Donald Bunce was unhurt. The sea was rough and I was not certain that my torpedo would run properly. I chugged along at fifty feet but could not at first get close enough to drop it.'
Kingsmill turned back to make another run across the intense flak sent up by the destroyer screen. As he flew once again towards
Samples felt a burning sensation in his leg and when he looked down at his black flying boots he was astonished to see that in one there was a neat pattern like buttonholes. It was only when blood started spurting out of them that he realized he had been hit by machine-gun bullets. He felt no pain— only surprised interest. Gazing at his leg drilled with holes, he did not notice Kingsmill drop his torpedo aimed at
As Kingsmill's Swordfish, torn and shaken by flak, veered back once again over the destroyers, a shell sliced off the tops of two of the three cylinders of his engine, leaving him with hardly any power. He pulled the stick back, 'hanging on to the prop' to keep her aloft. With her fabric tattered like an old blanket, the plane began gradually sinking towards the water, when the engine burst into flames and the port wing caught fire. Both Kingsmill and Samples were wounded, but they were still in control and Bunce kept firing and screaming insults at the Germans. Kingsmill tried to shout to Samples through the voice pipe, not knowing it was shattered, to say he going to try and bring her back to base. Covered in blood, Samples managed to climb towards him and shout into his ear, 'We will never do it. Try and ditch near those friendly MTBs.'
He pointed to Pumphrey's MTBs, who were still in the area. Watching Esmonde's gallant Swordfish coming in wave-high, the MTBs realized that most of them would be shot down and the aircrews might need help if they ditched. So they cruised around out of range waiting to see what happened. The E-boats were also near. Kingsmill still kept his aircraft under control although she seemed to move as slowly as if flying through glue. As he staggered over the last E-boat, his engine finally died and he came down towards the sea.
Weaving a little above wave level, Sq. Ldr. Kingcombe watched Esmonde and his Swordfish attacking in two 'vics' of three. He said, 'I went down to 100 feet, clipping the bottom of the clouds, and we managed to keep most of the German fighters off them. The Germans were firing heavy guns which threw up great mountains of spray like water spouts. The Swordfish flew straight into them. Mostly they were caught by the
While the Swordfish crews were dying so heroically and uselessly, Brian Kingcombe's ten Spitfires equally courageously tried to prevent their massacre. Although they were jumped by dozens of German fighters, they gave an extremely good account of themselves. They had numerous dog-fights with Messerschmitts and Focke-Wolfes at odds of three-to-one.
Pilot Officer Ingham, Pilot Officer Bocock and Pilot Officer de Naeyer dived on some FW 190s, whose tracer was hitting one of the Swordfish. Her petrol tank blew up and the Swordfish disappeared before they could stop the attack, but Ingham managed to get one FW 190 in his sights and give it a long burst. It hit the sea trailing black smoke.
Pilot Officer Rutherford was flying at sea level when he saw the Swordfish turn to attack the
As the German plane lurched towards the water, three other FW 190s swooped on Rutherford, cannons firing. Ducking and weaving to avoid them he climbed into the low clouds. When he came out again he had lost the FWs — and also his own squadron. He came down to sea level to see patches of oil 300 yards away from where the first FW 190 had crashed into the sea. Near the oil he saw two men, clinging to a half-submerged dinghy. They were Brian Rose and Edgar Lee. At minute intervals, he made three 'Mayday' signals to summon help for them.
Kingsmill's burning plane, with the engine shot away, glided silently towards the water. The crew saw the second flight of three Swordfish, led by Sub-Lt. Thompson, approaching the
Thompson's three Swordfish limped on, their fuselages tattered canvas ribbons, their crews wounded or dying. Still maintaining a steady course, they flew into the red and orange wall of exploding shells. The three Swordfish with their nine young aircrew were never seen again. One after another, they were blown to pieces. Not a trace of any was ever found.
As Kingsmill's Swordfish, with blood dripping through rips in the fuselage, came down to ditch near a couple of boats which Samples had thought were MTBs, they opened fire. They were German E-boats. Samples paid for his mistake by receiving a bullet in his bottom, but Kingsmill managed to turn his plane away and land down near some small British ships which were coming towards them. Kingsmill recalls, 'I managed to put her down in what I now immodestly claim was a perfect landing. It was very choppy with quite big waves, but I felt no feeling of cold at all.'
Wearing their yellow life-jackets, they tried to haul themselves out of the cockpits. Kingsmill and Bunce jumped into the sea because their dinghy had been destroyed in the burning wing, but Samples went down with the plane. He had forgotten he had a G-string hooked between his legs to prevent his falling out when the plane rolled and turned. It dragged him down with the plane and, half-drowning, he fumbled to free himself. It seemed like hours, although it only took a few seconds before he managed to untie himself and float exhausted to the surface.
From the German battleships, the brave Fleet Air Arm fliers seemed like far-away dots. The ships saw their torpedoes running but swung away and all of them missed. From the bridge of
As he watched the tiny smoking specks falling into the sea through his binoculars, Captain Hoffmann muttered, 'Poor fellows. They are so very slow. It is nothing but suicide for them to fly against these big ships.'
Everyone on the battleships' bridges felt the same. As they watched the forlorn attack, the English coastline could be dimly and intermittentily seen from the German ships. Aboard
Navigator Giessler said, 'Such bravery was devoted and incredible. One was privileged to witness it. Although they were shot down by our anti-aircraft fire before they could get into position to release their loads, they knowingly and ungrudgingly gave their all to their country and went to their doom without hesitation.'
The heroic, incredible, Swordfish attack was over. As the last of the six torpedo planes blew up and splashed into the sea, the German fighters gave a victory roll over the ships before resuming their patrol. It was 12:45 p.m. They had only taken off twenty minutes before. The Germans could not believe it was finished.
There were only five survivors out of eighteen who had flown into the hail of fire. Brian Rose and Edgar Lee were crouched in their dinghy shivering from the freezing spray. With stiff fingers, Lee managed to fire a rocket, but when they saw an MTB approaching he was convinced it was a German boat. Then they heard English voices, and one of Hilary Gamble's MTB crew jumped overboard into the icy sea and tied the dinghy alongside their boat, while other sailors swarmed down to lift up the airmen. A few minutes later Rose was wrapped in a blanket and Lee, wearing a towel, was sipping the one drink he detests — rum.
A mine-sweeper saw KingsmiU's crew crash and raced over to them. They threw down a rope climbing net from the deck. When Bunce was trying to push Samples, who was badly wounded, on to the net, someone called out from the ship, 'If you're all right, sailor, climb aboard and leave him to us!' As he began to climb up, several of the ship's crew dived into the water and began hauling Kingsmill and Samples up the net.
