I think my crew was lucky to
be assigned P.O. Blanks as our Captain and Screen
Pilot during the last stage
of our training at 20 OTU
Lossiemouth. Blanks was a big bluff man who stood out in
a crowd. He oozed confidence and was a
born leader. His means of transport was a noisy
motorcycle. Had I been asked I would have described him as
every inch an officer but definitely not a gentleman. He was
too earthy and forthright to be considered for the
latter category.
The first daylight exercise my
crew carried out with P.O. Blanks was on 24.4.42.
The initial leg took us over the sea where we tracked
close to some naval vessels. The navy had a habit of using
RAF machines for live target
practice so we were always cautious not to
cross their path. The ships were well to starboard but Blanks
insisted I fire off a colour of the day. Shortly after we
saw more naval ships and although not in close
proximity Blanks ordered another colour of the day to be
fired. This was my second and last cartridge
and I was hoping we wouldn't
meet any more naval craft. Suddenly a sprog
pilot from the local Spifire OTU started to buzz us. Again I was
ordered to use the Verey
pistol. Blanks face was a picture when I
told him I had only brought two cartridges along for the
exercise. He immediately ordered the
employment of the Aldis lamp
to signal to the Spitfire which continued to swan around
us. Morse wasn't my bag. I had last used it
at Bombing and Gunnery School
when qualifying as an observer. A friendly
instructor had told me in my final exam that he was passing me
out in Morse although I had only reached a speed
of five words per minute instead
of the required eight. My Aldis lamp
work was even worse. I was always on extra
instruction. I hadn't the heart to tell Blanks
this. While searching for the
Aldis lamp stowage I was desperately
trying to work out the morse alphabet for a more
forceful version of "Push Off". Then I had a flash
of inspiration. The chances were that neither Blanks nor the
sprog pilot would understand morse
anyway. With renewed confidence I plugged the lamp in and
triggered off a series of rapid
meaningless long and short flashes through the
astrodome to the Spitfire which was now hovering high on
our starboard quarter. Obviously not
wishing to become involved it sheared off and Blanks seemed
satisfied with my prowess with the Aldis lamp. I
always carried a minimum of six Verey Cartridges
whenever I flew with Blanks after that.
Lossiemouth was an uneven grass airfield
in those days. We landed and taxied towards the
dispersal. Blanks kicked open the entrance hatch and hovered
over it relieving himself through the opening.
The Wimpy was swaying from side to side and large
splashes were deposited at the edges of the hatch. This was
unbeknown to me. When I came to descend
the ladder with my bag of navigation
instruments I put a hand out to steady myself and encountered a
patch of Blank's kidney juice. I soon learned
to climb down the ladder with both hands tight to my side when
flying with P.O. Blanks. He was first into the transport
and sat next to the WAAF
driver. As we careered along there were several violent
swerves accompanied by exclamations from the WAAF driver
of, "Ooh Mr. Blanks".
Although my first encounter with Blanks might
have led me to the conclusion
that he was a trifle nervous in the air subsequent flights
proved to me that he had nerves of steel. On night
exercises once we had started on the first leg
he would fold the second pilot's seat out of the way, settle
down on the step underneath, unplug his intercom and go to
sleep, having first given instructions that he was
only to be awakened in an emergency. Bearing
in mind that he was flying in a very mountainous area with a
sprog crew, the pilot and navigator having only a total of about
two hundred hours flying experience
apiece he was either very brave or had placed his
trust in God.
A contemporary of mine, Sgt Geoff Collins was WOP
with another crew which had
Blanks as their screen. In a POW Camp in
Germany Geoff told me that they were on a night exercise and
Blanks was fast asleep when dense clouds
of smoke started to pour out of the radio receiver. Geoff
immediately called up the captain on the
intercom. The pilot managed to wake Blanks who
plugged in his intercom demanding to be told why he had
been disturbed. To Geoff's frantic statement that his radio set
was on fire Blanks command was terse and to the
point. "Piss on it", he said, as he settled
down to resume his interrupted sleep. The smoke subsided
without Geoff having to comply with his instruction. The night
exercise was completed with a completely dead radio.
One night we were coming up to the coastline and via a
pinpoint I had just realised we were twelve
miles south of track. At this inopportune moment Blanks woke up
and was peering over my shoulder at
the map demanding to know where we
were. He brushed my embarrassment to one side by saying that I
knew where I was which was the most
important point and that I should give the pilot an
immediate course correction. I appreciated his
consideration and encouraging attitude. There was more to
the man than just bluster.
On Tuesday 8th September 1942 at 0345 hours Wellington Mk
1 c T2913 ZTB captained by No. 106144 F/Lt T.V.G. Blanks crashed
at Longmorn, south east of Elgin aerodrome. It must have been a
rude awakening for poor old
Blanks. One crew member was killed and five injured.
F/Lt Blanks suffered serious injuries. I don't know his
subsequent fate. I only hope that he
survived the war. He deserved to.
Written by Don Bruce - Observer
115 Squadron -POW Stalag VIIIB
©
Jean Darley 2008. Please respect the copyright.
This is an article that my father
has written and is included in his compilation of 115 Squadron's
Roll of Honour.
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