unprepared to accept this early check to their sworn mission. Within a short space, they bade a joyous if silent farewell to the flesh pots of neutral Sweden and escaped. Using the route that came to be known as "Northern One," they came to England. They had travelled by the North Sea, Denmark, even the Baltic as far as an unfrequented stretch of coast between Danzig and Kolobizeg and then southwards inland. Their privations were terrible, their target Newmarket. To reach that delectable base for future sorties, they were prepared single-mindedly to endure. They came-not to Newmarket but to Stradishall. The Squadron had moved. They reported there for duty. "Please, as soon as possible, we are wishing to make a flight to Poland."
Alas, that longed-for return flight to Poland w as delayed. In November, 1941, 38 Squadron had settled down in its new but temporary home. It was to remain there for a bare three months-under the command of Wing-Commander Farley, D.F.C. Brief as this period was, it was a violently active one. In the space of less than ninety days, the Squadron undertook fifty special operations and every single one of them was a success. Their wings had been over France, Belgium, Holland, Norway, Czechoslovakia, and once more over Poland when a second crew had the delight of seeing their native soil below them. Two Whitleys were detached from the Squadron in this same month of November for service in Malta. Using the island as their base, their objective was to parachute agents and equipment into the lowering mountains of Yugoslavia where the hungry partisans waited. The Whitleys flew to Malta. The agents were sent by submarine-packed in with dried milk, babies' dummies, plastic explosive (light-heartedly known to saboteurs as ‘stagger-juice’), insect powder, brassieres and hand-grenades. Men and machines arrived safely but one of the Whitleys was found to be unserviceable. The other took off with a Serbian as second pilot. Though the mission was successfully completed, it was regarded as a testing flight from which much might be learned. These were still the days of trial and experiment. Much was learned. It became clear that Whitleys were too slow for daylight operations of this kind. Their lack of oxygen and de-icing equipment imposed a tremendous physical strain on both passengers and crews and it was sadly realised that, other than in cases of extreme urgency, the aircraft were impracticable. The two Whitleys returned to England to rejoin I38 Squadron at Stradishall. Their stay there was brief.
In March, I942, 138 Squadron moved to Tempsford. As the Danes had done a thousand years ago they abode there, thinking that from thence, they could by war and hostility get more of the land again.
It was not their own unassailable soil that they sought.
Chapter Six
THE TRAP IS SPRUNG
To Tempsford came a second special duty squadron that had been formed a month before. The cadre of this new Squadron was The King's Flight, commanded by Wing Commander E. H. ("Mouse") Fielden, former pilot to the then Prince of Wales and famed for his brilliant captaincy of crews detached for duty to His Majesty King George VI.
The number of this Squadron was 61. They were the ‘pick-up’ experts. The ‘pick-up’ sortie, eventually brought to an exact art by 161 Squadron, was perhaps one of the most spectacular regular operations of the war.
The original request came from the underground group. Using an ordinary Michelin road map which, if found on one's person by the Germans was in itself not a suspicious object, the group found what looked on paper to be a suitable field. But personal inspection was essential. Usually two people, a man and a woman, then mounted their bicycles and trundled off to see the ground and to measure it by pacing. The requirements were rigid. A Lysander needed a good, clear flat surface about six hundred yards long and four hundred yards wide. A Hudson's needs were greater. It required about
Alas, that longed-for return flight to Poland w as delayed. In November, 1941, 38 Squadron had settled down in its new but temporary home. It was to remain there for a bare three months-under the command of Wing-Commander Farley, D.F.C. Brief as this period was, it was a violently active one. In the space of less than ninety days, the Squadron undertook fifty special operations and every single one of them was a success. Their wings had been over France, Belgium, Holland, Norway, Czechoslovakia, and once more over Poland when a second crew had the delight of seeing their native soil below them. Two Whitleys were detached from the Squadron in this same month of November for service in Malta. Using the island as their base, their objective was to parachute agents and equipment into the lowering mountains of Yugoslavia where the hungry partisans waited. The Whitleys flew to Malta. The agents were sent by submarine-packed in with dried milk, babies' dummies, plastic explosive (light-heartedly known to saboteurs as ‘stagger-juice’), insect powder, brassieres and hand-grenades. Men and machines arrived safely but one of the Whitleys was found to be unserviceable. The other took off with a Serbian as second pilot. Though the mission was successfully completed, it was regarded as a testing flight from which much might be learned. These were still the days of trial and experiment. Much was learned. It became clear that Whitleys were too slow for daylight operations of this kind. Their lack of oxygen and de-icing equipment imposed a tremendous physical strain on both passengers and crews and it was sadly realised that, other than in cases of extreme urgency, the aircraft were impracticable. The two Whitleys returned to England to rejoin I38 Squadron at Stradishall. Their stay there was brief.
In March, I942, 138 Squadron moved to Tempsford. As the Danes had done a thousand years ago they abode there, thinking that from thence, they could by war and hostility get more of the land again.
It was not their own unassailable soil that they sought.
Chapter Six
THE TRAP IS SPRUNG
To Tempsford came a second special duty squadron that had been formed a month before. The cadre of this new Squadron was The King's Flight, commanded by Wing Commander E. H. ("Mouse") Fielden, former pilot to the then Prince of Wales and famed for his brilliant captaincy of crews detached for duty to His Majesty King George VI.
The number of this Squadron was 61. They were the ‘pick-up’ experts. The ‘pick-up’ sortie, eventually brought to an exact art by 161 Squadron, was perhaps one of the most spectacular regular operations of the war.
The original request came from the underground group. Using an ordinary Michelin road map which, if found on one's person by the Germans was in itself not a suspicious object, the group found what looked on paper to be a suitable field. But personal inspection was essential. Usually two people, a man and a woman, then mounted their bicycles and trundled off to see the ground and to measure it by pacing. The requirements were rigid. A Lysander needed a good, clear flat surface about six hundred yards long and four hundred yards wide. A Hudson's needs were greater. It required about
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