Operation: Düsseldorf

Date: 02/03rd November 1944 (Thursday/Friday)

Unit: No. 462 Squadron. 4 Group

Type: Halifax III

Serial: LL610

Code: Z5-U

Base: RAF Driffield, Yorkshire

Location: South West Düsseldorf

Pilot: Fl/Sgt. Robert Venters Jubb DFC. Aus/426609 RAAF Evaded

Fl/Eng: Sgt. Hugh Brydon 1035149 RAFVR PoW No: 1130 Camp: Stalag Luft Bankau near Kreuzburg, Upper Silesia

Nav: Sgt. Hugh James Burden 1581371 RAFVR PoW No: 1131 Camp: Stalag Luft Bankau near Kreuzburg, Upper Silesia

Air/Bmr: Sgt. Robert Douglas Eadie 1527066 RAFVR PoW Camp: Stalag Luft Bankau near Kreuzburg, Upper Silesia

W/Op/Air/Gnr: Fl/Sgt. Peter Brabazon Brett Aus/434238 RAAF PoW No: 1129 Camp: Stalag Luft Bankau near Kreuzburg, Upper Silesia

Air/Gnr: Fl/Sgt. Bruce Theodore Sharpe Aus/423486 RAAF PoW No: 1161 Camp: Stalag Luft Bankau near Kreuzburg, Upper Silesia

Air/Gnr: Sgt. Harald Peter Christensen 1819753 RAFVR PoW Camp: Stalag Luft Bankau near Kreuzburg, Upper Silesia

REASON FOR LOSS:

Taking off at 16:27 hrs, one of fifteen from the squadron to bomb Düsseldorf. A total force of 992 aircraft taking part.

The allies dropped 4,484 tons of bombs from a cloudless sky on this administrative centre of the steel industry which had practically recovered from the 1943 raids. Fierce opposition from Luftwaffe fighters were experienced. Two crews from 462 squadron failed to return, the other:

Halifax III MZ401 Z5-D Flown by Fl/Sgt. Robert Richard Mitchell Aus/418452 RAAF - killed with one other, four taken PoW, one evaded capture.

LL610 was attacked and shot down by Major Paul Semrau of Stab II./NJG2 at 4,800 metres south west oh the target area at 19:21 hrs. This was the 36th claim for the Luftwaffe nightfighter ace. Further details can be read on our Kracker Archive Database here.

Extract from 'Against the Odds' by Murray Adams:

I had been trained for fighters, and it was with some apprehension that I greeted a posting to be retrained for bombers. But it turned out that I joined 76 Squadron, RAF at lonely Holme on Spalding Moor, and it had a high morale due to the example of Wing Commander ‘Hank’ Iveson. His habit of leading the Squadron on the high risk, tough targets endeared him to all.

Most of the ten trips done from Holme were full of activity, especially the long ones where we had to battle our way out of trouble from night fighters. It transpired that the visual ‘monica’ with which we were equipped to warn of an impending attack also acted as a homing signal for enemy night fighters.

In August 1944 we were posted to Driffield, where 466 RAAF Squadron operated, to reform 462 RAAF Squadron, with Halifaxes, and the difference in leadership soon became obvious.

After completing a normal tour of 30 trips we were asked to make up for crew shortages by volunteering for five more, and it was on our 32nd operation, to Dusseldorf, on 2 November 1944, that we were attacked as we left the target.

At the time there were differing opinions as to what attacked us but the evidence suggests that it was the classic ‘schrage musik’ method, i.e. a Messerschmitt 110 with two upward firing cannon, stalking 100 feet below. Anyway, we had the two starboard engines out of action and on fire, fuel lines ruptured, elevator and aileron controls gone. We left the stricken aircraft at 15,000 feet.

Descending by parachute, it first seemed that I would land in the Rhine, shining brightly in the moon and firelight. However, I glided in under a power pylon, buried the ‘chute, cut off insignia and got going. In the backyard of a house I borrowed a brown jacket from a clothesline and, over the battledress it disposed of the uniform look. So with my black ‘runaway’ boots, always worn instead of flying boots, I was ready for the cross- country.

Above L-R Rear: Fl/Sgt. Peter Brett, Sgt. Harald Christensen, Fl/Sgt. Bruce Sharpe and Sgt. Hugh Brydon. Front: Sgt. Robert Eadie, Fl/Sgt. Robert Jubb and Sgt. Hugh Burden. (see credits)

Day Two:

The first night was full of apprehensions when crossing rail lines, which always seemed to have two men patrolling, and concrete roads carrying heavy traffic. The procedure adopted was to wait, observe and then duck across to resume my south-westerly course.

Night running was good for covering distance but bad for identifying what loomed up, and had the advantage of concealment if challenged, which happened at one road crossing. Daytime movement seemed risky so I lay up in a wood and watched a farmer coming and going. That’s when I had a small visitor, a squirrel. I remember thinking: ‘A German squirrel, but rather lovely and much smaller than I had imagined.’

Video interviews with Robert Venters Jubb DFC here.

Day Three:

As darkness came I took off, after eating some rations from the escape kit and checking my cloth map. It started to rain but the warmth from jogging kept the cold out until I came to a river. Not wishing to divert too far off course looking for a bridge I took the plunge and swam across what I identified as the Roer. Then after emptying boots and wringing out socks, it was more comfortable to get going again. Then coming to a road without traffic, and heading south-west, I followed it until barking dogs indicated the proximity of a village. I skirted this and some time later my way was barred by a barbed wire fence and following it a short distance to the right saw a notice: ‘Achtung Minen’. If it really was a minefield it presented quite a problem: how far did it extend to left and right across my chosen course? I followed the fence to the left for about two hundred yards, by my compass, a 90-degree deviation, and this frustrated me to such an extent that I decided to risk crossing the minefield. Like a homing pigeon, the right direction and the urge to keep moving were the motivating forces. Another word is ‘fear’. Anyway, I crawled under the fence and resumed course, walking carefully and I hoped lightly. Nothing blew up, so maybe it was no longer a minefield.

Day Four:

By dawn I found myself on a farm with turnips growing, and although the water from a small stream was good my stomach did not relish raw turnip, but in any case I seemed to be too tense to be hungry. I lay up in a small copse but at about 14:00 hours the urge to get going surged up and caused me to proceed. On approaching a small village I decided not to deviate but to walk straight through it. Two soldiers and I arrived at a corner together and one said: ‘Wohin gehen sie?’, so I went into my head shaking idiot act, which my Air Force colleagues said came naturally, and mumbled: ‘Ich habe es eilag’. This seemed to distract or puzzle them enough for me to keep shuffling on; helped by the sight of a US twin boom Lightning zooming across and causing everyone to stop and stare.

Above RAF Recall, Yorkshire 1944 L-R: Sgt. Robert Eadie, Sgt. Hugh Burden, Sgt. Harald Christensen, Fl/Sgt. Robert Jubb, Fl/Sgt. Peter Brett, Fl/Sgt. Bruce Sharpe and Sgt. Hugh Brydon (see credits)

Day Five:

A bit discouraged by this close contact; I lay up in a hedge until darkness gave me confidence to move on again. Then I came to a road absolutely teeming with traffic travelling north-east, and being unable to cross I settled down to wait and heard ominous sounds of activity coming from the west. I finally moved off about noon, drawn by the noise of an artillery battle in the distance. I came to a village, which I believe was Euchen, and it seemed to have been evacuated as I saw only troops there.

Right: Fl/Sgt. Robert Jubb DFC at Metropole Hotel Brighton 1943 (see credits)

While fossicking in a deserted house I was confronted by a soldier with Mongolian features, and his small stature probably gave me the courage to push him aside and snarl: ‘zuruck’, and stand back he did, and I hoped he would think that I was the owner rummaging in his own house. Later, I learned that there were many Mongolians, formerly in Russian service, who had either been invited to join or were impressed into the German Army. Outside, surveying the line-up of 88 millimetre guns, the crazy thought occurred to me that their barrels were pointing the way to go, so I set off down the road until I came to an intersection where there was a burnt out tank and bodies and discarded rifles lying around. Another couple of hundred yards and the angry buzz of machine gun fire put me, crawling, in the ditch beside the road and every time my backside stuck up the area was stitched by gunfire. Proceeding desperately and steadily I came face to face with what is termed, ‘not a pretty sight’. It was a German soldier, blue in the face and dead at the foot of a pole with wires dangling. We really got together when I had to crawl over the top of him, keeping my backside down. My urgency was the fear of pursuit, until I reached the point where shells from the rear were bursting ahead and showering me with dirt. Ahead came the periodic whoosh and bang of return artillery fire. I had found the proverbial position between a rock and a hard place.

Above: Fl/Sgt. Robert Venters Jubb DFC on making a 'decision'. (see credits)

My first inclination was to wait until dark, but reflected that if I were a front line soldier I would shoot anyone coming from the direction of the enemy, and ask questions afterwards. During the next hour, or so, I noticed that there was a lull of about a minute in the incoming artillery fire every quarter of an hour, so at the next lull I opened up my brown jacket to show the blue of the battle dress underneath, and with hands raised, belted along the road. It was undignified, but after about 200 yards a voice from behind called: ‘Halt!’ I was looking at the business end of a carbine levelled at me by a GI in a foxhole. I said: ‘Take me to an officer I am an Australian airman.’ ‘Strellin?’ he replied baffled, and ordered: ‘March!’

I was in the hands of General Simpson’s 9th Army, facing Manteuffel’s 5th German Army, just five days after being shot down. Following interrogation, we watched the continuing attacks on German armour by dive-bombing and rocket firing P 38’s (Lightnings in our language). This group said their advance was being delayed by the slow progress of the ‘Limeys’ in the north, but they planned to be the first to cross the Rhine; a feat which they did achieve. Next day they provided a Jeep and a driver to deliver me to the British base at Namur. From there I went to Intelligence in Brussels, back loading in a Dakota from Antwerp to Northolt on 20 November, and then to St John’s Wood for interrogation.

Postscript:

My crew had all got out and were rounded up, some after evading for a few days, and all survived the PoW camps. However, the big mid upper gunner did collapse in the snow during the forced march in the face of the Russian advance from the east, and was half carried and dragged by the wireless operator to prevent him being shot. Although both lived in Sydney after the war the gunner never saw fit or bothered to contact his saviour. It makes you wonder about human nature.

Great video on pilot maps by Fl/Sgt. Robert Venters Jubb DFC (see credits)

Burial details:

None - all survived the war.

F/O. Robert Venters Jubb DFC. Born on the 27th August 1922 in Brisbane, Queensland, Australia. Discharged from the RAAF on the 05th April 1947. Died 21st January 2022, age 99. Buried in Warwick General Cemetery, Queensland, Australia. DFC London Gazette 02nd February 1942 for skill and fortitude in operations against the enemy.

Fl/Sgt. Peter Brabazon Brett. Born on the 11th January 1924 in Cloncurry, Queensland, Australia. Discharged from the RAAF on the 27th October 1945. Died 21st January 1993. The New South Wales Garden of Remembrance, New South Wales, Australia.

F/O. Bruce Theodore Sharpe. Born on the 14th May 1924 in Lane Cove, New South Wales, Australia. Discharged from the RAAF on the 31st October 1945.

Researched and dedicated to the relatives of this crew with thanks to Aviation History Museum of Australia, International Bomber Command Centre of England, National Archives England, National Archives Australia, Department of Veterans affairs, 'Against the Odds' by Murray Adams, Nachjagd Combat Archive 1944 part 5, Theo Boiten.

Other sources as quoted below:

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