hubbabubba
Charter Member
Elements of the RAF Biggin Hill were invited to a preparatory conference at AAC Ripe on Sunday, February the 14th, 1943. It was arranged so that two jeeps would bring the RAF flight leaders to Ripe in the morning. This communication was unfortunately done by radio and was not ciphered, thinking it was of a trivial nature.
But some Luftwaffe's officials were of a different opinion; this was an opportunity to wipe out the command structure of one of the best RAF outfit. Individual fighters were dispatched in the hope of catching the enemy "in the open". At 730 hours, Greenwich time, the two jeeps left Biggin Hill.
For about twenty minutes, it was a pleasant morning. Officers were joking about the WAAF-WAC contingent at Ripe, known to be one of the most important concentration of women in uniform in UK. Only friendly aircraft were flying above.
Then, all of a sudden, a FW 190 came in low, out of nowhere, strafing the two vehicles convoy.
It was taught that both jeeps had gone through unscathed, but Minuteman's vehicle started spewing yellowish smoke, a sure sign that the radiator had been "pricked" a bit. The 190 was eventually shot down by elements of the RAF.
But, like piranhas, the Germans went for blood. A second attack was performed on Minuteman's jeep.
The German pilot, most certainly an experienced one, had lowered the wheels of his FW to stay on the target for as long as possible, increasing his chances of a hit. The jeep engine was totally wrecked and the officers on board had to "hit the ditch" in a very unceremoniously manner. German attention went towards my vehicle.
Bullets and shells were zooming all around, but no hits!
In a desperate attempt, the German pilot tried to make a tight turn to get a second chance before Allied aircraft could intervene, but the maneuver send him corkscrewing to the ground.
Half of the officers made it to Ops at Ripe, under the protection of the local fighters. German presence was close but would not dare getting within striking distance of Ripe short range AA batteries.
Using this time a secured land line, the officers left behind reassured us that they were okay and would wait for a new hack at the nearby pub; "Take your time lads, were having ...hem... breakfast here".
It was certainly a massacre, but for whom?
But some Luftwaffe's officials were of a different opinion; this was an opportunity to wipe out the command structure of one of the best RAF outfit. Individual fighters were dispatched in the hope of catching the enemy "in the open". At 730 hours, Greenwich time, the two jeeps left Biggin Hill.
For about twenty minutes, it was a pleasant morning. Officers were joking about the WAAF-WAC contingent at Ripe, known to be one of the most important concentration of women in uniform in UK. Only friendly aircraft were flying above.
Then, all of a sudden, a FW 190 came in low, out of nowhere, strafing the two vehicles convoy.
It was taught that both jeeps had gone through unscathed, but Minuteman's vehicle started spewing yellowish smoke, a sure sign that the radiator had been "pricked" a bit. The 190 was eventually shot down by elements of the RAF.
But, like piranhas, the Germans went for blood. A second attack was performed on Minuteman's jeep.
The German pilot, most certainly an experienced one, had lowered the wheels of his FW to stay on the target for as long as possible, increasing his chances of a hit. The jeep engine was totally wrecked and the officers on board had to "hit the ditch" in a very unceremoniously manner. German attention went towards my vehicle.
Bullets and shells were zooming all around, but no hits!
In a desperate attempt, the German pilot tried to make a tight turn to get a second chance before Allied aircraft could intervene, but the maneuver send him corkscrewing to the ground.
Half of the officers made it to Ops at Ripe, under the protection of the local fighters. German presence was close but would not dare getting within striking distance of Ripe short range AA batteries.
Using this time a secured land line, the officers left behind reassured us that they were okay and would wait for a new hack at the nearby pub; "Take your time lads, were having ...hem... breakfast here".
It was certainly a massacre, but for whom?