Shiny Two Stories - every now and again we'll add stories to give you a flavour of life on Shiny Two through the ages.
Reich for the Sky
Trawling the Internet for references to II (AC) can lead to the most inspiring "finds" and such a search provided the following as a reward. It is the tale of one of the nation's young men who, no doubt, inspired by all that was happening above his head in 1941 joined the RAF and after training was posted to II (AC) as a pilot.
By the standards of the time his story would have been regarded as "par for the course" but nowadays within the comfort of our so-called modern existance it is a timely reminder of what these blokes went through to earn us that comfort. His story gleaned from various sources has that added element of a happy twist to the ending but you will have to plough your way through to the conclusion to discover that its not only Hollywood that can tie things up so neatly and satisfactorily!
By the standards of the time his story would have been regarded as "par for the course" but nowadays within the comfort of our so-called modern existance it is a timely reminder of what these blokes went through to earn us that comfort. His story gleaned from various sources has that added element of a happy twist to the ending but you will have to plough your way through to the conclusion to discover that its not only Hollywood that can tie things up so neatly and satisfactorily!
Aged 17 years and 3 months when World War Two was declared, Doug Reich had to wait until January 1941 before his call-up papers dropped through the letterbox. He volunteered for the RAF and after passing the strict medical examinations and aptitude tests was declared to be a ripe candidate to undergo pilot training. However, before the "interesting" part of aircrew training could be undertaken there was the small matter of going through that process of being remodelled from callow civilian youth into a "military material". So it was that aged 19 Doug was posted to Torquay where he underwent the required conversion through a regime of fitness and military training.
14 Months later and Doug was declared ready to take the next step toward becoming a pilot. In March 1942 he received his orders and a posting a Canadian Flying Training School No transport aircraft in those days to whisk one across the Atlantic; the only way to go was by Troopship and then not by a direct route for U-boat activity was then particularly intense and a devious route of avoidance was taken that went via New York. Whether this was regarded as being an inconvenience following the austere existance of wartime Britain can only be surmised!
No. 4 Elementary Flying Training School (4 EFTS) was located at Windsor Mills, Quebec, some 90 miles from Montreal. It was a centre for initial flying training and used as its trainer the 'Fleet Finch' a 5-cylinder radial-engined bi-plane. After 5 hours and 20 minutes instruction Doug made his first solo flight and, in his own words, ".. made a lovely 3-point landing". Another 65 hours flying followed and another step toward qualification was made when he was posted to No. 13 Services Flying Training School (13 SFTS) at St-Hubert, 20 miles from Montreal.
Above: LAC Doug Reich about to make his first solo in a Fleet Finch of 4 EFTS in 1942.
Awaiting Doug at 13 SFTS was the North American Harvard, the advanced trainer of the day and an altogether a different animal from the Finch.
Once settled at St-Hubert it soon became clear to him that although he had successfully passed through initial flying training at Windor Mills that this was not necessarily a guarantee that things would get easier. Indeed, an instructor of Doug's was killed in a flying accident whilst flying with another pupil and soon Doug was to have his own moment of excitement when the engine of his Harvard caught fire.
He was ordered to bail out by his instructor and in accordance with the appropriate emergency procedure clambered out onto the wing to make his jump to safety. Once outside the comfort zone of the cockpit it was to discover that his parachute harness had been incorrectly adjusted and to have made the leap would have meant that he and his chute would have parted company prior to the ground coming up to meet them both. Given that the fire appeared to have gone out he made the sensible decision to climb back inside again and for the pilot to make a crash landing in a convenient cornfield!
14 Months later and Doug was declared ready to take the next step toward becoming a pilot. In March 1942 he received his orders and a posting a Canadian Flying Training School No transport aircraft in those days to whisk one across the Atlantic; the only way to go was by Troopship and then not by a direct route for U-boat activity was then particularly intense and a devious route of avoidance was taken that went via New York. Whether this was regarded as being an inconvenience following the austere existance of wartime Britain can only be surmised!
No. 4 Elementary Flying Training School (4 EFTS) was located at Windsor Mills, Quebec, some 90 miles from Montreal. It was a centre for initial flying training and used as its trainer the 'Fleet Finch' a 5-cylinder radial-engined bi-plane. After 5 hours and 20 minutes instruction Doug made his first solo flight and, in his own words, ".. made a lovely 3-point landing". Another 65 hours flying followed and another step toward qualification was made when he was posted to No. 13 Services Flying Training School (13 SFTS) at St-Hubert, 20 miles from Montreal.
Above: LAC Doug Reich about to make his first solo in a Fleet Finch of 4 EFTS in 1942.
Awaiting Doug at 13 SFTS was the North American Harvard, the advanced trainer of the day and an altogether a different animal from the Finch.
Once settled at St-Hubert it soon became clear to him that although he had successfully passed through initial flying training at Windor Mills that this was not necessarily a guarantee that things would get easier. Indeed, an instructor of Doug's was killed in a flying accident whilst flying with another pupil and soon Doug was to have his own moment of excitement when the engine of his Harvard caught fire.
He was ordered to bail out by his instructor and in accordance with the appropriate emergency procedure clambered out onto the wing to make his jump to safety. Once outside the comfort zone of the cockpit it was to discover that his parachute harness had been incorrectly adjusted and to have made the leap would have meant that he and his chute would have parted company prior to the ground coming up to meet them both. Given that the fire appeared to have gone out he made the sensible decision to climb back inside again and for the pilot to make a crash landing in a convenient cornfield!
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Left: Trainee LAC Reich and Instructor F/O Tompson with crashed Harvard
Right: Even the Farmer's Daughter knew there was something not quite right about the parachute!
The crash took place well away from civilisation albeit that a farm was seen nearby and help was at hand. It was late at night before they made their way back to St-Hubert.
With no further mishaps Doug went on to complete the course with a total of 220 hours flying time including 30 hours night flying. Having stayed the course there was no hesitation in declaring him competant and so qualified he received a commission in the rank of Pilot Officer (P/O) and returned to England in December 1942.
His first stop in the UK was to the Operational Training Unit (OTU) at RAF Hawarden in North Wales there to make the conversion onto the North American Mustang; an 8 machine-gunned fighter. The course at the OTU was to last a further 4 months but come the end he received his orders to proceed to RAF Sawbridgeworth and there to report to No. II (AC) Sqn to begin a career as a reconnaissance pilot.
Once at Sawbridgeworth Doug settled down to the business of being the eyes of the Army .. or anyone else who had a need to know what was happening over the other side of the English Channel. So it was from the first sortie of reconnaissance on shipping dotted around the Friesien Islands off the Dutch coast to missions of keeping an eye on enemy activity further south along the fringes of Northern France there was one aspect that was always a common denominator, the mission was always conducted "Low down and close in!"
Right: Even the Farmer's Daughter knew there was something not quite right about the parachute!
The crash took place well away from civilisation albeit that a farm was seen nearby and help was at hand. It was late at night before they made their way back to St-Hubert.
With no further mishaps Doug went on to complete the course with a total of 220 hours flying time including 30 hours night flying. Having stayed the course there was no hesitation in declaring him competant and so qualified he received a commission in the rank of Pilot Officer (P/O) and returned to England in December 1942.
His first stop in the UK was to the Operational Training Unit (OTU) at RAF Hawarden in North Wales there to make the conversion onto the North American Mustang; an 8 machine-gunned fighter. The course at the OTU was to last a further 4 months but come the end he received his orders to proceed to RAF Sawbridgeworth and there to report to No. II (AC) Sqn to begin a career as a reconnaissance pilot.
Once at Sawbridgeworth Doug settled down to the business of being the eyes of the Army .. or anyone else who had a need to know what was happening over the other side of the English Channel. So it was from the first sortie of reconnaissance on shipping dotted around the Friesien Islands off the Dutch coast to missions of keeping an eye on enemy activity further south along the fringes of Northern France there was one aspect that was always a common denominator, the mission was always conducted "Low down and close in!"
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Left: Sept 23rd 1943 - Doug returning from ops over France.
(Photo taken by F/O Leah who was later killed when flying a Typhoon.)
Right: Sawbridgeworth 1943 - Doug waiting to go on operation. There was a delay to the sortie as his companion aircraft being flown by F/L Kenning had to be replaced as Kenning had inadvisedly cocked his 0.5 machine guns during the taxi, had hit a bump and shot holes in his propeller!
Over the next 12 months Doug made many friends and fellowships whilst all the while building up his experience and reputation as both a reliable wingman and leader.
Indeed, his skills became so valuable that, to his discomfort, he found himself regarded as being an asset as a "reserve experienced pilot" and in May 1944 was sent off with two other pilots to RAF Aston Down, near Bristol to be available to replace expected losses from the yet-to-be-announced invasion of France. Not what he wanted to be doing at all!
With D-Day approaching and much excitement being generated along with an equal amount of frustration at not being part of what was clearly happening around them, Doug "borrowed" a Spitfire which was awaiting delivery and made an excursion to Gatwick where the squadron was providing support for the impending invasion. On arrival he was able to plead his case to the CO - Sqn Ldr Mike Gray - to be posted back to the squadron and it was a few days later that he received the message that he hoped to hear that his wish had been granted and on the 13th June 1944 once again he joined II (AC) Sqn.
There was no doubt that life following the invasion had become decidedly hotter for on the day following his return to the squadron he was given a mission of utmost importance, albeit, there were mixed priorities to be managed. Doug recalls:
"I had actually been tasked that day to locate and confirm the whereabouts of a particular German Armoured Column. The squadron Army liaison officer, a Capt. Wilson, knowing the area where I was tasked to fly asked if I could do him "a little favour". He told me that the Sappers who were constructing the Advanced Landing Fields (ALFs) had not enjoyed any fresh bread since the invasion and as I was passing by could I drop off a few loaves before I continued with my misison. They would refuel me for my trouble"
So it was that Doug sat in his aircraft waiting for permission to take off when a van from the Mess pulled up. With little ceremony a consigment of bread was heaved into the cockpit and contrary to the few loaves he had been led to expect by the time the consignment was loaded the number of loaves he had on his lap and around the remaining spaces in the cockpit meant he could hardly see the instrument panel!
With its unlikely load the Mustang made it into the air and keeping a wary eye out for enemy activity and the location of the ALF a transit of the English Channel was made. A visual was made on the strip and with little ceremony Doug quickly landed on the virgin airfield and in a cloud of dust taxied to the end looking out for his "hosts". There was nobody to be seen. He turned the aircraft around and creating a similar amount of airborne debris swiftly taxied back to the other end with still no sign of life apparent .. until a few heads popped out of a slit trench alongside the strip. Doug was quickly appraised by the startled Sappers that he had in fact landed at the wrong strip and they hadn't actually finished constructing the one he had so rudely churned up. He thanked them for their advice and compensated them for the furrows he had dug with a few loaves. (Doubtless any suspicions that the PBI (Poor Bloody Infantry) had about the reputation, purpose and the aims of the RAF were given even more of a jolt by the encounter!)
He took off once more - now better able to see the instrument panel - and quickly established the ALF where he should have landed. His reception there was a little more friendly and the transaction of bread for fuel was quickly conducted allowing Doug to get away to do the real job.
As a reminder that the task wasn't just about making bread deliveries after he had successfully located the armoured column he found himself the focus of attention by the enemy when his section of 2 aircraft was attacked by Focke Wolf 190 fighters. He managed to get back safely to Gatwick thereby avoiding the fate of his chum Ivor Harris who had been shot down the previous week when undertaking a similar task and who was now a prisoner of war.
The mission on June 15 was to attack ferry boats taking German troops across the River Seine on their way to reinforce the defences of the now allied-occupied beaches. The aircraft with which the squadron was now equipped was the NA Mustang Mk 1A, a deritive fitted with four 20mm cannons.
The target was located at Caudebec, a point on the Seine between Le Havre and Rouen. The first ferryboat was attacked whilst it was on the far bank and the approach was such that Doug was lower than the deck. The effect of the cannons was devastating and the ferry boat was severely damaged. He then pulled up to a thousand feet and saw another boat moored on the bank just crossed. A dive at full throttle and a burst of fire and then from very low down a steep turn left was made over the bank of the river.
That was the last recollection Doug had of the attack. Indeed, his next conscious moment was to wake up nine hours later in a small hospital at Caudebec under the watchful eye of a German guard.
He learned that a French fishing crew had pulled him unconscious from the water, some six hours after going in. In his own words, "As I was strapped in the cockpit with my safety harness tight and locked, and doing some 300 miles an hour, some might say I was rather fortunate to survive. I think what saved me was the fact that I always partially inflated my Mae West on an operation and that kept me floating in the water for six hours even though I was unconscious. In the crash I banged my head which gave me severe concussion; my left leg below the knee was a bit battered and was swollen to twice its size and I had burst all the blood vessels in my eyes, so not so bad considering".
Doug was transferred to hospital in Paris and with his blurred eye-sight eventually improving it was some 3 weeks later he was declared fit enough to be sent to a Luftwaffe Interrogation Camp there to begin the process of becoming a Prisoner of War. As he was marched in with other flyers who had also been unfortunate to have been captured he was surprised to see his old chum Ivor Harris who was already undergoing interrogation. Although they caught each other's eye they were smart enough not to show any recognition given that their captors would have surely capitalised on the fact they had two prisoners who might be susceptable to being manipulated in the quest for meaningful information.
They both survived the questioning and after due process were sent to different prison camps; Stalag Luft 1 "Barth" on the Baltic coast for Doug and for Ivor Stalag Luft 3, the scene of the "Great Escape" the previous year. For them, the war was over and Doug was to stay put until May 1st 1945 when the Russian advance spread westward to his location and the camp was liberated.
He was eventually flown back to UK in a B-17 and then sent to a rehabilitation unit situated at RAF Cosford. Doug recalled that amongst the "benefits" that were bestowed upon returning POWs by a grateful nation was that the ration books with which they were issued were the same as those given to expectant mothers, the rationale being that the authorities believed that after their ordeal they needed a bit of building up!
Below: Identity Photo of F/O Reich
taken by the German Military at Stalag Luft I “Barth” East Prussia (1944)
(Photo taken by F/O Leah who was later killed when flying a Typhoon.)
Right: Sawbridgeworth 1943 - Doug waiting to go on operation. There was a delay to the sortie as his companion aircraft being flown by F/L Kenning had to be replaced as Kenning had inadvisedly cocked his 0.5 machine guns during the taxi, had hit a bump and shot holes in his propeller!
Over the next 12 months Doug made many friends and fellowships whilst all the while building up his experience and reputation as both a reliable wingman and leader.
Indeed, his skills became so valuable that, to his discomfort, he found himself regarded as being an asset as a "reserve experienced pilot" and in May 1944 was sent off with two other pilots to RAF Aston Down, near Bristol to be available to replace expected losses from the yet-to-be-announced invasion of France. Not what he wanted to be doing at all!
With D-Day approaching and much excitement being generated along with an equal amount of frustration at not being part of what was clearly happening around them, Doug "borrowed" a Spitfire which was awaiting delivery and made an excursion to Gatwick where the squadron was providing support for the impending invasion. On arrival he was able to plead his case to the CO - Sqn Ldr Mike Gray - to be posted back to the squadron and it was a few days later that he received the message that he hoped to hear that his wish had been granted and on the 13th June 1944 once again he joined II (AC) Sqn.
There was no doubt that life following the invasion had become decidedly hotter for on the day following his return to the squadron he was given a mission of utmost importance, albeit, there were mixed priorities to be managed. Doug recalls:
"I had actually been tasked that day to locate and confirm the whereabouts of a particular German Armoured Column. The squadron Army liaison officer, a Capt. Wilson, knowing the area where I was tasked to fly asked if I could do him "a little favour". He told me that the Sappers who were constructing the Advanced Landing Fields (ALFs) had not enjoyed any fresh bread since the invasion and as I was passing by could I drop off a few loaves before I continued with my misison. They would refuel me for my trouble"
So it was that Doug sat in his aircraft waiting for permission to take off when a van from the Mess pulled up. With little ceremony a consigment of bread was heaved into the cockpit and contrary to the few loaves he had been led to expect by the time the consignment was loaded the number of loaves he had on his lap and around the remaining spaces in the cockpit meant he could hardly see the instrument panel!
With its unlikely load the Mustang made it into the air and keeping a wary eye out for enemy activity and the location of the ALF a transit of the English Channel was made. A visual was made on the strip and with little ceremony Doug quickly landed on the virgin airfield and in a cloud of dust taxied to the end looking out for his "hosts". There was nobody to be seen. He turned the aircraft around and creating a similar amount of airborne debris swiftly taxied back to the other end with still no sign of life apparent .. until a few heads popped out of a slit trench alongside the strip. Doug was quickly appraised by the startled Sappers that he had in fact landed at the wrong strip and they hadn't actually finished constructing the one he had so rudely churned up. He thanked them for their advice and compensated them for the furrows he had dug with a few loaves. (Doubtless any suspicions that the PBI (Poor Bloody Infantry) had about the reputation, purpose and the aims of the RAF were given even more of a jolt by the encounter!)
He took off once more - now better able to see the instrument panel - and quickly established the ALF where he should have landed. His reception there was a little more friendly and the transaction of bread for fuel was quickly conducted allowing Doug to get away to do the real job.
As a reminder that the task wasn't just about making bread deliveries after he had successfully located the armoured column he found himself the focus of attention by the enemy when his section of 2 aircraft was attacked by Focke Wolf 190 fighters. He managed to get back safely to Gatwick thereby avoiding the fate of his chum Ivor Harris who had been shot down the previous week when undertaking a similar task and who was now a prisoner of war.
The mission on June 15 was to attack ferry boats taking German troops across the River Seine on their way to reinforce the defences of the now allied-occupied beaches. The aircraft with which the squadron was now equipped was the NA Mustang Mk 1A, a deritive fitted with four 20mm cannons.
The target was located at Caudebec, a point on the Seine between Le Havre and Rouen. The first ferryboat was attacked whilst it was on the far bank and the approach was such that Doug was lower than the deck. The effect of the cannons was devastating and the ferry boat was severely damaged. He then pulled up to a thousand feet and saw another boat moored on the bank just crossed. A dive at full throttle and a burst of fire and then from very low down a steep turn left was made over the bank of the river.
That was the last recollection Doug had of the attack. Indeed, his next conscious moment was to wake up nine hours later in a small hospital at Caudebec under the watchful eye of a German guard.
He learned that a French fishing crew had pulled him unconscious from the water, some six hours after going in. In his own words, "As I was strapped in the cockpit with my safety harness tight and locked, and doing some 300 miles an hour, some might say I was rather fortunate to survive. I think what saved me was the fact that I always partially inflated my Mae West on an operation and that kept me floating in the water for six hours even though I was unconscious. In the crash I banged my head which gave me severe concussion; my left leg below the knee was a bit battered and was swollen to twice its size and I had burst all the blood vessels in my eyes, so not so bad considering".
Doug was transferred to hospital in Paris and with his blurred eye-sight eventually improving it was some 3 weeks later he was declared fit enough to be sent to a Luftwaffe Interrogation Camp there to begin the process of becoming a Prisoner of War. As he was marched in with other flyers who had also been unfortunate to have been captured he was surprised to see his old chum Ivor Harris who was already undergoing interrogation. Although they caught each other's eye they were smart enough not to show any recognition given that their captors would have surely capitalised on the fact they had two prisoners who might be susceptable to being manipulated in the quest for meaningful information.
They both survived the questioning and after due process were sent to different prison camps; Stalag Luft 1 "Barth" on the Baltic coast for Doug and for Ivor Stalag Luft 3, the scene of the "Great Escape" the previous year. For them, the war was over and Doug was to stay put until May 1st 1945 when the Russian advance spread westward to his location and the camp was liberated.
He was eventually flown back to UK in a B-17 and then sent to a rehabilitation unit situated at RAF Cosford. Doug recalled that amongst the "benefits" that were bestowed upon returning POWs by a grateful nation was that the ration books with which they were issued were the same as those given to expectant mothers, the rationale being that the authorities believed that after their ordeal they needed a bit of building up!
Below: Identity Photo of F/O Reich
taken by the German Military at Stalag Luft I “Barth” East Prussia (1944)
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Doug was to leave the RAF in January 1946 and having said his goodbyes to Ivor when he fleetingly crossed his path when they were both passing through RAF Uxbridge he settled down to a less dramatic existance in civvy street and began to make a career as a Printer. It was in this profession from which he eventually retired and now, aged 83, together with his wife, lives in Conway, North Wales. A spritely fellow, he until a couple of years back indulged in his love of speed with the ownership of an Austin-Healey sports car (albeit that he has recently handed over the keys to his son!)
Left:Doug in 1977 sitting at the wheel of his Austin-Healey Of Ivor and the others, not a word despite the initial good intentions they made of trying to keep in touch... ..however, at the recent 93rd Birthday Celebrations at RAF Marham I was honoured to meet Ivor Harris and to discuss times past and his experiences. I mentioned as a by-the-way that I had made contact with another chap of his era, a certain Doug Reich. Needless to say that much joy was expressed by Ivor that his comrade from 60 years previous had been tracked down and I'm pleased to report that having supplied the necessary details that they have both been in touch with each other and plans are being made to meet somewhere that is convenient to them both. Hopefully, I will be able to close out this saga with a report of a successful engagement and a conclusion that provides a neat happy ending to this tale. (Clive Brooks) |
