In September 2018 David was published again in Britain at War magazine. Here's the full article, in its unabridged version:
The morning of 16 May 1942 would start like any other day in war-weary Plymouth. The local population were trying to regain some semblance of normality during a respite from the ravages of an intensive Blitz. The ferocious German air raids had ceased for a while because the Luftwaffe were, thankfully, preoccupied in the sky over Russia. Plymouth Sound was busy with shipping. Several merchant vessels were anchored in Jennycliff Bay, waiting to join a convoy. Massive Sunderland seaplanes were tracking across the Sound and taking off to fight the U-boat menace. A pair of boom defence vessels were scurrying across the entrances and exits of the breakwater, opening and closing the protective booms to regular shipping.
The morning of 16 May 1942 would start like any other day in war-weary Plymouth. The local population were trying to regain some semblance of normality during a respite from the ravages of an intensive Blitz. The ferocious German air raids had ceased for a while because the Luftwaffe were, thankfully, preoccupied in the sky over Russia. Plymouth Sound was busy with shipping. Several merchant vessels were anchored in Jennycliff Bay, waiting to join a convoy. Massive Sunderland seaplanes were tracking across the Sound and taking off to fight the U-boat menace. A pair of boom defence vessels were scurrying across the entrances and exits of the breakwater, opening and closing the protective booms to regular shipping.
Simultaneously, in occupied France, the Luftwaffe airfield at Beaumont-le-Roger was also a hive of activity. Six German jagdbomber, or fighter bomber, pilots from 10/JG2 walked across the field and stepped onto the single hard runway before climbing into their waiting Messerschmitt Bf 109F-4Bs. The level of experience of these Luftwaffe pilots ranged from the tested and capable Staffelkapitän, down to the young pilot just out of Jagdfliegervorschule, or German fighter pilot school. The young airmen were about to embark on a raid which has largely been forgotten in the historiography of Plymouth at war, but is remembered by the few who witnessed it as the Battle of Cawsand Bay.
Low cloud clung around the natural amphitheatre of Plymouth Sound. The temperature was mild and the sky was hazy. The five anchored merchant vessels were building up a head of steam. The modified W-class destroyer HMS Wolverine was loitering amongst the merchantmen and would act as a convoy escort. HMS Cleveland and HMS Brocklesby were preparing to let go all lines and slip their berths in Devonport Dockyard. Both vessels were part of the Royal Navy’s Fifteenth Flotilla and were scheduled to embark on exercises in the Plymouth areas that morning.
The six Messerschmitts thundered low over the French coast. The aircraft had only been airborne for a matter of minutes as the Cotentin Peninsula's rugged outline appeared and then sprinted off aft. The aircraft had landed to embark fuel and then taken off again from one of the forward most airfields – either Cherbourg-Theville or Cherbourg-Querqueville. This final fuel stop would allow the raiding aircraft valuable minutes when on target across the Channel, before having to return. Twenty-year-old Leutnant Hans-Joachim Schulz had only just passed out of Jagdfliegervorschule at the end of March 1942. The young pilot now flew his Bf 109, side number Blue 8, towards England with his katschmarek, or wingman, at close quarters. The experienced Schwarmführer was out in front with his wingman. Another pair of aircraft were similarly orientated to port. Guernsey and Alderney hurtled out of the sea mist, rapidly passing down the aircraft’s port and starboard sides. The Schwärme were following their boss's lead in a well-practised plan of attack.
From early spring 1942 until the summer of 1943, the Luftwaffe embarked on a type of air raid which the British would call the ‘Tip and Run’ campaign. German single seat fighter aircraft would fly to the limit of their endurance from bases in occupied France in an attempt to attack locations of strategic importance up and down the south coast of England. Attacks were wide-ranging and were not just limited to towns and cities like Folkestone, Hastings, Deal, Brighton, Rye and Plymouth. The intelligence department of Der Oberbefehlshaber der Luftwaffe (Supreme Commander) provided pilots with detailed topographical charts and local information when assigning targets. The charts for Plymouth were amazingly detailed. For maximum impact, the fighter aircraft were deployed with single SC250 or multiple SC50 bombs. The ‘SC’ stood for Sprengbombe Cylindrisch, or cylindrical busting bomb, in English. The numerals corresponded to the bombs’ weight in kilos. The bombs carried on this day were thin-walled, general purpose high-explosive bombs for use against soft targets. The Bf 109 was not a bomber aircraft. New bombing tactics and techniques had to be practised by the German pilots.
From March 1941, experienced Luftwaffe fighter pilot Frank Liesendahl developed and instructed a method of fast and low, close formation flying, combined with dropping bombs. The technique would become known as the Liesendahl Verfahren. Luftwaffe fighter bomber pilot Oberst Erhard Nippa once said that the new Jabo (fighter-bomber) attacks were a “kind of martial art”. Pilots practised the low-level, 45-degree angle dives and bomb drops against barges and shipwrecks moored on the Seine Estuary, off Le Havre. The Jabo Staffel 10/JG2 (Richthofen) was formed in early March 1942. Under the guidance of Staffelkapitan Liesendahl, the flight claimed to have sunk twenty Allied merchant vessels totalling 63,000 tons, within the first three months of its conception. Each one of the staffel, or squadron, displayed the same ship kill markings as Liesendahl’s aircraft. This suggests the markings on the aircraft’s yellow tail rudder were a staffel scoreboard rather than indications of individual successes. The staffel emblem painted on the engine cowling was a red fox clamping a broken merchant vessel in its jaws.
Just after midday, the two Hunt Class Type I Escort Destroyers, Cleveland and Brocklesby, slipped from No. 1 Wharf at Devonport and headed down the Hamoaze, past the boom defence at Devil’s Point and out through the Narrows. Following standard procedure, both vessels went to action stations. Gun crews closed up on their weapons and all upper deck screen doors and hatches were closed. Royal Navy gunners Able Seaman John Trevor Norridge and Able Seaman James (Sandy) Ahern manned Brocklesby’s quick-firing 2-pounder naval gun, universally known as the Pom Pom gun. On board Cleveland, Able Seaman William Elderfield and Able Seaman Stanley Gillham were also closed up and ready for action up on their Pom Pom. With Cleveland leading, the warships rounded Drake’s Island and headed for the swept channel leading out of the western exit of Plymouth Breakwater. Schulz and his five comrades were hurtling past the Eddystone Lighthouse, just fourteen miles from Plymouth and closing fast.
The terrifying spectacle which took place over the course of around five minutes was witnessed by servicemen at several locations dotted around Plymouth Sound. All the documented accounts vary, depending on the line of sight the witness had at the time. Commander Guy Bourchier Sayer was Cleveland’s commanding officer on this day. Sayer said, “Just as we turned into the swept channel round the western end of the Breakwater we heard, away to seaward the sound of several aircraft engines – very low and very fast. The time was 12:44.”
Plymouth Sound, and the convoy vessels anchored within, may have seemed an ideal target for German intelligence. However, the confines of Plymouth Sound were extremely well covered by several light and heavy anti-aircraft batteries. The numerous defences were augmented by many barrage balloons positioned at varying heights, attached to surrounding hills, vessels and the breakwater. Only a very skilful, quick surprise attack could have got through the defences. This outcome was supported by a detailed operations report written the day after the attack by the commander of the 55 Anti-Aircraft Brigade, from his headquarters at Redruth in Cornwall. The report said, “At 12:50 hours between three and six ME 109’s approached Plymouth Sound from the South.” It transpires that no early warning was received.
The first the GOR (Gun Operations Room) knew of the attack was a report from the NALO (Naval Air Liaison Officer) at 12:50. All anti-aircraft units in the GDA (Gun Defended Area) were immediately given the order to take post, but the raid had already started and was only minutes away from being over. The only anti-aircraft position to see any of the German aircraft was the ZAA rocket battery located in position Z3, which was situated at the top of Mount Edgcumbe. Even then, this unit only got a fleeting glimpse of one aircraft at around 400 feet.
A good example of a differing viewpoint is Anti-Aircraft Intelligence Summary No 82. The report states in a section headed ‘Diary of Enemy Activity 16 May’ – “Two ME 109’s approached Plymouth at 400 feet from the South East and diving to 100 feet dropped two bombs in the sea and machine gunned Breakwater Fort and nearby merchant vessel.” The AA report continues – “No aircraft entered Plymouth Sound and they were out of range of Light Anti-Aircraft defences. They were also not seen by Heavy Anti-Aircraft sites and no warning was given.”
On 16 May, Reg Burrage was a Royal Air Force serviceman stationed at the flying boat base at RAF Mount Batten. Burrage recalls: “During luncheon stand-down and without any prior warning, there arose a considerable rattle of gunfire and the sound of exploding bombs.” As the aircraft streaked low over the eastern end of the Breakwater, Cleveland was the first vessel to engage. Sayer ordered Cleveland’s 4-inch guns to open fire with a full-deflection salvo. The rounds missed the aircraft and thundered into the cliff face below Staddon Heights.
Detailed documents held at the National Archives contain a hand-drawn chart which indicates the track taken by each of the three pairs of aircraft. Over the years there has been much conjecture as to how many German aircraft were actually present at the attack. Some reports say two or four aircraft and others say six. There were indeed six aircraft present during the raid. On approach to Plymouth Sound, the six Messerschmitts split into three pairs, each pair known as a Rotte and led by a Rottenführer. The confusion as to the number of aircraft stems from the line of sight of the units reporting the attack and the poor visibility on the day. The chart shows that the leading two aircraft did not enter the Sound. They peeled away to port very early on in the attack and headed back to France. The remaining four aircraft did cross the Breakwater and entered Plymouth Sound. From his vantage point outside the officers’ mess at RAF Mount Batten, Burrage recalls seeing one of the barrage balloons attached to the Breakwater descend in flames after being shot by one of the jagdbombers.
Once into the confines of Plymouth Sound, the aircraft kept to the starboard side and headed towards the anchored convoy vessels at Jennycliff. Using their machine guns to strafe the ships, the pilots dropped their bombs over the convoy vessels. A report from C-in-C Plymouth, Admiral Charles M. Forbes written at 17:40 that evening details what happened. Two bombs narrowly missed the merchant ship SS Torkel, which was attached to Echo Buoy, just off the Breakwater. The boom defence vessel BV7 acquired damage from near misses. Wolverine sustained considerable shock bomb damage akin to an explosion a little greater than a shallow setting depth charge. As a consequence of the attack, one crewman, Able Seaman James D. Kennedy, was killed.
Two days after the attack, Wolverine’s commanding officer, Lt. Peter William Gretton, wrote to C-in-C Plymouth to provide his account of the damage incurred by Wolverine: “One bomb missed well astern, the other bounced over the ship and fell in a position about fifteen yards on the starboard side abreast the engine room. The bomb exploded at a depth of less than fifty feet.” The weight of the bomb was estimated as being no more than 250kg and a delayed action variant. The bridge card from the merchant vessel Torkel provides a more revealing assessment of the attack on her: “Attacked by aircraft. Superficial damage by cannon and machine gun fire. One minor casualty treated in hospital.”
Two days after the attack, Wolverine’s commanding officer, Lt. Peter William Gretton, wrote to C-in-C Plymouth to provide his account of the damage incurred by Wolverine: “One bomb missed well astern, the other bounced over the ship and fell in a position about fifteen yards on the starboard side abreast the engine room. The bomb exploded at a depth of less than fifty feet.” The weight of the bomb was estimated as being no more than 250kg and a delayed action variant. The bridge card from the merchant vessel Torkel provides a more revealing assessment of the attack on her: “Attacked by aircraft. Superficial damage by cannon and machine gun fire. One minor casualty treated in hospital.”
After dropping their bombs, the second pair of aircraft altered course to starboard and headed back out to sea. Burrage remembers seeing the two remaining Bf 109s twisting and turning at low altitude, caught in the limited airspace of the Sound. Schulz and his katschmarek were now hopelessly confined inside a hornet’s nest. Both pilots had released their bombs and pressed home their attack with machine gun in an attempt to escape. Schulz’s wingman opened his throttle and swept round to port. As his Messerschmitt passed closer to Cleveland, the destroyer opened up with all available close-range weapons. The Bf 109 was hit hard. Sayer said, “He was last seen losing height and wobbling badly as he staggered off into the mist.” Although Cleveland was officially credited with the destruction of this aircraft, it has never been conclusively proven that the pilot ditched in the Channel.
Young Hans-Joachim Schulz did not commit to such a tight turn. His aircraft flew closer to Brocklesby. Diving towards the destroyer, Schulz sprayed the warship with machine gun fire. Three crewmen on board Brocklesby were wounded and a hole was made in her funnel. Pom Pom gunner, twenty-one-year-old Trevor Norridge and fellow gunner James Ahern were both injured. Norridge was shot right through his left thigh and suffered a moderate loss of blood and a degree of shock. Ahern was also hit but not as seriously as Norridge.
As Schulz passed over Brocklesby, the Cleveland shifted target and opened up on him. Schulz was the last Bf 109 inside Plymouth Sound and stood very little chance of escaping. Pom Pom gunners Elderfield and Gillham locked onto their target and unleashed a sustained burst of 40mm gunfire towards the Messerschmitt. As Schulz opened his throttle and passed down the port side of Cleveland, he was hit in his starboard wing. Instantaneously, the aircraft’s wing folded over the cockpit. Totally out of control and on fire, the Bf 109 cartwheeled through the sky and crashed into the water at Cawsand Bay. The Luftwaffe would never attempt another Tip and Run raid on Plymouth for the rest of the war.
The aftermath of the attack was considerable. What was only a five-minute engagement shattered the lives of servicemen and their families from both sides. The attack achieved very little militaristically, with the exception of showing that the Luftwaffe could fly fast fighter bombers right to Britain’s doorstep. For the average Home Front civilian, this spectre was worrying enough.
Trevor Norridge was taken to intensive care at Stonehouse Royal Naval Hospital in Devonport, where he underwent an operation and convalesced for some time before rejoining his shipmates on board Brocklesby. James Ahern was admitted to the RNA Hospital at Maristow, near Plymouth, to recover from his wounds, which took a while to heal. As fate would have it, James Ahern would return to Brocklesby only to be killed during action at sea on 11 December 1942. Trevor Norridge survived the war and was extremely proud of his service on board Brocklesby. It is thanks to his granddaughter that his involvement in the Battle of Cawsand Bay came to light.
Elderfield and Gillham, the gunlayers on board Cleveland who shot down Schulz, were both gazetted and received Distinguished Service Medals for their action against enemy aircraft. Ironically, their commanding officer, Guy Sayer said, “Only in the forenoon, just before we sailed, he (Elderfield) had been up before me to have his gunlayer’s rate removed owing to his having failed to pass the periodic eyesight test!”
The lifeless body of Leutnant Hans-Joachim Schulz was recovered from the sea very near the crash site, only half an hour after being shot down. Schulz was taken to the morgue at RAF Mount Batten, where the extent of his catastrophic injuries was logged in the station sick quarters’ Operations Record Book. Hans-Joachim had died from impact trauma, which also resulted in fractured ribs, and a dislocated knee and elbow. The Luftwaffe Quartermasters’ daily report stated that Schulz was listed as missing on 16 May 1942. On 19 May, the damage to his aircraft was annotated as being 100 percent and Schulz was officially confirmed dead. After military intelligence had finished examining his body and personal effects, Schulz was ceremonially transported from RAF Mount Batten to Ford Park cemetery in Plymouth, where he received a military funeral. A swastika-emblazoned flag was draped over the coffin and several members of the RAF formed the funeral party.
The coffin was transported through the city of Plymouth in a flatbed truck to the cemetery. Members of the RAF bore the coffin to the graveside, where the vicar conducted a short ceremony. Berlin-born Hans-Joachim Schulz lay at rest in Ford Park until the end of March 1963, when his body, along with many other Luftwaffe airmen shot down over Great Britain were exhumed and reinterned at the German Military Cemetery at Cannock Chase.
Telling reminders of the fateful Tip and Run raid continued to appear for days and even years afterwards. The Plymouth Command War Diaries for 1942 show that two days later, on 18 May, a German aircraft dinghy was recovered two cables south-west of Mount Batten Pier. It is very likely that this was Schulz’s dinghy. The pilots sat on them, as they formed part of the Messerschmitt seat. On 21 May, a patrol from the Stoke Point Signal Station reported to the Devon Police Constabulary that they had found a German airman’s lifejacket washed up on the rocks at Stoke Beach. The jacket was duly collected by service personnel and taken back to RAF Mount Batten.
In 1982 a team of three servicemen from the club were diving in Cawsand Bay from their 24ft marine tender. On the second dive of the day it was suggested they dive in a location they had never been to before, looking for flatfish. The amateur divers stumbled upon what they knew from experience to be an aircraft engine, along with some fuselage comprising sections of airframe with clearly identifiable framed sections. The RAF men decided to turn the second dive into a training exercise to recover a large heavy object from the seabed. All aircraft in UK waters that have crashed during military service are now protected by the Protection of Military Remains Act 1986. When Schulz’s engine was discovered, it was still commonplace for people to recover crashed military aircraft at will.
Three 45-gallon plastic drums were lashed to the engine. Air from dive cylinders was used to fill the drums and raise the engine from the seabed. The engine was then towed behind the marine tender back to RAF Mount Batten. Once back in shallow water, it was guided over an old RAF seaplane slipway. The men then waited for the tide to go out. The engine was then lifted onto a trolley and moved into a hangar for closer inspection. The team removed the fuel pump and, unbelievably, it was still watertight and contained aircraft fuel after over 40 years on the seabed. A serial number was seen on a crank inside the crankcase but unfortunately it was not logged. The aircraft engine has been identified as a Daimler-Benz DB601E. This engine was used in the F4, as well as three other Bf 109 variants. The crank serial number would have certainly linked this engine to Werk Nummer 13014, which was the factory number of Schulz’s Bf 109. Several parts from Schulz’s engine remain in private hands today. Some were kept as trophies by members of the three-man dive team.
Not knowing what to do with the engine, the divers contacted Cornwall Aero Park, now known as Flambards Theme Park, in Helston, Cornwall. The then owner and late Mr Douglas Kingsford Hale MBE was a prolific collector of aviation parts, which he displayed around the theme park. The Messerschmitt engine was excitedly collected and taken to Cornwall, where it resided for many years near the Thunderbolt theme park ride.
Flambards has since changed hands and the relevance of the engine was lost. In 2017, the new owners donated the engine to a ‘museum’ which had expressed an interest in it. The DB601E was it collected and taken away – never to be seen again by the general public.
This is not the end of the story... seventy seven years after the fateful Tip and Run raid on Plymouth Sound - I rediscovered the Messerschmitt engine in May 2019. Watch the short film to find out more. The last known relic from The Battle of Cawsand Bay has been found. This is a story about an engine.
This is not the end of the story... seventy seven years after the fateful Tip and Run raid on Plymouth Sound - I rediscovered the Messerschmitt engine in May 2019. Watch the short film to find out more. The last known relic from The Battle of Cawsand Bay has been found. This is a story about an engine.