HISTORY OF THE 423 SQUADRON

CHAPTER I

INTO ACTION - WORLD WAR TWO

Formup At Oban

In the spring of 1942, German troops held Leningrad under siege and Moscow was in peril. Rommel still controlled North Africa. England, though victorious in the Battle of Britain, was being slowly strangled by a U-boat blockade. Nearly 1,500,000 tons of Allied shipping was lost in the summer months alone. 1 To counter the U-boat threat, the 423 Squadron was formed; the fifth and last RCAF coastal squadron to be created overseas and the first RCAF Sunderland unit to be formed in England.

Ordered into existence on 18 May 1942, 423 Squadron was formed up at Oban, Argyll, on the west coast of Scotland. It was an inauspicious birth. Quartered in the station's former navigation room, it consisted of one lone soul - Squadron Leader J.D.E. Hughes. A week later arrived Wing Commander F.J. Rump, the squadron's first Commanding Officer. Being in charge of one man and one room, he promptly ordered the room partitioned to create "an Orderly Room and some Officers' Rooms" and then left! Actually, despite having just arrived from Gibraltar to an infant unit, he was called away to act as President of the Board of Inquiry investigating the crash of Sunderland T/9809.

For the remainder of May and June, additional personnel trickled in. The first of the maintenance crew, LAC Larkman, arrived on 29 May. On 18 June, a full month after the squadron's formation, the first aircrew arrived. Pilot Officers Everton, Johnston, and Mitchell were all observers.

Meanwhile, delays in procuring building materials were causing a hold-up in the physical establishment of the squadron. The building of workshops on Kerrera Island for supporting the anticipated flying boats was of prime operational necessity. By the end of the month, however, the squadron was able to form a crew, which was detached to Greenock to ferry in the unit's first aircraft. 2 Other personnel were attached to 228 (RAF) Squadron to gain flying experience in operational sorties. During this early period, most members of 423 (RCAF) Squadron were, in fact, members of the RAF.

On 17 and 18 July, almost two months from the day of its inception, 423 received its first two aircraft, Sunderland Mk IIs. 3 Both aircraft bore the squadron identifying letters "AB," which would later be changed to the number "3" so as not to betray the squadron's identity to unfriendly observers. With its own aircraft, the squadron now embarked on a heavy program of training.

Operations Begin

The training flights had contained all the elements of anti-submarine patrols but the first official operational mission was flown on 23 August, just over three months after S/L Hughes first arrived to that empty navigation room called 423 Squadron. 4 It lasted for nearly thirteen hours and used the "Creeping Line Ahead" method of search. Training continued, although the next operational trip did not occur until 20 September 1942 in the area of the Outer Hebrides. The next operational missions took place three days later, when two aircraft left on missions which would have notable results.

The first mission, piloted by F/O Hugall in "G George", turned in the squadron's first convoy escort trip. Convoy UR 42 had intercepted a U-boat transmitting from somewhere behind the flotilla. Hugall investigated, but turned up nothing.

The second trip of the day, captained by P/O I.R.A. Mills, was supposed to take over the escort, but got more than was bargained for when both engines on the port wing failed just after being called back from the convoy. Low over the water and heavy with a full load of depth charges and over half of a fuel load, "Moose" Mills had no choice but to put the big flying boat onto the Atlantic Ocean. The landing was surprisingly gentle and the crew set about jettisoning their armament. The crew held their breath as the depth charges splashed overboard. Restarting the port engines, Mills attempted to water-taxi to a small island in the distance but thirty foot waves made this practically impossible. Off the wind, the starboard sponson submerged to the point that the outboard propeller bit into the water. The ocean was coming in through the front turret, the pilot's windows and the astro hatch, and was filling the aircraft faster than the onboard bilge pumps could handle. After a half-hour of fighting King Neptune, Mills decided that a take-off had to be attempted. On their second try, they became airborne, and in Mills' own words:

"A bucking bronco had nothing on our Sunderland on that take-off. One second we were surf-boarding down the backside of a swell ploughing the trough with our nose, and the next we were temporarily airborne. The floor boards were buckling and the navigators were frantically pursuing cups and saucers flying about the galley. With each bounce the boat picked up a little more airspeed, and finally, at a speed of 65 knots, it was truly airborne. Two hours later we reached base." 5

That the aircraft made it home was a miracle. The bows were bent upwards; the sides of the hull creased; the tailplane was bashed in; the propellers were bent, and the airframe was strained throughout. So much damage was incurred during its take-off struggle that the aircraft (W6001, the first on squadron) would never be used for operations by 423 again. The actions of Mills and his crew were formally acknowledged by Air Chief Marshall Sir Philip Joubert, the Air Officer Commanding in Chief of Coastal Command. This was the first time that engine failure had occurred during an operational mission but it would not be the last. The operational records during the Sunderland era show that at least thirty-three missions were directly affected by this recurring problem. Faulty engines would cause two fatal crashes, along with the loss of a third aircraft.

On 24 September, the mission was to photograph beds of seaweed along the west coast of Scotland and the Hebrides. Despite some imaginative rumours, the information was for the Ministry of Supply and not for some notion of growing an impenetrable belt of kelp around the British Isles for the purpose of fouling the propellers of unsuspecting U-boats. 6

In October, the squadron was ordered to move immediately to Castle Archdale, located on Lough Erne in Northern Ireland. The big Sunderlands were put to work in moving the unit lock, stock, and barrel. They were carrying, at times, 10,000 pounds of freight or up to twenty passengers in addition to fuel and the normal crew of eleven. In all, the move took eight days with everyone and everything in place by 3 November. During the move, the first Sunderland Mk III had been taken on strength. 423 Squadron was now officially designated as "operational." It was the end of an intense period of training in which 346 practice bombs had been dropped and over 31,000 rounds fired in air-to-air and air-to-ground training missions. 7 The gunnery practice would come in handy in the very near future.

Lough Erne and Castle Archdale

At Lough Erne, 423 Squadron joined a list of squadrons which would make this station one of the foremost bases for anti-submarine operations in the North Atlantic. Established in January 1941, after a secret agreement with the Irish government allowed overflying Donegal Bay, Castle Archdale hosted a total of five RAF and two RCAF squadrons.

Castle Archdale did not offer the regal accommodations suggested by its grand name. At times, the station was so overcrowded that conditions were almost unbearable. Many lived in a swampy part of the camp known as "skunk hollow." There, Nissen huts, poorly built structures designed as temporary accommodations, were cold and offered few creature comforts. One such hut sported a sign reflecting the feelings of the occupants:

SKUNK HOLLOW

DRIVE LIKE HELL

NO OBSEEN LANGUAGE

NO WIMMIN

NO NUTHIN! 8

Canadian airmen once boycotted the mess to protest the poor and unchanging diet and won their case (much to the surprise and delight of their RAF brethren). If one had the time and the opportunity, large meals of steak and fresh eggs were available in town from supplies spirited across the Irish border. Later, food packets from Canada would improve the fare for all, 9 including the rats, whose numbers and bodily proportions were the stuff of legend. They forced their way into official squadron history when they ruined one particular special occasion. The Operations Record Book for 14 September 1943 reads:

"Rats spoiled the Grapes Draw. Pounds and pounds of money were collected for the draw but a visit of rats upset the plan and the money had to be refunded. The grapes which the rats missed are on sale for 2/6 per pound." 10

Another account says:

"The station at Castle Archdale was infested with rats. Walking from your Nissen Hut to the Mess at night you would pick them up in the beam of your torch.

One evening we were all in bed reading when one of the boys quietly called the attention of the rest of the hut to a remarkable scene being played out on the floor. As part of the general rationing scheme, one meal a week was comprised of "hard tack" biscuits. These were never eaten, as far as I know, but some had found their way into our hut and one at this moment was being claimed by a more suitable recipient, namely one of the many rats. It had come in through a small crack. After a time it gave up the struggle and retired through the hole. A short while later, we were intrigued to observe its return with an accomplice and we watched, fascinated, while one of the rats positioned the biscuit vertically on its end and the other pulled it through the crack. We considered it a very fitting end for something which was otherwise unsuitable for human consumption."

1943: The Pace Quickens

The year 1943 would produce some of the squadron's greatest accomplishments, and its greatest tragedies.

On 28 January, word was received that four crews and aircraft were to be prepared for a "special assignment" to last approximately ten days. Speculation was rife as to the nature of the assignment, especially in view of the preparatory practice in bombing and fighter cooperation. 11 The crews were sent to Pembroke Dock, situated on Milford Haven, north of the Bristol Channel on the west coast of Britain. From there, they operated in the Bay of Biscay to protect convoys proceeding to Gibraltar, which were carrying troops and supplies to reinforce the Allied invasion of North Africa. 12 Although no submarines were sighted during the Pembroke operation, the Luftwaffe was seen in force. During one mission alone, seventeen enemy aircraft, including two that were positively identified as Heinkel HE 111's, were sighted. 13 Crews were ordered to avoid tangling with enemy aircraft and none were drawn into combat.

Of special interest were the administrative actions of 29 January 1943. In addition to the Canadian aircrew receiving Canadian identification disks, it was logged that the aircraft would wear a special insignia denoting the nationality of the squadron. The emblem, a red maple leaf on a field of RAF blue and surrounded by an outer roundel of dark blue, was to be placed on the port side of the fuselage of each aircraft, forward of the wing's leading edge. 14 This emblem was the forerunner to the insignia used on present Canadian military aircraft.

The latter part of the month saw a run of bad weather finally easing up, and not a moment too soon for the aircrew, who had taken to calling themselves the "Fog Hogs."

With the improved conditions came an improvement in the hunting, however, the U-boats would have the first successes. In the early hours of Saint Patrick's Day, convoy SC 122 found itself under attack by the U-boat pack Raubgraf, which had been shadowing SC 122 and the closely following convoy HX 229. Within forty-eight hours, the concerted effort of the "wolf pack" had resulted in the sinking of eight ships of the leading convoy and eleven of the second. 15

First off, on 19 March, was F/L C.L. Bradley in AB+E (W.6053). Three hours into the mission, the crew received word of a U-boat sighting and, thirty minutes later, they spotted a periscope. The submarine disappeared, but its intended target, the tanker ROMAN, was warned. For the next five hours, the Sunderland would keep the wolf away from the defenceless ship. An hour and a half after the first report, the sub was sighted again and, this time, Bradley was able to get in an attack; the squadron's first. Unfortunately, most of the depth charges failed to drop, and the two which did landed just ahead of the diving submarine. Within a few minutes the problem was fixed, and a further stick of four "DCs" were dropped in the vicinity of the last sighting. No immediate evidence of damage was seen, but F/O Frizell's crew did sight a partially surfaced sub that evening which was trailing a long oil slick.

The next morning, F/O A.B. Howell in AB+F (W.6011) spotted a fully surfaced U-boat from about eight miles away. As men scrambled on its deck, Howell attacked and straddled the sub with five depth charges as it submerged. There was no evidence of damage except an oil slick 100 yards square, which was later seen in the same position. Four hours later, the Sunderland came upon another surfaced submarine. This U-boat's gunners duelled with the flying boat's turrets right up to forty-five seconds prior to diving. The crew responded with plenty of bullets and a single depth charge (a second one failing to release). Once again, the sub disappeared without a trace, but not without having learned a thing or two about 423 Squadron. Howell's efforts during the mission earned him a Distinguished Flying Cross, the first decoration awarded to a member of the squadron.

The battles with the Unterseeboots of the German Kriegsmarine continued. On 5 April, F/L Bradley's crew in AB+H (W.6008) found a U-boat once again fully surfaced. The sub did not see the Sunderland until just two miles away. Bradley dropped four depth charges thirty feet apart, straddling the crash-diving sub from bow to stern. All the DC's exploded; the last immediately ahead of the U-boat's propellers which could still be seen. Gunners in the upper and rear turrets saw several large chunks of debris thrown into the air on the second and third explosions. The disappearance of the submarine was followed forty-five seconds later by an underwater explosion, which produced a violent eruption and a very large oil slick. When circling the area afterwards, the crew clearly saw objects floating in the water, some of which appeared to be bodies. Bradley and crew continued their patrol, using the aircraft's special long-range tanks to the maximum. They landed at Lough Erne with 100 gallons left in the tanks after a sortie of seventeen hours and twenty minutes.

The crew believed the submarine to be sunk, and were supported by both the Flight Commander and the Station Commander. The Admiralty Assessment Committee, however, only credited the squadron with a "seriously damaged". 16 Still, Bradley's efforts earned him a D.F.C., which he received at the same time as Howell. 17

In the last encounter of the month, F/O A.A. Bishop and crew surprised another surfaced submarine. Due to the weather, the aircraft was at only 200 feet when the sub was sighted. In order to gain an appropriate attack position, Bishop was forced to circle. The U-boat, out of effective range of the aircraft's Brownings yet now very aware of the Sunderland's presence, began a crash-dive. Twenty seconds later Bishop was on top, dropping six depth charges. Unfortunately, in the heat of the moment, he forgot to arm them, and only one exploded. The submarine escaped, but Bishop would have his day in the near future.

Happy Birthday!

May 1943 was a notable month for 423 Squadron. The Operations Record Book notes, in an awestruck tone, that the sun shone for almost a week, with rain only on the day that the officers were forced to move from their comfortable digs in the Castle to the infamous Nissen huts. On the positive side, word was received on the third that the King had signed and approved the squadron's crest; the men of 423 Squadron now had their "Eagle" cypher and the motto "We Search and Strike" to identify with. Their worthiness of such a proud statement was quickly made evident by the actions of F/L J. Musgrave and crew on the night of 12-13 May.

Musgrave had set out on an escort mission for convoy HX 237 and was only fifteen minutes into the mission when his crew caught U-456 by surprise on the surface. Again, the submarine crew chose to "slug it out" with the attacking aircraft. While the convoy and its escorts were informed of the submarine, the Sunderland's gunners were giving the sub their own dose of hospitality; over 2000 rounds were fired, with hits observed on and around the conning tower. In reply, the sub managed to hit the aircraft with a cannon shell, but did not cause any serious damage.

The willingness of U-boats to trade fire with attacking aircraft resulted in a Coastal Command policy which directed that surface combatants be brought in to fight the surfaced submarine. Accordingly, the corvettes HMCS DRUMHELLER and HMS LAGAN came within gunnery range and added their three-inch guns to the fray. The U-boat decided it had seen enough and quickly submerged. Musgrave saw the sub's violent turn to port and dropped two depth charges slightly ahead of the swirl. Soon the corvettes were in place and they added their own patterns of depth charges to the attack.

The lack of immediate evidence of effect on the submarine was, in the Squadron Commander's words, "disappointing," but it would later be confirmed that the submarine had indeed been sunk. F/L Musgrave had provided the squadron with its first official kill, shared with the two ships.

The squadron officially celebrated its first birthday on 21 May. W/C Rump, with a fine sense of timing, ensured that the occasion was made even more memorable by becoming the father of a beautiful baby girl the very same day.

Take It Out, Put It In...

Castle Archdale was a busy place for squadron personnel besides those "making the headlines." The squadron operated a training detachment at Lough Neagh where each crew would spend a week out of every two months. Mornings were taken up with lectures and ground practice, while afternoons were devoted to flight training.

The ground crews had their hands full. The squadron was in the process of changing over its remaining Sunderland Mk II's for the Mk III version. If these regular maintenance woes were not enough, Coastal Command had embarked on a weight-reduction program (similar to that of Bomber Command) in order to extend the range and endurance of its aircraft. The eleven aircraft on the squadron's charge had all "unnecessary" equipment removed. This included the mid-upper turrets and the heating systems -"unnecessary" obviously depending upon one's point of view. At the same time, the need for increased armament in the nose was being addressed. Initially, this meant replacing the two .303 calibre machine guns in the Fraser-Nash nose turret with a larger .50 calibre weapon. Within a month, the .303's would be returned to the turret to work with the bigger gun. By January 1944, four fixed .303's operated by the pilot would further add to the Sunderland's firepower. The mid-upper turret would return later that summer. In addition, four hand-held gas-operated Vickers (G.O.V.s) machine guns would be available for aircrewmen in the galley, as well as an extra .50 calibre slung under the front turret. 18 These welcome additions to the Sunderland earned it the nickname "Sunderbolt" from its heartened crews. 19

Additions to the Sunderland were not easy taskings. "Rigger Sgt Lew Wright was assigned the job of carrying out this work along with his other responsibilities. This involved not only removing the turret but also the hydraulic pump mounted on the engine and all the associated tubing, all of which had to be labelled and carefully stored.

One bright Spring morning in 1944, Lew walked into the maintenance shop with a big smile from ear to ear. "That's the lot", he said, "the last turret is out and replaced with an escape hatch."

"Congratulations, Lew", I replied, and handed him a signal we had just received from Group Headquarters. He took it in his hand and silently read what it said: "ON RECEIPT OF THIS SIGNAL, YOU ARE TO COMMENCE THE REINSTALLATION OF MID UPPER GUN TURRETS ON ALL OPERATIONAL SUNDERLANDS."

Lew's smile slipped a bit but all he said was, "These things are just sent to try us." Without another word, he turned and walked out bracing himself for the job which would take another several months."