Shot Down for the King

Integrated Radar Coverage

The mobile unit did not stand on its own, however, as initial radar contacts were provided by the Chain High and Chain Low stations that looked across the English Channel for incoming German planes. Contact information included the range, bearing, speed and height of the contact. The GCIs accepted the transferred plot and took over as the enemy aircraft crossed the coastline — from that point onward, the job was in the hands of the RAF’s night fighter units.

A high degree of skill was required to co-ordinate height, course and speed data, particularly at night. Squadron Leader Brown had with the help of Edward Bowen, a major contributor to the development of radar who personally developed the necessary control techniques. Ultimately, he would become probably the most successful GCI controller of the war.

Even with the extraordinary capabilities of the ground-based mobile GCI system, the real action typically culminated on board the night fighter. Once brought within close range, the AI operator in flight would look through a leather visor at two luminous green cathode tubes, on which he could read the horizontal and vertical positions of his target. Once in range, the echo that bounced off the enemy aircraft would appear as a blip on both screens. The operator would call instructions to the pilot, bringing the plane into visual range – from there, it was the job of the pilot to shoot down the enemy.

With Sergeant Rawnsley calling instructions to Sqn/Ldr Cunningham, the two men navigated in behind the enemy aircraft — just what type of plane it was would be a mystery until they got within visual range.

Last Flight

The town of Rennes in northern France served as the home of 7 Staffel Kampfgeschwader 27 (Boelcke), which was part of Luftlotte 3 within Fliegerkorps IV. That night, one of the Staffel’s bombers, a Heinkel He 111P-2 (Werke Nr 1639 IG+DR), had taken off into the cold evening air. On board were a crew of four — Pilot Oberfeldwebel Heinz Laschinski, Observer Feldwebel Heinz Shier, Wireless Operator Oberfeldwebel Otto Willrich and Flight Engineer Feldwebel Fritz Klemm. As with many in the Staffel, the men were an experienced night bomber crew.

Flying underneath, he looked up at the wing plan form and confirmed his target was a Heinkel He 111 bomber after all. There was no doubt. Never taking his eyes off of the bottom of the enemy plane, he pulled back on the throttles slightly. Slowly, the Beaufighter fell back into trail as he carefully positioned himself for the attack. Night fighter tactics differed sharply from those of the daytime pilots in their Spitfires and Hurricanes. They could get into a swirling dogfight, shooting at whatever targets passed before their guns, trying to make sense of the melee, pick a target and attack. In the night, however, it was very different. Stealth, patience and ambush were the best moves. Further, you had to kill from the first shot — usually from so close that you couldn’t miss. If you engaged from farther away, the enemy might be only lightly damaged and thus, he might turn away and flee into the cloaking darkness of midnight. Even with luck, it would be difficult or even impossible to relocate him.

The Attack Begins

Sqn/Ldr Cunningham checked with Sergeant Rawnsley a final time to make sure he was prepared. He reconfirmed too that there were no other aircraft around. Except for the German He 111, they were alone. As described by Sergaent Rawnsley in his later book, “Night Fighter”, the encounter unfolded deliberately and slowly, despite the excitement of finding and engaging a German plane:

“We were right below our target, a great fat prima-donna of a Heinkel. John started pulling up behind it and the long, long wait was even more agonising than usual. But the enemy crew showed no reaction. We were right behind and there came the final moment of tension with the sharp little lurches as John brought the sight to bear. Still there was no response from the Heinkel. Then came the blessed relief of the crash of the guns and the sudden surge upwards to get out of the way of the hurtling wreckage. A wicked orange glow appeared inside the fuselage of the Heinkel and the wheels fell down in the most forlorn way. As we flew alongside, watching, the glow burst through the skin and the flames took over. The whole aircraft trembles and broke into a violent pitching and with a plume of flames streaming out behind it, the Heinkel went down in a headlong plunge to earth.”

From the German Side

From the first sounds of the bullets impacting into his Heinkel, Pilot Oberfeldwebel Heinz Laschinski was in shock. Moments earlier, he had been transferring fuel from the outer wing tanks to the inner ones, unsuspecting that the British airplane was already upon them. When he heard a rattling of gunfire, he saw his observer, Heinz Schier, collapse next to him, obviously dead. Seconds later, fuel spilled onto the cockpit floor. In an instant, it ignited and the cockpit was engulfed in flames. He shouted to the two other crew to bale out as he reached through the flames to grab the handles of his own escape hatch. There was no saving the plane. It was just a matter of survival — to get out before the plane exploded or he was burned alive.

He grasped the handles of the escape hatch and felt a stabbing pain. Blinking through the fire, he saw his hands melting onto the handles. He withdrew them and for an instant looked at his twisted, ruined fingers, as held them up before his eyes. There was only one way out, however. He reached up again and managed to unclip and slide the escape hatch back, burning his hands yet more. He stood up through the inferno to climb into the cold rushing wind from the speed of the plane as it angled through the dark sky. Even then, he couldn’t free himself. His seat parachute caught on the exit hatch, trapping him half in the cockpit, half out. He couldn’t leap clear. As the flames were roaring at his feet and legs, in a panic he pulled the rip cord.

Whether he blacked out or blocked it out he would never know, but a second later he found himself drifting below the mass of his glowing plane, flaming as it careened onward toward its end. Then his parachute was snapped open and jerked him to a stop. The plane sped off into a fiery descent. Then he passed out once again.

Survivors

Oberfeldwebel Heinz Laschinski came to lying on his back in a damp field. In spite of his very painful burnt hands, he managed to release his parachute. Years later in an interview with author Kenneth Wakefield, he told of how he had walked across a field until he came to a hedge. Then he followed that to a gate. There, he decided to hide his maps and pistol in a drainage pipe. It was pointless to hide himself or try to evade — he was in England, an island nation and his wounds needed immediate care. Through the gate, he walked along a lane to a farm house. It was nearing midnight when he knocked on the door and woke the elderly residents inside. In his best English, he asked them to call the police. He could no longer feel the pain of his burns. Exhausted, he collapsed onto the grass outside to await his fate.

Shortly afterward, the Home Guard, police and some local residents arrived with a number of vehicles. Laschinski’s Heinkel had come down near Weston Zolyand and the closet hospital was at Bridgewater in Somerset. He would be taken there to receive care for his wounds. Once at the hospital, his hands were heavily bandaged. He realized too that his face was badly burned. It would be a long recovery. In later years he remembered with gratitude the excellent treatment he received — even in wartime, the English provided the finest care. He was in turn well liked at Bridgewater and at the RAF hospital at Locking in Weston Super Mare to which he was transferred a month later on June 10, 1941.