Why an Aviator Wingwalked During a Dogfight

It's the 26th of April, 1944, and in dark skies over France 21-year-old flight officer Fred "Miff" Mifflin is at the controls of his Lancaster bomber. He is in one of over 200 bombers in the air tonight to take out critical targets in Germany and German radar knows they're coming. A specially adapted BF 110 with guns that point up eases under an unsuspecting Lancaster and fires.

Inside of the cockpit of Mifflin's bird the crew see a flash to the left and the unmistakable form of a Lancaster on fire lights up the night sky. The seven-man crew look on in horror as one of their own goes down. Many of the Lancasters are lost this same way this evening.

Approaching the target, Miff gets on the intercom and tells everyone to get ready. "Get ready men. Coming close.

. . " Behind Miff sits flight engineer Norman Jackson.

Jackson has to jump up and fold the seat over as the bomb aimer scrambles forward and gets into position. The Lancaster is rocked and the darkness is illuminated by flak as they get closer to the German factories. The plane lurches and a cry comes over the intercom.

"We're hit! " Flak has erupted nearby and has damaged the wing of the Lancaster, but Miff is a calming voice. "Don't worry boys, I've still got her under control".

"60 seconds. " Flares on the ground dropped by pathfinders illuminate the target. "There's the spot bomb aimer, the plane is yours.

" The bomb aimer peers through the sight and as it slowly drifts over the flares that have been dropped earlier the bomb aimer hits the release. "Bombs away! " They release the ordnance over the factory.

Plumes of fire erupt as the bombs hit the ground. Miff takes back control of the plane and turns for home. Alone in the darkness is what they're all praying for.

At higher altitudes now the German radars pick up the large British planes with ease and on this night they're directing a squadron of night terrors. The FW-190s, also known as Butcher Birds, and these ones are specially adapted for hunting at night. Upon receiving instruction from the ground an FW-190 pilot quickly spots the lumbering British plane in the moonlight.

It's the perfect night for a hunt. The Lancaster has radar but it's slung underneath the plane. From up high the FW-190 is almost invisible.

Inside the night fighter the German pilot eases the nose forward and in the clear moonlight he sees a distant form of the Lancaster drift into his sights. "I have you now". His finger hangs over the release as he moves within 50 meters and presses the trigger and lets loose with all he has.

Cannons and machine guns chatter and pound and he sees tracers snake out towards the tail of the bomber. "I'm hit". The German 20-millimeter shells have plowed through the tail and tail gunner Norman Johnson is now badly injured.

"There is another. " The turrets of the Lancaster erupt in return, but the German pilot disengages, pulls up and disappears into the gloom. "Keep them peeled, boys!

He's out there somewhere". The 190 reappears from five o'clock level position and then fires a burst along the entirety of the bomber's length, punching through the fuselage and hitting the right wing. Without a tail gunner Miff knows he’s got to work hard if the crew are going to get out of this one.

"Hold on, men! " He pushes a massive bomber into a dive and a turn, performing a corkscrew maneuver through the air in an attempt to throw off the 190. Mifflin is a great pilot, but the 190 is an incredible piece of machinery and against the Lancaster it can easily keep up with its superior agility and speed.

The 190 follows firing all across the aircraft. A shell strikes right next to the cockpit and pieces of shrapnel pepper Norman Jackson's legs. He winces with pain, but as he does so he sees the cockpit illuminated as fire bursts out of the holes in the wing right next to the engine.

"We're on fire! " The remaining turret fires with all he has at the 190, but then the enemy pilot disengages once again and disappears into the dark. "Bandit's gone!

" "Not for long". "Check on Johnson" Jackson watches the fire expand gushing out of the many cannon strikes across the wing. If it burns for too long it will snap the wing in half or cause the fuel tank to explode, but, despite his injuries, he has a crazy idea.

"Toft, Higgins - come over. " Ignoring his leg wound Jackson calls for the crew and tells them his bold plan. "I can go out there".

"Where? " He plans to get out of the aircraft, crawl along outside of the wing and put out the fire. But they just need to hold on to him by his parachute, he says.

The men are stunned, but Jackson's dead serious. "That's certain death". Jackson considers his position.

He calmly prepares as he explains: "I may be able to put the fire out. " "If I do you should be able to drag me back in and if I don't and I get blown over the wing then just feed the parachute out best you can". "What do you think, Miff?

" Mifflin is completely shocked. But Jackson is already shrugging off his injuries and unfurling his parachute. Without time to think it over the bomb aimer and navigator take hold of the parachute lines and Jackson steps up to the hatch.

"Ready? " "Ready". The hatch is removed and cold wind immediately blasts the men.

The deafening whoosh is filling the bomber. Mifflin takes the speed down as much as he dare, but they're still going 180 miles an hour at 18,000 feet. Undeterred, Jackson slides himself out into the freezing stream of wind.

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New players will receive a huge starter pack, including American and German Tier III Premium ships, 7 days of Premium Account, 5 common Crates, and dozens of camouflages! Back in the skies Norman Jackson feels the wind slamming into his body and he’s buffeted about. He's carrying an escape axe and he rolls and pierces the back of the axe through the aircraft's skin for support as he fully emerges from the crew compartment, hanging on for dear life.

The crew slowly feed out the parachute as Jackson stretches down for the wing, the fire illuminating the path. With a colossal effort he makes his way to the leading edge of the wing. He grabs onto the wing's leading edge and shuffles over towards the fire by hand and axe.

Fueled by adrenaline he gets up close to the fire. One-handed he takes out the extinguisher as the heat of the steel he's hanging on to bleeds through his glove. He takes the extinguisher, shoves the nozzle through the cannon strike and squeezes the handle.

The inside of the wing is filled with extinguisher powder and amazingly the flames start to subside. "He's doing it! It's working!

" The heat is burning his hands but he keeps at it, and miraculously, bit by bit, the flames recede until they're completely extinguished. The flames are out. He can hardly believe it.

He’s going to get back home and see his family! Just a few hours prior to this mission he was told that his wife had given birth to a son. But, up above, someone else sees the flames go out.

It drifts down once again. The FW-190 pilot lets loose another volley of fire that finds its mark on Jackson's leg and right shoulder. He shouts in pain into his mask just as the fuel tank underneath him is cracked open.

Fuel spills out into the night air and then a ball of flame bursts all around him. He falls off, and his body is swinging around now in the airstream. Within the plane the crew feel his weight as the parachute lines tense up in their hands.

"He's gone from the wing, we'll never get him back now! " "We've got to let him go. " They feed out the parachute and release Jackson and the parachute is sucked out into the night air and set alight by the fireball.

The Lancaster groans and lurches, rapidly loosing altitude. Mifflin grips on the controls, keeping the plane straight in level for as long as he dare, but she is critically hit. He manages to get the Lancaster to a safer height and gets on the intercom: "Drpping below 7000 feet, get out of here.

" The crew rush for the escape hatch. "Johnson won't survive the jump, Miff. " "I hear you Smith.

Bail out. " At the rear of the plane Smith is forced to abandon the critically wounded tail gunner and joins the rest of the crew as they jump out into the night. They free fall for a moment until their parachutes blossom.

In the distance their flaming Lancaster loses control moments after they jump. Mifflin can't abandon the tail gunner, Norman Johnson. They are close friends.

Johnson's injuries are too severe to survive a jump, and Mifflin takes the decision to try and crash land the plane. "Norman, I’m landing the plane, you hear me? " "I hear you Miff.

" "I’m here and we're going to crash land. Do you hear me? " "Okay.

" "Okay. Okay. .

. " That act was not to succeed and both men lost their lives. A flaming parachute wheels and flaps in the night sky with Norman Jackson attached.

Incredibly, he's still alive. The ground approaching rapidly until. .

. Jackson hits the ground hard. Smoke is still coming from his charred flight suit.

He's in terrible pain but he's alive. Bushes broke his fall, but even so the impact was so hard it's broken both of his ankles. His hands are badly burned, his legs are covered in wounds and he has a bullet in his shoulder.

"Help! " He's in desperate need of medical attention. He won't make the night without it.

He sees a farmhouse. Harnessing all his remaining strength, Jackson crawls towards it on his elbows and knees. Shortly after he was taken prisoner and sent to a German POW camp, which featured a large hospital run by captured Allied medical staff.

Jackson would end up making a full recovery. The five survivors of his stricken Lancaster stayed in camp until liberated in 1945. Jackson finally got to go home and meet his son who was born on the night of this mission.

Later that year he was awarded the Victoria Cross for his actions on this mission. Upon hearing the news his immediate reaction was "What the hell for? " Norman Cyril Jackson passed away peacefully on 26 of March,1994.

"It's hard enough doing these missions at night. . .

but the Americans are doing them during the day! " "I know, did you hear that story where only one B-17 came home ? " "Yes, I did, you can see the whole story here.

. . .

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