Lancaster Essen Raid Transcript

(April, 1943)


Bomb Aimer: OK, bombs gone.

Pilot: OK... (mumbled) bomb aimer.

Navigator: Was that bombs gone?

Pilot and Bomb Aimer together: Yes.

Navigator: OK...

Flight Engineer: Bomb doors closed.

Navigator: ...well, I can read my watch in the searchlights! That's...ahh...twenty one, fifty four.

Gunner?: Flak coming awful close!

Unknown: ??

Flight Engineer: Heading 100.

Navigator: Twenty one, fifty four and get out of this lot as best we can.

Pilot: (labored) OK.

Pilot: Speed's the answer now.

Navigator: The idea is to steer about 020.

Pilot: Put 020 on ??

Flight Engineer: 020, OK.

Navigator: Ahh! Flak directly beneath us...

Unknown: Right.

Navigator: ...and searchlights underneath us too.

Pilot: Come on, T-for-Tommy. Get cracking!

Navigator: Ahh, watch your height!

Pilot: I'm watching everything!

Navigator: OK.

Flight Engineer: How many searchlights would you call them?

Unknown: Too many, I reckon.

Flight Engineer: A couple of thousand.

Pilot: Yeah, they're searching for us. You bastards! ...oh Hell...

Pilot: It certainly illuminates things, doesn't it?

Flight Engineer: It sure does.

Pilot: I could do with a pint.

Unknown: Keep your eyes peeled.

Unknown: Yeah!

Unknown: They're firing at us now!

Unknown: Are they?

Unknown: Yeah.


Gunner2: Flak coming close at the back!

Pilot: OK

Flight Engineer: Flak's close... (or flaps closed)

Unknown: Well, it's coming close, I can feel it.

Pilot: Yes, I can see it!

(muffled rumbles of flak bursts)

Flight Engineer: Round to port a bit this heading, Skipper.

Pilot: OK.

Navigator: If we press on a bit this way, we might get out.

Flight Engineer: Yep.

Navigator: My God!

Flight Engineer: You could light your fag on any of those.

Bomb Aimer: Steady up a bit.

(Sound of shrapnel hitting aircraft)

Bomb Aimer: Ohh!

Pilot: That was a bit close.

Pilot: Yeah...

Navigator: I think we've been hit, personally...

Pilot: We have...

Navigator: Yeah.

Flight Engineer: Lose a bit of height, Skipper.

Pilot: Yeah.

Bomb Aimer: That was close.

Pilot: Yes.

Navigator: Searchlights looking for us now.

Pilot: OK...I'm pressing on more or less on course.

Navigator: Righty Ho.

Navigator: It's gone out now.

Navigator: We...we better press on north until we're clear of this issue!

Pilot: Yeah, that's what I'm doing.

Bomb Aimer: Ah...hello, Skipper.

Pilot: Hello.

Bomb Aimer: We've been holed in the front here...

Pilot: OK.

Bomb Aimer: ...the...ahh...oil's leaking out of the front turret, still it's nothing to worry about.

Pilot: OK.

Flight Engineer: OK, Warren. Ah...Duncy, could you glance over the temperatures? On the engines?

Navigator: Could I what...?

Flight Engineer: ...glance over the temperatures.

Pilot: Look then, Duncy...umm...I've been weaving on your course. I shall be heading a the east.

Navigator: OK, I'll give you a course to steer if you reckon you'll go through it.


Navigator: OK, right.

Pilot: Only there's a few searchlights ahead, about a hundred.

Navigator: Yeah.

Navigator: By God, I've never seen anything like this before!

Pilot: Neither have I.

Flight Engineer: Four-thousand pounder just gone off.

Pilot: Oh, Good show.

Navigator: Ahhh, that's not one at all!

Unknown: Yes, it's not a bad prang.