The Glenn Miller ‘Mystery’

The Glenn Miller ‘Mystery’. By Airframes.

Ever since the disappearance of Glenn Miller, the famous band leader, on 15 th December 1944, an aura of mystery has surrounded the event. At the time of his disappearance, aboard a Noorduyn C-46A ‘Norseman’, Glenn Miller was a Major in the USAAF, and many theories have been put forward as to why he was never seen again, both at the time, and to this day. These were varied and far-ranging, and included those stating he had defected to the enemy, he was a spy sent on a ‘secret mission’, he’d been found murdered in the Place Pigalle, a red –light district of Paris, and also that he’d died of lung cancer in a British hospital, his death being concealed by the British authorities, who stated that he’d been shot down by an enemy fighter. It wouldn’t be at all surprising if another theory saw him being abducted by Aliens! However, it seems the real cause of his disappearance, and that of the pilot of the aircraft, Flight Officer J.S.R. ‘Nipper’ Morgan, and the other passenger, Lt. Col. Norman Baessell, is much more simple, if no less tragic, than the theories put forward over the years.

In the late 1980s, the respected historian and author, Roy Conyers Nesbit, himself a former RAF Coastal Command navigator during WW2, was asked, by the Air Historical Branch of the (British) Ministry of Defence, to investigate any possible involvement of the Royal Air Force in the disappearance of Glenn Miller. The following account is based upon his findings, published in 1988, as a chapter in his book “Failed to Return: Mysteries of the Air, 1939 – 1945.” ( Patrick Stephens Ltd., ISBN 1-85260-194-9 ) [NOTE:- The wording and descriptions which follow, unless otherwise indicated, either directly or by parenthesis, are mine, and therefore any errors, inaccuracies or omissions are entirely my fault, and not that of Mr. R. Conyers Nesbit.]

The life story of Alton Glenn Miller, born in Clarinda, Iowa on 1 st March, 1904, is well known, and was portrayed by the actor James Stewart, to great acclaim, in the 1950s movie ‘The Glenn Miller Story’. It is not the intention here to cover the same ground, but to present the evidence, facts and conclusions, as published in the above mentioned work, showing the details of Miller’s flight, and the probable cause of the loss of the aircraft he was a passenger in.

In late 1944, Glenn Miller’s band, which had been named the ‘American Band of the Allied Expeditionary Forces’, was based in Bedford, England, a town approximately 55 miles north of London. It was here that the band recorded their programmes for the BBC, which were broadcast on a regular basis. Miller had promised the troops, advancing in Europe, that he would give a live concert in Paris over Christmas and, following the liberation of the city on 23 rd August, he was determined to follow-up his promise. In order to satisfy the requirements of the BBC, the Band undertook a marathon recording session, covering 88 programmes for later broadcasting, in addition to 23 regular broadcasts, all within an 18 day period, so that continuity could be maintained during their trip to Paris.

Following a visit to Paris by Miller’s personal manager, Don Hayes, to make preliminary arrangements, Major Glenn Miller received orders to fly over in mid-December, and decided to go ahead of the Band, to make the final arrangements. The original date for the flight was scheduled for 13 th December, 1944, when an aircraft of US Air Transport Command would be provided, to depart from Station 112, Bovingdon, near Hemel Hempstead, Hertfordshire, some 25 miles north of London. ( This airfield was the location for a number of movies in the1950s to 1980s, including ‘The War Lover’, ‘633 Squadron’ and ‘Hanover Street’ .) However, fog prevented take-off on this, and the following day, and Miller returned to Bedford. A friend of Glenn Miller, Lt. Col. Norman Baessell, at the H.Q., US Service Command at nearby Milton Ernest, often flew to Paris, and offered to give the band-leader a lift the following day, 15 th December. The aircraft used for this flight was a Noorduyn C-46A ‘Norseman’, which was from US Air Station 547, Abbots Ripton, near Cambridge, and bore the serial number (tail number) 470285. ( The full, fiscal year number being 44-70285.) The ‘Norseman’ was a Canadian-built, single-engined, high-wing monoplane, with two seats forward of the wing, and a cabin capable of taking 8 passengers, or 2 tons of cargo. Of wood construction with fabric covering, having a wing span of 51ft 6ins, and a length of 32 ft, it was quite large for a single-engined type. It was powered by a Pratt and Whitney Wasp R- 1340-AN-1 nine-cylinder radial engine, of 600 hp, similar to that fitted to the North American Harvard (T6) Advanced Trainer, giving a maximum speed of 162 mph at 5,000 feet, and was a rugged and dependable aircraft, suitable for operations in harsh terrain. Although by this period, some ‘Norseman’s’ were finished in silver dope, this aircraft was finished in a camouflage scheme of Olive Drab on the upper surfaces and fuselage sides, with Neutral Gray under surfaces. The U.S ‘Stars and Bars’ were carried in the usual four locations on wings and fuselage, with the serial number in yellow, on the fin.( It is unlikely, by this date, that the black and white AEAF stripes were displayed on the under surfaces, and these were not mentioned by the Crew Chief in charge of the aircraft.) The pilot was, as mentioned, Flight Officer J.S.R. ‘Nipper’ Morgan, the rank being equivalent to a RAF Warrant Officer, who had trained in the RCAF in Canada in 1942, before transferring to the USAAF in May 1943, with less than 500 hours in his Pilot’s Log Book. His duties up to this date had been liaison and ferrying work and, according to a fellow pilot, he was ‘competent at visual flying, but not proficient at instrument flying or pilot- navigation’. He had no operational flying experience. The Norseman was to land at Twinwood Farm, three miles north of Bedford, a RAF night- fighter training base (51 OTU, with Beaufighters), to collect Maj. Miller and Lt. Col. Baessell, before proceeding to its ultimate destination, Bordeaux, but first landing at US Advanced Air Station A-20, at Villacoublay, approximately 10 miles south-west of Paris, where Miller and Baessell would alight. The flight was classed as a ‘Type A Mission’ – or non-operational flight. The weather on the morning of 15 th December 1944 was foggy and overcast around much of the Midlands and south-east England, including the Bedford area, with a very light wind, no more than 5 mph, from the south-east. It was very cold, with the ground temperature at Twinwood Farm around freezing point. Lt. Col. Baessell telephoned Glenn Miller to inform him of the situation at the airfield, and suggested that the weather should clear sufficiently, later in the day, to allow take off. Around mid-day, Flight Officer Morgan was given clearance for take off from Abbots Ripton, and set out for Twinwood Farm. Don Hayes had already driven Glenn Miller to Milton Ernest, to lunch with Col. Baessell, and drove the two men to the airfield to await the arrival of the ‘Norseman’. The airfield was still covered by low cloud, and it was wondered if

Morgan would be able to locate it, but the aircraft arrived and landed safely. The two men climbed aboard, and it would seem that Miller was at first reluctant to fly in such an aircraft, commenting on the lack of parachutes. Baessell is said to have replied, laughingly, with one of his favourite phrases “Do you want to live forever?”.

A Noorduyn C-46A ‘Norseman’, similar to the one in which Glenn Miller was lost on 15th December 1944 (USAF Official)

The official report states that the ‘Norseman’ took off at 13.55 hours, and then disappeared, and not a single message was received from it. These two points, the time, and the lack of any transmission from the aircraft, are fundamentally important to the rest of the story, and will be covered later. Having been delayed for two days, again by fog, the rest of the Glenn Miller band flew to Orly, near Paris, on 18 th December, where they were surprised not to be met by Glenn Miller. Don Hayes began his enquiries with a telephone call to SHAEF HQ at Versailles, who knew nothing of Miller’s whereabouts, and eventually learned, from Brigadier General Goodrich, that the ‘Norseman’ had not landed at Villacoublay, and was missing.

The USAAF did not announce the news of Glenn Miller’s disappearance until Christmas Eve, and meanwhile, the recordings made earlier at Bedford, were being broadcast, with the listeners unaware that the famous band leader was missing, presumed dead. The delay in releasing the news no doubt fuelled the ‘rumour factory’, but there was nothing sinister or unusual in such action. It was standard procedure during WW2, before contacting the next of kin, to begin enquiries as to whether a ‘missing’ aircraft had landed elsewhere, or had been abandoned in flight or force-landed, with the crew safe, as it could be two or three days before the situation was clarified. If these enquiries proved negative, then the next of kin would be informed, usually by telegram, that their relative was ‘Missing’, and expressing condolence, but also making it clear that the information should not be given to the Press. This was a normal requirement, irrespective of circumstances, the purpose of which was to defer any announcement which could be of use to the enemy, in any way. Usually, after about two weeks, the Press were given the names of any missing persons. It may be argued that Glenn Miller was important enough to warrant an announcement, but even if the US authorities (or the British authorities for that matter) had felt so inclined, they had more important matters to attend to. The day after the disappearance of the ‘Norseman’ carrying Glenn Miller and Lt. Col. Baessell, Von Rundstedt launched his attack through the Ardennes, in Belgium, with the object of cutting a wedge in the Allied lines, and re-taking the port of Antwerp, thereby severing the Allies’ supply route. The German attack, at this stage of the war, came as a surprise and, developing into what became known as ‘The Battle of the Bulge’, almost succeeded, occupying the complete attention of the Allied land and air forces. Furthermore, it is highly unlikely that the US authorities, having already prepared the Missing Aircrew Report, issued by USAAF HQ in Washington on 23 December 1944, would

3 falsify, or have any reason to falsify information, with the complicity of high-ranking officers and at least one member of the American Band of the Allied Expeditionary Forces. As Roy Conyers Nesbit writes in his book; “Without wishing to detract from Glenn Miller’s achievements, I do not think he would have been considered so important at the time as to require a plot to conceal the circumstances of his death. In the British papers, his fate did not warrant much more than a few lines, while some papers ignored it entirely. ” It should be remembered, of course, that news reporting at this time was nothing like it is today - there was no television, certainly no ‘Internet’ or other ‘instant’ communications, only the newspapers and the radio news, plus, the weekly ‘newsreels’, shown in cinemas. The methods of lodging copy or voice recordings were far removed in technology from what is the ‘norm’ today, with written copy relying on personal submission or, if overseas, in the ETO at least, perhaps even by carrier pigeon! Voice recording, for radio broadcast of news items, was made direct onto a disc on a turntable, which had to then be sent from wherever, to the BBC in London, before it could be broadcast on the ‘News’. This, by its very nature, caused, in many cases, a delay of days, at least, before news could be released. Add to this the ‘higher grade’ news concerning the progress of the war, particularly, at that time, in the northern ETO, then it is no surprise that the coverage of Glenn Miller’s disappearance took a ‘back seat’.

The story now moves on to the timings of the flight of the ‘Norseman’, the route flown (and why), and the involvement of the RAF. The recording of the times involved is of particular importance and, at first sight, can look somewhat complex! During World War Two, local time in Britain was one hour ahead of the time we use at present, and this was arranged for a number of reasons, including the best use of daylight and, for the night bombers of the RAF, the most favourable conditions in which to carry out their tasks. The Solar system is no respecter of man’s conventions, and takes no notice whatsoever of the arrangements we make, in our time system, twice a year for our convenience, during the winter and summer months - the moon, stars and planets will still be in specific places at the same time, regardless of how we humans arrange our clocks! As navigation in WW2 still relied, as it does, to an extent today, on astral ‘fixes’, official, and relatively complex air almanacs, charts and logs were compiled to assist in this, with the time based on GMT (Greenwich Mean Time). Most Navigators were issued with a special astro watch, set to GMT , and kept accurate to the second, which was used in conjunction with the aforementioned almanacs and charts. From May to September, British Double Summer Time (BDST) was in force, two hours ahead of GMT, and for the remainder of the year, British Summer Time (BST) was in use, one hour ahead of GMT. The time of take off of the ‘Norseman’, from Twinwood Farm, was reported in local time, at 13.55 hours. Although records from the airfield control tower no longer exist to prove this, at the time, as already mentioned, this was the standard method of recording in both the RAF and 8 th USAAF - it would be pointless, if not potentially dangerous, for the two organisations to use different timings! Flight Officer Morgan did not file a Flight Plan for his route to Villacoublay in France, so the exact route flown is not known. But, at the time there were certain restrictions in place which would have strongly influenced the choice of route, narrowing it down to basically a single

4 option, due to navigational circumstances affected by the defences in place to combat the ‘flying bombs’, the V1s - ‘Doodlebugs’ or ‘Buzz Bombs’ as they were called at the time - which had started falling on London and the south-east of England in June 1944. Having anticipated the arrival of these German weapons, the British had made many preparations, and set up defences along the south-east coast of England, which funnelled–in towards London. More balloon barrages were set up to the south-east of the City and, arranged between these and the coast, a much greater number of anti-aircraft guns were deployed, both British and American (Gen. Eisenhower had declared London an American as well as a British base.). Extra RAF fighter squadrons, equipped with Tempest MkVs, Mustang MkIIIs, and Spitfire MkXIVs , the only aircraft capable of catching the V1s, were deployed to chase and shoot down the missiles, the code name for which was ‘Diver’. Flights over London itself were not permitted, and the gun boxes were to be avoided at all costs. As can be imagined, at first there was some confusion between the ground gunners and the pilots, and ground fire sometimes hit fighters pursuing a flying bomb. This lead to a change of plan by Air Defence Great Britain (ADGB), formerly Fighter Command and, on 15 th June, the changes were put into motion. The AA guns in front of the balloon barrage were to be immediately re-located along a coastal strip, which extended from a point almost 5 miles east of Beachy Head to almost as far as Dover, and was known as the Diver Gun Belt. Although fighters were allowed to operate freely, it was also ordered that ‘complete freedom of action will be allowed to AA guns at all times and in all conditions, within the boundaries of the new Diver Gun Belt’. This meant that fighter pilots could catch and destroy the V1s either over the sea, or over land between the Gun Belt, and the London Gun Box in safety, and although allowed over the restricted areas if above 10,000 feet, all aircrews avoided the Gun Belt and Gun Box like the plague! As the Allies over- ran the launching sites in France and Holland, the threat from the V1 missiles lessened, but the Germans began air-launching the bombs from Heinkel He111s over the North Sea and, from 8 th September, the much more deadly V2 rockets were also being launched against London from sites in northern Germany. This lead to a further change of plan, with many of the guns in the coastal Gun Belt being moved to a new belt along the east coast, and to the Diver Gun Box, with some of the balloons also being moved to a more easterly position. Regardless, pilots preferred to avoid both the old Gun Belt area, as well as the new Belt! All pilots and aircrew were aware of the restrictions, and Flight Officer Morgan, as a liaison pilot, would have been no exception. This would have influenced his choice of route, leading him to avoid flying to the east, towards London, and also avoiding the war zone over the North Sea, and the German enclave at Dunkirk, on the north coast of France. Logic dictates that the only route he could have flown, from Twinwood Farm, would have been south, passing over the US airfield at Bovingdon, until hitting the easily recognisable landmark of the River Thames, thereby avoiding the prohibited zone of London itself. It is presumed that he would have then set course direct for Villacoublay, crossing the English coast near Newhaven, out across the English Channel, to make landfall on the French coast near Dieppe. Not only was this the most direct route, but it was the route regularly used by US transport aircraft when flying from Bovingdon to Paris, and known as the ‘SHAEF Shuttle’. Having flown this route, and remembering Morgan’s lack of experience on instrument flying, the ‘Norseman’ would have arrived well before sunset which, on that day, was 16.48 hours, BST. (15.48 hrs, GMT).

Having established the most likely, if not the only route that Morgan could have flown, does not, of course, establish the reason for the loss. Over the years, many theories, again, have

5 been put forward as to how, or why, this occurred, including the view that the aircraft might have crashed in fog, and been buried in thick woodland, ‘somewhere in England’. Whilst we know that WW2 aircraft wrecks continue to be discovered, and recovered, in Europe, particularly from the polders of Holland, and from fjords, remote mountains and marsh land, it is extremely unlikely that this is what happened to the ‘Norseman’. Apart from the fact that none of these features were present on the route, the area of England over which the aircraft could have flown is thickly populated, and, at the time, there were no navigational hazards. Even if the aircraft had crashed over Britain, the crash would have been heard, or seen, or both, and, at worst, the wreckage would have been discovered fairly quickly, and certainly by the mid 1980s! It is therefore much more probable that the aircraft went down somewhere over the English Channel. This brings us to the possibility of icing, which for a long time was thought to be the possible cause of the disappearance of the ‘Norseman’. Certainly icing was a continuing problem with piston-engined aircraft during World War Two - generally in two main forms, Airframe icing, and Engine icing, the latter being, in turn, divided into three types. Airframe icing can affect the wings, fuselage, tail or control surfaces or, in worst cases, the entire airframe. This occurred when rain fell on the aircraft and froze immediately, spreading back from the leading edge of the wings, and could vary from a light, crystalline coating, which in itself was not dangerous, to a heavy, glazed frost. The latter could increase in thickness and weight, which would seriously affect the aerodynamic characteristics of the aircraft and could, of course, lead to control surfaces being totally jammed. Glazed icing however, rarely occurred over England, being more common over northern Europe and North America. It could form when the cloud temperature was within the range of minus 1 to minus 10 degrees Centigrade, and occurred in cumulus and, far more seriously, in cumulo-nimbus clouds. These clouds are always avoided, unless entering inadvertently, with the dictum being “ Around, or over, but never through!” Cumulo-nimbus can, and have, shaken aircraft to pieces, and caused aircraft to rise thousands of feet, to be ‘spat out’ at the top, out of control, and have been the cause of many aviation losses since man first took to the skies. Although the ‘Norseman’ was not equipped with wing de-icer ‘boots’, airframe icing could not have been the cause of the loss. Records in the archives of the Meteorological Office at Bracknell, Berkshire, show that neither clouds, nor the required temperature range were present over the English Channel on 15 th December, 1944. The second form of icing, Engine icing, can be divided into three categories. The first is ‘Impact ice’, caused by icing around the air intake, and dependant on rain freezing, as with Airframe icing; but rain was not present over the English Channel. The second is ‘Throttle ice’, which formed when the relative humidity of the air was 100 per cent, and the temperature less than 3 degrees Centigrade; but again, these conditions were not present on the day. The third, and most deadly form, is ‘Carburettor icing’. This could form when the fuel mixed with air, due to the latent heat of evaporation, which blocked the carb, causing it to stop functioning, which in turn caused the engine to stop. The range of conditions required for this form of icing are far greater than for that of impact or throttle icing, being up to 10 degrees Centigrade with relative humidity of 50 to 100 per cent. As on many other days of the year, these conditions were present over the Channel on 15 th December. However, the ‘Norseman’ was fitted with a carb heater, and it is unlikely that icing would have occurred. It is, of course, possible that the carb heat malfunctioned (it can

6 happen, as I found out one day!), but this would lead to the engine stopping, and the aircraft would still have a glide capability, the duration and distance of which would, of course, be dependant on altitude and wind speed. If carb icing had occurred, and the engine of the ‘Norseman’ failed, then Flight Officer Morgan would have been able to make a glide approach to a ditching in the Channel, the outcome of which would have depended on the height of the waves, and whether the final approach was made along the crest, the recommended procedure. He would also have had time to transmit a ‘Mayday’ distress call, and possibly even enough time to make a continuous transmission, in order that the Air Sea Rescue services could obtain a ‘fix’ of his position. The ‘Norseman’ was equipped with the SCR-274-N radio transmitter / receiver, allowing voice-to-voice contact at up to 100 miles at least, and beyond that with Morse. No transmission was received from the ‘Norseman’. It is of course possible that the radio malfunctioned, or was set to the wrong frequency, a not uncommon problem in those days. But, as Roy Conyers Nesbit suggests, it is far more likely that Morgan did not have time to transmit, and that the end came suddenly, and violently. This theory will be reinforced later, when the possible involvement of the RAF is examined, and especially when eye-witness statements are taken into account.

Having thoroughly examined the events leading up to the disappearance of the ‘Norseman’, and the considerations of navigation, communication and weather conditions, Roy Conyers Nesbit now turned his attention to the matter the Air Historical Branch of the MoD particularly wanted him to examine – that is, the possibility of any RAF involvement in the affair. In his own words “ This produced some very unexpected results ....”

On 15 th December 1944, Lancasters of RAF Bomber Command were despatched on a daylight raid to the town of Siegen, about fifty miles east of the city of Cologne, Germany. This was to be a relatively large raid, for a daylight sortie, with 138 Lancasters from Numbers 15, 75(NZ), 90, 115, 149, 195, 196, 218, 514 and 622 Squadrons taking part. The bombers were to be escorted by over 100 RAF Mustang fighters, based in East Anglia, with the time over target being set for 14.00 hours, GMT. Climbing from their various airfields, all of which were relatively close to each other, the Lancasters were ordered to form up en route to Bury St. Edmunds, in Suffolk, and then proceed to Bishops Stortford, in Essex, with the fighter escort joining them at this point. However, the bomber crews were delayed for around an hour, before take off, as there was some uncertainty about the weather over the fighter bases, which were further east, with the morning fog being slower clearing in that area. Lancaster NF973, of 149 Squadron, coded OJ-K, eventually took off from Methwold, in Norfolk, at 11.37 hours, with F/O Victor Gregory at the controls for his, and the crew’s, first Operational flight. Gregory, however, was a very experienced pilot by wartime standards, having been a Flying Instructor for some time previously, before taking a twin-engine conversion course, on the Airspeed Oxford, at 18 Advanced Flying Unit, based at Snitterfield, followed by a posting to 85 OTU, with a conversion to Wellingtons, then 1653 Heavy Conversion Unit (Stirlings) and finally, to 3 Lancaster Finishing School. He had accumulated 1,350 hours in his Pilot’s Log Book by the time he reached 149 Squadron.

His crew on 15 th December were: Sgt. Deryk Thurman, Flight Engineer; P/O Fred Shaw, Navigator; Sgt. Bob O’Hanlon, Wireless Operator; F/O Ivor Pritchard, Bomb Aimer; Sgt. Eric Arnold, mid-upper gunner, and Sgt. Harry Fellows, rear gunner. The Lancasters formed up in close formation, in ‘Vs’ of three, or boxes of four, and the weather, although a little misty at surface level, presented clear skies. All went well at first, although forming up took some time before the bomber stream was able to set course. Then, each aircraft in turn received a recall signal, as the Mustangs had been unable to take off after all. There was a variation in the times of the recall, possibly due to the number of signals which needed to be sent to the individual aircraft. Some received the message whilst still over England, some whilst over the Channel, and some over France, and of course the position of an individual aircraft within the bomber stream would affect it’s whereabouts at the time the signal was received. In the case of Victor Gregory, flying ‘K-King’, his Lancaster, and the others from 149 Squadron, had just passed Amiens, in northern France, and were turning onto the next leg of the route when the recall message was received by Sgt. Bob O’Hanlon, the Wireless Op. Obtaining a course to steer from the Navigator, P/O Fred Shaw, Gregory turned the big bomber back towards England. However, the Lancasters were unable to return directly to their home bases, as they each carried a load which was far too heavy for a landing. All of the bombers despatched were carrying a 4,000 pound blast bomb, normally known as a ‘cookie’ or ‘block-buster’, plus a further 8,000 pounds of other ordnance. Most of this was made up of 4 pound incendiaries, each a 21.4 inches long magnesium ‘stick’, hexagonal in shape, packed in a honeycomb fashion into Small Bomb Containers (SBCs), each container holding 90 incendiaries, with a total weight per container of 500 pounds. Some of the leading Lancasters were also carrying, in place of the SBCs, 250 pound Target Indicators (TIs), coloured markers which burned brightly, indicating the aiming points. The 4,000 pound ‘cookie’ was a thin-walled bomb, cylindrical in shape, resembling three oil drums joined together, and had a semi-flush tail to stabilise its descent. The domed nose of the weapon, slightly inset into the cylinder, contained three pistols and exploders, arranged at different angles in order to ensure that at least one would strike the ground and detonate the weapon, and there were a further two pistols set in the rear of the cylinder. The design of the impact pistols was such that the cushion of air, built up around the nose of the bomb as it neared the ground, caused the striker pin to fire, and detonate the bomb, just above ground level, which generated an enormous lateral blast, which could, and did, literally flatten buildings - hence the name ‘block buster’. It was also impossible to drop this weapon un- fused , or ‘safe’, as the nose crushed on impact, and it was regarded as a very sensitive weapon. (Note; there are a number of recorded incidents where ‘cookies’ fell from the bomb bay during loading, causing loss of life, and enormous damage, not only obliterating the aircraft involved, but also wrecking or severely damaging those parked some distance away, and stripping the steel cladding from hangars hundreds of yards distant.) All pilots were under strict orders never to attempt to land with a ‘cookie’ on board, and that the bomb should be dropped from at least 3,500 feet, to avoid being caught in the blast.

The SBCs holding the 4 pound incendiaries remained in the bomb bay when the weapons were dropped, with the bombs themselves spilling out and jostling each other, until air pressure between them built up, causing them to spread out in all directions, creating maximum effect on landing. The bombs themselves were not aerodynamic, and soon reached

8 their terminal velocity of 286 mph, which was enough to punch through, for example, the roof and two stories of a house, before igniting. These extremely dangerous loads needed to be jettisoned before any of the Lancasters could land back in England. To cover such situations, three areas had been designated for jettisoning bombs. One was in the North Sea, off the Wash (actually nearer Heligoland Bight, off the enemy coast!), one was off the Thames Estuary, whilst the third, known as the Southern Jettison Area, was located in the English Channel. One squadron which had received the recall signal early, No. 218 Sqn, based at Chedburgh, headed for the North Sea Jettison Area, but the remainder of the bomber ‘stream’ flew to the Southern Jettison Area, in the English Channel. The centre point of this Jettison Area was 50˚ 15’ N, 00˚.15’E, placing it nearer the French side of the Channel, and it was considered dangerous to fly within a ten mile radius of this point. It was the decision of each captain of the individual aircraft on how many bombs to drop in addition to the 4,000 pound ‘cookie’, and apparently the Operational Record Books (ORBs) of the squadrons concerned (now available for viewing in the National Archives, Kew, London) vary in the amount of detail recorded, which is not unusual, given the changing circumstances, and time available, during the war. But, according to the research undertaken by Roy Conyers Nesbit, it would seem that, apart form all of the ‘cookies’ being dropped, about half of the total number of incendiaries were also jettisoned. This meant that over 100,000, 4 pound incendiaries were dropped over the Southern Jettison Area on 15 th December, 1944. It is a known fact that the huge ‘clouds’ of incendiaries dropped during raids created a very considerable hazard for bombers over the target in Europe, with evidence of aircraft returning with damage obviously sustained by these missiles, and others going down, almost certainly as a result of damage from such impacts. In ‘K- King’, F/O Ivor Pritchard selected the ‘cookie’ and all the incendiaries on the bomb selector panel, fixed to the starboard wall of the bomb aimers compartment, and looked through the bomb sight at the sea, 4,500 feet below, to check for any aircraft flying below them, or any ships which might have strayed into the prohibited area. (other Lancasters were ranged in altitude from 4,500 to 7,000 feet). Pritchard pressed the release button, dropping the bombs. “They’re going off” he said over the intercom. The Navigator, P/O Fred Shaw was at his chart table facing the port wall, in the compartment immediately to the rear of the raised pilot’s seat in the cockpit, and he was curious as to the effect of the exploding cookies. He left his position, coming forward to stand behind the Flight Engineer’s folding seat, where there is an observation blister in the starboard cockpit side window, which allows a good, clear view downwards. He was unable to see the blasts of their own bombs, which by now were behind the Lancaster, but he was able to observe the ‘shimmering grey blast waves, radiating outwards’ caused by the explosions of bombs dropped from the other Lancasters. “There’s a kite down there.” Pritchard said suddenly, looking through the large, clear view ‘bubble’ of the bomb-aimer’s compartment. Fred Shaw, standing at the starboard observation blister, continued to look as the unknown aircraft came into view, and he recognised it “immediately and positively” as a Noorduyn ‘Norseman’ - he had trained in Canada, where the ‘Norseman’ was used as a Navigation Trainer. The aircraft was in camouflage colours, flying at about 1,500 feet towards France, and almost on a direct reciprocal course to that of the Lancaster. As he watched, Shaw saw the aircraft dip its left wing and, just before it disappeared from his view below the starboard wing of the Lancaster, he saw it dive into the sea.

Sgt. Harry Fellows, in the rear gun turret, called out “There’s a kite gone in. Did you see it?” “I saw it.” Shaw replied. As Mr. Conyers Nesbit points out in his book “ The term ‘gone in’ is significant. In RAF jargon, it meant that the aircraft had dived into the sea. If the pilot had made a belly landing, Fellows would probably have said, ‘A kite has ditched in the sea’.” [This is correct, as the term is still used today in aviation circles in Britain, military and civilian, including the use of the term in parachuting, when a fatality occurs due to a total malfunction of a parachute canopy.] Roy Conyers Nesbit goes on to explain that, whilst (the pilot) Victor Gregory’s memory was hazy about this incident, over forty years after the event, he did recall an incident, and a conversation between crew members, which caused him to look down at the sea, although he was unable to remember exactly what it was. As it happens, he would not have been able to see the ‘Norseman’ from his position in the pilot’s seat and, apart from concentrating on flying the Lancaster at the time, with many more eventful operations following this first Operational trip, there were bound to be other incidents of more significance which would remain in his memory. The other crew members were not in a position to have been able to see anything of what had occurred as the Lancaster passed over the Southern Jettison Area. Fred Shaw thought that the ‘Norseman’ had “been brought down by the blast from one of the ‘cookies’”, and in this, he may well have been correct. It is the view of Roy Conyers Nesbit, however, that the ‘Norseman’ could equally have been brought down by incendiaries. The Noorduyn ‘Norseman’ was constructed with a mixture of steel struts and Canadian spruce, and was fabric covered; a single 4 pound incendiary, hitting this relatively fragile structure, would have passed straight through and, if striking the cockpit area, could very easily have killed, or seriously injured the pilot. A shower of the missiles would have had a devastating effect, punching through all parts of the aircraft, with the probable exception of the engine, destroying or seriously damaging control surfaces. Given that the pilot was still conscious, the reaction time from an altitude of 1,500 feet would be minimal, that is, if the aircraft was at all controllable, and the chances of transmitting a ‘Mayday’ signal virtually zero.

Although 15 th December 1944 was a day of intense air activity, with RAF Coastal Command despatching 56 aircraft, and 8 th USAAF sending out 1,250 bombers and fighter escorts, these operations were conducted over the North Sea, with 2 TAF also conducting operations that day, with 637 sorties, but from bases in France and Belgium. Only one distress signal was received, and that was from an aircraft over the North Sea also. No other allied aircraft were known to be missing. *

It is now when the timings need to be examined, as mentioned previously in this account. The records indicate that the ‘Norseman’ took off from Twinwood Farm at 13.55 hours, and that Lancaster ‘K-King’ landed back at Methwold at 14.20 hours, which would seem to suggest that it was physically impossible for the two aircraft to have met over the English Channel. However, the timings at Twinwood Farm were in local time, whilst those recorded by the Navigator in ‘K-King’, Fred Shaw, were recorded off his astro watch, set to GMT . The ORB for 149 Squadron was also kept in GMT, and corresponds with the Navigators’ and Pilots’ Log Books.

This means that the actual time of landing of Lancaster NF973, ‘K-King’, recorded as 14.20 hours, was in fact 15.20 hours local time (BST). Mr. Conyers Nesbit found it was now possible to plot the tracks of the two aircraft with, as he freely admits, certain assumptions as to the actual speeds and the true track of the ‘Norseman’ in particular. The calculations showed that the paths of the two aircraft would have been about 10 miles apart, close to the Southern Jettison Area, but, if the ‘Norseman’ had been slightly off track, or made its turn further south than the Thames, both of these, the track and the southward turn already having been assumptions in the first place, then it could very easily have strayed into the prohibited zone at precisely the same time as the Lancasters were jettisoning their loads.

The map included in the chapter on Glenn Miller in Roy Conyers Nesbit’s book.

The eye-witness accounts of Ivor Pritchard, Fred Shaw and Harry Fellows leave no doubt that a high-wing monoplane, in US camouflage colours, was seen to dive into the English Channel, in the area of the Southern Jettison Area. Fred Shaw, who was very familiar with the Noorduyn ‘Norseman’, was absolutely positive that it was this type of aircraft, and, upon hearing the news of Glenn Miller’s loss, on Christmas Eve, put two and two together. With the evidence researched and collected by Roy Conyers Nesbit, a further snippet came to light. Apparently, crews from 15 and 622 Squadrons, who had landed at Mildenhall, were also talking about the aircraft which had been downed by bombs over the Channel.

Since the 1970s, various other rumours have arisen concerning the discovery of the wreck of the ‘Norseman’ carrying Glenn Miller, even to the extent that the aircraft had been salvaged, and his remains recovered. One somewhat fantastic rumour even suggested that some hitherto un-published scores, written and composed by Glenn Miller, had been discovered in the wreck! The latter claim is, of course, preposterous, as it would be impossible for paper to have survived, submerged in water. As for the discovery of the wreckage, it is highly unlikely that anything remains of the ‘Norseman’, with the exception of the engine and other larger metal pieces, and even these will be buried in the shifting sand and gravel bed of the English Channel. The area where the ‘Norseman’ was seen to crash is in the southern section of the Channel One Way Traffic system, one of the busiest shipping lanes in the world, with over 100 vessels passing through each lane, every day. Diving in this area requires special permission, and would be extremely dangerous, and expensive.

It is very probable that some of these rumours have arisen as a result of ill-informed research, where the person, or persons, concerned, does not fully understand the format of some of the records being researched. For example, the Individual Aircraft Record Card for ‘Norseman’ 44-70285, held in the archives of the USAF, includes the typed words, at the end of the card entries, ‘ADJ LOSS SALVAGE 5-1-47’. To those unfamiliar with the annotations on such cards, this can be very deceiving, and can lead to the assumption that the aircraft had been salvaged - that is, recovered. This is not the case. The term ‘Salvage’ was a ‘catch-all’ phrase, and indicated that the aircraft was no longer on the inventory, for any number of reasons. In short, it meant that the military had ‘closed the book’ on the particular aircraft on 1 st May, 1947. Similarly, the Missing Aircrew records, and the individual Deceased Personnel files, show that the remains of Morgan, Miller and Baessell have not been recovered, and the status of all three is ‘Dead, body not recovered’.

* * *

Compiled by T.Fox, 2010, based on the account by Roy Conyers Nesbit, 1988.