be in the dark! And I didn't know if the bloody aeroplane was going to fall on some town or other, so I decided that I would not jump until I was out of petrol. In a Mosquito, you could go quite a long way, you see - you could be over the south coast, or you could even be up in the Pennines, or somewhere else, quite quickly. And the situation was getting worse and worse. I could have been over the North Sea, and I hadn't got the right safety equipment for surviving in the sea. Anyway, by the Grace of God [via his excellent Guardian Angel again!] my mental course was spot on, and after what seemed like two years sitting there in the pitch dark, keeping this thing upright, I saw the red beacon [of Warboys]! And I went in and landed! You wouldn't believe that, would you? It was simple. Nothing happened - no enemy fighters - nothing at all! So Ford was probably genuine, though I didn't know at the time whether they were or not. I think it was the generator that had gone, and the battery just went flat [In Pilot's Notes for the Mosquito T.III - a generator on the starboard engine and a battery supply electrical power at 24 volts. There is no Emergency Procedure listed for complete electrical failure!]. I'd switched everything off to conserve what was left of the battery, and just had enough to faintly hear Ford, which at least gave me a position! I sometimes think about that, and I think, God, how bloody frightening that was!' On 30th July 1944, Tom was posted to No 105 Squadron, Bourn, which is seven miles west of Cambridge. It was 17 months later than he had wished. Way back in February 1943, Ralph Millns, Tom's trusty navigator/observer on Blenheims, was posted to No 105 Squadron. The new CO, Wg Cdr G.P. Longfield, wanted Ralph as his navigator, even though he had been appointed Station Navigation Officer. So Ralph had visited Tom to discuss the situation. Tom recalls: 'I volunteered to go back onto ops, on the squadron, so that Ralph and I could be together. We'd been together so long - we'll stay together, so I'll give up this job. I spoke to the Station Commander, and asked him to get on to Group, and try and get me posted to 105 Squadron, to crew up with Ralph. But they wouldn't have it.' Fate had been unkind to Ralph, who was killed shortly afterwards (see his biography). For an overall view of what life was like on 105 Squadron from the time that Tom arrived, until VE Day in May 1945, I can do no better than direct readers to a book written by Stuart R. Scott - a good friend and fellow researcher - MOSQUITO THUNDER: No.105 Squadron RAF At War 1942-5 (Sutton Publishing Limited, Stroud 1999). Chapter 18 onwards is the relevant section of the book. Stuart had preceded the above title with another well-researched book, BATTLE-AXE BLENHEIMS: No 105 Squadron At War 1940-1 (Alan Sutton Publishing Limited, Stroud 1996). Chapter 10 'The Big Effort' covers the Rotterdam Raid of 16th July 1941. I was pleased to see that Stuart kindly incorporated my contribution with few additions or alterations! Enough of the general, and back to the particular - Tom's biography, and his riveting accounts of those dangerous times. On checking Tom's Record of Service, I was surprised that, as a wing commander, he had not actually taken over the squadron. It was his bad luck that, due to the importance of the Pathfinder Force, both the previous CO (H.J. Cundall DFC, AFC, 25th June 1943 - 25th September 1944) and the subsequent CO (K.J. Somerville DSO, DFC, AFC, 25th September 1944 - 1st June 1945) were both group captains! 427 The selection of pilots for the Pathfinder Force was about as tough as it gets. The task required flying accuracy to the very highest degree, in order to operate Oboe effectively. Tom recalls the rigorous criteria: 'Before you could get on to a Pathfinder squadron, you had to have done two tours of ops, one being a night tour, and you had to be a Beam Approach Instructor, so that you were pretty good on instrument flying.' He added: 'Now, how much do you know about Oboe?' I replied: 'Very, very little, I'm afraid, only that it was the best bombing device of the war. That's all I know!' I did not add that it was also my favourite musical instrument! Perhaps I should have, as it was so called because the radio tone heard by the aircrew was similar to the note of the musical instrument! I put this question to three of the World War Two Lancaster aircrew, who were at a book-signing ceremony on 29th August 2014 at the Shoreham Air Show. Their replies indicated that not only did they know a lot about Oboe, but had remembered it very well! It was a pleasure and honour to meet these gentleman. However, I suspect that the vast majority of people reading this biography will know little about Oboe, unless you happen to be a current or ex-RAF navigator. For some reason, this sort of thing really gets them going, while we pilots would rather do the modern equivalent of catching up with Jane's latest escapades in the Daily Mirror - if you are too young to remember this fabulous creature, please use Google! I was fascinated by Tom's detailed recollections of how he operated Oboe, but regretted that, at the time, my knowledge was so abysmal. I was in no position to ask him to clarify anything! So I think a brief description of Oboe might be called for at this stage. If you can lay your hands on Professor R.V. Jones' definitive book, MOST SECRET WAR: British Scientific Intelligence 1939-1945 (Hamish Hamilton, London, 1978) pp 274-277, you will not only be treated to a precise rendering of Oboe, but a most helpful diagram in Fig. 15, which states: 'The "Oboe" dispositions for bombing Florennes and Essen. The bombing aircraft flies at a constant range from the ground station at Trimingham [North Norfolk], taking it on an arc. When it is at the correct range from the ground station at Walmer [East Kent], the latter sends the order for bomb release. The curved tracks are slightly (but exaggerated in the diagram) to the west of the targets because the bombs continue on a tangent after release.' Professor Jones writes that Oboe 'was the most precise bombing system of the whole war.' So precise, in fact, that they had to look into the question of the geodetic alignment of the Ordnance Survey with the Continent, which was based on triangulation across the Straits of Dover. It was decided to check this by sending a small force of Mosquitoes to bomb the German nightfighter headquarters in Florennes, Belgium, in December 1942. Special permission was obtained to disclose this target in advance, so as to notify the Belgian network, who would place observers in position. The Belgians sent back precise details of the bombing, risking their lives by actually pacing out the distances in yards! Best of all, one of the bombs actually hit the nightfighter headquarters! This, and other attacks, convinced the doubters of the efficacy of Oboe. This bombing system was developed by A.H. Reeves and F.E. Jones at the Telecommunications Research Establishment, Malvern. In discussion with Professor 428 Jones, they realised that their directional measurements were not very good, but range measurements could be made very accurately. To achieve this, pulses were sent out from a ground station (Trimingham in Fig. 15), which the aircraft would pick up, amplify, and then return to the ground station (sometimes called CAT). The time that it took the pulses to return was then converted into distance. In effect, the aircraft would fly along a circle centred on the ground station. The circle was made to go to one side of the target, as the bombs departed tangentially when released from the aircraft. Calculations depended on knowing the height and speed of the aircraft, which, of course, the pilot had to maintain dead accurately. Maintaining this gentle curve of the circle was achieved by automatic signals sent out by the ground station - rather like on a Standard Beam Approach (dots on one side, dashes on the other, and a steady note if established), hence the aforementioned selection process for Pathfinder pilots. Note that there is no beam that the Germans could detect, as in their own Knickebein system, which we, of course, bent! A second ground station (sometimes called MOUSE) was needed (Walmer in Fig. 15), which also determined the range of the aircraft from it, and this was used to instruct the aircraft when to drop its bombs to hit the target, taking the pressure off the crew, especially if under fire at the time. The crew would receive warning signals that the release point was imminent, then a long dash to indicate the release point. The button was pressed to release the bombs or markers immediately the dash signal terminated. There were only two minor disadvantages with this bombing system. Firstly, the traffic-handling capacity was very limited, but as only a few Oboe Mosquitoes were needed to drop visual markers for the main bomber force, this did not prove a problem.