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.