Sink the Bismarck! HMS Ark Royal, 26 May 1941

[Head in the clouds.]

11 hours ago, iang said:

Once I've cut the frames, I'll start a WIP.

That will be worth watching. It is times like this that I wish I had carried on modelling as a youngster rather than being drawn away by other interests/distractions although my fascination with all things military has travelled with me through my life. I feel that I have too little time to catch up on so many lost years. Hey ho!

[Terry1954]

14 hours ago, iang said:

I've just bought a Dremel Moto-Saw (power jigsaw)

@Courageous take note!

 

Your Ark build WIP will be something to follow indeed!

 

Terry

[Courageous]

49 minutes ago, Terry1954 said:

@Courageous take note!

 

I'd have to be doing some serious scratch building to get one of them .

 

Stuart

[surfsup]

I will be watching this one with keen interest.....Cheers mark

[Nick C]

Looking forward to following this one!

 

Cheers

 

Nick 

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

I am not in the same place as the plastic / brass at the moment, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t do anything towards the build.  Because this one actually started as as part of a different thread, things have been done in an odd order, so forgive me if I go back right to the start.  I’d say that the master of the intro on this board - with some stiff competition, certainly - is @Procopius; but time to set the scene.

 

It’s already been mentioned in a couple of posts that the weather on 26 May 1941 was pretty stormy - but I often find that people who haven’t been to sea for a living sometimes don’t really get what that means.  We’re not talking about poor diddums Jack Tar perhaps feeling a little queasy: we’re talking about this... [fairly obviously neither Ark nor 1941 - but at a guess approx a Force 7, which is less than what what they were dealing with]

...or this [pretty well-known shot of Furious in heavy weather - not actually that rough, judging by right of shot]

 

Keep those pictures in mind when you read this account, taken from Gerald Woods’ “Wings At Sea”.

 

All night of 25-26 May, Renown, Sheffield & Ark Royal ploughed and plunged North through the rising sea into the teeth of a north-westerly gale.  Speed had to be reduced progressively through the night from 25 to 17 knots to avoid heavy damage to the ships’ engines, since the propellors were churning out of the water almost as much as they were submerged, and damaged propellor shafts were the last things we needed now we were deep into the Bay of Biscay, shortly within range of shore-based aircraft & U-Boats.  [Bismarck, which was sailing roughly ESE, would therefore have had a following sea, which is far less punishing on the ship].

 

That night there as very little sleep for anyone, either through apprehension or the realisation that so much depended on us.  Those who had no such worries (and there were a few) could not sleep because of the noise as everything not firmly secured rattled away.  Aircraft in the hangars were double-lashed and guards posted to deal with any breakaways.  It was forbidden to go onto the flight deck as the wind was now touching 50 knots, and even though the deck was 60’ above the waterline, waves were washing over it.  Slowly we began to realise that even if we did get to the area on time, flying might be impossible.

 

At 0500 on 26 May I made my way from the crew room to the ops room in the island.  It was the sort of black morning when you search your conscience for reassurance that this really was your chosen profession.  Just the few yards between the companionway [ladder] and the watertight door into the island took my breath away, and almost my body too.  The waves were frightening to look at, dark green and capped with monstrous white foam.  IF we got our aircraft off the deck; IF we found the target and dropped torpedoes - there were still the twin prospects of being shot down by an enemy known to have accurate radar-controlled guns, or making a bad deck landing and going over the side... either meaning almost certain death in these mountainous seas.  Even a normal approach was going to be dicey in the extreme as the flight deck was now rising and falling about 60’, and this (in a length of 800’) presented an interesting problem.  At what point did you stop climbing and start rolling down the flight deck out of control?  We would soon find out in a practical way.

 

Lieutenant Commander Pat Stringer, the FDO, had a monumental task on his hands as he tried to organise the range on a deck as slippery as an ice-rink.  Even double the normal number of hands could hardly hold the heavy biplanes in position as they tried alternately to crab sideways over the side or to commence an unmanned take-off down the wildly rising and falling deck.

 

.............

 

Our torpedo-bomber resources were stretched to the limit, and the striking force could not be ranged until all the search aircraft had returned.  Landing on was extremely hazardous, with the 60’ rise and fall of the deck and over 40 knots of wind.  Because of the wind, the ship had to slow right down to about 8 knots; this increased the pitch and roll, but any more speed risked taking the wind up to the Swordfish’s stalling speed of 55 knots, and the aircraft could be blown back over the round-down.  As it was everyone got back safely [from the search sorties], though several aircraft had to be waved off and go round two or three times.  Three aircraft almost did the splits, and were pranged on landing.

 

..............

 

For the second strike the plan was to climb to about 5000’ above Sheffield, and to make a co-ordinated attack by sub-flight; 5 sections of 3 aircraft each attacking simultaneously from different bearings, dividing the enemy fire and giving us better prospects of hitting and getting away.  At least, that was the theory.

 

The practice was somewhat different.  The cloudbase was down to below 1000’, and solid right up to 6000’. Going through this dark-grey murk was quite frightening with a ton of torpedo slung underneath.  After a few minutes we realised that in these conditions formation flying was dangerous, but it would be even more dangerous to try to break out of it - so onward, ever upward we climbed ‘hanging on the prop’.  Just what happened inside those clouds will never be known, but on comparing notes later it seemed that each aircraft came out of the top independently, started to ice up, decided he’d lost his fellows and dived back down through the grey cotton wool.

 

When we emerged, I remember Alan saying to me over the Gosports “OK, shall we go in?”, and my reply, in a voice half an octave higher than normal, “Fine, let’s get it over with!”.  Then we flattened out, ready for the run-in.

 

The minute or so that followed will be forever engraved on my memory.  There she was, less than a mile away, big, black, cowled funnel, menacing, with every close-range weapon stabbing flame as we steadied on our approach.  100 knots, 100’, 1000 yards, just as the textbook says.  ‘Flash’ Seager, the TAG, was sensibly crouching down in the cockpit, sitting on a lead-covered codebook.  Later he told me I was shouting my head off as we ran in - probably true, but what it was I have no idea.  All I know is that as we dropped our ‘tinfish’, A4 Charlie almost leapt into the air, and as we turned away aft tightly, we were suspended motionless for a split second that felt like an eternity as every gun seemed to concentrate on us.  The flak ripped through the fabric-covered fuselage like peas on a drum.  ‘Flash’ yelled, and then Alan said ‘Christ! just look at this lot’, as Bismarck put her 15” guns on a flat trajectory, firing ahead of us - either intending to blast us off the face of the Earth or, as happened in fact, to make a Beecher’s Brook of water splashes 100’ high through which we must fly, and which might bring us spinning down into the raging sea.  

 

‘Flash’ looked grey, but at the time it didn’t worry me; I had no idea what colour I was - probably even greyer than he.  As we sped aft, opening the range and out of immediate danger, I asked him if he was all right.  He said yes, but he didn’t look at all happy, and went on to say he’d been hit in the buttocks, so I turned and told this to Alan, giving him a bearing back to the ship.  I saw that Alan’s flying overalls were torn in the right shoulder - he said he was all right but there was blood seeping down his back.  ‘How long before we’re home?’  ‘About 25 minutes’. ‘OK, I can hold on’.  I had escaped injury, but the burst that had wounded both of them had gone clean through my Mae West.

 

We formated on ‘Scruffy’ Cooper with his beloved ASV set, and on the other side was Jock Moffat, laughing his head off as usual.  During the trip home I told the other two aircraft by Aldis that I needed an emergency landing, and the other two peeled away to let me fire off red Very lights.  Quickly Ark acknowledged that we had wounded on board, and cleared the deck for what could easily be a very ropey landing - but all was well; Alan held her off until the last minute and she sank lightly onto the deck.  Straight over the lowered barrier we went and stretchers came alongside.  Alan was able to walk to the sick bay, but poor ‘Flash’, in great pain, had to be carried.

 

Time seemed completely irrelevant that night.  We had flown about 100 miles in total to and from the attack - about 1¼ hours’ continuous flying - but from take-off to landing was 3 hours, so we must have spent about an hour climbing up through the clouds and coming back down again.  No-one could be sure whether we had scored a hit in those conditions.  Not a single aircraft had been lost to enemy fire, but another three had strained undercarriages after doing the splits on that pitching flight deck.  There was nothing else to do but to load our remaining serviceable aircraft for another strike at dawn.

 

The following morning the weather was, if anything, even worse.  Though a shadower was flown off at dawn - 0430 - aircraft for the strike could not be ranged on deck, and in the hangars double lashings were necessary.  A 12-aircraft strike was finally ranged at 0930 and launched almost immediately, but held off as Rodney & KGV were about to open fire.

 

One had to feel some sadness at the loss of so beautiful and courageous a ship - but this sympathy very soon disappeared as we were attacked by Fw200 Condors and Heinkel IIIs just as we were recovering the strike - and thus unable to get off an extremely eager flight of Fulmars. 

 

Alan & ‘Flash’ seemed to be comfortable in the sick bay, both heavily sedated.  Having seen their wounds the previous evening, their cheerfulness was surprising (though perhaps they were considering the alternative).  Alan’s shoulder had the flesh laid back in layers right to the bone, and considerable ribaldry had been generated by ‘Flash’s’ unfortunate experience.  I had to tell them that A4 Charlie - our brand new Blackburn-made Swordfish - was no more.  When counting, we’d got to 200 holes of all sizes, when the air engineer officer said that he had long ago decided that Charlie was a complete write-off, and it was a credit to Fairey Aviation and Alan Swanton that we got back at all; theoretically we should have fallen to pieces straight after the attack.  So, after only 40 hours’ flying on her Form 700, she was put below, to be disembarked to North Front and cannibalised for spares.  So now I had no crew and no aircraft.

 

 

 

 

 

By 1941 the FAA had lost many of the experienced aircrew who’d started the war; many who flew on this attack were RNVR crews straight out of training.  With under 400 hours, aged 22-24.

 

Respect.

 

[Incidentally, one of the young pilots was Sub Lieutenant Mike Lithgow of 820 NAS, at the time 20 years old.  Later he was a well-known test pilot who briefly held the World Speed Record in a Supermarine Swift, and then was killed in the prototype BAC111 when it crashed in a deep stall in 1963.]

Edited July 3, 2019 by Ex-FAAWAFU

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

Finally for this evening, I haven’t only been reading about the real thing; I’ve also been planning.  I know that I need to fit 15 Swordfish on deck, all torpedo armed, ranged ready for take-off.  If you look at the account of the action to which I linked at the start, there is a good photo of a similar range on board Victorious; they’re like sardines, with some aircraft spread, some still folded (though sometimes still with the engine running while folded).  So how to fit them in while leaving plenty of deck for the take-off run?

 

I took my faithful test Stringbag and produced a few paper cut-outs as a template - then did the same for a folded version.  Finally, at the weekend I traced the outline of the back end of Ark’s flight deck.

 

And this is where we end up, after some juggling about and trying different configurations:

 

The final version will probably be slightly more spread out than that, because the account makes it clear that they had a lot of extra people on deck to hold the aircraft steady, help with spreading etc.  But that gives the broad idea.  You will note that I have also annotated the two cabs with long range tanks, and the two with ASV, plus the squadron of each aircraft - that’s because (thanks to Ian’s excellent research) I know that each squadron had a slightly different approach to the paint scheme.

 

Still, I think I have identified that 11 spread and 4 folded Swordfish is going to be about right.

 

Off to see Apollo 11 tomorrow evening, so maybe nothing til later in the week.

 

Crisp

Edited July 2, 2019 by Ex-FAAWAFU

[Jamie @ Sovereign Hobbies]

This looks very promising!

[Sturmovik]

"Two thousand men and fifty thousand tons of steel set the course for the Atlantic with the Allies on their heel."

[Procopius]

1 hour ago, Ex-FAAWAFU said:

 I’d say that the master of the intro on this board - with some stiff competition, certainly - is @Procopius; but time to set the scene..]

Aw shucks, but if I could build the actual models as well as you, I'd never need the intros.

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

I decided to take a small break from the air group, & try a bit of the Tetra brass on the ship itself.  It fits like a glove & has that feel of quality when you fold it - the right combination of not being too flimsy (so if you’re careful you shouldn’t trash it) while at the same time folding easily in the places you actually want it to!

 

This is one of the many cut-outs in the hull (starboard for’d, to be precise).  The section on the right of pic that partially isn’t shown will in due course have a North Star paravane in it.

 

[stevehnz]

Thus looks like being a cracking thread @Ex-FAAWAFU . Having read the Moffat book more recently & Ludovic Kennedy's book ages ago, it is a story I've long been fascinated by, your preamble caught the feel of it beautifully, I'm definitely along for the ride on this one.

Steve.

[Courageous]

I'm still getting over the preamble. Can't get my head round on how you land an aircraft on a deck that's going up and down so much .

Fitting that PE while the plastic is still attached to sprue is a good idea.

 

Stuart

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

Stuart, it might sound as though I am being facetious, but I’m not; the answer is “timing”.  The clue is in Woods’ reference to how close the relative wind speed was to the Swordfish’s stalling speed; with enough wind over the deck the closing speed of aircraft to ship would have been very small - 10 knots, maybe, to allow them a margin for safety?  Then it becomes a matter of working out the pattern of the ship’s movement [even in the heaviest sea a ship tends to move in a discernible cycle] and then timing your approach to get you over the round down at a relatively quiet moment.  The LSO (“batsman”) is also an important factor - especially for a fixed-wing aircraft - because he gets a feel for the ship’s movement; it is very much an art rather than a science.  The LSO was himself a very experienced pilot, and you can be certain that they’d have had the A Team on watch for this one to get them all back.  Even so, in each strike c.20% of the returning cabs damaged their undercarriage; this was “Last Chance Saloon” stuff.

 

Though they wouldn’t have known this at the time, it’s exactly the same technique as deck landing a helicopter.  None of this is to say that it’s easy, or anything like it - but it can be done, and they knew they had to do it now or lose their prey.  This ability to work in conditions that grounded other aircraft is also why the Stringbag went on to have a hugely successful second life as an anti-submarine aircraft operating from the tiny decks of escort carriers. 

Edited July 5, 2019 by Ex-FAAWAFU

[iang]

On 02/07/2019 at 23:05, Ex-FAAWAFU said:

Finally for this evening, I haven’t only been reading about the real thing; I’ve also been planning.  I know that I need to fit 15 Swordfish on deck, all torpedo armed, ranged ready for take-off.  If you look at the account of the action to which I linked at the start, there is a good photo of a similar range on board Victorious; they’re like sardines, with some aircraft spread, some still folded (though sometimes still with the engine running while folded).  So how to fit them in while leaving plenty of deck for the take-off run?

 

I took my faithful test Stringbag and produced a few paper cut-outs as a template - then did the same for a folded version.  Finally, at the weekend I traced the outline of the back end of Ark’s flight deck.

 

And this is where we end up, after some juggling about and trying different configurations:

 

The final version will probably be slightly more spread out than that, because the account makes it clear that they had a lot of extra people on deck to hold the aircraft steady, help with spreading etc.  But that gives the broad idea.  You will note that I have also annotated the two cabs with long range tanks, and the two with ASV, plus the squadron of each aircraft - that’s because (thanks to Ian’s excellent research) I know that each squadron had a slightly different approach to the paint scheme.

 

Still, I think I have identified that 11 spread and 4 folded Swordfish is going to be about right.

 

Off to see Apollo 11 tomorrow evening, so maybe nothing til later in the week.

 

Crisp

 

 

Looks good other than the aircraft with folded wings. All of the wings would have been spread when ranged for a strike.  Otherwise spot-on with aircraft on the centre line, and aircraft on the outside toed-in at an angle. 

 

I have a rare photo of 13 Swordfish on the deck of Ark Royal, taken from another aircraft that was above the bow, that I've never seen published anywhere. It's from an unknown FAA aircrew/maintenance crew photograph album that served on Ark Royal, Victorious and then Implacable that I own. Mark and I are going to use it in our  Bismarck book, so I'm reluctant to share it now.  It shows the port-side deck level pom-poms in place (so post July 1941). In the photo maintenance is occurring to the port side catapult. This mights be enough to date the photo accurately, once I can get back to TNA to look at the logs.

 

As for the range of 13 Swordfish in the photo, they are arranged as you show, but with wings spread.  11 are Fairey built (with either high straight or wavy camouflage demarcation on the fuselage). One is definitely a Blackfish and one might be either.  

 

 

 

Edited July 9, 2019 by iang

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

Ian, are you 100% certain that they would all have been spread?  It was not uncommon to range and start aircraft still folded, and then spread them during the launch as space became available.  As in this picture (which I know is neither Ark Royal nor Swordfish, but illustrates the point well).

 

On the other hand, a 13-aircraft range can’t have been that common, and it’s only 2 cabs shy of my 15 - so if your photo shows all spread, that’s compelling evidence.

 

However, you have answered at least one more of my questions, namely exactly when the two port Pom-Poms were fitted.  Post-Bismarck, it seems.  I assume until then there was just an empty sponson, as shown in numerous pre-war photos?

Edited July 9, 2019 by Ex-FAAWAFU

[iang]

Yes, immediately before the strike, with the ship into the wind, the wings would have been spread (though while the strike force was being spotted on deck, it is likely, in the prevailing weather conditions, that all would remain folded until the last aircraft was positioned).

 

The most serious complication on 26th May was the weather.   Force ‘H’ was steaming into the teeth of a full northwesterly gale. On the Royal Navy scale in use at the time, which rated the sea state on a scale from 0 (Calm) to 8 (Precipitous), Force ‘H” recorded Force 7 (Very High) seas, with waves from 24-36 feet (measured from crest to trough).  However, on the more commonly recognised Beaufort Wind Scale, which carried ratings from 0 (Calm) to 12 (Hurricane) the morning was rated Force 10 (Whole Gale) with winds between “48-55 knots” and with “very high waves”. By 1900 when the Bismarck striking force was launched, the weather was, if anything, worse. Ark Royal, with her deck 62 feet above the water, was “taking it green”, and the wind over her flight deck had reached 50 knots. The Captain ordered an officer down to the flight deck with a sextant to accurately measure the rise and fall of the stern section -  53 feet.  A second reading gave 56 feet. In such conditions, Lieutenant-Commander Stringer had to double up his flight deck parties, assigning up to twenty men to steady each Swordfish against the movement of the ship.  Even with the increased numbers it proved impossible to hold the relatively light weight Swordfish, with its dual high lift wings, on deck with the ship steaming into the wind, and finally Maund had to steer the ship across the wind while the range was being established.

 

At 1845 officer flight crew headed down to the flight deck to man their planes (rating TAGs were already milling about the deck waiting to board).   At 1855, Maund turned his ship into the 50-knot wind, reducing her revolutions to produce a speed of six-knots, just enough to maintain steerage way in the tumultuous seas.  818 Squadron Swordfish had been ranged up front just behind the island, with Coode’s 5A spotted first, followed by the rest of his sub-flight, and then Keane’s sub-flight.  The deck crews, having removed the double tie downs lashing the planes to the deck, and having spread their wings, struggled to hold the Swordfish against the gale.  At 1900, as Ark Royal’s flight deck pitched down into the falling sea, Coode's 5A took off............  By 1910 all fifteen Swordfish had launched.  

 

Edited July 10, 2019 by iang

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

I’m well aware that the weather was appalling - indeed I have already posted about it at length, including the additional men to hold the aircraft steady(-ish).  And Stringer was wearing a “safety harness” [aka rope round his waist] in some accounts.  

 

It’s more than “likely” that the range (i.e. the actual process of ranging) would have been done with folded aircraft; a folded Swordfish would have been easier to control in such weather (though frankly not by much), and there would be less danger of damaging a wing etc.  It was also SOP, for fairly obvious reasons [though the weather was such that they’d have ignored SOP if it helped, on that day of all days].

 

As for my model, in the end it is going to depend on exactly which phase I chose to depict - cross-wind range, the turn into wind with manned aircraft, just settling into wind with Stringer about to launch Coode’s aircraft, or what?  Each would have different combinations of how many cabs spread, how many had already started their engines, etc.  That last point might yet be the clincher; one of the experiments yet to be done on the Swordfish is how convincingly I cam depict a spinning airscrew.  If my efforts look rubbish, that makes it more likely I’ll be showing her closer to 1845 than 1900...

[Courageous]

7 minutes ago, Ex-FAAWAFU said:

That last point might yet be the clincher; one of the experiments yet to be done on the Swordfish is how convincingly I cam depict a spinning airscrew.

IMHO, in this scale of 1/350, if the prop is going, you wouldn't see any disk. I'd go for something like this:

It's such a subjective thing and you'll make your own mind up.

I know that this is way into the future...... but have you thought about the display base? A nice howling sea with a 'kite' taking off would be rather dramatic .

 

Stuart

[stevehnz]

8 hours ago, iang said:

At 1900, as Ark Royal’s flight deck pitched down into the falling sea, Coode's 5A took off............  By 1910 all fifteen Swordfish had launched.  

That simple passage tells so much especially after reading what you've written before hand, this is an amazing story & I'm really looking forward to Crisp's build of it. Thanks for helping to set the scene.

55 minutes ago, Courageous said:

IMHO, in this scale of 1/350, if the prop is going, you wouldn't see any disk. I'd go for something like this:

I'd be with Stuart on this one.

Steve.

[iang]

1 hour ago, Ex-FAAWAFU said:

 

As for my model, in the end it is going to depend on exactly which phase I chose to depict - cross-wind range, the turn into wind with manned aircraft, just settling into wind with Stringer about to launch Coode’s aircraft, or what?  Each would have different combinations of how many cabs spread, how many had already started their engines, etc.  That last point might yet be the clincher; one of the experiments yet to be done on the Swordfish is how convincingly I cam depict a spinning airscrew.  If my efforts look rubbish, that makes it more likely I’ll be showing her closer to 1845 than 1900...

 

Indeed, you have several choices, but if I was modelling the cross wing range, I would have the the leading aircraft spread first.

 

 One thing I've just noticed in your flight-deck diagram is that you have the 2nd sub-flight (810 Squadron) ranged after the 1st sub-flight. This is incorrect - the 3rd sub-flight (with Keane's 5K in the centre) was ranged second, with the 2nd sub-flight led by Pattisson's 2A ranged third. The second wave, with the  4th sub-flight, led by Stewart-Moore's 4A was ranged fourth, followed by the rest of 820 Squadron of the 5th and 6th sub-flights and is correct in your drawing.

[Terry1954]

As @stevehnz says, this is an amazing story and has really set the scene. I've been fascinated by this episode since I first started to take an interest in such things as a very young teenager, probably even before that, but it's only now, with this thread that I can really appreciate what actually went on for those airmen (air and ground crew) and sailors at the time. I've done a fair bit of small boat sailing including a couple of times in a force 8 and that was quite an experience for me at the time, and we once did a channel crossing on a commercial ferry when conditions off the Isle of Wight were reaching force 11 - the captain had warned us that conditions across would be "dire". The other ferries out of Portsmouth were all cancelled but for some reason ours continued and everything seemed just fine ......... until we rounded the Isle of Wight on our passage to Jersey! It was an experience my wife swore she would never wish to repeat, so I can only begin to imagine the conditions during those days back then. Total respect to the lot of them.

 

I'm with Stuart on the prop solution also, especially in this scale.

 

Excellent thread for so many reasons.

 

Terry

[Courageous]

20 minutes ago, Terry1954 said:

until we rounded the Isle of Wight on our passage to Jersey! It was an experience my wife swore she would never wish to repeat, so I can only begin to imagine the conditions during those days back then.

...and that was the main reason I went into subs.

[Terry1954]

43 minutes ago, Courageous said:

...and that was the main reason I went into subs.

I must be fortunate in that I am not easily sea sick .......... on the ferry trip I mentioned, my poor wife was laid flat out in our cabin, but I went in search of food (well, I was hungry). It felt like I had to fight my way up corridors and steps to get to the on board restaurant due to the ships movement. When I got there the scene was like a disaster movie. Tables and chairs strewn everywhere, and two poor souls lying on side couches, one lady in her own vomit! The fist office came across to me and asked if he could be of assistance. I said I'd come for my lunch, to which he laughed, explained all the restaurant staff were ill and invited me to help myself to a sandwich from the fridge. That was the best pork sandwich I had ever had!

 

Terry

[Ex-FAAWAFU]

2 hours ago, iang said:

One thing I've just noticed in your flight-deck diagram is that you have the 2nd sub-flight (810 Squadron) ranged after the 1st sub-flight. This is incorrect - the 3rd sub-flight (with Keane's 5K in the centre) was ranged second, with the 2nd sub-flight led by Pattisson's 2A ranged third. The second wave, with the  4th sub-flight, led by Stewart-Moore's 4A was ranged fourth, followed by the rest of 820 Squadron of the 5th and 6th sub-flights and is correct in your drawing.

Thanks - that makes sense, since it keeps the 818 aircraft together (albeit mixing 820’s around a bit). 

 

I assume that each squadron would have a different section of the hangar(s) - that was certainly standard practice in later carriers, up to & including my era’s Ark.  This sort of multi-Squadron range would have been complex at the best of times, so you’d almost certainly want to bring the aircraft up from below Squadron by Squadron; trying to sort them into sub-flights etc once on deck must have been a really good game in that weather.

 

I only recently learned that Ark 3’s lifts were not a simple platform that went down all the way from flight deck level to the lower hangar, but instead a double-decker job.  So to get an aircraft up to the flight deck from the lower hangar you had to push it onto the lower level of the lift, raise the lift, push it off into the upper hangar, lower the lift again, and then repeat the performance using the upper level of the lift.  All this by hand, moving a Swordfish full of fuel and already armed with a ton of torpedo, in a heavy sea with the ship rocking & rolling.  The Chockheads seriously earned their money that day!

 

 

[As for seasickness, I too am lucky that I didn’t suffer from it (though I once - and only once! - went to sea unexpectedly with a raging hang-over.  Deeply unpleasant, and entirely self-inflicted...).  The worst weather I was ever in was probably a Force 12 in the Atlantic in Fearless in January 1982; we simply hove to and put our bows into sea for about 36 hours, making almost no way over the ground.  Fearless was not a small ship - bridge wing 71’ above the waterline, I recall from astro-navigation days! - but I vividly remember being in a trough between two colossal Atlantic waves and looking upwards at the crests.  Awesome power, which makes us humans feel pretty puny.

 

See also my avatar, which is probably no more than a Force 6]

Edited July 10, 2019 by Ex-FAAWAFU