ARTICLE: Mission Cologne

This is another one where the blame lies with an antiques market in Salisbury. Sniffing around, I found a little booklet, printed in Woking, about a local airman in 1942. Entitled Germany Quivers it comprises the writings of Flight Sergeant Derek Rowland Lord. I’ll be coming back to this, as there are sections from all over Europe, one of which details how he fell asleep over Dunkirk, but today, I’m going ton concentrate on his account of his first operational flight for Bomber Command…

Of his aircraft, he says this: the captain of which, a Sergeant, had acquired for himself the name, "Bring 'em back alive.” As with me, it was the first trip for the navigator. The rear gunner, well, he was an old hand at the game. He and my Captain were in the "Home Straight.” A New Zealander at the radio completed our crew, out of which four of us in months to follow succeeded in proving too good for the Germans.

Tuesday morning we were told to hold ourselves in readiness for briefing. Having rested in the afternoon of this memorable day, we reported for briefing at 5.30. With all crews present we were advised that the issue was Cologne, reputed to be the most vindictive target in Hunland. Cologne was once again to feel the growing striking power of the Royal Air Force.

Not having been on a sortie before and having lost two pals, Sergeant Don Whiting and Sergeant Brian Wildgoose, who had the misfortune not to return from his first experience, my thoughts, assisted by imagination, gave me the impression that this game, in which I now found myself, had no future. What were the hidden dangers that lurked over the other side of the water? What was in store for me? How would I cope with this new, strange thing? Would I be lucky enough to see my operational trips successfully completed?

It seemed an enormous and almost incredible task. Weighing it all up, the most discomforting thought that came constantly to me was my parents, brothers and sister, who would worry and wonder. The responsibility rested with me not to give cause for a telegram to arrive home instead of me; and so I commenced to face this incalculable, this seemingly impossible task! The odds were heavy.

After a good meal there were dim shadows of men, heavily laden with flying clothes, climbing into the black disturbers of the night. The peaceful country which we love so much, slumbering in the dusk of a perfect day, was awakened by the roar of mighty engines. British folk were aware that the lads in blue were about to take disaster and devastation to the swine of an enemy.

At zero hour the first massive aircraft lumbered with engines straining into the night air. The belly of the machine was well stocked with high explosives and incendiaries. We were fifth off, the whole crew working hard at their task. I assisted the Captain as he sweated at the controls to get this egg freighter airborne. One complete circuit of the 'drome with its twinkling lights and grey and black intermittent shadows and we set course down England!