On 20 July 1944, an innovative 'Heavy Oboe' bombing operation against V-weapon sites ended in tragedy when the lead Lancaster was destroyed by flak while holding course to complete its bombing run. Sean Feast recounts this remarkable story of courage, sacrifice, and one of Bomber Command's lesser-known wartime operations.
When a daylight attack was ordered on the V1 constructional works at Forêt du Croc, the RAF decided this was the perfect opportunity to use Oboe, the blind bombing device that delivered exceptional bombing accuracy.
As well as using a Mosquito to lead the attack in the first wave of bombers, the planners also determined to use an Oboe-equipped Lancaster in a second wave. When it dropped its bombs, so would the others who followed. It was an unusual tactic. In a ‘Heavy Oboe’ – as it was known – a Mosquito crew joined the Lancaster crew and the pilots and navigators literally swapped seats for the bombing run.
The 8 Group Operations Record Book for 20 July 1944 reads: ‘Three Mosquitoes and 17 Lancasters took off but all were abortive and one Lancaster [is] missing.’ This simple statement hides a terrible tragedy.
The attack was to comprise a first wave of eight Lancasters from 156 Squadron in the company of two Mosquitoes from 105 Squadron; a second wave to follow a minute behind made up of nine Lancasters from 582 Squadron (including the one that was Oboe-equipped) with a Mosquito from 105 in reserve. Later this was amended to be a 109 Squadron Mosquito.
The 109 Squadron crew chosen to ‘share’ the 582 Squadron Lancaster comprised Squadron Leader James Foulsham AFC (left) and his navigator Flight Lieutenant John Swarbrick. The crew they joined was led by Squadron Leader John ‘Ben’ Weightman DFC, a pilot and Master Bomber of considerable operational experience.
All went well on the flight out until it was time for the Oboe run of the lead Mosquito in the first wave, flown by Flight Lieutenant Ken Wolstenholme DFC. Wolstenholme was unable to acquire the signal satisfactorily and led the first wave of 156 Squadron Lancasters away from the target to allow the second wave a clear run.
Now it was Foulsham and Swarbrick’s turn, having assumed command of Weightman’s (left) aircraft and crew. They flew straight and level, listening to the Oboe signal for the moment to bomb.
Flying Officer Jeff Chapman, wireless operator in the crew of Flight Lieutenant Gerry O’Donovan who was flying just behind the Oboe leader described what happened next:
'The leader opened his bomb doors; we opened ours and so on down the line. It would be about 30 seconds to the drop. I was standing up next to my seat with my head in the astrodome and could see it all.
'One did not usually hear the bursts of flak above the roar of the engines. If one did, then it was very close indeed. We heard this one. A ‘whoof’ and a ball of flame, instantly gone as we flew through it. Our aircraft was spattered with small bits of exploding shell, some of which went clean through us and out the other side, filling the fuselage for the moment with a cloud of pulverized aluminium dust. One piece on its way through tore the sleeve of my flying jacket.'
Jeff could see that the port wing of the leading aircraft was a mass of flame which streamed back as far as the tailplane in the slipstream. It looked as though the Lanc had received a direct hit on or near the port inner engine or one of the fuel tanks. It was obvious they would have to bale out, and quickly, if they were to survive:
'The leader kept on, straight and level, waiting for the electronic signal to drop his bombs. After what seemed like another very long 10 seconds the whole of the port wing folded upwards at a right angle and completely broke off, the aircraft turning on its back and went into a crazy downward gyration. I watched it for some time. I saw no parachutes open and did not expect to.
When the shell burst our flight engineer, who was stretched out horizontally in the nose with his eyes glued to the open bomb bay of the leader, was temporarily blinded and because his thumb was hovering over the bomb release ‘tit’, inadvertently pressed it. The rest of the gaggle behind us saw our bombs fall away and let go their own. Down went the whole lot, missing the target by at least a mile.
None of us spoke and it was the skipper’s somewhat measured ‘course for home please, navigator’ that broke the silence.'
Foulsham’s aircraft had been fatally hit, and the formation behind all dropped their bombs short in the mistaken belief that the signal had been given. There were no survivors from the crash that resulted. DFC’s for Foulsham and Swarbrick were gazetted soon after their deaths. Both men arguably deserved more.
A full account of the attack and the men’s bravery is given in V-Weapons Bomber Command Failed to Return. Published by Fighting High, the book tells the stories of Bomber Command crews lost while attacking Germany's V-weapon sites during the Second World War.