BAILED OVER BELGIUM
PART 1
In His 94th year, World War Two veteran William (Robbie) Robertson, a member of the Memory Project, finds November to be his busiest month of the year. “I have to pace myself”, he told me, as he is much in demand during our month of Remembrance.
Robertson had signed up with the RCAF in 1942 after being rejected in 1941 for medical reasons. He began to exercise more which included running, biking, swimming and adding some weight to his 115 pound frame. After he failed the simulated flying Link Trainer test (“I joke that I landed the trainer 75 feet underground.”) he was given a choice, “The only time ever while in the forces.” He could be a bomb aimer, a wireless operator or a navigator.”
He asked what a bomb aimer did? “I wasn’t so stupid that I didn’t know. I wanted more details. But THEY didn’t know as noone had yet returned from their first tour.”
Robertson received his commission, graduating from Course 68B – Air Bombers at Malton on Friday, March 5, 1943.
He flew with a crew comprising RAF and RAAF. His 11th mission was in Halifax bomber NP_FLV907, nicknamed “Friday the Thirteenth” which ultimately flew the most missions by any Halifax (128) during WW2. Co-incidentally, Robertson was born June 13, 1921. Add 1+9+2+1. Food for thought.
Robertson’s 12th mission was in Halifax NP_CHX334 (C-Charlie). They were air born late Friday, May 12, 1944 for Belgium and dropped their bomb load at 12:30 a.m. May 13. At 12:39 a.m., flying at 14,000 feet, heading for home, they were hit by FLAK (anti-aircraft shells that burst into many metal fragments) and then a German night fighter. With no other options the pilot ordered the crew to bail out. I asked Bill, as I have come to know him, if he was traumatized?
“If you mean scared – no. The plane was aflame and bullets were flying about my head. I had no choice.”
After the war Sgt. D.A. Lloyd (Doug), RAF, met with the Luftwaffe pilot, Ziggy Meyer, who claimed to have shot them down. More on this, later.
Bill credits their training which prepared them to jump without any panic. When the pilot ordered them to “Jump, jump!” Robertson recalls removing his helmet because the speaker and earphone cords could strangle a person. The first of the crew to jump, Bill had no feeling, no sensation – other than falling and floating. “I was just there!” surrounded by blackness. He didn’t even remember counting to 10 before pulling his rip cord.
Bill does remember wearing his lifejacket, a “Mae West” named for the bosomy actress. Once inflated “we took on the Mae West appearance.”
Robertson watched Charlie crash in a huge ball of flames with tracer bullets exiting the fire just before he landed in a ploughed field. He hit the quick release button at his navel, gathered his parachute and hid it so “Jerry” wouldn’t detect his landing.
“Our training taught us to seek water and hide for 24 hours after which Jerry would give up the search.”
The escape kit included a map, “like a huge silk handkerchief of Belgium”, a small black button on his pants on which was a white dot which if put on a pin would point North, a bag for water, and purifier pills.
An Edgar Allan Poe story in which a letter was hidden in an obvious place, and consequently overlooked, inspired Bill to lay down in a depression in the middle of a field of hay that was only about one foot high.
He was so wound up that he couldn’t sleep and mentally, “I was so damned confused, thankful and lonely.” Though he was mindful to remove his badges, wings and anything that might identify him.
As dawn broke Bill could hear German soldiers singing Lillie Marlene and discovered that he was maybe 600 yards from their barracks that were surrounded by chain link fencing. Without water Bill was forced to move and encountered two Flemish youngsters who spoke neither English nor French but “Fleman”. He wrote “RAF” in the dirt, they understood and went for help, returning with an older man bearing dark coveralls to cover his uniform and wooden clogs to replace his telltale flying boots.
Bill was taken to a barn and upon climbing a 30-40 foot ladder, no mean feat in clogs, he encountered his pilot, Taffy Evans. (Years later that barn was converted to Restaurant Deana.) He learned that the locals had salvaged metal from Charlie’s remains to make saucepans and cooking pans.
Robertson spent 10 days sleeping in an excavated hole in the ground with his Navigator “Danny” Daniels (RAF), Wireless Operator Doug Lloyd (RAF), Flight Engineer Les Board (RAF) and 5 Russians who did everything from scrounging food to feed them to cutting hair. One of Charlie’s Aussie gunners was turned in to the Germans for 50,000 francs by a local farmer who was rumoured to have been killed with a pitch fork for collaborating with the enemy.
Bill was outfitted in a suit belonging to a friendly Belgian Baron of Fillefang mansion and the “tightest shoes I ever had.”
Their diet consisted of very dark rye bread that was so coarse it seemed to include wood shavings, dried peas of questionable colour and other unknown ingredients that proved painful to eat – and smelly cheese. “You did not question what you were eating; you were eating.”
The Russians snared rabbits, caught frogs and pilfered potatoes and carrots from nearby farms for soup. Their only drink was a brew of local berries and tree leaves. No sugar or milk.
They would climb out of their hole in the morning to a chilly, dew-wet environment that didn’t warm up until the sun rose sufficiently. No soap, they rinsed their faces in a nearby stream and shaved every four or five days using a shared razor. “It was a matter of hacking away at your face with cold water to remove any beard.”
After 10 days they were provided bikes to ride into Hasselt, their bomb target, passing marching soldiers. They stayed overnight at the home of Mr. and Mrs. Biernaux where Bill’s biggest treat was a sink to wash in. Next day they took the train to Liege in the company of Jerry. From there they were taken to the “chief’s place” where there “must have been 22 other airmen or army types; mostly American. I was the only Canadian.” There, Bill felt “like a package waiting to be picked up.” The chief, by the way, was Liege’s police chief who was erroneously considered a collaborator.
Bill doesn’t recall ever having hot water. Coffee comprised chicory, a smidgen of coffee and sugar. Lunch was always rough bread and pea soup, rarely including any vegetables. For supper, Bill recalls more pea soup and a broth made from pig’s tail. “I didn’t favour the look of the hairs on the pig’s tail as it did not add any zest to the meal.” He estimates that he lost at least 20 pounds during his time in Belgium.
Robertson exercised daily – push-ups, stretching, running-on-the-spot…If it had been reported to Jerry that a stranger was in a particular house it could have meant death to the hosts.
After Bill’s host Dr. Boulanger was arrested, with an assist by the Chief of Police, he was moved to Madame Trokay’s who still harboured a hatred for the German occupation in WW1. With no radio Bill could not keep informed about the current news out of Normandy. Next – Part 2.