331/332 Squadron-Retro Articles

331-332 Norwegian Squadrons

Author: Tor I. Larsen ( Norway)

Printer friendly version. Word doc. Zip file. HERE

The official 1942 report by the RAF especially took notice of the Norwegian squadrons and their efforts. 331 were the leading fighter squadron when it came to shooting down enemy aircraft. 332 were 3^rd on the list.

The beginning

When Nazi-Germany invaded Norway in the early hours of 9^th of April 1940, the tiny fleet of British built Gloster Gladiators were sent up to meet them. Finn Thorsager was the first Norwegian to engage enemies in the air in Norwegian history. He was joined later this morning by others. Amongst them was Per Waaler and Kristian Frederik Schye, but even a heroic effort by these young men couldn’t stop the Germans invading Norway. They were out-numbered and out performed by the German machines.

When the fighting in southern Norway was over in the spring of 1940, Captain Bjarne Řen was given orders by General Otto Ruge to gather as much personell as possible. He was told to gather as many mechanics, pilots and other volunteers and get them over to Great Britain as soon as possible. From there he would be able to create fighter squadrons as way to continue fighting in northern Norway. It didn’t take long before this plan was scrapped because of the rapid progress of war with the surrendering of northern Norway and the invasion of France shortly thereafter.

In the middle of June the same year the decision was taken to re-locate their plans from Great Britain to Canada. From there they would train pilots and personell and in due time send them over to England to form Norwegian fighter squadrons. Pilots engaged in action in April, like Waaler, Thorsager and Schye would later find themselves in Canada, at Norway’s training camp called Little Norway. The squadrons formed would include as much Norwegian personell as possible, but would belong to the British Royal Air Force and under British command. Norway’s government would pay for the expenses and in return get British fighter planes.

In July 1941 it was all set and the first Norwegian fighter squadron was formed under the squadron codes of (No) 331 Squadron. Later in January 1942, a second Norwegian squadron was formed, this one under the name of (No) 332 Squadron.

331 squadron were (from the pilots own point of view) unlucky and found themselves located on the Orkney Island in protection of the British naval base at Scapa Flow and the surrounding area. They longed for some real action and though the population were friendly (they usually proclaimed themselves of Norwegian heritage after a couple of whiskies) and the activity peaceful and quiet, they desperately wanted to get themselves down to southern England for some real action. They did not avoid casualties, among several incidents was the death of pilot Ulf Wormdal from Hamar. Ulf died tragically when he did not pull up in time when doing practice attacks on a squadron of British Swordfish torpedo planes. His Spitfire crashed into the sea and Ulf was never seen again. Another tragic accident happened when John Nordmo (present at Fornebu on the 9^th of April) drowned on a day out arranged by the squadron.

Finally on the 4^th of May 1942, 331 squadron was re-located to North Weald airfield, just outside London. Right on the front line. 332 Squadron, operating from Northern England at the time, followed shortly thereafter.

A veteran from the Battle of Britain at the age of 21, Wing Commander David Scott-Maldon chose the Norwegian wing as his post and took control of the green but very eager Norwegian pilots. Why Scott-Maldon chose the Norwegian wing is a secret only known to him. When Scott-Maldon left the Norwegian wing at North Weald he was given the highest form of decoration a foreigner could receive by Norway. No one deserved it more than Scott-Maldon they said. Later the squadrons would be led by Dane Kaj Birksted, a sharp shooting Danish fighter pilot, Norwegian Helge Mehre, and Wilhelm Mohr amongst others.

Dieppe

The Norwegian squadrons were up in the air several times a day during the ill-fated Dieppe raid by led by Canadian forces. Led by Scott-Maldon they got stuck in with the Germans at several occasions.

A German Dornier 217 finds himself surrounded by angry Norwegian Spitfires and only seconds go by before the German plane shivers and black, thick smoke gushes from its engine. One or two parachutes opens ups while the attacking Norwegian Spitfire breaks hard left to avoid hitting bits and pieces from the doomed German machine.

The pilots look down and see soldiers in their landing crafts waving at them while other soldiers lies dead on the beaches colouring the sand red of Canadian blood. A section of German Me109 breaks and attacks the Norwegian formation. No need for a Tally Ho. The Norwegians break hard with planes flying everywhere.

A Spitfire sneaks onto the tail of a Me 109, and suddenly the German pilot is hopelessly lying over his stick while the Me109 spirals down towards the ground. Another break left with German bullets hitting somewhere down the fuselage of a straight flying Spitfire. Break, break, break. The pilot gets pressed down in his seat, almost blackening out from the pressure. The Me109 hits but the Spit gets away.

Another Spitfire got its wing shot off. No parachute. The wing falls to the ground like a leaf while the Spitfire spins further and further down before it hits the water in a gigantic splash.

The Norwegian squadrons lost 2 pilots during the Dieppe raid. 3 others were taken prisoners by the Germans. In return they shot down 15 enemy aircraft, 3 probables and 14 damaged. The best score of all RAF squadrons that day.

Mascots

The two squadrons both their little mascots. 331 had a dog called Varg who followed them through thick and thin. If his caretaker was shot down, Varg would be given to another, but he was everyone’s mascot and they all took care of him. 332’s mascot was not so popular. A goat called Mads. He was said to be a real pain in the ass and often found himself in places he shouldn’t have been, for example being the showman when Crown Prince of Norway, Olav visited the squadrons. Mads ended his life when he was shot dead by a guard after one of his little trips out in English countryside by night. According to the guard he did not answer to his call of identity.

Towards D-Day

The Norwegian squadrons continued their operations over the channel and into France. Covering American or British bombers on their way to targets on the continent were one of their jobs. Sometimes they were on offensive patrols over France or the channel trying to get the Germans up in the air to fight. Other times they were flying low offensive sweeps into France. The youngest pilot of them all, Marius Eriksen, barely 19 years old of age got shot down when he tried a head-on attack on a FW190. He survived and was taken prisoner. His best friend Jan Eirik Lřfsgaard is not so lucky and is shot down when Marius is on leave in London. Other casualties included Captain Stein Sem.

-We dived side by side heading for the coast of France. Just before reaching the coast a FW190 appeared just over and behind Sem’s plane. I called out to him over the radio but it was too late. Black smoke came out from his engine. I heard him calling to me over the radio but I couldn’t hear what he said. I last saw him breaking hard right and upwards with thick black smoke still coming out. I pulled up and to the left but the plane got into a spin and the engine stopped. I couldn’t get the plane out of the spin and knew I had to jump out. I couldn’t get the canopy open and thought I was over and done with. At 4000 feet the plane flatted out and I continued over the channel before the engine stopped again and glycol streamed out. I finally got the hood open enough to get out but the release handle hit me in my face and I had to get out by pulling myself up and kicking the stick hard enough so I would get free. Covered in blood and oil I had a hell of a time finding the parachute opener but found it after awhile and the chute opened at 300 feet. I got into my dingy and after half an hour I was picked up by a British fishing boat. – Pilot Officer Malm.

6^th of June 1944 and the show was on. 331 and 332 were there. In the early mornings they took of from Manston patrolling the shores of France. They saw it all. A pilot described it like a huge theatre. It seemed that a person could walk across the channel and not get wet because of all the ships. They saw the little dots on the beaches, some running inland, some lying dead down there while tanks, cars and all kind of vehicles moved inland from the beaches. When they were low on petrol they headed back to Manston. They fuelled up and went back into action. In 10 days they would cross the channel. Leave North Weald for good.

Even though the Luftwaffe were not up in numbers it did not mean it was a peaceful business. Trigger happy sailors often opened fire on them from their ships.

June 8^th 1944

-Why are they shooting at us? Can’t they see were friends? Idiots! Are they that nervous? Get up into the clouds! Now! Climb! Who’s that over there? My God, it’s Leif! He’s hit by those crazy navy guys! There he is, I see him clearly. “Red 1, this is Red 2 are you alright?”. There’s smoke coming from his engine. Oh God. “This is Red 1, return to base, 020 degrees”.

More smoke coming from Leif’s plane. He’s not going to make it. He’s weaving all over the place. Oh no, there he goes.”

Red 2 was the last who saw Squadron leader Leif Lundsten alive. The last thing he did before his death was to give his squadron the right course for him. He was never found.

-Tally Ho, Tally Ho! Fifteen Me109 and FW190 six o’ clock low, going down! Going down with the sun behind them, the two Norwegian squadrons with the British 66^th squadron attacks the German formation. The Germans fall down from the sky like leafs from a tree. An over-whelming force of Norwegian and British Spitfires takes the Germans completely by surprise.

When the fighting was over, 8 German planes were shot down, another probably shot down with another nine damaged. One Norwegian lost his life. Kjell Sandvig.

After a slight delay, the squadrons were on their way over the channel and to France. Later Holland and Belgium. Long gone was the cosy days at North Weald. The conditions on most of these airfields were poor. At one place the smell of corpses were so bad that the pilots could smell it even up in the air. The Germans had been in such a rush to get out that they never found the time to bury their soldiers properly. Suddenly an arm or a leg could pop up around the airfields. And the smell were always there.

December 1944

Tally Ho, Tally Ho! 25 Me 109 slightly above. The squadron leaders shows experience and skill and gets the whole squadron into a good position for an attack on the Me109’s without being seen. The squadron is now experienced and knows how to turn a bad situation into a good one. The Germans on the other hand are inexperienced and have still not seen the attacking formation of Spitfires. In a matter of minutes 12 German ME109 are blown out of the sky, another 2 damaged with the rest of the German formation running for the nearest cloud.

In the last part of 44 and 45 the Germans are less to be seen in the sky. 331 and 332 continues their crusade towards victory, mainly now by focusing on ground targets such as flak batteries, German vehicles and basically whatever German things that still move on the ground. It’s however a risky business and many fine pilots are killed by flak or low flying. The occasional dogfight still happens, but the Germans are cautious and often escapes before the Norwegians can get a hold of them.

The story about Wing Commander

Rolf Arne Berg.

The pilots of 331 and 332 doesn’t really want to talk about themselves and what they did in their Spitfire during the war. They would much rather talk about their friends. Those who did make it and those who didn’t. According to them, if there’s one of those people that need special attention, its Rolf Arne Berg.

Rolf Arne Berg was one of those people who is seldom noticed in peace time. A shy, intelligent man from Trřndelag in Norway. He was with 331 squadron all through the war until his death in February 1945. He took especially care of the new pilots and gave them confidence. He was one of the best pilots Norway had according to his friends. He was first and foremost a friend and not a snobby officer. He could to some seem arrogant, but this was not the case. He was one of those everyone loved and enjoyed being in company with. He was a gentleman and got along exceptionally well with the British RAF boys, not only because of his personality, but also because of his fantastic flying. He was calm, steady and exceptionally relaxed in dangerous situations.

Flying was his life. After a sortie he just took a deep breath and wanted to take off again. When he died, some people are certain that he more sorties than anyone else in the entire 2 Tactical Air Force. Together with his friends Martin Gran and Svein Heglund he often talked about what he would do after the war. Rolf sometimes wanted to continue flying, other times he wanted to buy a fishing boat or travel the world to see places and meet girls. Rolf though, wasn’t a big flirt like some others. He was a man of romance and Heglund knew he had someone special waiting for him. He wanted someone to live with for the rest of his life. It didn’t happen.

Saturday February 3^rd 1945.

Rolf’s bags are packed. His operational duty are over. He’s on his way to a well deserved rest. Maybe see his girlfriend. Relax. Go to Chamonix and ski.

With the briefcases in his hands he listens closely as 332 squadron tells the CO of lots of German places parked on an airfield in Holland. He wants to go. This is an opportunity he can’t miss out on. Sitting ducks on an airfield!

But Berg is officially “posted” and not on the squadron roster. He begs his CO for yet another sortie. Mehre denies him the trip. Follow the rules he says. But Berg doesn’t give in and takes his case to the top level and get permission to go by his best friend, ‘Zulu’ Morris.. By a hairs length.

It’s a simple hit and run attack.

Berg leads the squadron to the place were the planes were reported to be seen. Nothing there. Just dummy planes on the ground. Dummy planes put there to trick Allied planes into the massive flak they had placed in the area.

Berg gives his orders. “Going down, now!”. And so they go down. Berg leads and then it happens. The Germans opens up with everything they got at them. Massive flak. Like flying into a wall of fire. Berg continues on but then pulls out and goes up.

Someone calls out on the radio; “Red 3 is missing!”.

But it’s not red 3, it’s red 1.

Berg’s Spitfire is seen loosing it’s wing and then goes straight down without any form of control. It crashes into a farm house without exploding. The rest of the squadron lands at their base without their leader.

“Wing Commander Berg missing sir” reports Martin Gran to Morris.

Morris turns away and starts crying, the only time he’s seen crying when with the Norwegian squadrons during the war.

Rolf Arne Berg died on his last trip, plus one. A trip that shouldn’t have happened. He was tired, done, finished. He was found dead in his Spitfire and was buried on a cemetery close by.

331 and 332 squadron finished their last sortie on the 21^st of April 1945.

1055 22^nd of May 1945.

36 Spitfire planes start their engines. At 1105 all of them were airborne. Destination, Sola, Norway. Open formation. The moment they had been waiting for had come. They were going home. They left Norway beaten. They arrived in England with nothing more than their clothes and a couple of belongings. Now they were coming home in Spitfires. The war was over.

Tor Idar Larsen