Pilot, Halifax MZ-467 ‘C for Charlie’
Born Silkstone, Queensland, 24 May 1923
Allan Lodder was born in the family home of his maternal grandmother, Sarah Morris, in Silkstone, Queensland, on 24 May 1923, to parents Reginald and Gertrude Lodder. In 1929 the family moved to Bundaberg, where Allan’s father had employment with Wyper Brothers as manager of their joinery factory. The family moved again, this time to Gladstone, in 1937. After working in the building and joinery industry in Gladstone for some years, Allan’s father established Enterprise Joinery Works in Herbert Street in 1946.
Allan began his working life at Gladstone Co-operative Dairy as a laboratory technician, and continued to work there until he commenced training for the Royal Australian Air Force at Sandgate.
Allan commenced his aircrew training at 8 Initial Training School at Sandgate in May 1942, on 28 Course, at 18 years of age. He then completed six months of training at Kingaroy, studying electrical science, theory of flight, signals, morse code (send and receive at 12 words per minute), aircraft recognition, navigation, firearms drill and physical training. On completion of the course, Allan was selected to proceed to pilot training — a great thrill, as everyone wanted to be a pilot. From here, those selected travelled by train to Narrandera, NSW, to No. 8 Elementary Flying School to train on DH82 Tiger Moths.
Because Allan’s group had arrived two weeks before flying training could commence, they were transported by tender to a satellite landing field at Bundidgarie, near Grong Grong, each day to assist ground staff handling and refuelling aircraft, before being driven back to the main drome each evening. On one such day, instructor Ken Gregor and his pupil Colin Pickworth flew over the tender, climbed to 200 feet and attempted a stall turn. Without enough height to recover, they crashed into Allan’s tender, killing fellow course pupil Gerald Ryan.
Allan suffered bad lacerations and a dislocated left arm, and after a half-hour wait for the ambulance was taken to Narrandera General Hospital, before being transferred several days later to No. 1 RAAF Hospital at Forest Hill, Wagga Wagga. The wound became infected with gas gangrene, requiring several operations, two blood transfusions and skin grafts. After several months Allan was sent to a sheep station called “Wisconsin” for two months’ convalescence, before doctors passed him fit to continue training.
Having lost five months, Allan was now on 33 Course. His first flight was on 15 February 1943, and he flew solo for the first time on 1 March — a marvellous feeling, climbing away over the hangars, singing as loud as he could. On completion of 33 Course, Allan was posted to No. 8 Service Flying Training School at Bundaberg, Queensland, flying twin-engined Ansons from 14 April, and met up with his old mates from 28 Course, Joe Herman and Rex Breusch, who were nearing the end of their own courses. Allan completed his last training flight on 28 July and was proud to be presented with his pilot’s wings and promoted to Sergeant Pilot.
After several weeks’ pre-embarkation leave, Allan was sent to Bradfield Park, Sydney, for a short time, then boarded the American ship USS Mount Vernon for San Francisco, travelling by train across the USA to Camp Miles Standish, near Boston. After several weeks he boarded the RMS Aquitania at New York, bound for Greenock, Scotland, before travelling by train to Brighton, the RAAF personnel and dispatch base in England. Allan then spent about two months on further ground studies — navigation, aircraft and ship identification, and machine gun, shotgun and pistol shooting.
Allan’s next posting was to 18 EFTS at Fairoaks, Chobham, flying Tiger Moths again to become used to map-reading over England — certainly different to Australia. The crew were camped at Fairoaks, driven each day by tender to Smith’s Lawn, Great Windsor Park, for flying. At the end of December they returned to their base at the Grand Hotel, Brighton, until Allan’s posting to No. 15 Advanced Flying Unit at Babdown Farm, Tetbury, Gloucestershire, flying Airspeed Oxfords.
Early in June Allan was posted to No. 21 Operational Training Unit, B Flight, on twin-engined Wellington bombers at Moreton-in-Marsh, near Oxford. It was here he picked up his crew — navigator, wireless operator, rear and mid-upper gunners, and bomb aimer. Most flying was done from the satellite drome at Enstone. Their first experience of enemy attack came over Caen and Bayeux, France, a few days after D-Day; they evaded a night fighter with evasive corkscrews. On return to England their home drome was closed under fog, forcing a diversion to Newmarket for several days.
On completion of the course, Allan’s next posting was to No. 1664 Heavy Conversion Unit at Dishforth, Yorkshire, flying Halifax Mk II and V four-engined bombers. Near the end of the course, during a night bombing exercise, his port outer engine caught fire; after emergency drills the fire was put out, and on the landing approach on three engines the other port engine lost power. Coming in with plenty of height, Allan managed to put the aircraft down safely. The CO called him to his office the next day, promoted him to Pilot Officer from Flight Sergeant, and entered a green endorsement in his log book for “meritorious” flying.
Allan’s next posting was to 462 Squadron, 4 Group Bomber Command, stationed at Driffield, Yorkshire, with his first flight on 9 November — a check of the new drome with F/Lt (“Fingers”) Finley. Allan’s crew consisted of:
Flew as second pilot with Flying Officer Rate, to gain experience, on a daylight raid on Jülich. A frightening experience in daylight, with so many aircraft dropping bombs at the same time and heavy anti-aircraft fire over the target — you can see too much of what is going on around you. F/O Rate was shot down several months later.
Night attack on an oil refinery at Sterkrade, at 19,000 feet. Coned by a searchlight over the target — a harrowing experience — but managed to get clear and head for home. Unable to pick up Driffield with fuel running low, diverted to the large emergency crash drome at Carnaby, crew standing by the escape hatches with parachutes ready in case of running out of fuel. Landed with only a few minutes’ fuel remaining.
Industrial target at Essen, flying at 20,000 feet, with only light flak.
Railway junctions, at 19,000 feet, with moderate flak; bombed on sky markers.
Target was the Hagen railway marshalling yard, flying at 14,000 feet; encountered ice in the clouds.
On 5 December, Allan went on seven days’ officer kitting-out leave in London, and on 6 December married Eileen Mercer at Woking Methodist Church — missing his train connection and arriving ten minutes late! The couple spent their honeymoon week at the Hotel Windermere in the Lake District. Allan had met Eileen earlier in 1943 at a dance at Chobham Community Hall.
Target was Duisburg railway and communication centres. Flew at 20,000 feet, 10/10 cloud, with moderate icing.
Target was Cologne railway marshalling yards, at 18,000 feet, 10/10 cloud, sky markers, with moderate, accurate flak — some close bursts but no damage.
On 29 December, Allan flew his aircraft “C for Charlie” down to the squadron’s new base with 100 Group at Foulsham in Norfolk.
First trip with 100 Group, in the Frankfurt area, carrying an extra crew member for window manning.
Special operations, bomber support in the Cologne–Dortmund area, at 18,000 feet.
Special operations, bomber support to Mannheim. Experienced heavy flak and thick searchlights.
Special operations, bomber support; bombed Mainz at 20,000 feet, temperature minus 42°F. Thick snow on the runway on return to Foulsham.
Special operations, bomber support over Mannheim, at 20,000 feet, temperature minus 36°F, with moderate flak and searchlights. Hit by anti-aircraft fire over the target on the starboard wing, holing fuel tank 4 and damaging the starboard flaps, undercarriage, and bursting a tyre. On landing, the flat tyre caused the aircraft to swing off the runway and become bogged.
Flying at 20,000 feet over Mannheim, temperature minus 29°F. Light icing, close flak, but no damage.
Flying at 20,000 feet over the Ruhr area. Cloud to 21,000 feet, light icing, temperature minus 35°F.
Special operations flying over the Ruhr area again, at 20,000 feet, temperature minus 42°F. A very quiet and safe trip.
Special operations over Stade, on the Elbe, Hamburg, flying at 20,000 feet, temperature minus 35°F.
Special operations to Stade aerodrome, Hamburg. Thick searchlights; port outer motor feathered 50 miles off the English coast. Landed back at base on three engines.
Special operations to the Lechfeld–Munich area. Bombed the Lechfeld aerodrome at 18,000 feet.
Special operations to the Augsburg area. Shot down by a German fighter from underneath, Allan went straight out of control and the aircraft caught fire. The only crew member to escape by his own efforts was Casterton, the rear gunner. Allan did not know what eventually happened, but was certain the aircraft exploded and that he and Pete Naylor must have been blown clear; the remainder of the crew were killed.
Allan regained consciousness falling through the cold, dark night, with the target indicator flares above him. He felt for his chest parachute and found it still intact; he must have pulled the ripcord, as he remembers the silk cords pulling out of their pockets, then everything went red before he hit the ground in a forest, saying a prayer of thanks at being alive. He could hear other aircraft gradually fading away as they headed back to England.
Allan walked towards his burning aircraft, hoping to find other survivors, without success, then set off hoping to walk south to Switzerland. He came across a path leading to cart tracks and a small village, where the people took him in, gave him clean cloth and oil for his burns, and eventually carried him by horse and cart to Kloster Holzen, then being used as a German field hospital, about 25 miles north of Augsburg.
I was pilot of Halifax Mk X aircraft, C for Charlie, of 462 Squadron, Foulsham, attached to 100 Group, engaged on a special duties operation to an aerodrome about fifteen miles north of Augsburg, on 17th April 1945. When we turned on our “fishpond” ten minutes before target, it was reported faulty, so after dipping the wings to look below for signs of enemy aircraft, I commenced my bombing run.
In the final stages of the bombing run we were hit by gunfire from below. The control column jammed forward and, even though I tried with all my strength, I could not move it. Luckily the aircraft was in a flat, steep dive. I tried to call the crew on the intercom without success, and guessed the radio set had been hit. I pressed the emergency bell several times, then my flight engineer came through from amidships, ablaze all over, and collapsed down the steps to the navigator’s compartment.
The enemy aircraft must have been following us down, as once again we were hit from astern, tracers disappearing ahead of us. I took my navigator-type chute from the locking lever on the throttle pedestal and clipped it on without releasing my safety harness. The cockpit was engulfed in flames as I struggled, attempting to undo the clip. I jettisoned my top hatch, realising this would be my only hope of escape, and tried to break the harness straps, hoping they had been burnt partly through. My oxygen mask caught fire and, after taking off my helmet, I put my head partly out the side window and tried to protect my face with my arm and hand.
I said what I thought were my last prayers, and prayed for the ground to come and finish my agony. There was a strong sinking feeling, then I was falling through the cool, dark night air. I felt for my chute and was relieved to find it still intact. I do not remember pulling the chute cord, but recollect the great feeling of the silk cords pulling out of each pocket. I realised I must be close to the ground and, for some reason, started to count. I reached five before hitting the ground, at 3:30am.
See also: The Crash of MZ-467 — the fuller narrative, as told by Allan and published in Pimpernel Squadron, including the combat report filed by the German night fighter crew.
Allan does not remember most of the detail for the first week, apart from being well looked after by the nuns, doctors and other German soldiers. Early in May the American advance overtook the area, and he was taken out by ambulance through a field dressing station at Crailsheim. From there he was flown back in a DC-3, with other wounded, to England, near Swindon. The Red Cross met the aircraft on arrival and sent telegrams home to Eileen — the first news she had that Allan was alive.
From Swindon, Allan was taken by ambulance to hospital at Cosford, near Wolverhampton. On 8 May the war in Europe ended; doctors reset his ankle and dressed his burns, and the commanding surgeon gave him a whisky in celebration. A couple of days later Eileen arrived at the hospital, and the couple booked a room at a village inn; Eileen pushed Allan each day in his wheelchair back to hospital for treatment. Once his left foot was out of plaster he graduated to crutches, was granted a few weeks’ leave, and was then sent to physiotherapy at Loughborough College for several weeks.
On completion of this, Allan was sent to Mongewell Park, a mansion on the banks of the Thames, for convalescence. Squadron Leader Russell, the padre who had married Allan and Eileen at Woking, arranged for Eileen to accompany Allan on the ship home; he still needed assistance on crutches at the time, but was mobile again by the time arrangements were finalised.
Allan and Eileen sailed from Liverpool on a Bullard Line ship called the “Umtali”, arriving back in Sydney via Las Palmas, Durban and Perth. They then travelled by train to Brisbane, then Gladstone.