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Guy Gibson
Guy Gibson was one of the outstanding pilots and leaders of World War II. He is best known for his organization of the attack on the Moehne and Eden Dams in May 1943, but his operational career spanned the greater part of the conflict, starting the day after the outbreak of war and continuing, with only brief intervals, until a rest was enforced upon him after the dams raids. In the summer of 1944, he resumed occasional operational flying. He was shot down in September 1944 and buried in Holland, where he is still widely remembered.
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First published September 29, 1994
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June 11, 2016
This is undoubtedly the most definitive current biography of Guy Penrose Gibson VC and may remain so; his RAF records are still closed (the British government seems to be praying that fire or rot will save them from eventually having to deal with the WWII records as they're still closed on specious grounds of "privacy") and no doubt will be thoroughly purged before they are opened.
Morris had the great good fortune of writing at a time when there were still a number of primary witnesses around, and he's done a great job in the archives as well, so he's able to give a rounded and vivid portrait.
Gibson's childhood, to put it mildly, was miserable and fraught; his father was absent and uncaring, and his mother had other problems; Guy and his brother and sister clung together tightly but even that was no substitute for a normal family upbringing, and often they were all away at school. Guy grew up in many ways an immature man, impulsive, with no clue of how he affected other people, unable to understand or sympathize with people not of his social class.
Guy was aviation-mad as a young man, and it's an interesting bit of history that he wrote a letter to the chief test pilot of Vickers to ask him how he might make a career in the industry. Joseph "Mutt" Summers wrote back and suggested Guy join the RAF, which, when he left school, he did. They would meet in the spring of 1943 when Mutt Summers was heavily involved with Barnes Wallis in working out what would become the Upkeep mine used to destroy the German dams, and Guy Gibson was the man in charge of the squadron training to deliver it.
Guy joined the RAF in late 1936 and trained as a pilot. He seems to have drifted through the early part of his career enjoying the flying but slacking in most other ways and failing to impress most of his superiors. When the UK declared war on Germany on September 3, 1939, his squadron commander looked over at Gibson and commented dryly, "Now's your chance to be a hero, Gibbo." If he only knew.
Gibson flew a tour in bombers at the beginning of the war, then a tour in night fighters that he seems to have found a marvelous rest cure. Then, somewhat mysteriously, he was kicked upstairs two full ranks and given a bomber squadron to command, 106 Sqn. This is one of the places Morris falls down, and it may be simply because the evidence no longer exists. How did Gibson, a brave man certainly, an average pilot, rife with personal flaws, get advanced so rapidly? Obviously Arthur Harris, the gigantic personality at the head of Bomber Command, liked him and gave him the opportunity. But the nature of his relationship with Harris and what Harris saw in him remain somewhat a mystery, and it would have been useful to see if there were other men Harris pushed forward in a similar way, but Morris focused tightly on Gibson.
Another place Morris might have done some comparing is between 106 and 61 Squadrons. The two were stationed together at Syerston for the latter half of Gibson's career in command. 106 is always claimed by writers, including Morris, to be a "crack" squadron full of experts - but was it? Here's a chance to compare two identical Lancaster squadrons side by side, and no one yet has taken it. Morris also often softpedals how Gibson was regarded in both 106 and 617 Squadron. Yes, Gibson's pals loved him. The NCOs and enlisted men did not. It's touched on, but not adequately.
One thing Morris did do in this book is peel into a view a side of Gibson no one knew existed. Gibson married during the war, to an actress older than himself. It was not successful. Gibson was a chaser, and marriage did not slow him down. But Morris discovered that Gibson had had a deeply emotional relationship with an RAF nurse that puts him in an entirely different light. That part of the book is both fascinating and deeply sad.
Wisely, I think, Morris covers the formation of 617 Squadron closely - and writes about the operation not at all. It's been covered and covered; no need to follow in the footsteps of others (those who want to read more about the actual raid might look into John Sweetman or James Holland's books). Then he digs into the question of what happened afterwards, and here we find a lot that is deeply interesting, and a lot that is mysterious and may remain so forever.
As Morris puts it, in the summer after Operation Chastise when Sir Arthur Harris ought to have been considering ways to slow down the rebuilding of the dams (which went on uninterrupted - they were refilling by late September), he was instead organizing a lecture and publicity tour for Gibson in the US and Canada. Morris covers this extensively, and a lot of it is quite interesting. One notable thing is that on a number of occasions Gibson came right out and said that strategic bombing could not win the war, a contradiction of Harris' claim that it could. Gibson had been there; he'd flown over Germany, he'd seen the slaughter of his crews, and he knew that Harris was wrong. Morris doesn't make the obvious connection, but the fact that Gibson was never promoted or employed usefully again may have been affected by his forthrightness on this topic.
Morris also covers in a way no other biographer has Gibson's brief dalliance with politics, and in the last chapters analyses closely what happened to lead to Gibson's death in action. He was a few years too early for the more recent theory that Gibson got too close to a Lancaster in his Mosquito, which would to a gunner have looked a lot like a Ju88 night fighter, and was shot down. Whatever happened, it was a ridiculous and avoidable tragedy. And yet one can't help but suspect that Guy Gibson would have found the postwar world a very unfriendly place.
Do I wish Morris had delved deeper at times? Yes. Do I think this is an excellent book? Yes, it is, and this is, so far, the only biography of Guy Gibson worth reading. Highly recommended.
Morris had the great good fortune of writing at a time when there were still a number of primary witnesses around, and he's done a great job in the archives as well, so he's able to give a rounded and vivid portrait.
Gibson's childhood, to put it mildly, was miserable and fraught; his father was absent and uncaring, and his mother had other problems; Guy and his brother and sister clung together tightly but even that was no substitute for a normal family upbringing, and often they were all away at school. Guy grew up in many ways an immature man, impulsive, with no clue of how he affected other people, unable to understand or sympathize with people not of his social class.
Guy was aviation-mad as a young man, and it's an interesting bit of history that he wrote a letter to the chief test pilot of Vickers to ask him how he might make a career in the industry. Joseph "Mutt" Summers wrote back and suggested Guy join the RAF, which, when he left school, he did. They would meet in the spring of 1943 when Mutt Summers was heavily involved with Barnes Wallis in working out what would become the Upkeep mine used to destroy the German dams, and Guy Gibson was the man in charge of the squadron training to deliver it.
Guy joined the RAF in late 1936 and trained as a pilot. He seems to have drifted through the early part of his career enjoying the flying but slacking in most other ways and failing to impress most of his superiors. When the UK declared war on Germany on September 3, 1939, his squadron commander looked over at Gibson and commented dryly, "Now's your chance to be a hero, Gibbo." If he only knew.
Gibson flew a tour in bombers at the beginning of the war, then a tour in night fighters that he seems to have found a marvelous rest cure. Then, somewhat mysteriously, he was kicked upstairs two full ranks and given a bomber squadron to command, 106 Sqn. This is one of the places Morris falls down, and it may be simply because the evidence no longer exists. How did Gibson, a brave man certainly, an average pilot, rife with personal flaws, get advanced so rapidly? Obviously Arthur Harris, the gigantic personality at the head of Bomber Command, liked him and gave him the opportunity. But the nature of his relationship with Harris and what Harris saw in him remain somewhat a mystery, and it would have been useful to see if there were other men Harris pushed forward in a similar way, but Morris focused tightly on Gibson.
Another place Morris might have done some comparing is between 106 and 61 Squadrons. The two were stationed together at Syerston for the latter half of Gibson's career in command. 106 is always claimed by writers, including Morris, to be a "crack" squadron full of experts - but was it? Here's a chance to compare two identical Lancaster squadrons side by side, and no one yet has taken it. Morris also often softpedals how Gibson was regarded in both 106 and 617 Squadron. Yes, Gibson's pals loved him. The NCOs and enlisted men did not. It's touched on, but not adequately.
One thing Morris did do in this book is peel into a view a side of Gibson no one knew existed. Gibson married during the war, to an actress older than himself. It was not successful. Gibson was a chaser, and marriage did not slow him down. But Morris discovered that Gibson had had a deeply emotional relationship with an RAF nurse that puts him in an entirely different light. That part of the book is both fascinating and deeply sad.
Wisely, I think, Morris covers the formation of 617 Squadron closely - and writes about the operation not at all. It's been covered and covered; no need to follow in the footsteps of others (those who want to read more about the actual raid might look into John Sweetman or James Holland's books). Then he digs into the question of what happened afterwards, and here we find a lot that is deeply interesting, and a lot that is mysterious and may remain so forever.
As Morris puts it, in the summer after Operation Chastise when Sir Arthur Harris ought to have been considering ways to slow down the rebuilding of the dams (which went on uninterrupted - they were refilling by late September), he was instead organizing a lecture and publicity tour for Gibson in the US and Canada. Morris covers this extensively, and a lot of it is quite interesting. One notable thing is that on a number of occasions Gibson came right out and said that strategic bombing could not win the war, a contradiction of Harris' claim that it could. Gibson had been there; he'd flown over Germany, he'd seen the slaughter of his crews, and he knew that Harris was wrong. Morris doesn't make the obvious connection, but the fact that Gibson was never promoted or employed usefully again may have been affected by his forthrightness on this topic.
Morris also covers in a way no other biographer has Gibson's brief dalliance with politics, and in the last chapters analyses closely what happened to lead to Gibson's death in action. He was a few years too early for the more recent theory that Gibson got too close to a Lancaster in his Mosquito, which would to a gunner have looked a lot like a Ju88 night fighter, and was shot down. Whatever happened, it was a ridiculous and avoidable tragedy. And yet one can't help but suspect that Guy Gibson would have found the postwar world a very unfriendly place.
Do I wish Morris had delved deeper at times? Yes. Do I think this is an excellent book? Yes, it is, and this is, so far, the only biography of Guy Gibson worth reading. Highly recommended.
May 20, 2023
A superb study of one of Britain’s youngest and most decorated airmen from the Second World War. Hailed by his superiors as an outstanding leader, with an unswerving dedication and sense of duty. Gibson’s actions on the evening of 16 May 1943 in leading the famous Dambusters raid resulted in a Victoria Cross at age 24.
Morris’s text covers much ground and sheds light on the man himself. A highly focused individual, he was however deeply rooted in the class system of the day. While some select pilots from 617 squadron formed part of an “inner circle”, the lowly ground crew (indeed even some of his own lower ranking flight crew members) are held in low regard. He was not so much a man of the people, more a man of the moment.
The final tragedy of Gibson’s untimely death in a Mosquito at age 26 is unpacked. Blame is ultimately laid squarely at the door of Harris and Cochrane for allowing his return to operations in the first place. Albeit, the book was published before more recent source material emerged, pointing towards “friendly fire”.
A riveting read, especially in this 80th anniversary year of the Dambusters raid.
Morris’s text covers much ground and sheds light on the man himself. A highly focused individual, he was however deeply rooted in the class system of the day. While some select pilots from 617 squadron formed part of an “inner circle”, the lowly ground crew (indeed even some of his own lower ranking flight crew members) are held in low regard. He was not so much a man of the people, more a man of the moment.
The final tragedy of Gibson’s untimely death in a Mosquito at age 26 is unpacked. Blame is ultimately laid squarely at the door of Harris and Cochrane for allowing his return to operations in the first place. Albeit, the book was published before more recent source material emerged, pointing towards “friendly fire”.
A riveting read, especially in this 80th anniversary year of the Dambusters raid.
Displaying 1 - 2 of 2 reviews