Mayday. Mayday. Mayday . . . Every member of the Goldfish Club has been forced to broadcast these terrifying words from a stricken aircraft, making them one of the most unusual fellowships in the world. Formed during the Second World War to foster comradeship among pilots who had been forced to bail out over water, the Goldfish Club has taken on new airmen (and one woman) ever since and there are hundreds of tales to be told. All are different. All are utterly gripping. Award winning journalist and author Danny Danziger has brought together some of the most powerful stories of this extraordinary brotherhood. A few will leave you open-mouthed, others may reduce you to tears, but all are a fascinating testament to the resilience of the human spirit.
A celebration and a tribute to the warriors of the air who as young men served their country with unselfish devotion. Hear their words. Join these young Canadians in combat. AN EXCERPT FROM THE ACCOUNT OF GROUP CAPTAIN RAYNE SCHULTZ, 410 SQUADRON. It was heading home very fast, a Junkers 188, in thin cloud, well out over the North Sea. We hit it badly, and it was flaming, two-three hundred yards [of] flames streaming behind... my navigator, being a serious-minded individual said, "Let's get in closer and take a good look at it, as it is a different type of aircraft and I can report on it when we get down." So I closed in, which was the stupidest thing I ever did.... The mid-upper gunner was not dead; he was sitting inside of the flames. The next thing I saw the gun traversing down toward us. I broke as fast as I could, but he put forty to forty-four 13mm cannon shells into us. I had pistons blown out of one engine and the constant speed unit blown out in the other. We were going to bail out! We jettisoned the door and the navigator was halfway out when the chap came back from the Ground Control Intercept (GCI) and said, "There is a Force 9 to 10 sea and we will never be able [to rescue] you." So we brought that aircraft back to Bradwell Bay and I can tell you it near flew again. My navigator was wounded, bleeding from the face. I could see the engines running red hot, one was actually running on molten metal... the whole thing glowing inside. The air bottles were shot away and I had no brakes for landing. The Mosquito was in ribbons.
To crash or be shot down into the sea is a terrifying experience. And to escape to tell the tale is a rare and remarkable achievement. But that is precisely what each of the World War Two heroes described here has done; they have come 'down in the drink' and miraculously survived. In doing so, they have all qualified for the 'Goldfish Club'. Ralph Barker tells the hair-raising and inspiring stories of eight such air crews. There is the tale of the Beaufort that ditches in the North Sea, the Wellington crew stranded in the Bay of Biscay and the Mosquito fighter-bomber trapped in the sea off Burma, keeping afloaton the wreckage of his fuselage,concussed, his bones broken, withonly a flask of whisky to keep him going. In DOWN IN THE DRINK, the accounts of heroism and endurance match any from that historic time. They are stories of men from all corners of the British Commonwealth fighting for survival against unimaginable odds. No one could read of their experiences without being stirred by the proof they give that there is no limit to human courage.
In the summer of 1942 a Wellington bomber, operating with 115 Squadron from Marham in Norfolk was forced to ditch in the North Sea returning from a raid on Hamburg. Two members of the crew, who were picked up by the Luftwaffe, have written this book. '
In the early hours of 10 May 1940, Hitler’s armed forces launched their invasion of France and the Low Countries. Shattering the tense peace of the Phoney War, German troops poured west over the borders of France, Belgium, the Netherlands and Luxembourg, supported throughout by the Luftwaffe. Having been deployed to the Continent on the outbreak of war in 1939, the aircrew of the RAF’s Advanced Air Striking Force had long trained and planned for, as well as anticipated, such a moment. Consequently, at 17.15 hours on that fateful Friday Flight Lieutenant William Simpson took off at the controls of his 12 Squadron Fairey Battle having been ordered to attack enemy transport advancing near the town of Junglinster, some ten miles from Luxembourg. It would prove to be Simpson’s only offensive sortie of the Second World War. As they rained their bombs down on the German column, Simpson and his crew were met by a ferocious hail of anti-aircraft fire. They pressed home the attack, scoring four direct hits on the enemy. Their Battle, however, was badly damaged and owing to a leak in the petrol tank Simpson was forced to make an emergency landing. As the Battle slewed to a halt, the cockpit quickly became enveloped in flames. Initially trapped in his seat, Simpson was rescued from the inferno by his two crew, his hands and face severely burnt. Initially helped to a nearby convent by Belgian peasants, Simpson was taken by ambulance back into France and handed over to French Army doctors at a casualty clearing station. At first it was not expected that Simpson would survive his wounds. Both of his eyelids had been burnt off, his nose was virtually destroyed, his eyes swollen and battered, and those of his fingers that remained had been reduced to charred talons. But against all odds, Simpson refused to give in to his shocking injuries. Over the next year-and-a-half, he endured treatment in no less seven French hospitals in both the Occupied and Unoccupied zones of France. Eventually the German and Vichy French authorities agreed to Simpson’s repatriation on medical grounds. His passage home, which involved him traveling through France, Spain and Portugal, finally began on 10 October 1941. Back in Britain, Simpson soon found himself in the hands of the renowned plastic surgeon Sir Archibald McIndoe. The operations that followed over the next two years helped rebuild his shattered body. In One of Our Pilot’s Is Safe, Simpson graphically reveals his moving journey from operational pilot in the Battle of France to membership of the famous Guinea Pig Club.
