The Bridge to Tomorrow Series includes several historical characters. One of these is a man too often forgotten.
On the day the Russians started the blockade of the Western Sectors of Berlin, a reporter asked the American Military Governor in Germany General Lucius D. Clay whether the city could be supplied entirely from the air. Clay replied: "Absolutely not." Yet the airlift was launched the next day with Clay's full support. His change of heart can be traced back to one man, a forgotten hero if there ever was one: Air Commodore Reginald Waite.
Waite's contribution to the Berlin Airlift was decisive. Prior to his intervention, the Allies were divided over whether to withdraw their garrisons from Berlin or try to fight their way down the autobahn. Waite's calculations showing that an airlift could sufficiently replenish Berlin's stockpiles of necessary goods to buy the Allies time to negotiate were decisive in creating consensus for the launch of an airlif -- yet there are history books about the Berlin Blockade that do not even mention his name. This is largely due to the fact that Waite was the consummate staff officer -- a thinker, a planner, a man in the background rather than a charismatic leader.
Nevertheless, Waite was said to "bubble with enthusiasm and imagination." Another observer claimed that "ideas were always flowing from him." The Daily Telegraph journalist Edwin Tetlow described watching Waite work, saying: "His head was bowed over a tiny pocket book, and he was making drawings and calculations with the stub of a pencil." [Source: Giles Milton, Checkmate in Berlin, Henry Holt, 2021, 255-256.] For a more comprehensive biography see: Forgotten Heroes of the Airlift: Air Commodore Waite
To do tribute to his contribution, I included Waite as a secondary character in the Bridge to Tomorrow trilogy. In fact, he features in the opening scene, immediately after the Prologue.
“Creative chaos!” Wing Commander Robert “Robin” Priestman snapped when he caught sight of the front page of the Times. “I concede that we need to be creative,” he remarked dryly, “but chaos can end in disaster!”
Air Commodore Reginald “Rex” Waite laughed. “There’s nothing wrong with a little chaos at the beginning of anything new, Robin.” Waite’s mild, intelligent face was garnished with a small moustache, and his greying hair was already receding. He was the British Air Attaché to the Allied Control Council (ACC). Although the ACC had always been cumbersome and never effective, since the Soviet Military Governor Marshal Sokolovsky had walked out on 20 March 1948, it was also brain dead. No more joint directives could be issued.
Despite that, the subordinate organs of the ACC — the various committees, directorates, departments, and centres for the implementation of policy — continued to function using the guidelines and directives established before the collapse of Four Power government. In consequence, the elegant and palatial former courthouse in the heart of Berlin that housed the ACC still hummed with activity. Since the start of the Airlift, no office was busier than the Berlin Air Safety Centre or BASC. Although air traffic control for take-offs and landings lay in the hands of the respective airfields, in a windowless room on the first floor of the ACC, representatives of all four occupying powers maintained an overview of approaching and departing air traffic.
Priestman as Station Commander at the only airfield in the British Sector, RAF Gatow, had come to speak with the Senior Flying Control Officer at the BASC before dropping by Waite’s office.
Waite picked up the newspaper left on his desk by an aide and scanned the article. He shook his head with bemusement and remarked as he handed it to Priestman, “I question the wisdom of allowing the press access to our facilities in these circumstances.”
Priestman snorted his agreement, his eyes still scanning the article.
Waite remarked, “The speech you gave to personnel yesterday evening was spot on, by the way. It was clever to compare this to war.”
“I wasn’t trying to be clever,” Priestman countered. “I feel that this is a kind of war — a war of nerves, intelligence and ingenuity.”
“And creativity,” Waite noted with a wink as he tapped the newspaper article, but then he grew serious. “It doesn’t help, however, that both Transport Command and British Air Forces of Occupation appointed officers with identical orders to take charge of the airlift. They sorted that out by giving BAFO control of the airfields but left Transport Command in command of the squadrons flying the Airlift. Overlapping responsibilities of that sort are a recipe for disaster. We can be sure the bureaucratic battle continues behind the scenes while we try to muddle through.”
“Muddling through is all very well, but how I am supposed to complete a concrete runway without any concrete or construction equipment!” Priestman couldn’t keep the exasperation out of his voice.
“I thought the Corps of Royal Engineers was helping out?”
“Indeed, Lt. Colonel Russel is doing his best, but he has neither crushers to pulverise the stone nor a steamroller large and strong enough to compress and level a surface fit for a fully loaded Dakota — never mind a York. Steamrollers don’t fit in the belly of any aircraft the RAF has.”
“Could the Americans manage it in one of their Globemasters?”
“I’ve already looked into that. The problem there is that Globemasters can’t land on PSP runways, and until I have a steamroller, I cannot build a concrete runway — and neither can the Americans.”
Waite nodded. “I understand. I’ll let you know if I think of anything useful. Was there anything else?”
“Gatow doesn’t just need a concrete runway, it needs taxiways, hardstandings, and lighting to enable it to work 24 hours a day, but my main concern at the moment is Air Traffic Control. We’re pouring aircraft down the three air corridors as fast as we can. They all end up in Berlin air space, milling about until someone downstairs,” (meaning the Berlin Air Safety Centre) “sends them to either Gatow or Tempelhof, depending on what comes free first. This means that USAF aircraft from Frankfurt sent to Gatow and RAF aircraft sent to Tempelhof are crossing paths haphazardly. It’s bad enough in clear weather, but in case you hadn’t noticed Berlin seems to be shrouded in cloud half the time. Sooner or later there is going to be a mid-air collision, and when that happens, we’re not only going to have body parts falling out of the sky, we’re also going to have dead civilians on the ground. And did I mention the weather report is for pouring rain tomorrow?”
Waite nodded seriously. “You’re right, Robin. ATC is an accident waiting to happen and the Sunderlands coming in on Monday won’t make it any easier. Did you have any thoughts as to what we could do to make it better?”
“It’s not my area of expertise, but I would have thought more regulated traffic flow would help. I tried to raise the topic with Group Captain Bagshot, but he told me to stop interfering in his Airlift.”
“Hm.” Waite nodded and conceded, “Bagshot can be a bit wet. I’m not sure BAFO made a wise choice in appointing him to overall command.” While said sympathetically, both officers knew that there was nothing either of them could do to change the appointment.
“The Senior Flying Control Officer suggested that I go to a fully ground-controlled approach at Gatow,” Priestman continued, “— regardless of weather.”
“Could you?” Waite asked.
Priestman drew a deep breath. “Pilots hate GCA.”
That did not answer the question, so Waite waited while the station commander subdued the pilot within and admitted, “If I had enough controllers, yes. Visibility is too poor too often, and too many pilots are being thrown onto this airlift without familiarity with either corridors or conditions in Berlin. The Senior FCO told me that continuous use of a GCA approach at Gatow would enable the BASC to hand Gatow-bound aircraft over sooner and focus on Tempelhof.”
“Sounds good to me.”
“I’m going to give it a try, but….” His voice faded, and Waite looked over alertly. Priestman met his eyes. “Off the record, Rex. Do you still think we can do this?”
“Keep a city of two million people supplied entirely by air?”
Priestman nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on Waite.
“Let me put it this way. His Majesty’s Government has committed itself without reservation and the RAF has a blank cheque for whatever it needs to get the job done. In just over one week, we will have deployed every transport aircraft we have, but unless the United States is willing to make an equal commitment and deploy their entire cargo fleet as well, no. We cannot win this war alone any more than we did the last one."
Waite is a character in all Three books of the "Bridge to Tomorrow" Trilogy
Berlin is under siege. More than two million civilians must be supplied by air -- or surrender to Stalin's oppression.
USAF Captain J.B. Baronowsky and RAF Flight
Lieutenant Kit Moran once risked their lives to drop high explosives on Berlin.
They are about to deliver milk, flour and children’s shoes instead. Meanwhile,
two women pilots are flying an air ambulance that carries malnourished and
abandoned children to freedom in the West. Until General Winter deploys on the
side of Russia. Buy now!
Based on historical events, award-winning and best-selling novelist Helena P. Schrader delivers an insightful, exciting and moving tale about how former enemies became friends in the face of Russian aggression — and how close the Berlin Airlift came to failing.
Winning a war with milk, coal and candy!
No comments:
Post a Comment