, flying in Britain came initially as
something of a shock. In my case I had flown only in winter, in the
clear crisp skies of Manitoba and Ontario, and only from rolled snow,
never from a runway. Towns were spaced twenty or more miles apart,
joined by only one or two straight railway lines and few roads. One in
500,000 maps were simple and uncluttered. Now, suddenly, I found
visibility reduced by about 90% in industrial haze plus coal smoke from
thousands of Liverpool, Manchester and Birmingham chimneys. The one in
250,000 maps, basically road maps with some aviation symbols added, were
crowded with detail, showed towns and villages so close as to be almost
one, with railways radiating out in all directions. To top it all off, I
was now flying at twice the speed with downward visibility from the
aircraft reduced considerably.'........Bill In photo below 2nd standing on the right.
I landed in England on the 31st of May 1941, along with three others
from my course, not knowing what I would be flying until ten days
later later when I reported to No. 57 Operational Training Unit at
Hawarden, North Wales and saw a number of Spitfires on a large grass
airfield. They were all tired old Mk Is, a few still with hand pumped
undercarriages. Scattered around the field were a number of
Wellingtons from the resident Vickers factory.
Having not flown for over two months I was given a quick two circuit
checkout on a Mk I Miles Master, then over the next few days put in two
hours solo on the Master, becoming familiar with the area; and what a
shock it was. I had previously flown only in winter, from rolled snow.
Our 8 miles to the inch map was easy to read, with usually clear skies,
and an uncluttered landscape. Now I had a four miles to the inch map,
with the landscape a profusion of towns and villages, multiple
railways, crooked roads going in all directions, and visibility limited
by industrial smog. But, as one wartime song suggested, "the first
year is the worst year, you'll get used to it", eventually I did. I
should add that the two hours on the Master brought my total solo time
to 70 hours.
We were briefed on the Spitfire's characteristics, which differed
considerably from types previously flown. The 1,000+ hp, liquid cooled,
RR Merlin 2 or 3 required the coolant temperature to be monitored
and controlled by a manually operated radiator shutter. The control
column was pivoted about a foot from the top, and topped with a circular
spade grip. Within the spade grip was a bicycle type brake lever which
controlled pressure to the air brakes, with differential application by
movement of the rudder pedals. Undercarriage control was on the right
side of the cockpit, requiring change of hands soon after take off. .
Air operated flaps were selected by a simple toggle on the instrument
panel, either up or fully down. The tail wheel was non-locking, non-
steerable, fully castoring. This could be a problem in some
situations; more about this later.
Our instructors were mostly fighter pilots on rest. Apart from leading
us on formation exercises, all they did was sit in armchairs on the
grass, critiquing our performance in the circuit. Not once did they
share their experiences or discuss tactics . On June 16 , when my
instructor told me to take Spit B-R and fly it around a bit, I was
probably a bit nervous since the first guy to fly the day before had
killed himself, taking off in coarse pitch, clipping the top of a hangar
and crashing into into a paint storage building. With this in mind I
began my first long zig-zag taxi to the far end of the field. At the
holding point on the grass I did my run up and check, winding on full
right rudder trim. Traffic was controlled by Aldis lamp; having moved
up to the `ready' spot on the grass, I lined up with a hangar on the
far side of the field, the same one the fellow had hit the day
before, and waited for a green, one eye on the rapidly rising coolant
temperature, the other on the tower. On getting the green I released the
brakes, and with the stick right back gradually opened the throttle to
takeoff power, then carefully brought the stick forward to neutral.
(Too far and the prop could hit the ground) Almost immediately the tail
was up to flying attitude, and almost full right rudder was needed to
keep straight. A few seconds later, with some light bouncing on the
grass, it flew itself off. Sitting in that snug cockpit, almost on the
trailing edge, and with that beautiful wing in my field of vision, it
was hard to believe I was really flying it. With the speed building up
I retracted the undercarriage, closed the canopy and climbed to a safe
height over the training area.
After getting a feel for the sensitivity of the controls, I ran through
a series of exercises, including stalls and a spin. Now I thought I
would try a simple loop. Whether I entered too slowly, or misused the
sensitive elevators at the top, or a combination of the two, I don't
know but I managed to stall it, right at the top, upside down. While
dirt from the floor rained down on me all I could think of was `how do I
recover from an inverted spin', which I had never done. But, without
any input from me, the nose dropped straight and I was soon in
business again. This shook me a bit, but at the same time it did more
than anything else to give me confidence in the machine. Having been out
almost an hour I headed back to the field and landed. I was probably
still on cloud nine because I can't remember anything about that first
Spitfire landing; I probably came in too straight and too fast and
floated halfway across the field, but my usually critical instructor
made no comment when I taxied back so it must have looked OK to him.
After having straight-in finals from 500 feet drummed into me at earlier
schools, it took some time getting comfortable with the recommended
Spitfire approach, which was to combine the base and final legs into a
continuously descending curve, to reach a point just off the end of the
runway, at about 30 degrees off line, and ready to begin the round out.
Then line up the left side of the nose with the landing path and round
out to a few feet off the ground. All Spitfires, at least up to the Mk
IX, would float a fair distance, even when brought in at the correct
speed; this made landing easy. The unarmed Hawarden Mk Is were
especially light, making the float even greater. Hold it level as it
floats, and when it starts to sink, begin raising the nose
progressively, until, with the stick back in your lap, it settles down
like a feather, three point, usually. There is no tendency to swing
after landing. ( Although over dramatized) The TV movie `Piece of Cake'
has some great shots illustrating this technique. Once mastered, not
only was it efficient, but it felt good, the runway was always in sight,
and any excess height could be lost by simply slipping the turn.
Reaching OTU did not guarantee becoming a fighter pilot. Any signs of
weakness perceived by the instructors could get you towing drogues for
the rest of the war. It needed a bit of ingenuity on one occasion to
keep out of trouble. For some unrecalled reason I had found it
necessary to abort a landing and go around TWICE, and I knew my
instructor would be livid. I think the greatest fear of most pilots of
the period was that doing something stupid would result in being washed
out. With this in mind during the third downwind leg I was racking my
brains for a plausible excuse. Then I got a devious brain wave.
Riveted to the throttle control lever was a small bracket which, when
the throttle was pulled back to about 1500 revs, depressed a spring
loaded pin, triggering a warning horn if the undercarriage was not
down and locked. Using two hands I was able to bend this bracket just
enough so that, instead of riding over the pin, it would butt against it
and stop further movement of the the throttle. Now, depressing the pin
with one hand I pulled the throttle over it and all the way closed,
this time making sure I got down. Before I could get out of the cockpit,
my instructor was up on the wing , yelling at me `What the hell do you
think you were playing at?' As calmly as I could, I explained how the
throttle had not been closing completely for the first two attempts,
that I had discovered the cause during the third circuit, and how I had
temporarily overcome it. Disbelieving, he said `show me', and I was able
to demonstrate, with results as I have described. Suspecting he had been
had, but unable to question the evidence, he told me to get it fixed. I
can swear I heard him muttering `Bloody colonials' as he stomped off.
He would get his revenge later- Observair story `The Wrekin'.
On July 19, I finished the course with 37 hours on Spits, and was
posted to 132 RAF Squadron, newly forming at Peterhead on the North Sea
coast of Scotland, 30 miles north of Aberdeen. On July 28 I flew with
132 for the first time, and for the first time off a runway. Initially
we were equipped with Mk Is but soon moved up to Mk IIbs and by early
1942 to Vbs. 132 was a `marmalade' squadron, with Canadians, Free
French, Polish and one Czech pilot, as well as a Rhodesian, and of
course a few Limeys, including the Flight Commanders and Squadron
Leader. The squadron would eventually move south and was part of 125
Wing, 83 Group, in 1943. All the Canadians eventually were posted out
and the Free French and Polish pilots became part of their own national
squadrons) For the 10 months I was with 132 it never left Scotland and
not a single gun was fired in anger. The only aircraft we saw with black
crosses was one day in November when a Ju88 popped out of low cloud,
dropped a string of bombs on the camp, killed one pilot on the ground
with machine gun fire, and escaped into cloud without being detected by
radar, leaving us questioning the reliability of our low level radar.
It was guarding against this kind of hit and run attack that had us
frequently scrambled, in pairs during the day and singly at night, to
intercept anything approaching from the east without a functioning IFF,
the early transponder. Everything we intercepted turned out to be
friendlies, all with their IFF off. They were a mixed bag, from
Whitleys to, on one occasion, an early B17 in RAF markings.
Hit and run raids usually took advantage of low cloud cover, ideal for
Jerry but not for us. I have heard it said that Scotland is second only
to the Aleutians for bad flying weather, at least in winter, and the
locals claimed that this was the worst winter in living memory. When the
runways were not snowed in, it was routine to be scrambled into
ceilings as low as 300'. With no navigational radio, we depended on
radar to vector us back down out of cloud , preferably over the sea.
From there we were on our own. None of us had had any previous actual
instrument time, only dual under the hood, and none on Spitfires. We
were ill prepared to quickly become virtual all weather interceptors and
we paid the price. In a very short time at least six pilots were killed,
about 25 percent of the squadron. Two spun in out of cloud; two collided
in cloud; one missed the field and hit the mountains not far to the
west. One, on a night scramble, failed to acknowledge repeated orders
to return to base and was last seen leaving the radar screen in the
direction of Norway, which he had insufficient fuel to reach.
On the lighter side; many RAF fields were designed like an overturned
saucer, probably to improve drainage, so that on landing we always
ended up going downhill. At low speed the Spit's rudder was ineffective
and without a steerable tailwheel differential braking was needed to
steer. Loss of brakes could mean trouble. One night I landed a bit long,
probably overused the brakes to slow down, and they faded. I switched
off and sat helpless as the Spit slowly rolled downhill, veering toward
the side of the runway. First one wheel dropped off into the mud,
swinging the machine around so the second wheel followed. The tail rose
high but dropped back before the prop could hit the ground. I was lucky,
but several others were not. Paul, one of three Free French pilots we
had, lost his brakes one night and ran off the end of the runway. When
we got to him his aircraft was balanced, vertically, with the spinner
and prop imbedded in the mud. Paul was looking down at the ground from
his lofty perch, repeating over and over `SHEET, SHEET' to our great
amusement.
I should have mentioned earlier that one of our regular jobs was convoy
patrols over the North Sea, on days with low cloud cover . On one
occasion I was sent out to cover a `convoy', which turned out to be a
lone battleship, The King George V, racing north on her own, presumably
heading for the Home Fleet Base at Scapa Flow. On New Years Eve I was
out three times covering a large merchant convoy plodding north under
escort. I was in radio contact with the lead ship which I believe was a
cruiser. On my last trip, with dusk coming on and my fuel getting low,
I flew past the cruiser at bridge height and said `I must leave you now,
Happy New Year'. There was no response, and I could picture them
thumbing through the code book to see if Happy New Year might have a
double meaning. I was half way back to land when they came back with
`And a Happy New Yeeaw to you too'. Now all I had on my mind was getting
back down and readying for the squadron's first ever New Years Eve bash
in the mess.
This brought to an end my Spitfire flying for l941. I still had five
months to go before I moved on to new challenges, still without combat
experience but with a wealth of experience in flying the Spit, by
night or day, from 30' to 30,000' and in almost any weather. I know it
sounds crazy, but by now I had developed a distinct feeling, each time I
flew a Spit, that I was part of it and not a mere mortal sitting in it.
132 Squadron Crest and A flight
Bill: "132 squadron RAF was in the process of forming and was located in
Scotland for all the time I was with it. They were in a home defense
role, and our work was mainly scrambles to investigate unidentified
radar blips approaching the coast, convoy patrols over the North Sea,
etc. My first `mission', which we called `sortie', was August 14, 1941 -
a scramble for which I entered no description in my log book. With 132 squadron the most difficult assignments were
in night scrambles, or scrambles in extremely rotten weather. We were
usually checking out `bogies', unidentified, some of which may have
been unfriendly but most of the time they were flying in cloud and not intercepted. 
Fog. Frequent problems arose when ground fogs developed, seemingly
from nowhere. This fellow flew into the ground when trying to land in
fog at Biggin Hill. Pilot unhurt.
I landed Spitfires on grass, hard runways, sand, and wire mesh with
no problems. I can't recall seeing a gravel strip and never heard of a
punctured radiator - from take off or landing. All liquid cooled engines
were vulnerable to flak, however.
Our Squadron 132 at Peterhead was hit on one occasion while I was with it, a Ju88
hit and run attack dropped a stick of bombs across the field but hit
nothing. Unfortunately the rear gunner killed a pilot in one of the
buildings. In France there were many attempts made to bomb the
airfields, at night, but nothing hit B-4.
There were accidents however. Bill loses his best friend.
...
. Wallace's funeral party. I am visible through the right side cab window.
and carrying Wallace and the other pilot into the church yard. William Wallace was Bill's best friend and he considered him to be much like a big brother. P/O William Ord Wallace, J-4905 (my number
was J-4913) came from Calgary, Alberta. He was killed September, 18/1941 in a
mid-air collision near Hillfoot Farm, Mormond Station, Scotland. He is
buried in the Longside Cemetery, Aberdeenshire, Scotland. Bill himself could have been a victim of the weather as well but for radar and a savvy controller who brought him back in after another fruitless scramble.
From the C.A.H.S. article.
Bill" It was May 10th 1942 and a scramble to 32000 feet at night. Up to that time I had 10 hours of night flying in a Spitfire and less than 16 hours of total instrument time. It was raw and raining outside and I was the instant readiness pilot." While waiting for a call Bill and his two other pilots were making toast with a long fork on a pot bellied stove with lots of margarine. A treat for those who had night flying duty. The phone rang and someone on the other end yelled scramble. Bill climbed into his Mark VB and rolled off. At 500 feet Bill was already in the clouds and the controller was giving him directions that would take him over Scapa Flow the main British Naval Base. As he finally cleared the tops of the clouds at 10,000 feet the controller called to say the bogey had disappeared. This was a common occurrence and when Bill switched on his transmitter to ask for a vector to base there was no response, his set was dead. The controller continued to call and Bill was getting worried. he put his plane into a holding pattern. The last person to have this problem was tracked flying out over the ocean never to be seen again. Bill: "The controller was on his toes and came back to say he was not receiving me but had no way of knowing if I was receiving him. He had my position from IFF (identification friend or foe a signal that told him who Bill was transmitted from the aircraft). To confirm that Bill was hearing him the controller had him fly a course that could be tracked on the radar. With this confirmation that Bill could hear the controller vectored Bill towards the airfield. His instructions were so good that Bill came in safely over the cliffs and over the field. But many airmen were lost to weather. While with 132 all of the pilots are hoping for postings to the south where the action is. All of the other Canadians had been already posted out but when Bill leaves, though the Squadron has never had the chance to fire their guns in anger, they have lost a quarter of their original pilots. A higher loss rate than when 401 would experience while Bill would be attached.
Bill: "I have only one contact left from 132, and
he joined after the fellow who had my photos, Ron Batten, had left.
Ron's father was an author, I believe of children's stories. Ron is the
one with the dress hat in the back row of the 132 (a flight) photo you have used. I
have tried to locate anyone from 132 from those days,
without success. (anyone reading this profile if you have any contacts with 132 squadron please let Bill know. His e-mail will be at the end of the profile.)
An interesting side light that Bill shares is that he had the opportunity to dogfight with an American F4F Wildcat (Martlet in British service) 
Bill: "A few days later a Grumman Martlet from the USS Wasp landed at Skeabre. The pilot told me that they had been taken ashore so that the Wasp could be used to ferry Spitfires to Malta. He challenged me to a dogfight, which I gladly accepted, since this flying barrel looked slow and heavy compared to the Spitfire. It came as a shock to me that he could out turn me with relative ease and my only escape was to climb or run. I was surprised to find the
Grumman Wildcat able to turn inside my Spitfire. The machines themselves
may not have been the only factor. In June 1943, at Redhill in England,
we had two or three US Army pilots attached to our squadron (401) for a
short while to get operational experience. The fellow I was paired up
with (name forgotten) revealed that, fresh out of training in the
States, he had more flying time than I had after two years with the RAF!
It is quite probable that the Grumman pilot off the carrier WASP was
considerably more experienced than I was at the time.
Start-up. A photo showing Spit IX with 30 gallon belly tank and
booster battery plugged in, ready to start up.
Our `Tigerschmitt with Capt. Denny Pierce, our Canadian Army liaison officer.
I think the thing we all feared most was making some kind of goof and
being kicked out to tow (target) drogues,
or something similar (as punishment). Of course in the
air we didn't worry about invasion or bombing, but in the air with 401,
flak was our greatest enemy, particularly so called light flak.
***************************************************
CAHS Article - Africa and the Takoradi Shuttle LineBill gets the word the he is being posted "OVERSEAS" and is issued tropical gear. He joins another convoy under escort of the HMS Nelson 
for parts unknown but guessed it to be North Africa or Malta as that is where many Canadians ended up. Bill gets another action station on the Nelson, unfortunately for him it is in the engine room in the bowels of the ship. The convoy drops the pilots at Sierra Leone on Africa’s West coast and an ant infested lugger takes them on to the Gold Coast and Takoradi. Bill sleeps on the deck for 7 days to avoid the ants. It's June 1942. While on the ship just off the coast a RAF officer comes on board and asks who has experience flying Spitfires. Bill and several other volunteered that they do, thinking that this would be a way to get off the ship and get to Cairo and the Desert Air force faster. It was only a ruse as the Tak unit flew Hurricanes 
and not Spitfires.
Bill "Hurricane. A Mk II photo Hurricane, with tropical filter under the
nose. Bulge below the fuselage to rear of wing housed cameras. This is
similar to the one I flew at Takoradi, except mine had an external fuel
tank beneath each wing.
In effect the Bill and the other pilots were shanghaighed. He & eight other pilots were to become, in addition a to their other duties, the Takoradi Defense Flight. Up to this time Bill had only 20 minutes flying time in a Hurricane. On the second day he had the first of his 91 scrambles (not counted in his operational missions list) from Tak to investigate a bogey. Bill says the radar intercepts were so bad that the bogeys were already in sight of the field often the moment he got his wheel off the ground. They normally turned out to be the Boeing Clipper flying boat 
or BOAC flying boats that served the coasts of Africa and other military aircraft that had neglected to turn on their IFF (Identification friend or foe) transmitters. Once he did intercept over the ocean, Vichy and Belgian flying boats but these were in civilian markings. These were allowed to proceed unharmed.
Bill indicated that there was an endless procession of C-47's. 
and other American Aircraft as this route was also used by them to supply their air forces in Africa and the Chinese and Russians.
The pipeline to the British Desert Air force began at the Atlantic West African airfields at Takoradi on the Gold Coast and ended in Cairo Egypt for almost a 4000 mile trip. Takoradi (Tak) was where the crated aircraft were off loaded from ships and assembled and test flown for the flight across Africa. Over 5000 aircraft were delivered to the allies in this manner. The Mediterranean was too dangerous with Luftwaffe and Regia Aeronautica torpedo and dive bombers demonstrating what they could do to Malta bound convoys in 1941 and 1942. West Africa was not an absolutely safe environment and Vichy France colonies were close enough by, that Bill, (not remembering to stop volunteering) became the unit’s photo recon man. 
One of Bill photos of the Vichy Battleship Richelieu in Dakar harbor. The French AA would open up and they would scramble fighters
for intercepts. The British had shelled Dakar to prevent the French fleet from possibly being surrendered to the Germans. Many French sailors were killed and ships sunk or badly damaged. It left a bitterness that gave the British good reason to think that the French could sortie against them or allow German aircraft to shuttle in and destroy the important supply base. Bill flew recon sorties in the camera equipped Hurricane that was probably a field conversion as it was unusual in its configuration. It was Z2420 and was pale blue (bleached by the sun), there were two vertically mounted cameras behind the pilot, two 44 gallon fixed wing tanks for additional fuel and it still had 4 machine guns in the wings for defense. (With the fixed wing tanks it still would have been a sitting duck) Many ships approaching Tak were being sunk. Bill flew many missions checking the French anchorages nearby for German U-boats that were suspected of fueling and resting there, but was never able to catch one in the act of doing so. Most of these French bases had at least one AA gun and usually fired on him as he passes on his run. Bill says that the gunners were usually dead on for his line of flight and height and he flew through the smoke of the bursts. Perhaps the gunners were putting on a show and did not have any real desire to shoot him down but they got pretty close to be just showing what they could do.
The Germans had proven that they could indeed reach far being the lines when they hit Ft. Lamy in Chad with a single He-111, destroying the aircraft and fuel supplies thought to be well beyond the reach of any action.. (an He-111 Spanish version rebuilt at the NE Philly Air show 2000. ) The raid disrupted the route for several weeks until more fuel could be brought up. If that were not enough the route itself traversed desert, mountains, jungle, marshlands in jumps of up to 600 miles. If any mechanical or navigational mistakes were made or occurred the pilot was often lost with his aircraft. The standing joke at Tak was "Aircraft arrive in Tak in cases....and they arrive in Cairo in some cases. Bill and the other pilots test flew the assembled aircraft and taxied the twin engine planes fro the assembly units. The testing included making sure all the mechanical parts seemed to be working and that there were no major trim problems. The ferry pilots would arrive and test that the extra fuel tanks were operating and the only recourse might be a crash in the jungle or desert.
The conditions at Tak were miserable for a pilot who wanted to see combat, the temperature was normally 100 degrees F. with high humidity as they were 5 degrees above the equator. Tropical fungus infections afflicted everyone as the only cure was to stay dry, which was impossible. At night there was no ocean breeze and the mosquitoes came out. The beach was dangerous in itself as there was a dangerous undertow and there was also the normal host of tropical insects, scorpions in the shoes, and snakes including the Black Momba who inhabited the dark corners of the bomb dump. The pastimes were gambling by day and drinking the supply of Canadian beer in Quart bottles by night. This was one of the reasons Bill had 91 scrambles as he took the turns of some of the pilots who did not want to interrupt a card game. The Americans on the other hand had their shuttle base at Accra on the Gold Coast for shuttling their B-24 Liberators 
Bill and his unit took every opportunity to visit the base 100 miles away. The Americans had potatoes, canned hams, ice-cream and Coca Cola. Americans there could write a letter home and have a reply within a week where Bill might see a reply in six weeks if he were lucky. One package took a full year to reach him, a bag of what had once been marshmallows turned into a slab of hardened sugar.
The Germans were often shocked at the ability of Americans to "in their eyes" waste fuel by sending mail, cakes and other such items to the troops at the front when they captured men and would see the dates on the wrappings, realizing they had to be airmailed.)
Bill volunteered again to fly the bases Tiger Moth in an effort to dust the mosquitoes and reduce the incidence of malaria around the base. He took off with a box full of flour and Paris Green (mosquito killer)and while shaking the box with one hand and flying with the other the slipstream sucked the mixture back into the aircraft covering him. During the day the uniform was shorts, short sleeve shirts and desert boots, but at night the regulations were for long sleeves, long pants and mosquito boots. Bill followed the reg and never got malaria though many others did. He also made aircrews at the other bases jealous when he was able to take quinine tablets (anti malaria drug) when they were forced to take the bitter liquid to prevent the disease. Being at the front end of the pipeline did had a few advantages.
Bill had a close call on the landing field at Accra when a South African Ventura 
landed and tried to do a high speed exit onto the taxi strip where we has waiting in a 4 cannon Hurricane. 
The pilot lost control and swung towards Bill.
Bill "I could see that if he continued he would collide with me and the Hurricane could take the bang better than I could if I got out and tried to get away on foot. The port engine of the Ventura hit Bills spinner and his canon barrel went through the nose of the Ventura just missing the pilot.
In october 1942 Bill is asked to test a pair or Photo Recon Spitfires, his hopes that one would replace the Hurricane was dashed however. The unit Commander Squadron Leader Hastings told him to take BR667 to Hastings in Sierra Leone, 900 miles to the west of Tak with no other explanation. Bill made the flight skirting Vichy held territory and refueling at the American base in Liberia to discover when he landed that he was now a attached to 128 squadron. Bills old mount the PR Hurricane was flown up the next day by a squadron mate, but it caught fire in flight and the pilot Gar Warren was forced to bail out. The next move with 128 was 500 miles north west to Gambia and the airfield at Jeswang to keep an eye on the French Fleet at Dakar. Bill flew photo missions and took the photo of the Reichleiu above on November 4th. This effort was in support of the coming American landing in north Africa (operation Torch)as it was feared the French might sortie against the beaches. The Jeswang Huricne unit provided base protection against any possible French air attack. However the radar still left much to be desired and Bill after just landing after an intercept on a Sunderland Flying Boat 
.
He watched as a French Dewotine fighter
landed on the field just as two Hurricanes were wheels up to intercept him. It was a defecting pilot from the Dakar Airfield that Bill had photographed the previous day. Bills last mission was on November 22nd and by this time the Vichy French had come over to the Allies making the recon mission unnecessary. Bill and his fellow Tak pilots were to to "go back to where ever you came from" with no transportation offered. An American C-47 landed in Jeswang four days later and the pilots took Bill and his squadron mates back to Accra through a violent tropical front. Through December of 42 and January of 43 Bill continues scrambles looking for missing ships and German subs, while the accident rate continues to claim aircrews. On February 1 1943 Bill and a friend decide to fly the route to Cairo. The route to Cairo was littered with wrecked aircraft. They were splashed with white wash on the turtle deck or tail to make location easier. The joke was that if you lose your navigating leader you could still find your way to Khartom by following the white marks on the ground. The shuttles left in groups and if a single plane developed some kind of mechanical problem it and its plots waited until the next group came through the station and the problem was fixed or another aircraft was available. If multiple aricraft were in need of service the entire group waited. The pilots were given route cards for each section of the trip to Cairo. They departed with a Blenheim in the lead followed by a mixed gaggle of Spitfires and Hurricanes. They were stuck at Ikeja for 5 days then on to Kano an ancient mud walled city on the camel caravan routes for centuries. The land changed from jungle to high hills then grasslands. Bills Hurricane had fouled its plugs while flying at the slow speeds of the Blenheim and he was obliged to stay in Kano until new ones were installed. Attaching himself to another convoy including two Yugoslav pilots they flew through 1 mile visibility of a sand storm that had particles up at the 10000 foot level.
While on this route the heat and dryness of the bases cleared up the fungal infections quickly and was a relief to the men.
On to Cairo...
Bill arrives in Cairo after being 17 days in transit of which 21 hours and 55 minutes were actual flying. He lands at Kilo 8 north east of the city
and meets up with a friend that had made the trip a week earlier as his plane did not have mechanical problems. They stayed in a houseboat belonging to the transport pilots group on the Nile where they had their own cabin, feather bed and running water. The only rule was no women at the breakfast table. They climbed the pyramids, visited the Giza Cricket Club, the local caberets and took a boat that sailed up the Nile. On the morning of February 24th the adjutant of the floating hotel inquired if they were taking another ferry run to Tak. When they had to confes that they were not part of his organization he hit hit the roof and told them to leave on the next transport. A C-47 took them back to Tak in two days. The only good new on Bills return was that the defense flight for Tak was being disbanded ( the French no longer a potential threat). His counterparts get their ticket back to England but Bill was still stuck there at Tak doing weather flights until on the 26th of March he gets orders to proceed to home command. He boards a Dutch steamer and is surprised to find his squadron mates at Freetown where they had been stuck for a month waiting transport on a north bound convoy. After a 30 day voyage they arrive in Liverpool and Bill is about to be assigned to 401.
Bill: "I have no photos of 132 or Takoradi. I did
not take my camera overseas (because we were told not to, and I did not
want to do anything to risk my career). I had a number of photos of 132,
taken by others, which I gave to a friend to bring back to Canada for
mailing. He was on the MSFU (Merchant Service Fighter Unit), which put a
Hurricane on a catapult mounted on a merchant ship, to be launched if an
enemy aircraft was seen near a convoy. He was torpedoed on the way to
Canada, and while he survived, my photos did not. At Takoradi I had
ample opportunity to get film from the photo unit, had I had a camera.
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