Library Reference Number: 116
Robert Whitelaw
Observer/Air Gunner, Royal Flying Corps
This is the story of a soldier in the first world-war, who had seen action as a stretcher-bearer, and witnessed much of the horror of coping with large numbers of wounded infantrymen in trench warfare. As aerial activity increased during the 1914-18 war, the value of early intelligence on troop movements and weather conditions became more apparent. Due to the increasing number of aircraft being deployed, this in turn led to increasing numbers of aircrew required. Following a recruitment drive for volunteers to undertake flying duties, the soldier (Robert Whitelaw), considered a transfer from his stretcher-bearing duties which had been extremely harrowing, applied and was accepted as a member of aircrew in the Royal Flying Corps.
The background of this account stretches right back to the early beginnings of Air Forces in Britain. The Central Flying School (CFS) is the primary institution for the training of flying instructors in this country. It was established at Upavon in Wiltshire on 12th May 1912, and is the longest existing flying training school in the world. By the outbreak of the First World War, CFS had contributed 93 pilots to the Royal Flying Corps. The RFC itself had only been formed by Royal Warrant on 13th May 1912, and superseded the Air Battalion of the Royal Engineers.
Its also interesting to note, that the formation of the CFS had first been proposed in 1911 by Prime Minister Asquith, as part of his structure for the Royal Flying Corps, and one of the first students to graduate on 5th December 1912 was Major Hugh Trenchard - later to become the first Marshal of the Royal Air Force.
Robert Whitelaw's application to join the RFC being accepted, he went on to qualify as an Observer/Air Gunner. Fortunately, he survived several air crashes and flying experiences during the remainder of the war, to return home and pass on many of those experiences to his son (also Robert Whitelaw). Dr. Whitelaw, himself having served as a Medical Officer in the RAF, now recalls some of those first-hand accounts heard from his father.
"My father was a pharmacist as his father was before him. When he was called up in 1914, the Army decided he would be a stretcher-bearer, presumably because he had letters after his name 'MPS' or member of the pharmaceutical society. When he arrived in France, he found his job was to go out into 'no man's land' after the enemy shelling or bombing had finished or subsided enough to assess the casualties. This meant giving a large dose of morphine to those who were not going to make it, and stretchering the others to the nearest field hospital.
He quickly realised that if he stayed where he was, his life expectancy would be very short. Therefore, when the top brass came around looking for volunteers for the newly-formed Royal Flying Corps, he promptly put his name down and was successful in being accepted.
I was not born until 1930, so I knew nothing of this, but fortunately my father liked to talk about his flying days, unlike many who would not speak about their experiences. As a result, 'the great war' was quite familiar to me from an early age. Two other things that happened reinforced those memories.
1) When I first visited Falkland Palace with my parents, the Guide kept watching my father and staying close to him. When the tour finished, he approached and said "You are Bob Whitelaw from Cupar aren't you? You carried me back when I lost my leg, and you helped me a lot." This led to a long chat about old times and WW1.
2) The other thing happened more recently when I attended RAF Leuchars Air Show. My father had spoken about flying all through WW1 in an RE8, and for the first time in my knowledge here was just a similar type of aeroplane on show.
The RE8 featured largely in all his stories during and after my childhood. He would give me eye-witness accounts of events in and around other aircraft including the 'Sopwith Camel' but his main interest had been the RE8 in which he survived three crash landings. On one occasion when one of the pilots (the C.O.) had crash-landed, the aircraft had finally come to a stop upside-down, with the pilot suspended by his straps and shouting for help to get him out. My father obliged by cutting through the straps resulting in the helpless pilot falling to the ground on his head. Realising that no serious injury had been sustained, my father had a good laugh which was not shared by the hapless C.O. who was quite angry at my father's reaction. I also recall so many memories of my father's accounts of characters such as the 'Red Baron' and other aviation legends of that period.
Built in Britain by the Royal Aircraft Factory, the RE (Reconnaissance Experimental) 8 was a two-seater multi-purpose biplane with forward and rear-firing machine-guns. It was first introduced into Royal Flying Corps service during late 1916 and used in artillery observation and night bombing roles. The aircraft was nicknamed the "Harry Tate". More than 4,000 RE-8s were built during the course of the war.
Although it was claimed to have a synchronised forward-firing .303-in Lewis gun and one or two Lewis guns on a Scarff ring in the observer's cockpit, my father observed several variations in the RE8s he flew. For example, he noted in some cases a Vickers .303 would be fitted. Also many incidents occurred where ammunition being fired ahead would damage propellor blades. The main air-gunners weapon used by my father was the Lewis Gun. He was an expert in dismantling, cleaning and assembling this gun, which I suppose was an essential skill where one's life depended on the efficiiency of the weapon. He certainly did mention however, that in the Observer's position on the RE8, the gun or guns were mounted on a Scarff ring. This was supposed to make handling easier and give support. To a certain extent this was true, but the RE8 was not a highly manoeuvreable aircraft, and when trying to follow the track of an enemy aircraft, it was quite a heavy cumbersome task swinging Lewis guns from one side of the cockpit to the other to get a sighting on target, even if mounted on a Scarff ring.
It was certainly to my advantage, that my father never seemed to tire of discussing his flying career. Otherwise how would I have known that early aircraft were prone to spinning, resulting in a number of accidents and the R.E.8 was grounded while a larger tailfin was designed. Also the maximum speed of the plane was 102 mph and service ceiling 13,500 ft. Rolls-Royce suffered a production shortage of their 'Eagle' aero engine which resulted in most R.E.8s being powered by the 150-hp (112 kW) Royal Aircraft Factory 4a air-cooled 12-cylinder in-line engine though some received the 200-hp (149 kW) RAF 4d engine and others had a Hispano-Suiza engine. It was a great relief to the crew, that the engine's exhaust outlet extended over the upper wing, so that the crew members were not exposed to exhaust fumes. Bomb load on the RE8 extended to 224 lb.
Although the RE8 eventually shared and accepted the role of bomber duties, like other early aircraft, its initial value was seen as simply an extension of the Army. Not surprising, as it had emerged from Royal Engineer roots, and was expected to immerse itself in range-finding for Allied guns and evaluating enemy troop movements; all these duties placing a heavy responsibility on the Observer. My father explained that during the early days when both Allied and German planes were purely engaged in reconaissance, it was quite common for aircraft of opposite combatant nations to pass each other side by side or in opposite direction, with no sign of aggressive action. Probably both sides realising they were simply carrying out routine reconaissance duties as requested by their respective superior officers, with no obvious need to interfere with the others' progress.
This situation, however, came to an abrupt halt, when one day a member of aircrew drew out his revolver and fired several shots at the passing aircraft. My father could not recall which nationality actually fired the first shot, but it does not require much imagination to realise how quickly matters would escalate into a free-for-all with a greater variety of weaponry coming into the fray. From that point on, the friendly co-existence of crews flying reconaissance aircraft took matters more seriously, and to emphasise the point, my father remarked frequently how his shoulders ached from swinging his Lewis guns from side to side to get enemy aircraft into his gun-sights.
When my father returned home from the First World War, he did not arrive alone. He brought with him among other wartime souvenirs, a propeller blade from one of his crashed RE8s. Unfortunately, my mother didn't share his enthusiasm for wartime memorabilia, and most of those relics mysteriously disappeared one by one during the passing of the post-WW1 years.
Coming up to WW2 in the late 1930s, a Luger pistol appeared within our family circle, but we were unable to find suitable ammunition to fire this gun. My father, eventually becoming an officer in the newly-formed Home Guard, discovered that Sten 9mm ammo fitted the Luger, which led to shooting sessions, without any claiming to be a crack-shot. Being an officer in the Home Guard with previous experience in handling weapons, my father along with his C.O. had access to many forms of firearms. One of those to my father's delight, being the Lewis Gun. It must have revived many memories from his WW1 wartime service, for he spoke many times of the care and maintenance of this weapon, and how its efficiency was vital in operational flying. It created some interest one day when he brought a Lewis Gun home, which he proceeded to strip down, clean and re-assemble in the living-room. My mother wasn't at all impressed and voiced her concern for the living-room carpet.
Another incident about this time occurred when my father's Home Guard C.O. arrived at our house, bringing along a 'Flying Flea' aircraft which he had built in kit form. Unfortunately, being a rather large, portly gentleman, he had been unable to persuade the plane to leave the ground. Remembering that my father weighed only about 9 stone and had previous flying experience, he hit on the idea of persuading my father to have a go at flying his small plane. The theory here being that my father's lighter fame would overcome the planes obstinate insistence on remaining earthbound. An added incentive for this idea being that he knew my father had a large field behind his garden. Anyhow, it didn't take much persuasion for my father to successfully urge the Flying Flea to leave the ground and complete a few circuits around the field, no doubt giving immediate neighbours a mini Airshow.
I am sure that having been brought up within the atmosphere of aviation history and listening to first-hand experiences from that history, all this influenced me to volunteer for the R.A.F. as a Medical Officer from 1956-1958, a very happy time in my life. When I was stationed at Bombing Trials Unit at West Freugh near Stranraer, I also had visiting duties at Air Sea Rescue Unit Drumore, also at Nig Bay where some of the Sunderland Flying Boats were moth-balled. I was also put in charge temporarily of the RAF Mountain Rescue Team for South Scotland. This probably came about because I used to spend my summer holidays as a pony-man at the deer stalking in the Scottish mountains climbing daily to 4,000 ft.
We flew Lincolns from West Freugh as well as Ansons, and also had a hybrid Lincoln with two piston engines along with two jet engines. I gathered from my friend Flt.Lt. Norman Beavis i/c flying, the aircraft was rather difficult to control. We also had occasional visits of Vulcans from Farnborough which I found very impressive, but our runway was too short to allow them to land. It was a measure of how close I was to the flying crews that when they got their only jet in the form of a Canberra, I was offered a place on the first flight (-no seat!). Instead of 30 minutes to reach operating height on the Lincolns, it seemed to take the Canberra only 5 minutes.
One of the few emergencies I was called to was when the adjutant phoned to tell me that one of the Lincolns had been flying for some time at 30,000 ft. with no heating. He felt that when they eventually landed, this was a suitable time to break open the medicinal brandy which was kept in Sick Quarters. I duly obliged, but was mortified to find that the demijohn contents consisted of cold tea! Clever deduction quickly found that the only time the bottle was allowed to leave Sick Quarters was when it went with the mountain rescue team - a rough lot!
The earlier publication "Well - You Wanted to Fly!" evoked memories with me, as the first day I visited Oman where my younger son was working co-incided with a display put on by the Red Arrows - this was greatly appreciated by the Omanis. Also, the stories from the Far East triggered memories from Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and Thailand where my middle daughter worked for some years. Modern flight plans, whether for business or pleasure are certainly far removed from the early days of aviation which I have attempted to recall from my father's eye-witness accounts of his own personal experiences.
When one considers the early advantages Britain had in being first in the field (or should it be 'air') with companies such as Austin Motors, Standard Motors, Siddley-Deasy, Coventry Ordnance Works and the Royal Aircraft Factory itself, all of whom had their share in building the RE8; stories of which my father never tired of telling, things have come a very long way since he undertook his flying duties. All R.E.8s were quickly retired after the war and only two survive today. The restoration of R.E.8 F3556 at the Imperial War Museum Duxford was completed in 2004. This aircraft, built by Daimler, had arrived in France on Armistice Day. The other surviving R.E.8 is in Brussels, Belgium.
A new dawning in military aviation arrived, when the Royal Air Force was formed on 1st April 1918. My father's recollections of his experience in the Royal Flying Corps will hopefully (along with thousands of other pioneers) be acknowledged in aviation history. Although laying the foundations for British military air-power, it is appreciated that their purely physical efforts have been replaced by technology and highly sophisticated machines and weaponry out of all recognitiion, and hardly imaginable during the early days.