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Air Ministry, 1st September, 1944.
The King has been graciously pleased to confer the Victoria Cross on the undermentioned officer in recognition of most conspicuous bravery: —
Flying Officer John Alexander Cruickshank (126700), Royal Air Force Volunteer Reserve. No. 210 Squadron.
This officer was the captain and pilot of a Catalina flying boat which was recently engaged on an anti-submarine patrol over northern waters. When a U-boat was sighted on the surface, Flying Officer Cruickshank at once turned to the attack. In the face of fierce anti-aircraft fire he manoeuvred into position and ran in to release his depth charges. Unfortunately they failed to drop.
Flying Officer Cruickshank knew that the failure of this attack had deprived him of the advantage of surprise and that his aircraft offered a good target to the enemy's determined and now heartened gunners.
Without hesitation, he climbed and turned to come in again. The Catalina was met by intense and accurate fire and was repeatedly hit. The navigator/bomb aimer was killed. The second pilot and two other members of the crew were injured. Flying Officer Cruickshank was struck in seventy-two places, receiving two serious wounds in the lungs and ten penetrating wounds in the lower limbs. His aircraft was badly damaged and filled with the fumes of exploding shells. But he did not falter. He pressed home his attack, and released the depth charges himself, straddling the submarine perfectly. The U-boat was sunk.
He then collapsed and the second pilot took over the controls. He recovered shortly afterwards and, though bleeding profusely, insisted on resuming command and retaining it until he was satisfied that the damaged aircraft was under control, that a course had been set for base and that all the necessary signals had been sent. Only then would he consent to receive medical aid and have his wounds attended to. He refused morphia in case it might prevent him from carrying on.
During the next five and a half hours of the return flight he several times lapsed into unconsciousness owing to loss of blood. When he came to his first thought on each occasion was for the safety of his aircraft and crew. The damaged aircraft eventually reached base but it was clear that an immediate landing would be a hazardous task for the wounded and less experienced second pilot. Although able to breathe only with the greatest difficulty, Flying Officer Cruickshank insisted on being carried forward and propped up in the second pilot's seat. For a full hour, in spite of his agony and ever-increasing weakness, he gave orders as necessary, refusing to allow the aircraft to be brought down until the conditions of light and sea made this possible without undue risk.
With his assistance the aircraft was safely landed on the water. He then directed the taxying and beaching of the aircraft so that it could easily be salvaged. When the medical officer went on board, Flying Officer Cruickshank collapsed and he had to be given a blood transfusion before he could be removed to hospital.
By pressing home the second attack in his gravely wounded condition and continuing his exertions on the return journey with his strength failing all the time, he seriously prejudiced his chance of survival even if the aircraft safely reached its base. Throughout, he set an example of determination, fortitude and devotion to duty in keeping with the highest traditions of the Service.
The last two Coastwatchers died last week.
Jim Burrows (Army) at 101, and
Ron Dixie Lee (Navy) at 100.
They were both radio operators without whom there would have been no point in being there.
In spite of a couple of close run things they both survived and went on to lead successful lives.
Posted by Irish Ranger (Sevvy) @VeteranIrish on X:
Quote:
Right Sergeant Major, I’m ready to inspect the 100 new National Service recruits for the 1st North London Woke Regiment (Rishi’s Own)â€
“Well Sir, we have a slight problem, only 1 recruit was picked up from the stationâ€
“What…one?â€
“Yes Sir, one, we have had a few problems with the other 99.
50 have PTSD certification from excessive, extended, frequent exposure to stress due to
A. Failure of the wi-fi on the train/bus/home/office/Starbucks destroying their constant connection to Tik-Tok/Facebook/Snapchat/X/Jeremy Vine C5 You Tube channel….
B. Having to fill in a form….
C. Style/size/ issues with camouflage clothing.
25 have ADHD due to parenting issues relating to cessation of ‘Chest feeding’ at age 16.
10 had overweight issues relating to the large amount of body piercings.
10 were unable to issued with an I.D as facial hair, both nasal and ear prevented any positive identification.
1 was allergic to cotton, nylon, mohair, cashmere, silk and so they/he/him/her could not be issued with regulation underwear.
1 cited extensive food allergies which effectively rendered the mess food a danger to they etc…
1 identified as an earthworm and so could not carry arms.
1 chose to identify as a range target and feared exposure to danger even if they/he/him/her were not pasted…….
so that left the one recruit you have standing here…….
no identification I’m afraid, it appears he lost it on the trip over from France………
but appears to be familiar with an AK47 for some strange reason?
Mike Sadler, who has died aged 103, won both the military medal and the military cross as an honorary “founding member†of the wartime SAS before going on to a long career in the British secret intelligence service MI6. He was the last original member of the SAS, whose exploits were dramatised in the BBC series SAS: Rogue Heroes (2022), based on the 2016 book of the same name by Ben Macintyre.
When the second world war broke out, Sadler was working on a tobacco farm in what was then Southern Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe). He joined the Rhodesian army and was promoted rapidly to sergeant, but established an early willingness to question the wisdom of his officers’ orders.
When his commanding officer threatened to strip him of his rank if he did not apologise to an officer with whom he had disagreed, he told him in no uncertain terms that he would reduce himself to the ranks.
As a result, he was highly receptive to an invitation in a Cairo bar to join the recently formed Long Range Desert Group (LRDG), which had been set up by the British in 1940 to mount behind-the-lines attacks on German and Italian forces on the Libyan-Egyptian frontier.
During the long journey from the Egyptian capital to the LRDG’s base at Kufra, in south-east Libya, Sadler became fascinated by the group’s use of stars and the position of the sun to navigate their way across more than 700 miles of largely featureless desert.
“It was a voyage of discovery because the maps, except in the very coastal regions, had nothing much on them except longitude and latitude lines and the odd dotted line marking a camel track or something,†he said. “It was entirely like being at sea.†As a result, when they arrived at Kufra, he was offered the role of unit navigator. “The idea of navigating by the stars was so fascinating I couldn’t resist.â€
Sadler’s involvement with the newly formed SAS began some months later, in the immediate aftermath of its disastrous first mission. The regiment had tried to parachute into the desert in the dark during a fierce storm, and 34 of the 55 men taking part were killed or captured.
David Stirling, who had founded the SAS, needed to mount another operation quickly or see the unit disbanded, and asked the LRDG to ferry them on the next mission, in December 1941. Sadler was attached as navigator to the mission commander Blair “Paddy†Mayne, an Irish rugby international with a similar lack of respect for poor decision-making, and they got on well.
The raid, on an airfield at Wadi Tamet, on the Libyan coast west of Sirte, destroyed 24 aircraft, blew up a number of fuel dumps and killed or wounded around 30 Italian and Germans, ensuring the SAS survived.
During another raid on a German airfield at Sidi Haneish, 235 miles west of Cairo, in July 1942, Sadler, now officially transferred to the SAS, navigated 18 jeeps across the desert without headlights or maps. Storming across the airfield firing tracer bullets from their machine-guns, the men destroyed an estimated 37 aircraft.
Sadler was told to wait at the edge of the airfield and make sure everyone got out. “So I only got away from the airfield at dawn, after the raid, and found myself driving through a German column that had set out into the desert to look for us,†he recalled. “I drove through the column from the back and nobody noticed. I don’t think they expected anyone to be behind. They’d stopped to have a cup of tea on the roadside, and I drove on and out.†As a non-commissioned officer, Sadler was awarded the military medal for his bravery.
