Bomber Command's "Golden Boy" - Wing Commander Guy Gibson VC
On the morning of 17 May 1943 photo reconnaissance over the Ruhr Valley revealed extensive devastation caused by the successful bombing of two key dams the night before. Rather than keeping these highly sensitive images secret, His Majesty's Government decided the time was ripe to brag about a remarkable achievement. Instantly, a hero was created, the 24-year-old commander of the squadron tasked with the operation: Wing Commander Guy Gibson.
While the "Dambuster Raid" was undoubtedly a daring exploit demonstrating an exceptional example of British ingenuity (the "bouncing bomb" designed by Barnes Wallis), Guy Gibson owes his fame more to the efforts of Bomber Command to create a glamorous hero than to the raid itself. Bomber Command, that is Air Marshal Harris, made a conscious decision to make a media figure of Gibson. He did so not only by awarding him an immediate VC and bar to his DSO and creating photo-ops with the King and Queen and Prime Minister, but even more explicitly by sending him to Canada and America on a "goodwill" tour. His death in action on 19 September 1944, aged 26, ensured that his wartime reputation would not be tarnished or overshadowed by actions he took after the war. But I would argue that Gibson was only one of many exceptional bomber pilots and commanders that the RAF produced -- and by no means the best or most admirable of the lot. Below a short biography.
Guy Gibson was born in India, the son of a colonial forestry officer, but his parents separated when he was six years old. He returned to England with his mother and siblings, where his mother developed drinking problems and became increasingly abusive. With the help of relatives, Guy was able to attend a good fee-paying school (or minor public school), St. Edwards in Oxford, where he was fortunate to have the support of a sympathetic staff. He developed an interest in flying very early and longed to be a civilian test pilot, writing to Vickers-Amstrongs Ltd to inquire how best to go about it. The chief test pilot replied to the schoolboy's letter suggesting Gibson first learn to fly in the RAF.
Gibson duly applied to the RAF for a Short Service Commission and was accepted in November 1936. He earned his wings in May 1937, and opted for further training on bombers because of his long term ambitions in civil aviation. He passed out of advanced training with a flying assessment of "average" but his assessments also noted negatively on a degree of arrogance towards ground crews and those with lower seniority.
His first assignment was to 83 Squadron flying Hawker Hinds -- a biplane. Again his treatment of ground crew earned him the nickname "bumptuous bastard." By January 1939, the squadron had been re-equipped with monoplane Hamptons and was operating out of RAF Scrampton. Although Gibson's short service commission ended in 1939, he was retained due to the international situation and the immanence of war. When the war finally broke out on 3 September 1939, Gibson was still with 83 Squadron and held the rank of Flying Officer.
Gibson took part in one of the first operations in the war on 5 September, but soon the "Phoney War" set in and there was little flying -- to Gibson's evident frustration. In January, he was seconded to Coastal Command. From April to September 1940, during the Wehrmacht's invasion of Norway, Denmark, the Netherlands, Belgium and France and throughout the Battle of Britain, Gibson flew a total 34 operations, including ten in June alone. It was in this period that he established his reputation as "fearless," particularly demonstrating a willingness to operate in bad weather. He was awarded the Distinguished Flying Cross (DFC) on 9 July 1940 and was promoted to Flight Lieutenant on 3 September 1940. He flew his last operation with 83 Squadron on 23 September 1940 taking part in a raid on Berlin.
By now, Gibson had already attracted the attention of Arthur Harris, the CO of 5 Group. Harris thought Gibson was the "most full-out fighting pilot" in the entire Group -- although it is not known how he came to this conclusion, since Harris' aloofness is well-recorded and he was unlikely to have been familiar with the fighting spirit of the majority of his pilots. In accordance with standard procedures, Gibson was given a rest from operations by being assigned as an instructor at an Operational Training Squadron. However, soon afterwards a notice was posted requesting volunteers with night flying experience to re-train on night fighters. Gibson at once put his name forward. Notably, in a letter Harris wrote a to Fighter Command introducing the volunteers from his command he described Gibson as "the best" of the lot. He also promised Gibson that on completion of an operational tour with Fighter Command, he could apply to return to Bomber Command, where Harris promised to give him the best command at his disposal.
Gibson was posted to No 29 Squadron on 13 November 1940. The squadron was then equipped with the obsolete Bristol Blenheim that had never been designed as a night fighter and morale was correspondingly very low. In his book "Enemy Coast Ahead," written two years later, Gibson recalls the very poor reception he received. He attributed the hostility and rudeness he encountered from his fellow officers largely to the fact that he was a "bomber boy." The situation improved, however, with the arrival of Bristol Beaufighters in December 1940. Gibson flew throughout 1941 with 29 Squadron attaining the rank of Acting Squadron Leader in the process. He was credited with a total of five "kills" but the slow pace of success and the comparative safety did not appeal to him. As the German bombing offensive against Great Britain faded away with the German invasion of the Soviet Union, Gibson became increasingly restless and requested a return to Bomber Command.
Although initially Fighter Command insisted that he report as Chief Flying Instructor at an OTU instead, Harris had meanwhile been promoted to Air Officer Commanding Bomber Command and Gibson's appeal to him met with enthusiastic approval. Harris recommended Gibson for promotion to Wing Commander and proposed an assignment as Squadron Leader of a Lancaster squadron in late March 1942. The Lancasters were only just being deployed to frontline service at this time.
Gibson was sent to No 106 Squadron, which was then still equipped with the Avro Manchester, the unsatisfactory two-engined predecessor of the Lancaster, and Gibson flew four operations on these before the arrival of the Lancasters in May. As a squadron leader, Gibson was supposed to fly only occasionally, which he did, but he flew when the targets were viewed as particularly difficult. He was also credited with easing new crews into operations with lower-risk operations such as mine laying or less-defended targets. Nevertheless, he was viewed as "ruthless" towards crews he believed were shirking their duty, turning back unnecessarily or fabricating technical difficulties -- i.e. "lacking in moral fibre."
His relations with ground crews and even NCO aircrew had not improved. The ground crews continued to see him as arrogant and unapproachable, while the NCO aircrew felt that he essentially ignored them. An NCO bomb aimer on 106 Squadron claims that:
...he was known as the 'Arch-Bastard' because of his strict discipline, and... he wasn't able to bring himself to talk with the NCOs, and certainly not with the ground crews.... He spoke to us all at briefings, but he never spoke to me on a one-to-one basis, or ever shook my hand, or even acknowledged me. [Johnny Johnson quoted in John Nichol, Return of the Dambusters: What 617 Squadron did Next. William Collins, 2015, 19.]
Given Harris' favoritism toward Gibson, it is not surprising that 106 Squadron was selected for a special mission using new bomb sites and directed against the Scharnhorst and Gneisenau, but although Gibson led the squadron in person, bad weather made the operation a failure. Nevertheless, he flew on a variety of important operations as needed and continued to enjoy Harris' favour, who selected him as the pilot to carry a BBC correspondent on a sortie to Berlin in January 1943. On 12 March 1943, he made his last operational flight with 106 Squadron in a operation during which he lost one engine and had to remain at low level throughout. By this time he had completed 173 operational flights altogether and was awarded a bar to his DSO.
Instead of a rest, however, he was selected by his mentor Harris to command a new squadron (initially designated simply Squadron X) to carry out an attack on the Ruhr dams using Barnes Wallis top secret (and not yet fully developed) bouncing bombs. On 18 March, Gibson was asked by Air Vice Marshal Cochrane, whether he would be willing to do "one more trip." Gibson asked "what kind of a trip?" and was told that although the details could not yet be revealed it was important, "perhaps one of the most devastating of all time." [Gibson. Enemy Coast Ahead. First published 1946. Crecy edition 2005, 202] Gibson admits to gulping but agreed. Only two days later did he learn he was tasked with pulling together an entire squadron composed of highly experienced crews for an operation that would entail extreme precision and low-level flying.
The training for the mysterious mission was very intense and competitive. Gibson threw two full crews off the squadron and another crew requested a transfer after Gibson dismissed their navigator. Training lasted less than two months, during which time only Gibson knew the target or anything about the bomb they would be using. It was two months during which the bomb itself was undergoing trials and final modifications. In the course of these experiments it became clear that the bomb would only bounce properly if dropped from exactly 60 feet while flying at a ground speed of 232 mph. The crews had trained to bomb at 150 feet in the dark -- already incredibly low and difficult particularly over water. They were given only days to practice at 60 feet. They did.
Below, Gibson (on the stairs in the door) and his crew go aboard their Lancaster before the Dams Raid.
As noted in the beginning, the attack on the Ruhr dams took place on the night of May 16-17, 1943 and although perhaps not as spectacularly successful as Wallis had expected (or the RAF believed it to have been at the time), Albert Speer admitted in his memoirs that it was devastatingly effective. Post- war attempts to dismiss its value are a case of misplaced revisionism.
The raid also catapulted Gibson into the limelight. He was instantly lionized in the press. The King and Queen visited the squadron and were shown scale models of the dams as well having a meal at the Officers' Mess and inspecting the squadron. Gibson was awarded the VC and several others in the squadron were also decorated All were invested with their new medals by the Queen at Buckingham Palace on 22 June. On 24 July, Gibson and his wife were hosted by Prime Minister Churchill at his home Chequers.
Gibson turned over 617 Squadron to a new CO on 2 August and the next day joined the PM and a handful of senior commanders bound for Canada on the Queen Mary. In Canada, he met the Canadian PM, and later Churchill arranged for him to meet Franklin D. Roosevelt, the American president, as well. He also gave press conferences to hundreds of journalists and proved extremely charismatic and effective as a PR spokesman for the RAF. Thereafter he made an extensive tour of Canada, attending receptions, giving interviews and speeches.
To his credit, he also took the time to meet with the families of two aircrew from 617 Squadron who had been among the 56 that did not return from the dams raid. He also met the mother of his own navigator. The Canadian tour ended Oct 3, 1943, and Gibson then went on to the United States, starting in Washington, D.C. and continuing to Chicago, Minneapolis and Los Angeles, where he was given a rest hosted by the Hollywood director Howard Hanks.
Although the Americans consistently described Gibson as "modest," Harris later claimed that "America" had "spoiled young Gibson" and made him overly proud of his accomplishments. Yet even during his first posting to 83 Squadron as an Acting Pilot Officer before the war, many of his contemporaries had found him arrogant. NCO aircrew as well as ground crews had coined nicknames like "bumptious bastard" and "Arch-Bastard," and at least one officer on 617 called him "haughty." In short, America hadn't ruined Gibson, it had at most reinforced tendencies that he already had.
Gibson returned to the UK aboard a B24 Liberator that was being ferried across the Atlantic, arriving Dec. 1, 1943. Although he requested an operational posting on his return, he was assigned instead to the Directorate for the Prevention of Accidents and ordered to "write a book." This he did, completing a draft that was submitted to the Air Ministry in the summer of 1944; an edited version of this book (cited above) was released by the Royal Airforce Museum in 1946 under the title "Enemy Coast Ahead."
Meanwhile, from March to May 1944, Gibson attended Staff College. In June he appealed directly to Harris for an operational posting and was assigned as a staff officer and assistant to the Base Air Staff Officer with duties of operational planning and liaison between squadrons at the base. He used this posting to get re-acquainted with the Lancaster during a test flight, and to fly as an observer on an attack against a V1 launch site. On 2 August he was transferred to Coningsby, home of a flight for experimental flying and appears to have received permission to fly on operations provided it was "non-participatory" and he could bail out over Allied-controlled territory. He flew Lightnings on two observer flights and also flew a Mosquito to Scotland in this period.
On 19 September orders came down for a raid on Bremen that were then changed due to weather to three secondary targets. The announced operation was furthermore unusually complex with dispersed markings but one master bomber controlling. When Gibson announced that he would himself be the Master Bomber there was widespread dismay (as he was inexperienced) and suspicion soon took root that the entire plan was of his making -- and a reflection of his inexperience.
Furthermore, as Gibson had neither a regular navigator nor an assigned aircraft these had to be found at short notice. The Station Navigation Officer was recruited (one suspects without much choice in the matter) to be his navigator, and it was decided Gibson would "borrow" a Mosquito from 627 Squadron based at Woodhall Spa. Here, Gibson peremptorily rejected the squadron's reserve aircraft and insisted in flying one of his choosing. As Master Bomber, however, he did not carry a bomb load, so the bombs had to be removed from the aircraft he selected and reloaded on the aircraft he rejected. Needless to say (given the intensely superstitious nature of aircrew), the crew that should have been flying the aircraft he commandeered were not happy. The entire episode reeked of arrogance, high-handedness, and an exaggerated sense of self-importance.
Gibson had also over-estimated his own capabilities. It was now 18 months since he had commanded the Dams raid and despite one or two "observer" and test flights, he had not flown operationally and he most certainly had never fulfilled the function of Master Bomber. The raid went poorly with Target Indicators not in place when the main force arrived, they had to orbit the target while attempts were made to put down flares. All in all there was great confusion, throughout which Gibson remained outwardly calm. But he never returned.
It was later learned that Gibson crashed in the Netherlands at roughly 22:30. He and his navigator were both in the cockpit and both were killed. The cause of the crash has never been adequately explained as no German night fighters made any claims that would match the date and location of Gibson's crash, and an excavation of the crash site revealed no major evidence of flak damage to the aircraft. This leaves technical failure or pilot error as the possible causes. Gibson had less than 10 hours on Mosquitos and his navigator had never flown in one operationally before this flight. It is hard to escape the conclusion that Gibson died of hubris -- over-estimating his skill and luck once too often.
Gibson was undoubtedly an outstanding wartime pilot. He flew nearly 200 sortie -- the equivalent of 8 USAF operational tours and nearly twice as many as Leonard Cheshire. He unquestionably earned his VC, DSO and Bar and DFC and Bar. That said, it is important to bear in mind that many of those "sorties" were as a night fighter, an activity that was comparatively safe and not fully comparable to an bomber raid against the German Reich.
Furthermore, men who knew him claim that he become addicted to danger. He was certainly restless whenever he was off "ops" for an extended period of time. But, to be fair, many men who flew with Bomber Command became restless and unhappy whenever they were taken off ops -- despite openly admitting to being afraid and sometimes developing PTSD symptoms.
Gibson's greatest flaw was undoubtedly his arrogance. While
some forgave Gibson because he had "something to be arrogant about,"
that assessment seems dubious when one considers there were in fact many
other outstanding pilots and commanders who were both fearless in the
face of the enemy, good pilots, and respectful of ALL their men
regardless of rank or job. One has only to think of Leonard Cheshire, William Tait and Johnny Fauquier, Gibson's successors on 617
Squadron.
Gibson brought a surprising degree of arrogance with him into the RAF, an attribute that was fed by his real successes as a pilot and further fostered by the adulation and public admiration surrounding his PR tour in Canada and the US. Few 24-year-olds would find it easy to keep their abilities and accomplishments in perspective while being wined and dined by kings, queens, prime ministers and presidents.
None of this detracts from what Gibson did, but he should be seen in perspective as one of many -- and as a flawed hero as well, indeed, almost a classic tragic hero, whose greatest flaw leads to his downfall.
My novels about the RAF in WWII are intended as tributes to the men in the air and on the ground that made a victory in Europe against fascism possible.
they took the war to Hitler.
Their chances of survival were less than fifty percent.
Their average age was 21.
This is the story of just one bomber pilot, his crew and the woman he loved.
It is intended as a tribute to them all.
or Barnes and Noble.
"Where Eagles Never Flew" was the the winner of a Hemingway Award for 20th Century Wartime Fiction and a Maincrest Media Award for Military Fiction. Find out more at: https://crossseaspress.com/where-eagles-never-flew
For more information about all my aviation books visit: https://www.helenapschrader.com/aviation.html
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