The story behind the painting of the Shell House raid.
By Terence Fox
Copyright © Terence Fox 2008
INTRODUCTION
Telling the story behind a picture of a Royal Air Force operation undertaken in World War Two would normally entail presenting the facts about the raid itself, including details of the aircrew involved, and the aircraft they flew. The reasons for the raid would often be explained, and the planning and training described, along with details of any special weapons employed. An example that comes to mind is the story of the famous Dams Raid, where numerous accounts have been written, and many pictures produced. However, this is the story behind the story, so to speak, explaining about the picture itself, how it came to be painted, the research involved, and the reason it was eventually published as limited-edition prints.
In the mid 1980's, I was a Technical Representative with Kodak Limited in England, employed in the Graphics Imaging Systems Division, dealing with an area that covered the north of England and all of Scotland. At the time, one or two 'new' products had been
1 introduced, in direct competition with the Company's nearest rival, who dominated a particular niche within the Graphics and Printing Industry market. It was my job to ensure that sales of these products, mainly through a network of distributors, would be increased, and I was put in charge of the sales effort through these distributors, providing training and support, and assisting their sales teams in the field. These new products were excellent, being as good as, and in many ways far better than, the competition. But, unlike the opposition, the Company lacked the necessary exposing and processing equipment to compliment these items and, as a result, didn't quite achieve the initial sales results expected. It occurred to me that, to be truly competitive in Europe, and particularly Britain, this equipment should be made available; the situation in the United States was slightly different, as the particular competitor was not, at that time, as dominant in America as they were in Europe. I made these feelings known to my managers, offering a few suggestions as to the possible sources of the required hardware, and I was soon given the go-ahead to speak to contacts I knew, through my dealings with the network of distributors. These 'contacts' were representatives from a respected Danish company, Eskofot A/S, who manufactured and supplied high-quality process cameras, and film and paper processors, handled in the U.K. by one of 'my' distributors. Very soon after, arrangements were made to market and sell Eskofot equipment, under the Kodak label, which included certain design features not found on the 'stock' products. As a result of this, and because of my initial involvement, I was packed off to Hjørring, in North Jutland, Denmark, to learn all about the equipment that would soon become part of the Kodak graphics package across the World, eventually passing on this new-found knowledge to others within the Company. The reader might, at this stage, be wondering what all this has to do with an aviation painting produced in 1995, almost ten years after the events described above. The answer is, everything! If I hadn't been sent to Denmark in the summer of 1986, it is probable that the 'Shell House' picture would not have crossed my mind. And, without support from Eskofot, the prints from the painting would possibly never have been produced!
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HOW IT STARTED
During my first visit to Eskofot, I bumped in to a person I had met before, briefly, in England. His name was Derek Carter, who was English, originally from Norwich, and had lived and worked in Denmark for many years. It didn't take Derek long to discover that I had once served with the Parachute Regiment, and that I had always had a keen interest in aircraft, and aviation in general. It transpired that Derek also had an interest in aviation, and had started a small collection of militaria items related to the 'Paras'! With our common interests, we soon hit it off and, on the odd occasion when we were able to meet during the next couple of years, we talked about various aviation and military subjects and swapped a couple of books and other information.
2 Since childhood I have been a keen modeller, when time allows, specialising mainly in World War 2 aircraft, with the odd 'modern' aircraft thrown in, and some armoured vehicles. I have also been drawing and painting aircraft from an early age, and the latter hobby really expanded when I joined my local Aero Club. A requirement of both of these hobbies, if one strives for accuracy, is thorough research of the subject concerned and, as a result, it is almost inevitable that, in time, one will become an amateur historian of sorts! With these combined 'skills', I started painting more aviation pictures, accepting commissions from friends and colleagues, which led in turn to a series of 'word of mouth' recommendations, leading to more commissions. By the time I met Derek, I had produced a respectable number of aviation oil paintings, and many pencil drawings, often using model aircraft to 'pose', in order to achieve proportion and the correct perspective in my pictures. My clients ranged from friends, members of the Aero Club and Bomber Command Association to the United States Army. (But that's another story!) It was about this time, I think late in 1988, when I met Derek again, at a large printing exhibition we were both working at. We chatted about the usual work-related things, then the conversation turned, as usual, to aviation. I knew that Derek was involved with an aviation group and a small air museum in Denmark, and thought that he could perhaps help me with research for a painting I intended to produce. I had long wanted to paint a decent picture of the De Havilland Mosquito, which I have always thought to be a beautiful aircraft. Due to an involvement in the airshow 'scene' over the years, I had had the privilege of meeting various aircrew, past and present, and had been able to sit in, and photograph the Mosquito T III operated out of Hawarden, near Chester, by British Aerospace, now BAe. (Sadly, some years later this aircraft was to crash at Barton, Manchester, with the tragic loss of both crew members.) Being so close to such a classic aircraft, and having met the display crew at that time, and a number of former R.A.F. 'Mossie' crews, really inspired me, and I was itching to get to work on a picture. The problem was, I couldn't decide on which way to portray the aircraft, or even which Mark to depict. At the time, more than one of the 'top' aviation artists had issued limited edition prints of the Mosquito, taken from their original paintings, the most recent being pictures of the Amiens prison attack, 'Operation Jericho', and later the attack on Gestapo H.Q. at Aarhus, Denmark. I didn't want to just paint a Mosquito; I wanted to depict a specific operation. The main problem was, it seemed that most of the famous 'ops' had been covered by other artists, and I didn't want to repeat the 'story'. But, I hadn't seen any pictures depicting some of the other key low-level raids, particularly those on various other Gestapo Headquarters buildings. Although I was aware of low-level attacks in Norway, Denmark, Holland and Belgium, I didn't have much detailed information, and all my reference sources gave only brief accounts, lacking the detail required to produce an accurate painting. Consequently, I asked Derek if he could find out a bit more about the well known low-level Mosquito attacks in Denmark, mentioning the recently depicted Aarhus raid as an example. At the time, I thought that, being based in Copenhagen, he might be able to provide some details, possibly gained from 'local knowledge' which would help me depict one of the raids. What I was basically looking for was detailed information on the squadrons
3 involved, perhaps serial numbers and code letters of individual aircraft, with the names of the crews if possible, but, above all, details of the target buildings, attack angles, terrain, and weather and so on. It is this sort of detail that really helps in providing authenticity and accuracy; without it, it would just be 'a picture of Mosquitoes!' By coincidence, some years earlier Derek had already started research into this part of Denmark's wartime history, along with some of his associates in the aviation group. He told me that he would do what he could, but that I had to understand that he was away from home a lot, due to work schedules, so it might take some time. This, and the fact that Derek lived near Copenhagen and I lived in the north of England would, I knew, mean that regular communication would not be as easy or as convenient as it would if we lived near to each other. Remember, this was, of course, before the introduction of the 'Internet', and mobile 'phones were still a novel rarity. I recall telling Derek that it was not a problem, and there was no rush; it was just something I'd like to do, eventually. I don't think either of us knew, at the time, just how long things would take, or how involved the project would become!
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PAINTINGS CONTINUE, THE JOB DOESN'T!
Not long after seeing Derek at the printing exhibition, I was asked if I could paint a picture portraying American involvement with R.A.F. Burtonwood, the former huge airfield near Warrington, between Liverpool and Manchester. At the time, late 1988, the airfield had long been closed, and was in the process of being demolished and redeveloped. However, the United States Army still maintained a very large Support and Supply facility on the edge of the former U.S. Air Force base, once the biggest in Europe, and the Commanding Officer wanted pictures for the new 'all ranks' club at the base. The upshot was, I had to produce three pictures showing the American occupation of Burtonwood, Air Forces and Army, from World War 2. This, plus other commissions and the work load with my full-time job, prevented my progressing the idea for the Mosquito picture. Oh! And an eighteen month old daughter, Gemma, bless her! The Burtonwood paintings were completed and delivered in 1989, and I also managed to produce on or two other pictures. But the pressure of work at Kodak had increased and, like Derek in Denmark, I was spending more and more time away from home, returning, absolutely bushed, at weekends. This wasn't conducive to a stable marriage, and the inevitable happened. The painting continued, and I turned out some rather nice pictures, including some modern jets which, up until that time, were a rarity for me. There is no doubt that the commissions from the U.S. Army helped bolster my reputation, and they certainly boosted my confidence and enthusiasm.
4 In February 1990, I visited Eskofot again, and was able to stop-off at the company's Head Office in Copenhagen to meet up with Derek, when I was able to give him some bits and pieces to add to his 'Airborne Forces' collection, and remind him about my request for information on Mosquito attacks in Denmark! Time passed and, by the end of 1990, I was involved with another artistic venture. Following exploratory discussions with a (then) well known high-street art and picture- framing franchise company, I formed my own small 'company', called The Airframes Studio. A joint venture was agreed, whereby I would produce a series of paintings, from which limited edition print-runs would be produced. These would be marketed by the franchise company, which had outlets in most of the major towns and cities in Britain, and also ran a similar operation in the United States. The prints would be advertised and sold under the banner 'The Airframes Collection', which tied-in very nicely with the name of the franchise company! It was agreed that the shops would each receive a certain number of prints from each painting, with the total number supplied to the company approximating to 75% of each print run; the remainder would be marketed and sold through The Airframes Studio. It was decided to start by producing approximately six print issues in the first year, each one depicting a particular scene from aviation history. Each print would be individually signed and numbered, and would include a Certificate of Authenticity, and background notes describing the scene portrayed. Wherever possible, aircrew involved would be invited to countersign the prints, and a percentage of the proceeds would be donated to the Royal Air Force Benevolent Fund. The prints would be offered at a realistic price, and the forecasts, produced by the company following a survey of their outlets, were extremely encouraging. It looked like I could earn some decent money from this venture, and I quickly got down to some serious planning! After a number of telephone calls, and numerous letters, I was able to 'line up' some well- known names from the aviation world, including some World War 2 personalities, who were willing to sign prints of 'their' aircraft. I was particularly pleased with this result as, sadly, the numbers of wartime veterans were dwindling. The modern Royal Air Force was not ignored, and provisional arrangements were made for current fast-jet display crews to sign prints of certain aircraft types then in service. In order to get things moving quickly, and to meet the suggested deadline of the franchise company, I decided to commence proceedings with the issue of a print of a Lancaster, which also tied in with the forthcoming 50th anniversary of the famous Avro bomber. I knew a former Lancaster Flight Engineer at the Aero Club, and spent some time listening to the story of his final flight of World War 2, when his aircraft was shot down over Germany in the summer of 1944. As I didn't want to be seen to be 'glorifying' war, I thought that a simple rendition of his aircraft, perhaps depicted just after being hit by a Messerschmitt Me110 night fighter, might provide a suitable debut print. With this in mind, I asked if he was still in touch with his old crew, and would he, and they, be prepared to sign prints. The answer was yes, although my friend could only locate three of his former crew of seven; the pilot, the wireless operator and the rear gunner. After much consultation with my friend, when I gleaned all I could about the last flight of his Lancaster, including weather over their home base, damage to the aircraft and the
5 ultimate fate of the crew, the painting was produced. Instead of depicting the Lancaster's last moments, the picture showed the aircraft turning over its base, departing on its final mission to Stuttgart, with the fields below accurately depicted from photographs and period maps, and the evening sky as described to me. A limited edition print run was produced, with the picture being entitled 'Final Flight', and arrangements were made for the crew to meet, in order to sign the prints. After almost forty years, the four surviving crew members met, together for the first time, on the 5th of May, 1991, at East Kirkby in Lincolnshire, where a Press day had been organised, with a token signing ceremony grouped around the original painting, under the nose of the preserved Lancaster based at this former wartime bomber airfield. A fantastic and emotive occasion! The first advert had already appeared in a well known and respected aviation journal and, on the day it was published, a telephone call was received from a former member of the same Squadron, who wanted to purchase a print direct! Things were looking good, and it appeared that the franchise company's forecasts were fairly accurate, judging by the reaction from the individual shops. It was time to start planning the next prints, and it was about then that I remembered my request to Derek. A signed print of a historic, low-level Mosquito raid would make a fantastic addition to the 'Airframes Collection', if the necessary information, and former air crews, could be gathered!
I wasted little time in telephoning Denmark, and eventually I was able to catch Derek at the Eskofot office in Copenhagen. Although he had spent months travelling around the World on business during the intervening years, Derek hadn't forgotten my request made at the exhibition in 1988, and had undertaken a huge amount of research into R.A.F. operations involving targets in Denmark, paying particular attention to the Mosquito raids at Aarhus, Odense and Copenhagen. He discovered that, although the Aarhus raid had been particularly well documented, and books and paintings had already been produced covering the event, not so much had been written, accurately , concerning the raid on the Gestapo H.Q. at Copenhagen. A T.V. documentary about this raid had been produced however, in the early 1970's, and this had set Derek on the trail of the truth! Although the documentary was well researched, written and produced, and included interviews with many of the people involved, Derek discovered that there were quite a few inaccuracies, possibly as a result of compound errors over the years since 1945. Also, because of the nature of T.V. programmes, when there is only a limited amount of time in which to tell the story, show the available footage and so on, the programme, although excellent in its own right, followed the 'official' story of the raid. It was Derek's intention to get right down to the 'nitty gritty', to uncover the 'bones' of the story, and piece together every available detail; the men, the machines, the objective, and the reason for the raid at such a late stage in the war. He also wanted to describe the results, the outcome and aftermath, and the casualties resulting from such an ambitious, and daring, operation. Having learned of Derek's dedication in researching this subject, my decision was made!
6 The Mosquito painting would depict the attack on 'Shell House' in Copenhagen which, during World War 2, was commandeered and used as the Headquarters for the hated Gestapo, the Nazi's Secret State Police. I told Derek of my involvement with the franchise company, and informed him of the plans for the future, when further limited-edition prints would be required. He agreed that a print depicting the famous 'Shell House' raid, signed by surviving aircrew, was a great idea, and could possibly be the 'jewel in the crown' of the whole venture. Between us, we arranged to keep things moving, agreeing to work together, whenever possible, to see this project through to fruition.
It was not long after this when two things happened that changed my plans slightly! The first thing that really put 'the cat amongst the pigeons' was a dispute, in the United States, involving the franchisees of the American shops and the parent franchise company in Britain. The immediate effect of this dispute was the 'hold' on sales of 'non-company sourced' material to the British outlets, meaning that prints such as mine could not be supplied to the shops, even if delivered via the franchisor! This was not good news, as it looked like the situation would jeopardise my entire future plans, which included sales to the American market, via the company's outlets there. (I had made some provisional arrangements for a print edition to be signed by a high- scoring American fighter 'ace' of WW2.) But things became rapidly worse! The dispute in the 'States escalated, and although I never did discover the full details concerning the apparent argument, the whole thing went to court. The franchise company lost the case, which resulted in the company going into receivership, leaving the individual shops in Britain to carry on independently! That might have possibly been good news for the one-time franchisees, who hopefully ended up with an intact business, but it was terrible news for me! I had supplied the bulk of the first print issue to the company, on a 'sale or return' basis, with each U.K. shop receiving an initial issue of at least two prints. The agreement was that I would receive my percentage payment for each print when sold, after an agreed period, and further prints from the first edition, if still available, could then be supplied to the outlets. From the sales returns disclosed from the shops during the first month of issue, I knew that sales were doing well, and the next painting was ready to go to print. Naturally, this print run was postponed, whilst I tried to ascertain where I stood with the company. Unfortunately, I was very low down on the list of creditors and, apart from receiving a cheque for one print sale directly from one particular shop, I had absolutely no chance of being paid for the rest of the prints, which the shops still had! As I had been relying on the proceeds of sales to go towards funding the next print run, and some advertising for direct sales, I was far from being in a strong position. But at least I still had some prints I could sell myself, which I intended to do by way of advertising, eventually. This situation, of course, had a direct bearing on the plans for the 'Shell House' picture, but I was confident I would overcome the problems, and be able to proceed eventually. Then the next bombshell landed squarely in my lap!
7 Towards the end of 1991, Eastman Kodak, the parent company in America, announced that they were seeking worldwide staff reductions! Kodak Limited agreed to the demands, and I was one of many made redundant, leaving the company in November, but walking away with a reasonable severance package. By this time, I had met Kate at the Aero Club, who had helped and supported me enormously, using her professional skills to manage the print-signing event at East Kirkby, and at the hotel used to entertain the R.A.F. veterans, earlier in the year. We had already arranged to get married the following year, and this latest development came as a bit of a blow, to say the least! However, undeterred, and with fantastic support from Kate, things went along fairly well, considering, and I was able to concentrate on painting again, and also found time to get involved with presenting talks and lectures on military history and firearms, mainly to the corporate market. It was then that I got in touch with Derek again, to progress the idea for the 'Shell House' painting.
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THE AIM SHIFTS
Derek was shocked to learn that I had left Kodak, but pleased to hear that I was still progressing with my paintings. Over the years, he had uncovered many little-known facts concerning 'Operation Carthage', the attack by Mosquitoes of 2 Group, R.A.F., against the Gestapo H.Q. located in the building known as 'Shell House', which was the pre-war Headquarters of A/S Dansk Shell , the Danish division of the international Shell Oil Company. This building was a modern, reinforced concrete structure, situated on cross-roads near the centre of the city of Copenhagen. It is not the aim, or purpose of this work to tell the story of the raid; that story is more than well documented by Derek Carter who, I believe, must be the authority on the subject! However, in order to understand the background to the picture, its involved and complex development, and to appreciate the sheer enormity of the task Derek set himself in researching the subject so thoroughly, it is necessary to provide a little information concerning the raid itself, and the reason it was launched.
8 On March 21st, 1945, six weeks before the end of the war Europe, 18 De Havilland Mosquito FB VI fighter-bombers, drawn from three squadrons of 140 Wing, 2 Group, 2nd Tactical Air Force, accompanied by 2 modified Mosquito B Mk IV's from the R.A.F. Film Production Unit, carried out an extremely low-level, daylight precision attack on the Gestapo H.Q. in Shell House, Copenhagen. These aircraft, withdrawn specially from their temporary French base for the raid, had taken off from Fersfield, in Norfolk, England, escorted by 31 North American Mustang fighters of 11 Group, R.A.F. Fighter Command. The formation, in three waves, crossed the North Sea below fifty feet, in poor visibility and turbulent conditions. At least one crew had to physically wipe ice from the outside of the windscreen, thrown up by the spray from the sea, and Noel Shrimpton, the pilot of one of the Mosquitos, suffered cuts to his head, with blood streaming down his face, as a result of his head continuously banging against the canopy frame, due to the turbulence. The formations swept across Jutland at low level, and, approaching the City of Copenhagen, attacked the target at 11.15 a.m., local time. The raid had been planned, mounted and executed following an urgent request from the Danish resistance, via the Field Officer of the Special Operations Executive. The reason for this was that several key members of the Danish underground government, known as the Freedom Council, and a number of Danish Resistance members, had been captured by the Gestapo, and imprisoned in cells in the attic on the sixth (top) floor of the Shell House. As Intelligence reports via S.O.E. operatives revealed, if these prisoners were to reveal certain information, under brutal interrogation, the Nazis would round-up the entire Resistance network in Copenhagen, and, more than likely, the rest of Denmark, which would have resulted in the execution, or deportation to Concentration Camps, of a great many brave Danish patriots. The latter sentence would almost certainly have had the same outcome - death. Not only that, but the winding-up of the Danish resistance movement, would have led to the release of 100,000 German troops, who would no longer be required in Denmark. These troops would then be available to reinforce the German units engaged in the Battle of The Rhine, which could have had serious consequences, and may have even led to a major defeat for the Allies. Despite the practical difficulties, and attendant dangers, of attacking a single building in the heart of a major city, and the expected civilian casualties as a result of such an attack, the raid was requested, but only after Ole Lippmann had given the matter some very careful thought, whilst seeking the solitude of a forest outside Copenhagen. In his urgent message to the RAF, Major Lippmann had indicated that he understood, and accepted the fact, that fatalities and casualties could be expected. The request from the Danes could not be ignored After meticulous planning, involving the use of a scale model of the centre of the city, and photographs smuggled out of Denmark, the raid went ahead, and the target was successfully destroyed. 'Operation Carthage' was the longest low-level daylight operation ever carried out during the Second World War, but the costs were high. Out of 26 prisoners in the building, 8 were killed, or died after jumping from the fifth floor. The others escaped. In a tragic 'accident of war', 86 children and 16 adults lost their lives when the Jeanne D' Arc School, on the approach to the target, was accidentally hit by bombs, with a further
9 67 children and 35 adults being wounded. Those killed died as a result of drowning, in the cellars where they had taken shelter, when the Fire Services tried to control the blaze. A number of other lives were lost, and injuries sustained, elsewhere in the city during the raid. As for the Gestapo H.Q., it was totally destroyed by the bombing and subsequent fire, and the important Nazi archive records were lost. However, out of an estimated total of 72 killed in the building, 26 were members of the Gestapo, and 30 were Danish collaborators; the remainder were innocent Danes. Nine aircrew members were also lost during the raid, and one pilot, his aircraft hit by 'flak', crash-landed his Mustang and was taken prisoner. Two of the Mosquito fighter- bombers, and one of the F.P.U. Mosquitoes sustained 'flak' damage, and made emergency landings back in England. After the war, a memorial was raised in memory of those who perished at the Jeanne D' Arc school, and a plaque erected in the new Shell House in honour of the Resistance members who lost their lives. However, no memorial for the aircrew who sacrificed their lives existed. It was this fact that eventually changed the whole aim of the painting project.
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As time passed, and further contact with Derek was maintained, at some point, I'm not sure when exactly, the decision was made to organise an aircrew reunion, hopefully in Copenhagen, centred around the 50th anniversary of the raid, in1995. This decision was made for a very good reason. The North Zealand Aircraft Museum, the organisation with which Derek was involved, being on the Research Committee, had been forced to vacate their rented premises in 1992, and were planning to move to new premises sometime in 1993. As Derek's deep research had shown, no monument existed to honour the aircrew lost in the Shell House raid, and the decision had been taken to raise one, in the form of a Memorial Wall, on the site of the Museum's new premises. This was to be erected on consecrated ground, and assurances had been given by the local government that the memorial and its site would remain on consecrated ground, whatever the future of the Museum. It was planned to hold an exhibition at the new Museum, and in the Shell House, over the period of the 50th anniversary, when the Memorial would be unveiled and dedicated. This was good news, as it meant I could get on with the painting, somehow find the funding to have prints produced and, hopefully, get to Denmark, in order to have the prints signed by those aircrew who would be attending the anniversary and Memorial Service. Having thought about this, and knowing that Derek and his team needed to raise a considerable amount of money to fund the design, provision and construction of the Memorial, I thought that I might be able to help in the fund raising. I offered to donate at least a fair percentage from any revenue generated by the sale of prints towards the cost of the memorial, and this offer was gratefully accepted.
10 It was now May, 1992, and I had managed to gain full-time employment with another company in the graphics industry, although I suspected that the 'new venture' for which they recruited me would be short lived! By this time, Derek had supplied me with quite a large amount of information concerning the Shell House raid, and my own researches were progressing well. As a result, I was soon able to send Derek a provisional rough sketch, showing my ideas for the proposed painting, and asking for comments. Kate and I were married in June, and spent a pleasant couple of weeks driving through France to the Alps and back. On my return to work, I had the feeling that the company was not doing too well, and suspected that the 'writing was on the wall' when it came to my position. But, I still persevered, and at the same time carried on with the odd corporate event, painting, and further research into the Shell House raid, in order to gain a better understanding of the subject I would be attempting to paint. In October, just a couple of days after learning that Kate was pregnant, my fears about the state of the company were realised; things were changing rapidly within the graphics and printing industry, with a shift to electronic and digital imaging, and the company I was working for were deeply entrenched in the older, almost obsolete, end of the market. I was made redundant again, without a pay-out this time! It never rains but it pours, as they say! But life went on, and I was very interested to learn from Derek that he had established contact with a number of the surviving aircrew from 'Operation Carthage'! Not only had he been able to correspond, and speak to some of the men on the 'phone, he had also been able to visit some of the former aircrew during his travels, in Britain, Australia, and the U.S.A. - fantastic! In addition to this Sterling work, Derek had also managed to trace, and make contact with, former S.O.E. agents and Danish Resistance members! The amount of information Derek had been able to amass was truly staggering, and it now started to provide a much clearer, detailed insight into the raid. He was able to provide me with photographs and maps, and transcripts of dictated accounts of the raid, provided by the former aircrew he had interviewed. This, of course, was an immense help to me, allowing me to start the detailed planning for the proposed picture. I was so grateful for all of Derek's help; I felt I had to do something to repay him in some small way. Knowing that Derek was gradually increasing his collection of wartime memorabilia, and aware that he intended to create some form of display at the museum he and his colleagues were involved with, I was able to discover that he wanted a wartime British aircrew parachute, in order to complete a display of WW2 pilot's equipment and clothing. By somewhat nefarious, though entirely legal means, I was able to acquire a wartime seat-type parachute, complete with harness and pack, and a 'Mae West' life jacket. These were duly packed and despatched to Derek's brother in Norwich, who, in turn, ensured that they were delivered to Denmark. As the months progressed, the chances of gaining full-time employment diminished. I was approaching 41 years of age at the time, and reputable companies, although they would never admit it, seemed to want younger men!
11 I managed to get myself short-listed for a number of suitable positions, but it appeared that I was either 'over qualified', too old, or both! Fortunately, a somewhat wealthy friend came to my assistance, and was able to pay me a moderate amount to develop a business idea, which helped for awhile, as my redundancy package was running very low, but that's not really relevant to the story.
Derek continued with his in-depth research of 'Operation Carthage', among other research projects involving air operations during World War 2, and was able to supply more information, and introductions to some of the surviving aircrew, in order that I could obtain specific details direct. This was to include such things as the colour schemes of individual aircraft, some of which I knew, from studying black & white photographs supplied by Derek, bore slight differences in detail, an important consideration if I wanted to achieve accuracy and authenticity in the finished painting. Some of the research even extended to minor details, such as the type of flying clothing worn by particular aircrew members! Derek continued his research, and was even able to establish the precise location, off the Swedish coast, of the wreck of one of the Mosquitoes lost on the raid. Incredible! Meanwhile, I continued with my own research and planning, trying to work out how to compose the picture to depict the raid accurately, without it appearing too 'flat', or worse, over dramatic. I spent hours poring over maps of Copenhagen, including a period map, from 1946, and studying the angles in available photographs of the raid, and the area surrounding Shell House. To get a 'feel' for the raid, I produced a multitude of rough sketches, some showing the approach over the Danish coast, others depicting a formation of Mosquitoes flying low over the Danish countryside. But, mainly, the sketches centred on Shell House and its immediate surroundings. I was very aware, from studying those photographs I had at the time, that the attacking aircraft were extremely low, some actually below roof-top height! I began to wonder if I had bitten off more than I could chew! How on Earth could I paint such an incredibly complex scene? Portraying the cityscape itself would prove a daunting prospect, never mind trying to figure out how to accurately position the aircraft, yet keep the target, Shell House, in full view! The planning and research continued as time allowed, and I knew that Derek was also busy, across the North Sea in Denmark, when he wasn't travelling around the World! Soon, 1992 rolled over into 1993 and, although I had amassed an incredible amount of detailed information about the Shell House raid, more than four years had flown by, and I still hadn't even got any nearer to starting on the painting! Kate, now heavily pregnant, was fantastic in her support, encouraging me every step of the way. Considering the many set-backs we'd experienced, not least of which had been the ignominious end to the project with the framing franchise, she was more than patient! We had worked together, planning to release paintings and / or prints to celebrate various aviation anniversaries, only to be frustrated in our attempts, or worse, 'pipped at the post', by well-known, established artists, who had the means and backing to market high- quality, expensive, limited-edition prints. The idea of filling a niche in the market by offering realistically priced prints, as had been intended via the framing franchise, was
12 still viable. But the initial costs, both for production, and advertising & marketing, were prohibitive without the support of a company such as the one I had been allied to. Suddenly, not long before our daughter Josephine was born at the end of June, the possibility of a new job arose! This surprising revelation came from Derek, who informed me that Eskofot were looking at the possibility of opening a subsidiary company in Britain, and needed someone to manage the U.K. end of things. My name had been mentioned, and I was advised to contact the person dealing with the project, who I knew from my visits to the company's various locations in Denmark. My initial enquiries seemed encouraging, as my contact was aware of my experience, and knowledge of the company and its products. Although the suggested salary was excellent, there was a major draw-back. If the project went ahead, and I was employed, it would mean spending most of my time in Britain in the south of England, as well as a lot of travel throughout the U.K. Furthermore, regular trips to Denmark would be required. I was conscious of the fact that Kate, herself ten years younger than me, would be left alone, with a 'brand new' baby, for extended periods, and this did not inspire confidence. My doubts were sensed by my contact in Denmark and, although I didn't decline the position, neither did I make any real effort to follow-up, or negotiate possibilities. The matter was left to lapse, and I didn't find out if the project eventually got underway. But, there was no way I could have accepted the position, given the circumstances, however lucrative the rewards might have been.
So, it was back to doing whatever was available, and continuing with the planning for the picture. I got to work and prepared some preliminary rough sketches, showing ideas of how the finished painting might look. Copies of these were sent to various aircrew members across the World, asking for their comments and opinions. Replies soon poured in, with many valuable comments and observations. This allowed me to modify the scene in order to obtain the correct angles, heights and perspective, and also helped me to compose a relatively accurate depiction of the first wave's attack - I hoped! More correspondence, more comments and observations!
Josephine arrived, and Kate and I, mainly Kate I must add, were kept busy! Whilst all this was happening, other important issues were looming. Kate and I had been living in a rented apartment in an old Hall, a 'stately home' type of building which, although set in lovely grounds, and with excellent, very spacious accommodation at an affordable price, was proving a little difficult. The apartment was on the top floor, access being gained by ascending an ancient, oak staircase, which proved a major chore with a baby, a pram, shopping etc. Kate's mother had inherited a charming, historic cottage, by the side of a river, at the edge of a quiet village not far away from where we were living at the time, and it was intended that we should have moved in there before Josephine was born. However, the property needed to have extensive engineering work carried out, and we were assured that this would only take six weeks. No problem, we could be in before our baby arrived. No such luck! The engineering company took months and, even when they'd finished, there was a still hell of a lot of rebuilding, refitting, cleaning & decorating to be done.
13 Working feverishly, non-stop for a little over three weeks, staying late and sleeping some nights on a 'sun-lounger' in the dusty lounge, a cement mixer for company, I was able, with the occasional help of a friend who had a building company, to get the place ready. We built walls, re-wired, fitted doors; I built a 'new' kitchen and decorated throughout. Eventually, the three of us were able to move in early November, when Josephine was four months old! In no time it was Christmas, our first with our gorgeous baby daughter, then, suddenly, it was 1994!
By the early part of the New Year, Derek had really progressed with his plans for a reunion in Copenhagen. He had enlisted the help of some more of his Danish aviation- enthusiast friends, and a provisional committee was formed, whose rôle was to organise a 50th anniversary reunion, to take place in Copenhagen, on 21st March, 1995. At this time, I had fully grasped the opportunity of speaking to, or corresponding with, some of the aircrew involved in the raid, in order to obtain some 'fine details'. Apart from assembling an incredibly huge amount of material, in preparation for his proposed book on the Shell House raid, Derek had also provided me with a vast amount of detail, including maps showing the tracks of the aircraft, flak positions, and key points in the city. There were numerous photographs; of aircraft, Shell House from various angles, the buildings in the immediate vicinity, views across and along the approach to the target and, a colour shot of the model used in the briefing of the crews! The latter was extremely useful, as it allowed me to calculate heights, perspective, and angles for composing the picture. Perhaps the single most exciting item in the large package of documents received was a video cassette. This included the 1970's T.V. documentary, which was very useful but, low and behold, there was also original black and white footage of virtually the entire raid, filmed by the F.P.U. Mosquitoes, as it happened! Derek had obtained this footage, some of which had never been shown before, through the extremely generous assistance of the Imperial War Museum who, naturally, had insisted that it would not be loaned or copied, and Derek had to sign documents agreeing to this. I was warned, in no uncertain terms, not to lend it, show it or copy it, otherwise the penalties, mainly to Derek, would be severe! Needless to say, I took heed of this warning, ensuring the video was locked away after use. Then, the focus changed totally.
By this time, Derek had been researching the events leading up to the raid, the attack itself, and the aftermath, in great detail for six years . He had originally embarked on the initial research back in 1974, and so had dedicated a major part of his life to the subject! I don't know all the details behind what happened next but, for whatever reason, the planned memorial could no longer go ahead. Naturally, Derek and his team were devastated, and had to start planning all over again! A new site would have to be found, a design for the memorial itself would be needed and, more importantly, funds would be required to finance the project. After a little thought, I got in touch with Derek, and mentioned an idea about having the memorial at Shell House itself, if possible. This had already been discussed by the
14 committee, but the idea brought its own problems. Any design that could be used at Shell House would have to satisfy various standards, set by both the Shell Oil Company, and the City Fathers, in order to fit into the surroundings and not damage or deface the fabric of the building. But the main problem still involved the funding required to have a memorial designed, manufactured and erected. I suggested that it may still be possible to raise money for a suitable memorial, from the proceeds from the sale of limited edition prints of my painting, but adding this time that I was prepared to donate the original picture, and did not seek any financial reward from the sale of prints; then all proceeds could go towards the raising of a suitable memorial. The suggestion was received warmly, and enquiries commenced as to the best way of having the picture reproduced and marketed. An official committee was formed in Denmark, the Royal Air Forces - Shell House Memorial Committee, with its Patron being Her Majesty's Britannic Ambassador to Denmark, Mr. H.J.Arbuthnott. I pointed out that, although I would gladly donate the original painting, which would measure 30 x 40 inches (75 x 100cm.), I was not in a position to be able to fund the reproduction of high-quality prints. Derek and his Committee took up this challenge, and started to seek sponsors. He also worked feverishly, attending to every little detail, in order to fully coordinate the unveiling and dedication of the proposed memorial on the target date, the 21st March, 1995, the 50th anniversary of the raid. Derek had taken on a truly mammoth task; with less than a year to go before the 'big day', he had to arrange flights and accommodation for aircrew, V.I.P.'s and dignitaries from all over the World, and find sponsors to cover the cost of everything, from air travel to the catering and transport needed during the event! He also had to find sponsors to cover the reproduction costs of the prints, and find a design for a suitable memorial! I am happy to say that I was able to assist with this latter task. Twelve years or so before, I had worked closely with the R.A.F. Battle of Britain Memorial Flight, when I produced an Audio Visual presentation, 'A Flight of Merlins', describing the history and activities of the Flight. I decided that I had nothing to lose in calling a contact at the Flight's base at R.A.F. Conningsby, if he was still there, in order to make initial enquiries to find out if they could possibly have any suitable artefacts that might serve as a memorial. I explained the situation and, to my surprise and delight, I was informed that they had a surplus, time-expired propeller blade, complete with hub, believed to be from a D.H. Mosquito! "Would that do?" My contact enquired. Would it do?!!! I couldn't wait to inform Derek, and soon passed on the news. We both agreed that, restored, polished and preserved, a Mosquito-type propeller blade would make an excellent and fitting memorial. There was one slight problem though. The large blade, complete with its machined, variable pitch hub, weighed a considerable amount, and it would be difficult, and costly, to transport to Denmark. However, Derek and his team had, by now, generated immense interest, enthusiasm and support for the project, and had gained the cooperation and support of a multitude of diverse organisations.
15 In a very short time, the propeller blade was flown out to Denmark, as far as I remember, courtesy of a C130 Hercules of the Royal Danish Air Force! The blade was eventually cleaned, and then a bronze cast was made from it, the work being undertaken, and sponsored, by a local company in Copenhagen. Once again, the cooperation and support was magnificent!
Things were really starting to move on, and I needed to get cracking! What had started as a casual request, six years previously, had now changed into a full- blown, multi-national, Diplomatic event! By now, there was a little less than a year to go before the 50th anniversary of the raid, and I had a lot of work to do if I was to get the painting finished, allow it to dry thoroughly, and then pack it off to Derek in Copenhagen in time to have the prints produced. I set to work, the lounge and balcony of the cottage strewn with maps, diagrams, photographs and sketches. How Kate put up with it, I'll never know!
* * *
THE REAL WORK BEGINS
Having assembled all of the information and photographs I had been provided with, I had already produced two sketches showing possible options for the finished painting, copies of which had been circulated some months before, to various aircrew members for comment, and their observations acted upon. I wanted to show the aircraft, or at least one of them, in some detail; after all, the aircraft themselves were the main subject of the picture. But, I also needed to show the target, Shell House, clearly. This aspect wasn't as simple as it may sound, as the building, being on the corner of a road junction, and 'attached' to its 'neighbour', would be hidden from view from certain angles. Because of the possible conflict of the background, a side view of the aircraft could only be achieved if the viewer was looking at the aircraft on their port side, with the attacking Mosquitoes flying from right to left. This was not a major problem but, it would mean that the painting could look very much like a well-known photograph of the raid, and also the target wouldn't be that distinctive, being a continuation of the next-door building. The best view of the target could be achieved, if viewed from the same angle as the approaching aircraft. However, this would cause two problems, one purely associated with the work involved, and the other regarding the aircraft. The first problem, to do with the work I would have to do, meant that I would have to accurately portray virtually the whole of the city of Copenhagen, as it looked in 1945! If I took this almost impossible second option, and painted the picture from the view point of the approaching aircraft, the target building would be beautifully presented, but, the viewer would be seeing the Mosquitoes from the rear; not a particularly inspiring, or dramatic view!
16 It would also mean that, to avoid 'clutter' and confusion in the picture, only one aircraft would be visible. I had decided that a view looking back to the target, from one of two angles, would be the best option, and made two sketches, showing the leading Mosquito, followed by the rest of the first wave. One of these sketches viewed the lead Mosquito from slightly above and head-on, with Shell House at centre right of the frame, with the second aircraft banking around tightly behind. The flight-path of the first aircraft was far from accurate, according to the information provided, but this could be changed if required. The other sketch, larger and slightly more detailed, showed a view looking directly back at Shell House, slightly to the port (left) side of the lead Mosquito, the right side as viewed. This particular scene, apart from giving a clear view of Shell House, also allowed a better 'lead in' to the 'following' aircraft and, with the Technical Institute almost directly below and behind, gave an idea of the extremely low height, and speed of the attack. The angle of the flight-path was still not quite accurate, but it was fairly close to that actually flown, and the drawing included a 'thumbnail' sketch and diagram, showing how the angles could be corrected, but at the cost of some 'masking' of the target. The sketches had been sent off, comments and corrections had been noted on each, and copies passed back to me. Although it was agreed that the angle of the attack was not quite accurate, the consensus was that the second sketch described, actually headed 'Sketch No.1', captured the atmosphere and action, was more than acceptable, and was favourite. It would be this sketch then, that the painting would be based upon.
One of the original rough pencil sketches circulated to the aircrew for comment.
It was now April 1994, with just over ten months to go before the anniversary. I had to allow time not only to paint the picture, which I knew would take a very long time, but also allow for it to dry and harden completely, before it would be safe enough to pack for despatch. Derek had informed me that sponsors had been found to do the reproduction and printing. Apparently Eskofot, Derek's employers, had become involved, and would
17 produce the colour separations and so on, using their superb equipment, whilst the actual printing was to be undertaken by one of their major clients. Another fine example of the enthusiasm and cooperation generated by this project! With the sketches approved, it was now time to get down to the actual painting, which I had been itching to do for more than six years! I had already decided that, in order to allow for the best possible reproduction when reduced down to the final image size for the prints, I would need to make the painting relatively large, but not too big to cause transport problems, and had settled on a canvas size of 30 x 40 inches. (approx.75 x 100cm.) The first task was to work out exactly where the aircraft would be positioned in relation to the background and the 'vanishing point'. The latter is the point within the picture that appears furthest away from the viewer, and can often also be the 'entry' point to the scene. In the prints, the 'vanishing point' is the site of the crash near the railway yards and the Jeanne D' Arc School, the smoke shown on the horizon in the top left of the picture, which more or less corresponds to the original drawing. With this settled the canvas was marked out to give rough lines for the horizon, and the rows of buildings that would appear in the picture, and then the outlines of the aircraft were drawn onto the canvas and highlighted in black paint. To do this accurately, I enlarged one of my original detailed drawings of a Mosquito, traced its outline and drew it onto the canvas. The same process was carried out for the second aircraft, the others being drawn freehand. I had used a 1/48th scale model of a Mosquito to help me get the all-important shape and dimensions right when producing the original drawings. Now came the difficult bit! The background to the picture, apart from showing Shell House and the buildings in the immediate vicinity, would also show a huge expanse of Copenhagen, looking roughly west to the horizon, from the Technical Institute in the immediate foreground. I knew that I could have problems here if I didn't get the perspective right, and pondered for a while on the best way to achieve this accurately, and convincingly. I spent a long time viewing the huge collection of photographs Derek had sent me, some of which had been specially taken to reveal detail features. It was whilst I was looking at the large colour photographs of the original briefing model that a sudden idea came to me. I knew it would take time, but I also knew that it would pay dividends eventually. I decided that I would have to build a card model of the target and the surrounding area, in order to get everything right! With the model built, I used it to view across the cardboard 'rooftops' in order to align everything correctly, and drew in the various streets, buildings etc. on the canvas. I was then able to commence painting the background, starting with the sky. This was a fairly straightforward task, as I knew, from the original film footage and from descriptions provided by the aircrew, that it was a grey sky, with thin layered cloud and a weak sun shining through dully, and a fairly strong wind blowing. With this complete, work on the cityscape began. I have to admit, at this stage I began to wonder if I could do it, and really did think I had taken on too much! The work progressed, slowly, as I had to let each stage of painting dry before going on to the next.
18 Meanwhile, Derek and the Committee were working like Trojans to ensure everything would be organised in time. We kept in touch as regularly as possible, and Derek informed me that he had tracked down further aircrew, who would hopefully be able to attend the reunion. He also told me that those he had spoken to were looking forward to seeing the painting, which gave me enormous encouragement. The work on the painting was going fairly well, although it was very time-consuming, and often frustrating. * * * ANOTHER BLOW
Time seemed to pass very quickly, and it was now early autumn 1994, with the painting well advanced. I had experienced a few difficulties, mainly with the perspective and some of the detail painting, but I had started on the aircraft. The Mosquito, although a beautifully simple, smooth shape, can be a difficult aircraft to draw or paint accurately , especially from certain angles. I think the reason for this might be that it is so smooth, with very little in the way of 'surface detail', such as prominent hatches, or panel joint-lines, and therefore there is little to help give a sense of depth, or shape; illustrating the F.B.VI fighter-bomber also creates different problems to that of the Mk.IV bomber, as I found out as I started on the main subject aircraft. However, frustrated but undeterred, I corrected the mistakes and carried on. I was aware that a number of the aircrew veterans involved in the project had already commented on the shape of the Mosquito, stating that most of the paintings they had seen often depicted the aircraft incorrectly, and they were at pains to point this out, hoping that I would get it right! (One particular pilot had stated that he would only be prepared to sign the prints if the picture was good!) So, no pressure then! Then, a totally unexpected hammer blow hit me hard, right between the eyes! I received a long and very apologetic letter from Derek. He explained that, following a meeting of the committee, certain decisions had been taken regarding the painting. Although the committee felt that the idea of raising funds from the sale of prints was a sound one, doubts had been raised. It was thought that it might be a better idea to commission a well know, top selling aviation artist to paint the original picture, thereby providing a better chance of increasing sales, due to the 'name', compared to an unknown artist! Although I could see the sense in this, and was very aware that certain aviation artist's limited edition prints sold out as soon as issued, with prices on the secondary market being in the high hundreds of Pounds, sometimes thousands, I was staggered, and just a little annoyed! Derek, too, was unhappy. He realised that, in a small way, some aspects of the Memorial project had stemmed from my original idea, as I had 'set him off' as he put it, and he had gone to great lengths to try to have the committee's decision over ruled, without success. He was very apologetic that he had been unable to sway the committee from their decision.
19 A week or two passed as I considered this blow. I had been told that I would still be invited to the reunion, as a sort of 'thank you' for my efforts, and for the help in acquiring the propeller blade. But I knew it wouldn't be the same. After a while, I continued with the painting, thinking that, after all, I had always wanted to do this particular one and that I might as well finish it. I carried on painting until, one night, frustrated by yet another minor mistake I had had enough and put a knife through it! Over six years of research, sketching and eventually painting were ruined in a second! Without a word to Kate, who was acutely aware of my disappointment, I went to the pub!
* * *
A CHANGE OF HEART
The year 1994 was slowly drawing to a close, and Kate and I were preparing for our second Christmas with Josephine, who was a delight, as she was now walking and playing around mischievously, like any 18 month old would. Then, I got a 'phone call from Derek one day that changed everything. Again! It transpired that the committee in Denmark had contacted a very well known, highly acclaimed aviation artist in England, who had already produced at least two other Mosquito pictures, to enquire if he could do the painting, and have prints made from it through the particular fine-art company he was contracted to, or associated with. This artist, whose work I have always admired, had agreed that he could do it, and sign the limited edition print run. However, there was a catch. It turned out that the artist wanted a very substantial deposit in advance, I can't remember the figure now, but I do know it was at least five to ten times that which I would have charged for an original painting at the time, depending on size! In addition, the artist (and, I think, 'his' company.) required a particularly high fee for the original painting itself, which would remain his property, and he would retain all future reproduction rights. Derek explained that the committee did not have the necessary funds to accept these terms, and certainly could not stretch to paying the fee demanded for the actual painting. I knew that Derek, apart from devoting an enormous amount of his own time to this project so far, had also invested a substantial amount of his own money, in order to get to where he (and the committee.) had reached. Explaining that he would fully understand if I told him 'where to go' (He used much stronger language, I must add!), Derek then informed me that the committee had asked him to approach me, on their behalf, in order to see if I would still be willing to paint the picture, and let it be used for reproduction. My immediate reaction was 'of course I will', but I didn't admit that straight away! After a few seconds thought, I told Derek that they (the committee) had a bit of a cheek, after dropping me at the last minute, and that anyway, I had slashed the picture out of anger and frustration. I recall hearing Derek's groan of disappointment, and then gave him the good news!
20 I was genuinely pleased to tell him that I would start work on a new painting, and get it completed as quickly as possible, as I was aware of the shrinking deadline. I think that Derek was relieved, but he did warn me that the deadline had grown shorter. He explained that, in order to save on expense, he had arranged sponsorship for the reproduction and printing, which would be undertaken by his employer, Eskofot, and their client. This would mean that some of the work would have to be done in 'spare time', probably by Derek himself, and therefore the picture would be needed by the beginning of February, at the very latest! That gave me a month, allowing for the Christmas holidays, and I set to work the following day, dashing to the local art shop to purchase a new canvas, and starting the layout as soon as I got back.
In some ways, things had worked out well, as I was able to reconsider the original sketch, and alter the angles slightly. This made the flight-path of the aircraft more accurate, and tightened the foreground of the picture, with the Technical Institute now much closer. This in turn provided a better view of most of Shell House, and allowed the lead aircraft, now changed to Group Captain Bateson's Mosquito, the actual leader, to appear lower. The original sketches had shown the main subject as the actual second aircraft in the first wave, for two very simple reasons. Firstly, I had been told that Group Captain Bateson's aircraft had a chequered-painted nose, which sounded unusual for a 'Mossie', and no information or details regarding the design were available whatsoever. This meant that a truly accurate portrayal of the event would be impossible if this aircraft was included in the scene. It could possibly be compared to painting a portrait of Nelson at Trafalgar, on the wrong ship, and with the patch over the wrong eye! Pedantic maybe, but participating aircrew were going to see this picture, and sign the prints, and I had a duty to get things absolutely right considering the effort put in by all concerned, especially Derek. The second reason the scene was arranged the way it was, is because I wanted to clearly and easily indicate the target to the viewer, by showing the smoke from the bombs dropped by the first aircraft, which would have departed rapidly by the time they actually exploded! The problem was solved fairly easily. Despite everything, and with irritating conflicts in information supplied, I could find no hard evidence that the lead Mosquito had a chequered nose and, without doubting the sources of the information in any way, I couldn't help recalling the incident regarding the lead aircraft in the original sketch, which I had portrayed with black spinners, including a note on the sketch emphasising this. The Flight Sergeant in charge of the ground crew for this aircraft, (coded YH-Y, of 21 Sqn., R.A.F.) having examined my sketch, stated that it had light grey spinners, not black. This colour, which was officially referred to as 'Medium Sea Grey', would be quite correct for the camouflage scheme of the period. However, the F.P.U. film footage clearly showed this aircraft with spinners finished in a very dark shade, almost certainly black! (Certain Mosquitoes did sometimes have black spinners.) As it happened, I didn't want to upset anyone, especially someone who had gone to the trouble of vetting the sketches, and the finished painting showed this particular aircraft with Medium Sea Grey spinners!
21 So, when it came to the chequered nose and the painting, with no actual recorded visual evidence for this particular aircraft, no known record of any other Mosquito, from any unit, having distinctive nose markings of this sort, and certainly no hint of a chequered nose in the film footage, and thinking that if I couldn't find details, then no one else would know about the colours, I took the chance and painted the aircraft in the 'standard' finish! As for the 'exploding' bombs, the first two aircraft's bombs were fitted with 30 second delay fuses, the other aircraft with 11 second delay fuses. Therefore, there wouldn't be any explosions or smoke visible from the bombs, only the dust raised by their impact as they penetrated the walls of the building! So, now the painting would depict the entire first wave, from the leader to the rear aircraft, with the exception, of course, of Wing Commander Kleboe's Mosquito, which crashed near the Jeanne D' Arc School.
All of the research and planning for the picture had taken a very considerable amount of time and effort to date, particularly on the part of Derek Carter, and there is a relatively simple answer to explain the reasons for this. Those pictures already painted by other artists, of other famous Mosquito raids had, in the main, been based on available photographs and / or film footage taken during the raids depicted, and there is nothing wrong with that. However, due to the fact that the leading F.P.U. Mosquito had been forced to take evasive action when Kleboe's aircraft hit a 30 metre-high lighting tower, and because of technical problems with the rear-facing cameras onboard the leading aircraft, the attack by the first wave of Mosquitoes was not recorded on film, therefore I did not have the luxury of a photograph on which to base the angles or positions of aircraft, or the desired view of Shell House. Without the results of Derek's research, it would not have been possible to provide an accurate (as far as was possible) rendition of this important moment of the raid.
A few days later it was Christmas, and of course all work on the painting had to stop. Just as soon as the festive holiday was over, I got down to work with a vengeance, and in a fairly short time the background was laid out in basic form, with the outlines of the aircraft finally positioned. As a result of the very narrow deadline now in place, the overall scene was changed slightly as described, which would help to save time painting the picture, but the original 'theme' remained the same, and if anything, was now more accurate. The days passed quickly, and in no time it was mid January, with only a week or so to go before I needed to get the picture sent off to Denmark. I started working through the night, and this brought its own problems, one of which I didn't fully appreciate until the painting had been despatched and received by Derek. The fact that I was sitting at my easel in the middle of the night didn't really please Kate, as she had her hands full with Josephine during the day and, quite rightly, needed my support. A tired and distracted husband and father was a bit of a nuisance, and not much help. The other problems associated with working during the night involved lighting. Because of the relatively dim artificial light I had to rely on, supplemented by a 'daylight' bulb in a flexible desk lamp, I made a few mistakes with detail areas of the picture, and
22 these had to be repainted which, apart from being time consuming, and therefore a potential delay in meeting the deadline, it was frustrating, to say the least. (Stronger expressions were used at the time!)
Blinded by the light! Caught in the act, in the dead of night !
Eventually, the painting was about 95% complete, with all of the major areas taken care of, and I could now turn to the fine detail work. This involved small areas, such as a reflection in a window here, a road sign there, and 'weathering' to the main-subject aircraft and so on, i.e. paint chips, exhaust stains, dirt etc. (One aircrew member later remarked that the main aircraft looked a little too clean!) To assist me in this task, I relied heavily on the wartime photographs of the area, and on the recently taken photographs provided by Derek and, after a day or two of this work, and nearly seven years of research and planning, I sat back and viewed the finished picture. For some reason, I am never completely satisfied with my paintings. Perhaps that is because, between visualising the scene, and actually painting the picture, some things change. These can be small details, the lighting, or the overall scene, I don't know, and probably never will. As I stood back from the fairly large canvas, which I had been sitting close to for what seemed like half a lifetime, I experienced this feeling again. Not only was I not totally happy with the finished result, there were areas that I really didn't like! 'Oh, well, too late now!' I thought to myself as I walked in to the lounge to ask Kate's opinion. I have always relied on Kate to give me her truthful, and sometimes blunt opinion of my work. She tended not to view my pictures too often during the painting process, normally refraining from comment unless she spotted something glaringly wrong, or perhaps a little something that needed 'tweaking', then she would offer suggestions.
23 I stood back as Kate viewed the finished picture for the first time, holding my breath as I watched her, waiting for her comments. Her reaction was more than encouraging. Kate studied the picture for a long time, and then moved closer, looking at various areas of the detail work. Eventually, she stood back, turned to me and smiled. She liked it, and told me that it drew her in, and looked right. That was good enough for me and, happy and relieved, I went to bed.
A few days later, the paint was dry and hard enough to accept the first coat of artist's varnish, and this was applied, followed by further coats of semi-matt U.V. protective varnish after the first coats were fully 'cured'. When I was finally sure that the picture had totally 'set', and could be packed, it was wrapped in tissue paper, covered by foam padding, and sandwiched in a sturdy case of hardboard attached to a solid wooden frame, which I knocked together in a very short space of time. A day later, at the beginning of February, 1995, the package, which now weighed quite a few kilos, was collected by 'Parcel Force' and taken away. It arrived at the Eskofot Head Office in Bellerup, Copenhagen at 7.30 the next morning. So, after virtually seven years, at least 100 hours of painting on the final picture, and many joys and frustrations, the painting of 'Operation Carthage' was finished, and ready to be reproduced into limited-edition prints.
* * *
INTO PRINT
Derek wasted no time in confirming the arrival of the painting, and I was relieved to hear that he thought it was good. He told me that work on reproduction would be starting in a few days time, and that he would be in touch regarding the arrangements for the 50th anniversary celebrations in Copenhagen, which were now only seven weeks away! True to his word, Derek sent me a bundle of information a fortnight or so later, outlining the itinerary for the visit to Copenhagen. It seemed that Kate and I had been delegated, along with some members of the Mosquito Aircrew Association, to escort some of the veteran aircrew and other guests during the journey, and also to act as 'officials' and representatives (Dog's bodies, according to Derek!) during the course of the anniversary celebrations; an unexpected honour which was greatly appreciated. I made a point of 'phoning Derek at his home to confirm I had received the information and to thank him for letting Kate and I get 'officially' involved in the event. It was then that Derek told me of two errors he had found in the painting! As previously mentioned, a lot of the actual painting had been done in less than ideal lighting conditions. As a result, the green tone used on the Mosquito camouflage scheme was not quite right. I remembered that I had experienced problems obtaining the right shade of green to mix in order to obtain a colour that would represent, on the canvas, 'R.A.F. Dark Green', and had used a different paint, mixed with yellows and browns, to
24 achieve an approximation. This looked passable, in artificial light, on the original painting at the time but, when it came to the printing stage, the green looked totally wrong! [In some areas of art, for example a general landscape picture, the specific shade of a particular colour of an object or feature, for instance rocks, or even grass, might not be that important, as long as the colour looks more or less right, and therefore acceptable. However, in a picture such as the Shell House painting, where specific camouflage colours are a known shade or hue, then it is vitally important to ensure that the colour is represented correctly for the lighting conditions portrayed in the picture .] My heart sank, until Derek informed me that, as a result of using the latest scanning equipment produced by Eskofot, it had been possible to digitally alter the tone and shade, which now looked more acceptable! Thank God for modern technology! The green tone was still far from perfect, but was 'good enough'. (When I eventually saw the prints for the first time, I remember thinking that the green tone, in some ways, possibly looked better than I could have achieved with the intended paint mix, as it gave a 'damp' appearance, in line with the weather conditions at the time depicted.) When asked what the second error was, Derek casually told me that the colour of a road sign had to be altered, and again this had been achieved digitally. A road sign!? Derek explained, and after I finished our conversation, I checked all of my reference photographs in order to see what he meant, and sure enough, I found it. To the left of Shell House in the picture, on the pavement near the main entrance, is a road sign that signals 'No Entry' which, on the original painting probably measures no more than about 5 or 6 millimetres in diameter. I knew it was in existence during the war, as it appeared in a photograph I had been supplied with, one which had been taken covertly by a very brave Danish Resistance member, not long before the raid. This black & white photograph showed the sign from an angle, with other signs, in Danish and German on a nearby barrier, which declared that the area was 'Forbidden' and no entry was allowed. I remember asking if this particular road sign, the face of which was not fully visible in the wartime photograph, was a 'No Entry' sign, and this was confirmed. Assuming that the sign would be the same as all Continental road signs of this type, the style of which was only introduced to Britain in the mid 1960's, I painted this as a red disc with a central horizontal white bar. I didn't know that, in Denmark during the period depicted in the painting, this sign would have had three totally different markings, on a yellow background. A quick lesson in the importance of thorough research! I was relieved to hear that all was well, and the arrangements for the anniversary celebrations, and the dedication of the Memorial were going smoothly.
The time was rapidly approaching when Kate and I would have to travel to Denmark, and leave our daughter Josephine with Kate's mother, which we both knew was going to be hard.
25 Only a matter of three or four weeks before the event, I received some very sad news from Derek. One of the aircrew from the raid, who had been instrumental in helping and encouraging Derek for years, had died suddenly, and another was too ill to travel. However, as Derek explained, at the last count there should be at least 7 aircrew members present, including Mosquito crews and Mustang pilots, together with S.O.E. agents and at least one Danish Resistance veteran who had escaped from Shell House during the raid. It had also been arranged for some of the aircrew who were unable to attend the event in Copenhagen, to add their signatures to some of the prints at a later date. This was great news, and I was really looking forward to being at the event, and having the opportunity, and privilege, of meeting these remarkable men, one or two of whom I had spoken with on the 'phone. There was nothing else to do now but wait.
* * *
THE 50th ANNIVERSARY
With guests travelling from America, Canada, Australia, Spain, Belgium, Germany and Britain, Derek had worked a logistical miracle, organising flights, transport and accommodation, and managing to find sponsorship to cover most of the costs! Writing this thirteen years after the event, I can't quite remember all of the details regarding all of the flight arrangements, but I do remember that Derek had persuaded Air UK Ltd. to provide flights, free of charge, from Britain. This meant departing from Stansted, in Essex, to Kastrup airport, Copenhagen.
So it was that on 20th March 1995, Kate and I arrived at Stansted airport to meet with the group of aircrew and other guests we were tasked with escorting. I have to admit to a little trepidation at this point, as at least two of these men, who I hadn't met before, held very senior rank and were highly decorated, and I wondered how they would react to me, a former 'Para' and a mere artist! I needn't have worried, as everyone I met was extremely polite and friendly, and it soon became clear that we would all get along well together. One of the honoured guests was the legendary Battle of Britain fighter pilot, Wing Commander J.A. ('JAS') Storrar, a remarkable man, and a real gentleman. At the time, he was having a little difficulty walking any distance, having been ill for awhile, and at first, it was thought that perhaps he might not be able to attend the event. But, as he said to me at the time, "I wouldn't miss it for the World!" Air UK very kindly provided 'Jas' with a wheelchair, much to his consternation! It didn't take long for Kate to take control and, when it was time to go to the shuttle train to then reach the departure gate, Kate insisted on guiding 'Jas' along the corridors in his chair, with him calling out the odd formation command, such as 'Break Left!', in order to avoid other 'conflicting traffic'! We boarded the BAe146, where we were all treated as V.I.P.'s, and off we went, flying smoothly over the North Sea towards Denmark at a considerably higher altitude than the R.A.F. 2 Group Mosquitoes had in 1945!
26
It was dark by the time we disembarked at Kastrup, where we were met in the quiet terminal by John Schou Nielsen, a big, friendly Dane and chairman of the committee, along with other representatives, including an officer of the Royal Danish Air Force. In a relay of cars, the honoured guests of course going first, we were transported to the S.A.S. Radisson Hotel, near the centre of the beautiful city of Copenhagen. After quickly checking-in and 'dumping' our luggage in our room, Kate and I found our way to the conference room being used for the event, to find a briefing already underway. There were quite a number of people present and, judging by the number of chairs already arranged in ranks, it appeared that the next day's gathering was going to be large. Eventually, I was able to introduce Kate to Derek, who in turn introduced us to the other aircrew and some of the other V.I.P.'s who had already arrived. After confirming arrangements for the following day, and checking by 'phone that Josephine was alright, we retired, ready for the next full day ahead.
It is not necessary to give a full account of the celebrations for the 50th anniversary of the Shell House raid, as this story is about the painting. Indeed, any account of the event should be written by Derek Carter, as he was the one who organised and ultimately controlled it. However, in order to complete the story of the painting, I will provide a brief outline, covering the major aspects of what proved to be a fantastic and very emotive visit to Copenhagen, fifty years to the day after 'Operation Carthage', the Shell House attack.
The morning of 21st March 1995 was bright and sunny, with a beautiful view from the hotel bedroom window across the city of Copenhagen. Over breakfast in our hotel, Kate and I studied the folder we had been given outlining the itinerary for the next three days. The first thing I noticed was the guest list. This ran to two full pages and, apart from the veteran aircrews and their wives, it included a host of dignitaries and other V.I.P.'s. There were five Ambassadors, including the Danish Foreign Secretary; the Mayor of Copenhagen, numerous senior officers from the Royal Air Force, the Royal Danish Air Force and other military units, as well as representatives of the clergy and of course, the sponsors, one of which was the Director of Eskofot. Also included were survivors of the Danish Resistance who had escaped from Shell House, as well as Major Ole Lippmann, O.B.E., R.D., the former S.O.E. officer who had requested the attack on the Gestapo building. Added to this was a list of representatives from the families of those aircrew lost in the attack, and also representatives of the next of kin of those participating aircrew who had sadly passed away since the end of the war, plus numerous other guests. Coaches took us from the hotel to St. Alban's Church, were a memorial service was conducted by the Rev. Canon David Prosser, and then it was back on the coach, to assemble outside the new Shell House in time for the dedication service, due to commence at 11.00 a.m.
27
Gathering for the Commemoration Service at St.Alban’s Church, Copenhagen. Nearby is the Museum to the Resistance. The Memorial was unveiled and there, mounted on the wall above the entrance to the Shell shop, was the gleaming, cast bronze, Mosquito propeller blade. Moving speeches were delivered by John Schou Nielson, Maj. Ole Lippmann, Derek Carter and Air Commodore E.B. (Ted) Sismore, D.S.O., D.F.C. and 2 Bars, A.F.C., R.D., who had been the lead navigator on the raid.
The propeller blade Memorial
28 Below; some of the wreaths laid on the Memorial plaques set into the step leading into the Shell Shop.
During a period of silence, I took the opportunity to look around briefly, and was stunned! The streets behind me were absolutely packed, it looked like the whole of Copenhagen had gathered in silence! No traffic moved on the normally busy streets, and there were many T.V. and Press cameras in evidence. Even teenagers and the very young stood in respectful silence as, at precisely 11.15 a.m., fifty years to the minute after the raid, the dedication service of the Memorial commenced. I heard a faint sound, and looked up to see a Cessna 172 light aircraft heading towards the building, on exactly the same track used by the Mosquitoes fifty years before, but a lot higher! I discovered later that it was a T.V. crew, filming the crowds, and recreating the flight path of the attack for Danish television. Wreaths were laid by the British Ambassador, and various other V.I.P.'s, including Flt. Lt. Knowle Shrimpton, D.F.C., one of the Mosquito pilots, and his former navigator, F.O. Peter Lake, D.F.C. As the ceremony ended, the invited guests were ushered through the crowds to have tea, courtesy of A/S Dansk Shell, inside Shell House. I remember being rather embarrassed when some people shook my hand as I politely pushed my way through the huge crowd. I assume that they associated me with the veterans, and just wanted to express their gratitude. Whatever the reason, it was very touching, even more so when one elderly Danish gentleman pointed to the Parachute Regiment tie I wore, clapped me on the shoulder, and then shook my hand warmly, a huge smile on his face and tears in his eyes. Once inside Shell House, we were given a hugely warm welcome by the staff, and by the ladies in the restaurant. It was then that I realised that we were all sitting very near to the place where the Gestapo's cells had been located at the time of the attack in 1945! A shiver ran through me as I absorbed this realisation; I don't think I had ever been inside what was once a R.A.F. target!
29 After tea, the large party were taken to the memorial at the site of the Jeanne D' Arc School, and then to Bispebjerg Churchyard, where the remains of three of the aircrew lost in the raid are buried, so that wreaths could be laid, once again in moving ceremonies. At the churchyard, which was beautifully kept, a Guard of Honour from the Danish R.O.C. Luftmeldekorps stood at attention during the ceremony, looking very smart in their Air Force uniforms. After this ceremony, I wandered around, looking at the gravestones, and noticed there were some bearing the badge of the British Parachute Regiment, unknown men whose bodies had, I believe, been washed up on a Danish beach during World War Two. (I would love to discover the story behind these graves.) It was then back to Shell House for a light lunch, where Kate and I sat enthralled, listening to some of Ted Sismore's stories from the early part of the war, including a 'hairy' one about how he fell out of a Fairey Battle when his Polish pilot inverted it to escape enemy fire! (Needless to say, Ted was able to climb back in!) After lunch, it was time to return to the hotel, have a short break, and then commence the signing of the prints.
The gathering at the memorial at the site of the Jeanne D’Arc school.
30
The scene at the Commonwealth Cemetery, Bispjerg, where the aircrew lost on the operation were laid to rest
* * *
THE PRINTS ARE SIGNED
Although I had been looking forward to this moment for a very long time, I was full of dread as Kate and I walked into the room where the signing was to take place. Up to this point, the only people who had seen the prints were Derek and the committee members. None of the participating aircrew, Resistance veterans or Major Lippmann had any idea what the picture looked like! Forgetting my small contribution to the event, a lot of people had gone to a lot of trouble and expense in order to organise just this one part of the day's proceedings and, apart from me, twelve other people were due to sign these prints - seven of them had flown on the raid, four had been set free by the raid, and one had requested the raid! What if they didn't like the picture? It didn't bear thinking about! I looked around as I walked across the vast, carpeted room, Kate by my side. There was a long row of joined tables, dressed with crisp, white cloths, jugs of fruit juice with glasses, and a large stack of prints on one end. Behind the table was a row of thirteen chairs, with neat piles of pencils ready at each place. I sensed a bit of a buzz, and turned, surprised to see studio lighting, T.V. cameras with their crews, and Press photographers and journalists ready and waiting! I had been told there would be some Press coverage, but I hadn't expected this!
31 I vaguely remember someone thrusting a microphone in front of my face, and asking questions. I have absolutely no idea what my reply was! Soon, the real V.I.P.'s, the aircrew and other veterans, trooped into the room; official photographs were taken, and the signing got underway. It might seem a simple task, signing one's own name, but I can assure you, having to do it 500 times or more gets a bit tiring, more so for the veterans. One has to remember that, at the time, these men were in their seventies or eighties and, after about an hour of signing a print, passing it along the line, then repeating the exercise, a well needed break was called.
Signing the prints. At the right I am seen talking to Ole Lippmann, next to him is Ted Sismore, and Baron Michael Donet.
I took the opportunity to go for a smoke, and found Derek flying around like a demented parrot! He explained that the hotel staff had their hands full, as there were people lining up outside, wanting to meet the veterans, and also wanting to obtain prints! At least one man, a journalist who didn't have a pass to get in, struck a deal with Derek, and walked away happy, an unsigned print under his arm, having given Derek a brand new, rather smart pocket 'Dictaphone' in exchange! I seem to recall that there were other such attempts to try to obtain prints but, of course, Derek had to put a stop to it, or we would never have finished our task. Eventually, we stopped our scribbling, and dashed off to change, as we were due at the British Ambassador's Residence for a drinks reception, before being entertained to dinner by the Danish Foreign Minister, Ambassador Jørgen Ørstrøm Møller. Without going into detail, the reception at the British Ambassador's residence was hilarious, with some sparkling conversation between Kate, myself, and the two R.A.F. representatives from 2 Group, R.A.F. Germany, both of whom were Tornado aircrew, the modern day equivalent of the multi-role Mosquito. I have to add, His Excellency was a bit of a card too! It must have been a 'good do', because we were running late and, all of us just a little tipsy, we had to rush to get to the other side of the city to the Foreign Ministry!
32 Once again, our reception at the Foreign Ministry was outstanding. Our host made a very moving and sincere speech, one of the best I have ever had the pleasure to listen to, and the dinner was excellent. The Danish idea of hospitality always seems to include a fair amount of alcohol, including the 'home grown' variety, such as 'Gammeldansk', and it was an even more unsteady crowd that departed to take the taxi fleet back to the hotel! I remember I had to wait for awhile, alone on the quay outside the Ministry building, as the taxis drove off in relays; the one destined to transport Kate, myself and some others was full, and so I volunteered to wait. Eventually, I got back to the hotel to find Kate, who had done an excellent job as hostess and 'event manager' during the signing, surrounded by an admiring crowd of former R.A.F. aircrew, in the hotel bar, with a party in full swing! By this time, Derek and his lovely wife Charlotte had departed to their house outside Copenhagen, in order to relieve the babysitter looking after their two young daughters, Sara and Michelle, who had also had a busy day, laying wreaths at the Jeanne D' Arc School. I was privileged to hear of more wartime escapades, and almost witnessed a 'bar room flare path', but fortunately, sensibilities were maintained, and the hotel was saved from the risk of a devastating fire! Apparently, this 'flare path' involves pouring two rows of alcoholic spirit onto the floor or carpet, close together like a narrow path, setting them alight, and gliding down between the burning rows, trying not to set oneself on fire, whilst balancing a mug of beer on ones head! These men were pensioners - God knows what they must have been like as young aircrew in the Officer's Mess during the war! After a very long, emotionally charged day, and an equally long night, Kate and I eventually got to bed. There was another full itinerary planned for the next day. On the morning of March 22nd, still half asleep after the previous day's activities, I was preparing for the next event, when the 'phone in our hotel room rang. On answering, the person on the other end of the line, whose name I regret I have now unfortunately forgotten, introduced himself, and explained that he was from a place called Fredericksborg Castle, and asked if it would be possible to borrow the original painting of 'Operation Carthage' for a display. This caused a slight problem for me as, technically, I no longer owned the painting. I had donated the picture to Derek, giving him custody on behalf of the committee, with full rights to use the picture in any way that was appropriate to the furtherance of the memory of aircrew lost during World War Two. I explained this to the gentleman on the 'phone, and suggested that he contact Derek, giving him his mobile 'phone number. Soon afterwards, just as Kate and I were preparing to meet the rest of the guests in the hotel lobby, the 'phone rang again. It was Derek, in a bit of a hurry, as he had to get across the bustling city to meet up with us. He quickly explained that Fredericksborg Castle, outside Copenhagen, was the Danish National Gallery, and that the man who had called me was the curator, asking if he could display the picture as the centrepiece of a planned exhibition, for a period of at least one year; did I have any objections? WHAT?!!! The work of an unknown artist, displayed in a country's National Gallery?
33 I was stunned! Of course, I had no objections, and arrangements were eventually made to have the painting loaned to the Gallery. What with the newspaper and T.V. exposure, and now this, suddenly, I was famous…. in Denmark! The main event of the day was a visit to the Royal Danish Air Force Station at Værløse, about a forty five minute drive from Copenhagen. This was to be followed by a sightseeing tour of locations related to 'Operation Carthage' and the World War Two escape routes from Denmark, the main one of which is located on the Carlsberg Quay in the harbour, where a huge engraved stone marks the spot where many downed allied airmen, and others, escaped to freedom.
The Memorial stone at the Carlsberg Quay.
The weather was not as good on this day, with low cloud and intermittent drizzle, but it was still a memorable day out. Værløse is a large airfield, the home to training, communications, maritime patrol and rescue squadrons. The airfield had been used by the Luftwaffe during the war, and one of the veteran R.A.F. aircrew, I forget which one now, told us an amusing story. Pointing out a hangar near the one we were in at the time, he explained that, on a raid in late 1944, he had swept across the airfield at low level, shooting up anything and everything, including the hangar. Apparently, he spotted a ladder, perched against the front of the open hangar, leading to the curved roof. There was a man at the top of the ladder, presumably doing some maintenance work or painting, and as the aircraft roared towards him, guns hammering, the man looked around in fright, slid rapidly down the ladder, and disappeared at high speed! The Royal Danish Air Force personnel present thought that this was highly amusing! With the now familiar Danish hospitality, we were served a very nice buffet lunch and drinks, and entertained to a video showing the raid, including rare footage taken on the ground, and the 1970's T.V. documentary, and shown around some of the aircraft and facilities. I had tried to arrange a display by the BAe owned Mosquito, both over Shell House at 11.15 a.m. on the 21st., and at Værløse. The owners had very kindly offered to provide this at cost, the necessary low-flying clearances had been arranged, and fuel would be
34 supplied by Shell, whilst handling, and accommodation for the crew were to be provided by the Royal Danish Air Force. Unfortunately, due to various complications, this couldn't go ahead, and so it had been arranged that a display would be flown during our visit to Værløse, by the Scandinavian Historic Flight's North American P51D Mustang. However, the weather, with cloud virtually 'on the deck', prevented the aircraft from leaving its base; visibility was not good, and it was even difficult to clearly see the C130 Hercules, parked on the apron, a couple of hundred metres away. This was a great shame, as it would have been nice to see the P51 on the ground, close up, especially for the veteran Mustang pilots present. These were; Wing Commander, Baron Michael Donnet, C.V.O., D.F.C., Fr Ae S, the Belgian pilot who led the Mustang escort, Wing Commander J.A. Storrar, D.S.O., D.F.C. & Bar, A.F.C., Fr Ae S, and Pilot Officer Stan Farmiloe. After a very pleasant couple of hours at the base, our party boarded the coach for the sightseeing tour, before returning to the hotel, where the second phase of the print signing was completed. With that final chore out of the way, and the prints repacked ready for distribution to, hopefully, waiting customers, there was only one thing left to do before we could all relax for a few hours before changing for dinner that evening. Each person involved in the operation, including the relatives of those aircrew lost, together with the Resistance and S.O.E. veterans, and all the V.I.P.'s and sponsors, were presented with signed and numbered copies of the prints. I felt a sense of achievement at last that I had managed to do the job, and that painting the picture had, in a small way, helped towards the 50th anniversary celebration. I was immensely pleased to receive many complimentary comments regarding the picture, especially those received from the aircrew involved. It hadn't really occurred to me that, although these men had spent about four hours signing the prints, they hadn't really had a chance, until now, to study them closely. I was particularly gratified when Ted Sismore told me how accurately the picture depicted the raid, although he didn't recall any vapour trails from his aircraft's wings! I quickly explained that I thought I had noticed some in the original F.P.U. film footage, though probably not from his aircraft, hastily adding that I had included them, under the 'rules of artistic licence', in order to add movement and action to the scene! Ted graciously accepted my explanation, giving me one of his charming smiles! I was also given another interesting snippet of information, which I wish I had known when I was painting the picture. Again, I think this came from Ted, but it might have come from Bob Kirkpatrick, the American pilot of the second F.P.U. Mosquito; after thirteen years my memory is hazy! As the Mosquito roared over the Technical Institute, which is the large building adjacent to Shell House, in the immediate foreground of my picture, two or three men, dressed in what appeared to be white laboratory coats, were seen on the roof of the clock tower of the building, apparently having a crafty smoke! I can only think that they must have had one hell of a shock! (Derek had informed me that at least one bomb overshot the target, and pierced the roof of the Technical Institute!)
35 Later that evening, the assembled guests attended another dinner, this time in the exclusive private restaurant, on the top floor of the hotel, which provided magnificent views across the city. There were more speeches and presentations, and many votes of thanks to the committee, and especially to Derek, both from the veteran aircrew and the former Danish Resistance members. I was very conscious of the fact that Derek, knowing our circumstances, had gone to a lot of trouble, and not a little personal expense, in ensuring that Kate and I could attend the whole event, and I had already decided that I needed to thank him publicly in some way. Before leaving home for the trip to Denmark, I had produced a pencil sketch of the P51C, Mustang MkIII, flown by Flt. Lt. David Arthur Drew, D.F.C., R.A.F.V.R., of 64 Sqn., R.A.F. This aircraft was hit by 'flak', and was able to crash land in a park a mile or two from the target, but the pilot was killed. I had framed the sketch, and presented it to Derek at the dinner. I have to admit, although very accustomed to speaking in public, on this occasion I was extremely nervous, with a lump in my throat! One of the guests on our table that evening was Mrs. M. Cordes who, as a young girl, had been a pupil at the Jeanne D' Arc School at the time of the attack in 1945. She had a very lucky escape, as she had gone home, I think to collect her coat which she'd forgotten, and so missed the bombing which accidentally led to the deaths of so many innocent children and adults. Mrs. Cordes proved to be a very charming lady, and I remember doing a quick sketch on a table napkin, relevant to the Jeanne D' Arc school, which I gave to her at the time. There is much more to the story behind the tragic accident at the school, but it is not my place to reveal that here, that I will leave to Derek Carter. After the wonderful dinner, those that were resident at the hotel once again repaired to the bar, where yet another party got underway, much to the amusement of some of the other hotel guests, who were genuinely thrilled to meet the people they had seen on the news over the last two days!
The following day, March 23, saw many of the guests return home, whilst those remaining were free to enjoy sightseeing, shopping and so on in the beautiful city of Copenhagen. Although I had been to Denmark a number of times, I hadn't really had much opportunity to see a lot of the capital, and I was looking forward to spending some time wandering around, especially as it was another beautiful March day. However, Derek had a surprise up his sleeve! Arrangements had been made to visit Major Svend Truelsen, O.B.E., R.D., at the retirement home where he lived. Svend, who was an S.O.E. officer based in London at the time of the raid, and closely involved with its organisation and planning, had been unable to attend the anniversary celebrations, and this day marked his 80th.Birthday! The original plan was for Derek, accompanied by Ole Lippmann and four of the aircrew members, to visit Svend, taking along a copy of one of the prints, and wish him a happy birthday. I was stunned when Derek, supported by Ole Lippmann, invited me to accompany them! I felt privileged, and regarded this gesture as a great honour.
36 So, leaving Kate to accompany the wives of Bob Kirkpatrick and Stan Farmiloe on a shopping trip to the city, we set off to visit Svend Truelsen. As it was a very private occasion, with members of Svend's family plus the seven of us, I will not go into detail. But I was immensely pleased when Svend accepted the print, and honoured and humbled when I was introduced and we shook hands.
We got back to the hotel to find that the ladies were still 'out and about' somewhere, no doubt doing what women seem to do best! With little else to do, we settled down to relax, and had a couple of drinks whilst we waited for their return. This marked the end of the official celebrations, and my head was whirling, having taken in so much, and met so many wonderful people, in a relatively short space of time. We had planned a quiet night that night, as it was the original intention to return home the next day. However, Derek had yet another surprise in store! He had arranged for Bob Kirkpatrick and his wife Virginia, to stay at a small hotel, not far from his house outside Copenhagen, in order that they could relax and enjoy dinner at Derek's house, provided by his wife, Charlotte. He had also arranged a room for Kate and me, and told us there was no excuse for not accepting the offer, as Charlotte was expecting us! As Derek was paying for the hotel out of his own money, it would have been churlish to refuse, so of course we went, after saying goodbye to those guests preparing to depart. Suffice to say we all had a wonderful time, with Kate, 'Ginny' and Charlotte chatting and playing with the children, whilst Bob, Derek and I studied maps and discussed the raid again. I also learned a lot about Bob's life and career, some of which proved useful the following year, which I will explain about later.
Bob Kirkpatrick, the American pilot who flew one of the FPU Mosquitos on the raid, discussing the approach to the target with Derek carter
37 The next day, Derek had to get back to his 'real' job, and so said his goodbyes that night, as we departed for the hotel. As Bob and 'Ginny' prepared to meet up with some of the other veterans for a planned trip to Aarhus, we bade them farewell, and got a lift to the airport with Charlotte, where we said goodbye and dashed off to catch our flight home.
So ended an incredible five days in Denmark, the memories of which will stay with me forever. Each time I look at my own copy of the print, I see the signatures at the bottom and think about the amazing feat of arms carried out by those remarkable men who flew on the mission code named 'Operation Carthage'. And I remember the nine men who gave their lives in the cause of freedom.
* * *
There is little more to tell regarding the story behind the painting. The full account of the Shell House raid, documented by Derek Carter, gives details of all of those who took part, and about those who where lost.
All that remains is for me to list those who signed the prints in Copenhagen on 21st. March, 1995.
They are:-
Air Commodore E.B. Sismore, D.S.O., D.F.C. and two Bars, A.F.C., R.D. (Lead Navigator, Mosquito.) Wing Commander Baron M. Donnet, C.V.O., D.F.C., Fr Ae S. (O/C Mustang Wing.) Wing Commander J.A. Storrar, D.S.O., D.F.C., and Bar, A.F.C., Fr Ae S. (O/C Mustang Sqn.) Flight Lieutenant W.K. Shrimpton, D.F.C. (Mosquito pilot.) Flying Officer P. Lake, D.F.C. (Navigator to above.) Flying Officer R.E. Kirkpatrick. (F.P.U. Mosquito pilot.) Pilot Officer S. Farmiloe. (Mustang pilot.) Major O. Lippmann, O.B.E., R.D. (Special Operations Executive.) Mr. L. Hansen Christiansen. (Danish Resistance.) Mr. O. Kampmann. (Danish Resistance.) Mr. B. Nordentoft. (Danish Resistance.) Mr. O. Gessø Pedersen. (Danish Resistance.)
38
L to R; Ole Lippmann, Ted Sismore, Stan Farmiloe, Peter Lake, ‘JAS’ Storrar, Baron Michael Donet, Bob Kirkpatrick (just visible behind Brt Donet), Knowle Shrimpton and Lars Hansen Christiansen.
My sincere thanks to all those involved, and especially to the aircrew and the committee, Eskofot and all the other sponsors. A special thank you is due to Derek Carter, without whose help and dedication, none of this would have been possible.
Thank you all !
POSTSCRIPT
A week after returning from the Shell House Memorial anniversary, I received a 'phone call from Derek Carter, informing me that Wing Commander 'Jas' Storrar had passed away. The funeral was to take place in the village of Christleton, near Chester, where 'Jas' had lived most of his life. As it was only about 30 miles from where I lived, I was asked if it would be possible to obtain a suitable wreath, and attend the funeral, as a representative of those who had attended the Shell House Memorial. Of course, to be asked to do this was a great honour, and I readily agreed. I arrived at the village church on a blistering hot day, April 6th, to find the surrounding area cordoned off by the Police, with huge crowds assembled along the village streets and around the churchyard, and the Press and a T.V. news crew in attendance.
39 The church was packed, and I was only able to find a place to stand at the back of the Nave. I lost count of the number of senior R.A.F. officers present, along with a multitude of dignitaries and other officials, which befitted a man with such a distinguished service career. After all, 'Jas' Storrar had fought in the Battle of Britain, Europe and the Middle East, and had served right through World War Two. At one time, he had even flown a Hurricane under a bridge over the river near his home, just for fun! After a very moving service, the wreaths were collected to be placed around the grave. The inscription on the card of the wreath I carried read:-
Wing Commander J.A. Storrar D.S.O., D.F.C. and Bar, A.F.C. Fr Ae S. FROM ALL THE AIRCREW, RELATIVES AND FRIENDS OF THE SHELL HOUSE MEMORIAL.
As the official congregation made ready to disperse, to re-group in the local pub, and later at 'Jas's' house, I made my way back to the car park, as I needed to get back home. Fortunately, my sombre mood was lifted when I spotted Stan Farmiloe and his wife, and we were able to chat for a few minutes before I had to leave. Stan, of course, had been one of the Mustang pilots under the command of 'Jas' during the Shell House raid. It took me a long time to drive out of the village, as the Police had set up diversions to cope with the huge turnout of traffic attending the funeral.
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A few months later, I received an invitation to attend the annual general meeting and reunion of the Mosquito Aircrew Association, which was to take place near Bedford, in October. Unfortunately, due to other commitments, I was unable to attend, and had to make my apologies. But I did donate a painting of a Mosquito for the raffle, a simple scene, depicting a B Mk IV against a sunset background; not one of my best efforts, but at least I tried.
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Some time later, Derek told me that a well-known aviation historian and author was going to use the picture of 'Operation Carthage' as the cover illustration for his latest book, which was something of a compliment. It was intended that I would receive a copy of the book, when published, and receive royalties for the use of the picture. I don't know what ultimately happened concerning this, as I have not heard anything since!
In the middle of the following year, 1996, I had a 'phone call from Derek, asking if I would like to attend the next Mosquito Aircrew Association event, once again at Bedford.
40 Derek would be going, in company with Bob Kirkpatrick, and also there would be a number of the Association's members that I had met in Denmark. Unfortunately, by then I had just contracted acute Rheumatoid Arthritis, and I didn't think I would be up to the journey, or the event, as the disease was, at the time, affecting me quite severely. Once again, I had to offer my apologies, but, I had an idea, and invited Derek and Bob to the cottage for dinner, arranging accommodation in the nearby 17th. Century inn. The invitation was accepted, and it was arranged that I would meet them the day after the Association's event, in order to guide them to the cottage, which is slightly off the beaten track. Their visit was planned for October, which gave me a little over three months in which to produce another painting, as a surprise present for Bob. During our conversation at Derek's house at the end of the Shell House event, Bob had told me a little about some of his earlier operations flying Mosquitoes with 21 Squadron, R.A.F. One of these 'ops' had been on the night of the 24th - 25th of December, 1944, when he took Mosquito FB VI, serial No. HR648, coded YH-Z to bomb a bridge in the Ardennes Forest in Belgium. It was a cold night, with deep snow blanketing the ground, as Bob dropped his bombs and turned away from the bridge over the river in the valley below. The bombs missed, but Bob wasn't that concerned as 'all Hell broke loose', as he put it! Unknown to Bob or his navigator, one of General von Rundsdet's Panzer Divisions was hidden in the woods bordering the valley, and opened fire on the 'Mossie' with everything they had! Bob managed to get home safely, but his aircraft had taken many hits. From Bob's description of the precise area, and after studying maps of the region, I managed to get some idea of what the target area looked like, and did a painting of the action, using a canvas measuring 20 x 24 inches, (50 x 60 cm.) so that it would fit safely inside Bob's suitcase for the journey back to Arkansas, U.S.A. The day arrived when I met up with Derek and Bob in the car park of a pub, near a convenient junction at the edge of the main town, about three or four miles from the cottage. Of course, Bob was thirsty after his journey, and insisted we have a couple of beers each! Eventually we arrived at the cottage, where Kate was waiting with a buffet already prepared, and little 3 year old Josephine was excited, wanting to know who this American 'Uncle Bob' was! Needless to say, the visit was a huge success, and Bob took great delight in playing games with Josephine. By this time, it was late evening, and Kate started to prepare dinner. With Josephine fast asleep, the four of us had a couple of drinks before dinner, and then I unveiled the surprise present. Bob was stunned, to say the least, when he saw the painting of 'his' aircraft. At first, he thought it was just 'one of my paintings', but when he realised it was meant as a gift to him, he was overjoyed! After a great dinner and a number of glasses of wine, Bob brought out the whisky, and a few disappeared! Then, Kate packed the three of us off to the pub, as it was getting late, and Derek and Bob had to book in. In the pitch black of the country lane, it was a very ragged formation that weaved its way to the ancient inn, where the landlord provided a warm welcome for my guests. The welcome must have been a long one, as it was very late when I eventually got home!
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The next morning, Kate provided breakfast for Derek and Bob, before they both had to dash off, Derek to catch a flight to Denmark, from London, and Bob a flight to America via Germany. It was great to see them both again, particularly Bob, the American in the R.A.F. (Strictly speaking, it was the R.C.A.F., but that's another story!)
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Terence Fox, June 2008.
Copyright © Terence Fox 2008. All rights reserved
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