Forces: Land ~ Air ~ Sea ~ Home
A MILITARY TRIBUTE WEBZINE . . . AS YOU WERE . . .
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Compiled by Bill Hillman
FLASH. . . Editor and Webmaster: Bill Hillman: hillmans@wcgwave.ca
www.hillmanweb.com/rcaf/mag
JULY 2003
Stranraer 949, #9 BR Squadron, Bella Bella, B.C. December
1941
The RCAF believed that it was prudent to utilize aircraft of British origin. Therefore, in 1939 Canadian Vikers of Montreal received an order to build five Stranraers. The aircraft had been designed in England by R.J. Mitchell – of the Spitfire fame – and was a development of the 1925 Supermarine Southampton Flying Boat. Eighteen twin engine, biplane Stranraers were produced by the Supermarine Aviation Works Limited in Southampton. In 1935 these Flying Boats went into service with the RAF.
Following the test flight of the Canadian prototype, RCAF #907, on October 21, 1938, a total of forty aircraft were ordered from Canadian Vickers. At Jerico Beach, No. 4(BR) Squadron received its first Stranraer, #912 on July 16, 1939. Stranraers were used by eight RCAF Squadrons: Numbers 4, 6, 7, 9, 13, 117, 120, and 166.
RCAF Stranraers had a range of approximately 1,750 miles and were powered by two Bristol Pegasus X or XX11 engines.
Maximum speed – 152 mph; Cruising speed – 135 mph; ceiling 16,100 feet.
During the war 16 RCAF Stranraers crashed; 9 category
A, 4 Category B, and 3 Category C.
Ref. JERICO BEACH and the West Coast Flying Boat Squadrons
– by Chris Weicht.
A CRANK, A CRANK, MY KINGDOM FOR A CRANK!
(with apologies to Shakespeare)
By Fred Burnyeat
Fred Burnyeat – September 15, 1941, #2 Wireless School, Calgary
Ready to take off in the mighty Tiger Moth
It was a normal patrol from Uclulet on the 8th. Of January 1942 on Stranraer #954 at 0800 hours. We gained altitude and headed down the coast looking for strange boats, subs, or anything out of the ordinary. Our pilot announced that we had iced up. The ice covered the plane and, in particular, the windshields to the point where the wipers could not remove it.
The pilot said he was turning back to warmer air and then we would proceed. This did not work so he decided to land in the ocean and when the ice melted, we would take off and resume our patrol. As we approached for a landing, I thought the waves looked pretty high, but we carried on and hit the first wave with one hell of a bang. The second wave was not so bad and the third one we skimmed over and rode it down into the trough. A Navy Corvette was sitting close by and they asked on their Aldis light if we were ok. We replied that we were, but the Navy said they would stand by.
We were being buffeted around quite a bit so the pilot called for drogues. He then decided to taxi towards the entrance to a harbour but stopped because he was afraid of shore rocks or a shoal. He called for the anchor and shut off the engines.
Things being calmer, I looked around and realized we were drifting out with the tide. The pilot decided to restart the engines. Hearing this, the Gunner in the prow picked up the two cranks that were used for start-up. The engines would not turn over fast enough on the batteries alone so two crew members had to go up on the deck, insert the cranks, and help turn the engines over. The Gunner stepped out to the rail and placed the cranks on the deck momentarily and then climbed up intending to retrieve them. In the heavy seas they didn’t stay on the icy deck long but slid off into the chuck! This was reported to the Pilot who tried the battery but could only get one engine started.
We were then obliged to retrieve the anchor and drogues. These had settled down when we were at rest and when we drifted backwards they moved up towards the prow. The anchor also moved back and was caught up in the drogues. We reached out the window on the starboard side and released the drogue cable then pulled the mess aboard, then we released the anchor and stowed it all in the bow.
A small fishing boat arrived and towed us into Sooke Harbour. We anchored in a shallow area and they chauffeured us two at a time to the shore. They also informed us that the tides coming in and out of Sooke had, over many years, worn it down so that it was over 90 feet deep! No wonder our anchor had been useless. The Captain phoned our Station and they promised to send out two cranks in the morning.
The next morning our engineer was going over the plane and, on lifting the floorboards, announced that we were not taking on any water but the beam across the fuselage had been driven up when we hit the first wave and was badly bent.
The station told us that, when the cranks arrived, to fly the aircraft to #3 Repair Depot at Vancouver. They said they would send a plane down to Vancouver to fly us back to the station. This pickup did not happen for three days because the coast was fogged in. On the third day, as three of us were not on hand, they flew back without us and we were left to find our own way back to Uclulet. By then we were broke so we asked the adjutant for a transport warrants. He obliged saying it would be taken off our next pay. In my case, that did not happen.
#954 was returned to #4 BR Squadron and flew many more ops.
Fred Burnyeat, Class Senior 20 A Flight, giving command
“EYES RIGHT”,
Calgary Wireless School, Sept. 1941
Another Stranraer Story
Published February 1997
By Chris Weicht ~ Box 85 ~ Chemainus, BC ~ V0R 1K0
This 288 page work is an excellent coverage of West Coast air defences during WWII.
F/L F.S Carpenter, 1940
On December 9, 1941, S/L Carpenter assumed command of 9 BR Squadron, and immediately commenced operational patrols with the two Stranraers #949 and #936. The Stranraers took off from Bella Bella in response to a report that a Japanese submarine was sighted North of Vancouver Island in the Queen Charlotte Strait. The search was uneventful, but the sighting was real and underlined the urgency of bringing the Squadron up to full strength. Four more Stranraers were taken on strength.
Just before Christmas 1941, the first contingent of airmen disembarked from the Union Steamship into the cold and unpromising December darkness. Assembled under the stark illumination on the lighted jetty, the group was inspected by S/L Carpenter who ordered the Station Sergeant Major and his crew to complete a thorough kit search. All liquor found was emptied over the side of the jetty, taking with it any preconceived notions of a “merry” Christmas.
F/Sgt. Guy LaRamee arrived as a corporal with this first group and put in many long hours as a Flight Engineer for the Stranrear patrols.. After a patrol returned to base, the ground crew refuelled the aircraft at the bouy from 45 gallon drums – and still faced a pre-flight inspection of the aircraft at the crack of dawn on the following morning.
F/Sgt. laRamee had just completed one of these early morning
inspections and was about to step into the motor boat to return to shore
when another boat arrived and S/L Carpenter jumped out, The S/L ordered
LaRamee and a rigger, Corporal Asselin, back on board the Stranraer
with the sharp command, “Get Cranking! – a ponderous task necessary
due to the “Stranies” lack of a self starter. There was a slight delay
because Carpenter did not notice that the master switch was not on, but
they finally got both engines running and took off. Over the roar of the
engines Carpenter yelled at LaRemee to get the Navigator and Wireless Operator,
to which the Flight Sergeant truthfully responded, “not on board Sir.”
Carpenter shot back, “Well, get me one of the Gunners!”
Again the puzzled reply was, “No Gunners on board Sir.”
Carpenter exploded in frustration, “Who the Christ is
aboard this aircraft?” and took off his service hat and stomped on it.
Flt./ Sgt. LaRemee had no choice but to inform the Squadron
Leader that the head count was only three. Carpenter was still barking
out orders, “Can you man the machine guns?”
“Yes Sir.”
“Well put them on Sergeant!”
They flew on and on through dense fog but LaRemee had no idea where they were going. Suddenly they heard a deafening bang, after which Carpenter cranked the Stranraer into a steep turn, and dropped all the depth charges.
Somehow S/L Carpenter found his way back through the fog, and on their return to base the angry Squadron Leader called a meeting of all aircrew members. He severely raked them over the coals for their lack of organization; this action produced looks of consternation on many sleepy faces.
Flt./Sgt. LaRemee learned nothing conclusive about his mysterious patrol, but he firmly believed that they had responded to a Japanese submarine sighting and had been fired on by the enemy.
Years later, LaRemee, an RCN Lieutenant, met Air Commodore Carpenter at Shearwater, Nova Scotia, in the station’s Ward Room. LaRemee approached Carpenter and recounted the incident, but the mystery was to remain a mystery, the Air Commodore flatly denied any knowledge of the occurrence.
A Sentimental Journey
By Eric Woodnutt
