Library Reference Number: 081
Duff Gen
In RAF parlance, the above title means `misinformation from someone who should know better' and this account highlights the interdependence of all categories within the service, including our meteorologist's reports on which so many aircrew members rely for their forward planning. In the following account Bill Taylor describes the consequences of `duff gen' which threatened the lives of his crew, and contributed to the loss of three other aircraft.
On this particular occasion the target was Sofia, capital of Bulgaria, and this was the first time our Wimpy squadrons had operated over the Balkans. It was unknown territory, little was known about this part of Europe, and at briefing we were told that Bulgaria was considering splitting from the Germans, and this was a raid to help them make up their minds. A major barrier was the jagged range of mountains that stretched the entire length of Yugoslavia - the Dinaric Alps.
The target was Sofia and the bomb load 9x 5001b bombs. The Balkans area was snow-covered, bitterly cold and felt even worse because the Wimpy heating system seldom worked. These conditions must have put the city offguard as all the lights were on as in peacetime, and the defences had been taken completely by surprise. We dropped our bombs in two runs, but on our return flight their defences became better organised, and we had to run the gauntlet of flak and night-fighters. As we were returning over Yugoslavia, the wireless operator received a good met report from base, stating that the weather was clear across the Adriatic and all the way back to base.
Clearing the Yugoslavic coast, our aircraft was confronted by a solid bank of black storm cloud over the Adriatic. We tried unsuccessfully to get below the cloud, and were also unable to get above it. It was extremely bumpy and the Wimpy started to ice up on the wings and propellers. Chunks of ice thrown from the props crashed against the side of the aircraft and the electrical storm produced dramatic sights. Blue lightning flashed between the two front guns, also the propellers were circles of blue lightning resembling Catherine Wheels on firework night. Being 10/10 cloud, map-reading was impossible, and the electrical storm distorted the radio to such an extent that the only form of navigation left was by dead reckoning.
At our estimated time of being back over base, we were still in 10110 cloud. As the plain of Foggia has mountains to the North & West, the Pilot decided it was too risky to descend, and although fuel was becoming short we kept flying westwards until it was necessary to once again switch on the emergency nacelle fuel supply to gain another 30 minutes duration. With tension rising and still flying blindly, I suddenly spotted a gap in the cloud which the Pilot took as an opportunity to descend 4,OOOft breaking free from the cloud. We saw land below and a coastline in view. We were astonished to find we had flown right across Italy with the Mediterranean spread before us.
The crew felt as if some deity had guided us towards that gap in the cloud, but we were still completely lost with no idea if we were in Allied or German-held Italy. Being very low on fuel, we sent out a Mayday call several times before eventually being answered by an American voice who announced he was putting up a searchlight to guide us towards his air base. His reassuring message was immediately followed by a warning that there was a `bandit' following us, but still to come in and he would extinguish all lights and flare path immediately we touched down. Sure enough, we spotted his guiding light away to the South and as we thankfully touched down on the runway, all lights were extinguished and both our engines cut out from lack of fuel.
As our aircraft came to a halt, an American sergeant drove up in a jeep and took us to the control tower. We then discovered our exact position for the first time; we had landed at an American airfield at Pomigliano, nine miles North of Naples, close to the site of a bombed out Alfa-Romeo car factory. The American was alone on duty and after giving us some welcome coffee, waited with us until the daytime crew arrived for duty.
Preparations were then made for us to return to base, and our Wellington being checked and refuelled, we set off to return to Foggia. On our return, we discovered that we were only the third aircraft to make it back to base from that op. The Squadron had lost three Wellington aircraft the previous night perhaps due to the 'duff gen' given out by the met report. One hit a mountain and the other two crashed with no survivors. Who knows what would have happened, if given an accurate weather report, we may have avoided the worst of the storm which enveloped us and presumably our fellow aircraft which proved fatal in their case.
The Met Officer concerned with issuing duff gen was court-martialled, during which process it transpired he issued the Met Report while he was drunk!