The Swordfish heroes of ‘Operation Fuller’

Welcome to this latest edition of our Workbench blog and all the news, updates and modelling exclusives from the fascinating world of Airfix.

For this latest edition of Workbench, we are going to be giving our product designers a break from new tooling development interview features, so we can concentrate on the details behind an impending existing tooling release, but one which will help to commemorate one of the most farcical, yet devastatingly heroic actions of the Second World War. As darkness fell on the evening of 11th February 1942, two German capital warships, a Hipper-Class heavy cruiser and their escorts slipped from the heavily fortified harbour at Brest in Brittany and headed for the English Channel, in an audacious, some might say suicidal attempt to escape the nightly attentions of the Royal Air Force. Awaiting them were British forces which had been anticipating the move and spent the previous weeks establishing a cohesive attack plan to make sure the enemy ships did not reach their intended destinations. With the RAF, Royal Navy and shore batteries all primed and ready, surely the German plan would end in disaster and three significant naval threats would soon be lying at the bottom of the English Channel.

Whilst marking the impending 80th anniversary of the ‘Channel Dash’, we will be looking in a little more detail at the six Fleet Air Arm Fairey Swordfish crews who bravely attacked the German ships in terrible conditions and with little fighter cover for protection, but how despite facing withering defensive fire and the attentions of the Luftwaffe, they headed into the teeth of this onslaught, to selflessly press home their attacks. Edition No.175 of Workbench will focus on ‘Operation Cerberus/Fuller’ almost exactly eighty years to the day since these incredible actions took place.

The Brest dock complex - Haven of the Atlantic raiders

An awesome sight. With Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen all at dock in Brest in Brittany, is it any wonder they attracted the constant attentions of the Royal Air Force?  Image credit Bundesarchiv, DVM 10 Bild-23-63-07 / CC-BY-SA 3.0

Arguably, the most crucial battle Britain had to win during the Second World War was the Battle of the Atlantic, the longest continuous military campaign of WWII. As an island nation, Britain was dependant on a constant supply of goods and materials by sea, mainly from North America and not just the materials for war - in Britain, everyday life depended on the delivery of food and commodities. The Germans were only too aware of this situation and to military planners, perhaps the most effective way of knocking Britain and her Commonwealth out of the war was to starve their population into demanding their government sue for peace. The scene was set for carnage on the high seas and a constant battle for Atlantic naval supremacy.

Prior to the start of the war, Germany had embarked on a massive naval expansion in contravention of the Treaty of Versailles, producing some of the world’s most capable surface warships, with the intention of challenging Britain’s dominance of the world’s sea lanes. Indeed, their ambitious ‘Plan Z’ intended to attain naval parity with Britain by 1944, however, the war would quickly negate these plans and new capital ships were shelved in favour of establishing a mighty U-Boat force. The powerful surface ships already produced and the ever growing number of U-boats in service made the Atlantic a treacherous place for any Allied ship to be and the British knew that these vessels had to be neutralized at any cost, whilst they were at sea, or whilst in port for damage repair or replenishment.

After successfully harassing Atlantic shipping for many weeks, the German battleships Scharnhorst and Gneisenau headed for the port of Brest to undergo essential repairs and refit, soon to be joined by a third impressive ship, the heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen. Whilst this situation gave British shipping some respite during their Atlantic crossings, it also produced a unique opportunity for them to destroy the ships before they could head out to do more damage, an opportunity which had to be taken. For the Germans, the situation was serious. Whilst at Brest, the ships were not exactly sitting targets, but they were at serious risk and with the destruction of Bismarck in late May 1941, all capital ships on Atlantic duties were at that time, out of action.

Classic Airfix Beaufort box artwork which drew inspiration from Kenneth Campbell’s expert torpedo attack against Gneisenau on 6th April 1941.

With Brest now a huge strategic target for the Royal Air Force, the area was subjected to incessant attacks from RAF bombers and smaller torpedo aircraft, however, even though the ships made for rather conspicuous targets, hitting them was proving to be quite a challenge. Despite the fact that at least 1000 Bomber Command sorties were mounted against the naval raiders, a combination of poor weather, the attentions of dedicated fighter units in the area, heavy defensive firepower and the general inaccuracy of high altitude bombing at that time dictated that the ships remained relatively undamaged by all the aerial attention they were receiving.

One interesting story regarding the general situation around the port area of Brest at that time concerns Gneisenau. In advance of some structural works required on the hull of the vessel, workers pumped out the dry dock where she was moored, only to find an unexploded RAF 1,000lb bomb sitting right underneath the ship. Carefully, they refilled the dock and floated out the battleship, so they could then attempt to defuse the bomb without risking damage to Gneisenau, however, whilst she was temporarily moored near a breakwater in the inner harbour, she was attacked by the Bristol Beaufort of Kenneth Campbell (VC) and his crew, with their torpedo striking the ship below the waterline and inflicting significant damage. When she returned to the now bomb free dry dock, she would be in need of even more repairs, keeping her in port and vulnerable, as opposed to in the Atlantic sinking Allied shipping.

Operation Cerberus - Hitler’s incredible Channel gamble

The heavy cruiser Prinz Eugen would not only manage to survive the daring Channel Dash operation, but would make it through the entire war, only to become a war prize for the victorious American forces. She would be used as part of their atomic programme, finally slipping beneath the waves in December 1946. 

With Bomber Command now taking delivery of their new four engined heavy bombers and a spy network which was giving the British almost daily updates on the battleship situation at Brest, the Germans knew that it was only a matter of time until their valuable ships suffered further damage, keeping them confined to port. Something drastic had to be done. Hitler was convinced that the Allies were planning an invasion of Norway in an attempt to halt his supply of war materials from the region and he desperately wanted his ships back to counter such a threat. Gathering his military officials, he instructed them to organise a plan to sail Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen back through the English Channel and to German ports, where they could be prepared for operations in the North Sea, right under the noses of the British. Surely this would be an almost suicidal mission and one which would give the British an unbelievable opportunity to bring all their resources to bear and score a decisive victory. Nevertheless, plans were drawn up and the ships prepared to sail.

The success of the operation would depend on many factors and a huge slice of good fortune. The ships would be passing within the range of British shore batteries and squadrons of fast attack craft, not to mention the destroyers which were just waiting for a chance to get at these huge targets. In addition to this, the airmen of the RAF and Fleet Air Arm had been training for just such an opportunity, with British attack plans being just as robust as the ones being finalised by the Germans. 

On the German side, everything was being arranged under the strictest levels of security and not even the ships crews knew anything about the intended operation, only that they must prepare their ships for sea. In support of the plan, U-Boats, destroyers and fast attack craft were all allocated to the operation, whilst minesweepers began clearing the intended route. The Luftwaffe would be required to provide a heavy fighter presence during the ‘Dash’, with bombers targeting southern RAF stations in advance of the operation, in addition to electronic countermeasures aircraft also attempting to disrupt British radar. Crucially, ‘Operation Cerberus’ would only take place during a period of poor weather, in an attempt to further hamper British efforts to intercept the naval force.

In Brest, aware that information was being fed back to Britain on a regular basis, the subterfuge was further enhanced by issuing tropical helmets to naval personnel and marking ship-bound supplies with descriptions indicating storage instructions for warmer climates. They knew they couldn’t hide the fact that the warships were being prepared for sea, however, they wanted the British to think they were heading south and not forewarn them of a lively cruise up the English Channel.

Knowing that something was about to happen imminently, the British had been making detailed plans of their own and had prepared a hostile reception for any German warship foolish enough to make a futile dash for Germany’s North Sea ports, through the English Channel. Squadrons of attack aircraft had been moved to forward operating airfields near the coast and bomber squadrons were placed on short readiness should reports of German activity start to arrive. They were determined that any opportunity which presented itself was to be taken in full, allowing aircraft currently engaged in targeting the ships in port at Brest to be reallocated for other essential strike duties. Surely nothing could go wrong now - the trap had been set, all they had to do was wait and strike!

Despite looking like an aircraft from a previous era of flight, the Fairey Swordfish proved to be the aerial nemesis of Axis shipping, an incredibly stable delivery platform for her main torpedo armament.

As darkness fell over the port complex at Brest on 11th February 1942, the three mighty warships came under steam and Operation Cerberus was on. Heading out of port later than planned, the ships and their fleet of support craft would now be passing through the narrowest stretch of the English Channel during daylight hours and although their mighty flotilla must have made for an awe-inspiring sight, they must have been fearful of the terrible onslaught they were undoubtedly about to face. Unbeknown to them, things had already started to go wrong for their British opposition. 

With standing aircraft patrols flying almost constantly over the Brest harbour complex, the Royal Navy had also sent the submarine HMS Sealion to patrol outside the harbour entrance, reporting any movement and potentially to launch an attack herself. Witnessing a heavy RAF bombing raid on the evening of 11th February and no naval movements, she headed out to sea to recharge her batteries, just before the real action started to take place. With poor weather and heavy cloud cover obscuring the port from above, patrol aircraft were either slightly off course or did not have a clear view below, so as units returned to base, Hitler’s Channel gamble was already well underway and there was no going back now. Crucially, British forces were still blissfully unaware.

The Germans could hardly believe their good fortune. They had made it to the narrowest section of the English Channel without being challenged at all by the enemy and although British shore batteries were now firing on them, even their efforts were being hampered by the extremely poor visibility. In fact, the British plans were in total disarray, with planned ‘trip wire’ patrols failing to spot the German vessels, and due to a combination of poor weather and malfunctioning navigational equipment, spotter aircraft simply were not where they were supposed to be. Even when patrolling Spitfires did spot the ships, they didn’t report the sighting until they returned to base, preferring to tangle with the unusually high number of German aircraft which appeared to be operating in the area.

Once the alarm had been raised, it was almost too late to rescue the dire situation. RAF Bombers had been loaded with the wrong type of bombs to deal with this new situation and by the time they did get into the air, the weather had closed in again and the Luftwaffe were waiting - their bombing attacks were ineffective. A number of Royal Navy destroyers did manage to get close to the German ships, however, opposition destroyers and S-Boats drove them off before they could inflict any damage on the capital ships. It was left to eighteen brave airmen of the Fleet Air Arm to write the final heroic, yet ultimately futile chapter in the respective war diaries of the combatants on that fateful day and one which proved to be a costly one for British forces.

The Swordfish of ‘Operation Fuller’

This stunning box artwork has been produced in support of this latest 1/72nd scale Fairey Swordfish release, one which commemorates the 80th Anniversary of the Channel Dash and the heroic actions of the eighteen men of No.825 Squadron Fleet Air Arm during the early afternoon of 12th February 1942.

Aware that the German’s may attempt to smuggle their remaining Atlantic surface raiders from their base at Brest to home ports on the German North Sea coast, Britain established ‘Operation Fuller’ to counter the threat and initiated a cohesive plan to effectively detect any such move and to make sure none of the ships made it through the English Channel intact. With their forces increasingly growing in confidence and the Germans forced to consider such a desperate, some might say futile action, there would surely be only one outcome should such an attempt be made. Unfortunately, bad luck, bad weather and a series of missed opportunities meant that Hitler’s audacious gamble paid off and the British were left to the recriminations of what proved to be nothing short of an operational disaster.

Irishman Eugene Esmonde was commissioned as a pilot officer in the Royal Air Force in December 1928 and initially posted to the Fleet Air Arm and service in the Mediterranean. On the completion of his commission five years later, he left the force to take up a position with Imperial Airways, flying mail routes across the world, including time at the controls of their huge flying boats, however, in May 1939, he was on the move again, this time having accepted a position as a Lieutenant Commander in the Fleet Air Arm. He would go on to survive the 1939 German attack on HMS Courageous in the Western Approaches and later lead a flight of nine Swordfish torpedo attack aircraft against the German capital ship Bismarck, taking off from the carrier HMS Victorious. Flying into the face of heavy enemy fire, he managed to score a torpedo hit on the mighty German battleship, heroic actions for which he would be awarded the Distinguished Service Order.

Later transferred to HMS Ark Royal, he would serve aboard this vessel until she was torpedoes off the coast of Gibraltar in November 1941, having the distinction of being one of the last people to leave the ship before it finally slipped under the waves. By the end of that same month, Esmonde was back in Britain and at the shore based station at Lee-on-Solent, where his unit had re-formed to again fly the Fairey Swordfish.

Fairey Swordfish Mk.I W5984/H, flown by Lt. Commander Eugene Esmonde VC, DSO, ‘Operation Fuller’ (The Channel Dash), No.825 Naval Air Squadron, Royal Navy, Manston Airfield, 11th February 1942, prior to the Channel attack.

Fairey Swordfish Mk.I W5984/H was built by Blackburn Aircraft Limited at their Sherburn-in-Elmet plant and delivered to No.825 Naval Air Squadron at Lee-on-Solent on 1st January 1942. This unit had been training to launch a night attack against German battleships attempting to pass through the English Channel, as part of ‘Operation Fuller’ and to this end, six Swordfish were detached to RAF Manston on 4th February 1942. Like other units assigned to the operation, crews were placed on five minutes standby, in anticipation that when the ships were reported as being under steam, all RAF and naval assets would be sent into the attack. Incredibly, on 11th February (the very evening the German flotilla set out for the Channel), they and many other units were stood down and on the same day, the unit’s Commander, Eugene Esmonde, attended Buckingham Palace to receive his DSO from the King, for his heroic actions against the battleship Bismarck.

By noon the following day, reports started to come through informing units that the German ships were already passing through the Channel and planners knew that had been caught seriously ill-prepared. The operational commander realised that he had to act immediately, but the only offensive assets he had at his disposal were the six Fleet Air Arm Swordfish torpedo attack aircraft waiting at a snow covered Manston airfield. As they had trained for a night attack, he knew there was little chance of these biplane aircraft succeeding in successfully attacking the mighty armada in broad daylight alone, especially as the skies would be full of Luftwaffe fighters. He pleaded with his superiors not to send the Swordfish, but the ships had to be challenged and the order to take off was given.

Full kit scheme details for the Swordfish flown by Lt. Commander Eugene Esmonde and his crew during their valiant Channel Dash attack in the early afternoon of 12th February 1942.

Taking his place in the lead aircraft, Esmonde had been promised the protection of at least three squadrons of RAF fighters, but as his flight held at the rendezvous point over Ramsgate, a force of just ten Spitfires arrived. With the ships now moving quickly through the Channel, Esmonde turned his aircraft towards the enemy and prepared to attack. Almost immediately, the Spitfires were set upon by Luftwaffe fighters, with the heavy force also targeting the Swordfish, inflicting damage before they could even start their attack run. Now over the sea, the aircraft flew erratically and close to the water in an attempt to evade their attackers, with their slow speed and expert airmanship being their most effective form of defence.

Just before 13.00 hours, the biplanes saw the imposing sight of the German naval formation ahead of them, with swarms of Luftwaffe fighters around them for protection. Immediately, the first three Swordfish led by Esmonde launched their attack runs, weaving violently in an attempt to evade the attentions of German fighters and the fearsome defensive fire being hurled in their direction by the mighty armada facing them. The Luftwaffe fighter defence was relentless and it was even reported that several enemy fighters lowered their flaps and dropped their undercarriage in an attempt to match the speed of the slow flying biplanes, before hammering them with cannon and machine gun fire.

Facing such a withering onslaught, the Swordfish stood little chance. The aircraft flown by Esmonde, W5984/H was the first to hit the water, already flaming from being attacked by fighters, it is thought that a shell from one of Prinz Eugen’s main guns sliced the lower port wing off the Swordfish. The pilot defiantly released his torpedo seconds before the aircraft hit the water, but to no avail and over the course of the next frantic few minutes, all six of the biplanes were shot down, with thirteen of the eighteen crew members on board, including Eugene Esmonde, paying the ultimate price for their devotion to duty. Incredibly, these actions all took place within twenty minutes of the Swordfish taking off from their temporary forward base at RAF Manston.

Only days after presenting Eugene Esmonde with his Distinguished Service Order, the nation’s monarch was granting the same man a Victoria Cross, for displaying incredible valour in the presence of the enemy. Tragically, he would not be in a position to accept this latest award in person. 

One German war diary entry for the 12th February 1942 reported how ‘The attack by a handful of ancient aircraft piloted by men whose bravery surpassed any action by either side that day’ illustrates the regard in which the enemy held the men of No.825 Naval Air Squadron during the attack, but only serves to underline the terrible cost and futility of war.

Some written reports suggested that the six Swordfish of No.825 NAS assigned to ‘Operation Fuller’ were given a hastily applied coat of black paint in the days leading up to the actions against the German ships and we decided to include this option with this latest release. We have left it to the modeller’s discretion as to which scheme they feel is the most appealing/accurate. 

Ultimately, Scharnhorst, Gneisenau and Prinz Eugen made it back to Germany, even though two of the ships did hit mines during their famous dash and would require immediate repair before they could be sent out to sea once more. In Germany, the audacious operation was hailed a spectacular success, although it has to be said that the force definitely had the weather and unbelievably good fortune on their side. In contrast to this, the British saw the Channel Dash as an operational fiasco, something of a national embarrassment and one which saw the recriminations start in the immediate aftermath. Despite the incredible bravery displayed by the men of No.825 NAS, meticulous planning and the allocation of significant resource all counted for nothing and had it not been for the RAF re-mining the Channel in the days prior to this operation, the German ships would have escaped completely unscathed.

British losses totalled 42 aircraft, including the six Swordfish, and one Destroyer put out of action, with 250 servicemen either killed or wounded. On the German side, the Luftwaffe lost 20 aircraft and the Kriegsmarine damage to two S-Boats, with 24 men either killed or wounded.  What should have been a crushing defeat for the Germans proved to be a huge propaganda triumph, nevertheless, the tide of war was already turning and there would be many more important battles for the Allies to win over the course of the coming three years. 

From a modelling perspective, it is interesting to note that even though there does not appear to be any surviving photographic evidence in support, it was reported that Esmonde’s Swordfish and indeed all six of the Operation Fuller biplanes received a hurriedly applied coat of black paint over their existing camouflage, which would have been a clear attempt to aid camouflage during their anticipated night attack against the German ships. We have left it to the discretion of the individual modeller as to which finish they would like to give their model, but either way, this kit will make a fitting scale tribute to these incredible wartime actions.

Fairey Swordfish Mk.I K8386/945, No.824 Naval Air Squadron, Fleet Air Arm, HMS Eagle & Royal Air Force Station Kai Tak, Hong Kong, China Station, May - November 1937.

First taking to the air in 1934, the venerable Fairey Swordfish may have the appearance of an aircraft which should not really have seen service during WWII, but it would go on to serve through the entirety of the conflict, proving to be a critical component in Britain’s naval strike capabilities. Interestingly, the Swordfish was originally referred to by its internal designation, T.S.R.1 (Torpedo, Spotter, Reconnaissance 1), which were the roles for which the new aircraft was intended. When a second, slightly improved aircraft was subsequently constructed, this received the designation T.S.R.2, something which would turn out to be quite a famous acronym with regard to another famous post war British aviation design.

Belying the slightly ungainly appearance of the Fairey Swordfish, it would prove to be an exceptionally robust and adaptable aircraft, earning a reputation as one of the most famous naval aircraft of the Second World War. It’s nickname ‘Stringbag’ is thought to be both a reference to the obsolete appearance of the aircraft and the fact that its docile handling characteristics would allow it to be flown in almost any conditions. In addition to this, it appeared that no matter what size or shape of offensive ordnance the aircraft was required to carry, the Swordfish just accepted the challenge and got on with the task at hand. Proving crucial to Britain’s war effort during WWII, most of the 2,400 Swordfish built were actually constructed by Blackburn Aircraft Limited at their Sherburn-in-Elmet facility in North Yorkshire, with the final aircraft delivered as late as 18th August 1944 - not bad for a biplane with a top speed of just 140 mph.

In the hands of an experienced crew, the Swordfish could be devastatingly effective against enemy shipping and submarines, using its slow speed and manoeuvrability to ensure a successful attack. For the inexperienced pilot, the Swordfish proved rather forgiving, with its low take-off and landing speeds helping to make this notoriously dangerous phase of flight much less challenging for them. An extremely rugged aeroplane, the Swordfish excelled in the often harsh environments in which it was required to operate, however, when pressing home their attacks, crews would often be forced to endure a hail of fire from their target warship, or when under attack from an enemy fighter aircraft. There is no doubting that these famous old biplanes were flown by a special breed of airmen, heroes to a man.
 

Wearing its attractive pre-war markings, this beautiful Swordfish scheme option will be difficult to overlook, even though the lead scheme possesses so much historical significance.
 
Swordfish K8386 was a Fairey build machine, part of a large second production batch of 104 aircraft placed during 1935. She was delivered to the Fleet Air Arm at Gosport on 30th November 1936, serving with No.824 Squadron from January 1937 to December 1939. She is finished here in the standard scheme of the day, with the main fuselage fabric painted in aluminium and metal engine panels finished in Cerrux grey - the scheme was finished off with bright pre-war roundels.

When the Swordfish entered Fleet Air Arm service, the Royal Navy were operating the Aircraft Carrier Identification Band System, which in this case comprised an angled black band on the rear fuselage, marking this as an HMS Eagle aircraft. The centre section of the top mainplane was also painted black, as was the fin, a feature which possibly identified this as the Squadron Commander’s aircraft.

When not embarked aboard HMS Eagle, this Swordfish is known to have spent time at Royal Air Force Station Kai Tak, Hong Kong and was the subject of some very clear official photographs during this period - these images prove that at least nine Swordfish aircraft were based at this famous airfield at that time. The airfield at Kai Tak has to be considered one of the most famous aviation locations in the world, probably more so for its post war civilian operations than for its use during WWII. First opened in 1927, the main function of the airfield was to serve as a seaplane base, underlining its position next to Kowloon Bay. Initially equipped with a rather basic grass strip, a concrete runway was added in 1939 and during the wartime years, several extensions were added, with the Japanese adding a second runway, during their time of occupation. Surrounded by mountains and the sea, Kai Tak had a reputation for being a notoriously difficult airport to operate from, however, with the forgiving handling characteristics of the Fairey Swordfish, surely a posting to Hong Kong in the pre-war years was something of a dream come true.

Keep an eye out for this distinctive box presentation in your local model shop, as this kit is just about to be release and will be an incredibly popular addition to the range.

This relatively new Swordfish tooling was first released in 2012, but significantly, was last re-issued back in 2017, so its return to the range is possibly a little overdue. Now scheduled for imminent release, this beautifully detailed kit features the two classic scheme options detailed above, both of which would make for fascinating build projects. Do you go for one of the two variations of Eugene Esmonde’s Channel Dash aircraft which fought so valiantly in the face of overwhelming odds, or should you choose the machine featuring the flamboyant finish of a pre war Fleet Air Arm Swordfish? Whichever one appeals to you, this is a cracking little kit and one which is sure to find favour with many Workbench readers.

That’s all we have for you in this latest edition of Workbench, but we will be back as usual next Friday with more modelling news, updates and exclusive imagery from the fascinating world of Airfix. If you have any comments in connection with the blog, or would like to suggest a subject you would like to see covered in a future edition, please do drop us a quick line using our workbench@airfix.com e-mail address. The Workbench team would be only too pleased to hear from you.

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The Airfix Workbench Team