F/O John Chapman
RAF 113 SQUADRON
John ("Chappy") Chapman was born in Winnipeg, Manitoba on July 11, 1919. His time with 113 Squadron was the defining period of his life. As he was on active service for more than three years (in England , the mid-east and Burma/India) - and given the high mortality levels of aircrews - it is very unusual for him to have survived the war. When we combine this with the fact that he was, as he admitted "one of the worst pilots in the entire air force" his survival (and that of his two crew Mac and Ken) may have been nothing short of a miracle.
Chappy came from a very humble background. His mother, Anne, immigrated to Canada from Glasgow after the First War and started a life there all by herself. She would marry William Chapman when John was two and he would take the Chapman name but the family struggled to make ends meet. William worked on the railway and there was often no work. Anne supported the family working as a waitress in diners. The depression made things even worse. They lived the best they could, often with landlords and shopkeepers pressing them for payment. To help out the family John left school at the age of 16 (he would finish his high school at night) to work in a warehouse. In later years John would tell stories about how, as a teenager, he would go to the local Chinese restaurant and buy fish and chips for a dime. A coke was five cents extra. He could not afford that. He would mix the vinegar and ketchup provided with the meal and drink it down to save the price of a coke. The owner would chase him and his friends out if they were caught doing this. It was a life that toughened him. Although short (5 foot 7) and light (about 130 lbs) he would never back down.
By 1939, Chappy had had a variety of odd jobs but had basically no future. In that he was not too different from tens of thousands of working class men who had grown up in Canada in the depression. Hoping to better himself (and perhaps for glory) he tried to volunteer but the Canadian Armed Forces had no ability in 1939 to process the huge influx of people wanting to join. He did not formally join up to the late spring of 1940. He had never, at age 21, been more than 20 miles from Winnipeg but the next 4 years would literally take him around the world.
In those days there was a big distinction between being an officer and an enlisted man. Chappy wanted to get ahead. He knew that with his class background he stood no chance of becoming an officer in the army. He had never been within 1,500 miles of the sea which eliminated the navy. He chose the air force. He had heard that pilots, although they rarely lived long, at least got to be officers. He took flight training near Ottawa on Harvards - the only story that survives is of him being suspended for flying under a bridge to impress a girl. By late 1940 he was shipped overseas. By that date the blitz was over and he was assigned to fly Blenheims (with, his son thinks, 113 Squadron). There was no doubt, according to Chappy, that the Blenheim was the very worst plane then flying in Europe . According to Chappy it was slow, lightly armed, with a limited range and a limited bomb load. It would have been suicide to fly the planes over Europe and so the planes were confined to attacks on German coastal shipping where opposition was expected to be light. His son believes that it was in England that Chappy teamed up with his crew Ken (the gunner) and Mac (a Kiwi navigator).
There are few stories of combat action from this period - but there are lots of stories about how Chappy loved London and the antics he engaged in there. To a boy from an industrial city on the prairie of Canada it was a new world.
PHOTO SOURCE: Sgt Ewan Brooking
Comments on the photo by Sgt Brooking: "This photo of Chapman ( Pilot), Mack ( Nav/B), and Ken ( Wop/Ag) was taken at ( I think) Lower Topa. This crew was Not in Greece, but joined 113 in the Desert. Mack was in a previous Observers Course in N.Z. to me, and his course was sent to England. He did an O.T.U. Course there, and was crewed up with Chappie and Ken. They did some Ops. from England, across the Channel, to bomb the Invasion Barges in the French ports. They then ferried a Blenheim out to Egypt via Gibraltar, and Malta, to then be posted to 113 in the Desert, and were with 113 through Burma , and back to India. They were one of the 13 crews that flew out to Burma. Mack eventually developed T.B., in India and was invalided back to N.Z. I visited him in the Sanitorium in Christchurch shortly after I returned home".
In early or mid 1941 Chappy and his crew and a number of other planes went to the Middle East . I believe they flew England -Gibraltar- Malta - Alexandria . They moved back and forth as the lines of battle moved but most the time was spent based in Egypt - an overwhelming experience for a young Canadian. Stories are told of long periods of inactivity (cards were played constantly in tents), riding camels and occasional moments of terror flying Blenheims with real opposition. One item that is remembered is that Chappy claims it was he who single-handedly discovered the massive Libyan oil reserves. As he relayed it, there was a "black stripe" that one could use as a navigation aid in the Libyan Desert . He deduced that it was oil oozing out of the ground. Whether he truly deserves credit for this multi-billion dollar discovery will never be known. It is known, however, that he never received any royalties for his alleged discovery
In late 1941 it was apparent that war was going to break out in the Far East . Chappy (and Mac and Ken) flew through the near east, Afghanistan and India before arriving in Rangoon . I believe they got there in about November 1941. When the Japanese invaded Burma , the British and Indian forces were quickly routed and Chappy and his crew found themselves outside of Calcutta . He would spend the next year or so there. Sometime in 1943 he switched to flying fighters (Hurricanes and later Spitfires). He was never shy about telling stories but there are no stories of him shooting down any enemy aircraft. Either that did not happen or, as his stories were inevitably humorous, he did not think them suitable for re-telling. He had great respect for the bravery of the German and Japanese forces and somewhat less respect for the Italians. He would tell stories about the very inaccurate information British forces were given about the Japanese ("their planes are made out of bamboo") and how the first dead Japanese he ever saw (an airman) was over 6 feet tall. He believed himself to be a Scot, was very fond of fellow Commonwealth troops (Aussies, Kiwis, and South Africans), liked the English enlisted men (but disliked the officers) and disliked all Americans he ever came into contact with during the war. He used to say that at American military bases there were buckets of medals at the door of the canteen and one could just help oneself to whatever he wanted. In this he may have exaggerated a bit but if there was any exaggeration it was simply to emphasise an otherwise valid point.
Chappy started off as a flight sergeant and then (I hope I have the order right) was made a Pilot Officer and eventually a Flying Officer. Although he disdained authority he was internally proud of the fact that he had joined the officer class. In 3+ years, he never suffered a scratch on active service (he did catch malaria and was probably involved in more than a few pub brawls but these will be ignored). He came home to Canada in 1944 for compassionate reasons, having been away almost 3 1/2 years. His father, William, had died and his mother had been taken gravely ill (she would survive). He remained in the air force until early 1945 when he was released. He made his life after 1945 in the Toronto area as a successful businessman having four children and nine grandchildren. All of his best friends in civilian were men who had been in the war and as they met to discuss their experiences Chappy's stories somehow got better and better with time like a fine wine..
His wife Margaret died of cancer in September of 1994. Two weeks later Chappy had a serious stroke. Although he would partially recover, he gradually weakened and died in June of 1995. He left behind a lot of laughter and many stories that cannot be independently verified.
~
My two favourite Chappy stories are below.
"The Big Fizz"
By early 1942 Chappy and the rest of the RAF had been bounced out of Burma and were in Calcutta . It was there that Chappy came up with an idea that should have been the Far East equivalent of “Dambusters" in the annals of aviation history but, instead, has a somewhat less distinguished place in history.
The story is this. When in Burma , the squadron had used a country club as its base. The fairways were used as runways and there was quite a plush clubhouse that was used as quarters for the aircrew. It was a good life there: lots of servants, golf, tennis courts and a big swimming pool. It was a big upgrade from living in a tent in Egypt with the threat of Messerschmitts. Too bad the Japanese had to go and spoil it all by starting a war.
Chappy knew the Japanese treated their pilots well. He figured it was highly likely their pilots would also be sleeping at the clubhouse and enjoying the country club's amenities. Pilots were rare in the Far East . Taking out a good portion of Japan 's pilots in Burma in one stroke would strike a mighty blow. Chappy came to his commander with a plan. If the Blenheims took off a couple of hours before dawn and were lightly loaded they could strike the clubhouse at dawn when the pilots were still asleep. The clubhouse was made of wood. Incendiary bombs would turn it into an inferno from which no one could escape. Even a near miss would do as the bursting flame would spread to the clubhouse. The risks involved were great - a long flight over enemy territory where if anything went wrong death was likely - but the rewards were even greater. Approval was given.
It all, almost,-went according to plan. Chappy and two other planes took off at night and made the journey across Burma . Their navigation was perfect. As the sun rose, the pagodas of the city of Rangoon were before them in the morning calm. The golf course was quickly spotted. There was no opposition and no warnings. The planes came on untouched towards the target. It would be like shooting a fish in a barrel. Mac, the navigator was responsible for the bomb drop. He called out the time to target. Finally it was time. The incendiaries fell towards earth. Mac was at a viewer watching the bombs fall. "They're right on target, they’re right on target" he yelled jubilantly. Then there was a brief silence followed by an "Oh my God". Chappy felt that Mac must have finally realised the awful nature of war and what it was to kill a sleeping enemy defenceless in their beds. But that was not it at all. Mac was now yelling "I don't believe it. I don't f..ing believe it". The incendiaries had fallen true. They had fallen toward the clubhouse but missed it by only a few yards. But that should not have mattered - the spread of their flames should have been as devastating as is the hit had been direct. There was only one small thing that had been overlooked. A few yards form the clubhouse was the gorgeous swimming pool that the squadron had enjoyed a few months previously. The incendiaries had fallen squarely into the swimming pool. Rather than bright flames, steam filled the air.
~
"God Bless Queen Victoria and the Royal Flying Corps"
Sometime in 1942 Chappy, Mac and Ken were flying back from a bombing mission over Burma . The plane began to have engine trouble. It was losing altitude. Although Chappy tried to nurse it along it was clear they were going down. They were over the jungle and the lines between enemy territory and that held by the British were not well defined. As the plane descended it looked like they were over a solid canopy of jungle. They did not want to parachute - they would never find one another and the jungle might never give them up. Off to the left Chappy spotted a different colour of green. A field. He nudged the plane towards it. The field was not large but it was enough and the plane belly flopped into the mud. No one was hurt. For once Chappy had made a decent landing.
The instructions to air crew at the time made it clear that if a plane crashed the bomb site had to at all costs be denied to the enemy. Mac and Ken dismantled the bomb site. It weighed (according to Chappy) about 80 pounds and they began to struggle across the wet field with it. They were in the middle of nowhere with no idea of where they were, of how long it would take them to get to civilisation or whether the Japanese or British were in charge of the territory.
As Chappy tells, it when they landed there was not a person to be seen. There was just an empty field in the middle of the jungle. In the 10 minutes or so that it took them to detach the bomb site and struggle across the field that changed. People - hundreds of people - began to emerge from the trees. Chappy, Mac and Ken spoke no native languages. At the time many inhabitants of the region did not support the British. The Japanese had promised them their independence. The sight of hundreds of people emerging from the bush was not necessarily good news. Chappy thought that no doubt the Japanese would handsomely reward anyone who turned in three British airmen and a top secret bombsight. Chappy had his service revolver with 6 bullets. Mac and Ken were unarmed (aside from the bombsight which was not really useful in a fight). If things got dicey they would not end well for the aircrew. For 5, 10 minutes the two sides stared at each other. Not a word was said. The air crew was becoming more and more nervous.
A low murmur began to rumble through the crowd. Something was happening. Someone - the Japanese? - was approaching. The crowd opened a wide path for whoever was coming. It was clear that person had their respect or even their fear.
An old man emerged. He was wearing Khaki shorts, a big leather military belt and a torn shirt. Attached to the shirt was some sort of ribbon or medal. The old man smiled though broken teeth. He raised his arms. Was this the signal for some attack? No! In heavily accented but intelligible English he said "God Bless Queen Victoria and the Royal Flying Corps”. The whole crowd cheered in unison. Everyone smiled. The aircrew were saved. They were escorted by the throng of happy natives through the forest to a village, loaded on to a cart and eventually found there way to a train station and back to base (what became of the pranged plane is unclear).
The aircrew had been saved by an old serviceman who had himself in ancient times fought for King and Country. Although the old man's up to date knowledge of British monarchy and military organisation may have left something to be desired there was no doubt he was a welcome sight to Chappy, Mac and Ken.
~
Note: Chappy was also nicknamed and referred to as "Charlie" by his friends.
SEE ALSO: Chapman main listing, True Tall Tales Section, The 113 Squadron Story
SOURCE: John Chapman III (Grandson), John Chapman II (Son). Biography written by son John Chapman II, in 2008.
BACK TO F/O John Chapman main listing
|
||