APPENDIX X
On the morning of 18 July, 1944, at Northolt Aerodrome on the western outskirts of London, Flying Officer Mike Wetz of 16 Squadron was briefed on his mission for the day.
UNARMED AND ALONE
The men of 16 Squadron operated alone. Their missions were single aircraft, single pilot affairs. Their PR Mark XI Spitfires were either converted from Mark IXs or purpose-built photo reconnaissance models. Removing the guns made space for leading-edge wing tanks which extended endurance; reduced weight and retractable tail wheels allowed extra speed. The oxygen system was sufficient up to 30,000 feet; special pressure-breathing equipment enabled pilots in their unpressurized cockpits to remain conscious, for brief periods at least, at altitudes of 40,000 feet and more, on the very edge of the stratosphere. And they flew unarmed. Without guns or ammunition, with even some armour plating removed, the PR Spitfires relied on speed, altitude, and pilot skill to evade enemy ground fire and enemy aircraft.
This was a job for individuals. The pilot was briefed, flew the operation, and returned the exposed films for processing. He generally did not discuss the details of the op with his fellow pilots. Of course, pilots would report when a particular new threat had been discovered or some new tactic for evading the enemy’s defences found. And the more experienced pilots had an unofficial policy of making themselves ‘discreetly available’ to offer advice to newly-joined squadron members. Mike Wetz recalled that some might have lasted longer if they had heeded the advice, but ‘Most pilots were willing to learn and listen.’1 The job was concerned with Intelligence. The pilot was given map co-ordinates and flew the mission. If he did not need to know the reason for the mission, then he preferred not to know. The less he knew the less he could tell if captured and interrogated. 2
MISSIONS
16 Squadron had close links with the Army. A few of its pilots were former soldiers. Living in tents at Northolt, their aircraft exposed to rain, snow, mud and dust, they were somewhat looked down upon as ‘brown jobs’ by the RAF Photo Reconnaissance units at Benson. Legend has it that one pilot landing at Benson was requested to park his weather-beaten Spit out of sight of the immaculate home-based aircraft of the ‘PRU’ élite. At this time working directly for 21st Army Group, the job of 16 Squadron was mostly strategic, and commonly involved flying far into enemy territory. As a general rule, missions less than 150 miles behind the front line were conducted by the Tactical Reconnaissance squadrons, flying armed Mustangs and (later) pink Spitfires. 16 Squadron normally operated further afield. Sometimes the mission was to photograph overlapping strips of ground from which the Army Geographical Section could piece together a mosaic of ground coverage for developing contour maps of the ground ahead of the advancing armies. At other times, pilots were sent to bring back photographic evidence of points of strategic interest. Later in the campaign these often included the bases of the new German jet and rocket-powered fighters, the ME 262 and ME 163 (which themselves were a serious threat to the fast PR Spitfires).
In theory, 16 Squadron pilots accepted missions in rotation: the next man on the roster took the next job on the list. Then his name went down to the bottom of the roster again. (In practice, Squadron Leader Tony Davis would sometimes pull rank and fly the more ‘dicey’ ops himself.) The mission Mike Wetz was allocated on the morning of 18 July was rather unusual. On this day, the co-ordinates of the area Wetz was to cover turned out to be very close indeed. He was to fly a mosaic pattern just beyond the front line of the Normandy battleground. So, not a particularly exciting or memorable assignment. Mike completed his briefing and walked out to his aircraft.
THE FLIGHT
Spitfire 654 was a PR Mark XI, painted light blue overall, with the single white identification letter ‘F’ abaft the fuselage RAF roundel and on the nose, directly under the spinner. Behind the pilot, between fuselage frames 13 and 15, were two K17, 20-inch focal length cameras. Mounted vertically, each of the ‘split pair’ of cameras was angled respectively to port and starboard, to achieve a lateral image overlap of 10 percent. The two cameras operated simultaneously, the pilot flying straight-and-level while adjusting the four to five second interval between exposures (allowing for airspeed and wind speed), aiming to produce the 60 percent fore-and-aft overlap needed for stereoscopic viewing of the images. It is a tribute to their skill that these Spitfire pilots, operating single-handed in hostile skies and with no direct view downwards over the subject area, consistently succeeded in achieving such fine precision.
Mike Wetz was airborne out of Northolt at 11.05 hours.3 Climbing rapidly to cruising altitude, he was established at 25,000 feet well before crossing the coast at Selsey Bill, between Bognor Regis and Portsmouth. Crossing the enemy coast at Cabourg, he was just under five miles above ground and a similar horizontal distance behind the German front line, east of the dual waterways of the Caen Canal and Orne River. Here he descended rapidly to 15,000 feet QNH (the barometric scale on his altimeter set so as to display altitude above mean sea level; as opposed to ‘QFE’ which would give height above ground) to begin photography.
As part of his mission briefing, Mike Wetz would match the latitude and longitude he was given with visual cues on the ground identifying the point of at which his photo mosaic was to commence. It was important to spot the target in advance, since once established straight-and-level on a photography run there was no view directly downwards from the Spitfire cockpit; during a pass over the target, it was only by a rapid rolling manoeuvre in the few seconds between camera exposures that this could be confirmed. Wetz aligned with the conveniently prominent line feature of the dual-track Caen to Paris railway, possibly noting that the south-eastern extremity of his target area was marked by a distinctive wood with six roads radiating from its centre (today little trace remains of les Bois Drouet, but in 1944 it was just the sort of unique feature needed to confirm position).
About 11.40 hours, Mike Wetz began his first photography run, from east to west. Between that time and 12.25, he made eight further passes, each one a straight line over the target area. Altogether he captured 210 images on his port camera, 236 on his starboard. Job done, Wetz returned to Northolt via Cabourg and Selsey, landing at 12.50 hours. Apart from ‘a number of a/c about 10,000 [feet] in area probably Allied light bombers’, the mission had been unremarkable. Mike Wetz ended his report, ‘No incidents’.4
THE MISSION
The light blue Spitfire at 15,000 feet had gone unnoticed on the ground, a blue speck in a blue sky above a heavy haze of dust and smoke. Nor was the pilot aware of the events his cameras were recording. In fact, the film canisters Mike Wetz brought back contained highly detailed images of a battle in progress. Pilots know that a layer of haze blocking visibility along the ground generally becomes easier to penetrate from on high: the higher the viewpoint, the nearer to the vertical becomes the line of sight, with correspondingly less mist getting in the way. 15,000 feet above the smoke and dust of battle, the cameras enjoyed a considerably clearer panorama than anyone on the ground.
No record has been found of the purpose of Wetz’s mission. Nevertheless, it was almost certainly intended to assess the accuracy and effect of the aerial bombardment of the morning. The precise coordinates he was given (and was to photograph with great accuracy and thoroughness) contained an area which should, according to plan, by the time of the mission have been well behind the advancing front line. So there was little tactical interest. The fact that the photographs revealed a battle in progress was clearly unintended. There is a further clue in the timing. The last of the American bombers were to finish their bombing by 06.30 hours (army time). A photo reconnaissance mission five hours later might miss the action on the ground, but would be expected to reveal the effect of the bombing after the dust had settled. Ironically, whoever commissioned the sortie does not appear to have communicated its findings (assuming they were ever analysed at all) to the Number 2 Operations Research Section attached to 21st Army Group when its scientists set out to analyze the effectiveness of the GOODWOOD bombing.
Why was a long-range PR Spitfire allocated the task of a short-range mission in place of a Fighter Reconnaissance aircraft? Wetz delighted in being given the opportunity to take up one of these pink Spitfire FR IXs. Though their primary role was intended to be low-level photography, using cameras mounted obliquely, they were also armed. Wetz recalled, ‘Around invasion time we were given rather shorter trips at low level and in addition were asked to count trains and say which way they were going. This was a nice change and in fact they gave us some Spits with two cannon and four machine guns. Provided we carried out our sorties, we were allowed to attack suitable targets... A train was most exciting.’5 Whatever the mission, Wetz made it a point of honour to return with all ammunition, as well as all film, expended.
But a blue PR Spitfire XI, unarmed, with dual twenty-inch cameras did not normally photograph from as low as 15,000 feet. Again, the answer can be deduced with some confidence. The tactical photography intended to guide divisional operations and generate aerial photos to assist front-line officers had long since been conducted, and the prints distributed to the Army units’ Air Photographic Interpretation Sections. The effectiveness of heavy bombers over the battlefield was still an unknown factor, a matter of strategic interest, at Army Group level and above. And 18 July was a busy day for 21st Army Group’s dedicated PR specialists. 16 Squadron recorded ‘...an excellent day for flying. Seventeen high level photo recces were despatched over France during the day. Every sortie was a success. In fact it was a 100% performance.’6 The exuberance of the normally staid Operations Record Book reveals an exceptional day: a day when the squadron was at full stretch and every operational aircraft and pilot was needed. Wetz and his aircraft simply took their turn.
THE OUTCOME
So, sixty years later, as memories fade and historians struggle to reconstruct a coherent picture from disparate viewpoints on the ground, aerial images enable us to see back in time. We are granted a grandstand seat for the GOODWOOD stakes, a view of the great tank charge of 18 July at its high water mark. We follow the tracks of 3rd RTR’s Shermans they lead purposefully up the long open slope to Hubert-Folie; the foremost tanks billow smoke as they are halted; the survivors leave zigzag tracks as they frantically reverse downhill, left stick, right stick; and all too often the zigzag line ends with yet another smoking wreck. We witness the ruin of C Squadron of the Fife and Forfar Yeomanry, and the fate of A and B Squadrons in the cauldron of Four. We locate the outline of von Rosen’s great Tiger tanks, stopped by a mystery weapon which years later turned out to have been German ‘88s’; and we follow the tracks of Oemler ’s King Tigers as they in turn drive to disaster.
References
1
‘Spitfire in Blue’, Hugh Smallwood, 1996, ISBN 1 85532 615 9, p 39.
2
For these and other details, the author is deeply indebted to Flight Lieutenant H J S (‘Jimmy’) Taylor, whose remarkable memory so clearly recalls the deeds of the remarkable men of 16 Squadron.
3
See Appendix 3 for further details of the flight timing.
4
16 Squadron Operations Record Book, Details of Sorties, 18 July, 1944
5
Smallwood, p 40
6
16 Squadron Operations Record Book, Summary of Events 14 – 19 July, 1944
Flying Officer Mike Wetz (right) accompanied by Flying Officers Norman Godfrey (centre) and John Wendelker (left). Visible through the Spitfire’s one-piece canopy is the camera control unit.